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prettywordsyouleft · 3 years

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To Be Continued - Part 10

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

Word count: 2487

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

The broken laptop was taken by Sungjin that night, and he returned it to you a fortnight later with a new screen on it. Despite being grateful, you were still hopeless. “Brian’s gone for good, isn’t he?”

“Maybe it’s time for you to move on from him, Y/N. I hate seeing you this stuck. Don’t you want to write other stories and start living again?”

Staring up at the man, you nodded numbly. “I hoped I’d be living with him. I guess dreaming up the perfect guy isn’t a healthy thing to do.”

“It did happen, and your grief is validated,” he told you, giving your upper arm a gentle squeeze. “Everyone faces a loss of someone in their life at one point or another. And we have to learn how to continue on after they’re gone.”

“You’re right,” you murmured, smiling gently at Sungjin. “Thank you for being a good friend to me.”

“Officially friend-zoned,” Sungjin teased, dramatically grappling at his heart. You giggled, and this made him stop and smile. “And officially hearing a good sound come from you. I hope you can feel comfortable to laugh more often, Y/N.”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

“Now that you have your device back, how about you go and write something? I’m sure it’s been a long two weeks.”

You grinned at his statement, nodding along. “My desktop is so ancient. I was close to spending a lot of money on a new one.”

“Well, now you don’t have to. Off you go and write, Miss Writer.”

Your smile fell as soon as you shut the door, the friendly term Sungjin just called you only bringing up the moments where Brian had called you that time and time again. Counting to ten, you avoided crying for the first time over your loss and smiled.

“All I have to do is keep counting and writing,” you instructed, marching down to your office and plugged in the laptop. It fired up immediately, and the new screen was pristine. Thankfully, all of your work was backed up to an external so you didn’t have to worry about losing your work. It surprised you, however, that the computer remembered where it last was in your session, the end of the Eternity document appearing in front of you.

Reading over the paragraph you had sent Brian, you wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort. “You did well, Y/N. You waited for love, and you loved him like no other. This story’s over now, though. Let’s move on.”

Slowly, you deleted your message, making sure the document said The End and closed out of it, moving it to another storage space on your external hard-drive before opening a new document.

It was time to step out of the limbo you had endured for too long.

“Lily, did you get my first submission?” you asked as you continued to tap furiously at your keyboard, not bothering to check the expression of your editor on the small window in the corner of your screen.

“I did, and it’s fabulous.”

“Just fabulous?” you asked, scrunching your up face in annoyance. “I don’t think fabulous is enough.”

“Ooh, someone is feeling good about her work lately,” Lily crooned, and you grinned. “It’s good to see you working this happily again, Y/N.

“Well, the Encounter series is done now, and I need to have a follow-up story.”

“Does your favourite constable know about this?” she wondered dreamily, and you stopped typing to shoot Lily a look. “What? I distinctively remember you swooning over your protector. There’s no hope for you two to have a romance behind the scenes too?”

“Lily, I might be a writer who enjoys a good love story, but that’s all it remains as for me, a story. Sungjin is my friend, and I’ll surprise him with the final manuscript when this is done.”

“Yes boss!” she cheered and then gasped. “Oh, by the way! I heard that pre-order sales for Eternity have surpassed Captivated! When it launches in two week’s time, I’m certain you’re going to rank well!”

“And then that world will finally be at a close,” you murmured to yourself, Lily straining to hear what your lips had expressed. When you noticed her confusion, you smiled brightly. “Thanks for all your hard work over the past three years on this project, Lil.”

“You wrote them, Y/N. That world, especially Eternity, is a masterpiece.”

“Well, I hope the next story will be even better. More than fabulous, even.”

“You never let a single thing slide. I’ll sing your praises further when you send me the chapter you’re working on right now!”

“Onto it!” you said with a wave of goodbye, and the video call ended.

Slumping in your chair, your eyes shifted towards the wall calendar where the date had been circled for Eternity’s release.

You had taken Sungjin’s advice and picked yourself up out of the dumps. Of course, it hadn’t been easy, and still to this day you had moments where you yearned for Brian. However, you had remained strong since your initial resolve and left Eternity where it belonged – in your completed archive. You hadn’t sent messages, you didn’t open the document, and aside from when obligated to, you didn’t speak of that world to anyone. It still hurt too much, and you were looking forward to a time where this was all just a fond memory in your writing career.

Right now, with the impending sales and then signing tour that was booked, however, you were doing your best to distract yourself from anything that might make you cave.

Writing your police officer au was definitely helping with that, and you launched into typing again about Sungjin and Ella, you two protagonists.

You knew you probably should change his name, but the story made the most sense to you when you imagined your friend. Although you did wonder how you could separate the two when it came to the more romantic parts in the novel, you were having a lot of fun, remembering those juvenile feelings you once had for Sungjin before Brian stepped out of the laptop and changed your life entirely.

Sigh. You had thought of Brian again.

“When will I stop doing that?” you wondered in a sing-song voice, trying to keep upbeat. It was then that a new document popped up on the screen, and you groaned loudly. “And when will you stop glitching?”

It wasn’t the first time the new document tab would appear, now and then when you were in the midst of typing. You assumed you kept hitting the keyboard shortcut for opening it somehow and mentally wrote yourself a note to check if it could be disabled when you were done with this chapter.

Paying it no mind, you continued writing your story, not thinking once about all the mysterious happenings that preluded Brian’s appearance in the first place.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m meeting you today!” a young voice announced, and you smiled brightly at the teen before you. “I’m a big fan of Brian and Charli!”

“Aren’t we all?” you mentioned happily back, reaching for the copy of Eternity she had placed down to sign. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Jennie! With an i-e.”

“Well, Jennie, with an i-e, I’m so glad you came today. I hope to see you at my next book signing in a couple of year’s time.”

“You can count on it, Y/N!”

The day continued much in the same, and whilst you were overwhelmed by the support of your fans, when you entered your hotel for the evening, you were more than emotionally exhausted.

“Stupid Charli. She’s living the dream,” you muttered and then caught yourself, sighing heavily with your unexpected negativity.

It was foolish to be jealous, and yet after listening to everyone say how perfect Brian and Charli were for each other all day long, you understood your reaction. Even if you were moving on, you wanted to be the one who was perfect for Brian Kang.

“Let’s count to ten, shall we?” you told yourself, breathing deeply and following through with your mantra. After ordering room service for dinner, you settled into the plush bed with your laptop, ready to stream a crime show you had been watching for research.

When the screen appeared though, it was opened on Microsoft Word with a new document waiting for you. You groaned and looked into the settings to make sure you had in fact disabled the keyboard shortcut. It was as you had left it and you let out a small huff at the program before hovering your cursor over the exit button.

Something in you made you pause, however, and you peered at the empty document with some interest. “Why are you following me around?”

Thinking of how Brian would always open a new document to converse with you, a glimmer of hope surged through, and you hit the keys with a rapid pace.

Are you there, Brian Kang?

Nothing came, and your words didn’t dissolve either. Rolling your eyes at your rash reaction, you closed the document and opened Netflix.

You were well into the throes of the show when your room service knocked on the door, casting you out of bed and over to the door. Once you returned with the tray of food you had been given, you noticed the document was back on the screen again.

“What is going on?” you wondered, staring at it for some time. Placing a hand on the screen, you closed your eyes and willed Brian to come out. It had been so long since you had done this, and yet your fervour was stronger than ever. You prayed so hard that when you opened your eyes and saw nothing there, your tears were immediately at the surface, cascading down your cheeks.

“I’m so over pining for you. Either come back or leave me alone!” you wailed, pushing the laptop aside and curling up into a ball.

You didn’t see it then, but the cursor started to move as if someone was holding down the space button, creating ten pages before it stopped.

The tour ended, and you were all too grateful to wake up back home with Binks curled up beside you. Kissing your furbaby until he made it apparent that your affection was unwanted, you climbed out of bed to brew yourself some coffee.

Today, you felt free. The saga of Eternity was over and whilst you knew you would still have to do a couple more interviews here and there in the future where you would be asked about the series, and your Discord would still be hit up regularly about reviews over the final story in the trilogy, today you were at least free from the contractual sides of the story. You wouldn’t have to actively talk about Charli Evers and Brian Kang ever again.

You also hoped that one day, once your pain resolved enough, that you could reread the series and remember why you had loved it all along, instead of the jealousy and burden you felt towards it right now.

With coffee and toast held in either hand, you bounced off to your office and sat down at your desk, blinking when you found your laptop on your desk already.

Had you pulled it out of its bag last night when you got home?

Shrugging, you hit the power button and were surprised when it immediately loaded up your home screen. “I did turn you off, you finicky device.”

Lots of little things had happened since getting the screen fixed, and you had left it down to that incident messing with it. You didn’t have it in you to believe otherwise.

Opening your emails, you went through the important correspondence, threw out the spam, and moved the replied ones to their relevant folders. Once your inbox was empty, you moved onto your other admin tasks for the day, ensuring you were all caught up before you stepped back into your police officer au.

When ready, you clicked on the file, and instead of it appearing, it was a blank document. “Oh no, you don’t! There were words in this file!”

Looking at the title of the word document, you were relieved to see it untitled and not that of your current story. Clicking again on the file from your writing folder, another blank document appeared instead.

“Open it! I have to write about Sungjin and Ella!” you exclaimed, hitting the file repeatedly. Tens of blank documents appeared with your efforts until you were panting with the annoyance. Sitting back, you shook your head. “That’s it! I’m buying a new laptop! I’m done with you!”

Before you could close the screen down, however, you noticed that one document appeared and had words in it. But it wasn’t your current one. Instead, Encounter appeared on the screen, scrolling at a rapid rate to the bottom. Then it changed tabs, moving through Captivated just as fast. Finally, Eternity finished it off, the words The End simply staring back at you.

“…Brian?”

Leaning forward towards the screen, you waited to see what would happen next. Annoyed that your hopes were raised yet again, you started to close the empty tabs, leaving the three stories up. A final tab appeared, and you burst into tears as words started to appear on the screen.

It’s time to start writing our story now.

Standing up shakily, you pointed at the screen. “Hurry up then, I’ve waited far too long to write this story with you.”

The screen went blank as your heart began to thud erratically in your chest, your eyes widened whilst waiting for what would happen next. Reaching for the power button, you watched as the screen lit up.

And then you felt arms embrace you immediately. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“I don’t care right now,” you managed to say despite your emotions running down your face. Pulling back just enough so you could see Brian’s handsome face, you shook your head in disbelief. “As long as you’re here.”

“For good,” he assured, leaning in for a passionate kiss. “That world is closed and done with. Whilst ours is only beginning.”

You knew with time, you would want to know why it took so long for Brian to return and to scold him for hurting you so much. You also knew Brian would placate you in every way, and you would hear all about his equal longing and struggle without you at his side.

But for now, this was all you needed. Dream men were hard to find existing in real life. You had found yours again, and this time you wouldn’t write him in one way or another. You’d let your life together pen the journey you had at each other’s side.

Your story was about to be continued.

_________________

Epilogue

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heyyyharry · 4 years

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Chapter 14: To The Boy Next Door

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which they play a game.

Word count: 4.7k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

ANNOUNCEMENT: The last chapter was supposed to be released on July 1, BUT I have two final exams on that same week, so I’ll have no choice but to move the schedule forward.

Last My Girl update: July 8, 2020. (July 3: Tumblr preview and full chapter on Patreon).

One year later

“Come in.”

When Asher entered the room, Gemma almost didn’t recognize him. He’d got a beard now, and he wasn’t wearing a suit. If she hadn’t known the charming Asher in the past, she would be so shocked to find out he was the CEO’s son. Too bad she didn’t care enough to wonder what had happened to him after his business had gone bankrupt because his father had refused to finance it. Now he was just a regular accountant.

His eyes went wide when he saw her sitting with his dad in the CEO office.

Hello, Asher, she thought, yet gave him nothing but a polite nod as if they were meeting for the first time.

“Asher, I suppose you remember Gemma?” asked his father with a sigh.

“Yes,” Asher mumbled, his gaze falling to the floor.

Of course he remembered her. Abusers always remembered their victims.

His dad looked from him back to Gemma. Hands folded on the desk, he said, “Gemma is our new COO. I hope you will have no trouble working for her.”

Asher’s head jerked up as if he’d just heard a gunshot. And Gemma, of course, was the one holding the gun.

She relished his astonishment and cracked a smile as she rose from her seat and walked toward him. She extended her hand, but he didn’t take it.

“Working for her?” he asked his dad, who replied with a stern expression.

“Yes. She’s your new boss.”

Gemma broke into a smirk, still holding out her hand in the space between them. Asher’s eyes had grown so big they nearly took over his entire face. “You,” he hissed at her, “I can't believe you weaselled your way into this company.”

“Oh, no.” Gemma frowned pretentiously and dropped her hand down to her side. “I’ve been a shareholder for almost a year. I’ve done more for this company in that short amount of time than you have your whole life.”

He thinned his lips and glared at her, unable to muster a single word.

She hated him but respected his father. And what was better as revenge than making sure she took everything he wanted? First, his father’s affection. Soon, his father’s company.

“I don’t want to make this unpleasant for you, Asher,” her voice dropped so low as she leaned in so only the two of them could hear. “Or maybe I do. So you better be a nice employee, because I wouldn't be sorry to kick you out of here.”

His face dimmed as she stepped away. If there was a camera, she’d take a picture and put it in a frame. Though she doubted this would be the last time she got to see that defeated look on his face.

"See you around, Ash," she said, placing a hand on her hip as she breezed right past him out of the room.

Two interns, a blonde and a dark-skinned girl, rose from their cubicles and rushed up to her as she was heading for the lift.

“Excuse me,” the blonde said timidly. “Are you...our new COO?”

“Y-Yes, yes, I am.” Gemma worked up a smile and the girls giggled to each other like teenagers.

“Congratulations and welcome!” said the dark-skinned one, who said her name was Marie and her friend was Claria. Gemma assumed they were going to fangirl about her brother, but then Marie said, “We love your sister-in-law’s book. We’re such big big fans.”

It took Gemma a second. “Y/N? She and Harry aren’t–”

“Future sister-in-law,” Claria corrected her friend, looking nervously from Marie back to Gemma. “We’ve...heard some rumours. Can you confirm or deny it?”

“I cannot. But I’ll let her know about you girls.”

The girls grinned like the Cheshire Cat, and Gemma could tell they were trying their best not to freak out. She waved them goodbye and hastened into the lift before the door closed.

Her phone buzzed with a new text.

Isey: Lunch? :)

Lunch :) she replied, biting back a grin.

Another notification popped up. A reply from Harry's girl. Gemma rolled her eyes as she remembered lending Harry her phone a couple of weeks ago. He'd changed most names in her contacts and she'd only managed to change back a few of them.

Harry's girl: Thanks for the birthday wish, Gem! (heart emoji)

You're welcome! Is Harry coming home today?

Harry's girl: I hope not. But idk.

We never know. How can you STAND him? Ugh.

Harry's girl: I can't lol.

Harry's girl: Anyway, what was his reaction?

Gemma knew right away whom Y/N was talking about.

Priceless, she responded.

Harry's girl: QUEEN. Make his life a living hell.

Oh I will. Certainly.

The door slid open with a ding, and Gemma tucked the phone into her bag. Her assistant was waiting outside to direct her to her new office. With a smile on her face, she stepped out of the lift and shook the assistant's hand.

She was so ready for this new beginning.

“Good aaaaaafternoon, girlfriend! Are you feeling twenty-two?”

Y/N laughed hoarsely as she blinked a few times to let her vision get used to the light from the windows opposite the bed. “You’re embarrassing,” she said, yawning.

On the phone, Harry gasped. “Did you just wake up?!”

“I stayed up all night talking to you and had a zoom meeting with Laura this morning. Besides, it’s Sunday.”

“It’s your birthday.”

“Duh.” She grinned at the ceiling and exhaled. “I’m twenty-two now. I’m like...old.”

“Ouch. Well, aren’t you supposed to get ready for the book signing?”

“Book signing is tomorrow. Bad boyfriend.”

The sound of his laugh made her heart leap. She missed him so much. He’d been in New York for two weeks and wouldn’t be back until next Thursday, which meant she’d have to spend this birthday without him. She wasn’t sure if she should let him know she wished he were here. She really did. But she also didn’t want him to drop everything and fly back to her for only one night. He’d done that before and it'd been romantic, still, she never wanted him to do it again.

“To prove that I’m not a bad boyfriend,” he said, snapping her back to the moment. “I have a surprise for you.”

She sat up straight and whipped her head to the door. “Goddamn it, Harry,” she huffed, “if you tell me you’re standing right outside–”

“No!” He burst out laughing. “No, no, no, I’m still in New York.”

She sighed in relief, but couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed.

“My surprise is in the pocket of my favourite suit,” he said.

She had no idea what he might have up his sleeves (quite literally). Still, she rolled out of bed, shoved her feet into her slippers, and padded out of the room.

Two years ago on this same day, he’d brought her to the roof of an abandoned building, where they’d watched the night city and eaten his homemade cupcakes. On her twenty-first birthday, they hadn’t been talking. And so this year, she’d suspected that he must have planned something extravagant to surprise her, even though he wasn’t home to celebrate with her. The surprise had come a bit earlier than expected.

She switched on the light in the walk-in closet, which was as large as her old flat. His favourite suit was the one he’d worn on Grammy’s night. Sparkling dark velvet to match the aesthetic of her silvery mermaid gown, which, unfortunately, she hadn’t got a chance to show off to the world.

She stuck her hand into the breast pocket of the jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Found it."

“Go on. Read it,” he encouraged.

“If it says ‘Happy Birthday, smiley face’, I’ll strangle you when you come back.”

A laugh burst right through him. “Your choking kink is getting out of hand, babe.”

“Shut up.” She huffed, unfolding the note. “Should have said I loved you,” she read aloud. “What does that mean?”

“You can ask for my help only once. Call me when you’ve found the fifth clue.”

“Wait!”

But he’d already hung up.

She almost called him back but then decided not to. She didn't want to waste her only chance to ask for help.

Classic treasure hunt, she thought, rereading the sentence.

The prize would be her birthday present for sure. Maybe he’d hidden it in the wood somewhere. A normal boyfriend would just have the birthday present delivered, or leave it on the table or in the garage, not challenge his girlfriend’s two only active brain cells with a children’s game. But Y/N wasn’t a normal girlfriend. And as much as she hated working for something other than her writing, a part of her was excited.

“Should have said I loved you,” she thought out loud, then snapped her fingers and rushed across the hallway to his library.

Two years ago, she’d told him she’d loved him for the first time and received silence in return. In this very room, he’d watched her leave.

She stood in front of the giant bookcase, which he’d had installed a month after she’d officially moved in. Most of these books were from her collection. On a shelf in the middle stood three framed photos of them. Them in Paris. Them with their families on a vacation last summer. Them at her graduation.

She flipped each frame over to check the back, but none had what she was looking for. She tapped her foot impatiently on the carpet while assessing the rest of the bookcase. It didn’t take her too long to notice that one book was upside down.

P.S. I Love You by Cecelia Ahern.

Of course. Of-fucking-course.

She rolled her eyes, feeling a smile stretching her lips as she took the book from the shelf and opened it to the first page. There was a post-it note that said:

Congrats, babe. You’ve found it. Next clue: Where the magic happens ;)

‘Where the magic happens.’ If it wasn’t sexual, the winky face had made sure that it was.

Could it be their bed? Nope. She'd slept there last night.

Could it be the first place they’d had sex?

Could the next clue be inside that car?

She jolted with a start and dashed out of the library, and as soon as she reached the stairs, she suddenly halted.

No. She didn’t remember which car they’d had sex in for the first time, and he’d got a whole collection of cars. It’d take forever to search every single one. That wasn’t the right answer.

Sighing, she stood on the first stair and contemplated the clue again.

They used to play Treasure Hunt when they were younger. There were usually at least five or six clues, and the first three should be easy.

Could it be her flat? Most of their ‘secret relationship’ had happened in her flat. It used to be their secret kingdom. Impenetrable. Disconnected to the outside world. They’d also had their second real kiss outside her door, and she still had until the end of this month before she must return the keys to the landlord.

She wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t going to drive all the way there just to find out she was wrong.

And so she decided to call him.

“Let me guess,” he said as soon as the beeping stopped. “You’re either super impatient or your fairy godmother appeared and helped you find all five clues.”

She rolled her eyes. “Third clue. Is it your car or my flat?”

“My car?” He sounded confused, which gave her the impression that she might have got it wrong.

Her cheeks burnt as she said, “We had sex for the first time in your car.”

“No, not my car, but damn, I should have thought of that.”

“So it’s my flat?”

“Are you sure you want to ask me now?”

“Yes.”

“Yes,” he smugly confirmed. “It’s your flat. Now you’re on your own until the final clue.”

“Fuck,” she grunted and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I thought you’d have trouble with this one, too. I mean, we fuck everywhere these days.”

“If my birthday present isn’t worth all this, we won’t be fucking ever again.”

He gasped at the threat, and she could picture him wearing that stupid crooked smile as he told her, “Good luck, kid. I believe in you.”

She found the next clue on Thumper’s lap.

When she’d moved most of her furniture to Harry’s house, she’d forgotten to take the purple stuffed bunny with her. She held it under her arm and scrutinized the pink post-it note, which said:

I cannot believe you left Thumper behind. Third clue: Drunk little deer.

“Drunk little deer? What does that even mean?” Then she looked at Thumper. “Should I kick him in the balls when I see him?”

She made the rabbit nod and burst out laughing at how crazy she sounded. If anyone walked in and saw her talking to a stuffed animal, they would assume she was either crazy or drunk.

Drunk.

She was the drunk little deer. Drunk Bambi.

The answer was the place he'd seen her drunk for the first time.

Andrew recognized Y/N right from the moment she stepped into the pub. He leaned over the counter and shouted for everyone to hear, “Little girl! Good to see you again!”

“Andrew," she smiled and shouldered her way towards the bar.

He eyed her up and down as she slid onto one of the stools. “You look different. I hope you’re not here to drink again. I might have to kick you out.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You look different, too. I like your new hair.”

Andrew rubbed his shiny bald head, scowling at her as she raised a smile and rested her chin on her knuckles. Andrew might look intimidating, especially now without his hair, but he was one of the softest people she’d ever met. He’d been so kind to her during her tough times and even let her haunt his pub day and night until Harry had come for the rescue.

“You’re kind of famous now, aren’t you?” Andrew said. “I’ve read your book. It didn’t suck.”

“You have?”

He lifted one giant shoulder of his, pursing his lips. “My wife made me. She's a big fan. Your boyfriend came two weeks ago and he even signed the book for her. He said he was the one in the story.”

“My boyfriend was here?”

Andrew gave a nod.

The voices in Y/N's head started cheering like she’d just won a wrestling match. It would have been so embarrassing if she'd asked Andrew first and then found out she'd got it wrong.

“Well, did he leave...something for me? A message perhaps?”

Andrew growled as he turned away, and without a word, disappeared through a stained curtain behind him. He came back five minutes later and handed her a green post-it note with an unreadable grimace on his face.

She snatched it immediately. A laugh crackled out of her as if he’d just given her gold.

Hi babe, you’re almost there! My biggest fans (not you) have the final clue. Get back to work.

“He gave this to me when he signed the book,” Andrew said.

Y/N mumbled the words over as she tried to figure them out. Her first guess for ‘biggest fans (not you)’was Gemma and Isaac. But then she got rid of the idea because they had to be at the same place at the same time in order for this to work, and Gem and Isaac were both at work.

Which two people were together right now and were also Harry’s biggest fans?

‘Get back to work.’

Yes. That’s it!

Y/N thrust the post-it note into her bag and rose from the stool. “I’m sorry. This must be weird to you.”

“It’s quite romantic, actually," Andrew said.

“Really?”

“And weird. You two are both weird. What a perfect couple.”

“Gee, thanks.”

As she spun on her heels, Andrew called after her, “Hey, little girl. I’m sorry I said you weren’t a real writer.”

“You said that?”

“You were drunk,” he chuckled. “Anyway, bring your weird boyfriend back sometimes.”

“I will. If there’s free beer.”

“Get out of here.” He shot his finger toward the door, but it was the first time she’d seen Andrew smile with his whole face.

Eddie’s bookshop was busy on most Sundays. Well, it had been busy almost every day since Y/N had credited him in her latest best-selling debut novel.

She entered the shop and was immediately recognized by a group of schoolgirls, who asked her to sign their new copies of her book and questioned her about the story. She recycled the same amiable answers that didn’t give away any more than what they might already know. Since she’d already got used to the attention, the fans didn’t intimidate her anymore.

She took a selfie with the girls and bid them goodbye. Then one of the new employees told her that Eddie and Alice were sorting books at the back. She wandered along aisles until she found them. Eddie was scolding Alice for putting hardcovers in between paperbacks. Nothing got on Eddie’s nerves as much as putting hardcovers in between paperbacks.

“The hardcovers take more shelf-space so you cannot put them there! God, Alice, were you drunk when you were sorting these books?”

“I wish I were drunk now,” Alice said, and her eyes lit up as she saw Y/N. She nearly tackled Y/N to the floor with a violent hug, and Y/N returned with half as much enthusiasm.

“You’re like a Golden Retriever,” Y/N said, pulling back and cupping her friend’s face.

“Happy birthday! I was gonna send you–”

Eddie didn’t wait for Alice to finish as he pushed her aside to step forward, his face brightened like the sun. “You’re here for the clue, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I–”

“We can’t just hand it to you.” That sun-like face suddenly turned serious. “You need a password. What is Harry’s favourite book?”

Y/N arched an eyebrow at Eddie as if expecting him to say ‘gotcha!’ But he only mirrored her expression as he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for an answer.

“Seriously?” Y/N scoffed, looking at her two friends. “He’s that narcissistic?”

Alice smirked as she raised a shoulder. “Either you answer or search this entire bookshop yourself.”

“I fucking hate him and I fucking hate both of you.” Y/N rolled her eyes upward and exhaled sharply. “Norwegian Wood.”

“Huh?”

“That’s his favourite book,” she told Alice and remembered Alice didn’t read fiction unless it was compulsory. “Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami.”

Eddie looked confused. “He loves Haruki Murakami? His books are misogynistic.”

“Harry’s got a bad taste in authors. But judging from your reactions, I suppose that is not the correct answer, and I should probably break up with my boyfriend because I don’t know what his favourite book is.”

“You do, Y/N.” Alice beamed as she leaned a shoulder against the bookcase. “You’re thinking too big. It’s pretty simple.”

“Shit. Is it my book?” Y/N asked, then pinched the bridge of her nose as Eddie began to smile. “Goddamn it, he’s like my dad times ten.”

“What did your dad do?” Eddie asked.

“He bought a bunch of copies of my book and sent them to our relatives for Christmas. It was pretty embarrassing.”

“Aww.”

“ALICE!”

“Jesus Christ!” Alice covered her ears as she shot Eddie a glare. “I’m standing right next to you.”

“Go get the clue!” Eddie flicked his fingers at her. “Go! Hurry!”

Alice rolled her eyes and flipped him off as she backed out of the aisle. Eddie ignored her and turned back to Y/N, grinning from ear to ear like he was the birthday girl. “Are you excited?”

“Not as much as you are. That’s for sure,” Y/N said and made sure he knew she was joking by giving him a toothy grin.

“I’m not gonna tell you what the surprise is, you know.”

“I’m not asking.”

Eddie’s laugh was high as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “What I can tell you is that you’re gonna love it. Too bad I cannot be there to see your reaction.”

“Trust me,” she said. “You don’t wanna see me scold Harry through the phone.”

Alice returned with a copy of My Girl and handed it to Y/N with a smile that possibly meant, ‘You’re gonna love this’.

Suspicious and somewhat elated, Y/N opened the book to the dedication page.

To Mum, Dad, and the boy next door.

Those were her words. Below was his handwriting: Hi my love :)

Curious, she turned to the first chapter. This wasn’t just another copy of her book, of which she’d got all the different covers at home. With this one, Harry had done the same thing he’d done to her journal. His handwriting was scattered across the pages. He’d underlined all the quotes he’d enjoyed and left comments about them on the side.

Y/N heard Eddie say something about how he would never write in books and Alice immediately shush him for being rude. Y/N never wrote in books, either, but she loved reading Harry’s handwritten notes. It felt like he was reading the story with her. The butterflies in her stomach went wild just from imagining him taking his time writing on each page and grinning at his own jokes. If this was the birthday surprise, she could not ask for anything more.

However, she knew he had to be more extra than this.

And there it was. Proof that this was not the surprise. On the very last page, he wrote:

Meet me where the sky meets the earth.

“Where the sky meets the earth?” she thought out loud and glanced up at Eddie, who responded with a shrug. Alice did, too. Y/N didn’t think they were lying. Harry must have told them what the surprise was, but not the answers to these cryptic messages.

Eddie patted her on the back as he wished her good luck and shooed Alice back to the front to assist the customers. Y/N was left behind to work it out on her own. She leaned against the bookcase, pondering over the words.

Hadn’t Harry said she was allowed to call him when she reached the fifth clue?

She tucked the book under her arm and pulled out the phone from the pocket of her jeans.

“Hi, babe!”

“I’ve got the fifth clue,” she blurted. “What do I do now?”

“I don’t know. Solve it?”

“Yes, smartarse. The answer is, I don’t know.”

“You’re not even thinking.”

“You said you’d help me!”

“I said I’d help you once,” he countered. “And I did. I told you to call me just so I know when you’ve reached the final clue.”

“So you’re not gonna help me with this one?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Well, I can give you a hint. What do all the places you’ve visited today have in common?”

She chewed on her lip, an arm folded over her chest. “They’re memories,” she whispered.

“That’s right,” he whispered back, like they didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation. “This last place is a memory as well. Where the sky meets the earth. Think, kid.”

She pouted. “Can I please get another hint?”

“You don’t get to talk in a cute voice and manipulate me, Bambi,” he sighed. “Fine. Our first date.”

“Holmes Chapel?!”

He said nothing and hung up.

It took Y/N a few seconds, but she believed she’d got the answer.

She took the lift and climbed four sets of stairs to the roof.

Adrenaline buzzed right through her, causing her hands to shake and her heart to pound against her ribcage. The metal was cold against her fingertips as she pawed the heavy door open slowly. It was unlocked.

The cold wind gushed in, blowing her hair out of her face as she stepped into the night. The city of London gleamed before her eyes. Where the sky meets the earth. This was where they could see stars high above and down below.

And there he was. Waiting for her with that smug crooked grin on his stupid face.

“Hi,” he said.

Oh, how she’d missed his stupid beautiful face.

She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket and ambled forward, still thinking him being here was too good to be true.

He lifted both hands like a surrendered criminal, both eyebrows raised as he said, “Before you get angry, I can explain.”

“Please do,” she demanded but found herself smiling.

With the wind in his hair, dimples on his cheeks and city light in his eyes, he looked absolutely breathtaking. She couldn’t hate him even if she tried.

Harry exhaled unsteadily through his mouth before mumbling, “Here I go,” and then he was on his knee in front of her.

She didn’t react when he took her cold hand and pressed it against his warm chest. She could feel his heart beating almost in sync with her own.

“Are you surprised?” he asked, chuckling nervously.

She exhaled a quiet laugh and said, “Yes, but also no.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Because I warned you this would happen?”

“Because you warned me this would happen.” Her mouth curved at the corner as she recalled the Oscar night in his LA house, both of them drunk, him on his knee like this, a promise, and how in love she’d felt, almost as much as she did in this very moment.

“Is this too early or too late?” he ventured.

“This is perfect.”

She pressed her lips into a smile, and his green eyes flickered in the semi-darkness. “Well then.” He straightened his back. “Y/N ‘Bambi’ Y/L/N.”

“Yes.” Her voice was so brittle she feared he wouldn’t hear it, her stomach twisted into triple knots, her chest fluttering and her fingers trembling.

He held her gaze as the corner of his mouth arched. “Will you…”

“I swear to God if you’re jok–”

“Marry me,” he blurted, panting as though saying those words had drained all the energy out of him. “Marry me. I want to annoy you for the rest of my life. I want every fight, every laugh, every up and down, every kiss, every touch, everything about you. I will love you until all my teeth fall out, until you finally learn to cook–”

“I’ll never learn to cook.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “Most importantly, I’ll even let you love young Leo a bit more than me, but only sometimes.”

She covered her mouth. What meant to be a laugh came out as a sob.

“I would have written a speech, but I figured you’d roast me for my bad writing, so I’d rather improvise and blame this awful proposal on it being improvised.”

“God, you’re fucking annoying,” she laughed tearily into her hand and he was laughing, too.

Quickly, he got to his feet and tugged her into him. She circled her arms around his waist, her face buried into his chest as she inhaled the scent she’d missed achingly in the last two weeks.

“My girl is such a crybaby,” he said, kissing the top of her head, her temple, her ear, her cheek, her forehead. He kissed and held her until she’d calmed down.

“Yes,” she told him at last, lifting her eyes up to his.

“Yes, you’re a crybaby?”

“Yes, you’re a dumbarse and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life roasting you and yes, I’ll sometimes love young Leo more than you but only sometimes, because you’re the greatest love of my life and I cannot imagine a life without you–”

He stopped her with his lips, his hands tenderly cupping her face as his thumbs moved slowly over her chin, cheeks and jawlines. She’d imagined that their first kiss after two weeks apart would be sexually aggressive and against-the-wall hot, but this kiss was slow and sensual and passionate and full of wanting. It felt like his promise for their future together. One that would last.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles series #my girl series

193 notes · View notes

puddygeeks · 3 years

Text

𝑊𝑎𝑟 𝑂𝑓 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 - 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠, 𝑆𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑒𝑖𝑑 𝑥 𝑂𝐶 - 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 1 : 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑜

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: 𝐴𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝐴𝑈 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦, 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡.

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Status: Ongoing

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 & 𝑠𝑒𝑥𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝐴𝑈'𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘. 𝐼𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑, 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤.

Eᴘɪsᴏᴅᴇ: Pʀᴇ Sᴇᴀsᴏɴ 1

Chapter One

The smell of stale coffee was overpowering, almost more so than the lack of daylight in the room. Overworking was common practice here and as such, caffeine addiction was deeply ingrained into our culture. I was relieved to have my own office to allow me to focus away from the highly strung teams that depended on me. Topping up my teacup from the pot, I continued to scan my eyes through the various databases in search of something to provide us with a lead.

My eyelids were heavy from exhaustion as I battled to hold my concentration and almost jumped out of my chair as a shrill phone rang from the back of the desk. It was a secure line that I’d set up a while ago, but seldom ever used and I quickly got to my feet to close the door before picking up the handset.

“Wonderland.” The careful voice announced a code that prompted a smile to fill my lips and I was immediately flooded with a warm sense of appreciation as I recognised them.

“Well, it’s been some time since I heard that.” I muttered curtly, settling back into my seat and a small satisfied sound on the other end of the line seemed to indicate that she was relieved to have confirmed my identity. “You’re certainly working late, aren’t you?”

“You know how it is. Monsters to catch.” Penelope sighed, allowing me the chance to catch the fatigue in her voice that likely would have been easily missed by anyone else. “Speaking of which, I have a problem.” She confessed, causing me to lean forward with riveted interest.

“We’ve got one of your boys causing mayhem over here. Your agents are keeping suspiciously schtum on it, territorial as ever. My team wants to stick with the case. I can’t ask for official permission to access Interpol files when we’ve been told to drop it, but if I could just get five minutes in the system…” She trailed off suggestively and I chuckled lightly to myself.

“You’re losing your touch, My Queen. I would have expected you to have found your way in already.” I teased, referring to the name that I’d once known her by as I set to work on bringing up the files of the case. I didn’t need specifics to clarify, I knew exactly which criminal my team was after that had required them to fly to the States to investigate and I heard her sigh.

“Any other time, you know that I would hack first and deny knowledge later, but I can’t plead ignorance on something that we’ve already been clearly told to stay away from.” She groaned, her frustration obvious even over the phone and I began typing rapidly as a plan formulated in my mind.

“I can’t allow access to a foreign agency, my dear. The other techs would rat me out before you’d even found anything.” I explained, chewing on my lip as I entered line after line of code in an attempt to outsmart my colleagues with techniques that would never be used in an official capacity. “However, if a back door was accidentally left open during maintenance, I couldn’t be held responsible for anything that might creep in.” I thought aloud as I sped through screens with a wicked smile, knowing that I could easily avoid any blame this way.

“I’ve assigned all of the correct credentials. Anything that you access will appear as if it’s me doing admin in the case, but be careful. It’s a very limited disguise that won’t last long if anyone starts to dig at it. I can keep our techs busy for a little while, but you know that subtly isn’t my strong suit. Get out before you’re noticed.” I instructed as I entered the last few commands and could already hear her making preparations for the task.

“Oh, sweetheart. I will be gone before they even know what hit them.” She breezed, her voice filled with a confidence that was contagious and I took a deep breath as I allowed it to pass onto me.

“Launching now.” I confirmed, as I entered the final key and my screen began filling with pages of data. “Make it worthwhile. Catch the bastard.”

--⥈--

“You think it’s an inside agent?”

My sector chief stared me down with an intensely disbelieving expression and I struggled to keep my nervousness from showing. It was incredibly nerve wracking to suggest this in a team where I was already the odd one out, but I couldn’t allow my own insecurities to prevent us from getting justice. Ever since I had started here, I’d had the deep rooted feeling that none of my colleagues approved of the decision to recruit someone who should have been arrested and the disdain always seemed most powerful when addressing the man before me.

“That is my belief, Sir.” I answered, hoping that he wouldn’t notice my false confidence and I forced myself to hold his gaze as he crossed his arms. “Valeno has successfully dodged every digital trap that I’ve laid. He’s avoided multiple agencies now and essentially vanished without a trace. It wouldn’t be possible to achieve that without inside knowledge of the measures that we are taking.” I explained, carefully presenting my theory and he remained unmoved as he studied me, causing me to gulp in discomfort.

“Find me proof, Hawthorne. I can’t call a witch hunt based on your bitterness against this team.” Shepard responded coldly, turning his back on me without another word to take a seat at his desk and I gulped down the anger that I felt at this unfair accusation. When I remained rooted to the spot in confusion, he simply gestured for me to show myself out.

I stomped back to my office with my cheeks burning in humiliation and closed the door behind me so that I could sink down against it with my face in my hands. It was endlessly frustrating to have invested so much time into pursuing this trafficking ring, only to have them continuously avoid capture. I was exhausted by this case, unable to remember my last day off since I was assigned to it and I could feel that I was running out of ideas, as I faced a heart breaking lack of support.

A loud alert on my computer pulled me from my wallowing and I rushed into my seat with interest. Flashing on my screen was a warning that made my stomach lurch and I stared at it with wide eyes. After months of silence, someone had finally accessed one of the booby trapped files.

I jumped into action, entering commands at lightning speed and became determined to capture whomever it was that had been defeating me for many long months. They were quick, evading my tactics with ease and I found myself engaged in a maddening game of digital hide and seek in the various systems. It was immediately clear that I was dealing with a professional and I cursed under my breath as I strained to keep up with them, setting fresh traps as I worked in the hope of preventing their escape.

“Oh no you don’t, you little bugger! Not today!” I hissed under my breath, feeling sweet on my brow as I fretted that one wrong move could lose them forever.

As I watched them evade my tracking, then jump straight into blocking me out with expert knowledge, a memory stirred in the back of my mind. The theory rapidly took hold and I wasted no time in throwing out a manoeuvre that I knew would cause a bolt of familiarity if the culprit was who I suspected. Barely moments later, my screen fizzled in error, before displaying a bizarre Tetris overlay that could only be the signature of one person and I gasped, reaching for the phone in a fluster. I could hardly dial the number properly with my shaking hands and stumbled over my words as they answered hurriedly.

“Tell me that you’re the person flooding my system with Tetris right now!” I spat, cutting her off before she could even speak and I heard the noisy typing on the other end rapidly stop.

“I knew it! You’re the only hacker I know that would use Alice in Wonderland riddles to throw me off!” Penelope gasped with excitement and I released a breath that I didn’t even know I had been holding in relief. It had been almost six months since I last heard her voice and although I would usually be pleased to speak to her, I couldn’t help a wave of disappointment at the realisation that I hadn’t caught anyone connected to the case.

“Well done, Reid! I just almost hacked our best chance of cracking your sicko lady thief. Thank god for your crazy book memory.” I heard her chatting to someone in the background and cleared my throat to regain her attention.

“I’d recognise those moves anywhere. You’re the only person that aggressive in code. What are you doing in my case?” I asked, rubbing at my temples in confusion and though I could hear someone barraging her with questions about who she was talking to, she remained obediently focused on me.

“Your case? I’m researching an abduction for the team.” She revealed, sounding as if she hadn’t even realised what was happening yet and I felt my eyes widen in horror. “Wait a second. Interpol is on this?” She breathed, causing sounds of shock to echo from whoever was in her background and I leapt to my feet as my thoughts bounced around in my mind.

“Penelope, I need you to send me everything you have. Right now! I think you’ve got a much bigger problem on your hands than you even know.” I ordered, flicking through the case files that covered my desk in a fluster and without a moment of hesitation, the details began to pop up on my screen. As I acknowledged the matching signature to the photos on my desk, I held a hand to my mouth in shock.

“Valeno.” I whispered as adrenaline shot through my entire body and I grabbed my phone as I began marching through the halls of the office. “Get your Unit Chief ready for a call. I’m taking this to the chief now.” I instructed, before hanging up and striding confidently back toward the office that I’d been so rudely dismissed from a short while ago.

Without awaiting permission, I barged inside and switched on the monitor on the wall. I flicked it to the channel that connected to my station and displayed the crime scene photos that were sent by Penelope. At first, Shepard seemed irritated by the brashness of my approach, but as I flicked through the photos with a determined energy, understanding dawned on his features.

“Look familiar?” I suggested, before spreading the case files out on the table to further explain my point. “Every single detail, exactly the same. Matching victimology, no forensics detected at the scene, no ransom. He’s back.” I insisted, pointing out each fact with a passion that I had rarely allowed to show since I joined this role and he stared up at the screen with conviction.

“Where?”

“Virginia, United States. It’s just like I said. He’s trying to hop jurisdiction to exploit the black spots between agencies and avoid detection.” I explained, feeling equally validated and frustrated that my theory had been correct. This meant that more lives had been destroyed by this man and the realisation caused a wave of nausea to wash over me.

“Sir, the FBI are late to this. They’re only just linking the abductions together. We could get ahead of him this time, if we assisted.” I appealed, holding my hands out in exasperation and he finally tore his eyes from the screen to examine me with an unreadable face.

“You have contact with the team?” He enquired curiously and I nodded in confirmation.

“Yes, Sir. Their Unit Chief is waiting for your call.” I presented, afraid to move a single muscle for risk of damaging the fragile alliance and after a few minutes of tense silence, he finally sighed.

“Set up the meeting through Lucy.” He instructed, causing me to almost run from the room to find our case coordinator, before he called out to stop me.

“If they accept our support, we’ll be heading over to join the team.” He stated calmly and I held my breath as I paused on the spot. “You know his patterns better than anyone. You think you can catch this mole?”

“Yes, Sir.” I asserted, the words escaping my lips before I’d even had the chance to consider them and for the first time, he softened his expression as he viewed me.

“Then you’d better get ready to travel. You’ll be joining us.”

--⥈--

There was something awfully intimidating about entering the FBI headquarters, despite my own professional background. I hesitated at the back of the team, unsure about the etiquette of these kinds of scenarios as I’d never worked on a shared agency case in person, unlike the others. My skills were shared between multiple Interpol teams and as a result, I didn’t have a bond with anyone, especially not in the group that I’d travelled with.

The rest of the agents seemed completely at home as they stepped out of the elevator and made a beeline for the main BAU office, whilst I slowed to a stop in the reception, feeling too overwhelmed to continue.

Everything felt immensely bigger than I was used to and the entire process had been so rushed that I’d hardly had a chance to process any of it. This was my first visit to the States at all in many years and I couldn’t catch up with the emotional effect of this. I brushed the hair that had escaped my scruffy braid out of my face and attempted to straighten out my clothes, convinced that I appeared completely haggard after being made to attend the office straight from a long flight.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to push open the glass doors to join my team, only to be ambushed before I could.

“Wonderland!” An excitable voice cheered from my side and I turned to find a very colourful woman with a huge mane of bright blonde hair barrelling toward me.

“Penelope Von Troublemaker.” I chuckled as she swept me into a hug that almost knocked me from my already unsteady feet. She smelt fruity and fresh as she squeezed the life out of me and I wheezed for breath.

“It’s wonderful to see you at last, but I really do need to breathe, my dear.” I wheezed, prompting her to quickly jump back, leaving only her hands on my shoulders as she beamed at me.

“You’re so pretty, even more so in person! And classy too. Look at you in your head to toe black chic. I love it.” She breathed, scanning my full appearance with excitement radiating off her in waves and I managed a nervous smile in response. I still remembered Penelope as a late teen with an attitude problem, who often engaged me in fierce competition and was glad to find that adulthood had encouraged her to embrace her natural sparkle.

“Sir. I’m going to take Alice straight to my office to set up, okay? Cool. Thanks.” She called over toward the rest of the office carelessly, pulling me along behind her without even awaiting a response and I couldn’t help giggling to myself as I followed.

Penelope’s office was exactly what I had imagined, full of the same sunshine attitude that she radiated. Her desk was littered with cute figures, bright photos and pen pots filled with fuzzy tipped biros. She had more screens mounted all over the walls than I could even have applied for permission for at Interpol and I noticed that there was a small space at one end of the surface which was completely clear, with a second office chair tucked under it.

“You’re gonna be right here, next to me. If we’re gonna beat this guy, I figured we should team up, just like the old days.” She explained with a fond smile and I felt myself relaxing already in her warm company. “Just go ahead and drop your laptop stuff there and then I can show you where to store the rest of your stuff until we can take you to your hotel.” She instructed, indicating to my small case.

“Oh. This is everything that I have with me.” I answered bashfully, shuffling inside to begin setting up my laptop in the space indicated, whilst Penelope studied me with confusion.

“You don’t have a separate go bag?” She investigated, seeming thoroughly shocked by how little I had with me and I shrugged in return.

“I don’t really ‘go’, Penelope.” I chuckled as I busied myself with plugging everything in and noticed that her expression seemed concerned now. “I didn’t have much notice. I grabbed all of my casefiles and the laptop stuff that I could carry, and then just whatever personal items I could think of. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m not as well presented as you expected. I don’t travel much nowadays.” I added, hoping that this would settle her curiosity but instead she took a seat beside me and scrutinised me thoroughly.

“Why not? Hotch and Gideon even send me out when I’m needed and I don’t have a psychology degree.” She commented as she raised her brows at me, as if she needed to remind me of my own education and I simply shrugged avoidantly. “Are Interpol not making good use of you, Sugar? Whose career do I need to ruin?” She threatened, already seeming riled by the idea and I smiled at her protectiveness.

“It’s more complicated than that. Let’s crack this case and then we get into personal catch ups later, okay?” I suggested, much to her disappointment and my relief, we settled into work.

We spent the next hour comparing information and plotting possible traps, whilst Shepard and the rest of my team busied themselves with integrating into the local team and finding places to work. It was refreshing to work alongside someone for a change and having her input prompted new ideas.

After a while, the phone rang and Penelope leaned over to answer it on speakerphone so that she could continue examining the document that was between us.

“Hey, baby girl. Tell me you’ve got some good news for me.” A deep voice crooned, causing my attention to bolt upward in confusion, only to find Penelope smirking in satisfaction.

“Well, gorgeous, that I do. I am still 100% single, interested and available for dinner whenever you need.” She announced, earning a chuckle from the man on the line and I quirked a brow at her inquisitively.

“Also, the Interpol team just arrived. So I have now upgraded to the office of Unrivalled Girl Power, baby.” She added with delight and I felt my curiosity growing by the minute as she spoke.

“That was fast. Alright, Gideon and I will make our way back now. This lead was a bust.” He confirmed, revealing that he was actually a member of her team and I raised my brows in surprise at her demeanour.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long.” She drawled in a husky tone, before hanging up and attempting to return to her work with a smile. I playfully slapped her hands away from the files and thinned my eyes at her.

“I’m sorry. Are you really going to try to gloss over that? Explain, please!” I insisted, leaning closer to her in fascination and she chuckled as she shook her head dismissively. “Who was that, Penelope?” I gasped, feeling as if I might explode from the mystery and she attempted to swat me away.

“That was Derek Morgan. He’s one of the behavioural analysts and a dear friend.” She began, only causing my brows to raise impossibly further and she leaned closer into me to lower her voice. “He’s also an absolute hunk of a man, but you’ll see that in a bit.” She winked, suppressing a cheeky cackle and I felt my mouth drop open in shock.

“And do you speak to all of your dear friends like that, or is he special? He sounds special.” I hissed, grilling her like an excited teenager again, falling straight back into our old friendship as if no time had passed at all and she laughed heartily.

“Oh, please. Nothing wrong with a little workplace flirtation to brighten the day. You know what I mean! You work in Europe. You’re surrounded by romance.” She muttered dismissively as she returned her attention to her screens and I shook my head.

“I absolutely do not! You have no idea, Nels. Europe is not inherently romantic.” I drawled, rolling my eyes at her ignorance and she glanced back at me with a disbelieving smirk.

“I’m serious. Most of the men at Interpol either think that they’re the real life incarnation of James Bond, collecting as many Bond girls as possible, or they’re married to their work. It’s honestly rather dull. Nothing like you and Agent Morgan. That conversation sounded like a lot more than just playful banter to me. You two have chemistry!” I insisted, a smug smile filling my lips as I viewed her and she quickly brushed me off.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ally.” She breathed, the slightest hint of a blush filling her cheeks and I made a mental note to revisit this later. “We need to get our strategy ready. Hotch will call a meeting once Morgan and Gideon get back.”

“Garcia, do you have the suspect list that I asked you to pull? I want to run through it before the meeting.” A voice interrupted from the door and I turned to find a tall, slim young man waiting keenly.

“Oh, yes! Let me just get it printed for you.” Penelope answered, pushing the files aside to access her keyboard. “I’m sorry. I got distracted with helping Alice to settle in.” She added, before glancing at me to realise that he and I were looking at each other with interest.

“Ah, of course! Alice, this is Dr Spencer Reid, one of our behavioural analysts. Reid, this is Alice Hawthorne from Interpol. She’s a very old friend.” Penelope introduced with a flourish before returning to her task and I jumped to my feet to shake his hand, only for him to wave awkwardly instead. Though it was an interesting quirk, I was relieved as I hated contact with strangers and was glad that I would have at least one less person that I would have to endure it with.

“You’re the hacker with the Alice in Wonderland riddles?” He offered, viewing me with interest and I felt my cheeks turning pink the moment that I met his hypnotising hazel eyes. Now I recognised his voice from my call with Garcia and remembered the questions he’d been asking in the background after his rather embarrassing introduction to my work.

“Um, yes. I don’t usually do that. I had a feeling that it was Penelope and I knew that she would understand that. Or at least, I hoped that she would.” I offered, shuffling awkwardly on the spot and he nodded in understanding.

He was dressed remarkably smart compared to many of the other FBI agents, but still had an air of his own style about him that interested me. His neatly combed back hair complimented his handsomely chiselled features and I soon found myself struggling for something to say. I already considered myself to be somewhat socially challenged, but especially when it came to interacting with someone who was unexpectedly well matched to everything that I found attractive, I was a hot mess.

“It’s an interesting choice. Did you know that it was actually rated as one of the world's most influential novels? It’s full of nonsensical rhymes that could easily be used to create a rather complicated ruse, as not many people would know the answers offhand.” He complimented in what I assumed was an attempt to make me feel better about my rather childish tactics and I smiled in appreciation of his kindness.

“There’s actually a rare disorder named after it that is characterised by distortions of visual perception, the body image and the experience of time.” He began to explain and I couldn’t keep myself from interrupting him in excitement.

“Todd’s Syndrome, or dysmetropsia, right?” I interjected, causing his brows to shoot up in surprise and Penelope actually paused what she was doing to turn and look at us both in disbelief. “I’ve never encountered it, but I did study it in depth. It was actually the topic of my dissertation at university.” I clarified, causing a wide smile to spread across his face as he considered me and I could feel Penelope smirking at me from my peripheral vision.

“Your suspect list, Reid?” She offered, clearing her throat as she leaned toward him with a piece of paper and he seemed to shake himself back to reality to take it.

“Yes. Thank you, Garcia.” He blustered, taking it from her in a distracted manner and running his finger down the page at an impossible speed to have actually read anything. Before I could question this, he glanced back up in shock and his posture became alarmed. “I have to get this to Hotch. Nice to meet you, Alice!” He called as he rushed from the room and left Penelope and I silently communicating our confusion to each other.

“Okay, Miss Thing. You can’t sit there and tell me that you don’t flirt at work, and then do that right in front of me.” She crooned, looking after Reid with a mischievous appreciation and I turned back to face her with a shrug, hoping that I could conceal my bashful reaction. “Oh, you want to play innocent? I see how it is. Well, I’m not fooled. I know what I saw and I’m not one to forget.”

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crowbarstodd · 5 years

Text

Course Of Nature (1)

Chapter Summary: The kids patrol together for the first time, and hey, nobody ends up dead so I’ll count that as a success! Rating: G Word Count: 1,737 Pairing: Daminette

Parts: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four

Patrolling with Robin was akin to pulling out teeth. Until this evening, Marinette wasn’t sure she could be so irritated by someone who wasn’t Lila; even Chloe had never made her head reel or her face flush in sheer outrage as much as Robin.

So far in their patrol, he’d gone off on his own a total of four times, all without telling her where he was going, made a Carpace -- kind and for the most part relaxed, Nino -- stressed enough to retire early for the night because of his attitude, and had insulted her so many times she stopped keeping count.

She was sick of it -- sick of him. He didn’t work well with others in the slightest, was arrogant and clearly had no respect for her as a hero.

But she was Ladybug, and Master Fu asked her to work with him, so for the time being, she’d suck it up and deal with the devil.

“You can step out of the shadows,” Marinette said in Robin’s general direction. She was jogging lightly, keeping her eyes firmly on the streets to check for danger. Paris sparkled at night, the ever-present glow both comforting and helpful, allowing her almost perfect vision when the sunset.

There was a faint tutting sound before Robin emerged from the darkness, scowl on his face. “It’ll be more effective if we have the element of surprise.” She wondered why he never smiled, especially when his fellow team member, Nightwing was a bag of laughs, at least according to Chat Noir.

Then again, Robin did work under Batman, and he seemed to communicate mostly through grunts… Did Robin even know how to smile at all?

“There’s nobody to surprise. Crime rates have been statistically proven to lower when heroes are in sight, and it’s good for public reception if we patrol out in the open.”

The biggest problem between herself and Robin, Marinette had come to realise; was that they were too different in their ways of being heroes.. While Robin valued mystery and darkness, Marinette understood the importance of visibility, accepting the responsibility that came with being more than just a symbol. The weight of being an idol on an impossibly high platform, constantly teetering over the edges, a second away from slipping.

Robin believed that symbols were meant to stay as symbols. The less others knew, the more they wondered, the better. She could see the worth in his reasoning, but he was in Paris, not Gotham, and he needed to act like it.

Robin said nothing, simply releasing a grunt. The tips of his ears were red, illuminated by street lamps, and when he sped up so he was running ahead of her, he realised belatedly, that he might have been embarrassed by her easy correction. “Keep up!” He snapped.

He hadn’t bothered to turn around and check on her, if she’d slowed down because she was injured or distracted by something relevant he wouldn’t know until it was too late. He hardly looked at her at all the whole patrol. Briefly, she considered simply ditching him and running another direction, leaving him to patrol on his own.

A nudge at the back of her head, no doubt Tiki’s presence, warned her against that particular idea.

Instead of screaming or leaving like she wanted, Marinette resorted to rolling rolled her eyes. “It’s not a race, Robin.”

“Tt. You only say that because you’re losing.”

“Really now?”

Without warning, Marinette increased her pace, speeding past Robin and sailing over buildings with the agility and litheness granted to her by her miraculous. From behind her, she heard Robin release a swear as he tried to catch her. “Race you to the Eiffel tower!” She called, enjoying the way the wind whipped her hair back and whistled at her ears.

Sometimes, she had trouble believing that her identity hadn’t yet been discovered, especially when her lies were flimsy at best, and her disappearances all too convenient. But then, she would twirl effortlessly past hanging light features, and remember that her civilian self was an unusually clumsy mess, and she understood why nobody ever suspected her.

She raced Robin wordlessly; leaping from rooftop to rooftop, swinging over stray branches and ducking under street lamps. He was fast, she could admit, swift-footed, with a certain grace that came with years of practice, and just a dash of natural talent about his movements that most dancers would envy.

Marinette had none of that, but she could still admit her advantage. The miraculous was magic in that it hardly sapped at her energy — one of the many reasons why she was able to catch akuma’s and return to class a minute later without passing out when chemistry got too dry. It was easy to sprint at full speed when she knew she wouldn’t feel tired until she made it to the other side of the city.

She also knew Paris better, cutting through Alley’s, and knowing when to pass under instead of over. Robin seemed to realise this too, following closely after her, taking into account her short-cuts and easy-ways.

In the end, it came as a surprise to no-one, when she beat him to the Eiffel Tower.

She sat, legs dangling over the edge, waiting with a tongue out (she’s a very responsible and mature hero, really!) as her fellow hero landed beside her barely five seconds after.

“That was not an event test,” Robin said bitterly.

She had fully expected his comment, but found herself too surprised to come up with any witty retorts when he settled beside her. Sure, he was sitting at least three feet apart, but it was the warmest he’d been the whole night, so she’d take it.

Marinette held firmly onto the belief that there was goodness in everyone, and regardless of how demonic Robin was, she knew that even for someone like him, the rule stood.

So she did what she did best — what she was known to do as both Ladybug and Marinette. She held out an olive branch.

“True,” she admitted freely, relishing in the momentary surprise that painted his face, before his features quickly melted back into the same stoic expression he’d maintained the whole night. “But you never said there were rules…”

“Tt.” Robin’s eyes were blocked by the whites of his domino mask, but she could tell from the minute easing of his brows, and the way his jaw shifted, as if unclenching, that he found some amusement in her response.

Marinette was hardly the world’s leading expert in reading facial expressions, but well, Robin had an admittedly nice face (not nice enough to negate is asshole personality, just nice enough for her to be grateful he was an asshole. She was jelly around Adrien back when she used to like him, she did not intend to become distracted mush around her new partner just because he was nice and good looking. Luckily for her, he was only one of the two), and it seriously wasn’t her fault that lack of actual eyes to keep contact with as they spoke lead to her studying his features pretty often.

“I suppose you might have a point,” Robin relented. Marinate cheered internally. She knew he wasn’t completely heartless! “A rare occasion, it seems.” Okay, scratch that last thought.

Still, olive branches and second chances were her signature. “Well, special occasions need celebrating. Ice-Cream?”

Robin lifted his nose to the sky, sniffing a bit the same way he did when they first met. Wow, he looked like a total brat when he did that. “I don’t care for sweets.”

“That’s not a no,” she weaseled.

His chin tilted downward, just a tad, and he held his gaze on her face for just a second too long. “Hm,” he said at last.

“Great!” Marinate exclaimed, grabbing his wrist and tugging at it so he’d follow her. She let it go almost immediately, feeling a little stupid she’d done so in the first place — too used to the comforting and close partnership Chat offered — and promptly stepped off the tower, catching herself with her yoyo, and swinging herself to the next building.

She heard a clang, somewhere to her right, and watched as Robin followed after her, grapple hook presumably pulled out of the yellow utility belt around his waist.

Andrè was still awake, his little moving shop officially closing at twelve, knowing young couples often enjoyed their late-night rendezvouses. He smiled at her with familiar warmth, and gave them ice cream, predictably free (Andrè was well-liked amongst miraculous users for his free ice-cream, he was nice to Parisian heroes like that), though he did give them just a bowl to share rather than the usual two seperate cones. From the knowing wink he gave them, she figured he’d simply come to the wrong conclusion and accepted it.

Andrè’s ice-cream was divine. Today, he gifted herself and Robin a double-scoop of dark chocolate and red velvet, a simple gift compared to what he usually came up with, but Marinette was grateful nonetheless.

“Your uniform is too obnoxious,” Robin said over the bowl. He had taken the first bite once she’d settled it between them on the police-station roof, and hadn’t complained or made his little tutting sound, so she guessed that he was at least somewhat enjoying it.

She raised a brow at him, not quite in the mood to raise her hackles and start another fight between them. Well, he’d be starting the fight, really he always started the fights! And now he was saying her uniform was obnoxious? “My uniform is obnoxious?”

“Yes.”

“Robin you look like a walking traffic light.”

Robin’s head turned the other direction, clearly miffed at her insult. “The colours are part of the legacy,” he muttered, “have some respect. Most of the brightness is blocked by my cowl anyway.”

“Ladybug is a legacy too, bird-brain. The Ladybug is a symbol, it’s important that people see me.”

“The spots are gaudy nnngghhh!” He glared at her with crossed arms, spitting out the spoon she’d shoved in his mouth in a fashion that was rather dramatic.

“Better get used to them,” Marinette snarked, smirking at the sight of him with slightly puffed cheeks, furiously chewing at a mouthful of dark chocolate and red velvet. He was almost cute when he was quiet.

End Notes: whew first patrol?? And hey my kids don’t completely hate each other! They just really don’t want to be there lol. Look forward to the upcoming chapters where y’all will see more of supportive best friend Chat, and Marinette meeting Dami!

Taglist: @just-rant-and-write-fic-idea @kceedraws @mystery-5-5 @2sunchild2 @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @treebrosha @mooshoon

Feel free to ask me to add or remove you via dms, asks, or comments <3

ALSO if anyone here reads “Filtered Lens” that’ll be updated tomorrow, I’m just trying to decide smth rn :))

#daminette #maribat #crowbar writes #maridami #robinette #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #ml fic #mlb fic #ml au #mlb au #miraculous ladybug x dc #miraculous ladybug x batman #marinette dupain cheng #collab: ladybugout au #fic #course of nature

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thebargainingchip · 4 years

Text

Blood Colors - Chapter 16

Masterlist

Pairing: Roan x Reader

Warnings: None

Previous Chapter

Chapter 1

Clothes come off between kisses as soon as you reach your room, closer than his.

“You might punch me but are you sure (y/n)?” Cedree broke the kiss as your back hit the bed.

“Cedree, I am sure.” You say, clearly pronouncing the words, Cedree captured your lips between his again in a deep searing kiss, the two of you were almost bare and after so long without any real contact you felt your body responding as he crawled over you and pulled your shirt off. You pulled his underwear down and he was quick to pull yours down as you discarded your bra somewhere in the room.

Cedree pulled back and the site of his lust blown eyes as he looked you over was enough to make you all the more ready. Cedree didn’t wait long.

It felt like absolute bliss when he entered you, Cedree paused above you cursing loudly as you clenched around him, you chuckled as breathed into your neck to steady himself. Then he finally managed to regain himself as he kissed you again and started moving it felt good. It felt good until Cedree’s fingers brushed the mark on your forehead and then down your sides where some raised welts lie. And suddenly it wasn’t Cedree anymore, you breathing hitched and you threw the man above you off to sit up as you try to banish the image from your head.

“Was I that bad?” Cedree questioned, his hand sliding along your back in what was supposed to be a soothing gesture but only made you recoil as you curled in on yourself, bringing your knees up to your chest and sobbed.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Cedree slides closer across the bed but pauses when you flinch.

“I’m sorry, I’m not-I’m not ready yet.”

It seems to dawn on Cedree, “No it’s my fault, I should have been more considerate.”

“Cedree it’s not you,” though your mind screams for you not to, you wrap your hand around his in a reassuring gesture and squeeze and you feel all the better for it. He’s not Nire, you remind yourself, you’re safe and it’s okay.

“Well excuse me for a moment, if you don’t mind.” Cedree says sliding of the bed and disappearing, you don’t watch where he goes but you simply wrap yourself in a quilt and lie down, trying to ignore the lump in your throat that grows thicker and thicker and thicker until-

The bed behind you dips a while later and you turn quickly, only to catch sight of Cedree opening the covers.

“I thought you left.” You say, the lump in your throat dissipates a little. “I won’t be able to- at least not tonight.” You say.

“I know but I can’t leave you here alone, I’ll just be right here.” Cedree lies down on the bed facing away from you.

You’re able to relax a little even when you struggle to fall asleep. You knew that you had made the right choice by telling Roan that you would choose Cedree, you only wandered if Cedree would be happy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Today would be the day of the wedding and from tomorrow Roan would be away on honeymoon, leaving you to fend for yourself between the wolves. You had seen Roan at the official breakfast this morning, he didn’t look too pleased that the two of you were late. But further you had avoided him, after last night, he obviously had a very good idea of what transpired. You had so little time to spend with him but you just couldn't face him.

“Are you hiding from me?” Cedree popped into your room.

“Not exactly you.” You point out from where you are lying upside down on the bed.

“Roan?” You nod.

“Is it because of last night?”

“No!” You reject quite strongly, observing Cedree’s face, even upside down you could tell he didn’t believe you. “Maybe.” You said more softly, shifting your shoulders and closing your eyes. “Does it matter?” You question, looking at him again.

“Well, I’d like to dance with my prospective wife tonight at the wedding.” You sit up and turn around so fast you are almost dizzied by the action.

“He told you.” You almost exclaimed.

“He did, in fact, I feel flattered that you decided on me after just a few days,” Cedree said, a playful grin on his face, you threw a pillow at him.

“Of course we are not yet betrothed and even when we are we can still wait a while before proceeding, to learn to get to know each other.” Cedree said when he was done laughing.

“You want to?” You asked.

“Well, I know I’ve only known you a short while and it seems like we can get along well.”

“Marriage is more than just getting along.” You state.

“You were the one who jumped me so suddenly.” Cedree joked, you threw him with another pillow.

“I don’t want to feel obligated by what I need.” You say.

“(Y/n), I want this.” He said, finally serious. You threw another pillow at his face. “What was that for?!” He exclaimed, you shrugged.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s painful as you wait with the groom on the dais, although there are many officials here with you, you feel alone. Roan glances at you but you are good at glancing away when he’s not looking, you can’t go anywhere, it would certainly be noticed. Echo stands not far from you, next to the king as his protector, his guard. The ceremony is peculiar, different from the one on the Arc, but shares some general principles. Tayla is lead down the aisle by her ward since she doesn’t have any parents, she comes to stand in front of Roan and they both are on their knees before ceremony master.

He takes a deep breath to start but the doors slam against the walls drawing everyone’s attention. Roan stands as Nire enters “What is the meaning of this?” Roan demands.

“Azgeda’s destiny is under threat.” It’s all dramatised words to entice the crowd as they gasp and mutter. Your heart begins to beat in your throat. He comes to stand at the foot of the dais. And maybe Roan lets him pause even when he could have had the guards drag him away and declare him a mad man due to his injuries. You notice the pause. “A destiny was laid upon me before my injuries, in a moment of my visions I saw another who would stand there.” Nire points to Tayla.

“Who is this person, pray tell,” Aleksondria says stepping forward as if she doesn’t know. You almost feel like you can’t breathe, Nire points to you. The whispers only increase but fade when Aleksondria speaks again “We’ll need proof that you are truly who this man says you are.” She looks at you expecting what? You simply shake your head dumbstruck as what to do, you look to Roan for help but he says nothing.

“Allow me,” Nire says as he climbs the steps, you try to fight him when grabs your arm, having been frozen in one place until he towers over you, he only digs his nails into your arm as you wince. “Let's give them a show.” He whispers against your cheek as he spins you around. He pulls a knife from his belt and your body screams at you to run. Nire runs the blade easily down the back of your shirt, the clothes tear apart, he stops at the base of your spine. The horror dawns on you but you don’t move, you can’t. There is a collective gasp.

You don’t notice what is being said until you are being pulled down the steps of the dais by those hand that digs further into your arm. It’s all you could do but clutch at your top to keep at least one thing to yourself. You are distinctly aware of the eyes watching you as you are dragged up the aisle and out the door.

When Nire finally lets go of your arm you gain some sense back, clutching your already bruised arm. “Did you have to do it like that?” Roan barks to Aleksondria and Nire, they must’ve followed you out. It’s then when you can finally move and think and the horror dissipates into anger. You don’t see anything until your fist lands the first blow across Nire’s face, you are straddling him on the floor and for some reason you keep going even though your fists screams in pain, Nire is out by the third hit but you keep going as his head limps to the sides and your hands are bloodied by his nose.

“Do something!” Aleksondria yells in panic at Roan. Echo is the one to drag you off, you don’t resist much. “We need a healer.” You rip out of Echo’s hold and you set off at a quick pace.

“The ceremony will be dismissed, the betrothal is announced.” Is the last thing you hear before you turn a corner and then sprint off in a run.

You slam the door to your rooms closed behind it and as a second thought push the dresser until it stands before the door. There is a big knot in your throat that refuses to release itself even as you take deep breaths. But you can fix this can’t you, you can un-ruin this for Roan.

You sob as you watch the blade heat up in the fire, letting yourself break for a moment. Your minds a mess of all the dark, and the light is gone. You feel so alone and scared but most notably you feel... unwanted. The banging at the door interrupts your sobbing, and you listen carefully glancing back to see the drawer you sifted in front hasn’t moved. “Y/n, open up.” You consider it for the moment but it's too late, you can’t go back to this, this time its been too far, you can’t do this anymore. If you could just burn these scars maybe they'd mean so much less, maybe you'd stop suffering at the hands of Nire. The blade glows before you and you pick it up, the tears blur your sight. “Y/n, listen, there is nothing you can do that will change this and I know that sounds like a bad thing but I’m here and I will need you for this.” It makes you pause and something inside you wills you to answer.

“I can’t do this anymore, I’m tired of disappointing everyone, I thought I wouldn’t here. I thought I could just be myself here but I don’t fit in.” You don’t have the will to keep your voice at the volume that he can hear for long, you don’t even know if he heard.

Anger and hatred flare up within you at no one else but yourself.

“(Y/n)!” You can hear the concern in his voice, then the door rocks against the drawer which gives an inch. You clutch the blade tightly, determination flaring up within you.

There's more rocking against the door as the drawer slides across the floor, you bring up the blade to your back, pausing when the sudden heat floods your skin mere inches above the flesh. You sob again as you try and will yourself to just do it, the pain will be blinding but it couldn’t last, it wouldn’t cut as deep as the pain you were feeling.

The thundering of footsteps echoes somewhere in the background and before you know it the blade is ripped out of your hands, it slides across the floor. Roan scoops you against his chest and everything about him envelopes you as you sob. He smells like perfumed a fresh cedar scent that is so familiar, his long hair that came loose from his braid slides into your blurry vision and god’s his warmth. “I ruined it, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Roan shushes you, only pulling you closer.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ROAN POV*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He follows you all the way to where he knows you are going, the door is barred in and he immediately knows something is wrong. He knocks, or more like bangs on the door, “Y/n, open up.” He waits and he listens trying to think when would be the appropriate time to start hurling himself against the door and was he overreacting? He waits a few more seconds.

“Y/n, listen, there is nothing you can do that will change this and I know that sounds like a bad thing but I’m here and I will need you for this.” There’s a pause and then:

“I can’t do this anymore,” Roan exhales in relief “I’m tired of disappointing everyone, I thought I wouldn’t hear. I thought I could just be myself here but I don’t fit in.” He has to strain to hear the last part but the words only set his heart thumping in his chest even louder, dread filling him up.

It goes quiet again “(Y/n)!” He yells through the door and doesn’t think about it one second longer as he slams into the door, it gives slightly, he sees the dresser in front of the door. He slams into the door again and there is just enough space that he can peer around the corner of the door, he sees the hot glowing blade immediately and pushes the dresser as much as he can in the small space, then he squeezes past.

Roan doesn’t think when he reaches you, he grabs the blade by the most exposed part and tosses it behind him, even though his nerves flare up agony. Then he envelopes you and holds you as you sob into him. “I ruined it, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Roan shushes you, he wants to make it go away, all of it. He’s been so reckless with you and everything that landed to this is his fault, he knows it. He holds you until your shoulders silently shake, then keep holding you until tour tears run dry and only let's go long after the shaking has stopped. Then he wraps you in the fur on the bed and picks you up.

“What are you doing?” You ask softly, clinging to him as if you’re so afraid he'd drop you.

“You can’t stay here alone tonight.” Roan whispers close to your ear.

“Roan, I can-“

“It's okay, I’m here.” He simply says, you wrap your arms around his neck and he can barely think or breath with you so close.

“People will talk.” You whisper as a last, weak objection.

“Let them. We’re betrothed, remember.” He says.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You don’t want to look up at the guards when you pass them, instead, keeping your face hidden in his neck. He sets you down on the bed and you let go of him, knowing your face must look a mess. You can barely look him in the eye.

“Roan I really am sorry.” You say again.

“This is not your fault.” He says firmly.

You could see something turns in Roan’s mind as he stares at you intently, you avoid his gaze, his grey eyes are so intent by the light of the candle on the bedside.

“Clarke has sent a request for us to travel to Arkadia.” Of all the things in the world.

“What?”

“I made arrangements to leave tomorrow. We need to discuss Polis, currently, Trikru is assuming that it's there and it might be that Skaikru had other plans. This might help us.” Roan said.

“What about me? What am I supposed to do?” You ask, swallowing thickly.

“Sometimes Skaikru and Azgeda don’t quite understand each other, maybe because you have spent time with both we might avoid any unwanted arguments.” Roan suggests.

“I’m going with?” Your question in disbelief. “Who else is going?”

“You, me, Echo and a few guards.” Relief washed over you with the force of a wave.

“This day has been long, we leave early tomorrow. We need to ride hard for the Azgedan border where we meet Skaikru.”

“Roan do you have a spare shirt for me?” He turns back and nods, digging in a drawer and pulling out a shirt. When you take it from him, you noticed the angry red marks on his palm. You take his hand and turn it over.

“I didn’t realise until I touch the blade.” Roan explains

“This is all my fault.” Roan is quick to pull you into a hug.

“Let’s go to bed, this day has been long.” Roan says softly.

As he undresses with his back turned to you, you redress. When Roan cones to sit on the other side of the bed with just his pants, you turn to him.

“It's my fault, all of this. I didn’t protect you but this, this gives me a chance to do better. I’ve failed twice, I know but there won’t be a third, I promise.” Roan says and you don’t know what to say, you’re already curled under the covers watching Roan settles himself down.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Listen I don’t need any disgusting squishy moments, especially tongue sucking.” Echo says to you as soon as she sees you. Your about to say something but Roan appears out of nowhere.

“We need to leave.”

Its barely light enough to ride when you mount, but there seems no time for waiting as Roan sets off at a trot, clearly intent with pacing the horses to get as many miles behind all of you as possible. For the first ten minutes, you squint at the ground trying to decipher harmless shadows from actual holes in the ground. On horseback, the journey is so much quicker but not particularly comfortable. Of course, your journey with Roan, nearly nine months ago had been the other way and it was thick winter by then. Now there were mere down drifts that left the nights harshly cold but they day relatively warm.

You don’t remember at which time you start recognizing the surroundings but as soon as you realize where en you are it sets a deep pit of fear in your stomach. You don’t particularly remember coming through these woods when you came to Azgeda but then again the place held very little significance. Back then these woods were like any other that you had come through, full of snow and pine-smelling. You honestly felt nauseous.

A branch cracked behind you, your stomach dropping as the horse you were on bolted forward a few paces, obviously jittery as you yielded him back into a slower pace which was simply cantering very skew and slowly with nerves. Clearly your feelings had been felt.

“I’m fine.” You say automatically as heads had whipped around at the sound of the horse hooves thundering, though when everyone settled their eyes back on the road you still kept a tight grip on the sword at your waist and glanced around to where the sound had come from.

“Calm down, your fueling your own fear.” Echo whispered lowly as she matched your speed. “Let go of your grip on the reins and talk to him, don’t give mind to what he spooked at.” She advised, you took a deep breath and loosened your reins a bit as you gave him a comforting pat. He fell into a trot though still tense, head raised. You nod to Echo in thanks focusing on your breathing as she trotted ahead. You couldn’t help but wait for the next scare, despite Echo’s words and your considerable efforts in relaxing, it never came.

Finally, you stopped when it became too dark to ride, tomorrow you would reach the border by lunch if you kept the same pace as today. Your camp for the night was a dry patch on a bit of higher ground. You had all managed to build a quick encampment for the horses and set up a fire before it was fully dark, and the food you had brought was quickly cooking on the fire as you collapsed to sit close. Your back was cramping and your butt hurt so much you contemplated standing but you were so tired. The temperatures were cooling at an alarming rate and you knew tonight would be cold but at least it was one night. No one was particularly inclined to staying up late, so with food in all your bellies and two guards on watched everyone settled down, huddled around the fire. Roan had rolled out furs not far from yours as he settled down, it was warm and cosy despite the uncomfortable ground below you when you settled down. “Roan what do you want to gain out of this? The meeting with Clarke.” You inquire. Roan lies facing the heavens a had thrown behind his head as if you weren’t sleeping in sub-zero temperatures.

“Because I am King of Azgeda and no Natblida have stepped up to claim the throne, the responsibility falls on me to take care of the throne but Trikru will stop at nothing to stop it.” Roans answer is very diplomatic.

“Do you think Skaikru is trying to secure an alliance with Azgeda?”

“I think they are.”

“And?” You question waiting for him to give his answer.

“(Y/n) because you are not Skaikru, it might do well for you to remember that Skaikru- Clarke, will stop at nothing to protect her people and because of Lexa and Indra, she is more inclined to consider then than she is to consider us.”

“But maybe-“

Roan interrupted before you could speak:

“Maybe its best if we don’t assume that Clarke won’t sacrifice you for the majority.”

It stung, but he was right. It didn’t hurt any less, but it would hurt less than not having thought of the possibility. Not really in the mood for conversation anymore you turned onto a different side and tried to fall asleep.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The glum feeling didn’t leave even when the sun was well in the sky and you were almost there. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.” Roan says when he falls beside you in one of the walking breaks. Your first thought is wishing you could just ignore him but it was an immediately followed by feelings of guilt. You sighed, Roan wasn’t a bad person for pointing out the truth, in fact, his intentions were good. “Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth, maybe even though, it doesn’t feel like it right now, it needs to be said.” You say picking your words carefully, you didn’t want to say something that might give him the idea you were not entirely impressed with him, even if it was true. “It's just, I really didn’t think I would be on a side where I might be in this position. I thought-“ you stop yourself when your throat tightens. You breathed in, you were just tired and irritated, maybe a little broken and certainly not having it easy the past few months, you breathed out. “What's done is done.” You say it, in part, to stop Roan from giving you the ‘you-are-Azgeda-now-and-nothing-can-change-that’ speech and partly to yourself as a reminder. No one said anything then.

After waiting for a while the signal went up which you had been waiting for, so on Azgeda border the party mounted from where they had waited and road to where the signal was seen.

“What were you napping?” Echo asked once everyone stopped in-front of the Rover and van behind it. You hadn’t seen this baby in ages. Bellamy was lounging against the open door, not looking too impressed, beside him Miller.

“Azgedan guards, in the van.” Bellamy said. Skaikru had brought along enough guards that it clearly outnumbered their company sacrificing a comfortable ride home for tense squashed one, this was maybe not a good move, you thought. “No way, the King of Azgeda stays with his guards at all times.” Echo objected. “Either that or you walk.” Bellamy shrugged, Echo was about to argue further when Roan stopped her. He first turned two the two guards who would be staying to lead the horses back to an inn not far where they would wait for the company to return, however long it may be. He gave the two their orders and once they set off he turned back to Bellamy who was impatiently waiting. “I agree to your term.” He simply said. Echo you and Roan headed for the back of the Rover. Miller stopped you by stepping in front of you, your gut wasn’t so happy with the visit. “In front, there no space in the back.” There was not a friendly feature on his face.

“I can sit on the ground.” You answer but he simply kept pace with you as you tried to brush past him, blocking your path. Miller folded his arms a determined look on his face.

You looked at Bellamy who only stepped away from the driver’s side giving you the opportunity to sit in front. You glanced at Roan and Echo who was watching the scene unfold, when there was no objection on Roan’s face you complied.

You slid passed the steering wheel to the middle of the seat, Bellamy the driver and Miller sat against the window, back slightly turned so he could see the back of the rover, tightly clutching his gun. “Som ste skechi (Something is wrong).” Echo whispered softly.

“Hey! None of that.” Miller said, everyone was tense.

“Bellamy.” You turn to him, watching him carefully.

“We need to be extra careful.”

“Of what? We came willingly and it’s not like we brought an army for fighting.” “You can talk to Clarke.” Miller said breaking off the conversation. Bellamy clenched his jaw.

The ride was uncomfortable, to say the least, the last thing on your mind was that you were sick of sitting on your sore behind with your sore back. What was worse was Bellamy’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and Miller who kept his finger on the safety. You couldn’t turn your head to look to the back, scared of setting Miller off like the ticking time bomb he was.

The hours seemed to drag as you made your way to the camp but that too came to an end even if it felt like an eternity. Finally able to stretch your legs, your feet splashed in the mud puddle, it had been raining and hard if the ground was any indication.

“They’ll show you all to your quarters, Clarke is expecting you in the meeting room in 30 min, weapons stay here.”

“You can’t do that.” You stated.

“Yes I can.” Bellamy said defiantly.

“Look around Bellamy, everyone here hates Azgeda, you can’t promise me you can stop them from doing anything rash.” Bellamy hesitated at your words, glancing around at the people who had stopped work to glare.

“It’s final.” Bellamy said anyway. You took off your sword and slid the knife out your boot and stuffed them in the guard's arms none too politely. “You have your old room.” You didn’t wait up as you stomped off, determined to find Marcus.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“He's not there, you know.” Miller says coming to stand a few feet away from where you had been knocking on the door, it was almost time for the meeting.

“Where is he?” Miller didn’t answer, his cold and distant nature abundantly clear.

“I know we didn’t get along but this is a new low, even Murphy would see that.” You ignored the outright blow

“You will tell me what the hell is going on, right now, Miller.” Again Miller doesn’t answer.

“Abby wants to see you.” Bellamy says from where he appeared, your head snaps in his direction.

“The meeting is about to start.” You wait for an answer, “this is a mistake, Bellamy.” You say, Miller lunges for you, you throw a punch to his face that makes him stumble as Bellamy tries to grab you. You slam Bellamy into the wall hard with your shoulder as Miller grabs your arm, you struggle to break his grip as he twists your arm behind your back so far that you are on your knees to try and alleviate the pain in your shoulder. You sweep his feet out from under him in a painful move that shoots into your shoulder, Miller lets go of your arm as he hits the ground. Bellamy wraps his arms around you perfectly immobilising you and avoiding your kicks to his groin by twisting his hips. “Help!” You finally yell but as soon as the words are out your mouth, Bellamy slams you into the wall and clamps a hand to your mouth, your head slams into the metal as his fingers dig into your skin to keep your mouth shut. You don’t have the capacity to make a sound as you vision blotches and your head lulls. You are still trying to get your brain to work right as you struggle weakly but they are quickly dragging you down the hall. You had a really bad feeling about this.

Next Chapter

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#the100 #roan x reader #roan x you #fanfiction #king roan #Roan #roan kom azgeda #roan of azgeda #roan fluff

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missing-marvel · 5 years

Text

The Shape of You (Pt. 1)

Pairing: Vision/Reader

Tags: Slow burn, multi-chapter, self-indulgent Shape of Water AU ???

Part 2

A/N: Guess who’s back? I bet you thought I was dead. Well surprise, I’ve got ANOTHER Vision fit for ya cause Endgame did my boy dirty. As you may have noticed, this is an AU. It’s set after AoU but kinda diverges from Civil War... You’ll get it as you read. And yeah, I pretty well am taking the whole premise of The Shape of Water (cause it’s a gorgeous movie if you haven’t seen it!) but you don’t have to know literally anything about that movie.

Also! This is gonna be a long chapter cause there’s a lot of stage to set so buckle in kids.

-------

A harsh beep sounded from the terminal as you clocked in for the day. It was like your second alarm clock. One in the morning to get you out of bed, a second one when you got to work to get you out of your head. No amount of coffee would make you properly awake this early, but you were getting used to it. A government job expected you to work on a strict schedule, even if you were just a custodian.

You’d been working here for a couple months now. Supposedly this place had some pretty secret government projects going on, but you hadn’t seen anything interesting just yet. It must be true though, considering how much screening you went through when you applied for the job. Not to mention the amount of forms you had to sign. No employer went to that much trouble unless they had something to hide.

You didn’t expect today, however, would be the day things finally got interesting.

You made your way to one of the many maintenance rooms to grab your gear. Before you got there, however, you ran into your boss, Ronnie.

He was a skittish man, always nervous about something or other. He was also incredibly annoying. He’d do anything to get attention from the higher-ups. He was always gunning for a promotion, though he had been in this position far longer than you’d worked here. Most of what you knew about him came from break room gossip.

“Different assignment for you today. It’s a big one. You cannot mess this up.” Ronnie shuffled the folders and loose papers in his hands. He was always carrying papers it seemed. You had no idea what any of them were for. You were half convinced it was just his way of looking ‘professional.’

“Yes sir,” you droned, already tired of Ronnie’s crap. He was your superior though, and you couldn’t risk being snappy with him. “What will I be doing?”

“Report to Lab 205. You and a handful of others will be the only custodial staff allowed in there for the foreseeable future. There’s a very special asset about to be moved here and it’s extremely important that we don’t screw this up.”

Lab 205 was on the second basement level. You’d only been down there a handful of times and you certainly weren’t familiar with it.

“All due respect sir, but am I the best choice for something like that? I’ve only been here a couple months and—“ Before you could finish your thought, Ronnie cut you off.

“Ah ah ah!” There he went again, making that God-awful sound. There wasn’t anything more condescending than the sound Ronnie made when interrupting people. “I don’t choose the people for the job, I just give them the news. Just report there in 5 minutes and someone there will tell you what to do. I’m sure if you can’t handle this, they’ll find someone more suitable for the job.”

And with that, he simply walked away. What an ass. One day he was gonna get smacked in the face. You didn’t let it get to you, however, as he did this with just about everyone on the custodial staff.

You made your way quickly to the elevator, silently hoping you remembered the way to the lab.

___

You made it with no time to spare. Turns out, you didn’t remember the way to the lab. You had just spent the last 4 and a half minutes frantically combing the floor for the right room. Why did this place have to be so damn big?

Several faces turned toward you when you burst into the room, sweaty and out-of-breath as you had been running. There were four other people in the room wearing custodial uniforms, all giving you looks of disapproval. Their attention was brought back to the front of the room fortunately, when a sharply dressed woman cleared her throat loudly.

‘Oh great, another Ronnie,’ you thought. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes and stood at attention as she spoke.

“As I’m sure you’ve been told, the five of you are going to be the sole custodians responsible for the care of this lab for the foreseeable future.”

It was only now that you fully noticed the size of the lab. The ceiling was higher than every other room in the building (that you’d been in) and the whole space was filled with so many computers and monitoring stations that there was hardly any walking room left. At the back of the room was a glass wall of some kind, separating you from the back wall. Behind the glass was mostly empty space aside from some complex-looking machinery.

“The new asset is being brought in tomorrow. That means you have today to get this place spotless. This is easily the most important thing ever to be housed in this facility so I expect all of you to maintain complete secrecy. Anything you see in this room from now on is completely confidential. As I’m sure you all understand, any divulgence of confidential information will result in immediate termination and legal action will be taken.”

You exchanged a few nervous glances with your coworkers but said nothing. You had no idea what you were getting into.

The woman’s expression suddenly turned chipper and she clapped her hands together cheerfully. “Well! I expect nothing short of perfection from you all. Now get to work!” With that, she turned and exited the lab.

___

It had been a long, grueling day. Cleaning that lab had proven far more work than you expected. Every time you thought you were done with an area, a supervisor would tell you to do it again, better this time.

But now you were home, stretched out on the sofa to relax your aching muscles. You lived in a small apartment uptown. You tried to avoid the word ‘dingy,’ opting instead for ‘modest.’ Sure the place was small, there was a spider problem, the temperature was always slightly off, and plenty more problems you’d gotten used to but it was yours. There was nothing better than going home to a space to call your own at the end of the day, even if it was dingy.

You worked long shifts, leaving little time for activities in the evenings. On the plus side, you got long weekends. This meant your nightly routine consisted mainly of eating, showering, watching TV for a little while, and going to sleep. Today was no different.

However, as you lay in bed, you found your mind wandering. You thought about this ‘asset’ being brought into the lab. You had endless theories about what it could be. You were secretly hoping it was a live alien. How cool would that be? A stream of ideas fit for a sci-fi novel ran through your head until you inevitably fell asleep.

_____

So it wasn’t an alien. At least, you didn’t think it was.

You and the other four custodians had been permitted to be in the lab when the asset was brought in, much to your surprise. Presumably, they thought that if you got to see the ‘asset’ right away, you’d be less likely to snoop later. The five of you stood in the corner, enthralled by the scene in front of you.

A couple men in military uniforms had wheeled in some kind of container, large enough to hold a person. Through the glass on the front, you almost thought the thing inside was a person. But when you got a better look, you could tell it was something inhuman.

The figure inside had their eyes shut. At first glance, their face appeared human, until you noticed that their ‘skin’ was a deep red and green with clearly artificial design. With all the commotion, you unfortunately couldn’t see much more than that.

A man in a lab coat was fussing over every little thing. He would snap at the men pushing the container, saying things like ‘this is worth more than you’ll make in your lifetime’ and ‘if I find one scratch on that machine you’re both fired.’

While the man was utterly exasperating to listen to, his complaining informed you that the figure was in fact, a machine.

“It’s... an android?” You mumbled under your breath and your coworker next to you looked over.

“What’s so special about an android?” she asked, keeping her voice low so as not to get in trouble. “Hasn’t the government been building robots for years?”

Thinking about it, you realized she was right. The government had already created some fairly advanced robotics that were far from secret.

“There must be something special about this one,” you said. “Something worth studying. Maybe it’s foreign?”

Suddenly another coworker that had been listening in gasped. “Oh my God you guys,” he said, his voice trailing off.

“What? What is it?” You were surprised by his outburst and too impatient to deal with it.

“What if... what if that’s the Avengers’ android? The one that got destroyed right before they disappeared.”

If that was the case, it certainly hadn’t been destroyed. When Ultron was threatening humanity, news that the Avengers had built another android to fight him was a bit upsetting to most people, the government in particular. Luckily, it worked out. The news hadn’t given a lot of details but the planet was still intact so they obviously did something right.

The government disagreed, however. They thought the Avengers needed more accountability. They tried writing up laws of sorts to control them, but it didn’t go so well. When the Avengers had tried to fight the laws, they were forced to go into hiding. At one point, a government assault team had been sent to stop them. They failed of course, though there were no casualties. Unless you counted a destroyed android. Like, completely destroyed. The news footage had shown a massive explosion. The government even released an official statement saying the android could not be recovered and the rest of the Avengers escaped. Looks like the conspiracy theorists were right about this one.

While no one in the general public knew much about the android, there was still footage of it from Sokovia. At the time, you’d been impressed. Leave it to Tony Stark and Dr. Banner to build something that advanced.

If it was here now, that meant the government wanted to study it. Stark wasn’t known to like sharing his most advanced tech, and this clearly had been no exception.

You let this new information settle in as you continued watching the scene unfold.

_____

The excitement settled down pretty quickly. The guy in the lab coat, who you’d learned was called Dr. Newmann, rushed from computer to computer, looking over the shoulders of the lab assistants and criticizing anything and everything. You quickly learned to tune him out. You didn’t bother his work, and he didn’t bother you.

Right now you were supposed to be checking the printers for paper and ink. They were brand new, brought in this morning specifically for this lab.

However you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the back of the room. The android was no longer in the container it had been transported in. It was now behind the glass wall, lying on some kind of table and connected to countless computers and machines.

When Dr. Newmann wasn’t yelling at lab assistants, he was in there, fussing over the android like it was his damn child. You could hear him drone on about the discoveries they were going to make into Stark technology. You had a sudden image of what the government could do with that sort of power, but shoved it to the back of your mind before you could dwell on it.

What you really wanted was to get a better look at the android. The other custodians’ interest had diminished rather quickly but you couldn’t help but continue to be curious. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near that glass with Dr. Fussy over there, not even for a quick look.

Your watch beeped suddenly, signaling the time for your lunch break. That was all the distraction you needed to forget everything you were doing and leave.

______

You’d finished your lunch a little early today and decided to get back to work right away. Perhaps if you got everything done early you could go home sooner.

You were surprised to find the lab empty when you got back. All the lab assistants as well as Dr. Newmann were absent. They must all be on their lunch breaks.

The android was still in the same place, unsurprisingly. You briefly thought about going over to sneak a look, but anyone could come in at any second. You didn’t know what kind of trouble you’d be in if you got caught. They seemed to take this thing pretty seriously.

You decided to do the reasonable thing and just get back to work. You started collecting the little trash bins by many of the desks that had already filled with paper. It was amazing how many notes these guys wrote down in just a day.

As you knelt to pick up a crumpled paper that was on the floor, you noticed what looked like a drawing on one of the corners. You carefully unfolded the paper, smoothing it out on your knee. It was a sketch of the android’s face, messy, but recognizable. A bunch of notes and equations surrounded it, practically illegible. One thing stood out to you, which was a question mark with circles around it. A line connected the mark to a point on the android’s forehead. There was an indent of some kind, though you couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or if something was missing. Your main focus was on the drawing itself though. It was surprisingly detailed. You thought that whoever drew it could’ve had a future in art, maybe in another life.

Well you had managed to do the smart thing for all of thirty seconds. Now your curiosity was getting the better of you. You knew the old slang about curiosity and the cat. You also knew the ending of it.

‘Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.’

Stuffing the paper in your pocket, you carefully approached the glass, cautious of the many wires that snaked across the floor. You couldn’t go inside. The only door in the glass was opened with a full handprint scan. Specifically, Dr. Newmann’s. Not that you wanted to go inside, anyway.

Up close, you were surprised and just how much detail the android had. Aside from the color, its face looked almost scarily human. In fact, it’s whole body seemed organic in shape, for lack of a better term. Though you did recognize the odd indent in its forehead from the sketch. It definitely looked like a part was missing. Overall, it didn’t look like what you expected a robot to look like; all blocky and mechanical like in the movies. It looked like a person.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You hadn’t even realized you were practically leaning on the glass until the furious voice of a lab assistant snapped you back to reality.

“I’m s-sorry! I-I was just looking, I swear! I didn’t touch anything!” You frantically backed away from the glass.

The lab assistant marched over to you, eyeing you over before looking back towards the android. She was silent for several moments as you stood frozen in fear, expecting the worst.

When she seemed satisfied in her examination of the situation, she spoke up, “You’re lucky I wasn’t Dr. Newmann. He would’ve had you out of here faster than you could even blink.”

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You couldn’t afford to lose this job. You especially couldn’t afford whatever lawsuit against you would ensue if they thought you had damaged anything.

“I’m sorry Ma’am. It won’t happen again.” Your voice still shook as you tried to come down from your panic.

“It better not. I may not be here next time.” Suddenly, her frown picked up into a slight grin and she glanced back and the android before turning to you again. “Although... it is pretty cool huh?”

Was she... messing with you? Was this a test?

“Y-yeah. Hey, if I can ask, that is the Avengers’ android, isn’t it?” You had to ask. If anyone was going to tell you, it was the lab assistant that just saved your job.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her smile disappeared as quickly as it had come and she turned back towards one of the computers, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear she’d winked at you.

There wasn’t time to question it, however, as Dr. Newmann and the others walked into the room. You returned to the trash cans as quickly and nonchalantly as possible, still wrapping your mind about what had just happened.

____

The next several days were uneventful. You kept to your duties, careful to avoid another close call. Today, however, you’d been told you’d have to stay late with two of the other custodians. Apparently, the security guard had been in an accident and you were the only last minute options. Technically, you were all trained in very basic security skills. It was mandatory for the job, partly because a lot of custodians had to stay late when almost everyone else has gone home. You guessed it was cheaper to train people the extra skills rather than hire a whole ton of security guards.

In preparation, you were drinking coffee during your afternoon break. Only the sweet embrace of caffeine was going to get you through this night. On the plus side, you were getting a ton of overtime.

It was that time of day where a large portion of the people here were starting to go home. You watched as one-by-one, the lab slowly emptied, leaving you alone with the two other custodians you’d spoken to on the day the android had been brought in.

As the night drew on, you took turns doing various tasks around the lab to keep busy. At any given time, however, somebody had to be in the actual lab itself. Right now, that was you. One of your coworkers was out walking the halls and the other had snuck outside for a cigarette. You were alone.

There were only a few lights on in the lab; just a couple of the ceiling lights as well as the main light that lit up the space behind the glass wall. It was like a spotlight shining down on the android.

It had been days now and you had no idea what they’d learned from this thing. It was still shut down. You weren’t sure if it was powered off or just straight up broken.

You turned your back on the android, slowly pacing back to the other side of the room. You barely made it a halfway, however, before a loud crash behind you nearly made you jump out of your skin.

You spun around reflexively, looking for any sort of intruder. What you saw instead was far more surprising.

The android was awake. It was also on the floor. It seemed to have fallen off the table. It sat upright, one arm braced against the side of the table. It was looking around as if dazed and you briefly made eye contact. The first thing you noticed was the striking artificial blue of its eyes, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. The thought was fleeting, however.

In a moment of pure panic, you dove behind a desk, pretending like the android hadn’t seen you when it most definitely had. You heard more clattering come from behind the glass. You peeked over the edge of the desk and watched as the Android seemed to struggle to stand. Now that it was on its feet, you noticed something you’d hadn’t seen before.

The android was damaged. There were gashes in its artificial skin of varying severity. It placed a hand gently on a particularly nasty looking cut on its arm and for a moment, you felt a pang of sorrow for the thing. Could it feel pain?

That was when you decided this thing probably wasn’t a threat to you. You weren’t sure what told you that exactly, but you weren’t afraid. You were intrigued, in fact. You were the first person to see the android awake.

You slowly stood up from behind the desk, once more approaching the glass.

The android tried to say something, but you couldn’t hear it. At first you thought it was because of the glass, but the android’s reaction said otherwise. It’d only appeared to say a couple words before it stopped. A confused expression crossed its face and it turned away, raising a hand to its throat tentatively. It began to speak again, but once more was silent. You couldn’t identify the look in its eyes when it turned back to you.

“Can you hear me?” You spoke up only a little, not knowing how soundproof the glass was, but also not wanting your coworker in the hallway to hear.

The android merely looked at you a moment and you assumed it hadn’t heard you. Before you could speak again, however, it nodded.

A small part of you felt overjoyed. You weren’t sure why, but the fact that you could communicate was strangely exciting. Maybe it was the fact that you, not a lab assistant or that ridiculous doctor, but you got to be there when the android woke up.

“Can you speak?” Your mind was suddenly racing and you had to restrain yourself from just spouting out endless questions.

The android frowned before shaking its head. It gestured towards its throat and you understood.

“You’re damaged...” You weren’t asking so much as simply repeating what it had been trying to say. The android nodded solemnly. You wondered how much more damage it had sustained that wasn’t visible.

“Does that-“ you gestured to your arm, mirroring the spot on the android that appeared damaged. “Does it hurt? Can you feel it?”

The android’s expression suggested that the answer wasn’t as simple as a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ It started gesturing something with its hands and it took you a moment to realize it was miming writing.

“Oh! Are you asking for something to write with?” The android nodded excitedly. You almost turned to look for paper before stopping, your shoulders slumping in disappointment.

“I’m sorry. I can’t get you paper ‘cause I can’t open that door.” You pointed toward the glass door and the android followed your gaze. “Only Dr. Newmann can, and he’d never let anyone else in.”

The android approached the glass calmly and you found yourself backing up subconsciously. It raised a hand to the glass and much to your shock, it phased right through. It stopped abruptly after its hand was through the glass just past the wrist. It appeared that the damage on its arm was stopping it. The android pulled its arm back in frustration before looking back to you. It waved its hand in a way that told you to step back. You did so without question.

You only realized what was happening when the android pulled back a fist and struck the glass with a wicked punch. You reflexively flinched away at the contact but the glass didn’t move. It barely even made a sound. There was no sign of damage.

The android’s eyes were wide in shock and it struck again, the glass still not budging. A small part of you was glad, not wanting to be held responsible for a possible robot rampage. But the look on the android’s face when it realized it was trapped filled you with guilt. Despite its inhuman appearance, this time you recognized the expression as fear.

As the android took a step back, you came up with an idea. You grabbed a pen and paper off the nearest desk and approached the glass again, earning a quizzical look from the android. You took a seat on the floor, gesturing for the android to do the same.

It was still for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to trust you. It must’ve decided you weren’t a threat because it mimicked your actions, taking a seat in front of you.

You froze for a moment, realizing this was the closest you’d gotten to the android. The only other person that had been this close was Dr. Newmann. You wondered what the man would think if he saw you right now. You silently gave thanks there were no cameras in here. They had worried about them being hacked and causing a security breach.

Your attention back to the matter at hand, you clicked the pen and set both it and the paper on the floor as close to the glass as possible.

“If you can at least reach your hand through the glass, you can write on here to talk. It’s not the fanciest method of communication but it should work.”

The android reached for the pen, slowly this time, so as not to worsen its damaged arm. To your surprise, it simply wrote, “Thank you,” on the paper in immaculate handwriting. Oddly, it wrote the words upside down, not needing to turn to the paper for you to read.

You didn’t have time to respond, however, as it continued writing.

“Where am I?” It asked.

“A government facility,” you said, noting the immediate look of alarm on the android. “I don’t know how they found you, but you’ve been here several days. I’m just a custodian, not a scientist. I don’t know much of what goes on around here.”

Rather than responding, the android looked back at the computers and machinery with newfound worry.

“Where did you come from?” You tried to distract it with another question.

It didn’t even need to finish writing before you knew what it was saying. “The Avengers.”

You muttered a soft ‘woah’ under your breath. “We wondered if that was the case. So, did the Avengers give you a name?”

You wanted to ask more about the Avengers, but you doubted you’d get many answers. This android just woke up and found out it’s trapped in a government facility. It wasn’t likely to start spilling secrets any time soon.

The android finished writing, moving its hand to reveal “I am Vision,” written on the paper. You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. Still, the name seemed fitting. The name reminded you of the android’s eyes. Now that you were close, you noticed not only their vibrant color, but the intricate detail in its eyes.

“That’s an interesting name. Fitting.” The android broke eye contact to write a response. Now that you knew it had a name, it didn’t feel right to keep referring to it as, well, ‘it.’ You realized this wasn’t a simple machine. It may well be as alive as you were. In that case, it seemed appropriate to say ‘he.’

“It was Thor’s idea,” he wrote. You couldn’t help but chuckle. Somehow you found the image of the Norse god of thunder naming this robot to be quite funny. It made you realize just how little you, or anyone else for that matter, really knew about the Avengers.

Suddenly, you heard the door to the lab jiggle and panicked, grabbing the paper and sprinting over to the door.

You grabbed the door as it began to swing open to see your coworkers. Luckily, as long as you held the door open only about halfway, they couldn’t see the android—Vision— behind you.

“Your shift’s up. You can go home for the night. Hey, uh, are you okay? What’s that—?” Your coworker tried to reach for the paper in your free hand but you quickly stuffed it in your pocket, trying to appear inconspicuous and failing.

“Oh just some doodles,” you said, letting out a strained chuckle. “I got bored. Hey you guys wanna give me just a minute? I need to round my stuff up and then I’ll go.” Your coworkers glanced at each other before giving you a look.

“Uh, sure, whatever you say.” You muttered a quick ‘thanks’ in response and closed the door on them without further explanation. You turned back to find Vision standing up now, watching you intently.

“I have to go.” Vision tried to gesture something but you cut him off. “There’s no time. If I’m in here much longer they’ll figure out something’s up. Dr. Newmann and the other researchers will be here in a few hours. I don’t know what they want from you but one thing I do know is that that man is crazy. He’s obsessed with this whole project.” Vision pointed at you in a questioning manner as you picked up your coat.

“I’m really sorry I’m not more helpful. I won’t be back until after the weekend. I don’t know what you’re going to do but just...” You suddenly wondered what you were thinking. Was Vision in danger? It’s not like they could hurt him, right? He’s a machine. But still, you didn’t trust the people here. And a bad feeling in the back of your mind made itself known. You stopped before you reached the door.

“Just be careful.”

---

Part 2

#vision x reader #vision/reader #marvel fanfiction #vision

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myqueenjudeduarte · 5 years

Text

Something Like Trust: Chapter 4

Post-The Wicked King

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Ao3

Tags/Warnings: Spanking, floggers, wax play, blindfolds, orgasm delay, teasing, bondage, slapping, breath play/choking, hey kids remember that both wax play and breath play can be super dangerous if you don’t do your research and aren’t careful, and I know I didn’t put a lot of info in about that but you can always message me if you need information! don’t do them unsafely!

Summary: “This week, I thought we would try something different,” said Cardan with a smirk. “It came to me, last night, that this week, you should not.”

“Should not what?” asked Jude, apprehensive and still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Come.”

Word count: 7,603

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my fics/in this fic! Tell me what you want to see happen next! Reply with what you like and don’t like! Give me feedback!

Tagging: @mis-lil-red @wickedqueenoffantasy @yrenewestfall-official @fultimefangirl @what-huh-imconfused @pinkydaze @sketchy-characters-in-progress @obsessed-withtheworld @mehlisssa @sjmsstuff @tswaney17 @oliviathorne280 @hoegreenbrair @illyrianbeauty @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @singme-t0sleep @bookloveaffair @celeanagalathynius @schmlip-scribble @breezyfreezey @fi-fi-firefly

One Sunday, Jude woke in her chambers with a start. She immediately reached for the knife under her pillow, expecting, as always, that whatever woke her up would likely make an attempt on her life.

“Murder really is your solution for every situation.”

Jude closed her eyes against the frustration welling up inside her.

“Cardan, you startled me. Startling me is a very dangerous pastime.”

Cardan merely laughed. “If you would share my chambers, dear girl, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

Jude rolled her eyes, eliciting a stern look from Cardan. She knew — they both knew — that sharing chambers was still a far-off prospect. That Jude was loathe to admit any intimacy beyond what came with the territory of their arrangement.

“This week, I thought we would try something different,” said Cardan with a smirk. “It came to me, last night, that this week, you should not.”

“Should not what?” asked Jude, apprehensive and still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Come.”

She was instantly and completely awake.

“Cardan—“ she began, but he held up a hand to stop her speech.

“There’s no point to begging,” he said, a wicked grin on his face. “It won’t make a difference.”

In truth, Cardan did not think Jude was ready to beg yet. She would, eventually, and when she did it would be beautiful, but for now she was still too deeply entrenched in a fear of vulnerability and perceived weakness. She would think, he knew, that begging was an ultimate show of powerlessness, and he was afraid succumbing to it would send her running.

Jude, for her part, would have been somewhat comfortable with the prospect of not orgasming for a week, had she not known what torment Cardan was certain to inflict on her during the week to come.

And inflict torment he did.

Sunday Evening:

Later that evening, Jude and Cardan were in Cardan’s chambers, going over paperwork and appeals from the people of Elfhame. Cardan had been responsible for over an hour at this point, and Jude was counting the minutes, waiting for him to get bored.

Suddenly, he threw down the papers and sighed.

Jude grinned. “One hour and seven minutes of focus from Cardan. Impressive.”

Cardan narrowed his eyes, but he was smiling. “Oh, I haven’t stopped focusing, I’ve simply decided to shift my focus to more worthy matters.”

He began to stalk towards her, and she took an involuntary step back, then cursed herself. She never stepped back from a threat, which was clearly what this was.

Cardan’s smile grew wider. “Afraid of me, are you, darling?”

Jude steeled herself. “Never,” she whispered.

“You should be,” he replied, voice light. “This next week will not be easy on you.”

Jude almost took another step back as Cardan reached her, his face a mere breath away from hers.

“Go get the blindfold, Jude,” he whispered, eyes flashing, daring her to challenge him.

She waited only a moment before complying. When she returned with the blindfold, he took it from her hands and fastened it tightly around her head.

“Take off your clothes,” came his next order, and Jude could not resist a snarky remark.

“You couldn’t have told me that before blindfolding me?”

She knew a punishment was coming for her words, but didn’t expect the stinging slap across her face until it was too late to resist the urge to cry out.

Cardan laughed.

“You’re truly testing me today, Jude, do you know that?”

Jude nodded, then, before he had a chance to respond to that infraction as well, said, “Yes, My Lord. I know.”

“And why is that, Jude? Do you want me to punish you?”

Jude swallowed hard. “No, My Lord.”

Cardan grabbed her by the hair and yanked backward.

“Then behave,” he said roughly before releasing her. She stumbled slightly and he laughed again.

You’re in quite a mood this evening, she wanted to say, but she held her tongue, not wanting to incur further punishment.

“Lay down on the bed,” he ordered. “Put your arms above you and spread your legs.”

Cardan laughed as Jude stumbled over to the bed, unable to see.

Jude gritted her teeth against the desire to say something snarky. Instead, she did as instructed, laying out on the bed and waiting.

Moments later, she was startled to hear him speak into her ear.

“Do not move, do you understand me? If you move, I will have to tie you up, and I will not be pleased.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Jude breathed.

“Good. Then let us begin.”

Jude heard something that sounded like a match striking, but rationalized that surely it must be anything but, because he would never use fire on her. She had, after all, vetoed branding, which she assumed he had suggested merely as an example of a hard limit.

Several long moments of waiting later, though, her thigh felt as though it had been kissed by fire, and she cried out, jerking her legs together. When the feeling didn’t immediately dissipate, she realized what it was — wax. He had poured a drop of wax onto her thigh.

Suddenly, her head was yanked backwards as Cardan grabbed her by the hair once again.

“I thought I told you,” he said, punctuating his words with another yank, “not to move.”

“I’m sorry, My Lord.”

He didn’t release his grasp. “If I want your apologies, I will ask for them. Right now, what I want is for you to obey.”

Jude tried to nod, but Cardan’s grip on her hair made doing so impossible.

“Yes, My Lord,” she said instead. “I’ll obey.”

Cardan finally released his grasp on her hair, but didn’t say anything. She found that she missed his usual reassurance, his “good girl”s and hair stroking. At the same time, though, she could feel how wet she had already become from his strict dominance, and knew this was only the beginning.

When the next drop hit, Jude succeeded in remaining still, merely whimpering at the sting.

Drops came more quickly after that, falling on her thighs, her stomach, her chest. When one hit her nipple directly she jerked upward, immediately saying,

“No — I mean, I’m sorry, My Lord.”

“I told you,” he said, dribbling an entire line of wax down her chest, eliciting a cry from her, “that if I want your apologies, I will ask for them.”

“Yes, My Lord,” she said, pain evident in her voice.

Cardan smiled, though Jude could not see it.

At first, this had been an experiment — a test to see how she would react if he went into a mode of pure domination, leaving comfort and reassurance behind. Quickly he had seen how much more obedient she was when she was in this state, and soon after he noticed how wet she was growing, how desperate even without being touched. He resolved to try this far, far more often.

When the candle had burned down too far to be of much further use and Jude was covered in dots of wax, he spoke again.

“Remove the wax from your body.”

Jude opened her mouth to protest that she could not, in fact, accomplish that task with her eyes covered, but quickly closed it. She was not about to elicit further punishment.

So Jude set to work, peeling off pieces of wax. Cardan admired the red marks left marring her skin, so much darker in color than his own.

When he bored of watching her fumble for pieces of wax, he knelt between her legs and, without warning, licked up her folds, circling her clit with his tongue. Jude moaned at the sudden pleasure but, to her credit, remained still.

“Keep going,” he said against her. “I want it all off by the time I get bored of pleasuring you.”

He knew this was likely an impossible task, considering that she could not see, but he delighted in assigning Jude impossible tasks. After all, what better reason to punish her?

He swirled his tongue around her clit and entered her with two fingers, quickly curling them inside her. Jude moaned once more, hands speeding up on her skin, desperately trying to find all the wax. Cardan grinned and hummed against her clit, causing her to buck her hips, then slapped her thigh in punishment.

“So very disobedient, my Jude. Whatever shall I do with you?”

He knew that not letting her come for a week was punishment enough, but was enjoying her flinches of fear at the threat of punishment, punishment she wouldn’t even be able to see coming. He wished he could keep her blindfolded all the time.

When he felt her muscles tighten around his fingers, felt her grow close to the edge, he stopped.

“Are you done?” was all he said. Of course, she was not - wax drips remained on her hips, her upper chest, and splattered across her ribs.

“Tsk-tsk,” Cardan said, reaching a hand down to pinch her nipple hard. She groaned but remained still. “A slut who can’t even follow a simple order. Maybe you do want to be punished.”

Jude shook her head frantically, and Cardan smiled once more before removing the blindfold.

“There. Now that I’ve made it easy for you, can you do something right?”

“Yes, My Lord,” was all Jude said before setting to the task at hand, peeling the rest of the wax from her body. He could see from the look in her eyes, the concentration and determination, the hurried way she peeled off the wax, that she was desperate to please him, and he decided to take pity on her. He reached down and stroked her hair gently, just once, but she leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed. Cardan grinned. This was exactly where he wanted her.

“Stay desperate for me, my Jude,” he whispered when she finished, as he climbed into bed beside her to hold her for a few minutes before they were needed in the throne room. “It will make this week ever so much more enjoyable for the both of us.”

Jude merely curled against him as he opened his arms to her, pressed soft kisses against his chest. For once, she hoped that the wax marks would still be visible when they entered the throne room, that every faerie in Elfhame would know what their king did to their queen. What she enjoyed.

Monday:

The next day, Cardan’s mood was entirely different. Since they had woken that evening, he had been nothing but gentle with her, delivering praise and soft touches whenever he had the chance. By the time they retired from the throne room, she was putty under his hands, soft from his softness and desperate for him.

Cardan held her hand as they returned to his chambers. Jude hadn’t even made her usual attempt to return to her own, so desperate was she for more of his affection.

When they reached his bed chambers, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her in to stand between his legs. “Do you know how stunning you look tonight? How utterly gorgeous and entirely fuckable? How much I’ve wanted to kiss my way down the beautiful column of your spine all night?”

Jude’s breath faltered and she could feel her heart beating hard as she looked down at him. “I’d love nothing more,” she replied, “than to feel your lips on my spine, among other places.”

Cardan smiled.

“And you will,” he said softly. “But Jude, you are still forbidden from coming. Do you understand? No matter how desperate I make you, no matter how badly you want it, you are to tell me if you even get close.”

Jude bowed her head. “Yes, My Lord,” she said, despite her disappointment. She had thought for one hopeful moment that perhaps, just perhaps, in this mood Cardan would go back on his promise to make her wait a week. That perhaps he would allow her the release she so desperately craved.

Cardan stood, then, and turned her around to face away from him. Slowly, tenderly, he untied the laces on the back of her dress. He placed gentle kisses on her shoulders as he slid the sleeves from them and let the dress fall to the floor. Then, he set to work unfastening her bra, brought back from the mortal world, a task at which he still struggled slightly, having no experience outside of her. He managed it, but not without some grumbling.

“You shouldn’t wear one of these in the first place,” he said, voice gentle despite his irritation. “I love to see you as you are, and it only limits my access to you. Access I deserve.”

Jude felt goosebumps on her bare skin. “I’ve been wearing them for much of my life, My Lord. I feel comfortable in them.”

Cardan sighed. “Very well, Jude, but you are never to wear one when you are with me alone.” With that, he dropped the bra to the floor before sinking to his knees behind her and hooking his fingers into the waistband of her underwear.

“And you most certainly,” he said, with humor in his voice, “do not need these.”

Jude smiled. “You want me indecent, My Lord?”

“You’re already a most indecent girl, Jude. Think of the things you let me do to you. Would ceasing the use of underwear add so much indecency?” When Cardan finished speaking, Jude’s underwear was on the floor, and he slipped a finger inside her from his position on the floor.

He hummed in pleasure. “Always so wet for me, my darling. How my words arouse you.”

Jude shivered.

Cardan stood and turned her to face him. “Undress me,” he said, but his voice remained soft, for once requesting rather than demanding.

Jude complied, unfastening his belt and removing his breeches. She sunk to her knees to do so, and leaned forward to press a kiss to his length before he stopped her with a hand in her hair, still gentle but warning.

“Not yet, Jude,” he said. “Tonight I want to show you what you mean to me. What all of this means to me. Our arrangement, your submission. How grateful I am.”

Jude looked up at him and smiled softly before rising to her feet. She stripped him of his shirt and, when ordered, obediently lay on the bed on her back.

Cardan settled between her legs and, without further preamble, slipped inside her. Jude moaned at the sudden feeling of fullness, and Cardan began pressing soft kisses to her chest, her neck, her cheeks. As he thrust inside her, slowly but gaining in speed, he kissed down her arms and over her ribs.

“Jude,” he said, and for one brief, terrifying, electrifying moment, she was afraid he would tell her he loved her. But he didn’t, of course, merely continued, “remember not to come,” before resuming his kisses. Jude was shocked by the slight feeling of disappointment, and quickly pushed away the sensation, uncomfortable with its implications.

Without warning, Cardan gathered Jude in his arms and flipped them so that she was on top, riding him. They had done this before, but not since their arrangement began, and Jude was surprised she would be allowed even this modicum of control.

Cardan smiled. “I would warn you against getting the impression that you have power here. You have only the power I allow you, which means you have no power at all, wouldn’t you say?”

Jude nodded, humbled, and continued to ride him, twisting her hips in the way she knew he liked. Cardan moaned and reached up to trace a hand down the curve of her breasts, over her waist, her hips.

Jude was growing more and more frustrated by her lack of release, a release she knew was still far off. She lightly grazed her nails down Cardan’s chest, and he looked at her in warning and amusement.

“Venting your frustrations, my dear?” he asked, but his voice was warmer than it was sarcastic. “Think of the hardship you’ve overcome in your life. Surely you can make it one week without release.”

Jude glared, but it wasn’t effective, as she was smiling.

“I can make it, My Lord, but I don’t want to.”

She twisted her hips again and, just like that, Cardan was coming, spilling into her and crying out her name, digging his nails into her thighs lightly.

When he came down from the orgasm, Cardan pulled Jude tightly against his chest. She allowed the embrace and used the position to press soft kisses to his chest.

“You look so beautiful atop me,” he murmured against her neck, voice quiet, spent. “I could watch you ride me forever. In fact, I can think of nothing I would rather do.”

The feeling of anxiety returned to Jude, anxiety that he would tell her he loved her, but for once, in this moment, she couldn’t remember her usual host of reasons as to why that would be so terrible.

He didn’t, though, just held her in silence for several minutes before she finally puled away, as usual remembering her reservations about being held like this.

The only time, she realized with some discomfort, that she entirely forgot those reservations was when she was deeply in the headspace of submission, beyond caring about her pride, fear, shame.

She rolled onto her back, and Cardan propped himself up on an elbow to trace gentle patterns across her skin.

“Do you want to come, Jude?” he asked lazily.

“Yes, My Lord!” Her voice was enthusiastic, but faltered when she saw the smile on his face.

“Good,” he replied, bringing a hand up to stroke her cheek. “I want to keep you desperate. Beautifully, beautifully desperate, my Jude.”

Tuesday:

On Tuesday, Jude was the one in a mood.

She was beyond stressed as her queenly duties seemed to pile higher every day. She had been up half the day answering letters and appeals, signing documents, and responding to requests before finally falling asleep only to wake an hour later to messengers at the door. Everyone in Elfhame seemed to have a question, a request, a demand, and even with Cardan’s help it was all Jude could do not to crack under the pressure.

Pressure she had so enthusiastically taken on when given the slightest opportunity.

And, as Jude had few people in her life to talk to about her stress, much less to take it out on, Cardan had been filling both roles.

One moment, she would be venting to him, explaining all the ways their subjects were irking her, and the next she would be snapping at him.

Several hours into the evening, Jude barged into Cardan’s chambers and approached him with a piece of paper. “What is this?” she asked accusingly.

“A document, my dear wife?”

Jude glared. “Yes, Cardan, a document. A document which directly contradicts a verdict I decided on yesterday! Do you have to make my life infinitely harder than it already is? Would it have been so very, very difficult to consult me before making a decision? Must you ruin everything?” She was near yelling as she finished.

Cardan stood and took her face gently in his hands, causing her instantly to feel guilty for the way she had spoken to him. “Jude,” he said. “I believe you could use some stress relief.”

Jude’s heart leaped, worries momentarily forgotten. “Yes,” she said, “Yes, I could. And do you know, Cardan, the best way to relieve my stress? Perhaps the only way?”

Cardan raised an eyebrow. “I believe I do, Jude, but do enlighten me as to what you’re thinking.”

“Letting me come.”

Cardan smirked. “So, allow me to get this straight. You enter my chambers,” he held up one long finger as he spoke and took a step towards her, “yell at me,” a second finger, and a second step. It was all Jude could do to hold her ground. “And call me by my name, rather than the title we have agreed on, several times.” A third finger, a third step, and Jude dropped her gaze to the floor, ashamed. “And then you have the audacity to request that I allow you to come, four days early.”

Jude said the only thing she could think of, which was, “I’m sorry, My Lord.”

“And yet,” he said, so close to her now that she could feel his hot breath on her face. “You do nothing to show it. You don’t drop to your knees before me, you don’t grovel, you make no attempt to make amends. No, Jude, I don’t think you’re sorry, but I do think I know exactly what will provide you with stress relief.”

With that, Cardan turned and walked to a chair which sat beside his bed. The chair was armless, red and velvet and indulgent — a kingly chair, and it was new. Jude noted its newness.

“I’m going to spank you, Jude,” he said, the calm in his voice only serving to irritate Jude further. “Walk to me.”

Jude walked to him, resigning herself to her fate, but could not resist one last act of defiance before she went over his lap. As she stood beside him, she muttered, “but do make it quick. I have business to attend to.” She looked pointedly at the paper Cardan had signed, the paper that undid her own work.

Cardan smiled at her insolence, a cruel, hard thing. “Oh, my dear, I most certainly will not.”

He reached up to pull her over his lap. She was wearing a deep blue tunic from Faerie and flimsy black leggings from the mortal world, having been too busy to coordinate her outfit, and as Cardan pulled the tunic higher he admired the fact that he could see the lines of her underwear through the thin fabric of the leggings.

As Jude settled over Cardan’s lap, she began to suspect he had purchased the armless chair, or at least had it moved into his chambers, for exactly this purpose.

Cardan began to stroke his hand lightly over Jude’s thighs, back, and ass.

“This is not a punishment, Jude,” he began, “not that you haven’t earned yourself one.” As he said this, he slapped her once, the feeling muted by her leggings and underwear. She felt no real pain, but shuddered under the impact.

“This is merely to relieve your stress.” He slapped her again after several seconds, then stopped to stroke her back once more. “And to show you that there are ways to calm you down without letting you come.”

The slaps came only intermittently, to the point that Jude had time to recover from each and, due to the fabric between herself and Cardan’s hand, felt little sting. She began to grow suspicious that Cardan just wanted her over his lap — certainly, she could feel that he was enjoying it.

With that suspicion, she grew impatient, and with that impatience came insolence once more.

“Cardan,” she said, “are you going to hit me or just play with me? I do have better things to be doing, you know.”

“Why Jude,” he replied, and as he did he slowly began to slide her leggings down her legs to tangle around her ankles. “I thought you wanted to be played with.”

With that, his hand came down hard, and the feeling was far more intense with only the fabric of her underwear to mute it. Jude inhaled sharply and fell silent, knowing that she could only push him so far before he would truly punish her.

The slaps began to fall more regularly after that. After about 30, he pulled her underwear down to join her leggings around her ankles.

Slap! Slap! Slap! More and more hits fell and Jude became more and more convinced that she had gone too far with her last words.

Suddenly, Cardan stopped and went back to rubbing, stroking, tracing patterns on Jude’s reddening skin. She tried not to let herself grow too complacent — after all, the spanking surely wasn’t over.

Sure enough, after several long minutes, he began again. This went on for some time — about a minute of spanking followed by several of soothing. The entire time, Cardan didn’t speak again, and neither did Jude beyond the occasional “ow!” and groan when he hit a particularly sensitive area.

The pain grew steadily over time, so that it took nearly 20 minutes before Jude truly felt it. When she did, though, it was a constant burning that was barely soothed by his periodic stroking.

Finally, when he began again after a period of respite, she moaned.

“My Lord,” she said, voice pleading despite her continued unwillingness to beg. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

Cardan sighed. “I told you, Jude, that this isn’t a punishment. I am not trying to teach you anything beyond the fact that if you relax and let this happen, it will relieve some of your stress. We will not be done here until you learn that.”

Jude groaned and resigned herself to be in this position for quite some time. She tried to put the work she needed to do out of her mind — a fairly easy task, considering that every time she focused on a thought for more than a moment, she was jolted out of her focus by sharp slaps.

After 30 minutes, Jude was moaning steadily in pain, but she could no longer deny that it was working. She was barely thinking about all that she needed to do, now that she had acknowledged that nothing she said would end this experience any more quickly, and she was limp over Cardan’s lap, no longer even squirming under the blows.

After several more rounds of spanking and stroking, Cardan stopped and laid a hand on her back.

“Jude, my darling,” he said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her red flesh. “Do you want me to stop?”

Jude hesitated for a moment, nearly unable to believe herself, before she replied, decisively, “no, My Lord.”

“Good girl.” He said it fiercely, proudly, and Jude basked in the praise.

He continued, then, and the cycle went on for the next fifteen minutes, until the spanking began to cross the line between relaxing pain and overwhelming pain and Jude’s cries became sharper.

Then, Cardan stopped, and he caressed Jude’s ass and back gently.

“I’m very proud of you, Jude.”

Jude closed her eyes and reached a hand up to grasp blindly for Cardan’s. He took it and squeezed gently.

“I’msorry,” Jude said in a rush.

“Dearest, I told you it wasn’t a punishment.”

“I know. I’m still sorry.”

Cardan squeezed her hand once more.

“All is forgiven.”

Wednesday:

Wednesday was harder.

Jude had spent the rest of Tuesday in a blur of calm and care and Cardan, and on Wednesday evening she still felt the de-stressing effects of the spanking she had received, and it positively haunted her.

She felt so disturbed, almost sickened by her own behavior, the things that helped her, the things that she allowed Cardan to do. She felt good and calm and disgusting and pathetic all at once. She hated herself for how much better being hit could make her feel.

Of course, she also resolved to tell Cardan none of this. For all that she hated herself, she appreciated his efforts to help her, and she didn’t want to make him feel as though she thought he was the disgusting or depraved one.

When she reached his chambers, Cardan was in a good mood, and Jude resolved to pretend that she was, as well.

“How are you feeling today, Jude?” he asked, as if he knew.

“Relaxed. Calmer than I was yesterday.”

Cardan was, of course, instantly aware from the tone of her voice and the way she averted her eyes as she spoke that something was wrong. However, if Jude wanted to pretend that everything was fine, he wouldn’t stop her. Yet.

“Join me in bed, dear Jude,” he said, as soon as she entered the room.

Obediently, Jude walked to the bed and climbed in beside him, stretching out on her side to face him.

“Kiss me,” he ordered, an attempt to keep things light until he could figure out what had gone wrong between the morning and the evening.

Jude kissed him, but she still seemed distant, reserved. She didn’t deepen the kiss, merely let him guide it, which normally would have been a good sign, but now…

“Did you enjoy your spanking yesterday?”

Cardan knew he had hit the mark when he saw the agony flash through her eyes, but she quickly covered it, schooling her face into a mask of emotionlessness.

“Of course, My Lord,” she replied, nearly robotic.

“Can you still feel it?”

“Yes.”

“Does that turn you on?”

Jude was silent for a moment.

“Yes,” she whispered, and he could see the self-hatred in her eyes.

“Take off your clothes, Jude.” Cardan’s mind was whirring, trying to figure out how he could get to the bottom of what was wrong without causing Jude to shut down or leave.

Jude stood and stripped obediently before climbing back into bed.

“Should I blindfold you, Jude? Should I tie you up and play with you? Whip you? Wouldn’t you like that?” He ran his hands down her sides, around her back. “Wouldn’t that turn you on, my—“

“Locke.” The word, the word to make Cardan stop, stunned even Jude as she spoke it, and Cardan paled as he realized that something was far more wrong than he had suspected.

“Darling,” he began, but Jude was already pushing herself from the bed.

“I should go. I should—“

“No, Jude,” he said, in the most commanding voice he could muster. “I told you that when you said that word, I would make sure you were okay before we continued. That is what I will do. Get back in bed.”

Reluctantly, Jude returned to the bed, lying down to face away from Cardan.

He placed a hand on her hip, stroked gentle circles on the skin there.

“You’re upset about yesterday.” It was more of a statement than a question, but Jude answered anyway.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Did I hurt you too badly?”

“No, My Lord,” she murmured. “It wasn’t you.”

“Tell me, dearest,” he said, gently, coaxingly.

Jude swallowed hard.

“I’m ashamed,” she whispered, “so very ashamed of the way you make me feel. The things I enjoy. The things that help me. Something is wrong with me. I’m sick. Am I disgusting, Cardan? For liking these things?”

Cardan continued to trace soft patterns on her hip. “No, Jude,” he murmured. “No, my lovely queen. You could never be disgusting, nor are you sick. I proposed this arrangement because I knew it would help you, and I believe it has, am I wrong?”

“No, My Lord.”

“I did not think so. And why, if this helps you, if it makes you feel good, would it be wrong? Why would you have caused to be ashamed of an arrangement that hurts no one and helps the both of us?”

“It hurts me sometimes,” she muttered, and he chose to ignore her snark, although he was glad she felt up to impertinence.

“Jude, you have no cause for shame. No cause for hating yourself for something that improves your life and mine. I hope you can not only realize that, but convince yourself of its truth.”

Jude finally rolled to face him, took his hand in hers.

“I’m sorry I used my word,” she said, bringing his hand to her lips and kissing it gently.

“Never,” Cardan said, voice strict but gentle, “never apologize for that. The words are there for you to use them any time you need to. I want you always to feel comfortable saying them so that I know when I need to stop.”

Jude gave Cardan a tired smile. “Thank you.”

Cardan brought a hand up to run through her hair, loose and spread out on the bed.

“Always.”

Thursday:

On Thursday, Cardan was the one under stress. He had been procrastinating signing all of the documents Jude had delegated to him, and now was overwhelmed. Jude offered, repeatedly and with great fervor, to just do them all herself, but Cardan wanted to prove that he was no longer the lazy boy king Elfhame viewed him as. He wanted to prove that he was responsible, and that he would not let the burden of a kingdom rest on Jude’s shoulders alone.

Still — he had determined that his stress would not keep him from making Jude a little more desperate, especially as the week grew near to a close.

As soon as she entered his chambers, having been summoned by a messenger, Jude crossed to Cardan and leaned down to where he sat, kissing him thoroughly.

“Someone is in a good mood today, hmm?” he asked when she finally pulled away.

“Someone is ready for this week to be over,” she replied.

“Unfortunately, Jude, I still have two more days of torment in store for you. I need to finish these documents, because I plan to spend the entirety of tomorrow and of Saturday devoted to you entirely. For now, though, I want you on the bed, naked, legs spread wide for me so that I can see what I wish.”

Unhurried, Jude stripped herself of her clothes and spread out on the bed, spreading her legs before Cardan so that any time he turned from the desk he would see her.

“And now?”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“And now, My Lord?” she corrected, but her tone was dripping with sarcasm. Cardan frowned.

“I don’t have time to punish you right now, Jude, as much as you seem to want it. Do try to behave. And to answer your question, I want you to touch yourself, but you are utterly forbidden from coming. Do nothing more than tease.”

Jude ran her hands down her body, but found herself desperate to be disobedient, to distract Cardan. She knew she couldn’t come, because the punishment for that was sure to be more severe than she was prepared for, but surely she could do something to distract him.

As Jude began to touch herself, she played up her reactions, moaning loudly and writhing on the bed, for once uncaring about how she sounded. She had felt better about their arrangement since Cardan’s comfort the day before, and now she felt far less ashamed about the enjoyment she derived from it all.

“Jude,” Cardan said after a while of this. “You’re being quite distracting.”

Jude grinned up at him. “Oh, am I?”

Cardan raised an eyebrow. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

Jude’s smile didn’t falter. “I would never do such a thing.”

With that, Cardan rose from his chair and stalked over to her. Finally, she stopped smiling and swallowed hard in anticipation.

It was Cardan’s turn to smile.

“What have I said, dear Jude, about lying?”

“That I shouldn’t?”

Cardan slapped her. The slap wasn’t hard at all, but it surprised her into gasping.

“My Lord,” she added, realizing why she was being punished.

Suddenly, Cardan walked away. When he returned to the side of a bewildered Jude, he held two lengths of rope.

Cardan made quick work of tying Jude’s hands to the bedpost before leaving once more and returning with something new, clearly purchased on his trip to the mortal sex shop. Attached to a handle were many long strips of leather, or something that looked like it. Jude thought that it looked painful and began to regret her efforts to get any sort of attention from Cardan, good or bad.

“Don’t try to turn away from me, or I’ll tie your legs as well,” was all he said before he slapped her in the stomach with the implement. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as she had anticipated, but as he continued to rain blows down on her stomach, thighs, and chest, she began to feel the sting. When the tip of one of the strands connected directly with her nipple, Jude cried out, and Cardan delivered a wicked grin.

“That’s what I want to hear,” he said. “Do you know why I’m flogging you, Jude?”

“Because I distracted you, My Lord.”

“That’s right. What should I be doing right now?”

“Working, My Lord.”

“Another correct answer. Someone has realized the error of her ways.”

Jude kept her legs spread and didn’t twist away from the flogger, even when it took all of her willpower not to. Luckily, Jude had considerable willpower.

Finally, the blows ceased, and Cardan leaned down to press a kiss to the top of one of Jude’s breasts, the area which had gotten the worst of the flogging.

“Can I get back to work now, Jude?”

Jude, not really in pain but thoroughly chastised, lowered her head.

“Yes, My Lord. I’m sorry.”

Cardan didn’t believe for one second that she wasn’t happy to have gotten his attention, but he accepted the apology anyway, stroked her hair in approval.

“Good girl.”

Friday:

Friday was the final day before Jude was allowed to come, and she had never been so desperate. All she thought about was when, how, where he would touch her, and she went through the weeks since their arrangement had begun over and over in her mind, fueling her own fantasies, making her even more desperate.

Cardan had ordered her to report to his room the moment she awoke, and so she did, arriving shortly before the sun was supposed to set.

Cardan was sitting on the bed naked when she entered, legs spread and back against the wall, and he was reading. Jude took a moment to simply stare at him.

“Jude!” he said when he noticed her. “I’m glad you’re here. Come, won’t you join me in a state of undress?” He winked, and Jude was glad that he was in a good mood. Maybe it meant he would be lenient today, not be overly cruel in his continued torment.

Jude took off her clothes as instructed and joined him on the bed. She tried to sit beside him, but he pulled her closer until she sat between his spread legs, his book in front of her.

“I’m going to read, Jude. Keep your legs spread for me.”

Jude knew, in that moment, that there was very little chance of Cardan going easy on the torment on this last day before she was allowed to orgasm.

Indeed, as he read, Cardan did torment Jude. He would bring her right to the edge of coming, then stop to turn a page, stretch, run a hand through his hair. Jude had never been more aroused as when he stopped right as the words “I’m coming” were on her lips and instead played with her nipples, tugging and rolling them between his fingers. She almost came from that stimulation alone, but could not.

The whole time, he was silent, apparently intent on his book. Jude tried several times to read along with him, but found it impossible as all her focus was going towards keeping herself from begging him to let her come, or at least to stop torturing her.

After he had not touched her for about five minutes, his hand came down to rub the lightest circles imaginable around her clit. She couldn’t even imagine coming from this level of stimulation, which was the most frustrating part of all, and he kept it up minute after minute, nothing but the softest circles on her most sensitive area.

Jude’s head felt back against Cardan’s shoulder in frustration and arousal.

“Cardan,” she moaned. “I need…”

“I know what you need, Jude, and I know what you’re going to get.”

That effectively ended the conversation, and Jude simply allowed him to cause her further agony.

Suddenly, he stopped. “I tire of this. Up and on your knees.”

She hurried to obey, rising from the bed before dropping to her knees beside it. Cardan moved to stand before her.

“You know what to do, sweet Jude. But remember that I am in control.”

Jude took him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him just once before she felt his hand in her hair.

“Stay still, Jude. Don’t move.”

She obeyed, confused, but understood as he began to thrust into her mouth. She nearly gagged, but stopped herself, wanting to be as good as she could for him. She had never felt so utterly used. It was as delightful as it was depraved.

“Jude — you’re incredible,” he groaned out, thrusting harder into her mouth and pulling hard on her hair.

Jude tried something new with her tongue, circling it around him as he withdrew, and he groaned in pleasure before withdrawing from her mouth completely.

“On the bed. Now.” His tone left no room for disobedience, so Jude stood and lay sideways across the bed, spreading her legs for him.

Cardan pushed inside her quickly and easily, considering how wet she still was from his teasing. Jude threw her head back in pleasure, unable to believe how good it felt to be fucked while this wanting.

“Don’t come,” he gritted out before starting to pound into her. By the time he came, Jude was so close to orgasm that she had begun to suspect she wouldn’t make it. She did, though, and lay in agonizing arousal while he rolled away to lay beside her.

Several minutes later, he took her hand lightly.

“One more day, darling.”

One more day.

Saturday:

The moment Jude woke up on Saturday, her plan was to rush to Cardan’s chambers and demand an orgasm. Unfortunately, things did not go according to Jude’s plan.

First, a messenger arrived at the door to announce that her presence was requested in a meeting. Jude groaned but dressed hurriedly and attended. Cardan was at the meeting as well, and she could see in his eyes how much he was enjoying the knowledge of her suffering.

It only made her wetter.

When the meeting ended hours later, Jude was informed that a pressing murder case needed to be brought before the King and Queen. She nearly groaned audibly, and Cardan only grinned, much to the dismay and confusion of the messenger informing them.

By the time they had heard the case, people were arriving in the throne room to drink and dance, and there was no easy escape for the king and queen — not that the king was trying particularly hard to leave.

Finally — finally — Cardan stretched, yawned, and announced that he was retiring early and that he would be ever so grateful if his queen would join him.

Jude literally jumped from the throne in excitement.

As they walked back to Cardan’s chambers, he leaned in to whisper, “should I tease you tonight, dear Jude?”

Jude shook her head frantically, eyes pleading.

Cardan laughed.

“I’m joking, Jude. You’ve earned this.”

When they reached his chambers, Cardan lifted Jude at the waist and threw her backward onto the bed. Jude was still laughing when Cardan leaned over her, grinning, and began to divest her of the dress she was wearing. Jude sighed in pleasure and anticipation of what was to come.

When Cardan finished removing Jude’s clothes and chastising her once more for her choice to wear a bra, he moved his fingers immediately to her entrance and sank two inside her. She moaned and bucked against them, hopelessly desperate by now, and Cardan smiled softly down at her.

“I’ll make this good for you, Jude,” he said quietly. “Do you trust me?”

Jude didn’t know why she would need trust for this part of the week more than others, but she nodded, then said, “yes, My Lord. I trust you.”

“Good girl,” he said, before fucking her with his fingers in earnest, a thumb coming up to rub her clit.

It was not long at all before Jude was at the edge again, crying out, asking if she was allowed to come. Suddenly, she felt Cardan’s hand around her neck, squeezing tightly at its sides. Her eyes grew wide and she gasped for breath as she stared up at him.

“Come, Jude,” he ordered, and she did, hard and fast and seeing stars. It was the best orgasm she had ever experienced, almost too powerful, and she cried out in pleasure. When she came down from the orgasm and Cardan released her throat, she felt woozy, more from coming than from a lack of oxygen. She realized that he hadn’t really been blocking her ability to breathe, simply giving her the sensation of being choked.

Cardan didn’t stop when she came, merely gave her a moment of reprieve before beginning again, stroking her clit and curling his fingers inside her until she came again, this time moaning and whimpering, grasping Cardan’s hand with hers.

This time, Cardan stopped when she said “too much,” when the stimulation overwhelmed her, and moved to lay beside her, pulling her into his arms.

“Sweet, beautiful Jude. Are you satisfied?”

Jude, still breathing heavily, could feel every beat of her heart in her chest.

“Yes, My Lord. Yes, I’m satisfied. Thank you. Thank you.”

Cardan smiled down at her. “You’re welcome, darling.”

And Cardan, as he stared down into Jude’s beautiful brown eyes, had a terrible, wonderful, horrifying realization.

He loved her.

#jurdan fanfic #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #my fic #tfota #the folk of the air #tcp #the cruel prince #twk #the wicked king #judecardan #jude x cardan #cardan x jude #My posts

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badchoicesposts · 5 years

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Don’t Dream It’s Over Chapter 15

Series Summary: Liam and Ali thought that their relationship was perfect, but their whole world came crashing down when Constantine called him back to Cordonia. Four years later they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party, determined to make things between them work even if it isn’t always easy.

In this AU, Liam and MC (Ali Moonessar) dated for a year in New York while Leo was still crown prince. They broke up when Constantine asked Liam to come back to Cordonia, but they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party before the social season. The story will contain flashbacks, which will be italicized, of their relationship and follow them as they try to navigate the season with Ali as a suitor. I’ve messed around with the timeline a bit so that it fits the story better. I’ve also added in a few OCs of my own.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Ali Moonessar) Platonic!Drake x MC

DISCLAIMER: I’ve changed up the timeline of the social season a bit to fit my story better. I’ve based it off of some research I did on the British Social Season. Some of the dialogue was taken directly from Book 1 of The Royal Romance but was changed a bit to fit my fic.

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @ao719, @kingliam2019, @emceesynonymroll, @hopefulmoonobject, @dcbbw, @qammh-blog, @liamxs-world, @drakesensworld, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @lauradowning29, @texaskitten30, @senseofduties, @indiacater, @alexintheskyy, @jared2612

A/N: This is my first time ever posting a fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to read more. I thrive on validation, lol. Thanks for reading!

Catch Up: Masterlist

“Are you watching The Notebook?” Ali asked, walking into Liam and Drake’s living room.

“What? No! What are you doing here?” Drake asked, hastily jumping up from his spot on the couch and turning off the tv.

“I’m meeting Liam. He told me to let myself in. I would have knocked if I had known you’d be here,” Ali said, an amused smile on her face.

“Stop smiling like that. I wasn’t watching The Notebook,” Drake said defensively, crossing his arms over his chest and squaring his shoulders.

Ali bit back a laugh and wandered over to the couch, sitting down and snatching the remote from his hand. She turned the TV back on and sure enough, the same movie he denied watching continued to play.

“You know I’ve never actually seen this movie,” she said, pulling her feet up beneath her and leaning back into the couch.

“You’ve never seen this movie?” he asked incredulously.

Ali raised her brows at him in amusement.

“I mean, how can you not have seen this movie? Even I’ve seen this movie. I’ve, uhhh, dated women who liked it,” he tried to say nonchalantly, sitting down on the couch next to her.

Ali laughed, earning herself a glare from the man.

“Oh, relax. I won’t tell anyone that you like The Notebook,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her but didn’t speak, turning to face the TV once again.

“I really haven’t seen this movie before, though,” she said, honestly.

Drake had just begun to explain the movie to her, she didn’t want to tell him that she knew the premise even though she hadn’t seen it before, when they heard the door to the apartment open and close quietly. They shared a confused look as they heard Liam muttering softly as if he were speaking to a baby.

He walked into the living room, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. His suit jacket was bundled up in his arms, and he was smiling down at it.

“Have you finally lost your mind?” Drake asked, taking in the seemingly unprovoked happy look on his friend’s face.

“Yeah, what are you looking at?” Ali asked, getting up from the couch and walking over to Liam.

“I found him on the way home. I couldn’t just leave him on the street,” Liam said as Ali pulled back the jacket to reveal a small brown puppy that was about the size of his hand.

“Awww, he’s so small,” Ali said, placing her hand next to the dog’s nose so that he could sniff it.

He hesitantly pushed his nose against her skin before licking her fingers happily.

“You brought home a puppy?” Drake asked, shocked.

Ali moved her hands up to scratch behind the dog’s ears.

“He was a stray, and he was so young. I didn’t want to just leave him,” Liam said, smiling down at Ali.

She pulled the dog out of Liam’s arms and held him tightly to her chest. He had begun to wag his tail excitedly, craning his neck to lick her face.

“Leo and I always wanted a dog growing up, but our father never let us have one,” Liam said, scratching its back.

“You don’t know how to take care of a dog,” Drake stated.

“But, you do,” Liam said back, looking at Drake hopefully.

The two of them seemed to have a silent conversation.

“We can keep him until we find a home for it,” Drake said.

Liam sighed, disappointed but resigned to the fact that they wouldn’t be able to properly care for the animal. He hadn’t mentioned it to Ali yet because nothing was certain, but his father was struggling with Leo and there had been talks of Liam having to return home.

He looked over to her once again, smiling at how she cared for the animal. She had moved back over to the couch, the puppy sleeping soundly in her lap as she gently ran her fingers across his spine. He wanted to give her the world, a happy ending, but it was seeming harder and harder to do that every day.

~~~

“What does sailing in a boat race have to do with making a good queen?” Ali whined, as she and Bertrand walked down the marina towards the boat she was supposed to be sailing for the Royal Regatta.

The Regatta was the one event she had been dreading since the beginning of the social season. She hated boats and was prone to motion sickness.

“Anytime a social season involves picking a royal bride, the first race in the Regatta is traditionally one that all of the suitors participate in. It’s mostly for show really,” Bertrand answered.

“At least that means there’s no pressure to win,” Ali said, letting out a relieved breath.

“Oh, there’s pressure. The Regatta is one of King Constantine’s favorite events. He bestows an honor upon the woman who wins the ceremonial race, so it’s an opportunity to get in his good graces,” Bertrand said.

Ali made eye contact with Liam through the throngs of people on the marina, and he smiled before approaching them. Bertrand quickly excused himself as Liam got closer.

“It’s lovely to see you. It must be by some strange coincidence that we keep showing up at the same events,” Liam said flirtatiously, kissing the back of her hand.

“Yeah, so strange. It’s like the universe is trying to tell us something,” she said sarcastically.

Liam shook his head good-naturedly at her comment.

“How are you feeling about today?” he asked.

“Do you mean about getting on a boat, or having to win a race to impress you father?” she asked.

“I know you’re not very fond of boats, but the Regatta is more than just a race. Cordonia doesn’t have many glorious battles in its history, but we do have a defining moment. When a storm ravaged our neighbors across the sea, Cordonians responded by manning every available boat to bring humanitarian supplies to the devastated area. It was one of our finest moments. It symbolizes the generosity of Cordonians, and the strong bonds we’ve forged with our neighbors,” he explained.

“That’s very noble. I guess I should be honored to participate,” she said.

She felt a little guilty about her earlier complaining, but she was still sure that nothing could fully change her opinion of boats.

“It’s alright that you’re not excited about this. I understand your aversion,” he said, a small frown tugging at the corner of his lips.

Liam had previously told her the story of how he had almost drowned while sailing with Drake as a child, but she had forgotten it in the midst of her dread. She placed a comforting hand on his arm.

“My father loves this event so much that I still haven’t found the courage to tell my him that I hate sailing.”

“Liam, your father loves you. That’s not going to change if you tell him the truth.”

Liam opened his mouth to speak but struggled with his words. He was spared having to figure out what to say, however, as Constantine made his way onto a raised platform a few feet away from them.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Cordonia, I welcome you all!” Constantine began. “Today is a momentous day. As you know, I have a soft spot for the Royal Regatta, and it remains one of my favorite events of the social season. Because this event has always held historical significance and personal importance, I have chosen today to make my announcement.”

The press began to bustle and whisper excitedly amongst themselves, all eager to hear the king’s surprise announcement.

“At the end of this social season I will be stepping down as your reigning monarch, and in a few months’ time, Prince Liam will be your new king,” he said, smiling widely.

Ali gasped softly, grateful that Liam was the only one close enough to hear her. Liam stood beside her with his mouth hanging open, obviously surprised himself. The press began to speak rapidly, shouting questions at their king. However, Constantine quickly quieted them with a raise of his hand.

“I expect you all to have questions. I promise you in due time I’ll release an official statement. For today, allow an old man time to enjoy the festivities. Let the Regatta begin!” he said, with a hearty laugh.

Liam gripped onto Ali’s hand tightly. To everyone else he looked normal, but she could tell that he was upset by the way he was repeatedly clenching and unclenching his jaw. She squeezed his hand back and led him farther away from the crowd.

“Liam, hey, look at me,” she said soothingly. “Just breathe for a second.”

He followed her instructions and finally calmed down.

“Are you okay now?” she asked, and he nodded in response. “I’m assuming by that reaction you had no idea he was going to do this.”

“No, I didn’t. He never mentioned it to me, and he usually keeps my counsel on all matters.”

“Why wouldn’t he tell you about this?”

“I don’t know. I never expected to have to take the throne this early. In a matter of months I’m going to be king. This must be why he’s been so insistent on my finding the right wife. The person I chose will have to take the throne immediately,” he responded, saying the last part more to himself than to her.

“He’s been insistent? More so than usual?” Ali asked.

This was the first that she had heard about this. She knew that Constantine and Regina wanted Liam to find someone who would make a good queen, but she had always thought it was nothing more than parents trying to advise their child.

Liam nodded and was about to speak, when a few members of the press approached them. The reporter Ali had met at the Derby, Donald Brine, stepped the closest to them.

“We’ll talk later,” Liam whispered in her ear as they turned towards him.

“Your Highness, a few questions please?” the man asked.

“Of course,” Liam said, straightening his spine and putting on an easy smile.

He was once again the strong and stoic Prince Liam of Cordonia.

“The king’s announcement was quite a surprise! What did you think of it and when did you find out?”

“As much as I’d wish to answer, my father has made it clear that he will issue a statement later. For now, I can’t comment,” Liam responded, not one crack in his facade.

“If you can’t talk about the announcement, we’ll have to talk about something else. You’re looking awfully friendly with Lady Alison. What’s the real connection between you two?” he asked, causing Ali to blush.

“Lady Alison and I are two old friends who care for each other and are still getting reacquainted after some time apart,” he said, staying true to the story she had told the press when she spoke with them.

Liam’s smile was now radiant and more genuine than the one he usually put on for the cameras.

“And the allegations of her having a relationship with Drake Walker hasn’t affected anything between the two of you?” Donald Brine asked.

“Lady Alison and Drake Walker have been friends for years, and I trust them both completely. I have no reason to believe that their relationship is anything but platonic,” Liam said without so much as a second thought.

The reporters seemed excited at this.

“What about you, Lady Alison. Do you think the allegations have affected your relationship with Prince Liam?”

Ali smiled as Liam’s fingers brushed against hers momentarily.

“Actually, I think it has,” she began, surprising everyone with her words. “I think it’s made our relationship stronger. It enforced that trust is important in any relationship, especially one that is always in the public eye. People are going to speculate about things that they see, but what’s important is that you trust in each other and remember that at the end of the day, no one knows your own relationship better than you do.”

“I actually don’t believe I could have said it better myself,” Liam said, smiling down at her.

“How do you think you’re faring in the competition for his hand?”

“I don’t think it’ll shock anyone to hear that Liam and I care for each other a great deal. But, there are several other women here for him as well, and I know at the end of the day he’ll choose the person he believes is best for both him and Cordonia.”

“How are you feeling after King Constantine’s news today? Do you think you have what it takes to be Cordonia’s next queen?”

Ali took a breath, a confident smile on her face.

“Cordonia is my home now. Regardless of what happens at the end of the social season, I can’t picture ever living anywhere else. I believe that it has a bright future ahead of it, and I would be honored to lead it into that. But, like I said, at the end of the day, I completely trust Prince Liam to make the decision he believes is best for both him and his country.”

“Lady Alison, surely you’re aware of the significance of the Royal Regatta. Do you have anything to say on this momentous day about it?” Ana de Luca asked, stepping up next to Donald Brine and finally changing the subject.

Ali had to keep herself from sighing in relief that Liam had taken the time to explain it to her.

“Of course. The Regatta is symbolic of Cordonia’s generous spirit. The people’s effort to give humanitarian aid and relief is truly inspiring and I believe it represents Cordonia’s interconnectedness with neighbors,” she said.

“Well-put,” Liam said, smiling down at her proudly.

“I agree,” said Ana de Luca.

Before they could question her any further Liam spoke up, telling them that it was time for her to get to the starting line. She gave him a quick smile, and hurried off to meet Maxwell and Bertrand by the boat. As she approached gate B, she saw Maxwell waving down at her from a large yacht.

“Drake? What are you doing here?” she asked as she boarded the vessel.

“Ask him,” he replied, nodding his head in Maxwell’s direction.

“Well... “ Maxwell began, drawing out the word. “Bertrand hired a crew to sail the boat like all of the other ladies did, but they backed out at the last minute. Something about not being paid upfront. But, Drake volunteered to help us out!”

“Ha, more like he begged me to help you out,” Drake said.

“I thought I was rather dignified,” Maxwell said.

“Practically in tears, actually.”

Ali let out a laugh. She could definitely picture that conversation.

“So, are we really going to be able to do this by ourselves?” she asked.

“Yeah, but you’ll have to do some heavy lifting. You’re not going to be able to just sit and cruise around like the other ladies,” Drake said.

“I don’t know anything about sailing,” Ali confessed.

“Just do what I tell you to do,” Drake said, tying the last rope inside the boat.

He quickly unfurled the sails and steered the vessel to the starting line just in time to see Constantine appear on an elevated platform with Liam on one side of him and Regina on the other. He was holding a pistol above his head, and Ali didn’t think she had ever seen him look happier.

“Racers, ready?” he said before pulling the trigger. “And go!”

The sails on all of the boats unfurled and Ali felt a lurch in her stomach as the yacht began moving forward.

The race itself passed by in a blur as Ali watched the wind indicator and did her best to refrain from throwing up over the side of the boat. She did everything that Maxwell and Drake instructed her to and was surprised to see their yacht take first place.

“We did it!” Maxwell exclaimed as they returned to the harbor where they could see Constantine and Liam applauding their victory.

“Yeah, you really pulled through for us, Moonessar!” Drake said happily.

Ali nodded, a strained smile on her face as she desperately tried to keep down her breakfast.

Maxwell helped her off of the yacht and walked her over to where the king and prince were waiting to greet them.

“Congratulations, Lady Alison. That was some impressive sailing out there,” Constantine said.

“I can’t take all of the credit, sir. Just most of it,” Ali joked, causing Constantine to laugh heartily.

“This girl has a sense of humor, Liam,” he commented.

“I know, father.”

“Lady Alison, I commend you and your crew. Please enjoy the rest of the festivities,” Constantine said before walking away.

Ali made sure he was far enough away before running to a more secluded area of the harbor and throwing up in a small patch of grass.

“God, I hate boats,” she moaned out miserably, straightening up as Liam gently rubbed her back.

“You probably won’t be too thrilled to hear that you have to attend a party on the Nevrakis’ yacht now,” Liam said in an apologetic tone.

Ali gave him a look of despair and leaned into his arms as he smiled down at her sympathetically. The last thing she wanted right now was to get on another boat. However, she reminded herself that if she were to become queen, she would need to get used to attending events she didn’t want to go to.

#the royal romance #the royal heir #trr #trh #liam x mc #the royal romance fic #trr fic #liam x mc fic #liam #king liam #my fics #drake walker #drake x mc #choices #choices fics #playchoices #playchoices fic

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amehanaaa · 5 years

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How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days

Second to last chapter, woot woot! June seriously went by too fast. Nobody can stop her.

I honestly would like to do Nalu Week next week, but honestly, I have no inspiration to do anything right now... soo, I’ll update y’all on what’s going on lol.

Anyway, I hope you all have been having a grand time reading this story! See you next time with the final chapter! (Also can be read here.)

Chapter 8 – Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 Words: 4630 Summary: Lucy and Natsu are determined to take the necessary steps to fulfill their lifetime dreams. Little do they know, they have both given themselves 10 days to achieve it.

It’s an out-of-body experience for Lucy to say goodbye to Natsu’s family the next morning. She makes sure that she doesn’t say see you later or make any future plans with them. As Grandeeny gives her one last hug, Lucy tries her best to hang onto the feeling of her gentle warmth.

As they settle onto the bike, she finds the family waving from the front door.

“Thank you for everything!” she calls out.

Natsu pretends to grab all the kisses that Wendy blows to him. “See you guys soon!”

Lucy physically has to tear her eyes away from the house as they drive away. A pit in her stomach is beginning to develop again.

Today is their ninth day together.

Again, she is thankful for the deafening wind as they return to central Magnolia. She desperately wants everything about the experiment to just go into the trash; she wants to pretend like it wasn’t happening in the first place.

And yet, there is still a sentiment inside of her that won’t allow her to come clean.

Soon enough, the streets become narrower and Lucy starts to recognize street names again. The skyscrapers come into view—they’ve officially returned to the city and the reality of their lives.

“Want to get breakfast?” Natsu suggests as they stop at an intersection.

“I should probably get back,” she admits. She senses his shoulders slump, but she ignores it.

“Well, I know of another good place we can go to next time,” he responds.

Lucy swallows thickly, a knot forming in her throat. In reality, next time doesn’t seem too promising after tomorrow. She feels as though the knot is going to leap out of her mouth as he brings her to her apartment complex.

“I’d say our quality time was definitely a success,” Natsu says.

Once he parks, Lucy hops off the bike and hurriedly makes her way up the front steps.

“Hey, wait up,” he tells her as he shifts the gears into park.

Lucy stops after the first set of stairs. She turns around to see him following after her. He stands at a few stairs below her, which makes their heights match.

“I have to go to the station for a bit.” Natsu takes her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “But you should come to my place tonight.”

“Okay,” she nods, not wanting to talk about tomorrow just yet.

“And tomorrow,” he adds. “Fairy Tail is going to have live music and free food. We should go.”

Lucy has to hold back her wince, but she also notices there’s an unfamiliar tone in his voice. For the first time ever, it sounds like he is nervous.

“Okay, let’s go together,” she responds.

Natsu notices a shadow of sadness in her voice. He braces himself for what he has prepared to say next. He squeezes her hands in his.

“I want you to come with me as my girlfriend.”

An unexpected smile forms onto Lucy’s lips. “Are you calling me your girlfriend?”

Natsu can’t help but smile back. “Yeah, I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“Tomorrow will be the tenth day that we have been seeing each other, right?” she mentions.

There’s a pang in both of their chests at her words. Neither of them can figure out why there are obvious swirls of emotions in each other’s eyes.

“Maybe after tomorrow, we’ll know,” Lucy eventually states. “I have to run some errands today, but I’ll try to stop by your place.”

Before Natsu can get out any words, she gives him a kiss on the cheek. With that, she spins around and hastily enters the building.

Natsu watches her for a few moments, but doesn’t hesitate to take out his phone. He texts Gray that he needs to talk to him as soon as possible.

Not allowing herself to look back, Lucy’s palms immediately begin to sweat as she enters the elevator. She can’t stop herself from impatiently tapping her foot.

While rushing into her apartment, she releases a loud sigh. She presses her back against the door and shuts her eyes. Perhaps if she does this long enough, the heaviness in her chest would lessen. When she opens her eyes again, she is met with a curious-eyed Levy standing right in front of her.

“Levy, don’t scare me like that!” Lucy proclaims, placing a hand over her heart. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Enough to hear all your weird mumblings,” Levy replies with now gleaming eyes. “How did these past two days go?”

“Terrible,” Lucy responds with another sigh. She pushes herself off the door and slumps onto the couch. “It was terribly perfect.”

“Tell me everything!” Levy exclaims, jumping onto the couch with her.

Lucy runs a hand through her hair. She bites her lip as she processes her thoughts—the more she thinks about it, the more she realizes going to Natsu’s home really was perfect. There isn’t anything that went wrong these past two days.

“I’m going to try and repeal my article,” Lucy blurts out.

Levy gapes at her, slowly shaking her head in disbelief. “Are you sure your boss will let you?”

“I’m going to try,” Lucy says firmly. “I can’t do this article anymore. It’s going to drive me crazy.”

Levy stares at her friend. She can’t stop herself from asking the obvious. “Do you think you’ve fallen for Natsu?” she asks quietly.

Lucy freezes, not being able to look up at Levy. Instead, all she can muster up is a slow nod. Another lump forms in her throat. The weight of the assignment used to settle in her stomach, then her chest, and now it’s in her throat.

“We’re going to get through this, Lu,” Levy assures her gently.

“H-How?” Lucy questions with a trembling voice. “If Natsu finds out about the article, he won’t want to see me again.”

Levy stays silent at her words. Whether they want to admit it or not, it’s a guarantee that it won’t settle well with Natsu. And as strange as it sounds to say, they don’t know him well enough to predict how he will react.

“My shift starts soon,” Levy eventually speaks again. She stands up from the couch. “What are you going to do now?”

“Natsu wants me to go to his apartment later,” Lucy responds, running her hand through her hair again. “Should I go?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Levy raises a brow. “Spend the time you have left together.”

Now that Lucy can see the ticking clock of their relationship, she realizes how important it is to cherish these final hours with him. She wants to make sure this final night together is worth it.

Once Levy leaves for work, Lucy absentmindedly sits on the couch for several moments. To kill some time, she opens her laptop and stares at her nine days’ worth of notes. She skims through them, hardly believing that she acted this way.

“Why did he stick with me for so long?” Lucy mumbles to herself.

It isn’t until she reads her last few notes when she notices Igneel’s words. She scrolls up to Laxus and what he said. Then, she ends with Makarov revealing that Natsu was invested into the relationship by bringing her to Fairy Tail.

Suddenly, it clicks—the reason why Natsu is so patient with her is that he is committed to her. After suppressing the idea for so long, it slaps Lucy in the face.

Now that her feelings have been added into the mix, she can’t figure out who is going to get hurt the most after all of this.

But she knows the power of a draft. With newfound determination, Lucy types out several scenarios of how tomorrow can go. She isn’t expecting to have at least twenty different scenarios, but it seems like there’s a pattern after each one she writes.

“Maybe this will work,” Lucy mumbles to herself.

She jolts in her spot when she receives a text from Natsu, much earlier than she would have liked to. A sense of panic slowly builds up inside of her every minute. Although she wants to run over to his apartment, she wants to disappear at the same time.

“I’ll bring dinner for us,” she texts him back.

With her plans for tomorrow imprinted in her mind, she gets ready to leave. She stops at a nearby convenience store, purchasing a few instant yakisoba bowls that Natsu snacked on last night. Because she was listening so intently to Grandeeny and Igneel, she didn’t get the chance to try them. She can definitely say it smelled delicious and hot. Just in case, she buys the non-spicy yakisoba for herself.

Lucy knocks on Natsu’s door as she arrives. Her eyes widen when Gray opens the door instead.

“Hi,” he says stiffly, stepping out of the way so she can come inside.

“Hey, Gray,” Lucy replies with a smile.

For some reason, she doesn’t feel as intimidated by him this time. By the expression on his face, he appears to be processing something else. However, what concerns Lucy most is Natsu’s expression.

“Is everything okay?” she asks curiously.

“We were just talking about some stuff.” He pauses, noticing how vague his words sound. “Gray took care of the cat while I was gone, so he was telling me about it.”

Although he sends her a gentle smile, there’s a glimpse of a frown on his lips.

“I’m going to head out now,” Gray states while putting on his shoes.

“You can stay,” Lucy assures him. “I brought over some instant yakisoba.”

“The same yakisoba I ate last night?” Natsu perks up. As Lucy takes out a bowl from the plastic bag, he cracks a grin.

“Sorry, Ice Princess, you can’t stay,” Natsu jumps up from the couch. “Those are just for me and her.”

“Ice Princess?” Lucy laughs out while watching him shove Gray out of the apartment. Once Gray is outside enough to be pushed out by closing the door, Natsu immediately reaches for one of the bowls.

“These are my favorite, Luce. Thanks for buying them.” He smoothly peels the sealed top and fills the bowl with water.

“Do you like them that much?” she asks with amusement as he eagerly pushes the microwave buttons.

“Imagine 16 year old me eating these every time I came back from school,” he responds. “Now imagine that in college, too.”

“College?” she repeats in disbelief. “What makes them so special?”

“They’re probably the spiciest noodles you can buy for a reasonable price,” he explains simply. “Igneel is the only other person I know that can finish a bowl.”

Lucy purses her lips skeptically. She can handle spicy food every once in a while, so she wonders if the yakisoba won’t be as aggressive as the label suggests. She takes a step closer to Natsu when he takes the bowl out of the microwave.

“Do you think you can handle it?” he smirks.

“Let me try,” she replies. Grabbing her pair of chopsticks, she picks up a few strands of noodles.

Her breath is immediately caught in her throat the second they land on her tongue. She coughs loudly, patting her chest at the sudden burn.

“I’ve never seen someone react like that!” Natsu howls out, placing a hand on the counter to hold himself up. “That was hilarious!”

“These are unnecessarily hot!” Lucy proclaims as she quickly swallows them. Her tongue is numb as she hastily pours a cup of milk. Even though they were only a few noodles, she feels as though she can breathe out fire from all the heat.

“They’re not meant for the average,” he remarks. Without a second thought, he slurps on an endless stream of noodles.

“Never again,” she shakes her head. “I’m going to stick with teriyaki.”

It isn’t long until the couple are sitting at the dining table, enjoying their savory bowls. Natsu is in the midst of his second bowl when their cat joins them at the table.

“Have you given him a name yet?” Lucy asks.

“I haven’t,” he realizes aloud. “I’ve never had a pet before. What are some common names?”

“People like to name their pets after emotions,” she replies with a shrug

“How about Sleepy?” he suggests. “He likes to sleep a lot.”

“He doesn’t look like a Sleepy!” she protests, causing Natsu to frown. “Think deeper.”

Natsu gives out a thoughtful hum. His eyes light up when he has a suggestion. “How does Happy sound?”

“That sounds perfect,” Lucy grins. “He makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

“I underestimated the power of a cat,” he admits. “When I go to sleep, he always likes to lie next to me.”

“Aw,” she giggles while reaching over to pet Happy behind the ears.

Tummies full, they comfortably sit back on the couch and flip through some TV channels. Although they have done this plenty of times, Lucy can’t help but feel bittersweet about it. Her chest aches knowing that this will be the last time they spend time together like this.

She glances at him, not being able to hold back her laugh. He lifts a curious brow.

“The yakisoba stained your lips,” she points out. “They’re bright red.”

“That’s when you know the noodles worked.” He smirks at her as he edges forward. “Maybe it’ll be like lipstick if I kiss you.”

“No way!” she exclaims.

She puts her hands out in front of her to prevent him from getting closer, but Natsu hovers over her enough to grasp her arms and hold them down. He leans down and goes for her neck, leaving a light trail of kisses.

Lucy doesn’t bother to resist—even if his lips leave a mark, they’re too addicting to fight back. She can feel the quick pulse in her neck match the pace of his kisses. If her arms weren’t pinned down, she would keep him there forever.

His hold becomes looser as he travels up her neck and to her lips. She slides out of his grip to bring her hands into his hair and gently twirl her fingers through his curls.

There is still a sense of heat on his lips; it’s just enough for her to taste it all. Despite this, their kisses feel fresher than ever. It’s as though their lips have familiarized enough to where they’re reminded of how sweet it is when together.

As their bodies feel to be sinking further into the couch, neither of them take it a step further. Lucy can’t bring herself to start a moment that will cause more long-term damage than temporary satisfaction.

Natsu, on the other hand, hums against her lips before slowly pulling away. She leans back to connect eyes with him. In that moment, as they gaze at each other with hooded eyelids, she is ready to tell him everything.

His breaths say that he wouldn’t get angry, his eyes say that he would understand, his lips say that everything will be okay.

“I have to ask you something.”

“What is it?” Lucy asks carefully.

They begin to shift on the couch, picking themselves up and sitting to face each other. As she takes in Natsu’s serious expression, she wonders if this was what Gray and him were talking about earlier before she interrupted. It couldn’t just be about Gray checking up on Happy, it must have been deeper than that.

“Would you ever move away from Magnolia?” Natsu asks abruptly.

Lucy pauses. “I might if I had a reason to.”

“What if I was your reason?”

She lets out a laugh to mask her surprise. “Why would you be leaving Magnolia?”

His expression doesn’t change. “I’m serious. What if we moved away from Magnolia together?”

The levelness of his voice is slightly intimidating, but she tries to ignore it. “Well, right now I don’t have a reason to,” she answers hesitantly. “But I’ll think about it if the time comes.”

“Okay, think about it,” he responds with a nod. “Just in case.”

“Okay.” She gives him a subtle smile, hoping that it hides the fact that stress is currently building up inside of her.

“I just really needed to get that off my chest,” he admits with a heavy sigh. “Thanks, Luce.”

“Y-You’re welcome,” she slightly stutters. “Any time.”

Now if only she could stay those words to herself. She doesn’t want Natsu to get his hopes up for her and their future together. She knows that he wouldn’t if she just came clean already, but she can’t form the words in her mouth.

“It doesn’t look like the yakisoba stained your lips,” he remarks.

“Maybe we should try again,” she suggests.

They don’t hesitate to lean forward and kiss again. In each other’s arms like this, neither of them would want to be anywhere else.

Meanwhile, Lucy ignores the fact that it’s already past midnight and her final hours with Natsu are dwindling by the second. This is the only temporary satisfaction she is willing to accept.

——————–

As soon as Lucy wakes up the next morning, her body is on autopilot mode. She moves automatically, as though she has rehearsed every step she is going to make today.

The tenth day is finally here.

Whatever happens today, she is ready for it. But knowing that tonight has the potential of becoming a disaster, Lucy can hardly focus on her surroundings. She has to keep a continuous thought stream of self-encouragements or she is going fall apart.

However, the moment she enters her work building, she remembers her mission. Even though she doesn’t have a scheduled appointment, she walks straight into Erza’s office with a chin held high.

“Good morning, Lucy. How is everything?” Erza asks.

“I can’t do this article anymore,” Lucy states firmly.

Erza looks up from her desk, holding a poker face. “What did you say?”

There’s a brief moment of silence as Lucy tries to recollect her thoughts.

“The guy I met, I’ve gotten to know him really well, and—”

“Lucy,” Erza interrupts her sternly. “You are writing the article and that’s final. Your story is already going to be on the cover of the magazine.”

Lucy can’t even imagine how happy those words would have made her if she heard them a week ago. Now, they mean nothing to her.

“Erza, I can’t—”

“But you will. Because you’re a professional journalist, remember?”

Lucy swallows in defeat. All of the scenarios she practiced turned into a two minute, one-sided conversation.

“Yes… I guess I am a professional.”

“I expect the final draft tomorrow morning,” Erza instructs her.

Due to an incoming office call, Lucy has no choice but to leave. Although she doesn’t need to be at work today, she finds herself sinking into her desk chair.

“You don’t look so hot,” Cana says at the neighboring desk, examining her for a moment. “Wait, what happened to you?”

“A disaster,” Lucy mutters. She rubs her eyes, secretly wishing that when she opened them everything would be okay. “I’m going to come clean to Natsu about the article tonight.”

“What?” Cana blurts out incredulously. “Why would you do that?”

“This isn’t fair for him,” Lucy sighs out. “He deserves to know what I did before the article gets published.”

“There’s a chance he may not even read the article,” Cana tries to convince her. “Lucy, I think you’re making a mistake.”

Cana’s words are enough for Lucy to feel sick. Right now, Cana is no different from Erza. Not being able to take it anymore, she stands up from her seat.

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” Lucy tells her shortly before walking away.

She has only taken a step outside when she calls Levy. Impatience bubbles up inside of her after she is sent to voicemail. There is no way that she can be by herself right now, so she doesn’t hesitate to head towards the bakery.

“Levy!” Lucy nearly shouts as she enters the bakery.

Normally, Levy is standing at the front counter with a friendly smile. Today, however, there is no one at the counter.

“Levy?” Lucy asks, softer this time. “Is anyone here?”

She can’t fight her curiosity, allowing it to guide her footsteps. She slowly pushes the door to the back of the bakery while peeking her head in.

Lucy gasps as she catches Levy pressed against a wall, lips smashing against Gajeel’s. Lucy’s noise causes them to promptly jerk away from each other and look at her with wild eyes.

“L-Lu!” Levy squeaks, wiping a hand over her mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“Only employees are allowed in the back,” Gajeel says roughly. Although his voice is harsh, he appears just as flustered as Levy.

“There was no one here when I came,” Lucy counters.

“I was showing her the supplies we’re running out of,” Gajeel explains simply.

“Right,” Lucy replies with an exaggerated nod. “Well, I guess you showed her plenty.”

“Lucy!” Levy proclaims in disbelief. “Just go to the front. I’ll be out in a second.”

Lucy decides to follow her friend’s instruction, returning to the front of the bakery. She stands at the counter and waits for Levy to return. When she does, her darkened cheeks and swollen lips are obvious.

“Is it bad?” Levy whispers, viewing her reflection from the windows and fixing her hair.

“Your hair or making out with your boss while you’re working?” Lucy clarifies.

“Hey!” Levy gapes at her. “What’s up with you? You’re normally not that blunt.”

Lucy sighs while fixing her hair as well. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not feeling too good right now.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to tell Natsu?” Levy asks.

“I’m going to tell him everything,” Lucy reveals with an uneven voice.

Levy gives her friend a sympathetic smile. “It’s going to be hard, but you can do it. I support you, alright?”

There’s a subtle sense of relief inside Lucy, which is enough for now. “Thanks. I tried talking to Erza about the article, but she’s forcing me to publish it.”

“She said you would be recognized for it, right?” Levy questions.

“The article is going to be on the front cover,” Lucy replies, although her voice clearly shows it doesn’t have the same value anymore.

“I’ll be here for you,” Levy assures her gently.

“Me too.” Gajeel joins Levy at the counter. “Who do I need to beat up for you, Lucy?”

Lucy’s phone buzzes with a text from Natsu. She opens it to a picture of the suit he’ll be wearing tonight. With another heavy sigh, she puts her phone back into her pocket.

“It’s me, Gajeel,” Lucy mutters while turning to leave the bakery. “You’re going to have to beat me up.”

Hearing Levy speak out multiple encouragements for tonight, Lucy goes back to her apartment to get dressed for tonight. She isn’t sure how to prepare for a disaster that is predicted to be an entire catastrophe, but the only way to find out is by just going for it.

After getting dressed, there is nothing Lucy has dread more than going to Natsu’s apartment. Her heart skips a beat each time she tries to think of the apologies she wants to tell him. To avoid a heart attack, she decides she is going to wing it.

At the same time, everything hurts.

From the shoes she puts on, because of how her heart will be after all of this, and arriving to Natsu’s apartment building—everything just hurts.

Lucy grips onto the illegally copied key to his apartment as she stands in front of the door. The key is the last item she has of him. Once she gives it back, she truly has no reason to see him again.

Lucy takes several deep breaths to brace herself. There’s no way she will ever feel ready, so she forces herself to insert the key and unlock the door. She quietly opens it, hearing Gray’s voice inside.

“But you did it! I’m so proud of you for finishing the bet. I’ve already shared your name with some of my coworkers.”

Lucy’s body is frozen at his words. Instantly, everything starts connecting in her mind. Natsu wasn’t committed to the relationship—he was committed to a bet.

Outraged is an understatement. Lucy is furious. She clenches her jaw, debating whether it’d be a smart decision to barge inside and demand for answers. But the aching in her chest is too much to ignore. Dropping the key on the floor, she slams the door.

Natsu and Gray jump at the sudden noise. They look at one another as they realize what just happened.

“Natsu, I’m so sorry—”

Natsu doesn’t bother to let Gray finish as he immediately darts out of his apartment. He finds Lucy storming away and pressing the button to the elevator.

“Lucy, hold on,” he tells her.

She whips around, not missing a beat. “You used me so you could get your name spread?”

“You drove me insane for your magazine?” Natsu shoots back.

They stand there for a few moments, both fuming. As they try to recollect their thoughts, they recognize how much they’ve equally blighted each other.

“Gray told you,” Lucy says plainly.

“Yeah, and how I was just some ten-day experiment.”

“And I’m just some girl you picked at random?”

“That doesn’t even compare,” Natsu argues sharply. “I was someone you tested your theories on. Was that why you agreed to meet my grandparents? Was this all just some fantasy story for you?”

Lucy blankly stares at him, knowing that he is aware of how much pain those words could inflict. And how they did.

“Well,” she begins, pressing the elevator button again. “Some kind of friend you have who knew both of our intentions.”

“What are you talking about?” he demands.

“Gray knew everything since the second day. Ask him about it, if it even matters to you.”

The elevator slides open. Lucy steps inside and presses her back against the wall. As they connect eyes, her heart splits into two uneven pieces. She could have never prepared to see the hurt expression on his face.

“Congrats,” Natsu begins while the elevator closes. “Now you know how to lose a guy in ten days.”

Natsu stares at the closed doors, tearing his eyes away before he sees his reflection. He wipes his damp hands across his pants as he returns to his apartment. There, he finds Gray pacing across the living room. Gray turns to him with frantic eyes.

“You knew,” Natsu accuses him before he can say anything. “How long did you know Lucy was using me?”

“I was going to tell you—”

“Did you just want to see me suffer? Did you enjoy seeing me get taken advantage of?”

“That wasn’t my intention, let me—”

“Just go.” Natsu tells him firmly while rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. “I can’t talk to you right now. Give me space.”

Natsu doesn’t watch Gray leave the apartment. Instead, he focuses on holding Happy in his lap as they fall onto the couch.

Natsu’s thoughts are an endless carousel as he connects the pieces to why Lucy was so exhausting throughout their time together. Although that doesn’t explain to him her abrupt shift at his grandparents’ house, he can’t believe that both of them sabotaged each other enough to cause all of this pain towards each other.

“Were you a part of the plan, too?” Natsu mumbles.

Happy meows in response, which brings him to give out a heavy sigh. Everything happened so fast, his body is just now catching up.

And everything just hurts.

#fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #nalu #nalu fanfiction #my writing #wow #time flies #too fast!!!!!#thanks for reading

29 notes · View notes

chippokenabokura · 5 years

Note

Thank you for all your hard work! I've been a fan of your blog for a while now and I'm grateful for how much insight you gave us on World Trigger. I have a question I hope you might have some thoughts on: I was rereading the latest chapter and reached the point where Ema was targeted while he reloads. Why is there a need to reload when they don't use real bullets or a variation of pre-stored trion bullets? I assume it's implied that the trion snipers/shooters use is supplied by trion bodies?

Since I didn’t manage to answer any asks before the new chapters came out, I’m going to answer this one quickly while I post the translations.

According to BBF, sniper rifles use up a large amount of trion in one shot so they cannot rapid fire. I presume it works on a similar premise as Gatorin’s Vasilissa. I hope that makes sense!

World Trigger Ch176 ‘Netsuki Eizou′ & Ch177 ‘Mikumo Osamu 17′ Translation

Panel 2

Usami: Now then

Panel 3

Usami: Our turn’s over; what do you want todo?

Usami: Watch the evening division?Usami: Though it’s not for another 4 and a half hours

Panel 4

Hus: The records can probably be viewed atTamakoma base too right

Yuuma: We’re going to go do some solo rankwars

Panel 1

Chika: I have to go meet Izuho-chan…

Usami: I see, roger that~

Panel 2

Usami: Hus-kun, horns! Be careful!

Hus: I know

*machine whirr*

Panel 3

Usami: Let us know when you’re heading back

Osamu: Then let’s disperse for now!

Panel 5

Usami: Ahhhh~ at any rate…

Panel 1

Usami: It was a good match today~Usami: We earned 6 points against upper tier teams!

Osamu: Yes

Panel 2

Usami: It was worth you working hard to getHus-kun onto the team, Osamu-kun

Osamu: That’s rightOsamu: It went beyond my expectations

Panel 3

Usami: That reminds me

Usami: Did the ‘bad premonition’ youmentioned before we left go away?

Panel 5

Osamu: No…that’sOsamu: The truth is it’s still…

Usami: Ehhhh~? Really?

Panel 1

Usami: I wonder what it could be? Your ‘badpremonition’Usami: Chika-chan looked fine…

Panel 2

Usami: When you had a difference of opinionwith Hus-kunUsami: I thought, will this cause a fight later?Usami: But in the end it doesn’t feel like Hus-kun is dissatisfied with thematch results

Osamu: You’re right…

Panel 3

*ding*

Panel 4

Osamu: A message from Kikuchihara-sempai…

Usami: Oh, what’s it say?

Panel 5

Kikuchihara: Congrats on winning the match. Kikuchihara: You were prettypointless this time.

Panel 1

Osamu: Pointless…

Usami: That Kikucchy, always saying somethingmean…

Panel 2

Osamu: Let’sask Kikuchihara-sempai too

Osamu: Thankyou very much.Osamu: Even though we won the match,for some reason I feel uncertain.Osamu: I wonder what this could be

Panel 3

Kikuchihara: Isn’t it some kind of sad premonition that ‘the new guy is strong so Iwon’t have anything to do’?

Panel 4

Usami: Is it? I don’t think so though

Osamu: Hmmm, I don’t know…

Panel 5

Osamu: Ifthe next opponents are cautious of Hus’s Escudo and choose an outdoors map,Osamu: The wire formation and leadbullet sniping would be effective again, so I think there are still things Ican do…

Panel 1

Kikuchihara: …whatKikuchihara: So he does get it

Utagawa: ?

Panel 2

*flinch*

Panel 3

Kikuchihara: …?

*chatter chatter*

Panel 4

*vibrate*

Usami: Hm? It’s me this time

Panel 5

Usami: Yes, yes, hello

Panel 1

Utagawa: Usami-sempai, good work today

Usami: Good work to you too, Utty. What’swrong?

Panel 2

Utagawa: Sorry, I just wanted to check…

Usami: Check…?

Panel 3

Utagawa: Tamakoma Second’s new member’s identity

Utagawa: It hasn’t been officially released,right?

Panel 4

Usami: Eh…?

Panel 1

Utagawa: According to Kikuchihara, someC-rank agents in the loungeUtagawa: …probably the ones who saw the match just now, I think

Utagawa: It looks like they’re gossipingaboutUtagawa: ‘isn’t Tamakoma’s new member a Neighbour?’…

Panel 2

Usami: Eh!?

Panel 3

Usami: …right!

Usami: Right, got it, thank you!

Panel 4

Osamu: A rumour that ‘Hus is a Neighbour’Osamu: Among the C-ranks…

Panel 1

Osamu:My squad is moving in a good direction

Osamu:The chances of success for the next match shouldn’t be low either…

Panel 2

Osamu: Inbattle, Kuga and Hus are overwhelming the other teams…

Osamu: Andyet…

Panel 3

Osamu: …That’s it

Panel 4

Osamu: That’s what my ‘bad premonition’was!

Osamu: Hus standing out too much was the problem!

Panel 5

Osamu: That’s why, no matter how good thematch was goingOsamu: My ‘bad premonition’ didn’t go away…!

Usami: Ahhh~! I see!

Panel 1

Usami: It’s true he made a big splashagainst the upper tier teams in his debut match

Usami: Is the Neighbour rumour because hisappearance and name looks foreign?Usami: Maybe the fact that we’re the pro-Neighbour faction has something to dowith it too?

Panel 2

Usami: …but what do we do?Usami: I don’t think the ones spreading the rumours have any proof

Usami: But we don’t know what will happenif it spreads further

Osamu: That’s true…

Panel 3

Usami: Might it affect the expeditionselection too?

Usami: I want to think it won’t go as faras Yuuma-kun getting suspected too…

Panel 4

Osamu:If I had made Hus stand out less…

Osamu:…no, that might have made it impossible to get 6 points

Osamu:The match itself should be fine like that…

Panel 1

JIn: Don’tfalter

Panel 2

Osamu:…

Osamu:Right!

Panel 3

Osamu: …either wayOsamu: I have to go for a bit

Osamu: Please contact Hus and the others,Usami-sempai!

Usami: Right, got it!

Panel 4

*flip*

Panel 5

Osamu: …Sorry, Branch Chief Rindou

Osamu: I have a sudden request

Panel 1

BorderHQPublic Relations Department

Panel 2

*knock knock*

Panel 3

*click*

Osamu: …pardon the intrusion!

Panel 4

Netsuki: …You’re here, Mikumo-kun

Panel 1

Netsuki: Branch Chief Rindou has made anappointment

PublicRelations Department ChiefNetsuki Eizou (39)

Panel 2

Azuma: Good work today

B-rankAzuma Squad CaptainAzuma Haruaki (25)

Panel 3

Osamu: Azuma-san…?

Osamu: Thank you for your hard work

Panel 4

Osamu: …sorry to bother you

Osamu: I would like to consult with you regardingan issue with Hus

Panel 5

Netsuki: The matter of the ‘rumour’, Isuppose?

Panel 1

Osamu: …!Osamu: Yes!

Netsuki: I have received the report fromCaptain Kazama

Panel 2

Netsuki: Jeez…Netsuki: This is why I opposed his enlistment…

*sigh*

Panel 3

Netsuke: …and?

Netsuki: What do you propose I do aboutthis?

Panel 4

Osamu: I was thinking if Border HQofficially

Osamu: Refutes the rumours…

Panel 5

Netsuki: Don’t say something so foolish

Panel 1

Netsuki: If we officially react in such a rushto suspicions that are only at the rumour levelNetsuki: It’s as good as saying there’s something to be guilty about

Panel 2

Netsuki: What’s so troublesome about thismatter especially

Netsuki: Is that it’s not a ‘baseless rumour’

Panel 3

Netsuki: As an organisationNetsuki: Announcing a lie to the public for just a temporary measure

Netsuki: I am obliged to say it is too biga risk

Panel 4

Osamu: …!

Netsuki: Well…having said that, we cannotallow the rumours to spread any further either…

Panel 5

Osamu: That’s very true…Osamu: I didn’t consider it deeply enough

Netsuki: Hmph…Netsuki: There is no need to apologise

Panel 1

Netsuki: Tamakoma Second or not

Netsuki: It is our job to protect theorganisation’s reputation

Panel 2

Netsuki: With this matter, for now

Netsuki: We shall deal with it by overwriting the rumour

Panel 3

Osamu: ‘Overwriting’…

Osamu: The rumour…!?

Panel 4

Netsuki: We create and spread a rumour that isNetsuki: More believable than the current one

Netsuki: Is what I’m saying

Panel 5

Netsuki: ‘Tamakoma Second’s Agent Hus is’

Netsuki: ‘Tamakoma Branch’s Chief EngineerCronyn’s relative’Netsuki: ‘And was scouted due to his exceedingly high trion ability’

Panel 1

Netsuki: ‘He has been at Tamakoma branchfor several years’Netsuki: ‘And it was planned for him to be assigned to Tamakoma First afterAgent Jin left’

Netsuki: ‘But as Agent Jin has returned toA-rank’

Netsuki: ‘He has been incorporated intoTamakoma Second instead’

Panel 2

Netsuki: …are the contents of the rumour

Netsuki: We will spread it under CaptainAzuma’s name

Panel 3

Osamu: Under

Osamu: …Azuma-san!?

Panel 4

Netsuki: Do you think we would get anyresults if we spread it under your name?

Panel 5

Netsuki: This time the ‘original rumour’ ismore newsworthy

Tamakoma’sNew Member is a Neighbour!?

Actually Tamakoma’s Teacher’s Pet!

Azuma-san Tells All

Netsuki: Without enough credibility, it wouldn’tbe able to overwrite it, would it?

Panel 1

Osamu: …but doesn’t that mean

Osamu: We will be making Azuma-san telllies…

Panel 2

Azuma: Well, it’s just a ‘rumour’ in theendAzuma: For the time being we are planning on spreading the rumour at tomorrow’sjoint sniper practice…

Panel 3

Azuma: I’ll make the contents a bitambiguous for the collaborators too

Satori:It seems that Azuma-san said…

Hanzaki:According to what SatoKen heard from Azuma-san…

Azuma: And only have them spread it as‘hearsay’

Panel 4

Azuma: If I myself am asked to confirm itAzuma: I will keep the fact that I spread the rumour ambiguous

Azuma:Did I say that?

Azuma:Well, anyway, it fits, probably

Azuma: And just approve the contents

Panel 1

Azuma: If for some reasonAzuma: There’s a need to reveal Hus’s identity to someone at some point

Panel 2

Azuma: The false information spread undermy nameAzuma: Will be explained as being done under Netsuki-san’s orders

Netsuki: IndubitablyNetsuki: It is my responsibility

Panel 3

Netsuki: Of course, we will have Tamakoma’scooperation as wellNetsuki: We must have consistency with what we ‘establish’

Osamu: …

Osamu:Before I arrived, they’ve already…

Panel 4

Osamu:Finished the countermeasures…!

Netsuki: ThenNetsuki: We must get our story straight with the agents who already know Hus’sidentity

Azuma: And the people who know Chief Cronynis a Neighbour

Panel 1

Netsuki: For goodness sakes…with this kindof situationNetsuki: The fewer people involved as possible the better…

*shift*

Panel 2

Netsuki: If the ‘rumour’ spreads outside, it would cause us many moretimes the trouble we have currentlyNetsuki: So if we do not shut the rumour down now…

Osamu: Sorry for taking up your time…

Panel 3

Netsuki: …wellNetsuki: I suppose I need to say that you have made progress

Netsuki: Coming to report this yourselfbefore the problem becomes a big one

Panel 5

Netsuki: I will go summarise the mainpointsNetsuki: Sit and wait for a while

Osamu: Ah, yes!

Panel 6

Osamu: …I am indebted for your help…

Azuma: Ah, well, don’t worry about it

Panel 1

Osamu: …you already knew then, about Hus

Azuma: Those with expedition experiencewill probably notice from the nameAzuma: Since we know Chief Cronyn’s identity

Panel 2

Azuma: It’s a message from Branch ChiefRindou that those in the know will understand

Osamu: I see…

Panel 3

Azuma: …anyway, Mikumo

Osamu: Yes?

Panel 4

Azuma: Is Amatori

Azuma: Alright?

Panel 5

Osamu: …eh?

Panel 1

Osamu: Eh…?

Panel 2

Osamu: ‘Alright’Osamu: What do you…?

Azuma: …no

Azuma: It might not be my place to say

Panel 3

Azuma: But I know someone else like Amatori

Azuma: Who ‘can’t shoot people’

Panel 4

Osamu: …!

Panel 1

Osamu: Are you

Osamu: Talking about…Hatohara-san?

Panel 2

Azuma: What, you already knew?

Osamu: Um…I heard from Reiji-san

Azuma: I see

Panel 3

Azuma: It was on my mind

Azuma: When Hatohara accidently shotsomeone during a rank warAzuma: It was quite bad

Panel 4

Osamu: By bad…Osamu: You mean?

Azuma: She threw upAzuma: And was laid up

Panel 5

Osamu: Eh…!

Azuma: So I was worried about AmatoriAzuma: If she seems fine then it’s all good

Panel 1

Osamu:To receive that much damage…

Osamu:Was she a different type from Chika…?

Panel 2

Osamu: …I had heard that Hatohara-sanOsamu: Was ‘a sniper who only aimed at and destroyed the opponents’ weapons’

Osamu: But was it that badOsamu: Every time she hit someone by accident…?

Panel 3

Azuma: Hm? No…

Panel 4

Azuma: Hatohara has only hit someone once

Azuma: She has never failed except that onetime

Panel 5

Azuma: She trained single-mindedlyAzuma: So that she would never hit aperson

Osamu: …!

Panel 1

Azuma: …well, a sniper shot is differentfrom an explosionAzuma: It might not be a good comparison

Panel 2

Azuma: Think of it as an example of whatcould happenAzuma: And look out for Amatori

Osamu: …right!

Panel 3

Azuma: …but

Azuma: There’re finally only 4 days left…

Osamu: …?Osamu: Yes

Panel 4

Azuma: The press conference

Azuma: Where you said sharply that you will‘go on the expedition’Azuma: Was just a little over a month ago

Panel 1

Osamu: …!

Azuma: That you would actuallyAzuma: Reach the point where you almost have your hands on the qualifications for it

Panel 2

Azuma: When I heardAzuma: ‘This season’s rank wars will end with Round 8’

Azuma: ‘For the expedition selection,B-rank No.2 and above will be considered A-rank’Azuma: From the top brass

Panel 3

Azuma: I thought that, points-wise

Azuma: It might be impossible for youTamakoma Second to reach the selection

Panel 4

Azuma: Have you already devised the means tohave Hus joinAzuma: By that point?

Osamu: Ah…yes

Azuma: That is quite meticulous

Panel 5

Netsuki: With your positionNetsuki: I would like you not to back any specific teamNetsuki: Captain Azuma

*click*

Panel 1

Azuma: I’m not backing anyoneAzuma: I’m just saying how

Azuma: Tamakoma Second is interestingbecause they rose up using different means from the other teams

Netsuki: I don’t think there’s anythinginteresting…

Panel 2

Netsuki: The main points of the plan

Panel 3

Netsuki: Take it back and dispose of itafter it has been sharedNetsuki: Make sure nothing is saved

Osamu: …yes!

Panel 4

Osamu: Thank you very much!

Osamu: I will definitely return this favoursomeday!

Panel 5

Netsuki: It’s not like I need thanks

Netsuki: This is our job from the start

Osamu: No

Panel 1

Osamu: Exposing an agentOsamu: To a problem that could have been predicted

Osamu: Is the mistake of the Captain whogave the order

Panel 4

Osamu: Please excuse me

Panel 5

*click*

*thud*

Netsuki: …

Panel 6

Azuma: So putting aside the ‘reputation ofthe organisation’Azuma: The ‘reputation of Hus’ is his responsibility, huh

Netsuki: …hmphNetsuki: I wonder

Panel 1

Netsuki: If it becomes known that he isusing a talented Neighbour as a mercenaryNetsuki: Mikumo-kun himself will be under fire too

Netsuki: In the end is he not just puttinghis own interests first

Panel 2

Azuma: He isn’t that kind of person

Azuma: According to what I heard fromKazamaAzuma: Before Hus, it seems he tried to get Jin to join his team

Panel 3

Netsuki: …

Netsuki: Huh!?

Panel 4

Netsuki: What the heck!Netsuki: That’s beyond unfair!

Azuma: It’s very shameless

Panel 5

Azuma: Indifferentwhen it comes to himselfAzuma: But burdens himself with otherpeople’s problems…

Azuma: Howunbalanced…

Panel 1

Usami: I see!

Usami: So Netsuki-san will be dealing withit for usUsami: Thank goodness~!

Osamu: Yes

Panel 2

Izuho: I tried to find the source of therumour indirectly

Panel 3

Izuho: But at firstIzuho: It was just

Izuho: ‘What if he’s a Neighbour~’

Panel 4

Izuho: But then ‘I saw him during the LargeScale Invasion’Izuho: ‘Tamakoma’s new member is a Neighbour!’

Izuho: Someone started sayingIzuho: And the rumour really caught fire

Panel 1

Konami: Did that guy really see Hus?

Konami: Not just saying the first thingthat came to their heads for attention?

Izuho: I think that’s probably it

Panel 2

Izuho: My eyes are really good

Izuho: But Hus-sempai was so far away Icouldn’t see his face

Izuho: Even though I noticed Ochibi-sempai byhis hair colour right away

Panel 3

Izuho: Even looking at him now

Izuho: I wouldn’t think he’s the Neighbourfrom that time

Panel 4

Konami: Besides, how would you even

Konami: Come to the conclusion thatKonami: ‘The Neighbour from the Large Scale Invasion has become a Borderagent’?

Hus: Because it’s a rumourHus: As long as it’s provocative, it works

Panel 1

Usami: No, but it’s actually true

Yuuma: Truth is stranger than fiction

Panel 2

Osamu: Well, in any case, we have takenmeasures

Panel 3

Osamu: Make sure you memorise Hus’s‘backstory’Osamu: Then act normally

Chika: Right, got it

Yuuma: Roger

Panel 4

Usami: …oh?

Panel 5

Usami: Our opponents for the final matchhave been decided!

Osamu: …!

Usami: Our next opponents are…

Panel 1

Usami: No.1 Ninomiya squad, No.4 Ikomasquad, and Yuba squad who have risen to No.7

Panel 2

Osamu:Ikoma squad…

Osamu:Ninomiya squad…!

Panel 3

Yuuma: It’ll be our first time going upagainst Yuba squad

Panel 4

Hus: Ikoma…

Ikoma: Sorry

Panel 5

Usami: The rumour issue is worryingUsami: But we need to prepare properly for the match too!

Osamu: …yes!

Panel 1

NextDay

Panel 2

JointSniper Training

Panel 1

BorderHQPublic Relations Department

Azuma: I think we have managed to overwriteit among the C-rank snipers

Panel 2

Azuma: All that’s left isAzuma: How wide the new rumour can spread and…

Panel 3

Azuma: How stubborn the one who said

Azuma: ‘I saw Hus’ is…I believe

Panel 4

Netsuki: Well, I think it’ll be fineNetsuki: But if this is no good

Netsuki: Worst case scenario we will haveto think about using memory sealing measures…

Panel 5

Netsuki: If there are any problems, reportimmediately

Osamu: …understood!

Panel 2

Konami: HmmmKonami: Then it more or less went well, right?

Osamu: …I think so

Osamu: Though we still don’t know whateffect it has yet

Panel 3

Konami: Well, there’s no point thinkingabout it any furtherKonami: Why not think about something else and concentrate on the last match?

*thud*

Panel 4

Osamu: Yes

Osamu: I plan to

Panel 5

Konami: How many people for dinner today?

Usami: Isn’t it just the 4 of us?

Panel 1

Usami: Yuuma-kun is with Zoe-san and theothersUsami: Reiji-san went drinking with Suwa-san and the others

Usami: Torimaru-kun is on defence duty withSuzunariUsami: Jin-san and Hus-kun has gone out with Boss and the others

Panel 2

Konami: Then we’re eating out todayKonami: My treat

Konami: It’s too much bother to cook

Usami: Oooh, how generous!

Panel 3

Konami: Meat. We’re going to go eat meat

Osamu: Thank you for the meal

Panel 4

Jujuen

Panel 5

Konami: No ordering anything too expensive!

Osamu: Roger that

Panel 1

Osamu: Ah

Panel 2

Inukai: Oh?

Panel 3

Osamu: Thank you for your hard work…

Inukai: What a coincidence

1. If we go with the day division happening at about noon (because that’s one of the meanings of the word ‘hiru’ and if so I might actually need to change my translation to noon division) and since the match is about an hour, that means the evening division happens at about 6 (since the aftermatch commentary might take up to half an hour). This is nothing we haven’t inferred before, but I just wanted to lay it out anyway.

2. I know it’s a common theory that these rumours are the plan that Lata hinted at the last time we saw Galopoula, but I can’t help but feel it’s a red herring just because if they have the capability to spread rumours this way wouldn’t they do something more direct with a higher chance of stopping the expedition…? But then again, Ashihara doesn’t really trick the audience through fakeouts, (surprises in World Trigger are usually not because Ashihara chose the less likely option unless it’s only less likely because we the audience don’t have all the facts and/or backstory) so I guess this could be their plan? After all, Izuho makes it sound like the switch to Hus definitely being a Neighbour was very sudden…

3. Anyway, there really is a giant Arashiyama…it is SO OBTRUSIVE

4. Jin really was in Tamakoma First before he became S class. This was a pretty popular theory so it’s nice to see it validated. But does that mean Jin will become part of Tamakoma First again? That’s what this new rumour is suggesting at least

5. It’s always nice to see adults being competent and showing why they are the adults, and World Trigger is really good at that. But another thing it’s good at is showing (and allowing) characters take responsibility for what they’ve taken under their charge.

6. I had Azuma say 'we’ when talking about those who’ve gone on expeditions because that’s the implication when he started talking about it when Osamu mentioned him knowing about Hus. But I just want to point out that in Japanese he does not actually come out and say that HE has been on expeditions, Ashihara loves these kind of word tricks where he lets your expectations blind you (no, I still haven’t forgiven him for that A-rank ranking q&a). But on the other hand, Ashihara also loves Occam’s Razor, so Azuma could have gone on expeditions, especially since he used to be A-rank No.1. And if his A-rank No.1 team really was Ninomiya, Kako and Miwa then they might know too. After all, Kazama was talking about Tamakoma’s Neighbour engineer right in front of Miwa in volume 3 (actually, does this mean Narasaka knows as well, since he was there too?)

7. There are so many theories about who Hatohara might have shot, but most of them are of existing characters while I feel, since this is Ashihara, it’s more likely to be someone we haven’t even met yet. Like someone from Kusakabe squad.

8. I’ve given up on trying to translate ochibi with honorifics into a viable English nickname, though chibi by itself still works if I use 'squirt’.

9. But, man, Izuho doesn’t seem to have much of a reaction to Hus, does she? I wonder how much she knows that she’s okay with it all despite everything that happened to them, especially Chika, during the invasion

10. Yay, Yuba squad! As a reminder of the interesting things to look forward to about Yuba squad: they’re the last upper tier squad to be revealed, they’re Ouji and Kurauchi’s old team, they have quite possibly the last HQ B-rank female character to be introduced (unless Yukari is actually a boy, or one of the masculine names not yet introduced is a female character, unlikely with Ashihara but K did have a male character named Yukari so…), Yuba is our last chance to see a strong dual-weld handgun character since he’s the only dual-weld handgun character who hasn’t been introduced yet and the others are Yuiga and Chano squad (A-rank does have 1 unintroduced single-weld handgun character - Satomi - as well as 2 introduced - Kitora and Miwa, who are strong), and finally Yuba is also one of the characters Jin said was one of the Fuujin candidates (despite being a Gunner) and is called 'Yuba-chan’ by Jin - since so far Jin has used -san or their title for everyone older than him, there is a high chance that Yuba is 19 or younger.

11. But this really does mean we’ve lost the chance to see Urushima in the rank wars, doesn’t it? SIGH

12. So I translated a lot of 'and others’ for the going out for meals part because the Japanese didn’t specify who they’ve gone with, but my guesses are: Yuuma is with the other 18 year olds (but probably not at okonomiyaki again since Usami said 'Zoe-san and others’ not 'Kageura and others’), Reiji is with the other 21 year olds, we know who Suzunari all are, and Jin and Hus are probably with Yuri and Mikhael as well as Rindou - maybe even Youtarou too. Man, as interesting as BBQ with Ninomiya squad is, I want to see all these meetups too.

13. I did not miss the fact that if Tsuji stays in that seat he might end up surrounded by girls lol

14. In conclusion, the next chapter will be the last chapter of volume 20, I’m expecting something good to end the volume.

#world trigger #anon #replies #chapter 176 #chapter 177 #translations

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itsdanystormborn · 6 years

Text

Sinbad no Bouken 182 [Final Chapter]

This is only a fan translation, don’t forget to support the official releases of Snb and the MangaOne app if you can, and

►[Please don’t repost without giving credits. If you use this translation, don’t forget to share the link to this post!]◄

Thanks to @soreita for the raw! ^^

The final night “ The adventures of Sinbad”

Night 182 “The adventures of Sinbad”

Page 1

Narration:

King Sinbad founded the new kingdom of Sindria.

He became known as “The high king of the seven seas”, and several years went by quickly…

The “Reim empire” on the west that still holds great influence.

And the “Kou empire” on the east that unified the three warn-torn countries.

The 2 major powers of east and west repeated aggressively invasive wars in order to expand their territory,

And their invasion deepened more and more…

Page 2

Narration: In response to that, a remote country that had a tribute relationship with the three countries before the unification of the Kou empire, declared their adherence to the “seven seas alliance”

TN: Takeru!! Haha

Narration: The far east island-country “The kingdom of Kina” allied themselves with another nation once again.

Page 3

…. Thus, the situation around the world was about to change little by little.

The former boy that headed towards the dream he had embraced….

The final night “The adventures of Sinbad”

TN: We see a ship on the seas…

Page 4

The king of Sindria. Sinbad.

Page 5

Ja’far: It’s unusual for you, Sin.

To take the trouble to be on the deck…. Is something up?

From the eight generals of the kingdom of Sindria. Ja’far.

Sinbad: … Well,

Somehow, I feel a little nostalgic.

Page 6

Sinbad: It’s been a long time since I’ve been on Balbadd, so…

I unconsciously started to remember the old days.

…

Ja’far: I see.

Sinbad: The way you were when I met you, well, you had a foul tongue and your attitude was awful too, huh.

Well… From that, you have come this far and grown up well.

(Little Ja’far’s manuscript: Shut up!! Idiot. / Sin’s manuscript: I seriously mean it.)

Ja’far: Wait…!! Please stop talking about old times!!

Ah, But what about you! Contrary to me, Who’s the one that has become careless since he became an adult?!

( Ja’far’s manuscript: mainly concerning the alcohol….)

Sinbad: drinking alcohol is adult’s behavior, Ja’far-kun.

Ja’far: I’m telling you to consider that there are limits!

Ja’far’s manuscript: It’s always that what gets you into trouble!

Sinbad: WAHAHAHAA

Sinbad: but, when I think about it, it has been quite long time since those days.

Page 7

Sinbad: I fought against you guys on Valefor’s “dungeon”, and then we became comrades and battled together….

And after that, we started trading in Reim and we launched our trading company…

We traveled across various countries, we met a lot of people and learned a great deal of things.

We were nothing but small merchants, and thus, now we are…

The king of the “Kingdom of Sindria” and its minister.

Page 8

Sinbad: A lot of things have happened to reach this point but,

All of that are irreplaceable experiences that made us become what we are today.

We’ve lost many things too, though…

Ja’far: ….

….

Ja’far: But even so,

You moved forward.

You held on to a “dream” that no one could have materialized…

And became “King”.

Page 9

Once, our country was destroyed, and when everyone was brokenhearted,

You guided everyone, and it’s undeniable that everything that we’ve been able to built up until this point, it’s thanks to you.

Ja’far: I know it.

I know how many hardships you have overcome, all the troubles, the pain,

All you have gone through to build up everything we have this very day….

Page 10

Ja’far: your “dream” is still on its way…

Let’s make it truth.

To make a “world” aiming towards true peace.

Page 11

Sinbad: That’s right.

Rather, our “dream” starts from here on.

Ja’far: Yes.

Anyhow, we are now heading towards Balbadd…

Since the demise of the previous king, there has been an internal disturbance,

And there are rumors that the citizens have been suffering due to the tyrannical rule of the current king.

In addition, strange situations have been happening.

we suddenly received an announcement of them discontinuing trade with our country the other day…

I can feel the hints of someone working from behind.

Sinbad: If this is something caused by that organization, we can’t overlook it…

Ja’far: …

Yeah.

If their plan is to raise up the abnormalities of the world, we must stop them without fail…

Page 12

Masrur: ….

Sin-san,

We’ll be arriving soon.

Sinbad: All right.

In order to make the world without conflict that we wish for…

Sinbad: Let’s go!

To Balbadd….!!

Page 13

Ja’far:

____ what?

Although You said those things just a while ago….

You’ve immediately gone to who knows where, haven’t you?

Sin!!

Hey! Come here now!!

Masrur: …

(Masrur’s memories: Masrur, I’m gonna go drink for a little bit, please don’t say anything!)

Page 14

People: Cheers!

Man: Well, Sir

You sure can drink, huh?

(Background Manuscript: service people: service, here’s your drink. People: Thank you.)

Sinbad: It’s been a long time since I’ve been in Balbadd. It’s become quite fun.

Page 15

Sinbad: Balbadd’s wine is certainly exceptional, huh.

Sir, can you give me once more cup? I came to this place because I wanted to drink a bit of this.

(Sin SFX: “smile, smile”)

Shopkeeper: I’m sorry… but that was the last cup .

Lately, customs have risen up, and our stock of good alcohol has decreased…

Not only in our establishment, but apparently in all of Balbadd.

As a consequence, lately customer visits have been decreasing too.

…

Sinbad: …. Sir. In that case, can you bring in your most expensive liquor?

For every person in this place.

Shopkeeper: What!!?

Sinbad: Something like not being able to drink delicious liquor…. There’s nothing as sad as that.

So, even if it’s just for this moment, I want you to enjoy it.

(Manuscript: specially now that economy is awful…)

Page 16

Sinbad: It’s my treat today. Please enjoy!

TN: Sinbad pays the shopkeeper, who apparently thinks so grateful for receiving so much money.

Page 17

TN: Later, Sin is out of the bar with a bit of liquor, he sits alone near the outskirts of Balbadd.

Page 18

Sinbad: ….

Master, it’s been a long time.

I’m finally back.

although I’ve come this far, it took me quite a while…

Ah, this is bringing back memories. This is the wine I used to drink so much back in the old days!

(Manuscript: I took the left-over with me)

Since I’m already here, I thought about having a drink with… with you master, though it seems like it’s the last one.

We used to drink like this in the old days.

Page 19

I’m truly grateful for everything you did for me master... (TN: I’m in great debt to you/I owe you so much)

We didn’t know anything about trading or anything else,

And you taught us how to stablish a company and the ways of trading.

That time in Parthevia and that time I rebuilt my country too, you’ve guided me all along,

Thank you… so much.

….

Balbadd,

Might be different from when you were here.

But still, I’ll help this country….

….

The country of the teacher that helped me so much….

……..

Without fail,

Page 20

One way or another, I will definitely do it.

…

TN: Cheers!

Sinbad: hmm, it’s really tasty!

Yay, I’ll drink it all!

TN: Later…

Sinbad:

Uh, hmmm

Page 21

David:

…..N

……. Bad

Sinbad

…….

Sinbad:

…..

Who’s there?

The voice that I can hear from time to time since that moment….

…..

Who are you?

….

David: I am you. Sinbad.

The only “Singularity” who can see the great flow of “destiny”

You and I are, so to speak, an identical existence that has been isolated from the world. My only supporter.

Page 22

You might not understand yet but, you’ll come to know that truth eventually.

And then, you and I will unite into one.

In the not far away future.... It will “certainly” happen!

Page 23

TN: Sun is up and so is Sin.

Sinbad: haa, haa, haa TN:*heavy breathing*

What was that? Just now, was it a dream?

What a strange dream…

Why am I dreaming this sort of stuff…?

That’s ridiculous. I am who I am, I’m not anyone else.

To have such dreams can only mean that I had quite a lot to drink yesterday, huh…

Huh?

TN: lol, nakey nakey

Page 24

TN: Where are my dragons Metal vessels !!? haha and then Sin spots the 3 brothers.

SNL Brothers:

1) Big bro! with this, we’ll be able to have lunch!

2) If we sell this out, we’ll be able to make a name for ourselves!

3) Let’s go, little brothers!

Sinbad: huh?

Wait… wait!!

Those are my….!!

Sinbad: I’ve been robbed….

Page 25

TN: Sinbad is looking for a leaf lol

Sinbad: huh…

It’s been a long time since I had to do this.

I’d rather if it were just the clothes, but when it comes to having my metal vessels stolen….

(In Sinbad’s imagination= Ja’far: what are you doing!!??)

……

He’ll absolutely shout at me, right?

Anyway, now I have to manage this situation somehow but …..

TN: Sinbad can hear noise.

Sinbad: people are coming!

I’m saved! If they can lend me some clothes, I’ll be lucky.

As one would expect from me. I got immediately lucky.

Reminds me of the good old days…

In those times I also came to face numerous dangers many times this way.

But, I’ll definitely overcome this new crisis, without fail.

Page 26 y 27

I, Sinbad, will do it…

Sinbad to Morgiana and Aladdin: Yo! You guys!

Nice weather today, huh?

If you don’t mind, can I join you?

Page 28

My name is Sin

I’m a merchant heading to Balbadd!

MAGI, SINBAD NO BOUKEN END.

And this is the end of the series!! As always, Thank you so much to for reading! and thank you so much for following these translations until now ^^ we still have the extra content of volume 18 and 19 to look forward! ;D

#Snb 182 #Magi #Sinbad no Bouken #Magi the Labyrinth of Magic #Snb Spoilers #Sinbad #David Jehoahaz Abraham #Rashid Saluja #Ja'far #Masrur #Morgiana #Aladdin Jehoahaz Abraham #My Magi Translation

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chimswae · 6 years

Text

Chapter 4

Untold: Tale of a Luminary

Foreword:

Some stories are better left unsaid.I couldn’t change anything for the world, although the fame part of this industry is tough to handle.Do i have a life? Yes I have my fans.Do i have friends? Yes the members that I cherish. Do i have love? No I have to let go.Life always offers you a second chance. It’s called tomorrow. But do i have any tomorrow?

Pairing: Jimin x OC (Other characters: BTS, OCs, Lee Taehwan)

Genre: Idolau, Fluff, Romance

Word Count: 3,733

Author Note: I crosspost this story from my Asianfanfic account. Mind you, clicheness OVERLOADS

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Chapter 4: So blunt you can smoke my truth

It was barely 24 hours since she last saw Jimin, and Yeoul could not lie to herself how much she missed his warm presence already. To be able to meet Jimin yesterday was already felt too good to be true. On positive side, she could tell how happy Minyeol was and now he had something to boast with his friends. Poor boy, Yeoul had no one to blame but herself for all the misfortune that her kid had to experience at this age. She took a last glance of her look from the mirror and exited her room with a smile.

“Morning Yeoul” she was welcome with Taehwan handsome face who was busy shredding the chicken meat with his bare hand for Minyeol. If anyone witnessed this scene right now, people would say they were a happy family.

“Why I am not surprised you are here” Yeoul shook her head took and went to Minyeol “Good morning mommy’s handsome son, how are you feeling?” she planted a soft kiss at the side of his head.

Minyeol looked up with a cute grin “morning morning my beautiful mommy. Minyeol is in a good mood today and is very happy” he giggled. Taehwan gave them a look while raising his eyebrows, he felt left out.

“Now, what are you both not telling me? This is unfair.” he turned to squish Minyeol cheeks together “Tell uncle why are you so giddy today?”the younger boy squirmed with a slight pout while shaking his head frantically.

“Mommy and I went to meet daddy yesterday” he exclaimed. Upon hearing that Taehwan’s face felt with as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He felt something hard tugging his heart drowning him in.

Yeoul noticed the change in his expression and immediately blurted out “We went to Bangtan fansign yesterday” she took a seat across them avoiding his hard gaze. She knew he would be upset if Taehwan found out she went to Seoul by her own without him. His natural protective instinct sometimes was too much but she understood it was for her own good.

“And..?Did you see him?” Taehwan cleared his throat to ease the awkwardness. He was jealous, hell yeah. Why wouldn’t he? The girl that he loved went to see the daddy of her son, of course all the negative thoughts rushed in one go.

“Yes..” she hummed softly. At this rate she had no idea why she must be afraid of telling Taehwan the truth. She owed him nothing and it was pretty clear there was still boundary between them. He was just a friend for now.

His breath hitched as he never took his eyes off her, examining her expression “How does it feel?” he inquired.

“Weird. But I miss him” she had to be honest in any kind of conversation that she had now with Taehwan. It was the truth, her heart yearned for Jimin god knows for years. Indeed, after years being away from each other, her heart bloomed again. Her love for Jimin never faded.

Minyeol who was so indulged in his breakfast paid no attention on any of the adults at the table. He might be a smart kid and he literally understood the details of their conversation yet Minyeol learned manners at school, to never butt in when adults were having a tense conversation.

Taehwan let out a soft sigh “That was too risky for you to go there with Minyeol. What if the fans or press found out he is his son. You will be doomed” he stroked Minyeol’s hair softly. He grew attached to the younger boy ever since he befriended Yeoul. Ever since then, his only concerned was to protect both Yeoul and Minyeol. After he discovered Jimin was the father, he grew anxious for no reason mainly due to the fact he was an idol. Things had never been good every time idols caught up in a romance. It ended badly because of the pressure from society especially their fans.

“I know and I cant lie to my own kid all the time Taehwan. Sooner or later I have to bring him to meet his own father right? He is just a kid. I made him suffer enough without the love that he deserved from his own dad” she eyed Taehwan as Yeoul tried not to break down in front of him. That was the last thing she hoped.

“So does he know about Minyeol?” he whispered under his breath careful not to sound too clear as they did not want the younger boy knew the truth just yet. He would be upset.

Yeoul bit her lower lips while shook her head slowly “I cant imagine if he knows the truth, that is crazy” he leaned over and caressed her hands. She liked how much this guy cared for her and Minyeol therefore she was trying hard to return the feelings but it was not easy to erase Jimin.

“I will be here for you, so don’t worry Yeoul-ah” his smile was sweet and it warmth her heart. One day, she wished miracle happened and by that time she would return all the kindness that he gave her.

“Mommy there is a note come out from this album” Minyeol skipped happily to her side with a small pink note in his hand. Both of them were too engrossed in their conversation so they had no idea when the younger boy left the table. And, he was definitively hugging Bangtan’s album closed to his chest. That kid never let go the albums ever since yesterday, it touche her heart. Yeoul took the note from Minyeol with a genuine smile.

‘Jimin?’ she flinched in her seat

Taehwan blinked with baffled look but his attention was back on Minyeol “Tae ahjussi, send me to school now. I don’t want to be late” he was playing with Taehwan’s fingers while puckering his lips cutely.

“Alright class president, go get your bag. I will walk you to school” he ruffled his hair with a chuckle. As much as he hated to admit this but Minyeol really resembled Jimin. From his facial feature to his personality, it was like a reflection of Park Jimin. Taehwan was not a fan of idol groups but he usually ended up watching Bangtan’s reality show with Minyeol. He could not stop examining every little detail that Jimin portrayed on screen with little Minyeol.

Like father like son.

“Im ready” Minyeol was already at the door step.

“Alright calm down class president, give your mommy a kiss before head out” Taehwan ordered. He was natural with kid and it made him almost like a real father to Minyeol. The younger boy ran to Yeoul’s arm with a giddy smile. He really was way too hyper since yesterday, guess meeting Jimin was not bad at all.

“Good bye mom, see you later” Yeoul squished him close and gave a light peck on his lips.

“Be a good boy, don’t annoy Taehwan ahjussi”she warned as the younger boy nodded with a salute. He then returned to the front door putting his shoes on.

“Aw, don’t I deserve a kiss too” he joked while patting his lips with fingers. Taehwan puckered his lips leaning close to Yeoul causing the girl to blush in her spot.

Yeoul palmed his face and shoved him back lightly “In your dream” she rolled her eyes getting used to his attempt to swoon her.

“IM HURT NA YEOUL! So harsh..” he groaned in frustration but Taehwan immediately pulled her into a tight embrace which startled Yeoul. She hated how he always made her feel so weak whenever with him.

“Dinner tonight?I don’t take no as an answer. I will pick you up from work” he whispered. She frowned knowing how persistent Taehwan could be sometimes.

“Great, where is my right to answer you. Fine do as you wish Lee Taehwan like I can stop you” he let out a soft chuckle and released her from his embrace.

“See you tonight” Taehwan left a soft kiss on her cheeks before catching up on Minyeol. She was crimson red every time he did these little things for her, though it was not the first time he practically made a physical contact with her. Yeoul wanted to crawl under her bed so badly, she really sucked in sorting her own feelings.

Lee Taehwan.. and Park Jimin.

She almost forgotten about the notes in her hand. Yeoul recognized the handwriting, it was Jimin’s. Her lips curled up into a smile upon reading his little note, how childish. He left his phone number but she was contemplating whether to give him a call, what if that was a bad idea?

If she decided to keep his contact, that simply means Jimin would be officially back in her life. Not in a romantic way but still the thought of having Jimin back in her life was beyond crazy.

Yeoul clutched onto her phone close with a sigh ‘To call or not to call’ her throat was itching to let out a scream. How she wished it was not hard to come out with a decision. That was confusing.

----------

“What is with you with your phone” Jungkook took off her earphone as his eyes were distracted with Jimin’s hand that was fidgeting non stop, flipping the phone around.

“Nothing” Jimin coyly looked out the window. They were on their way to airport, in few hours they would be away from their hometown for Bangtan’s world tour. He liked the idea of traveling away from home, meeting Armys from other part of the world. However, ever since his encountered with Yeoul his heart felt heavy to leave the country. Firstly, he expected a phone call from that girl since he left a note in the album. Shouldn’t she be contacted him by now? He groaned in his head.

Secondly, the conversation that he had with Yoongi that night was still lingering in his damn mind. He was dying to find out who was the father of the son that she carried, was it really not his? It couldn’t be his right, but what if Minyeol was his son. Jimin didn’t realize he spent most of his time thinking about Minyeol and Yeoul.

Why was he feeling this way?

“Hyung.. im talking to you. There you go daydreaming again. What is on your mind seriously? You have been like this since our last fansign” Jungkook gave him a concern look. Jungkook might be a maknae but he had a lot of good things stored in his brilliant brain. He always knew how to give a good advice apart from Hoseok and Taehyung of course, Jimin loved venting his worries or problems with Jungkook.

“I am just nervous since we are traveling for a long time, i cant wait to meet our fans from different parts of the world” he lied. Jimin ruffled his hair with a smile “Stop worrying. I am fine, we are here. Get ready to be mobbed by press and fans” he chuckled.

Jungkook just shrugged the thought off from his mind since he planned to inquire the older guy again later.Jimin took a last glance of his phone ‘Yeoul..just please… this one..’ he prayed dearly with all his heart as he put on his shades ready to strike a good pose.

Without doubt, after an official fanmeeting airport was a crucial place whereby all the cameras were on them. Therefore, they would try to dress as decent or natural as they could. It was the image that they projected since they first debuted, and they tried to conserve it that way.

As expected there were fans and press everywhere waiting for their arrival and he was thankful to meet the Armys before leaving the country. They felt special and grateful somehow to see the amount of love shown by them. Jimin exited the SUV following Taehyung who was already ahead him entering the departure area.

He heard voices calling for their names but they tried to keep it cool as they were in rush to pass the security to catch their flight. Nowadays, Jimin chose to keep his posture as a cool guy in comparison to his cute and bubbly side back then. He thought it was about time to change. That was the utmost reasons why most of his fantaken photos came out fantastic and he had fun went through his photos tagged by Armys on thier official Twitter.

As his manager stood by his side making sure no one made a blunt move throwing themselves on him, he entered the departure and waited for others to join him there.

“Jiminie your phone is blinking. Don’t you think you need to answer that?” Taehyung looked at him while fixing his beanie.

Jimin widened his eyes and immediately answered the call “Yeoul?” he rambled without even checking his phone screen.

“ Who is Yeoul?” he heard a familiar voice at the end of the line. Jimin knew he was doomed, how could he be in rush not noticing it was actually her mother.

“Mom, im sorry.. is that you? I was in rush” he sheepishly rubbed his back neck with a small smile.

“Mm son are you expecting someone else? Is it a girl? I don’t know you are seeing someone?” her mother bombarded him with questions. That was the last thing he wanted to face right now, mother’s intuition.

“It is..just an old friend..How are you mom? Did you miss me? We just talked yesterday?” he chuckled softly hoping that he could make her forget about Yeoul for a second.

She laughed softly “Changing the topic I see. It is fine, I will ask you again later. Of course I always miss my son. I just want to make sure you get on the plane safely and say goodbye” he softened. Jimin couldn’t remember when was the last time he went back home, he missed his bed so badly.

“Thank you mom, I am ready to check in soon. I will be seeing you once I get back okay? Please take care of yourself and make sure both of you have a proper meal” his warmness really awed Taehyung. Jimin’s relationship with his parents were adorable and being an obedient son he was, Jimin really took a good care of them. He would give them a call without failed every day.

Taehyung gave him a teasing smile mouthing ‘mama boy’ earning a playful glare from Jimin. After bidding his farewell with his mother, he ended the call. Even though it was not Yeoul to hear his mother voice the last thing before he left the country was enough.

“Come one lets go since everyone is here” their manager signaled everyone to stalk walking for their check in and ready to board the plane in two hours.

-----------

“Hello is this daddy?” Jimin frowned upon hearing the soft voice at the end of the line. He was so sure he heard it before just where?

“Mmm.. daddy? I am sorry kid, but who are you?” he was careful not to reveal his information. Anything could happen if he ever slipped out his name, even though it was a kid. It could be a trap used by dispatch or sasaeng fans. Jimin remembered how he had to change his contact for the nth time and it amused him how people could find it still.

“But…this is Minyeollie” he pouted with a small mumble “I am sorry I thought you are my daddy” he sounded disappointed.

Jimin eyes shot open as he heard the name “Come again? Are you Minyeol?” he couldn’t believe what he just heard. Did he just day dream or was it really Minyeol? Instead of Yeoul, and it was Minyeol who gave him a call.

On top of that, he was calling him what.. daddy? His stomach churned in fear.

“Yes I am minyeol, I apologize I thought you are my daddy. I copied the number from the pink note. Good-” he was about to hang up but Jimin blurted out a loud stop causing all the eyes in the area felt on him.

Their manager flinched with a concern look “Are you okay Jimin?” Jimin cracked a nervous laugh.

“I am okay hyung, sorry it is my best friend..I will be back in a minute” he arose from his seat The members exchanged a weird look while Jungkook decided to tail Jimin from behind. Something was definitely off and he demanded an answer from him.

“Kkuk ah make sure both of you come back to the gate in 10 minutes. We will board in 30 minutes” Namjoon reminded the younger boy who just casually nodded in response.

Jimin entered the bathroom as his heart pounded furiously “Are you still there Minyeol ah?” it was huge relief to him as he heard Minyeol’s chirpy voice at the end of the line.

“This is Jimin hyung..” he mumbled.

“It is really daddy! I am not wrong” Jimin felt a heavy lump on his throat, his mind went fuzzy. Why was that kid calling him daddy? It was a heavy silence before he decided to reply Minyeol.

“Minyeollie.. why are you calling me daddy?” he was afraid to hear Minyeol’s reply but he couldn’t help but to clear the curiosity in him.

Innocent Minyeol casually answered “Mom said you are my daddy. Aren’t you?” he blinked in confusion. A child never lied. Pretty much all the honest truth telling in the world was done by children. Jimin trusted Minyeol’s words.

His world went blank. Jimin’s body was paralyzed and he had no idea how to react or what to do first.

Should he scream or run away?

Or should he bail on this tour but that was so not him.

He was trained to be professional in any situation.

Jimin heard Yeoul’s sweet voice at the end of the line asking Minyeol who was he talking to, he froze in his spot. It could be the truth. Minyeol could be his son but how that happened. Why she never told him anything?

“oh my what? You are talking to who?” Yeoul started to panic as she took her phone from Minyeol.

“Daddy.. im talking to daddy..” Minyeol pouted and hugged Yeoul’s legs “Mommy I just missed daddy im sorry don’t be mad” Yeoul didn’t know how to react, and by now she expected Jimin bombarded her with questions.

“Go eat your lunch, granny is outside waiting for you” she was mad at Minyeol yet she had no reason to yell or even punish him. Minyeol was a clueless kid, what did she expect. It was her fault to lay the notes openly on her desk. She didn’t expect Minyeol would actually make a bold move to call the number.

As soon as Minyeol left the room, Yeoul took a deep breath and brought the phone close to her ears “Yeoul…” his voice was a mixture of pain, anger and confusion. Yeoul owed him a long explanation, and she didn’t expect it would be today.

“Jimin…” her lips were pressed into a thin line. She didn’t know how to begin the conversation, it was awkward to break an old new to someone that she expected to ignore for the rest of her life.

“What was that?” he exasperated a heavy sigh as he raked fingers in his hair. He just wanted to scream right away and this really frustrated him to hear such absurd at this time.

“It is nothing.. forget about that. Minyeol is being playful” she tried to cover up the truth but Yeoul was unsure whether he bought it.

“You are lying” his voice was stern. Jimin clenched his fist ready to pound any part of cold wall around him. He felt so helpless being left in shadow. Questions after questions gnashed his already messy mind.

“I am not”

“Explain”

“There is nothing to explain”

“NA YEOUL!”

“I have to go Jimin”

“Don’t you dare, or I swear to god I will come to get you now Yeoul”

“Dont be silly Jimin. It is just a kid word”

“His words against yours. I trust him”

“Stop it Jimin” she grew frustrated. As much as she wanted to explain and threw herself on him, Yeould knew it was a bad idea. He should not know about this.

“Hyung are you alright?” Jungkook who had been watching Jimin diligently broke the silence. Jimin seemed intense, and it scared Jungkook to death. The last time he saw Jimin this angry was when the older guy was frustrated of himself for not be able to sing properly during their pre-debut says.

Jimin might be soft on the outside but when he got angry, he was the scariest.

He snapped his eyes meeting Jungkook curious one, now what? How he wished he was not stuck here. Out of all days why this thing must happened just right before his plane about to take off. This was absurd.

Jungkook was about to ask question when he saw their manager stood behind him with a wary look “Are you boys ready? We are ready to board. Come” he patted Jungkook’s back and signaled Jimin to move.

With a heavy heart Jungkook walked after their manager ‘Who is Yeoul? Minyeol? That sounded familiar..’ he fixed his hoodie and shook his head frantically.

Jimin realized Yeoul was still at the end of the line. He inhaled a sharp breath “We are not done Na Yeoul” he then hung up slipping his phone in pocket before heading out. The members noticed his tense expression as it was rare to see him this serious.

Hoseok swung his arm around Jimin’s neck “You okay?” he blinked.

“I am alright hyung. Let’s go we are late” he tried not to sound soulless as he escaped from Hoseok’s grasp getting in line behind Jin. Yoongi and Hoseok exchanged look with a shrug.

Part of him refused to board the plane, he just wanted to take the fastest route to Busan and find Yeoul. How he wished this was not a world tour? Jimin would definitely took an emergency plane in a heartbeat.

That’s mean he had to endure this until they wrapped up their world tour in America before he got time to stretch to find Yeoul.

Endure it, Park Jimin.

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#bts #bts fanfic #bts series #bts fluff #bts romance #bts idolau #bts jimin #park jimin #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts jhope #bts jin #bts yoongi #leetaehwan #untoldseries

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bcdaily · 6 years

Text

EIGHT DAYS (PART 6/10)

A/N: Yes, yes, I know. I suck. This is nothing new. But if this is a hot mess, please let me know, because I’m very paranoid about this chapter. I’ve edited it way too much.

Also, please indulge me in the way I've just entirely made up the details of how professional Quidditch works, and doubled-down on how Quidditch press works, too. ("But Bee, why does your sports press line seem more like a red carpet--" "SHUT UP I DON'T KNOW I ONLY WATCH GYMNASTICS CAN WE JUST GO WITH IT.")

Link to: PART 1 + PART 2 + PART 3 + PART 4 + PART 5

__________________________________

+ + +

DAY SIX (Middle)

Day Six requires a reset, James is quick to decide. A reset, a revival, a resurrection.

Goodbye, rubbish. Hullo, deliverance.

He will salvage this wreck. Salvage his sanity. He’s determined. Resolved.

Though, admittedly…his timing could be better.

The team has the first match of morning—a fact James truly wishes he’d thought to recall approximately eight hours, two rows, and (undetermined) bottles of scotch ago. Foresight has clearly never been his forte. Neither, apparently, is self-control. He feels raw, positively splinched at the edges. Hoff’s call has unnerved him. His visitors have undone him. As he rushes around the now-crowded hotel room, gathering the remnants of dignity equipment he’d haphazardly discarded the evening before, that point becomes increasingly obvious.

But his mates are here, the lovely, useless bastards. His people. His family. James is heartened and resigned and exasperated and happy to be properly reunited with them…while simultaneously noting that he may have appreciated it more without feeling like someone’s taken a Beater’s bat to his head.

(He’d meant to plan this properly. He’s certain he had done.)

(Ow, ow, ow.)

No family is without its dysfunction, of course. Sirius is cocooned in blankets and drama, refusing to leave the bed. Remus and Peter are jovial, but clearly feel as if they’ve missed something (have done). Peter combats this by chattering incessantly. Remus cocks a questioning eyebrow at the whole tableau—prima donna in bed, empty whiskey bottles strewn about, vague sense of panic in the air—to which James can only sigh back an unspoken, Later.

He is tired, tired, tired, and late, late, late.

Bugger, bugger, bugger.

“We’ll see you after?” Remus asks as James eyes his wrinkled practice robes huddled at the base of the bed with muted distaste. They reek like a distillery. The whole bloody room does. He reaches for them anyway, glad to find he can reach—his shoulder is still a bit sore, but the stiffness seems to have gone. He can lift and rotate it readily (praise Merlin!). He performs a quick cleaning spell, dons the soiled robes, and nods at Remus before summoning his missing arm pad, which zooms out from beneath an armchair, bent and dusty.

Lovely.

“I’ll find you,” James answers hurriedly, unbending, undusting. “Don’t know how long I’ll be. Have to duck out of the press line—”

Peter clears his throat. “Speaking of press—”

“No!” Sirius snaps.

They all turn.

“No?” asks Peter.

“Bloody arse is seeing nargles,” Sirius mutters, glaring at James. “Don’t listen t’him. Can’t be trusted.”

“Leave off my nargles,” James returns, scowling.

Peter snorts. Remus sends James another pointed look (Silly ponce, it clearly chastises. You expected a reaction other than this?), and James shrugs (can shrug!) a noncommittal, Eh.

“Well, I want to hear more about your lady,” Peter says, grinning happily again. “We’ve bought her a present, after all.”

He gives the Hot for Pot banner another jolly wave, and James watches his photoself—very clearly nude, very clearly delighted about it—wink and pose from banner-land.

(He’d insist it’s a doctored photo, but honestly, he can’t be certain.)

(He dives for it, but dodgy Peter can be a fast little bugger when humiliation is on the line.)

(Humbling, that.)

Three minutes later, James is out the door: defeated, irritated, banner-less.

This is not improved once he’s besieged.

He ought’ve expected it. Day Six means the exhibition is now officially open to the public, and Quidditch fans have poured into the area like a veritable tidal wave of shouts, colors, and unhinged enthusiasm. James is stopped at least a half-dozen times before he can even clear the hotel. One bloke asks for an autograph, then subjects James to a six-minute diatribe on the state of Fitchburg’s defense. A middle-aged mum with two kids in tow propositions James so outrageously as she’s snapping a photo that he wants to slap his hands over the innocent children’s ears, spare them the indignity. A positively ancient wizard dressed head-to-toe in Appleby pale blue mistakes James for Rodger Jostins and is so joyously thrilled by the prospect that James doesn’t have the heart to correct him.

(He’d wanted a reset, not a reincarnation. But at least someone’s pleased with him.)

He is the last to arrive in the locker room. Lorri is still stretching in the corner. Jools calls, “Good morning, good morning!” as James shuffles in. Lufty already has the Ogden’s out and is preparing his shot. James quells an immediate gag reflex at the smell.

No one mentions his leaving training early the day before. No one mentions his tardiness now, either. The room is busy and chipper and apparently disinterested in the dramas and schedules of their youngest Chaser. It’s a wild relief. James snaps on his wireless (returned from the vents?) and after a Broomstyx hit and a Ruff Ratherford power ballad, Sleekeazy is the second advert to play.

“Sllllleeeeeeeekeazy!…two drops for hair to pleasy! Dare to care—”

“No-oo!” Marcie groans as the locker room laughs. “Why won’t it leave us alone?”

James doesn’t turn off the wireless, but there is a smattering of cheers and applause when the next advert to play is indeed something new. But in spite of the jingle, James still feels off. Like he’s chipped and nicked in all the wrong places. Like he’s got a balloon slowly inflating inside his chest. A quick Hangover Charm is slow to take effect. He can’t kick a general sense of bewilderedness. His shoulder has retained its ugly shade of splotched purple, and since he’d rather avoid questions, questions, questions, he pops open the miracle tin from Lily’s mate and applies the salve with his shirt still on. It’s clumsy work.

He thinks of Lily as he salves. (Don’t think of Lily.) Thinks of his mates. (Don’t think of your mates.) Thinks of an island he might escape to where he can be alone with only fruity drinks and the crashing waves to keep him company.

(Yes, all right.)

(Oops, no—there’s Lily again, wearing a grassed hula skirt and not much else, bless her.)

“Is that lemons?” asks Jools suddenly, startling James out of his perverted fantasies. He jumps, but Betts already has her nose pressed to his robes, sniffing enthusiastically. She pulls back grinning. “Well. Don’t you smell pretty, Potter?”

James goes scarlet. “Prettier than you,” he mutters.

She smirks, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yes, see, but some of us actually play hard enough to sweat, eh?”

He chokes out a laugh, popping the salve top back on. “Touché.”

At his easy concession, she gives him a curious look. “All right?”

James shrugs, wishes he knew.

There is not much opportunity for further banter or contemplation. The alarm is sounded—time to depart for the pitch. Before they leave, Klinderson gathers the team for a pre-match pep talk.

“Penultimate match, comrades,” he says, slapping Dooster on the back with one meaty hand. (Doos, impressively, only winces slightly.) “Let’s give the rabid masses something to cheer for!”

They all whoop and clap their agreement. James does his best to contribute. Then it’s out the door, onward.

(Onward.)

The stadium is a madhouse, each section of stands filled to the brim. James blinks at the sudden sunlight, but the Hangover Charm seems to finally be doing its job—a vague twinge is the only reminder of this morning’s foibles. He tries not to examine the surroundings too much. Tries not to contemplate just who is in those stands today, how each of them matters. He can’t. Not now. Not three minutes before play. The warning whistle blows.

He kicks off and lets the wind take him.

He expects to be distracted on the pitch. How could he not? But it is—surprisingly, fortunately—just the opposite. They’re up against a formidable lot, including James’s presumed double, Rodger Jostins, and Alla Abdel, a prodigy seeker fresh out of school who’s rumoured to be one of the fastest flyers the game has seen in ages. Lorri is good—very good—but James knows they can’t depend on her points this match. He, Dooster, and Marcie will need to pad the score as much as possible to manage a victory.

The crowd is roaring from the very start. They lose the Quaffle on the release, but gain it back with a well-timed Bludger from Klinderson. Marcie grabs it in the freefall, and despite the sparse drills run yesterday, James moves easily into formation. When the Quaffle comes to him, he’s able to whip it over to Dooster without the same tormenting rigidity that had made the exact maneuver near impossible the day before. Dooster is a bit clumsy with the catch, but makes up for it with a key feint and a zapping shot. It sails through the left hoop, just as the keeper dives.

Ten points.

More cheering.

James lets out a long breath.

He knows this. He loves this. The last few months have been…Merlin, he doesn’t know. A million things. A million, sometimes not-so-great things. Sirius was right about that. And this past week…James feels like he’s lost his damned mind a hundred times over. Coming back to England. Puddlemere. His mates. His parents. Hoff. Lily (most certainly Lily). He knows he hasn’t handled it all as he might have done once: casual and cavalier, resolved and resilient.

He’s been knocked down a few pegs, taught to worry. And while it’s not necessarily a bad thing to learn some consideration, some humility, in the flux he seems to have lost touch with the taste for this: a love for this game. For what he’s done. Accomplished. For what he can do, and can’t do, and will fight like hell for anyway.

It feels good, coming back to that now. It’s a reminder he needs, today more than most.

When the hell had he lost it?

Reset.

As he pulls off a textbook Backhand Bernham with Dooster, flying past the goal posts as his shot sails through the center hoop, James finds the person he most wants to discuss this all with is Lily. She’d get it, he reckons. She’d know what to do, what to say. And rather than worrying him, that makes him feel better.

(So much better, he scores three more goals in the next fifteen minutes. But who’s counting?)

(Well, he is, obviously. And the scoreboard. And likely Lily, too. And his mates. And Hoff. And Tufton—fucking hell, Tufton. Is he watching? Of course he’s watching. But—shutupshutupshutupPLAY.)

James plays.

He plays his bloody heart out.

+ + +

They lose the match, 270-350.

His very first exhibition loss.

James is…conflicted.

Well, perhaps not so much conflicted as content, which in itself seems like it ought to be a conflict. It was a brilliant battle, though, well-played on nearly every front. Relatively green as he still may be, James knows the rarity of that sort of outcome. Victory has transcended the numbers displayed on the pitch, and everyone—from the (overly competitive) players in the sky, to the (forever finicky) fans in the stands—seems to agree. It’s a loss in scoreboard only.

Which is not to say that James isn’t disappointed. Only human, isn’t he? He’s had a revelation, a rekindling, and what better way to pay that proper homage than with points? A scoreboard win would have been preferable in most ways, all things considered.

But despite the end result, he feels…good.

Good?

Yes. That’s it. Good. Validated. Satisfied.

Fancy that.

Better yet, these seem to be shared sentiments. The post-match locker room is filled with good-natured sighs, heady recaps, and teasing ribs. Marcie is laughing loudly with Lufty. Klinderson’s bulky chest puffs as he accepts praise for his prime batwork from Betts. Even Lorri, ultimately felled by Abdel on the chase, has her chin up, her back straight, occasionally smiling. They’ve all been through this before, will go through it again. It’s the job.

Play worthy, James thinks, that old Puddlemere adage. But there’s valiancy in defeat, too.

Interesting, that.

…though perhaps not nearly as interesting as what he somehow finds himself doing next.

In retrospect, he’ll never be able to account for the logic of it. He watches it all happen as if outside of himself, floating there above the madness. There’s a recognizable dance to the post-match process. Victory or loss, content or conflicted, it’s all the same: cool down, change gear, gird your loins accordingly. Eventually, the team will file out of the locker room. Outside, one of the exhibition wranglers will be waiting to herd the lot of them up to the press line. James is a near expert at this bit by now: wait for movement, give the (heavily bribed) wrangler a wink, and then it’s off through the roughshod door to the left that leads down to the equipment room and out the back exit of the stadium. No mess. No press. Freedom.

The team gathers. The movement starts. The roughshod door is there.

James sees it. Stares at it. His feet are moving. He stares harder.

Passes it.

(What?)

Passes the next potential escape, too.

(What is he doing?)

And the last.

(What is he doing?)

Oh, bloody hell, he thinks, at nearly the same moment his feet seem to be chanting, march, march, march! He’s marching? He’s marching. Why is he marching? He doesn’t understand. He’s certain his brain did not make this choice. His feet have gone rogue. The order’s gone out from up top—stop—and filtered down, getting corrupted somewhere in the vicinity of his chest, so all his feet are hearing is stomp. Not the same thing at all, stop and stomp. Very important letter, that m. Cannot be spoken more disparagingly of, that m. Please, Merlin help him, someone explain to his feet about the m. Why won’t they listen? It makes not the slightest bit of sense.

And yet on they go, the damned recalcitrant limbs.

He’s not the only one grappling in confusion. Standing outside the press room (what what what) as the other team finishes up their round, Betts is eyeing him in sharp question. Dooster, likewise, gives a double-take when he spots James still with them at the threshold.

“What’s this?” Doos asks.

James jerks a shoulder. It’s a truly compelling question.

“Stick close, yeah?” he tells Doos instead, feeling a bit bleary-eyed. “Dunno what the fuck I’m doing.”

Dooster is still laughing as the wrangler gives the signal and they all walk inside.

James is immediately blinded.

Flash. Murmur. Flash. Shout. SHOUT. FlashflashflashflashshoutshoutSHOUT.

They’ve noticed him, of course. Two dozen people begin whispering—then yelling—his name.

Is there always this much yelling?

He ignores them. Sticks to Dooster’s back like a toddler clinging to mum. Looks up, searching.

No, no, no—he’s press?—no, no—

Yes.

She’s toward the back of the pack. Hair up, black dress, trusty credentials hanging around her neck. There is a pad of paper in her hands, but that’s all he can really see from this vantage point. Their eyes meet. He can see the green even from here. Bright. Surprised. Her brows shoot up to her hairline.

What’s this? they ask.

He grins bravely. Unpredictable, aren’t I?

Her lips purse. Something like that.

She begins to push toward the front, and James stifles a giddy laugh.

The team fans out. This isn’t a formal press conference. They saddle up to whoever in the line catches their attention. Or perhaps it’s more strategic than that. James truly wouldn’t know. He’s the proverbial hippogriff foal on shaky legs, stumbling about blindly. Sam Lockley from Quidditch Weekly gives him a welcoming smile from behind the barricade, and James reckons he’s as good a place to start as any. Dooster seems to agree, and they amble over together.

“Truly excellent match, lads!” Lockley says in greeting, beaming victoriously. “Full of surprises. Eh, Potter?”

Potter. That’s him.

“Er…yes. That’s…well. Yes. The surprises.” Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Hate for things to be dull for you, Sam.”

James hopes his overly-bright smile compensates for the fumbling.

Sam—bless him—doesn’t seem deterred by the slips.

“First time you’re playing on the same side, isn’t it?” he asks them both, apparently understanding the comfort in numbers plot and kind enough to lob them a few easy tosses. “Seems to be working up there. What’s that been like?”

“Trying to keep the Quaffle away from this hog? Near impossible,” Dooster jokes, elbowing James in the chest. Cameras flash. “Give a bloke a few scoring records and goes straight to his head, it does.”

“Oh, were you meant to be playing, as well?” James asks, finding stride. “Explains why you kept getting in the way of my shots.”

Doos laughs and throws an arm around James’s shoulders. “When can I ship this tosser back to America?”

Lockley grins. “No time soon, from what I hear.”

There’s a pointed, expected pause. The reporter is waiting for James to respond. Of course he is. For the first time, James realises the press might interpret his appearance here as some kind of signal. It’s long been understood that if James was signed to Puddlemere—to anywhere, really—these kinds of appearances would be expected. He can’t play his same avoidance game back on British soil, with the kind of hefty contract he’s demanding brewing beneath the cauldron.

But that’s hardly a done deal at this point, and James is not sure he should—could—explain that the real reason he’s here has less to do with career, and more to do with some kind of mental break and a pair of knowing green eyes.

Speaking of…

Dooster has filled the lull of James’s non-confirmation with some clever spiels about the ease of play between the three Chasers on their side—professionals, competitors, etcetera…James makes humming noises of agreement, but his eyes focus just beyond Sam Lockley’s shoulder as Lily stealthily slides in behind the other reporter. James tries not to be terribly obvious, but is likely not overly successful. His heart patters in his chest. He feels like he’s gulped a lungful of fresh air. Lily—of course—ignores his keen attention and instead keys into the interview dynamic. She is very clearly unimpressed with his efforts. With a pointed look and a prodding twirl of her finger, she urges James back into the conversation, all go-on-hop-to-get-in-there.

(The things he does to please this witch, really.)

He tries his best. He jumps in, talking about training, about the match, about Marcie and her smart communication, Dooster and his focused assists. When he starts to babble, Lily’s twirling finger morphs into a slowly lowering flat of fingers (cool-it-slow-down-that’s-enough!). He complies readily.

She doesn’t ask questions—this isn’t her interview, and James knows there’s internal press politics to that sort of thing—but she jots down notes from time to time. James wonders if any of this will make it into the furloughed article. He also knows he and Doos spend more time with Lockley than is usual. Most of his teammates have moved on to a second or third interview by now. That’s how these things work. James might be more embarrassed about the fact that they’re very clearly coddling him, but he’s too relieved at the indulgence.

Unfortunately, not everyone is so patient.

About five minutes into the babbling, a tall, dark-haired bloke in bright blue robes saddles up to the front of the barrier. James spots him only a few seconds before—without so much as a please-if-you-will—he roughly bumps Lily aside and leans in over Sam Lockley’s shoulder.

James blinks.

“Fucking hell, Dalton?” Lily snaps.

“Mr. Dooster, Mr. Potter,” the man says grandly. His grin is blinding. “Jack Dalton, Daily Prophet.”

Sam Lockley looks cross. Lily looks livid. But neither does anything more than snap or glare at the man, which tells James he’s likely somehow higher-up than them both.

“Dalton,” Lockley says tightly. “So glad you could join us. Mind if I finish up?”

Dalton ignores him. “Excellent match out there, gentlemen. You both played beautifully…can’t blame either of you for the loss.”

The words are too pointed and strangely delivered. Dooster’s eyes have narrowed. James is instantly on guard.

“Thank you?” Dooster offers.

The reporter’s smile turns sharp. “Twenty-seven goals on your side, but lost on the catch. Got to be frustrating.”

“It’s how the game is played,” James answers carefully. Where’s this going?

Dalton waves a hand. “Of course, of course. Still, enough to make a decent Chaser shout, and you’re both better than that, hm? I think it’s safe to say you’re questioning the choices of your Seeker.”

What?

“Choices,” James repeats flatly.

“Choice of?” Dalton corrects slyly.

Ah. James sees the target even before Lily’s eyes flash at him in warning.

The fucker was going after Lorri. Lorri.

It’s so preposterous, so outlandish, James is momentarily dumbfounded. Lorri?

Thankfully, Dooster is quick on the recovery. “Not certain what you mean, mate.” His hand immediately moves to James’s arm. James feels the nudge—let’s go let’s go let’s go.

Happy to oblige, James twists away accordingly.

But Dalton is relentless.

“Alla Abdel is barely out of the schoolroom,” he blurts loudly as they turn, “yet she outflew and outmatched Lorri Jackson today. Youth has its favors, and in this sport…well, hard to argue Appleby might be reconsidering Jackson’s contract come renewal time. Next year, isn’t it? Tough for female players at the end of their careers. Always cling harder than they ought, eh? I’m sure you gentlemen were equally impressed by Abdel’s performance this morning?”

It’s a clever tactic, worded just so. The options are clear: disparage Abdel, or defend Lorri, with a happy dose of misogyny thrown just there. Any response gives Dalton his quote. Dooster’s hand applies more pressure to James’s arm. Lily’s face has gone completely scarlet. The line is crowded—all the nearby reporters have their eyes and ears trained on this exchange now, just in case. James can see it all unfolding.

And while he knows—knows—the smartest thing to do is follow Dooster’s prompt, find another spot on the line, another legitimate question to answer…something inside James revolts.

Because, honestly? This bloke is scum. He’s beyond scum. He’s the dirt James scuffs off his trainers in the morning, the sludge at the bottom of his tea cup. He’s looking for a juicy morsel of gossip—Young Stars Lament Teammate Jackson, or something equally as rubbish—and James is aghast at the audacity. In a match as well-played as this one had been, the tact is so obvious, so heavy-handed, so unnecessary, James can almost laugh. He should not reward even the attempt with a response.

He shouldn’t…but then he thinks of Lorri.

Stable, steadfast, resilient Lorri, with her calming air, her pregame stretches, her quick fingers, and her small smiles despite—yes, fine—ultimate defeat on the catch today. As if that’s not the game. As if it’s not utterly unavoidable for one Seeker to win and the other to lose. He thinks with fury, this is the reason I don’t do this, and understands the power and limits of no comment. He loves no comment. He and no comment are the very best of mates.

But now he’s here, and he can’t—can’t—leave it at that. It’s just not in him.

He turns back to Dalton, ignoring Dooster’s fingers clenching, Lily’s fast blink at his movement. James’s fists ball. His voice is low, rough.

“Are you new at this?” he asks Dalton.

The reporter stares. He’s giddy at successfully goading a reply, James knows that, but he’s confused by the one he got. Up for the challenge, he smiles. “New at this?”

“Yes. This. Quidditch.” James waves a hand, takes a step closer. “You must be. Because anyone with even the smallest hint of knowledge about the sport would have watched the match this morning and understood the Seekers at play. Abdel is fast—she’s so bloody fast, I’d hate to face her in a race, that’s for certain. I’m sure she’ll be zooming past us all for years to come. But equally as certain is that nearly every time she dove for the snitch this morning, she was following Lorri Jackson’s lead. Abdel is young. She can’t read a professional pitch yet. One day she will, but the idea that Lorri Jackson was somehow less-than…laughable. Completely laughable. She was seeking, while Abdel was chasing. Sometimes you win that way, but you can’t always, and everyone knows it—or, that is, everyone who knows even a whit about Quidditch.” James leaves that point posed for a moment, delighted by the staggered look on Dalton’s face. Delighted. “Which brings us back to the original question…Are you new at this? Because the way I see it, you’re either new, you’re inept, or you’re an unmitigated arsehole. So which is it?”

So which is it?

(Ha.)

The question hangs in the air. Dalton is silent. The whole bloody line is. No one speaks, no one moves, and with the blood still pumping furiously through his veins, James knows better than to wait around for any of them to regroup. Shooting a quick look at Lily—she is pressing her lips together so firmly, the edges of her mouth have gone white—James smiles pleasantly at Sam Lockley, reaching out to shake the man’s hand.

“Lovely speaking with you, Sam,” he says.

Someone breaks the stupor. James is blinded again by flashes—clickclickclickclick. He turns around, prodding a shell-shocked Dooster in the back. Move, move, move. March, march, march!

He’s not quick enough.

“I wonder if Greta Moors feels similarly?” Dalton snaps at James’s back, voice filled with taunting fury. “Or Fredrick Fords? I’ll just owl him for comment, shall I?”

Clickclickclickclick.

Curse fired, direct hit.

James keeps walking.

“Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!—”

He is furious. Furious.

Fuck Dalton. Fuck. Him. Greta and Fredrick Fords be damned, too. James regrets none of this. His first real foray into press in ages, and he ends up telling off some pompous tosser in the line? What of it? Bloke is worthless, and James can antagonize any member of the press he’d like. Anyone at all he’d like. He doesn’t regret any of it. He doesn’t.

(It’s fine you’re fine don’t panic don’t panic.)

Dooster is at his elbow, walking quickly to keep up with James’s brisk strides. As the shouts continue around them, it’s Dooster’s voice that James concentrates on.

“What a cock,” his teammate says, and James can only grunt an agreement. Then Dooster snorts. “New, inept, or an arsehole. Bloody hell, Potter. Had that tucked away in your pocket, did you?”

“Years of pent-up aggression? Some,” James replies, and Dooster throws back his head and laughs. There’s more flashing and clicking.

Fine. They can have that.

He needs…hell.

James glances back over his shoulder.

She’s still standing beside Sam Lockley. Jack Dalton has gone—James doesn’t see where, but hopefully nowhere James will ever encounter him again, good bloody riddance—but Lily has lingered. Her lips aren’t pressed in contained mirth anymore, instead tweaked slightly upward as she watches him, too. The expression turns shrewder as the seconds pass. Her eyes are quite, quite bright. With a subtle jerk of his head toward the end of the press line, James hopes she understands the desperate attempt to ask, meet me please please please?

Lovely, clever witch. She nods immediately, then disappears into the crowd behind her.

All right.

It’s fine. He’s fine.

“You know, I think I’m quite done here,” James tells Dooster, hoping his voice only sounds that tight inside his head. They’re nearly at the end of the line anyway. James has sped through like his trousers are on fire. People have been shouting his name—they all seem to be shouting something—but James hears it like an echo through a tunnel, all hollow and vague. “You all right?”

Dooster nods. “Think I’m quite done, as well. Nothing going to top that, eh?”

Shit shit shit shit.

James smiles weakly. He’s walking too fast. He knows he is. It’s terribly, terribly obvious. He wants to get out of click-flash-shout range, though, and he’s barely managed to do so before a short obstacle stumbles into his exit path.

“Note for you!” the boy says, thrusting parchment at him.

James takes it numbly.

It’s very clearly ripped off a white pad of paper, which comforts James even before he opens it and sees the familiar handwriting.

Bvrg kiosk sect. 4 left pillar. xo

Beverage kiosk. Section Four. Left pillar.

James murmurs something to Dooster—sorry urgent note thank you thank you thank you—then takes off like a pack of dementors are floating at his heels. Section four is close. The beverage kiosk will be crowded with spectators milling about between matches, but maybe Lily’s counting on the busyness to maintain his anonymity. He keeps his head down nonetheless, casting a quick Concealment Charm in hopes that it will deter gazes from lingering his way. He’s never regretted the absence of his Invisibility Cloak so keenly. When he reaches Section Four, he lifts his eyes only high enough to scope out the terrain. The small alcove off the side of the beverage kiosk’s left pillar is surprisingly easy to spot. He weaves his way toward it.

He’s not quite running, but he’s not quite walking, either.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he’s saying even before he gets there and finds her, tucked away in the spot as promised, thank Merlin. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Shit,” she agrees, but she’s laughing. Lily. Hullo there. Laughing. “James. Fucking Christ.”

He’s a bloody mess. He fairly falls into her, arms curling around her waist, the momentum pushing her back against the alcove wall. His face drops into the cool, comforting crook of her neck, and he sucks in a ragged breath.

“That was stupid,” he mutters into her skin. “Stupid. I am furious. Fucking furious.”

“You are clearly not the silent and seething sort.”

“Can’t even believe—”

“Unmitigated. Five syllables!”

“Shit.”

“It was the most brilliant thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Stupid.”

“Well.” Her fingers sink into his hair, soothing. “Only a bit.”

“A bit.” He chokes on it. Laughs. Is he laughing? “Oh, hell.”

He lifts his head only enough to cover her mouth with his.

She does not shove him off. He is not so awash in his own anguish that he can’t acknowledge she’d have every reason to do so. He’s a waste of a human nowabouts. Instead, her hands slip down, cupping his face, fingers skimming along his jaw. Her mouth matches his in fervor for a few thrilling moments, then pulls back carefully, slowing the onslaught. That’s all right. He doesn’t mind slow. His heart is beating so fast, slow is good. She tastes delicious. Like tea and mint. He’s never come at someone like such a lunatic, and wonders what sort of price he’ll have to pay in the afterlife for these kinds of earthly indulgences. Whatever the cost, fine. He’ll gladly give his bloody soul for a few minutes of this, of her (all right okay he’s bloody insane).

But she doesn’t seem to mind. That’s the maddest bit of all. She lets him kiss her, kisses him back, and doesn’t seem bothered in the least that she’s latched herself onto the loopiest bean in the Bertie Botts bag.

She’s still chuckling as she pulls away, albeit decidedly more breathlessly.

“All right?” she asks.

James drops his forehead against hers. He wheezes, “Yeah, sure.”

“Liar.”

He shouldn’t laugh. How can he laugh? But between lingering kisses, he does. “Can’t snog the seethe or stupid out, I reckon,” he sighs.

“Ah, well. At least we gave it our best attempt.” Her hands drift down, playing with the lapels of his robes. His heart is doing its best to thump its way out of his chest and he’s certain she must feel it. “This is not a disaster,” she says.

“The snogging?”

“Well, that. Good on us, eh? Meant the rest too, though. It’s not as bad as you think.”

James pulls back, incredulous. “Yes, it is.”

“That—”

“Don’t coddle me.”

“I only meant—”

“Who was the tosser?” James interrupts again. “Dalton.”

Lily’s lips dip grimly. “Arsehole of the highest order, you had the right of it there. Left Business & Broomsticks for the Prophet a few months ago. Haven’t the faintest how he survived there, except for favors. He’s connected, if little more than a gossip columnist. But he’s a lead reporter now and he brings in subscriptions with his rot, so we’re all left to suffer.”

“Connected.” James repeats the word dully. A headache is forming. “Which means he might actually be able to owl round Fredrick Fords?”

Lily opens her mouth. Closes it. “I don’t know.”

James sighs again. As if it matters. As if the Puddlemere owner wouldn’t hear of it in any case. “Lovely.”

“You were defending a teammate,” Lily argues loyally. “Against the rubbish innuendos of a sensationalist fuckwit.”

“Don’t reckon Puddlemere will see it that way, do you?”

“Then they’re fuckwits, too.”

“Lily.”

“What? It’s true. You shouldn’t even be—” She stops, shakes her head. Seems to swallow something else down, and doesn’t let it come back up. “It’s true,” she repeats instead, definitively.

Not that simple. It’s not even remotely that simple. James runs a tired hand down his face, striving not to dwell on all the ways he’s drowning in the complications. The expectations. All of it. “I should’ve walked away.”

She can’t much argue with that. “Maybe. Likely. But even if you had done, he still would’ve made it into something. It’s what he does.”

“How?”

She hesitates. Fidgets. “You know.” She waves a hand. “ ‘Potter Avoids Questions About Jackson’s Loss: Silence Speaks Volumes’; or ‘Potter Panders to Press in Attempt to Save Face”; or “Abdel Jealousy Leaves Potter Mutely Fuming”; or—”

“Or?” James chokes out. “Or? You’ve more?”

Lily shrugs uneasily. “There’s a lot of ways to warp ‘no comment.’”

Fucking hell, James marvels. It took her not even three seconds to come up with those.

His stomach dips sourly.

She notices, of course.

“Don’t.” Her voice is sharp. Her fingers clench. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

The scathing look she shoots him makes it clear she doesn’t appreciate the dissembling. “You know what I do. You’ve always known. I’d never write that sort of rubbish. I’ve more morals than that.”

“Right.” He speaks quickly. Maybe too quickly. “Yes. ’Course. I know.”

“Do you?” She asks it pointedly. Her hand curves around his jaw, tilting his gaze down to square with hers. Her eyes are narrowed, assessing. She doesn’t pull away, but…

But her touch grows lighter, warier. Tense apprehension seems to drip from her—apprehension she has every right to feel, because she’s correct: he’s at odds and ends and she’s somehow found herself at the wrong end of it all. It’s not worth it to prevaricate. She’s already proven more than once that she’s got his number there. He’s fooling no one. But his mind’s too a-jumble, his equilibrium too off-kilter from the morning—Sirius, and Hoss, and the match, and Dalton, and all the rest of it. He wants to tell about it all, but he’s nearly certain it’ll come out all wrong: “Yes, all right, I thought all those things for a second…but only because I was up half the night with my best mate talking about how you might be using me for a story! And I’m on the brink of fucking up my whole future! Again! And the Dalton thing! And you just then! But really, I think you’re brilliant—”

Merlin, he’d want to punch himself. Already does, rather.

He opens his mouth. Shuts it. Gapes some more.

Fuck, he’s got to say something.

“James.” Her hand drops. Her voice is tight. “Look. This…us…we don’t need to do this—”

“What? No. No.” He frantically grabs for her hands again. “That’s not—that’s not what I want. That’s not what this is at all. I’m sorry. I’m an arse. I…” He brings her hand back up to his cheek and fairly droops into her cupped palm. “I never meant…I know you wouldn’t. I shouldn’t have made you feel like I had done. I’m just…I’m cross and panicked, all right? I’m angry with myself for the Dalton shite, and stressed about Puddlemere, and my mates are here, and you…you panic me most of all.” She blinks at that, and he rushes to explain. “I’m hanging on by a thread, see? The saddest, rattiest, threadbare string. These past few months…completely barking. Such a sodding splinching disaster. And I just…I dunno why you’d even consider it. This. Me. I’ve been trying to suss it out, trying to understand why in the hell either of us hasn’t run away screaming yet, and I’m at a loss. I’m a terrible bet. A precarious plot twist for you, all around. You see that, don’t you?”

Well, it wasn’t quite as bad as he thought it might be. He sounds like a raving lunatic, but all the better to make his point, isn’t it? He closes his eyes, taking comfort in the fact that she hasn’t pulled away yet, hasn’t even dropped her hand back down to her side. In fact, she takes his fumbling, bumbling declarations with likely more grace than he deserves.

Eventually, she exhales loudly. “James—”

He opens his eyes. “It’s been six days. Little more than a hundred hours. That’s how long we’ve known each other.”

“You’ve counted?”

“Well. You know.”

She bites her lower lip. “Do you want to run away screaming?”

“Sometimes,” he confesses. “Or at least, I reckon I ought to. Don’t you?”

“Sometimes,” she concedes with a rueful little smile. Her shoulders slump for a second, her chin dropping to her chest. Then she looks back up at him. “No use pretending, is it? Neither of us is stupid enough to ignore the obvious. Yes, my life would be infinitely easier if you were some dully average, virtually unimportant, struggling barkeep from Nowhere-shire instead of essentially the biggest commodity the sport has on offer right now and the largest contribution to my career and livelihood at the moment. I’d wish you a little less talented, a little less relevant, a little less you, except then I’d likely find you considerably less appealing and the whole thing would be moot. So you’re right—we’re pretty terrible bets for one another. For all my scruples, I could lose any bit of journalistic integrity I’ve garnered, maybe even get sacked for this. I know that. That’s…bad. Really, really bad.”

“I don’t want you to get sacked,” James says. “You’re brilliant.”

“You know what people will say, don’t you?” She gives him a pointed look. “That I’m using you. That I’m bartering my favors for stories. That you’re a naïve nodcock for letting it happen. That I’m biding my time until I can con my way into begetting an ill-gained bastard child to set myself up for life. That—”

James chokes out a laugh. “An ill-gained what?”

She waves a hand. “You know what I mean.”

He did, but her examples were nearly as colorful as Sirius’s. “Lily. I know you’re not ‘begetting’ anything.”

“You assume I’m not begetting,” she corrects. “But either way, it doesn’t mean other people won’t say it. People who don’t matter. People who do.”

People who do matter already had done…and yet, James was still here. Insanity, suppositions, and all. She was the first one he’d wanted when everything tilted sideways. Was the first one he’d wanted when the sideways had seemed to level out a bit earlier during the match, too. That said something, didn’t it?

He turns his head, dropping a kiss into her cupped palm still resting against his skin. “I don’t care. Do you?”

She lets out an unsteady huff. Her fingers curl. “A little, truthfully. But…well, here we are.”

“Here we are,” James agrees. He even manages a smile. “So glad we’ve cleared that up.”

“That we’re both utterly thick, self-sabotaging hedonists?”

“Might’ve gone with ‘mutually enamoured’ myself, but all right. Yours works, too.”

“No, I like yours. Straightforward.” She rises back up on her toes and fits her mouth against his properly, a long, lingering kiss. It’s a rush, a comfort. Mutually enamouring.

Nothing about this seems to be straightforward, but James reckons snogging Lily is about as close to it as it gets.

Which makes it a rather large pity—on numerous levels—when she tears her lips away from his.

“Shit,” she says. “I forgot. We have to go.”

“Go where?” James asks. He has no interest in going anywhere.

She straightens his robes, then licks her thumb and smudges it across his lips. “You’ve got lipstick everywhere.” She winces guiltily.

“It’s a new look,” James offers, and attempts to angle for some more by catching her mouth again.

She barely lets him get in a few pecks before she’s squirming away. “Come on, come on. Save it for later.”

Later gives him hope. She gives his arm a yank, and James lets out a quick hiss.

“Ah—careful. Shoulder,” he reminds her.

She skitters to a halt. “Oh, hell. I’m sorry. Is it still…you played so flawlessly this morning, I assumed—”

“Flawlessly?” James rears back. He grins. “Flawlessly, was it?”

She rolls her eyes and tugs at his non-injured arm. “Relatively,” she adds. “You know, compared to when you were flinching every time you so much as breathed yesterday.”

“Flawlessly,” James crows, as if she hasn’t spoken. They leave the alcove together. “Now, that’s a word. Come a long way from ‘decent’ and ‘adequate’, eh?”

“Come a long way from a lot of things,” she mutters. “Humility, among them.”

“Flawlessly—”

“Oh, good God—”

James’s smug laughter abruptly dies as they swerve past a particularly large crowd of spectators and he spots a specifically smaller crowd of three ambling toward them.

He rounds on Lily, grabbing hold of her shoulders, stopping her mid-blasphemy.

“Er.” He blinks at her. “So, listen.”

Her eyebrows lift.

“I would like you to recall,” he says hastily, quietly, “a few moments ago, when we both decided that we are suitably enamoured of one another and I would like you to hold on to that feeling very tightly. Right now.”

Her head tilts in question

“They mean well,” he adds. Then amends, “Some of them mean well.”

Which is all he manages to get out before his mates descend.

“Congrats on the spectacular loss!” Sirius calls, ruffling James’s hair with one hand. The other precariously balances a tall cup. “Rest assured, we cheered very hard for the other team.”

“Cheered ourselves nearly hoarse,” Peter agrees. “‘Rah, rah, Rodger!’”

“You hate Appleby,” James accuses.

Remus grins. “‘Hate’ is relative.”

James rolls his eyes, but sees Remus’s gaze flicker beyond James’s shoulder to where Lily still stands. He swallows down the snitches zooming about in his stomach, the feeling that some might call delighted eagerness or uncontrollable hysteria depending on the day, and clears his throat. “Lads, I’d like—”

Sirius thrusts his cup over James’s shoulder.

“Here,” he grumbles. “Do you have any idea how long that queue was? And you’ve awful penmanship, by the by. Couldn’t tell if that was a four or some kind of ancient hieroglyphic.”

James watches Lily’s smug grin flash as she takes the cup. “Got here, didn’t you? My penmanship is exquisite.” She takes a sip of the drink, and nods in satisfaction. “Excellent. Only 4,999 to go.”

“Excuse me? I believe you mean 4,998.” Sirius crosses his arms. “I brought you that butterbeer during the match.”

“That was an apology butterbeer. And far before terms were settled. Doesn’t count.”

“Doesn’t count? Doesn’t count?” Sirius whirls on the other two. “Does it count?”

“Of course not,” Remus says.

“Definitely doesn’t count,” Peter agrees.

“What? That’s—collusion!” Sirius rails. “Where is your loyalty?”

James can only blink, utterly bewildered, as the four begin to argue semantics of drinks, of terms, of timing and apologies, and most certainly of collusion (emphasis required).

James watches it all for several long moments.

What. Is. Happening? (Emphasis. Required.)

“What is—” He has to raise his voice to be heard. “Oy! What—what is this?”

“Collusion,” Sirius insists again with a decidedly outraged look. “Haven’t you been listening?”

James turns on Lily, because she seems the likeliest to be depended upon for reason. “These are my mates,” he tells her.

“I know.” Her smile is secretive, self-satisfied. “We’ve met.”

“Yes, clearly,” James says. “More interested in the how and the when, thanks.”

“Utter coincidence,” Sirius declares, at nearly the same time Lily baldly states, “I was shanghaied.”

Shanghaied.

“What?” James is not quite shouting, but not quite not. “What?”

“It wasn’t as bad as that,” Peter is quick to insist.

“It was as bad as that,” Remus concedes guiltily.

“There was,” Lily says, “this dog.”

James shoots a look at Sirius, who is now studiously examining the ceiling. “A dog.”

“Yes, a dog. On the stadium grounds. Very strange.” Lily talks animatedly with her hands. “So he comes up to me, then dashes away, and I’m following this dog round this remote corner, see? Because, why? And then I lose him—hey, where’d the dog go anyway? Where does one even get a dog around here? Or through security? It’s all…well, never mind, anyway, then I am surrounded by these three, and I kicked poor Peter in the shin—”

“Quite all right!” Peter rushes out, hands held high. “We did sort of skulk up on you.”

“Right—”

“Skulk.” James can barely manage the word. The image of all this so clearly unfolds in his head—every disastrous second of it—it’s really quite a wonder he can even speak at all. ”You skulked up on her.”

“I actually recognised Remus quickly enough,” Lily jumps in. “We were in Defense Club together at Hogwarts.”

“Defense Club.”

“Yes. Before I left. He was very good with Shield Charms. But see, I didn’t catch sight of him before I’d already kicked Peter—”

“—no harm done!—”

“—and Fuck Off there was looming a bit murderously, so I cannot be blamed—”

“It wasn’t murderous,” Sirius says. “That’s just my face.”

“—but it was sorted pretty quickly, all in all,” Lily finishes. And grins.

They are all grinning, in fact. Looking at him all innocently, all very ha-ha-isn’t-this-humorous-so-many-chuckles-no-harm-no-foul-let’s-move-on-shall-we? Like they haven’t…like they haven’t…

James attempts to regulate his breathing—attempts to regulate his outrage, and the need to howl, and wail, and maybe send prayers up to the heavens—and struggles to reach the ha-ha place of let’s-move-on.

But he’ll have to be forgiven for not quite getting there just yet.

He turns slowly toward his mates.

“All I asked,” he manages shortly, his voice chillingly measured and low, “is for you lot not to scare her off. That’s it. Be decent. Normal. At the barest level, don’t give her more reason to ditch me arse-over-head on the side of the pitch than I already have done all on my own. And yet that somehow, in your feeble minds, leaves amble room for shanghaiing her, in a dark corner, looming murderously, with a dog, to—to—”

“It wasn’t a dark corner,” Peter mutters. “There was plenty of light.”

James cannot even muster a response for that. Instead, he whirls on Sirius. “You!” He jabs a furious finger. “This was you.” Now Remus: “And you let him!”

Remus shrugs helplessly as Sirius scoffs, “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. You were clearly a biased party, and we just wanted to chat with her, Prongs.”

“Chat with her?” James shouts. “And you couldn’t chat with her later, at a perfectly normal location I’d already set up? Without the skulking and the bloody dog—”

“You are very hung up on this dog,” Lily says.

“I’m going to kill all of you,” James declares, glaring at the traitors he’d previously had the stupidity to consider family. “Kill you.”

“See? That’s murderous,” Sirius mutters to Lily.

James fairly lunges at him and Lily wraps an arm around his waist as Sirius dodges away with a cackle.

“James! Honestly.” Her arm squeezes him. “It’s fine. Fine.”

“It’s not fine!”

“It is,” she insists again, hand stroking and patting his side now. Like he’s a skittish lamb in need of coddling. “We had a good chat, that’s all.”

“About what?”

She presses her lips together, clearly still finding this humourous. “Intentions,” she says.

He shoots another deadly look at his mates.

“It’s all sorted now,” Lily continues. “After a bit of back and forth, we’ve all settled that I am in fact not after a promotion, or your fame, or your money, or—what was it, Sirius? The ‘begetting of an ill-gained bastard child to set myself up for life’?”

James’s eyes fly to Lily’s.

She winks.

Fucking hell. The colorful example wasn’t like Sirius’s. It was Sirius’s.

“Run screaming,” James advises her quietly. “Truly. Go on. Save yourself.”

“For the record,” the traitorous bastard James formerly called brother interjects, “I stated very clearly I’d still serve as godfather for any fruit of your loins, ill-gained or otherwise.”

“Bit difficult to do when you’ll be three leagues beneath the ground,” James retorts.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Really, she took this all loads better than you’ve done.”

“To be fair,” Lily adds, “I was bribed.”

James eyes her cup. Now it’s all starting to click together. ”With 5,000 beverages? You settled too low.”

She shakes her head. “Oh, no. That was a bet. Much later.”

“What, then?”

She takes a long sip of her drink, then innocently offers, “Pornographic banners, actually.”

Pornographic banners.

James chokes. He sputters. His head whips around to glare accusingly at Peter, who only shrugs helplessly. “What? Apparently she’s hot for Pot. Who could’ve known?”

James considers homicide. He considers suicide. He considers several other -cides, or possibly something that includes time travel, or sudden short-term amnesia, or even hypnotism, but in the end he merely settles on not quite meeting her eyes. “Er.” He coughs. “Those are…erm, fake.”

Except it comes out as “…fake?” rather more than “fake.”

He really wishes he could recall if they were fake.

Lily smiles like the cat that’s got the cream, seemingly equally as unconvinced by this claim. “Mm-hm.”

“It was cold in the room,” is what Sirius offers.

“We were all young and impetuous once,” is Remus’s input.

“I’ve got at least a dozen more,” Peter confides, and he grins like he means it.

Shite, he probably does mean it.

And then they are all speaking at once, which is sort of a relief and sort of isn’t, because Lily is looking intrigued and Peter is looking smug and Sirius is having far too much fun for someone who James only minimally has determined he no longer has to throttle immediately, and Remus is cocking his brows at James in that way that very clearly states, Yes, well, sorry, but it’s all wrapped up quite nicely, hm?

If a witch can somehow overlook being shanghaied by one’s mates, and was still willing to stand here a few hours later, bartering for pornographic banners like a wily grandmum taking on the grocer for her weekly vittles…

Well, that’s something, isn’t it?

Very, very much something.

The snitches inside James’s stomach are dancing. They are dancing in giddy, frantic, uncontrollable delight and he wants to hug someone and hit someone and really, the fraying string can keep fraying so long as he can hold this moment just here, right now, for quite a long time.

Click. Flash. In his brain. The good kind of click flash.

He is not the one who interrupts it. He has in fact joined in, unable to keep quiet after hearing Peter’s absurd claim that there is in fact a banner featuring a naked James lounging beside a sleeping lynx at the London Magical Menagerie (which had to be impossible…right?), when one of the ever-present exhibition errand lads squirms between the lot of them, thrusts a folded note at Lily, and says, “Here!”

She takes it absently, flipping it open as she’s still arguing, “…I don’t care how much money you’ve donated. They don’t let naked wizards stroll into the lynx cages at the London Magical Menagerie for drunken photoshoots.”

“No one said we asked,” Sirius says.

“That is so—” Lily jerks. She’d already been half ready to toss her arms in outrage, but her body instead stiffens as her eyes fixate on the note. Her mouth closes. She looks…perturbed?

“What is it?” James asks.

Instead of answering, she whips around and raises two fingers to her mouth. She lets loose a shrill whistle, and shouts out a pointed, “Oy!” to the errand lad who was already starting to scurry away through the crowds.

The boy turns back to her, exasperated.

Lily lifts the note. “This came from Hopper?”

The boy nods impatiently.

Lily closes the note and turns back around, the boy running off again behind them. She’s frowning, staring off at some dead space to their right. She appears to be more confused than anything else, but it’s certainly a far cry from her laughing teasing of moments before. When he touches her arm, she jumps, her gaze jerking up.

“All right?” he asks again.

“It’s…yes. Yes, fine.” She shakes her head, seems to attempt to shake off the moment, then quirks her lips gamely. “Sorry. Work. You know.”

“You’re not…in trouble?” he asks it softly, pointedly. “Not…you know, all this…?”

“What?” She blinks. “Oh. You and…? No. No, it’s fine. We’re fine. I just…” Her lips press together. She is watching him rather stringently, but James can’t discern whether that’s because she’s contemplating him specifically, or he’s simply an obstacle in the way of her distracted stare. He can practically see her mind whirling at lightning speed.

She starts again, and lets off an unsteady laugh. “Sorry, sorry.” She waves her hand. The closed note flutters between her fingers. “Sorry,” she tells his mates, too. She lifts the note. “I’ve got to take care of this. Work.”

“Sure,” Remus says, but his brow is a bit furrowed now, too.

“If you’d like to begin an exposé on nude Quidditch banners,” Peter states, “I am a very reliable source.”

Lily smiles more easily. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She turns back to James. “I’ll…I have to…but I’ll see you…?”

“Later?” James fills in. She nods, but certainly she’s acting strangely, isn’t she? Could it be something about Dalton? Lily had been witness to the whole thing. Maybe someone at the Prophet had questions. Could she get in trouble for that, if not their relationship (if he could indeed call it a relationship)? But then James feels a bit conceited for thinking everything was somehow about him. Likely, it wasn’t. Likely everything was fine. The news never stopped, did it? And this was her job. “Still reckon we ought to tour The Cornish Pixie with the lads? And you’ve 4,999 free drinks still coming, yeah?”

“4,998,” Sirius corrects. Then, again, “Collusion.”

They all, wisely, ignore him.

“Eight? Meet you there?” James asks Lily.

She nods. “Yes. That’s good.”

She says her goodbyes quickly—still rather jittery, half-distracted, but genuine enough despite the speed of the whole process. Before she takes off, she grabs James’s hand and squeezes it. He wishes she’d told him what was in the note and why it had thrown her, what’s zooming through that clever head of hers, but it seems not entirely his place. Likely, if they actually make a go of this, there will be numerous notes and tips and meetings where she won’t be able to tell him a thing. It might take a bit getting used to, but that doesn’t mean James can’t handle it. All of this was still incredibly new. Allowances had to be made for both of them to match their strides.

As she disappears into the milling crowds, James reckons it’s enough for now.

Besides…he has plenty to focus his attention on at present.

“So.” He turns back to his mates, claps his hands together. “Do I murder you lot now, or do we tuck in to some lunch first?”

LINK TO PART 7

#bcdaily #jily #jily*#eight days #my writing #trope fest

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ladyamandapanda12 · 6 years

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The King and I

The King and I Chapter 5 part 1

A/N: So I figured i had been sitting on the first 3000 words long enough. So here you guys go. I’ll try not to make Part 2 such long of a wait.

Summary: Tia has to leave London, and face her feelings for Chris. Can she leave so easily? Will she come back? And if she does will Chris wait for her? Is she going to be in the middle of an epic battle? Guess you’ll have to read to find out.

Tags: Adult situations, more so fluff then anything, angst

Word Count: 2,973

@@myluvislikewow @sergeantmistress @theycallmebecca @devikafernando @theflimmaker1999

“Tia do you have to go?” Sebastian peeped out. His face red, and streaming with tears.

Tia kneeled in front of him. “My little love, we go through this every time. You know I have to get back home. I have a lot of grown up stuff I must take care over there. I will be back soon, I promise. We can talk every week just like usual, and you can draw me pictures and write letters.”

“Bbbutt…BUT…I WANT YOU TO STAY HERE!!”

“SEBASTIAN….” Chris raised his voice to cut through the whining. “Do not yell at Tia. Am I understood?” Truth was Chris was not happy about Tia leaving either. And just like Sebastian his temper was on the rise as well.

“Tia please don’t go, we will miss you too much..” Henry said solemnly keeping his head down and eyes fixated on the red and gold carpet.

Tia motioned for Henry to come and stand in front of her. She whispered something in his ear, making sure to cover her mouth so no one else could hear it. Once she was finished he nodded at her and gave her a hug. “It will be our little secret okay?”

“Yes Tia.” He said with a little bit of hope in his voice.

Tia turned to give Sebastian her attention again, she hugged and kissed him. Telling him that she loved them both, and that they always have a place in her heart. Tia gave Henry a nod and henry took Sebastian’s hand and led him back inside. Only turning to wave goodbye once they reached the threshold of the palace.

“What was that about?”

“I told Henry that I was going to need his help, and he is helping me with Sebastian.” Chris nodded his head in agreement. He didn’t quite understand but he knew what was done is done.

“I love you my king...” Tia stepped forward and kissed his bearded cheek. Cupping the other side with her soft manicured hand. “…Please take care of yourself.” Chris leaned in and kissed the palm of her hand.

“I promise my queen. Please come back to me soon.”

“I will baby.”

Chris grabbed her waist and brought her closer to him. There was only a slight moment where their breaths hitched in anticipation. Then he crashed his lips on to hers and tightened his grip around her waist. Only when they broke for air did she realize that they had been kissing longer than expected.

“I have to go.” She whispered, eyes still closed while their heads leaned on each other’s for support.

“Please stay, we had so much fun the last two days. Especially yesterday morning.”

Tia had a flash back of yesterday morning.

“Sire Please!” Moans and gasps of air was all that was heard throughout his chambers. Tia’s pleas went unanswered. How she ended up on the shoulders of the king, with his head barried between her legs was a mystery to her. Especially because this was just supposed to be a ‘snuggle/cuddle’ sleep over. Between Chris ravaging her sweetness, and then pounding her into the next millenia love making lasted all morning.

Being pulled from her thoughts she knew she had to leave. “I can’t, not just yet my love. I promise I will be back, sooner than you think.” She grazed his nose with hers and kissed him again this time she slowly released his bottom lip.

“Eh hem. I’m sorry Tia, but if we don’t go you will miss check in.” Banks interrupted.

“See you later hun.”

“Bye my queen. Call me when you get home?”

Tia nodded and swiftly turned and climbed into the car. With a nod from Tia, Banks pulled off quickly. She knew to just go so no one changed their minds.

“Thanks lady, I could’ve stayed in his arms forever.”

“You have some explaining to do. The last time I saw you, you wanted nothing to do with him. Now I’m pulling you guys apart. What In The Actual Fuck??”

“It has been a crazy week girl.”

~~~~~~

It had been a month since Tia had left London. She had received at least 20 pictures from the boys a piece. Drawings of their days, what they had for lunch, and dinner, who they played with that day the usual. They talked on the phone every week. Sebastian on Mondays, Henry on Wednesdays, and Chris every other night light clock work. Damn did she miss her men. But it wasn’t going to be too much longer. She had a trick up her sleeve, which would get her back to England sooner than expected. Until then she went on about her normal life. As much as she can anyway. She was ready to go back, London was her home now.

Only a few short more weeks had passed before she had gotten the phone call she was waiting for.

“Hey Max! What’s going on?” Max was the PR manager for Tia’s latest project.

“You ready to go back to London?”

“FINALLY!”

“Ha ha ha I will take that as a yes. The premiere is on the 21st that gives you a week, before you hit the carpet.”

“Totally manageable! I got this.”

“Oh, Tia? Try not to disappear until after the premier. Yeah?”

“I make no promises. See you next week.”

This was it. She was finally going back to her home. I hope they are ready. Lord now what am I going to wear. She thought to herself, as she moved through the look books for her red-carpet look.

Meanwhile back in London a week days later….

“Daddy, daddy, daddy guess what I saw today!!! Daaaaad! Where’d you go??”

“I’m in the office little prince!” Sebastian ran down to the end of the corridor where he found his father sitting at his big mahogany desk. Dressed in 3-piece suit, with onyx loafers.

“Guess who I saw on tv today!”

Chris chortled as the little one ran across the room and passed Chris's entourage. He hopped on his lap wide eyed in excitement.

“What’s that buddy?”

“The Rock and Tia! They are coming here for a pre..pre…Remayor.”

“A premiere?” Chris asked.

“Yeah that’s what I said a pre..pre..Remayor! She will be here tomorrow night. Can we please, please, please stay up to see her walk the red-carpet daddy?”

“I will think about it buddy.” Not willing to take no for an answer Sebastian pulled out the big guns. His famous puppy dog stare and pouty lip. “You suck that lip back in mister. I said I will think about it.”

“But I miss her, she’s like mommy I need her here with us.” Chris’s heart melted. How could he say no to this? His son was truly hurt, and all he wanted was to see his mom. Which in this case Tia held that spot for him.

“Bud do you remember mommy?” Chris asked

“My real mommy?” Chris nodded in agreement. Sebastian turned to a photo on the credenza behind him and pointed. “That’s her, she went to heaven a little while ago. I miss her, but I know she wants me to be happy. She.. she… wants all of us to be happy. I'll always love her.”

Tears welling up in Chris’s eyes. “You know buddy you’re right, and a very smart young man. You are going to be a great human being which is all I want for you and your brother.” Chris kissed the top of Sebastian’s forehead and the little one hugged his neck and jumped off his lap.

“Besides she thinks Tia is pretty cool too.”

“Alright buddy you can stay up tomorrow and watch.”

“Woohoo!” Sebastian sprang out of his father’s lap and ran out of the office to go tell Henry. Chris was left sitting in his office chair pondering the conversation that just transpired. Maybe it was time to make Tia apart of the family officially. Wait did he just say she thinks Tia is pretty cool?

~ ~

It was great to be back in London. To feel the energy, the smell, the sound, it just felt like home. Premiere night was tonight! Tia had sung and composed a couple of songs for the movie, and had a couple of scenes with the rock as his stand in girlfriend. No biggie, everyone has a scene with the rock, right? First thing first info meetings.

Everyone managed to arrive at the Marriott within an hour of each other. Max was standing at the head of the conference table debriefing everyone.

"Good morning everyone I know it's early so I’ll make this quick. Alright so we have a little over 12 hours before premiere time. Everyone needs to be there on time. Even though this the last one doesn’t mean we can start slacking. Secondly, I want everyone to go out for an hour be seen. Create some excitement like how cool is it if the rock is at the local coffee shop?"

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Tia Dwayne if you guys could go out together that would be great. Actually, whomever is your 'partner in crime' in the movie try to go together."

"So, your majesty where you wanna go? This is your city."

Tia chuckled "Oh my city huh? Just because I’m here all the time doesn’t make it my city. Well I guess it does. But I’m not royalty. Let’s see we can go easy and go to the eye? It's quick, fun, you get a great view of the city, always a good crowd, and the best part quick. We could be back here and asleep in no time."

"My sistah let's do it to it."

After they unloaded their suitcases, Dwayne and Tia left straight for the eye. Making sure to grab her vlogging camera so she can make a video about it later.

The ride was amazing. It truly is the best way to see the city. Word had spread fast about their outing. Of course, it was almost peak tourist season so the little outing was not a letdown. It was almost 10am and they had made the daily news website. Pretty crazy considering they had only been out for about an hour.

Only problem is that the quick media coverage blew the whole surprise. Tia wasn’t too much worried about the boys since they were still in school. It was Chris she really wanted to surprise. Maybe he hasn’t seen it yet? She thought to herself. Only 4 minutes passed before she got her answer in the form of a text message.

But before she could check her messages Rock called to her. “Tia. The car is here. Let’s go back.” Once situated she immediately checked her messages. Sure enough it was Chris and he didn’t sound too happy about the surprise.

Chris: So, you were just going to sneak in and sneak out or what?

Tia: Of course not!! I was going to come see you tonight, after the premiere.

Chris: You know that I try to have the boys in bed by 10.

Tia: I know, I'm counting on that...I wasn’t coming for the boys tonight... I figured I would surprise them at breakfast.

Chris: Oh yeah? Well who exactly where you coming to see tonight then?

Tia could tell that he was softening up. So, she decided to mess with him just a little.

Tia: Are you actually going to make me say it?

Chris: Text it. But, Yep!

Tia: 'huffs' finnnee smart ass. Maurice dammit, I'm coming for his flautas! You happy?

Chris: You are an awful tease woman!

Tia: Who said anything about being a tease?

Chris: What if I don’t want to wait until tonight? What if I want you before then?

Tia: Well I’m on the way to the hotel to start pre-getting ready. I’m sure I could squeeze you in for a quickie ;-).

Chris: What if I don’t want a quickie?

Tia: Then I’ll see you tonight after the premiere.

Chris: Well fine then. I'll see you tonight my queen.

“Who you texting over there? Must be a man you are blushing hardcore over there.” Dwayne said.

Tia immediately blushed. “I guess you could say he’s my boyfriend.”

“Is he here?”

Tia nodded.

“No disappearing young lady.” He said while wagging his finger at her. Tia couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t worry I won’t disappear until after the premier.”

“Oh, okay cool then. Wow that was a short ride. How come we didn’t walk?”

“Seven miles on foot? I’m not that adventurous.” She stated plainly.

“Alright well, I’ll see you tonight then. Say hi to the boyfriend.”

“Will do.”

-----

Getting ready for the premiere was like clockwork for Tia. Facial, mani-pedi, deep tissue massage, and a v-steam. Hair and make-up was right on time at 4 o’clock. It took a total of 2 hours to get ready. She was on the red carpet just in time. Camera flashes everywhere as she walked down the red carpet in her emerald green dress. She realized she had missed the attention, then quickly remembered once a photographer made a very inappropriate cat call at her why she left it. Tia had managed to make it into the theatre, and in her seat without any hiccups. As she looked around the packed auditorium all she could think about was getting to Chris. She had really missed her man, and the teasing text messages earlier didn’t help. All they did was add oxygen to the fire that was already flaming pretty high within her.

“Eh hem!!!...” Showtime Tia thought to herself Only 2 hours and 21 minutes until this is over then a quick peak into the after party then I’m out. “… Ladies and gentlemen tonight is a special night indeed. Not only is this the last stop on the premiere tour…” Applause “…But tonight we are joined by a very special and most honorable guest. His Royal Highness King Christopher Robert Evans the first!!” Tia’s heart skipped a beat. Everyone stood up and clapped and cheered for Chris as if he had won an Oscar for his performance. Granted he was the king and he looked especially dashing in his 4-piece Alexander McQueen suit. Chris smiled and greeted the room. “Thank you for letting me attend on short notice. I know these premieres are planned out months in advance.”

“Well of course your highness. You are always welcome! Unfortunately, we don’t have the royal box cleaned and outfitted for you. It will only take but a few moments.”

“Non-sense I will sit in the audience, just because I’m king doesn’t me I’m better. I will be honored to sit among the fine actors and actresses that made this film.”

Applause

Damn he’s good! Tia thought to herself.

“Well of course your highness please take a seat anywhere.” Chris gave a swift nod in appreciation and left the stage. As he walked down the aisle he found his seat. Wouldn’t you know that there was one right next to Tia. She was Six seats in and he would be seated to the right of her.

“Do you mind Miss. Tia?”

Tia stood up quickly and gave a short courtesy. “Of course not your majesty. I would be honored! Please sit.” Chris moved to sit next to her, and Tia appeared unfazed. She had to be there was essentially a whole auditorium watching them. Once everyone was settled and the movie began that’s when the fun began. Chris leaned over and whispered in her ear. His breath warm and smelled of cigars and peppermint. Tia hated that he smoked, but she was the first to emit she loved the way his kisses tasted after he had did though.

“You look gorgeous my Queen.”

“Thank you baby. I thought we were going to meet a little later. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my quickie.” Tia's eyes went wide. Only thing she could do was to try and keep her cool. So without taking her eyes off the screen she leaned over and answered him in a hushed voice. “Oh really? Well unfortunately your royal highness, that window of opportunity has closed. However after the after party, I might be able to help you pry open that pesky window open.”

Chris was a little taken aback by her response. If she wanted to tease, he could definitely show her a good tease. “Or… I can loosen up the hinges on that window. And take my appetizer now.” With one fluid motion he took off his jacket and put it in his lap. One of his security gestured to take it and Chris shook his head in disagreement. He placed his arm around Tia’s shoulders and the women 2 rows behind them gasped. All Chris could do was chuckle. He placed his jacket across Tia’s lap. “You are a very good girl for wearing a dress that has a slit so high." As Chris moved his hand up the slit up her thigh Tia widened her legs for him. Chris slid his hand further up her leg, the further he went he could feel the heat coming off her warm sex. Tia let out a small hiss, then all of a sudden Chris stopped. His attention focusing on to one of his security guards. He was speaking into his cuff link, that Chris could hear through an ear piece. He gave a swift nod, and turned his attention back to Tia. “I have to go. But I’ll see you tonight my love.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. I love you my queen.”

#the king and i #Chris and Tia #woc ofc #part 1 of 2

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