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pennyserenade · 3 years

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tags: nameless oc x javier peña, nameless oc x javier pena, angst rating: e ( explicit ) warnings: smut, language. word count: 3k+ summary: marriage requires sacrifice; theirs takes a little more than most notes: i definitely did steal the title of this chapter from the original scenes from a marriage and you know what? i’d do it again. anyways, thanks for reading and i hope you enjoy this installment! if you want to be tagged in this series, just shoot me a message or fill out my taglist form that’s available on my masterlist (pinned post). original gif by: @javierpcna

the art of sweeping things under the rug

scene two, scenes from a marriage

Wedding bands can vary in weight depending on the sort of week you’re having, she finds. Conveniently light, sometimes--nearly invisible, as if intertwined with oneself--and then, impossibly dense at others. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, she tells herself, but she’s on no throne, and there is no crown. It’s just her and Javi, and the elopement that tied them together.

The ‘70s had faded silently into the ‘80, and it’s easy to feel in love when the future looks promising. Well--maybe promising is too generous of a word for what they had felt then; perhaps uncertain is better. It wasn’t the sort of uncertain that fills one with dread either, the kind that leaves them in the dark with no flashlight. No, it was the uncertainty that felt good; the sort that made them think whatever was offered in the decade they’d not yet painted with plans was going to be great. It was promises of catching Pablo, promises of a promotion, promises of a proper marriage in the country they’d come to love in their own separate and shared ways. It was realists sharing one optimistic view in a world that seemed so void of them, and now, as she sits at the dinner table in her apartment, looking at the thin band on her finger, she wonders if they’d rushed into it

Her mother told her a mal tiempo, buena cara. In bad times, keep a good face. Just grin and bare it, wait for the uneasiness of the life they were living now to trickle into the marriage she anticipated, but she isn’t sure what sort of marriage she was anticipating. She had understood that there were going to be hardships, but she had welcomed them then because she thought they were going to be hardships they would endure together. They weren’t doing a very good job at the together.

It isn’t that she doesn’t love him. She has an unwavering love for him, but the absence of his being in her life has begun to create a festering wound in her heart. She’s torn between asking him to never leave again—to quit it all and stay wrapped in bed with her, pretending the horrors outside of their utopia didn’t exist—and saying nothing at all. Grinning and bearing.

He’s a good man. A great man, actually. He’s gentle, funny. A little too stressed for his own good most of the time, and a bit grumpy until he settles somewhere, but he’s exactly what she needs, and everything that could break her if he so wanted it, too. And she knows he never would want that, but she isn’t sure he knows he can either, because if he did, then he was tiptoeing dangerously close to that line.

Sighing, she shakes her head, dismissing it all.

The afternoon has begun to fade into the evening, and the cool summer wind blows a gentle breeze into her home. Javier said he wouldn’t be working late at the Embassy tonight, and she had told him she’d cook dinner, but the eagerness that had overtaken her then had been worn by the sight of his wedding band on her dresser. It was the thing that made hers seem so heavy. The thing that made her want to cry, really, and it was so silly, but she could not help the angry ball of frustration and confusion that formed at the sigh of it, or the way it had turned into the lump in her throat.

She yearns for the days when it was just fucking—the way they hadn’t exchanged anything personal so nothing could be personal. She misses the way he would call her, flustered, at all hours of the night and the way she’d always open her door for him, and they’d kiss passionately and fuck roughly and explore each other over and over.

But really, she doesn’t want that, either. She doesn’t know what she wants.

She hears the jangle of keys, hears the latch open, but she doesn’t turn to meet him. Instead, she’s lit a cigarette, and she’s staring out the window, looking at how the sun shadows the town. She puffs away at the cigarette and he says nothing when he enters. He just throws his keys on the counter and then moves quietly over to her, hands falling to her tense shoulders. She hates the way she leans into him too; how effortlessly the anger ebbs.

She looks up at him, and he smiles gently. He looks worn, as though he’s fighting something that she won’t learn until the early hours of the morning, when he’s spent from spent from sex and the general excitement that paints all of his days. Javi is interesting in that way—not emotionally stunted, but hesitant.

“You didn’t make dinner?” he asks while pushing her hair away from her neck, pressing his lips there quickly. He nuzzles against her for a beat, taking in her scent, feeling the warmth of her against him in gratitude. He is spent, and he’s wanted nothing more than to come here. Doesn’t even really care that she’s not made him dinner, just said it to hear her.

“I didn’t,” she responds, more softly than she likes. Her heart is tender for him, kind naturally because his being warrants it. She wants to yell, but she can’t because she loves him so goddamn much.

“S’okay,” he mumbles. Javi moves away from her, slipping off his jacket and sitting it on the chair. “We can order something later if you want.”

She nods, putting out the cigarette. “When do you have to go back in?”

“Six tomorrow morning. What about you?”

“I took tomorrow off.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “¿Por qué?”

“Because,” she shrugs. “Only so much depressing material you can write until it starts to wear you down.”

“You know I said—“

She cuts him off. “I don’t want to live off your paycheck. I know what you said but I’m happy doing what I do. Just—“ she pauses, struggling to think. “—not all of us can give our lives over to the cause all the time.”

She meant that, meant that entirely, and knows he feels it by the way his features settle into a look of pure nothingness. Stoned face, giving nothing. She’s sorry for it, but can’t say it. He doesn’t ask for her to.

“Cruelty doesn’t look so good on you, baby,” he tries to tease, but it comes out flat and serious. She bites at her lip, and turns her head to the window, back to the city, trying not to cry.

“Are you angry with me?”

He’s a good detective, isn’t he?

“Javi, I don’t want to fight.”

“You are angry with me.”

She sighs heavily. “No, I’m not.”

“You are, and I wish you’d just say why.”

“It doesn’t even matter, Javi,” she dismisses it with a simple shrug of her shoulders. “You’ve been at work all day and—“

“Is it because I work so much?” he interrupts.

“Goddamnit, Javier, I’m not fucking angry with you!” she shouts. Shouts like she is angry with him. Silence ensues and she wants to crawl in a hole and disappear completely.

“You left your wedding ring,” she admits quietly, half out of remorse, half because she can’t stand the way he’s looked down at the table and not looked back up. Or how he sits like he’s torn between fleeing and staying. “But it really doesn’t matter, and I don’t know why it bothers me so much because I know you...you don’t mean to hurt me.”

“No,” he shakes his head. He still does not look at her, focusing on a line in the table. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Javi, I said it didn’t matter.”

“But it does.” He finally looks up. “It matters if it makes you angry with me. I left it because I forgot, that’s all.”

“I said it doesn’t matter.”

“You never fucking fight me.”

“There’s no reason for it,” she replies.

“There is reason for it.”

“Javi, please. I don’t get you for very long and this is not how I want to spend it.”

“Stop doing that.”

“What?” Confusion paints her features.

“Running from it. Fight with me.”

“Why do you want to fight so fucking bad? When you’d turn into such a fucking masochist.”

She feels that lump in her throat again, feels the way it wants to give way and lets it all go the way he’s requesting. Fills the bitterness creep into her system the way she hates.

“I’m not a masochist,” he replies, “You’ve obviously got shit to say, so say it.”

“Fuck you, Javi,” she chokes, blinking back tears now. She definitely did not want this.

She gets up to move, but he grasps onto her wrist.

“Don’t run away,” he repeats. He’s angry too.

“Let me go,” she spits out spitefully. He has such a loose hold on her that she doesn’t even need his permission to escape from it, but it’s the concept more than anything. He does let go, but she doesn’t move.

“I didn’t want to fight with you.”

Her cheeks begin to heat with anger, and it’s the worst sort of anger, the kind that makes her sob because she can’t contain it. It’s an anger that feels unfair, and she can never beat it; the tears begin to fall rapidly.

Sympathy tugs at his heart; his steely resolution falls as quickly as it has come up. “I know,” he acknowledges. “We’ve got to fight, sometimes, though.”

“I know, but I don’t want to. I only see you two days a week and I don’t want to spend one of them yelling at you,” she confesses. “All I want you, Javi. Is that so much to ask?”

It’s his turn for shame to fill him. He knows why that can’t be—knows it’s because there’s things she can’t know and having her in a building full of DEA agents comprises the both of them. She’s in danger just wearing that wedding band on her finger; God forbid any of those fucking narcs ever found out they were married. He shouldn’t have done it, married her, but he could not help it; a sort of selfishness that was not uncharacteristic had pushed the boundaries within him, and he decided the good outweighed the bad. But, maybe it didn’t.

He stands and envelops her frame in a hug. She sighs into his chest and wraps her arms tightly around him. She only wants to make him happy and to be happy with him. Why did it seem so hard? When this all began, it felt so easy, so nice and now it felt hard.

Javier kisses her softly, just a peck and she feels lighter because of it. As he goes to pull away, she pulls him closer again, pressing their lips together. He responds, a hand resting on her hip and the other on the small of her back, holding her against him. She initiates a deeper kiss, swiping her tongue against his lower lip. They stand like this for a few minutes, kissing and basking in the presence of each other the way they’d both desired.

It is Javi who pulls back from their kiss, needing air and wanting to take it further—just not here. In the beginning of their relationship, when it was just fucking, sex felt something they had to do everywhere; on the couch, on the table, on the counter, in the shower, on the ground, even in front of the window. And they still did that, still let spontaneity sway them, but they’d settled into more comfortable routines too. He liked fucking her in their bed, the one thing they always agreed was undeniably both of theirs wherever it resided. It was their bed so as long as they both fell there to sleep.

He doesn’t even have to speak, just nods his head in the general direction, before she’s tugging him along.

She sits down on the bed and peers up at him, eyes still red from the tears. He feels awful about it, but doesn’t have it in him to say it. Can’t, for some reason. It’s lost between his brain and his tongue, but it finds its way out through the gentle way he presses her onto her back and lets his lips kiss her everywhere. He kisses her face, her lips, then her neck, and then he goes further, pushing her shirt up and pressing his plush lips against the newly exposed flesh. Then he then he’s undoing her pants, kissing the spot where her panties usually begin. He offers her a mischievous grin, and she smiles back at him.

“You really didn’t want to fight, did you?”

She shakes her head. “No, you fuck, I didn’t,” she laughs.

He continues his trail down her body, and she lifts her hips so he can remove her pants. Javier presses his lips on her hips, on the flesh directly above the pubic bone. Then, he presses them on the inside of her thighs, teasingly slow when he gets closer to her core, and she whines out of protest when he spots. Her eyes flicker down to see why, and when her eyes met his, he presses his tongue against her clit. A moan escapes her and she grasps onto the bedspread. Javi is encouraged by this, swiping his tongue against her folds, dipping his tongue into her, tasting her—really, truly admiring every part of her—before pressing his tongue back onto her clit. He begins to suck gently, and she writhes without control beneath him. A trained expert at this now, he anchors her down by wrapping an arm around each thigh, holding them in place.

“Javi—“ she manages to say, just as the tension begins to build in her stomach. “Oh Javi, baby, faster.”

He obliges and she is quick to find her release in a matter of seconds. Javi remains in between her thighs, licking up her arousal. He’s gotten good at this, knows the way she likes it, knows how to do it even when she can’t tell him.

She carts a hand through his hair, tugging gently, and he removes his lips from her finally. Despite her worn state, she’s quick to rise and meet him, uncaring about her arousal on his face as she presses their lips together once more. He kisses her back with more need than he previously had, his jeans feel tighter and more constricting than usual.

“I want to ride you,” she whispers against his lips, and he nods eagerly. Her fingers work at his belt, and then the button of his jeans, hardly making it past the zipper before she slides her hand into his pants and palms his already hard member. He winces against her lips and she can’t help but grin; this is her Javi. This is the marriage she wants.

“Te amo,” she says, beginning to tug at his jeans. He assists her, pushing them down all the way.

“Take off your shirt,” he demands, tugging at the fabric. She obeys him, throwing the shirt in the same place his pants fell, before he tugs her closer to him. A gasp falls from her lips as she mounts him, the warmth of his length agonizing so close to her heat. She reaches between them, lining his cock up to her entrance. Eyes connect as she fills herself with him, and his mouth falls open, desperate to moan but too choked by the feeling of her around him. She moves slowly, not wanting to release the warmth of him yet in favor of forming a steady pace to ride him. Javi, however, is growing increasingly aroused beneath her, and can’t help the way he guides her on his cock. “Please,” he begs, brown eyes dark with desire. She nods, and they move together, her hips following his hands instructions.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, watching the way he slides in and out of her. “I’m not going to last much longer, baby.”

Distracted by her own desire, she merely nods his confession, grinding herself on him until she fills the beginnings of another orgasm, the sweet release inches away. He doesn’t lift her from himself now, wanting to savor this feeling for a few moments longer. “Te amo,” he finally responds back, a deep groan releasing at the way she squeezes around him. She grinds against him, and he lets her, allowing his finger to undo the bra they’d both been too eager to take off as she does. It falls slowly down her chest, and as soon as it exposes her nipple, he’s quick to wrap his mouth around it. This earns a throaty moan from her, and she swears her orgasm isn’t ever going to end.

He pulls the fabric down her arms completely before turning them over, never leaving her once. He is desperate now, denied his orgasm too long, and the heat is pooling viciously in his stomach. He thrusts roughly into her, a whine emitting from her lips when he does, but she lifts her hips to meet him the second time he does it.

“Faster, baby,” she encourages, and he presses his fingers into her hips so hard that he’s certain the skin will bruise as he thrusts into her for the last time.

He slides out of her, and with a few more rough tugs on his cock, he’s releasing on her stomach. He wants to lay beside her, flat and lifeless as his lugs play catch up (it’s the fucking cigarettes, but he can’t stop them), but he resists the urge. He leans towards the bed stand and grabs a handful of tissues, wiping himself and her clean of his cum. She lays still, watching him intently, a soft, appreciative smile embedding in her features.

“I miss you a lot, you know,” she says. He throws the tissues away in the bin across the room, and she takes in his frame; admires the way his back looks, the broadness of his shoulders, even his ass. He’s a good looking man, on top of everything, and she’s happy to be his wife. She just wishes it was easier.

“I do know. I miss you too.”

He slides back into bed, uncaring of his nakedness, and she uncaring of hers. He pulls her bare body against him, and she wraps a leg around her hip. She traces his lips with her finger and he takes her hand, kissing the palm of it.

He loves her, loves her so goddamn much that the guilt of the wedding ring on her dresser eats away at him. It bites and bites because the way he’s so casually lied about why he left it, acted as if it wasn’t deliberate. Doesn’t want to tell he’s afraid they’ll find out if he doesn’t, doesn’t want to have to worry about if she’s okay anymore than he does already. He calls her every night, checks in at the same time so he knows nothing is wrong, and she knows he does this, but there’s a thousand things she doesn’t see. A thousand things he doesn’t want her to see, either, like the way he left the wedding band because he’s afraid or the way he drives past her house every night before he goes to his, just to ensure it’s still there, even though he knows it is. Doesn’t want her to see the anxiety that fills him every time he hears about a bombing or the way he can’t sleep when he goes away. He wants their marriage to be perfectly normal, wants it all to be perfectly normal. Colombia deserves to be a country where marriages don’t feel this hard, and that’s all he wants to give her, but he can’t.

As she lays against him, she can feel the tension in his body, knowing by the way he holds her a little too firmly that he’s thinking about something. She wants to ask about what, but she doesn’t want to spoil the moment.

They’ve both become experts at sweeping things under the rug—at sacrificing—and neither of them knows whether it’s good or not, but they’ll continue to do it. Lie causally in order to protect, not address the pain and disorder, just for moments like this, moments that feel entirely like their own. Moments that make them feel married and dedicated to one another.

This is scene two from a marriage.

tagged: @filthybookworm

#javier peña x oc #javier peña x reader #javier pena x oc #javier pena x reader #javier pena x nameless oc #narcos fanfic #narcos fic

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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

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Follower Recs

Stories I haven’t read yet, but clearly need to put on my ever-expanding List.

~*~

Welcome back queen [Thank you, it’s so lovely to be back!] if ur still doing follower recs I gotta recommend I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett it’s soooooooo good

[This one was actually recced to me by two different people, the other of whom said, “ Maybe I'm crying a little so I feel like a should recommend ‘I would wait for a thousand years’ by bleuett on ao3.”]... it’s def. on my List!

I would wait for a thousand years

by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian)

Summary: During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair.

“Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.”

“I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.”

“And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.”

~*~

I just read a great fic by aisthuu "every love story is a ghost story", didn't see it in your recs so wanted to recommend it! LWJ is a guqin composer and teacher, buys a cheap guqin off eBay which ends up being attached to WWX's spirit from canon era. It's bittersweet, LWJ deals with Lan's homophobia (implicit in a Lan way) and his feelings towards the ghost. This is author's only ao3 fic and honestly I don't remember how I stumbled upon it, but I'm happy I did and hope you will enjoy it too! [I’ve recently read this one, and loved it!]

every love story is a ghost story

by aisthuu (M, 59k, wangxian, my bookmark)

Summary: The man is in Lan Zhan’s bed. Did they—he begins to wonder, eyes trailing to where the man’s body lies under the blanket. Had Lan Zhan—?

Then the sleep-fog clears and Lan Zhan realizes that the young man isn’t quite opaque around the edges.

“You’re a spirit.”

The spirit narrows its eyes. “I’m so much more than that.”

(Lan Zhan buys a guqin off eBay for a suspiciously low price, only to find that it’s haunted. And now there’s a ghost in his bed.)

~*~

Ok so I absolutely have to rec "see you yesterday" by glyphic. It's a wip, but it's currently at 101k so there's a whole lot there, and it's terrible and wonderful and beautiful all at once. The way the backstory of canon events is adapted to the modern-with-cultivation setting is brilliant, and then there's the amnesia, and then there's the time loop. This fic lives permanently rent-free in my brain.

see you yesterday

by glyphic (M, 101k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:

Wei Ying 21:09 hey lan zhan what’s the weirdest way youve died

Lan Zhan 21:11 Falling encyclopedias.

Wei Ying 21:12 omg no way that’s so rude turning books against you???

Lan Zhan 21:13 A betrayal I will never forget.

On Halloween night, an exiled demonic cultivator and a Lan disciple get stuck in a time-loop, find each other, and try to figure it all out.

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If you are looking for recs for yourself I absolutely love (the complete!) story Just as the Snow Melts by draechali on AO3. It's a canon divergence where everyone lives, even WWX! ~ @airmidcelt

Just as the Snow Melts

by draechaeli (T, 67k, wangxian)

Summary: Like a snowy mountain top in spring the residents of the Burial Mounds trickled down the mountain and joined the flow of society.

“I went to the Burial Mounds,” Lan WangJi said.

“Ah, yeah… I’m sorry Lan Zhan,” replied Wei WuXian, “I hadn’t thought anyone would come to visit. I am still not sure how it happened; I brought A-Yuan to Yiling to play by the river and then ended up somehow teaching a bunch of children swimming and writing along with him.”

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Hello! It's come to my attention that you have not as yet read Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation! Please do! It's the only thing that gave me joy during 2020 😆 like proper belly laughs and disney villain style cackling. It is a wip, and it is long but so so worth it!! The author has reworked the entire canon through these message crystals and still conveys complex characters despite the tricky format. It's just so good!! Highly highly recommend it! ❤ ~ @theladypeartree [Oh! I’ve been subscribed to this one, and know that @swaglexander-the-great is a reliable provider of Hilarity, so I’m excited for it to be finished!]

Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation

by Hades_the_Blingking (T, 49k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: The Untamed universe is exactly the same, except everybody has magical crystals that have a suspiciously familiar messaging system. The story is pretty much the same as the show, except everyone lives!! (so minor changes).

or in which Wei WuXian tries his darndest to date Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng possibly has a aneurysm, Jin ZiXuan is still the most awkward human alive, and Xue Yang makes me write some VERY cursed things. Written in chatfic format! :3

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Chomrafy on AO3 deserves love and encouragement; she’s written a body of compact, poetic, and eloquent shortfics each of which can stand alone, but that comprise an intricately cross-referential and mostly internally-consistent universe. They’re grouped as chapters in works according to theme; for example, “in cupped hands” focuses upon Jin Ling and his second-generation baggage; “Departure in Autumn” portrays the last years of WWX’s first life. Follow the tag “Chomrafy’s MDZS shortfics.” [I don’t see this tag?]

in cupped hands

by chomrafy (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary: Of secrets, of futures, of love. A Jin Ling-centric collection of 200-word fics.

Ch.1: Jin Ling repays a debt (JL, JC, & WWX). Ch.2: Jin Ling and a ghost in the mirror. (JL & JYL) Ch.3: A matter of friends (JL & the other kids) Ch.4: In this house we don't keep dogs (JC & WWX) Ch.5: In the end, he remains silent (JL & uncles) Ch.6: A first night hunt, of sorts (JL & the other kids) Ch.7: Jin Ling, forgiving, forgetting (JL & LXC & JGY) Ch.8: Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling argue (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.9: Jin Ling and his father (JL & JC) Ch.10: Jin Ling speaks up (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.11: Jin Ling and a piece of home (JL, JC, & WWX)

Departure in Autumn

by chomrafy (not rated, 6k)

Summary: Four perspectives. A steady march to the end.

Ch.1: Because if anything happens to them, Wen Qing would never be able to heal with these hands again. Ch.2: As long as this is still home, Jiang Yanli will wait as long as she needs to. Ch.3: Five times Jiang Cheng reaches for Wei Wuxian, one time he turns away. Ch.4: Whether the road is broad or narrow, bright or dark, they would have to keep walking. Wei Wuxian digs Wen Qing's grave.

~*~

Hello, hope all is going well. I don't have an ask, by I do have a recommendation. I read this fic a while ago and found it again. I just wanted to recommend this for everyone. Let me know what you think please. Thank you. [Oh! This one’s in my To Read list, but I’d forgotten about it. Mmmm, fox!wwx and dragon!lwj.]

Ten miles of Lotus Flowers

by Yukirin_Snow

M, 274k, wangxian

Summary: He was a mischievous fox spirit, wreaking havoc where he went, about to depart on a journey that would span centuries.

He was a heavenly prince, a proud dragon destined to ascend the throne to become emperor.

Neither expected their paths to collide over the span of three lives.

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I forgot if it was your blog 😥 that recommended “Bestseller” (when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528316/chapters/51318766)

But OMG IT WAS HILARIOUS!!! I LOVED IT!! And if it wasn’t your blog, I’m so sorry for how weird this sounds 😭😭😭😭 I just loved this fic so much that I have to tell it to someone 😢 [It’s on my List, but I haven’t read it yet!]

Bestseller

by pupeez4eva

M, 8k, wangxian

Summary: He had written the book to prove a point. It was never supposed to be a big thing, and he certainly never intended for everyone — Jiang Cheng, Zewu-Jun, the Juniors, literally everyone— to be reading about his sex life.

Oh God, he definitely needed to make sure Lan Zhan didn’t find out about this.

(Or, when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit).

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I’d like to rec On Your Marks, Get Set, Bake! by @blackwiresgrowonherhead

It’s one of my absolute favorites and I laughed out loud so many times when reading it

on your marks, get set, bake!

by BlackWiresOnHerHead

G, 41k, wei wuxian & juniors

Summary: Jin Ling resumes thumping on the door to room 721, and the small collection of freshmen starts chanting “Senior Wei! Senior Wei! Senior Wei!” with increasing volume until finally Wei Wuxian opens the door.

“Yes?” he says with his widest, most innocent eyes.

“Senior Wei!” demands Lan Jingyi, shoving himself to the front of the group. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re a contestant on this year’s season of The Great Gusu Bake Off?!?”

Several months ago, college student Wei Wuxian secretly competed in the most popular reality show in the country. The show starts airing in the fall. The freshmen in his dorm collectively lose their minds.

~*~

If you're in the mood for v. short ridiculous fun fic, may I suggest My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio by x_los It's 2k modern cultivators AU, featuring WWX calling LWJ's sword Bitchin' [omg I’m laughing so hard] and I think it's more fun going in blind?

My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio

by x_los

T, 2k, wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji finds he doesn't even need to call for help for Wei Wuxian to come running.

#follower rec #wangxian fic rec #I HAVEN'T READ THESE YET #wangxian #mdzs

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idnek83 · 3 years

Text

First Christmas

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham

Tags: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Lots of causal smooching, No Smut, Implied Sexual Content, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair

Summary: Soda and Gundham get ready for their first Christmas together. It's not much, and they definitely spent too much on questionable decorations, but, somehow, it's still perfect.

Read on Ao3

__________________

Christmas with Gundham was… different.

Neither of them had come from families where Christmas had been a huge thing. Soda was used to a discount tree and mismatched ornaments, some of which he had made himself with spare parts from the shop. As far as presents went, he usually got some new socks or something else practical, and, on years where his parents had the money to spare, a new screwdriver or wrench to add to his personal collection.

He had never woken up to piles of perfectly wrapped presents under an equally perfect tree, but he always enjoyed the day as a kid.

He had asked Gundham what his own Christmases had been like growing up, and between his eccentric words, Soda had gathered that they had had somewhat similar experiences: modest decorations and practical gifts.

The biggest difference appeared to be the “abhorrent feast” Gundham’s mother would serve every year.

“The angle who bore me created such fierce dishes; they would cause the toxins in my body to become so concentrated I could hardly withstand them myself.”

Soda cringed at the idea of spending every Christmas sick to your stomach, but couldn’t help but be touched by the idea of Gundham forcing himself to eat whatever his mother served him just so he wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

Soda usually just had take-out for Christmas, it was one of his favourite parts of the holiday.

But like he said, Christmas with was different.

At some point in November the topic had come up, and the two of them had started making plans for how they wanted to spend their first Christmas together.

They ended up going tree shopping at the beginning of December.

A little pop-up tree shop had shown up just down the street from their little apartment, and when Soda had seen it, he ran home and excitedly grabbed Gundham. He began to ramble about how he wanted to get the biggest, fullest tree he could carry, sweeping Gundham up into his arms as he did as if to demonstrate. Gundham had just laughed at him and allowed himself to be carried as Soda began to sing random bits of Christmas songs off key and dance around the apartment.

“While I am enjoying this ritual, my beloved, I do not see how it will procure us a tree.”

Soda blushed and place Gundham back on the ground, looking slightly embarrassed and, in Gundham’s opinion, very cute.

“Shall we?” Gundham reached for his boyfriend’s hand and moved to the door, watching as Soda immediately perked back up.

“Hell yeah.”

They made the short trek to the tree shop, Soda gushing about the amazing tree they were going to get the whole way. However, once they arrived and Soda actually got a look at the price tags on those big, full, amazing trees, his face fell. He knew they were expensive, but damn, they were really expensive.

Gundham had picked up on his disappointment, and began doing his best to make excuses for why the ‘amazing’ trees were actually subpar; a hole here, a strange lump there, and branches to weak to hold “proper seasonal embellishments” all over the place. Soda knew exactly what Gundham was doing, but just nodded along and squeezed his hand a little tighter as they looked for a more reasonably priced tree.

They ended up finding one that was somewhat sparse, but it was tall and had a good shape to it and, most importantly, was in their budget. After paying, Soda made quite the show of lifting it himself, hoisting it over his shoulder and flexing his free arm in an exaggerated manner to make Gundham smile.

It had been a little trouble getting it through the narrow halls of their apartment building, but a few minutes later, they had it set up in a corner of their home, undecorated but bringing a festive feeling to the space all the same.

Gundham noticed Soda’s previous bravado had died down and he was alternating between glancing up at the tree and down his hand where he was absentmindedly rubbing at some sap.

“What is wrong, dearest consort? Does this tree no longer please you?”

“N-no, it’s just… Well, I guess I just feel kinda dumb? I made a big deal about getting us the perfect tree and-“

“And you succeeded in doing so.” Gundham placed a hand on Soda’s cheek and kissed him. He was used to his boyfriend’s tendency to doubt himself, but that didn’t mean he was just going to let him do it. “Perhaps this tree has more space between its limbs than you had wished, but that will only make it easier for us to adorn it as we see fit.” He wrapped and arm around Soda’s waist and drew him closer, hand still on his cheek. “We shall create the most formidable display with it, we will be the envy of all who gaze upon it, and all will know us to be true masters of these yuletide rituals.”

Soda began to laugh as Gundham kissed him again.

“You’re right man, we’re gonna decorate this tree so good that it makes all our friend’s want to throw their trash trees out.” He finally returned Gundham’s kisses, and they both decided to spend the rest of the evening in their bedroom.

“We should probably buy some ornaments soon, starting to feel weird just having a naked tree in the corner.

After a very pleasant evening, Soda and Gundham had decided it best to leave decorating the tree for the next day, only to realise in the morning that neither of them actually owned Christmas decorations.

The weather had been bad that day, so they put off shopping. However, a week had now gone by and the tree remained bare.

“You are right, my love.” Gundham stroked Soda’s messy hair and kissed his forehead. “Should we wait too long, we may find an inadequate selection as well.”

Soda untangled himself from Gundham’s arms and the blanket he had thrown over them once they had finished making love on the couch.

“We could probably do it now, if you’re feeling up to it?” Soda waggled his eyebrows at Gundham.

“You know full well it takes plenty more to render me immobile.” Gundham flashed a smirk, half humorous and half suggestive.

Before Soda could get to wrapped up in the thoughts of the last time he had immobilized Gundham, making him scream over and over until he was too tired to move, Gundham stood up. He began to dress himself, laughing and tossing Soda his boxers when he noticed his boyfriend getting excited again.

“There will be plenty of time for that later, dear consort, but for now, the tree demands adornment.”

They had dressed, much to Soda’s disappointment, and headed to the store.

Once they had arrived Soda wished they had put off shopping for an entirely new reason. There were just so many options. If they had waited and there really had been fewer ornaments available, then at least I would be easier to make a choice.

Soda looked to Gundham, but he looked just as overwhelmed by the selection. There were aisles upon aisles lined with various Christmas decorations, and at lest two appeared to be solely dedicated to tree ornaments.

They shared a look before heading down an aisle at random, hoping they would know what they wanted when they saw it.

It had been at least 20 minutes. Soda and Gundham had walked up each aisle a number of times and Soda was starting to feel exhausted. They should probably just grab something at this point. The only thing He had really manage to decide was that he liked the gold ornaments best, but that still left way too many options.

“Gundham, I’m going to die if we don’t pick something soon. Please, just grab something and lets go.”

“If you are sure…” Gundham glanced at the closest shelf, considering the selection for half a second before grabbing a box of gold and silver ornaments. “Do these suit your desires?”

Soda loved Gundham so much. “Yes. Beautiful. I love you. Let’s leave now.” Soda kissed Gundham and took the box from his hands. He moved to leave but caught Gundham glancing to a shelf just a little further down the aisle.

Soda turned to see what Gundham was looking at. It took a moment, Soda was at the point where all of the ornaments were starting to look the same, but he was pretty sure he knew which set Gundham was looking at.

He walked over to the shelf and picked up the box of all black ornaments.

“These ones too then.” He proudly proclaimed and begin to walk towards the tills.

“Dearest… you do not have to do that. I understand my taste can be a bit… ostentatious…” Soda knew Gundham sometimes got a little embarrassed about how much he liked anything that looked dark and/or mysterious, but he also knew his boyfriend genuinely enjoyed that stuff too.

So he just squinted at Gundham and reached for a second box of black ornaments before finally heading for the tills.

Gundham chased after him, obviously a bit flustered. He kept muttering apologies and telling Soda he really didn’t need the ornaments until they finally made it home.

Once the door shut behind them, Soda took Gundham’s face in both his hands and kissed him.

“Done apologizing? Get it out of your system?” He stared at Gundham until he nodded. “Good. Cus I love you and your stupid goth style, and I think these ornaments are fucking sweet.” Soda kissed him again. “Gonna have the most badass tree anyone’s ever seen.”

Gundham was smiling again, a soft embarrassed smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“Shall we begin then?”

An hour later Soda had to admit that 3 boxes or ornaments may have been too many, but the tree looked awesome and he wasn’t going to complain.

Covered from top to bottom in black, with accents of gold and silver and some warm white lights in between, the tree was a sight to behold. Yeah, it looked extra as hell, but Soda really did think it looked badass. Hell, even if he had hated it, it would have been worth it to see the look on Gundham’s face.

Gundham was openly smiling at the tree, looking as happy as he had been on the day Soda had admitted his feelings to him, and it was making his heart melt.

Soda wrapped his arms around Gundham from behind, and hummed into his shoulder.

“Y’know you really do have good taste, babe.” He couldn’t help but playfully bite at Gundham’s neck, making him laugh a little. “You fell in love with me after all.” He blew a raspberry into Gundham’s neck and they both dissolved into a puddle of smiles and laughter.

It was tacky. Soda knew it was tacky, and he picked up a back up just in case Gundham hated it, but he couldn’t resist it.

He had been out looking for a tree topper, probably some kind of star since neither of them were religious and an angle would look out of place on their tree, which had been “imbued with dark and mysterious energies.” And he really had planned on finding a nice star, preferably a gold one with some black accents or something to match the rest of the tree, but then he saw it.

The tree topper was a hamster. It’s arms and legs were spread wide, so it was vaguely star shaped, and it was dressed like Santa. Soda had choked when he saw it. Then he immediately bought it, grabbing a more generic looking gold star only after he broke out of his ‘buying-a-stupid-thing-Gundham-might-hate-but-might-also-love’ haze.

Now, standing at in front of the door to their apartment, Soda felt unbelievably stupid. It had just been a dumb waste of money. Gundham was gonna hate it and make Soda sleep on the couch for the night to make him think about what he had done. Ok, well, whatever. He’d just show Gundham the back up star and return the hamster later, he never even had to know about it.

He entered their apartment and the tension in his body immediately began to fade. Gundham was in the kitchen, humming along to Christmas music and pulling something out of the oven that smelled like it might be gingerbread. He turned and smiled at Soda before returning to what he was doing.

Soda set down his bag and started taking off his winter gear. While he was hanging his jacket, he heard Gundham approach him.

“Did you find an adequate decoration, dearest?” He placed a slightly flour covered hand on Soda’s shoulder and bent to kiss his cheek.

“Mmhm, it’s in the bag-” Shit. He kicked off his boots as fast as he could and turned. “Wait, Gundham-“

“Oh, this is magnificent. Excellent choice, my beloved, dark consort.” Thank Hamster Jesus, Gundham had pulled the normal star from the bag. “Hmm? What else did you-” Soda retracted his thanks from Hamster Jesus, he could rot in Hamster Hell.

Gundham gently set the gold star down as he starred in horror at the abomination that was the hamster Santa star.

“Look, Gundham, I can explain. I just-”

Gundham burst out laughing. He clutched the Hamster Santa to his chest and absolutely cackled.

“Uh, Gundham?”

Soda watched in horror as he witnessed what he could only assume was Gundham snapping and going absolutely bat-shit insane. He had doubled over and fallen to his knees, still laughing so hard that Soda was sure he couldn’t breathe.

“Babe?”

Gundham took a deep, shaky breath and wiped tears from his eyes before setting Hamster Santa to the side and extending a hand so Soda could help him up.

At least, that’s what Soda had thought he wanted.

Gundham pulled his boyfriend to the ground with him, expertly rolling Soda onto his back and pinning him below him. Gundham bent to kiss all over Soda’s face, laughing a little again.

“Um, so…” Soda was at a loss for words. Had he broke his boyfriend with the shitty star or-

“I love it. It is terrible and I do not believe I have ever loved an object more.” Gundham laughed a little and sat back on his knees, reaching for Hamster Santa again and allowing Soda to sit up. He turned it in his hands and chuckled.

“Uh, really? You sure it’s not too, uh, tacky?” Soda smiled a little and placed a hand on Gundham’s thigh.

“Oh, it is incredibly tacky. Were I freed from this mortal shell and once more able to access the full depths of my dark power, I still do not believe I would be able to find any object more so.” Soda frowned, but Gundham kissed him again. “And yet, it brings me great joy to think you saw this and thought ‘what better gift could there be to bring my beloved, than an abomination which depicts a fusion one of his most cherished dark beasts with the blasphemous idol of a once holy day.’” Gundham laughed again and patted Hamster Santa with more affection than it really deserved.

“Uh, yup, my exact thoughts, word for word.” ‘Hamster funny, give Gundham’ was close enough to what Gundham had said, right? “But really, we don’t have to put that one on the tree, we can just put it somewhere else, or return it, or-“

“This beast will adorn the most honored spot on our tree, and I will not hear otherwise.”

“But won’t it kinda ruin the, like, aesthetic?”

“It will make the aesthetic, my love, and we will place it immediately.” Gundham stood and pulled Soda up with him, giving him another kiss on his forehead before pulling him to the tree by his hand. He proudly handed Hamster Santa to Soda. “Do the honours, my dearest.”

Soda grimaced as he was handed the tacky decoration, he really didn’t want to ruin their tree, and besides-

“I can’t reach the top of the tree, where’s the-” He was cut off by Gundham wrapping his arms around his waist and lifting him into the air. Soda couldn’t help but laugh, he liked being picked up by Gundham almost as he liked picking him up. “Fine then, have it your way.” He (gently) slammed Hamster Santa on top of the tree and crossed his arms defiantly, playing up his fake annoyance.

Only to lose any semblance of actual irritation when Gundham hoisted him slightly higher and threw him over his broad shoulder. Soda let out and incredibly manly squawk as Gundham patted him on the ass.

“Thank you, my consort, allow me to express my deepest gratitude.” Gundham’s voice had taken a very familiar tone, slightly deeper than it already was, and Soda found he no longer wanted to protest as Gundham carried him to their bedroom.

Christmas day had, admittedly, been fairly similar to the Christmases Soda had growing up. No giant pile under the tree, and mostly practical presents. Emphasis on mostly, Soda thought as he leaned back against Gundham’s chest on the couch in his reindeer onesie. Gundham wore a matching one. It hadn’t been planned, they had both bought each other the same stupid onesie complexly by coincidence, and they had both lost their shit laughing when they opened them at the same time as well.

Even if the day itself hadn’t been all that noteworthy, Soda couldn’t happen but think this was the best Christmas he had ever had. The chaos leading up to it had been so new to him, but he already cherished the memories he had been able to make with Gundham. The tree hadn’t been the full, perfect one from his dreams, but decked out in their badass gold, black, and silver ornaments and topped with sweet, tacky, little Hamster Santa, Soda knew it was definitely more memorable.

The gifts hadn’t been huge, or extravagant, or expensive like the ones he saw in movies growing up, but they had been thoughtful and full of love and even a little silly. Soda couldn’t think of anything he would have rather received.

He leaned his head back against Gundham’s shoulder, and his boyfriend kissed him without looking away from the book he was reading. Soda let out a contented sigh.

Sitting in Gundham’s arms, surrounded by their questionable decorations and thoughtful gifts, and wearing stupid matching onesies.

This was a perfect Christmas.

#Soudam #Soda kazuichi #gundham tanaka #Soda/Gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #christmas fic #My writing #It's still christmas here don't judge me

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sapphire-strikes · 4 years

Note

Jimothen would absolutely take FK and Parsley camping! Since Dallas drives out, I can't imagine he'd pass a chance to tag along - and I imagine Parsley would be more willing if FK was there. His dad is a lot and everyone know it! Manly camping!!!

I just want to say thank you so much for this request I had a lot of fun with it!

• Out of all the father son bonding time Parsley is forced into, camping is his least favorite. He's not a very outdoorsy person at all. The bugs, the burnt food, sleeping on the ground; it's not exactly his idea of a good time and Jimothan's insistence on roughing it as much as possible only makes it worse.

• Jimothan proudly brought up their upcoming yearly trip at the Lounge one day and you mentioned that you hadn't been in a while and that camping sounded like a lot of fun. This immediately caught Parsley's attention and he was quick to suggest you come along with them.

• Jimothan was surprisingly okay with this idea as well. He'd always been so insistent on it being a father-son trip but he was already proudly blustering on about showing you how to pitch a tent "the right way".

• Parsley on the other hand was just happy to have someone to suffer with. And who knows, his dad might even tone it down a notch with you around. He almost felt bad, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

• A few days later while hanging out with Dallas you mentioned getting to tag along with them and he congratulated you, wistfully mentioning how much he loved group camping trips. A few minutes later and you're making a call to Parsley asking if there was room for one more

• Jimothan remembered Dallas from their time at the Habitat but overall didn't know much about the guy besides what he usually orders at the bar.

"I don't know, the kid's one thing but we only have so much room in the truck. You ever been camping before, son?"

"Allll the time, daddy-O~ The mystique of the forest really scratches the id, y'know? Makes for a excellent atelier~"

"What in the sam hill does that-"

"He goes there to paint." You clarified "Oh and don't worry about space! We can just take Dallas's bus, he's got plenty of room."

Dallas flashed Jimothan the "OK" symbol and though he still looked reluctant, Parsley was already on board and looking more excited about going camping than he had in a long time.

"I'm just happy I don't have to ride in the bed of the pickup this year." Parsley sighed in relief.

"Oh don't complain. I always tell you; the Breeo X Series 19 Firemaster has to sit up front with me for safe keeping."

• When it comes to actually camping, Jimothan is old fashioned but impressively efficient. When you pick out a spot and begin unpacking your things he's already working on setting up the tents and starting a fire. Fishing, hiking, rock climbing, he tries to fit in as many outdoorsy activates into the weekend as possible. .

• Dallas takes a much more relaxed approach to camping. He brings a lot of modern amenities and prefers to sleep in his bus instead of out in the open. Spending most of his free time finding a good place to set up a temporary studio and painting

• Much to Jimothan's dismay, Parsley latches onto this laid back approach to camping and ends up spending most of his time with Dallas.

"C'mon, Pars, Marv told me the lake north of here is full of biters!"

"Uh, thank, dad...but I'll have to pass for today. Dallas and I are gonna go swimming though, so maybe I'll see you up by the stream?" Parsley was awkwardly dancing around his dad's enthusiasm and you weren't blind to the dejection and annoyance that was building in Jimothan's eyes every time Dallas stepped in to join one of their activities or offer an easier alternative to Jimothan's bare bones way of camping.

• Dallas really was just doing his best to be friendly even going out of his way to strike up conversation with Jimothan despite the older man's gruff attitude.

• Considering that Parsley never shared his love of camping, Jimothan gets pretty excited if you show interest in what he's working on or ask him to assist you with something. Though he does tend to take over and show you how to do it as opposed to just helping.

• You do your best to keep him from feeling left out but unfortunately this backfires and now you're the one he's waking up at 5am to go hiking. You had to admit you felt bad for him but you were beginning to understand what Parsley meant about his dad being a lot to handle. Still, it's actually kind of sweet. He really does just want someone to share a common interest with and pass all his tricks onto. He just lacked basic communication skills.

• Speaking of Parsley, he seemed to genuinely be enjoying himself this time around. He got along really well with Dallas, even modeling in front of the sunset for him at one point.

Unfortunately Jimothan’s over eagerness begins to wear on you and you find yourself tempted by the dark side. "You sure you don't want to stick around? Dallas is gonna show me how to make dream catchers." Parsley asked, scooting over to make room for you near the fire.

"I probably shouldn't. Jimothan already asked me if I wanted to go rock climbing with him."

"Rock climbing? You mean on that 30ft tall cliff by the waterfall? You nodded wearily. "Yeah, he already tried to get me to go too, buddy system and all that. But I get forced into that stuff every year. Missing it this one time won't hurt him."

"I don't know, he seemed pretty excited." Just as you were struggling with your decision Dallas emerged from his bus holding an assortment of crafting supplies.

"Heyy, little buddy, are you going to be joining us? I've got some pressed flowers you could use for yours, it'll fit your aesthetic perfectly~" Before you could answer, Parsley pulled you down to sit beside him.

"You bet they are!" Okay, maybe a quick crafts break wouldn't hurt.

• Before you knew it three hours had passed and you were doing outdoors yoga alongside Dallas and Parsley with flowers braided into your hair. The serene atmosphere only being broken by Jimothan stomping into camp. He was soaking wet and looked like he had taken quite the tumble. The annoyed look on his face only reconfirmed this theory.

"So...how was rock climbing?" Parsley asked nervously. The only response any of you received was a furrowed brow before he angrily retreated into the tent to change.

• After a bit of time he eventually returned and went about readying the camp for dinner. It was beginning to get dark so you, Dallas and Parsley were sitting on the top of the bus watching the stars. The view was nice but there was just one thing missing.

"Hey, Jimothan, you should get up here, the views amazing!" Parsley seemed to catch onto what you were doing and followed your lead.

"They're right ya know. It is pretty cool up here." Parsley seemed to finally have caught his attention and he looked to actually be considering it for a second but shook his head.

"Nah, you kids have fun. I need to get this fire started." There was a hint of sadness to his voice as he went back to smacking his wet flint and steel together. They must have been in his pocket when he took his tumble down the waterfall.

Dallas leaned over the railing at the top of the bus. "There's no need for that, my guy. If you can't get that started I've got a microwave in the back, we can have Pad Thai." He seemed to be trying to raise the mood but Jimothan didn't offer his addition so much as a glance. He did however huff and begin smacking the flint and steel together much more aggressively.

You and Parsley gave each other a worried glance but it was interrupted by Dallas placing a hand on each of your shoulders. He winked and seemed to be giving you a look that implied, 'let me handle this', before effortlessly vaulting over the railing and sliding down the side of the bus.

Without missing a beat he kneeled down beside Jimothan and pulled put a ligher. Quickly flicking it alight and holding it beside the piece of newspaper he was trying to start the fire with. "I feel you though, nothing like cooking over a real fire, right?"

• Jimothan looked at him in awe for a moment and Dallas just gave him a friendly smile. Then Jimothan threw down his flint and steel, stood up and marched off into the forest.

Parsley slapped a hand to his forehead and slouched backwards, "Oh boy..." You scrambled down the ladder to stand beside Dallas who was still staring in the direction Jimothan had stormed off in.

"Did I say something wrong?" He looked at you worriedly but before you could answer Parsley slid down the ladder to stand beside you.

Nah, not really. He's just...not good with change."

• Jimothan goes pretty quiet after that, eventually returning to huffily chop wood not far from the camp. After a bit you offer to go talk to him but Parsley steps up insisting that he should be the one to do it.

• You and Dallas sit by the fire, just barely being able to make out their shapes as they talked off in the distance. You couldn't hear what they were saying but just watching their silhouettes interact told the whole story.

• Jimothan seemed to be ignoring him for a while until Parsley picked up an axe and started chopping alongside him. There was an obvious struggle on Parsley's part that was enough to catch Jimothan's attention and soon he moved to show him how to do it properly. Adjusting the wood on the chopping block, showing him how to hold the axe right and demonstrating the proper chopping motion. He then stepped back to let Parsley try again, giving a small applause as he successfully split a log down the middle.

There a moment of stillness as Parsley seemed to be speaking then he walked forward and hugged his dad. Jimothan froze for a moment then hugged him back. They stayed like that for a bit and you almost wished you could have heard what they were talking about.

• Not long after that Parsley came walking back into the light with Jimothan close behind him. There was a clear bit of awkward tension in the air but Dallas was the first to stand up and apologizes for having done anything that may have upset him. This was enough to get Jimothan to speak up, and he insisted that Dallas had nothing to be sorry for.

"You're here as a guest. I'm sorry for causing a scene. If Parsley happy doing..." He vaguely motioned to Dallas's bus, "whatever it is you've been doing... then maybe I need to open up a bit"

Parsley was smiling at him proudly but he raised a hand, "Just a bit though!"

• The next morning all four of you went spear fishing then later that evening Dallas set up a projector and you had a little horror movie marathon. You even got Jimothan to make a dream catcher. It was a disastrous collage of fish hooks and rocks but he seemed proud of it so you hung it up with the others.

• Dallas plays the acoustic guitar and Jimothan plays the Banjo and as it turns ou the two of them have a mutual love of campfire songs. You're forever grateful to Parsley for thinking ahead and bringing an extra pair of noise canceling headphone for you because those two go on for hours. Seeing them both go all out together is incredibly sweet though.

• When it comes time to pack up and leave Jimothan offers Dallas a hand shake but Dallas goes straight for the hug. Leaving Jimothan to give him an awkward pat on the back as he half returned it.

• Parsley has already assured you that you're definitely coming next year, no exceptions. And who knows, they might even make it a tradition to start bringing some of the others as well.

#smile for me #parsley botch #jimothan botch #sfm #reader/flower kid #Finally finished somthing!#and there's more on the way #thank you all for requesting and reading!

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haiky-u-lously · 4 years

Text

King Kuroo and the Red Knights (9)

Summary:

A Camelot AU where King Arthur is Kuroo Tetsuro, and the Knights of the Roundtable of characters from seasons 1-4 of the HQ anime. Eventual Kuroo X Reader.

Themes:

Action/fighting/killing, dead bodies, Fluff, Angst, Humor, Eventual Romance

Warnings:

Mentions of stalking and abuse of power, Language, Angst in feelings, Gore and fighting, mention of explosion, mention of seeing dead bodies

Word Count:

For Chapter: ~2800words

Questions/Comments/Concerns/Ideas welcome as always.

-Admin Red

Hi everyone! First, I’d like to half-apologize for my sudden disappearance from the weekly updates. I say half-apologize because I do feel bad about it, but the first week was supposed to be a break because I’ve had some physical issues come up and it really really hurts to type so I was trying to take a week away from overly stressing my fingers and putting them through more than necessary pain. So like, it was going to be fully justified even though I did feel bad.

But, after that first weekend without an update I got 7 anon and 2 not-anon asks and 2 direct messages all from individuals basically being hate messages. Regarding how I must be lazy for not keeping my posting up after only two weeks, regarding how the story is crap and they were happy I wasn’t flooding the tags with the b*s anymore. And for how few positive responses I have received regarding the story as a whole after 2 months of posting each week to receive so much after only 1.5 weeks...it was pretty much a punch to the gut.

I realize I am not a top writing for the HQ fandom, I realize that only like...maybe...10 people actually read this story each week, and I am truly grateful to everyone who does. But like that fact that I got so many rude messages as opposed to nice ones really tore me up, especially since in the absence (until yesterday) I hadn’t received any word that anyone was still enjoying the work.

This is why I would like to once again thank the anon who messaged me yesterday. As I said, the kindness you wrote to me made me cry because I’d been so down about this piece. And, I am really glad this work brought you any joy that it did, I hope it continues to do so.

Finally, I have a doctors appointment to get my hands checked out. After basically a month of being in pain with them hopefully something will come of it and I can get back to writing for this work. For now though, here is chapter 9. I hope those following for this piece enjoy it, and honestly if you only wish to send hate please keep it to yourself. Constructive criticism is fine, welcome even (as proven by the fact that I owned up to being wrong about certain characters being third years), but hate messages...those are just pointless.

I hope you like this next installment. Enjoy!

–Admin Red

Chapter 9: Morning of the Tournament

It had been a long few days as the castle staff, knights, and royals of Camelot prepared for the tournament they’d decided to hold. But everyone was in high spirits at breakfast that morning, even Suga and you who’d had a few close calls with your new hall-mate liking to barge in without so much as knocking to indicate his approach.

After the third scare of him walking in while you were eating, you’d started to use your magic to lock the door whenever your helmet was off.

“I still can’t believe how quickly he accepted that you just had (h/l), (h/c) hair when he saw the back of your head,” Suga commented biting into his eggs from his breakfast plate.

You laughed a bit before responding, finishing off your own mouthful of food. “Yea, he is very friendly though. I appreciate how true his comment was. Saying this was the most private hall of the castle? We only come across him regularly, it is pretty nice to be afforded the level of privacy I wanted. Even if there were a few mistakes at the beginning.” You smiled as you went in for more food.

Suga had finished clearing his plate before mouthing to you that he agreed with your assessment.

*knock knock*

When you heard the knocking from your door, rather than the whines of a knight who felt excluded from the so-called party, you knew it was someone other than the King’s right-hand man at your door. Quickly you put your helmet on, still hiding your true identity and removed your magic hold on the door so Suga could open it.

“Excuse me,” Futakuchi called upon entering your chambers. “Ah so you are both here, great! Makes this less work for me then.”

Suga laughed on both of your behalves at the attendant’s joke, having grown accustomed to his sense of humor as it was similar to your own.

“The King has asked me to tell you the order of today’s fights.” He said, pulling a piece of parchment from behind his back with a wide grin.

Suga’s eyes lit up as Futakuchi spoke, and you knew your friend was looking forward to this show of strength as much as any of the men of Camelot, and you smiled proudly behind your face-wear.

When a full minute passed without a word from the magician, Suga threw his hands out in exasperation, “Well then, what is it?”

“Oh, right!” The brunet fumbled the paper before moving to place it on your dining table to review with your pair. “So the first battle will be the most entertaining as the side by side matches should be--!”

His explanation was cut off by the ringing of bells from the courtyard.

“Another attack?” Suga questioned, not knowing the differences in Camelot’s alarm system since you’d heard it less than a handful of times.

Futakuchi shook his head, “No, it means a visitor. But I have no clue who could be approaching today of all days. Come, you should see who it is with me.”

Your group made it down to the front square of the Castle, only to watch as all of the knight’s you’d slowly begun to know over the course of the week run up to a pair of men riding in on horseback!

“You’ve made it!”

“What took you two so long?”

“Where have you been, idiots? The guests of honor arrived a week before you!”

“With Asahi and Ushijima here we are in for a real tournament!”

“Grand welcome for two of Camelot’s strongest! Welcome back to the castle latecomers.”

Watching the group, you realized the men were as close to one another as Suga and you were with your own band of Knights. You were grateful for the reminder of home, even if it made you miss your friends a bit more.

“Ah, so they really did show up today.” You heard from beside you and turned to face the speaker, “Pardon their inept ability to make proper introductions, Red Knight. The two newcomers are the pair I told you about before. Since they have arrived, I may make them participate in the tournament as punishment for being so late.”

You nodded to the King, indicating you’d heard him before stepping back to let him address his men from a better position atop the stairs.

“Thank you,” He smiled fondly before taking your prior position and screaming out to the men below him, “Ushijima! Asahi! Men!” The knights filed up at the base of the staircase, with the two new arrivals front and center. “Why are you so late?”

“Late?” Asahi asked, “You know, you all keep saying we are late, but we just got these summons a few days ago.”

Ushijima just shrugged and looked bored, “If we are supposedly late, we can just go back to where we were.”

The men around the pair started shouting obscenities at their friends’ casualness. You noted the joking manner between the group of twelve and realized that this kingdom truly did feel like they were in a time of peacefulness after the decades of darkness that befell them.

Looking to Suga, you noticed his eyes trained on the men below, joking and horseplaying as he had with his own companions, and you made a note to show how grateful you were to him once more. He’d left his home and friends to stay beside you, the least you could do is remind him how appreciative you were.

“--wever, the matter at fact is that our guests arrived a week before you. To top that, they fought on our side when the castle was attacked without all her guards in place. So I’ve decided you will join our tournament today, and I will not accept any excuses of being tired from your journey.” The King smiled down to his men. The pair grumbled about how unfair a punishment was being forced on them, the other men just showed excitement at the prospect of their friends joining.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I want to fight Ushi!”

“Hells ya! Make them fight for their dinner while we’re at it!”

“I wouldn’t mind kicking some sense into the glass hearted giant myself!”

“Woaho! Fight time, let’s go!!”

Even the few not shouting out in pure joy had grins on their faces as they looked to and nodded at one another, all of them ready for what they now perceived to be a perfect tournament.

Waving your hand, you caught Suga’s attention, and holding your fingers up to make a triangle, you told him to ask about the tournament set up.

“Excuse us, King Kuroo.” He approached the royal, “This will probably change your line-up for the tournament?”

“You’re right! Futakuchi!” He yelled, to get the attendant’s attention away from joking around with the men below. “Come, we have to rearrange some things.” After his announcement, the King reentered the castle.

As he passed Futakuchi slowed to ask Suga a question, “How against are you showcasing your magic?”

Suga looked to you for your decision. Since showing magic would be the first test against the King’s ability to truly reconnect with the Order you decided it would be a fine move.

You shrugged your shoulders to indicate you didn’t care either way, leaving it to Suga’s discretion since he too knew of the testing methods.

“If I fight another magician, I don’t mind.” He answered positively.

Futakuchi’s grin overtook his features as he bobbed his head before following after his king.

“You sure like them, don’t you?” You whisper asked your friend.

“Like you don’t?” He laughed back. “If it goes well, perhaps we really can trust this new King and then you can focus on your other mission.”

Behind your shielded mask, you rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue before answering, “Perhaps you can shut up because no one asked you about that.”

He laughed at your ire, but brought it down to nothing more than a smile seeing the knights climbing the stairs.

“Oh let me introduce you!” Bokuto yelled excitedly seeing your pair atop the staircase. “Ushijima, Asahi, these are the Red Knight representatives. This is Sugawara, the Knight’s squire, and that...well, we just call him the Red Knight, I’ve seemed to have forgotten his name.” The Knight ended up drawing out his introduction as he racked his brain trying to recall it.

“Oh the Red Knight doesn’t mind, we’ve been doing it all week.” Terushima countered, defending his friend’s forgetfulness, and you stifled a laugh as you imagined it was because he too forgot the name you’d chosen to use.

“Wait, you’re Sugawara? From the Order?” A longer haired male asked, stepping from behind the other men to look at your friend closely. After what you guessed was further inspection he grabbed your companion in a tight embrace, “It’s been years! How are you old friend?!” The male shouted in his ears.

You’d moved to unsheath your sword, only to pause at Suga raising his hand towards you.

“It’s okay Yomimasu, I actually think I remember this man.” He finally said once released from the embrace. The taller male backed up and sheepishly scratched at the stubble of hair growing against his jawline. Suga did his own visual study before grinning from ear to ear and giving the man his own version of a soul crushing bear-hug. “Azumane, goor sir. It’s been a long while. Glad to see you’re still alive!”

Hearing the name Suga called, memories flooded your mind of Suga’s friend from the summer years back. A traveling group stayed in a town near your own and the pair met in the forest when Suga was searching for you. After enticing the over-grown child’s help, Suga made fast friends with the boy. Sneaking off himself to go teach him some sword fighting skills and some of the things you’d taught him as well.

“Wait!” Semi interrupted your thoughts and the pair’s reunion. “You two know each other?”

Suga nodded, and Asahi moved to explain, “I stayed a summer nearby to where Suga lived when I was a child. He was the one who taught me to use swords, and his cousin taught us both how to write. Thought I’d never see them again, honestly. What are you doing in Camelot?”

Being questioned, Suga fell back into his more reserved mannerisms, “Of course, I am here as escort to the Red Knight as the Order has sent us to determine if Camelot is worthy of being considered an ally once more.”

The official reason for your visit.

It still angered you that it was your only excuse, that you weren’t meant to share your other reasons. But things were the way they were, and thus you stayed silent, watching the encounter from the sidelines.

“What are you doing as a knight of Camelot? I thought only those in some roundabout way related to the King’s lineage were accepted as knights?” Suga questioned.

“Oh, Kuroo did away with that rule long before he even became King. Quoting about how men should be fighter’s by their merit not their bloodlines.” Yamagata informed your pair.

Aone got a disgusted look on his face that made you want to laugh out, but you swallowed the feeling, he asked, “Did you think we were all somehow related?”

Suga glanced at you, and you did nothing to indicate your own thoughts of the matter, he sighed in defeat and answered, “Well not recently, but yes I felt your family trees must have connected somewhere down the line to the King’s.”

The group of men before him burst into fits of laughter as they regarded the idea and its apparent absurdity.

“What of your cousin? How does the Princess fair?” Asahi questioned, changing topics to try and save his friend some embarrassment.

“Cousin?” Daichi guffawed.

“Princess?” Atsumu and Osamu blurted out simultaneously.

Your body went stiff at Asahi’s question and you had to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself and tell your mind that they weren’t actually calling to you.

Suga grinned as if he didn’t have a care in the world as he answered his old friend’s question, “She’s happier than she’s ever been, last time I saw her.”

He turned to reenter the castle, probably to return to your room, but you weren’t sure. You were going to follow him but stopped dead in your tracks as Bokuto, Satori, Terushima and Atsumu all followed after him, asking so many questions over one another even you couldn’t make any of them out.

“So who are you?” A tall man, with short dark hair turned to you. He felt like he’d probably be more intimidating than Aone, but as you were currently sporting a full suit of armor, and held a secret that none in Camelot, save your own friend, knew, you didn’t actually feel frightened.

Daichi and Iwaizumi both stepped between your figure and the large knight, hands up defensively.

“Actually, Ushijima, while in uniform the Knight cannot speak. It’s a little challenging, but we’ve managed pretty well this past week. It’s easier to ask simple questions.” Daichi informed, and you appreciated the complete switch in the knight’s attitudes since you’d first arrived.

Iwaizumi nodded, “The letter you received should have detailed the purpose of their visit, Futa did a great job explaining everything in ours at least. We did a shite job of first impressions the night they arrived and yet he still helped us defend Camlot’s castle. The Red Knight is good people, trust us on that in the very least.”

It amazed you how much the male reminded you of your old childhood acquaintance. You wished you’d know the boy better to tell if he was the same man for sure, but alas, only Oikawa would have known...And, it’d been years since you’d seen him either. You felt the tear roll down your cheek before realizing you’d started to cry at the recollection. Closing your eyes you let your mind settle on nothingness to rid it of the negative memories regarding your ex-friend.

“Then perhaps you can answer simple yes or no questions?” The giant, presumably Ushijima questioned you. Upon seeing you nod, he hummed before continuing, “Are you really only here to see if Camelot can reconnect with your Order?”

While you knew how Suga would want you to respond, you also knew it wouldn’t be truthful. It’d been a long week developing trust with the members of Camelot’s court, and you the only way to keep that streak would be to stay honest. You shook your head in the negative.

Ignoring the shocked exclamations of the men around him, your interrogator continued. “Do you wish to bring Camelot or Kuroo harm?”

You stood at attention and shook your head once more, expressing clear displeasure at the mere idea.

The male hummed before bowing out of his inquisition, “I see. I look forward to getting to know you then.”

Watching him move inside the castle, you stayed where you were in anticipation of the other’s questions to follow your first answer.

“Aye, you weren’t being serious in having another motive, were you?” Osamu questioned, looking at you with disbelief dancing in his eyes.

You just bowed your head in apology.

“Does Sugawara know of your other mission?” Daichi questioned further.

You thought for a moment before rocking your hand side-to-side in front of you, telling the knights he kind of knew a bit about it, but entirely.

Semi shook his head and stepped forward, a frown clear on his face as he tried to find your eyes hidden in the shadows of your helmet, “Have you deceived us?”

His voice sounded so angry, almost threateningly so, but you knew you couldn’t answer that question without Suga by your side to explain. Thankfully you didn’t have to.

“Oi!” King Kuroo yelled from one of the windows overlooking the front gate. “Get to the main hall for review of the schedule!”

“In a minute!” Semi yelled back, still looking you up and down distrustingly.

Kuroo didn’t like this attitude in his knight’s defiance and yelled back, “Now!” Then laughed as he added, “Or no supper for any of the knights, Semi!”

The silver haired male tsk’d in annoyance before rushing inside.

“We trust you,” A voice called your attention from watching the others follow after him. “Not sure why it’s such a strong trust, but we do.” Aone looked at you directly, unbeknownst to him catching your eyes’ gaze with ease. “Don’t betray us.”

What could you do but bow in a show of understanding and acceptance. You really didn’t wish to betray them, and should they discover your secret in a manner not befitting your true identity, then the power will lie with them to do with you as they please.

_______________________________________________

Table of contents:

Chapter 8 Chapter 10

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otterknowbynow · 4 years

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Altean Home Economics (19/?)

Goo is great, but Hunk sure would feel better if they had kitchen access, even if that does mean figuring out some extraterrestrial foreign substances and ending up with a lot more than he bargained for. Set between 2x07 "Space Mall" and 2x08 "The Blade of Marmora," stretching time a little bit.

all chapters in this tag | full work on ao3

Yeskia has to hand it to Edessa; the woman knows how to use her influence when she needs to. There’s not even enough time for Elian to work himself back into too much of a huff before she’s showed up at the council room doors with a soothing presence, Ren, and Jenis -- the engineer-slash-farmer. Jenis is known to Yeskia mainly for being the person to call when there are problems with the grid -- though they’re not always easily found. She knows the youngsters rely on them for glodworm glisten during the third-season rush, though, and that they’ve always been kind to Ren, so she has a decent soft spot for them anyway. Plus, she can understand not wanting to be found when it’s often Elian doing the finding.

“So, what happened when Ren and Edessa activated the signal, then?” Lisanne is asking now, and Yeskia is once again grateful to them for producing the necessary questions.

Jenis rocks back on their heels, looking over at where Edessa is sitting in a chair in the corner, passing tarts to Ren every few minutes. They take a breath and look back to Lisanne, Elian, and Yeskia, arrayed around the councilors’ table.

“Well, you see, councilors, we never rerouted the citizens’ array to its own signal tower, so it’s still connected to the old city.”

“The city that was lost hundreds of sun cycles ago? The city that sank below the ocean as it was being evacuated by the early expeditions? That city?” That’s Elian, glaring at Jenis over his glasses, and Yeskia can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy as she recognizes it as the same glare he’s directed at her hundreds of times -- it’s highly disconcerting to be on the receiving end, she knows from experience.

“Um, yes,” Jenis says quietly, now shuffling their feet in an odd little dance of nerves. “That’d be the one.”

“Then...is it even broadcasting off-planet?” Lisanne asks, frowning.

“Yes! Yes, it is,” they answer, looking toward Lisanne but not quite at them. “But to anyone who receives the signal, it will look like it originated in the city -- unless they’re particularly equipped to look deeper.”

Hunk and Coran are both typing rapidly on console keyboards, and there’s a growing restlessness Keith can feel through his entire body that’s threatening to explode at any moment. What is taking them so long? At least when Hunk wanted everyone to come mess around in the kitchen, that could happen while they were still on the way to the Blades headquarters -- if anything, it was a welcome distraction. But now they’re stuck here in this nowhere part of space, not only still hours away from the Blades base, but completely ground to a halt by some joker with a distress beacon.

Trying to trace this stupid signal isn’t getting them any closer to their destination; it isn’t getting him any closer to answers. If all they found is ruins, why isn’t everyone back at the castle and set to take off again? Why are they orbiting around this nothing planet with some broken rocks under the ocean? Who cares where the signal originated? If it isn’t clear by now where it came from -- if it’s been deliberately hidden somehow -- then whoever sent it clearly doesn’t want to be found, and they’re wasting time! They’re wasting time they could be spending getting him closer to knowing the truth about himself, and maybe even something about his mom --

“Keith, buddy, you okay over there? You look like you’re about to break your station just to see if you can.” Hunk’s voice cuts into his thoughts, and Keith sees he’s looked up from the console, his hands hovering over the keyboard and an expression of open concern on his face. Keith also realizes he’s been clutching his fists so tightly the nails have dug into his hands and from the wetness on his right palm, in at least one instance they’ve drawn blood.

“Uh, yeah…’m fine,” he mutters, wincing, and silently uncurls his fingers to wipe the blood surreptitiously on his pants. “How’s the tracing going?” he adds, loudly enough for Coran to hear him too.

“It’ll be better once we hear from Number Five,” says Coran in a harried tone that’s matched by the speed of his fingers on the keyboard. “She should have a better time of it than we are -- it’s like trying to trace back a needle that’s been cut off of its thread, which was already invisible, and -- I don’t know; I’m running out of metaphor! Simile! Whichever!”

“It’s that bad,” Hunk adds, frowning determinedly. He clicks the comms connection back on to ask, “Pidge, what’s your status?”

“Approaching the beacon origin,” comes Pidge’s voice, sounding nothing if not determined. It looks like it’s in this crumbly old -- something -- building -- I’m gonna hop out of my lion and swim down.”

“Aw, man -- Pidge is gonna swim? Wish I was there to see it.” Lance snorts, and Keith can’t help but roll his eyes hearing it.

“Yeah, because it would’ve been better if we’d sent you down to try and figure out a piece of alien tech,” he mutters.

“What was that?” Shiro asks, and Keith clamps his mouth shut. Oops.

“Nothing -- just waiting to hear more from Pidge.” He puts an emphasis on her name that he hopes makes it clear that Lance can shut up any time.

“Aren’t we all? Seems like it’s gonna be a minute, though -- not sure she’s exactly built for quick swimming.” He’s joking, it’s clear, but Keith really wishes he wouldn’t. Not when he’s already tense.

“Lance, buddy, that is not the most helpful you could be right now,” Hunk says, a bit of tightness creeping into his voice, though it’s clear he’s trying to keep it gentle.

“Also, I have a suit, genius,” Pidge says flatly. I Lance’s comments have gotten to her at all, her voice doesn’t show it. “As you may recall, it has a propulsion system.”

“A propulsion system I could outswim in my sl--” Hunk flips a switch, cutting Lance off mid-sentence, but it seems he’s only muted transmissions from the blue lion, since a moment later they hear Pidge.

“I’m in, and the terminal seems navigable,” she says, and Keith is torn between relief she’s found something and frustration that this means even more of a delay. He taps his fingers together restlessly to try to relieve some of the tension he can feel building back up in his body.

“Good -- can you trace the signal? Get us some actual coordinates instead of this zipping and zapping across the whole freaking continent?” Hunk still sounds harried, and Keith wonders vaguely for a moment if all his stress is just from this.

“Looks like...yes!” Pidge is victorious, and even though Keith can’t see her grin he can hear it as she says, “Putting them through to you all now. Lance? Allura? We’ll meet you there.”

“What if they are particularly equipped to look deeper?” Yeskia asks, keeping her tone non-accusatory. Jenis may be responsible for most of the outpost’s technology infrastructure, and therefore to blame -- but that’s also a reason to be understanding of them, she thinks. Imagine having to throw together a new interface with essentially some scrap metal and a shoestring. She certainly couldn’t have done a better job.

“If they are, then they will, and they’ll figure out it’s come from us,” Jenis says, glancing at her face and then away again. “And I suppose we’ll find out soon enough if they have.”

Elian appears to still be parsing out what Jenis is saying, eyebrows lowered over his tiny spectacles. Lisanne is frowning, but in more of a pensive way than Elian. Yeskia’s not sure what to make of this.

“So, we meant to send a signal -- or Zoric did, anyway -- for emergency aid. We sent a signal for emergency aid. And now someone might respond to it. Is that right?” She says it slowly, clearly, looking from Lisanne’s face to Elian’s, hoping to get her fellow council members around to at least a place of calm, if not acceptance.

“That seems about correct,” says Jenis, relief showing through their whole body as their shoulders lower and their round face relaxes. Yeskia is only too happy to take the pressure off of them -- not relaying the signal through a proper local tower was an oversight, but the outcome here may well be the same.

“Then I don’t see this as a problem. This is what Zoric intended to do. Councilors, I move we dismiss Engineer Jenis and begin to discuss our far more pressing issue -- the fatality that moved Zoric to discharge the alarm in the first place. Losing a citizen means this disease is a real threat now.” She clasps her trembling hands in front of her and adds, “A threat to all of us.”

#altean home economics #nineteen (short) chapters in folks....here we are #vld #voltron #vld fic #keith kogane #hunk (voltron)#hunk garrett #pidge (voltron)#katie holt #coran (voltron)#I don't know what tags people use.jpg #per usual!!!#scribbles #the entuk ocs I care about keep multiplying smh.....keep...coming up with more information about all of them and it's li k e #anyway!!!!#love them!!!

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suddeninklings · 5 years

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Update!

Hide Your Fires. A little over a year after the events of the Dover-Birch case, Detective David Loki has a chance run-in with a former classmate. Equally lonely souls, burdened with pasts they would like to forget, the two reconnect in ways neither expected. Detective Loki x OC. Romance, Thriller, Comfort.

(Part 1)

Tuesday.

Helen Abbott-Howser. The fourth of twelve victims. Between October 1997 and March of 1999, the incongruously named Roadside Ripper had been active across the counties of Centerfield, Cambria and Conyer’s own Middlesex. A round dozen, the killer had proclaimed in a typed letter posted in rest stops across the state in the early hours of April 1st, 1999. Some called it a manifesto. In it, he attempted to rationalize the attacks. At the time, there was no word for a man like the Ripper. With the turn of the century and the rise of the internet, there now was. All of the victims were women between the ages of 25-40. In the letter, he cited years of rejection and humiliation as proper cause. It wasn’t until 2012 that similar attacks brought the Rippers killings back to light and gave him a more suitable label. He was an incel.

One of many men who practiced what they called “voluntary celibacy” due to the lack of romance or sex in their lives. In their minds, women were to blame and many of them believed that women should be made to suffer. As they had. To most, they were angry young men, dangerous and ruled by hate, but heroes to some. Sixteen years had passed since his last victim had been found off the interstate, ten miles outside of town. Despite the PSP and the FBI’s involvement in the case, there was no evidence other than the circumstantial. No leads. The few suspects the police had managed to find had all of them been disproved by DNA. The case was open, but practically dead in the water.

David could remember his foster mother, Teri (or was it Denise then? They all blurred together in his memory) watching the story play out on the news with equal parts disgust and fascination. Women were told to take caution driving on the highway alone. Some police departments advised against it altogether. Even after the manifesto had been found, in which the killer claimed he had been absolved of the shame and pain of living as “subsidiary male in a society that set him up to fail,” people were on edge for many of the years that followed. It wasn’t until the string of missing child cases grew more and more frequent that public focus shifted and the Ripper was more or less lost to time.

Shit. David thought, the weight of his offense still weighing on him. Maybe it’s too early. I should come back later.

He stood on the Howser porch, fighting the urge to pace. Sleep had not been easy to find that night and the lack of it made him restless. He blinked, his grip on the paper wrapping in his hand tightening. He had been up before dawn trying to craft an apology in his head, but anything he managed to come up with felt hollow on his tongue, lacking the sincerity he knew he owed her. It was a problem he had dealt with since childhood. Even now, he still struggled to engage with people outside of work. He couldn’t interrogate them. Couldn’t order them about or adhere to their orders. There were no such hierarchies in life, or at least, if there were, there shouldn’t be.

He took to observing from a young age, desperate for social cues and leads. He attempted emulation, but as a child often failed, leading him from home to home. Shuffled through a broken system that neither liked nor cared for him. Those years were not ones he wished to linger on, but he couldn’t deny that they had helped him build an arsenal of tools that allowed him to excel at his work. Being guarded and watchful were gifts professionally. But personally? So many relationships were shot before they could even properly begin. He convinced himself it wasn’t troublesome. That it made life easier. Easier to push through life from one day to the next.

He lifted his hand, to knock on the door one last time, when he picked up the sound of light footfalls behind him.

“Are those for me?”

David turned. Grace stood at the bottom of the small staircase leading up to the porch, having just returned home from a morning run. Her cheeks and forehead flushed red and a thin sheen of sweat covered her face and neck. She wore a loose grey t-shirt and leggings, a thin hoody was tied around her waist. Strings of loose hair clung to her temples or floated like a strange crown around her head. Small clouds of smoke escaped her lips as she slowed her breathing. He looked down to his hand, where her gaze was focused. An early morning drive, to help better his thinking, had resulted in, not the right words, but flowers. The market on the corner of Main and Bradshaw had been stocked full at opening and he had had his pick. It was a small bouquet; sprigs of white daisies and purple hoary stock in place of olive branches. He nodded, opening his mouth in hopes that the right words would just tumble out.

“I’m an asshole-” He felt his own cheeks go hot.

Grace shook her head, hitching her hands on her sides with a breathy sigh. She looked towards the ground. “David, it’s fine-”

“No really, I-wasn’t even...My head’s be so full of-”

“David!” She laughed this time.

He stopped, blinking twice before daring to look her in the eye again. They were light, almost amused. Yesterday they had looked hazel, but under the glow of the early morning sky they seemed almost green. She smiled and stepped up to meet him, snatching the flowers from his hand and holding them up to her nose.

“They’re nice,” She said, whole-heatedly. “I can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers.”

David dodged her eye, the heat spreading from his face down his neck. A mixture of relief and nervous energy still broiling. It seemed too easy. All the officers at the station, they talked about their wives and girlfriends as if apologies were impossible.

“You…want to come inside? I have coffee.” Grace said, her voice lilting as she placed her hand on the door and pushed it open.

David settled into a chair at the head of a small oval table off the kitchen, waiting for Grace to return. After ushering him through the narrow front hall, passed the steps to the upper floor and into the family room off the kitchen, she had brought him a cup and excused herself to change. Out of habit, he began to appraise the home. It looked as though no work had been done to it since it had been built. The formal dining room across the hall had been converted into an office; stacks of papers and books were littered across a small folding table that doubled as a desk. A computer that looked to be older than anything he had come across in the precinct was already sitting in a box. The kitchen was small, with bulky walnut cabinetry and aging appliances. The family room was equipped with a small television, couch and recliner that seemed to have labored through the most use. There were few photos on the walls. A watercolor painting of a marina scene hung over a small electric fireplace in the corner next to screen door that led out to the backyard. There was a stale scent in the air. Dust. He could see it floating slowly, as if practically frozen in time, catching the light of the morning sun as it filtered lazily through the glass.

“Looks like you have your work cut out for you,” He said when she returned. She nodded, her eyes rolling back as she settled into the chair across from him. Simultaneously, they reached for their cups and drank. The coffee was black as night. Just how he liked it. Apparently how she liked it too.

After a moment’s quiet, Grace said softly, “I feel like I’m the one who should apologize.”

David sat up straighter. “No, Grace, I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s alright, really. I don’t know why I reacted that way.” She lifted the mug to her lips again, but paused before taking another drink. “I mean that was one of the reasons I left,” she took a sip and continued. “...And didn’t come back. Some people, that’s all they want to talk about. Martin never seemed to mind it but...I couldn’t stand it. Being the dead woman’s daughter. All that pity and nosiness...disguised as niceness. People I never knew would approach us about it. As if they had any right or reason other than morbid curiosity.”

David understood the feeling. It wasn’t often that he dated. Or even met with friends. They all wanted to talk about his work. Especially after the Dover case. He could sense when they were about to bring it up. Their eyes would take on a strange light. He could practically see the gear in their heads twisting and turning, trying to find a way to steer the conversation towards the case.

Grace set her mug down, exhaling. Her shoulder dipped down as if they had been pushed by some invisible weight. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear all of this. Hell, I don’t have time for it. The junk company is coming tomorrow and then the realtor and-”

“I can help.” David said.

Grace stopped, fixing him with a look of confusion. “What? No, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“No, really.” David said, leaning forward. He thought of his empty home across the road. The lack of errands. He thought of his desk at work and how he had been more or less banned from returning to it until the following Monday. “I know it won’t make sense, but...you’d be doing me a favor.”

It didn’t take much convincing, despite the oddity of the request. Once he was able to convince her that he wasn’t aiming to help simply out of guilt, they began to rifle through each room of the house. Boxes were filled, piles of papers tagged for lawyers, furniture pushed towards the center to account for the painters coming later in the week. To David’s relief, the day didn’t drag and before they knew it, the evening had home. Endlessly grateful and thoroughly exhausted, Grace put in an order for pizza. At David’s suggestion they crossed the street over to his house, where a refrigerator stocked with cold beer and a welcoming deck were waiting to be taken advantage of. They sat outside, watching a thin bank of clouds drift slowly over the lake, their colors shifting from a soft white to a pastel yellow to an alarmingly vivid shade of orange as the sun drifted further and further down.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do this all without you.” Grace said, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “But...I have good news and bad news.”

“Bad news?” David asked, reaching for his beer.

Grace squeezed her eyes shut, the corners wrinkling as she indulged in a playful wince. With a shake of her head, she buried her face into her knees for a moment before continuing bashfully, “There’s a basement.”

He smiled. It was small and fleeting. He wasn’t sure if she had seen it. They remained outside, talking softly and long into the night, until the all manner of sunlight dipped down below the treeline and the sky above became an inky blue sea of stars. As though they were, and always had been, old friends.

Wednesday.

David wandered over to her house at 12:15, after he saw the realtor pull out of the drive and drift down the road, out of sight. She opened the door at first knock, wearing a smile that was quickly becoming familiar to him.

“Afternoon,” She said breathlessly. She hitched one arm against the door, her hip jutting out in the opposite direction. A large box, filled with books and bearing the label Goodwill sat at her feet. Her hair was piled up on the top of her head, wisps and strings falling loosely around her face.

“Look at that, you have arms.” She joked, with a nod of her head. David looked down, feigning a laugh. The day was uncharacteristically warm and humid. A silver sun glared down through a layer of paper thin cloud cover, coating the land below with an odd, muted shadow. He left his jacket and button ups at home this time, instead sporting a jersey t-shirt and ravaged pair of jeans he pulled out when working on his own house. She was dressed similarly, wearing the same leggings as the day before and a cutoff shirt with thin, horizontal pinstripes.

“How’d it go?” He asked, following her through the narrow front hall.

“Oh, fine,” She said, making a hard left. “His dad was friend’s with Martin’s, so he’s going to cut me a deal which is nice. Now, I’m almost completely sure that everything down here can be trashed.”

She opened the door to the basement, absentmindedly pulling at a string of ribbon hanging just inside the doorway. A small bulb flickered on with a crackling snap, but it did little to properly light the wooden steps that led down.

“I’ve been too scared to look, but hopefully there’s not too much do-Ah!!”

A creak and a crash, followed by several smaller thumps and finally a sickening shatter, sent David rushing around the corner after her.

“Grace!?” He barked, bracings his hands against the frame of the door.

“Fine! I’m-I’m fine.” Came a garbled response from the shadowy depths below. David reached for the handrail.

“Wait! Stop!” She called, halting him in his tracks. “There’s a faulty step. I...forgot.”

“Are you alright?”

“-fourth one down, be careful.” She continued. “Ouch. Fuck me.”

He leapt passed it, taking the next few two at a time until he reached the bottom.

“There’s a switch. On the wall.” She mumbled, looking more like a mass of black shadow as David’s eyes attempted to adjust. He pressed his hand to the wall, flicking it on. A bank of old fluorescents buzzed to life. Grace was hunched over on her knees, her hair having fallen loose from the scrunchie.

He tried again. “Are you hurt?”

“Uff,” She breathed, pushing her hair away from her face. “I mean, my pride is yeah...and maybe my knee. Ow!”

She hissed, drawing her hand away. The tips of her fingers were coated in blood.

“God...dammit.” She said, shifting up so that she could sit on the last step. The unmistakable sound of glass scraping against concrete filled the room. David knelt down in front of her.

“Language, Abbott, please.” He tutted, with a wry smile. Grace huffed a laughed, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip as she tried to shake off the shock and the embarrassment. God, I hope he didn’t see. She thought, as the fall played back through her mind. She was fairly certain she had looked as graceful as a penguin tottering off to sea. She watched as he assessed the damage, trying to push the image far away.

“Looks like you landed on something.” He said, finally, his fingers gingerly pushing at the now flattened box that sat where she had fallen. It felt necessary, if not useless to state the obvious.

“Looks like it.” Grace said, her hands hovering over her knee. Sure enough, a few bits of grainy glass had torn through her leggings and looked to be embedded in her skin.

David stood, offering her his hand. “Here.”

She looked up, her face flushed red. She took it and he pulled her up, winding her arm around his neck so that he could better help her hobble up the stairs.

Grace sat atop the kitchen counter next to the sink, situated so that David could tend to her knee. He pulled a chair in from the living room and set it in front of her. She watched quietly as he rifled through a first aid kit. Where he’d managed to find it, she didn’t know. It must have been older than the pair of them. He still looks so young though. She thought, her eyes drifting down past his face to his neck. Except for the tattoos. Did he have those in high school? I can’t remember. That she recognized him, or anyone, was a surprise to her. Her senior year and been a blur of grief and determination. Conyers felt more like a prison then. A barrage of whispers and glance she was desperate to escape. When she couldn’t sleep she studied, earning herself valedictorian status and a full ride ticket out of town. She promised herself she would never look back. It meant losing touch with long kept friendships and starting from scratch. But it felt worth it. Now it seemed a little dramatic, but she was a teenager then.

Maybe it’s because he seems...the same, in some ways, She thought. Quiet and sedate. Many girls in her grade had spent some time nursing a crush on David Loki. He was the ‘new kid’ after all. A broody boy from the outskirts of town. No one had known him before he showed up on the first day of school. He was a loner. A mystery. Grace understood the appeal then, but never enough to act on it. Very few of them had. Even then, as an underweight, seemingly insomniatic teen, he had a strange air about him. As if he were haunted. Or the one doing the haunting. Grace had never been sure which. He had filled out since those high school days, but he still looked saturnine, as if a good day’s rest eluded him entirely.

She leaned back, her head hitting the cabinetry behind her. She looked around the room, feeling suddenly impolite for staring. The kitchen felt so small, smaller than she remembered. Her legs dangled off the edge of the counter, her feet swaying gently from side to side, as if caught in a breeze. She felt very much like a child, having tripped in the backyard and come bursting through the door with tears streaming down her face and crying for a parent. She could practically feel the heat of the tears, the wobbly path they would make before drying against her skin. She had been holding them back. Fighting them really. Since entering the house after so long. Despite her best efforts, there were still memories here. Small signs of her mother that Martin hadn’t willed away.

“Grace? Do you mind if I-?”

“Oh! No, I can-” Her hands went to her leg, fingers pulling at the torn fabric of her leggings, until she gathered all of it above the knee. She winced as she could now clearly see the bits of glass, tinged scarlet.

“This might sting,” David said softly. With surprising tenderness, her carefully pulled loose the pieces of glass, before pressing a damp cloth to the torn skin. Grace’s hands balled into fists as the antiseptic sunk into the shallow wounds. He let it sit for several seconds, before pulling it away and letting it fall into the sink at his right side.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Grace said, trying to fill the silence.

“We all go through some basic training at the academy.” He explained as he began to wrap her knee with a thin layer of bandage. She felt his finger brush the back of her leg and deftly lift it slightly. Quite strangely, she thought of Cinderella with her leg poised to receive the infamous glass slipper.

Christ Grace! She thought to herself, feeling her neck grow warm. You are no put upon damsel and he’s no...daring prince…

She looked down at him again, her eye catching sight of a small divot just above his left temple. Were it not for the closeness of his cut, she may not have noticed it at all.

That must be...She thought. “The bullet wound.”

“What?”

Oh shit. Grace thought. Did I...say that out loud?

With a heavy sigh, she shook her head. I just keep digging myself deeper. Well...what is it they say? In for a penny...

“I may have, um,” She flushed, leaning her head back against the cabinet again and gazing up and away. “-looked you up. Last night.”

He didn’t seem surprised.

She shrugged her shoulders. “The Dover-Birch case? That’s...quite a story.”

Dammit. She thought, eyes flicking shut as she prepared for the backlash. Why’d I say that?! I’m going to scare him off. As if he wasn’t wary already. Being a cop and all. She had seen the way he’d blanched at the bar. It wasn’t much more than a blink but it was all she needed to draw the proper conclusions. She had enough dealings with cops to know how they felt about her work. It didn’t bother her if they despised her. But David was...well, not a friend but...he was something.

He exhaled, long and low, but the breath didn’t carry the disdain or annoyance she expected. He almost sounded amused. That can’t be right. She looked back down at him. Surprisingly, a wry shadow of a smile ghosted across his face.

“Force of habit?” He said, almost teasingly as he tucked the remaining wrappings back into the kit before snapping it shut.

“I guess, yeah.” She said, sheepishly, feeling well and truly chastised.

He paused a moment, a far away look in his eye before standing up. Instead of moving away, he leaned towards her, bracing his hands on the edge of the counter, each one positioned a respectful distance from her legs. His face was level with hers now. And close. Almost uncomfortably so. At least it should have been. But it wasn’t.

His eyes. She thought, pressing her lips together in a thin line she could only hope was unreadable. They were deep and dark, as blue as oceans. She could see fleck of brown in the irises. He was close. So close. But not close enough. She swallowed hard as the realization came slowly. She wanted him closer. Needed it.

“Your exposé on the DWP was good.” He said, finally. “Really something,”

Her brow shot up.

“I...looked you up, too.” He said, a knowing smile flashing across his face.

Grace reciprocated. “Really?”

“Really.” The smile remained, tugging at one side of his mouth. Grace felt the yearning in her chest begin to churn and warm.

“Guess we’re both a little too curious, huh?” She said, lifting her hand up. “...May I?”

He tipped his head down. Ever gently, her fingers brushed the longer lengths of his hair up and back so she could better see the scar. Instinctively, he drew closer as her legs slid further apart. She could feel his breath, slow and warm against her neck. Her own breath hitched as she took in the angry, craggy line. It had mostly healed over, but she knew enough about these sorts of wounds to imagine what it had been. He tilted his head up again. She could feel his hands dragging across the counter, drifting closer and closer to touching her. Almost. But not quite. She let her fingers slide through the tendrils of his hair. Back and down until they could more easily cup the back of his neck. It was all the encouragement he needed. He leaned in, his lips pressing against hers. Softly at first. Her fingers tangled in the hair and pulled. Closer. They thought, almost in unison. She could feel his hands on her thighs now, clamping down and drifting upwards. Her hips rocked against him. Once. Twice. The next thing she knew she his hands were underneath her, pulling her up easily. Her legs wrapped around him tightly. Her arms reached around his shoulders and pulled at his shirt. His lips pulled away from her mouth for only a second. Enough time for her to whisper the question they both knew the answer to.

“Bedroom?”

He drew her off the counter and her legs unhooked, but his arm stayed tight around her waist, keeping her mouth in line with his. Her toes barely made contact with the floor as they moved down the hall. He paused just before the doorway, spinning her round. Her back hit the wall. He muttered an apology as he peppered kisses up her jawline. His hands were splayed on either side of her shoulders, his body pressing up against hers. She could feel the hardness of his form, from his chest all the way down.

“Don’t be-” She heard herself whisper, her breath ragged and raw. “Just keep going-”

She fumbled with her shirt, trying to loose her arm free. He was there, his hands pulling it up over her head. She followed suit, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it over.

They disappeared through the door, unable to wait any longer, the basement well as truly forgotten.

Just a little tease this time around, but there will be more soon! It’s been a while since I’ve written these kinds of scenes. I feel out of practice. >.< Thanks for reading! Hope to update very soon.

#detective loki #jake gyllenhaal #fanfiction #hyf

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andthentimestops · 6 years

Text

“to love something that cannot love in return”(pt 7) [Captain Allen X Android!Reader]

A/N: This was 10 pages on google docs holy heck. Also, thanks @magical-musical-imagines for reading this as I wrote it and for giving me awesome suggestions!! Thanks @imagine-me-writing for being the cutest bean <3

—

Tags:

@gespirida @blu42nj @sternenreigen @sethrine-imagines @yallgotkik @doot-doot-doottt @catwoo @nikkidawnlight @captain-winter-wolf-aehs @deviantprescott @sadmine @aeryntheofficial @wayablack @lionhearted-soldier @qtmeryr @heartsarecompatible @connorshero @ev3e @liveloveandbekind

—

What were you afraid of exactly?

Losing him?

But he wasn’t yours, was he?

Not yet, anyway... You were quite clear about that the day Captain Allen almost died for you.

You felt your heart twist painfully when you recalled how you’d stopped his confession, cut him off before he could profess his love to you. A part of you wished you’d let him continue, allowed him to continue to live in such a delusional state— a state in which he believed he’d truly fallen in love with you so quickly.

However, another part of you knew that you’d done the right thing. He didn’t love you, at least not yet. It wasn’t realistic, even for soulmates, to fall in love so quickly.

But what the hell did you know about humans and soulmates anyway?

What if he really did love you?

What if he didn’t ever say he loved you ever again?

What would you do?—

Captain Allen hissed in discomfort, the sharp sound shocking you out of your thoughts. Your hands jerked in surprise, eliciting a louder groan of pain from your soulmate’s lips. He gripped the fabric of his bedsheets harder, his knuckles had turned almost white from how hard he was clutching onto the blanket.

You felt a stab of guilt in your chest as you forced your previously distracting thoughts into the back of your mind, trying to focus solely on the task at hand.

You were on your knees, situated in between Captain Allen’s thighs as he sat on the edge of his bed, shirtless. Your hands moved gently as you redressed his wound, trying your very best to cause him as little discomfort as possible. A task you had obviously failed, judging from how tightly he’d clenched his jaw and fists after, deep in your thoughts, your hands somehow made a particularly sudden movement that caused what seemed like immense pain to the man.

Your eyes shot up to meet his, your apologetic gaze went unnoticed as his own pair of eyes had closed shut from the pain. He breathed deeply but slowly from in between his teeth.

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing a hand on his thigh softly, “I’m sorry, I was distracted.”

“It’s okay,” Captain Allen huffed, his eyes fluttering open as he tried to smile. He looked down to meet your gaze and felt his cheeks warm up for the nth time since you’d started doing his redressing just 20 minutes ago.

You were in a rather suggestive position for something that was by all means innocent in nature. But since it was clear your android innocence thought nothing much of the fact that you were on your knees between his legs, Captain Allen didn’t bring anything up, not wanting to make both of you feel embarrassed.

You smiled sympathetically back at him before you went back to removing his old bandage. His wound had dried and so the gauze was stuck to his healing skin, making it difficult to remove in one smooth pull.

A few more minutes went by in which neither of you spoke. Your previous thoughts of Captain Allen’s past love life threatened to resurface but you would push them further into the back of your mind, your desire to not cause him more pain was greater than your need to have any more self-deprecating thoughts.

While you worked meticulously in front of him, the SWAT captain continued to watch. He observed your hands move with careful slowness as you gently tried to pry off the remaining pieces of cloth stuck to his body. The wound was healing well, that’s for sure, but his body was a long way from being back to normal.

Captain Allen eyes travelled from your hands to your forearm where, thanks to the bright ceiling light of his bedroom, he could very clearly see the neatly printed soulmate tattoo. He felt a pang in his chest as he read and re-read the two harshly spoken words that had been engraved on your skin:

“Get out.”

Too often the man found himself wishing he could turn back the clock and say something nicer. Your skin didn’t deserve to be tainted by such hateful words spurred on by his immaturity and recklessness.

You could feel his gaze burning into your face as you finally managed to clean his wound of any traces of cloth that could’ve lingered. You then carefully poured the prescribed disinfectant over the raw skin with a towel placed on top of his crotch to prevent any spillage.

It was truly only then you’d realised how strange of a position you were in; from how quick your soulmate’s heart rate was, it was clear he’d known how awkward everything was from the very beginning. While you felt yourself get flustered, you were glad that neither of you brought up the odd predicament verbally for it would have definitely caused your central processing unit to fry.

Captain Allen hissed once again, this time his hand gripped your upper arm instead of his own leg. It was as though he wanted you to stop but seeing as he didn’t say anything, you continued to use the proper amount of disinfectant to clean his wound.

Seemingly unaware of what he was doing, the man slowly leaned his head forward until it touched yours. For a few moments, he stayed motionless, breathing deeply but slowly as the sizzling pain of the disinfectant covering his raw wound started to fade.

Captain Allen continued to press his forehead against yours, you could feel his warm breath brush across your skin, the mere sensation sent shock waves all over your body. You felt your thirium pump regulator go into overdrive as you struggled to keep your internal systems in check. The sudden flurry of emotions caused by such a simple gesture was almost too much to handle.

You kept your eyes on his torso, not wanting to tilt your head up to look at him in case the movement accidentally caused something rather intimate to happen. His stomach rose and fell slowly along with his deep breaths; you noticed a thin sheen of sweat had started to form on his chest.

You felt thirium shoot up to your cheeks when you found yourself realising how... muscled the man was. You’d almost never seen him in anything other than his usual bulky SWAT uniform, let alone shirtless so it was only then you really had the chance to see his body.

Blinking furiously, you tore your eyes away from his abdomen, thanking god that from the way he was leaning down he couldn’t see your eyes so shamelessly scanning over his shirtless form.

“Can I re-bandage it now?” You asked softly, a breeze of cold air caressed your face the moment he pulled away. The warmth you unknowingly bathed in before was now gone, leaving you cold as you silently wished he would lean back down again.

Captain Allen nodded, his hands now rested upon your shoulders casually as you skilfully wrapped a sterilised roll of cloth around his midsection. Your arms had to circle around his waist several times to do so; each time you could feel him breathe against your neck.

When you were done, you stood up, about to take a step back before his arms unexpectedly locked themselves around your body. Before you could even blink, Captain Allen had pulled you against him as he rested his face against your stomach. You fit comfortably in between his legs as he hugged you firmly.

“What’s wrong?” You asked softly as you rested a hand on top of his head, your fingers lightly threading through his hair. He hummed lowly in response. You could feel your heart racing wildly, you were sure he could hear it as well. “You are oddly affectionate,” you observed out loud as you repositioned your arms so that you ended up hugging his head.

He felt warm.

“Are you going home tonight?” Captain Allen asked, his voice muffled from his face being pressed against your tummy. It tickled.

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” you replied without thinking, though you meant what you said. If he wanted you to stay, you would without question.

“Stay.” Captain Allen’s arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer to him. It was as though if he didn’t hold on tight enough, you would disappear.

“Okay.” He let you go, eyes watching as you made your way to the other side of the rather large bed. You crawled into the bed in what seemed like the most awkward fashion possible. You couldn’t really blame yourself, though, your heart was still racing from before; in order for your body to have had enough energy to continue functioning at a minimal level, your central processing unit decided that sacrificing your motor functions was the best solution; thus, you ended up looking like a baby learning to move an all fours as you struggled your way to his side.

“Please, stop staring at me,” you pleaded the moment you realised that Captain Allen’s unwavering stare upon you only made you feel even more nervous. His only response was a light chuckle as he continued to watch your plight.

The audacity, you thought bitterly as you glared up at him, your attempt at being fearsome failing miserably since you then proceeded to flop ungracefully onto his huge-ass mattress. Didn’t the man live alone? Why did he require such a big bed?—

Unless he didn’t use to live alone.

—The lights turned off just seconds after you made yourself comfortable, leaving just you and Captain Allen side-by-side in the dark. You rested on your left side, your blue LED shining brightly in the darkness of his bedroom. You could tell Captain Allen was staring at it.

“Do you want me to turn it off?” You asked under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear you.

“No!” Your soulmate replied rather quickly, through the thick blanket of darkness you could see his eyes widen.

To him, your LED was rather distracting, yes, but too many times had he seen androids’ lights flicker into nothingness as their bodies turned into hollow shells. What if you turned off yours and it failed to light up again the next morning? He would’ve rather let the light blind him for eternity than to watch it fade away.

“Okay,” you responded gently, a stark contrast to Captain Allen’s own previous reply which was sharp like most of his words. “I’ll leave it on.” You then slowly brought your hand up to cup his face, your thumb caressing his cheek. You couldn’t see it but there was a faint scar there, you idly wondered how he got it. “Go to sleep.”

And within minutes, he did.

Once he was in deep sleep, you followed, swiftly entering Stasis Mode only to be rudely awakened from it hours into the night by the feeling of hands grabbing at your waist. Your eyes shot open as you panicked for a split second before realising that the hands belonged to Captain Allen himself. For a moment you believed he was awake and simply wanted to be weirdly affectionate again but his heart rate said otherwise.

He was completely and utterly asleep.

You felt your own calm heartbeat speed up as you allowed yourself to be pulled into your unconscious soulmate’s arms. Captain Allen locked his arms around you tightly as he rested his chin against the crown of your head. The man then proceeded to let out a particularly loud huff before going silent once again, now seemingly content that he had you in his arms.

A smile broke out on your face as you hugged him in return, shamelessly basking in the warmth that he emitted as you tucked your head underneath his chin. Shyly, you then tangled your legs with his, quickly discovering that you very much enjoyed being so physically close to him. It felt better than it should have, if you were to be honest, perhaps it was because you were simply making up for lost time…

Regardless, you stayed awake for an additional hour or two as you opted to relish in the feeling of being held by your soulmate with no desire to return to Stasis Mode. However, that was until, oddly enough, you began to feel just the slightest bit sleepy. You didn’t know that was possible but it was enough to convince you to re-enter Stasis Mode; you allowed yourself to drift off into artificial sleep, lulled by the sound of Captain Allen’s gentle heartbeat.

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by the sound of a call coming in. Your familiarly annoying ringtone sounded off in your head as you groaned before picking up the call.

“Good morning, (Y/N)!” Connor’s enthusiastically loud voice boomed in your ears. “I know it is a Sunday and that you are spending quality time with Captain Allen but your presence is required immediately at the station.”

“What? Why?” You asked, pulling your soulmate’s arms off of you as you continued to speak out loud, conveniently forgetting that Captain Allen was, in fact, still asleep and that your voice could easily awaken him.

“Captain Hewlette has information on the Zlatko case he would like to personally convey to you.”

“That’s ridiculously unnecessary.”

“I am aware.” Connor almost sounded as annoyed by the temporary SWAT captain as you were. “However, he insists on seeing you and childishly refuses to share with us the information unless you are present.”

“Fuck…” You cursed before exhaling deeply as you felt your internal systems begin to heat up from frustration. “Fine. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

You then briefly exchanged goodbyes before you scrambled out of bed. As much as you didn’t want to go to work on a Sunday, you knew that the sooner you got it over with, the better. You cursed again when you realised you didn’t have any proper work clothes at Allen’s place and so, you opted to grab whatever seemed the most fitting for you before putting them on, ignoring the fact that the only other person in the room was wide awake and watching you bashfully.

“You’re not even going to ask?” Captain Allen spoke finally after you were finished changing. Luckily, while his words could’ve been interpreted as angry or annoyed, his tone was more cheeky than anything.

“I thought human men liked seeing their significant others in their clothing?” You asked innocently in return, watching proudly as his face turned red. “I’ll come back as soon as Hewlette’s done with whatever he’s up to—”

“Wait,” Allen cut you off, “Hunter Hewlette? That douchebag you said keeps eyeing you at work?”

“Yep,” you replied, ending off with a sigh that simply conveyed the message of: oh well. “Connor said he’ll only share what he’s gotten on the Zlatko case if I’m there so I gotta go, I guess.”

“What a little bitch.”

“I agree.”

—

You sat at your desk, deeply annoyed, as you waited for Hewlette to return from yelling like a spoilt brat inside Captain Fowler’s office. You’d arrived to work three hours ago, half an hour earlier than you said you would, and ever since then, you’d been waiting for the temporary SWAT captain to finally quit yelling at his boss and tell you what you needed to know so that you could leave.

You fiddled idly with a rubber band as your eyes continued staying glued to the, quite frankly, entertaining scene taking place just a few metres away. Hewlette was slamming his hands down on Fowler’s table as he shouted what looked to be demands that weren’t being met while the latter simply watched his subordinate throw a tantrum in his face. If you weren’t in such a hurry to return back to Captain Allen’s place, you would’ve hoped the debacle continued on for another hour or so just for the heck of it.

Just five more minutes, you thought to yourself, I’ll stay for just five more minutes and if nothing happens, I’ll leave— Oh for fuck’s sake!

Fowler, from within the comfort of his office, gestured at you to go over. You legitimately considered slamming your head against your table but since that was unprofessional, you simply released a loud groan of annoyance before making your way to the Captain’s office.

“Thank you for being here, Detective (L/N),” Fowler said apologetically the moment you shut his office door behind you. The previously furious Hewlette had stopped throwing a fit and instead was smiling at you as though nothing ever happened.

“It’s no problem at all, sir,” you lied, trying your best to ignore Hewlette’s relentless staring. His eyes felt as though they were trying to see through your clothes. It was more irritating than it was uncomfortable.

“Captain Hewlette here—”

“Temporary Captain,” you corrected, not caring how rude it was to interrupt your boss as you only felt a strong wave of satisfaction wash over you after noticing how, out of the corner of your eye, Hewlette’s smug smile fell.

Fowler squinted at you but proceeded to speak anyway, not bothering to correct you since you weren’t technically wrong. You resisted a smile upon seeing how Hewlette had begun to straight up just frown.

“He’s requested for you to be transferred back to SWAT.”

“Why?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “I don’t mean to be rude,” you said ironically, “but I don’t see why that’s necessary.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been telling Mr Hewlette here for the past few hours,” Fowler replied, putting no effort whatsoever into pretending that he wasn’t annoyed. “However, he refuses to listen to me. He only seems to want to communicate properly with you so I was hoping you could reject him yourself.”

Captain Fowler spoke to you as though Hewlette wasn’t just standing by your side and you loved it. It was amazing how professional Fowler sounded speaking such unprofessional words. You nodded before turning to your colleague with a smile on your face, “I do not want to join you in SWAT.”

“You don’t have to lie just because Captain Fowler is here!” Hewlette replied a little too loudly for your taste. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, (Y/N). I know you want to be with me.”

You scoffed in disgust.

“What the hell are you on about, Hewlette?”

“Aw, c’mon, (Y/N),” he reached out to touch your shoulder, to which you responded with a grimace and a step away as you felt your skin crawl at the idea of him making any form of contact with you. “I’ve caught you looking at me so many times, just admit you like me—”

“You’re delusional, rookie,” a voice you totally did not expect to hear cut Hewlette’s borderline creepy ramblings off. You spun around, feeling a great sense of relief wash over you as your eyes met those of your soulmate’s. Captain Allen marched in, his eyes glaring at Hewlette in an almost predatory manner as he positioned himself between you and his temporary successor. “Both (Y/N) and Captain Fowler said no,” Allen nearly growled, “so back off.”

“Who the hell are you?” Hewlette spat at Allen, though his eyes remained glued onto you, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Soulmate.” Allen replied simply, ignoring the way Captain Fowler’s eyes widened in surprise but other than that he remained silent, quite honestly enjoying watching his SWAT leader tear down the child inside a man’s body.

“Oh, so you’re the one who put those disgusting words on (Y/N)’s arm?” Hewlette snorted, grinning when he noticed how Allen’s tough expression falter ever so slightly. “Shouldn’t Detective (L/N) be with someone who actually wants them, hmm? Someone who’s always seen them as a person? Judging from (Y/N)’s tattoo it seems like you had a hard time accepting them from the start, huh? Who’s to say you’ve gotten over that already, Captain?”

Captain Allen remained silent for a while. The tension in the office was so thick it was almost suffocating. Hewlette stared down at your soulmate with a disgustingly smug look on his face, obviously believing that he’d won the argument already, completely unaware of the rage building within you.

“How dare you?” You snarled, stepping out from behind Captain Allen before you pushed Hewlette backwards harshly. “You are a slimy piece of shit, Hewlette. The only reason why you stand here today as a temporary SWAT captain is because the obviously more capable, permanent one almost died trying to save me.

“You’re delusional. You don’t see me as a person, you see me as a piece of meat that you could use for your own pleasure. All the times I stared at you was in pure disgust because you couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself!” You shoved him once again. “Stop being such a spoilt bitch and just accept the fact that I will never join SWAT while you are captain. In fact,” you whipped your head around to look at a shell-shocked Captain Allen, “I’ll request for a transferral when David returns from medical leave.”

You turned back to Hewlette who honestly looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“Give Connor everything you know about the Zlatko case by tonight, got it?” He nodded slowly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be returning home with my injured soulmate who should be resting.”

You grabbed Captain Allen’s hand before swiftly leading him out of the precinct, not saying a word the entire time. Only when you were a good distance away from the building did you slow down to match his pace. The both of you walked side-by-side in silence with your hands still interlocked; neither of you wanted to let go.

“Thanks for coming to ‘save’ me,” you finally spoke as Captain Allen’s modest neighbourhood came into sight.

“I didn’t even do much,” he chuckled, idly rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand as he spoke, “you were pretty cool back there.”

“So were you.”

The conversation didn’t carry on from there as the both of you simply opted to stay silent and enjoy each other’s company. Captain Allen began to swing your interlaced hands back and forth as you strolled along the pavement towards his home; every swing made your heart skip a beat.

It felt like the best moment of your life, just walking alongside your soulmate as you hold hands, swinging them around like little kids.

It would’ve been the perfect moment if it weren’t for the high-pitched voice that yelled out David Allen’s name from a distance, causing him to freeze on the spot almost instantly. You glanced around to look for whoever had called for his attention only for your eyes to land on the lady in the picture.

#dbh #detroit become human #imagines #captain allen #captain allen x reader

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rowdy-revenant · 6 years

Text

It’s The Full Moon, Martin Priest

Pairings: None (please do not tag as drummerwolf)

Characters: Martin (Priest), Suzie Boreton, Mr. Palacios, Cross, Gripps, Vogel, Drummer (Amanda Brotzman)

Warnings: Minor body horror, OOC Martin, smoking mention, bitchy customers, swearing, nudity

Prompt: 13. Werewolves

A/N: This is for the @dghdaspookfest - It’s about the Rowdy 3 but it’s Martin-centric. I’ve set it up so a part 2 is possible but not necessary.

Words: 2100+

[Read it on AO3] [DGHDA masterlist]

Martin’s whole body was in pain. Sweat poured down skin that felt too tight, skin then felt like it was being stretched beyond what should have been possible. His bones cracked, elongating, rearranging themselves.

He pushed himself. Run a little further, just a little bit further, he told himself. Still his lungs were screaming for air and his feet were on fire, trapped in shoes that were feeling too small. Martin collapsed in a clearing in the woods and began to tear off his clothes.

He kicked off his shoes, the left one’s sole had already torn off. His fingers, with nails that were getting longer and sharper by the second, fumbled to take the tie off from around his neck. His shirt tore and he ripped it off his body, a sense of momentary relief washing over him as he was free from the confines of the long sleeved, collared shirt.

Martin looked down at his pants then hesitated. He couldn’t take his pants off and be found naked in the woods! He could be arrested! A second, louder thought shouted over the first one; dear God take these pants off! Martin clawed at the belt around his waist, undoing it and tossing it into the growing pile of discarded clothes. He wrestled with his pants, gasping when his legs were finally free. He then looked down at his underwear, paused, then took those off too.

In the desperate race to get undressed, Martin’s black rimmed glasses had slipped off his face. He didn’t notice until he saw them on the ground. He saw them. For a good few decades of Martin’s life, he had been as blind as a bat — no, even more blind than a bat — without glasses. Yet the world was slowly coming into focus around him, even without them on, even as the fading light of day was replaced with black night.

He could hear his own heart racing, pounding in his chest. He heard his rapid breathing, heard the wind rustle the leaves around him, and worst of all, he could hear his body creak and tear at the seams.

A pained groan escaped his mouth, low and guttural, changing into something more of a growl. It hurt so badly. Never before had Martin felt this amount of pain. Not when his brother broke his nose, not when he had been hit in the ribs with a bat during baseball practice, hell not even in that crash that had taken his mother away from him.

Martin watched his body change. Thick, black hair grew everywhere, his skin becoming completely covered by it. No, it wasn’t hair. That was fur. His body stretched, rearranged itself into a shape that was barely recognizable as human. He spat out blood that had started to fill his mouth when sharp fangs protruded from his gums.

Martin watched as the fur enveloped the mark on his wrist. A tattoo, if you could call it that, of a moon. A full moon.

Martin was terrified. He was in pain.

He was hungry.

If you went back by just a day, you would have never guessed that Martin would be in this situation now.

Martin Priest, the quiet and proper desk clerk at the Perriman Grand Hotel, naked and rolling around in the forest in the middle of the night? Don’t be absurd.

Martin drummed his fingers on the desk and pushed his glasses further up his nose. He stared at his reflection in the polished countertop. He could use a shave. His boss didn’t think it was a good impression to have “a scruffy hooligan greet the guests.”

Work trudged on. The clock ticked. Elevators dinged. It could be worse, Martin thought. I could still be a bellhop. Martin definitely didn’t miss that dumb red hat. He had worked hard for this promotion.

Still this mundane work at the hotel was so incredibly boring, Martin wondered if it were really worth it. He hated wearing a tie, that thin and incredibly difficult to tie strip of fabric always felt too tight around his neck. The only jewelry that was permitted for men was wedding rings. Martin wasn’t married, hell he hadn’t dated in over a year.

His ex had told him he didn’t “live enough”. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Martin was alive, wasn’t that good enough? So the idea of a painful tattoo freaked him out, or the idea of dyeing his hair felt like too much of a commitment (“That shit is permanent!”). Martin just couldn’t handle that big of a leap into something crazy and long-lasting.

Part of him wanted to. Part of Martin yearned to do something fun with his dark, drab, hair. Maybe he could get a tattoo, a small and hidden one that his boss wouldn’t notice. Maybe he could go to more parties, try to get out of his shell. Maybe he could finally come out as bi. But still… he was afraid to.

Lost in his own head, Martin didn’t notice the woman until she had stormed right up to his desk. Slamming a manicured hand down onto the bell repeatedly, this blonde, soccer-mom looking woman had a look on her face somewhere between “unstoppable rage” and “I just ate a lemon”.

“Hello?! Hellooooo!!” the woman yelled.

Martin blinked, straightened his tie, and got ready to diffuse this ticking time bomb. “Pardon me ma’am,” he spoke, his southern accent a little out of place, his quiet voice only just audible. “How can I help you?”

“I want a refund,” she huffed.

“I’ll see what I can do, ma’am. Can I get your room number?” Martin asked.

The woman huffed as if Martin should know her room number just by looking at her. “201.”

Martin looked through the computer system before delivering a response. “I- I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t refund your room. You’ve been kicked out.”

“Well I want my money back!” yelled the woman, who the computer told Martin was Suzanne Boreton. “I paid to stay here and I’m being forced out before I should be, so I want my money back!”

“Ma’am, it doesn’t-”

“It was just a little weed!” Suzanne exclaimed. “Scottie had the window open the whole time!”

“Smoking of any kind is prohib-”

“It’s barely smoking. I want my money back, and an apology to my son!” Mrs. Boreton yelled. She was attracting the attention of other guests in the lobby now. Martin wished he could just hide behind his desk and the woman would disappear.

“I can’t do that, Mrs. Boreton. I’m sor-” Martin began.

“Oh you’re going to be sorry!” Suzanne cackled. Oh god, was she going to ask for his manager?

Instead, Suzanne drew a long, thin stick from her purse. It looked like a twig she had picked off the ground, or maybe even some kind of junk she had bought from a hipster-y, holistic-y, fake magic mumbo jumbo shop. She pointed it at Martin, who stood there not knowing what to do, and mumbled a few nonsense words. Nothing happened.

Then Martin’s arm began to burn. It was like a hot brand was being pressed on his skin on the inside of his wrist. He rolled up his shirt sleeve to look at it. His skin was bright red, but a black mark was beginning to form. A circle, slowly becoming more detailed. A full moon. Martin clutched his wrist with his other hand, gritting his teeth in pain. What the hell was going on? This was impossible!

“Martin? What’s going on here?”

Oh, crap. Martin pulled down his sleeve as his boss approached. “Sir, I-”

“Is everything okay here, ma’am?” Martin’s boss asked Mrs. Boreton.

“I was just leaving,” Suzanne huffed, sticking her nose up in the air. “You really should hire better employees.” And with that, she walked off.

“Martin, what was that?” Palacios asked.

“I- I-” Martin stammered, rubbing his aching wrist. “She got kicked out of her room but wanted a refund.”

“Well you didn’t have to make a scene!”

“I made a scene?” Martin asked. “She was-”

“Enough,” his boss cut him off. “What’s going on with your arm?”

“I don’t kn-”

“Is that a tattoo?”

Sure enough, part of the mark poked out from under Martin’s sleeve. “No, it-”

“Don’t lie to me, Priest, you know that tattoos aren’t allowed for employees. We’re running a respectable business, not a circus.”

“But-!”

“Pack up your things.”

“I’m fired?!” Martin exclaimed.

“You’ve caused enough trouble,” his boss said, nodding. “Pack up your things and leave. If you’re still here in an hour, I’ll have to get security to escort you out.”

Martin? Causing trouble? Martin, the quiet, sheepish, scared-of-his-own-shadow man, causing trouble?

Before he could argue, his boss walked off, leaving Martin with an hour to leave, no job, and an unnatural mark on his wrist.

When Martin woke up, he couldn’t remember the events of the night. He remembered changing, but nothing after that. His body was human again, but not the same as before. A little taller, a little hairier too. His senses felt amplified, hell he could see without his glasses!

Still his head throbbed and his mouth tasted funny, like the world’s weirdest hangover. Martin licked his lips, trying to determine the strange taste. Metallic… blood. What had happened? Whose blood was that? Martin had a sinking feeling it wasn’t his own.

“HI, THERE!”

Martin jumped at the voice then scrambled to cover his naked body.

“Here,” said another voice. A bearded man stood before Martin, a small group behind him. He held out a neatly folded pile of slightly torn clothes, a pair of black rimmed glasses sitting on top. “These are yours, right?”

Martin nodded, then took them. “Thank you… can you uh...” The group turned around as Martin put on what remained of his clothes. “Thanks,” he muttered, letting them know it was safe to look back again.

“I’m Vogel!” the energetic first voice said. A younger man with wild, partially shaved hair stood next to the first man. He gestured to the one who handed Martin his clothes. “That’s Gripps, that’s Cross, and that’s Drummer!”

Vogel gestured to two others. Another man, presumably Cross, who had shaggy hair and a circle tattoo around his eye. Drummer was a woman with sunglasses, holding a black parasol.

They all wore clothes of a similar style. Mostly black, probably second hand, and unmistakably… punk.

“I- I um…” Martin stammered. “I can explain?”

“First shift?” Cross asked.

“Recently bitten?” Gripps added.

“Yes, and um… no?” Martin answered. “I wasn’t bitten but-”

“Born?” Vogel asked.

“What?”

“Cursed!” Cross exclaimed. “You got the tattoo! Man, yours is so much cooler than mine!” He gestured to the circle around his eye.

“Are… are you all like me too?” Martin asked, bewildered by these strangers.

“Werewolves? Duh!” Gripps laughed. “Oh, apart from Drummer.”

Drummer flashed a smile, revealing long and sharp canines. “I’m usually asleep right now, but I wanted to stay up to say hi.”

“V-v-vampire?”

“No, I’m just really goth,” Drummer replied. “Yeah, vampire.”

“Vampires and werewolves are real?” Martin asked, already knowing the answer. Of course they were real.

“Yup! Welcome to the club!” Cross greeted. “I was cursed, like you, but Gripps was bitten. Vogel was born a werewolf, third generation. He’s the most experienced outta all of us.”

“Cursed… of course,” Martin mumbled. “That b… woman with the stick.”

Drummer laughed. “You can swear, dude.”

“That…. That damn bitch!” Martin exclaimed. God, that felt good. “That fuckin’ witch! She cursed me then got me fired! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” The others laughed and cheered him on.

“What’s your name?” Drummer asked.

“Martin.”

“Well, Martin,” Gripps began. “We found you wandering around last night, howling your head off. You ate a rabbit then passed out.”

“First nights are rough,” Cross nodded. “But you get the hang of it and eventually start having fun!”

“I didn’t eat a person,” Martin sighed.

“Ewwww!” Vogel grimaced.

“We don’t eat people,” Gripps explained. “It’s a myth. Mostly just eat animals, or raw meat from the butcher’s. Or like… normal food. And beer.”

“Drummer gets blood bags from a friend, we don’t harm nobody,” Cross agreed. “Sometimes we get a bag for the full moon, like a treat.”

“TREAT?” Vogel asked, looking up. Drummer patted his head, promising a treat later.

“You wanna join?” Drummer asked. Martin nodded and she smiled. “Welcome to The Rowdy 3.”

“But there’s-”

“Martin, Martin, Martin,” Cross tutted. “Lotsa things won’t matter anymore.”

“Like math!” Vogel chimed in.

Gripps nodded. “Or jobs.”

“Or driving with your head inside the car,” Cross added.

“Rules,” said Gripps.

“Glasses,” Vogel said, nodding at the pair in Martin’s hand.

“But I liked my glasses…”

Drummer patted Martin’s shoulder. “We can get you a fake pair. Don’t worry. There’s a whole other world out there,” she told Martin. “It’s a lot of fun, trust us.”

#dghda #the rowdy 3 #martin #vogel #cross #gripps #amanda brotzman #suzie boreton #martin priest #werewolf au #body horror #part 2?#dghda spookfest 2k18

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thethespacecoyote · 6 years

Text

“Don’t Wish Me a Merry Christmas”

She and Jack almost never got presents for each other around Christmas, and if they did they were usually given with little if any mention of the holiday. Jack usually forgot to wrap his, and Nisha often just tossed it into a bag left over from past gifts. But when Rhys used Jack’s credit card and bought a tree that almost touched the top of the penthouse and proceeded to spend two hours decorating it with Angel, she knew that anything half-assed wouldn’t fly. And as much as Rhys’ Christmas shit annoyed her, she didn’t want to see the kid disappointed. It was like watching an abused kitty commercial. Nisha had a tough skin but even she wasn’t that cold-hearted.

So it was for Rhys’ sake—cute little festive parasite that he was—that she was braving the pinstriped den of horror itself. The mall, one week before Christmas Eve.

First day of Requestmas done! For the lovely @dauverney who had an idea about Nisha hating Christmas, but reluctantly braving it to go and buy some gifts for her boys :) Just some modern AU fluff with Rhackisha and some bonus Angel too.

Nisha hated Christmas.

Most people were surprised when they heard that. She got a lot of “but everyone likes Christmas!” or “Jeez, what did Christmas ever do to you?” from astonished wannabe well-wishers. Lately she’d taken to telling people her dog died the morning of, or if they were especially annoying she’d upgrade the death from a car accident to a drunken Santa on a rampage. Tragedy tended to make people back off and feel embarrassed they’d ever asked.

So Yeah. Christmas. Nisha. Mixed about as well as hot chocolate and motor oil.

Though the deluge of holiday crap pissed her off, up until lately she’d been able to ignore it pretty good through years of practice. Avoid malls and promenades. Order most things online. Stick to the single classic rock radio station in her truck that had yet to betray her strict no-Christmas music ban.

But due to some recent changes she was about ready to bit the head off the next festive fanatic that entered her crosshairs.

Like most things that annoyed her, it all started with Jack. He used to dislike Christmas right alongside her. A regular Scrooge she could commiserate with, who would groan and roll his eyes whenever one of the thousands of holiday standards infected even quasi-neutral zones like liquor stores or the DMV. They spent nights others might waste going caroling or decorating cookies instead drinking beer and having rough, secular sex. Their apartment stayed its sleek color palette of black and white and yellow without a trace of red or green infected its modern chic.

That was, until Rhys had popped into their lives.

Nisha had never been opposed to adding another partner to their duo. A third person had occasionally crossed into their relationship over the years, but usually Jack tired of them within a couple of weeks or the slight edge to the couple’s relationship put them off (and on occasion, sent them running for the door). The option had always been there, but no one had exactly fit the bill, up until a little middle manager in Jack’s company had caught the CEO’s wandering eye. It’d been around Valentines’ Day. Jack had called it fortuitous. Nisha thought he just wanted an extra present. But couple choice flirtations and a handful of dates with Nisha tagging along to make the nature of the relationship blatantly obvious to the dumbstruck young man had soon caught him hook, line and sinker. By June, he’d moved in with them.

Nisha didn’t hate Rhys. Not at all, really. It’d taken some getting used to, the fact that her boyfriend having a boyfriend meant she now had to deal with two, but she liked him. He was slender enough but thick in all the places Nisha liked, and though he was sweet he could give sass right back when Jack was being a little brat about something stupid.

But when Nisha had woken up on the first of November to find that the Halloween decor had been replaced by garlands and holly as the smell of vanilla-peppermint candles filled the air—she’d known there’d be trouble.

Rhys wasn’t nearly as crazy about Christmas as some of the people Nisha had run into had been, but it was still enough to put her off just a little bit. The month had barely started and he’d already bought matching sweaters for the three of them and even Angel, and had roped Jack into doing such cloyingly festive shit as decorating ornaments, ice skating, and making a gingerbread house. Now thoroughly brainwashed, Jack had even bought Rhys tickets to the frikkin’ ballet so they could sit on their butts for two hours and watch people dance to the same music blared on every single commercial that she had to endure. Mercifully, Angel had had a swim meet that evening, so Nisha had been able to dodge that bullet, though Rhys had ended up humming the melodies in the shower the next morning and even Jack had mumbled along to the tune as he’d made his coffee.

They were so mushy with each other that it was small wonder to Nisha that they didn’t melt. They nuzzled their noses together over peppermint hot chocolate bobbing with snowflake marshmallows, blushing like kids on a cold winter’s day. It was like a fucking Hallmark card and Nisha’s head was practically spinning off her neck at Jack’s sudden holiday whiplash.

So it was for Rhys’ sake—cute little festive parasite that he was—that she was braving the pinstriped den of horror itself. The mall, one week before Christmas Eve.

Jack’s wealth afforded them a nice place to live in a bougie neighborhood full of fancy boutiques, speciality foods, and high-priced knick-knacks, all of which were on full display in the shopping mall nearly the size of a small airport. Thanks to the acres of parking, she managed to find a space to squeeze her maroonn truck in without scraping the paint of the Mercedes Benz on her left.

The sight of so many cars circling the mall like sharks made her queasy. The wreaths hanging from every streetlamp seemed like signs screaming “Turn Back Now!” But the sound of the other car door opening sealed Nisha’s face as Angel popped out, bundled in an oversized cargo jacket with colorful reusable shopping bags already slung over her shoulder.

“You ready?” She piped up as she grabbed Nisha’s hand. The sheriff worried her lip before remembering she’d agreed to let Angel put some lipstick on her before they’d left. She cringed for a moment, then nodded.

“God. All right. Suppose we’re already here.”

Nisha only felt more dread as they walked towards the entrance to the mall, navigating the cars still fishing for a spot. There were already way too many people for her comfort level, most of them either yakking or screeching way too loud or looking like they might snap and kill someone if they didn’t get the latest game system for their warbling crotch spawn. She felt tense, hand Angel was holding jerking almost instinctively to where she usually kept her gun clipped as they entered through the sliding doors into the mall proper.

Naturally, the crowds inside were even worse.

“Oh god damn it, look at this shit,” Nisha groaned as she was hit with not only the sight of hundreds more stressed, obnoxious shoppers, but also an audible wall in the form of some sugar-pop cover of “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.” A song which, honestly? Kind of felt like an omen at this point.

“Ugh. Fuck me.”

“Dad would be mad if he knew you were swearing in front of me…” Angel said with a giggle.

“Yeah, well Jack can go suck eggs,” Nisha hissed, shaking her head. “It’s all because of him that I gotta do this anyway.”

“Hey c’mon, it’ll be nice. Rhys has been really cool to me this year and I really want to get him something special…” Angel smiled, and damn if the kid didn’t make Nisha melt a little bit. It was kind of why she’d brought her along, anyway. Would probably stop the sheriff from going completely fucking bonkers with the sheer Christmas overload she’d have to endure.

The mall’s main atrium was dominated by the biggest Christmas tree Nisha had ever seen—so big it had to be fake, plastic needles simply perfumed with pine scent—surrounded by boxed presents nearly half the height of the average adult and certainly bigger than most the kids squealing and trundling about. Twinkling lines of crystal and LED draped the trees branches, every inch fat with bight red ornaments bigger than Nisha’s head. Garish signs wished her a Happy Holidays while also advertising expensive Santa photo packages. She was just happy Angel was too old and Jack too cynical to fall for that kind of nonsense.

“So, uh…” The sheriff scratched her head, looking about. “Where do we go?”

Nisha hadn’t heard of half of these boutiques. Most of the clothing outside of her uniform was either old stuff or had been bought by Jack, and while he occasionally spoiled her with a fancy dress or jacket for date nights, typically he just gave her his credit card and told her to get whatever she wanted. Her wardrobe consisted mostly of pants and tops and accessories that, while nice, weren’t as pointlessly expensive as some of this stuff. She already had the status, the symbols were a little superfluous.

But Rhys got a kick out of having access to this fancy stuff he’d never been able to have before. Nisha remembered he almost cried when Jack gifted him a Rolex for his birthday. Kid had been little more than an ordinary Hyperion programmer when Jack had plucked him for his personal harem, and he still got a little starry-eyed in a way Nisha no longer did whenever Jack decided to shower him in designer gifts.

So she ended up following Angel’s more fashion-savvy lead, making sure not to lose the teen in the crowds as they squeezed their way into the mall’s least-busy Hugo Boss. Angel had brought along her own allowance, so Nisha let her buy a couple of pairs of socks for Rhys, which ended up rolled all nicely and packed in a little red box with a bow on top. Her own credit card picked up a navy cashmere scarf and a slim pair of leather gloves that’d look good on the kid’s long fingers.

Angel offered to carry the gives in her patterned cloth bag as they trundled off in the direction of the Crate & Barrel Nisha was sure you could land a plane in.

Jack had been bitching about a stand mixer ever since Rhys had confessed his favorite pie was lemon meringue over Thanksgiving dinner, so Nisha picked out the fancier model in the shiny red chrome and put it on hold so she wouldn’t have to lug the damn thing around all afternoon. The price tag had made her briefly reconsider—taking into account the likelihood that Jack would only use it once—but she pushed that out of her mind. As annoyed as the whole Christmas charade made her feel, there was a prickle of enjoyment deep inside at the idea of buying something she knew Jack had talked about. It made her feel a little sly as she added a maplewood rolling pin and a springform pie dish to her lover’s present haul.

They took a break from the crowds to sit on one of the many benches ringing one of the mall’s many decorative water features. Nisha slipped Angel a ten dollar bill and told her to get a waffle cone from one of the fancy ice cream kiosks. While she was gone Nisha darted away, coming back to sit in the same place with a nondescript little black bag next to her by the time Angel returned.

“What’s that?” Angel asked, pointing it out as she licked at the veritable mountain of strawberry-chamomile ice cream overloading the poor cone.

“Adult stuff. You wouldn’t wanna know.”

“I’m not so sure about that…”

“Kid it’s probably gonna go up Rhys’ butt, you definitely don’t wanna know.”

“Eww.” Angel pulled a face, trying to distract herself with the ice cream as Nisha perused the presents they’d already bought.

“Feels like…I dunno. Feels like there should be something more here.” Nisha hummed, bobbing her leg. “Christ. This is like a freaky kind of rush. No wonder all these people are subjecting themselves to this.” She gestured vaguely at the crowds milling about.

“Any ideas, kid?”

Angel crunched into her waffle cone, chewing thoughtfully.

“Well,” she spoke from behind her hand, “how ‘bout we check out one of those fancy jewelry stores?”

Nisha hadn’t set foot in one of these places since she’d been little and dragged along by her mother. They’d always seemed a little too clean for her tastes, like a doctor’s office almost, with its pure white carpeting and sleek shiny cases and uniformed security.

She pursed her lips, wrapping her arms around herself as she took a cautious step towards the jewelry laid delicately out in the long glass displays. Angel bustled towards the earrings, leaving Nisha alone to browse something her boys might like. She had already started to dismiss the idea of getting them jewelry the moment she’d walked into the store, but to her surprise something almost immediately caught her eye.

Right smack dab in the middle of the main case were were two pretty rings paired next to each other that practically took Nisha’s breath away. Silver, embedded with fine strands of diamond and that broke around the metal like sap bleeding from a tree. She wasn’t exactly a huge fan of jewelry, but damn.

She put her hands on the top of the glass, peering up close. The rings’ stones twinkled like the enticing little bastards they were. Fuck. Those would look damn good on her boyfriends’ fingers.

“Oooh, those are soooo cool!” Angel awed as she bobbed over from the earrings case, pointed at the pair of rings. Nisha nodded in agreement.

“No kidding. You think your dad and Rhysie would like ‘em?”

“Oh yeah. Rhys likes blue, and dad likes blue ‘cause Rhys likes blue.”

Angel tapped her hand.

“You should get one for yourself, too.”

Nisha snorted.

“C’mon, Ang. I’m buying stuff for the guys, not for me. Doesn’t buying yourself a Christmas present kind of defeat the whole purpose? Besides,” Nisha held out her hand, “silver doesn’t really look good on me. Gold, platinum, maybe, but silver? Nah.”

She bought the two rings before she could second-guess the purchase, watching as the jeweler lovingly placed them in a pair of delicate heart-shaped boxes. The little knowing smile on her red lips annoyed Nisha slightly as she took the gift bag from her hand, Angel quickly thanking their clerk as the sheriff tramped out of the store and back out into the hustle and bustle.

When they returned home, Jack and Rhys were already there filling the house with the smell of baking cookies. Rhys giggle and shut his eyes when Angel shouted at them to look the other way, and when Jack didn’t do the same he covered his face with a palm dusted in flower. Nisha gathered the presents from Angel, letting her gossip with her father and Rhys about the mall as she went to go hide them in the furthers corner of their closet, underneath the suits in the way back that Jack never bothered to wear.

Cookie decorating seemed lame but as Nisha stripped down and sat on the couch in her boxers and a loose tank top, she still needled Jack to save her one before they ruined them all with frosting and sprinkles.

Christmas morning came quicker than Nisha had expected.

She and Jack had been in a dead sleep, her arm flung across his chest, when Rhys had bustled into their bedroom with small tray balancing three cups of coffee. Nisha had been irritable for a moment as she shook sleep from her eyes, but perked up at the sight and smell of coffee prepared just the way she liked it.

With enough caffeine now in his system Jack was able to trundle out of bed and whip together some apple cinnamon pancakes that drew Angel out of her bed and into the living room where piles of gifts now lay underneath their massive tree. The thing was decked head to do with enough ornaments to sink a small ship, and wrapped with so many lights that they reflected against the pure white walls like a stained glass window. Rhys welcomed Angel with a tight hug and a mug of mint tea to go along with the pancakes as they all took a seat on the couches and began to divvy up the gifts.

Each had a stocking to go along with their haul, ostensibly stuffed with gifts from “Santa” marked with handwriting that was obviously Jack’s—if the ham-fisted wrapping job didn’t already give that away. But they all played along, tongue in cheek as they thanked the man in red for giving them their favorite candies and little stocking-stuffers. Nisha was grateful for the kitschy trinkets, as it gave her and Rhys and Angel something to do as Jack tackled the pile of gifts given to him by servile stockholders and executives.

“Harris really thinks she can impress me with a frikkin’ Spiralizer? Do I look like a guy who makes his pasta out of zucchini? Instead of frikkin flour like a normal human?” Jack snorted as he tossed aside one box in favor of a more expensive-looking one. “Garcia’s got me, though. Cheese knives! Heck yes. We’re gonna have so many fancy cheese parties now, kiddo.”

“Are we?” Rhys looked up from where he was sniffing a tiny peppermint candle taken his stocking. Jack nodded yes and patted his shoulder.

“Dad, can we move onto the real presents now?” Angel moaned from the other end of the couch, the little LED lights she’d gotten from her stocking draped artfully about her shoulders. Jack relented with a sigh, setting his stack of employee gifts on the floor as he welcomed the ones they’d gotten for each other. Rhys insisted they let the youngest go first, much to Jack’s indignation. The bit of peppermint bark Rhys shoved in his mouth quieted him pretty quick.

Angel went just a starry-eyed as Nisha thought she would when she opened the huge, cutely packaged makeup palette she’d grabbed for her.

“So you weren’t getting something for Rhys!” She grinned knowingly. Rhys raised an eyebrow.

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Nisha snickered as she nudged Rhys with her elbow. “Go on, open yours.”

“Paisley!” Rhys exclaimed as soon as he lifted the scarf from the unwrapped box. “How did you guys know?”

“She’s seen your boxers, pumpkin,” Jack winked. Rhys’ face glowed with blush as he busied himself opening up the socks, gushing as he thanked Angel with a gentle hug.

Jack went apeshit over his stand mixer, immediately crowing about how he could finally make a delicate enough meringue worthy of Rhys’ palate. Nisha smiled into her coffee, feeling a touch of happiness inside her at the look on her boys’ faces. And they hadn’t even gotten to the crown jewels of her gifts.

Rhys of course, almost cried when he opened the ring boxes, covering his mouth with his hand as he looked at Nisha in shock. But weirdly enough, Jack had a small smirk on his face as he glanced down at his. He looked up at Angel, nodding in the direction of the tree.

“Princess. Why don’t you go ahead and grab that last gift?”

Nisha peered over, slightly confused to see Angel procuring a small box wrapped in shiny purple paper she hadn’t noticed before. She raised her eyebrows up at Jack and the teary Rhys, who was busy wiping his nose on his candy striped sleeve.

“Go on, Nish, open it up.” Jack encouraged as he took a sip from his coffee, watching his girlfriend over the rim. Jack’s smarmy, knowing look was usually kind of annoying, but right now it was kind of making her….excited to see what was in this little box.

She pulled the wrapping paper off with eager fingers, popping open the tiny velvet box to see a copy of the same ring she’d bought for her boyfriends. Except instead of silver, it was cast in rose gold and set with rows of amber stones and deep, purple tourmaline.

“Holy shit, you didn’t, how…how did you…?”

Jack jerked a thumb over to where Angel was wiggling on the couch, just barely able to contain her beaming smile.

“This one practically dragged us to the mall to buy it for you at the eleventh hour. Took a bit of ‘convincing’ on my part to get it commissioned at the last second in colors you’d like a little more. Though for the record, babe, you look great in silver.”

“Oh, you little sneak,” Nisha wagged her finger at Angel, who merely giggled and tucked her legs up into her oversized sweater. Rhys shyly scooted up close to Nisha on the couch, hand cautiously closing around hers as he rested the other on the ring box.

“Um…may I?” Rhys flustered.

“Such a gentleman.” She winked at him and wiggled her digits. “Knock yourself out, sweetie.”

Rhys gratefully slid the ring onto her finger, his own twinkling in the myriad lights glowing on the Christmas tree.

“You know I’m probably gonna never wear this, right?” She turned to Jack, still letting Rhys hold onto her as she took her other boyfriend’s hand in hers.

Jack shrugged.

“We still wanted to get it for ya. Angel didn’t want you feeling left out.” Jack set his mug down on the table, leaning in to peck Nisha on the lips.

“I know all the Christmas crap isn’t really your thing, but we still wanted ya to know how we feel,” Jack confessed, scratching his belly underneath the fuzzy sweater Rhys had bought.

The sheriff’s face softened as she chuckled. Rhys practically purred as he snuggled up close to her, resting his cheek against her shoulder. Keeping her warm on both sides.

“I gotta…fuck…”

“Language, Nish.”

“Oh shut up, I was gonna say I’m starting to warm up to this whole Christmas thing. Maybe…”

She glanced from Jack and Angel to Rhys, the very kid who’d infected her whole life with festive cheer who was cuddling up to her with all the meek sincerity of a kitten. It was hard to feel much malice towards the holiday she otherwise resented when everyone was being so sweet to her.

Ugh. At this rate, she’d be tame by the time next Christmas rolled around.

But, she thought—as she watched Rhys fumble on his socks to the tune of Jack’s laughter and Angel’s flattery and smelled the scents of pine and apple and peppermint mingling together as they all sat close and shared the warmth of the family—maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing.

#long post #fanfic #spacetext #fluff #12 Days of Requestmas #rhackisha #dauverney #tftbl

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sagara-megumi · 7 years

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SasuSaku Month - Day 15: The Slug and the Snake || [Fanfic] Till Death Do Us Part

Title: Till Death Do Us Part

Rating: T/PG-13

Notes: Sorry to keep you waiting, but at last, the final chapter is here ^^ It’s sad but at the same time accomplishing because it’s the first time that I finish a multi-chaptered story and that I write so much in such amount of time.

The notes are a bit long this time, but I’d like you to read them, since they can be useful.

This time, the prompt is symbolic. Looking for information for my next story (that hopefully will use some of the prompts I still haven’t done) I found on a book about Japanese Mythology that the snake, among other things, symbolises lust. Imagine the possibilities that opened in my mind at that moment *grin* Regarding the slug, the only thing I could find was the healing power, so Sakura gets stuck in the medical field once again.

I decided that both their names are written in kanji, since both of them belong to old families (I haven’t seen any examples of this written in hiragana/katakana, like in the manga). For those who feel curious… 団扇佐助 // 春野桜 (I know that in Sasuke’s case those are the kanji for “uchiwa“, but… ^^U)

The events described in the fanfic are my impressions after watching several videos and reading about the topic. There will be mistakes, of course, so I apologise in advance.

Be aware that the rating has gone up. There’s nothing really explicit but you’ll know what’s happening. If I labelled it incorrectly, please don’t hesitate to tell me. Since a few years, the rating system has been a mess. I’ve found really strong things under the M/R and even the T/PG-13 tags and really innocent ones under T/PG-13 so, I’m more or less following my instinct.

Thanks to the lovely @isa-chi who put up with my ramblings and my frustration, and advised me on a couple of topics especially related to OOC. And also to all the people who read it, sent messages, liked, reblogged and followed me, waiting patiently for updates. You don’t know how happy each of those single things made me. And thank you to @sasusakumonths for organising it. It’s been really fun ♡

As always, if there’s something wrong (spaces, brackets…), please, tell me. I hope you enjoy this final instalment :)

Glossary: I’ve tried to keep the Japanese terms to a minimum, though some things are not accurately translated

-uchikake: the bridal kimono. It can be white (the most common used for the ceremony) or with colours (normally used for the celebration). it’s much more heavier than a normal kimono, and it’s tied differently too. -onigiri: riceball -nori: the seaweed that is wrapped around the onigiri

Words: 7339

TILL DEATH DO US PART

Drinking a sip of her coffee, Sakura observed as Sasuke started to complete their marriage form, the pen in his right hand tracing the kanji of his full name slowly, as if he feared to make a mistake. They had decided to fill it and take it to the Ward Office together so, early in the morning, Sakura had gone to his apartment carrying the documents she would need.

Finally, the day had come. After their engagement, as soon as Sasuke had recovered, they had visited each family to announce that they were getting married. She still remembered the satisfaction in her grandmother’s eyes as Sasuke bowed to ask permission to her and her parents to marry her. At the beginning, she had felt a bit offended. It was as if Chiyo was telling her that she had caught the prized candidate when that had been the last thing on her mind practically from the beginning. However, later that night as she made her way to the kitchen for a snack before going to bed, she found her kneeling in front of the altar dedicated to her late grandfather, talking lovingly to him about the happiness she felt because her granddaughter had found a wonderful man, that she had seen in his eyes how much he loved her; reminiscing the time when they had met and how love had grown between them in the same way as in the young couple; that now she understood why they had taken their time to made their decision. And her heart had gone to the old lady who still mourned the death of his dear husband.

In the Uchiha clan’s house, things had not been very different. As Sasuke did, she had tried to ignore the whispers she heard about how pleased the elders were that the second son of the main branch had attained to such a wonderful heiress. Though, she had to say that his closest family had been truly happy for him as they wished them happiness.

“Sakura,” Sasuke’s voice, a bit disgruntled, reached her. “Are you listening to me?”

With a jolt, she looked at her fiancée, who was watching her with a delicate crease in his brows. He sighed.

“Obviously, not.”

“Sorry, Sasuke-kun… I had something on my mind…”

“I saw…” he smirked lightly. “Last minute jitters?”

She pouted, her eyes flashing defiantly.

“Of course not!”

He moved his head to the sides, a gesture that Sakura interpreted as mocking resignation, and then, he handed her the ball point.

“I’m finished.”

For a moment, she seemed to find fascination even in the action of him giving her that pen and she exhaled, exasperated at herself. She was too absent-minded that morning. She took it and with precise strokes, she wrote the information needed and took her family stamp to seal the document.

“Alright” Sasuke said standing up and putting the form inside the folder with his documents. “Let’s go. Today we have a very busy day ahead.”

Sakura looked at his retreating form for a moment before rising from her seat. It was the first time since they had met that she saw him in such informal clothes. It was summer, so he was wearing a dark blue polo shirt and white jeans. She could not help swoon a little. That man, who she had seen attract the attention of women without doing anything special wherever he went, was going to be hers from that day on.

“What’s with you today?” he was already in the hall, with his deck shoes on and one hand on his waist, looking at her with a mixture of concern and confusion. “Are you feeling well?”

“Yes!” she walked quickly to his side and put her cream-coloured sandals on, “I’m just a bit distracted.”

“Why?” he asked, checking that he had the keys for the house and the car in his pockets.

“Well” she put her hands behind her back and looked at the flat somewhat wistfully. “Today is a very important day… And, this will be my house from now on…” he looked at her with slightly widened eyes. “I suppose I’m feeling a bit melancholic apart from the usual nervousness…”

Sasuke’s features became warmer and he put a hand on her head, stroking it affectionally.

“Come on…”

They arrived at the Ward Office a few minutes after it had opened and finished with the last procedures quickly.

“The certificate will be available in two days” the friendly clerk at the desk told them. “Congratulations on your marriage.”

They thanked him and went back, Sasuke looking at his watch. Fortunately, it had taken less time than they had thought, so there would not be any delays in the tight schedule that they had that day. After his collapse, they had become very busy with their works and the wedding arrangements, but he had been careful not to cross the line again, especially with Sakura, Ino, Itachi and Naruto checking on him every day. The last few weeks, however, he had tried to do as much as possible to be able to clear those three days, from that one to the end of the week, for the wedding and an extremely short honeymoon that they had decided to spend mainly at home after the stressful preparations. They would have time for a proper wedding trip later on.

As they came out, they stopped and looked at each other, smiling. Even if they called off the shrine ceremony and all the events that were taking place in a few hours, they were now officially husband and wife.

Sasuke grabbed her hand with a satisfied expression on his face and started walking toward the car, she following him swiftly. But she could not help looking over her shoulder towards the entrance of the Office, swallowing hard and feeling a sudden rush of emotion. She had entered there being Haruno Sakura, and though nothing special had happened, a different person had come out. From that moment on, she was Uchiha Sakura.

“… Going forward, we’ll love each other, trust one another, share the good times and the bad and swear that this will stay unchanged throughout our lifetime.”

Sakura’s hands trembled slightly listening to Sasuke take their wedding vow before the gods in the shrine that his clan belonged to, as they held the paper where it was written. His voice, clear and steady was a reflection of his resolution to honour that promise.

“Husband, Uchiha Sasuke”

Despite her agitation, she breathed deeply, wanting to answer with the same conviction as him.

“Wife: Sakura”

Sasuke folded the paper again and left it carefully on the reclining set before them, stealing a glance at his bride. She had her head tilted down and he could only see her lips, painted in a rich shade of red, under the cotton hat she wore for the ceremony. To say that she was beautiful in her wedding kimono was not enough compliment. He had literally stopped breathing when he had seen her clad in the beautiful white uchikake embroidered with cranes and flowers that, as she had told him before while planning the wedding, had belonged to her family for years as her grandmother and her mother had worn it before her.

The Shinto priest, then, brought a tray with a box and offered it to Sasuke. He took the wedding ring with great care and offered her his other hand. She lifted hers, her heart beating wildly in her chest, and he took it as he put the ring on her finger. Sakura realised that he was trembling a bit and she lifted her face to him. What she saw stole her breath away. Maybe it was not the most beautiful smile of the world, but the one that graced Sasuke’s lips at that moment was radiant with content and tenderness. Sakura’s eyes filled with tears and she would have ended up crying if the priest had not put the tray in front of her. Swallowing hard and clenching her teeth to control herself, feeling relieved that with the hat she wore no one could notice her moment of weakness, she picked up the other ring. He extended his hand and slowly, feeling as if her heart could burst from all the happiness she was feeling, she put it on his finger.

“Ready?” one of the women dressed formally who were at the door of the reception hall looked at Sasuke and Sakura, and they nodded.

The double door opened and they entered the room, their guests clapping enthusiastically. Sakura had changed some of her clothes. She had taken off the hat and now wore her hair in a modest bun adorned with traditional hairpins, and had changed her white uchikake for another colourful one which belonged to Sasuke’s family.

They arrived at their table and bowed to the guests. Just then, the waiters and waitresses came out of a door and started filling their glasses while the host told the people they were going to toast to the groom and the bride.

Soon after, the food was served and the speeches began. One by one, their kindergarten teacher, Kakashi, their professors at university, Tsunade, as her mentor, and Itachi, as Sasuke’s superior, told anecdotes about the years spent with them.

Then, Naruto went up the platform and Sasuke felt himself cringe. They had gone through a lot together, good things and bad ones and their bond was practically unbreakable, but also, his best friend was aware of all his failures and most embarrassing moments, and though he was completely sure that he could trust him with his life, he also knew that sometimes, he talked too much. He could not help having a bad feeling about it.

“They make a fine couple, don’t you think, Madara-san?”

The man, with his arm crossed on his chest, nodded as he watched Sasuke and Sakura listen to his best friend, Naruto, give a speech which made people laugh and clap, as he talked about some of the moments they had lived together.

“I have to confess that, at the beginning, I was quite sceptical about your suggestion of arranging for them to meet, Chiyo-san” he said with a small smile, very similar to Sasuke’s. “I thought that you desired someone in the medical field for the future heiress of your legacy. Someone who doesn’t have any knowledge, like my grandson, is not going to be of great help.”

“I understood soon enough that my granddaughter didn’t need a husband like that. She’s extraordinarily intelligent and a brilliant doctor; after all, she’s trained under the famous physician Senju Tsunade” she said sparing a fleeting glance towards the renowned doctor, sitting at a table not far from theirs. “Any man in the same field of expertise would feel intimidated by her, even resentful. And, despite being burdened by responsibility and tradition, I love my granddaughter and I was not going to get her into a marriage where she would end up suffering. However, Sasuke-san can lend his support in other ways. Financially, of course, but also he can offer her advice based on his experience. A hospital chairman is a doctor and a business person at the same time.”

“You had your plans well laid” he smirked. “I’m impressed.”

“Well, not all of them” she folded her hands on her lap. “I hoped that, being young, they would grow some affection for each other with time. However, my wish became true much earlier. It is obvious that Sasuke-san cares deeply for my granddaughter, and sincerely, I could not ask for more.”

“Honestly I even thought once that he would never marry” Naruto continued his speech. “He’s got a weird personality and he sometimes doesn’t talk, probably thinking he’s so cool. Also, he can be really arrogant and a bit twisted, but he’s the best man I’ve ever met in my life. Sakura-chan, I know he’s a hassle and a pig head, as you probably noticed a few months ago when he fell ill, but, please, take care of him. I’m sure you two are going to be the happiest couple in the world” he made a victory sign. “After Hinata-chan and me, of course.”

People laughed as they clapped and Naruto went back to his seat. Then, as the host announced the next speech, Sasuke took a sip of his drink, relieved. Apart from some comments, like the last ones, about his character, and that he had talked about the first time he had got drunk, things had not gone so bad.

The hall became darker as Ino took her place behind the microphone.

“Good afternoon. I’m Yamanaka Ino and I have the fortune of knowing this two people for years. But today, I’m not going to talk as Uchiha Sasuke’s secretary, but as Sakura’s friend” she paused for a moment to look at her notes. “Sakura and I met in the first year of elementary school, when we ended up in the same classroom, sitting one behind the other. As you see, we have a long story together…”

A soft music started playing and they all turned to a screen located over the main door, where a video started to show. It displayed photographs of the two girls since their childhood: school events, festivals, graduations, parties… Ino had a memory for each of those moments, which people laughed about or had to dab at their eyes with handkerchiefs. Finally, the video ended with the two of them laughing at the entrance of the Todai University, the day of Sakura’s graduation.

“When she told me that her omiai partner was the President I work for, I was a bit wary because I discovered then that I was linked to both, and it was going to be uncomfortable if one of them felt hurt in case that there was a rejection. But when she said they were getting married, I was really glad.” she turned to the couple. “President, the only thing I’m going to ask of you in this life is to make her happy. Despite our arguments and differences in many things, she’s one of the people I love the most and, forgive me for my impertinence, I’d hate you if you made her suffer her. Congratulations…” she inhaled, trying to hold back her tears. “And stop crying, Forehead!

She bowed and Sakura felt the strong urge to run to her best friend and hug her. However, she had to repress it, since it was not the moment and with her clothes she would probably make a fool of herself, so she restricted herself to watch Ino coming down the platform and going straight to her seat, trying to hold her tears. She had to remember to hold her tight the next time she saw her.

“Are you fine?” Sai whispered putting an arm around Ino’s shoulders so she could lean her head on his shoulder, not caring about maintaining the appearances or the curious looks they were receiving.

She nodded and he dropped a soft kiss on her head.

“Good…” he paused for a moment. “Did you finally graduate from him?”

She nodded again and he could not help the smile that drew across his lips, relief washing over him. His heart filled with content at knowing that Ino was now completely and truly his, as he realised that a very small part of him that had been well hidden deep inside, had been really unhappy and jealous. Maybe, it was time for them to start thinking about tying the knot too.

Sasuke stood up, after a few moments. It was time for the groom speech. However, he did not move, he just looked at Sakura that smiled, carefully rising from her chair too. They were going to break the rules a bit. There was a soft surprised humming as the guests saw that both of them moved to the microphone, the expectation hanging in the air heavily.

He took a small slip of paper from the folds of his kimono and opened it, drawing in a soft breath. He was used to speaking in public, to weave his way and opinions without any doubts to business partners, directors and associates. However, he had never been good at expressing his emotions, at telling the people he cared for his feelings. His heart had been closed for many years after he had understood his position in his family and what they expected of him. His life no longer belonged to him, but to the clan. But that did not mean that he had become cold or had stopped loving them. That speech had taken him a lot of time to write, carefully choosing his words, rewriting once and again what he wanted to say. He only hoped he had been able to convey his thoughts in his words.

“Thank you to all of you for coming today and share with us this joyous event despite your busy schedules…” after the standard greeting, he breathed again. “When I was five, my life changed completely. From being a carefree child, I became someone who would have an important role in the future of his clan, and though, as a boy, could not see farther than my own selfishness, getting angry because things were not the same anymore, my family’s guidance and affection helped me to take the correct choices in life. I am what I am thanks to my father, who taught me the value of working hard, having perseverance and taking pride in my origins, my mother, warm and caring, but also stern when she had to be, and my brother who protected and comforted me as a child, and is someone I look up to every day” he glanced at Sakura. “Today, my wife and I are starting a new life. We are inexperienced in many things and we will probably stumble from time to time. I hope that you can continue watching over us the same as you have done for me up to now” he turned to Sakura. “Our beginning was difficult and we were unsure and full of doubts, and we have been through difficult moments. However, despite not being married, not even engaged, you were beside me during that time, strong and steadfast. Thank you, Sakura-san. I hope that in the years to come, I can be your support as you have been, and are, mine.”

He bowed, and Sakura had to bite her lower lip hard to contain her tears. When he lifted his head and saw her efforts, he took his handkerchief from his kimono and gave it to her with a tender smile that made those who saw it stare in awe. Sakura took a deep breath and straightened. Turning to their guests, she nodded.

“I’m sorry…”

Then, Sasuke took a step back to let her take his place. She took a paper from her obi and unfolded it. Breathing once more, she started reading.

“Thank you for being with us on such an important day in our lives” she inhaled again, calming herself, her voice becoming more confident. “I have always been aware of my role in life, and I embraced it enthusiastically since I was a little girl. I come from a family of doctors and I saw like a natural thing that I would become one in the future. I am one now. However, it’s not my merit alone. I had, along the way up to now, three wonderful people, my grandmother, my father and my mother, who were an example and my inspiration for all I wanted to achieve and I have been fortunate to count on their support and their advice in the steps I have taken along the way.” she paused for a moment. “Even though an omiai can be a very difficult event nowadays, when life offers us so many possibilities and ideas, I’m very glad to have followed my grandmother’s counsel and gone through it, because I met someone who has become very important for me” she tilted her head and looked at him. “Sasuke-san, let’s walk together this path that we have started today and build a household of our own following the example of the people who had surrounded and cherished us until this moment. I am sure that they will continue offering us their encouragement and love. As for us, as in all journeys, we will probably have good times and also encounter difficulties in our marriage. I want to be able to enjoy the first ones and solve little by little the second ones together with you, till death do us part.”

She gave a step backwards and together with her husband, she bowed to the guests, who were clapping and some of them crying openly. They could even hear one or two cheers from their louder friends. Then, two assistants gave them bouquets of flowers, and they made their way to the back, where their families were awaiting them. They bowed respectfully and then, gave the flowers to their mothers. Mikoto had a hard time controlling her tears, deeply moved because her younger child had never said what he truly felt since he was small and Fugaku put his hand on his back, smiling proudly at the respectable man that his son had become.

“Thank you…”

A tear fell down Sakura’s mother as she took the flowers from her daughter, who held her hand affectionately.

When they stepped aside instead of posing for a photograph, all the people in the hall held their breath again, expectant. Both of them approached the table nearest the place where their parents were, and the assistant gave her a second bouquet that she gave to her grandmother.

“Grandmother…” the old lady took it a bit disconcerted. “I know that you’re not in favour of breaking traditions and protocol, but it’s thanks to you that we’re here today. Sasuke-kun and I wanted to give you this.”

Chiyo blushed a bit.

“But it was Madara-san’s idea too…”

“But we can’t give him flowers, can we?” she said with a smile.

Then, she straightened and turned to his grandfather, bowing again.

“Thank you.”

Sasuke sighed as he adjusted his grey tie watching his reflection in the full-length mirror before letting one of the assistants help him with the frock coat. Despite liking kimonos quite a lot, he was definitely much more comfortable with those clothes, so similar to his everyday ones. He took the gloves and, nodding to the assistants, came out of the changing room. He walked along the corridor to where Sakura’s door was, ready to wait.

After the photographs with their family, they had gone out of the hall for a change of clothes. As they were planning the wedding, he had asked Sakura if she did not want to wear one of those big white Western wedding dresses that Japanese women dreamt of. Though her answer had been somewhat vague saying that it had been a little girl’s fantasy, he had realised that she still (tenía la ilusión). And he had finally managed to convince her to do it. Though they belonged to old families and they were going to follow tradition to the end, the wedding was theirs, and they could allow themselves a whim. Like the one with their grandparents. He had been surprised when he had learnt that his grandfather had played an important role in their omiai, despite being all Sakura’s grandmother idea. And when she had asked him if he minded that she paid a little homage to her, he had thought it would be nice to thank the patriarch of the clan too.

He was looking out of one of the windows on the wall opposite her room when he heard the door behind him open, and he turned. The sight left him breathless. Sakura was at the door, being helped by her assistants, and she was looking at him with a mixture of excitement and hope. She was wearing a beautiful empire style wedding dress with sleeves that only covered her shoulders, a bodice decorated with small pearls and a flowing skirt with two layers embroidered with lace. Her hair was tied in a side bun on the left side of her head framed by some organza lotus flowers.

“Oh, the groom” one of the assistants said with a smile. “We hope you are pleased with the bride’s look.”

He felt a knot in his throat. He wanted to say something and make her happy, it was obvious that she was expecting him to do it, but he just could not do it; not with those strangers listening and the people near the reception hall door waiting. If one day he complimented her, he wanted it to be for her alone.

Sakura smiled softly, as if she could sense his inner conflict and, turning to her helpers, she thanked them. Then, she approached her handsome husband, who was still looking at her with admiration, and took him by the arm. He did not need words to say what she wanted to know.

“Come on, Sasuke-kun” Sakura started walking towards the hall, changing the topic. “We still have a cake to cut and many greetings to give” he groaned a bit and she smiled widely. “And the after-party, let’s not forget about that!”

He chuckled lightly, letting her drag him away from the women who had put him in a predicament, calming down with her chatting. And he decided to follow her cue teasing her a bit.

“So, your intention from the beginning was to kill your groom of exhaustion and become a widow on your first day of marriage…?”

“What a day, um?” Sakura said with a sigh as she looked at Sasuke’s back, who was busy in the kitchen.

They had arrived at their flat a few minutes before, completely spent after the after-party with their friends and younger members of their families, where they had been drinking and playing games. However, neither in the reception nor that gathering they had been able to eat much so they had just been finishing taking off their shoes when Sasuke’s stomach had made a rumbling sound that had made her start laughing. He had shown her an irritated expression and had called her annoying but it was difficult to take his soreness seriously seeing the blush that adorned his cheeks.

After he had taken revenge tapping her on the head lightly and she had calmed down, he had suggested an early dinner and they had entered the kitchen. However, as she was asking him for an apron, he had taken her by the shoulders and sat her down on a stool, alleging that she had to be more tired than him, since her efforts during the wedding had been greater.

He made a sound of assertion as his hands took another scoop of rice and moulded it like an onigiri that he put on a plate.

“Are you going to wear that for the rest of the day?” he asked looking over his shoulder, clearly referring to her wedding dress.

“Of course!” she said with a childish smile, lifting her legs and wriggling her toes. “I really love it and it was very expensive, so the least I can do is enjoy it as much as possible” he chuckled lightly as he bent, opening a cabinet on his right and picking up a wooden board to cut the nori for the onigiri. “I’m thinking I could have it altered and have a new dress for any event that we have to attend.”

“It’s a good idea” he spared a brief glance at his grey frock coat, neatly folded on a chair near her. “Maybe I could do the s- Ouch!”

Instinctively, Sakura stood and rushed to his slightly crouched figure. He had his finger in his mouth, a mixture of pain and annoyance marring his face.

“Let me see” she commanded him with a professional tone, taking his hand and inspecting the cut.

Fortunately, it was not very deep but some thick drops of blood were running down his finger.

“Where’s the first-aid kit?”

“In that cupboard”

She put his finger under water from the sink tap and went to retrieve it. Looking for some bandages, she took his finger and inspected it again before pressing firmly to cut the bleeding. She guided him to the stool where she had been sitting and smiled softly to him as she lifted the gauze to take a better look at the little wound. After a few more minutes of pressure, she picked up another piece of cloth and dabbed at the cut delicately with some antibiotics cream she had found. Finally, she put a plaster on it.

“There, almost healed. Keep it covered for two day-” she brought her hand to her mouth. “Sorry… It’s the habit…”

“Thank you” he shook his head once, not really minding her doctor side showing.

She smiled as she put everything back in the kit and put it in the same cupboard.

“And now, let me finish dinner, okay? It’s better if you don’t get that cut dirty” she looked at the drawers on her left pensively. “And, it’s better if I get used to things here soon.”

He smiled, feeling inwardly happy.

“Second drawer.”

An hour later, Sakura heard Sasuke’s footsteps behind her and she turned in time for him to offer her a cup of tea. She smiled thankfully and he sat down next to her, giving a sip to his drink. They were sitting on the sofa in the living room watching the landscape, after enjoying dinner. As that night many months ago, they had turned it so it faced the large window, hearing the muffled sounds that came from the street and watching the sun sink slowly behind the buildings in a comfortable silence. Little by little the living room became darker.

“Give me your cup” Sasuke said standing up and going to the kitchen to leave them on the sink.

When he came back, he sat beside her again, looking at the rays of the sun reflected on the glass of the buildings near theirs and the light of the cars that went up the street opposite them, travelling in precise order. Absentmindedly, he took her hand in his, caressing the back with his thumb for a few minutes, and she answered to his touch squeezing it lightly. When he felt the roughness of the stones, he looked down and watched for a moment the two rings on her finger, playing with them lightly with his index. Then, he brought it to his lips and kissed it reverently, closing his eyes briefly.

When he opened his lids, slowly, he found her gaze on him, full of tenderness, and a soft smile on her lips. He leant forward and she met him halfway. It was a simple, lingering brushing of their mouths but it made them giddy with emotion and filled their hearts with happiness.

The first kiss of their married life.

They parted after a few moments and looked at each other, smiling softly. Then, Sasuke touched her forehead with his, and she laughed a bit.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes…” his smile widened a bit and she looked at him. “And you…?”

As a reply, he cupped her cheek with one hand, brushing her skin with his thumb. Sometimes, he felt so useless for not being able to express what was truly in his heart openly, to tell her all she wanted and needed to hear. She deserved so much to listen to them… However, his reserved character, his stern upbringing had made him like that. Maybe, someday, he would be able to tell her all the things he kept inside. As he looked into her eyes, shining with delight he found himself fortunate for having found a woman who understood him.

He kissed her again, this time deeper, wishing to express what he could not put into words, giving his all each time their mouths separated for a brief intake of breath just to join again more passionately. The soft moan that escaped her throat filled his veins with desire, and this time, he did not bother to tame it. She did not have to go back home, she was not a partner, she was not his fiancée… He did not have to contain himself anymore.

He left her lips and hid his head in her neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses. She sighed his name and he went back to her lips, satisfied at her equally intense response.

When they parted, completely out of breath and quivering, Sasuke stood up and put an arm around her waist and another under her knees, lifting her from the sofa, her arms circling his shoulders, and he crossed the living room and entered the corridor, towards the bedroom.

“It’s still daylight…” she murmured, hiding her face in his shoulder.

“And, do you have any complaints? Do you want me to stop…?”

Her only reply was to move her head negatively, a deep blush covering her pretty face.

The room was still bathed in a soft orange glow. Closing the door after them with his foot, he advanced a few steps, kissing her again, before letting her stand again. He did not let her go, though. After releasing her lips, he brushed his mouth on her neck, just below her jaw.

“Do you want me to help you with that” he murmured softly, touching the flowers that decorated her hair.

“Do you mind…?”

He shook his head and turned her, facing the full-length mirror on the corner nearer the bed and they looked at their reflection for a moment before she lifted her arms and started taking pins from the headdress. He did the same with her bun, feeling it with his fingertips and removing them carefully not to pull her hair. Occasionally he gazed at the mirror. She was trying really hard not to look at it and he could not help a little smile at his wife’s sudden shyness.When he had gathered a bunch of them in his hand, he looked around and finally decided to leave them on the bedside table. He switched on the lamp to see better.

“You should think about what you want to change or buy for the flat…” he commented as he touched one inside her bun. “I suppose it’s not very comfortable for a woman…”

“Your house is fine, Sasuke-kun!” she said turning, and with the sudden movement, the pin he had just discovered and picked escaped from between his fingertips. “Just two or three things will be enough, and we can bring them from my former bedroom.”

“Our house” he said, and she looked at him a bit confused. “It’s not just mine, it’s ours.”

“Ah” her fingers flew to her mouth, realising her mistake. “Sorry…”

“You’ll get used to it…” he replied, touching her head lightly to give her the clue of where to tilt it, looking at the place where the pin he had missed was and retrieving it, his breath falling on her nape, making her blush again.

They continued their task for a few more minutes until all her hair was free from the hairstyle, and Sasuke started combing the tresses down her back, but it was really difficult with all the spray the assistants who had helped her with her change of look had applied. Then, he bent a little and he kissed the curve between her neck and shoulder.

“Sasuke-kun…” she said gasping softly when he grazed the tender skin just above her collarbone. “Ca-Can you cover the mirror…?”

He smirked against her neck and, leaving her, he grabbed the bedspread and threw it over the mirror.

“Is that better?”

She nodded and he extended his hand, touching her red cheeks. With her dishevelled hair falling on her shoulders and back, her darkened green eyes that shone like emeralds in the dim light and her red lips, swollen from being kissed, she offered the most tempting and lovely sight he had ever had in front of him.

“Sakura…”

As if falling under a spell, it was her who approached him this time, kissing him as her hands cupped his face, and he held her close, tangling his fingers in her hair. The others went to his shirt, suddenly bothered by it. They parted and she looked at him, one of her hands brushing his, as if asking if she could continue. He dropped it to his side, his gaze not leaving her for a second as she took the button with trembling fingers.

As each one came undone, his skin was exposed to her sight and she felt the temptation to kiss it, Sasuke noticed the change in her breath and the indecisive spark of her eyes.

“You can do as you wish” he murmured in her ear, his voice lowering down an octave, and she shivered. “I’m your husband…”

She let out a quivering exhale and crossed the step that still separated them, hiding her head and kissing him in the curve between his shoulder and neck. He took a sharp intake of breath as her arms made their way around his waist, pressing her body to his. And Sasuke’s fingers flew to her hips. As her mouth left timid kisses along his collarbone, his hands made their way upwards slowly until they found the zipper of her dress. It was then that she noticed the slight trembling of his fingertips.

The wedding dress fell on the floor in a pool of chiffon and embroidered organza, leaving her dressed in only her tights, undergarments and a short satin and lace white slip which covered her body.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered, and her heart missed a beat, thundering loudly just a moment later, as she felt her eyes damp.

He smiled tenderly as he cleaned her unshed tears with his sleeve and brushed her lips softly, his hands taking off his shirt, dropping it near her dress. Then, he held her tight by the waist, lifting her up and laying her on the bed delicately, kissing her and burying one of his hands in her hair as he joined her, and the other started a path filled with soft curves and the movement of her agitated breath. For what seemed hours, he worshipped her body with kisses and caresses as her hands slid across his shoulders and back as far as she could reach, whimpering when he found a sensitive spot. Slowly, the last clothes that still separated them fell on the floor and she could not help a shiver feeling each centimetre of her skin covered by his, their bodies getting warmer and warmer as passion slowly erased from their mind any thoughts that were not related to the other, or what they were feeling.

She called his name, gasping at the honorific, and he kissed it from her lips, not wanting to hear something that put a barrier between them. There, in the privacy of the bedroom that now belonged to the two of them, they were simply two human beings that loved each other in body, soul and mind: Sasuke and Sakura.

Fingers lacing and breaths mingling in their kisses, the tension between them increased with each passing moment until it suddenly broke. Her heart overflowed with feelings for him, and his followed a few moments later with only one certainty: She belonged to him as he to her.

Still regaining their breaths, Sasuke embraced Sakura protectively and rolled over on the bed, resting on his back. He was tired, the traces of passion slowly dissolving in his blood replaced by a feeling of completion that he had never experienced before. He closed his eyes, savouring it, smiling as she nuzzled his chest softly. He brushed her hair from her damp body.

“Maybe I should have it cut…” she said in a slightly raspy voice, lifting a hand and removing some strands that gone unnoticed to his fingers.

“I like your hair…” he stated in a gentle voice. “Maybe we should have left it in that hairstyle if you felt uncomfortable…”

She mused his words for a moment.

“I’d probably had all the pins piercing my scalp” she paused and hid her face a little in his chest. “Maybe next time I can tie it up before…”

Sasuke chuckled and kissed the top of her head. His hand brushed the space between her shoulder blades and she shivered a bit.

“Are you cold?”

She shook her head briefly, but stayed quiet, not moving except for her slow breathing. He would have thought she was falling asleep if it was not for the barely noticeable agitation of her fingers on his skin

“Are you alright?” he whispered, deeply concerned about having done something to upset her.

Did I pay attention to your needs? Was I too brusque, too anxious? Did you feel the same pleasure? That simple question was filled with so many others, with insecurity and a hint of regret, that Sakura felt guilty, and moved. She was just feeling overwhelmed by the powerful sensations that still coursed through her body and mind, She had never thought she could feel something like that. But how to tell him? How to make him understand the strength of her emotions at that moment? She only knew one way. She lifted her head and smiled tenderly, making him relax. She took his hand in hers and brushed a kiss on his palm, and then on his ring finger, the thin band of gold warm to her lips.

“Yes…” .

It was already well entered the morning when Sasuke opened his eyes with a soft intake of breath, and immediately, his features softened when the first thing he saw was Sakura’s face, still deeply asleep. Her expression was completely relaxed and content, her cheeks still slightly flushed and her lips a bit swollen from his kisses. They had loved each other once and again between short slumbers and sweet moments of titillation until just a few hours ago, and though he felt exhausted and tempted to curl up with her and go back to his dreams, a part of him fought back, wanting nothing more than to watch her until the moment when she woke up. Blinking a few times, he propped up on one elbow, resting his head on his hand, lifting his free arm to brush back a loose strand which had slid down across her cheek delicately, revelling in each single detail and engraving them all in his mind.

An hour later, Sakura opened her eyes, slowly, and her clouded gaze fell on his face. He was watching her with a tender smile.

“Good morning…” he whispered, cupping her neck and kissing her forehead softly.

“Good morning…”

THE END

Extra notes:

-Japanese people don’t kiss in traditional weddings (sometimes, they do in Western-style ones, like the ones we see in manga), neither do they in the reception.

-For Sasuke and Sakura’s wedding, I wrote the same vow as in this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UeJQMvydpzQ All the credit goes to its maker.

-There’s a change in the honorifics, I know ^^ I did it on purpose, since reading examples of speeches, I realised that the language is very formal, so I decided to make them talk formally too. That is why there aren’t contractions in it either

#naruto #fanfic #ssm17 #ssm17d15 #sasusakumonth #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #sasusaku #otp

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ineverhadmyinternetphase · 7 years

Text

Steal My Heart (steal my whole life too) 24/28

Genre: Chaptered, fantasy AU, Prince!Phil, Thief!Dan, romance, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff, slow burn (like serious slow burn)

Warnings: some violence, mentions of death (no main characters), dark magic, descriptions of wounds/blood, some hints of sexual scenes (but no actual smut), murder, dangerous situations, stealing/thievery

Summary: Captain of the Royal Guard and Prince of Morellia, Philip Lester has never been given the chance to find love. Instead, he’s run from a system that works to end class differences and improve equality for its citizens. Happy as he is to make the world a better place, Phil can’t help feeling bitter towards his ancestors for making it impossible for him to find someone who will actually love him for more than just his title, and strives instead for a life of justice and doing good - only to meet his match in the King of Thieves, a man who will change everything he once thought he knew in life. Together, they must depart on a quest to save the kingdom, and, in the process, destroy their differences and find their own form of love.

Word count: 240,000+

Updates: Sunday

Thanks so much to @botanistlester for betaing this giant monster, as she’s been super helpful and encouraging with her little comments and endless excitement. We couldn’t have done it without you <3

Disclaimer: In no way do I claim that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil

For reference, @snowbunnylester is Phil, @ineverhadmyinternetphase is Dan

(AO3 link) (Masterlist)

Chapter 24

The next morning was decidedly not better. Dan woke in agony, his wounds having stretched in the night, and his desperate panting woke Phil too, despite how much Dan didn't want to disturb him. Dan was frustrated in general as he wanted to tell Phil to lie down and stop fussing, but all he could do was gasp while Phil rushed to change his bandages again. But the pain didn’t get better, not even with the soothing poultice reapplied, and no matter how much Dan closed his eyes and fought against the pain, it continued thundering through his veins, thudding behind his eyelids. Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore, and pleaded with Phil for a little bit of the vial Brandon had given them.

Phil gave it to him, looking nothing but worried, and Dan itched to reach out to him. But the moment the vial touched his tongue he fell back into blissful oblivion, the last thing he saw Phil watching over him.

Dan wasn't very coherent for the next few days, slipping in and out of consciousness only to allow Phil to change his bandages or force some food down his throat. Dan was desperate to reassure him, desperate to reach for him and draw him close and tell him that everything was okay, that none of this was Phil's fault, that he was so incredibly grateful to have Phil looking after him, but all Dan could manage were a few mumbled 'I love you's before he ended up asleep again.

The new few days were particularly hard on Phil. He was constantly anxious, constantly on edge as he watched Dan suffer next to him. He didn't sleep well, even when Phil was forced to feed Dan from the vial of liquid Brandon had told Phil to use sparingly, and he was rarely coherent enough to do more than mumble sleepy I love you's to Phil and allow Phil to help him with a change of bandages and poultice. It was lucky for both men that Phil was good at rationing, as there was still plenty of deer meat left for them to be stuck here with for as long as Dan needed to get better. If worse came to worst, Phil knew he could just pay Brandon off to hunt for them.

Watching Dan suffer, however, was the hardest thing Phil had ever had to do. He felt the guilt rattle through him constantly, never leaving Dan's side for long despite how hard it was to listen to his whimpers throughout the day and night. It wasn't Dan's fault, though, and Phil had promised not to go anywhere, so if he wasn't sitting next to Dan whiling away his time on ravens he planned to send to his family, or wood carvings he’d only just learned how to make, then he was lying cuddled up to Dan’s right side, staring at his face and wishing that he could do something more to wash away the pain.

Phil cried a few times, feeling the guilt and self hate overwhelming him, and found himself having to remind himself of what Dan had said; there was no use in Phil blaming himself when it had been the dragon who’d struck Dan, and sheer dumb luck that had put them in the path of the loose rock Phil had kicked.

On the fourth day, however, Dan seemed to wake up feeling much better than he had the last few days, able to sit up coherently and actually tease Phil. It was a relief to find Dan's wounds hadn't re-opened and bled through his bandages again, and Phil wasn't even forced to change them this time, deciding to leave them for now as they were beginning to run low on the supply the village healers had given them. It was a good thing Phil hadn’t resorted to using any of the bandages on himself, despite maybe having needed them, and he was only relieved that there had been enough poultice for Phil to apply to the wounds he could find to prevent infection for himself.

As for the bandages they did have left… well, Phil was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t just changed Dan’s dressing far too often, but he wasn’t going to blame himself for that. They’d just have to be careful from here on out.

"I think I'm better," Dan announced as soon as he'd finished the broth Phil had made for him. "Or at least, I can manage moving again, if we go slow. We've got to start moving again if we're going to get to Cornelia in time." Dan met Phil's eyes then, expression softening. They hadn't talked much about Phil's family over the past few days, but Dan knew Phil must be panicking about the delay. The whole castle was waiting for their return, and Dan wasn't going to let some stupid scratch he'd been dumb enough to get stop them from saving Phil's family.

Phil’s eyes flicked up from his own bowl of broth at Dan’s words, but he couldn’t help feeling anxious about moving Dan just yet. His eyes trailed over Dan’s side, over his face, the anxious look in his eye, and then he slowly shook his head.

“It’s only been two weeks, Dan. It’d take another week itself if you were as strong as you were when we first got here, so there’s little point in leaving before you’ve recovered more. I’d rather not move you if you’re not up to it, okay?” Phil replied, trying to sound sensible and stern all at the same time. “Let’s give it another day at least,” he decided.

Phil couldn’t deny that he was anxious about getting home as soon as possible, terrified the dragon scale wouldn’t work and they’d need time to find another cure, but Dan was just as important as Phil’s family. He was Phil’s family, after all, and no matter how restless Phil was getting, he wasn’t putting Dan at any more risk by allowing him to walk around too early and stretch his wounds anymore than he already had.

Dan pursed his lips, not all that surprised when Phil argued with him. From what he could tell, Phil had spent the last few days simply staying by Dan's side and looking after him. From the bags under Phil's eyes, Dan was sure he hadn't been getting much sleep, too busy caring for Dan above all.

Still, for once in his life, Dan actually listened to Phil and didn't stand up straight away and demand they get a move on. He didn't want to worry Phil anymore than was absolutely necessary. So, instead of jumping up to his feet and running out of the cave like he wanted to, Dan held his arms out and looked up at Phil with unimpressed eyes.

"Fine. I'll listen to you. But help me stand up -- I want to test how much I can move before we go trekking back through the forest." Dan couldn't help smiling a little at the thought of being able to travel without any unwanted tag-alongs, the Duke long-gone, and he couldn't resist another little bit of teasing. "Maybe you can show me how to build a real bridge instead of a rickety raft, hm?"

It was honestly a relief to hear Dan agreeing to do as Phil said, and he nearly collapsed in on himself from the sheer exhaustion the last few days had brought him. Smiling tiredly, Phil stood up to do as Dan had said, happy to help him stand and see if Dan could actually hold himself up without falling. Phil would be there for him every step of the way, of course, but it was good to test the waters now.

Rolling his eyes at Dan’s constant teasing regarding his failed bridge from before, Phil merely replied, “Oh, I’ll definitely be showing you how to build a proper bridge, Daniel Howell. Just don’t be surprised if I don’t let you help this time.” Phil tossed Dan a wink for good measure, before crouching down low to help Dan from the ground.

“Careful, now. I don’t want us reopening your wounds when they’ve only just properly closed up. Put your arms around my neck, and I’ll hoist you up with my own around your waist,” he instructed, doing just that as Dan wrapped his arms about Phil’s neck.

Phil’s hand hovered awkwardly at Dan’s left side for a second just barely touching the skin of his hip, but Phil knew even before Dan began trying to hoist himself up that Phil was going to need a much better grip than that if he wanted to make sure Dan didn’t do anymore damage to himself. Stealing himself, Phil wrapped his palm more securely around Dan, and helt tight.

“Alright. Ready?” Phil asked, waiting for Dan’s nod of approval, the subtle tightening of his hands around Phil’s neck, and then said, “One… two… three.”

The two began to move in sync on three, Phil grunting as he used his legs to push his own body up off the ground with Dan wrapped rather securely around him. Dan, for his part, swayed in Phil’s hold, but he didn’t make a noise as he tried to gain his footing. For that, Phil was relieved, praying that Dan wasn’t just holding it inside and that he really was feeling less pain now.

Catching Dan before he could fall forward, Phil wrapped his arms more softly around Dan’s waist, and helped him maintain his weight on suddenly weak legs. “Careful,” he fretted, words soft against the shell of Dan’s ear. “How are you feeling? How’s your side?” Phil asked, not quite sure if he could pull back to check himself when Dan was so unsteady on his feet already.

The wound pulled and stretched a little as Dan got slowly to his feet. He leaned heavily on Phil the whole time, and gritted his teeth, desperate not to let any noise go that would show signs of weakness or pain. He scrunched his eyes shut and swayed a little, breathing fast little pants in and out. Phil's arms were tight around him, though, holding him steady, though he was careful around the wound.

"I… think I'm ok." Dan blinked his eyes open again once he was steady, sliding his hands carefully around Phil's neck to grip onto his shoulders.

Phil bit his lip, anxious and uncertain despite Dan reassuring Phil that he was okay. His thief was leaning a lot of his body weight into Phil, still, and his arms had moved to completely wrap around Phil's neck, hands gripping tight to Phil's shoulders. It made Phil fear that that meant Dan wasn't actually okay at all.

Dan shifted just a bit, wincing when he moved his left hip, and let out a relieved breath. "Yeah. No more bleeding. Let me try walking a bit."

Dan nudged at Phil until Phil started slowly moving backwards, holding Dan steady every step of the way.

Dan was a little unsteady, but he grew stronger and more confident with each step, until he was mostly holding himself up with only a tight grip on Phil's arm to keep him supported.

Despite Phil’s worry, when Dan asked to try walking a bit, Phil allowed it, pulling his body back a bit so that Dan was kind of on his own, and matched his footsteps to Dan's despite walking backwards. He trusted they wouldn't run into anything, and if they did, at least Phil would be the one taking the impact.

Eventually, Dan was pulling away from Phil, reaching down with shaking fingers to grip Phil's forearm instead, and Phil released his hips while maintaining a position to catch Dan if he did manage to fall. Somehow, his thief kept his balance, and the more he walked, the more confident he got, until Phil was grinning, proud that Dan was getting stronger again. He hated to see his thief laid out in pain when he was usually so full of life.

"Much better." Dan sounded satisfied. "Good. I was going crazy, not able to stand up." He glanced around the cavern, seeing evidence of Phil's cooking and cleaning over the last few days. His eyes widened a little when he fixated on the wood carving Phil has been attempting, letting out a soft breath. "I didn't know you knew how to carve."

Humming a bit in confusion, Phil followed Dan's gaze until it landed on the wood carving he'd been attempting for the last two days, and shrugged. "Not really. I just… needed something to do, and I'd already promised you I wouldn't leave your side, so I thought I'd try something new," Phil explained, leaning over to pick up the crude piece of wood he'd been shaving away. He was trying to get the shape of a bear in the outline so he could work on the details later, but he wasn't sure how it was coming along.

Dan's eyes were delighted as he stared at the wood Phil had been attempting to carve. He could see a rough outline of a shape, but wasn't completely sure what it was supposed to be, although it was clear Phil hadn't been working on it long. Dan's heart warmed at the idea of Phil taking him literally and staying by Dan's side as much as possible, even though Dan knew he hadn't been making much sense over the past few days. It filled him with warmth and love to know that Phil had been with him, watching over him the whole time.

"Thank you," Dan said quietly, "For not leaving, I mean." He was still leaning heavily against Phil's side, hunched over enough that Phil was actually taller than him for once, so it was easy for Dan to nestle his head into the crook of Phil's neck. He'd blame his open affection on the tiredness and herbs he'd been taking, but the reality was Dan just wanted to be close to Phil.

When Dan pressed his head into the crook of Phil's neck, Phil immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulder, drawing him closer still and hoping the touch would be as reassuring as he meant it. He nuzzled at Dan's hair, kissed the top of his head, and reveled in the fact that he was taller than Dan just then. "I'll never leave your side if I can help it," Phil murmured softly in response, squeezing gently around Dan's shoulder, wanting Dan to know just how much he meant it.

Dan shook his head, melting into Phil's touch with a contented little sigh. It was so good to have someone else supporting him, someone else to lean on and trust they'd hold him up. There were probably all kinds of metaphors in there for Dan's life and how he could lean on Phil, trust Phil in a way he hadn't trusted anyone before, but Dan didn't want to analyse just then. He wanted to lean into Phil's touch and allow himself to be held.

Dan glanced down at the wood carving with a familiar tug, nostalgia creeping over him, remembering a different shelter with different, smaller hands carving away at wood. Dan sighed.

"My brother used to love carving. He was way better than me. I've still got a bear he made me, back in my cavern along with the fairy tales and your grandfather's crown." Dan winced a little, remembering that, and felt a flush rise on his lower right cheek. He'd kept that crown with his most important possessions because it reminded him of Phil, and Phil had been important, even back then. Dan was a little embarrassed. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd let someone in as close as Phil, if ever.

Fingers shifting on the wood in his other hand, Phil listened intently to what Dan had to share with him, ridiculously happy that Dan was still willing to open up to him.

"Funny… I was trying to make you a bear as well," he murmured in response, hand tightening around the wood in the flat of his palm. "But I don't quite know what I'm doing." Phil hoped that it wasn't too painful for Dan, hearing that, seeing this... "I could make you something else, if you like, or I could just… not make it at all, if it's too painful for you." Wood carving was something Phil was only mildly interested in. He wouldn't be upset if Dan asked him to stop. The last thing he wanted was to cause Dan more pain.

"I don't want you to stop on my account," Dan murmured, glancing again at the shape he now knew to be a bear-in-progress. He could maybe see where Phil was carving the head, if he squinted a little. "It's actually nice. Those are good memories, it doesn't hurt so much to think about when we were happy."

Phil smiled at that, relieved to know that he hadn’t accidentally hurt Dan by trying to entertain himself in the cave the past few days, and pressed a quick kiss to the top of Dan’s head. He was just proud of Dan being able to stand at all, now, and grateful for the short distraction from their misery, Dan’s pain.

Smiling as Phil realized what else Dan had said, however, he leaned over and nudged Dan in the side with his elbow. "Oh, so my Grandfather's crown is important to you, then, for it to be included in that pile?" he teased. "I wonder what meaning it might hold for you."

Dan’s face turned red when Phil turned to start poking fun at him, and Dan turned until he was fully hiding his face in Phil's neck. His right side was pressed tight to Phil's in a way Dan hadn't been able to enjoy in too long, so he clung onto Phil unashamedly and nuzzled against his neck. "Yes, OK, so maybe the crown was important to me. Mostly I was remembering how annoying you were being at the time." Dan softened the harsh words with gentle touches, wrapping his arms loosely around Phil and leaning against him. "You can have the crown back, you know. I never should have taken it, I was only after it because I knew it would get your attention specifically."

It felt better than Phil could say to have Dan curling into him like that. It felt like it had been too long since he'd had a chance to properly cuddle Dan, and it left a surprising ache in his heart. He hated seeing Dan like this, but mostly, he missed the comfort of Dan's big arms wrapped around him. Phil was happy to protect Dan, but when the nights were at their worst and Dan was whimpering in his sleep, Phil wanted more than anything to have Dan comfort him.

"I was going to say no and let you keep it, but my family would be very relieved to have it back in their possession once again," Phil replied, smiling down at the way Dan was hiding in his neck. He actually really liked it when Dan did that, because it belied his vulnerability, showed Phil when Dan was being the most open, and gave Phil a chance to keep him protected from his own fears.

"Now. Would you like to go out on a little walk for a bit, maybe up to the lake to wash? Or are you getting tired already?” Phil asked, turning a very stern look down at Dan’s head. “And don't lie to me, King of Thieves, I don't want you to overexert yourself," Phil insisted, nudging him a little to get Dan to look up at him again. He'd missed seeing clarity in Dan's eyes, and now it was back, Phil just wanted to soak it up forever. He smiled softly at Dan when Dan looked up at him, and reached up to press a finger to where he knew Dan's dimple should be. Automatically, Dan grinned, and Phil laughed as his finger disappeared into the small indent on Dan's face.

"Dimple," he whispered with a bright grin.

Dan was going to need Phil to stop doing that dimple pressing thing, because it was far too adorable and made Dan go all gooey and melty inside. He literally couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. Phil's finger poking at his cheek made his nose wrinkle and his eyes scrunch up, and he hid his face back in Phil's shoulder as soon as he could, seeking more affection from this far too considerate man that Dan got to call his.

"I can walk a bit," Dan agreed, leaning away from Phil a little to prop himself up again, straightening back to his usual height. His wound gave an answering throb, but it was completely manageable. He grinned at Phil. "I like the sound of the lake, I feel disgusting. Plus I can make sure you've been looking after yourself, too, and not just caring for me."

Nodding, Phil tried not to flinch at the accusation that he hadn't been taking care of himself. He might have been a bit too preoccupied with Dan and washing him down every night. Phil had washed himself as well, but it had never been quite as thorough as when he helped out his Dan, nor as gentle. Phil was quite aware that he was covered in bruises as he kept pressing into them. He wasn't sure he wanted Dan to see that, but Phil would have to face the music eventually. Besides the scrapes on his hands had mostly healed up and his head and wrist seemed to be fine after he’d applied some poultice, so really, there wasn't too much Dan could say or complain about.

Dan carefully leaned on Phil's arm and took a slow step forward, grateful when Phil wrapped an arm around his waist to help him move. They made their slow way out of the cave and Dan blinked in the sunlight, glancing up the path towards the lake. He was surprised again at how steep it was, and how far they were from the dragon's cave, which seemed almost unviewable from here. Dan shook his head. "I'm still amazed you carried me all the way here. Have you been hiding god like strength from me, my Phil?"

Phil followed Dan's gaze up the steep path towards the top of the mountain, past the lake and the two villages he’d traversed through, and towards the dragon's cave, and shrugged.

"Only the strength of my love for you," he replied, knowing it was cheesy and grinning even before Dan could turn an unamused glare onto him. Allowing himself to chuckle, Phil leaned over to kiss the top of Dan’s head again, and said, “No, but really… you'd be surprised what terror and love can do to you,” he insisted with a noncommittal shrug. “Now, come on," Phil gently encouraged Dan, and started to help him hobble up the steep path to the lake.

If Dan became too weak to finish the journey, or to get himself back down, at least Phil knew that he could simply carry him. His thief wanted to be properly clean, however, and that was something Phil could definitely help him with.

By the time the two had reached to top of the lake, Dan was beginning to pant, his eyes a little wide from being so breathless. Overall, he seemed pretty okay, though, as there was no blood seeping through his bandages, and despite being winded, he seemed pretty determined to keep moving forward. Helping Dan to a standing position near the water’s edge, Phil began to help Dan strip from his blood caked trousers that had been impossible to remove earlier, and decided to leave Dan’s bandages on for now.

They’d help prevent too much water from getting into Dan’s wounds, and they could always change them when they headed back down to the cavern later.

Too afraid to leave Dan unattended on his feet, Phil first helped Dan slip into the lake by himself, the water keeping his weight density far less than on the ground, and then turned to strip himself of his own clothes, blushing slightly with the knowledge of just how fucked up he probably still looked after the near beating he’d taken from the dragon. Phil was certain his back was still caked in blood, but there hadn’t been much he could do about it until now.

His chest, on the other hand, was littered with dark purple bruises, the pale skin a mismatch of mottled black, blue, red, yellow, and green. Phil knew the sight wasn’t pretty, knew he was cut up quite a bit as well, but there was nothing about that night Phil would ever change if it meant saving Dan.

Avoiding Dan’s gaze once he was fully naked, Phil climbed into the lake water as well, and sighed at the cool feeling of the water rushing against his skin.

Dan had to take a minute to get his breath back once he was floating in the water. He squeezed his eyes shut and laid his head back, allowing his body to adjust to moving for the first time in days. Thankfully, his wounds didn't seem to be stretching, and they only ached dully when Dan moved too fast - definitely an improvement from a few days before. He settled himself into the water, relaxing, and enjoyed the sensation of the sun against his skin for the first time in what felt like too long.

Upon hearing Phil slide into the water beside him, however, Dan immediately opened his eyes to turn a smile onto him, glad to have him back at his side. That smile fell instantly fell when he took in the state of Phil, though.

His chest was littered with bruises that looked far more painful than Phil was letting on, covering his pale skin in a patchwork of marks and colours that definitely did not belong. Dan's eyes narrowed instantly at the sight, because he could see from the way Phil was avoiding his gaze and shifting that he'd been trying to hide this from Dan.

It didn’t make it any better that a swirl of blood was seeping from Phil’s back, and all Dan could do was hope that it was merely from Phil failing to clean himself up properly, and not an open wound that had not been attended too.

Phil knew it the second Dan had seen the bruising, but he kept his gaze carefully averted regardless of it all, determined to not get yelled at. Already, he was rinsing himself off carefully, realizing that even over the course of four days, he'd still managed to miss a lot of the blood stains against his skin.

Dan huffed. Anger curled in him that Phil had been hurting while Dan had been worse than useless, but he held it back, knowing that wasn't what Phil needed to hear right now. So as much as Dan wanted to chew his ear off about being responsible, instead he simply held his arms out and gave Phil a look.

"Come here. No arguing. I'm looking after you for a bit, and I'm not taking no for an answer, so don't even try it. If you so bravely carried me all the way here because of your love for me, then my love for you is going to do the miraculous and stop you from arguing with me."

Dan was persistent, as Phil had known he would be, and he closed his eyes briefly before tossing Dan a look. His thief had his arms outstretched to Phil, a look in his eye that reflected anger but also guilt that Phil wanted to wash away. He would have argued with Dan's demands if he didn't know better.

"Fine, but just - can you be careful?" Phil muttered, treading water to swim back into Dan's arms

As soon as Phil was close enough, Dan started tracing a gentle hand all across his chest, moving lightly over the pattern of bruises. It didn't look like any were going to scar, but they clearly showed that Phil had been knocked around a bit and not resting nearly enough. Equally, there was a deep cut just at the edge of his hair line, and lines on his face and bags under his eyes from where he must have been worrying about Dan rather than looking after himself, and Dan simply couldn't have that.

He drew Phil in close to him and started to rinse him off, moving carefully, taking his time to shower Phil in love. "You've been so good to me," Dan murmured in his ear. "Let me be good to you, too."

Dan was careful as he took Phil in, fingers tracing light patterns on Phil's chest, mapping out his bruising and hurts. His eyes were keen and zeroed in on everything, including the way Phil was sure his eyes drooped with exhaustion. He'd hear nothing of taking care of himself at the risk of Dan, though, and was ready to defend himself should Dan yell at him.

He didn't. Instead, he pulled Phil into his arms as he began to wash him down, using his hand to sluice water down Phil's body and to rub soft touches against his skin. He was gentle as his fingers moved over the bruising, apologetic when his hands touched the bruising on Phil's back that he couldn't see.

His words, though, well, those were what stole Phil's breath away.

Nodding quietly, Phil tucked his head into Dan's neck, and let himself be cared for.

Dan's hands were big against him, comforting. For the first time in four days, Phil felt like he could relax again, and he let himself be loved by Dan, let himself fall apart. If he started to cry again for the millionth time in just a few days, well, Dan didn't say anything.

Dan held Phil close to him, relieved when he didn't get any more arguing and instead just got Phil cuddling up to him and slowly falling apart. It made Dan's chest burn, seeing Phil like this. He curled into Dan and relaxed completely, nuzzling against his chest, feeling small and vulnerable in Dan's gentle hold. Dan even felt a couple of tears drip down Phil’s cheeks and onto his skin.

Dan didn't say anything, didn't think words could be right in that moment. Instead, he kept gently rubbing Phil's skin with his hand, washing the soothing water over his skin and getting rid of the few remaining bloodstains, the marks of sweat and stress that told plainly just how rough these past few days had been on Phil. Dan moved gently over the bruises, wishing he could wash away Phil's worries and fears as easily as the dirt, longing for that happy, carefree smile that had been missing for so long.

Even when Phil was mostly clean, Dan didn't stop touching him. His caresses grew more loving, a fond stroke of his shoulder, or a gentle apologetic swipe over the worst of the bruising along his back, or a simple threading of his fingers through Phil's hair. Dan poured as much affection into the soft touches as he could, doing everything he could to show Phil exactly what he meant to Dan, more than his words could ever give.

Eventually, Dan settled again, both his arms wound tight around Phil to cradle him against Dan's chest. He pressed his face into Phil's hair, closing his eyes and breathing him in. "I missed you," Dan confessed quietly, knowing it didn't even make sense because Phil had been right there by Dan's side the whole time. But Dan had missed this -- missed being able to hold Phil close to him, to cradle him and love him and worship him just as he deserved.

The best feeling in the world was being loved by Dan. There was so much affection in his touches, so much care as he soothed Phil, and Phil never wanted to pull away, never wanted it to end. For just a moment, Dan holding him close, ghosting his hands over Phil's body in a gentle sweep and caress, Phil was able to forget all of his troubles and just let go.

"God, I missed you too," Phil replied, knowing exactly what Dan meant. Being locked up in Dan's hold, warm, strong arms embracing him, Phil had missed that. Just having Dan conscious and moving around and himself felt so good, but nothing could compare to being able to touch and love Dan the way Phil wanted too, having Dan touch and love Phil in return. His own hands massaged over Dan's body, rinsing away his worries as best as he could as well, but he remained tucked up in Dan's chest, just needing this moment of vulnerability for himself for a second.

Phil's eyes had long since drifted closed, and his ear was resting right over Dan's heartbeat, strong and steady and healthy. Dan was going to be okay. It still seemed like a miracle to Phil.

"I know I've already said it, but I'd thought I'd lost you," Phil mumbled. "I would have let myself drop..." he trailed off, knowing that wasn't what Dan wanted to hear, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Clearing his throat, Phil pressed soft kisses against the skin directly in front of him, just wanting reassurance that he could. He hadn't had this much of Dan's naked skin so close to his in days, and while he was far from tempted to do anything sexual, he did crave the freedom to touch.

Dan gripped Phil tighter when he caught the murmured words, burying his face back into Phil's hair. It hit him, then, just how close they'd come. When Dan had been hanging off that ridge, clinging onto life and the last tiny hope that Phil might actually love him, he'd never quite let the situation sink in. Phil had been much further off the edge than Dan, so much closer to death, and yet he'd crawled his way back up and lifted Dan and somehow gotten them both safely down the mountain, all without losing the dragon scale Phil had managed to cut free. Phil was the real hero here.

"Don't you dare," Dan murmured into Phil's hair, gripping as tight as he dared to with them both so fragile. "Don't you dare ever do something like that. I can't--" He broke off, shaking his head, knowing Phil didn't need angry berating or devastating confessions of how Dan couldn't imagine a life without him, no matter how true it might be. Instead, he nuzzled Phil and held him affectionately, letting his love pour through. That would have to be enough.

Love. They had a word for it now. Dan didn't need to keep hiding how much he wanted Phil, or have to bury it behind other, less adequate words. He could be completely open with Phil, as Phil was with him. He loved the way Phil was leaning into him, lived for the soft way Phil washed him clean and kissed his chest.

Phil could feel it as Dan tensed up, expected the angry words, and yet they didn't come, not in the way he'd thought they would. Dan definitely expressed his anger, his heartbreak at the very thought, but he murmured soft pleas into Phil's hair as well and cut himself off, seeming to realize the same as Phil had that this wasn't a conversation they needed. They understood each other, knew the anger they would harbor at each other should they do something so stupid, but all that mattered was that they were still alive.

And if Dan wanted to go off about Phil being an idiot, well Phil had a lot more physical proof on Dan's body to make his point clear enough.

"We made it," Dan murmured, drawing back enough to glance down at him and Phil entwined together in the water, both miraculously alive. "Phil, we did it.”

"We made it," Phil agreed, laughing shortly. He could feel that damn lump in his throat again, but this time it was relief and pain all wrapped up in. He and Dan were safe. They were alive. They'd completed their mission, and now all that was left was to get home, where Phil fully intended to wrap Dan up and never let him go.

Dan smiled softly. “We did. We're both here, and we're both alive, and I plan to spend the rest of forever proving to you just how much I love you. But I swear, I will slap you if you ever think of hurting yourself again."

Phil snorted as he pressed his face into Dan's chest harder. "You're one to talk," he muttered, still wishing he could slap Dan right now, but not wanting to hurt him; the last thing Phil ever wanted to do was hurt Dan. "But I like the sound of forever," Phil admitted, and sighed as he let the tears fall once more, because they might actually have forever, now. The worst thing Phil had had ever had to do was nearly done, and when he got home, he might just get everything he'd ever wanted, so long as… so long as he reached out and took it.

No more being afraid. Phil was going to fight for his right to be happy, and in love.

"It's different with me," Dan mumbled, "I'm not you." He didn't quite know how to explain what he meant, couldn't quite put into words just how wrong it was to imagine Phil getting hurt. Phil wasn't made of glass, Dan knew that, he knew Phil could and would protect himself. It was more that Dan just didn't want Phil in any kind of negative situation. He'd protect Phil, spend the rest of his life making sure Phil was surrounded by good and happy things like he deserved.

“When we get home,” Phil murmured softly against the shell of Dan’s ear, happy they could just sit and drift along together here in the water, “I am never letting you go. Before long, you’re going to get so sick of me,” he added, laughing, “But I don’t care. I plan to spend the rest of my life with you, following you everywhere… no matter what anyone else says.”

Dan had to hide a smile as Phil described holding onto him and following him around forever. He could feel himself dimpling, knew his eyes were crinkling up in that way he hated, so he ducked his head and hid. He couldn't quite keep the smile out of his voice, though. "A pest, you are, Phil Lester."

It was just so impossibly good to imagine a future with Phil -- a future that had always been so tentative and uncertain, but was now spreading out before them in such wonderful possibility.

Dan shivered at the thought. He pressed Phil against him, looked down to where Phil was curled against his chest, and couldn't stop himself from beaming. Although still obviously exhausted, Phil's eyes matched the warmth in Dan's, and Dan could look into them forever.

Phil had seen a lot of his favorite smile tonight, and yet he couldn't quite get enough of it. When Dan's eyes crinkled up, his dimple flaring far deeper than normal, it made Phil grin as well, and he laughed as Dan hid his face in Phil's hair all over again.

As cheesy as it sounded, when they looked at each other, Phil felt like everything was going to be okay.

"I'm going to have to practise being Daniel Howell," Dan murmured. "And that makeover you mentioned might be necessary. I have no plans to let you back into that palace on your own." His grin shifted then as he nuzzled into Phil, nipping gently at his ear. "As soon as we can, though, I'm taking you out travelling. There's so much you need to see, so much of the world you can't experience as a Prince. You can be free, Phil, if you travel with me. At least some of the time."

Eyes brightening, Phil pulled back some so his eyes were on par with Dan's once more. "Does that mean you'll stay in the palace with me sometimes?" Phil asked, "When I have to be there?" He'd been afraid to bring the subject up at all in case Dan rejected him.

Dan had reassured Phil he would come to palace events with Phil, but Dan had a far nicer home for himself out in the desert. The problem was how long a travel it was between their worlds, and it had worried Phil he wouldn't get to see Dan as often as he would have liked.

"Because I'd really like it if you were at my side more often than not, and I fear I won't always be able to just run away with you, as much as I want," he explained, quickly, not wanting Dan to think that Phil didn’t very much so want to do just that. The way Dan touched him though, the things his words seemed to partially imply, made Phil’s cheeks flush. "I want to be free with you, Dan. I promise no one is going to stop me from travelling with you for long."

Phil flushing was not something that Dan was going to get tired of seeing any time soon. He loved the way Phil's pale skin darkened, turning the brightest shade of red, and he looked up at Dan with such love and warmth and affection that Dan was completely floored. His heart was so full, then -- so full of Phil and the hope of a future together.

He contemplated Phil's words carefully, thinking about time in the Castle with the royals and Phil. It would be hard to hide his true identity and leave his home and well known pathways for a while, but Dan already knew he didn't want to leave Phil's side. He'd always known Phil would still have a part in his world, as much as Dan wanted to whisk him away forever.

So Dan released a heavy sigh and nodded. "I've said before, and I'll say again, I'd do anything to be with you, Phil Lester. Even if it means following you into the Royal Palace." Dan's nose wrinkled a bit. "Though -- does that mean I have to behave myself? Can I steal anything while I'm there?" He looked down at Phil with amusement glittering in his eyes. "And let's get one thing straight - I'm never bowing to you in public, my Prince."

He lay his head against Phil's again, just wanting him close, reminding himself that Phil was here and his and always would be. Any thoughts or worries about a future paled into insignificance at having Phil here, with him, by his side. Dan knew he'd go through anything, cope with anything, if only he could keep Phil by his side.

"Honestly, I'd stay with you anywhere you asked me to," Dan promised lowly. "And if I can get you to myself out in the desert, even just some of the time -- I'd do anything, fight anything, stay anywhere. Plus, I quite liked your bed, if I'm honest."

Phil was grinning. The prospect of actually getting to keep Dan close was entirely too exciting for Phil, whether Dan wrinkled his nose at the palace or not. He laughed though, finding it endearingly cute, and rubbed his nose against Dan's. The water around them lapped gently at their sides as they trod water together, and Phil moved his arms to wind around Dan's shoulders.

"You know, most people would die for a chance inside the palace," Phil teased, "Case in point, the Duke."

His eyes crinkled up a bit with his next smile, because he was just so happy that someone, finally, had proven that they wanted Phil for so much more than just his riches and his title, and he never wanted to give that pleasure back up.

Rolling his eyes fondly, Phil let out a sigh. "Steal what you will, Dan, but know that if you take the wrong thing, I might just have to force you to give it back. Bowing to your Prince, on the other hand - well, I'll just let any other potential suitors slander you for that," he teased, and pressed in close for another soft kiss. Dan's mouth was soft and yielding to him. As much as Phil missed it when Dan teased him, took control, he quite liked this as well.

When they pulled away, Dan was quick to rest back against Phil, and Phil let his head fall back over Dan's heart. He clung to his thief because he could, because he wanted to, and because Dan was offering to give Phil the world.

"If you'll promise to be around to spend the nights with me, so I don't have to be lonely, I'll never question where you've been all day," Phil murmured softly. "And then we can take advantage of my big old bed until I have a chance to disappear with you to your desert. How does that sound?" Phil asked, voice a low purr as he nuzzled his way up into Dan's neck, placing a gentle, teasing kiss there that was the promise for more -- just not today, not now. "That way you can avoid all the boring, petty drama being a Prince brings. Though I'm sure there will be plenty of functions, and plenty of nights my family invites you for dinner as well."

Phil sighed, drawing back from Dan's hold, forcing his thief to look up at him.

"I want you to be happy. We'll figure it out. The idea of you doing anything for me is heartwarming, but I won't force you to stay somewhere you don't like every night. I'm hoping it won't come to that. I'd very much so like to get away again for some time when we aren't on a dangerous mission.

Dan listened quietly to the picture Phil was painting - a picture of them together, a future, weaving their two worlds together. It wouldn't be perfect, not when they were so disparate, but the important thing was it was possible. Dan would do anything, put up with travelling, take nights in the palace and go to as many functions as he might have to to keep Phil's world safe for Phil, and equally he'd go to any lengths to bring Phil into Dan's world, too. It didn't matter how difficult it might be, or how much he'd have to fight -- if he knew he could go back to Phil every night, Dan would do literally anything.

"I think we can make this work," he agreed with Phil, his tone beginning to take on a modicum of excitement. "I can stay the nights with you in the Palace. Every night, any night. I don't ever plan to leave you alone. And when we can, I'll steal you away from your duties and take you out travelling, show you the true extent of your kingdom. We'll have to dress you down a bit, but I'm good at travelling unseen."

"It seems only fair I'd have to dress down if you have to dress up for me," Phil agreed, flushing immediately as he realized how that sounded, and shaking his head when Dan's eyes echoed mirth back at him. Before Dan could say anything on the matter, Phil leaned in and kissed him again, drawing their lips together in another sweet kiss. Dan was quick to reciprocate it, and they both sighed at the feeling of being able to do that as much as they wanted.

Dan played with Phil's hair gently, nuzzling against him. He treasured every time he got to hold Phil in his arms, every kiss Phil placed to his lips. It made a nice change for Dan to submit to Phil for once, but he was feeling a little weak still, so allowed the change in dynamic. He'd have plenty of time to have his way with Phil in the future.

Dan's fingers in Phil's hair caused him to relax, though, as he pulled back from Dan with a radiant smile of his own. The sun was just going down behind them. It had taken a long time for Dan to wake up today, and a long time for them to climb up to the lake. Phil wondered to himself if it was such a good idea to start their journey again soon, and tried to push back the constant fear in his chest that he wouldn't make it to Cornelia in time.

He would. He knew he would. They'd retrieved the scale much faster than they'd anticipated. They could afford this little delay for a little bit longer if it meant it was safer for Dan to travel again.

"I don't like this talk of other suitors, though," Dan growled into Phil's ear, tightening his grip a little possessively around his back. He ran the hand that wasn't in Phil's hair down Phil's back, tracing careful arcs around his bruises. "When word spreads of what happened to the Duke, I'm hoping most will see that you are very much taken, my Prince." Dan's forehead creased a bit, though, and he hesitated, unwilling to let Phil see one of his final insecurities.

But it was an issue that would need ironing out, eventually.

Phil shivered as Dan drew him from his thoughts with a low growl that startled and confused Phil for all of a few seconds, and then a startled laugh dragged from his lips. "My love," Phil whispered back, "Have I not proven myself trustworthy with other suitors?" he asked, nuzzling at Dan and playfully biting that bottom of Dan's ear. His own hands followed Dan's movements, but against the top of Dan's back as Phil didn't want to draw away. "We must be careful of what word travels of the Duke. It may yet be better to leave him to the wolves, though I won't complain if the people who would try and steal me knew of your dagger throwing prowess and feared you, my thief."

Dan grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everyone who needs to know how good I am at throwing weapons will know. I’m not exactly about to leave you open to just anybody.”

Dan paused for a moment, though, narrowing his eyes as he followed that thought through. "There is something though, my Prince," Dan confessed quietly. "I -- I know absolutely nothing of your world. If I do go to functions -- as I'd love to be by your side -- I won't have a clue what to do, or what the formalities are. I'm not so used to entering the palace through the front door." He snickered a little, hiding his insecurity behind his usual arrogance. "The rafters, though - the rafters and I are old friends."

Perking up in confusion at Dan's quiet, fearful confession, Phil pulled back and tilted his head at Dan. "Daniel, to my people you are a mere commoner. Lack of knowledge will be accepted and forgiven for at least a year's time. You've got plenty of time to learn the social graces of the royals. Please don't fret. I'll always take care of you," he murmured back, and kissed Dan's cheek for good measure.

"Besides, I'm sure you and the rafters will be getting plenty reacquainted any chance they get, knowing you," he teased.

Dan couldn't help but snicker at Phil's reassurance. "Yes, well, it's hardly my fault that your rafters are so appealing." He drew Phil back a little, just enough to smirk at him. "Besides, I don't think you'll be complaining next time I entertain you when you're bored out of your mind during another of those terrible speeches."

He did sober a little at Phil's explanation, though. It was true that he'd pass as a commoner, but Dan was going to have to get used to being Daniel Howell, to being seen in public again. He'd become so used to hiding his face that it was going to be a significant change for him.

Dan couldn't help but lean into Phil again, giving him another gentle kiss. He was enjoying these soft touches, so much more relaxed than they'd had before. For the first time, it felt like they truly had time to enjoy each other, even though Dan knew they still had to get back to the castle.

He said as much, leaning into Phil through the blissfully warm water.

"I know we need to get back to your family and all, but I'd be lying if I said I was in a hurry to leave." He sighed softly, caressing Phil's skin everywhere he could reach, playing with his hair and tapping against his hip. "I feel like I haven't seen you properly in ages. If we had time, I'd spend hours proving just how much I love you and why no suitor will ever match up to me." He sighed again, tracing his fingers up from Phil's hip to his stomach. "Not that I truly believe you'd go with anyone else. As you've said, you've done quite enough to prove yourself to me."

Phil's expression fell a bit at the reminder of his family, which he knew was a ridiculous reaction to have, but it was hard to think on them with all that happened, and Dan wounded in Phil’s arms. Over the course of the past few days, Phil had written and scripted three letters for his family to send with the Raven as soon as they reached the river once again. He'd been careful what he'd revealed, though, in case the wrong person got hold of them; he’d promised them he was on his his way home, and that he’d handled everything, but he didn’t breathe a word about the dragon scale or Dan’s injuries, knowing his family would understand his sentiment of hope, and wanting no one to know of their current handicap in Dan’s wounds.

"I'd much rather be here with you as well," Phil murmured, "Or in our tree, or in your home... I treasure the time we get alone. But you're right. We have a mission to complete," he admitted, and sighed as he dragged Dan in, moving to float on his back a bit more. He stared up into warm brown eyes, and wished that Dan was well enough to do as he said he would.

"And as much as I'd love to have you show me just how much you love me, you don't have to prove yourself to me. I know you're the best person for me. You just have to accept that I'm not letting you go."

The memory of the last few times they'd sex flashed in Phil's mind. He missed the way he got to feel Dan under him, over him, all around him. He missed just being so close and intimate, though this was nearly as good.

Sighing as their little bubble seemed to pop, Phil finally pulled away. "Are you ready?" he asked, gesturing to the edge of the lake.

Dan was loath to leave the little lake, but he knew he'd carry the memory of it with him forever, so he nodded his willingness to leave with Phil.

Having gotten the chance to have Phil there with him acting so soft and gentle had reminded Dan just how good his life had become -- he'd never thought he'd have this. Someone who loved him so much, enough to delay and pause to take care of him. Dan was left with no doubt how much Phil loved him.

At Dan's nod of approval, Phil took both of Dan's hands in his and began to paddle backwards, dragging them both to the edge of the lake where they'd managed to float away from. He climbed over the edge first, before offering Dan his body once more to cling to as Phil pulled him out like a child. Dan groaned a little as his stiff side was stretched, but the bandages were still not red with blood, which was better news than Phil could have hoped for.

The poultice was working, then. Dan’s wounds, last Phil had seen them last night, appeared to be healing quite remarkably well, and fast, for how deep they’d been only four days earlier.

Phil tried not to think about what was in the herbs. Perhaps the village had other gifts from the witch that Dan and Phil were using, but this was the only hope Phil had left. He’d just have to believe that nothing bad was going to come of this.

Once both men were free from the water, Phil helped them to dry off with Dan’s soiled trousers, and then encouraged his thief to borrow Phil’s for the trek back down from the lake. Trying his bed to be unashamed of his own naked body, Phil helped Dan back down the mountain path, which was far easier going than going up had been, with their bloodied clothes bundled up in Dan’s arms to prevent the excitement of any nearby animals.

Still, Phil could see that moving downwards was jostling Dan’s side more than going up had been, and that he was grimacing in far more pain, but he said nothing. Dan was determined to get back down on his own, and Phil just had to let him.

The minute they were back in their cave, however, Phil was quick to force Dan back into bed, ignoring his offer to help with dinner, and threw their ruined clothing in the fire to encourage it to continue to burn. He had dinner to make now, after all.

Dan’s side was quite a bit sorer now he'd moved around a bit, so Dan didn't argue when Phil insisted he get straight back into bed rather than helping Phil get dinner going. Dan accepted his fate readily enough and lay back in the furs, closing his eyes and focusing on calming his breathing back down. The scratches in his sides had bled a bit, he could feel it, and they were aching constantly, sending little thrums of pain through his veins. He let out a breath, gritting his teeth.

After shuffling through their now nearly empty packs, Phil found a change of clothes, pulled them on, and got started on dinner. It was an easy affair, mostly water with a bit of deer fat to flavor it up, and some meat for texture and protein. Their rations were getting a bit low, but Phil thought they could still make it at least a little bit longer, which was all he could truly hope for.

Once the meal was finished, he served up two bowls, and carried one over to Dan.

Phil reappearing with food cheered Dan up a bit, and he accepted a bowl of broth greedily, slurping away again. He was serious about Phil's cooking - now Dan knew how good he was, he was determined to make Phil cook for him more often. It might just be because had Dan never had someone else cooking for him, though, but that’s what made it so special.

They ate in silence, with Phil tossing Dan constant fond looks, but also worried ones. He could see Dan's bandages had a spotting of blood now; it wasn't much, but it was something, and surely it wasn't good to have Dan wrapped up in pond water? He'd have to change them, soon, even if they didn’t have much supply left. The next time Dan had a little bit of spotting, they could hold off, but Phil was adamant Dan wouldn't remain stuck with lake filled bandages around his torso.

He was just going to retrieve another roll of bandages when Dan spoke up, and Phil glanced behind him.

"So, tomorrow," Dan started, again reluctant to think about having to leave this place. They had a few more places to go before they got back to the palace, though, and Dan was glad to think he'd have a bit more time with Phil. Selfish, because his family needed to dragon scale as soon as possible, but Dan had always been a selfish person.

"I think I'm well enough to travel, at least a little." Dan set his bowl aside and glanced up into Phil's eyes. "Probably to get to the river. I imagine you want to send word to your family?”

"I want you to be safe," Phil corrected him, crawling back over and beginning to undo the bandages currently wrapped around Dan. "I want you to be healthy and okay. I don't want you to overexert yourself. Yes, of course I'd like to send word to my family, but I don't want to push you too far," he explained, staring at Dan's chest as he worked slowly over him.

"If you promise you think you're up to traveling again, I'll allow it. But you have to tell me when you can't move anymore. Being back at the river as soon as possible would be good, sure, but not at the risk of your safety,” Phil insisted.

Still, he couldn’t deny how good it would be to finally return to the forest, and not just because that was closer to him. “I can find us our tree again, and you can stay safe in there while I collect the materials I need. Without the Duke, it will be both easier and harder to build a bridge."

Dan couldn't help but roll his eyes a little at Phil's constant fussing over him. As adorable as it was to see him acting like a mother hen over Dan's wounds, Dan itched to be moving again, hating having to lie around helplessly while Phil did everything for him. It made Dan feel useless, and worse than that, it meant he couldn't reach out and grab for Phil whenever he wanted to touch him.

So maybe Dan was clingy. No one but Phil needed to know that.

"For the last time, Phil, I am fine," Dan grumbled, obediently holding his arms out when Phil went to change his bandages. He kept his eyes trained on Phil's face, refusing to wince as his wounds were exposed once more, instead studying the varying colour in Phil's eyes to distract himself. They glinted slightly green today, offset by the white tunic that he'd apparently stolen from Dan's wardrobe again.

"I promise I'm ok to travel," Dan kept his tone just short of a whine, "And I'm as eager as you are to be back at our tree. If it will set your mind at ease, I promise to stop if I'm getting too tired. I think I'll be fine, though. My head is much clearer today."

Phil could understand that Dan was getting irritated and restless, but it didn't mean Phil was any more willing to take any chances with him. He wanted to keep Dan in bed longer if he could, but he'd already promised just one more day, and Dan had given it to him. He'd proven himself by being out and about for a good part of the afternoon, so really, Phil had no choice but to trust him and do as he said.

Not that he was actually all that happy about it.

His hand's worked tirelessly as he went about drying Dan's skin of, trying not to wince at the scary wounds on Dan's left side as he moved in to paint them with poultice once again. Dan winced a bit, his body tensing, and Phil didn't blame him. He just hoped the poultice was still doing its job of taking some of the pain away and helping to heal and keep out infection.

"If you say you're good to travel, I'll believe you," Phil finally muttered in response, eyes flicking up to Dan's. He wanted to stop being so protective, but he couldn't, not when Dan had literally jumped in front of a dragon for Phil like the idiot he was.

Dan couldn't resist reaching out to trace a finger down the side of Phil's face, despite knowing it must be distracting. He just wanted to touch.

Phil felt his heart stutter a bit when Dan reached out to gently trace a finger down his face though, and he tried to focus back on the task at hand, but it was difficult with Dan touching him. It was always hard to focus when Dan was touching him.

After a moment, Dan smirked a little, meeting Phil's gaze with a teasing glint to his eye. "I'm looking forward to seeing a proper bridge. Let's see how much was the Duke's incompetence, and how much was you just not being able to meet my standards, hm?" He chuckled, and patted Phil's cheek once before letting him go.

Phil’s gaze snapped back to Dan in no time at those words,, furious as he glared at his thief.

"Hey! I promised you I could make a bridge, didn't I? Whether it was crap or not, it got us across, didn't it?" Phil couldn't help being cross at the teasing. Some part of him knew that Dan had only even started it because he was bitter the entire bridge building had been done with the Duke far too close for Dan's comfort, but it was beginning to truly upset Phil. "I can meet your standards fine," he huffed, turning his gaze away again.

Despite his frustration, his fingers remained gentle as he rubbed in the poultice, finally pulling away to grab at the bandages again.

"I'll show you a goddamn bridge," he muttered to himself.

Dan threw his head back and laughed, unable to stop himself at Phil's disgruntled tone. He knew Phil was getting tired of the bridge teasing, but it was gold to Dan. He liked being able to dig a little, to give Phil a push, knowing he'd push back just as much. It showed a kind of tenderness to Dan, a knowledge that they knew each other well enough to poke fun and withstand words not meant to hurt.

Dan's laughter broke through the agitation, and before Phil knew it, he was grinning as well, staring up at Dan with a deep fondness in his eyes. No matter what Dan said to him, no matter how he teased, Phil didn't think he could ever truly be mad at him, at least not for very long. Dan, when you got past the layer of him that was hard and unforgiving, was actually a very gentle soul. Who really, really enjoyed teasing and messing with Phil.

It was a good change, though. Phil was sick of those who tipped around him, refusing to tell Phil how they truly felt or what that I actually thought.

Dan would make a good advisor, now that Phil thought about it, but he shook his head. His thief was merely that - I thief. Not because he wasn't capable of more, but because that's what he wanted, that's what he enjoyed. Dan needed his freedom as much as Phil did, and an advisor didn't have that. Instead, Dan could be Phil's personal advisor, and he smiled at the thought, glancing up when Dan pressed his hand against Phil's cheek again.

When Dan calmed down a bit, he reached out to touch Phil's cheek again, softly this time. "I know, I know. I'm sure you build excellent bridges, my Phil." Dan's tone was filled with fond gentleness, and he leaned his head closer, itching to kiss Phil again. Unfortunately, his side twinged again so he was forced to sit back, hiding another wince.

"Besides, I wouldn't have a clue how to get through the forest without you there," Dan murmured, wanting to heal some of the wounds he'd given Phil. "I honestly had no idea trees like our tree even existed. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid of such a tight space if you weren't there. It's so different to my desert."

Phil was winding the bandages back in place now, and with the poultice setting in, Dan was able to relax a little. He leaned his head back against the cave wall and closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh. "Honestly, you're so good to me, Phil. I can't even remember the last time someone took care of me, yet here you are, fussing like a mother hen. I want to hate it, but I kind of really don't."

"It's good to know I can still teach you a thing or two," Phil admitted, sniffing primly, the effect ruined by his smile. "I must admit though, I enjoy you needing to rely on me for a change. Whether you like it or not, I think I'm always going to fuss, but you've really no right to say anything when you're just as bad. What was it that happened the first time we walked your desert? I nearly walked into a vat of quicksand, and your first instinct was to tackle me to the ground and then check for injuries," he teased, looking up and realizing that Dan was staring at his lips a with a little disgruntled frown.

"I had to protect you, it was totally different," Dan sniffed. "Knocking you over seemed like the best way to make sure you couldn't fight with me. You do that a lot, you know." There was a slight whine to his tone, but Dan was too busy tracking Phil's lips to pay much attention.

"You like that I fight with you," Phil teased, holding himself just far enough away that Dan couldn't' kiss him himself, but close enough that Dan could feel the tension between them. "Perhaps it's not fair when it comes to life or death situations, I admit, but I think you like that I challenge you," he continued, eyes flickering between Dan's eyes and his mouth, his own lips parted for show.

Dan would never admit to the fact that he was pouting in that moment. He wasn't used to having to sit back and wait for what he wanted, always the kind of person who took first and asked questions later. Now, though, he was sitting powerless against a wall with Phil leaning over him with a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. A mouth that Dan would really quite like to kiss, thank you very much.

Smirk growing, and realizing he had the upper hand for once, Phil leaned in. "Do you want a kiss, my thief?"

Dan pouted further when Phil teased him. Dan was itching to just lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, to grab Phil and force him to pay proper attention to Dan, but he couldn't move without pulling on his newly bandaged wounds and ruining all of Phil's hard work. He leaned as far forward as he could, and looked up at Phil under his lashes, trying to look as appealing as he could. "You know as well as I do what I want, my Phil."

Phil should have known that Dan would fight dirty, however, as seconds later Dan had moved forward as much as possible, head lowered as he looked up at Phil from under dark lashes, words a careful tease.

With a small growl, Phil leaned in without another word and took Dan’s lips in a passionate kiss. He’d missed being able to do this as he nipped at Dan’s bottom lip and pressed his tongue past his lips, hands moving to lightly press around Dan’s hips, tight on the right side, and light on the left, just to anchor Dan in place.

Dan was giving as good as he got, kissing back just as fiercely, and tilting his head a bit to the side to get Phil closer to him. On that same token, however, Dan was far more pliant under Phil than he ever usually was, and it felt so good having that trust in his hands.

Phil had all of Dan, from his heart, to his mind.

It took a few moments for Phil to pull away, having missed being able to kiss Dan so much, and he was red in the face when he did. Dan, on the other hand, was equally as breathless as Phil, despite the fact that he was smirking at the way Phil looked dazed and a little too blissed out.

Groaning, Phil shook his head. "You're a menace," he said. "It's hardly my fault I can't control myself when I’m around you."

Phil had fully intended to make Dan beg for that kiss, but seeing Dan look at him like that, with eyes so gorgeous and dark, well. He hadn't been able to help himself. His sex drive might have been a little bit... over active. Phil refused to get up to anything while Dan was injured, though, so he better not even try.

Dan was grinning triumphantly, quite unable to help himself. He raised his brows at Phil, acting cocky because he knew he'd gotten exactly what he wanted. It was nice to be pliant under Phil for once, and Dan was starting to wonder what it would be like to let Phil take complete control over their nighttime activities. He was enjoying himself too much not to explore that thought more now, so he dared to push a little further. "I think you like me challenging you just as much, my Prince. Seems like I can get you to comply easily enough."

He leaned his head back against the wall, more tired than he'd like to admit. Dan could feel the desire to be close to Phil as alive and well as ever, but the dull throb in his side was testament enough to why they couldn't take this any further for now. Instead, he reached out for Phil again, well aware that he was acting like a needy child.

"Come cuddle with me," Dan demanded. He knew he'd sleep soon, and he didn't like the thought of leaving Phil awake and alone to wallow. At least if he was holding Phil, he could bring him some modicum of comfort while he slept.

Mind still a little muddled with desire, Phil was unable to form a reply to Dan's words, because they were true. Phil did like that Dan challenged him back. The biggest issue was how easily Phil tended to comply to Dan, verses how easily Dan compiled to Phil. Obviously, when it came right down to it, Phil could stand his ground easily enough, but he seemed to have no self control when it came to giving Dan exactly what he wanted.

It took Dan leaning his head back against the wall he was propped up against, eyes fluttering as he reached out for Phil with begging arms, to shake off the part of him the desired more, and Phil very easily did as Dan had asked. Carefully, he laid Dan back onto the furs again, and climbed into his hold. Dan was on laying on his back, and Phil had his head rested over Dan's chest on the right side, one hand pressed against Dan's stomach. Dan's right arm was wrapped around Phil's shoulder, but his fingers played with Phil's side where his tunic had scrunched up.

"Sleep, my love,” Phil murmured. “You need your rest. I'll wake you in the morning to start our travels once more."

Dan sighed contentedly, drawing Phil in as close as he could. He pressed his face back into his favourite place in Phil's hair, and closed his eyes, revelling in the way Phil's body felt against him, wanting nothing more than to caress him. He played with the little bit of bare skin he could reach under Phil's tunic, gently tapping out a rhythm there that fell slower as he fell into sleep.

#phanfiction #iwritephanthings #snowbunnylester #phan fantasy au #phanfic #steal my heart

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thekimmiandjackieshow · 7 years

Text

My Day on Main Street.

Main Street, U.S.A. It’s what many Disney fans think of when they think of visiting the parks. Whether guests visit the west coast or the east coast, they will definitely take a stroll down Main Street, one of the most magical streets on Earth. Just under the train tracks at Walt Disney World is the not-so-subtle scent of Disney’s famous popcorn. Guests on one side are rushing into City Hall to get their celebration buttons and park recommendations. Guests on the other side are rushing into the theater to meet Mickey Mouse or Tinkerbell. Right on the corner, where the Town Square ends and Main Street begins, sits the famous Emporium. On the other side sit a variety of shops from a classic confectionary to the famous ice cream parlor. The walk down Main Street turns very sweet as smells of freshly made caramel apples and fudge waft into the air. At the end of Main Street, to the left, sits Casey’s Corner. To the right, Plaza Ice Cream Parlor. Depending on which way the wind is blowing, one can smell hot salted fries and hot dogs, or perfect waffle cones. The street is bustling with guests and upbeat instrumentals throughout the entire day, greeting guests the way they’ve been greeted since Magic Kingdom first opened their gates. Of course, just beyond the quick service restaurant and ice cream parlor, is the hub grass, creating a perfect garden that sits in front of the magnificently tall Cinderella Castle.

As the day rolls on, parade performers will dance down the street, characters will take to the stage right in front of the castle, the fireworks will signify the end of the night, and the final Kiss Goodnight will light up the castle and thank guests for another magical day.

It’s no wonder that so many Cast Members love working on Main Street. While it has its own challenges, working the shops of Main Street sounded like one of the most magical places a Cast Member could work. So obviously, I had to try it out for myself.

I had been hesitant about picking up a shift at the Emporium. Famous for being “the shop that had it all” and “the one stop shop for Disney merchandise”, it was arguably the busiest store on property, if not second only to World of Disney in Disney Springs. I had gotten so used to Animal Kingdom that I was worried I’d be overwhelmed by the Emporium. My roommate from the spring happened to work there though, and insisted it wasn’t that bad. Sure enough, a shift fell into my lap and I knew I had to take it.

My shift was a midday shift, so parking at the Magic Cast lot was awful. I parked in a spot near a lake I had never seen before and walked towards costuming. The Emporium costume was easy to find - one of the perks of being such a large store with so many Cast Members. It also helped that I had been in Magic Kingdom costuming several times before for the other shifts I had picked up. The accessory bin in the middle of costuming held the clip on tie I needed, and I was soon on my way. This costume was one of my favorites. While most costumes went perfectly with the theme of the land, most of them were also uncomfortable and fairly unflattering. The Emporium costume is pretty cute for what it is though, looks good on almost everybody, and is comfortable. Though I bet people who have to stock in a skirt are less than thrilled about that. I went into the tunnels, changed into the costume, and took the straight shot beneath the castle to Main Street.

Finding the doors to the Emporium made me a little nervous. It wasn't that it was difficult to find, but I was worried that I’d open a random door and find myself on stage. I found my way to two large swinging doors at the top of a staircase, but the sign on it said to be sure you were 100% stage ready before going in. I still hadn't found the lockers yet. I walked back down the stairs and a few signs led me to the Main Street breakroom. Lockers sat directly across from that - the type where you punch in your own code to lock it. A few Main Street Cast Members were standing there, throwing things in their locker and putting their name tags on, so I figured I was in the right place. Back to the double doors I went. I thought that even if I had ended up on stage in the middle of the Emporium, I could ask somebody for directions to CDS (where I was meant to clock in). It turned out that the double doors led only to a small stock room with a CDS computer and a shelf where coordinators were planning their day. The CDS corner had a few Cast Members awkwardly shifting their weight back and forth, all wearing skirts that fell at different lengths, who were nervously making conversation with each other. They were all EHH too.

I imagine that a place as big as the Emporium always has EHH Cast Members awkwardly roaming around. Even our small DAK location had a few EHH come in each day. A small paper just above CDS told us to talk to a coordinator right after clocking in and before getting an assignment. There was so much to take in though, that our entire small group missed this memo and picked up an assignment.

Cast Members go to CDS frequently throughout their shift to “get assignments”. What it means is that a computer software program has the preset information that determines what position needs to be filled at any given time. A coordinator can add or take away these presets to fill need on-demand. It’s also the system that gives cast their breaks or “bump outs” (for clocking out at the end of their shift).

A stressed out coordinator turned around and told us we all should have waited. I guess it’s one of those things that seems obvious to the people that are there all the time, but we were all new and all taking everything in. To us, it was just another piece of paper amongst all the other notices surrounding CDS. He rearranged our assignments so that other Cast Members didn’t miss their breaks and assigned us all to a meeting with him. He printed out brochures welcoming us to the Emporium and had information we’d need throughout our shift. It included an actual map of the Emporium with a key stating what merchandise was where. That was the moment I started to feel overwhelmed. Then he assigned each of us a Cast Member to give us a tour of the shop and explain some of the things we’d definitely need to know.

The Emporium, of course, had some themed language. This was one of my favorite parts about picking up shifts in other places. Animal Kingdom Strollers didn’t tend to have any themed language. Breaks were breaks, registers were just registers, stacking and prepping strollers was just stack/unstack, etc. Themed language made a huge difference for me. It was, to me, (at least in part) what set Disney apart from other places. It was what helped remind Cast Members that they were more than Merchandise Cast Members, they were part of a story. While some assignments in the Emporium were just assignments, going to the bathroom and going on break had code phrasing. Even things as small as that made the job more fun.

My shift started out in one of the large rooms, the one with high ceilings and tall windows. I couldn’t begin to tell you what zone that was, but there I was, ringing guests out left and right. It was mid afternoon, so the store was slow. A guest occasionally asked me where something was, but another Cast Member was always there to walk the guest directly to the item. I stood in one spot, behind the register, until my next assignment.

It wasn’t long before Festival of Fantasy passed by our windows. The store emptied out to uplifting FOF music, and nearby Cast Members started to hum along as they cleaned up the store. Maleficent stretched her head high above the crowd to breathe fire, and I watched her amaze guests from the tall windows in the room. The Emporium was quickly becoming my favorite place to work.

After the parade, a small rush of people popped into the store. I rang a few guests out back to back, managing the line with another Cast Member on register next to me. A few guests bought an extraordinary amount of souvenirs, while other guests spilled out their pocket change for one last Mickey Mouse keychain for their fully decked out kid. The line dissipated quickly though, and I was once again in awe of Emporium’s efficiency. See, at Animal Kingdom Main Entrance, the person at registers is never JUST the person at registers. They are also the people wandering the store floor to make sure that everybody is finding everything they need. They are the ones tidying up the store to make sure things are in their proper place. They are the ones checking the back for a different sized shirt because the ONE stocker is either on break or is working the cart across the way. They are the ones manning the ENTIRE store. The store is small, but it does sometimes get filled with people, and when it does, there aren’t a lot of Cast Members to get things done. It often leaves the person at register running around the place quite a bit. This also happens at the actual strollers location towards the end of the night. One person is checking people out, collecting strollers/wheelchairs/ECV’s, refunding ECV deposits, collecting locker keys, maintaining the package pick up service, and trying to wish guests one last “wild night” before they leave Animal Kingdom. This might be manageable if guests all stood in one single-file line and waited for assistance, but the reality is that guests are approaching the garage area with their strollers and such while folks waiting to check out hang out by the registers. It’s doable with the right energy and attitude, but picking up a shift at the Emporium made me realize that other locations are well-staffed. Sure they’re busier for a larger percentage of the working day, but it means that each Cast Member is purely responsible for their one job. They trust that the other Cast Members will do their part, so they can do their’s. My assignment was to be on registers, whether a guest was there or not. I stood in one place the entire time. It felt unusual.

Throughout the day I was moved to various rooms. I worked in the princess area for a while and sorted charms. When I got my slip for my “tea” (my break), I was given a 30 minute break. I thought it was a mistake but apparently six and a half hour shifts warrant 30 minute breaks in Magic Kingdom. At Animal Kingdom, six hour shifts = 15 minute break. As I was hanging out in the Magic Kingdom break room, I ran into my old coordinator. He transferred to Magic Kingdom for parade audience control, but had been one of my favorite coordinators at DAK. We talked briefly before I went back upstairs. Shortly after that, I took another 15 minute tea. I felt like I hadn’t even worked at all but there I was, on another break. I spent it talking to a girl who worked outdoor food vending on Main Street before going back upstairs.

The rest of my day was very casual. I worked at different registers in different rooms. I made acquaintances with the other Cast Members during the slow periods. I hummed along to the princess music in the princess room, up until a little guest pulled on my skirt to ask me if I was a princess. And then, before I knew it, my carriage had arrived and my day was over. Typically at DAK, Cast Members can receive a “bump out” 15 minutes or less before their shift is over. It’s meant to give the Cast Member time to wrap up what they’re doing with the guest they’re working with before walking back to the register to clock out. At Magic Kingdom though, Cast Members are allowed to clock out a few minutes early and still get paid as though they clocked out at the end of their shift to account for the time it takes to get back to their car. This means that bump outs happen even earlier than they usually would.

I clocked out, but I felt surprised that the day was already over. Between the tour of the Emporium, the 30 minute break and the 15 minute break, and the early bump out, it felt as though I hadn’t even worked. Staying in one position and only being responsible for that one job was also far less exhausting to me. I looked at my phone to see how many steps I had taken during my shift.

6,000.

My norm for a 6.5 hour shift at Animal Kingdom was roughly 15-18,000.

Now I’m not saying a job at the Emporium is easier than a job at DAK. I know it has drawbacks that I didn’t experience. But I was surprised to find that it was so well organized and so well staffed that I didn’t need to do a million things at once. All I had to do was focus on the guest in front of me, and that made for more memorable conversations and more magical moments.

I walked through the tunnels and back to the shuttle. At that moment, I was so grateful to be a Cast Member. I imagined all the people that dreamed of the day they would get to watch Festival of Fantasy from the window of their workplace before clocking out and making the walk in the infamous tunnels beneath the castle. I thought about all the people who were on Main Street, getting ready to watch the fireworks and thinking about how they never wanted to leave Walt Disney World. I thought about all the people, still at home, applying over and over again to be part of the college program. The simple magic of the Emporium and the fantastic leaders there made me want to continue being a Cast Member for as long as I could. I wished that I felt that way more often as I boarded my bus back to my car.

As I stepped off the shuttle at the Cast parking lot, I realized I had parked in such a hurry that I didn’t really know where I had parked. All I had remembered was that it was by some body of water. I spent the next while trying to find it, and managed to catch some of Wishes as I searched. It made me miss home. It made me miss the days where I would walk back to the Cast parking lot at Disneyland after a shift in Downtown Disney during the fireworks. Although the fireworks at Disneyland are much closer to the cars, so all the car alarms would be blaring and all that could be heard was the sound of cars going haywire and booming fireworks. I did miss home, but I was happy to be where I was. The Emporium was a magical place, and I wish I got the chance to work there more.

#mainstreet #mainstreetusa #disney #waltdisneyworld #wdw #merchandisecastmember #merchandisecp #collegeprogram #disneycollegeprogram #dcp #disneyprograms #commons #emporium #magickingdom #florida #orlando #castmember

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miss-rachelberry · 4 years

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i met a girl // Tinchel

Tagging: @miss-rachelberry & @tbirdtina

Where: William McKinley High School, Lima, Ohio

When: September 11, 1961

Summary: Two months after Tina and Rachel first met, and a few weeks since they said what they thought would be goodbye, they meet up again in the most unlikely of places.

Warnings: CW for mentions of child abandonment, and light mentions of homophobia.

Word count: 5560 words

RACHEL:

The summer ended too quickly, in Rachel’s opinion. If you asked her she would say it had nothing to do with the girl from Ohio who had come to visit her grandmother for the summer and shaken up her whole world. Of course not. The weather had been particularly beautiful in San Francisco that summer and Rachel had enjoyed the freedom to go to the beach, see shows, and all the other things that came with beautiful weather.

What Rachel knew inside, though, what she wouldn’t admit, was that it had everything to do with the girl from Ohio who had come to visit her grandmother for the summer. After that fateful day on the beach, the girls had spent nearly every day together. Even if it was only for a few hours, or to share a coffee and then go their separate ways, they still saw quite a bit of each other. What Rachel also knew was that the feelings she’d developed for Tina by the time August came around were not normal friendship feelings. It wasn’t the first time Rachel had felt that way about a girl, there’d been summer camp crushes here and there. It was the first time she felt something so strong about a girl, though. And with the lingering touches, the kissing on the cheek, the occasional hand-holding, Rachel had a niggling feeling that Tina felt the same way for her. But Rachel never said anything. She couldn’t. Because admitting her feelings about someone of the same sex would draw too much attention. Attention that might then be directed to Rachel’s father, Hiram, and his partner, Leroy.

When Hiram had been in high school, he’d had a girlfriend. This was mostly to keep up appearances since he’d known since he was small that he did not feel the way for girls that society said he should. He knew he had to make sure no one found out his secret, and Shelby was a good friend. It made perfect sense. Then one night after graduation, the two had gone to a party. The alcohol had been flowing and Hiram, in the moment, had decided to experiment. Afterwards, Shelby and Hiram broke up. He was going to college in San Francisco, she in New York. It only made sense.

Over the next year, Hiram found himself flourishing in San Francisco. There he found a much more open community where he was able to meet men and women like him. This was where Hiram met Leroy, and their friendship quickly turned into a deeper relationship. Hiram knew things would be difficult, but the love the two shared made it that much worthwhile. But then one night, the summer after Hiram’s first year at college, Shelby had shown up on his doorstep, a bundle of blankets in her arms. His daughter. She explained that she couldn’t take care of the baby any longer. Her parents wouldn’t speak to her unless she gave the baby up for adoption, and she needed their financial support. Not wanting to give her child up to the cold foster care system, she knew that Hiram would take her. Before Hiram could even say anything, Shelby had placed the bundle in his arms and was gone.

Of course Hiram had raised Rachel from then on, with the help of Leroy. This made it more complicated for them to hide their relationship, but they found their way through. A few years later, just before Rachel’s fifth birthday, Leroy’s grandfather passed away and left him the ownership of a curio shop in Buena Vista’s Market Street area, as well as a spacious three-bedroom apartment right above the shop. The two decided to run the shop together, and as such, it made sense for the two to live in the apartment as well, all the while keeping up appearances. They always worried the disguise would be too thin, but it had held up all these years.

Rachel knew what would happen if others found out the truth about her parents, because they truly were both her parents. They’d taught her the importance of hiding this secret from a young age, and she did. She’d trained herself to only address Hiram as “dad” in public, to treat Leroy like merely an uncle, a good friend of her father’s when others were around. It worked, but it also wouldn’t take much for the whole thing to come tumbling down. That’s why Rachel tamped down her feelings for Tina. They were just friends, she kept telling herself. Nothing more. She had to look like the perfect girl so that no one would really think twice about her living situation.

That didn’t mean that when she and Tina said their goodbyes in mid-August that Rachel didn’t spend the entire next few weeks heartbroken that she would probably never see this wonderful girl with whom she’d shared so much of her life, her hopes and dreams with. But Rachel was determined to carry on. She still had her senior year to look forward to, and then performing arts school after. Everything would be fine, even without Tina.

And then came another bombshell. Hiram’s mother was ill, and Hiram had to be in Ohio to help care for her. They were leaving the shop in the care of some good friends, and the three of them would be moving under the guise of opening up another shop in Lima. Rachel’s ears perked up when she heard the name. Lima. Mind you, she’d spend the entire summer hearing Tina talk about how much she hated the town, but still. Tina lived in Lima. They would see each other again. Hopefully. Tina made it sound like such a small town, surely there’d be no way they’d miss each other?

This is how Rachel found herself here, in early September in the halls of William McKinley High School, searching for Tina in all of the students’ faces. Every time she caught a glimpse of long dark hair, or a leather jacket, her heart sped up. When it turned out to not be Tina, her heart dropped again. She shook her head. She had to get herself together. She couldn’t be this eager to find her. She had to be casual. She also had to start looking for her classroom or else she would be late on her first day, which would just not do.

It wasn’t until lunchtime that Rachel saw her. She’d gone to her locker to put her books away. And there she was, Tina Cohen-Chang, just a few lockers down from hers. Rachel took a deep breath. Be cool, she whispered to herself. She cleared her throat and walked up to the girl, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. “Surprise!” she said with a bright smile.

TINA:

Before she knew it, the best summer of Tina’s life had come to an end. Long gone were the days of shy smiles, lingering looks with the gentle brushes of fingertips. Even now she could still hear the chime in her smile at Tina’s babbling words each time that they spoke. Or the warmth of her gaze when they sat on the piers to watch the sun sinking in the glistening waters but neither one of them were watching the sunset- not really. Then there was that one night, looking up at the stars talking futures and dreams and when the night air was a little too chilly, Tina draped her leather jacket over her shoulders pulling her a little closer- for warmth honestly.

All those beautiful summer memories gone like the autumn coming along to steal all the greens from summer. Tina could still feel the lump in her throat as she said her farewells to Rachel. There was no good in saying goodbye because deep down as much as she wished for them to see each other again, Tina knew that would be a thing of fairy tales. And fairytales were always full of princes saving the princess, never about two girls… she dismisses the thought. To call what they had would be something foolish. She was no pretty little fool that isn’t the way that Tina would allow herself to be. Those thoughts and all those feelings, certainly the lightness and sweetness of them all, she could keep to herself like the secrets she knew that she would have to keep.

Besides, this September meant her ‘big old’ senior year as her father would like to remind her. This is meant to be the biggest year of her life. The time that she changed and finally grew into the person she was meant to be. Tina could hear his exasperated tones ringing in her ear. Some days her father, Parker Cohen-Chang could be her biggest support but other days (which seemed to be most days) he would be a constant reminder that she needs to work on herself. She rolls her eyes thinking about it. All a father wanted for his little girl was to be happy, by “happy” he meant with a man on her side with future prospects- a man who would be a gentleman taking her home by 9 o’clock and give her father the grandson and a man who would wait until marriage. With the hopes that Tina would begin to be all prim and proper, no longer wanting to get her hands down and dirty whilst maybe learning how to keep a home together.

Oh how you have got it so wrong old man, Tina thought sadly to herself. Parker had been slightly blinded by his vision of his daughter’s future to even notice any of her “odd” behaviour unlike her mother who had kept a sharp eye about it all. Leila Cohen-Chang had watched it all with the sly comments about Tina visiting her new “gal pal“ rather frequent in the summer. Rules of curfews would fly out the window with Parker yet this was not the case with Leila. A cold conversation with her mother feels grey in comparison to the technicoloured memories of Rachel. Her mother is trying to strike away the rainbows of her summer. A chill ran down her spine, her mother’s voice was fickle as poison.

“We allow you to smoke, we allow you to get your hand dirty. We allow you to be you darling but just don’t be you as loudly as you have been. Somethings are better in the shadows,” her voice sweetens ever so slightly “Make this the best school year of your life. Remember we love you very much. Try and make your father proud.”

Proud. How was she supposed to do that when living a lie? The days back at home, Tina hardly spent time in the house trying to find the odd jobs around the one horse town to own that little bit more money. A bit more money then she could get her wheels and flip a middle finger to this hell hole to never look back.

Sure Tina loved her parents, with all her heart. However, she shouldn’t be the one to change for so long they taught her to speak up and be herself, why now should she change all of that? Everything is turmoil in her head. Rest didn’t come all too easy, only until she drifted into sleeps of sweet dreams about Rachel. A small smile tugged on her lips as they held hands tightly, running down the sandy shore where they fell and…

Sweet dreams ruined by her fucking alarm clock. Even worse. She had awoken to her final year at the soul-sucking hell known as William Mckinley High. Reluctantly, she dragged her sorry ass out of bed to be surrounded by preppy white people with the expectation of her T-Birds and possibly the Pink Ladies. If Tina was going to make it through the day she was going to need a light. Placing the devil stick between her lips from her back pocket she pulls out a light, inhaling a long drag of her smoke. This school year would be the last chapter in her misery. Thank god, she thinks to herself watching as all the preppies jumped around exchanging summer stories. Tina didn’t need to even be standing ear shot to know their exciting summers “oh so exciting summers”. She plays their ringing tones in her head,”Oh I was on daddy’s yacht!” “Oh I let him kiss me” “Oh he saw an ankle, I’m so bad”- god even the thoughts of their voices here are annoying.

Most of her gang wasn’t even here yet. Typical. Kurt liked to make an entrance which was understandable. Sam was more than likely sleeping, Artie more than likely making his rounds with the “school inclusivity” bullshit and Brittany probably still thought it was summer. Thank fuck Tina knew how to stand on her own two feet. As she pushed herself off the wall, taking one last drag of her cigarette, she swore she caught sight of someone who looked a lot like Rachel. “R-Rachel,” she choked, clearing away the smoke from obscuring her vision. Tina dismissed it. What the hell was she smoking? Still, her heart beat a little bit faster. Her footsteps quickened so much to get inside school that she received a few odd looks from students and teachers. Slowing down, straightening her leather jacket, her eyes dart through the crowd for the brown haired beauty. Still summer dreaming… she had to be.

Skipping classes would be a rookie mistake for the first day or week. She sits in her classroom, half faking her attention as the guys all seem to fall asleep. Kurt’s eyes cut into her as if he was trying to work out what her deal was. Fuck, Tina needed to play it more cool. Slipping back into her seat, drumming a pencil against her deck. Hell she needed to get out of here. Fast.

Ditching the T-Birds, Tina needed another smoke. She remembered that she had a stash she kept in case of emergencies in her locker. Her “de-stress at school” treat, if you will. Some girls chose cake or exercise and she picked her cigarettes. As she slammed her locker with a huff feeling a tap on her shoulder. Fuck was she caught already?!? Shoving the packet into her pockets, putting on her best resting bitch pout and annoyed glare to play innocent. She turns on her heels when all of that melts away at the instant her eyes fall onto Rachel. “R-Rachel?!?” her voice higher than normally,”Wha-what, oh my gosh- you are here?”

RACHEL:

Rachel was almost breathless when Tina turned around. It had really been only a matter of weeks since they'd seen each other, but it felt like almost a lifetime. Seeing Tina again was... almost too much for words to describe. Like finally finding water after weeks in the desert. Everything about Tina just felt so familiar. The faint smell of leather and cigarettes, mixed with the soft scent of her shampoo, her stammering, her eyes... All Rachel wanted to do was hug Tina and wrap herself up in her.

But she couldn't. Not at school. She cleared her throat and gave her a little wave, which felt so very pathetic. "Hi. I am. My bubbe is sick so we had to move here to help take care of her," she said. Right, because talking about a sick grandmother was a great way to start a conversation. Way to go, Rachel. "Anyways, I'm here for the school year. I've missed you, Tina," she said with a smile, trying to take the yearning out of her voice. "We should have lunch together! Where do you normally sit?"

TINA:

Tina was stunned in the moment. Days had been so dreary and grey and only memories of the summer with Rachel had been a flicker of light. Even though Tina wanted to cast out that flame knowing that it was impossible for them to see each other again. When in actuality, everything was possible. Tina wants to touch her, to hug her...to do something to make sure that this was not some wonderful dream that her dumbass alarm would wake her up from again. Yet the fear to touch her creeps in for she could merely slip through her fingers or others would catch them looking a little too friendly. To Tina everything and everyone around them became a motionless blur, her attention fully fixated on Rachel.

There was a sweetness in her voice, so delicate and light.

She catches herself smiling, watching her lips more whilst she spoke. "Good!" Tina cheered a little too quickly, cutting herself off. "I mean not good about your- bubbe was it? Not good that she is sick, but you know good that you are here...here to look after her." Wait to sound so needy Tina, she kicks herself. "So you're here, for the final year?" She repeats even though Rachel just clarified that she was. Her voice lowered, feeling a slight flush in her cheek. "I missed you too, Rachel." She cleared her throat, trying to keep a composure of sorts. "Yes, yes we should!" Tina pursed her lips together. "I'm not really a....person who eats around people, really. Too many crowded tables you know?”

RACHEL:

Rachel hummed. "Thank you. She'll be okay. I think she just wanted my dad to move closer to her, honestly," she said with a chuckle. God, Tina was so cute. The slight flush in her cheeks only accentuated her face and made her look positively radiant. Rachel had to look elsewhere just to stop herself from blushing. And staring at Tina more. "Thank you, though. And yes, all year. I'm kind of excited for senior year and all that entails. I've been thinking about my prom forever," she admitted.

When Tina said she didn't usually sit in the cafeteria, Rachel tried not to let her smile waver. She knew Tina wasn't exactly a popular girl—she'd said so herself over the summer—but Rachel had hoped to at least get on the popular clique's radar. It's what she had done at her old school. Being part of the popular crowd meant that everyone loved her and didn't pay attention to her in any way that mattered. When it came to the popular crowd, it was all about what was on the surface, and that's what Rachel desperately needed. She'd already zeroed in on them, the cheerleaders and football players, and had hoped that sitting in the cafeteria would get at least one of them to pay attention to her.

But Tina was more important than all of that. She would sit wherever she wanted to today. She could start her mission another day.

"Of course, I understand. That's not a problem. We'll sit wherever you normally go," she told her, bumping their shoulders together. "And you can show me around school a little too. I almost got lost going to my English class earlier," she said, unable to stop the flush that came to her cheeks.

TINA:

"Seems like parents like to have control over your life even when you are a grown up," Tina jokes darkly referring to herself because this is what we call stuff that only Raven and Issy are aware of. Those grey thoughts slip away as Rachel is beaming brighter than ever, her tan still kissed from the sun. "There's no need to thank me, really." Tina brushes it off as if it were nothing. "I would kinda lower your expectations just a little bit. McKinley doesn't hold the greatest proms." She speaks from experience with gate crashing a few odd times, for the fun of it with the T Birds. Half the girls here always fantasized about prom: which boys would ask them, how they would wear their hair, if their flower thingy would match their dresses. Slightly dazed, Tina started thinking about Rachel in her prom dress. Regardless what she would or wouldn't wear, Rachel would look stunning.

Tina ran her hair through her hair. Boy, was it getting a little hot. Taking the leather jacket off was not an option, though. She had an aesthetic to uphold. Bumping her shoulder back she laughed. "Oh where I normally eat…” Oh shit that was with the guys, the ones she hadn't spoken to all summer. The ones who had noticed that she had been a little off. Bringing Rachel around them would be...not the greatest meeting. "Hmm, how about a walking lunch and tour—you know kinda like we did on the beach?" She suggests instead. "That way you'll know this place like the back of your hand."

RACHEL:

"I guess they do," Rachel said, nodding in agreement. She laughed. "Right, of course. I do believe that the prom is more of the experience of it. Getting ready with friends, the dancing, all of that. So even if the prom itself is less than great, there are still good memories to be made," she told Tina.

Her throat went a little dry when Tina ran her hand through her hair. It was such a simple movement but.... Tina made it look so good. And then Tina mentioned their walks on the beach and Rachel was almost right back there, reliving their summer adventures. "Sure, that sounds great! Are you sure your friends won't miss you?" she asked. Tina had told her a little bit about her friend group over the summer, the T-Birds as they called themselves. Rachel would be lying if she said she wasn't a little excited to meet them. They all sounded like such interesting characters.

TINA:

Tina smiles fondly thinking about how this year was meant to be the year of making memories. More memories that she could make with Rachel, now that they had more time to be together. Not together, together, but at least they were in the same town. Maybe Rachel would even make prom suck a little less. "At least being with the right people could make it fun. She allows her hair to tall into place shrugging a little thinking about her friends. "Hey, if they missed me as much they do, they can all wait a little longer to see me." Or she could wait a little longer to think of something to tell the T Birds. After all, they would get it. Yet there seemed to be a gleam in Rachel's eye wanting to meet her friends, she could be selfish and keep Rachel to herself for a little bit longer. "So whatcha snacking on?" She offers her arm...platonically because all the other girls did that too.

RACHEL:

Rachel smiled back at Tina. "Exactly. I think it's going to be a good year," she said. She nodded when Tina said her friends would wait for her and looked at her offered arm. Girls did that often, didn't they? It wouldn't seem out of the ordinary. Rachel had seen two of the cheerleaders doing the exact same thing that morning. Why then did it feel so different to think about doing the same with Tina? Plus they'd done the same thing a hundred times over the summer. Though the streets of San Francisco made one seem much more anonymous than one did in the halls of a small high school in Ohio. Rachel was overthinking it. It was just linking arms. No big deal. She slipped her arm through Tina's and started walking with her. "Oh, my dad made some knishes for my first day. We can share, if you'd like?" she offered, showing Tina her lunch bag. "Do you have anything for lunch?" she asked.

TINA:

A better year now that you are here Tina thought to herself with a smile. She had half expected this say to suck like the rest of the school would. Strange, how Rachel could easily change her tune. Feeling their arms link together, it felt like summer again apart from the school halls and people looking every now and then. Nahh, that is paranoia. When did she care what other people thought of her? She never did and was not going to begin to now. She passive aggressively didn't take the lunch her mother made as a protest for well, being a pain in her ass. As if on queue her stomach rumbles a little too loudly that maybe Rachel heard. "Your dad makes knishes?" she looks at it wide eyed losing her cool, "Um yeah if you wanna...Rach." She scratches the back of her head,"I kinda forgot my lunch at home."

RACHEL:

Rachel tried to ignore the flip in her stomach when Tina called her 'Rach.' She smiled when Tina asked about the knishes. "Yeah, he loves cooking. He always makes way too much, too, so I have more than enough to share," she promised. "It's so weird being here after everything you've told me about Lima and McKinley. Seeing it all for real. As much as I'm going to miss San Francisco, I am glad I ended up here," she told her. "What other classes do you have this afternoon? Hopefully we have something together. I have home ec and history," she asked.

TINA:

"You close with your dad?" Tina felt like she could ask her since they had pretty much spoken about a lot of personal things before. If she had crossed a line then she knew she could always smooth it out. "Got really lucky with your dad. Tell him he is an awesome cook for me. Even the smell is pretty nice." She meant the way Rachel smelt too, all sweet. Tina let out a breathy laugh, "I never thought I would see you in a shi- such a sucky place like here." Pausing she asks, "Think you'll ever go back ?" Not that she wanted her too, unless she could go too. Her mind drifty thinks to the scrambled bit of paper in her pocket," Pretty sure it is English and History. Or French?" Hopefully they would have more than history together.

RACHEL:

Rachel nodded. "We are close. He's raised me alone since I was a baby. He had help from friends, of course, but it's always been the two of us," she told Tina. It always hurt her when she had to talk about her family without mentioning Leroy and everything he'd done for her. He was just as much her father as Hiram was. She'd gotten used to it over the years, but it still stung. "I did get really lucky, though," she said, giving Tina a bright smile to cover up her slight sadness. "I will let him know. Though now he's always going to give me food to give to you, I hope you know," she teased and she pulled out a knish and handed it to Tina. She shrugged when Tina asked about San Francisco. "Maybe one day. But you know me, New York is where I need to be. I really feel like it's the place for me," she told her. "How about you? Have you thought more about what you want to do after high school?" She knew Tina had a lot of pressure from her parents to go to college, but she also knew that Tina didn't want that. She squealed when Tina said she had history with her. "Yay! I'm glad we'll see each other in at least one class," she said, squeezing Tina's arm.

TINA:

Tina grimaced a little knowing the sucky rep that comes from the prim and proper homes felt about 'non traditional families' being around in the area. The odd looks and whispers about the town with all the theories that came along with it. Hopefully, that would not be the case for Rachel otherwise Tina was going to be ruffling a few feathers around town. "Hey, that sounds like a way a family supposed to be: love, support and care." Must have been nice,"Yeah you did get really lucky and you should be happy." Tina knew not to press anything about her mom, that was a topic not really for the long time no see kinda chat. "Oh no I'm going to be fed with delicious food instead of toxic cafeteria food, oh no." She jokes around taking the knish from Rachel,"Thanks." Tina takes a bigger bite than she should chewing away as she listened to Rachel as she was dreaming out loud about New York,"Yeah New York would be great for you." then everything flipped on her where she swallowed thickly. "Oh that is easy, any but here and I'll be happy. Get a car and keep on driving without looking back." Something in her stomach flipped at the squeal Rachel let out, enjoying the squeeze on her arm. "Yeah I'm glad that we get to spend more time in class together." So History would be a class that Tina would be attending this year, better study up.

RACHEL:

Rachel could see a bit of... was it sadness? in Tina's face as Rachel spoke about her family. She knew Tina didn't have the same kind of home life Rachel did, but surely it couldn't be that bad? She chuckled at the joke. "Well, you will now be part of the Berrys' lunch time delivery service," she said with a smile. She was itching to ask Tina over for dinner, so she could meet her parents. She had a feeling Tina would enjoy it, and of course her dads had been asking her all summer to meet the girl she'd spent all summer with. Rachel trusted Tina, she did. But it was still risky. Maybe in a few weeks' time. "I like the sound of that. Just going wherever fate takes you. I've always had my whole life planned out but having that kind of freedom... I'm almost a little envious of you, Tina," she said. "Yes! And we can study together! It'll be great." Studying was important. That was the only reason Rachel suggested it. It had nothing to do with wanting to spend more time with Tina.

TINA:

"The Berry Lunch Bunch...sounds like it could be a group or something," Tina jokes, beaming a little more. No need to have a sinking feeling about her family. Everything was starting to look up and she was not going to allow her mood to ruin it. Just looking at Rachel made things feel lighter and happier already and she was going to stick with that. "Maybe I'm a little envious of you," Tina retorted, "What good is freedom if you don't know what you want to do with it? Maybe having a plan, having a dream to follow. That is kinda something to be envious about." Her voice lowers into a whisper for only Rachel to hear. Deep down it was true but what would Tina dream of? The life her father wanted was certainly not of that. "Oh god, studying. Yeah think I'm gonna need a lot of help with that. Be my tutor?" Although Rachel offered, well sorta cause they were now going to be study buddies, good old gal pal study buddies.

RACHEL:

"Sure, but when you don't have a set plan there's less of a chance for things to go wrong," Rachel admitted. "Like, there's always a chance I don't get into Juilliard, and then what good is my dream going to do me?" she told Tina. "But anyway. There's no reason for us to be envious of each other. I have a feeling we're both going to accomplish great things," she told Tina, squeezing her arm again. Tina still had that air of sadness and Rachel wanted nothing more than to make it go away. She grinned. "I would love to be your tutor, Tina! I used to tutor all the time at my old school. I've been told I'm quite good at it, too. If you need help in any other classes I would be happy to help there as well," she told her.

TINA:

“Juilliard will take you, just one look at you and they have too," Tina looks at her straight in the face. "Trust me I'm right about a lot of things and your dreams would be one of them. She looks down at Rachel's hand on her arm smiling even more,"To whatever the scary and shitty future holds." Today was full of feeling hopeful for things that seemed to look rather bleak. For it to be brighter, she would kinda need some passing grades to get out of here. "I'm gonna keep that in mind," Tina winks playfully,"You have no idea what you have just signed yourself up for Ms Berry."

RACHEL:

Rachel's throat went dry when Tina looked right at her. There was so much intensity in her gaze that it made Rachel believe everything she was saying. And it made Rachel want to get lost in Tina's eyes forever. "Thank you, Tina. That means a lot to hear you say that. Your dreams are going to come true too, whatever they may be," she told her. She giggled at Tina's last words and felt her cheeks flush. "I think that as long as it means we get to spend more time together, I'm okay with whatever I signed myself up for, Ms. Cohen-Chang," she replied. "Now give me a true tour of this campus because I still don't know where we are."

#para: i met a girl

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