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#i think we first got it full-blast with It’s What’s Written In The Books last season
indelicateink · 29 days
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as an american, sam reid’s total inability to hide his contempt for overly fake-chipper american journalists, especially ones who Have Not Done The Assigned Reading know and care about the show, will never not be hilarious and iconic to me
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From Sarge’s kids I think I’m (as of now) excited to learn more about Daisy. She’s got a lot of Elvis in her and she witnesses Elaine go to hell and back to help him beat his addiction and although she’s independent I hope there’s gonna be someone who will be able to do the same for her or stand by her. Not to mention she’s got a twin who they come off as polar opposites (what with Rosalee being a huge Daddy’s girl) and her comments towards her older sister Ella’s marriage - I get the feeling there’s a lot to unpack there.
I think sometimes Elvis felt like he was too much to love and I see a lot of his personal insecurities in Daisy, she even is a popstar like him and that’s a lot of people loving you with maybe them feeling like they aren’t really known for who they are deep down.
I am so happy to hear this, I’ve got a little started on each kid’s own fic (I want one for each like I had for Jesse, just to establish them and then let loose with the intermingling) and I really think hers is compelling. It’s been truly a blast to get to know her and I’ve gotta be honest she may be the most Lisa-like of any Sarge kid in many ways, partly because she’s so Elvis incarnate. It took awhile but me and my scheming buddies have cooked up a good partner for her and she will always have her family as backup and even her godfather Marlon. I think she will, as you said, be publicly adored but can be rather offputting one on one, even though she desperately needs connection. I think eventually, and not after too long, all these relationships get far better, and Daisy finds her little nook in the family easily. She is the one to go to for the zero bullshit takes or help hiding a body. Loyal and fierce that one.
And here, since you made my day asking about her, have a little random snippet I’ve written about her first big debut recording which came from her rehab scribbles and, unfortunately for the family members her lyrics feature -becomes a sensation.
Era: 1978-9ish??
Warnings: moderate…mentions of past divorce, infidelity, a daughter sorta writing a hit tell all? remincence of a one off threesome and Elvis having straight man panic for it (I’m afraid this couple is polyamorous central I’m the 60’s but nothing explicit) big ole family chat with the grown kids, chaos as can be expected…
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What about Wendy?
“Daisy Mae!” Elvis bellows her full name because the crime warrants it, and from behind him, her voice answers, not in person from her place sprawled on the couch but behind him, coming through the stereo in a clear cadence that his creative side must acknowledge is skilled and evocative. What Elvis doesn't find so praiseworthy is his Dear Daughter hanging the family laundry out for all to see with lyrics like:
—“So I'll lock the window and turn on the AC, You'll throw your rocks, and you'll scream that you hate me, But it gets old being forever 20, And what about my wings? What about Wendy?”—
out on a clothesline for all the world to commentate on his failings and his marriage.
The music video coming out tomorrow on MTV, teased as featuring a fresh faced Daisy in a montage of her mother’s most iconic looks -including that secretive wedding gown so few of the nation ever saw, rather hammers home the not so subtle point. As far as Elvis is concerned this is about as disloyal as it gets.
And he is having none of it.
“It’s art, Daddy.” Daisy murmurs, utterly unphased by the hurricane of wrath she can match once she gets that cup of coffee Rosalee is making her.
“Is this how you see us?” Elvis demands and Jesse winces to the side, things had been going so smoothly after Danny was born but lord, the Presley’s just can’t manage to be calm for long, Daisy had to record that stupid black book she scribbled in during rehab and, my does it have some choice takes on the events of the last decade. “This how you see your childhood?” Elvus goes on, “Where we loved ya like no one’s ever loved any kids and gave ya everythin’ and-“
“-and slammed a buncha doors in between.“ Daisy shrugs, not meaning to be cruel, but it’s the truth and she’s never had her sibling’s affinity for the affection that the rest of the kids take as blood money for the insanity they got put through. Daisy doesn't hold a grudge against anyone for her childhood, in fact, she’s thankful for the writing material. But she’s not gonna be sorry for writing shit as it was.
Which was mama playing a haggard Wendy while Daddy flitted in and out of the window at whim like Peter Pan.
“Girl,” her daddy begs her to understand as he takes his seat next to her on the sofa, big ringed hand familiar and pleading on her bony knee, as if somehow this appeal of his will lock the song back into her diary and out of the radio -or maybe he doesn’t care about his reputation anymore, he’s gotten lax about that after the divorce, maybe he really is seeking after his child’s good opinion this time when he continues, “I’m all for art’n’shit but have I not taught ya nothin’ bout-“
“Daddy, ya didn’t even write your own songs.” Daisy gently tries to get him to see the difference in their art but Jesse gasps out in horror:
“Daisy!!” like she just shot their father instead of stating the truth. Which is kinda her problem with her family, they can’t take straight facts.
“Alright, alright then,” Elvis simmers a bit but his tone is restrained as he presses his point, “so ya write from the heart and ya wrote about life, I get ya. So then why’d you call mama Wendy when, w-w-when she’s -she’s my Tinkerbell?”
“You’d rather I used your pet little name in public?” Daisy scoffs at his muddled logic and feels bad for the first time after -soon as his brow furrows in genuine hurt. Daddy loves mama, he loves her again like a new man and Daisy doesn’t get how that works but it’s the truth and she’s got no fight to pick with the truth. It makes her admit with a shrug, “I used it ‘cause Marlon always says she’s Wendy.”
You could hear a pin drop the way everyone’s chatter in the living room stops, even the coffee maker stops spluttering in the distance and it’s highly likely Jesse isn’t even breathing as everyone’s head’s swivel, Daddy’s slower but more intent than any, to look at Elaine where’s she sits in the white arm chair, blanket cast over her where Danny fell asleep while nursing. She’s as white as the rocker she sits in.
“Oh does he now?” Elvis rumbles and Daisy feels the unintentional bite of his nails on her knee.
“Well yeah, he does and -always has.” Daisy insists as if the past and present existence of Brando’s opinions on Elvis’ wife makes shit any better, Daisy knows it the second she lets it out that it’s not exactly balm on the scab.
Her voice doesn't make anyone look away from mama and her perfect, frozen face, carefully neutral and soothingly disinterested in the topic.
“That man has only ever called me, Elaine.” mama laughs an airy, dismissive little thing and the bite of Daddy’s rings on Daisy’s knee loosens their grip. “And if he thinks i'm a Wendy -he should say it to my face.” she jokes and Jesse predictably lets out a pained laugh of solidarity.
“-A-a-and w-who the hell did ya get to sew all those recreated outfits, girl?” Daddy is suddenly back on the original topic with a burst of renewed incredulity at her gall and Daisy knows she can use this to her advantage, get him arguing about fashion, tailors and supporting local folks instead of berating her for her lyrics and-
-Ella watches as Elaine’s stiff face smoothes into relief and she lays her head back against the rocker’s cushion and closes her eyes against the hubbub that’s no longer pertinent to her. Not for the first time Ella wonders if mama is as burdened as she is with thoughts and feelings married women shouldn’t have, they really shouldn’t. Marriage should cure a woman of them but Ella had them all alone on the ranch with her husband gone and Mama had Marlon and his lingering looks and her frozen face whenever his name gets mentioned and mama who is staring up at the ceiling like she’s no longer in the room with them at all.
“Peter Pan, Peter Pan, little lost boy actin’ like a big man,” only Marlon could have made that rhyme sound like anything but a goad, only Marlon really saw what Elaine saw when Elvis was sated, pliable, sweet as a newborn and pretty a sin. “Those producers who’ve got him playin’ tough n’ shit don’t know his appeal, they just don’t get it. Goddamn Peter Pan.”
And he had run his fingers over Elvis’ face, catching his drooping eyelids and pulling them down and over his nose to those cherub lips. And Elvis’ eyes hadn’t opened again till next morning when he woke in angry panic.
Elaine stares at the ceiling and feels Danny shift against her breast, snuggling closer, and she wonders if Elvis ever recalls that night like she does. Ever replays it a million times.
Wendy, Wendy Wendy.
Marlon thinks she’s Wendy, Marlon’s told her own daughter that. But never her. No. He’d just raked his hand through the wrecked coiff of Elvis’ gelled hair and admiringly called him Peter Pan. And Elvis, being Elvis in the state of freshly loved and freshly praised, never balked at it before drifting to sleep in their muggy tent.
Wendy, Wendy, Wendy, he never called Elaine that to her face.
Elaine catches Daisy’s eye next time she looks away from the ceiling, an odd moment of recognition. Funny how each child knows a part of her, but it’s the inner workings of Daisy’s curious, generous, honest self -a heart so very like Elvis’ own- that can look back at Elaine and smile at her, while knowing her fully, faults and all. It’s not so bad having grown daughters as a friend, Elaine decides as she watches Elvis flail backwards against the couch to laugh at his daughter's good natured dig at his unmodified wardrobe.
It’s good not to be his only Wendy keeping him young anymore.
Song based on: Wendy by Maisie Peters
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@powerofelvis
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hbyrde36 · 1 year
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Updated 06/05/2024
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No Vacancy
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When Eddie Munson arrives at the Buckingham Beach Motel to spend the summer with his BFF Chrissy and her business partner Robin, the last person he expects to see waiting in the lobby is former king of Hawkins High and asshole extraordinaire, Steve fucking Harrington.
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Times Like These
Anniversary Post
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When Eddie finds himself back in his living room, staring down a very alive Chrissy Cunningham, after just having bled to death himself in the middle of a nightmare world, he was rightfully very, very fucking confused. -Or- What happens when the new guy, who only just got inducted into the fucked up world of monsters and mayhem, gets stuck in a time loop and finds himself responsible for saving everyone?
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I Don't Think We're In Hawkins Anymore, Big Boy
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After being run off the road in a freak accident during a terrible storm, Steve and Eddie find that not only have they committed vehicular manslaughter, but they’ve also somehow been whisked away to a strange land. The journey is rough and they are being hunted for revenge, but through it all Steve and Eddie grow closer than ever as they try and find their way home with the help of some new friends with familiar faces. -Or- Steddie Wizard of Oz
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Hellfire Ink
Tumblr | AO3 | Art by Glitterfang
Written for the Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang 2023/2024
Not for the first time, Eddie was really regretting his decision to book a client on a Friday night, a new client at that. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do, exactly. There were no dates on his calendar, and going out to random bars and clubs on the weekends to look for quick hook-ups had begun losing its appeal lately. But it’d been a long week, and he’d much rather be getting ready to plop down on the couch with Chrissy to split a bottle of red wine while they watched Drag Race, than preparing to do a cover up for some idiot who’d gotten their girlfriend’s name tattooed on his body, only to fall victim to—The Curse. Ask any tattoo artist and they’d be the first to tell you, there was no surer way to guarantee a breakup than to ink your significant other’s name on your body forever.
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Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)
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For years Eddie has been playing D&D with his cousin Dustin and his friends. It’s a crazy home brew campaign of his own design that plays fast and loose with the lore, weaving in heavily embellished events from their real lives. They play themselves, filling out a full cast of NPC’s with the likenesses of friends, family, and strangers. It’s been a wild ride. The game is set in Hawkins, but not quite their Hawkins. This manifestation of their hometown is full of dark secrets, including a shady government agency, evil scientists, and another dimension full of dangerous creatures hiding on the other side of reality. They’ve just wrapped their most recent session before spring break 1986. It was a bittersweet end to an epic part of the story. A blast to play through, but they didn’t beat the bad guy, and the party has been left in ruins. Eddie’s character is dead, one of their favorite NPC’s is in a coma, and the world has literally split apart at the seams. Honestly, Eddie’s not sure how they come back from this. - In 1983 Steve Harrington joined the search for a missing boy and found something he never bargained for. In 1984 Steve Harrington disappeared.
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Honey, You're Familiar
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Written for the Stranger Things Writer's Guild Hozier Project, a collection of one-shots inspired by songs from Hozier's self titled album. The word count limit was 3,000 and I chose the song From Eden
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🖤The Crawl
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Inspired by the VERY little information we have about the Stranger Things writer's plans for season 5 Time travel stories love to play with the idea that one small act can have an incredible impact on the future. What if, in a crazy twist of fate, Will Byers was rescued from the Upside Down a day early and with just a little knowledge of what was to come. Would it be enough to change everything?
POV Will Byers, POV Eddie Munson, POV Steve Harrington, time shenanigans, fix-it of sorts, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, falling in love, confessions, first kiss, character death, HAPPY ENDING
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Steve Harrington: Vampire Hunter
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Steve Harrington is an animator. It’s a job that involves raising the dead; sometimes as a service for mourning relatives looking for closure, often as a tool for the courts to settle disputes. He is also a licensed vampire hunter. Two years ago, vampirism became legal in the United States, granting its undead population citizenship. With this new legal status comes a complication for Steve, as he finds himself tasked with helping the very creatures he is accustomed to killing. Speaking of complications, Steve struggles in more ways than one when he finds himself working closely with none other than Eddie Munson, an undeniably sexy several-hundred-years old master vampire. Or, The Anita Blake/Steddie mashup that nobody asked for but I’m having far too much fun with.
Modern AU, Vampire AU (Anita Blake AU/mashup),  aged up characters, enemies to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, dream sex, vampires, wereanimals, zombies, other supernatural things eventually
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Shelter In Place
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Written for Lex’s Spicy Six Summer Challenge! My prompt was : Hurricane
When a major Hurricane is projected to hit Hawkins (technically it’s more like the remnants of a hurricane, but the residents of Hawkins don’t really know the difference or care), Dustin is worried about his new friend and DM, Eddie Munson, who lives in a trailer, a structure not known for its resilience against severe weather. He invites the older boy to ride the storm out with him and his mom at home, unaware that she has made arrangements for them to stay with family that live far away from the storm's trajectory. Dustin doesn’t want to leave his friend high and dry, enter everyone’s favorite babysitter: Steve Harrington.
🌊Caught in the Undertow
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Steve saved Eddie from certain death. Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forgive him for it.
Post season 4, angst with happy ending, slow burn, “enemies” to friends to lovers, suicidal thoughts, POV alternating, the best uncle Wayne Munson
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chris-hartley · 11 days
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Happy Pride Month! This month I'll be partaking in the Pride Month Bingo challenge hosted by @queenofbaws, @unicornaffair, and @jadedsunshine.
(Feel free to blacklist #kenziewritespride or #pridemonthchallege2024 if you want to avoid these posts going forward!)
Today I've decided to start off with the prompt that came to me first: There Was Only One Bed! This fic is written about my Total Drama OC, Dannie, and her ex-girlfriend Lola (@horatios-mom's character)! Feel free to check out the @teadocs blog for more info on those two, but other that without further ado, my first fic for this month!
The competition was down to just a few pairs. Charlie and Chad (the married couple), Skylar and Ethan (the siblings), and Dannie and Lola (the exes). And over the span of the last round, Dannie and Lola had been all but at each other’s throats. And by the time they got back to the hotel where they’d been put up for the night, Dannie was exhausted.
All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and go to sleep and not speak to Lola until the next morning. After all, she’d been on the receiving end of a passive aggressive comment here and there and wasn’t 100% sure what she’d done to deserve most of them.
Lola unlocked their hotel room, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”
“Knock yourself out,” Dannie muttered, carrying her bag into the room, but quickly her face dropped when instead of two beds, there was only one. 
The sound of the shower running came from the bathroom, and it wasn’t like Dannie was eager to invite Lola along to sort out this rooming situation. So she took a deep breath and went downstairs to the lobby, going to talk to the woman at the front desk.
“Hi, uh, there seems to be a misunderstanding. Me and my friend were supposed to have a room with two beds, but there’s only one. Can we get a different room?”
The woman clicked her tongue, “Sorry, no can do hun. It’s a busy season here. You see, the eclipse is in full totality so we’ve got loads of out of towners. Afraid there’s no more rooms to choose from.”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Dannie muttered.
“What’s the name on the booking?” The woman asked.
“Chris Mclean? I think.”
The woman typed it in and nodded, “I see. Three rooms, one bed each.”
“Chris did this? I swear next time I-” she clenched her jaw, “Thank you. I guess.”
“No problem, hun. Have a good night.”
Dannie went back up to their room, only then realizing she had forgotten her room key. She could picture it now, Lola chewing her out for yet another thing. She was definitely going to be banished to sleeping on the floor and that probably meant that she would be even more groggy for tomorrow’s filming. Fuck her.
She knocked on the door. Twice. And then it opened up to Lola standing there in a towel.
“What are you doing? I thought you were in here already?”
“Trying to figure out our room,” she admitted, “There’s only one bed.”
Lola’s face dropped, “Oh.”
“Yeah. But cause of the stupid eclipse, they can’t give us a different room cause there isn’t one.”
“And here I thought that just happened in Mads’ fanfics,” Lola chuckled lightly under her breath.
“Can I come back in?”
Lola nodded, moving out of the way of the door and ducking back into the bathroom as Dannie walked in. She walked to her bag, unzipping and pulling out her go-to pajama shirt. It was an old Five Nights At Freddy’s t-shirt with William Afton on it. The once black fabric was a faded charcoal gray, the vibrant purple on the TV screens behind him somehow in good condition. She slipped off her shirt and unhooked her bra, letting it drop from her arms before pulling the FNAF shirt on.
“That’s a blast from the past,” Lola said, emerging from the shower to spot Dannie pulling it on.
“Huh?”
“Do you remember? You used to wear that shirt all the time when we were dating,” she explained.
“Oh,” Dannie glanced down at it, “Yeah I did.”
“It’s seen better days,” Lola said, setting her bag down on the floor and sitting down on the edge of the bed.
That’s it, she was definitely on the floor.
Dannie took one of the pillows and blankets from the bed and laid it on the floor, and was just about to sit down when Lola piped in, “What are you doing?”
“Th- What do you mean? I’m sleeping on the floor.”
“Why?”
“Because… There's only one bed. I figured you would want it.”
Lola blinked at her for a second, “Oh. I guess I didn’t… realize.”
“Realize what?”
“That we wouldn’t just share it,” Lola shrugged.
Dannie scoffed, shrugging, “I figured you wouldn’t want to.”
Lola was silent for a second, as if she was trying to figure out what Dannie meant by that. Then she sighed, “Oh. Yeah. Um. I’ve been PMSing a lot lately and I guess I didn’t think about the fact I was taking it out on you. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. But if you want to take the floor that’s fine. I just figured it wouldn’t be the first time we shared a bed. We’re both adults. We’re friends. We can survive one night in a comfortable bed.”
Dannie thought about it for a second. Lola did have a point. They were friends. Had been for years. Just cause the show had labeled them “the exes” didn’t mean they had to be enemies. And the more she thought about it, the more she felt the bed calling to her.
“Okay,” she picked up her pillow and blanket, setting it back on the bed, “Thanks.”
“Yeah,” Lola nodded, getting under the blankets and settling down.
Dannie did the same, taking a deep breath as she sunk into the bed, “Goodnight Lola.”
“Goodnight Dannie.”
---
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hxseok-honee · 3 years
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atlas heart || part 25
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a/n : so sorry it took so long getting this update out !! i had a disgusting amount of work to do and i really was not doing anything else for a few days -- i really hope you like it!! pls lmk what you think about things now that jimin (and we) know everything! its gonna get,,,, i wanna say messy but messys not even enough to cover how messy its gonna get
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Jimin can’t remember the last time he’d closed his eyes for more than a few minutes. Time goes by so fast these days that he’s partially convinced he’s been falling asleep and not realizing it. The hours between class and dinner every day are spent in the library, his headphones shoved into his ears haphazardly while he tunnel visions onto what’s been in the back of his mind since the beginning of the year.
Those spare hours had turned into days and days into weeks -- weekends where he doesn’t even glance at his phone, unaware of the growing concern of his friends. It’s almost May now, the chill of early spring having melted away around him without him realizing. His schoolwork stopped being a priority ages ago, and he knows his grades are really taking the hit for it. He vaguely remembers Namjoon confronting him one night some time ago -- a week? Two weeks ago? -- but he can’t for the life of him recall the contents of that conversation. Something about hating to play the ‘prefect card’, but having no choice. He doesn’t even know if he’s still on the quidditch team. It doesn’t matter -- nothing matters when seeing everything with the perspective he’s got now.
Practically buried in scrolls and books, Jimin could care less about the time and the fact that he’s very obviously breaking curfew right now -- the library’s been empty for hours now, and the light outside the window has well past faded into pitch black darkness. He had to hide from Pince around 10pm, barely managing to catch the click of the librarian’s heels through the music blasting in his headphones to keep him concentrated -- it’s a miracle that she hadn't caught him, really. He’d never be able to focus properly back in his room, not when he’s this close to putting the pieces together.
It’s there, right there, everything scattered in his brain. He knows it’s sitting right in front of him, he can feel himself trying to hyperfocus on anything that can blatantly tell him what he needs to know. Flipping through the pages of a book with one hand and shuffling through scrolls with his other, he glances down at a scrap of paper with his own handwriting, chicken-scratch on a ripped up piece of parchment for him to refer back to every few minutes. There, in black ink, the words ‘vampire’ and ‘veela’ are written and then, later, crossed out. There’s one below it -- ‘maledictus’ -- that remains uncrossed and haunts his every thought.
For the better half of the week, he’d spent his nights scouring the bookshelves for any text he could find on blood malediction -- there isn’t much to show for his efforts. Too rare a condition to have any extensive research done, he could barely manage to put together a few measly scrolls and one book with less than a full chapter on the subject. Sighing heavily, Jimin leans back in his chair, rubbing at his temples while he reconsiders the information for what feels like the hundredth time.
It fits the fact that she has a blood condition… but it’s not right. There’s no mention of a potion or even of regularly experiencing sickness. Y/n is in the Hospital Wing like once a month. There wouldn’t be anything Pomfrey or Hoseok could do to help her if she was a maledictus…
He considers that maybe those things are part of blood malediction and that there just isn’t enough documentation for him to verify it. But there’s something nagging at him, telling him this isn’t right. He thinks back over everything he knows, trying to pull up the major details that could help him finally get some sleep. Ignoring the fact that he very well could doze off, even with his loud ass music, he lets his eyes close so he can think. It takes a few minutes, but eventually he’s sitting up in his seat, eyes wide as he recalls something said to him almost months ago, forgotten amidst everything else on his mind.
“What’s the deal with your roommate, Tae?”
“Who, Stephen?”
“No, not fuckin’ Stephen -- Jungkook!”
“Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?”
“Because Stephen doesn’t look at me like I’m the bane of his existence.”
“Yeah… I don’t know what you did to make Jeon Jungkook hate you, but it must have be serious--”
“Just tell me what you know about him, Tae.”
“I mean… nothing crazy, really -- an only child, comes from old money. Probably as old as the Malfoys or the Potters. His family’s the purest of purebloods. And always Gryffindors, just like the Malfoys are always Slytherins. It’s kind of nuts, having a family history like that.”
Jimin stumbles out of his chair, already making his way down the aisles of bookshelves, almost crazed with concentration.
Purest of purebloods -- there’s not a single pureblood family that isn’t documented in a registry… registry… regis-- aha!
Turning down an aisle designated for family registries dating back centuries, he scans the shelves at a lightening speed, finally coming to a halt in front of a tome titled Gryffindor Legacies. Hauling it from the shelf, he doesn’t even bother returning to his table, taking a seat right there on the floor.
Flipping straight to the back to search for the family name, he locates it easily and heads to appropriate page. Searching the family tree down generations, it takes him several pages of flipping through Jungkook’s ancestors’ lives to finally get to his parents. They’re the most recent entry -- new editions of the book are printed with each new generation, the original, handwritten copy belonging to the respective families. It’s an inefficient system for sure, but Jimin’s not exactly complaining when he’s the one benefiting directly.
Scanning the page, from the birth of his mother -- Jeon Eunha -- to her school days, from her marriage to his father all the way to Jungkook’s birth. Jimin expects the next part to follow the same structure of his mother’s story, recounting his childhood, but it diverges from that almost immediately with some extra lines that he almost feels don’t exist in the original copy at the Jeon family residence.
Not long after the birth of their first and only child, they were met with circumstances leading to the adoption and care of another, the recently orphaned infant girl, Y/n Y/l/n. In her days at Hogwarts, young Eunha had become friends with a female Ravenclaw student, who had a noticeably sickly pallor about her at all times. She was to become her closest lifelong friend. The same night in which Y/l/n was to give birth to her first child, she and her husband met an untimely fate in the form of a violent animal attack in the backyard of their own home. The Jeon family were the first to arrive at the premises, deciding immediately to take in the infant child and raise her alongside their own son. Not much else is known about the girl, only that she and the Jeon heir were to become inseparable.
Jimin stares down at the page, unblinking. There’s a lot of information to process, but the things that stand out most to him are the fact that Y/n’s mother was also apparently afflicted with the same illness as Y/n, and --
‘Violent animal attack’? I knew the car accident thing was bullshit, but… did her mom not even die in childbirth? Why would she not tell me… there’s nothing suspicious about an animal atta--
Almost like his brain has started to short-circuit after the long nights and lack of sleep, Jimin’s thoughts are gone instantly, replaced by the mental image of a book sitting not a even a few aisles away, on a table littered with all of the information he’d ever needed in the first place. He’s completely incapable of registering anything around him as he races back to his table, his mind flipping incomprehensibly between the information in front of him and all of the pieces of his memories, details that make too much sense in this moment to match anything but this one conclusion.
Most Muggles, however, will die from the extent of their injuries… all known instances of Muggle attacks have been portrayed in the media as ‘animal attacks’ so as to preserve the secrecy of the wizarding world…
Given the extent of the available research and data, collected almost entirely from male subjects afflicted with lycanthropy, not much is known about the hereditary components related to a female werewolf. Therefore, it is unknown if a pregnant female werewolf's transformations would affect the ability to carry the pregnancy to term…
Without any humans nearby to attack, or other animals to occupy it, the werewolf will attack itself out of frustration…
“My mom died in childbirth and my dad… just a… just a freak accident you know, no one’s fault or anything…”
Because werewolves only pose a danger to humans, companionship with animals whilst transformed has been known to make the experience more bearable as the werewolf has no-one to harm and will be less willing to harm themselves…
“You want to talk about forbidden, Jeon? Let’s talk about your illegal animagus status-”
The way one must imbibe it is very unique among potions, in that a goblet full of wolfsbane potion must be taken each day for a week preceding the full moon…
“…you know how long it takes me to make a full set of vials for you. I barely have enough to make it last 3 days…”
The monthly transformation of a werewolf is extremely painful if untreated and is usually preceded and succeeded by a few days of pallor and ill health…
“He was lowkey carrying her down the stairs… she looked kinda sick actually…”
Throwing scrolls behind him without care as he searches for the one with the final detail, he pulls his phone out when he finds it -- a book listing all of the recorded moon cycles for over a century. Jamming his thumb down on the icon that’ll take him to his search engine and typing with blind panic, he finds himself yanking out his headphones by the cord with one sharp tug when the answer flashes back at it him on the screen, and he realizes that almost all of the pieces are in place.
The quidditch match against Slytherin -- it was the night before a full moon.
“No, no… no, no, no, this can’t be right. This isn’t happening, this can’t be right, she can’t be--” Jimin remembers the text he’d sent to her almost 8 hours ago, sitting unanswered, and he moves without thinking. Slamming his hands down on either side of the moon cycle record, he flips frantically to the cycle for this current month, April of 1978. What he sees there has his heart dropping out of his chest.
“Next week? It’s next week? But that means she’d have to be feeling the effects of it this wee--” He’s cut off by the feeling of his phone buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches for it almost desperately. It’s Y/n, finally responding to his concerned texts with nothing more than a single line. His blood turns to ice when he reads it.
I’m fine, just feeling under the weather.
--
When Jimin bursts through the door of Dumbledore’s office just past 3am, the headmaster’s already seated at his desk, evidently waiting for him. He’s donning a light blue robe with a matching sleeping cap perched delicately on his head, suggesting to Jimin that he’d somehow woken up knowing he was soon to greet a guest. All of the panic invading Jimin’s body is masked just slightly by guilt, only now realizing how late it is and how intrusive he must seem in this moment.
“Mister Park, you certainly are out quite a bit past curfew, no?” Jimin stands in the doorway cradling all of the scrolls and books he’d been hoarding the last few weeks -- he can’t very well have left a huge pile of evidence back in the library. It would have taken no time at all for someone to look through it and see there were connections everywhere to lycanthropy, even if he himself had been blind to it for so long.
“... Park? Mister Park?” Jimin jumps, lifting his tired eyes to meet Dumbledore’s concerned ones. The man continues once he’s got Jimin’s attention. “Surely, you must need something from me, or you wouldn’t appear so…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t need to. Jimin’s aware of the state he’s in -- the dark rings under his eyes, his ruffled clothes and hair, the way he’s holding his books like he needs to protect them with his life. He looks unhinged. He feels unhinged.
Realizing he has absolutely no idea how to approach the subject of a potential werewolf at Hogwarts with the school’s very headmaster, Jimin decides to start by moving toward the chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk.
Maybe I just need to sit down and take a deep breath. That should help--
He doesn’t even make it two steps before one of the many books he’s holding crashes to the floor between them, falling open to the page he’d stuck a pencil in to save his spot. The moon cycle for April of 1978 stares back up at him, and when he flicks his gaze up to peer at Dumbledore, he sees the headmaster’s expression has hardened with caution.
“Professor--”
“Have a seat, Mister Park.” Jimin’s heart lodges in his throat at Dumbledore’s tone, never having heard such a sharp edge to the kind man’s voice. He moves to the chair, setting the obnoxious amount of research haphazardly in his lap. His eyes will only go so far as the top of Dumbledore’s desk, unable to bring himself to meet the man’s eyes.
“Sir, I… need to ask you something.” When he isn’t granted a response, he swallows hard, pushing forward. “If there were to be a student at Hogwarts with a… peculiarity of sorts… how would you go about dealing with that?”
“How would I deal with what, Mister Park?”
“That student.”
“I’m not quite sure I know what you mean.” Jimin lifts his eyes then, confused, but he’s met with a deliberately ignorant smile.
“Sir?” Dumbledore’s smile, albeit strained, only widens.
“I think you may be suffering from a lack of sleep, Mister Park. There are no students at Hogwarts with any peculiarities, as you call it.” Jimin stares suspiciously up at him, knowing Dumbledore can tell that Jimin doesn’t for a second believe that claim. Breaking eye contact, he glances down at his lap, trying to figure out how to keep this conversation going. Trying to figure out why he’s even here.
Jimin looks down at himself and the pile of incriminating evidence, cursing his idiocy when he realizes just how bad this situation must look. A student out of bed way past curfew, barging into the headmaster’s office holding weeks of research and making outrageous claims about a potentially dangerous student. And he’s a Ravenclaw no less.
Shit. He probably thought I was some nosy little fucker trying to expose her and get her expelled.
Knowing that he’s risking a lot by being straightforward, he takes a single deep breath and meets Dumbledore’s eyes, his own filled with determination.
“Sir, I know about Y/n Y/l/n, and I know you do, too. I need to know how to take care of her. I need to know how to help her. I need you to tell me what to do because, to be honest with you, I’m freaking out.” The way Dumbledore’s examining him as he speaks tells Jimin that he’s right, but more importantly, it tells Jimin that Dumbledore hadn’t been expecting him to want to help.
“That is a very serious accusation you’re making, Mister Park, especially in this political climate. Very serious.” Jimin doesn’t waver when he responds.
“I know, sir. That’s why you’re the only one I’ve made it to. Because I need your help. Because I know you can help.” Dumbledore narrows his eyes, peering at Jimin over the tops of his half-moon spectacles.
“Have you considered the fact that just you knowing this information at all has placed Miss Y/l/n in more danger than she’s already in?” As soon as the words leave Dumbledore’s mouth, Jimin’s heart is stopping in his chest. All the times that Hoseok and Jungkook had told him to mind his business come rushing back, and he feels himself becoming sick to his stomach. Of course it’s more dangerous for her now that he knows -- he’d been too selfish to even think it through, too nosy for his own good. He had done all this to try to understand her, to try to be a better friend who can help when she needs it, but it’s all bullshit. Everything he thought he had done for her sake had actually been for his. For him and his stupid curiosity.
Lifting his head as a thought comes to mind, Jimin doesn’t even think twice before speaking.
“Can you erase my memories?” The headmaster’s eyebrows fly to his hairline, his expression becoming amused as Jimin continues rambling. “Can’t you obliviate me or something? Wouldn’t that be the best way for me to help her? Wait… but do you have to erase everything I know about her -- will I still know her? Can you make sure I still know her? I really like her! I don’t like Hoseok or Jungkook very much -- they kind of scare me -- but I like her! I don’t want to forget her, but also if me knowing that she’s a werewolf is only going to cause her more trouble, then I really think you should make me forget--” Dumbledore lifts his hand calmly, effectively silencing a frantic Jimin.
“Have you always had such a one-track mind, Mister Park?” Jimin smiles weakly, offering a half-joking response.
“It’s my only redeeming Ravenclaw quality…” Dumbledore chuckles before scratching at his forehead with a heavy sigh.
“Unfortunately -- and I do truly mean that -- I cannot erase a student’s memories. So, you and I will need to continue this difficult conversation.” Jimin considers the man’s words, knowing that it really would be better for everyone if he had his mind wiped clean and hating that he’d unknowingly put Y/n even more in harm’s way. He looks up when Dumbledore sighs again.
“Mister Park, you do understand that you are strictly forbidden from informing anyone else of this situation, yes?” When Jimin nods immediately, opening his mouth to assure the man that he wouldn’t say a word, Dumbledore only shakes his head. “No, Mister Park, I’m not sure you really understand. This situation is infinitely more complicated than you could ever imagine, so it is absolutely imperative that you keep this information to yourself.” Jimin blinks, unsure what’s meant by ‘infinitely more complicated’, but he nods again.
“I’ve put her in enough danger just by being here, Sir -- I’m not breathing a word of this to anyone.” Dumbledore examines him a moment longer, essentially staring into Jimin’s soul to gauge his trustworthiness. Eventually he nods, leaning back in his chair.
“What advice would you like me to give you, Mister Park?” Jimin stays silent, thinking hard about any way that he can make Y/n’s life easier, especially after all the trouble he’s caused up to now. His mind flashes back to the conversation he’d overheard in the library. He opens his mouth slowly, choosing his words with care.
“Sir… how does a student that isn’t even taking Potions know how to brew the wolfsbane potion? Isn’t it nearly impossible?” Jimin sees Dumbledore’s eyes flicker with recognition, and the headmaster responds cautiously.
“…If that student isn’t taking any kind of Potions course at all, they’d need to already be an expert from having dedicated all their studies to the art of potionmaking. They would also need an immense amount of private mentoring, even if they are taking Potions. We do not teach the wolfsbane potion in the curriculum. As I’m sure you can imagine, it wouldn’t fare well in these times…” Jimin squints, putting the pieces together quickly in his mind.
“And where would a student like that find this kind of… private mentoring?” The headmaster hums at Jimin’s question, peering down at him with knowing eyes.
“Well, Mister Park, if you wish to receive mentoring on much… safer forms of potionmaking, I’m sure Professor Slughorn would be happy to help you. However, if you are asking me about Mister Jung Hoseok of Slytherin House, and if you are wondering just how he became capable of caring for Miss Y/l/n at the young age of 13, well… you’re looking at his mentor.”
--
When Jimin leaves Dumbledore’s office almost an hour later, he feels like his head is going to explode. The nights of sleeplessness seem to also have come rushing back to him at once, and he’s not sure if he’s going to collapse first from the exhaustion or from the weight of everything he knows now. For a moment, he considers that maybe he really should ask someone to erase his memories -- Jungkook or Hoseok, perhaps.
Yeah, I’m sure they’d absolutely love to do me that favor.
Dragging his feet as he trudges down the corridor in the direction of Ravenclaw tower, Jimin stops short at a window when movement down by the Black Lake catches his eye. Almost as if thinking about them has caused them to materialize before him, Jimin watches the silhouette of Jung Hoseok stroll casually down by the shoreline, followed not long after by Jeon Jungkook racing toward him, a body perched precariously on his back. It’s not hard to see that Y/n’s clinging weakly to him as he runs, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he keeps his hands hooked under her knees. Jimin can see that she’s got a gown on from the Hospital Wing, and it’s obvious that Jungkook and Hoseok have snuck her out from under Madam Pomfrey’s stern supervision.
They head for the Forbidden Forest, Y/n reaching back for Hoseok when Jungkook passes him. She beckons him forward, and Jimin watches as the three of them disappear together into the trees. He sighs deeply when he can no longer see them, muttering to himself under his breath as he makes his way to his room, overcome with extreme guilt at the entire situation.
“You’ve really gone and done it now, you fucking idiot.”
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Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series
• Ch. 12: Changes •
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A/N: The missing gaps in time are on purpose since they will be in book 2 as flashbacks, which will include references to events you have not read yet. All fluff and shenanigans this chapter to make up for last, I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: brief mention of nausea and gore towards the very end, but otherwise, tooth-rotting fluff!
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬
𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧
𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬
𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧' 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡
              - David Bowie, Changes
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
- 𝗠𝗜𝗗 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -
    "I still can't believe you went after Bowers," Richie scoffs.
    As he steps off his porch and onto his lawn he looks over at his best friend and takes another gander at the bruises and welts littering her skin. Her lip was still busted and despite his and his mother's efforts to clean her bottom lip of blood, it must have started bleeding again sometime during the night as more had crusted over.
    "Yeah, well," she shrugs. "It felt good,"
    "Yeah," he snorts. "It looks like it,"
    "You know what I mean," She elbowed him and he nodded with a little laugh.
    "What d'ya want to do? I mean, we could keep standing around here like a bunch of idiots, but-" he shrugs, hands falling into his pockets, and Y/n smiles.
    "I dunno," she shrugs. A wince falls over her face, a painful-looking one at that. "But I don't think I'm gonna be welcome back at the Capitol Theatre any time soon."
    Richie nodded, a ghostly look falling over his face at all that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours alone. He still couldn't believe she had done that. He still couldn't believe a lot of things but her being in his corner after what she had found out seemed a little harder to believe right now. Especially after the junkyard... But - Jesus, that was already a week and a half ago, it felt like only hours.
    He could hear her words from the park the other day in his ears and he suddenly felt the urge to pay her back. He smiled his charming crooked smile and hoped for the best.
    "You still craving fries?"
    "Always," she answered, a look of suspicion written in her features. "Why?"
    Y/n didn't know why she kept asking these questions when she knew the answer. She didn't at all like the look growing in his eyes or the stupid feeling of guilt growing in her stomach.
    "Cause I'm prepared to make a deal with ya toots,"
     "Oh, yeah?"
    "Sure am," he says, patting his hand over his left pocket. "I'd been saving up for a long weekend at the arcade but that's a bust. And I just got a raise on my allowance ━ that's again, toots. Allowance. It's the money you get when you do stuff for people, you might never have heard of it--"
    "Is there a point here, Rich? Cause if so, you better get to it faster,"
    "Point is, I'm packing and I'm also craving milkshakes. So how's about I treat you to the biggest pile of fries your staved ass has ever seen--"
    Y/n shoots him a knowing look, ready to detest when he holds out a finger.
    "If," he continues. "you take me there."
    "Take you there?"
    "Take me there," he nodded. "By piggyback."
    Y/n gave thought to this, all while hiding behind an unimpressed look. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starving.
    Richie shrugged. "Hey, you're the one always saying you don't want to feel like charity. Well, this ain't charity, this is work with a reward. Take it or leave it,"
    Her unimpressed look grows stronger in an attempt to buy her time. But it's useless, her stomach answers for her with a long growl and a smile sneaks up on her.
    She steps forward, crouching down a bit for him to jump on her back. "Alright, let's get this over with."
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
    "You know, I was really worried about carrying you, but dude, you weigh like nothing. You're a fucking bean pole," Y/n says.
    She comes to a slow before straightened her back letting him slide off her back and onto the ground. The two of them had arrived at the nearest diner in the town square where they now stood.
    "Well, not to brag or anything, but," he fluffs his collar. "I took a massive shit before we left,"
    "Ugh!" a shocked and uncomfortable laugh breaks loose from Y/n and she sticks out her tongue in disgust. "Regretting this already."
    She threw open the doors and the two found themselves inside one of Derry's lesser diners.
    It smelled like sausage and coffee beans, and it had a vibrant red and black theme. There were maybe nine or ten people there, little kids included and they could hear the jukebox blasting a David Bowie song. Y/n had a hard time enjoying it with the combination of a full bladder and an empty stomach so she turns to Richie and nudges him with her elbow.
    "I'm gonna run to the restroom. Get us a booth?"
    "Do your thing," Y/n nods and disappears around the corner. As his eyes follow her, they land on the corner in question she had disappeared around where there sat the jukebox.
    He wanders over, eyeing the machine as Changes reaches a crescendo. A mischievous smile blooms as the lights from the window illuminated his face.
    "Three plays for a dollar, huh?"
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
    When Y/n returned from the restroom, she had expected to find Richie lounging in a booth somewhere, feet up and bugging the employees. She did not expect to turn the corner and nearly collide with the boy as he stood at the Jukebox and feeding all his money into it.
    "Dude! I carried you here, you owe me fries!"
    "And you shall get them my liege," answered Richie in a Shakespearean tone. "But first!" He dropped the act and looked away from the Jukebox for the first time, wearing an almost evil grin. "A social experiment,"
    Y/n's brow furrowed as she watched Richie punch in the same Tom Jones song over and over and over. It was then she caught on to what he was doing. She held out a hand as her eyes watched the Jukebox.
    "Hey, hey, hey, wait," she said, stopping Richie in his tracks.
    He looked up at her with a pout. "Relax, toots. I saved just enough for their biggest basket of fries, you'll get them." Then Richie saw the look on her face. He could practically see the gears turning.
    "No, not that. It's just..." she said, eyes never leaving the list of songs. "Before you put in more, you should throw in one It's Not Unusual,"
    And that's when the afternoon went from good to great.
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
    By now, the duo had ordered and waited. They now sat tucked into a corner booth with a great view of the street corner and the passers-by of Derry. Changes had long since ended, and the remaining songs in the queue had trickled out. Richie memorized the song queue and was silently counting down until the big moment as he sat across from his battered-up best friend.
    Her busted lip poked out in a bored pout, her chin propped up on her palm as she balanced her head on the table while looking out at the graying town landscape. It always escaped her how Derry could possibly look so gloomy on even the hottest, brightest days of summer. Until recently that is, the truth all too clear to her and her friends now.
    The thought of the Losers scattered all over this hellhole only added to the gloom. They should all be here, together. Pointlessly debating which condiment goes best with fries, not fighting over... Over what they had fought over.
    Y/n's eyes finally broke away from the manhole at the center of the little intersection outside and wandered over to Richie. He had stolen the salt and pepper shakers from a few empty (and not so empty) tables and was currently doing his best to construct a salt and pepper shaker tower. His tongue was sticking out from between his curled lips and his glasses were sliding to the end of his nose at the angle he looking. The tower was nearly three shakers high and Y/n could hear him muttering, 'where's Haystack when you need him?' under his breath.
    The gloom Y/n had been thinking so intently on was suddenly ebbed away at the sight, and the corners of her lips hooked into a small smile.
    At least she had her favorite Trashmouth.
    "If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I'm gonna catch a cold," said Richie, never once looking up from his tower.
    Y/n snorts. "You're unbearable,"
    Richie shrugs defensively. "Hey, you're the one who said we're stuck with each other," he clicks his tongue and winks. "No going back on that kind of deal,"
    "Oh, I meant what I said," Y/n releases her chin and folds both arms on the table. She hated getting all serious again, but she just needed to be sure. Her voice softens, trying to catch Richie's eye. "All of it, okay?"
    Richie's hand around the salt shaker stops, and he pries his eyes off the tower and to his best friend. Despite her intentions and promises, everything that transpired the day before -- good and bad -- flooded over him and made him tense.
    She suddenly offered him her pinky and a small smile.
    "Stuck forever?"
    Richie rolls his eyes. He didn't quite know who to blame, maybe just the losers in general, but he was going all soft and lame.
    "Like my ass and a toilet seat, toots,"
    He locked his pinky with hers and the deal was sealed forever.
    Y/n leaned back on her side of the booth and took a large swig of the complimentary water as her eyes returned to the streets. The chatter of the diner had died down a little. There weren't as many people since they got there, but they were still filtering in and out. But when Y/n had a hard time shaking off the images she had of her best friend in the state he had been, she deems it safe enough to lean forward and lowered her voice.
    "You know," she began picking at her napkin, making slow and tiny tears here and there. "I--" she sighs, not knowing how or where to begin. "I wouldn't blame you."
    Richie, having abandoned his shaker tower, frowns.
"I wouldn't blame you if maybe, it was -- or is hard to be..." she shakes her head again and rubs her forehead trying to find the words. "I wouldn't blame you if it was hard to be around me and Eddie," She blurts.
    "I'm gonna stop you right there," Richie says. "We're not gonna do that, okay? You have exceeded your sappy meter and you're gonna need to wait about 48 hours for it to charge up again. I think we've both had enough, right?"
    Y/n swallowed her words. She swallowed any promise she was holding out to him that their feelings for Eddie wouldn't change anything. That she wouldn't ever want to stand in their way, however true it was. And instead, she made a new one.
    "Let's just agree, whatever happens, happens. Let that be whatever it needs to be. Even if that means neither of us gets to see that adorable, asthmatic pipsqueak ever again. Deal?"
    Y/n fought the bittersweet smile threatening to appear. She could see it now. Richie knew what he needed to know about himself now, and that was already a lot for him to handle. She could see in his eyes he wasn't ready for the possibility of whatever was his feelings for Eddie Kaspbrak.
    Y/n's stomach turns to knots when the thought crosses her mind, but that only confirms to her it was time.
    She looks around the diner, looking for prying eyes and she still finds none. She leans in, voice lowered as she fiddles with her napkin again. "I'm uh--," she clears her throat. "I've never told anyone this, but..."
    She lets out a sharp breath. "Well, let's just say Eddie isn't the first Loser I've ever had feelings for,"
    Richie shakes his head, making a "what am I supposed to do with that?" face at her sudden shyness. She only gives him a solid stare until it finally clicks.
    Richie collapses against the seatback with a gaping, triumphant look.
    "No. Fucking. Way," Richie slaps his hands on the table and leans forward, and an ugly excited laugh comes barreling out of his chest. "You big homo!"
    "Would you fucking shut up?!" Y/n hisses, reaching over and shoving him back against his seat by his forehead. She looks around the diner and determines no one had heard that. Maybe except one guy in his forties, but that was most likely about him knowing they did something to the jukebox. He was sat with his young kids, looking tired and all too suspicious of their laughter at the jukebox. Finally, she laughs a little. "Beep, beep you moron."
    "You telling me you and Little Orphan Annie...?"
    "I'm saying," Y/n sighs, shrugging her shoulders. "I meant it when I said you're not alone, alright?"
    The look in Richie's eyes hardly changes.
    "No!" She answers. "No, nothing's happened but..." Y/n shook her head. "I had feelings for a really long time, up until about two years ago."
    "Wowza," Richie sighs, leaning back into his seat and plopping one hand on the table. He sighs. "We sure know how to pick em,"
    "Yeah, you could say that," Y/n laughs.
    In fact, that's all she could say. A million things ran through her head, things she wanted to say to Richie but couldn't. Cause when she looked in Richie's eyes at that moment she -- they both -- knew everything unsaid could remain that way. With one look they knew. They knew that they could both count on each other, have each other's back. And that included Eddie too. They knew that no matter who held Eddie's heart, they could both agree that Eddie's happiness -- and each other's -- was most important.
    The sound of brass instruments invaded the atmosphere, pulling the duo's eyes to the jukebox across the diner. Their faces lit up in matching grins, both of them nearly forgetting the psychological horror they had just unleashed upon the diner.
    "What's new pussycat? Woah, wo~ah,"
    And thus began the best meal they ever had.
- 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -
    Y/n relished at the demanding burst of cool air that bombarded her sweaty skin as she stepped inside Keene's pharmacy. The grip on the money she had scraped together tucked tightly in her right palm grew tighter when the shopkeeper's bell announced her arrival. Her eyes fell to her injured leg, and by now her feet have already begun their journey forward towards the first aid supplies. The last of the bandages secured around her leg, and she winced at the faded and stained cloth that was in dire need of a change.
    Her eyes pick up from the ground when she hears a choked gasp only to find the boy that had been occupying her thoughts standing before her.
    "Y/n," His voice is meek and heavy with sadness, and you can hear the absence of breath in his lungs that she always seemed to create.
    Despite the staggering stampede of emotions she felt, she found herself releasing a chuckle. "Hey, shrimp."
    The name itself would have been strong enough to send hooks into the corner of his lips, tugging them into a half-smile had it not been for the sight before him; she was a wreck. Looked as if she had been put through an actual wringer and his heart stops for a moment, in fear. At that moment he is grateful he has his inhaler, Y/n had a talent for taking his breath away but he never would have dreamed of it happening this way. Already his mind is going at twice its speed, a mad swarm of thoughts that dizzy his head, and as quickly as he can he tries to pluck one - just one - thing to say to her. When he finally speaks, he is thankful that his voice has returned to him.
    "How's your leg?"
    He doesn't have to ask, the first thing he saw - the very feature that tipped him off about her - was the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around her left calf. He couldn't imagine why it would still be bleeding, much less this profusely given how long ago it had been. Perhaps it had opened back up. And Eddie felt it best not to address the new set of scrapes and bandages that were scattered across her arms and legs, though each one filled him with worry. But her eye... it was completely swollen, and several shades darker than a usual bruise.
    She grew rather sick looking at the question and instantly he was filled with dread. Had It gotten to her again? Was it something new entirely? Either way, he felt a great deal of guilt he hadn't been there, and more than anything he wanted her safe. Maybe, if it wasn't too crazy, be the one to look out for her. To protect her.
    "I just," she swallows thickly, eyes darting around to avoid his eye line.
    Eddie tilts his head, encouraging her to continue. She looks as if she's about to unload a great deal off of her chest, but after a moment she shakes her head.
    "Nothing," she lies. "Just need new bandages."
    Eddie's horrified expression does not waver, but only intensifies, zeroing in on her. He just simply can't ignore the state she's in. And while every instinct inside him screams to jump in and help, he knows that's not his call nor his place. But he had to ask, he had to know.
    "Are you okay?" He blurts suddenly. He mentally slapped himself. Of course she wasn't. "What happened...? You're leg? You're eye? Are you in trouble at home? Was it...?"
    She grows tense, and Eddie scolds himself once more when he sees her walls rebuilding themselves. He hated his stupid word vomit sometimes.
    "No, Eddie!" she says tiredly, sighing at her slight outburst. "I'm..." she sighs again, staring at the floor, looking almost... calculated.
    Finally, she picks her head back up, her expression flat, but her tone a bit softer. "Just Bowers. The usual."
    Eddie couldn't help but feel like she was lying. And that hurt him. But he understood. If she had pressed him about things at home he probably would have done the same. Eddie sighed deeply as well.
    He missed the way things were.
    He missed Y/n.
    He missed the feeling he got around her, the storm of butterflies and mind-numbing fits of laughter they'd bring out in one another. He missed the way his skin would tingle like every blood cell was on fire when their skin accidentally brushed together. Eddie missed the way he'd lose himself in thoughts about her like he was now.
    Eddie didn't realize it until that last thought crossed his mind, but this was the first time in weeks he felt something other than anxiety and fear. And maybe he was crazy, but when he looked in Y/n's eyes now he thought he saw it too -
    "I'm sorry, Eddie," she says, breaking him from his daydream, sending him falling back down to earth. "But I really need to take care of this."
    He glances down at her leg, the bandage still soaked with blood and he feels fear squeeze his chest again. She was leaving. And that meant he had to, as well. He would have to say goodbye and go back home to his mother. He could hear her haunted cries, whining at him and wailing. What took you so long, Eddie? Don't you know what you're doing to my heart?
    Eddie goes rigid at the thought when he realizes; the last time he saw Y/n... Those horrible things his mother had said to her and he... Jesus, what she must think.
    "Y-Y/n," he sputters desperately as she begins to limp around him. She had gotten no answer for once again he had gotten lost in his thoughts. But he couldn't have it end like this. He just couldn't. "Y/n, I'm sorry."
    She stops in her tracks and looks back at him, thoughtfully. A sad smile graces her face.
    "I know, shrimp,"
    Her eyes hold a thousand words, a million things she wants to say to him as he wants to say to her. But they die out, and she turns away.
    "Y/n!"
    He couldn't let her go, he just couldn't. Then why was this so difficult? He always had a mouthful to say, but around Y/n L/n, Eddie was always speechless.
    "I wanna..." he gulps, a pleading, sincere look in his eyes. "I wanna see you again." He admits.
    Y/n smiles sadly. Like she doesn't want to let him go either. But still, she gives him a pleading look after gesturing to her leg.
    "Eddie, I gotta take care of this,"
     His head sunk to the floor and he nodded, embarrassed. Of course, what the hell was he thinking? She didn't need him coming in and messing things -
    Her sudden sigh broke his thoughts. "Meet me outside in five? I could use some help,"
     A nervous smile broke out, stretching and hurting his cheeks and Eddie nodded when he met her eye. He was out the door without another word, back in the alley where he had first bandaged her up all those months ago.
    His mind raced with possibility and more unanswered questions. What would he do, what would he say? What had happened to her, and could he have been there to stop it? His face still burned with embarrassment when he thought of the things he let his mother say to her, how livid he was with himself.
    It was all he could do not to bounce off the walls from the jitters. The crates from the last alley visit, or at least some like it, remained and so Eddie eagerly took a seat. His knee bounced up and down at unnatural speeds as his mind raced, his eyes wandering the alley as the wind swept in a familiar summer breeze against his cheeks.
    "I really need to focus right now," he orders, his hands making delicate work of the bandage over the new kid's stomach.
    "You need to focus?" Richie snorts over his shoulder, causing Eddie's cheeks to burn.
    "Yeah, can you go get me something?"
    "Jesus! What do you need?"
    "Go get my bifocals. I hid 'em in my second fanny pack."
    Y/n leaned forward, balanced on her knees with a crooked smile that would with Eddie for days. "You have a second fanny pack?"
    The burning in his cheeks grew, and Stan joined in. "Yeah, why do you have two?"
    Eddie didn't dare meet anyone's eye, let alone Richie or Y/n's.
    "I need to focus right now and it's a long story. I don't want to get into it."
    Besides! He was telling the truth! He needed to focus. Who knows what kind of shit has gotten into this kid's system by now?
    Eddie had nearly finished with the new kid's bandages when he heard the jingle of the store bell.
    "Yep. Thanks." Came the hardened voice of Y/n backing out and towards the alley with a pressed and forced smile before turning for the alley and away from whoever she had been talking to. Eddie was the only one to have caught the small whispered words under her breath from the silence of the alley. "-for nothing, I guess..."
    Eddie shot up from his seat, subconsciously straightening out his shirt.
    "Everything okay? What was that all about?" He asked as Y/n finally joined him. Eddie sputtered, mentally kicking himself for prying. "I mean, you don't have to tell me or anything, it's just you seemed frustrated. You know what never mind, you probably want to get your leg fixed up, right?"
   Eddie stopped again, shifting on his feet when he realized Y/n must be waiting to talk. "Sorry," he mumbled. And to his great surprise, she smiled.
    "Don't be. I've missed your word vomit," she joked.
    Eddie could feel the corners of his lips twitching up in a smile, and something happened to him he hadn't felt in a long time; flutters invaded his chest, making the air he breathed feel lighter and his stomach was doing flips. And he would have fallen harder had he known Y/n's stomach was doing flips right along with him, and a burning sensation lighting up her neck and ears.
    "Well, here-" Eddie said, snapping out of his daze, no longer able to stand by and ignore the gash in her leg. He supposed it really was like old times. He stepped aside, gesturing for the crates and taking the bag of supplies Y/n had handed over.
    "For real though," Eddie began, eyeing her nervously as he unzipped his fanny bag and begun fishing inside for hand wipes. "What happened, Y/n?"
    Her smile fell, and her eyes dropped to her lap where her fingers fiddled together. To Eddie, it felt like a long time before she finally answered.
    "A lot's happened since Niebolt, I'll leave it at that,"
    Eddie nodded, and stepped forward, lowering himself to his knees before her injured leg, and began unwrapping the first of the supplies from her grocery bag. "It feels like years ago,"
    "Yeah, it does," Y/n croaks.
    There's another small silence and Eddie feels a tug in his chest when her eyes linger over him. He only spares a moment to meet her eyes back before taking a deep breath and holding it. With a wince, he unraveled the cloth and quickly discarded it. He tried not to linger on the injury; the edges of her claw-like scars remained, but it looked as if they had been messily pried back open.
    Like deja vu, Eddie found himself battling to keep his lunch in his stomach, but the overall worry in his system for one of his best friends triumphed over it this time around. He dismissed the urge to gag and instead darted his eyes to Y/n in between his work.
    "So..." he asked, realizing he didn't really know where to start. "how have you been? Other than, you know," he laughed nervously.
    To his relief, Y/n smiled.
    "It's hard not being around the losers. I only ever see Richie anymore. Even Bev and I haven't really spoken since the fight, which has been really hard. We've been in each other's lives for so long,"
    As Eddie finishes cleaning the wound, his heart sinks a little at her words. True, he missed Beverly very much. But he also knew all too well what Y/n spoke of, and judging by the look in her eye as she softens at him, she knows it too. She gives him a gentle nudge with her foot.
    "He misses you too," she says, growing another small smile. "Won't shut up about you, in fact. Which is saying something... Guess I'm one to talk, though," she adds, watching him nervously out of the corner of her eye, and Eddie's heart skipped another beat.
    "What about you, shrimp? Dare I ask?" She says with a smile.
    Eddie, Y/n noticed, had been unusually quiet. By now, on any other occasion, he would have talked laps around her by now but something was keeping him. Maybe he just feels a bit out of step, she thinks, as she did. It had been far too long since things had been normal for either of them. But something told her he was now particularly quiet perhaps because he wasn't all that eager to share how things had been for him since the losers split. She couldn't imagine things had been well at home with his mother given everything that had transpired.
    So she didn't pry. She changes the subject, hoping to get his mind off of whatever might be bothering him. Her mind returns to his previous questions, and she bites the bullet.
    "Quitting my job." She says finally, stunning Eddie enough to pull his attention away for a split second. "You wondered what I was doing there. And aside from restocking, I was um... I was quitting my job."
    "You got a job at Keene's Pharmacy? When?" Eddie asked, reaching for a strip of gauze.
    Y/n seemed to think about it for a minute, counting the days in her head before shrugging. Leaning forward, she holds the gauze in places Eddie begins applying the bandages. "I guess a little over two weeks after Niebolt. I did little things around the store, this and that really,"
    "How come I never saw you?" Eddie asked, and Y/n shrugged.
    "He had me running errands most of the time," and she smiled a little. "But sometimes I'd stick around a little longer. I'd offer to sweep or restock the shelves or something. It's stupid, I know, but... I don't know, I guess I was hoping to see some admittedly cute... shrimpy little dude come walking in to refill his inhaler. Is that stupid?"
    Eddie paused, unable to hide the smile or the raging blush taking over his face. Y/n smiled to herself when she saw it, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling a little bit of it too. Finally, Eddie spoke. Or at least, he tried to. His voice came out hoarse and he cleared his throat, quickly shaking his head as he secured the bandages in place and began disinfecting his hands.
    "No. No, that's not stupid at all. I mean, I don't know if I'd say shrimpy, necessarily, maybe a little skinny but-"
    Y/n laughed, smiling hard at the boy she hadn't stopped thinking about for weeks. Like Eddie, she hadn't realized just how much she had missed him until now. But, she hoped, maybe she could change that.
    Eddie trailed off, his ears burning at her laugh but a smile on his face all the same. At this moment, everything was perfect. Or seemingly so, at least. And then...
    "Thanks, Doctor K,"
     He smiled, a sinking feeling in his chest knowing what was coming next as she hoisted herself back on her feet. "Yeah, of course."
    A silence falls over the two, a silence they know won't last.
    "I guess I should get going," Y/n says finally, gesturing down the alleyway. "I'm meeting up with Richie later, he's swinging by my place." And for a moment, she looks hopeful and Eddie already knows what she's going to ask. "You're welcome to come. We both really miss you,"
    Yet again, Eddie Kaspbrak finds himself with a million thoughts racing in his head, but no words on his tongue. What could he say that wouldn't hurt her? What could he say that wouldn't essentially admit he was still a coward who couldn't stand up to his own mother? What could he say?
    But evidently, he doesn't have to. Y/n can see it in his eyes, and any trace of hope deflates with her. She nods sadly, eyes now on the ground and her freshly bandaged leg. "I get it, Eddie. It's fine. You don't have to say anything."
    "Y/n..." He didn't know what felt worse; knowing he let her down, or the sound of her using his real name.
    "Really, it's okay,"
    But it wasn't okay. And Eddie knew that. Today he had been given a second chance with Y/n, and already he had fucked it up. Or so he thought...
    A smile returned to her face just before she left; it wasn't nearly as bright as it had been moments ago, but it was as real as any other he had seen all summer. And then she spoke. She spoke the three words over her shoulder as she disappeared out of view that returned a familiar spark to his chest.
    "I'll call you."
    There was hope yet.
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georgemackayhey · 4 years
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Hotter Than Summer
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a/n: Remember when I promised more NSFW stuff? Yeah so this is by far the smuttiest thing I've ever written. Do Not interact with this is you're underaged. But if you're legal, have fun! 18+ only
w/c: 8k
───※ ·❆· ※───
Every year, you went on a trip with your family.
Your parents and siblings would cram into one car, and meet up with your neighbors in the countryside, under the same roof. A cabin that over looked a lake, that housed a forest, that wrapped all the way around to where you were.
You'd go in the dead of summer, when school let out. When the mosquitoes were rampant and the heat was crippling. You couldn't ever figure out what was so enjoyable about heading into the middle of no place to melt inside a rented home for a few weeks, but you went back each year. Of course, swimming in the lake was a blast and campefires at midnight were such fun. But that was mostly due to the fact that you got to spend such quality time with your favorite old neighbours.
Your fathers best university pal, and his wife only moved across the street when you were well into your high school career. But your dad was chuffed still to have his oldest friend one hop skip and jump away. Your mom was just as fond of the family, and soon you were sharing dinners and going to festivals and movies with them and their son, George.
When you met, you ignorantly assumed there was no way he wasn't a jock, or something equally as brain dead. No one with a face that pretty could possibly be smarter than a blade of grass.
But it wasn't long after they moved in, untill his parents asked you to show him around the school. And even though he was older and so vastly different from you, one morning, you found out George wasn't at all how you'd imagined. As you took him through the school halls, he went on and on about the theater program and marveled over your decently sized and poorly decorated library. He even thanked you for wasting your free break guiding him round to help him make sense of the schedule in his hands.
And after then, you had it bad. So that was precisely the reason you decided to steer clear. You gave small waves in the halls, and pretended not to scream internally when he sat next to you at lunch, every now and again. You went about your day pretending you were much more preoccupied with your other friends, and saved all your hopelessly romantic daydreams about George for your diary.
Until summer, of course. When you showed up to the cabin with your family and your siblings and some of their friends. George would be there, and you let yourself trail behind him like a puppy then. But he always asked for your company, really. He always dragged you to go swimming or to walk three miles to the nearest convenient shop for snacks. He'd sit next to you during rainy afternoon movie marathons and entertain all of your fireside ramblings.  
But it had been three years since you'd spent a summer in the cabin. Your last time was the summer after you graduated. George's last time was two years prior, and nothing had quite been the same since.
///
You knew he wouldn't be there, this year. You should have been off, just as well, drinking till dawn or whatever else college kids wasted evenings doing.
His parents were there, though, and spent at least a minute each hugging you hello. After then, you trekked through the familiar home, up to the room you always claimed as your own, and you pretended not to feel dramatically sad. And for the next week, you sat around the fireside with your siblings, and laughed at their dumb jokes. You swam in the lake all alone. And you listened to George's parents yammer on about how proud they were of all his latest and most admirable achievements.
The last day of your visit, you sat alone in the sun room with a book, but only used it as a fan while you reminisced of all the times you'd sat doing the same before.
"I don't know why we come here when it's this hot." You sighed across the table full of left over breakfast food. Your family had migrated toward the back garden to play volleyball, but you couldn't be bothered trudging through the heat.
"I've always wanted to come in the autumn, watch the leaves change, make better use of all this firewood." You never did, because that's when school started and holidays were left to plan in for insufferable days like now.
George's mother was setting a pitcher of spiked punch on the table, something she made every year you'd been old enough to enjoy in her company.
"You know, it's so funny you say that." She grinned, shooting you a bright glance as she moved to pour you a drink.
"Our Geogre will be home this fall and he was asking about heading up to the cabin." She began. You used your book fan with a little more vigour.
"We, unfortunately, won't be able to make that happen of course, with his father's job and my plans of travelling before snowfall." She rambled, the ice in her drink clinking as she raised it to her lips. Your family's laughter rang muffled from beyond the glass wall of windows that made up the breakfast nook. And the heat, like a blanket over you. Like a pool you stayed trapped drowning in.
"You know- you kids should come here on your own! You're plenty old enough now to handle that responsibility and you always were such good friends. I bet Georgie would just love that." His mother's smile was audible in her tone and beaming from her face. You tried not to gawk at her, not to scrabble to sit straight. You casually lowered your leg from the arm of the chair and looked to the woman with a turn of your head.
"Oh I don't know, do ya think-"
"Yes, yes!" She interrupted with a furrowed brow like this was very serious. "I'm meant to call him later. I'll pass the idea along for you, love."
With a soft grin, her mind was made up. You shrugged, hoping it would make her believe you wouldn't be let down either way. But you'd never wanted anything more.
///
She got through to George, and apparently, according to his mother, he very excitedly accepted the plans. You weren't too sure that was entirely true, but you couldn't help but do a little happy dance behind the closed doors of your cabin bedroom. It was always as you left it, green quilt, matching rug, and the few framed albums you hung to make up for the bland wallpaper.
You left it, thrilled by the thought of returning in two months, and stayed glued to your phone till then. Geogre was meant to text you when the time crept nearer for your roughly made plans to become a little more organized.
You weren't sure what you were so excited for. He'd probably bring a girl, or a least mention one. There was no way he didn't have his pick of dozens vying for his attention. Still, the idea of spending a weekend in the cabin in such close quarters with your old crush was thrilling.
///
He texted you a month before you ended up planning to stay, and your exchange was jarringly short. George shot you a date and time. You agreed. Then he asked if you minded if a couple of his friends tagged along. And of course, you didn't. And that was that.
The summer dragged on, and at the first sign of autumn in the air you practically had all your bags packed.
When the time came, you gave your family quick goodbyes and arrived to the cabin a couple of hours early. The air was crisp, and the lake looked cold from your safe distance away. You breezed through the thin fog and smiled to yourself when you stepped into the place.
Everything was just how you'd left it. There were even still a few notes tapped to the refrigerator. You moved through the wooden structure and noticed how high the ceilings were for the first time in a while. And after washing a few sheets, and sorting out some of the food you'd brought for dinner, your solitude was interrupted.
There was a rattle at the door, and when it opened your heart stopped. He was here. George was all grown up. You hadn't seen him since the last time he came out here with the lot of you, the summer after he graduated. Years had passed, and now his hair was a little longer. He was a little leaner, a little taller, maybe. His nose was reddened by the cold but his smile was familiar. You tried not to gape at him and the way he seemed like an actual supermodel while he rested his bag by the door and looked to you, his grin growing wider.
"Hello, stranger." You smiled.
"Y/n!" He called with outstretched arms. You abandoned your place at the stove to accept his embrace and prayed he wouldn't be able to feel your quickened heartbeat.
"George." You beamed. Because he was your friend. At least, he had been once. His smile remained as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle and mumbled a hello right in your ear.
"Where are all your friends, then?" You cleared your throat, trying everything to keep your cool. Did he really have to speak so low in your ear? This weekend might prove to be incredibly awkward...
"Ah, yeah, one cancelled and the other might just as well. He said he'd keep me updated." George winced, running a hand across the back of his neck. "Hope you don't mind boring old me?"
"Of course not." You produced a chuckle. "I'm just making dinner."
And just like that, it felt like old times. George took over the kitchen for a bit, while you bickered over spices and seasonings. And in between stirring up an evening meal, George tucked his bags away in the room he'd always stayed in, and came back to help you set the table.
Conversation never lost its steady pace. George asked you about your budding life after highschool. He asked what you were doing for money and what you dreamed of doing for good. He laughed at some of your best stories and started to trade some of his own.
You'd always felt a bit intimidated by George, but worse now than ever before. He was musing about Hollywood and rambling about his life on movie sets. You nodded along, and watched George's pretty structured face light up as he spoke of his dreams and how some of them had come true.
When you'd finished dinner, your nerves really started up. Here the two of you were, all alone for the first time, maybe ever. There was always someone else near by in your knowing each other. Whether it be here, back home, or at school. You weren't sure how to handle all the empty space, so to occupy your time, you started a fire in the den. It was a cozy little room where everyone usually spent movie nights curled up on the small sofa. You liked to come here to read, when the sun shone brightly through the picture windows.
But it was dark now, and the fire was small. So you stuck nearby to help make it grow and wondered why you and Geogre were here. You wondered if his friend would ever show. You wondered if he'd ever really invited anyone at all.
"I brought beer, but there was some rum stashed away," George spoke himself into the room, holding a bottle and a glass in hand. He held each out to you, offering you take your pick. You picked the rum and thanked him for thinking you might've wanted a choice.
"I think I know you pretty well after all this time." George grinned, sitting on the floor in front of the fire. You were stood there, watching the flames flicker higher, and it took an internal debate for you to sit at his side. Were you making things weird or had they been weird on their own? Just moments ago you were mulling over how normal everything felt. Yeah, must'a just been you.
"I dunno," You huffed as you crossed your legs. "I've changed a lot since the days we used to tolerate each others company."
"Tolerate?" George chuckled. "We both know half our stays in this cabin were made most enjoyable by all the times we band together. We always had such fun."
"We did. Do you think we're too old now to have fun, this time around?" You asked, taking a sip of the rum he offered you. George stalled for a beat, like he was really considering the answer to your question. And then he looked at you and shook his head.
"I hope not." His lithe grin made your throat go dry. So you finished off your rum and stood for a refill. When you settled back in the den, George was halfway through his beer, and you got to talking about life again. He told you the scariest stories of his time away, and you reminisced about some of the traumas of life you and Geogre had been caught up in together when he was only one house away. George went for another beer, and you stayed watching the fire steadily burn.
He returned in silence and the quiet lingered for a long while, with both of you fixated not the flames.
"Remember when you said you'd let me stow away in your luggage when you left, so I could skip out on my physics finale?" You laughed into your drink.  You felt George's eyes turn to search for your own, but you were still too deep in thought. "I failed that quiz, George. You were supposed to be my way out of this town."
"Hmm." George took a swig of his beer as you finished your second glass of rum. "Maybe that's why I've come back."
"That's rich." You chuckled and pointed a look to George. You couldn't hold back your nervous breaths of laughter now. Because he was watching you. His sea blue eyes seemed to search your face. You never recalled a time he looked at you with such undivided attention.
"What's so funny?" George rose a pale brow, taking another sip of beer. And as the answer formed on your lips, you blamed the rum entirely for your lack of critical thinking.
"I used to have the biggest crush on you." You admitted, turning a glance to George. His gaze had yet to break from your face, but you swore his smile grew ever so slightly. He furrowed his brow and shot you a sidelong look, like he didn't believe what you were saying.
"I did!" You laughed, the voice in your head reprimanding you for being so bold, as the words kept pouring out of your mouth. "You were my older, smoking hot neighbour boy. It was all very cliche but true." You shrugged. A blush burnt your cheeks and your mind suddenly caught up with your actions and you'd started to regret everything that had just transpired.
You mumbled a weary curse as you ducked your head away, hoping George wouldn't go on embarrassing you too much about this. You really hadn't planned to out yourself on the first night of your staying here with him. You hadn't planned to ever tell him that.
But George wasn't saying anything. He was just looking at you, like he had been. Like he was trying to figure you out. His eyes travelled from your face to search the reset of you. You watched George's gaze roam across your build while you tried not to combust in a self conscious worry. But the strange tension was too much not to break.
"What are you looking at me like that for?" You feared, hiding your bashful grin by lifting the nearly empty glass of rum to your lips.
"Because you're beautiful." George grinned, laughing a little like this was some big obvious fact.
"You're just tipsy." You shook your head, pointing to his empty bottle of beer and its half full replacement.
"No, you're just beautiful. You always have been." His tone grew more serious. You dared to catch his eye. The flames from a foot away were reflected in his gaze, and something else too. His eyes flicked away from yours to land on your lips. And his parted ever so slightly. If you hadn't dared to glimpse at his mouth, you wouldn't have noticed the way his jaw slacked.
His eye caught yours again and you realized he was moving closer. George was leaning in and your heart was beating a mile a minute and the fire seemed hotter than the dozen summers you'd wasted away here before.
His lips brushed yours before anything, and neither of you moved for a moment. His warm breath ghosted across your face and all your dreams seemed to suddenly come true as his mouth closed against yours.
Slowly, your lips started moving together. But they moved in perfect time, like they were made for it and waiting for this day to come true. George kissed you with a little more intent, as you kissed him back like you'd never get the chance to again. Because you had never once believed anything like this would happen with George. Maybe he was just tipsy. Or lonely. Or bored. You didn't care. You started to believe he had at least a little bit of actual interest in you, with the way he leaned closer and pressed his grip into your side. His tongue brushed against yours as his fingers started creeping closer to your chest. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating like a drum, and if his hand would ever reach its destination. You kissed him hard as encouragement, and he let out the sweetest whimper that would have made your eyes roll if they were open.
And then there was a knock at the door.
"Shit." You let out another nervous laugh, pulling away and catching your breath. You thought George's friends had all cancelled.
"I'm- I'm sorry." George shook his head, swiping hand at his lips and furrowing a brow at another knock on the door.
"Don't be?" You searched George's eyes for a moment and hoped he knew what you were asking. You hoped he watched as you hurried away. Had that really just happened? Had you just been bold enough to do the thing you'd wished of doing since sometime in high school? Was all the gentle passion in his kissing you back fueled by the drinks? Or had he really meant it?
The knocking kept on as you drifted closer. Geeze, for someone who wasn't sure about coming, they sure seemed excited to be here in the middle of the night. You adjusted yourself on the way to unlock the door, and tried not to blanch when you saw who was on the other side.
"Hi kids!" George's mother beamed, a bag in her arms. "My trip got cancelled and your folks weren't busy so we figured we'd come surprise you!"
The group of parents shuffled through the door. Your father toted a bottle of whiskey and your mother held a stack of films in her grasp. They each hugged you, and you scrambled to steady your tone.
"What a treat." You laughed through your teeth. The change in the pace of your evening could have given you whiplash.
"Oh, it's just like old times!" George's mother squealed, finding her son shuffling toward the kitchen to find what all the commotion was about.
"I suppose so." He grinned, accepting his mothers embrace and nodding as she explained that his father was too busy with work to crash the party. With all the tender sweetness you'd fallen for over the years, George said he understood but greeted his mother with kindness all the while. And as your parents rushed to pass hugs his way, George caught your eye. You wanted nothing more than to ask about the question in his gaze. But you feared your weekend with George wouldn't be as you'd once dreamed, like always.
///
You were glad to sit around the dying fire with your family. His mother's laugh was music to your ears. Your father's jokes had George doubled over with laughter. Your mother mused over and over about how glad she was for this surprise getaway.
And you couldn't be too upset, because you relished every moment you got to spend like this. Usually, this cabin was an escape, a place you could come without a care in the world. But now, there was a nagging little worry tumbling around your head, as everyone sat dragging the night on. Loose plans for the next day were made, talk of enjoying nature and making use of the big kitchen. You said something about sleeping in, because that was a rare occasion in your life these days. And here was a place where your wishes were supposed to be granted.
Your mother was the first to head to bed. The other adults decided to as well, but not before recruiting George to help clean up the kitchen neither of you had been very worried about taking total care of earlier in the evening.
You trudged up the stairs and took your turn in the shower, after wishing your mother a lovely night's sleep. She kept walking to the end of the hall, where she and your father enjoyed the best view just overtop of the forest of trees all around you.
While you washed up for the evening, your mind raced in every direction. What had just happened? And what was going to happen now? You'd been through all sorts of unexpected events with George, growing up. But never anything remotely close to... whatever this was. So far, this wasn't at all how you'd envisioned your long-awaited autumn visit in the countryside.
George's mother was soon making her way to bed too. She passed by as you opened the bathroom door and paused to give you a kiss on the cheek. You wished her goodnight and started your creep toward your own room. Before you could get there, George was walking with your father up the stairs, sharing chatter about a sports game from last year.
"Alright well, I'm off to clean up before bed." Your father noted, ruffling your hair on his way past. "Unless you need in here, George." Your father spun and pointed. There was another half bath downstairs, but the one on the second floor was the only one completed with a big shower and a separate tub.
"Ah, just holler when you're finished and I'll have a turn." George nodded as your father spun back toward the loo wishing you goodnight. You caught George's eye as you started back to your room, and prayed the creaking of the floorboard behind you were his footsteps and not just another one of your daydreams.
Sure, and strangely enough, a set of fingers curled around your wrist before you passed through your doorway.
"I believe we have some unfinished business." His voice muttered over your shoulder. Holy shit. How was this happening?
You didn't have time to waste questioning any longer. You only pulled George into the room you'd come to call your own, and shut the door with a gentle click that wouldn't cause any unwanted attention. No sooner than you had, George was on you.
His lips captured yours in a flash, like you'd been lost at sea and were only just being reunited. You threw your arms around his neck and barely held back a shocked giggle when George pulled you flush against him. You could have spent forever this way, in George's strong embrace, sharing the same breath.
He kissed you dizzy and spun you toward the wall. His hands found your chest at long last and he sighed against your mouth as you pulled him closer best you could. His hips pressed into yours and his hand trailed down your front, till his fingers stalled at the button of your sleep shorts.
"Can I?" He asked in a husky breath, looking right at you. You raised a brow, and gave him a nod, only just attempting to catch your breath. You could hardly believe it. But you'd never been more sure. George kept an eye on you for a beat, as you pressed your teeth to your lower lip. And when his hand started to move, you couldn't help but smile.
"Do you have any idea how badly I've always wanted to do this?" George asked, breathing in your ear as his hand disappeared below the fabric of your shorts. "For how long I've dreamed of having my way with you?" A shiver shot through you as he nipped at your neck. It was all very overwhelming. His word. His lips. His fingers, steadily starting to trace all the right places.
"Holy shit, George." You whined, gripping his shoulder for support from melting into a puddle on the floor.
"What? Am I doing alright?" He asked in a snide way, keeping his mouth pressed below your ear, and pressing his fingers against you with more vigour. Your breath caught at the feeling and George hummed happily against your throat.  His fingers travelled further, deeper, till there was no place left for them to go. And when he set his digits into motion, you couldn't help but let out a noise, a small broken cry that tore George's focus from your neck right to you. His fingers stopped moving and his free hand reached your jaw. He held your face in his grasp and seemed to stall a question on his lips. Then with a breath, George asked,
"You're not gonna keep quiet are you?" At the same moment he'd decided your reaction, his fingers started moving again, and his hand that held your jaw moved to cover your mouth.
"Still try, darling, this cabin isn't very big you know?" George grinned, putting his fingers to good use. Your eyes rolled back, and tried as you might, another cry escaped your throat when George picked up his pace. His one hand stayed firm over your mouth as he worked you up and whispered sinful encouragement in your ear. When you could barely feel the floor under your feet, a noise came from the hall. A knock on a distant door.
You groaned as George stalled, and chuckled at your disappointment. His free hand slid down to your throat and his fingers gently curled around there as his eyes watched yours. From behind your door and down the way you heard your father.
"George! Showers free. And don't forget to see your alarm. We're still hiking at dawn!"
You could have cried, really, when you realized your night of fun was halted till further notice. George slipped his fingers from your shorts as you sucked in a breath and let it out like a sigh.
"Don't worry love," George cooed. "I plan on taking good care of you... eventually." The fingers he'd been using found their way to your mouth. You watched his pretty blue eyes flutter as you wrapped your lips and swirled your tongue around his knuckles. You swore he almost reconsidered his leave. But then George straightened and backed away with a clenched jaw and a smile on his lips.
"Get some rest. We're hiking in the morning!" He announced with a wink as he reached for the handle of your door.
"Oh, fuck you." You grinned, feeling empty and full of fire all at once.
"With any luck." George said, before shutting the door behind him.
///
"It's too high!" You worried, searching for a broad rock to step down onto. You and your family had found yourselves at the top of the trail that wound through the forest. But had decided to take a different route back down, around the lake.
"Here look, step there." George spoke up, from the bottom of the path that was broken up. He pointed to a patch of dirt you envisioned crumbling the moment you relied on it. Your mother tutted, and moved past you to take George's advice. Your lovely neighbour extended his hand to your mother who managed her way to safety with his help. Your father followed, helping George's mother, until you were the last one left.
They all stared up at you as you bit your nails and mulled over your game plan.
"Right- we're walkin' on. Get her off, George." Your father waved and turned to follow your mother and George's, who were already ahead gossiping about some tv show. You struggled to hide your blush as Geogre shifted his weight and grinned up to you.
"Do you trust me?" He asked.
"Obviously." You pointed. George reached out, and you held your breath, and stepped where everyone else had. George's hand was strong, but your prediction came true. As you balanced your weight on the patch of dirt, it began to give way. But George was there. He swept you away with ease and balanced you on both feet on the same level of ground as him.
"Did you just want me to save you all along?" George mused, keeping his arms snug around you as you stood.
"Come on." You bit back a smile and pushed George to lead the way, noticing your folks posed for a self at the opening of a man-made bridge.
You all walked on, till you spotted a weather-worn gazebo near the opening of the lake. The sun was unusually bright for the seasons, though a chill balanced in the air. Your gang stalled to rest in the small enclosure and laughed about the adventure you'd been on, and how none of you had ever realized this little nook was out here in all the years you'd been staying right around the bend.
George's mother was the first to head in, saying something about a midday nap. You didn't blame her. You all really had risen with the sun to enjoy the trails before a late lunch. Your mother was next to leave, mentioning just that. Her plans to make a big ridiculous afternoon meal that would likely count as some kind of dinner,  too. Your father followed after her, paranoid about the trek from out of the woods alone.
George stayed and shot you a look as you watched everyone walk away, and turn around the lake. And for a moment, you just talked. Like how you always used too. About life and death and everything in between. All while each pause between topics grew long and heavy.  Soon, you rose from the bench, tired of sitting, but excited to find yourself lingering out here in the sole company of the man you'd been dreaming of keeping all to yourself.
"Do you prefer it here in the summer, or now?" You wondered aloud, because you really wanted to know. The area you'd come to know so well seemed like a different world in the cold.
George followed your ambling, back down the skinny trail from where you'd just come. He waited to respond until he stepped to face you and stalled your meander.
"Now." George smiled, searching your eyes and pushing his nose against yours. The action made your heart flutter and your fists curl in the pockets of your jacket. Then he kissed you so tenderly, like you'd kissed thousands of times before and he was used to the sensation. You, however, were still dazzled by it. Your hands flew up and clung to the jacket he'd left unzipped. You kissed him back like this was your last chance to prove how badly you'd always wanted too. At your fervour, George snaked his arms around you. One of his hands tangled in your hair as his other trailed to your backside.
You had no excuse to hold back your pleased sighs, as George pressed against you, digging his fingers into your thigh and pulling it nearer to his hip. Your own hands started to wander, right between his legs. George let out a groan as you pressed your palm against his tight jeans, and you thought of doing it again just to hear his reaction. But you had something better in mind.
You broke your kiss and grabbed both of George's hands. He watched as you dragged him a little deeper into the green, and fell against a wide tree when you pushed his toward it.
When you started to fiddle with his belt buckle and bend your knees, George flushed and gapped at you.
"Here?" He asked with a nervous grin, looking much more innocent and shy than he'd appeared last night. Maybe ever.
"Would you rather trade bakewell recipes, George?" You asked with a snicker, sitting back against your heels and peering up to him. "We really don't have to, though." You spoke again with a serious nod, making sure he knew you really didn't want to do anything he didn't want to. But damn, you really wanted this.
"I'd really like if we did." George swallowed, and your grin stretched back to life. "I was just surprised is all."
"Why? Don't you think I'd like to show you as good a time as you started to show me last night?" You unzipped his trousers and kept your gaze fixed to George.
"I promise to make it up to you." He breathed as you started to pull at his boxers.
"You already are." You assured, just before the time for talk had ceased. Your mouth had better things to do.
When George lost his fingers in your hair, and tugged, you were motivated to deepen your interaction. Then you got to hear the way George whined and hissed and cursed your name under his breath. Even if you could reach your free hand to his lips, you couldn't dream of keeping George quiet. His sounds were the sweetest encouragement you'd ever known.
You stayed on your knees until your efforts paid off. Then you helped George pull his trousers back in shape as you rose to meet him, and were pleasantly surprised when he grabbed your face and kissed you. But when his hand started to trail below your waste you broke your kiss and shook your head.
"We don't have time." You sighed, brushing back some of George's unkempt blonde waves.
"But-" His perfect pale brows furrowed and his thumb brushed your cheek.
"It's okay. We'd better get going." You nodded. George nodded too, but then stole another quick kiss. It made you wonder what this was about. It made you wonder what George thought of you, and what he thought of you with him. You didn't let yourself wonder long. The sky was starting to darken with clouds. So you brushed the dirt from your knees and let George lead the way back to the cabin, biting back your broad grin every time he turned to make sure you were close behind.
///
The next morning was spent lazing about the breakfast table as a drizzle locked you all in. Your parents were each still in the kitchen, arguing over cinnamon rolls and other breakfast treats.
"I always wanted to come here to watch the leaves change." You piped up, setting a steaming coffee mug to the side, with your gaze stuck out the rain covered window. George sat by your side, with his head in the crook of his elbow on the table.
"We must have come too early in the year." You sighed, searching for a glimpse of orange or yellow in the distance. All you saw was brown and green against a dull grey sky.
"Well," George spoke up, quietly so. You lowered your eyes to find his, and fixated on his small grin. "That just means we'll have to come back."
"Yeah?" You hesitated to ask. What had he meant? Why had he said so? George only rested his hand on your thigh below the table, tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You kept your gaze on him and realized you had fallen hard and fast.
You'd always had it bad for George, but with all this new and very exciting attention he'd been giving you, it was game over. You'd thought of nothing but George each night you fell asleep one room over. Your heart practically leapt out of your rib cage every time you caught his eye across the room, since the beginning of the weekend.
But you didn't understand it. Neither of you talked about what you'd done or mentioned doing anything quite like it again. You just waited up in empty halls and hoped he'd come around the corner in the least suspicious amount of time possible.
But today was hard. Today you couldn't sneak out in the woods, or around the corner. You were trapped in by rain, and if you and George snuck behind closed doors there wouldn't be a question as to why, and that would be utterly embarrassing.
So you sat across from George as your father rallied everyone around an old tattered board game. You caught George's eye as your parents bickered over game rule, and wondered what he was thinking as his pretty blue gaze locked on yours.
When you followed your mother's instructions to go and find a stack of movies in her room, George's mother shuffled off to go make snacks. So your favourite pretty blonde said something about taking a shower, and followed as you trekked up the stairs. But no sooner than you found the stack of movies, and George lingered outside of the bathroom did your father spin into the hall in search of his glasses.
You and George only got to share a look before he shut the bathroom door, and your father recruited you to help in his hunt.
As you all curled up for a movie marathon, Geogre helped you pour everyone a drink. While he reached for a set of glasses, he sneaked past you with one hand grazing your lower back for as long as he could get away with.
And when your parents took residence on the love seat and his mother kicked back in the chair, you and George were left to make the floor comfortable. You dumped all the extra blankets in front of the coffee table and sat a few inches away from George while some romcom played on. It was almost painful, how close he was without being able to reach out. What a strange turn of events.
His mother fell fast asleep by the second film, and your parent's dozed off by the third.
And as the last film played on, you felt George's hand creeping closer to yours. His fingers fit between your own, and his thumb brushed against your knuckles every now and again, as you sat holding hands.
You hadn't really seen that coming. You hadn't known what to expect of this whole thing with George, but an innocent lasting touch wasn't it. All the questions you'd always wondered were louder and scarier as the movie dragged on.
And when it was over, George walked you up the stairs. You kept quiet as not to wake your parents, and watched as he moved in the dark. When he stalled in the doorway of your room, you gazed up to him with a pushed in brow. Then he kissed you. Just a gentle, lingering peck. He left you in your doorway with that, and you stayed up staring at your ceiling wondering why.
///
Your parents left the next morning. They hadn't planned too. But your father got a call from work and since they'd all arrived as a group they decided to leave that way. You had awoken early and found yourself staring at the pages of a book when your mother bustled down the stairs to let you know.
"We'll see you kids at the start of the week!" George's mother waved on her way out of the door. She hoped you'd both enjoy the last day of the weekend in the cozy little place you'd always come back to.
Your parents scrambled to pack their things and followed her out of the door in a dazed rush, rambling about how they wished they didn't have to leave as they headed to the door.
Just like that the cabin was quiet, more so than you'd ever noticed, even when you'd been the only one creeping through the halls. You had no idea what to expect. You didn't want to get your hopes up. And you didn't want to make this already strange situation even weirder. So you took to doing the dishes at the sound of your parents peeling out of the gravel drive. You scrubbed every plate and focused on every soap bubble to stall time as you thought up what to say.
One of you had to say something, right?
When the staircase finally creaked, you'd finished the leftover dishes and were nearly done sorting the last of them away. George stretched into the room, looking around to realize the cabin was missing your surprise guests.
"Dad got called into work. You just missed telling everyone goodbye." You shrugged, meeting George's eye for a moment before you spun to put the last dish away. You listened as he softly floated toward the space you occupied yourself.
"So I finally get you all to myself then?" George seemed to really ask. He looked tired, still. But there was a gentle smile on his face, some kind of hopeful glaze painted over his features. George reached out to you, both of his hands softly holding your face. He peered at you, searching your features as his thumb traced your bottom lip.
"You really wanna spend the rest of this weekend with me?" You wondered, ducking your head as a twinge of fear started to take hold. But Geogre straightened your gaze once more, he made you look at him as he chose his words.
"I'd like to spend much longer than just this weekend with you," He spoke gently like every word was precious. You couldn't possibly think of what to say. You could only smile. You grinned without holding back and watched as George shut his eyes and kissed you.
You kissed him back and decided the pouring rain was cause enough to start a fire. George trailed behind you on your mission to throw a few logs in the fireplace. When you turned from sparking a flame, you watched George settle onto the floor that was still a mess with blankets and pillows from last night's movie marathon. He reached up to you, fingers moving from their latch on your wrist to press into your sides as he pulled you right into his lap.
Just like that his arms were around you and his mouth opened against yours. The fire was nice, but the warmth coming from George was heavenly. You moved your kisses to his neck, relishing the way his pulse beat under your touch. You trailed your lips back across his jaw until you were kissing him again, and dissolving in his strong hold.
You held his face in your hands as your mouths moved together, and only released your grasp to raise your hands over your head as George lifted your sweater up and away. His kisses trailed across your exposed skin, to the swell of your breasts, while his fingers managed to unclasp your bra. With your knees on either side of his hips, you rocked against George, feeling more desperate for his touch than ever.
"Are you sad your friends ditch you?" You asked in a breath with a smile and George was busy pressing his tongue to your skin. You felt him smile, and the warmth of a chuckle escape him.
"Are you glad our parents came and ruined our chances of spending the whole weekend this way?" George shot back, as you pulled his shirt away. You rolled your eyes and pushed George back against a stack of pillows, reaching for his belt. You laughed as he kicked his trousers away and pulled you down for a kiss, like he couldn't fathom parting from you for a second.
You spent a while wrapped up in his tangled limbs- kissing him, trailing your fingers against his burning skin, rocking against each other while the last of your layers kept you from doing what you really wanted.
"You know, I always had a crush on you, too." George propped himself up on both elbows as you'd started to pull his boxers away. You paused your mission for a moment to look at him. His half-lidded gaze and the mess of his hair. The marks starting to darken on near his throat, from you. He was more beautiful each new time you caught a glimpse, it seemed.
"Sentiment not required, but appreciated." You grinned as George sat up, free of the last of his clothes, reaching to free you of your own with his sea blue eyes on yours all the while.
"I did." He rose a brow, and something about his confirming so made your heartache, as it already beat like a drum. You brushed back his tousled waves and searched George's face for approval. He blinked up at you, totally enraptured. You could have stayed in this paused state forever and you swore he might have been content, too. But you couldn't wait any longer. You'd waited long enough.
When you lowered yourself into George's lap, you watched his eyes close and his jaw slack. A sigh escaped his lips, like he was totally relieved. And not just by the pressure you'd both felt now, but by the build-up of this whole weekend. Like something from very deep within him was finally settled. You might have laughed a little at that state of him if you weren't feeling the same. You'd never felt so safe. A strange word for a time like now, but the only word that seemed to fit.
Neither of you moved for a while. At first, you'd focused on settling into the feeling. Then you became totally distracted, brushing back George's hair and peppering his face with kisses. His hands stayed loose around your sides and his nose nudged your own in a way that made your heart sing.
"As much as I love this, I really would like if you moved a little, dove." George cooed in your ear and kneaded his fingers into your hips hoping you'd get the hint.
So you did what he said, and rolled against him. George kept his grip firm as he let out one of those melodious groans of his. You picked up the pace then, not daring to hold back your own hums as George's eyes opened to find yours.
You shared another kiss as you found your rhythm, but couldn't keep it up for long. Your lips parted but lingered close to his when you couldn't hold back a broken cry.
George wrapped an arm around your middle and moved swiftly to lay you down. You watched as he loomed over you and searched your features like he did the first night here. You were in the same place as you had been when you confessed your stupid crush. And you were in the same spot you had been when he kissed you for the first time. And when he closed the distance between you once more, it felt better than ever.
You pressed your heels into his back and tried to tell him how fucking great he was at this, but incoherent mumbles were all you could manage.
"That good, huh?" George strained, barely getting the words out himself. But the little laugh that followed his statement seemed easy and sweet. As if you weren't feeling enough, your heart threatened to burst. Everything felt near bursting, actually.
"It's okay, baby." His saccharine voice rang in your ear as he somehow pushed you deeper into the mess of blankets. "It's just you and me now, and you feel so fucking good. You can let go now, love. I wanna feel you to let go."
He could have kept up talking that way and you'd fall to pieces in no time. But when his hand travelled below your stomach you nearly k.o'ed. Between the things he spoke just to you, the way he paused talking to curse a little, and the rhythm of his hips against yours, it didn't take long until you came undone. He kept you pinned in place until you nearly couldn't see straight until it seemed he couldn't either. When it was all said and done, neither of you moved for a moment. You were less irked by the fact you could have been doing that all weekend, and more moonstruck by the reality that it'd happened at all.
///
It wasn't long before you decided to get cleaned up, but it took awhile to get to the bathroom. George stopped you in the hallway to do everything over again, somehow better than the first time. He stopped you from finding clean clothes to pin you to the bed you'd called your own. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he made his way between your thighs, and made you forget all about doing anything else for the rest of the evening.
And when you finally made it to the bathroom, he followed you into the warm bath. But there, you only relaxed. The water soothed your aching muscles, and the whiskey your dad left behind was passed over the bubbles as you and George sat together till the water grew cold. You talked as you cleaned yourself up, about things you'd always talked about before. You watched as George changed into a pair of joggers you recognized from days gone by. You let him wrap you up in a towel and hold you close in the steam-filled bathroom, and you decided it was paradise.
Your night went on like normal. Like most nights had, in the cabin. You made dinner, and joked about the time your siblings nearly burnt the place down making cookies during a heatwave. And after you ate, you left the dishes for another day, like always. Then you followed George to the den, and watched as he turned the telly on to some slasher marathon. Your autumn dreams were alive and well, as you curled up on the sofa at his side.
You stayed happily tucked against him, one arm and leg across his frame. One of his strong arms nearly pulled you on top of him in an effort to cuddle close as possible. You nuzzled your face into his neck when something especially upsetting flashed across the screen. And eventually, the comfort of his secure hand splayed across your head, and his other arm holding you firmly in place, sent you into the most peaceful sleep you must have ever slipped into.
///
"Wake up, love."
Your eyes were heavy, and your limbs ached. The blankets felt so warm in the morning cold, and George's breath tickled your ear.
"My darling, wake up." He said again, tracing a finger along your jaw as your eyes fluttered open.
"M'up." You sighed, focusing on George's pretty face, his brilliant blue eyes and the easy smile on his full lips. You realized he wasn't curled close, but kneeling at your side like he'd been up for a while now.
"Come and see." His smile widened as he grabbed your hand and tugged you to stand. You pushed in your brows and only sat up so quickly because of George's unusual excitement. He kept your hand in his and dragged you across the room to the fog tinted windows. What time was it? George moved you to the clearest view, and snaked his arms around your middle from behind.
You rubbed your eyes and looked. And past the mist, you saw the trees. Among the usual green and grey, you saw spots of dark red and orange starting to appear. The further you looked the more colours you noticed, and then you realized George had noticed before you.
"Now we know." He mumbled in your ear, as you tore your gaze from the stunning view to look over your shoulder. George really did get prettier with every glance. And now you knew, indeed. You knew how he felt, and you knew you'd get to go home with him as more than neighbours. You knew the perfect time to come back to this cabin, too, when the colours were brightest and the fire's warmth would be most coveted. And you knew George would come back with you. The only thing you weren't sure of was which room you'd stay in together, in all the years to come.
───※ ·❆· ※───
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sombreboy · 4 years
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Tease me⇢kth x jjk
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⇢18+ ⇢pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook ⇢genre: Smut, fluff, mxm ⇢word count: 5.4k ⇢warnings: profanity, tae sends jk pics of his cock smh, they skip class to fuck don’t do that educate urself my lovely peeps, dom!kth, sub!jjk, blowjob, fingering, anal, sex in public place, this is fiction pls use lubey lube
A/N: Serves as a oneshot within the Love Maze series AU, however can also be read on it’s own. Co-written with my lovely @velvetwicebang​ <3
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Either the clock had been stuck on the same time for over a trillion hours, or Taehyung’s brain was having a blast poking at the boy’s established impatience.
It felt as if he’d been sitting through Mrs. Choi’s lesson for way too long now; his ass had certainly left a permanent imprint on the hard-as-shit chair. The discomfort only irked Taehyung even more, and the latter couldn’t be bothered to mask his see-through disinterest, facial expression resistant— Who the fuck needs calculus, anyways? Calculators exist.
The boy’s leg bounced from underneath the desk, wanting nothing more than to yell out ‘Fuck math!’ and storm out of there. But of course, he couldn’t do that. Not if he wanted to prove Jungkook wrong. The younger was smart as hell, and Taehyung knew how seriously he took his studies. Naturally, being in a relationship with someone so academically-driven also meant Tae couldn’t fall behind. And he was trying to prove to Jungkook that he was capable of getting good grades, when he actually tried..
The elder let out a soft sigh, gaze flickering to the front of the class, acting carefully before he pulled out his phone from the front pocket of his pants. 
To: JK Hey
Taehyung waited a minute, no response.
To: JK I’m boreed 
Jungkook always took forever to reply.
To: JK i know you’re seeing these smh, won’t even reply to your boyfriend
Suddenly, Tae got an idea. The elder flicked through his camera roll, lips slowly curling outwards into a cheeky grin before he attached a very personal picture..
To: JK meant to send this to you the other day I was soo fucking hard, can you see?? you like the view?
It was an image of his cock, the tip pink and swollen, veins running alongside the smooth edges. 
If this didn’t get Jungkook’s attention, Taehyung would be surprised.
Jungkook feels the incoming texts in the form of a series of vibrations against his leg, and normally he would ignore it completely... but he knows it's his boyfriend, so it was getting incredibly difficult to ignore. His lecture was boring anyway, the teacher blabbering about a topic he already excelled in, so he didn't feel as bad about sneaking his phone out underneath the desk…
Kook's breath hitched when he swiped the conversation open, only to be greeted by Taehyung's fat cock staring right back at him, so hard and--- it had the younger's thighs pressing together just thinking about the way it felt in his mouth. Heavy, smooth... fuck.
He glanced around, thankful he didn't have anybody sitting close to him for once. Tapping in his reply, his cheeks are hot, his lower lip caught by his bunny like upper teeth.
To: Tae I'm in class babe...
Jungkook sighed when he took another look at the picture, suddenly class was the last thing he cared about.
To: Tae ... I really love the view... I can't focus now
At first glance, Taehyung was a bit surprised Jungkook actually rolled along with it, but oh was he pleased.. He hadn’t intended for the conversation to turn sexual... not from the beginning, at least. The elder played his cards right, an unexpected dick-pic granted him his boyfriend’s undivided attention. Taehyung loved being the only one running through Jungkook’s mind..
To: JK oh yeah? thinking hard about my cock now? ooo naughtyyy 
He also fuckin’ loved to tease the hell out of Koo. 
To: JK i get really hard just thinking about you you and your cute ass
The elder comfortably leaned back in his chair, typing with one hand whilst the other lingered close to his crotch, itching to slip it past the band of his trousers..
To: JK that ass is tight as fuck too didn’t even need to jerk off to porn, i got off to the picture of you on my phone came so much, fuuck
Jungkook had to bite down on his lip to prevent himself from embarrassing himself, the natural urge to whine because of what Tae tells him through text was astonishing. The power this man had over the younger... one sentence and Kook is already uncomfortably adjusting his length that is resting against his thigh.
To: Tae Tae, seriously! you can't say things like this... I almost moaned out loud I can't focus!!!!
Jungkook stared at the picture for the umpteenth time, bit swollen lips parting lightly to exhale a longing sigh. His gaze flickered between the lecture and his phone again as he kept typing.
To: Tae fuck... and I'm getting hard. Want you in my mouth.
Kook blushed a bit as he sent the last two messages. However, two could play a game of tease during class... Tae might just be better at it. But that doesnt mean Kook won't at least try.. maybe he has a higher effect than he thinks.
Either way, Taehyung was a master of seduction, whether it be a quick fuck, or a sensual evening in bed--- it's undeniable that his sex appeal is off the roof. Hence why Jungkook is sitting in fucking class with his cock pulsating underneath the table. Shit.
The elder’s lean fingers curled inwards into a tightly-knotted fist, blunt nails sunk deep into the clammy flesh of his palm. All the while, Taehyung’s beast of a boner prodded at the fabric of his pants, the striking outline a cherry in a basket of strawberries. Anyone with a working eye could see Taehyung was worked up about something..
To: JK such a tease, baby so sudden? bet you were thinking about me fucking the shit out of your pretty mouth for a long time i know you like it real rough
The light film of sweat collected on his hand seeped onto the fabric of Taehyung’s jeans whilst he slowly smoothed his palm over his erection, the corner of his lip twitching in aggravation. He wanted to stuff Jungkook’s stretchable mouth full through the screen, fuck it hard until his dick turned limp.
To: JK naughty boy, you probably touched yourself to the thought of my fat cock before we were even together
He angled the phone down, pressing record before rubbing at his clothed cock, thumb swirling around the bulging head.
“Fuck..” Taehyung grunted softly, flipping the camera around to selfie-mode so Jungkook would have a different perspective. He kept it low, pretending the camera’s lens was Kook’s doe eyes, picturing his boyfriend on his knees— Taehyung staring down at him.
Even from such an angle, Tae managed to look intimidating. His raven fringe running past his hooded eyes, jaw clenching as he held in his moans, cheekbones prominent.. He had it all.
He tapped on the red dot once more, attaching the newly-made video before pressing send.
To: JK this the cock you’re thirsting for?? see how hard it is? it’s even harder when i fuck it real deep in you
Jungkook hovered over the video, swallowing tightly before pressed play. It was a dangerous game that his boyfriend played, and Kook knows he already lost. Taehyung's fat cock, his piercing gaze, even through a fucking phone screen had the younger mans insides clenching around nothing, his mouth salivating. He couldn't even hold back the quiet groan that rumbled in his chest, passing it off as an awkward cough to avoid attention.
To: Tae Yeah.. love when you're rough..
Koo blushes, ignoring the obvious statement of him touching himself to the thought of Tae prior to their relationship...
Although Jungkook knows he's already a puddle for the elder, he knows Tae does have a thing for the digital aspect of things... whether it be porn, nudes, or videos. Even when sending a simple recording of his cock, he made it look great... he was a natural with the lens.
Kook angled his own phone camera to snap a picture, squeezing his thick length through his sweatpants to show the prominent outline. Then he snaps a second one, very quickly of his bit swollen lips, sending both in one go.
To: Tae I want it so bad... See how hard you made me too...  I keep biting my lip or I'll whine out loud... you asshole
Koo smiles through the haze of lust, the endearing cursing between them still something they both just do-- and love.
A small, barely-noticeable smile pulled at the corners of Taehyung’s wet lips.
To: JK shut up... asshole you’re liking this
Then it was back to internally groaning over the pictures Jungkook had sent, lust-crazed pupils dilating at the mere image of those swollen lips wrapped snug around the velvety skin of his cock.
To: JK excuse yourself and meet me in the same spot don’t take forever
It was the last nudge; Taehyung had to act on his urges before he went crazy.
He excused himself from the lesson, lying saying he had to go to the restroom. Taehyung did need to get something out of his system, but it wasn’t what everyone else thought.
Jungkook licked his lips at the commanding invitation, swiftly putting his phone back into his pocket as he excused himself, also lying about his whereabouts. Luckily, he was easily let off without much questioning, being one of the teacher's favorites. Piece. of. cake.
He shoved his books into his backpack before hurrying towards their secret spot, internally competing whether he would possibly make it there before Taehyung this time-- just to rub it off in his face.
As Jungkook made it there, he looked around, not yet seeing the male... He glanced down at his phone, a small smile tugging on his lips. Did he make it first?
Turns out whenever Taehyung was horny, the boy could run a marathon. If there was something worth claiming at the finish line, Tae was there. This time, the prize just so happened to be his lovely boyfriend.. It was no surprise when he’d gotten there first, too impatient to miss a longing beat to his steps. But, being the cheeky bastard Taehyung was best known for, he hid from Jungkook.
When he made out the younger male’s figure, that was when he tip-toed out of hiding, pressing his chest to Kook’s back as his arms circled around his torso.
“Hey—“ Taehyung laughed at Jungkook’s startled jump, angling his neck to press a chaste kiss to the younger’s cheek.
“Relax, it’s me. Slow ass..” The elder joked, swiftly turning Koo around on his feet by a quick twist of the younger’s waist.
"Ah! Tae... shit, I've told you not to scare me like that..." Jungkook's annoyance quickly morphed into a grin, unable to stay mad as he twirled to face his boyfriend. His hands immediately find the elders soft, dark curls, itching to run his fingers through them.
"I wasn't slow, you must be sonic or some shit...." he chuckles, drawing Tae in for a kiss, unable to hold his bit swollen lips away for a second longer.
Taehyung acceptingly immersed himself in the warm, summery feeling of Jungkook’s lips, dipping his toe in the latter-infected waters. 
He breathed in Jungkook; he felt Jungkook’s presence all around. Every curve and dip of the younger’s body was a place Taehyung knew all too well.
He squeezed at Kook’s delicate waist. Taehyung’s lost count of how many times his needy hands would hold onto the flesh. It was the most familiar spot..
“Don’t think I forgot all about the, ‘want you in my mouth’ shit you pulled..” The elder practically muttered, tracing daring kisses along Jungkook’s jawline, down his neck, on his collarbones..
Anywhere that would allow the sudden intrusion.
“That got me so hard. You knew it’d faze me, huh?” Taehyung gently drove Jungkook’s back against the concrete wall, shuffling a leg between the younger’s, sensually rubbing at his boyfriend’s awakened crotch.
“You knew it’d make me wanna push you down to your knees and fuck your throat swollen, didn’t you?”
"Y-yeah-- fuck..." Jungkook immediately feels like he melts into the wall behind him, the cool surface juxtaposing the fire in his body. His cheeks are flushed red, snapping his chin to the side as he blushes, whining quietly when Taes knee massages his length. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he was brought to a full hard on, but then again; Kook being absolutely whipped for Tae is no news.
“Baby likes it rough, tsk. You know which buttons to push, alright..”
Taehyung tilted his head and aimed for the side of Jungkook’s neck, where he sucked greedily on the discolored patch whilst his hands snaked past the loose band of Kook’s sweatpants.
Fondling and jiggling a handful of Jungkook’s bare ass in his bigger hands, Tae purposely pressed their bodies closer together, leaving little room to the imagination.
He groped and squeezed at the plump skin, pulling Jungkook’s lower body away from the wall, grunting against his boyfriend’s neck as he left dark hickeys to linger on for days.
“So fucking gorgeous, my pretty boy..” 
Taehyung pulled away, seemingly pleased with his colorful creations.
“Now, get down on your knees, pretty.”
Jungkook didn't need to be told twice, abruptly dropping down on his knees in front of Taehyung, his strong hands smoothing down his torso to his thighs on the way down. His doe eyes stare back up at the elder with a mix of submission, admiration, and greed, licking his lightly chapped lips.
"You think I'm pretty?" Kook tilts his head like a curious puppy, his coyly cocked eyebrow morphing with his small smile that couldn't be helped. He always felt a bit giddy whenever Tae praised him in various ways.
He keeps his hands on Tae's thighs, slowly inching back to tug at the zipper, greedy to see and feel the weight of his boyfriend's cock on his tongue.
"Fuck my mouth, I'll look even prettier.." He whispers out his words, a bit flustered to utter them.
“Shit, I don’t doubt it for a fucking second..” Taehyung felt strapping as he confidently towered over Jungkook, one hand pressed against the wall whilst the other glided through Kook’s silky hair, caressing the younger’s scalp with gentle fingers.
“Always hungry for my big cock, who would’ve thought the prettiest boys would be so dirty..”
His thumb faintly brushed over Jungkook’s cheekbone, studying the latter’s submissive pose before him. Taehyung cockily widened his stance, feet shoulder-width apart and hips slightly jutted out.
He waited until Jungkook undid his zipper before taking control, tugging on his briefs just enough for his needy cock to pop out, his warm balls laying still against the waistband.
“You wanna suck my dick? Wanna know what your ass gets a taste of every time I fuck you?” The elder harshly bit down on his lower lip, “Stick your tongue out.”
Knowing he wouldn’t have to wait long, a faint smirk took over Taehyung’s features at Jungkook’s eagerness.
“Even your tongue is gorgeous, fuck.” 
With one hand around the base, Tae rubbed the head of his cock along the wet muscle, gripping onto a handful of Jungkook’s hair whilst he stared down at his boyfriend, internally praising him for being so good..
“Hmm..” He gently slapped the thick girth on Kook’s tongue; soft, wet splatter sounds taking over their senses.
Jungkook hummed in delight when he could taste droplets of Tae's precum with every gentle thud against his tongue. He inched even closer, opening his mouth wider as he stuck out his wet, flattened tongue further, as if begging for more already.
Kook is a shy boy, but when it came to Taehyung; he was a selfish, greedy man.
However, he knew not to get too greedy, unless he wanted to annoy his boyfriend. It was usually a one way ticket to limp town. Sometimes he wanted it, sometimes he didn't. 
Today was one of those days where he wanted it rough.
So, the younger didn't wait for instructions, neither did he say a word before he ignored the tug in his hair as he leaned forward, taking Taehyung's cock into his mouth. It was worth it, the smooth skin and tangy mix of salt and sweet coated his tongue wonderfully. His vibrating moan reached his throat, sure that Tae could feel it around his cock.
Kook's mischievous, doe eyes stared back up at him, his plushy lips stretched and reddened as they worked hard to accommodate Taehyung's girth.
“Wait, what are you doi— shit..” Taehyung’s heavy-lidded eyes abruptly enlarged; his initial shock vividly magnified on his features in the form of arched brows. He watched as his boyfriend’s plushy lips enclosed around his hardened length, spouting a thick blanket of warmth throughout Tae’s body, overpowering his cold demeanor. That’s all Taehyung did— stare. 
No one had ever disobeyed him, they waited for him to take control of the situation. Until now..
And if Taehyung wasn’t so fond of the power it granted him; he would’ve been less irritated at Jungkook and his sudden boldness.
The assertive grip on the younger’s hair returned as Taehyung harshly yanked him away from his cock, jaw muscles clenched and gaze intimidating. 
Who did Jungkook think he was? The younger was stripped of his control every time they fucked; Taehyung liked it that way. To say this was a surprise was an understatement..
“What have I told you about doing shit without my permission, Jungkook?”
However, no matter how much Tae tried to force himself to dislike it, he couldn’t. His boyfriend’s eagerness was endearing.
“Impatient boy..”
Digging his fingers deeper into Kook’s mess of a hair, Taehyung forced the younger back in once again. This time, it was on his terms.
He controlled the pace in which Jungkook’s head bobbed, rhythmic hips thrusting slowly to meet each plunge.
“Hmm.. fuck yeah.” The wetness lathering around him from inside Kook’s mouth tipped Taehyung’s head back, grunting softly as his eyes squinted shut, black curls sticking to the light layer of sweat exuding from his creased forehead.
At that moment, he didn’t have a care in the goddamn world. 
Taehyung towered further over Kook, extending out his free hand against the wall in front of him and fixing his grasp on Jungkook’s hair. The elder held his boyfriend’s head in place as he thrusted into him, hips eager and swift as he began fucking his mouth.
“Like that? Shame you can’t answer with a cock in your mouth..”
The sparkle of mischief in Jungkook's eyes never subsided, saying more than enough at the fact that this is exactly what he wished for. To spur on Taehyung's dominance, hearing, seeing and feeling the elder manhandle him and mock him-- fuck, the younger's cock was leaking underneath his pants.
"Mmm....mmhhh.." Jungkook hummed with joy, gaze glassy with tears from the burning stretch in his throat. It was bittersweet, but he was ever the masochist for Tae's big dick. He stared up at the various expressions of pleasure and coy mockery playing on Taehyung's face, only able to look up for so long before tears began to trickle down his cheeks, mixing in with the drool seeping out his mouth with every rough thrust, Tae's cock taking up the space in his throat.
Jungkook relaxed in the elder's hold, using his flattened tongue in his mouth to allow the slick length to glide effortlessly. He breathed heavily through his nose, however only able to do so every few drags when the head of Tae's swollen cock wasn't blocking the airway as it was lodged back in his throat with every snap of his hips.
Kook's grasp tightened on Taehyung's pants by his thighs, seeking some kind of leverage, muffled whines and hums stuck in his chest to be killed by the loud sound of wet squelches.
The piteous, gagged response of a hum fed into Taehyung’s inner sadist as he was physically driven to ram deeper into Jungkook’s mouth. He wasn’t worried— well, too worried. Of course Tae was precautious; he didn’t want to hurt his boyfriend. But he knew Jungkook could handle his hefty cock. After all, they’ve had plenty of practice during their time together..
They rarely spent a day without any action; Kook’s body was a magnet for Taehyung’s longing hands to obsess over.
“Sweet boy, takin’ all of my cock like a champ..” Tae hissed, entranced by the way he’d continuously bulge against Jungkook’s hickey-stained throat, feeling the sensitive tip roughly prod at the inflamed flesh. 
“Hngh.. so warm, baby. Almost as warm as your tight ass.” His panting grew thicker, losing the momentum he once started with, “Look at you, so fuckable. Hmph.. just wanna stretch the shit out of you, leave you open wide and shaking.” Taehyung yanked harder on Jungkook’s hair, knuckles lacking their natural color.
“I’d cum so much inside, fuck, you’d be so full.” 
With one last powerful, forced slam, Tae stopped the movement of his hips before he would break loose. All that talk made him realize how much he missed being inside of his boyfriend, even if he’d just fucked him a couple days ago..
“Pretty..” The pad of this thumb brushed under Jungkook’s eyes, wiping away the fresh tears that’d resurfaced. Taehyung slowly pulled his cock out, gaze softened as he stared down at Jungkook’s smaller position.
“Stand up and kiss me, baby. Wanna taste myself on your lips.”
Pebbles roll on the ground from the quick momentum of just how eagerly Jungkook got back up on his feet, arms clinging around Taehyung's neck to bring him in for a needy kiss. The younger's plush lips moved naturally against his boyfriend's, his familiar mouth bringing nothing but comfort and an immense need to taste more, and more.
"Ah..." Kook was gentle however, allowing Taehyung to be in control of the intensity, but the needy whines coming from the younger showed just how badly he wanted every single little thing the elder would offer.
"Taee...." Jungkook timidly moans against his lips, his erection pressing up against him like a needy boy. "You taste so good.. Can you taste it?"
“I do, baby, tastes good..” Taehyung leaned in for more, pushing his tongue past the small, hitched opening in between Jungkook’s puffy lips to ease the areas in which his cock took proper advantage of. The kiss was sloppy, yet precise as Tae carefully moved his lips against Kook’s smaller ones, pleased vibrations emitting from his chest.
Not bearing the emptiness in his palms, his hands resumed groping Jungkook’s ass.
“I’m gonna fuck you, Koo. Gonna make it quick, alright?” Tae pressed a soft kiss to Jungkook’s nose before tugging at the younger’s sweatpants and briefs in one go, too impatient to go about it any other way. 
“So aroused ‘n pretty..” Taehyung’s breath hitched at the sight of Kook’s hard cock, head oozing with droplets of precum. “Just like you.”
He carefully drove them back against the wall, this time pushing Jungkook’s chest against the concrete and tugging gently at the younger’s hip, making his ass stick out. 
His boyfriend didn’t need any prep, they’ve fucked enough times in the course of a week alone. But it didn’t hurt to tease Kook a bit— Taehyung never turned that down.
“Gonna stick my finger in, breathe.” Tae didn’t lie, his middle finger slowly pushed past the bundle of nerves trying to force him out, but he didn’t budge. His forehead was rested against Jungkook’s nape, lips slightly agape as he looked down at what he was doing. The elder’s other hand spread one of Koo’s cheeks, giving him a wider view.
“Shit, you cool? Found that sweet spot you always like..” The pad of Tae’s finger quickly rubbed at the side of Jungkook’s prostate.
“You love it when I tease it, admit it.”
Jungkook muttered breathy curses, placing his elbows against the concrete for leverage. His soft cheek pressed to the wall, flushed in the initial embarrassment of being this exposed-- in this place... Tae always managed to make him feel small and pretty-- and the praise only built on to his reddened cheeks... and throbbing cock.
"Ah..." His low curses quickly morphed into higher pitched moans the second his boyfriend's long, slender finger touched the one sweet spot that only he could reach. "Fuck, yeah.... I love it-- please, more."
Taehyung always knew how to please him, just with one finger he had reduced Kook to nothing but a slut for him. Every single time they fucked, the one word Jungkook would chant like a prayer was just that. More.
"D-don't tease me too much... I'll go crazy, please, stretch me more." Jungkook's pathetic voice was shaky, rutting his ass back against Taehyung's finger, his thigh muscles tensing and relaxing every single time his sensitive flesh was prodded.
Taehyung reached in deeper, the stretchable skin of Jungkook’s wet rim now surpassing his knuckle, clenching tight around the elder’s long digit as he massaged Koo’s warm insides. The elder’s cock throbbed against Jungkook’s soft cheek, jealous it wasn’t receiving any special attention— for now. Tae wasn’t planning on leaving it forgotten for long..
“I’ll stretch you out good, just be patient..” Tae left soft kisses along Jungkook’s shoulders and flexed shoulder blades, twisting his head slightly to continue against the crook of the younger’s neck, the silent sounds of his sweet kisses only audible to the both of them. 
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, you know that?” The warmth of Taehyung’s breath clung on to Jungkook’s ear whilst he praised, lingering close until Tae’s face was no longer near; no longer trapping in the heat of his soft words.
“I’m gonna put it in, I know you’re dying to feel a hard cock in you. My hard cock..” Taehyung swiftly dragged out his finger, taking a hold of his dick and lining it up against Jungkook’s entrance, rubbing the tip against his puckered rim before gently advancing his hips forward, harshly biting on his lips as he did so.
“Hngh.. warm. Tight as fuckin’ always, fuck.”
Jungkook's drawn out moan sounded more like a whiny cry, muffled by his hand as to not want to draw any attention-- but it was hard. However, something about possibly being caught had the younger's entire being tingling with excitement. Maybe he was a little bit of an exhibitionist after all...
"Mmph... Tae, god... big.." Kook struggled to put together any sort of coherent sentence, muffling out words into his hand in between breathy cries. His fleshy insides constricted around his boyfriend's thick girth harder the deeper it drilled into him, taking shallow breaths to relax. His thighs shake with anticipation, he couldn't bear to be patient...
Jungkook arched his back further, hungry for more of Taehyung to enter him, glancing over his shoulder to see his expressions. If there was one thing Jungkook loved just as much as hearing how good he felt, it was seeing it as well.
The elder granted Jungkook just that— thick eyebrows knit together as he fully bottomed out, cock snug and protected in between Kook’s gripping insides, the unpredicted squeezes prompting the latter to grit his teeth until his jaw turned sore.
Taehyung engaged in promising eye contact, his bedroom eyes gazing deep into Jungkook’s wavering ones. Tae’s back remained slightly hunched as his blue-veined hands held onto the other’s hips, fingers digging into the sweaty crease connecting the younger’s hip bone and his leg. 
“Damn, been waiting to fuck this ass for a hot minute..” He added movement to his stance, keeping it slow and collected at the beginning for the sake of their enjoyment.
“My ass. I own this shit now, fuck..” The hitting of his pelvis against Jungkook became more noticeable, the smacking of their skin every time they met almost as distinct as Koo’s soft whines.
“Only mine to fuck raw and stretch.” Taehyung’s thrusting grew more aggressive, forceful snaps turning quicker and harder..
“I’m the only guy that gets to bust in this little ass, fuckin’ better stay that way..” 
The mere thought of another dude fucking Jungkook led Taehyung to grunt in displease, panting softly as he no longer worried about holding back, entering Kook’s ass again and again until he could no longer keep count.
Jungkook's doe eyes rolled back in pleasure, fluttering shut before he dipped his head low, his long curls falling forward as he faced down. Every snap of Taehyung's hips drew a louder moan out of him, every inhale a hitched breath, every exhale a whiny moan.
"Only y-yours, Tae--fuck, want you, just you-- gah..." It was hard to speak when his body was jolting forward roughly with every thrust, his strong arms flexing to keep his head from thudding into the concrete wall from the brute force his boyfriend fucked him with.
"Don't want anybody else to fuck me, your cock-- ah, your cock is the fuckin' best... Want you foreve-eer, shit..." His moans were bordering on sobs at this point, the mixture of pleasure, slight pain, and his love for the elder made the entire experience euphoric; and Jungkook was addicted to it. They've done this countless times, and instead of growing bored of it, the younger wanted more, more, more.
"Wanna cum, babe, please-- can I touch myself?" Kook's eyes open, staring down at his bobbing, swollen cock, the reddened tip drooling with precum, aching for any touch. "Tell me I can, please."
“We’ll do it together,” letting go of one of Jungkook’s slightly-bruised hips, Taehyung reached for the younger’s hand that rested on the dirtied wall, leading it downwards to where Kook’s firm, pretty cock sprung with the sustained pace of his thrusts. Taehyung forced Jungkook’s fingers to close in tight around his own shaft, the elder’s bigger hand applying extra pressure as he jerked them in sync up and down, up and down..
The leaking precum sitting atop Kook’s tip helped alleviate the glide, movements swift and aggressive. Taehyung was the one in charge, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum..” He wrapped his arm around Jungkook’s delicate waist, pulling him in until his gasping chest molded against the small dip of Koo’s slick back.
“Cum with me, baby.” Taehyung’s jerk of his sore hand never faltered, and neither did each shove into Jungkook’s insides. He was much too excited to get them both over the edge, the upcoming release a certain high he could never get tired of.
Jungkook's loud, shameless sounds were a mixture of sobs and moans from the overwhelming sensations, his slick cock aggressively working towards his release along with his boyfriend's cock forcibly prodding at his sensitive prostate over and over. Kook's was fuckin' done for, he couldn't even attempt to hold back his orgasm if he tried.
"S-shit, fuck, fuuck--!" Nothing but curses rolled off his swollen tongue, words a foreign concept pushed to the back of his mind when all he could think about was Taehyung's fat cock entering him again, and again until every musce in his body tensed up, his cock stiffening in the grasp of both men before it began to pulsate in a rhytmical pattern, spurts of cum gushing out against the concrete wall.
"God-- cumming, ah, o-ouch..." Kook's high pitched whines in pleasure distorted into oversensitivity quickly, pressing his forehead against the dirty wall, gnashing his teeth together. "D-don't stop, please, cum in me-- T-taehyung.." His breathy voice pleaded, his thighs shaking to keep him up. He was grateful for the tight hold of his boyfriend around his waist, or he was sure he'd fall to his knees without a doubt.
“Oh fuuck, that’s my boy.. you’re cumming— hmph!, so much, cute.” Taehyung’s hips mindlessly picked up their thrusting until they stuttered, sleek body coming to a complete stop before Tae threw his head forward in a rasped shout, swelled cock twitching as it released the elder’s heavy load deep into his boyfriend’s clutching insides.
“A-ah.. ah, oh..” The hold around Jungkook’s waist had tightened, holding him closer as Taehyung’s way to steady himself after such a powerful climax. The elder’s body quivered slightly, feeling himself slowly soften while his cum dripped from out of Jungkook, running down the latter’s wobbly legs and onto the ground.
“Wow..”
He made sure Kook was steady enough before pulling out, withdrawing from the younger and immediately resting his back against the wall. Taehyung wiped at his face with the lower fabric of his shirt, the material sticking closely to his heaving chest.
“That was great, I didn’t think you’d let me fuck you in a public place.” Tae turned to look at Jungkook after tucking himself back in, smiling tiredly. 
“You simp... I know you wouldn’t have done that for anyone else.” Now Taehyung was teasing, giggling cheekily as he called Koo out for his unforeseen actions.
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© sombreboy 2020. Do not edit, repost or translate.
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timextoxhajima · 3 years
Note
haknyeon x gender neutral reader — soulmates that keep meeting in different centuries/eras
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⭗ once upon a dream
⭗ tbz haknyeon
⭗ soulmate! haknyeon x gn! reader, angst [SFW]
⭗ cursing, maybe diabetes
⭗ 1.8k
⭗ a/n: ngl you got me good with this one. took me awhile to crack it out and think about something worth writing even though I already had an idea - I wasn't sure how to piece it tgt into a one shot but here it is!
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"oh, it's the duke of the east!"
"the duke of the east!"
keeping your eyes on the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, it's the gasps and the exclaims that pull you out of your trance. shoving the coin back into your pocket, the trumpets start to blow and music erupts all over the hall, the crowd of people starting to part like Moses parting the red sea.
"May I present... duke lee hyunjae!"
Next, it was the small, minuscule squeals that paint a slightly disgusted wince over your lips. But you smirk it off as your hands come together, with the duke at the top of the stairs bowing.
the ball begins with the duke initiating a dance, with one lucky duchess from the other side of the country. but you are unbothered - you were only invited as a royal escort, meant to keep tabs on the pair of twins- a young prince and a princess - here.
soon, the twins are taken into the hands of some older royalties present at the ball, giving you a breather where you slipped out through the balcony. the gentle wind gushes through your hair as you close the balcony doors behind you, glancing through the tiny gap of the curtains to make sure your responsibilities were still in the dance hall.
the moat around the castle glistens under the night sky, the cool air resting in your nostrils and bringing calm to your nerves.
and yet even that is short-lived when the door behind you clicks open and someone steps out of the dance hall.
"your majesty," immediately bowing, your eyes fall to the floor.
"oh, no! no no!" ju haknyeon hurriedly bows too, rushing towards you and resting his palms on your shoulders to pull you back up. "it's okay! i saw someone going out so I got curious."
"oh, well, I should escort you back in then-"
"no, please. i just... wanted some peace and quiet."
with a gentle nod, you let him past you and lay his hands on the rock platform of the balcony, far extending into space and almost giving you the feeling of falling over and into the moat below.
"beautiful, isn't it? the moon?"
"it is a full moon tonight, your majesty," you join him at the edge of the balcony, hands placed behind your back by instinct.
"it's just... it's so far and yet so bright," he pauses. "well, I know it's the sun, but... it definitely has its own honor."
silence engulfs the space between and around you, and your eyes gradually drift from scanning the curves of the architectural stone to the royalty standing before you.
but the silence is again, interrupted, when the young twins burst out through the door and approach you, smiles on their faces.
squatting, they squeal as the duke of the party runs after them, and they pull you backwards despite you already squatting.
"oh, your majesty," standing to bow, you lower your head as the young prince and princess cling to your clothes.
"why are you all doing out here?" lee hyunjae turns to haknyeon, who lowers his head just a tad bit. "party's back inside, so come on in."
then the children yank on your hands, pulling you along and back into the dance hall. you hear a clink - it's the coin that you had been fiddling with before the duke had shown up. turning very quickly in a bid to look for the coin, haknyeon gives you one last grin before you're pulled beyond the curtains.
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your eyes bolt open upon the sharp ring that slices through the air.
stupid alarm, you think to yourself. the sweat's attracted your hair to your neck and your oily face and you look down to remember that you hadn't changed out of your clothes from the night before.
"y/n!" your mother's shrill voice replaces the alarm, then your brother blasts the loudest version of stayin' alive by the bee gees you've ever heard.
"oh, for fuck's sake! eric!"
"what?!"
"mom!" you scream, pulling yourself to your feet as you process the afternoon sun flooded all around the room. your groggy eyes scan the floor for any stray pieces of clothing before you randomly pick a grey tank top and switch it out with your flannel. then you begin yanking your pants off your legs, nearly falling over the carpeted floor.
"don't yell at me like that!" she yells back when you yank open door. in her hands was a basket full of laundry, then her eyes fly up and down your body, catapulting you into an instinctive panic.
"why do you look so haphazard?"
"I just woke up," you frown at her, running your hand through your hair as the music continues blasting from eric's room. "who do you think I am? mick jagger?"
"excuse me-"
"oi, eric!" now, your fist is running into his door, your fuse slowly burning out by the second. "do you think you could become any more hard-of-hearing?!"
"fuck off!"
with a sharp bang, you ram your clenched fist into his door once more before your mother loses her head. ripping eric's name label off the door, she's screaming at you with the laundry basket in her hands, trailing after you while you take 2 steps at a time down the stairs in your house.
it's like you don't bother to brush your teeth or worry about your appearance before you get the front door open, ready to throw yourself out onto the middle of the road in a bid to be the rebel you are. hurling the label to the ground, you step in it and start kicking it around on the asphalt.
"what the hell do you think you're doing?!" she shouts from the front door, almost throwing the laundry basket to the floor. "get back here!"
"ask eric to turn down the fucking stereo!"
"get off the damn road before-"
"y/n!"
the third-party voice catches your attention, eyes immediately turning your whole head to look behind you.
"hak?" a frown falls across your face when you realise you were facing directly at the sun. "what are you doing here?"
"um," he lifts a bouquet of flowers and a paper bag. "ran errands for my mom."
your chest heaves, thoughts floating around in your head when you feel like you just saw him the night before - but you were sure he hadn't been out getting wasted like you did.
"hey, um, did we- did we hang out last night?"
"last night?" haknyeon raises a brow, then shakes his head. "nope." the pause lets you observe his quick glance to your mother still standing at your front door.
"weren't you busy last night? homework or something right?"
you're confused at first, but his wide grin afterwards settles it.
"ah!" feeling your own eyes light up, you turn and rest your hands on your hips. "yeah, I was working on- on homework last night!"
"I didn't ask," your mother shakes her head, unable to bring herself to reprimand you in the face of the nice neighbour down the street. "get back here!"
sighing in defeat, your tongue pokes the flesh on the inside of your cheek. you turn to side-eye haknyeon, watching him mouth a tiny 'sorry' to you.
"it's fine. you tried."
haknyeon provides you one more timid wave before you kick eric's label one last time and trudge back to the house.
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you're jolted awake when one of those free-falling sensations slap you awake from your drooling. the music blasting in your earpieces start to register in your head, the lyrics somehow still not making any sense at all with all the numbers in your tutorial workbook.
with a dry throat, you gulp and yank out the earpiece, pushing yourself off the chair and struggling to get to your numbed feet. you find haknyeon snoozing on the sofa of your shared apartment, the television still turned on and blasting the late late show where harry styles was babbling on and on about.
after getting a glass of water, you stand with one hand on your hip, taking your time to dampen your throat while watching harry talk to kendall jenner. but you turn when haknyeon shuffles, and you notice a thick book - something like looks like scrapbook - by his arm where his hand was limp.
something glimmers in one of the transparent pockets, so out of curiosity, you tip-toe over. craning your neck to find an angle where you can scan the item clearer, you take awhile to process the item.
it's a coin.
a squint shrinks your eyes, fingers reaching out for the booklet. you turn on your heels, letting the ceiling light shine on the metal much clearer.
1932.
"it's just... it's so far and yet so bright... well, I know it's the sun, but... it definitely has its own honor."
naturally, your eyes dart to haknyeon when you hear his voice in his head, but you're sure you're not hearing it from memory. by choosing to take a leap of faith and let curiosity get the better of you, you flip it again, this time finding something much stranger and difficult to explain.
it's a door label with a horribly drawn typography on it, and for some strange reason, you recognise the way the letter 'e' was written.
"ran errands for my mom."
with a thud, the scrapbook meets the floor and you stumble backwards, hands covering your mouth.
in your peripheral vision, haknyeon jumps to consciousness, hands by his hips on the cushion of the sofa when he notices your astonishment.
"hak-"
"no, wait-"
"what the hell are those? why- why do I- oh my god!"
"y/n, please, just calm down, alright? i can explain."
your heart is thumping in your head when he stands, slowly inching towards you with his hands out. you're not afraid of him, but about what's going to come out of his mouth.
"do you recognise the coin and the name label?"
"i- they look familiar- and i-"
"okay, good. means it's coming back to you."
"what?" the shakiness in your voice is worrying. "what does that mean?"
as he sucks in a deep breath, you hold yours.
"y/n... I've been alive for more than a hundred years, and ever since i found you in 1902, I've never let you out of my sight. not once."
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liria10 · 3 years
Note
Favorite Benny books?
Ok so. Tumblr crashed as I was typing this on mobile. I am retyping it on desktop cause fuck this site, and I Have Opinions, and my friend I will let you hear them or so help me!
.... This got. Really. Really long. I am adding a read more to spare you guys from that.
Ok so! As a preface, I haven't read many VNAs with Benny in it, and of her solo books, I still have 2 of her Legion books to read.
I'm going to (re)start this with the VNAs!
Love and War: a very classic answer perhaps, but it is a really good introduction for Benny, even if the book has its flaws and can certainly show its age nowadays. Cornell absolutely nails her right off the bat, and from her very first page, Benny is just a character that keeps you interested. Not only does she work great as a counter to both Seven and Ace, but she also brings a breath of life to the whole range the way only a prose character can.
Plus, I think one of the greatest successes of that book lies in how Benny appears as a rounded and flawed person from the beginning. She’s not your ordinary girl dragged to a whirlwind of adventure and an universe of wonders, but an older, adult woman, with a good chunk of life experience and adventures already behind her, and while setting foot inside the TARDIS opens up a new and unexpected chapter in her life, it does also remain just that. A chapter. Benny had a life before the Doctor, and from that moment, while noone could have predicted it then, she would have one after him as well.
The Left-Handed Hummingbird: I just finished that one last week, so it’s obviously both fresh in my mind, and one I'm thinking highly of at the moment. Well I mean, it’s Orman! Or course I love it. She really is great at writing both intricate, large stories, and yet focusing on the personal, on the human side of things. And I find that this book does a great job at putting benny in the role of the grounding presence both for ace and the doctor, as well as exploring how time traveling as they do, and dealing with seven’s schemes can be frustrating for benny. That whole tardis team is a mess, and none of these people really… work well together, but it’s because they’re so dysfunctioning that they’re fascinating, and orman absolutely nails that.
Theater of War: A very different type of book, it is honestly a fun romp, and it has Benny being an actual archeologist, down to dealing with the academia side of things. And it’s the little things, but I love it when Benny books remember that about her tbh? Also, it has some nice theater theming, and well, as an introduction for brax, it certainly works well! It’s one of those VNAs that I think is just fun. A well crafted story with good takes on the characters, that’s always enjoyable to me!
Return of the Living Dad: Orman again?? What a surprise! But frankly, I love how this book is all about Benny and her daddy issues, be it with the Doctor or well, her actual dad. Between that, her budding marriage with Jason, and finding out so many old wounds reopened, I just. Really love how raw Benny can be under Orman’s pen? How underneath it all, she still has that side of the scared orphan that lost both parents to a war she was far, far too young to ever comprehend, and how that just left her rebelling against the world in general, and resenting deep down her parents for that abandon. I mean, it’s neat character stuff, but it can very easily be written as dull & cliche shitte you know? And Orman really… always get down to the heart of it all, and boi does it make for some great reading.
The Dying Days: It’s a very fun book, and well, technically works as the first round for Benny as the lead woman after all! It’s a joy all throughout, triumphant where it needs to be, and managing to both celebrate the Doctor and what he brought to the VNAs, as well as setting up the stage for Benny to go on to her own range. It’s basically one last run of the old team, and well. I do love Benny & Eight, and yes I am blaming Parkin for it. Also, big brained take to have Eight give her Wolsey because I love that cat and Benny deserves a cute kitty in her life. We all do.
Ok!! Now on to the NA, and my personal favorite era!
Dragon’s Wrath: It’s a fun one!! I do really like the story being centered again on archeology first and foremost, and it’s a good romp that has some really good take on Benny. Especially the trial scenes, I love how those one get down to Benny as someone who despite everything, loves history, and cares very very deeply about the artifacts she uncovers. Also, it introduces brax as a mainstay of the dellah era, and does so in a rather nice way. Overall, a very enjoyable book!
Beyond the Sun: Benny & students stranded on a planet with mystery to uncover, that’s already a fun premise, and then throw in all the various queer themes present, especially with Emile, and the whole scene of them all in drag performing on top of a bus, and it’s just a rather good book. Plus, I love how it mirrors the whole VNA Doctor mantra, except with a very Benny twist. Sometimes cruel, sometimes cowardly, but trying her damndest to do good. And well, that’s just Benny isn’t it? I always harp on about the very heart of Benny being her humanity, and if there’s something that book highlights, it’s that.
Deadfall: Jason takes center stage in this one, and well, I do really love Jason. It’s overall a fun book with some nice lore ideas, and I love how it works Cwej in the whole Dellah setting. Also, at least it’s a story with Jason in the lead that doesn’t end in utter tragedy, and that’s always nice!
Tempest: Ok so. That book isn’t great. The story’s cliche, the characters aren’t the best, and the plot itself? Forgettable, it’s another in the list of “sort of base under siege story in the dellah era” which you’d think wouldn’t be super common and yet! So… why am I listing it here? Cause the concept of the planet!! The idea of a world of storms and disaster, run through via a blind train as the only means of transport? The fantastic animal life described in it??? That book left an impression of me, and that’s not something I can say of all of the others.
The Medusa Effect: … Justin Richard writes a good Benny. Like, legit. I love how that one really works with the setting & history of Dellah, and gives further information on the planet’s involvement with the Dalek war. Plus, it also got some really, really nice aesthetics. I am soft for good aesthetics ok? Benny, dancing with a skeleton on the deck of an old spaceship made to look like a cruise liner in an hallucination/dream sequence type of thing? Sign me right up!
Beige Planet Mars: That one is a blast. I remember just, absolutely loving it when I read it tbh. Between the overall description of Mars, the further Lore Implication of the Mars invasion & all that, as well as it basically being one last round of more… Normal dellah books before everything goes to hell? It’s one i’d highly recommend if you want to have a good time.
Tears of the Oracle: Probably my favorite of that whole range? (apart from dead romance, which I am not counting as a benny book) I love just, how much overall… feelings isn’t quite the words i’m looking for, but i can’t think of a better way to put it… there is throughout the book? It was thought to be the end of the NA as it was written and well, that shows. I love how it weaves the whole mystery of “what happened to that legendary archaeologists?” with the whole side of what’s basically some of the only survivors from dellah going on one last round of discovery. The status quo of the range was destroyed quite a few books before that one, but imo, it’s there that they take the time to stop for a bit, and just. Deals with what that means in actuality. And ngl, I love the entire sequence of Benny & Brax walking through the wreckage of what used to be their home, it’s a scene that works really, really well.
And well, it does a great job at setting up the future as well after all! Yes, there’s still 3 books after it, but when you look at where Big Finish picked up… they went for what Tears of the Oracle was setting up. It really makes the transition flows well between those two, unlike my rambling for a full paragraph before going to “here’s the BF books I like”
The Doomsday Manuscript: A very good start for the range! Not only does it set up the whole collection, but it also introduces the Fifth Axis as a major threat, and does so in a wonderfully well paced book that keeps you hooked throughout. I like how it also sets up Jason’s loss as something Benny is still suffering over, as well as how she hasn’t lost hope in finding him again. Plus frankly, it’s also a really good story.
The Glass Prison: You’d think that for a book where Benny spends the majority of it in prison and not very active due to being near the end of her pregnancy, not much would happen, but the way Jacqueline Rayner builds up an atmosphere of unease, mistrust and a genuine disturbing ambiance throughout the book is just, fantastic.
Genius Loci: This book. This book!!! Ben Aaronovitch writes an absolutely powerful story of Benny as a young woman, lost and finding herself faced with far more responsibility than she ever thought possible. The way he writes the whole mystery, while also making Benny as a 20yo not only believable, but quite distinct from Benny as the adult we’ve all come to know and love is just. So good. My main grip with this book is how abruptly it ends, and how we’ll never get the sequel. I want to read Terra Incognita and more of Benny slowly finding herself damn it!
Dead Men Diaries: Just like Doomsday Manuscript, does a great job at establishing the collection as well as the recurring cast. I really enjoy most of the stories in it, and I think BF started out so strong on those books srsly!
A Life in Pieces: I love it so much. It’s pure brax at his most manipulative, and for such petty reasons. I really like how it both deals with the aftermath of the Fifth Axis occupation, as well as the repercussions Brax’s schemes have for the people living on the collection. Also, it’s just 3 very good novellas in a row that build up to something more, and I always like seeing that.
Nobody’s Children: That book has the best Draconian story in the entirety of doctor who and related. Like, yeah just that. It’s also nice to see the fallout of the Mim/Draconian war. It’s one I didn’t expect a lot out of, and frankly, I ended up really loving it.
The Vampire Curse: The middle novella is one I absolutely hated, but the other two are really good, and mixing benny and vampires is just, very fun. Also!! Predating the Predator is in it, and it is a really good take on vampires in a science fiction setting that also has some nice creep factor as well, and manages to be both a good vampire story, and a good sci fi story, which isn’t always an easy balance to find.
Life During Wartime: It’s a surprisingly hard hitting anthology about living under a fascist regime, and the compromises you have to make, the personal sacrifices and small rebellions. Honestly, there’s a lot I love about it, but certainly one of my favorite moment, is when Benny, having to dine with one of the officers, miss jones & jason, sees that the officer is nearly on to her hiding peter away, and that split second moment of “if I have to, I am willing to kill everyone in this room to protect my son” before he just laughs it off, it’s a lot of tiny moments that build up to a really well done ambiance tbh.
Something Changed: While it did the terrible, terrible sin of introducing Doggles to the world, I really love the concept of every chapter after the first being a different split universe, and how they’re all spiraling more & more out of control. It’s got some really good stories in between too, though they can also be rather hit & miss. An aspect I love about it too is how impactful Wolsey’s death ends up being.
Present Danger: That one is fun, I love how it’s basically everyone vs the deindum, a situation slipping more and more out of control, mixed with some neat stuff one the deindum’s whole temporal deal. It’s again a bit hit & miss, but it’s still a blast, and as the last anthology of the collection era, it does send it all off with a bang.
Welp. Far, far too many words later, and here we are!!! I love Benny a lot ngl, and I genuinely think that prose is the medium best suited for her. I have been rather disappointed with the more modern books, I find them far more bland than what I personally expect from Benny but ah well. Can’t always get everything.
And while it’s neither a book, nor even an official story in any mean, the fanfic “Sepelio” that’s an Hannibal au set in the Dellah era is great, and the benny story I have been enjoying the most lately. I would be remiss not to at least mention it!
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Text
2020 Exchange Round up!
It’s here!!! An easy to find complete list of works from our 2020 Winterhawk Wonderland Exchange event. It is listed by title of work and author or artist, and includes rating, summary, and word count (if applicable). Our event excluded any of the AO3 Big Four warnings, but please do check tags and warnings on each work before diving in, just in case you find something there that squicks or triggers you!
Once again, thank you all so much for participating and making this a great event! Love the Winterhawk fandom!
If you do not see your work listed, please contact the Mods and we will update the post - all works were pulled from the AO3 Collection, but it’s possible we overlooked something or made a mistake! Additionally - Tumblr (in true Tumblr fashion) would not let us tag some creators - their names are on the list but the hyperlink doesn’t work. We apologize for the technical difficulty, but have no way of fixing broken Tumblr links. Please know that no offense was intended. 
The 300 Club by @fosterthefuture for @gwhell. Rated T, 10,109 words “Me here?” Bucky asks, a little hysterically. “What do you expect me to do, be the one to haul your frozen body in from the snow bank you inevitably fall into and die in?”Clint chuckles, as though what Bucky’s asked is completely illogical, which it decidedly is not. “Nah, you can suit up if you want to come along to make sure I stay on track, but I’ll make it back just fine. I really just need you to be here to make sure the door stays open, help me get my boots off and into those blankets when I get back.”“Clint,” Bucky asks, eyes now closed. “Please tell me you wouldn’t do this if you were completely alone.”The silence that emanates from the sauna is telling.“Well,” Clint finally says, “I’m trying to not get into the habit of lying to you, Barnes.”
40k misunderstandings by @verdantbogmoth for @flawsinthevoodoo. Not Rated, 3,280 words. “Are they real?” Bucky gasps. “Who keeps bags of real rose petals just lying on hand?”“Tony, for special random events and for us to steal to have fun with,” Clint supplies helpfully. “Where do they go?”“Everywhere,” Bucky decides. “The couch, the table, the fucking tv stand.” Clint pops the bag and they spend several minutes turning Bucky’s living area into a very perfumed, petal draped nightmare. “Oh, my god.” Bucky says gleefully. “It looks like a porno,” Clint claps. “A serial killer porno!” Bucky amends. “This is fantastic. Why aren’t rose petals everywhere, always. Why don’t more people just throw them around for any old event?”
[ART] Christmas fluff by @elynehil for @chekov-in-a-dress. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift :)
[ART] Cooking By The Book by @not-the-blue for @thegrowingwordsmith. Rated G.  Clint attempts a holiday recipe from Bucky's childhood. He... might need a second attempt.
[art] i (heart) hawkeye by @gwhells for @lantaniel. Rated G. Art for lantaniel for the Winterhawk wonderland gift exchange!
[ART] i still feel this way when light catches your face by @quicksillver for @sevdrag. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift! :)
An Affinity for Elf Culture by @bella-dahlia for @trekchik. Rated T. 8,501 words. When Bucky Barnes was told he would be doing press and community outreach as part of his prosthetic program, no one mentioned to him it would involve dressing up like an Elf from the North Pole.The hella cute blonde elf in head to toe purple hadn't been brought up either.Hiding in his hoodie wasn't going to be an option, was it?
All I Want for the Holidays Is You by @merelypassingtime for @flowerparrish. Rated G. 7,205 words. Clint obligingly took the last name in the hat. Unfolding it he read the name, Bucky. Crap. What was he supposed to do with that? When Clint draws Bucky’s name for the Avengers holiday gift exchange, he struggles to find the perfect gift.
as long as it’s with you by @theproblemwithstardust for @theonlyceeceej. Rated T. 2,651 words. Clint didn’t know when the thing between him and Bucky became an actual thing. At some point the banter had evolved from a fun and engaging way to pass the time into a weirdly competitive game of flirting chicken.
A bad day turned good by @gabrielsammysangel for @misterknife. Rated G. 1,115 words.  Clint Barton was having a bad day, one kiss to take it all away. Aka how a full bad day can be wipped away when you have a good boyfriend.
Bandages and Soot by @fanbinbun for @hawkguyandthewinterdude. Rated T. 2,358 words. “Oh, you’re new. Hi! I’m Clint. I come here often.” “I have been warned.” Bucky said with amusement curling his lips. “Got a name, or should I just give in and start calling you ‘hot nurse’?”
Because of Coffee and a Chocolate Doughnut. by @jazzrose343 for @loonyloopylisa. Rated M. 5,257 words. Bucky is an Actor. Clint is stunt actor and coordinator. Shenanigans Happen
Better Than Fine by @vexbatch for @theproblemwithstardust. Rated T. 4,439 words. Clint promised Kate he'd bring a plus one to her engagement party, but now he needs to find one. Maybe Bucky will do him a favor? Maybe Clint's crush on Bucky won't be a problem for said favor?
[ART] The Cat doesn't agree by @misterknife for @Inktastic1711. Rated G.  5 words. Clint was determined to get the best family photo this year. Except now he's pretty sure that fighting alien hoards or doombot armies might actually be easier than wrangling a cat into a sweater.Bucky says that Alpine's sorry.Clint thinks she might kill him in his sleep.
cause it's just what you must do by @sevdrag for yamyamyam. Rated T. 3,399 words. Clint ducks away at Tony's holiday party for a breather. Little does he know this closet is occupied.
Christmas With the Barnes's by @jstabe for @claraxbarton. Rated T. 3,163 words. He knows Clint is nervous. If he’s honest, he is a little too. He and Clint have been dating just shy of two years but with their hectic work schedules, it’s rare for them to have full days off together so Clint isn’t used to large family gatherings.
The Common Room by @trekchik for @nana-evans. Rated E. 1094 words. No one knows they're together. Right?
Communication is key by @averyrogers83writes for @harishe-art. Rated G. 3,434 words. Bucky screws up and pisses Clint off possibly ruining any chance of having more than a working relationship with the archer.
[ART] Cookies For Two by madnerding for @hopelessly-me. Rated G. 29 words.  My prompt was for cookie decorating and I hope I delivered. Enjoy!
Coping Mechanisms by @mariana-oconnor for @feathers-and-cigarettes. Rated E. 4,321 words. After the events of Freefall, Clint Barton is exhausted, bruised and on everyone's Most Wanted list. Luckily, or unluckily, it's Bucky Barnes who ends up finding him.
Cover Me by @downwarddnaspiral for @feedmecookiesnow. Rated M. 8,618 words. Clint and Bucky end up off the grid and in close quarters. Featuring the world’s crappiest safehouse, a semi-retired spy, and an assassin with strong opinions about the cold.
Delicate, hand wash only by @mollynoble for @pherryt. Rated E. 6,074 words.  “Hey, Buck, what do you need?” Clint moved closer, he wanted to reach out but he resisted the urge, that could be a bad idea right now. “What can I do to help?” He pitched his voice low and soothing. There was a pause, then Bucky's eyes focused on him. “Right now all I want is a bath and then sleep.”
Draw Me Like One of Your Frenchmen by @alchemistdoctor for @thwip. Rated M. 1,410 words. This is written for andthwip in the winterhawk wonderland exchange, who requested sexting during inappropriate times, date night ends in trying a new kink, or getting off in the field. I managed the first two!
Fate or Natasha by bear_shark for @kidd-you-not. Rated G. 1,663 words.  How it ended: Bucky watched the rise and fall of Clint’s chest while he slept. Every few minutes, he would snuffle and rub his face against Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s phone pinged, and he carefully checked his texts. Natasha: How did your date with Clint go? Bucky sat up quickly, jostling Clint. “What the hell?” 
The Fight Before Christmas by @theonlyceeceej for @jstabe. Rated E. 4,040 words. Now, don’t let it be said that Bucky couldn’t take a joke. He could. Really. But sometimes it was just too much. Clint was just too much. Clint is the epitome of a schoolboy with a crush; Pulling pigtails, calling names, the lot! Ok, maybe it was more than a crush, judging by the many thoughts about being thrown around by the Winter Soldier. He just needed to get his attention... But will it work?
For This by @endof-theline for @elynehil. Rated G. 5,652 words. Bucky and Clint are moving in together and it's not just the boys we have to worry about, because Lucky and Alpine are moving too!
Getaway Car by @feedmecookiesnow for @genderfluid-and-confuzled. Rated G. 4,405 words. The guy regains his balance and starts running again. He slips one more time, slides a little more, and then suddenly he’s right next to the car, fumbling at the handle of the passenger side door. A blast of cold wind comes as he yanks it open, practically falling into the seat in a swirl of snowflakes. “Go, go!” he yells, and Clint goes. He doesn’t even question it, just slams the car into drive and shoots out into the street, skidding a little on the ice.
Guardian Angel by @chrissihr for @spacetimeconundrum. Rated T. 3,469 words. Clint attracts strays like moths to flame. All he wanted to do was bring home a puppy he found in a box marked ‘free’ in crayon. It was just sitting out in the rain under the awning in front of his neighborhood pizza place.He couldn't just leave it there ... right?
Hit Me With Your Best Shots by @thegrowingwordsmith for @fosterthefuture. Rated G. 2,185 words. As a barista, Bucky has witnessed a lot of crazy customers and their creations. He has made drinks with so much syrup that there was barely room for coffee, and gotten orders with so many modifications that it had to print on multiple stickers. None, however, even came close to the strangeness of Too Much Caffeine guy.
[ART] How do you like them apples? by @lantaniel for @vexbatch. Rated G.  Because Clint is incapable of 1.doing a calm activity, and 2.not climbing a tree.
Howl by @drgrlfriend for @mariana-oconnor. Rated T. 9,729 words. Excerpt: Bucky gets that uncomfortable feeling again, like he missed something. Lost time maybe. It’s been happening less and less, but it still happens. “I don’t know what you mean.” The man runs a broad hand up the back of his neck, mouth pulling to the side as he seems to consider his words. “Skin feels too tight sometimes? Feels like you gotta keep moving, but no place feels right? Got an ache deep in your bones that you just can’t seem to get rid of?” “What —” Bucky swallows, the rest of the sentence jagged in his throat. He knows there are Avengers who are witches, or telepaths, or whatever, but he’d never heard of Hawkeye being one of them. “How are you — are you in my head? —”
[ART] I got you by @vexedbeverage for @gabrielsammysangel. Rated T. 100 words. I decided I wanted to do some art but then my writing brain told me I couldn't stop there. I've never done a drabble before so I thought I'd give it a try!
I Love How Your Soul is A Mix of Chaos and Art by @flawsinthevoodoo for @merelypassingtime. Rated T. 5,745 words. This is basically a 5+1 where Clint "Borrows" a great many hoodies as a coping mechanism and Bucky decides Clint needs to be a part of his life, not just his laundry.
if these wings could fly by @flowerparrish for @hawksonfire. Rated M. 4,018 words. He waits a few moments, pretty sure he’s going to have to start knocking again, when the door swings open. There’s Bucky, shirtless, disheveled, wings spread out behind him like some kind of tragic painting of an angel. Not that Clint knows much about art, but with the dark colors and dim lights he thinks this could totally have been something one of those old dudes dreamed up.
It Must be Winter in my Heart by @harishe-art for @jazzrose343. Rated G. 3,055 words. It's the holiday season and for some reason Clint and Bucky keep getting mistaken as a couple. They hadn't even planned to meet up most of them time. Why does this keep happening to them?
It was Only a Winter's Tale by @harishe-art for @averyrogers83. Rated G. 1,628 words.  Clint and Bucky prepare to celebrate their first winter holiday together when Bucky has a realization during an argument.
it was peace by @loonyloopylisa for @drgrlfriend. Rated G. 1,932 words. “Um, hi, I’m Bucky?” he said, hating himself for the way it came out like a question. “Hi Bucky,” the man answered, a wide smile on his tan face, “I’m Clint. What can I do for you?” Inwardly thankful for this therapist for making him practice he said, “I was wondering if you had any volunteer opportunities?” Clint gave him a considering look, bright blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Bucky was sure he was assessing him and finding him lacking, taking in the missing arm and coming up with a reason Bucky wouldn’t fit in. He was bracing himself for the rejection when Clint said, “sure.”
A Kind of Magic by @sian1359 for bear_shark. Rated G. 7.034 words. Bucky has some help adapting from being Hydra's Winter Soldier to becoming the Avenger's Winter Soldier
Lilac you a lot by @hawkguyandthewinterdude for @harishe-art. Rated T. 6,490 words.  It starts with one purple sock and just escalates from there.
Lost Time by @lissadiane for @vexedbeverage. Rated T. 10,029 words. Clint’s always known the universe doesn’t like him all that much. But all he knows now, as his heart beats out a rhythm and there isn’t a heartbeat to harmonize with it, is that he’s found his soulmate -- and he’s been dead for over 70 years. It’s ironic. It burns. It shouldn’t surprise him. Barney won’t be surprised. Barney’s been saying the universe has it out for them for Clint’s whole life. And this is just further proof. In which soulmates exist but Clint's parents are proof that sometimes, they go terribly wrong.
The Maybe To Your Story by @kangofu-cb for @mollynoble. Rated E. 5,162 words. Bucky walked out of the shared bathroom whistling under his breath, happily ignoring Steve’s groan as he whipped off the towel around his waist to half-assedly swipe at the water droplets on his shoulders. “Oh, you’re still here?” he asked blithely, toweling at his hair. “Might want to shake a leg before you get an eyeful of something you want to see even less than my dick.” “I’m going, I’m going,” Steve grumbled. “Fuck. Can’t believe I’m getting sexiled for the third time this week. For Barton.” Or, instead of talking about their feelings, Clint and Bucky decide to fuck about it.
my hands no longer an afterthought by @shatteredhourglass for @quicksillver. Rated T. 2,922 words. Bucky's moving on with his life. Shaking off the Soldier. There's still that one nagging, blond idiot-shaped regret, though.
Nowhere to go but with you by Lacerta for @sian1359. Rated G. 5,905 words. Clint fights the urge to cross his arms, keeping them hanging loosely by his sides instead, and forces himself to relax his shoulders. It’s just a small precaution in case he needs to react fast but, god, he hopes it doesn’t come to that. He doubts any precaution that doesn’t include a loaded weapon would help him last more than a minute. He watches the man sitting across the kitchen table from him, curled in on himself under Clint’s warmest blanket with his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and tries to wrap his head around the very unusual, very alarming situation he has gotten himself into.
On The Fifth Day of Christmas, The Winter Soldier Stole For Me..... by @ch3ls3ara3 for @alchemistdoctor. Rated T. 8,178 words.  “Are these pears? Why the hell is there a pear tree in my apartment?” he asked Lucky who was now sitting patiently, staring up at the bird with his tongue hanging out and tail wagging. “What is happening?” Clint Barton knew he was a disaster, it never really shocked him anymore when he ended up in strange situations. These twelve days leading up to Christmas, though? Those days he would have never seen coming.
the one where Clint hates christmas horror by @thwip for @bella-dahlia. Rated M. 2,898 words. “We take turns, Clint. This week is Nat’s turn, next week is yours,” Tony quips, sipping from his own mug. “We can watch The Holiday, for the third year in a row, then.” Clint opens his mouth and starts to protest Tony’s eye roll because The Holiday is a cinematic masterpiece and Kate Winslet may give her best performance yet, Tony! Not to mention Cameron Diaz! Singing Mr Brightside! It’s a great film, when the front door opens and Bucky and Steve walk in, laughing about something. Clint's mouth snaps shut and his eyes immediately flicking towards Bucky, admiring the way the navy fabric of his henley clings to the thick biceps that are almost bursting out of it.
Operation Snowbound by RedTeamShark for @heartonfirewrites. Rated G. 4,048 words. The mission is a simple job: tag a convoy as it drives through the pass and then skedaddle back down the mountain. Easy enough that Clint could do it in his sleep. And he doesn’t even have to pull the trigger, that’s what Bucky’s there for. Until an unexpected weather event leaves the two of them stranded on a mountainside in a blizzard, battling the cold, Clint’s taste in coffee, and Bucky’s idea of idle conversation.
Outside the World by @pherryt for @verdantbogmoth. Rated G. 4,767 words. Bucky doesn't really remember who he is, and what little he does remember is impossible. All his therapists have said so. There's no way he can be who he thinks he is - a character from a children's book.And yet, the world around him just doesn't *feel* right - its too dark, too colorless and doesn't match the vibrancy of his dreams. Dreams he tries to capture both on paper and on his walls.Bucky doesn't have any answers he can count on, just the hat he's kept all these years, but that guy that started following him - as vibrant and eye-catching as the pieces of Bucky's dreams -Well, he just might.
The Prince's "Delivery Boy" by allyouneedissleep for @endof-theline. Rated T. 4,917 words. He wouldn’t have any issues at all with the secrecy rules stating that only people in confirmed legal marriages could tell their significant other about their job if he was planning to marry anyone except the Prince who was first in line to take over as King of Brooklyn after his marriage went through. Clint was about to effectively become Queen of Brooklyn and he couldn’t even tell his fiance what he did for a living. As far as Bucky knew, he was a delivery boy. A DELIVERY BOY.
[ART] Snow Way Out! by @inktastic1711 for @fanbinbun. Rated G. 24 words. Prompt: While on a mission, Clint and Bucky end up on an impromptu sledding trip down the snowy hill/mountain to escape the bad guys. Bonus points if the sled isn't actually a sled.
Snowed In by @chekov-in-a-dress for @ch3ls3ara3. Rated T. 4,332 words.  Secret Santa Story for CarafeOfColdBrew! Dad Bucky and his daughter Nat are on their way to Bentonsport where Bucky is supposed to check out a possible site to build a resort when they get overwhelmed by a snowstorm. How lucky that they get pointed to a bed and breakfast owned by a certain handsome dork.
So much to say (I just can't speak) by @hopelessly-me for Allyouneedissleep. Rated T. 3,260 words. Bucky has never considered himself the jealous type. But when Steve and Clint start hanging out more and more, Bucky starts pulling back to protect his own feelings.
Some Luck by @claraxbarton for @not-the-blue. Rated T. 3,558 words. “Cowboys?” he asked. Judith smiled at him. “I love to give my darlings what they want.”
a storm is comin' in by @heartonfirewrites for @chrissihr. Rated T. 9,686 words. Sasquatches don’t exist. Clint is sure of it. So what’s that fuckin' bigass yeti doing outside Tony’s upstate cabin in the middle of a nor’easter, looming ominously and ruining Clint’s plans for a quiet Christmas alone with Lucky?
Time and Time Again by @pherryt for @shatteredhourglass. Rated E. 6,497 words. The past has a way of catching up to people and Clint knows that better than most. Despite that ingrained life lesson, he still doesn't expect it when a part of Steve's past turns out to also be part of Clint’s. He's... not sure where to go from here.
too cold to feel (but i know you're there) by @hawksonfire for @trashcanakin. Rated T. 1,983 words.  Clint’s been cold his whole life. He doesn’t mind, really, has learned to always keep a pair of gloves on him, even in the summer. He gets weird looks for it, but he stopped caring what people thought of him a long time ago. His apartment has always got spare blankets laying around, and his dresser is jam packed with thick pairs of socks.
[ART] A Walk in the Woods by @spacetimeconundrum for @downwarddnaspiral. Rated T.  One finds the strangest things in the woods...
What's a Guy Like You Doing in a Place Like This by @sevdrag for @kangofu-cb​. Rated T. 8,091 words. A 5+1 fic for Winterhawk Wonderland: Five Times It Wasn't A Date, and One Time It Actually Was.
Word Search by yamyamyam for RedTeamShark. Rated T. 3,858 words. Bucky doesn't understand why he should have to see a doctor about a measly little bullet wound. Steve doesn't understand why that would be optional, Jesus Christ, Buck, we can have nice things now. Clint doesn't understand why he can't visit Bucky in the super-secure lockdown ward. The NYFD doesn't understand why Clint can't get out of a baby swing without the jaws of life. Natasha doesn't understand why she puts up with any of these idiots.
[ART] You Come Here Often? by @trashcanakin​ for Madnerding. Rated G.  winterHawk in the vents.
You had me at Loathing by @kidd-you-not​ for Lacerta. Rated T. 5,715 words. "What?" he asks absolutely no one, completely baffled. Movement to his left catches his eye and he twists around, still hanging from the balcony railing by his legs, and gapes. There, right there on the adjourning apartment building, is a man. A man clad all in black, with chestnut brown hair falling to his chin and a mask covering the lower part of his face. Holding a sniper rifle in his right hand and giving Clint a mocking little salute with the left. "Motherfucker!" Clint screams. Hawkeye and the Winter Soldier work for competing companies. Unfortunately for everyone involved, they cross paths on more jobs than either of their handlers can endure.
Honorable Mention:
The Opposite of Love by @teeelsie-posts for @loonyloopylisa. Rated E. 10,000 words. You know that social media post where the guy says he’s a felon and he’ll come terrorize your family for Thanksgiving in exchange for a free meal? Yeah, that’s what this is. Except that Clint is Clint, and Bucky is Bucky, and they’re both Avengers, but Clint’s family is a bunch of assholes and Bucky decides to help him out with that. Oh, and it’s Christmas, not Thanksgiving. Mod Note: This fic was begun for last year’s exchange then discarded for another idea, but Teeelsie finished it unexpectedly and asked permission to include it in this year’s collection and we were happy to allow that. Please enjoy!
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laurenairay · 4 years
Text
Take a Chance - D. Hamilton
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Word Count: 12.7k
Summary: Ashley Miller is a Sunday-morning regular at her local coffee shop. Dougie Hamilton is the associate art curator who catches her eye.
Warnings: coffee shop au, some bad language, a lot of cute fluff, anxiety
A/N: This is my @hockeynetwork​ winter gift exchange fic for @huttons​! I had a lot of fun researching & creating this fic gift, and I tried to incorporate all of the preferences you stated and that we discussed. This is very self-indulgent too, definitely the longest thing I’ve written on here, and I’m not going to go into the very niche research rabbit holes I fell down! Bringing this OC to life made me so happy, and I had a blast incorporating the coffee shop au element. I hope you enjoy this! 💚
Also tagging @danglesnipecelly​, @texanstarslove​ and @itsbadgerbadgermushroom​ because they all listened to me stress while writing hah.
*
“Large latte for Ashley!”
Ashley Miller looked up from her laptop, smiling at her favourite barista at the counter. She got up from her table, leaving her laptop and scone briefly as she collected her drink, before heading back to her seat. Sunday mornings were the same every week – arrive at Storm Surge coffee shop when they opened at 7am, park herself at a table in the back corner, and consume a steady flow of coffee as she worked. Sure, her work might vary – teaching Medieval History at The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill meant her lesson topics were all over the spectrum – but she just found that everything from writing notes for her classes that week to marking essays at the end of the semester became easier if she had the thrum of the coffee shop around her.
That, and she knew she’d just spend her entire weekend burrowed in her house if she didn’t get out.
Having moved to Raleigh 6 years ago to undertake her PhD, Ashley had accepted a teaching job at the very same university she’d studied at when she’d completed her studies a year ago, and she hadn’t looked back since. There was just something about Raleigh that she had fallen in love with, only a 30 minute drive away from her workplace, something that had spoken to her very soul, and actually being able to pass on knowledge about the subject that she was so passionate about made her so incredibly happy. Sure, her parents had never understood her love for 11th to 13th century European history (nor anyone else from her small town in South Dakota) but Ashley had never cared about that – New York had given her the opportunity to grow as a person during her undergraduate and postgraduate degrees, but Raleigh had given her the opportunity to thrive.
And she would forever be grateful for that.
Sundays though…Sundays were something she cherished. This independent coffee shop had been a blessing when she’d found it early on in her PhD research, and they had never complained about her taking up a table for essentially the whole day (and she did pay for each of the many coffees she consumed). Baristas and bakers had come and gone over the past 6 years, but there were a couple that had stuck around recently - and a year ago when she officially became ‘Dr Ashley Miller’, her favourite barista Andrei had even given her a piece of chocolate cake on the house to celebrate. Storm Surge coffee shop was a home away from home.
Of course, there was another reason that Sunday coffee shop time was one of her favourite things in her week…
Tall Cute Guy.
He was a regular every Sunday morning, and had been for the past year - three Sundays a month he would order a mocha and an americano to go, but one Sunday a month he would come in an hour earlier and order just an americano, and drink it in the shop instead while reading an old paperback book. Every single time, like clockwork.
Okay, yes, that sounded a little stalkerish. But he was so cute. Ashley pretty much always had her earphones in playing music so she had never caught his name, but his blonde curls, pretty blue eyes and warm smile had caught her eye straight away. And he was so tall, she couldn’t have missed him if she’d tried. She’d never spoken to him, never even said hi in passing, but occasionally she would link eyes with him and he would smile at her. And that smile was enough to send her heart fluttering. Ridiculous really, but it brought her a little joy.
What was the harm in smiling back at a cute guy every now and again, right?
*
Dougie Hamilton walked into the North Carolina Museum of Art with a smile on his face. To be honest, it could’ve been for a multitude of reasons. His career was finally heading upwards, having moved museums to become Associate Curator of European Art a couple of years ago, and he loved his work. He had recently renovated his kitchen, which was now looking pretty sleek and awesome, if he did say so himself. His colleagues had genuinely become some of his closest friends, and he had a standing monthly poker night with several of them. But his smile today wasn’t because of any of that.
No, his smile today was because it was Sunday morning, and he’d just picked up his regular coffee order for him and his boss.
Speaking of…
“So, did you finally talk to your coffee shop crush, or did you just awkwardly stare at her like a weirdo again?”
“Oh fuck off,” Dougie grumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up in a fierce blush as his boss Jordie’s words.
It was far too early for this – he’d only just walked into their shared office for fuck’s sake! Jordie just hooted laughter at his embarrassment as he took his mocha from Dougie, making Dougie groan. “One day you’re going to have to talk to her, man. It’s just getting sad now,” Jordie teased.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t we have a museum to open?” Dougie scowled.
Jordie just beamed even more, wiggling his eyebrows as he left their office. Dougie groaned again, running his hands through is unruly hair before he sighed. Coffee shop crush. Hah. Jordie wasn’t wrong though. Not really. His crush…Mystery Laptop Woman…was one of the reasons he always volunteered to pick the two of them up coffee before the museum opened up on a Sunday morning. Jordie had come along with him only once to pick up their coffee, about 6 months ago, and ever since then he hadn’t let Dougie’s shy smile at her go. Of course, Dougie barely knew anything about her – only that she was always in early on a Sunday, always completely consumed by her work, and she had such a super cute concentration face, whatever it is that she worked on. He could never quite tell – sometimes she had a book or two with her, sometimes it was a stack of papers – but he knew for sure that she appeared to mainline coffee like a pro. Probably some kind of teacher?
He’d certainly never had a teacher that beautiful, that was for sure.
Her long dark hair was always down and always a little messy, like she ran her hands through it often (which she did, he’d noticed). Her warm hazel eyes were hidden behind tortoiseshell glasses, and her lips were always coloured in varying shades of dark pink and red. He’d only seen her standing a couple of times, but he’d caught enough of a glimpse of her long legs to have some very inappropriate thoughts. She just looked so kind, so friendly…and so beautiful. Dougie had never been able to catch her name though – she’d always had a full coffee or at least half a coffee left whenever he was in the shop, so he couldn’t even find out sneakily that way. But whoever she was, whatever she did, when he occasionally got lucky enough for her to look at him, her smile made his entire body light up like a fireworks show. It was a bit pathetic really, how much just a smile from her made his entire day, but he was a year into it now and he wasn’t going to stop that for anything. He had a great career, some great friends, and a pretty great life, even if he was tragically single.
What was the harm in smiling at a beautiful woman whenever he got the chance, right?
*
“Alright, we’ve nearly run out of time now, but just one final thing I want you to think about for Monday’s love in the middle ages class,”
On cue, her students groaned, making Ashley grin.
“Hey, I’m giving you a head’s up here – I could just let you walk into our general lecture blind?” she shrugged, teasing.
That got her a few laughs at least. She’d take that.
“Okay, so we know through our focus on the Medieval Expansion of Europe that one of the biggest tales about Eleanor of Aquitaine in the latter half of the 1100s was of her role in the courts of love. What I want you all to look into is whether these courts of love have the possibility of being a real thing, or whether they feed into the chivalric notions of her contemporaries and were fabricated from the courtly love dynamics of knights and maidens. Just to give us some talking points, okay?”
Her students murmured their agreement, with most of them writing down a reminder. That would have to be good enough for her. At least this way, hopefully someone would discuss the talking points with her in class – she’d found out the hard way last year that there was nothing worse for a university professor than completely uninterested students. She needed something to feed off.
“Alright then, class dismissed. Have a great weekend everyone!”
Ashley moved to her laptop, switching off the projected powerpoint presentation as her students filed out of the classroom, but jumped in shock slightly as she noticed the head of her department sitting in the back corner. How long had he been there?! What was he doing there in the first place? She just hoped her smile didn’t look as nervous as she felt, as he walked up to the front of the room.
Rod Brind’Amour was a legend in the History department for a good reason. His knowledge of military history pre-1800s was unmatched by anyone, but it was his research on the first and second crusades that had inspired Ashley through much of her PhD. Sure, he wasn’t her direct supervisor, but their work interlinked enough that she’d spent many office hours with him debating the second crusade with fervour. For such a big man, he was such a nerd, and he’d made her feel so welcome as soon as he offered her the teaching position at the end of her PhD, with the promise that she would be able to continue her research to inspire future minds. She had been so moved by his words that she hadn’t hesitated to accept the job. How could she not, when someone of his calibre believed in her?
One year in, she wasn’t regretting it at all
“Very smart, setting up some talking points for Monday’s class. I’m so glad I volunteered you to run this year’s Love in the Middle Ages lectures. You’re much better at them than I was,” Rod mused.
Ashley snorted, rolling her eyes playfully. Oh thank god. It’s true that this seminar was one part of the large mandatory Medieval and Early Modern Studies course…but it suited her perfectly.
“That’s because my research focuses on Medieval Queens and the exchange of power they brought to their marriage countries, whereas yours is the effect of each of the crusades through military history. Bleurgh,” she snickered, “Linking today’s Medieval Expansion of Europe class with the generic Love in the Middle Ages lectures on Mondays is just easy,”
“Speak for yourself,” Rod laughed, “give me military tactics any day,”
Ashley just grinned. Some things never changed. “Was there anything you wanted in particular?” she asked, packing up her laptop into its case.
“Just wanted to check in with you, in general,” Rod shrugged, sitting down on the edge of her desk.
Ashley couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness. “I’m doing okay yeah, thanks. Last year’s first semester was more of a struggle for sure, but I don’t have that transition from PhD student and TA to full teaching this time round. I’ve definitely settled in quicker – and this batch of freshman feel a lot more engaged already,”
“That’s good! It definitely shows that you’re handling things well,” Rod nodded, smiling back at her, “But I meant in your life outside of the university too,”
Ashley frowned. What? “What do you mean?” she asked, confused.
Rod laughed softly at her expression. “I know last year you were trying to find your stride, but this year you’ve already got it, so I’m just checking that you’ve got things balanced outside of work too. It’s far too easy to make teaching your entire life – and I don’t want you to burn out,” Rod explained. “I value you here too much for that,”
Ashley’s heart melted a little at his concern, but she just shook his head. “I may not have much going on for me outside of work, but I do get out. I spend my Sundays in a local coffee shop,” she admitted.
Her mind briefly flashed to Tall Cute Guy, but she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind before she started blushing. So not appropriate for work.
Rod frowned slightly, but nodded. “At least you’re getting out of the house. Just promise me you’ll work on finding time for yourself too?”
“I promise,” Ashley nodded, “I intend to be here for a long time, so I definitely don’t want to burn out,”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it,” Rod grinned, “I’d better get going – see you at the faculty meeting later?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ashley grimaced.
Rod just laughed at her disgruntled face, lifting his hand in a wave as he left the room. As she packed the rest of her belongings, Ashley couldn’t help but to think over Rod’s words. Was she in danger of a burn-out? Surely not, so early on in her career? Maybe she did need more of a balance in her life…but how?
*
Another Sunday, another early morning. Sure, Ashley could give herself a lie in every now and again, but that would mean not being able to relax on her Sunday evening, to not have the chance to unwind and reset before the working week starts up again on Monday morning. Spending all weekend in her little 2 bed house wouldn’t do her any good, even as comforting as she’d made it.
Besides, Storm Surge coffee shop was such a part of her routine now, that it would feel wrong to not go in at her usual time. Seeing Andrei the morning barista, Marty the supervisor and Jaccob the baker (who occasionally popped his head out) always made her happy – and as Rod said only a couple of days ago, she needed to make sure she actually kept a balance in her life.
So, as always, just after 7am, Ashley walked through the coffee shop door. She’d skipped eating any breakfast this morning, intent on getting one of the shop’s amazing scones fresh out of the oven, and as soon as she spotted her favourite blueberry-lemon scones in the display, something in her chest settled. Yes, this was exactly why she came every week. This feeling of home.
“Good morning Ashley! Your usual latte?”
Ashley smiled at Andrei, nodding. “Yes please. And one of the blueberry-lemon scones!”
Andrei smiled even wider, if that was possible, and immediate set about inputting her order into the cash register. It was then that she noticed something new on Andrei’s nametag. A pink sparkly kitten sticky. Huh. That was new.
“Nice sticker,” she teased.
“Very sparkly, no? Marty gave it to me,” Andre nodded.
“Oh, Marty did huh?” Ashley grinned.
Interestingly, Andrei blushed. She knew she hadn’t been imagining things. The poor Russian guy just blushed harder, spluttering incoherently, until Ashley took pity on him. It wasn’t like she could be mean to Andrei – he was just too adorable.
“I think the sticker is really cute, Andrei. It was sweet of Marty to give it to you,” Ashley said with a fond smile.
“Thank you! I will tell Marty you like it,” Andrei beamed.
Bless him.
Andrei handed her a scone on a plate, allowing her to go to her usual table in the back corner, setting up her laptop while she waited for her coffee to be ready. She heard a door out the back open, and Andrei quickly slipped away, making her smile.
“AHHHHHHHHHH MR SVECHNIKOV!”
Marty. Ashley just giggled, shaking her head before putting her earphones in for her background music. Yeah, this coffee shop definitely felt like home.
She quickly got lost in writing her lecture notes, going off on tangents that she knew she’d have to rein in later when she edited. It was a full hour before she even looked away from her screen, only to see the shop busy and bustling, every single table full. What the hell? She looked over to see both Andrei and Marty working the counter, only confirming her suspicions that they really had gotten busy while she was lost in her thoughts. Wow. Full at 8am was a new one for sure. Maybe a convention of some kind?
And it was then that she saw Tall Cute Guy walk in. Today he was wearing a pretty blue sweater, bring out the beautiful blue in his eyes, making her smile on instinct. So cute. But then she noticed him being given just the one coffee…he was planning on drinking in, and there were no tables? No!
It made her heart clench to watch him looking around the coffee shop, becoming more and more disheartened…until he noticed her. Maybe, could she, yes. Ashley bit her bottom lip but tilted her head towards the empty chair at her table, earning the biggest smile. She actually did it. She actually offered him the chair at her table. Shit. Her heart started beating faster as he walked over, and she took her earphones out as he came to a stop next to her seat, looming over her.
“I, uh…do you mind if I sit with you?” he asked softly.
Huh. Such a gentle voice on such a big man. Yeah she could totally handle this.
“Please, go ahead,” Ashley nodding, smiling as she waved her hand to indicate, “it’s so busy in here today,”
Oh no. Was that too forward, acknowledging that they’re both regulars?
“Definitely busier than usual, eh?” he mused, “I’ll try not to disturb your work, I’ll only be here for about an hour,”
Ashley laughed, but shook her head. She was just glad he hadn’t been weirded-out by her acknowledgement. That would’ve been so awkward. Her stomach was filled with enough butterflies as it was. “You won’t disturb me, I promise. Sit as long as you like,”
He smiled widely at her, pulling out the chair opposite and sitting down, Ashley just quickly shuffling her papers out of the way for him. He nodded his thanks at her, pulling a paperback book out of his satchel. Then he cleared his throat, so she looked up at him curiously.
“I’m Dougie, by the way,” he said, almost a little shy.
Dougie. That was a nice name. Oh, wow, she finally knew his name! Ashley couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’m Ashley,”
He smiled back at her. “It’s nice to meet you properly,” he said happily.
Ashley just laughed, nodding as she blushed lightly. To have him acknowledge their smiling-from-a-distance definitely sparked something inside of her. Nice to finally meet him indeed.
They sat in comfortable silence, Ashley typing up her tangent notes so far for the morning, and she couldn’t help the feeling of contentment that sat in her chest. The cute guy she’d been smiling at for a year was sitting at her table with her…and it wasn’t awkward at all. In fact, it was really quite nice. And he’d introduced himself!
No, cool it, keep calm Ashley. No-one got anywhere by acting like a giddy schoolgirl. Play it cool.
That promised hour flew by far too quickly. Every now and again she would glance up and find his eyes on her. Every now and again she would glance up only for him to look up and catching her looking. Every time she would blush. Every time he would send her a wonderful smile. But all too soon her table companion was standing up and putting his book in his bag.
“Um…”
Ashley looked up from her work at him, a smile naturally spreading across her face at his nervous expression. Why was he nervous?
“Yes, Dougie?” she said softly, smiling at a little more at finally getting to say his name.
Dougie. Dougie. Dougie.
“I’ll see you soon?” he said, almost hopefully.
“I’ll be here,” she nodded.
Oh god. Well that was stupid. Of course she’d be here. Why couldn’t she just act smoothly for once in her life?
But then Dougie smiled, such a happy little smile that it made her breath catch in her throat.
“Until next time then,” Dougie murmured, “Bye, Ashley,”
“Bye,” she breathed, watching him walk way.
Well, that could’ve been worse. What a Sunday.
*
Things felt different after that fateful Sunday. Dougie (she knew his name!) hadn’t sat down with her again, or even sat in the shop again yet, but now…now he always made a point of waving at her, waiting until she had waved back to smile. Those waves sent her into even more of a tizzy, a light blush always on her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but cherish them. Maybe it was a bit pathetic, but he was so handsome and he noticed her. It didn’t hurt to pretend it was more than friendly acknowledgement, right? A girl could dream at least.
It was only Wednesday today, but that meant only one thing. Her weekly phone call with her mom. Knowing Susan Miller, Ashley could picture exactly what her mom was doing. Her phone would be propped up on speakerphone while she pottered around the kitchen, finishing off making dinner while also planning what desserts to bake at the weekend. Her mom led a simple life, a retired teacher herself (although she’d taught at the local elementary school rather than ever leaving town), but it was a happy life. And it was these phone calls that were the only thing that made Ashley miss home.
Nothing was the same as a hug from her mom with a slice of homemade apple pie. But those were the sacrifices she made for her love of Medieval History. They never stayed on the for more than half an hour, but it was just enough to fill Ashley’s heart, at least for a little while.
“And I swear, if he doesn’t stop leaving those nasty cigar butts on the front porch, I’m going to whoop some sense into him!”
“You’ve been saying this for over 20 years mom – I don’t think dad is going to change at this point,” Ashley mused, rolling her eyes fondly.
Her dad had been set in his ways for as long as she could remember. Nothing was going to change that, not even a little nagging from the love of his life.
“Yes, well, he could at least clean up after himself,”
Her parents really were ridiculous human beings – but they loved each other, and that was all that mattered. Even if her dad didn’t clean up his cigar butts.
“You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you weren’t complaining about his cigar butts,” Ashley grinned. “Maybe threaten not to make that corned beef hash he likes. That might help,”
The laughter that flowed down the phone made her smile even more. Fuck she missed hearing her mom’s laugh in person.
“Oh I miss you sweetpea. Are you sure you’re okay down there by yourself?”
“Yes mom, you know I love my work and my life down here,” Ashley said, sighing softly.
Here we go again.
“I just worry about you rattling around in that old house by yourself!”
Rude. It wasn’t that old.
“I promise I’m fine!” Ashley insisted.
Her mom stayed silent, making Ashley bite her lip to stop herself getting frustrated. Her mom would come out with it eventually…
“I worry about you being lonely, that’s all. You’re such an introvert, you always have been,”
And there it was.
“How could I be lonely mom? I have great colleagues that I talk with. And I’m around students all day and I interact all the time with them! And the baristas at my coffee shop know me by name and we chat too,” Ashley listed.
“The baristas don’t count, Ash,”
Poor Andrei. He definitely counted. Ashley couldn’t help but giggle at the sigh in her mom’s voice though. “Okay maybe not, but there is a guy that I’ve talked to,”
“Ooh a guy?”
Oh no. Oh what had she done? She had to nip this in the bud now.
“No, mom, not like that, just a friendly face to wave at,” Ashley insisted.
Dougie’s shy smiles filled her mind, but she shook her head. Now was not the time.
“Oh boo, you should work on changing that,”
Hah. If only.
“You’re impossible, mom,” Ashley sighed fondly.
“I love you too darling,”
*
Today he was going to do it. Today Dougie was going to get to Storm Surge coffee shop a little early, get his americano to drink in…and hopefully sit with Ashley again. Ever since that amazing Sunday morning where she offered him a seat at her table (she offered him!), he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. He could kick himself for not being able to do more than wave at her the past three Sundays, but even just the few smiles he seen in passing since have blown him away. Especially with that cute little blush she always had when she waved back at him.
But today he was coming in an hour before he had to get to work, just to have that chance to sit with her and talk with her. Was it a little desperate? Sure. But Dougie never claimed to be anything other than desperate to get to know the beautiful woman he’d only ever seen in passing until now. His schedule didn’t usually allow him the chance – every Sunday the North Carolina Museum of Art opened from 10-5, and he usually got there just after 9 with coffee for him and Jordie, but every fourth Sunday Jordie came in a little later, so Dougie took the time to sit in and read a little before heading into work…and it was the fourth Sunday today. He could only hope that all the nerves and butterflies would be worth it.
Oh fuck, what if she wasn’t even there?
No, she would be. She always was. Enough stalling.
Still…
Dougie walked into Storm Surge with a little ball of nervous anxiety in his chest, praying that Ashley wouldn’t stray from her routine, until he looked over into the back corner…and there she was. He waited until Ashley looked up at him to wave at her, earning a sweet smile and a wave back. Wow, her blush really was so sweet.
“Dougie! You must be drinking in today, yes?”
He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Andrei’s voice, quickly nodding. “Yeah just the usual americano, thanks,”
“You got it,” Andrei nodded, beaming at him.
Dougie quickly paid and moved to the end of the counter to wait for his coffee. The shop was only half-full at this time in the morning, unlike last month, so he didn’t have the excuse of busy tables. Maybe…he could just walk up to her, right? He could take that chance, right? Yeah, he could do this.
“Here you go!” Andrei said cheerfully.
“Thanks,” Dougie murmured.
The barista gave him a strange look at his distracted tone, and Dougie knew that Andrei was watching as he walked over to Ashley’s table…but here goes nothing. He could totally do this. He was an adult. He paid his taxes on time and everything. He could definitely ask a pretty woman if he could sit with her again.
“Hey, Ashley,”
She looked up from her laptop with a bright smile, making his breath catch in his throat.
“Dougie! Hi!” she said happily.
She remembered his name! Wow. No, focus.
“Do you, um…do you mind if I sit with you again?” Dougie asked.
Oh god, why couldn’t he just sound cool for once in his life? Why did he always have to be the least smooth version of himself that he could possibly be?
Ashley took one look around at all the empty tables and blushed even more, before she bit her lip and nodded. “Sure, go for it,”
That was a good sign, right?
Dougie sat down with a nervous smile, putting his coffee gently on the table.
“So, um, how have you been?”
Ashley looked surprised (oh god, was she only being polite before?) before that melted into a pleased look. Okay, he could work with that.
“I’ve been pretty good thanks, yeah. I’m just revising the list of essay topics that I’m giving my students on Monday, so not too much work to do today thankfully,” she said, “How about you?”
“I’ve been alright yeah. Work has been a little nuts with the new exhibition at the museum but it’s all come together really well!” Dougie said, beaming. What? Could a man not be excited about artwork? “what do you teach?”
Ashley smiled shyly, looking a little hesitant again. Dougie couldn’t help but frown a little. Had people made her feel awkward about her work before? That wasn’t okay! “I’m a Medieval History professor at University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. My general focus is on the power of Medieval queens, but I teach everything from the expansion of medieval Europe to love in the middle ages, as well as on the general medieval and early modern history modules. I did my undergraduate and masters degrees at NYU, but I moved down here for the PhD opportunity. It’s now my second full year teaching and I just…I love it so much,”
A PhD?! Holy shit, that’s impressive. Wow. Just…wow. How could she be any more perfect?
“That’s incredible!” was all that Dougie could say.
“You don’t have to pretend, I know having a PhD isn’t exactly the coolest thing in the world, especially in medieval history,” Ashley mused.
Well it was definitely pretty fucking cool to him, no matter what other people had ever said to her. “I’m definitely not pretending, I promise. Medieval history is fascinating,” he insisted.
Ashley pursed her lips like she didn’t believe him, making Dougie laugh.
“I’m serious! I may not have a PhD but my masters thesis was a specialism in Rembrandt’s work. I’m a total art history nerd – 14th-17th century in particular,” Dougie explained.
Come on, let the nerdiness pay off for once…
Her face immediately lightened, her mouth forming into a surprised ‘o’, making him laugh again. At least, he hoped it was a good surprise?
“One of the classes I’ll be teaching next semester is Italian Renaissance and European History to 1650,” she murmured.
Holy shit. What a match up.
“Told you I wasn’t pretending to be interested,” Dougie grinned, “I’d definitely love to learn more about that class when you start it,”
Ashley blushed again, but her nervous smile had shifted into a full beaming smile, and his heart could only just about take it. Then she froze slightly, blinking, as if she’d forgotten something. What?
“Sorry, did you say museum earlier?” Ashley said suddenly, “like, you work at a museum?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m an associate curator at the North Carolina Museum of Art,” Dougie nodded.
He did his best not to puff out his chest in pride. He’d worked damned hard on his career and he was proud of it.
“I just…wow, I wouldn’t have expected it,”
Dougie laughed, raising an eyebrow at her sheepish smile.
“A guy who looks like you, like such an athlete’s build…oh god, sorry, that’s so rude of me,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.
But Dougie just laughed, shaking his head. “Believe me, it’s far from the first time I’ve heard that,”
And never with such appreciation of his body either…
Look, he knew how the world perceived him on first glance. Tall, muscled guy, blonde hair and blue eyes, probably an all-american jock right? How he loved proving them wrong.
“Still doesn’t make it okay,” Ashley winced, “so I’m sorry,”
“Apology accepted,” Dougie mused, “I love my work, so it’s fun surprising people. Especially people with similar interests,”
Ashley bit her lip again but nodded and smiled, tilting her head to show she was listening. Wow, he could definitely get used to her looking at him with this much interest.
“Like I said, I’m an associate curator at the North Carolina Museum of Art. I’m actually Canadian, but I finished my masters degree in Boston and went straight into working at the MFA, but after working on a brief project in Calgary, I realised I wanted to work more in my specialist interests, y’know? So I applied for a role at the Museum of Art here, and became the associate curator of European Art. It’s…it’s everything I could’ve wished for, when I was studying,”
Dougie took a sip of his coffee while Ashley processed that flood of information, hoping he hadn’t come across too strong. People really did tend to zone out when he talked about his work…but hopefully because she also had an interest in European history and art, she wouldn’t be put off?
“I can definitely relate to following and achieving my passions for a niche subject,” Ashley grinned, “and I love that you love it so much. It’s rare, to find someone who gets such genuine joy out of their work. Even though work can sometimes be super stressful,”
“Stressful, but worth it. Especially when a new exhibition comes together so well,” Dougie agreed.
“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Dougie licked his bottom lip, trying not to look too nervous. This exhibition is such a big deal, and it had been such a lot of work. He could get a little excited about it now, right?
“Yeah, I’ve been working solidly for the past few months on the new exhibition – it’s opening next weekend. It’s a collection of Italian Renaissance Art,” Dougie said, a little hesitant.
Hesitant…because maybe that was a bit flashy? Did it sound like he was bragging? He really hoped not – not just because he was so proud of his work but he genuinely did want to excite Ashley…
“Oh no way! Really?” Ashley gasped.
Dougie bit his lips to control his grin. Oh thank fuck. Finally, someone he could actually impress with his love of art history. “Yeah, last quarter the museum acquired over 30 paintings from the 14th century from various collectors and this will be the first time they’ve all been together in the same room,”
“I bet they’ll be so beautiful all together after so long,” Ashley said, her voice a little wistful.
Wistful? He could fix that. Maybe. Yes, this was the perfect opportunity…
“Maybe we could…I know this might feel a little soon, but I’m…
Dougie trailed off with a frustrated groan, making Ashley giggle. For once, just once, let him be smooth! He took a deep breath, before trying again.
“Would you like to come to the exhibition opening with me?” he asked softly.
Ashley’s jaw dropped slightly, but she quickly nodded, making Dougie’s heartbeat kick up a notch. “Really?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’ve got a plus one as the associate curator, and there’s no-one else I could imagine going with. I think you’d love it,” Dougie explained, “and I’d love to show you the artwork,”
Was that too desperate?
“I’d…wow, I’d love to go with you,” Ashley said, her expression shy but pleased.
Shy but pleased. He could work with that.
“Great, it’s a date!”
Oh God. Dougie could only freeze…but then Ashley smiled. Huh, maybe not so cringey?
“A date huh? I’d love that too,” Ashley said shyly.
Oh thank fuck. Ashley just giggled at Dougie’s blush.
“Give me your number and I’ll text you the details?” Dougie suggested, trying to salvage at least a little bit of his dignity.
As Ashley took his phone from him and entered her phone number, Dougie could only sit in shocked silence. He’d done it. He’d actually asked her on a date. On a date where he could impress her with a topic they both loved so much. All he had to do now was not fuck it up.
That wouldn’t be so hard, right?
*
Ashley had been in a little bit of a daze when Dougie had left for work. He’d asked her on a date. On a date! And they’d exchanged numbers, Dougie having sent her a little smiley face so she had his number in return. She was just thankful that there wasn’t much work for her to do that day – there was no way she wouldn’t been able to focus otherwise.
And then throughout the week, they’d started exchanging cute little messages. Just sweet little things, like how was your day? and look how cute this dog is and I had the loudest school tour group come through the museum today and which of these texts is going to give me the worst teacher rating? – it was all silly and sweet and fun, and Ashley couldn’t remember the last time that the potential of a relationship had excited her so much.
There was just something about Dougie that made her heart beat a little faster every time she thought of him. It was bad enough when he would smile at her in passing in Storm Surge…but now, with every little text, she felt herself smiling even more than she could’ve imagined, like a giddy little schoolgirl with a first crush.
Because at the moment, it really was just a crush. They hadn’t gone out on their first date yet – in reality, they’d only sat together twice, with one of those times essentially being the exchange of their names. They’d only had one conversation in person. And the texts were so sweet and lovely…but they were just texts. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself and get her hopes up, you know? God knows that had happened enough times.
She couldn’t help but hope that finally, she had met someone with real potential. Dougie made it easy to hope.
Ashley supposed that their first date would be the real test of whether she’d just built up all the excitement of Tall Cute Guy in that coffee shop fantasy in her head, or whether he was the real deal. Their conversation in person on Sunday had been such a good start, but fuck please make him the real deal.
Was it really that much to ask?
Finally Friday rolled around and she was finished with work for the week. Well, mostly. Ashley had just come out of a bi-monthly faculty meeting and just had to check some emails before she could go home for the weekend (and to shave her legs because she found the cutest dress for her date on Saturday) – but as she got to her office, she noticed that Rod had stopped in the doorway, waving to some of their colleagues as they strolled past. Hmm.
“So…you’re looking incredibly chipper for someone who just got out of a tedious faculty meeting,” Rod teased, leaning against her doorframe.
Ashley just laughed, rolling her eyes fondly as she sat at her desk. “I don’t know why you complain so much – you’re the one who runs them,”
“Not through choice, I promise that,” Rod mused, shaking his head, “But you are looking extra cheerful today. Just feeling a little nosy, I guess,”
Ashley bit her bottom lip, hesitating. Should she tell him about her date? It’s not like Rod was a gossip…and it’s not like she had a whole host of friends to tell…
“I may or may not have a date tomorrow night,” Ashley eventually admitted.
His eyes immediately lit up. Oh God.
“Ooh a date, exciting!” Rod gasped dramatically, fanning himself like a southern belle.
“Oh my god, shut up,” Ashley giggled. That could’ve gone worse – but his excitement definitely lit up the butterflies in her stomach all over again.
Rod just laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m just glad you’re giving someone a chance to sweep you off your feet,” he teased, “Who is he and where is he taking you?”
“He’s a guy I met in that coffee shop I go to on a Sunday, and he’s taking me to the new Italian Renaissance exhibition at the North Carolina Museum of Art,” she explained.
And she couldn’t wait.
“A cultured guy or a try hard?” he smirked.
“A cultured guy,” Ashley giggled, rolling her eyes, “he’s actually the associate curator who worked on setting up the exhibition,”
“Don’t we all love a man who knows his history, even if it is art,” Rod grinned, winking dramatically, earning another giggle, “Let me know how the exhibition is - I know my wife would love to go if it’s any good,”
“I’ll give you a full review on Monday,” Ashley agreed, nodding.
“And a full review of your date,” Rod grinned.
“Okay, out, out. I need to finish these emails before I leave,” Ashley laughed.
“I’m going, I’m going,” Rod mused, “If you need anything, even an escape clause tomorrow night, send me a text, okay?”
Her heart softened a little at his kind gesture, and she found herself nodding. “I don’t think it’ll come to that, but thank you, I appreciate it,”
“Any time,” Rod nodded.
Ashley bit her bottom lip to hide her grin as he shut the door behind him on the way out, and the butterflies in her stomach were still there. Saturday night couldn’t come soon enough.
*
Tonight was the night. Ashley only had a few minutes left before her uber arrived to pick her up to take her to the museum, and she couldn’t resist having a final glance in the mirror by her front door. She’d had a little panic over what the hell the dress code would be for a gallery opening, but after Dougie confirmed it wasn’t black tie, just formal dress, Ashley had consulted with some of her college friends (who were buzzing about the fact that she was actually going on a date), and decided that a midi cocktail dress was the way to go.
And she’d found the perfect one.
The dress she’d picked out in a local boutique was a beautiful forest green colour, complimenting her dark hair and hazel eyes perfectly. It fell to the middle of her shins, as her friends had recommended, and had thick shoulders straps, no sleeves but a neckline with a deep enough v that it should a little cleavage (classy cleavage of course, very sophisticated in her opinion). Her favourite part though was the Marilyn Monroe-esque twirl to the skirt – something she’d tested out several times already – and she just felt glamorous in it. She’d straightened her usually-messy hair and put on a little make-up too, to match the effort she was making with the dress. To be honest, Ashley felt beautiful, and she honestly couldn’t wait to see Dougie’s reaction. It was a hell of a lot different to her usual Sunday Storm Surge outfits, that’s for sure.
Soon enough, her uber was pulling up outside of the Museum of Art, and she thanked the driver as she got out. Thankfully, Dougie was already waiting at the top of the steps for her, and the smile that he sent her way made her breath catch in her throat. Ashley took the time to check him out as she walked up towards him, and she felt those butterflies start up again. He was wearing a gorgeous navy blue suit with a white shirt and grey tie, bringing out the colour of his eyes beautifully, and the stunned expression on his face as he looked at her made her blush a little. That was a good reaction, right?
“Wow. You look…amazing,” Dougie murmured, looking her up and down with awe.
Definitely a good reaction.
“You look really good too,” she grinned.
Dougie grinned back at her, before offering her his arm. “Shall we?”
Ashley fought not to squeal as she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. What a smooth move. “Lead the way,”
Dougie walked her inside, picking up a glass of champagne each after they dropped their jackets off. Then they were off. The two of them wandered around through the exhibition, Dougie guiding her and giving her the most indepth information she could’ve possibly hoped for. She’d never had such a personal tour like this, and he was so shy yet so knowledgeable that she couldn’t help but to drink up every word. This was what she had hoped for out of tonight, that passion coming through Dougie, and she was receiving it tenfold.
“This one is one of my favourites. Batoni’s The Triumph of Venice. There’s just so much going on, and I swear I notice something different every time I look at it,”
Ashley looked at the painting, taking in the many figures, the details, the colours, and couldn’t help but smile. It truly was a masterpiece.
“Oil on canvas? Maybe…early 1700s?” she guessed.
“Fuck that’s hot,” Dougie breathed.
He immediately flushed bright red, making Ashley giggle. Good to know that her vague art history knowledge was paying off. And that she could make him react like that…
“I love all the finessed detail in this one. Especially on the carriage – it’s exquisite,” Ashley murmured, looking back at it.
“Isn’t it?” Dougie grinned.
Ashley squeezed his arm gently, smiling up at him, earning a happy smile back. He was so clearly in his element, and she was loving every second. The way his entire face lit up when he talked about art…there was something just so beautiful in that. Those beautiful blue eyes were even more alive than ever, that spark of passion adding such a gorgeous element, and she really wanted to see more of it. That was a good sign, right? That she was already imagining more.
They moved on to the next painting, and Ashley’s breath caught in her throat. Wow.
“And this…this is the star of the collection. Giotto’s Peruzzi Altarpiece, the only complete altarpiece by the artist outside of Italy,”
Her jaw dropped a little. That was a big deal. “The only one?”
“The only one,” Dougie nodded.
“Holy shit,” Ashley mumbled, eyes wide.
Dougie grinned at her. “My sentiments exactly,”
“All of that gold. So much gold. And the details in their faces. Holy shit,” Ashley murmured.
“One of my favourite frescos, and I get to see it every day,” Dougie sighed happily.
“Well count me as jealous,” Ashley teased, nudging him with her shoulder.
Dougie just smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. He was just so cute.
“Would you, um…would you like a new drink?”
“Sure, another couldn’t hurt,” she nodded.
It’s not like she drank champagne that often after all. And it was a special occasion…
They stayed in the museum for another hour, looking over some of the art again as well as mingling with Dougie’s colleagues (including a mostly silent guy Dougie introduced as ‘Foegs’, who gave Dougie a double thumbs up when he thought she wasn’t looking, and a very enthusiastic big blonde man named Jordie, who she learned was Dougie’s boss – which, wow). Their conversation just flowed, and the doubts that she’d had earlier were easily shoved to the back of her mind.
She’d never thought it would feel so natural spending the evening arm-in-arm with a guy, but Dougie had just blown her away.
All too soon, it was time to leave the museum though, and while Dougie got their jackets, Ashley opened her phone to request an uber. 5 minutes away. Perfect.
“I had a really great time tonight,” Dougie murmured, when they were waiting outside.
His own uber was only a couple of minutes behind hers.
“Me too,” Ashley admitted, smiling up at him, “Thank you for inviting me,”
“There’s no-one else I would’ve wanted to take. I just glad you enjoyed it,” Dougie smiled back.
“I enjoyed spending time with you. The exhibition was just a bonus,” she said softly, looking up at him through her lashes.
Holy shit she just flirted. Blatantly flirted. Too much?
But then Dougie blushed a little, before a small smirk spread across his lips. “Yeah?”
Ashley just bit her lip, nodding. Dougie’s blue eyes flashed a little darker, sending a hot jolt running through her body. Oh wow. Just like that huh. But then her phone buzzed, the uber car pulling up to the curb, breaking her out of her thoughts just before they started to spiral.
Calm down Ashley, it’s only the first date!
She waved at the uber driver to signal that she’d seen him before turning back to Dougie. “See you tomorrow?” Ashley asked hopefully.
“Yeah, I’ll be starting work a little later on the one off, as it was the exhibition opening tonight,” Dougie nodded, “I’ll be there,”
Ashley grinned at him, before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek, laughing softly as his jaw dropped.
“Bye, Dougie,” she said softly, walking over to the car.
“Bye,” she heard him murmur, just as she closed the door.
“Hot date?” the uber driver teased.
“The hottest,” she grinned back.
That earned her a laugh, and she couldn’t help but smile as the driver pulled away from the curb. Ashley glanced out of the window, only to see that Dougie hadn’t moved at all – other than his fingers brushing over where she’d kissed his cheek, a hopeless smile on his face.
What a first date indeed.
*
To: Ashley
From: Rod
So how did the date go?
~
To: Rod
From: Ashley
The exhibition was incredible. You need to take your wife, for real.
~
To: Ashley
From: Rod
I actually meant the guy but sure…
~
To: Rod
From: Ashley
He was a perfect gentleman and…amazing.
You’ll get your full gossip on Monday.
~
To: Ashley
From: Rod
Boo fine.
I’m glad you had a good time though!
See you on Monday
*
 “I had a really great time tonight,”
“Me too,”
“I had a really great time tonight,”
“Me too,”
“I had a really great time tonight,”
“Me too,”
Wasn’t the saying that if things seemed too good to be true, then they probably were not?
Ashley had gone to bed feeling over the moon, elated, bubbling with excitement. But when she’d woken up, it was like a dark cloud had settled over her, a heavy rock of anxiety sitting on her chest. Everything had gone so well last night. So well. Too well? This wasn’t the first time that she’d gotten her hopes up only to have things fall apart around her – and her hopes had skyrocketed last night. All she felt was like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it made her feel sick.
That niggling negativity had swum around her brain over and over again, and she hadn’t been able to shut it off – not when she showered, not when she got dressed, and not when she sat on the sofa debating whether or not to actually turn up at the coffee shop.
Was this really what things had come down to? Tempted to break her solid routine, the exact routine she’d had every week, just because a guy made her nervous? Was he really that important? Was she really that much of a coward?
She sat on the sofa so long that she passed the time she would normally leave. Hell, she passed the time she would normally be sitting down at her usual table. Oh god she couldn’t take this. It was too much. Her legs bounced nervously as she pulled up the message thread she had with him, typing out a message to cancel…
…and then she deleted it.
Fuck that shit. No matter how anxious this whole dating thing made her feel, nothing was worth this. She couldn’t just not show up, that wasn’t right. That wasn’t her. Fuck this. As quickly as she could, Ashley grabbed her laptop and her handbag, driving as fast as she could to Storm Surge.
When she parked her car, she noticed that she had a few texts from Dougie. Oh god.
~
To: Ashley
From: Dougie
Hey, I’m coming a little earlier than usual today!
~
To: Ashley
From: Dougie
Are you running late?
~
To: Ashley
From: Dougie
Are you coming?
~
Oh god. Ashley winced, practically running to the shop, immediately spotting Dougie at her usual table in the back. The sheer relief on his face made her wince again. Fuck. His expression dimmed at little, but she quickly ordered her usual latte from Andrei, who looked an interesting mix of confused and concerned, but she headed over to Dougie without hesitating.
“Hey, um, sorry I’m late,” she murmured, setting her coffee and her laptop down on the table.
Dougie frowned at her briefly, clearly taking in whatever the hell her face was showing.
“Is everything okay?” he asked softly.
Ashley bit her bottom lip, hesitating. Might as well tell him the truth, right?
“I, uh, I was second-guessing everything?”
“Second-guessing?” Dougie asked, frowning harder.
Ashley just sighed. “Yeah, um, it’s dumb. I just…it all seems too good to be true? I woke up feeling like I’d gotten my hopes up and…fuck, I’m sorry. I just feel stupid now,”
Looking up at Dougie’s sad face immediately made her regret telling the truth, but it was too late now. Fuck. Why did she have to ruin everything? The fact that he was staying silent just made everything worse. Should she just go?
“What do you want to do now then?” Dougie eventually asked “or do you not know?”
Ashley swallowed heavily, looking down at her hands briefly. Hah. The million dollar question. “I know that I like you?” she offered.
Dougie huffed a laugh. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to get mad if you don’t want to go on another date,” Dougie said with a sad smile.
Oh god that was worse. He should never sound that disheartened – it wasn’t right. And it was all her fault.
“Would you even want to go on a date with me again when I’m this much of an anxious mess?” Ashley sighed.
After last night, this really wasn’t where she’d seen her day going. Self-sabotage was a bitch. But it was her own damn fault. It always was. But then Dougie reached his hand forward, fingers brushing over hers lightly to get her attention, making her blush as he smiled a bit more genuinely.
“Yeah, I would like to,” he nodded, “I had a really great time yesterday night, and I still want more,”
Oh, so maybe she hadn’t ruined everything then. What? Well shit, she was grabbing this second chance with both hands.
“I had a great time too,” Ashley admitted, blushing a little bit more, “even with this stupid anxiety,”
“Good. That’s…that’s really good,” Dougie laughed, “well, not the anxiety part, but I’m going to prove to you that this isn’t just getting your hopes up,”
“I’d like that,” she murmured.
Dougie smiled at her, a truly genuine happiness, making her breath catch in her throat. Fuck she didn’t deserve this. But there was no way she was going to let herself ruin this, not now.
“Maybe we could just talk for a couple of hours before I have to go into work? Have some coffee, a couple of those delicious blueberry-lemon scones, and just see where things go?” Dougie suggested.
Ashley nodded, the tight ball in her chest immediately loosening. God, he was such a nice guy. “I’d definitely like to get to know you more,” she agreed.
“Scones are on me then,” Dougie grinned.
Hope. A second chance. Bring it on.
*
When Dougie eventually walked into work, his shared office had more people in it that he cared for. Well, okay, that was a little mean. But right now was not the best time for the combination of Jordie and Foegs as well as Sebastian and Teuvo, especially not when all four of them had met Ashley last night. Not when they were all so intense. Not while things were still so tentative.
“So, how did it go?” Jordie asked excitedly, “it looked like the two of you were having fun!”
And here we go.
“Well last night, at the exhibition, went really well, but…”
Jordie and Foegs frowned as he trailed off, Sebastian and Teuvo just looked confused. Dougie sighed and sat down heavily at his desk.
“She was really hesitant this morning. Like, so full of anxiety that she almost didn’t show up for coffee,” he admitted, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly.
“What do you mean?” Jordie asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion.
“She thinks it’s too good to be true?” Dougie winced.
Foegs looked a little stunned, Jordie’s jaw dropping. But then Sebastian jumped to his feet from where he was sitting on Jordie’s desk.
“Well then you’ll just have to sweep her off her feet!” Sebastian said firmly.
Really? Dougie sent him an unimpressed look, but Sebastian’s pout stayed serious as Teuvo giggled.
“As much as I hate to say it, Sepe has a point,” Foegs shrugged, making Sebastian stick out his tongue at him, “the two of you looked like you’d really hit it off when we were all talking, and the fact that Ashley did meet you this morning means a little anxiety shouldn’t stand in the way,”
“Take her on another date. Wine and dine, man. It’s a classic for a reason,” Jordie added, nodding seriously.
Well shit, if Jordie was being serious then maybe it would work.
“Thanks guys,” Dougie murmured, smiling softly.
“Anything to land you the woman of your many dreams,” Jordie beamed.
Dougie just blushed. Sebastian wriggled his eyebrows, Teuvo just punching him on the arm. It was almost a nice moment.
He waited until Foegs, Sebastian and Teuvo had left to start working before he pulled his phone out, biting his bottom lip as he thought of what to say.
~
To: Ashley
From: Dougie
Hey, I’m glad I saw you today.
I hope you’re still doing okay.
How do you feel about getting dinner with me?
~
Dougie jiggled his leg nervously as he logged into his computer, waiting with baited breath for any reply.
And then eventually, his phone buzzed. Ashley. Thank god.
~
To: Dougie
From: Ashley
I’m alright thanks. That scone definitely helped ;)
I would love to get dinner with you.
~
Dougie couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Good. This was good. They exchanged a few more messages, eventually figuring out that because of his next few late nights with the exhibition and her essays she had to mark, neither of them were really free until next Saturday. A whole week away again. Fuck. No, this was going to work. Dougie knew it was worth it – and if she needed him to text a lot over the next few days to remind her that he was all in, that he wasn’t just going to disappoint her like those other guys, then he absolutely would.
Wine and dine next Saturday. He could absolutely do this.
“Hey, what was the name of that place you took your wife out for date night a couple of weeks back?” Dougie asked, looking up at his boss.
Jordie’s face lit up. “Oh man, it was so good…”
*
As Dougie promised himself, they kept texting throughout the week. He told her fun stories from visitors to the exhibition. She told him silly comments her students made that she couldn’t respond to without laughing in class. He told her all about his time in Boston. She told him all about her time in New York. He sent her a picture of the cutest trio of dogs his neighbours adopted. She sent him a picture of a sunset that took her breath away. Things were…good. He was just glad that Ashley seemed as enthusiastic as she was before their first date.
All he could hope was that he was proving to her that he was different. That he was serious about giving their budding relationship a shot. He hadn’t bonded with someone as quickly as this, as deeply as this, ever – so he wanted to see where it went. The unknown with Ashley genuinely excited him, and he wanted her to feel the same excitement.
He could only try to be good enough to deserve her.
By the time Saturday rolled around, Dougie was a nervous wreck. He’d left work exactly on time for once, Jordie giving him a thump on the shoulder and Foegs a thumbs up (he mostly ignored Sebastian and Teuvo’s shimmies), racing home to change into a nice sweater and his favourite pair of smart jeans. Casual but like he cared about making an impression. That was what he was aiming for.
And then Ashley arrived 10 minutes early, just after he’d arrived himself, looking nervous but happy in the prettiest baby blue tea-dress he’d ever seen, with her hair curled and wearing a pretty pink lipstick. Wow.
“You look beautiful,” he blurted.
Oh god. Mr Smooth, again.
Ashley just blushed, smiling up at him. “Thank you. I love your sweater,”
Dougie blushed in return. What a pair they made.
“After you,” he said, opening the restaurant door for her.
As much as her anxiety had worried him, he was so glad he didn’t give up – she was absolutely worth it. They were lead to their table, Dougie being a bit extra and pulling out Ashley’s chair for her, but the giggle he got in return was what he was aiming for. Wine and dine. Sweep her off her feet. That’s all that he wanted to do, and if it was working then he wasn’t going to stop now.
“I was thinking we could split a bottle of wine tonight, if you want?” Dougie offered.
“Yeah that sounds good to me,” Ashley nodded, “Maybe a white wine?”
That was more than okay with him. Red wine made him a little…over the top? He definitely talked too much when he had red wine, he knew that much, and he wanted to save at least a little dignity tonight. Hopefully, at least.
The wine was ordered, and by the time they each had a cold glass of sauvignon blanc, Ashley looked as relaxed as Dougie felt. He could only hope the rest of this night turned out the same way.
“So did I tell you what one of Rod’s students said to him yesterday?”
Dougie grinned, shaking his head. “No you didn’t!”
Ashley grinned back. “Well…”
They talked for hours, sharing stories about their jobs, their interests, their families, not stopping when any of their three courses came, not hesitating even once. Nothing was awkward in the slightest – their conversation just flowed like they’d known each other for years, and Dougie’s heart was just so happy. This was everything he’d wanted for so long, someone he could truly been 100% himself with, and he couldn’t believe that she seemed as into him as he was into her.
How was this possible, after only two dates?
Time flew by so fast, too fast, and they did eventually have to leave their table, even as much as Dougie didn’t want the night to end. He just felt utterly consumed by her, completely and utterly lost in her very being, and he didn’t want this feeling to stop for anything.
It probably didn’t help that they’d split three bottles of wine though.
It wasn’t enough to make either of them sloppy drunk, not with the delicious food they’d eaten, but Ashley was definitely a bit more giggly than usual, and he was definitely smiling like an idiot.
“I wish your uber wasn’t on its way,” Dougie sighed, when they were outside.
“I’m actually not a far walk from here, so I was just going to walk home?”
At this time of night? Absolutely not! Ashley saw the look of indignation of his face and burst into laughter, making him blush (again). What? He wasn’t wrong for being worried about her getting home safely.
“You could always walk me home?” she suggested.
Oh. Oh. Oh yeah okay, he could do that.
“Yeah, definitely,” Dougie nodded quickly.
Dougie’s heart started beating a little faster as she looped her arm through his, and it was all he could do not to smile at her too helplessly. How did she manage to affect him like this? He’d never fallen so head over heels so quickly. And she seemed completely oblivious to how gone he was for her – in the most innocent of ways.
They walked slowly, leaning on each perhaps a little more than they would without the wine, but it just meant that they had more time for talking. Dougie was blissfully happy to let Ashley rant about the indignity of the black myth surrounding Eleanor of Aquitaine, taking in everything that she was trying to teach him. He loved how much she loved her medieval history, just like he loved his art. It was quirky and different and so unique to her. And honestly, he could picture them doing this together for years, discussing their passions and their love for their careers and…
“Okay this is me,” Ashley announced, breaking him out of his thoughts.
Dougie looked up at the old two-storey home with a smile. So this was her home. Pretty.
“That wasn’t so bad a walk,” Dougie grinned.
“I feel bad now though, making you get further away for your own journey,” Ashley frowned.
But Dougie shook his head. “It’s fine really. I’m sure there are plenty of ubers still running around here,”
“Well…”
Ashley trailed off, biting her lip, making Dougie smile. What was on her mind?
“You can stay, if you want?” Ashley said, a shy smile on her face.
Oh fuck. Stay? Ashley saw the shock on his face, before she blushed furiously, quickly shaking her head.
“I have a spare bedroom! I swear I didn’t mean it like that,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.
Dougie couldn’t help but laugh, tugging her hands away gently. Not that he was opposed to…sharing a bed with her, but that wasn’t the vibe of tonight. Tonight was for building them up, getting them to a more comfortable level. And fuck did it feel good tonight.
Waking up to see her first thing in the morning would only be icing on the cake.
“I would love to stay, as long as you don’t mind,” he said softly, brushing his hand against hers.
Ashley inhaled sharply but nodded, wordlessly reaching in her handbag for her keys. They stayed silent as they walked into the house, Dougie barely moving a foot away from her as she showed him the kitchen, the bathroom and then the spare bedroom. He could do a proper tour in the morning, he knew that. He was just a little stunned that he was even still with her, to be honest.
“So here’s some basketball shorts that my cousin left last time he visited. I don’t have a shirt big enough for you though,” she apologised, handing him a soft bundle.
Dougie just shook his head, smiling. “This is more than enough. I usually sleep shirtless anyway,”
Ashley’s lips parted a little in surprise, her eyes glazing over slightly, making Dougie grin as she shook her head as if to clear it. Good to know he had that effect on her.
“There are spare toothbrushes under the sink from when I last when to the dentist’s office, so help yourself to whatever one?” she offered.
Dougie just nodded, squeezing her hand as he walked into the bathroom. He willed himself to retain at least a little bit of chill as he got changed, quickly washing his face and cleaning his teeth with one of the toothbrushes she’d offered. This was all still a little bit surreal, being honest. But he was going to seize this with both hands – this was a chance he was never going to get again if he fucked up.
Ashley couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off him as they swapped places in the bathroom, and Dougie tried not to grin as he flexed his abs a little, making her blush. He could have a little fun, right? Especially since he knew the boundaries he needed to stay behind, he wasn’t dumb.
By the time he’d put his phone on charge and folded his clothes onto a chair for tomorrow, and then headed back out into the corridor, Ashley was back, dressed in a cute little pair of shorts and a giant t-shirt. Oh wow, he could definitely imagine her wearing his t-shirt to bed one day. No, not the time!
“Hey,”
Ashley’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he couldn’t help but smile down at her.
“Hey,” he murmured.
“See you in the morning?” she said hopefully.
Like fuck he was going to leave. “Bright and early,” he nodded.
But when she didn’t go anywhere, her hand moving to rest on his bare arm, Dougie couldn’t stop himself from stepping towards her. Fuck. She inhaled sharply, but didn’t push him away, and that was all he needed.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked lowly.
Ashley’s lips parted in a soft gasp, but she nodded. “Yeah, please,”
Dougie raised a hand to cup her face, giving her one last out, but as she raised up on her tiptoes he didn’t hesitate any further. He leant his head down, and pressed his lips to hers softly, barely able to stop the moan that wanted to tear from his throat. Holy shit. Ashley clutched at his biceps, leaning up into the kiss even more, making Dougie’s head spin as he kissed her softly, slowly, over and over again. This was so not what he expected from tonight, or even hoped for, but fuck did it fill his body with butterflies. Holy shit, kissing her was everything. Eventually, he brushed his tongue against hers gently, before pulling away, knowing there was a stupid smile on his face.
“Wow,” he breathed.
“Wow,” she nodded, laughing softly, “That’s one hell of a goodnight,”
Dougie laughed softly too, pecking her lips in a soft kiss one last time before stepping away. She leaned against the wall, looking a little stunned, making him grin as he walked into her spare bedroom. If he didn’t walk away, he knew he would do something stupid to break them out of this perfect little sweet bubble, and that wasn’t what he wanted. Not tonight.
Tonight had been perfect. 
*
Ashley woke up slowly, a little groggy, feeling like she was forgetting something. Then she heard the bathroom door opening, and everything came flooding back to her. Dougie was here. He’d stayed over after their date last night. They’d kissed. Holy shit. Holy shit. She took a deep breath to calm herself, fingers rising to her lips without a second thought, and it was all she could do to smile.
Dougie had kissed her. And it was everything.
She squealed softly into her pillow, feeling stupidly giddy, before quickly picking out a cute jumper and her comfiest skinny jeans to wear. She could hear him moving in the spare bedroom, so she quickly darted into the bathroom, washing and then brushing her teeth, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face at the sight of the toothbrush that Dougie used resting in the holder. There was just something about it that felt right.
She took a deep breath, running her hands down her sweater to smooth it, before she headed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. It didn’t take long for Dougie to join her, and he accepted the glass of juice that she passed him with a smile.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
“Good morning,” she said softly back.
Dougie seemed to hesitate slightly, before his face became determined. She didn’t have time to ask him what was wrong before he leant down and pressed his lips to hers in a firm kiss. Ashley whimpered softly into his mouth, earning a soft noise back, and it was all she could do to clutch at his sweater. Holy shit. This was just as incredible and sweet as she remembered from last night. Wow. Dougie cupped her face with his free hand, thumb brushing over her cheekbone as he slowed the kiss down to a few gentle pecks, before he pulled away with a smile. Ashley just smiled back up at him, a little overwhelmed in the best way. Wow.
“Coffee shop?” he said.
“Yeah, if that’s alright,” she nodded.
He understood her routines. And he didn’t care that she wanted to stick to them. How could she not appreciate that?
Dougie just nodded in response, smiling as he sat down at her kitchen table, taking a sip of the juice she’d given him. “I wouldn’t mind changing out of last night’s clothes though. Not really my vibe,” he teased.
Ashley giggled, understanding perfectly. It wasn’t her vibe either.
“I could drive you over to yours, to get a change of clothes, and then we could head to Storm Surge together?” she suggested.
“Yeah? You want to walk in together like that?” Dougie asked, a little hopeful.
Holy shit, that would be one hell of a declaration. But…
“Yeah, I want that,” she nodded.
The grin that spread across Dougie’s face made the butterflies in her stomach worth it.
“Let me just put on some mascara and lipstick, and we can go?”
“Sure, whatever you want,” Dougie smiled.
Now that was a dangerous thought.
All too soon, Ashley was parked down the street from the coffee shop. She took a deep breath, Dougie sending her an encouraging smile, before she steeled herself and got out of the car. This was nervewracking. Storm Surge was her home away from home, her safe space, her comfort, and now she was completely changing the status quo. But as Dougie walked to her side, smiling down at her with such hope in his eyes, she knew it was worth it. He was worth it.
“Ready?” Dougie asked, holding out his hand.
Holy shit. Bring it on.
Ashley smiled up at him, taking his hand in hers, embracing the butterflies that came with the warmth of his grasp. They walked to the coffee shop together, Dougie squeezing her hand gently as she opened the door and walked through.
“Ashley! And…Dougie?”
Andrei’s gasp made her blush, Dougie just laughing. Then Andrei’s face broke into a huge grin, and he spun around.
“Marty! It’s happened! It’s finally happened!” Andrei yelled into the back of the shop.
What the hell?
A door slammed open in the back, and then Marty came barrelling out. He took one look at them holding hands before punching his fist in the air.
“LET’S GOOOO!”
Ashley flinched at Marty’s loud voice, but couldn’t help but giggle when he bounded over to Andrei, swinging an arm over his shoulders.
“Finally! Do you know how long we’ve been rooting for you two?” Marty beamed.
Oh god. Ashley blushed furiously, as did Dougie, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Was I that obvious?” Ashley asked shyly.
“Both of you were. It was so frustrating but so sweet,” Marty shrugged, Andrei nodding enthusiastically in agreement. “We just hoped you guys would take a chance,”
Take a chance. Hah. That’s definitely a good way to describe it. And he was so worth taking a chance on. Dougie smiled fondly down at her, before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
“Well I’d say our second date went pretty well,” Dougie said softly, squeezing her hand.
Ashley smiled back, nudging him with her shoulder, earning coos from Marty and Andrei.
“Okay, you two are giving me cavities,” Marty said cheerfully, not even slightly annoyed, “Coffee and anything you want to eat, on the house. I need to tell Slavs – he’s going to be thrilled!”
Ashley just giggled, leaning into Dougie’s body as she looked over the cakes and pastries on display. Being with Dougie, this fledgling relationship, was scary – but it was also so exciting. She couldn’t wait to see what happened next. This was the start of something amazing, she just knew it.
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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years
Text
Kip v Age of Calamity
For someone who writes tough shit on Age of Calamity, you sure don’t see me writing a better story. So maybe I should stop complaining and be satisfied with what was given to me. 
...or...
...maybe we can dedicated a few hours of my time to spite an ask. 
Even though the entire argument of “why are you mad if you can’t write a story yourself” is inherently flawed and pointless considering that’s the equivalent of telling me I should chug spoiled milk because I’ve never milked a cow, I’ll fucking step up to the plate here, I’ll put my money where my mouth is. 
So here is Part 1 of your residential Kip approved rewrite of Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity. Or as I like to call it: 
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Ok so before I get into it, a couple things I wanna establish. First, I know I just said I’m doing this out of spite, but I’m actually also doing this for fun. I really enjoy and am passionate about the writing process, so if you were looking for an angry rant about how terrible everyone’s opinions are about everything, this isn’t that. I don’t think that I am a better writer than anyone, or than the professionals that made this game, or that I am somehow superior to Nintendo. I am someone with the benefit of hindsight, I don’t have the constraints of producers and mandated directives and executives rubbing their hands in the story to make it more marketable or dumbed down or any of the other chaos that goes into crafting a videogame. So while obviously I think the people involved in this could have done a much better job, this isn’t a bash to say, “look how easy it is to make a story” because there’s a ton of unseen drama that goes into development that I have the luxury of avoiding, and it’s a miracle that any games are coherent and enjoyable in the first place. I’m just a lil Kip doing a fun lil exercise. 
This little series is also not going to be a fanfic. I’m going to be telling the story chronologically as if you were playing for yourself, but it’s going to be from my omniscient perspective because 1) I need to relate the story to the gameplay 2) That would take way too much time to actually make this into a fanfiction as it already takes a hell of a lot of time to even plan out the beats of this rewrite and 3) This is less going to be a telling of a story, and more of a fun little exploration on the Three Act Structure and The Hero’s Journey. In fact, I am going to try and keep the given story of Age of Calamity as intact as possible. 
The general ending is going to be the same, the characters used are going to remain roughly unchanged, (there will be no new characters, or removal of characters) and characters that live or die and where they end up are going to be mostly the same with how the original game is written. I know, I know, we all would love to see the Champions die brutally or to get us that sweet sweet Link angst or to have a game with multiple endings. And even though I personally would change some of those premises in Age of Calamity, I’m going to strive to keep it all as intact as possible, just to prove wrong the misconception that the story was only bad because of the writer’s choices for the general arc. I am a firm believer that biggest weaknesses of this game are in its methods of conveying its story, a problem in the storytelling process, and not (necessarily/only) the story product itself. 
If you want to use any of the ideas that I present, go for it! I release them into the public domain, I have no plans whatsoever to write a fanfic for this myself, in fact I already have my own separate Pre-Botw fic story that I am pouring myself into, so I give the people full permission to take these ideas off of me. 
Alrighty! With all that out of the way, let’s get into:
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HERE IS THE VERSION IN A GOOGLE DOC FORM BECAUSE TUMBLR HATES YOU MOBILE PEEPS
Spoilers! Obviously. I’m going to act on the assumption that you know the full story of Age of Calamity to save myself some time, capiche?
Ok so we start out the game roughly the same, with eggbot being chased and forced to time travel into a portal. But, there is going to be some important differences in details. 
We have the part of the scene where Zelda awakens her powers, and at the same time, something else in Hyrule Castle glows with the same aura. However, this glow is not coming from the Princess’ Tower, but instead, the camera pulls back from the fields of Fort Hateno, sweeps over Hyrule (where you can see the Guardians and the sense of destruction and all that) and the camera eventually flies over Castle Town, then within the Castle, weaving through the halls, until the camera stop and focuses on the entrance of a destroyed room, slowly creeping in. It’s a room that’s been demolished, stone rubble from Guardian blasts ruin the floor and cave in from the ceiling, there’s a small fire in the corners of the room, and from the props that you can make out, it seems to look like some study or office of some sort. The room is small, but domed and circular, signifying that it’s of a bit more importance than you might think . The desks and books and all buried beneath this collapsed stone brick. But as the camera focuses on that pile of rocks, from within that rubble, you see that same glowing aura that Zelda has, glowing brighter and brighter until finally out pops, eggbot.
Now, you can have that same sequence within the game where he runs around all cute, the outter wall of the room is broken so eggbot can look outside and see the Calamity’s destruction. Then that cut to Zelda saying “I want to save...everyone,” and this is important because I need the fade in between Zelda’s line and the fade back to eggbot to wordlessly imply that he is hearing these words, something that’s already done pretty well in the original cutscene. Anyhow, then the Guardian Stalker pops from behind, prepares to shoot, and eggbot can escape into its little time portal, and then the malice follows or whatever.  
However, I’m not gonna immediately cut to the title, but instead, we have the music build to eggbot’s little jump in a pretty climactic way. But then the music still lingers slightly, and rests in suspense, camera is still looking out the window where eggbot jumped. It pulls back, turning back into this room that eggbot emerged from. Music is still relatively silent. Then, from the corner, you see some of the fire suddenly catch onto something. Flattened between the rocky rubble, just a few feet where eggbot emerged, is a purple cloak, trimmed with gold, flapping just slightly in the wind. [Said flapping being what causes it to catch] The fire catches, burning through the cloak, and underneath it, is a fallen copy of the Sheikah tapestry of 10k years ago. Camera zooms into that art of the Calamity, music suspends, merge to title card, then the music hits that climax and BOOM, “Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity.” Main Theme plays. Let the opening title roll.
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Now the reason I changed this slightly is because 1) I wanted to earlier set up some of the plot points that I have planned for this (some of which you might already guess or maybe not who knows *wink wink*) and 2) I think that the original opening could have been much stronger with its hook. Yes, the element of mystery is established with eggbot’s existence and that element of time travel, but then the opening immediately goes into saying “This is the tale of champions, a diminutive Guardian who traveled backwards through time, and the Great Calamity they faced.” So...you just dampened that hook you established two seconds ago because you explained it all. Sure, it doesn’t completely ruin it, but I think the impact would be much stronger if that text wasn’t there at all, and the music and hype of the tapestry moving and coming alive is all there was. I’d much rather that element of time travel just be explained through the cinematography itself, because you can already understand that perfectly with that scene where you see the portal lead into birds flying around a beautiful Hyrule Castle.
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Also, the music in this game is fantastic! So letting moments that really let you soak it in, I think would be very beneficial. So now this scene serves as a much more effective hook before we get into the actual plot. The mystery of eggbot’s identity is heightened and left a bit more unexplained, you have this mysterious circular room that you’ve never seen before, and the set up of details that will eventually serve later revelations in the plot, cough cough. 
Then you hit Chapter 1, Link gameplay, eggbot and the tower, that’s all the same. I got no changes for the story there, it’s a great introduction. However! I know my strength here is writing and I am by no means a game developer or designer, but I need, I absolutely need to add one aspect to the gameplay.
Near the end of the first stage, where there are those three moblins at the end, I want to add something that I’m going to call, a gambit. The game already introduced you to the special meter and “press a to use special attack” thing, but I want Impa and Link to use a gambit to defeat this last horde of moblins. Essentially, you press A to use your special attack, BUT, if another character is in proximity, the attack is even more powerful. Every pair of characters has a special little attack, that does tons of damage, and during said sequence, there are voiced lines, or at the very very least text boxes that comment on it. And with this gambit, while a regular solo special attack still does a lot of damage, I’m gonna nerf it slightly to encourage players to use this gambit feature. 
Now, why did I add this? Because I need to better connect this gameplay to the story on more than an external “lets defeat this and go from point A to point B” type of way. I need something in the gameplay to better serve to the game’s main theme of “teamwork makes the dreamwork” and all that. The CURRENT gameplay, although absolutely fun and fantastic, just doesn’t do this. I need just one element to serve this theme while ALSO having the dual purpose of serving as character interaction. The current structure of Age of Calamity works where the sidequests and battle serve as your character interaction, development, and banter, while the cutscenes serve the main story beats, and important plot revelations. The cutscenes just aren’t crafted to support the weight of these dozens of characters while also giving them all interesting interactions, and that’s fine! So I’m just adding this feature to the gameplay, because being able to customize different lines for different characters for different stages that are voiced will go a long way into making the character development seem more fleshed out. And this gambit feature doesn’t necessarily change the way you play the game drastically, as you can still have four character slots and have them split up to take on the battlefield, but now you can split them off into groups of 2. And also, because I’m not completely blind to game design, the damage percentage boost of these gambit attacks will not increase as much, just slightly lower, than the damage boost of a solo attack when you level up. So what I mean is, when your character is weaker level, you are forced to rely on others in order to defeat your enemies, but, with the way the leveling up percents work, your characters can still reach a point where they can defeat big bosses all on their own without gambits. THAT way, when certain events happen in later chapters, when your character is all leveled up, (and maybe they awaken a sacred power or two) it feels all the more powerful when you can go off on your own. You can feel how your character has grown in strength because you can contrast it with your teamwork gameplay of earlier levels. AND it still highlights the importance of that theme of companionship, because you would never have gotten to this level of strength had you not relied on your friends. 
OK, so the stage 1 ends with a gambit attack, Impa compliments Link’s fighting style or something that shows her admiration or respect for him. And then stage 2 for the Road to the Royal Lab is the same, but gambit dialogue for that stage is Impa complimenting Link, Impa being protective of Zelda, and since this is Zelda’s first playable area, Zelda’s gambit lines can be about kinda brushing Link aside like “I want to capable to hold my own in battle but thank you” to Link (cause I never really got that same “I don’t really like you” vibe that is established in botw for this game) and then to Impa Zelda’s gambit lines can be like “is this thrill what you always feel when battling?” and Impa is like “yeah isn’t it great we should do it more often!” and then you can allude to that with a sidequest for Zelda’s training or something. I just want to better connect sidequest stories with this stuff. And also, gambits are obviously optional so that’s why this is all just banter and character development and not actually plot points, and I’m going to stick with just one-on-one dialogue, although it should be theoretically possible to have gambit boosts of three and four, but I feel that would be too much as I don’t want to ruin the gameplay balance and encourage you to keep all four character slots close together, because splitting them up is an important part of the game. Anyhow!
So Chapter 1 is done, my changes being almost purely in the gameplay because this is the start of the story and the character set up is important. Chapter 1 to Chapter 2 is basically the establishment of the ordinary world, and in the Three Act Structure it’s basically Act 1. Act 1 is all about set up. I need to really focus this chapter on both introducing the player to the mechanics of the game, having them connect to the characters and the characters connect to each other through the gameplay, and I need to establish this tone so that when I rip it away, and change the tone during the threshold, it feels more meaningful and suspenseful. 
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As you can see from the diagrams, Act 1 has something called the Inciting Incident. The Inciting Incident is going to be the Yiga attack in Chapter 2, where our heroes first experience the true dangers of their journey, and there is no turning back. BUT I’m getting ahead of myself.
Chapter 2 is also exactly the same. I would literally change nothing about the Champion’s sections (other than my addition of gambit interaction of course) because they’re all pretty great. For the record, yes, evil egg is still a thing, and yes, Zelda and the gang can still discover those pictures of the Calamity in eggbot, yes you beat up Revali, and the Divine Beast sequences are the same. I just really need that gambit dialogue to help establish character relations. Revali quips at Link, Mipha protects him, Daruk is his buddy [I thought a cool gambit attack for Link and Daruk to better show that they are old friends could be them both chewing down on some rocks, before striking an enemy simultaneously. Because they never eat rocks together and I just want this ok] Kohga is the same, Sooga is the same, BUT, for that scene when you first meet Astor in the Yiga base, I need two things to happen. 1) The camera reveal for Astor starts at his cloak, which is intact and NOT tattered like how his design is in game. It’s a deep purple with gold trim, the camera pans up to the back of Astor’s head. Now 2) When the camera moves to look at Astors face, I need him to be standing in front of and staring solemnly at the evil eggbot. He’s frowning, and his eyes suggest something like he’s deep in thought of something in the distant past. That’s how the scene starts, and in the background is Kohga recounting the events of his failure to beat Urbosa and the gang. Then, Kohga can say something funny to annoy him, Astor’s face changes to your classic villain disgust. Then, he can get a bit pissed and go on his little rant about how pathetic the Yiga are and how the Calamity is trapped within the evil eggbot and how he will use his powers to end the Kingdom of Hyrule. Then he can take his little astrolabe and be all “My harbinger, show me the future!” and all that. IMPORTANT LINE CHANGE,  Astor’s motivation here is not “The future, as it will and must be. I will not allow anyone to alter its course.” Instead, I need to tweak it slightly to be, “The future, as it was fated to always be. The pathetic stories and legends of children and false kings cannot waver this course. I will not allow it, for my sake…” camera pans to the broken evil guardian, Astor’s voice lowers just slightly. “...and yours.” The slightest, almost silent bits of the harmonies (not the melody) of the Hwaoc Main Theme play before fully fading back to Astor’s theme. And the final shot of that scene is Astor, looking down at the heap of Sheikah tech, with a neutral expression, but then looking back up at the malice stars, and the future visions of the Calamity. He just ever so slightly smiles. 
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[Also I JUST realized that the harbinger is actually slightly above Astor, because it’s supposed to show that the power dynamic is really Calamity Ganon is in control, so ignore the “looking down” parts I talked about, and just think in the broad direction of Astor looks at the guardian, and then looks further up at the ceiling with the Calamity and the future and then he smiles]
For that scene, I also need to remove any characterization where Astor is laughing and being joyous at the impending destruction, I only need that smile at the end. There is no villainous cartoon laughter, at least, not yet. Also the part where Sooga calls Astor a fool for thinking he can control the Calamity is GREAT I need that, that absolutely needs to stay in.
And then Chapter 2 closes off with that Yiga ambush. That’s the inciting incident, so I need the tone at the end to be slightly different. Instead of ending on that cute little thing where eggbot points angrily at Link, (like that part can still EXIST in there BUT) I need it to end on a more serious note. 
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Referring back to the Hero’s Journey, the Call to Adventure is the parts of each of the Champion’s recruitment. They each have their initial reasons for joining the fight, whether to protect their people, to feel validated for their skill, to get closer to the ones they love etc etc that’s all established in their respective stages.
This Yiga stage, however, serves as the official barrier between Act 1 and Act 2, the threshold between the known world and the unknown world, where the heroes prepare to seek out the obstacle that stands in the way of their goal. It’s important that this threshold establishes a sense of urgency, because that better gets you invested in the stakes, and helps the story's momentum to move forward. IT shows that the journey and adventure that these characters want/need to take is outside the safety of their home/known world.
In the original game, the threshold ends with that cute scene of eggbot and Zelda and Link and the Zelink vibes. That’s not bad, but it’s also not good. The momentum towards the later confrontation in Korok forest needs to feel more important, because this is a major turning point in the story. SO, I am going to add one more scene at the end. It’s just after the ambush, after the fires have died down, and Zelda (and in the back the Champions) discussing the events with the King. I want King Rhoam to a few things. First, I need him to kinda berate the Champions for falling for the Yiga’s “splitting them up trick” and leaving his daughter vulnerable. This 1) establishes doubt within the party, which makes for better uncertainty for the future and later internal conflict. This was supposed to be the dream team but the King is already kinda telling them off. 2) This also still characterizes the King as someone who cares for his daughter’s safety. That care for his daughters safety is layered in the subtext of him saying something like “Your priority must be to protect the only person capable of sealing the Calamity. You were so concerned with victory and glory in battle that you forgot that the fate of this kingdom lies on my daughter’s survival.” and blah blah blah. The King can also congratulate Link for keeping Zelda safe, and this is GREAT because that can add further to Zelda’s slight resentment for him, as he’s getting the approval from the King that she has yet to receive. But like overall the King is like “don’t leave my daughter alone cause she almost got killed if it weren’t for Link wtf.” and then that can also be a further excuse to hurry to korok forest to find the wielder of the sword so that they can better protect “not just the Princess, but the entire world,” something something fancy kingly dialogue. 
Also when the Champions leave THIS can also be the time where Zelda gives that Sheikah device thingy to Rhoam and also where he sees eggbot. I know that happens a bit later, but for pacing purposes and for the sake of the story changes that I made, it better serves to place it here. That interaction itself can stay mostly the same as it is in the game.
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So now, the threshold ends with a bit more tension. The Champion squad is powerful, but also has flaws in how they were split up by the Yiga, (cough cough I wonder if that serves the themes of the game in some way cough cough) and it’s not just “smooth sailing” into the search for the Master Sword, and the stakes are a bit rocky as we finally enter into the story’s Act 2.
= = = = = 
And that’s Part 1 of my rewrite. Not really a lot, cause again this is mainly character set up, and establishing stuff, but personally I think it’s already a bit stronger than how Age of Calamity did it. Stay tuned for Part 2 either tonight or tomorrow, mwahaha. 
Predict the future if you can...
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im-thinking-arson · 3 years
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Hi wow depression is a hell of a thing.
I'm sorry for the relative silence here, considering everything that has been going on in the last (roughly) year and a half it has been really hard to focus on any creative outlets. Everything has felt pretty heavy as I have been piecing together what exactly happened to myself and the people I used to share a community with.
Although my former FC is basically non-existent at this point, I feel it is appropriate to say that I no longer associate with its' leader @morganaux (sernoudenet on Twitter and formerly here) and to clarify why.
I have been struggling with what to even say about the situation. There are so many layers that I don't honestly know if any single cross-section could explain all there is to unpack. When it takes multiple people six months to explore everything they know as fact... I think that shows its not so much of a 'he said, they said' scenario as the few people who still support Morgy have tried to claim.
I feel guilty not speaking up sooner, considering this person is a member of the FFXIV community who I'm fairly sure some of my mutuals follow. Its so hard to speak out when he publicly acts innocent, like he has quietly moved on and refuses to acknowledge what he's done.
The reality feels so cold in contrast, with the knowledge I have- that he has done this multiple times before, burning down or wearing down those he has hurt with false sincerity; claiming innocence, claiming people misunderstand the significance of the intentions behind the knives in their backs, claiming he is the truest victim of the mess wrought of his own actions.
He quietly retweets fan art, cute animals, head canons, and all kinds of fandom things- but also others' tweets to identify with their own traumas- the same traumatic thoughts and feelings he incites in others through a mixture of gaslighting, lashing out, and playing the victim. He tweets passive aggressively about people he feels the victim of, (justified or not) even amid posts about his dearly beloved OC.
At this point I should just block him and try to scrape all memory of what I went through from my mind, but un-fucking-fortunately I know him too well to believe it's over when it's over. He still makes passive aggressive tweets about people he hasn't talked to in one, two, ?? years, a person who was a good friend to him for 10 years before he scapegoated them to maintain his own sense of righteousness.
Seeing as I witnessed him maintain not one, not two, not three- FOUR venting channels in his own discord, including at one point one specifically made for sh*tting on a single person, defending it's use and encouraging others to participate saying 'this is how victims cope'...
I know it's not over, and if he had a single shred of...anything... He could leverage against me he would have already tried to 'cancel' me. I'm not turning my back again to see if he decides to throw another knife.
For a long time I wanted to believe I had simply misunderstood the situation, that his intentions weren't so self-serving. The more I saw, the more I heard testimony from others that matched my own, the more I began to un-repress and process my own memories and connect the dots... And the less sense his own account made.
While I tried to maintain my friendship with him I ignored all the red flags, my own rise in anxiety, the isolation I felt. I felt so much pressure to fit into his equation, to be a supportive friend, to keep track of how he was feeling that I stopped taking care of my own mental health.
All the while he got angry for people not checking on him when he asked for space, threw a fit when anyone failed to accommodate his whims, and even accused his three closest friends of purposefully excluding him by taking screenshots without him in them or even hanging out together when he was offline..
And he would have people believe that most of the issues he was involved in centered on his friends not communicating with him. But in my case at least, nothing could be further from the truth.
I told him I felt uncomfortable with the fact his (at the time) friend had publicly lashed out at me in his discord server for stating my opinion. He suggested I work harder to befriend this person, that he couldn't and wouldn't approach his friend about it because he wasn't a FC member and only there as a friend of himself and his two closest friends.
He lashed out at a former friend (and FC mate) of mine -on my behalf- because they wouldn't stop messaging me while I was at work... And when this person subsequently put me on blast thinking I had put him up to it I mentioned considering posting my side of the story- to initially be shamed (by the person mentioned above) for suggesting I protect myself, stating it could make things worse for the people who had already publicly attacked this person...
I approached him about another former friend of his angrily ranting about a character I had though at the time they knew I was planning to RP (I had spoken about it both in-game and in a discord we all shared) because I didn't know them well enough to feel comfortable saying that made me feel uncomfortable and unwelcome in the space. I approached my former friend because I knew from experience he took things like this seriously and he was the one who had invited this character TO role play in the first place.
He reacted by telling this person he had no idea why I was upset, asked them to address an issue they had no context for - prompting them to write an apology, and then reinforced their worry that I hated them by saying I "probably disliked them since [I] hadn't written them an apology" in return. I had thought they both wanted to drop the subject because he stopped responding about the situation.
He decided the situation was resolved and kept inviting us around one another for at least four months while keeping up the illusion that I disliked this person despite me trying to remain friendly- and said nothing about the situation until AFTER he had nuked his FC and almost everyone was done with his bullshit. I had asked him to be honest about the situation and finally got "[name] thinks you dislike him" ???
(I might add more details about these situations because it's honestly much more of a mess than it might seem, but I'd probably have to write a fucking book to explain everything well in-sequence of events.)
But those examples aside, I told him up front that the favoritism he showed and my concerns being glossed over was messing with my head, that I didn't know if I felt safe in his FC, that the whole situation was making me feel like I was losing my grip on reality, that at one point feeling like I was being discouraged from defending myself was beginning to make me feel su*cidal. These are things he knew.
He reacted to this ignoring both cause and effect, ignoring me unless I reached out first or it concerned RP, continually inviting me to hang out with people he knew I felt uncomfortable with (or vice versa) and normally turning down anything I invited him to do otherwise- including several times that I offered to help him with Eden or dungeons he wanted to farm when he previously said he was free to do so. A couple of times he declined saying he was waiting to see if he could convince another friend... and then threw a fit about 'no one wanting to help him' despite declining my offer and not reaching out to me after his other friend declined (I was still online but he decided to vent on discord instead).
Behind my back he talked shit about me, enough that someone who had known him 10 years and was familiar with his behavioral patterns qualified it 'constant' bashing, whenever I came up in conversation. And even included confronting me about the three situations I mentioned above in a plan he was working on to 'fix' his FC, as if he thought I was reaching out to him to stir up drama.
Eventually it came out that the friend I mentioned in the first example was emotionally abusing his friends (and I found out later told him two of them were talking shit about him- prompting HIM to lash out at them). One of them mentioned that person had still been talking shit about me 6 months later on a private account and when I got upset that THREE people I had thought were my friends didn't tell me, I made a few jokes in poor taste (that I do now regret) about the situation to try and prevent myself from having a mental break down.
The person he led to believe I hated left the discord server at that point and he decided to divert some of the blame for (in his words) 'being worried for this person's life' -whom he had attacked over the situation- to me... blaming them leaving and him having trouble contacting them on me.
I told him if this former friend was indeed attacking people and he was so worried we needed to talk about the situation, since in other situations his response was to ignore the hurt caused. He blew up about me messaging him at work, he blamed me for every situation I had brought to his attention. He went to his mods to rant about me and sent one of them to scope out the situation in hopes they could shut me up.
This is the friend of 10 years, who quickly became concerned and not for the reasons he had hoped. They shared a few screenshots of things said to gaslight me behind my back as the conversation progressed. Eventually the other mod jumped in and, knowingly or not proceeded to gaslight me FOR him, based on what they were told. By him.
They reinforced everything he was saying in guise of a neutral perspective and my efforts to prevent a full-scale breakdown failed. I lost all grip on reality for several days- in which at some point I wrote an apology to him for accusing him of several things that were later proven true- and one thing he, himself, proved he'd lied about to the other person involved.
I spent almost two weeks in a self-imposed social break to sort everything out and attempt to cope with what I was told was reality. I fell into the deepest depression I've been in since I had to run away from home, and honestly if it wasn't for my wonderful SO and our house mates, I might have really hurt myself.
It turns out another situation had been brewing parallel to my own. People had been coming to the social mod, the friend of 10 years, with their own worries about him. Almost every. Single. Member. Including at least four people who came forward with fears that if they did a single thing that he interpreted as an insult or threat they would find themselves exiled, called out, and ranted about in a jumbled mix of truth and fictional-malice until their own friends turned on them to support his victim complex.
These four people came forward on the condition that their names be kept anonymous to protect their identity. He didn't take kindly to this, quickly demanding names so they (his mod team) could handle the situation. The mod refused, knowing he has a history of lashing out at any criticism against him and to protect those who were already afraid of bringing the problems up to Morgy.
He reacted by lashing out at this person, claiming they ruined his life, and attempting to weed out those who had spoken out against him by kicking anyone he didn't feel 'safe' being around from his FC. He posted a message in his FC discord about resuming his 'reign of terror'... Which, even if it was a joke, was in in poor taste after pruning his FC of anyone he didn't think could be convinced of his 'good intentions.'
I missed this first culling of his FC members, I assume, because I had apologized and at the time submitted to his version of events. He approached me soon after I noticed the changes in the discord and FC roster; claiming he really wanted to work things out and remain friends- going as far as to say he was so nervous about my reaction that he was shaking.
I wanted to take him at face value despite everything that happened because yeah, I did want to believe he was sincere, that he was a good friend, and that all of it had been an unfortunate misunderstanding. And at first I did until I started talking to other people who knew him and getting their side of the story. Nothing he said added up. Between first-hand testimony and over a hundred screenshots from multiple people the ONLY things that were clear and consistent were that he lied and fit his narrative to whatever he wanted to achieve.
He tried to reduce conflict by omitting information, he controlled people's perception of one another by how he spoke about them and how close he let them to himself and others, he built a support group by polarizing his friends against his 'enemies' and if anyone had a problem with him... They were wrong, and got added to the pile of 'aggressors' he had accumulated over the years, to be bashed and spit on for years to come.
He may have sensed my change in opinion when I directly asked him to help me reach out to the person who thought I disliked them-  managed to come to an understanding and we mutually apologized for the situation... Without his meddling. Or maybe when he realized I was still on talking terms with the people he had lashed out at and directly asked him why he had kicked people who did absolutely nothing to him... Or it could be that I kept in contact with the person who 'ruined his life' by trying to protect his friends from him. I don't know.
While we were still talking he tried to identify with me and bond over the feeling of loosing the FC, a group of people that despite the anxiety, and pain I had felt in the environment he'd built I did deeply respect and care about... Despite the dissolution of that group and the abuse I suffered being -at the core- his own fault. He even went as far as to say my description of the PTSD and fear I was experiencing described exactly how he was feeling, too.
As our conversations further weighed on my mental health I had to take a break from interacting with him. I was honest again, with what I was told, what I knew, and asked him for honesty about the situation... What he had said about me behind my back and why because I wanted to hear it from him. I wanted to see if he would acknowledge the harm he caused both to me and the rest of the (former) FC.
He never did, and probably won't. He asked for some time to tend to his own stress levels and mental health and then blocked me on all social media and discord, and kicked me from his FC without ever making an effort to reach out.
Of the few people who are still close to him, one of them suggested that "maybe he just decided he didn't want to be friends anymore." But after him begging to have a conversation to iron out all the facts, claiming to be so anxious about such a conversation going well that he was 'shaking', admitting that what he did hurt people and that my being wary of him was understandable, asking me -directly- to let him know if he did anything 'shady', and stressing he REALLY wanted this conversation to take place when we were both able to handle it because of how important he felt it was...
I feel like its fair to say that him suddenly cutting off all contact isn't quite so simple. He could have done that at any point. Before pointedly ignoring my concerns, before gaslighting me, before blaming me for the results of his own actions, before accepting an apology for accusing him of things he did legitimately do, and certainly before directly telling me had no real problems with me, that he it was super important to him that we remain friends, and that I deserved his honesty.
I'm not going to try and tell anyone who they should be friends with or not. Frankly, people can change and in a lot of cases experiences with individuals will be different.
But on that same note, if I had known then what I know now I might have saved myself from roughly two years of anxiety and avoided the state of dissonance I now find myself in. I still have moments where I want to doubt the things I experienced first hand. My mind is still trying to repress my own memories to cope.
A part of me still cares about him despite everything because as far as I knew, he was my friend and I am still trying to reconcile what I found to be true.
At this point I feel like I should say please don't harass Morgy if you read this, but honestly? If you have any reason to hold him accountable go for it. He needs it. And if you have any gut feelings about him or anyone in his circle please listen to it. The few supporters he still has are willing to ignore anything he has done previous to the fall of his FC and have shown they are willing to debate and accuse people who speak out about legitimate concerns involving him.
If anyone has any questions I am willing to answer them and share the proof I have.
And in the off chance anyone wants to (further) argue with me about my experiences or whether or not I suffered enough to be considered a victim, please Google some images of a hand giving the middle finger. But if after that you still really want to play stupid games? I can find you some stupid prizes.
I don't owe him my silence. Or peace of mind. The only thing I owe him is to be as entirely, brutally, honest as possible given the information I have. I think it's a fair offer considering the mind-numbing volume of honesty he -still- owes all of us.
- - - - -
I may add more onto this. Unfortunately the entire situation is a lot more complex, but I wanted to get the backbone of my own experiences out there and there is so much bullshit it can't all be seen from any one direction. A lot of the circumstantial evidence loops back into other situations and makes it hard to comprehensively represent everything on any sort of singular timeline. As I said in the beginning there is a reason it took a small group 6 months to piece it together.
I am far from the only person hurt, and the entire situation was a mess with people feeling unnerved or pressured into going along with his agenda. For the most part now that I have more context I don't blame most of the people involved for their own actions. I fully support those who can't or won't come forward about the situation whether they just want out of his drama, or are afraid to come forward.
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rileymarie · 3 years
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Fahrenheit 451 Quotes
“Let you alone! That's all very well, but how can I leave myself alone? We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?” And then he shut up, for he remembered last week and the two white stones staring up at the ceiling and the pump-snake with the probing eye and the two soap-faced men with the cigarettes moving in their mouths when they talked. But that was another Mildred, that was a Mildred so deep inside this one, and so bothered, really bothered, that the two women had never met. He turned away.
Once, books appealed to a few people, here, there, everywhere. They could afford to be different. The world was roomy. But then the world got full of eyes and elbows and mouths. Double, triple, quadruple population. Films and radios, magazines, books levelled down to a sort of paste pudding norm, do you follow me?”
Do you see? Out of the nursery into the college and back to the nursery; there's your intellectual pattern for the past five centuries or more.
Politics? One column, two sentences, a headline! Then, in mid-air, all vanishes! Whirl man's mind around about so fast under the pumping hands of publishers, exploiters, broadcasters, that the centrifuge flings off all unnecessary, time-wasting thought!”
School is shortened, discipline relaxed, philosophies, histories, languages dropped, English and spelling gradually neglected, finally almost completely ignored. Life is immediate, the job counts, pleasure lies all about after work. Why learn anything save pressing buttons, pulling switches, fitting nuts and bolts?”
More cartoons in books. More pictures. The mind drinks less and less. Impatience.
Surely you remember the boy in your own school class who was exceptionally 'bright,' did most of the reciting and answering while the others sat like so many leaden idols, hating him. And wasn't it this bright boy you selected for beatings and tortures after hours? Of course it was. We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone made equal.
Coloured people don't like Little Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don't feel good about Uncle Tom's Cabin. Burn it. Someone's written a book on tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people are weeping? Burn the book. Serenity, Montag. Peace, Montag. Take your fight outside. Better yet, into the incinerator.
You can't rid yourselves of all the odd ducks in just a few years. The home environment can undo a lot you try to do at school. That's why we've lowered the kindergarten age year after year until now we're almost snatching them from the cradle.
If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget there is such a thing as war. If the Government is inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it.
Cram them full of non-combustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy. Any man who can take a TV wall apart and put it back together again, and most men can nowadays, is happier than any man who tries to slide-rule, measure, and equate the universe, which just won't be measured or equated without making man feel bestial and lonely.
And the second?” “Leisure.” “Oh, but we've plenty of off-hours.” “Off-hours, yes. But time to think? If you're not driving a hundred miles an hour, at a clip where you can't think of anything else but the danger, then you're playing some game or sitting in some room where you can't argue with the fourwall televisor. Why? The televisor is 'real.' It is immediate, it has dimension. It tells you what to think and blasts it in. It must be, right. It seems so right. It rushes you on so quickly to its own conclusions your mind hasn't time to protest, 'What nonsense!'”
“Jesus God,” said Montag. “Every hour so many damn things in the sky! How in hell did those bombers get up there every single second of our lives! Why doesn't someone want to talk about it? We've started and won two atomic wars since 1960. Is it because we're having so much fun at home we've forgotten the world? Is it because we're so rich and the rest of the world's so poor and we just don't care if they are? I've heard rumours; the world is starving, but we're well-fed. Is it true, the world works hard and we play? Is that why we're hated so much?
Lord, how they've changed it — in our 'parlours' these days. Christ is one of the 'family' now. I often wonder it God recognizes His own son the way we've dressed him up, or is it dressed him down? He's a regular peppermint stick now, all sugar-crystal and saccharine when he isn't making veiled references to certain commercial products that every worshipper absolutely needs.”
The same infinite detail and awareness could be projected through the radios and televisors, but are not. No, no, it's not books at all you're looking for! Take it where you can find it, in old phonograph records, old motion pictures, and in old friends; look for it in nature and look for it in yourself. Books were only one type of receptacle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we might forget. There is nothing magical in them at all. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.
"Number one: Do you know why books such as this are so important? Because they have quality. And what does the word quality mean? To me it means texture. This book has pores. It has features. This book can go under the microscope. You'd find life under the glass, streaming past in infinite profusion. The more pores, the more truthfully recorded details of life per square inch you can get on a sheet of paper, the more 'literary' you are. That's my definition, anyway. Telling detail. Fresh detail. The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies.
“So now do you see why books are hated and feared? They show the pores in the face of life. The comfortable people want only wax moon faces, poreless, hairless, expressionless.
Only if the third necessary thing could be given us. Number one, as I said, quality of information. Number two: leisure to digest it. And number three: the right to carry out actions based on what we learn from the inter-action of the first two.
They're Caesar's praetorian guard, whispering as the parade roars down the avenue, 'Remember, Caesar, thou art mortal.' Most of us can't rush around, talking to everyone, know all the cities of the world, we haven't time, money or that many friends. The things you're looking for, Montag, are in the world, but the only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine per cent of them is in a book.
Don't ask for guarantees. And don't look to be saved in any one thing, person, machine, or library. Do your own bit of saving, and if you drown, at least die knowing you were headed for shore.”
The old man nodded. “Those who don't build must burn. It's as old as history and juvenile delinquents.”
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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years
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where you go I'm going
My very first ThanZag fic!! It’s Modern AU and its soft and it has Mort!!
Huge thanks to @minky-for-short who this fic is written for and also to my girlfriend @spiky-lesbian who knows absolutely nothing about this game but her review was ‘SOFT BOYS’ 
Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment! 
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Thanatos finds himself moving into his boyfriend's cramped little apartment with all its leaky pipes and street corner furniture and damp.
It's going to be a bit of an adjustment.
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When they had announced they were moving in together, everyone had automatically assumed they’d be moving into Thanatos’ place. His neat, well kept, painstakingly decorated apartment in the heart of the city with it’s sunken living room and immense kitchen and windows that opened up onto a stunning vista of the skyline, all of it near new and barely used. Plenty of room for both of them, everything they could need, people didn’t think to ask and simply assumed that they would be starting their lives together there.
Thanatos had rather assumed the same.
But here he was, standing in the closest thing he had to casual clothes, surrounded by cardboard boxes into which his neat, well kept life had been hastily bundled, looking around the battered, cramped little apartment his boyfriend owned and trying to think of it as home.
His home. Their home.
Zag was darting around the place, full of energy as he always was when he got nervous, trying to help Than unpack but making a rather bad job of it. The moving truck had left half an hour ago and already two mugs had been broken and they’d bumped into each other six times, with less than one box worth of stuff actually being put away.
Not that Than was paying much attention. He was moving through the shoebox of an apartment, with it’s tiny kitchen and the living room with the sagging, patchy leather couch that he knew Zag got off a street corner, the bathroom barely big enough for one person let alone two, the bedroom that had less than an inch of space around the double bed Than had bought. Or, rather, it would when they finally got around to putting it together.
He got back to where he’d started in less than twenty paces. Standing inside this claustrophobic chaos, Thanatos took a very slow, very careful sigh.
“You’re not happy, are you?”
Than turned to see his boyfriend standing in his- their- bedroom doorway, finally stopped and, in doing so, letting his anxiety catch up with him and show clearly on his face.
Thanatos chided himself sharply and moved towards Zagreus, cupping his face in his hands. He was perpetually cold and Zag always ran a few degrees hotter than usual so, together, they were always perfect. They always gave each other what they needed.
“I am deliriously, completely happy, Zagreus,” Than murmured softly, surprising himself with how much he meant the words, “And that is because I am getting to share more of my life with you.”
“But we should have gone to your place, this was a ridiculous idea,” Zag sighed but they’d had this conversation before and Than knew what to say.
He’d not always felt that with Zagreus, as their relationship had shifted awkwardly from childhood friends to what they had now, as the words had stuck in their throats and refused to come. But now he could hardly remember a time when he hadn’t loved this man with all his heart and he hadn’t felt completely himself around him. Not Death, not the son of Nyx, not the Reaper. Just Thanatos. Than, even.
“It will take some adjustment,” he smiled and kissed his forehead, “But I know just how much this place means to you. It’s your freedom, it’s your independence. I know how hard you fought to break away from your father and I...well, I’m just glad you brought me along.”
Finally Zag relaxed into his hand and a smile tugged at his lips, “Could argue that you followed me…”
Than chuckled, “The one time I ever broke the rules and look where it’s got me.”
Zag laughed with him, his eyes lighting up with a new frantic energy, a happy one this time. He responded to most emotions like a child who’d had too much sugar.
“Come on, I think I’ve figured out how I can fit your insanely big mug collection into the cupboard,” he was already off, dragging boxes out and ripping them open, “Or books! We could start on your books, I know you have that weird system…”
“It’s the Dewey Decimal System, Zagreus, libraries have been using it for centuries…” Than rolled his eyes, aware that his boyfriend wasn’t really listening, allowing himself to be pulled along in Zag’s rushing currents as always.
They worked quite happily for a while, Zag kicking his old radio to life and blasting some cheesy classics that somehow made the job more bearable when you sang along to them. For hours they sorted through the boxes, pulling out things Than had forgotten he even owned, finding the strange and amusing ways their very different personalities and very different lives fit together.
Before too long the closet was stuffed with alternating neat pinstripe suits and gym clothes, expensive black peacoats and hoodies plucked from thrift stores with incomprehensible slogans printed on them. There was suddenly more than two plates in the kitchen and more than one fork, knife and even spoons of different sizes. The edge of the bath held a neat regiment of seek products, each with a specific role in putting the physical embodiment of Death together, crowding out the bottle of five-in-one soap with the peeling label.
They were finally on to the bedroom, Than having wrestled Zag into at least tackling the rooms one by one. Putting the bed together was proving a real challenge, Than had been squinting at the instructions for ages and was one more unidentifiable screw away from calling Aphrodite and getting her to put Hephaestus on the phone, however insulting he’d find the request. He’d lasted longer than Zag, at least, who’d moved off to poke through the last few boxes.
Than was wondering why he could only count six bed slats when he was meant to have ten when he heard Zag gasp and burst into delighted laughter.
“What?” he frowned at him over his square rimmed glasses.
“Look who it is!” Zag cackled, turning and holding out what at first looked like a tattered scrap of cloth covered in dust but Than’s cheeks immediately flamed.
“I...look, I meant to throw him out a while ago but…”
“It’s Mort!” Zag was beaming wildly, holding the little felt mouse up like a trophy, “Gods, I haven’t seen him in ages, I had no clue you still had him.”
“Um...neither did I…” Than spluttered, well aware that he was a terrible liar when it came to Zagreus.
He was about as fooled as he expected him to be, tsking playfully and wagging his finger, “No, no, no. I remember how much you loved this little guy when we were kids, you’d carry him around everywhere! Oh! Did you still sleep with him all tucked up under your arm? Do you still take him in the bath and cry when he gets wet?”
“You sleep in my bed with me, asshole! And we’ve bathed together,” Than made a grab for him but Zag was quicker, he always had been.
“Aw, looks like I have some competition for your affections then, eh darling? Aren’t you just the sweetest, little god of Death still playing with his childhood toy...”
“My mother made him for me!” Than finally burst out, cheeks redder and voice louder than he’d meant, “Of course I kept him! Now stop acting like a jerk and give him back!”
Zag froze, his teasing chased away from his face instantly. Meekly he dropped the arm holding Mort and let Than snatch him back, silent as his boyfriend turned his shoulder and hunched down sulkily.
“I...I’m really sorry,” Zag said quietly after a moment’s awkward silence, “I thought I was just playing with you but...I went too far, I’m sorry I upset you. I remember how important he was to you.”
“Well…” Than swallowed, face still smouldering, “It is foolish. To still have him around I mean.”
“Aw, no love, come on…” Zag slid closer, putting an arm around his shoulders, “What, you’re going to start listening to me all of a sudden. I’m an idiot!”
“You are,” Than murmured, finding himself coaxed up out of his sulk, “But you’re mine.”
That made him chuckle happily, stealing a kiss to the inch of his cheek he’d revealed, “And it is so cute that you still have Mort. I mean that, I really do. You’re adorable and a little soft and that’s completely okay.”
“Well. As long as it doesn’t leak into my work.”
He wasn’t looking at Zag’s face but he could tell he was rolling his eyes.
“Hey,” he tucked a strand of white hair away to kiss Than’s ear, “Remember that time you really did lose him? When we were six years old?”
Than smiled coyly, “I do. You missed your bedtime and got yourself grounded going off to look for him just so I would stop crying. Everyone else had given up but...you didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” Zag hummed, kissing just below his ear now, then lower, then lower, down his neck, pulling back the shoulder of his jumper to get at his shoulder, “I don’t give up, not when it concerns you, my dear.”
Than sighed, muscles unwinding under Zag’s lips, “Love, you might notice we don’t have a bed yet so I’m not sure where you think this is going?”
“Ah, my cherished parter...” Zag rumbled, hands slipping down to gently put Mort to one side and give him access to his boyfriend’s lap.
Than found himself being turned, his back pressed to the floor, felt a crooked grin blooming on his face as Zag threw his leg over him and bent low until their noses were brushing.
“I think we can manage, eh?” his boyfriend purred.
Afterwards, Than sat up and stretched the kinks out of his shoulders, sighing in satisfaction.
Zag stayed on the floor, his head pillowed on the jumper his boyfriend had been wearing as he sprawled out contentedly, eyes drinking in the play of Than’s muscles, “I really am happy you’re here, my love.”
“I’m happy to be here,” Than looked back at him with a soft, loving smile, lightly brushing one cheek with his fingertips, “I think I understand what you mean when you talk about how free it makes you, finding your own place. It feels like everything’s started again. And this time it will be better.”
“It will be,” Zag caught his hand and kissed his knuckles.
An idea came to Than then and an easy kind of certainty settled over him. He reached over and snagged Mort where he’d fallen to one side as they’d become more occupied in each other.
“Here,” he smiled, holding his cherished childhood toy out to Zagreus, “Here, I want you to have him.”
“What?” Zag blinked, not understanding. He pulled himself into a sitting position, “Mort is yours, you love him.”
“And I love you,” Than still held him out, “So I want him to be yours now. You’ve given me a place here, in the only space that had ever really been your own and...well, this seems like a good way to repay you.”
“You don’t have to repay me!” Zag insisted, shaking his head, “I mean, gods, you’re going to be putting up with me twenty four seven-”
“Gladly,” Than cut across him, knowing the thoughts in his boyfriend’s mind would grow too loud if he let them, “I will do it gladly, Zagreus. Please, he’s yours now.”
Chuckling softly, Zag relented and took Mort gently. He held the battered old toy with a kind of tenderness, brushing some dust from his ear, “Thank you, Than. I promise I’ll look after him.”
“Well,” Than smirked playfully, “I’ll still see him every day and I will check.”
“Oh, I’d expect nothing less, my love.”
When they eventually did get the bed put together, a longer time later than either of them would ever admit, Mort would take pride of place in the centre of it.
Than would see him nearly every day with his happy stitched smile and, when he did, he would think of the apartment he’d left behind. All it’s expensive minimalist furniture, it’s sleek metal and black leather and unlived in neatness.
And Thanatos wouldn’t miss it in the slightest. He knew he was home.
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