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scarletwinterxx · 3 years

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voted most likely to run away with you

Okay but this is probably one of my most fave one? 😂 I do apologize for the slow updates but I’ve been very busy this past few weeks. I hope you like this one!

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2020 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

It’s always nerve racking on your first day of school. Especially now that you’re the new girl on campus, you can feel the anxious to the tip of your fingers.

You made sure you got to your first class early so you don’t have to awkwardly enter the room when there’s too many people. Sitting quietly on the side as few more students walk in.

You were too lost in your own world to notice someone standing by your table, you only looked up when someone cleared their throat

“What do you think you’re doing?” the girl asked

“Uh sitting”

“Was that suppose to be funny?” she sasilly asked, not knowing what to say back you just gapped at her. She was about to say something when someone spoke from the back of the class

“What are you doing?” the guy asked, you looked over to see a very unimpressed but veru good looking guy

“She’s sitting on your seat” she answered, crossing her arms and sending you a glare

“I don’t know there was a sitting arrangement” you mumbled, feeling embarrased. Thankfully someone saved you from your misery,

“No we don’t, you can seat there sweetheart. Stop bothering girls who come close within Jeno’s radius, will you” he sassily told the other girl, feeling like you’re in the middle of a fight

“I-”

“Leave her alone”

“Yea Haechan, leave me alone” she smirked but the boy, Haechan, just smirked back at her

“I was talking to you, leave the new girl alone” Jeno, you guess, told the girl.

You weren’t sure how your first day was going to go but that was definitely not how you imagined it would go.

Jeno took the seat behind you, not sparing anyone in the room a single glance. It was like nothing happened just moments ago,

“Thank you” you mumbled to him, he looked up at you with a blank look on his face

“I don’t like being bothered early this morning”

Oh okay then, you nodded then turned your attention to the front.

You didn’t see the way Haechan shot Jeno a look, the latter shaking his friend off ignoring him completely.

That was the first encounter you had with Lee Jeno.

As the weeks passed by you learned that he’s pretty much the most popular boy on campus, along side his three bestfriends. It’s like something straight out of a movie, whenever you see them walking down the halls, there’s a guarantee that heads will turn their way.

You’re no exception. but not for the same reason the rest of their fanclubs have. You were just curious about them.

The first one you met was the mood maker of the group, Lee Haechan. He’s pretty much friends with everyone. He was also the one who stood up for you on your first day. Pretty much since then you’ve considered him to be a friend too. There was something light about him, like you want to be friends with him. The second one was the foreign artsy boy, Huang Renjun, you always see him and Haechan arguing. Jokingly ofcourse, it’s always funny to overhear them argue about something pointless while waiting for your next class. The third one was a bit intimidating, Na Jaemin, He always have his earphones on with a blank expression on his face not really paying attention to his friends or at anything really. But when he’s with friends he can get just as rowdy. In contrast to his resting bitch face, he’s actually quite a sweetheart..

The last one, you aren’t going to lie, caught your eye the most. Lee Jeno. Although his initial appearance looked very intimidating, there was something comforting about him. He feels safe. That doesn’t make any sense since you don’t even know him or any of them, but that’s your initial impression on them.

You’ve mostly kept to yourself, you occasionally hangout with your classmates but most of the time you roam the halls or stay in the library by yourself. You don’t mind.

It was currently vacant time for you so you decided to go outside and sit on one of the benches. Pulling some of your notes out to study for a bit before your next class.

Too immersed in your reading, you didn’t notice the looming figure on the side. Totally catching you by surprise, making you jump up your seat

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”

“No, it’s fine” you smiled up at him

“Actually I have something to ask you”

That caught you by surprise, “Uh sure what is it?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go out with me some time?”

“Uh-”

“What are you doing?” You hear someone ask from behind you, looking over to see Jeno looking straight at Hyunjin

“Nothing that concerns you”

How you always end up in middle was a mystery to you, “He was just asking me something”

“If you think you can even get close to her, get lost” your eyes widened at Jeno’s words.

Is he angry? at you? at Hyunjin? What is he talking about?”

Hyunjin took his gaze off of Jeno then to you, you feel him stand closer behind you until you’re practically between the two boys

“Uh I think it’s time for one of you to go, or maybe I should” before you could stand up, Jeno’s hand land on your shoulder. Gently.

“He’ll go, right Hyunjin? Your presence is not needed here anymore”

The guys exchanged looks before Hyunjin walked away without another word.

You looked over at Jeno to ask him what just happened but he was already walking away, quickly gathering your stuff you jogged quickly after him.

When you got close enough, you pulled the back of his jacket making him halt his steps

“What the heck was that about?”

“Don’t worry about it”

“I think I should, since I feel like it concerns me” you told him ,feeling a bit aggravated with the way he was acting.

Not knowing that the guy across you is thinking just how cute you looked, glaring up at him like you could take him on.

You’d probably win.

“If he bothers you again, tell me”

“That doesn’t explain anything, Lee Jeno”

“If he bothers you, tell me” he repeated his words, making you nod in agreement

“Okay good, now go study in the library. It’s colder in there anyways” he said then walked away.

Few days have passed since that incident, Hyunjin acted like it never happened. Like you don’t exist. It’s still confusing just what went down that day but what’s more confusing is the boy sitting behind you.

Lee Jeno changes his mood like the weather, you’re never sure just what it will be the next day. One time while waiting for class you start, you were sitting on your seat skimming through your notes, your hair kept falling on your face so you keep tucking it behind your ear. It went on and on.

Then suddenly you feel someone tug on your hair, catching you by surprise

“Do you have a hair tie?” Jeno whispered by your ear, at this point you’re pretty sure the whole had their eyes on the two of you but that was not where your attention was.

Jeno was literally so close to you, you can feel his breath on the side of your face

“Huh?” you dumbly asked making the boy chuckle, “You know those things you use to tie your hair”

It was mistake to look to side and be face to face with him because he was literally right on your face. Your cheeks burning at this point. Not being able to form any words, you just held your wrist up showing him the hair tie.

He smiled then took it from you before leaning back on his seat. You feel his fingers weave through your hair, “What are you doing?”

“Braiding your hair”

“You know how to?”

“Mhm”

He didn’t say much after that, you didn’t say anything either. Still on the process of trying to calm your raging heart. Meanwhile Haechan was trying to hold back his laughter, Jeno shooting him a quick glare to keep him quiet.

That’s when the rumors started.

The new girl got the It Boy.

You’re never one to mind what other people say about you. That came in handy during these times since you can practically feel the daggers coming from Jeno’s fangirls.

Planning to talk to him about it, you tracked Jeno down after class one day. Finding him by the parking lot with his friends. Renjun was the first one who spotted you walking towards them, patting Jeno on the arm making the latter look over.

“Hi, uh can we talk” feeling a bit intimated when all four pair of eyes landed on you, keeping your gaze on Jeno

“That’s our cue to leave” Haechan said, pulling Renjun along with him. Jaemin shooting a smile before following behind the two boys.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Jeno asked when you didn’t speak again

“Uh yea well, can you like tell your fanclub we’re not like dating or anything like that” at this point you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t believe you just asked him that, he probably doesn’t even want to be acquianted with you like that either.

“And if I don’t”

“Sorry, pardon?” you leaned your ear closer to hear him clearly

“I said, what if I don’t?”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t want to tell them that” he said with an amused look on his face, finding your expression cute. There’s that glare again, looking like you can take him down.

You already did.

“But we’re not dating. Come on, Jeno please” you exasperatedly said

“I don’t really care what they say, why do you?” it took you a few seconds to answer, gathering your thoughts to give him a coherent one

“And why would you want to be acquainted with me? I’m like-”

“Like what?” he asked like he was challenging you

“I’m me, you’re you”

“That’s not a very solid argument” he laughed, making you sigh out loud

“Please can you just tell them that, I’d very much appreciate it if they don’t glare at like like their ready to jump me every time I walk in the room”

He walked towards you, crouching down until you were eye to eye

“I don’t know, I kinda like it though”

“Whyyyy” you grumbled, even stomping your feet

Jeno wanted nothing but to keep you in his pocket, if he could. You were being so adorable, it took every bit of self control not to gather you in his arms and whisk you away.

“Because maybe I do want to date you”

You looked at him with an unimpressed expression, rolling your eyes at him

See, the cutest. Jeno thought.

“You’re weird you know that” now that’s not the response Jeno was expecting, but it was so you to say that.

“I’m weird because I like you?”

“Stop saying that” you’re now a blushing mess, that was the final straw for him.

He pulled on your arms until you were flush against him,

“And I don’t?”

“I-”

“You?”

“You’re driving me crazy, Lee Jeno” you grumbled then pushed him away, walking off leaving him behind.

“You’re driving me crazy, too” Jeno said as he watch you walk across the lot, a small smile playing on his lips.

From that day one, it seemed like you can’t get the boy off your mind. Much like he can’t keep you off of his.

But unlike you, he wasn’t afraid to show it. You were shocked when he suddenly sat across from you during lunch,

“What are you doing here?”

“Eating”

“I can see that but why are here? Your friends are right there” you said while pointing to where the other three guys were sitting,

“I want to sit here though” he shot you his very adorable eye-smile before he resumed eating

“I have a question” you told him, “Sure, I'll go on a date with you” you just shot him a glare, him showing you another smile

“Remember when you said to tell you if Hyunjin bothers me again?”

“Why? Did he? When?” he asked, his expression and posture completely changed

“No no, he didn’t. He hasn’t since that day, really. I was just wondering what was that about” you told him, watching Jeno relax once again but not missing the way he clenched his jaw when you mentioned that incident

“I overheard him and some other guys betting on you, saying he could make you go out with him then not show up”

That was what it was about? Why would Jeno care though when he barely knew you back then

“Why did you stop him though?”

He looked over at you, eyes on yours like he was trying to say his answer without actually saying it out loud

“I can’t read minds, you know” you mumbled, breaking the tension. Jeno chuckling at your statement.

“No one deserves to be treated like that, first of all. And secondly, have you ever thought I meant it when I said I like you?” he asked you

“You’re being weird again” was all you said back to him

“Careful now, next time you call me weird I might have to prove you wrong” he smirked at you. You didn’t how he’ll prove you wrong, worried your pretty little heart might not be able to handle it.

You just bit your lip and look back down on the table, feeling Jeno’s gaze still on you. Not knowing just how weak you’re making him right now. Just how much power you hold over him.

“Tell me again why you called me to talk at this time of the night?” You asked Jeno who was walking beside you,

“Just cause”

“And you happen to bring this bottle of goodness with you?” you asked, holding up the banana milk he just gave you

“Knew you wouldn’t say no if I give it to you”

“Smart”

You really didn’t have any destination in mind, just walking along the streets. You didn’t actually mind that he called you. It was the weekend, you don’t have any plans beside staying at home and watching some shows.

“Hey, wait” Jeno said making you halt your steps, then he was crouching down in front of you

“Yah what are you doing?” you asked

“Your laces are untied” he answered as he took your shoelaces and tied them back together. “There” he said when he was done, smiling up at you.

Just then you swear you felt your heart skip a beat.

Who knew this intimidating, scary, cold looking guy was such a sweetheart?

“Why are you looking at me like that? You’re worrying me” he chuckled at you, standing back up so now you’re face to face

“Lee Jeno”

“Mhm, that’s me”

“You’re very weird” you whispered, then his arms were around you. Tangling around your waist until you were flush against his chest. Your heart hammering away in yours.

“You want to say that again, sweetheart?”

“You’re weird, Lee Jeno” then his lips were on yours. You didn’t expect him to be so gentle, but he was. His lips were as light as feathers on yours, the taste of the sweet drink still on his lips making you smile

When the two of you broke apart you were still smiling at him,

“What?” he asked

“Okay maybe now I believe you” you told him, “That’s all you needed? I should’ve kissed you back then” that earned him a smack on the arm

“Shut up”

“You like me”

“Unfortunately” you said then started to walk again

“Hey, no running away from me now”

You looked over to him, seeing the smile he had on was enough to convince you. Holding his hand out for you to take,

“Want to run away with me instead?”

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Text

Its Own Reward

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Words: 2,098

Summary: If, at times of unseemly emotional vulnerability, Tech found himself longing for the one thing The Bad Batch didn’t have... well, that was between him and his overactive mind, thank you very much.

Warnings: Mentions of blood/injury later on, but very minor

A clone's favorite game, in the whole wide galaxy, was Picture Your General.

Picture your general in the heat of battle, lightsaber flashing, tearing through Separatist forces with the intensity of a Kaminoan storm.

Picture you general in the aftermath, entering a meditative state, calming the battalion with their mind alone.

Picture your general giving an order and you, standing tall, accept it with pride. Picture yourself as their right-hand man. Their greatest asset. The tool that will win this war.

Of course, at this stage one brother or another would point out the flaws in the fantasy. "Only a few of us will ever speak to them," they'd say. "You're not making Captain. Commander? Dream on. And watch the arrogance, vod. We're important, sure, but we're disposable too. No one is going to mourn us when we fall, certainly not a Jedi."

From there they would either grow quiet in discomfort, or pummel the offender with whatever was in reach, depending on the makeup of the group. No matter the outcome though, the game would inevitably repeat just a few hours later, picked up by everyone from the youngest cadet, to soldiers a day from their first assignment. Every clone in existence wanted to picture their general; imagine up a person worthy of the Kaminoans' stories and, though shared with more reservations, imagine the place they'd find at their side.

Every clone, that is, but Tech.

Well, he supposed Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair might be the same, but that was a hypothesis he hadn't tested yet. Out of everything Tech still needed to learn, that was rather low on his priority list. Meanwhile, spending time on a useless game was downright foolish. Oh, he had nothing against games on their own — they fostered a number of desirable outcomes, including, but far from limited to, a social comradery that would serve them well in battle — but this game, Picture Your General, had nothing to offer him. For the simple reason that Tech would never have one.

It was a fact the Regs took great pleasure in pointing out. Frequently.

"Ignore them," Crosshair said, stealing an extra ration off Tech's tray. History implied that he wasn't actually that hungry, merely interested in teasing Wrecker with the extra food. He'd pretend to save it for most of the night until, inevitably, handing it off as a grudging, midnight snack. Crosshair played with the food, but Tech knew his attention was on the rowdy group to their left. "They're not worth it."

Given that it was just the two of them, Tech allowed himself a scowl, snatching the ration back. He had nothing against Wrecker receiving additional food, especially given his fast metabolism, but it was the principal of the thing. This was his. "Says the man who instigated four altercations this week."

"I like riling them up." The food moved back to Crosshair's side of the table. "You don't."

"You're mistaken. I take great pleasure in correcting our less cordial brothers. Though their initial claim is sound, the reasons for why we will not be assigned a Jedi are erroneous in the extreme."

"You mean that we're useless, unwanted defects who don't deserve to lick a Jedi's boots?"

"While I wouldn't have phrased it quite like that... yes. It's factually incorrect."

"Hmm. Your face doesn't say 'factually incorrect.'"

"That's because you're stealing my food!"

"You're mistaken," Crosshair mimicked, this time stuffing the ration deep into his pocket where Tech didn't have a hope of reclaiming it. "Ignore them."

Tech rarely denied himself the chance to speak at length on any topic he pleased, but this time he bit down on the retort that he literally could not. The Kaminoans had ensured that he picked up and payed attention to everything around him, even what he didn't want to hear.

Still, clones were nothing if not adaptable and very little in this galaxy was black and white. The very thing Tech craved was also evidence of his greatest joy: the rest of his squad. They weren't made for a Jedi, they were made for each other. The Regs might have seen that as another defect, but Tech understood the inevitability of balance. If he wanted something as remarkable as his team, he had to give up something else in turn.

Like the knowledge that someone else, anyone else, was fighting for them. To the Kaminoans they were property. Expensive and prized property, no doubt, but even the most beautiful tool would be discarded in time. To the other clones they were outsiders, a blight on everything else they took pride in. And to the Jedi they were... non-existent. Or near enough, Tech supposed. When called to assist a battalion they usually did so on the outskirts, getting into the enemy territory their brothers couldn't negotiate, leaving for the next suicide mission by the time they'd caught up. It resulted in a reputation that was, ironically, quite uniform, given their otherwise individualistic looks and personalities. The Bad Batch was a team of four who did what other clones couldn't. That's all the Jedi needed to know; presumably wanted to know. And Tech could hardly fault them for that when in the midst of a war. Like him, they had much more important matters to occupy their thoughts.

That naïve indifference — an inability to be seen — might have been bearable if Tech hadn't accumulated such a clear picture of them. Oh yes, much of it came down to his academic nature, scrolling through datapads in the dead of night, soaking up information about anything, but especially that which was so crucial to the war... but there were stories too. The GAR was full of them. Whereas cadets played Picture Your General, soldiers spoke of the real thing, at times even more fantastical than their imaginings. Whispers spread through the ranks of Master Obi-Wan's compassion, claims that he fought for clones on and off the battlefield, giving as much respect as he demanded in turn. His former Padawan was, they said, as much a vod as any of them, prone to establishing an equality based on practical jokes and near-death situations — the kind of insanity clones were genetically predisposed to enjoy. There was talk that Unduli welcomed every soldier into her ranks with a Mirialan ritual, that Windu was fighting for clone rights in the Senate, even jokes that Plo Kloon had millions of adoption papers ready and waiting for the war's end... utter nonsense that last bit, of course. Yet every time Tech scoffed at a Reg's unseemly devotion, an awful little voice in the back of his head pointed out that the jokes had to stem from something. One did not craft rumors about a Jedi's kindness unless they had done quite a bit to establish it in the first place.

Tech didn't need kindness, only assurances. Bonds with the Jedi provided his brothers with a connection outside of the Kaminoans. They were building a network, however small, for the day this war ended. The Jedi Council would fight for the clones, Tech was sure of that... but would they fight for a shadowy, defective squad they knew little about? Their place in this galaxy began with each other and ended with the occasional, dubious acquaintance of Hunter’s. That was not enough to survive on and Tech cared only about such practical matters.

At least, that’s what he told himself for a time, but it wasn’t in Tech’s nature to dismiss facts. Like how once Master Shaak Ti had laid a hand on his arm after training, bestowing a smile and words of praise that Tech later kicked himself for missing, too busy being disgustingly flummoxed by the attention. That warmth, gifted three different ways, stayed with him long after they'd left their simulations behind, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't rationalize it away as planning for the future.

Tech wanted a Jedi of his own. He simply... wanted.

In time those feelings didn't abate, but they were buried under an avalanche of new ones which, from a technical standpoint, he supposed amounted to much the same. After Kaller, Tech had lost his purpose in serving the Republic. Worse, he'd lost a member of his squad, even if he eventually got him back. Crosshair's presence now could no more lessen his past absence than food in one's hand could feed a starving man from yesterday. Tech's home was gone. The familiarity of his brothers' faces, even those twisted with cruelty, was something he craved. Everything from the rooms they'd once slept in to the smell of sterilized halls— all absent. So if Tech sometimes stared out at the stars and felt horrifyingly incomplete, who was he to say what that stemmed from? There were too many possibilities. The data was corrupted beyond repair and trying to divide what he'd lost from what the Kaminoans had denied him was an entirely useless endeavor. An experiment not worth his time.

Still, Tech was made of curiosity. His mind was always on the lookout for patterns and new information, whether he wanted it to be or not. In truth though, he figured that Omega's near death was an experience that would have stood out to anyone, genius not required.

Her screams were quite the conductor for one's focus.

"Shoot it! Shoot it!"

The order was for Crosshair, but Hunter couldn't see that he'd been knocked out by the krykna's last attack, one spindly leg the size of a cruiser slamming into his side. Hunter himself was trapped, hands scrambling to free his leg from the cave's crevice even as he yelled. Tech noted, in the dim way his mind noticed most things during a crisis, that he was now using his knife for leverage, cutting into his calf in the process, uncaring. Meanwhile, Wrecker was overwhelmed by the krykna's cluster, something about his size and boisterous nature attracting them like... well. Like kryknas to a clone. Echo was trying to help, but the planet's magnetic field had been messing with his prosthetics ever since they'd landed. Tech saw them both disappear under a small mountain of the creatures, yelling Omega's name all the while.

And Tech... he was running. Yes. He realized that now, legs pounding across the ground, heedless of the numerous arachnid bodies that crunched beneath his boots. He couldn't say that his attention was solely on Omega, her face now just inches from the krykna's pincers. It never was. Tech couldn't help but catalogue a hundred other observations as she neared death's door, most of them quite distressing. Like the difference in height between him and his brothers. Or his abysmal scores in sprinting back on Kamino. Omega was at least five meters away whereas the krykna, most assuredly, was not.

I'm going to lose another one, Tech thought as his next laborious pant turned into a sob. Probability proves it.

Thank the Maker his calculations were incomplete.

Later, the five of them would describe the sensation as akin to static electricity. Even Crosshair, unconscious, would say that he'd felt something passing along his skin, heedless of armor and all the more disconcerting for being... impossible. An impossible memory. Only Tech and Hunter saw it though, the moment when the krykna rose off the ground and flew, all five tons of it, slamming into the opposite wall where its skull caved in like an over-ripe fruit.

Omega sat with her little hand outstretched, looking just as dumbfounded as her brothers. When he finally reached her, Tech found evidence of the krykna's teeth on either side of her neck. They'd only just punctured the skin.

A moment of certain death, averted through instinct. Destiny? Perhaps some combination of the two.

"It's okay. You're okay. Omega, please breathe for me."

Tech was blessed — sometimes cursed — with an extraordinary memory, the ability to recall not just books' worth of information, but images in perfect clarity too. Superimposed over a sobbing Omega was a cadet from his youth. No one important. No one whose name Tech had bothered to learn, uninterested in remembering it against his will. But the boy's words had already been spoken.

"Kriff, maybe we're wrong, vod! Maybe the defect will get a Jedi. After all, don't they say the Force works in mysterious ways?"

An insult, a taunt, and now perhaps a speck of wisdom that Tech should have heeded. He pulled Omega into his arms, one gloved hand sinking into her curls, the other wrapping tight around her waist. He'd performed this gesture a hundred times before, but this time it felt like something slotted into place.

"There you are," Tech whispered and for now, he'd pretend that this was nothing more than a reassurance.

#TBB #The Bad Batch #TBB Fic #Tech #Omega #Crosshair #TBBfic #Star Trek #SW

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puckinghell · 5 years

Text

Fall | Carter Hart

Summary: While Carter Hart tries to teach your 2nd grade class how to skate, you try not to fall... flat on your face, or, for him. Words: 2826 of 7433 Note: The request was for 1 imagine but I accidentally came up with a 3 part series... This is part 1. Also I was today years old when I realized Carter Hart and Shawn Mendes have the exact same energy

When you told your roommate goodbye this morning, you hadn’t done so with the expectation that it was going to be a nice, peaceful day. After all, any day spent with about 25 seven year olds was destined to be filled with chaos, and that was how you spent all of your days lately.

But you could’ve never had guessed what the universe had in store for you.

If Nancy, the head mistress and the woman monitoring your progress during your internship, had told you there was currently a pink elephant flying through your classroom, you would’ve looked at her with the same expression you’re currently wearing.

“What do you mean Babs is sick?”

Nancy shoots you an understanding look, filled with empathy and maybe pity, when she shrugs. “Just that. She has the flu. There’s no way she can make it today, and we simply don’t have the means to get a substitute teacher in. You know how excited the kids are about this day, and you’re basically a teacher yourself.”

You’re not; you’re only halfway through your education to hopefully one day become a teacher, and this internship was meant to give you a first taste of the job. You loved it, so far; the kids were amazing, if sometimes a little rowdy, your days were never boring, and Babs, whose class you’d been observing, had been nothing but a role model to you. She was exactly the kind of teacher you hoped to one day be; fun, loving, caring, and stern when need be, but always fair.

She’d taught you a lot, but definitely not enough for you to be send out on your own.

“I don’t think I can do it, Nancy.” You hate the way your voice quivers, but you can’t help it. You know if today gets canceled, you’ll be letting down the kids. They’d been looking forward to it for weeks.

“They’re so excited, Y/N,” Nancy says softly, playing on your feelings of guilt even more. “And I don’t think we could reschedule. The Flyers’ season is almost over, and it was so generous of them to even invite us in the first place…”

With a few very fervent hockey fans in her class, Babs had told the kids to write a letter to Carter Hart, the new Flyers goalie. You’re not a big hockey fan, put in absolutely no effort whatsoever to keep up with the Flyers, in fact, but even you know that he’d been brought in in a highly criticized, time’s up-desperate move by management, and he’s still young; around your age. However, he’s so far surpassing all expectations and the kids had been talking about him with so much excitement, Babs had thought it would be a nice gesture to write him a little thank you letter.

Undoubtedly, she’d been thinking that it would be good for them to learn to show some gratitude. Undoubtedly, she’d not expected to get a response back from the Flyers, inviting the whole class to the arena to participate in a special Flyers practice, where they would be hosted by Carter Hart himself.

And of all days possible, she has to get the flu today.

“How would I even get there?” you wonder out loud, and a smile appears on Nancy’s face. Your resolve is falling, and she knows it too.

“We have a bus ready. Just get them in the bus, get them out the bus. Someone from the Flyers will meet you there. Try to keep them from accidentally murdering the Flyers hot new goalie. The bus will still be there at the end of the day, bring them back. That’s all.”

You sigh, nod. “Okay.” There’s no way you can let down the kids. It all sounds so simple.

Of course with a bunch of 2nd graders, nothing would ever be simple.

“Rachel, please keep on your shoes. We’re still in the bus. Simon, don’t pull Darya’s hair! Patrick, close that window!”

“It’s gonna be a long day, huh?” Paul, the bus driver you had seen on many field trips, sends you a sorrowful look, and you sink back into the uncomfortable chair you’ve been sitting on for the past hour.

Of course, on the one day you really need to get these kids somewhere, there’s traffic.

“It’s gonna be a disaster,” you mumble. “I don’t know anything about the Flyers, Paul. Their biggest superstar could walk straight past me, and I wouldn’t recognize him.”

“Superstars probably prefer it that way, you know,” Paul tells you wisely, and you sink deeper into your chair, focusing on the road.

Finally, you get there, and somehow you manage to get all the kids out of the bus and into the arena without any casualties.

Well, Thomas falls and busts his knee, but you tell him that would cause the hockey players to mistake him for one of their own, and he stops crying after that.

“Miss Whackerman’s class?” An older woman stands in the hallway, a smile on her face and a clipboard in her hands. “I’m Janine, I’m with the communicaties and PR department and I’ll be with you today.”

“Oh!” You quickly shake her hand. “Y/N. Miss Whackerman is actually at home with the flu, I’m taking over the class today.”

Janine’s eyes travel down your body and you try to ignore the judgement in them. You’re not even sure what she doesn’t like; that you look too young to be a teacher (you are), or that you don’t look put together enough (when you picked this particular hoodie this morning, you didn’t know you would be going anywhere).

“Very well,” she says finally, and to her credit, she’s still smiling. “Follow me, then.”

You try to shush your students as they follow Janine through the hallways of the arena, but it’s clear the excitement is getting to them. Fast whispers and little pushes ensue, but luckily, you get to the locker room safely.

“Here we are,” says Janine. “You can go inside and start putting on their gear. I’ll go get Carter.” At the sound of their favorite goalie’s name, the kids all fall quiet, their eyes widening with realization.

You barely register the sound of Janine’s heels walking away, when you, too, realize what she’d said.

Gear?

You open the door to the locker room and are met with a room much bigger and lighter than you’d expected. In every single stall hangs a jersey, with a kid’s last name on it.

Squeals of excitement explode around you and suddenly little bodies are running past you, their little hands grabbing the jerseys and pulling them down. There are skates, and pads, and helmets, and you have no idea what to do with any of them, but some of the kids seem to be familiar with them and start dressing themselves.

“Miss, I don’t know how to tie my skates.”

You look down to find Yasmin standing there. She’s a shy little girl, and it has taken her a few weeks to even look you in the eyes, but when she started talking to you it had felt like your greatest accomplishment ever. Now, you’re staring at the skates in her hands with horror in your eyes.

“Uhm.”

“Need help with those?”

The voice that interrupts your moment of panic is deep and unfamiliar, and yet, at the sound of it, almost all of your students turn around in lightning speed. When you also turn, you understand why.

Opposite you stands Carter Hart. You don’t know much about him but you’ve Googled him on the bus ride here, wanting to make sure you wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself by not recognizing him. On Google, he’d seemed cute, but in real life, he’s gorgeous. With toned arms, which he has crossed over his muscular chest, and a lot taller than you’d somehow expected, he looks like he’s walked straight out of a gym membership commercial, and you know what?

If guys that went to the gym looked like that, you might actually go.

You’re torn out of your oggling moment by Yasmin’s little hands clinging around your leg. She’s staring up at Carter with big eyes and you can’t help but giggle at the starstruck, but terrified, look on her face.

“We really, really do,” you tell Carter honestly. “I can’t say I’ve ever tied a skate in my life.” Carter laughs at that, and points to the bench in Yasmin’s stall. “Take a seat, honey.” There’s something soft and friendly to his voice, and it doesn’t surprise you that Yasmin obliges immediately.

“It took me a while to learn how to tie them, too,” Carter speaks softly, while he sits down next to Yasmin and extends his hand. “Can you give me your leg?”

You watch in awe as Yasmin does as she’s told, then, looks up at him and quietly says: “Thank you.”

Unbelievable. It took you three weeks to get her to talk to you. You understand Carter is a lot more attractive to talk to than you, but still. Three weeks!

Carter ties the skates, then stands up and looks around the room. “Anyone else need help?”

Everyone raises their hands, even the ones that clearly don’t need help at all, and you laugh. “No, no lying! If you’ve got your gear on, sit down and wait for the rest. Who actually needs help?” Only a few hands remain, and Carter goes by them one by one, dutifully tying skates and tucking jerseys and strapping on pads.

“Is anyone here a goalie?” he asks, but the room stayed quiet. You know a bunch of the kids have played hockey before, but so far you’ve not heard of any aspiring goalies. When no answer comes, Carter shrugs. “I guess you all just have to shoot on me then.”

This causes a loud, communal cheer to erupt, and everyone follows him to the ice.

You sit on the bench on the side of the rink as you watch the kids. Some of them are actually decent skaters, others are clinging to a chair for dear life.

If you were on the ice, that’d be you, so you stay where you are, burying your hands in the pockets of your hoodie.

Who knew an ice rink would be so cold.

Apart from Carter, you’ve been joined by Janine again, a bunch of ice girls, and of course, Gritty. In Gritty, Carter has some competition for favorite, as your class has crowded around the giant orange mascot and is currently trying to bring him down.

“He’s popular with the kids, huh?” Carter skates over to the boards, leaning over them to peek into the bench. “Are you not coming out?”

“It’s kinda weird, cause he’s terrifying,” you admit with a smile. “And no, I’ve never skated in my life.”

“Ah, come on, time to change that!” With seemingly no effort, Carter hops over the boards and plops himself down on the bench next to you, asking Janine to go get you some skates before you manage to protest. While he speaks to her about what your size is, you allow yourself to look at him for a few seconds.

God, he’s handsome. It’s so ridiculously unfair, that most of the time when you see him on TV, his face is hidden by that giant hockey mask.

He’s not wearing that, today. In fact, he’s not wearing any gear, just some skates and sweatpants with a hoodie.

“Do you know how to put them on?” Carter turns towards you as he talks and if he catches you staring, he’s polite enough not to call you out on it, although the hint of a smile dancing on his face leads you to believe he definitely noticed.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you frown. “Uhm, I mean, it can’t be hard.” You wiggle your feet into your skates.

“Let me tie them for you,” Carter hurries to say, when he sees you struggling, and drops to his knees to grab your foot. And, well, you don’t want your skin to burn at his touch, but you can’t really help that. “They need to be tight, or you’re gonna break an ankle.”

That’s when you remember most kids have tied their own skates, and a wave of worry washes over you.

It’s quickly pushed away with worry over your own health and wellbeing, when Carter stands up and extends his hand. “Ready?”

You snort out a laugh. “Absolutely not.” Yet, there’s no way you could say no to those blue eyes of his, and you grab his hand and let him pull you up.

The ice, unsurprisingly, is slippery, and you cling to the boards for dear life. Carter’s laughter rings through the air.

“Do you want me to bring one of those chairs?” he teases, then reaches out and grabs your elbow, attempting to steady you. You glare at him, but your pride takes over and you try to let go of the boards.

Just when you think you’ve found your footing, Rachel comes skating over. It’s clear that it’s not her first time on skates, and your pride takes another blow as you realize the 7 year skates better then you probably ever will.

“Miss Y/N, you’re skating!” Rachel might be better at skating, but she isn’t that good at stopping, and before you grasp what’s happening, she bumps into your leg and your legs slip out from under you.

For a split second, you’re convinced this is it for you; you feel yourself plummeting towards the ice, and surely you will hit your head and split it open and Carter’s worried face will be the last thing you ever see.

Not that that’s the worst thing you could see, but you’re not ready to die.

But instead of the cold hard ice, you’re met with something hard and warm, strong hands gripping your arms as you bang your head against his chest, the soft fabric of his hoodie against your cheek.

“Wow, careful.” His voice is soft, his breath warm against your hair as he speaks. You have to push against his chest to get yourself back upright, and damn your face for flushing as red as it does at just the mere contact. His hands remain on you, but slowly go down from your arms to your hands, grabbing them. “About that chair…” he drawls, and you would’ve hit him if you weren’t using your hands to hold onto him for dear life.

“Sorry, miss Y/N!” Rachel says. She fell too, but is already standing back upright. “Isn’t it lucky that Carter was there to save your life?”

“Save your life, huh?” Carter chuckles, and there is a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“So lucky,” you tell Rachel, who beams up at you before skating away again, and then you look up at Carter. “Saving my life might be a bit dramatic, but you did save me from going face first into the floor, so thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he hums, and that’s when you realize your hands are still in his.

Just when you’re starting to think you couldn’t possibly blush any more than you already were.

Then, a voice calls from the tunnel.

“Hartsy, time for practice, dude!” You assume it’s one of Carter’s teammates, although you have no clue who it could be.

“Coming!” Carter calls back, then shoots you an apologetic look. “Time to wrap this up, I guess.”

You swallow. “Could you, uhm, perhaps, bring me back to the bench?”

Ah, you definitely can blush more.

He laughs, and slowly starts guiding you towards the bench, one of your hands in his and his other hand on the small of your back, softly pushing you. You gratefully grab the boards and manage to climb back onto the normal floor yourself.

Thank God.

“Kids, time to say goodbye to Carter!”

Immediately, the kids come skating over to him, giving him hugs and high fives and saying thank you. Only Yasmin stays behind – her skating has been, possibly, even worse than yours – and Carter goes to get her, lifting her in the air and carrying her back to the safety of the ground.

“Thank you, mister Hart,” Yasmin says, her voice soft but clear, and he smiles at her.

“You’re so welcome, Yasmin.”

Finally, he comes over to you. “Thanks for bringing them, this was fun,” he says, and are you imagining it, or does he look genuinely sorry for having to leave?

“Thanks for saving my life,” you joke, and he laughs.

He waves again, and then he skates away. But before he reaches the tunnel, he calls over his shoulder: “See you around!”

And when you find out later from Nancy that he’s going to come back to your school to do a PE class for the kids, well, it’s in a completely professional way that you feel excited like a kid on Christmas morning.

#carter hart #carter hart imagine #carter hart one shot #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #nhl writing #philadephia flyers #philadephia flyers imagine #philadelphia flyers one shot #carter hart fic #philadephia flyers fic #nhl fic #hockey one shot #hockey imagine

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zanykingmentality · 5 years

Text

title: the ways we say i love you chapter: 1/1 fandom: avatar pairing: zutara notes: for @goldenclasp and @zutaraexchange summary:

but this is wartime, dearest. only a few make it out alive.

[ in which katara and zuko mend the breaks. ]

AO3

zuko knows a number of things, like the smell of early-morning dewdrops dripping from leaves, the crimson glow of a fire fueled by rage, and that he is irrevocably in love with a girl who wants nothing to do with him.

he’s learned to track animal prints, and how to distinguish them; he’s learned tears don’t always mean sadness, and eyes full of affection can turn into something so twisted, so brutal, so vicious.

his mother told him, once, that love is a choice. love is being together after quarreling and spitting angry words, and love is dangerous dance that neither ever learned the steps to. improvise, zuko, and you’ll make it. he’s not sure when it became less about love and more about heartbreak, or survival, but his mother has always had a way of making things fit.

when he was too selfish to listen or understand, his uncle told him love isn’t anything. pure love is unconditional and selfless; that’s all. he said love is something we define for ourselves.

zuko has never thought much of love. and, even if he had, he would have thought love was a distraction, or something he couldn’t ever achieve.

he never thought about the way it could feel to imagine someone’s fingers intertwined in his, someone’s life intertwined in his. until he does, dreaming beside a crackling fire, and the reality of it is like a slap in the face.

to a scarred boy with nothing to call his own, love is a daydream. love is a fantasy. it is not, was not, a reality.

love has no place in war.

(still, he remembers kindness and the feel of her cool fingers against his scar. he doesn’t let anyone touch it. but she did.

somehow it feels right, that it should be her. even though he knows it’s not.)

he shifts in the dark and stares at twinkling lights centuries above him. they sparkle despite everything; they are a constant in a world that has known only injustice for far too long.

and he starts to think, no, love isn't for him. maybe what he's mistaken as love is a reaction, a normal emotion stemming from a super-charged moment surrounded by crystals and loneliness. until he sees her again the next morning, and the glare she shoots him makes his heart unexpectedly pound in his chest.

he knows her narrowed eyes and piercing gaze like the back of his hand, by now. he knows her mistrust and doesn't blame her for it.

but he also knows her soft smile when she cares, the fluid movements of her arms when she waterbends, the way she sleeps without moving, like she's ready to spring into battle at the slightest noise. he knows the ever-present fear in the back of her eyes, and how her expression is almost always guarded and unreadable.

this is wartime, and she was not born a soldier, but she was forced to be one. he knows he had a hand in that.

he has many regrets. but he will make them right again.

ii.

katara doesn’t expect zuko to understand. it was his people that took her mother away; how would he know that any kindness she offered him was like disrespecting the circumstances of her mother’s death? she extended to him an olive branch, once, and it turned out to be the worst mistake she’s made. to put trust in someone who rips it apart. to try to help someone who tears her apart.

she ignores his eyes over the fire. the temple is cold and drafty, and she knows zuko is warm, but she’s entirely unwilling to meet him with anything but scorn.

deep within her, she still feels some kind of call to him, some kind of siren song that pulls her toward him. it makes her body tingle with rage and something she doesn’t want to name, something that makes the anger in her even greater. katara tries her best to be a calm and parenting figure, but zuko… zuko.

so she’s surprised when he comes back with suki in tow. she’s surprised he didn’t sell her brother over to the highest bidder at the first possible chance. it’s not enough to trust him yet, but enough to make her think. she’s even more surprised when he helps sneak her out to the general who’d had her mom killed.

even more so when zuko stands back and lets her decide if she should kill. if blood should be on her hands, too. she drops the water around her and turns back to zuko, ready for the day-long flight ahead of them.

this is when she begins trusting him again.

she lets him help her collect food and water and overlooks the way his hand accidentally brushes hers as they walk. she’s not ready for the idea of it being intentional yet.

if zuko is a star she is the rest of night: inky darkness and silvery moonlight. she decides she doesn’t mind it so much.

iii.

being friends with katara is nothing like zuko imagined it would be. then again, he wouldn't let himself indulge in those kinds of fantasies much before he actually re-earned her trust; no point in entertaining thoughts that went straight to the pangs in his heart, anyway. they both wake early and sleep late, careful of the rise and fall of moonshine and sunlight, like a dance they tiptoe around together. they spar sometimes at night and in the morning, and they're evenly matched, depending on the time of day.

she opens up to him slowly. first it's a thank-you for helping her find closure. then it's the feel of her hand in his on appa’s back. as romantic as it feels to zuko, it's not meant like that; he knows it's katara’s way of being supportive, of understanding that he's left everything behind for their motley crew of teenagers and a cause to destroy the father he once wished could love. he doesn’t try to read between the lines of her palm.

he could, though. he could torture himself like that. he could let his dreams run away from him and imagine too much too early. she’s not obligated to like him at all, zuko feels lucky every time she doesn’t forcibly oust him from camp ━

then he jolts awake with the ghost of lips on his. his traitorous subconscious shows him scenes he can only wish become real.

by the time they’re safely on ember island, zuko’s hope has been only slightly rekindled. the girl-turned-warrior he’s fallen in love with still has a soft streak to her, like low tide, such a contrast from her sharp ice-rain. that morning after he’s tossed and turned for hours, he finally sits up. katara looks over at him.

“feeling alright?” she asks.

zuko rubs his head. “yeah, i think.”

she’s already finished making breakfast, is sharpening knives of ice using a rigid stone. the small smile on her fast juxtaposes the violent scraping of rock on ice.

“you look like you haven’t slept,” katara observes.

“i was thinking,” zuko says.

“penny for your thoughts?”

zuko stands and sits next to her on the steps, resting his elbows on his knees. “i just… i have my doubts. who knows how all this is going to end.”

katara nods but says nothing, pausing mid-scrape. she drops her tools and takes zuko’s hand, reassuring in her calm, steady grip. nothing like his hands that tremble as he combs them through his short hair. they sit for a while, resting, until the others wake up.

iv.

the ember island players are arguably the best part of their time on the island, but that’s not saying much. there was only one thing that the play got right: growing feelings, at least on zuko’s part. as they trudge back to camp, he can’t help but notice more acutely the slope of katara’s shoulders, the way she ushers them all along, the mother hen of the group.

he notices, over the next few days, the soft smiles that come to her face when she’s content, the stressed furrow of her brows, the slight downturn of her unimpressed mouth. he notices her mouth a lot.

but they are warriors, bred to hurt and kill, taught by powers beyond their control to hate and fight and never surrender. zuko only learns the true meaning of surrender when she stares into his eyes for a brief moment, affection in the undertones of her stunning blue eyes.

they’re alone one night when zuko finally begins to break. he looks at her lips for a beat too long, and katara notices. he’s afraid she’ll pull away from him immediately, terminate the friendship they’ve been growing ever since the abandoned air temple ━ but she doesn’t. katara’s eyes flit down over his mouth, his chest, back up to his eyes. she smirks like a challenge.

“is it okay,” zuko asks, “if i kiss you?”

“i was starting to think you’d never ask,” katara murmurs.

for once, zuko does not hesitate. he presses his mouth to hers quickly; heat overcomes the simmering fire in his veins, and he feels the cool touch of her water when she reaches up and splays her fingers along his cheek. he pulls her toward him with an arm around her waist, reveling in this, the intoxicating, beautiful feel of katara and zuko.

when all is said and done, they move to the fire nation. katara wanders with wide eyes around peacetime festivals, no longer trying to reconcile the three versions of the fire nation she now knows: a band of cruel murders, a desolate people in search of hope, and a rowdy crowd filled to the brim with enthusiasm.

zuko links his arm through hers and pulls her toward a stand selling strange, blue drinks for a coin a cup. in the time that comes, he will be passing laws and treaties and orders to get the fire nation back on his feet. but zuko knows, he will not be alone. he takes a sip of sparkling blue magic and looks at the girl at his side, dressed now in red with the stab of her blue eyes. he sees katara and she sees him.

some say the love between them could only have lasted during the war. when they were both soldiers, fighting for the same cause. but zuko and katara both agree ━ the real story starts here.

#avatar #atla #zutara #avatar: the last airbender #prince zuko #katara #zuko/katara #the pair of my heart #i'm unsure how much i like this but i had fun writing it #frost writes

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byunskjm-blog · 5 years

Text

Changes (VI)

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! AU, Idol! AU

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader x Baekhyun

Length: 3.6k

Changes Masterlist

The next morning you woke up expecting Baekhyun to be gone and for this all to be some dream, but reality was different. There he was, sleeping like a prince, so beautiful, so ethereal. All his features seemed enhanced from close up. The cute moles the adorned his face, the way his pink lips parted slightly while he slept, his fluffy black hair scattered over his forehead. Your fingers traced over his soft features, making sure to not wake him up in the process. You brushed the hair of his face to get a better look at him, then you traveled down to his right temple where his most noticeable beauty mark laid, and you finally got to his baby soft cheeks where another mark was placed. How could a man this beautiful exist and be in bed next to you? It was mystery. You looked at the time and it was only 6 am, the shoot didn’t start till 10 am today which gave you about 4 hours of bliss before you had to face the outside world.

Carefully, you got out of bed and put on a clean pair of panties and put on Baekhyun’s sweater. You were happy to know that the sweater never lost its warmth. Softly you made your way to the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast for the pair of you. Sehun must’ve been out as well because there was no trace of him. You opened the fridge and was a little disappointed, you needed to go shopping soon. You still had enough food to make a decent breakfast. The menu was eggs and french toast. You quickly got to work and started cooking. You were humming like a bird whilst cooking and that might have been what woke Baekhyun.

With a smile on his face he walked over to you to plant a wet kiss on your cheek. “Good morning beautiful.” Even his voice in the morning was beautiful.

“How’d you sleep?” You asked before flipping over a piece of bread.

“Better with you around.” He was a cheeky son of bitch but you liked it, you liked the cliches. As if you were trapped in a cheesy rom-com, he snuck up behind you and snaked his arms around your waist. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, it tickled a little when he would breathe and it hit your skin but you just continued with what you were doing.

“Don’t forget the shoot is at 10 which means you have to go home and change by then.” It sucked that you had to but a damper on the mood but you had to remind yourself that you were also his manager and his work comes before anything.

He mumbled a soft reply before removing himself from you and pouring a cup of coffee. “Have you checked your phone yet?” He asked in between sips.

You shook your head, “I’m too scared to look.” He gave you a look, a look that had your heart ready to burst at the seams.

“Like you said, they wouldn’t be lying. There is nothing to be scared of.” It was easy for him to say that because he wasn’t the one on who had to be on the receiving end of death threats and endless hates. He also didn’t have to worry about whether or not he would be fired.

“Baekhyun your fans are pretty… uh… aggressive to say the least.” You turned off the stove when you finished the last piece of toast. “You saw what they did to that poor girl who played your love interest in that drama, and she is famous and has a following of her own. Imagine what they’ll do to someone like me.” The nerves were setting in once you started to think about the repercussions of this.

“They won’t do anything. I’ll make sure of it.” His hands fell onto yours and took it into his warmth.

“You can’t say things like this Baek. You can’t make empty promises.” The last thing you wanted was another relationship founded on lies.

“Who says they’ll be empty?” He lifted your chin to meet his eyes. “Once they find out how good you are to me, how well you look after me, and how happy you make me, they’ll love you.” When you looked into his eyes you saw nothing but genuinity. Something about those brown eyes just told you to believe him and to trust him.

“Come on lets eat.” You said putting the conversation to rest and moving on.

During the whole time eating Baekhyun complimented your cooking nonstop. You thought he was just trying to flatter you because this was like a 6 on your capability scale. But nonetheless you took his kind words and smiled.

The time for you guys to leave came sooner rather than later. You both freshened up, unlike Baekhyun you put on new clothes. He would be stuck with his clothes till he got back to the dorms. Sehun still hadn’t been home but you that was last thing on your mind. Your phone still went unchecked, you haven’t opened pandora’s box. Once you did there was no turning back. You would see the most horrendous comments about you online and have everyone on the face of the earth looking at you, giving you unwanted attention. But you couldn’t back out now, you already told Baekhyun that you would face this together.

Both of you walked out of your apartment building hand in hand, with face masks incase any fans or photographers were there. He lead you to his car and drove to the dorms. Xiumin and Chen found it suspicious that Baekhyun was gone all night and when he finally showed up it was with you. They must not have checked their phones either. None of them had social media so it would take more time for the news to hit them than others.

On the drive Baekhyun’s hand never left yours even while you read the headlines of allkpop, soompi, and many more sites. “Ooo this is my favorite one: CBX star, Byun Baekhyun caught on scandalous rendezvous with alleged girlfriend!” Both of you laughed at the word choice of the article. “At least I wasn’t referred to as a mistress this time around.”

All these articles came attached with multiple photos of you and Baekhyun, almost always touching or holding hands. But none of them got a clear view picture of you. It was blurred or your hair was covering your face. You were thankful because that meant you had more time to prepare for the storm. “I think we should till Minseok and Dae first and foremost. If something were to happen they would be affected as well.” You nodded at his words and felt proud that he was making responsible choices.

Unlike your place, Baekhyun’s was being bombarded by reporters. They were all gathered around the gate and when they saw his car pulling in they quickly swarmed the car. Baekhyun was careful not to hurt anyone whilst pulling into the driveway. Keeping your head down and following his orders, you waited for Baekhyun to get out first and for him to come around to get you. He opened the door and reached his hand out for yours. He kept you behind him while walking to the door so that you wouldn’t have to face the rowdiness of the crowd. All you heard was, “Baekhyun who is she?” “How long have you guys been together?” “Is she pregnant?”

Thankfully you made it in the house in one piece only to be rushed by Xiumin and Chen with questions of their own. They found out. Like agreed upon, you and Baekhyun came clean and confessed. They were shocked but not surprised. They had their reservations mainly in fear for you. The had the same worries as you did, the fear of the fans reaction to all this.

“CEO Kim won’t be happy about this.” You totally forgot about him. There was no doubt that once he found out that you would be out of a job. It was only a matter of time before he called you both to his office.

Not wanting to dwell on it, you told the boys to start getting ready to go. Baekhyun went up to his room to change and the other two followed after.

What the hell did you get yourself into? You literally got out of a work relationship just to land yourself right back in the same situation. But the difference between this one and the last is that Baekhyun wasn’t Junmyeon, and you knew his feelings were real and there. With Baekhyun you could truly trust him unconditionally. After Junmyeon you thought that was it for you. You believed that he was the best it got for you. That was before Baekhyun pulled you out of the rain. He saved you from yourself. If it were anyone else you probably wouldn’t have taken such a big leap so fast. But this wasn’t just anyone, this was Baekhyun, your Baekhyun.

You knew they were done when you heard all three of them screaming as they came down the stairs. Xiumin said he and Chen would drive to the set and you and Baek will follow suit. The reporters were still there when you left. Lights flashing as their cameras took pictures.

Today’s shoot was different in a way that Baekhyun wasn’t being draped with girls. His eyes and affection were reserved just for you. Between shoots he would sneak away with you and give you soft kisses. “Baekhyun i’m working.” You said leaned up against the back of trailer.

His hands were placed on either side of your head. “Yeah for me and as my manager you need to attend to my well being and oddly enough you are exactly what I need.” He leaned in for another kiss but you stuck out your hand and stopped him before he could get further.

“I don’t just work for you, Chen and Xiu are my priority too.” He pouted the most adorable pout in the world.

“Are you saying i’m not first?” He was playing hurt.

You tiptoed to give him a smooch on the cheek, “Of course you’re first. But at work I can’t play favorites.”

He smiled because he knew he was being a pain in the ass. “As long as i’m your favorite anywhere else then that’s all that matters.”

You wanted to pinch his big cheeks for so many reasons but instead you just told him to get back to set before the director gets mad. Huffing and puffing he walked back, dragging his feet. It was cute seeing him be so clingy and attached. With Junmyeon you always had to catered to his schedule and his needs. But Baekhyun was there 24/7 which made you feel at ease.

After another couple hours or so, the mv was finally wrapped and the boys were free to go. They suggested a celebration but the boys had to be in the studio bright and early tomorrow. You all left the same way you came, you with Baekhyun and Xiumin with Chen.

Car rides with Baekhyun may have been one of your favorite things ever. He never failed to keep a smile on your face. Always singing cute, silly, love songs whilst holding your hand. This time his song of choice was Lost In Japan by Shawn Mendes. He performed as if he was in front a million of his fans, but in reality he was just singing for his number one fan. The song ended just as Baekhyun pulled up to your place. “You know I won’t sleep well tonight.”

You were still in the car, his hand still joint with yours. “And why is that?” You asked with a raised brow.

“Because you aren’t there.” There he goes again with his cheesiness.

“I think you’ll do just fine Baekhyun. You’ve managed to sleep over 20 years without me. One night won’t kill you.” His infamous pout came out and you knew you should have just taken his cute words and ran with it. “But i’ll miss you too.” You added trying to make it better.

“So why can’t I spend the night again?” Optimism gleamed in his eyes.

“Space is good in a relationship Baek. If we are attached at the hip 24/7, we’ll eventually grow tired of each other.”

He scoffed, “Me? Getting tired of you? Never.” He said in a matter of factly tone.

You chuckled at his comment, “That’s what you say now.”

Out of nowhere he grabbed your face in his warm hands and squished your cheeks. “Look at this face. I could stare at it for days on end and never get tired of it.”

You copied his actions as well. “Ugh why do you have to be so damn cute?! How can I ever leave you now?” He was batting his lashes like a cute, innocent puppy. “Fine you can stay the night.” He was about to yell in joy but you cut him off. “BUT! No funny business. We both have to get up early tomorrow, and since we have to go back to the dorms for you to get ready that means early than planned.” He saluted you as if he was a private and you a captain. “What am I gonna do with you?”

The following day was a bit more difficult than the day before, mainly because Sehun was there and you knew you had some explaining to do. To say you were caught in a compromising position was an understatement. Sehun had busted into your room to see you and Baekhyun cuddled up, sleeping soundly. Being the weirdo he was, he didn’t just leave you and Baekhyun be. No, he sat at the edge of your bed and just watched the pair of you snore away.

Baekhyun woke up first and was the one who saw Sehun just creepily staring. He let out a shriek which in turn woke you up in a worry. You looked toward what caused the scream to erupt from Baekhyun and saw Sehun batting his eyes with a smile of innocence. “Sehun what the fuck?!” You yelled throwing a pillow aimed for his head.

“Oh don’t let my presence stop you two love birds.”

“Wait you know him?” Both of you were trying to calm your heart rates.

“Yeah, he is my roommate and the biggest pain in my ass.”

He rolled his eyes at your harsh comments. “You love me.” He sent a flying smooch your way, only for you to flip him off. With his hand clutched on his heart, he pretended to be deeply affected by your actions. Finally he got off your bed and walked to the door, “Come on, i’m cooking. You can tell me about this,” he said signalling between you and the other person in your bed.

The red on your cheeks spread and you were embarrassed to be caught in such a compromising position. When Sehun finally left the room you buried your head in Baekhyun’s chest out of pure shame. Both of you just laughed at the predicament at hand.

A few minutes later both of you left the room to go outside where Sehun was. He had three plates already scattered with food on it. “Ah Sehunnie.” A satisfied a sigh left your lips as you looked at all the food. You turned to see Baekhyun pouting. “What’s wrong?”

His droopy eyes found yours. “You don’t have a cute nickname for me.” He was bitter over your cheesy nickname for Sehun, it was cute.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and pouted as well, looking up at him, since he was taller than you. “You’re my Baekhyunnie.”

Immediately his smile lit up like a Christmas tree. He grabbed both sides of your face and squished them together, before bending a bit to give you an eskimo kiss.

“You both are ruining my appetite.” You heard Sehun from behind you. Both of you finally detached from one another, only to find yourselves sitting side by side. “Wait, i’ve seen you somewhere.” Sehun said pointing his fork at Baekhyun with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah probably all over Seoul. He is in CBX.” You responded to your best friends cluelessness.

“Ahhhhh that’s him!” Then it hit him. “Wait?! How did you?! What?!” You and Baekhyun just laughed at his reaction.

“Don’t ask me because I don’t even know how it happened.” You said before stuffing a strawberry in your mouth.

“Let’s just say that I can be very persuasive when I want to.”

Sehun applauded him, “I gotta give it to you man. I really thought she would be stuck on that douchebag forever.” Then the room went silent and awkwardness lingered on. Everyone knew who Sehun was talking about and that’s what made you so uncomfortable.

Deciding to get the spotlight off you, you switched the subject to something Sehun loved talking about, himself. “So where have you been these past couple days?” Suddenly Sehun had so much to say and talk about. He went on and on about his time in Germany and how he met a cute girl there. It was no surprise to you that you would somehow land on the topic of his love life. But he kept that part of the story brief with not much detail.

Like he always does after a trip abroad, he brought back a gift for you. This time it was a picture he took of the Berlin Wall. Sehun’s story time lasted throughout breakfast, when you and Baekhyun finished eating you thanked Sehun before leaving to get ready for work today. As planned the night before, you had to leave earlier than usual in order for Baekhyun to freshen up. Even if Baekhyun was older than Sehun, he still was respectful towards him and thanked him for the breakfast once again.

Unlike the last time you and Baekhyun left together, there was a coup of photographers outside just waiting for you and Baekhyun to come out and expose yourself to the world. It was Baekhyun who suggested you just follow him and keep your head down. He even went as far as to give you his facemask because protecting your identity was more important than protecting his own. Like many times before you both walked out with hands intertwined and faces looking downward. Baekhyun pushed through the crowd, making sure to not let go of you until you reached the car. The loud noises never stopped even when you were in the safety of Baekhyun’s car.

He looked over toward you, concern adorning his brown eyes. “Are you ok?” You nodded in response before taking his hand in yours once more. You knew it would help settle his nerves.

Not much was said on the drive to the dorms. This was the first time Baekhyun didn’t break up the silence and it concerned you a bit. It seemed that the crowd in front of the boys’ house only got worse. This time there were angry fans holding posters calling you horrible names. Baekhyun tried his best to shield you from it but it was no use, you already saw it and there was no unseeing it. When you made it into the house you could finally breathe. You felt sorry for Chen and Xiu for causing such a hectic scene. Finding them a new house will definitely be on your to do list today. Now that you thought of it, today would be utter hell. Not only did you have to start working on finding a new house for them but you would have to face Junmyeon today. This past week has been successful in avoiding him but you knew him well enough to know that he would call you and Baekhyun to his office as soon as you stepped foot into the building.

Trying to take your mind off things Xiumin started a very intense conversation on whether or not water is wet. The two boys went back and forth arguing their points and you just sat back and let it all happen. The laughs that you let out were genuine. They always had a way to make light out of a situation.

Sooner rather than later, Baekhyun made his way down in a new outfit and wet hair. You don’t know if it was the inner girlfriend in you but you got up and made your way towards him and snatched the towel from his hands to dry his hair yourself. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t do it good.” It was amusing to ruffle his hair with the towel. He didn’t protest or try to argue against it, he just let you take care of him.

For a second you forgot the other two were in the same room as you guys. When you turned your head you saw their faces looking at the pair of you with a face that was quite similar to Sehun’s this morning when he saw you guys being too touchy. Your manager side kicked in and you told them to get their stuff and go out to the car already. You figured one car would suffice today.

Before you could leave Baekhyun to put away the towel, he pulled you into a soul sucking kiss. On instinct you kissed back but pulled away before it deepened. “If I didn’t say it today, good morning.”

#exo angst #junmyeon angst #junmyeon scenario #junmyeon x reader #suho angst #baekhyun angst #baekhyun x reader #exo fanfiction #suho scenario #suho x reader #exo fic

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imaginemycroftholmes · 7 years

Note

Could I request an imagine where Mycroft sees you kissing Lestrade the day he was going to ask you out, but it was actually for a dare.Mycroft goes to moping in his office,and Sherlock being Sherlock did this so he could prove to himself that Mycroft has feelings,but then realizes the mess his brother is and somehow tries to fix it.

Preparing for the flounce of a lifetime despite being drenched Sherlock is not prepared for the scene of his brother nursing a brandy (and from it looks of it more than a couple of glasses his mind supplies) this early in the afternoon.

Being surprised or wrong was something Sherlock wasn’t often the victim (John’s trick of having a sister notwithstanding) but to see his brother drinking away in his office like a spinster in the darken shade of his usual ‘wipe your shoes before you step in on this carpet Sherlock as its worth more than Baker Street and John;s salary combined’ when he should be in better spirits.

However it seems as though Mycroft had well gone past his limit with his drinking or was actively choosing to ignore him in favor of his computer screen.

Eyes glazed and red his brother is non-responsive to his presence only to have his right hand clutching the mouse and the other wrapped around his glass.

Sherlock can concede that he wasn’t the brightest Holmes in the family but since rooming with John he could tell what this was about. He’d seen it too many times with John when his girlfriends dumped him or was rejected with Lestrade at the local pub.

Deep down Sherlock knows that he should be more tactile about this like Molly or John would but he was never one for coddling.

Taking long strides to the desk Sherlock is quick to snatch bottle but not the glass from Mycroft’s grasp before proclaiming, “That’s enough of that. Honestly, why the hell are you doing this?”

His brother gives him a long suffering look before he drains the glass. “That much should be obvious for the ‘great’ Sherlock Holmes,” Mycroft grumbles, “now stop being a twat and relinquish my bottle.”

Despite his slur Mycroft is still quick forcing Sherlock to back off considerably. He just about falls out of his chair if not for the armrests keeping him boxed in against the desk.

“I will do no such thing but I’ll ask again-slowly- because you’re so caught up in some preconceived notion that the world conspires against you; why on earth are you doing this?”

Righting himself back on the chair Mycroft makes a rude noise with his mouth and scoffs. “You of all people should know why. You were there Sherlock with a front row seat.”

Granted Sherlock had but he had purposely left enough space for Mycroft to witness the exchange.

It was no secret to him that Mycroft had his eye on one of the officers in Lestrade’s division; a new hire after Sgt.Donovan had been relocated for her part in defaming his name.

The crush Mycroft harbored for her was odd as they had only met a handful of times during his escapades but not entirely unfounded.

She was pretty, she was fit, she had similar tastes in different facets and was (if not by Lestrade’s standards) very intelligent when it came to submitting evidence and theories in her reports.

All in all not a complete waste of space or a roadblock in his way to solving a case so it made her somewhat invaluable to Scotland Yard’s finest.

If anything could be gathered from those few interactions the officer in question did seem to be genuinely interested in his brother if body language and tone was anything to go by but then again it took him years to realize that he loved Molly so what did he know?

The point being is that he had to figure out if Mycroft felt anything for her and prove it with some harmless experiments.

Like everything it began small.

Pictures being thrown in with files, rerouting CCTV cameras, making offhand comments to both parties just to gauge a reaction.

For officer _____ it was painfully clear where she stood emotional wise concerning his brother to the point where Sherlock questioned her worth on the team if she could not achieve a proper poker face when given horrible news (to which he was promptly smacked by Molly and then yelled at by John when explaining his findings.)

As for reading Mycroft, that was an entirely different story. There were times that he seemed effected and others like he didn’t even give a damn.

“Gee, I wonder who that sounds like, “John had commented with heavy sarcasm when he had complained about it but Sherlock had ignored it in favor of a new way to test the waters.

The test was simple. Get the officer ____ to kiss someone else in front of his brother and watch for a response.

Now finding someone that would make Mycroft upset wasn’t a hardship.

Almost everyone would put him off, hell Sherlock would do it if it didn’t mean Molly would leave him but considering that most of the Yard consists of men it was a large pool to select from.

Implementing the plan was even easier as most people who do team heavy jobs usual enjoy doing stupid things to test their courage against their peers.

It had started simple: daring one another to eat things that had been licked or sit on someone’s lap or trading trousers for a shift. Stupid things but for the other officers fun to be had a relatively quiet night.

Mycroft had given Lestrade some insane excuse to come down to the station (Pub night my arse) meaning he would most likely be down before his shifts end.

Timing was everything and Sherlock was playing the part of puppeteer in order to get this right. Suggesting to masses that kissing their boss was the ultimate act of bravery just as Mycroft’s car was pulling up took finesse.

Out of the 22 officers crowding the room only three besides the one in question looked like they might take him up on the challenge but he only needed to goad her lightly on before she crashed her lips on Lestrade.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Mycroft’s face went from hopeful to crushed in seconds and his exit just as silent before either turned their heads around.

Sherlock had planned to follow him quickly but with all the rowdy officers daring him alike it took him a great deal of half promises to escape the building and hail a cab.

“Oh come off it brother mine-if you even tried to use that peanut brain of yours you would see that it was all a ruse by me to get under your skin,” Sherlock complains, “Honesty, if she had feelings for Lestrade of all people they would have been shagging months ago.”

Mycroft snaps. “She isn’t like that! I swear to God if you slander officer ____ again I will have you locked up,” he threatens but his fire dies down as his attention is brought to his computer screen again.

“She’s not one to sleep around with her superiors Sherlock and Gregory is a fine man. I have no doubts that even she is attracted to him on some level and cannot blame her,” Mycroft concedes before taking a sip out of the glass only annoyed to find it empty.

Giving a stink eye to Sherlock Mycroft demands once more, “Give me back the bottle.”

Sherlock scurries backward again when he sees that this time Mycroft might give chase. “I will do no such thing and you will sober up immediately.”

“I will not and you will unhand that bottle or I’ll call security to retrieve it for me,” Mycroft states darkly.

“As if.”

“Sherlock.”

“MAKE ME.”

The chase is hardly a dangerous one for Sherlock as it is for his brother running around the carpeted office.

Mycroft stumbles to catch up as Sherlock is effortless outmaneuvering him.

“Listen-” starts to say before missing a swipe of Mycroft’s hand.

“I say listen you caterwauling elephant,” he demands as he catches Mycroft caught between the fireplace and a chair, “if you keep this up you’ll look like a mess before officer _____ comes to see you.”

His face twists from anger to that of genuine confusion. “What now?”

“I swear alcohol does nothing but delete people’s remaining brain cells,” Sherlock mutters disdainfully before explaining again, “Officer ___ is coming over right now to confess to you as we speak. I told her what I had done to prove you have feelings for her and then she dumped the entire water cooler on my head before heading out to find you. Apparently Lestrade was more than happy to give her your office address and given how far her flat is from here should be coming up the hallway in ten minutes flat.”

Mycroft’s face shows a myriad of emotions.

Hope, happiness,fear, realization and anger.

Sherlock being more aware of this now is taking slow, calculated steps backwards toward the door.

“Now listen here brother mine, I only did this for your benefit,” he claims as Mycroft is torn between trying to fix his appearance and go after him.

“Only to entertain your curiosity you meddling little twat-”

“Only so you would realize you love her,” Sherlock interrupts again as he throws the bottle to the floor in hopes of distracting him to make an escape. He dashes out into the hallway with Mycroft shouting behind, “I already knew that I loved her you arse that’s why I was planning on asking ____ out today!”

“You really mean it?”

Even without looking back Sherlock knew that officer _____ must have finally caught up and knew better than to tarry.

After all she still had her gun and would rather not stick around to see if Mycroft would join her on a Sherlock shooting safari.

“Every word of it until the day I die.”

“So want to hunt down Sherlock and make him pay?”

“Undoubtedly.”

Sherlock sends a quick text out to Molly letting her know that he won’t be home tonight.

#asks #anon #mycroft x reader #sherlolly #bbc sherlock #mycroft prompt #mycroft holmes #mycroft imagine #police officer!reader #meddling!sherlock

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ganglylimbs · 7 years

Text

A Cup Of Sugar

Pairing: Gavin Free/Lindsay Tuggey/Michael Jones/Meg Turney

Summary: Gavin gets new neighbors. This is how his life changes.

Notes: So, I’m late again with another story for Mavinseg week. This one is a combination of 3 seducing 1 and Go Big or Go Home.

Warnings: Neighbor AU, abstract amount of time. It’s also the longest one sot I’ve written. 10,855 words

Edit: I forgot to say, if you would like to buy me a coffee, please do!

The neighborhood was a small one, quiet with neatly manicured lawns and white picket fences. It was close enough to the nearest city, and to the nearest community college, that getting groceries wasn’t too much of a trek but far enough away that the prices were reasonable cheap. Gavin was no social butterfly, but even he knew most of his neighbors. He knew Burnie and Geoff from down the street often have BBQ competitions during the summer. He knew their wives, Ashley and Griffin, put up with because they love them. He knew not to disturb his grumpy neighbor Gus during Saturday mornings, as he’s most likely to be recovering from a hangover. He was friends with the rowdy but strangely nice group of college boys who live across the street from him. Though the guy scared him and was a bit weird, Gavin was even on friendly terms with Haywood who lived three doors down and to the left of him.

And of course he was well aware when quiet, funny Ray Narvaez Jr., who had previously lived to the right of him, moved to another city to live with his girlfriend. It was practically the talk of the neighborhood for two weeks. Gavin, being the guy’s next door neighbor and sort of friend, got used to the coming and goings of cars as the realtor showed off the house. Two months later, when the talk had slowed down, as did the cars, Gavin had mostly forgotten about it.

Gavin had just gotten back from a long shoot, paying the cabbie and thinking of the nice hot bath he was going to take, when the sight of a moving truck parked in front of the house next to his made him pause. I guess they sold the house? Which Gavin thought was weird, considering he hadn’t heard anything about it, especially with the way the neighborhood loved to gossip.

Not wanting to be caught awkwardly staring, Gavin finished paying the cabbie and quickly walked into his own house. Once the door was closed, he briefly thought about what he should do now. It was customary that he introduced himself, right? That was the social norm? So should he go over and say hi? Gavin didn’t really see the point in that and besides, it would require him to bring something (he can’t cook and after his disastrous try at meeting new people by bringing wine to the surprising-nonalcoholic Ryan, he was warily of trying that route again). So...maybe not.

What if they wanted to come over here and introduce themselves? Gavin looked around. His house was neat enough (?) and Gavin was great at faking small talk. But the thought of new people coming into his space slightly frightened him and Gavin found himself hoping it didn’t come to that.

So his best course of action was to meet them at the next block party, where they could be distracted by other people and no expectations would be placed on him. Nodding to himself for coming up with such an excellent plan, Gavin went to start that bath.

Of course, Gavin should have taken in the fact that it was spring and while they lived in a fairly warm place, Geoff and Burnie usually waited till they were sure that the cold weather wouldn’t come back before bringing out their pits.

So it wasn’t till a month later, when Gavin heard a knock on his door, that he realized he had no idea who this strange woman was on his doorstep.

“Hi there!” Gavin had to admit, she was cute. Shorter than him, and plumper, with bubble gum pink hair, she seemed to shine with happiness. Her smile was wide, her eyes bright, and Gavin couldn’t help smiling back at her.

“Hi?” Gavin asked, hyper aware that he was still in his shirt that he slept in last night and the hastily put on pajama bottoms.

She stared at him for a second before blinking. “Oh. Sorry. I guess I should introduce myself. Lindsay Tuggy, I recently moved next door.”

Gavin shook her outstretched hand, purely out of instinct. He was a bit shocked that this was his next door neighbor. If he had known that he may have gone over sooner-yeah no. No he wouldn’t have. “Gavin Free.”

“Nice to meet you.” There was that bright smile again and Gavin could feel his face getting hot. “I know we’ve never met before and I’m sorry if I’m bothering you and how awfully cliche this is, but could I borrow a cup of sugar?”

Gavin was a little taken aback. “Oh, um. Sure? Sure. I could go get it...or do you want to come inside? I have some tea I made up. It’s probably not hot but I could heat it up again. Or maybe some water-do you drink water? I don’t have a lot of other drinks-”

“Water is fine.” Lindsay broke in, chuckling a little.

Gavin smiled back at her, relaxing, and let her in. “Ok.”

Lindsay followed him into the kitchen. Gavin noticed her looking around as he got her a cup, fiddling with it for a few seconds as he tried to think of a topic. Small talk. He could do this. “So...you recently moved here? From where?”

“Oh from uptown Austin. Finally decided it was time to move in with my partners, to our very first house.”

“That sounds nice.” Gavin handed her the water. “What’s your partner’s name?”

“Partners. Meg Turney and Michael Jones, the loves of my life.” She beamed again and Gavin caught the dreamy look in her eyes.

He couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed that such a cute and nice girl was taken by not one, but two people, but quickly shook that off. “You sound really fond of them.” He noted.

Lindsay nodded. “I’m serious when I say I’ll probably spend the rest of my life with them.”

“Wow, I’m a bit shocked. But happy for you!” He quickly added on. “I can’t imagine finding someone to live with me, not to mention two people.”

“Oh, you can’t be that bad.” Lindsay teased.

“That’s because you’ve only known me for five minutes.” Gavin pointed out. “Trust me, I’m terrible. Can hardly take care of myself.”

“Sounds just like me! I’m so lucky I met Michael and Meg. I probably wouldn’t have made it this long without them. I’d burn water and I tend to throw my clothes everywhere. Michael threatened to break up with me the next time he trips over my shoes.”

“I’m horrible at making food too.” Gavin replied. “The last time I tried to make food for myself, I nearly burnt my kitchen down.”

“I almost did that too. Thank God for take out, right?”

“Absolutely. Gets a bit expensive though.” Gavin laminated.

“Well, maybe I’ll bring you some of Michael’s food. He’s great at feeding me. And Meg is fabulous at baking sweets. Which reminds me.” Lindsay looked over Gavin’s shoulder, at the clock on the microwave. “I should probably get back with that sugar.”

Gavin quickly straightened up. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you.”

Lindsay flapped her hand at him. “Don’t worry about it. Meg can wait a few minutes.”

They were walking back to the door, saying their goodbyes, when Lindsay caught sight of Gavin’s cat slinking around.

Lindsay immediately stopped, squealing. “You have a cat?”

“Yeah. His name is Smee.” Gavin looked over to where Smee was giving them an unimpressed look, sat atop Gavin’s couch like a King on his throne. “I’m guessing you like cats?”

“I fucking love cats. Unfortunately, Michael hates them and refuses to let us get one. We do have a dog, but that’s because Meg had Penny before we started dating her.” Lindsay had already set her plastic tub of sugar down and was quietly calling to the cat with little kissing sounds.

“Woof. That sucks.” Gavin said as he watched her, instantly feeling sympathy. His old apartment hadn’t allowed pets. It had been freeing, to buy his own house and get Smee. Less lonely too. “I love Smee, though he can be a little minge pot at times.”

“Minge pot?” Lindsay questioned, smirking up at him.

“It’s a word.” Gavin defended. “And Smee is the mingest cat. He sometimes gets grumpy and swipes at me. Or wakes me up at three am because he went mental.”

“Sounds like the cats I grew up with.” Lindsay gave up on trying to call Smee over to her. Gavin blames the way her mouth briefly turns down into a pout for the next words that come out of his mouth.

“You can come over some other time?” He offered. She tilted her head at him and Gavin looked away. “If you want to, that is, and play with Smee a bit. He’s usually more relaxed and willing in the morning, after being fed.”

Lindsay was silent for a brief second before breaking out into that sunny smile that Gavin’s was starting to associate with her. “That’s sounds awesome. Michael will certainly be grateful anyways.”

Gavin waved goodbye to Lindsay from his doorway, a piece of paper in hand with a date for when Lindsay would next come over. As soon as he shut the door, Gavin felt some panic starting to set in.

What had he done?

Flowers had started to bud as spring set in and Lindsay had visited him four more times. Most of the time, it was to play with Smee and lightly talk with Gavin (those visits usually lasted no more than ten minutes) but she also had a habit of coming over to borrow something from him.

Mostly sugar.

“I’m starting to suspect you're taking advantage of me.” Gavin brought up one day as he handed her a full cup (neatly labeled Lindsay because if they were going to do this, Gavin was going all out).

“Would I do that? Me?” Lindsay fluttered her eyelashes at him. Gavin gave her a look and she laughed. “Ok, so maybe I’m being a little lazy. But at least it gives me an excuse to come talk to you.”

“You don’t need to make up an excuse.” Though Gavin was flattered she wanted to. He had half-thought that he had scared her away with his extensive talk of cameras and editing when they had talked about their jobs one day (though Gavin had to admit, she almost had him running for the hills when she casually mentioned she worked for a big name company. As the bloody CEO).

But she had stayed. And listened. And asked questions. And wasn’t that strange? Gavin wasn’t used to people being interested in his work. Yeah the people he worked for, and Dan, and his parents were, all to different degrees. But the people around here? The second Gavin dived into anything more than “I film slow motion”, people had a habit of tuning out.

Lindsay didn’t and Gavin was grateful for that.

So no, Gavin was more than ok with Lindsay popping up now and again. Dare he say, even looking forward to it.

Lindsay shows up for sugar and Gavin provides it without argument.

There’s a knock on Gavin’s door and Gavin eagerly opened it. Because either it’s a package from his company or Lindsay and Gavin was looking forward to both.

Instead, what he was met with was the sight of a grumpy looking guy, with freckles and glasses and short boyish hair and Gavin could feel his heart thumping loudly. It was like meeting Lindsay for the first time all over again, only with less blinding smiles.

“Are you Gavin Free?” The man asked. Or, well demanded.

Gavin could feel his shoulders hunching, mind racing to think about who he had pissed off. His company was happy with his latest video, he had cleared up that thing with his ex months ago, and Dan hadn’t inappropriately hit on anyone for a while. Nothing coming to mind, Gavin hesitantly nodded. “Yeah?”

If possible, the man’s frown deepened. “This is so fucking stupid.” He muttered before straightening. Gavin could only blink at him in confusion before the man continued. “My name is Michael Jones and I’m here to borrow a cup of sugar.” He paused before, almost reluctantly adding. “And some cold medicine, if you have any?”

Michael Jones? That name sound familiar-wait, cup of sugar? “Are you Lindsay’s boyfriend?” Gavin asked, eyebrows raising.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Has that idiot never mentioned us before? Yeah, I’m her boyfriend. Can I get that medicine?And sugar, I guess?”

Gavin licked his dry lips before letting Michael in and leading him to his kitchen. “Lindsay mentioned you. I just, uh, wanted to confirm? I guess.” He gave Michael the sugar before heading to the cabinet above his kitchen counter, rooting around for any left over cold medicine he may have had. “Did she send you over? Is she ok?”

“Yeah.” Michael’s voice was coming to the right of him. “Fucking idiot got herself sick and now I have to take care of her. Why she wants the sugar, I don’t fucking know. We have sugar at home.”

“You do?” Gavin looked over at him. Michael nodded. “Well she usually comes over to borrow some from me. I guess it’s more of an inside joke. She probably knew I wouldn’t remember her saying your name and so used that as a way to make sure I know she’s with you.”

“That or she’s a fucking idiot.”

Gavin frowned at those words. That was the third time he said that. It was hard imagining Lindsay, sunny Lindsay, with someone like Michael Jones. Even now, whenever Gavin glanced at the man, he was scowling at the room. Gavin hurried his search, wanting to end this meeting and becoming increasingly uncomfortable by the silence. He’d might have to ask about their relationship the next time Lindsay came to visit.

“So I only have a little of the off brand. It’s not much but I hope that it’ll do for now-” Gavin turned around and cut himself off as he tried to understand what he was seeing.

Michael was lightly petting Smee. He was still frowning but Smee seemed pretty happy enough for the both of them. Michael looked up to see Gavin staring at him. “What?”

Gavin shook himself. “Sorry, sorry. Just surprised, is all.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Surprised I’m petting your cat?”

Gavin shrugged, giving the man a small smile and hoping that it would calm Michael down. “Lindsay had mentioned that you didn’t care for cats?”

Michael stared at him. Then he slowly shook his head. “Of course she did.” He took the medicine and the sugar and headed for the door. Gavin followed, worried that he messed up.

As soon as they reached it, Michael spoke again. “I don’t hate cats.”

“What?”

Michael looked back at Gavin, still frowning but there was something...sad (???) about it. “I don’t hate cats. Lindsay likes to joke that I do. Sure, I’m a dog person. But I don’t hate cats. I just know we don’t have enough time to take care of one and I refuse to get a pet and treat it like a toy. Lindsay understands that. But she still wants one, one day.” His mouth twisted up at that, a small smile and his eyes seemed to sparkle a little, like he was remembering something funny.

Gavin was having a little mood whiplash. Michael had, honestly, seemed a little hateful. Unpleasant. But what he was saying was making sense and Gavin gained a little respect for him. Plus, the way he said Lindsay’s name, like something sweet he couldn’t get out of his mouth and didn’t want to, had Gavin thinking maybe he had judge Michael too quick.

But just as he was thinking that, Michael’s smile disappeared. “Thanks for the medicine. And the sugar.”

“Ah...you’re welcome.”

With a nod, Michael left. And Gavin was left standing there, thoroughly confused about what had just happened.

Three days later and Lindsay was back at his house. The first thing she said when he opened the door was “I’m sorry about Michael.”

Gavin turned to the side to let her in. “Hey Lindsay, how are you feeling? Your voice sounds a little rough.”

Lindsay sniffed at him. Her nose looked red and her hair was messy but her eyes were as clear as ever. “What? Yeah I’m fine. I just came to apologize for Michael.”

“Why? Did he say something?” Gavin asked as he lead Lindsay to the kitchen so he could pour her a glass of water.

“No, he didn’t. I know because he’s Michael.” Lindsay said it like that explained it. And maybe it did but what Gavin wasn’t sure. Instead he motioned for Lindsay to continue. “And because it’s Michael, I know the asshole acted like, well, an asshole. I wanted to apologize for it.”

“He was pretty...intense.” Gavin agreed.

Lindsay sighed before sitting down in one of the chairs, sipping at her drink. “Yeah, he can be. But honestly, it’s just because he was worried.”

“He seemed annoyed at me.” Gavin said, sitting down across from Lindsay.

“Like I said, worried. I was pretty sick but because I was suddenly busy at work, I didn’t really pay too close attention to what my body was trying to tell me. I woke up Tuesday dizzy and ready to vomit. Meg is out of town but luckily Michael was there. And Michael can get pretty protective when one of us gets hurt in any way so you can see where this is headed. He’s annoyed I didn’t take better care of myself, annoyed we don’t have any medicine, and annoyed that he has to ask for help.”

“Oh.” Gavin said, relieved as he slumped in his chair. “I thought he hated me.” Gavin had been so worried that he had done something to upset Michael. Worried that he had somehow ruined the friendship he had with Lindsay because her partner hated him.

“What?” Lindsay sputtered. “No, no. He doesn’t hate you. He thinks you’re cute actually-”

“What?” Gavin sat up.

“And if anything, he’s upset with me for making him look foolish in front of a pretty boy.”

Gavin was RED. He knew it, could feel the heat in his cheeks.

Lindsay smiled at him and if Gavin didn’t know any better, he would say that the smile was a bit devilish. “What?” Her voice was innocent. “That’s what Michael was most annoyed by, the fact that I told him he needed to ask for a cup of sugar. You wouldn’t believe the fit he threw. I had to argue with him for like, ten minutes. While I was sick.”

“Why?” Gavin moaned. He was a second away from dropping his head into his hand.

Lindsay shrugged, unbothered. “Because I thought it would be funny.” Gavin gave her a look. There was that smile again. “I had to entertain myself somehow.”

“You’re an arsehole.” Gavin grumbled.

“Yes, but I’m an asshole who got a good laugh when Michael slammed open the door, ranting about how silly he looked, standing on your doorstep, asking for a cup of sugar.” Lindsay leaned in, voice dropping down to a half-whisper, like she was sharing some big secret. “You know what he told me?”

Gavin was sure whatever Lindsay was going to say would make him blush again, but he leaned in.

“He told me that he felt like he was in some black and white film, like a suitor showing up on the doorstep asking for the hand of a delicate Southern Belle.”

And yep, there goes his cheeks. “He did not!” Not only couldn’t Gavin see the man he met yesterday saying those words, he wasn’t so sure if his poor brain could take it.

“Well, ok. Maybe not. But he did say he felt like some asshole from the 1950’s by doing that.” Lindsay was laughing. The cheerful sound was broken up by horrible coughing. Gavin sat there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do as he let it pass over.

“Are you alright?” He finally asked.

Lindsay nodded, taking in large gulps of her drink. “Yeah, I’m good. But I should probably go now, before Michael comes home. I promised I would stay in bed all day, no matter how boring it is.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Gavin gave her a little grin.

“Thanks.”

Before she left, Lindsay turned back towards Gavin, biting her lip. “I...I came over here to today because I wanted to let you know that Michael really is a sweet guy. Really. He’s romantic and fun to be around and. Well, I love him. And I know he didn’t leave you with the best impression. But he’s my partner and we’re friends and I...want you guys to get along.”

Gavin thought about the way Michael petted Smee, carefully, and the passionate response to why he didn’t want pets. “He certainly scared me, but if Smee likes him than he can’t be too bad right?”

Lindsay’s eyes went wide but she was smiling again. “He actually pet Smee?”

“And Smee let him.” Gavin eagerly agreed.

“He wouldn’t pet our old neighbor’s cat no matter how much Meg and I cooed over it!” Lindsay said, faux offended. “I can’t wait till he comes home to make fun of him for this one.”

To say his feelings surrounding Michael was confusing would be an understatement. When meeting with rude assholes or people that made him feel uncomfortable, Gavin’s stance on them usually didn’t change. But Lindsay seemed to be determined to make sure that they got along.

The next time she came over to chat, she brought along Michael.

It was awkward. Michael still scowled the entire time and Gavin remained fidgety. Lindsay was the only one who really talked, chatting excitedly about some big thing her company was going to do. Gavin tried his best to listen, but couldn’t get past the feeling of Michael’s eyes glaring at him. As they were starting to leave though, Michael caught sight of Gavin’s gaming system and they ended up staying an extra ten minutes, talking about favorite games and what new releases they were looking forward to.

The next time they come over, Gavin is out of town. This prompts Lindsay to ask for his phone number so they could text. Gavin doesn’t feel nervous when he hands it over.

Lindsay and Gavin send cat memes to each other. Michael asks that he not help fuel Lindsay’s cat obsession. Gavin starts sending pictures of Smee instead.

About the third time the two come over, it was unexpected and Gavin was slightly embarrassed by the pile of takeout he had yet to throw away. Michael took one look at it and then exploded. Started going into a tirade that embarrassed both Gavin and Lindsay. Then he left, leaving Lindsay to apologize. He reappeared twenty minutes later with home made food. Gavin took one bite and instantly forgave him.

It became, like, a thing between them. Lindsay would come over to pet Smee and Michael would feed Gavin some home made food. In between bites, they talked and Gavin grew to like the other man. Lindsay was right, he was really sweet. When you got pass the foul language and angry scowls that is.

Around the sixth time they came over, they brought another woman. She was beautiful, enough to make Gavin tongue tied. She had long purple hair and glasses, her makeup was spot on. She was thin looking, dressed in running gear. Michael introduced her as Meg. Gavin could only nod as his mouth had turned dry.

“So this is the guy you two have been sneaking off too.” Meg said, smile wide.

Gavin sputtered causing Meg to chuckle.

“We have not been ‘sneaking’ over here.” Lindsay admonish, but she was smiling too. “We told you where we were going. You were just too lazy to join us.”

“If by lazy, you mean incredibly busy than yeah. I was totally lazy.” Meg rolled her eyes.

“What do you do?” Gavin finally blurted out, having scrambled his brains back together in order to form a sentence.

“I’m a cosplayer.” Meg said. “I make all my own cosplay and have a Pateron going. I also make Youtube videos.”

“Wow, what do you cosplay?” Gavin asked. He never had the time or patience to cosplay himself, but he loved to look at what others did.

“Mostly video games. The last shoot I did was as Tracer from Overwatch.”

“Oh nice. Do you play?”

“Only occasionally. I usually play indie games instead. And Mario Kart!”

“I don’t think I’ve played Mario Kart since I was a teenager.” Gavin mused. He blinked as the three of them looked at him in shock. “What?”

“You haven’t played Mario Kart in how long?” Meg asked, sounding slightly offended.

“Um...I guess like, eight years?” Gavin said, confused.

“Lindsay.” Meg said.

“On it.” Lindsay replied, already heading towards the door.

“What?” Gavin asked.

“I’m going too. We’ll need snacks and I know he won’t have any.” Michael butted in, already following Lindsay.

“What?” Gavin asked again.

Meg laughed and grabbed him, dragging him deeper into his own home, towards the living room. “We are going to play Mario Kart. You get the added bonus of watching me kick everyone’s ass in it.”

Gavin could only grin as they began setting up his game station. Lindsay returned with the game and Michael with the promised snacks. Gavin thoroughly got his ass kicked by Meg but he wasn’t always last and delighted in the angry shouts Michael and Lindsay let out whenever they got screwed.

Mario Kart turned to beers and horrible movies and Gavin could honestly say he has never had so much fun in all of his life.

With the weather getting nicer, the Ramsey’s and Burn’s started their cookouts. Gavin of course was invited as was Michael, Meg, and Lindsay. The first one they attended, the neighborhood swamped around them, wanting to get as much information as they could. Gavin stayed a little away from the circle, knowing how tough it can be to be hounded with questions.

But after a few minutes, Meg had weaseled away to find and chat up Gavin.

“It’s good to see you.” She said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you anywhere but at your house.”

Gavin smiled. “I’m very...reclusive. I usually don’t have time to go outside and enjoy myself.”

“Shame. Michael has commented a few times about how your backyard would look lovely with a few flowers.”

“Michael likes to garden?”

“More like he likes to the act of being productive. He likes planting and pruning and watering. Don’t know if he actually likes the flowers. They do make a good background for photos though.”

“He really seems to like to work with his hands huh?” Gavin observed, looking over at where Michael and Lindsay were busy entertaining everyone. He noticed that Michael seemed to be hitting it off well with everyone. Lindsay was too, but he expect that of her.

Michael had a really nice smile. It showed off his dimples.

“Oh, I can assure you. He loves working with his hands.” Meg’s wink was raunchy.

It took real effort from Gavin to not spit out his drink. “That’s, uh. Good to know?”

Meg chuckled, taking a sip of her own drink. “By the way. What do you do for a living?”

Gavin, almost shyly, told her all about his work with slow motion. Meg asked question after question after question and Gavin found himself relaxing into a conversation with her. He told her all about him coming over to England at the recommendation of his mentor and setting up his business. That lead into a conversation about England and, after finding out about her stints in other states, California.

Gavin found himself really liking Meg. She could make him laugh about anything.

This continued for the next few barbecues. Everyone would gather around the newcomers, Meg would somehow slip away and find Gavin, and the two would engage in conversation before someone noticed them. Eventually, everyone got bored of questioning Lindsay and Michael, and the next time they came to a block party, they were left alone.

For some reason, they always chose to hang out with Gavin. Gavin would be talking to Geoff about something and they would pop up and immerse themselves in the conversation. Gavin ended up introducing them further to people, including Ryan (Gavin pushed down the feelings of jealousy-and what was that about-at the way Ryan and Meg got along so quickly) and Jeremy and Trevor and Matt and the rest of the college boys. That lead to Gavin finding one of Michael’s weakness-the man couldn’t say no to a bet.

Later, Gavin would have to apologize to Burnie for the chaos that followed.

Summer was always a busy time for Gavin (well, every season was busy, Gavin was always busy but particularly in the summer). Summers in Texas always produced good weather, especially the light Gavin needed to film. As long as he drank enough water and wore sunblock, Gavin filmed as long as he could.

As such, his visits with his next door neighbors went down. He still texted them (Meg had given her own number to Gavin, with much blushing on Gavin’s side, and Michael soon followed saying he might as well) but he sorely missed their face to face chats.

Also, Dan came to visit.

Gavin ran his business as sort of a one-man band. He filmed, he edited, he dealt with demanding producers, he created the website, and he owned the camera. Gavin did everything himself. Expect during the summer, when his workload picked up.

Dan wasn’t as experienced as Gavin was with camerawork, but he had helped Gavin when the Brit first started up his business. After awhile though, Dan had to go back home to England to take care of his grandparents, leaving the business to Gavin. But Dan was welcomed back anytime he wished. The problem was, Dan didn’t want to live in America and give up his house back in England and Dan wasn’t entirely set on being a cameraman either.

So the two came to an agreement. Whenever summer came around and Gavin got a little overwhelmed, Dan would come live with him till work slowed down. Then Dan would go back to England until next summer.

Gavin welcomed Dan into his house one fine May day. While Dan started to put his stuff away, Gavin called the company he would be working with tomorrow to tell them he was bringing an extra guy.

While he was negotiating prices with the man, Gavin heard a knock on his door. He put the guy on hold and opened the door to find Meg standing there, looking pristine and with a polite smile on her face. Surprised, he let her in and told her he had to finish a phone call first. Meg just nodded and Gavin went about his business.

A few minutes late, Gavin finished the call and walked into his kitchen to find Dan and Meg staring at each other.

“Meg, good to see you.” Gavin grinned, walking forward to give her a hug. Meg hugged back, a little tighter than Gavin was used to. “I’ve see you met Dan.”

“Yes.”

“He’s my best bet mate from England. He’s here to help me with work.” Gavin explained.

“Oh really?”

“Yes?” Gavin said. Something about Meg seemed...off. Meg was usually warm and friendly, at least to Gavin. It was weird to see her acting cold. “Is everything alright? Oh wait, you want a cup of sugar right?”

Dan snorted behind him.

“What?” Gavin questioned, turning to see his friend smirking.

“Nothing.” Dan replied, innocently.

“It sort of sounded like you were going to kiss me.” Meg jumped in, but she was smiling now. She winked at Gavin. “I wouldn’t mind getting some sugar from you.”

Gavin stammered as his brain disconnected. Meg shared a look with Dan before the two bust out laughing. After that, Meg seemed to warm up to Dan rather quickly as the three talked.

When Meg left, Gavin commented about Meg’s weirdness. Dan smiled at Gavin. “Looks like you got yourself a possessive bird there, Gav.”

Gavin gave him a look but didn’t commented. Probably just Dan pulling his leg again.

Expect Meg started visiting more often. Their visits were usually one every few days. Now it was like she found a reason to show up at Gavin’s house everyday. When Gavin asked, Meg just shrugged and said that Michael and Lindsay were out of town for a convention and she was lonely. It didn’t sound like a lie...but Gavin didn’t think it was the whole truth either.

Even when Michael and Lindsay came back, they just followed Meg to Gavin’s house. Gavin actually didn’t mind it, even with how busy he was, but it was weird. Lindsay was constantly touching him and Michael glared at Dan the entire time (more than usual, that is). Meg was the one to introduce them to Dan and Gavin didn’t know if he was imagining the way she put an emphasize on “friend”.

Dan took everything in stride, with an annoying little smirk. Like he knew something Gavin didn’t.

Gavin and Dan had just returned from a job out in California when Gavin got a text from Meg.

You want to have dinner with us tonight?

“Meg just asked us to have dinner with them.” Gavin told Dan, showing him the text.

Dan shook his head. “No. She asked you to dinner.”

“What?”

“Sounds like you’ve got a date, Gavin.”

“What?”

Dan’s smirk was slow to spread across his face. “B. I think she’s asking you out on a date.”

Gavin stood there blinking at him. “What?” He finally whispered.

“Gavin, they like you.”

“They do not.”

“They do. You should have seen the way they were all over you when they thought I was your boyfriend.” Dan continued to tease him.

“They weren’t.” Gavin knew his voice was getting a bit high. Dan just laughed at him and Gavin slapped Dan’s shoulder. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not making fun. I’m telling you the truth. They like you and Meg just asked you on a date.” Dan said, matter-o-factly.

Gavin stared at his phone. “Do you really think so?”

“I do.” Dan gave Gavin a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Wear that dark blue shirt of yours, makes your eyes pop.”

“Dan.”

Gavin is not sure what to expect when he goes over to the Jones-Tuggy-Turney house. He flipped and flopped over if this was a date or not. Had stared into his mirror, wondering if he was overdoing it with the shirt. He had an intense debate about whether to bring flowers or not.

Instead he brought a cup of sugar.

When Meg answered the door, she burst out laughing. Gavin could feel his cheeks burning (why, why did they always make him blush). “I...I hope this is ok?” He asked, holding out the cup. His eyes roamed over Meg. She wore a white, off the shoulders shirt, that ended out in a ruffle with black tights that hugged her calves. She looked good and Gavin was grateful that he decided to go dressy today. He supposed he should thank Dan later.

“It’s fucking perfect. Come on in.” Meg took the cup, leading Gavin further inside.

Gavin looked around. It suddenly struck him that, with the amount of time the three of them visited his house, he had never visited theirs.

It was nice. They clearly put some love into decorating the place. Pictures of the three of them decorated the walls, there were flowers in a couple of vases setting on top of tables (Gavin asked if they were Michael’s-Meg said yes), and an old clock sat in the corner. It sort of made Gavin’s house look bare.

Lindsay met them in the hallway, handing both Gavin and Meg a glass of wine. “You look good.” She said, looking him up and down.

“You do to.” Gavin replied, returning the favor. Lindsay had on a long-sleeve black sweater with a short pale skirt. Her black heels clicked against the wooden floors.

They made small talk for a bit, Gavin even met Meg’s little weiner dog Penny, before moving into the dining room, which was connected to the kitchen, the only thing separating them was a counter. In the kitchen, Michael was cooking. He looked over his shoulder at them and smiled. Gavin liked having those dimples aimed at him. Michael looked just as cute as the girls. He had on soft looking jeans and a light blue shirt, covered by a long brown jacket. His curly hair was covered by a brown beanie.

“I hope you like steaks? I figured I couldn’t go wrong with a steak.”

“I bloody love them.” Gavin reassured.

“Great, how do you want it cooked?”

“Medium, please.”

“Do you want to sit down?” Lindsay asked. “You look a bit tired?”

“I just got back from a shoot. Two days with very little sleep and I have to head out again Friday.”

Meg made a sound of sympathy. “I know that feeling. Back to back flights? It’s horrible.”

“Especially if you get the middle seat. The last time I had a middle seat, it was an absolute nightmare.”

“Tell me about it. One time I had a guy lean his head on my shoulder, using me as a pillow.”

“No.” Gavin said, aghast.

“And then he started reading my texts!”

“No!”

“Ok, you two. We don’t need to be discussing flying at the dinner table.” Lindsay said.

“Yeah, we hear Meg bitching about it enough. We don’t need two of you doing it.”

“Aw, but Michael.” Gavin said.

Michael pointed his finger at him, grinning. “Don’t you Micoo me.”

“But it’s cute the way he says your name.” Lindsay chimed in.

Gavin ducked his head and quickly steered the conversation to what they had been up to that week. Meg told him about the cosplaying she’s building, Michael complained about this shitty electrical job that he had to do, and Lindsay told him her company was thinking of buying their competitor. Gavin listened, amused by the way they told their stories and the way Michael exaggerated, hands flying all over the place.

The food was served, along with more wine and water. Gavin eagerly dug into his food, openingly moaning. “This is as good as always.”

“I’m glad you like it so much.” Michael looked far too pleased with himself.

“Hey, I made the potatoes.” Lindsay piped up. “Took me all day to peal too.”

“No you didn’t.” Meg said. She stabbed her fork at Lindsay. “This are instant.”

“Michael would never let us eat instant.” Lindsay said, sticking her nose in the air.

“I would if someone forgot to actually pick up potatoes and then had to go to the store thirty minutes before Gavin arrived.”

Lindsay pouted.

Gavin was grinning like a loon. He pointedly took a bite of the potatoes. “This taste delicious too, Lindsay.”

Lindsay stuck her tongue out at the other two.

Meg rolled her eyes before asking Gavin about his plans to attend the party the college boys were throwing. “The whole neighborhood is invited.”

Gavin shrugged as casually as he could. “I’m not good with parties, but if you guys go I will.”

That seemed to greatly please Meg.

The rest of the night went much the same. They swapped stories about their childhood and experiences in life, asked about parents and other relatives, touched on their dreams for the future, and even got into an argument about the way Gavin pronounced his words.

It felt comfortable and familiar.

Gavin helped them clean up, even going so far as to offer to help clean dishes, and all three walked him to the door. Gavin bit his lip before asking the question that had been on his mind for the whole night. “So...this was a date right?”

Meg’s smile was wide and soft. “Of course it was.”

Michael snorted. “You idiot. Yes.”

Lindsay giggled. “If you want it to be. I mean, I was hoping it was a date considering how much I like you and all.”

“Really?” Gavin asked, hopeful.

“Oh man, you should have seen these two.” Meg broke in. “They wouldn’t shut up about the cute neighbor with the amazing accent who I just had to meet. Lindsay practically threw away all our sugar at first so she could go over to talk to you-”

“I told you didn’t have to do that, Lindsay.” Gavin interrupted. Lindsay just shrugged.

“And Michael was an anxious mess for those first day, worried he had lost his chance.”

“As if you’re any better.” Michael pointed out. “The second you met him, you told us how much you wanted to ruin him.”

Meg wiggled her eyebrows at Gavin. “Oh I definitely did. And still want too.”

Gavin just shook his head. “So this was a date then.”

“Yep.” They all agreed.

Then they kissed him.

Meg’s kiss was hot. She clearly knew what she was doing as she pulled him closer to her, manhandling him into the perfect position so she could slot her lips against his.

Michael’s was passionate. His hold was tight against Gavin’s shirt, his lips aggressive as they clashed with Gavin’s.

Lindsay’s was sweet. She wiped off a bit of Meg’s lipstick from his mouth before pulling him in. Her’s was shorter than the rest, but she left Gavin with a nip on his bottom lip.

Gavin was dazed as they all smirked at him. “So...a date next week?”

“Date next week. But you’re planning it.”

They continued to visit him, but now the visits had a lot more making out included in them. Lindsay would peck him on the check before crouching to scratch Smee. Michael would demand a kiss in exchange for his food. Meg would pull him into a kiss as soon as they saw each other.

Gavin noticed that they were very generous too. Meg brought flowers as often as she could and Michael made a comment about decorating Gavin’s backyard. Lindsay would look online for objects that he commonly needed in his field and order them for him (even if it wasn’t a part Gavin needed, he still kept it, grateful that she bought it thinking of him). Michael brought over games they could play together and the two often shared their games’ library.

Dan had been right in calling them possessive. They would lay their arms across his shoulders and waist, would sit or lean close to him, had even sat in his lap a few times. The first time Meg did this at one of Geoff’s parties, Gavin had to hide his face in her neck at the teasing he got. Meg had no shame, of course, and neither did the others. They kept up their physical contact. Gavin didn’t mind as much as he complained he did.

Gavin also noticed how much more he was going to their house now. It just seemed easier, with all of them living there. Even if it was arriving at their house so that they could go somewhere else. Gavin started to think of the place as his second home. Slowly, little by little, he started leaving his things there. Some socks, a book, his controller-even his phone once.

He startled himself one day upon finding an extra toothbrush for him in their bathroom. And after they started having sex, he left an extra pair of clothes and pajamas in their room.

Sometimes, when Gavin slept in his own bed in his own house, he thought about what it would be like to live there full time. To always wake up looking at Michael, curled around Lindsay with Meg at his back. What it would be like to add his things into the mixture, his hair gel mixed in with their makeup and his coffee cup sat next to theirs. He would close his eyes and imagine adding new pictures to their walls, ones including him.

Of course that was all his imagination as they had only been together for a couple of months. It was too early to be thinking of living with them. Don’t let yourself sink too deep, Free. He scolded himself. You don’t want to mess this up.

After all, they hadn’t even mentioned anything to do with moving in together. And Gavin sure wasn’t going to be the one to ask.

Fall came and went in it’s usual whirlwind of gold and red. Dan went home, a neighborhood wide prank war started by Jeremy was ended by Ryan, and Gavin was still dating his neighbors. Halloween came by and Gavin spent most of it swallowing his tongue at the sight of their costumes. Gavin felt a bit stupid next to them in his store bought wizard hat and long black cloak over a pair of jeans and shirt. Michael at least wasn’t as glamorous in his black cat costume but it fit him really, really well. Gavin could see every muscle Michael has, every curve and dip, as the black velvet clung to his body. A long black tail swung from his backside and on his head were two cat ears.

Lindsay had dressed as a Slytherin. She had the green scarf and wand she actually got from Universal Studios. She even wore the nerdy looking glasses. Gavin had to admit, her gray sweater looked really warm. Though he doubted she was as comfortable as she assured him she was with the short, short skirt she was wearing.

Meg absolutely stole the show though, with her Lara Croft outfit. Tight, brown short shorts with a cut off shirt that that showed off her stomach. Strapped to her thighs were realistic looking holsters. Meg showed them to Gavin earlier, explaining all the work she did to make sure they didn’t pinch into her skin. Gavin tried them out for himself. They were really comfortable. Her hair was pulled into a braid and black makeup was smudged along her skin and clothes to look like dirt. She looked perfect.

Geoff made fun of him for the amount of times he almost ran into a wall while looking at them.

Halloween passed and then it was November. Which meant Thanksgiving.

“Are you sure you can’t go?” Lindsay asked him again.

Gavin watched as her and Michael walked around packing their bags. They were going to New Jersey to visit Michael’s parents and planned to stay from Wednesday to Sunday. Meg was out of town for a convention and wouldn’t be able to make it. Gavin had politely declined, stating that he too would be out of town for a shoot.

Gavin shook his head, uncomfortably aware that he was sitting on their bed, surrounded by their stuff. “I couldn’t get out of this one.”

“What asshole makes people work through Thanksgiving?” Michael grumbled.

“He’s a very...particular client. Everything has to be done by a certain timeline.” Gavin gave them a sheepish smile.

“Well, we’re going to miss you.” Lindsay told him, giving him a swift kiss.

Gavin helped them into their cab and waved at them from his doorway, watching as they drove away.

Thanksgiving Day saw Gavin sitting on his couch, watching the parade. “I don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving.” Gavin told Smee, the cat laying next to him in order to receive pets.

Smee gave him an unimpressed look.

Gavin frowned back. “It’s too soon to meet their parents anyway. We’ve only been dating for...five months? Way too soon.”

Smee licked his paw.

“Besides, the two should have their time together. Alone. I’ve been coming over a lot. They’re probably glad to be going without me.”

Smee got up, stretched, then walked away.

Gavin just hummed, looking back at the T.V. and watched as a large Snowman floated down the street. He idly wondered what he would tell them when Christmas time came.

It turns out he didn’t have to come up with any excuse.

Gavin didn’t enjoy working in the cold (he was used to England winters, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it). The shoot he was on (an actual shoot this time) made him work through not only cold, but rain. A terrible combination.

Gavin arrived home with a red nose and sore muscles. He spent the next day in bed, with a fever. Distantly, he was aware of Lindsay, Meg, and Michael coming to visit him. Gavin sniffed and coughed at them and they feed him soup.

It was Michael visiting him now, putting a cool cloth on top of his forehead. Gavin shivered and burrowed himself deeper into his covers.

He thought he heard Michael sigh and say something about how this would be much easy if Gavin was at their house. But Gavin couldn’t be sure as he immediately fell asleep, soothed by the sound of Michael’s voice.

Spring came and things were still going great. January seemed to fly by. Gavin had a mini heart attack when he looked at the date and realized that it was February 13th.

They laughed anyway at the cheap chocolates he gave them. Especially when he combined it with a mashup video of all the places he had had filmed them at. Later that night, they enjoyed another dinner Michael had made. In between mouthfuls of grilled chicken, Gavin asked a question that he’s idly thought about. “Have you guys ever wanted to get married?”

That cause the three of them to pause. Meg finished swallowing her food before nodding. “I’d love to get married, if we’re ever allowed to. I even have the dress picked out.”

Lindsay raised an eyebrow. “Do you really?”

Meg sniffed. “Of course. Don’t you?”

“Not really.” Lindsay replied. “I haven’t really thought about getting married. Not seriously anyways.”

“Same.” Michael said. “As soon as I knew I loved the both of you, getting married sort of went off the table. After meeting Gavin, that feeling doubled. I mean, gay marriage just got approved. Do you really think multiple marriage will happen in our lifetime?”

Meg sort of deflated at that. Gavin quickly said, “Maybe not in America but I’m certain some country will legalize it. Maybe England?”

“Ohhh, Gavvy, are you offering to marry us?” Michael teased, but there was an odd note to his voice.

Gavin looked down and picked at his food. “No. It’s not legal anyways.”

“What do you think of marriage?” Meg asked.

Gavin shrugged.. “My parent’s…it didn’t end well. I don’t have a very positive view on marriage.”

“Oh.”

They ate in silence for a second before Michael jumped into a ridiculous story about something stupid that happened at work.

With summer came Dan and work and Gavin celebrating one year being in love. Gavin knew it was coming, had saw them celebrating each other’s anniversary. But it still surprised him when they took him out to the movies and dinner. He got a kiss from each of them and a cake.

Gavin enjoyed the time he spent with them because, as with every summer, he got extremely busy again. Dan and him were in New York to meet with another director, sitting in the lobby of an expensive hotel, when Dan asked him, “So how is everything going in lover town?”

Gavin snorted, rolling his eyes. “Everythings fine. Meg’s lovely, Michael is a pain, and Lindsay is cute.”

Dan smiled at him. “Sounds like you're in love.”

Gavin looked back at him. “I really am.”

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this way.” Dan teased. Gavin stuck his tongue out at him. “But seriously, B, I’m happy for you.”

Gavin’s smile softened. “Hey thanks, B.”

There was silence for a second before Dan spoke again. “So when are you moving in?”

“Dan.”

“What? It has to be hard to constantly move back and forth between houses, even if you are neighbors. I suppose you can connect your house in some way but I don’t know how that would go over with the rest of the neighborhood.”

“I..haven’t thought about moving in.” Gavin said, looking down at his phone.

“Liar.”

“Dan.”

“Gavin, look. I know you. I’ve been your friend for years. I know how you think. You want to move in, you want to spend the rest of your life with them. But you don’t know how to ask and so then don’t.”

“I do not.”

Dan gave him a look. “Gavin, I once saw a girl flirt with you, give you all the clues that she wanted to hook up, maybe something more, and you completely missed it because you didn’t realize that was what she was doing and was too shy to ask.”

“That’s not-”

“Or how about the time a guy came up to you and asked for a date and you told him it was November 6?”

“You can not use-”

“Or how about that time with the chief?”

Gavin slumped into his seat. “So you what? Think I’m being childish?”

“No. I think you're just being Gavin.” Dan said. “They like you, and you like them. What’s so wrong with asking them about moving in?”

“I don’t know, B? Don’t you think it’s too soon?”

“You’ve been dating for over a year. I don’t think it’s too soon to start at least talking to them about it. Just tell them you’ve been thinking about wanting to move in at some point. If they think it’s too soon, at least you have the conversation started and they know what you want.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Gavin grumbled.

“That’s because it is easy. Look, they can’t read your mind. What if they want you to move in but are waiting for you to say something?”

Gavin made a face at him. “When did you get so reasonable at dating stuff?”

“I’ve always been reasonable.” Dan said, sounding offended.

Gavin side-eyed him. “You once got drunk and ended up sleeping out in the lawn, where your girlfriend then had to drag you inside.”

“Sounds reasonable to me.”

“Once inside, you started crying and tried to break up with her because she had a Mr. Blobby mask sitting on the table left over from Halloween.”

“Like I said, sounds reasonable to me.”

Gavin took Dan’s advice to heart. Well, he did after agonizing over it for a good few days after getting back from the shoot. He finally mention it when playing games with Meg (both Lindsay and Michael were away at work).

“It would probably be easier if my game system was next to your game system, that way we don’t have to go back and forth with our games.”

“Totally.” Meg replied, not looking away from the screen.

Gavin felt like that was good enough.

Gavin was panicking. He was all smiles on the outside, but inside, he was full on freaking out. It was Thanksgiving again and there was no way Gavin was going to get out of meeting Meg and Lindsay’s parents.

It was going to be a two partner, apparently. Since both Lindsay’s and Meg’s family lived in Texas, so it would be easy to spend two days with Lindsay and then two days with Meg.

They were super sneaky about making sure Gavin was free. And by sneaky, he meant that they asked if he had shoots coming up and, because Gavin didn’t realize what month it was, he saw no need to lie.

Not even a perfectly reasonable “I don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving” can get him out of it.

So now Gavin had a couple of hours stuck in a car to dread about what could possibly happen. He wasn’t so worried about them not liking him as a fourth member of the relationship, he was sure if they were fine with their child dating two other people, one more wasn’t such a big deal. He did worry that they wouldn’t like him. Would they be ok with him? What if he offended them in some way?

But what Gavin was worried about the most was that this was all too soon. What would they think about bringing home a partner they’ve only been dating for a year?

But Gavin didn’t tell them that and instead just braced himself for bad outcomes.

Surprising (but probably only to Gavin) everything went well.

Lindsay’s parents were warm and positive and baked the best pie Gavin had ever had. They welcomed him home with open arms.

Meg’s family was intense. She had a lot of siblings and her parents practically grilled him about what he did, but in the end they invited him to join in on some family games and Gavin left feeling welcomed.

Gavin was...happy he went. And he could tell that the others were happy he was accepted too. For the first time, he wondered if maybe he wasn’t being stupid about the too early thing.

For the first time in forever, Gavin thought about what it would be like if he brought someone home to England.

The Christmas tree was set up in the corner of the living room and Gavin was dragged into decorating it. They hung tinsel up everywhere and Lindsay seemed to want a snowman every five feet.

Gavin loved it.

There was something so nice about watching Michael squeeze everyone’s faces as he kissed them before starting to complain that it looked like Santa threw up in here. Meg would laugh and say that they haven’t even gone through half the decorations and Lindsay would pull out another endless string of lights.

At some point, Gavin knew they would bake cookies and try to build a gingerbread house. And later they would watch Christmas movies and Meg and Lindsay would try to put a Christmas hat on Smee while Michael yells at them and Gavin films it.

It was a happy time. It filled Gavin with all sort of feelings.

Gavin knows he can be oblivious sometimes. He’s been told that plenty by Dan. Geoff would roll his eyes when saying it and Burnie always laughed at him.

But it still came as a complete shock to Gavin one fine March day when Michael came up to him, while they were at Gavin’s house, frowning. “So are we just not dropping enough hints or are you a complete moron?”

“Michael, why are you always so mean to me, Michael?” Gavin whined, though he took no actual offense.

Michael rolled his eyes but bent down to help Gavin, picking up the other side of a heavy camera case so they could put it away in Gavin’s closet. “I’m only mean because you ask for it. But seriously, what’s it going to take?”

“What are you talking about?” Gavin asked.

“About us wanting you to move in.”

Gavin almost dropped the case. Michael cursed. “What the fuck, Gavin? Are you trying to fuck up my foot or something?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Gavin quickly picked up the slack. As soon as they put the case away, Gavin turned towards Michael. “Wait? You what?”

“We. Want. You.” Michael gestured between Gavin and himself and Gavin scowled at him. “To move in. With. Us.”

“Thank you, I can hear.”

“So?” Michael said, crossing his arms. His foot started tapping against the ground.

Gavin bit his lip. “You guys really want me to move in?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if we didn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“After nearly two years? No?” Michael frowned. “If you don’t want to move in with us, just say so.”

“I do!” Gavin blurted out. He started fidgeting with his hands. “I do, I want to move in with you guys.”

Michael grabbed his hands. “Gavin, do you want to move in with us?”

Gavin took a deep breath, then looked up and into Michael’s eyes. “Yes. I want to move in with you.”

A slow smile began to spread across Michael’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I really, really do.”

Later, lying in their bed, Gavin would laugh and mention that he thought he had dropped hints about moving in.

All three of them looked at him with confused looks. “When?” Meg asked.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we would have picked that up.” Lindsay chimed in.

“W-w-with you.” Gavin said, pointing at Meg. He had to half-sit up in bed to be able to do it, but he did. “I mentioned it when we were gaming.”

Meg’s eyebrows went nearly into her hair. “That was your hint? Mentioning it once when we were gaming?”

“Yeah!”

Michael just shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“What? What?”

It took three days to move all of Gavin’s stuff to their house. Gavin won’t sell his house for another year (it’s a source of many arguments but ultimately they know it isn’t him having a backup just incase things go south-he’s just too lazy to get to it).

Two days after agreeing to move in, Gavin calls up Dan to talk about their agreement. Dan can still stay in Gavin’s old house during the summers until Gavin sells it. They all agree it’ll be pretty useful to have someone there to keep the house in good condition.

Dan is smug the entire time they talk. Gavin lets him be, because, well he deserved it.

At the end of it Dan tells him “I told you so.”

Gavin sighs. “I know, B.”

“You could have done this like a year ago.”

“I know Dan.”

A pause.

“Hey, Gavin?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy for you.”

Gavin smiles. “Thanks B.”

Gavin almost feels natural in their house. Sure, he’s been spending a good amount of time there since they started dating, but still. He woke up now in his bed, and ate food at his table, and played games on his T.V.

Their house had become his. Gavin loves it.

He loves how Lindsay and he will fight for coffee as they leave for work, how Michael is yelling at them as he cooks them breakfast, and how Meg comes down to complain about them waking her up.

He loves how one of them will knock on the door to his office, making sure Gavin took some breaks while he working.

He loved surprising them with gifts, loves going to Michael’s work to give him food (it was shitty compared to what Michael could make but he figured he should return the favor), loves helping Meg with her cosplays.

Gavin loves being with them. And he knows they love him.

Gavin is nervous as he waits in front of the putt putt golf area. It’s his two year anniversary. The rest of them were on their way, Meg and Lindsay were picking Michael up from work. After golfing, they figured they could move on to go-kart racing. Or maybe ice-cream. They haven’t really decided.

Gavin checks his watch. He looks down at the little box he had in his hand. Then back up, smiling as Lindsay waved at him from where they were walking down the sidewalk. Gavin meets them halfway.

He gives all three a kiss on the cheek. Meg kisses back but her eyes are glued to the box. “What’s this? You got us something?”

“Yeah.” He practically pushes the box into her hands.

Meg raises an eyebrow but opens it anyways. As soon as she looks inside, she bursts out giggling before showing Michael and Lindsay. Lindsay starts laughing too. Michael shouts “What the fuck, Gavin?” but he’s also smiling.

The box was filled with sugar. Gavin took the box back, shaking it a bit as he began to explain. “So I know I’m not the best at commitment and I have a hard time...expressing myself and putting myself out there. And I’m sure you know my problems with meeting...parents.”

“You mean the time you lied to us to get out of meeting my parents?” Michael asked.

Gavin winced. “You know about that, huh?”

“It wasn’t very hard to figure out. Elyse mentioned that she was surprised we didn’t take you and then told us that you had been home all week.”

“Yeah, well, ok. So I have a thing about parents.” Gavin mumbled. He shifted the sugar around some more. “So yeah. I thought this would be a good...surprise.”

“Surprise.” He lifted the box up. Beneath the sugar were a couple piece of paper.

Delicately, Meg pulled them out. “Plane..tickets?”

Gavin nodded. “To England. If you would like, would you like to meet my mom?”

They meet his mom. She loves them. They love her.

Gavin is happy.

#mavinseg #neighbors au #i don't know how to eel about this one #i love the first half #but don't know how to feel about the second half #but i hope everyone else enjoys it

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headoverhiddles · 7 years

Text

Bon Soir [Lafayette x Reader] Part One

Description: You, an American patriot from a loyalist family, catch the eye of the Marquis De Lafayette one night at a tavern. After your first night with the enigmatic frenchman, you realize how turbulent life can really get in a time as turbulent as this.

Warnings For This Chapter: Smut, alcohol, mild swearing, and mild Lams, where I could slip it in ;)

Notes: So, there will be five parts to this story. It will, if we’re being honest here, be updated probably once or twice a week until it is finished. This story is a mix of Hamilton’s characters and actual historical stuff, and there will also be lots of appearances from the rev set in this fic, so brrrah, brrrah!! Enjoy.

||Part Two||

It's a beautiful night in the colony of New York, the moon full and the usual chill in the air slightly warmed. Besides it being a lovely night, it was also quite rowdy- but during these turbulent times, you couldn't expect less from the Northern colonies.

You pull your cloak tighter around your shoulders... it's really not a night to be out for a lady, but you couldn't care less. Your family still clings to the proverbial olive branch, one of the less popular voices of loyalist reconciliation. You're a patriot, through and through, and any chance you have to escape your frankly shameful homestead under an anonymous family name at night to "cavort" with those who share your views on freedom, you take.

Slipping down a dark alley with the hood of your cloak pulled up, you find your way into the even rowdier Fraunces Tavern. Looking around, you smile. Men clinking their sloshing drinks together, shouts and jeers at the king tossed around liberally- this was the beginning of a revolution, and you’d be damned if you missed it.

"You lookin' for a good time, honey?" some guy with a heavy Boston accent asks you from the table next to the door, and you turn to him.

"I'm looking for a drink, and whatever good time I can derive from that." The guy still stares at you, waiting for a follow up, so you decide to win even more favour by voicing your views. "Fuck the king?"

The entire table bursts out in cheers and pounds their fists and mugs down repeatedly as you smirk and saunter past them. You get to the bar, and ask for a Sam Adams, before turning around and surveying. To answer the drunk man's question, you aren't actively seeking that sort of good time, really... but, nights like these were full of exceptions.

"Here you are, miss," the friendly bartender nods to you, then pauses, "I've seen you in here a couple times now, and I don't recall your name.” He looks genuinely confused. “Who's your husband?"

"I'll let you know once I find one," you wink, and cross the tavern to occupy a booth. Just as you're lifting up your skirts to sit, the door crashes open, and in come four very loud young men.

"What time is it?!" one yells, and the other three yell back, "Showtime!" while cackling and slapping each other on the back.

You roll your eyes again, imagining all the fights they were sure to start tonight. The bartender seems to know them, and pours four ales for them as well. Snatching up his drink, the short one with the ponytail and goatee marches right up to the table in the middle, getting up on it and chugging half his mug.

"To the revolution!" he finally bursts out with, and almost trips off the table. The large one with the beanie catches him, shaking his head with a grin, and the second shortest one with curly hair and freckles joins the talker with a close arm around his shoulder.

"Now this is the place to be, amiright boys?!" freckles shouts, taking a long drink.

"Oui oui, mon ami," another voice chuckles, and your interest is immediately peaked. A frenchman in the colonies? The excitement of these taverns is incomparable, and it is exciting to say the least to hear someone from so far away- you know a little of the language, or what you had learned as a girl.

You watch in quiet admiration as a tall, athletically built man with dark hair tied up in a bun and a close trimmed beard steps out, carrying two mugs of ale. He hands one to beanie man, and plops his own down on the table. "We must tell the king casse toi with our war effort!"

"We will, Laf," beanie assures, "But first? Horses."

"What?" freckles and goatee both say at the same time.

"Corsets," beanie laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, "I meant corsets."

"Hercules, you are an idiot," Laf deadpans.

"I'm the most mature one here," Hercules shoots back.

"Easy, when tes amis are Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens."

Hercules lets out a booming laugh, and is soon joined by Laf's own charming snicker. Alex and John are too enamoured with their own private conversation to notice much.

Your eyes train on Laf. If he was french, he must have a longer name than that... you're determined to know it. He was undeniably a charmer- he was handsome, dashing as a prince, and very stylish. With the words he had uttered earlier, you found it safe to assume he's as passionate about American independence as you are.

You make an excuse to walk by.

"Heyyy there," goatee (Alexander)? calls, swivelling his head to look at you.

Bingo.

Hercules lets out a low whistle as you turn to face them. "I don't mean to be too forward, but madamn.”

"What the ever loving merde is that supposed to mean, Hercules?" Laf's face scrunches up, and Herc just shrugs.

"Works on most of 'em."

"I'm Alexander Hamilton, bastard, orphan, son of a whore," Alex jumps up, grasping your hands, and you can see the gears in his slightly drunk mind turning. "So I'd love to flirt for like, a really long time because you're pretty and everything, but there's a revolution to plot-"

"-And drink to!" John adds.

"-And drink to, as my beautiful lover Jackie just piped in and waaait, I'm probably not supposed to say shit like that in a tavern full of guys who will probably have me castrated for it, but hey, we die like men, right?"

"Yo, um, sorry 'bout him," John blushes with a slight slur, coming over to guide Alex back to his seat. "He gets- *hic*- chatty when he's tipsy." You just laugh, letting them know it's no big deal. John doesn't seem very interested in you romantically or sexually, only greets with a good natured- albeit tipsy as well- smile. Hercules gets up to introduce himself.

"Hercules Mulligan. I'm Irish." He drops his voice down to a whisper. "That's kind of my thing." Laf gets up to hip bump Hercules out of the way, take your hand, and press a kiss to it. You blush deeply.

"Bon soir, belle mademoiselle. I am Paul Yves Roch-"

"Heeere we go," Alex slurs.

"-Gilbert de Motier de Marquis de Lafayette," Laf finishes with a glare to his friends, then turns back to you with a gaze that could only be described as... lust ridden?

"Plaisir," you reply in french, and his eyes widen, his entire body straightening like an arrow in excitement.

"You speak my mother tongue, cherie?!"

"Only a little," you confess with a timid giggle, "I'm not French, monsieur Lafayette, only acquired some words from my studies."

"Gorgeous and intelligent," he flirts, "A lady after my heart."

"Handsome and bold," you volley back, "A man after mine."

"OHHHH SHIT!" John shouts, and Alex begins to laugh.

"GUESS WHO'S GETTING IT IN TONIGHT?!"

"Not you two," Laf growls, and John and Alex tumble over each other watching you both. Hercules just rolls his eyes, and downs his drink.

"Care to drink with us?" Lafayette offers, outstretching his hand, and you happily accept. Hercules gets up to grab you another beer, and slides it over to you. John begins to chug his second, and you smirk, taking it as a challenge. Downing yours to the last drop, you've finally earned the respect of Hercules Mulligan as he bangs on the table and shakes his head.

"You are getting better and better as the night goes on," Laf whispers, and you laugh.

"Is that the alcohol talking?"

"On the contrary, cherie, I am still on my first... though I may be thinking with something other than my mind," he alludes, and you feel a shiver run through you.

He is very attractive.

"What brings you to the colonies?" you ask Lafayette conversationally, and he takes a sip of his ale.

"Revolution."

"You're here for congressional duties?" you feign ignorance, though you know how to identify a congressman- powdered wigs, brightly coloured jackets, and stuffy mannerisms. Nothing Laf possessed.

"Ah no, mademoiselle. War is imminent- that is the talk here and overseas. I will fight as one of you for your glorious country!"

"Ayyy, to our fighting frenchman!" Alex lifts his mug, and John raises his as well.

"Very brave," you murmur, "I wish I could serve in the continental army."

"You can still do your part at home," Laf assures, taking your hands excitedly, "You can make gunpowder, you can sew uniforms, you can..." he suddenly hesitates, lowering his eyes, "Pray for and write letters to your husband."

"Why does everyone in this tavern assume I have a husband?" you tease, and he looks back up.

"Forgive me. No one has, eh… courted you yet?"

"Courted me? Oh, quite a few. I have yet to accept," you giggle, "I suppose I’m just as hard to please as the next young lady."

"I, too, have very specific tastes," he nods, and bites his lip, "Mais, it would be very nice to have a woman to boost my morale on the battlefield."

"Wait... hey, what's your name?" John laughs, "We didn't even ask!"

"Oh," you blush, eye contact with Lafayette broken, "Um..." You sigh. It shouldn't be any trouble to give them your real name. "(y/n) (y/l/n)."

Everyone repeats your name, raises a glass, and drinks. Lafayette smirks at you a moment longer, then drinks as well.

As the night wears on, you start to become even closer with the group. Stories are passed around, drinking games are played, and talk that would've sounded like treason in many other colonies flowed freely from your mouth with the boys. As the night begins to dwindle with the candles burning down close by, hands begin to wander, skirts began to lift a few inches, and blood begins to rise.

"Raise one last glass to freedom," John finally says, somewhat soberly, as everyone stands up, "Something they can never take away."

"No matter what they tell you," Herc adds, placing a hand over his heart.

"Raise a glass to the... five of us, here tonight," Alex nods, looking to you, "Our cause is a great one."

"King George will never stand a chance," you finish, and everyone downs their last sip and sits back down. With that, Laf takes your hand, rubbing a thumb over your knuckle. You turn to him, and take note of how he’s staring at your lips. Danger and adrenaline course through your veins, imagining just what he could be picturing right now. Practically in his lap by now, you shift your hips a little, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

"It is getting late, ma cherie," he murmurs, obviously holding back, and begins to stand.

"It is," you nod, moving to brush your fingers along the hem of his blue coat, and grasp your fingers firmly in his lapel. His eyes dart to meet yours, dark and warning, and his fingers find yours as he lets out a wistful sigh.

"(y/n)... I am a gentleman, and you have had too much to drink."

"I assure you," you grin, turning the tables and ghosting a kiss over his knuckles, "I have not."

He spends a long time staring at you, debating mentally. You can feel him hardening in his breeches under you, but despite his uncomfortable expression and beading sweat, he doesn't make even the slightest nudge to meet your grinding movements.

"Are you quite certain?" he finally asks, interest beginning to spark again in his eyes as he realizes that maybe you do want him like this.

"All I want is to feel your lips on my neck," you confirm with a whisper in his ear, and he slots his large hand around your wrist, standing you up. The three others don't even question it as Laf leads you out the back door, and the once the heavy wooden door closes, you’re both free. He immediately presses the front of you right up against the brick, pulling your hair aside and grazing his teeth over the back of your neck.

"Then, if there are no reservations on either of our parts, I will give you everything you need," he growls, and continues his attack on your neck, showering kisses up and down. You flip around so that you can face him, and he pins you back again, opening up the neck of your dress just a little more for better access.

Lafayette's gaze is hungry. Your excitement is known to him as he reaches under your dress, unbuttons your underclothes and realizes you're already wet for him.

"So eager," he groans, "Such an eager little kitten, desperate for her papa, hm?"

"Oh," you sigh, his words sending pulses down to your core. He pulls your underclothes off, but as his long fingers are about to breach you, he pauses.

"You... have been touched or taken before, yes?"

You bite your lip, look around, and nod shyly. If word of that got out around here, you’d be off the market, as it were…. not that you particularly desired to on the market, but that was a different matter entirely. His face blossoms into a grin, and he lifts your legs up to wrap around him.

"Hold onto me, cherie, do not let go," he murmurs, and once your arms are secure around his neck as well, he uses one hand to unbutton his breeches. You can already see the outline of his large cock, and once he has everything undone, he pulls it out.

"Monsieur, you're so big," you whine, and he gazes at you, licking his lips.

"We can make it fit, ma cherie," he whispers, "Spread your legs a little wider for me... that is it, kitten... like that."

You keen under the pet name, and he positions himself at your entrance before finally pushing in, groaning together with you as you tighten around him.

"Oui, oui, yes..." he breathes, "That is good... so good for me..." He sucks his lip between his teeth, and after a few seconds, begins to move, nudging you back against the wall with each deep thrust. He's very large, so he has no trouble hitting that spot that drives you crazy, but he makes it even better when his fingers find your clit; Laf has a different approach than most men do, though- the select few you'd been with (if they make the effort to find it at all) rub with harsh, rough pushes... Lafayette massages you in slow circles, making you moan for him.

Leaning forward, the intensity between you increases as your foreheads meet, lips drifting close to each other and parting, almost kissing but not for minutes at a time. The teasing was getting to him, and he finally surges forward, breathing in your breath. You give his bottom lip a feisty bite, and he smiles, drawing away.

“You are a true northern belle, mademoiselle (y/n),” he mumbles, panting, “You are not like other ladies.”

“Oh, on the contrary sir,” you reply, “I simply don’t bother with the false customs. I say, fuck tradition, and fuck anybody who wishes to advise me otherwise.”

“There is a revolution on because of Americans who share your general mindset, ma chou,” he grins, and kisses you again.

As you both begin to race toward your climax, his thrusts increase, and you're soon being pounded into the wall, legs tight around his ass and cries being muffled in his blue coat.

“Please… ah, Laf….”

“(y/n), so perfect, j’aime votre parfum…”

As he whispers your name, you hear voices, and turn to see two men walking by the alley on the road, in hats and coats. They sound southern.

"What if th...th-" you gasp, and Laf strokes your cheek.

"They will not see us, it is too dark. Besides, why would anybody pay attention to a stray kitten, begging in an alley, like you?"

"Ah," you throb again at his dark laugh, and he shrugs.

"Also, the alleyway behind a tavern is where all the drunkards stumble out to vomit. No respectable man or woman wants to see that."

"What an arousing image," you scowl, and lean in for another kiss.

"You are so beautiful," he mumbles against your lips once you part, and licks a line up your neck to just below your ear; you're losing yourself to the pleasure. "Do you think you can come for me, ma (y/n)?" Laf rasps in your ear, stroking over your clit fondly, and you nod with a little whine, crying out his name softly as he slams in particularly hard. Circling his hips to guide you through a long orgasm, he lets out a little gasp of his own after you've finished. As you shake and pant his name, he sets you down carefully before quickly pulling out and taking himself in hand, jerking frantically a couple times and coming like a shot against the brick wall. Your name falls from his lips a few times like a prayer, and soon, you're both sated and exchanging lazy tongue kisses, tasting each other's mouths in the night air.

It's chillier than it was earlier. You should get home before your one of your sisters or father notices you're gone.

"When do you leave to join the ranks?" you ask, staring into his eyes. He does up his buttons precisely, patiently and one at a time.

"Very soon, I assume, cherie."

"How very childish of me, but... what you said, about having someone to look out for you..."

"Mmm?"

"Will you..." you look down, embarrassed, and take off a ring on your pinky finger. "Remember me over a couple beers with your friends?"

His eyes light up, and he presses a long kiss to your cheek.

"When I wake up and when I fall asleep, (y/n)."

You smile a little. "Thank you for your service."

He kisses your hand one last time. "If it takes fighting a war and, eh...” he leans in to your ear, brushing your hair back, “getting better acquainted behind a tavern to meet, it will, most certainly, have been worth it, ma chou," he smiles back.

You dance and sigh your way home, ignorant of every redcoat who gives you a second dirty look. With men like the Marquis de Lafayette and his friends leading the troops, those bastards’ll be back home where they belong in no time.

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anbeee-blog · 7 years

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oh sangwoo: ignorant bliss - chapter two

i do not own the manhwa nor do i own any of the killing stalking characters except my own. i do not own the plot of the manhwa except this fanfic plot. killing stalking belongs to koogi. thank you for giving us this beautiful work of art!!

I'd come to the bar in a dress that fell down to my knees and the most comfortable heels I could find in my closet. It wasn't the most provocative outfit that I had, but I didn't want to create a bad impression in front of him after not contacting him for almost two years. And I wasn't there to draw the wrong kind of attention from Sangwoo.

The bodyguard grumbles for my ID and I fished it out of my purse. Eventually I was ushered in and enveloped in the unexpected warmth of sensuous jazz and alcohol in the air. It seemed that Sangwoo knew where to go and my heart began pounding under my chest.

"Eunbi?"

I turned around to whoever called my name and gaped at Sangwoo, who was standing before me in clad black that hugged his fit frame. He had grown taller and was bulked by a little muscle. But I could still see the young boy that I met back then on his face.

My eyes beaded with tears and I cupped my mouth with both of my hands. "Oh my God, Sangwoo. I missed you--"

He enveloped me in his arms, cutting off my sentence. Some of the nearby guests were shooting odd looks at the both of us, but ultimately minded their own business. I shakily embraced him back, my hands clasped together behind his waist. I swore he could feel my heart thudding against his chest as I fought for some restraint on my emotions.

Reluctantly, I pulled away and glanced up at him, sure that the bewildered look on his face was because of the tears that had started to freely fall down my cheeks. "I--I don't even know what to say," I said over the jazz music.

"Me neither," he said, sounding breathless.

We stood facing each other by the bar counter for what felt like forever until I knocked myself out of my reverie and suggested, "Could we go somewhere else more quiet to talk?"

He arched one of his eyebrows. "Just talking?"

I gawked at him and he laughed, shaking his head. "I was joking. Let's go."

Sangwoo motioned for me to follow in suit as we maneuvered between bustling tables and rowdy bargoers. We finally managed to grab a vacant table in the corner where thankfully, the area lacked the number of customers that I saw right when I entered the building. I sat down first and took consistent breaths, trying to push down the butterflies in my stomach.

The fact that he was handsome did not leave my mind, as much as I wanted it to. He casually ran a hand through his messy curls and I wanted to rub them between my fingers like I had before. It triggered an influx of memories that flooded through my mind like a broken dam. He probably wasn't as excited to meet me as I was to him, but I felt all the same anyway.

"How are you? I didn't get to see you after we graduated and all," he said, sounding resigned.

I swallowed. "Not so good. I began college at a rocky start," I forced out a chuckle. "And I didn't get to talk to you afterward before you left for the military."

Something close to wariness crossed his complexion and he quieted. "Yeah. Some things happened."

Gripping one of my knees, I carefully treaded over my words. They would either result in the end of our night or extend the conversation further about his life.

"I... I heard about what happened. From someone while I was studying for a test back at school."

His eyes darkened and he drummed his fingers on the polished surface of the table. "Who did you hear it from?"

The way his voice dropped lower made my skin crawl. "These group of students were gossiping about you. I don't know them."

"You're saying that to defend them?" he tilted his head, his voice hinting at a challenge.

"What? Of course not," I replied, stung. The distrust in his eyes hurt me more than his absence for those few years. "I want to know what happened from you."

Sangwoo shook his head and chuckled, the sound dark. "Why are we talking about this in a bar? Maybe later."

But that stubbornness rooted inside me firm and unflinching. "Sangwoo. Please. You've left me in the dark for two years."

"I don't want to talk about it," he growled, his snarl almost feral.

"Please--"

"Leave it alone," he enunciated his words, his agitation showing through his habit of tapping his feet. It sounded louder than the jazz music that was playing overhead.

This wasn't how I wanted the night to go and I closed my eyes, pinched the bridge of my nose, and sighed in resignation. It was just like last time when he burst angrily at me in a tirade of words that stabbed me over and over. Only now he was more controlling of himself.

"Fine, I won't try anymore," I stated, my voice cracking.

"Come on, Eunbi," Sangwoo murmured and moved to my side where the seats were stationed to the wall, plastered with comfortable leather cushions. "You know how I am with my private life."

"The most I got out from you was what your house looked like and what you eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner," I said bitterly.

Sangwoo snaked his arm around my shoulder and cupped left side, squeezing tighter than necessary. "Then I'll show and tell you tonight when we get to my house."

I felt sick hearing the sensuous undertones in his voice, my shoulders shaking underneath his arm. "That's alright, Sangwoo. I don't want to be more of a bother. Besides, I came here just to catch up."

His lips quirked up, amused. "Offer's still open. Buses stop at around ten. And," he said as he looked at his silver watch, "you got thirty minutes to spare."

My eyes widened and I scrambled out of his hold, my legs shaking on my high heels. This wasn't what I had imagined catching up with him. If I felt uncomfortable, I immediately tried to remove myself to another environment. I tightened my grip on my purse and bowed my head apologetically. "Maybe we can catch up another time. Preferrably during the daytime. I'm sorry," I babbled.

Sangwoo sighed and rose up to his full height, towering over me by a few feet. "Come on, we haven't even been here for over an hour yet. Besides, I can take you home in my car."

I tucked a stray hair behind my ear and stood my ground. "I just thought tbat I might have been bothering you too much." Lie.

"No you're not," Sangwoo shook his head, stepping closer to me. "I just overreact a little is all."

I step back. "Still, I should get home soon. The bus is going to arrive in a bit--"

"--and I don't want you to go alone at night. There's sketchy people out there."

Really.

"I'm sorry for being moody," Sangwoo apologized. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

I massaged my temples. "Well, you did anyway."

Sangwoo pulled me into a hug, his large arms enveloping my chest and my head snuggled into his. "Let it go, Eunbi. I'll tell you when we go to my house."

The feeling of comfort left me again and I put my hands on his chest, slightly pushing him away. "Wait, I don't want to--"

"Please," he begged, his voice nasal.

His insistent tone and the pleading look on his face only melted my resolve. And I couldn't deny it.

I took his hand and patted his open palm. My hand was so much smaller than his.

"I'll go."

continuing in... | chapter three |

#killing stalking #ks #ohsangwoo #sangwoo #yoonbum #manhwa #koogi #lezhin #lezhin comics #horror #psychological #thriller #fanfic #fanfiction #read #write #i do not own this manhwa #i do not own the characters except the one i created #ignorant bliss

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temptation-narnia-chronicles · 6 years

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From Upon the Golden Thrones

Episode 17: An Unexpected Guest

“I hope you don't mind how brief our visit has been" Peter said, sitting across from the Galman duke. Fresh morning air wafted across the balcony, bringing the brine of the sea with it. The gentle queen elected not to join the conversation. "Now that our brother is safe and sound, I think it's time we moved on to our next destination.”

"No trouble at all, your highness!" the duke exclaimed jovially. "You are welcome any time, for any length of time! I am just grateful King Edmund was returned to you unharmed." The duke smiled upon the magnificent kindly, sending a warmth of spirit through the High King. "The feelings are mutual" he replied with a smile. He was eternally grateful for the duke's hospitality, especially at such a trying time, and made sure to make this known. However, behind closed doors, the High King grew weary. With such a drastic setback already, the promise of a vacation was growing grimmer by the second. A piece of him wanted nothing more than to just forget the whole thing and return home. He knew it could be done, certainly. After all, he was the High King. The world was at his command. But the sword he wielded was dual-edged. Cancelling the trip would relieve him, but break Lucy's heart. This was all her idea and he certainly didn't want to discourage her. So for now, he'd simply suck it up and manage for his sister's sake. Perhaps some distance was what he needed anyways, regardless of what that meant. The village below bustled with merchants and customers browsing through various wares. Cloaked in plain clothes, the Pevensies joined them inconspicuously in hopes of better acquainting themselves with their neighboring nation. It was one thing to sit high upon a hill and watch the world pass below, but there was something so much more invigorating about becoming a part of the crowd. They knew disguising themselves was unnecessary, that they were more than welcome to walk the streets in more regal attire, but they preferred not to make spectacles of themselves. Edmund had already become quite a spectacle on his own. They didn't want to draw any more attention to themselves than necessary. Even in common attire, however, the royals were not totally unrecognizable. Many a villager approached them graciously, thanking them for their work during the plague. Lucy was especially praised, gifted many hugs and presents as thanks for her tireless devotion. The merchants also overflowed with gratefulness, offering discounts and free items but the quartet humbly refused. They were far richer than those selling on the streets and didn't believe they deserved to cheat such hardworking people out of a fair sale. As Peter paid for a bushel of exotic fruit that Lucy was eager to try, Edmund's eyes wandered to the booths surrounding. Everything imagineable was on sale, from intricately designed carpets to fresh fruits and vegetables. The most alluring of all, he thought, was the artwork. While not as popular a purchase as groceries or housewares, what was offered was stunning. A beautiful abstract sculpture instantly captured the king's attention, it's colored glass glistening in the strong sunlight. As he inched nearer for a better view, something else caught his eye: the woman inspecting it. The hood of her dark cloak fell backward to reveal a familiar face, porcelain skin framed by waves of fiery red hair. He recognized her immediately. "Ed, did you want some of this?" Peter asked as he divided up the fruit. He knew it was a stupid question, as his brother was always up for snacks. But when he turned around, Edmund was nowhere in sight. "Not again!" Susan exclaimed. He had already drowned once this week. They didn't need to lose him in yet another sea. She scanned the crowd for any sign of him, but all she saw were strangers. Lucy ducked into the crowd and weaved through the maze of people until she finally found him. A strange expression painted Edmund's face as she watched him approach the woman with seemingly no regard for public safety, bumping into every villager he passed and even nearly flattened by a cart of rowdy chickens. Their squawking captured Peter and Susan's attention, rushing forward to retrieve their daredevil brother. They reached Edmund just as his mouth opened to speak, tugging him backwards and shooting scolding glances at him. "We're terribly sorry for our brother, miss. He's a little out of sorts today" Peter apologized. The woman smiled and erupted in a resounding laugh. "It's no trouble at all, sire" she replied. She spoke in such a strange accent that they couldn't quite place, almost like a hybrid between Spanish and French. Susan filtered through all the countries they had visited for any idea of which she might be from. "Your brother is a very charming young man. I am honored to make his acquaintance." The three nodded absently, a strange feeling beginning to take root, then bid the woman good day. Edmund, however, struggled in their grip. "Wait! I never caught your name!" he exclaimed. Beads of sweat began forming on his brow, both from her presence and his protest. A tempting smile touched her lips before she replied simply, "Gisèle." Her name rolled off her tongue like a forbidden spell, sweet and symphonic. Edmund's knees buckled at the sound of it. The further away Peter pulled him, the more panicked he became. He couldn't stand to never see her again. In an act of desperation, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called to her. "Come to dinner! At the mansion!" His siblings froze. Shock coursed through their veins. Amid the crowd, Gisèle glanced over her shoulder with a crooked smile, waving goodbye with a sway of her hips, and then was swallowed up by the crowd. Edmund's heart sank the moment she disappeared. The tension melted from his muscles, making his transport that much easier on the others. "Why did you do that?" Peter scolded. "You can't just invite people to dinner like that!" Something uneasy began to envelope him, a strange sensation akin to deja vu. Whatever it was, he wanted it gone and fast. "I thought these sorts of things were social affairs! The kind where you get to know people" Edmund protested. "Yeah, Ed, important people" Peter replied. "I think she's important!" Edmund shouted back. "Ed, you barely know her!" the magnificent argued. "Well, I would like to!" said the just. "What makes her any more special than any other girl on the street, then? Maybe we should invite that woman there, or that old woman over there!" "Because she isn't just any woman. She's the mermaid!" At that, the three of them paused with mixed expressions. Susan's eyes widened, officially convinced her brother had lost his mind. Lucy's eyes brightened, excited at the concept. Peter, however, blinked and slapped his palm to his forehead, clenching his opposite fist. "You think she's the mermaid you saw when you went under" he said, more as a statement than a question. Edmund nodded definitively. "Alright, so say you're right. Say she is this mermaid--" "Peter!" Susan interrupted defiantly, but her brother raised a finger and begged her to just humor him for a moment. "What are we going to do if she shows up?" "We treat her like every other dinner guest: with respect!" Edmund exclaimed. "And if she never comes?" "Well...then, I don't know." Edmund didn't want to think about that. She would show up. She had to show up. There was no reason for her not to. It was a free dinner in a beautiful mansion on a hill. How could anyone refuse? Still, the thought haunted him. The duke took great measures to ensure the Pevensie's last night in Galma was the most splendid yet. News of a special guest inspired him tenfold, demanding his chefs serve only the finest delicacies their land had to offer. It was a generous gesture, of course, but there was something about all of this that sincerely worried Susan. "I'm not so sure about this, Pete" she whispered to her brother in private. "Ed's gone completely mad!" Peter rubbed the back of his neck with uncertainty. "I know what you mean, Su. You can't exactly trust just anyone on the street. But..." It was the but that caught Susan off guard. She braced herself for whatever shitty excuse her brother was about to present, knowing that whatever he thought of would be in no way justified. Perhaps she even felt a little offended. She thought he agreed wholly on the matter. Any deviation was grounds for suspicion. "I don't think we should discredit Edmund for wanting to take someone in and get to know them" he replied. Susan arched a brow, urging him to continue. "I know we don't know her, and that she's off the streets, but I think she deserves a little charity. Besides, Edmund seems to like her a lot." "Oh, he does, does he?" she said, crossing her arms. Peter nodded. "I think he sees something familiar in her. I can respect that. She does have this certain quality that makes me feel like I've seen her before." "Really?" the gentle asked. Again, Peter nodded. "Looks like something out of a fever dream, I think. I know her face, but I can't place where she's from." "Now you've gone mad" she scoffed. "Have I, though?" he replied. "It's not totally uncommon to recognize people you may have never met. Whose to say that's not fate? For all we know, she might be his soulmate. They might be destined to be together. We certainly can't step in the way of--" "Peter, this is not about you" Susan interrupted. The High King paused a moment, mouth gaping, before he recoiled in offense. Susan knew where he was going with this and she didn't like the outcome. This was a serious matter they had on their hands. In no way was it appropriate for Peter to project his own troubles and sappy romance upon their younger brother. The magnificent stood frozen for a moment longer before dropping his shoulders and furrowing his brows. He knew what she thought: that everyone and everything revolved around Eilonwy. And maybe she did consume his every waking thought, and the desperation for her return coated every shallow breath, but that didn't mean he wanted the same for Edmund. He never would wish this brand of pain upon even the worst of his enemies. All he wanted was for Ed to be happy. If Gisèle made him happy, then by all means. "You know, I thought you of all people would understand the concept of charity, but I guess I was wrong." Every muscle in Edmund's body stood rigid as he seated himself for dinner. His eyes constantly darted between the clock and the large windows in the dining hall, awaiting his guest's arrival. Susan's heart broke for him, knowing he would almost certainly be disappointed, but at the same time she prayed for time to move quickly so that they could get the night over with and she would be relieved of her fear. The grandfather clock chimed seven and the kitchen doors swung open to present dinner. Edmund slumped in his seat, Gisèle's absence confirmed. He had held out hope long enough. She wasn't coming. He would never see her again. Nefyn could sense the young king's distress, though for what, she had no idea. While the Pevensies had ventured into town, her father had kept her busy working. Just because the kings and queens are on vacation, that does not mean we are, he had told her. She huffed a stray hair out of her face defiantly. It seemed like all she ever did anymore was work. A crier abruptly burst into the hall, trumpets blaring as he announced the arrival of a privileged guest. A vision in silk floated forward, the likes of which Nefyn had never seen before. The just king rose like a ghost from his grave-- slowly and dreamily-- absorbing every last detail of her. Her autumnal hair swept up out of her face, the gradient of the silk and the way it draped across her streamlined body. Every square inch dripped in crystals. She certainly had no issue with appearing gaudy and, by the vast amount of cleavage she bore, gave no heed to modesty, either. Edmund skated forward, kissing her hand and guiding her to the seat right beside his. Nefyn watched suspiciously, eyes locked on this strange new guest as she leaned over to ask Lucy, "Who is that?" "That's Edmund's girlfriend!" she chuckled. All the color drained from her brother's face as he paused amidst pushing in Gisèle's chair. Gisèle, however, seemed completely unphased, giggling softly as she scooted herself in the rest of the way. Edmund drunkenly slipped back into his own and shot Lucy a warning glare. Throughout the course of dinner, Gisèle proved to be an absolute delight. Peter and Susan pounded her with question after question but she answered each with as much grace and dignity as the old queens of Narnia themselves. They learned she was a merchant's daughter from one of the Seven Isles, that she travelled frequently, and that she was something called a pescatarian. By dessert, she had blanketed the entire room with her charm. Lucy took great delight in learning all about her, hungry to know every little detail. The duke thought she was a wonderful addition to their little party. Nefyn, however, listened with a quiet disdain. The more she spoke, the less she trusted her, a slow burning flame enveloping her entire being from the inside. "I take it you have friends here in Galma?" Peter asked with a sip of wine. Gisèle shook her head. "Not particularly. I don't think I stay in one place long enough to make many friends!" she replied. Though she laughed, it was clear there were undercurrents of discomfort and shame in her voice. She toyed with her fork, averting her eyes to the empty water glass before her. The clock chimed eight. "I think it's time I took my leave, but I thank you endlessly for your kindness." "Y-you can't leave! You just got here!" Edmund panicked. A sharp kick struck his shin from under the table. Peter glared. "Where are you staying? We'll arrange for an escort to take you home" the High King replied. Again, Gisèle averted her eyes shamefully. "I'm afraid I have no place to stay..." she said dolefully. The moment the words fell from her lips, Edmund shot up out of his seat. "You can stay here! We have plenty of space! You can have my room!" he shouted. All eyes fell on him, shocked. "Edmund, darling, you're far too kind" she replied, cupping his cheek tenderly. "But I'm afraid it would be against my moral compass to accept such a lavish offer. I do hope you understand, yes?" "B-but..." he stammered. "You can't just sleep in the streets!" "Hundreds of people do it every day" Nefyn muttered, voice so low she was barely audible. Still, Gisèle glanced at her awkwardly, almost threateningly. The centaurette pursed her lips and crossed her arms. Who did she think she was, anyway? The duke coughed into his fist and pushed himself out of his seat slowly. "Well, I'm not one to turn away a young woman in a time of need" he replied. "I presume I can make some arrangements for you to spend the night. No questions asked." Despite his record generosity, it was clear that he, too, was unsure of himself in this regard. He called forth one of his servants, instructing them to find an empty guest room and to make Gisèle feel as comfortable as possible. Overexcited, Edmund insisted on joining them, claiming he wanted the best for his guest and would prefer she sleep someplace close to his own chambers. As they departed, the entire dining hall fell into a thoughtful silence. "Alright, does anyone else think this girl is kind of, I don't know, suspicious?" Nefyn finally said. Instinct tempted her to shrink back in response to her own voice, booming through the stillness. Aesop shot his daughter a look of dissatisfaction. He knew she knew better than to speak out of turn. Susan bit her lower lip, index finger skating the rim of her glass. "I know this is going to sound absolutely insane but...but I actually quite enjoyed her company. There's something about her that's rather...enchanting." Lucy grinned, nodding. "I like her, too! She's so pretty!" "I have to admit, she is kind of pleasant" Peter replied. His cheeks tinged red, eyes locked on the napkin in his lap. Though they had only known each other for a day, Peter already knew he wouldn't have minded if Edmund chose to spend the rest of his life with this girl. He admired her, and could already see her fitting in perfectly at Cair Paravel. "Nobody else thinks she's kind of strange?" Nefyn asked. All she received was a bunch of awkward glances and shaking heads in reply. Completely useless. Gisèle was hiding something, she was sure of it. Her explanations were all too formulaic and rehearsed. She wondered if anyone else had noticed her strange behavior at the table, too. The way she tore into her lobster, stirred salt into her drink. "What island did she say she was from?" Lucy asked. "It was some old, elegant name. Evanescence? Emmeline?" Susan pondered. "Evangeline" Nefyn bluntly replied. A grin spread across Lucy's face, the dangerous kind signalling the birth of a brilliant idea. "Maybe we should take her with us! If she's so far from home, we can sail there and return her. We've never been to Evangeline before, anyway." "Do we even know where it is? Or what it's like?" Peter questioned. "I dont' think I've ever heard of it before." A devious expression fell upon Nefyn's face. She rose, planting her palms flat on the table. All eyes landed on her, expecting her to express something wildly important. "I have." Edmund's palms grew clammy as he followed the servant and Gisèle down the hall. A part of him cursed the duke for sending someone along with them, as if they were children in need of supervision. A request for privacy rose into his throat, but he swallowed it back. "Here we are, Miss" the man said, motioning toward the door of a vacant room. Gisèle peered inside, then thanked him humbly. "May I get you anything else, Miss?" he asked. Gisèle shook her head and bid him to take his leave. Once he was out of sight, she turned to Edmund and looked upon him fondly. "Your home is very beautiful" she commented. Edmund blushed, watching her finger skate along the wainscotting. "Well, this isn't actually my home. It's the duke's. I'm just a visitor." "Oh? Then where is your home?" she asked. "In Narnia." A strange expression flickered upon her face, one that Edmund couldn't quite decipher. "And you live there with the others?" Edmund nodded. "In the castle, on the shore." "You are the king" she declared definitively. "Just king, though. My brother Peter's the High King." "And the two women?" "My sisters, Queen Susan and Queen Lucy." "Not the High Queen?" "No, not the High Queen. That title is reserved for the wife of the High King." "Your brother is married then." A swell of discomfort washed over him at the direction this was going. The last thing he wanted was for Gisèle to pursue an interest in Peter. Clasping his hands behind his back, he slowly replied, "No..." Gisèle laughed, sensing his concern. "He must be a very fine king indeed to have devoted so much time to his country rather than a wife. I hope his brother is not nearly as prudent." Relief swept over Edmund's face, muscles relaxing. She rested a cool hand upon his shoulder and his entire body ignited. "Well, I-I don't think I am" he stammered. "If I may be so bold, I don't think you are, either" she said. They chuckled before slipping into a profound silence, their unspoken words hanging in the air. Every second, Gisèle inched closer until her warm breath flushed against his neck. His hands itched and his legs grew weak. There was something about this that felt unclean, forbidden. His mind flashed back to the White Witch and her Turkish delight. She ran a hand up his arm and leaned in close, and Edmund almost expected her to kiss him. His heart leapt into his throat. She eyed his lips. Licking her own, she then asked, "Where might the bathroom be?" After so much build up, Edmund had scarcely expected such a query. He stumbled over his words before offering to guide her there himself, kicking himself for thinking she would ever do such a thing in the first place. She followed close behind, hands clasped in front of her, steps quick and purposeful. When they arrived, she thanked him and then slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. So much for that. The young king lingered a moment, hearing the light thud of her clothes hitting the floor and the rush of running water. Arousing visions clouded his mind. He shoved them away as quickly as they came. With a deep breath, he ran back to the dining hall before he could let himself make a mistake. "It's such a lovely night" Lucy sighed, resting her chin in her hands. In the meantime, the party had migrated to the balcony. The air was too fresh and the skies were too clear to not take advantage of. Susan agreed, but regretted her inability to fully enjoy it. Her mind was troubled, and she couldn't halt the unending thoughts. Aesop had interrupted his daughter right before she could reach the meat of her speech. He said that young healers have no business speaking of politics and the like, that it was not her place to pry. Even without making her full point, however, something in her words jarred them from a dream they didn't realize they were involved in. Suddenly, everything seemed a little more clear and a little more concerning. Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all. If only they had gotten more information, but in her frustration, Nefyn stormed out of the room and hadn't been seen since. "And what a lovely night it is, indeed" the duke commented, patting Peter on the back heartily. "If you ask me, this is the kind of night made for lovers. Full moon, not a cloud in the sky." Peter squirmed beneath his suggestive eye, shrugging out from under his touch. "It's not always about love" he muttered. "What's this, you say? Didn't you have a girl last you were here?" the duke questioned. "What was her name? Eleanor? Alessandra?" "Eilonwy." "Yes! Eilonwy! You two seemed very fond of each other. I hope all is well with you both. Wherever is she, anyhow?" Ideally, the duke envisioned her happily at home, a ring on her finger and in highly delicate condition. His only offense was not being invited to the wedding, but it was a matter he was willing to overlook. "Gone" Peter said bluntly. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about. "Gone?" the duke repeated. "Gone where?" "That's just the thing, sir" Lucy stepped in. "We don't know." A troubled expression crossed the duke's face. He opened his mouth to ask for elaboration but Peter quickly cut him off. "Eilonwy's gone and we have no idea where she is. We doubt she's ever going to come back so we've given up hope and decided to drop the subject altogether. She never belonged in Cair Paravel anyway." There was a harshness in the High King's tone that even his sisters hadn't expected. But Peter was tired of repeating the explanation. It seemed like everywhere he went, someone was always asking questions. It was almost as if they were automatically conjoined, Eilonwy and he, treated like a package deal: always together so that when apart, the universe felt off-kilter and strange. Before any more could be discussed of the subject, Edmund sauntered into the scene. "There you are, Edmund!" Lucy exclaimed. "We almost thought you got flushed down the toilet!" "Unfortunately not" he muttered. He elbowed his way to the railing and looked out upon the vast sea. His dewy face shimmered in the moonlight, hands trembling at his sides. "Ed, are you alright? You look like you're going to be sick" Susan commented, resting the back of her hand to his forehead. "What's gotten into you?" "I'm fine. Really" he protested. "Just tired, that's all." Susan pursed her lips, unconvinced, but before she could say more, Peter stepped forward. "Ed, we need to talk with you" he said, motioning for his brother to sit. Edmund obliged. Peter sucked in a breath. "To make this brief, we're worried about you." "Worried? Why?" he asked. "You've been acting so strange since the...incident" Susan replied, skirting around her words. "We've been thinking a lot lately, and we're not so sure that Gisèle is the greatest influence on you, either" Peter continued. At this, a look of pure disgust crossed Edmund's face. "Just listen to us for a minute, alright? I know you think you saw her when you went under, and that she's this fantastical mermaid or something, but you've seen the mermaids at Cair Paravel. They look nothing like this girl. How do you know we can trust her? I just don't know if all of this is a very good idea." Edmund remained silent for a moment, grimacing back at his siblings. "You heard what she said at dinner: she's poor. She has no place to stay. Are you really willing to cast some homeless woman out for the sake of your own fear? There's nothing wrong with Gisèle! Regardless of whether I saw her down there or not, that was a sign. I was meant to meet her. We were meant to cross paths. She makes me happy, and I to her, so I can't see why you have to criminalize this!" he shouted. "Ed, we just--" Susan began, but her brother interrupted again before she could finish. "And besides, when you all met Eilonwy, she was poor and had no place to go either but you lot accepted her into the group perfectly fine! So why can't you give Gisèle the same treatment?" "Hey!" Peter shouted, face reddening. "That was completely different! You weren't there, you don't know!" "Peter, please" Susan murmured, resting a hand on his shoulder, but the High King shoved it off. "I've made my point, Pete. I'm not backing down. Gisèle is harmless, and I refuse to believe otherwise" Edmund protested. He stood on tiptoes to meet Peter's face, staring at him with cold eyes before knocking over the garden chair and storming back inside. Truthfully, Edmund was beyond belief. He expected a little hesitance but this? This was out of control. He couldn't fathom how his siblings could possibly be so unwelcoming. They were just too cynical. They had no compassion. They had no right. With clenched fists, Edmund stormed toward his chamber determined to avoid the others at all costs. His plan was quickly foiled, however, by a most curious diversion. A sliver of light sliced through the hall, enveloped in an alluring melody. The just cocked his head to the side, inching closer. His palms sweated as he slowly peeked through the crack in the doorway. The bathroom was bathed in moonlight but with his vision obstructed, he could only see bits and pieces of the scene. Red hair cascaded over the edge of the tub, a lazy hand grazing the marble floors. A pile of fabric sat crumpled at the base of the sink. "Come to me, my errant king! My bold little boy, my noble king" a lyrical voice called. Edmund immediately stepped forward and slipped inside. He had never seen a naked woman before, but he knew this was not typical. Gisèle lounged in the porcelain tub, her face and skin shimmering wet. Locks of hair censored her bare breasts. From the waist upward, she appeared how one might expect but at her hip bones, the flesh faded into a cool blue and her legs joined together as one. A massive fin flopped over the side of the clawfoot, the long tendrils on either end dangling to the floor. She hummed softly, dreamily, running a golden comb through her hair. "Darling, you seem stunned" she cooed. "Come closer, sit with me a while. Please." Edmund nodded absently and did as he was told. He knelt beside her, trying to fill as little space as possible. His eyes remained locked on the strange tail she had sprouted. He wanted to speak, but words failed him. Every time he tried, he got nothing but incomprehensible babbling. She wrinkled her nose when she laughed and rested a finger upon his lips to quiet him. "You act as if we haven't met this way before" she jested. "I knew it!" Edmund gasped. "I knew that was you!" "Who else might it be, dear?" Gisèle asked. "My brother and sisters refused to believe you were real but you are!" he exclaimed. The young king erupted with happiness. He wanted to run and scream and more than anything, to shove this in his sibling's faces. They deserved to be patronized. It was only fair. The siren could tell he was about to explode, however, and grasped his hand on the side of the tub desperately. "You mustn't say a word of this, my love!" she whispered. "This is not a public affair. My circumstances are bleak, and if anyone was to find out about this, I would surely be done for. You don't want to cause my downfall, do you?" Edmund gazed at her with wide eyes, shaking his head. "I hoped not" she smiled, drawing him nearer. "You know, I've never met a mermaid before. Or at least not a real one" he said. "Do you not have mermaids in Narnia?" Gisèle questioned. "No, no, we do. But none like you" Edmund replied. "Oh?" she replied. "What are they like in your country?" "Well, for starters, they're a lot more fish than human. They have gills, and their entire bodies are scaly and blue. They've got big, googly eyes and they open and close their mouths all the time, which makes them look kind of stupid. And they can't wander onto land whenever they feel like it." Gisèle gazed upon him with disdain, as if she felt sorry for the sad excuses for mermaids that he knew of. "Well, perhaps one day I can take you to my homeland and show you what a real mermaid cove looks like." "Really? I would love that! You know, we can go right now! Or, tomorrow, I mean. My brother and sisters and I are leaving for another island in the morning, and you're more than welcome to come with us if you'd like! We can take you home!" Edmund rambled. His friend furrowed her brows and shook her lips. "What did I tell you about keeping quiet?" she whined. The young king's face blushed, muttering a quiet sorry. They sat in an awkward silence for a few moments afterward, Edmund unsure of what else to say. Before he could do anything, however, Gisèle suddenly groaned and dunked her head underwater, air bubbles surfacing from her mouth. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets and slapped her fin against the floor. "A-are you alright...?" Edmund asked. Her outburst made him nervous, and he didn't know what was wrong or what to do to make things better. She returned to the surface and leaned against the back of the tub, shaking her head. "Everything's fine, I just...I hate being forced to keep so many secrets." "Wait, what do you mean by forced?" Edmund asked. "Whose forcing you?" The young king suddenly grew defensive. If someone was doing her wrong, he needed to know. He felt obligated to protect her. "It's my father" she sighed. "He's not really a poor merchant, but a nobleman. He rules the lordship of Evangeline, or it's undersea regime." "So that makes you nobility then" Edmund concluded. Gisèle nodded sadly. "A noble without a limpet to her name." "Limpet?" "Our currency. You see, the merchant part was a lie but the poverty is all too true. My father has gone bankrupt and without help, our community shall surely perish. Father has grown cruel in his distress, fearing what shall become of him. I was meant to marry rich to save our land but fate was not so kind. He banished me but I hold no ill will toward him. I took advantage of my punishment to travel far and wide, venturing on land to sing in the streets hoping to earn some spare change. I assume that if I can earn some money, it will redeem me of my transgressions and my father will accept me back into his home with open arms and our kingdom will be saved. It's the least I can do, though I can't say I've been very successful. It's quite a tragedy, indeed." Edmund listened intently, his heart breaking for her. "Well, maybe Narnia can help. We have plenty of money. I'm sure if I just spoke to my siblings, they'd understand" he exclaimed. "Oh, Edmund, my dear, you're far too kind" Gisèle replied, cupping his cheek. She looked upon him with such gentle affection, Edmund couldn't help but melt. "You are truly too kind to me, but I couldn't possibly accept. Your money would do me no good anyhow. But you are really too sweet, my love. So sweet, and so kind..." Edmund's eyes grew heavy as he nuzzled her palm, her thumb caressing his cheek. A dreamy smile touched his lips, whispering, "But I want to help you, even if it's the last thing I do." Endeared, she guided him closer and rested her forehead against his. "Edmund, my love, you must be my only friend in the world" she whispered back. "Truly, you are the kindest king I've had the pleasure of knowing. So gentle, and generous, and sweet..." The waves lapped diligently against the shore, the full moon glowing overhead. Nefyn stamped the sand in frustration, desperate to scream but not wanting to draw attention to herself. Everyone had no doubt retired to their rooms by now, and the last thing she needed was to wake them and face their scorn. Or at least that of her father. He truly perplexed her. Why would he force her to suppress the truth? Especially when the kings and queens lives were at stake. This was a serious matter and she saw no point in keeping secrets. But she was tired, and it was late. Nothing else could be done for the rest of the night, so she concluded that there was no point in worrying further. Whatever she was to do, it would have to wait until morning. For now, she resolved to sleep, or at least try to. As she reached the top of the stairs, a strange tune immediately captured her attention. She was careful not to make too much noise as she inched nearer. She pressed her ear against the bathroom door, straining to comprehend the music. My dear king Young one so bold You're worth your weight In silver and gold Not even all the jewels in the world Could compare to your kindness Like the rarest of pearls. Sing me your praises Or your sorrows, your fears And I will kiss away Your saltwater tears Bring me your fortunes And give me your hand Sing me your songs Draw masterpieces in the sand... Nefyn recognized the voice immediately. She carefully peered closer hoping to catch a glimpse of the scene, of the proof she knew she needed, but her heart sank the second she got what she wanted. First there was Gisèle, her voice haunting and clear. Then she saw him, her dearest friend in the world, his face mere inches from this siren's. She gasped, jumping back and pressing against the wall desperate to disappear. Being found was not her concern. Rushing down the hall, she dove into her own chamber and hid beneath her blankets, burying her face within the lumps of her pillow. Her heart pounded against her chest, her mind whirling. She reminded herself that this was exactly what she wanted, that she should feel proud that she was right all along, but truthfully nothing felt worse than this. A rancid taste filled her mouth as she replayed the scene over and over in her head. And all of this could've simply been avoided if her father had just let her speak. Now, her dearest friend in the world was in grave danger and she had no idea what to do about it. She needed to speak to someone lest she explode. Guzzling the glass of water on her bedside table, she wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and snuck into the hallway to find the only other person who she was certain would listen to her. The bathroom door slowly creaked open and a young boy shuffled out into the hall. Dazed, he disappeared into the darkness. The tub drained. The lights flickered. A robed figure leaned in the doorway, running a golden comb through her fiery hair. Her ears picked up the sound of frantic hoofs and chatter and a sick satisfaction spread across her chest. "Well, I guess I'm going to have to dispose of more than just Edmund now."

#t: futgt #t: futgt c: seventeen #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #fanfiction #narniaff

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