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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

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fall apart when it hurts too much

i had like three ideas for this fic so here’s all of them smashed together! ft. carlos and tk actually not being physically perfectly fine after being trapped in a fire, breakdowns in the shower, and an actual apology for that scene.

It's the smallest thing that breaks him, in the end. Ever since the fire, Carlos has been trying to keep a lid on everything, trying not to shatter even though he's been on the verge for hours now. He makes it to the shower, desperate to scrub the stench of smoke from his body, and then he just—

He drops the soap.

ao3 | 2.9k | 2.12 spoilers

Carlos barely makes it five steps from their house before his knees are hitting the tarmac, falling to all fours as his body heaves and shakes with coughing. He can’t catch his breath, and panic lights up in his chest, fingernails scrabbling at the ground despite the pain. Hands are on him, too big and rough to be TK’s, but Carlos doesn’t have a chance to work out who they belong to before they’re shifting under his arms, dragging him backwards even as their house explodes, a blast of intense heat washing over them.

If he had any breath left in him, Carlos is certain it would have abandoned him in that moment. Everything he’s spent years building for himself, all gone in the blink of an eye. It’s too much, and he collapses back down the second whoever’s holding him lets go. His eyes are streaming, a combination of irritation from the smoke, the tightness in his lungs, and a terror that he suspects won’t leave him for a long, long time.

He gasps, forehead pressed to the concrete, and then hands are on him again, but these—these, he knows. Carlos sags gratefully into TK’s arms, allowing him to pull him close and resting his head on TK’s chest, right above his heart.

He still can’t really breathe, and judging by the ragged gasps from above him, TK isn’t faring much better. But his heart is beating.

They’re alive.

Carlos closes his eyes, drifting away from himself as the fire continues to burn and the wail of sirens cut through the night air. TK curls his body around him and Carlos clings to that security with both hands. It means they made it out; somehow, they made it out.

TK’s lips press against his cheek, then his mouth shifts to his ear, voice rough yet still soothing when he speaks. “Baby, we need to move,” he says. “We gotta — They gotta check us out.”

Carlos feels himself nodding, but it’s the only movement he can manage. His entire body is trembling and his mind is frozen, replaying the last five minutes over and over on repeat.

God, had it only been five minutes?

“Come on.” TK tugs at his arm and, after a few tries, Carlos manages to get his limbs to cooperate long enough to begin to rise. A dizziness comes over him without warning and he stumbles, nearly pulling them both back to the ground; it occurs to Carlos that TK can’t be any more steady than he is. They’d been in there for the same time, after all.

Judd catches Carlos before he falls, and he sees through blurred vision Owen doing the same for TK. They’re led - or, rather, carried - to the ambulance, the flashing lights cutting through Carlos’s already pounding skull, and carefully lowered down onto the step. Unthinkingly, Carlos grabs TK’s hand, unsure if the tremor in the touch is coming from him or TK.

Oxygen masks are secured over both their faces and shock blankets wrapped around their shoulders, the soft material comforting. A kind-looking paramedic kneels in front of them, asking them questions about symptoms as she wraps burns Carlos didn’t even realise he’d acquired. He barely manages a nod or a head shake at the appropriate moments, his brain struggling to catch up with it all.

He’s so tired. All he wants is to be asleep in their bed, in TK’s arms, and for this to be a horrible nightmare he’s yet to wake from.

But their bed is gone. Their home is gone, ashes, only the twisted remnants of metal supporting beams left behind.

He’s shaking again, his chest constricting and causing him to cough despite the oxygen mask. Tears fall hot and fast down his cheeks and he practically falls onto TK, hands fisting in the blanket.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobs when he’s caught his breath enough to speak, pulling the mask down. “I’m so sorry.”

TK shushes him, hands running soothingly up and down his back. “It’s okay. This wasn’t your fault. We’re going to be okay.”

“But we almost weren’t.” He pulls back to meet TK’s eyes, the first time since Owen and Billy came bursting in. “I—I thought we weren’t going to make it. I should have had a fire extinguisher upstairs, this should never have… I...”

He cuts himself off, talking becoming an impossibility. TK cradles him close, kissing his head gently and whispering reassurances into his hair. Carlos hangs onto every word, not really believing them, but wanting to desperately.

By the time the paramedic ushers them into the ambulance, Carlos’s tears have eased, but the gaping pit in his chest has only grown.

He wishes he could wake up now.

They’re at the hospital for a few hours, run through a myriad of tests before they’re both declared fit to leave. A smiling nurse gives them the news, telling them that they’ll be home before they know it.

Neither of them have the energy or the ability to correct her.

Carlos’s parents come to pick them up, his mom producing a bag of fresh clothes for both of them. Where she got them from, Carlos doesn’t know, and he doesn’t ask. He hasn’t said much at all since the fire despite TK’s many attempts to get him to talk, leaning into the doctor’s advice not to do anything that might irritate his throat. He’s not sure what he’s even supposed to say; their house is gone, and that’s… That’s that.

His mom loops her arm through his and walks him through the corridors and out of the hospital. Carlos only half-listens to her talk about fixing up his room for them and what she’s planning on cooking for dinner tonight; he still feels the stench of smoke and ash clinging to his skin, even though they were able to clean up a little at the hospital. He itches with the need to wash it all off, to scrub until his skin cracks and bleeds and the pain eclipses that which lingers in his bones.

TK seems to sense how he’s feeling, constantly providing support in one form or another the entire drive to his parents’ house. Carlos feels guilty for not checking on him, but he’s seconds from shattering. If he tries to focus on anything other than holding himself together, he knows he’ll break.

He realises that makes him a shitty boyfriend, but… But.

His childhood home soon comes into view, a part of Carlos relaxing at the sight. He’s beyond grateful that they came here instead of going to Owen’s; he needs every comfort he can get right now, his mother’s cooking and his abuela’s stitched blanket second only to TK on that list.

He turns to TK as the car comes to a stop, squeezing his hand gently. “This isn’t how I’d imagined bringing you home for the first time,” he jokes, trying for a smile, but it falls flat. TK gives him a token smile anyway, the same weariness Carlos is feeling heavy in his gaze.

“I’m looking forward to seeing what teenage Carlos was like.”

“You already know,” Carlos points out. “I’m pretty sure my mom spilled every story there is the other night when we were… Well, you know.”

TK nods. “Yeah,” he says, his voice a mere whisper. Carlos doesn’t get it, how even the slightest thought of their house can send him spiralling, but he guesses that it’s just another thing he’ll have to deal with now. As if there wasn’t already enough.

He doesn’t get a chance to think on it any longer, his parents calling for them to come inside, his mother practically shoving the two of them upstairs. Carlos leads TK to his old room by the hand, the decorations almost untouched since he moved out.

“You can just…” He waves around, gesturing vaguely to the bed. “Make yourself comfortable, I guess. I’m going to shower, you can go in after me if you want, or I won’t mind if you just want to sleep. Bathroom is the door at the end of the hall.”

TK chews on his lip, not letting go of Carlos’s hand just yet. “I can join you?” he offers, but Carlos shakes his head.

“It’s pretty small in there. Better not.”

TK doesn’t look like he believes him (and why would he? it is a lie, after all) but he nods and lets go. Carlos lingers for a second, then leaves, grabbing the bag of clothes his mom left on his way.

He manages to scrub himself fully once before it happens. There’s still a slight tremble to his hands as he reaches for the soap again, the feeling of being unclean sticking to him, and he just—

He drops the soap.

It shouldn’t be a big deal. Carlos stares at where it’s fallen, willing himself to just pick it up and carry on, because that would be the sensible thing to do, right? The normal thing?

But he can’t. Everything—the fire, the house, the goddamn soap—is suddenly all too much, and Carlos has to brace himself against the tiles as emotions he’s tried so hard to ignore pour out of him in a wave of grief and sorrow and despair. He presses his fist to his mouth and squeezes his eyes shut, cries wrenching from his mouth, so loud that he doesn’t hear the gentle knocking at the door.

“Carlos?”

Carlos gasps, straightening as TK’s voice cuts through the noise. “I’m okay, I’ll just be a second,” he calls, but obviously he’s not convincing enough as the door creaks open, TK’s face falling when he catches sight of him.

“Oh, Carlos.”

TK steps into the room, silently undressing and stepping into the shower with him. He bends and grabs the soap from where it fell and creates a lather on his hands, looking to Carlos for permission before going any further.

Carlos wordlessly nods, so TK begins rubbing the suds over his body, touch soft and feather-light. They don’t say a word, and it’s not… It’s not relaxing, exactly - Carlos doesn’t think he can relax tonight - but it’s… It’s something. It means he’s not alone, which is all Carlos could ask for in this moment.

A slight pressure on his shoulder tells him to turn around, so Carlos puts his back to TK, facing the spray of the showerhead. He doesn’t know why, but not having to look at him makes it easier, somehow, to say the words that have been spinning in his mind since this nightmare began.

“I’m so sorry, TK,” he whispers. “If we had just had an extinguisher, then—”

“Then, nothing,” TK interrupts, not pausing in his motions. “I used to be a firefighter, Carlos; I know from experience that when a fire burns like that, nothing can stop it. My dad, Billy, and Judd all had extinguishers, and they barely made a dent.”

“I still should have done more. You were so calm, and I was just panicking.”

“Firefighter. I’ve been in plenty of burning buildings before; you haven’t. And, trust me, I was scared too.” TK sighs, his hands stilling on Carlos’s shoulders for a brief second before resuming. “Listen to me,” he whispers fiercely, planting a kiss between his shoulder blades. “You have nothing to apologise for, you hear me? Nothing.”

When Carlos wakes the next morning, TK is sitting on the edge of the bed, back to him, his hands twisting together in his lap. The set of his shoulders is tense, and Carlos can imagine the look on his face right now. He pushes himself up onto an elbow and reaches out, intending on comforting TK the way he’s done so many times over the course of their relationship.

What he’s not expecting is for TK to flinch away like his touch burns. Carlos frowns, sitting up fully and crawling over the bed to sit next to him. “Babe?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

TK shakes his head, subtly—though, not subtle enough—shifting away from him until there’s a clear gap between their bodies. It’s so far removed from last night when they could barely stand to let go of each other, and Carlos has no idea what’s causing it.

“TK?” he tries, keeping his hands to himself this time. “Please, TK, talk to me.”

It takes another agonising minute before TK finally, slowly, turns his gaze to Carlos. His eyes are wet and red-rimmed, and he can’t seem to look directly at him for longer than a few seconds. He clears his throat roughly, rubbing the material of his borrowed sweats between his fingers.

“Remember last night?” he says quietly. “When I said you had nothing to apologise for? I meant that—you don’t, but I do.” TK takes a trembling breath, then turns to him with a gasp. “Carlos, I—”

“Stop,” Carlos interrupts, shaking his head. He thought they’d moved past this; he doesn’t want to think about it anymore. “I already told you, it’s okay. You were in shock, you were angry… I get it, okay? You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Yes, I do.”

“TK—”

“Carlos, please.” A couple of tears slip down TK’s cheeks and he doesn’t bother to wipe them away, a desperate look in his eyes. Carlos hesitates, then sighs and nods, gesturing for him to continue. “Thank you. I… If I thought it meant anything, I would say that I’m sorry a thousand times over. I mean, I am, of course I am, but they’re just words, right? The same as saying I wish it had never happened in the first place, because the point is that it did happen and I can’t ever take it back. You had done nothing but support me, and I just—I hit you. There’s no excusing that. I don’t even know if there’s any forgiving that.”

Carlos frowns. “Of course there is.”

“Well, maybe there shouldn’t be.” TK looks down at his lap, shoulders curved inwards. “I wanted to use so badly that night,” he admits. “I was going out of my mind over my dad, and I’d convinced myself that I’d lost you. That I was going to lose you both. It was so tempting to go to the nearest bar or dealer and make it all go away for a while.

“Then I realised that I would only be hurting more people if I did, and I couldn’t do that. I’m not… This isn’t me trying to excuse what I did to you. You don’t deserve that, and I understand completely if you can’t trust me anymore, or even if you want me to leave. I’ll do it, whatever you want, just say the word. I can’t take it back, but I’ll do anything so that you feel safe.”

TK sniffs, his head bowed so low he’s almost folding in half. Carlos hesitates, then slowly reaches out, taking TK’s hands in his own. “TK, look at me?” he asks softly.

TK does, pain written all over his face, and it breaks Carlos’s heart again.

“I forgive you,” he says, squeezing as tight as he dares. “I forgive you. You might not think you deserve it, but I promise you that you do. I won’t pretend that what happened didn’t hurt me, but I understand why you did it.” He pauses, weighing his next words carefully before he speaks, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Not that he thinks TK will react like before again, but he refuses to make him feel any worse about the situation.

He makes sure he has TK’s eyes on him before speaking, keeping his voice as calm as possible. “But,” he starts, sighing heavily, “you are right. It’s not an excuse, and we are going to have to deal with this soon. Maybe not right now, but we need to have a conversation about these defence mechanisms of yours and how we can make sure you don’t feel the need to fall back on them again.”

TK nods. “I’m going to go to a meeting tomorrow, and I’ll talk to my therapist as soon as I can. I’ll… I’ll be better, Carlos, I swear.”

“I know you will.”

Carlos shifts closer so he can wrap an arm around TK. He stiffens at the touch, but slowly leans into it, carefully resting his head on Carlos’s shoulder.

“I don’t deserve this,” he mumbles.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Carlos counters.

TK snorts. “I think you’ve given me about thirty.”

“And you’ve deserved every single one.” He kisses the top of TK’s head and strokes his side. “I don’t think you could ever do anything bad enough to drive me away. That’s not who you are, TK. You’ve made mistakes, yes, but I love you and I will keep loving you even if you think I shouldn’t because I know my boyfriend and I know he’s a good man.”

TK sniffles, his arms coming up to wrap around him. He hesitates a second, a palm hovering over Carlos’s chest, trembling in mid-air as the seconds drag out. Carlos holds his breath, waiting, then smiles as TK slowly brings it down, letting it rest just over his heart.

The touch is light, barely there, but it’s something. It’s progress.

They’re both more than a little broken, more than a little hurt, but they can heal. They will heal, as long as they’re together.

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jjmaybanksbaby · 3 years

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Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer I

Part 01: Pick Me Up, No Headlights

series masterlist | next part

summary: It’s your first summer in the Outer Banks.

a/n: I'm so so so excited to introduce my new obx series! This whole thing is based off the song Style by Taylor Swift (which I'm sure you've picked up on lol!) This series is going to be about Rafe during HS so Summer I = the summer before 9th grade and so on and so forth. Enjoy!!

word count: 2k

The Outer Banks was a little bit like a fantasy. The way your mom talked about growing up under the North Carolina heat with her fearless twin brother, Austin, the decades-long feud between the Kooks and the Pogues, the endless summers, it all felt like a movie. There was a specific smile that snuck onto her face when she talked about the place. Their parents had moved away from OBX to the mountains while she was still in college and she’d never been back. Last September, her father's health had taken a turn for the worse and he passed away rather unexpectedly. Your uncle had suggested to your grandmother that she should move back to the Outer Banks since she was also so happy there. To the shock of everyone and your Nonna bought a house on Figure Eight, just a street over from the home your mother been raised in, and moved back to NC.

You’d flown into the tiny Outer Banks airport two days after the Fourth of July and, so far the sky had stayed crystal blue the entire week you’ve been there. It had been great to have some time with your grandmother all to yourself. The house on Figure Eight was huge; you definitely understood why she’d asked your mother if she would spare one of her three daughters to keep her company for the summer. Having the echoing house all to herself sounded glum. Your older sister was spending the summer in Italy for a college-writing program and since you know how to weaponize your middle child charm, you talked your mom into sending you to OBX rather easily.

“Nonna,” you called down, leaning over the balcony at the top of the stairs. “I can’t find my sandals and I don’t have any other shoes to wear to the Club for lunch.”

Your grandmother walked into the foyer and looked up at you. “y/n you know I can’t understand you when you yell from upstairs.” She turned around and walked back into the kitchen. You sighed under your breath careful that she didn’t hear you since you’d gotten in trouble for doing that yesterday.

Your mother use to complain about the way that her mom always felt the need to act - and have her children act - so posh during her childhood but those stories seemed so strange to you. Like a Nonna from a past life, not the one you knew. However, it seemed the Outer Banks had reignited her need to act sophisticated all the time.

You double-check your appearance in the mirror and then resigned to searching the downstairs of the house for your shoes.

☼☼☼

Nonna was busy making small talk with some of the other ladies at the Club after lunch but you were antsy to get back to the beach while the sun was still at its peak. You had had all the polite smiling and nodding you could take in an afternoon.

“I’m gonna- ” you pointed in the direction of the Club bathrooms and your Nonna waved her hand dismissively. You turned on your heel and headed away from her and the others.

You pushed open the door and was surprised at the quietness. You double-checked under all the stalls to make sure no one else was in there before sitting on the counter and resting the back of your head against the mirror. You knew you were probably smudging the glass but you needed a minute from all it.

It wasn’t that you weren’t totally in love with the Outer Banks. It was just that your mom seemed to leave out the strenuously boring parts of her childhood - the small talk, the lunches, the emphasis on class. Plus, on top of that, it seems your grandfather’s death has rattled your Nonna deeper than she cared to admit and she’d become overly cautious about everything. She was keeping a much tighter leash on you than was really needed, or so you thought.

The door swung open and you jumped off the counter hoping whoever had just entered didn’t see you sitting atop it. The young girl stopped rummaging in her cross-body bag and glanced look to meet your gaze. She had on a green and white polka-doted dress and her dirty blonde hair spilled over her shoulders. She looked young, maybe 13 or 14 you guessed.

“Oh. Hi!” She said.

“Hi,” you responded. She walked over to stand next to you facing the mirror. She pulled a pink lipgloss out of her purse and ran it over her top and bottom lips before recapping it.

“Hiding out in here?” She asked. She took your moment of hesitation as an answer. “Yeah, me too. It’s by far the best hiding place. Plus my dad can’t come into the ladies' restroom so it buys me a little time.” She laughed, seemingly at the thought of her dad barging into a women’s bathroom. She looked over at you. “Not to pry but I don’t think I’ve seen at the Club before. Just visiting?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m staying with my Nonna, my grandma, for the summer. I got in last week.”

The girl smiled big. “The Outer Banks is ah-mazing. Sarah Cameron, by the way.”

Her genuineness brought a smile to your own face. “I’m so happy to meet you, Sarah. I’m y/n. I haven’t gotten to meet a lot of other kids yet.”

“I’m not really supposed to know this but my brother talks obnoxiously loud on the phone so it’s really not my fault for eavesdropping, but there’s a beach bonfire tonight down at the cove...it’s a Kook party spot.” She clarified after seeing the confusion on my face. “I’m sure he’d be cool with you tagging along.” Sarah reached into her bag and held out her phone. “Put your number in. I’ll pass it along to him.”

“Thank you so much,” you said, your heart feeling warmed by this girl's kindness.

“Yeah, of course,” she stepped forward and wrapped you in an unexpected hug before she exited, leaving the door swinging in her wake.

☼☼☼

Your phone rang with an unknown number that afternoon around five, just after you’d gotten back from the beach. You answered the call and tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder as you finished rinsing off your sandy feet.

Sarah’s voice filled the speaker. “Hey y/n, so I told Rafe about you and asked about the party. He said he’ll pick you at 10. Okay? Text me your address so I can give it to him.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay! Umm...one question Sarah. What do I wear to this bonfire?” You asked.

A friendly laughed echoed through the phone. “Put your bikini under a sweatshirt and some short. You’ll be fine.”

“Um also one more thing,” You said.

“Sure!” Sarah replied.

“I think don’t think my Nonna would be too thrilled about me going to this party so could you ask Rafe to turn off the headlights when he get’s here. She sleeps on the first floor and I’m trying not to get caught sneaking out.”

“Trust me, I know.” You wondered how much 13-year old could possibly know about sneaking out but Sarah was becoming your one friend on the island so you just went with it.

“Thank you Sarah. I owe you.”

“I think you’re gonna get along with Rafe great. Okay, talk to you later. Bye y/n!” The phone beeped as Sarah ended the call. You slipped it back into your beach bag and grabbed your towel off the ground, feeling grateful for your new friend.

☼☼☼

Rafe had shown up at 10:03, a text from another unknown number appeared on your phone announcing his arrival. You'd climbed out of your second-story window and down the attached porch with a surprising amount of ease, only slipping once.

You'd opened the door to the black car and slipped into Rafe’s passenger seat, slight of breath.

Rafe chuckled light. "Hi," he said.

You glanced over, your eyes locking with yours and words escaped you. So Sarah has forgotten to mention her brother was hot. Like the kind of hot girls always giggled about when they passed him in the school hallway. The kind of hot he could probably get away with murder if he just flashed the cops a smile.

That same deadly smile was spreading across his face now. His tongue darted out of his mouth wetting his bottom lip.

"Hi," you squeaked out.

Rafe shifted the car into drive, still refusing to break the eye contact first.

"Should we go?" You asked, your nerves no less unsettled.

Rafe raised his eyebrow conspicuously before turning his head back to focus on the road.

The tension was already killing you and you'd spent less than five minutes together. That was the first moment you realized what Rafe was going to do to your life.

☼☼☼

Your phone pinged as you say around the little bone fire listening to the others talking about the Fourth. You were slowly starting to piece together the names and faces of the other Kooks Rafe had introduced you to.

There was Cole, Milo and Sawyer, who seemed to be Rafe's best friends. Cleo and Riley who welcomed you rather warmly. And Phoebe who had kept her eyes on you all-night in a threatening way that you had tried your best to brush off.

You pulled your phone out of your shorts pocket to see a text from Rafe on the screen.

'Wanna head out?'

You glanced at Rafe to find his eyes already trained at you. You read his text again before nodding your head yes at him.

You turned to Cleo sitting next to you. "It was nice to meet you. I think Rafe and I are gonna go."

"Oh, yeah okay!" She replied. "Wait," she pulled her own phone out of her pocket. "Put your number in. I'll add you to all our group chats. Rafe made it seem like you're gonna be around this summer so you're welcome to hang with us anytime!"

"Yeah, I'm here through August!" You said, smiling at Cleo's offer, taking the phone from her hand.

While you were typing your number into Cleo's phone, Rafe had materialized behind you.

"Thank you so much," you said handing Cleo back her phone.

"Of course!" Cleo replied, her eyes shifting away from your face to look up at Rafe. "Bye Rafe."

"See you later Cleo," he said. "Ready?" He asked looking down at you.

"Hmmhmm," you said before standing up, waving bye to the rest of the group and following Rafe back to his parked car.

"I didn't have anything to drink tonight," Rafe said as you settled into the passenger seat next to him.

"Okay," you replied, thinking back on the night but not remembering Rafe with a solo cup in his hand ever.

"Okay," he repeated back. "I just want to make sure you knew. I wouldn't ever do something that could hurt you."

"Okay," you said again, trying not to read to deep into his comment.

"What you'd think of everyone?" He asked.

"They're nice," you offered. "Different from friends back home."

"Oh, well I hope you'd keep hanging out with me...with us" he paused, quickly correcting himself.

You glanced at Rafe out of the corner of your eye, "Yeah, okay. That sounds good."

"Cool." Rafe said.

His hand on the gear shift twitched, moving the slightest inch closer toward you. You swore you could feel him wanting to grab your hand, to interlaced his fingers with yours but he didn't. His hand stayed in place, his eyes on the road watching as the headlights of the car on the opposite side of the two- lane road grew closer and closer.

Your eyes grew suddenly big with panic and Rafe looked at you with fear written all over his face as you both realized the car was plowing down the wrong side of the street. It was on your side of the road and it was going to hit you.

Rafe frantically spun the wheel trying to avoid the oncoming car but there wasn't enough time.

Your body flew forward on impact before the resistance of the seatbelt caused you to snap back. You felt Rafe’s hand hold onto yours as your eyelids closed and the world faded to black.

#where it leads #where it leads series #obx netflix #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks series #outer banks fic #obx fic

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revasserium · 4 years

Note

bewildered madness with keiji

send me a number and a character, and i’ll write you a drabblerequests are currently: closed

155. bewildered madness akaashi ; 1,921 words

a/n: in which akaashi is prince hans, and you are the snow queen ( aka the disneyxhaikyuu that no one asked for ) ; also my submission for hqcreation’s monthly prompt sweater weather

he only catches a glimpse of you, through the cover of trees, the forest frozen around you by the unnatural permafrost -- the moonlight above shattering the quiet darkness below, splintering into glimmering shards of light, refracting off the snow-covered earth.

he sighs.

but there are things he must do, for the sake of his future — for the kingdom that is yet to be his.

he hears you before he sees you, the melody haunting as his childhood dreams, crushed beneath the feet of those with the simple advantage of an earlier birth; he’d always thought that custom ludicrous and dated. he was ever bit the man (and more) than his older brothers — why shouldn’t he have a chance at the crown?

he shivers, and sighs, and pulls his thick cloak ever tighter around his shoulders and thinks that no matter how beautiful your voice might sound, you’re still the key to a kingdom that might one day be his. and for that, he’s willing to do anything.

“i don’t want to hurt you.”

the first words he says to you.

“i’m not who should be worried about getting hurt.”

your first words to him.

“fair, fair —” he laughs, an unexpected sound, a strange, warm thing that blossoms from him.

and for a second, you almost believe he’s sincere.

“what i mean is, i mean you no harm, physically or otherwise — i simply with to…”

you raise an eyebrow, drawing yourself up, your dress woven of silver and broken dreams heavy around your shoulders, even if the material feels weightless.

“talk?” you offer.

akaashi grins, sheepishly.

“in a sense.”

you cast him an unaffected sort of glance.

“you wish to ask for my sister’s hand in marriage. i declined. what else is there to talk about?”

he licks his lips, taking a moment to square his shoulders.

“then i should be so daring as to ask for your hand instead.”

a chill runs down your spine.

“what?”

akaashi lowers himself to one knee, bending his head, a hand outstretched.

“you want to marry me.”

he lifts his head to look up at you, and there’s something so broken, so strange yet familiar in his gaze that you find yourself taking half a step forward, and then a full one.

it takes you a moment to realize that it’s loneliness —

a thing that’s kept you company your whole life, and in doing so, isolating you from everyone else. not by choice, perhaps, but maybe — you swallow and think — maybe be design.

you lick your lips.

“you know, if you’re after the kingdom, this is a terrible way to get to it.”

akaashi remains kneeling.

“i don’t think so.”

you scoff.

“by fleeing arendelle, i am forfeiting my right to the throne — my sister will be queen, and —”

“but you are the queen by birthright, arenelle runs in your blood — she will always be yours, so long as you have the courage to take it.”

“and if i don’t… have that courage, i mean.”

akaashi smiles, a sweet, soft, gentle thing, as he lifts himself up from his knees and takes a step towards you.

and perhaps there’s still an entire ocean of loss and hurt between the pair of you, but for a moment, just a moment, you allow yourself to fall into the possibility — the thought of marrying, of being queen, of living a normal life.

maybe, maybe, you’d even be happy.

“then i shall wait with you here until you do.”

it’s such a strange sentiment, to be offered company in loneliness. and you’ve been alone for so long, willfully or not, that there’d seemed no other option. and yet here he was, this prince from some faraway southern isle, offering you — not love, but companionship, in a way that isn’t burdened with familial relationship.

“and… if i hurt you?”

he opens his palms, and slowly, ever so slowly, takes off his gloves.

“then i shall let you.”

that night, he tells you about his childhood, of growing up with so many brothers his own parents couldn’t remember if everyone’s eaten. of dreaming of one day having some place to call his own, of scheming of a way to get there.

“you know, you shouldn’t be telling me this. especially if you’re trying to steal my kingdom.”

akaashi slates you a look.

“steal it? no, no — i just want to belong to it.”

(oh.)

“oh.”

you look down at your hands, the instruments through which your powers flow. and a part of you, the deepest, darkest part of you, whispers that you understand.

such a strange thing — the wish for belonging — so simple to say, and so thoughtless to people who have it, but to those who don’t.

“it’s like… moving mountains or shifting seas,” you say.

akaashi’s smile is a dancing shadow on the planes of his face, and for the first time, you take the chance to really look at him, sitting cross-legged on the floor of this ice castle, built from spirit and resignation and years of pent-up loneliness —

and you think that he’s quite handsome like this, all dark hair and bright, intelligent eyes.

“both of which, need i remind you, my queen, you are capable of.”

you bite your lip.

he inches closer.

“and you’ve been capable of it since long before you knew.”

you smile.

“it’s a curse.”

he chuckles.

“it’s a gift.”

you give him a flat-lined look and he shrugs.

“call it what you will, but it’s power. and where i come from, that’s worth something.”

you curl your fingers into your palms and wrap your arms around your knees, bringing them into your chest.

“are you cold?”

you laugh, even as he removes his jacket.

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but cold is kinda my thing,” you say, gesturing at the palace around the pair of you.

akaashi shuffles closer on his knees, and then drapes his thick cloak over your shoulders.

“i know, but… you still seemed… cold to me. there, better?”

he shifts back to admire his handiwork, the thick woolen cloak now fastened tightly over your dress.

you flush, for the first time, feeling heat creep up your cheeks as he sits back down across from you, closer than before.

and then, a moment later.

“you really think i could do it?”

“do what?”

“be the queen… learn to control — ” you wave a hand around the cavernous hall of the ice palace, “all this.”

akaashi smiles.

“yes. i know you can.”

you peer at him.

“how do you know?”

“because i’ve seen greed up close — i’ve felt it in my heart, and for the longest time, i thought that was what drove me. but then… seeing you, witnessing your power for the first time — it was… humbling. and, i guess i just never thought i could feel that kind of awe, that kind of…” he blushes, the color tinting his already pale cheeks the color of a winter sunrise.

“... wonder.”

you feel yourself warming, from somewhere deep in the depths of your belly. like all those mornings when papa would make hot cocoa and momma would tell you and your sister stories of the creatures that lived in the woods — friendly creatures, some, and others, not so friendly.

“but momma, why are some creatures not friendly?” you’d asked, once upon a winter’s morn.

and she’s laughed and booped your nose and tugged a spoon handle out of your sister’s mouth with the patience only a mother could muster.

“because, my darling girl, sometimes what’s good for you, isn’t always good for others. and so those creatures, the not so friendly ones, might not mean you any harm — it’s just that what’s good for them, be the exact opposite of what’s good for you.”

you’d frowned, leaning into the warmth of your mother’s embrace as she rocked you over her lap.

“what do you do then?”

momma had let out a small sigh, and brushed a strand of hair from your eyes.

“you try to understand them… and, you try to forgive.”

akaashi reaches out to sweep a strand of hair from your cheek and you almost flinch back, but something inside you holds you to the spot.

here are two creatures, you think, towards whom the rest of the world is unfriendly.

not because it wants to hurt you, but simply because…

“... what’s good for the world, isn’t necessarily good… for us…”

“hm?” akaashi’s head lilts to one side, and for a second, you can see the boy in him, the boy that had been forced to grow up faster than his age because of his brothers, his father — everyone who’d ever told him no. you see the boy that had just wanted a place to belong to, to call his own.

you offer him a smile, one that’s true and honest and just a little broken.

“nothing… just remembering an old story my mom used to tell me and my sister.”

“tell me,” he says.

you lick your lips, you think of all the reasons you shouldn’t trust this prince, this prince who makes no effort in concealing his motives in coming to find you, who asked for your hand in marriage simply because he wants to be king — but who also offered you his coat, and is sitting with you in this frozen palace, listening to your stories.

and this is the thing about falling in love — it comes from the unlikeliest of places. its springs from rocks and trees, from the budding leaves of spring, the dazzling blooms of summer, from the afire-trees of autumn, and sometimes — especially — from the frosted mornings of winter.

it’s kind of madness, you decide, some time later, with akaashi’s hand in wrapped around your own, trying to find steadiness in the way your heart is hammering inside your chest — love is. it’s a madness from which some people never recover, but what beautiful madness it is, to be in love — to love and be loved back, and to know it.

“do you love me?” you’d asked, one of those many frigid nights the pair of you had spent in that castle hidden in the mountains, dancing and singing, and sharing stories.

akaashi had smiled, pressed his forehead to yours and said, “no, but i think i’m learning to.”

and you’d laughed and said, “me too.”

because if he’d said yes, you’d have known he was lying, and you prefer it this way anyways.

honesty, always. between the pair of you.

“why me?” you’d asked another night.

and he’d said, without a single thread of doubt in his voice, “because you.”

and that, you’d decided was all there is to that.

now however, standing at the precipice of what you knew would be the rest of your life, looking down over the kingdom that has always been yours, you feel a coldness spreading through you.

you shiver, and akaashi reaches out to wrap his arms around your shoulders.

“cold?” he asks.

you grin, “a bit.”

he reaches out to tighten the cloak around your shoulders — his cloak.

“there, better?”

you laugh, nodding.

“sure is.”

you take a deep breath; he takes your hand.

“do you love me?” you ask.

akaashi nods, “yes.”

he squeezes your hand, and you feel the warmth in your stomach blossom into something so very much like spring.

“let’s go home,” you say.

akaashi smiles, and it’s a beautiful thing.

“yeah, let’s go… home.”

---

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#keijish #haikyuucreations 0820 #haikyuu scenarios #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #akaashi scenarios #akaashi headcanons #akaashi keiji scenarios #akaashi keiji imagines #akaashi keiji headcanons #hq headcanons #hq scenarios #hq imagines #akaashi #floofy floof floof #angst mcgee #but its not even really angsty??? i feel like?????#okay but i could go on about how they did a good 'villain' dirty in frozen and also like keep in mind that akaashi in this fic doesn't have #hans's personality #only his circumstances #so i think that this is how akaashi as a person would be given that he was raised in those circumstances #hence the purposeful deviation from prince hans's character in terms of how terrible he is #but also i think that if it werent a disney movie there could've been lots of room for like digging into traumatic childhoods #which both elsa and hans had and that would give them a common talking point #anyway im too tired to do a full analysis of why i think helsa might work in some contexts so that will be for another day u__u <3 #its good to be back tho #i've missed this hehe

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shuatoyou · 4 years

Note

hello!! can i request a fake dating f2l au with joshua w a bit of jealous joshua and mainly fluff with a teeny bit of angst thanku!

here’s the long awaited request anon! thank you for this i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing.

fluff with some angst i think?

joshua x reader

wc; 1,896

“y/n are you bringing a date to the wedding?” your mom curiously asks while you observe the dress you had on in the mirror in front of you. the question makes you turn around to face her.

“um no?” you hesitate and your response makes her look up at you.

“bring your boyfriend sweetheart.” she smiles diverting her attention to the dress you had on. “that joshua kid, he’s your boyfriend right?”

“yeah! o-of course” you stammer on your words hoping your mom would take no notice and turn around on your heals swiftly facing the mirror watching your reflection panic.

you and joshua were not dating in fact you doubted he would have any feelings for you whatsoever seeing as you were best friends, however he was a regular plus one to the family events because of them constantly getting on your case about dating and it would be embarrassing for them if their only daughter kept attending these events alone after all they boasted about your social life. so joshua continuously offered to attend alongside you and pretend to be your lover which was a role he played successfully to your luck.

you walked out of the dress store shortly parting ways with your mother to go back to your home with the new dress for the upcoming occasion.

you walk in to your humble abode dropping all your bags down beside the sofa and letting yourself fall onto the soft seat. truthfully you dreaded asking joshua to go to this wedding with you as your date mainly due to the fact you had some unrequited feelings you’d recently develo=ped towards the other but you knew it would be even more awkward asking someone else from your friendship circle so he was the only answer at the end of the day.

picking up your phone you dial joshua’s number startling once you hear his soft voice come through.

“hey y/n whats up?” joshua asks cheerfully making you close your eyes tightly at the tone of voice that always gave you butterflies.

“nothing much, i was just wondering if you were free this weekend?” you ask him as confidently as you can.

“are you asking me on a date?” at this point you knew he was smirking as he asked that.

“no but i do need someone to go with me to my cousins wedding this saturday. you’re being weird though maybe i’ll ask jeonghan instead” you somewhat tease knowing the boy will object.

“you better not, of course i will be there as your date” he emphasises on the date and you can feel a blush creeping up to your cheeks

“yes you will. my dress is light blue” you state nonchalantly notifying the boy.

“bet you’ll look great, i’ll find a tie to match.”

his sudden compliment catches you completely off guard and its evident as you barely manage to let out a small ‘okay’ a few seconds late causing joshua to chuckle over on his end knowing he had this effect on you.

“bye y/n” he exclaimed before abruptly hanging up.

you groan into a pillow frustrated wondering how you would get through the weekend, the answer should be like all the other times but you felt nervous nevertheless.

joshua eyed you intently watching you walk over to him with your dress flowing all princess like around you and every little detail such as the colour and the fitting of the stunning material complementing all your features.

“hi” you both breathed out at the same time making eachother giggle in unison.

“you look amazing” joshua smiles opening the door to his car on the passenger side, a gentlemanly courtesy from the one and only gentleman. you blush getting into the car ready to return a compliment to him as he gets in to the driver seat to drive you both to the venue, however nothing leaves your mouth. perhaps it was the nerves.

the drive is filled with joshua talking about his week with you commenting here and there whilst trying to avoid glancing over at him, nodding your head to the music playing quietly from the radio.

thankfully the journey wasn’t longer than twenty minute, at the hall you step out of the car only to be greeted with joshua offering you his arm which you shyly accepted either way as you walked in and began greeting your family with joshua beside you attracting stares left and right.

“y/n sweetheart!” your mother rushes up to you giving you a hug which made you untwine your arm from joshua’s to return it.

“i see you brought your handsome boyfriend” she winks causing joshua to widen his eyes and laugh at the suddenness of her compliment. you glanced up to him to see his cheeks flushed which you found endearing to say the least.

“you guys are sitting over there” she points over to a table a few steps away. “whenever you’re ready come join us” the last words are spoken and soon enough your mother is gone to deal with other business.

joshua turns to you, instinctively you turn around to face him.

“should we go sit down now?” he speaks out watching your gaze soften as you listened to him speak.

you nod so he reaches to hold your hand and leads the way to the table, the sudden action shocked you so you stopped at a halt making joshua stop with you.

“is something wrong?” he asks eyes showing worry.

“no... just- you’ve never done that before” you mutter looking down at your intertwined hands.

“sure i have, but i’m especially your date for tonight so i think i have the privilege to hold your hand even more.” he winks before continuing the way to the table and even pulling out your chair for you to sit making the adults at the table coo at his gentlemanliness.

the entire night joshua spent talking to you, making you laugh here and there at the little jokes he would throw in, hearts doing backflips unknown to one and other but you couldn’t help enjoy the company.

he left momentarily for the bathroom leaving you alone until another figure approached you tapping your shoulder to gain your attention you respond by turning around to see your childhood friend who you immediately stood up to greet the individual.

“seungcheol? it’s been a while!” you exclaim, eyes widening trying to adjust to the new appearance of your long time friend before pulling him into a hug.

“yeah we’ve both changed a bit clearly.” he chuckles looking down at his own suit once pulled away.

“sit, im sure my parents would love to see you again!” you speak out pointing towards the nearest chair as you sit down on your own.

joshua returned to see you in deep conversation with the boy unknown to him the pang of jealousy hit hard causing him to frown at the male at the center of your attention making you laugh like he was earlier. silently he approached taking a seat in the next vacant chair as his previous one was now occupied by the stranger.

it wasn’t long before you to noticed joshua’s presence and you wasted no time introducing the two to each other.

“joshua this is seungcheol, we grew up together and seungcheol this is my date joshua” you introduce the two boys to each other both of them passing on friendly smiles before turning their attention back to you.

“oh are you guys dating?” seungcheol asks genuinely curious.

you stutter unable to answer the sudden question however joshua speaks up anyways. “yeah we are” he reaches to hold your hand repeating the action that turned you into a flustered mess but you nod anyways going along with him.

“im happy for you y/n! i hope you both last a long time”

seungcheol’s words had more of an effect on you two than expected and it was the same for joshua who you felt squeeze your hand gently.

“anyways, i’m going now but i’ll see you around?” seungcheol gives you both a little wave and you nod in return before watching him walk off. you turn around to joshua straight away only for the boy to let go of your hand and more immersed in a glass of wine.

“you’re gone red” you poke at his cheek snickering ever so slightly making joshua put down his treasured glass to look at you with a blank expression before turning away again. you huff getting up hoping for a slight change of expression from the boy but to your dismay - nothing.

a slow tune started playing and you glanced around to see guests getting up to join the slow dance at the centre of the hall. you sit back down only for joshua to get up this time and hold out his hand to you. puzzled, you give him a questioning look.

“dance with me” he mumbles and you dont waste anymore time giving into dancing with him despite your heart racing like crazy.

to be honest you could barely concentrate on dancing with joshuas hands resting on your waist with yours around his neck. his touch felt like fire and you couldn’t help but feel warm inside despite your nerves now skyrocketing.

“you haven’t given me much attention tonight” joshua spoke with a low tone down into your ear as you both swayed to the gentle music.

“w-what do you mean” you pull back slightly to see his face better but regret it almost immediately realising how close in proximity your faces were.

“i thought it was obvious.” he chuckled and you could feel your heart racing at a dangerous number of miles per minute. sure you were a little bit oblivious but you were scared of misunderstanding his words so you stayed silent not breaking eye contact waiting for him to continue which he did.

“i like you y/n” he muttered once again into your ear, you felt his breath fan your neck sending shivers down your spine and your cheeks burning. the fact that your feelings were not so unrequited brought a lot of shock to you but you couldn’t help the smile now taking over your expression out of happiness.

joshua examines your face searching for an kind of indication you were okay with his confession before setting his gaze onto your rosy lips. you dont hesitate before reaching up to connect your lips that went together perfectly.

the both of you pull away first aware of your surroundings and it wasnt long till both of you were betrayed by the visible blush forming.

the song finally came to a halt and joshua led you outside where it was quieter.

“so what do you say? we should date for real now right?” he’s close to you again and hoping you cant hear the pace of his heart.

“not how i expected to be asked out at someone elses wedding but yes dummy we should” you laugh out lifting up your hand to push back his hair messing it up as joshua’s arms find their way around your waist again pulling you closer to him.

“good” he whispers connecting your lips once again both of you smiling into the kiss feeling pure bliss and completely content with the events of the night.

#anon!!#joshua request #enjoy <3 #seventeen #seventeen blog #joshua hong #joshua #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #seventeen request #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #f2l

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sierraraeck · 4 years

Text

How to Make Friends (Pt.2)

Spencer x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Spencer’s had a problem with Aundreya since the start. How is she going to earn his respect? Story four.

Category: Some angst, some fluff.

Warnings: Cussing. Quick mention of normal CM stuff and the quick retelling of two rough childhoods. Mentions of bullying.

Word Count: 3.0k

I slept until noon the next day. That wasn’t typical behavior for me, because I always enjoyed being up around seven in the morning so I could feel like I was doing something more productive than sleeping. However, I didn’t get back to my apartment until around three am and figured that I was going to need more that four hours of sleep if I was going to make it through an entire dinner with Doctor Grumpy.

The government finally trusted me enough to have a work phone after four weeks, especially because a case of ours almost ended in a dead ten year old because I didn’t have a phone to call the team on when I had new information. I’d already gotten myself a personal phone that the government didn’t know about, and neither did Dalton. It’s not like I actually used it for anything, except for personal texts from the team and occasional calls, but as you can imagine those didn’t happen frequently. Aaron turned a blind eye as long as I gave Garcia full monitoring permissions. Not like she actually needed my permission to hack into my phone and get my records or anything. He did make me agree not to have anyone ‘firewall’ it and I made the convincing case that it has a GPS, so as Dalton was slowly removed from his duties, the team would always have a way of tracking me. Plus, he didn’t think it was a terrible idea to have a secondary contact for me in case something happened.

However, today was one of those days that I used it.

It’s Reid. How’s Fabi’s?

He’d sent the text at 5:30 in the morning. Why was he up?

Good. How’s 6?

I quickly replied and put my phone down. I didn’t bother eating because I didn’t care enough. I threw on some workout stuff and went down to the clubhouse gym. I worked out practically every day. When I was younger, I always wanted to play college volleyball. I had just started training when my life went awry, and one of the things that kept me sane, that kept me connected to my humanity, was continuing that training. I did high intensity workouts everyday on the streets. I was then roped in to a mixed martial arts gym that I would visit regularly, which is where I met Sydney for the first time. It’s how I got involved with the Cloaks. Once I was thrown in prison, working out was one of the only things we could do. We had limited reading material, limited social time, limited gym time. But the nice thing about working out is that you don’t necessarily need a gym.

I was about to start my final set of squats when Dalton blasted into the gym.

“Have you been here this whole time!” His face had a slight pink color to it, like he’d been holding his breath for far too long.

“Yes.”

“Jesus Christ! Did you forget that today was a check in day?”

Yes. “No. I just thought that I’d be finished by two and was counting on you being late.”

“When have I ever been late?” he asked me, dumbfounded. It was a valid question considering it only happened once and it was only by about five minutes. I didn’t call him on it then, but I figured I would now.

“Uh, let’s see. How about that one time that you were late to the airport picking me up because you were having a good time with your lady friend.” I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

He sighed. “Dammit. When you didn’t say anything I thought that you were too tired to notice and hopefully too tired to remember. I should have known better.”

“Yes you should have.”

“Wait, how’d you know I was with someone? I’ve never even told you anything about me.” He didn’t sound irritated, which I figured he might be, but all I heard was curiosity.

“Come on. I’m working as a profiler for the BAU and before that my life depended on my ability to pick up on the slightest details,” I reminded him. He nodded. Then just for fun, I added, “Plus, I’m also a really good spy and private investigator.”

“What’re you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Have you been watching me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” I always found a bit of extra pleasure from messing with my trusty watch-dog. “Have you actually been following me?”

“Definitely not. That would be weird and completely inappropriate,” I said with a wink. I walked past him, deciding to cut myself one set short.

“Seriously?”

“Bye, Dalton,” I said in a sultry tone, halfway out the door.

“Don’t forget, I’ll be back Sunday!” he called after me.

“I’m counting on it. Tell Renee hi for me!” I said, letting the door slowly close behind me.

“Aundreya!” I turned and waved to him through the glass doors, a big grin spreading across my face.

When I returned to my apartment, I checked my phone for a response from Reid.

Good.

That was all I got. At least we were keeping it simple.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I got to the restaurant about five minutes early, refusing to be late to my own dinner. I walked in and looked around to see if Spencer was there yet. He wasn’t. I thought about waiting for him, but instead I just got us a table. I slicked my dress down under my legs as I sat. I’d picked out a cute, black, pencil dress with an arrowhead necklace and combat boots. Someone kill me if I ever voluntarily wear heels for longer than a few minutes. I had never gotten my ears pierced, so I didn’t have any other jewelry. I also didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard.

He came in wearing a dress shirt and a tie, but no jacket. He looked nice. He spotted me quickly and came to sit down.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hi.” We sat there in awkward silence while the waitress came and put water glasses down in front of us. We both immediately took a sip.

He decided to break the silence first. “I just want to apologize for-”

“Don’t even worry about it,” I cut him off. I had a good idea as to where that sentence was going and it was unnecessary.

“No, I am going to worry about it. I want to apologize for how I’ve treated you. I immediately judged you for your label without actually getting to know you. That was wrong of me and I’m hoping we can start over.” His voice was steady and his eyes were calm. I gave him a small smile and a nod.

“I can definitely work with that. What do you want to know first?”

“You just want me to ask you questions?”

“Yeah. I’ve found that that works the best. I want to start where you’re the most interested.”

“Um, okay,” he swallowed. “You said you ended up on the streets when you were fourteen?”

“Yep.”

“So tell me what happened before that.” I smiled at him. It was a great starting point.

“Okay. I grew up with divorced parents. They got divorced when I was six. My father was abusive, mostly verbally-”

“Mostly?” he asked.

“Yeah. Mostly,” I replied. I wasn’t ready yet to talk about what happened on the other end of the ‘mostly’. He saw it too. “I stopped living with him when I was nine or ten. My sister decided to stay in contact with him over the phone and occasionally in person after that, but I completely cut him out. I haven’t seen or talked to him since, except for the times that he showed up at my school or sporting events unannounced and unwanted.”

Spencer was shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate that. From ten to fourteen, I lived happily. I was solely with my mom and I was going to school, planning my future. At the start of the year, I walked into the right place at the wrong time. I witnessed one of the biggest serial slaughters ever committed, by one of the FBI’s most wanted.”

“The Storefront Slaughterer,” Reid said.

I nodded. “I don’t know how, but he didn’t realize he left a survivor. Somehow my face got leaked to the press so my family and I had to go into witness protection. Long story short, by the end of that year, he’d found us before the FBI found him. He burned our house down and I was the only one who got out.”

“So then you decided to live on the streets?” his voice was soft, not a hint of judgement like I’d imagined in my head before having this conversation.

“Yeah. My options were to go back and live with my father or fend for myself on the streets. I was willing to take my chances and I wanted to help catch the man that took everything from me.”

“That was very brave of you.”

“Thanks.”

“Didn’t the FBI catch him the following year with the help of an-”

“Anonymous tipper? Yeah, they did.”

“That was you?” his eyes got bigger as realization set in.

“Sure was. I’d spend my first year on the streets making connections and setting a trap for the Storefront Slaughterer. Everyday I got up and I did more digging. That’s how I got good at private investigating and spying. Once the final pieces of my plan came together, I tipped off the FBI and they were able to catch him.”

“Once they caught him, didn’t that mean you could get off the streets and go back to normal?”

I smiled at how intrigued he seemed to be. “Not really. Nothing was normal for me anymore. I’d spent a year in witness protection and another on the streets trying to catch this guy. Plus, I still would have had to go back and live with my father, and at that point, I had just gotten comfortable out on the streets. People babied me at first because of my age. I realized that, but I also realized I looked older than I was, so I started lying to people about my age and I earned massive respect for my talents and catching the Slaughterer. I made the decision that things might end up better for me on the streets then going back to how things were. The streets became my new normal.”

“Wow, that’s…” he trailed off.

“Crazy?” I offered.

“No. Well, kind of. But I was going to say incredible. I mean, you were already one of the smartest and most skilled informants on the streets at the age of fourteen.”

I laughed. “Well I hear you weren't doing too bad yourself at age fourteen.”

“That’s true,” he smiled, “but I wasn’t having to learn street survival skills.”

“No, you were doing something much harder.” There was that sweet sound of laughter again. He told me all about his childhood, which honestly seemed non-existent, and I realized how much we actually had in common. His dad left him when he was young, his mother has schizophrenia, he practically raised himself, was constantly bullied, and despite all that he was still able to be successful. It amazed me and I told him that.

“Thank you. That means a lot,” he said, humbly. I could tell he didn’t fully believe the words himself, which made me sad.

“You know I mean that, right?”

“Yes.”

“So why don’t you believe it?”

He looked up at me. “No one’s asked me that before.”

“If you don’t want to answer me that’s fine. I’m just wondering because despite being one of the coolest people I’ve met, and I’ve met a lot of people, you still don’t seem to resonate with my praises.”

He let out a huge sigh. “My dad had told me many times that I was smart and important and deserving of a good life. But he then turned around and told me that I was too hard to care for and he left. Ever since then, it’s hard for me to believe anyone when they compliment me because I never know if they mean it. On top of that, being constantly bullied didn’t help my self-confidence,” he met my eyes, his own glistening. It hurt me to think that someone who overcame so much and is probably one of the smartest people on the planet didn’t think he was all that. I had already respected him, but that feeling continued to grow the more I got to know him.

“Let me tell you something. If you get nothing else out of this dinner, get this. You and I were in very similar situations when we were younger. You were strong enough to overcome all of the obstacles put in your way and came out the other side as a caring genius who saves lives. Someone else in your situation, someone like myself, wasn’t as mentally strong as you and chose the wrong path. Sure, I’m here now, but you stayed the course and made it here yourself. No one had to come and save you, you saved yourself. And I’d say that’s something to be pretty damn proud of.” I was dead serious and I needed him to know that. An unfamiliar feeling surged through me that I wasn’t able to immediately put my finger on.

Admiration. I admired him. He was who I wanted to be before my life got flipped upside down and I was forced to change my ideals.

I barely heard him when he whispered, “Thank you.”

I nodded and our waitress came over to place the bill on the table. Spencer started to reach for it before I quickly put my hand down on it, sliding it my way. “Nuh, uh. I’m taking you to dinner, remember?”

“But you’ve paid for everyone else-”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a wink.

“Oh you two make such a nice couple,” the waitress said. She was a woman in her late fifties and appeared to be swooning over what she thought was young love.

I gave a single nervous laugh, slipping my dollar bills in the fold, before replying, “No, ma’am, we’re not a couple.”

“Sure you’re not. Just keep telling yourselves that,” she said, taking the bill and cash from me, strutting away. Spencer and I made confused eye contact and we both started laughing.

“That was bold,” he said.

“You’re telling me. I think we should inform her that we’re the profilers here,” I said, and we both laughed again.

“Hey, I have one more question for you,” he said, attitude quickly shifting back to serious.

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you step in the other day?”

I was confused for a moment before remembering what he was most likely referencing. “Oh you mean with Kristy? It wasn’t a big deal, she seemed like a bitch anyways.”

“Anyway,” he corrected with a smirk.

“Okay. Fine. You got me on that one, Doctor Genius,” I said, playfully rolling my eyes.

“But seriously, why did you? And how could you tell before everyone else that I was uncomfortable?”

“I guess I’ve been able to pick up on a tell that no one else has learned to pay attention to. And I stepped in because I saw you were uncomfortable and figured you had enough of that going on with me around,” I replied. I made a small joke out of it, hoping he wouldn’t press me farther, because I honestly didn’t know why I stepped in. Sure, I was curious as to who she was, why she was making him uneasy, and it was a means of extending an olive branch, but there was something else. I respected him, and I wanted him to respect me (I don’t know why it actually mattered that much to me) but I didn’t think that was it either. Plus, I would have done that for any of the team members.

Probably.

I sighed, not willing to dig further into my psyche, at least not today and definitely not now.

The waitress returned with my change, giving Spencer and I a longing look. I smiled to myself, wondering what happened to this poor woman that she felt the desire to watch us exit the restaurant together. We walked toward the parking lot in silence.

“Thank you again,” Reid said to me. There was an undertone that implied he was thanking me for more than just the food.

I gave him a half smile. “Of course. Thank you for agreeing to go out with me.”

He nodded, but before he turned away, I caught him with one last question.

“Just out of curiosity, how much of that did you already know?”

He looked at me, confusion apparent on his face. “None of it.”

“Really? The team didn’t tell you anything?” It was my turn to be confused.

“Well they tried, but it didn’t feel right. I figured whatever it was, you’d tell me on your own terms. I wouldn’t have wanted them sharing things with you that I wasn’t ready to have you know about me yet. I owed you the same courtesy.” With that, he turned around and continued on to his car. I was bewildered by his gentlemanly manners, especially since they held up in a situation regarding a criminal he loathed. Or at least he used to loathe.

That thought made me smile.

“Goodnight, Spencer,” I called over as he was getting into his vehicle.

“Goodnight, Aundreya.”

I returned home, able to fall asleep feeling better about my life than I had in awhile.

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crowbarstodd · 5 years

Text

Course Of Nature (2)

Chapter Summary: LadyNoir are real best friends, and Marinette and Robin are back at each others throats Rating: G Word Count: 2160 Pairing: Daminette

Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four

You can do it!”

“I really don’t think I can,” Marinette whined, sprawling over Chat’s lap lackadaisically, digging her elbow into his thigh and knocking his arm with hers by accident.

He didn’t seem bothered, simply grabbing the handful of hair she had thrust in his hand and began braiding, making sure to stroke through her blue locks gently.

She pressed her cheek against his leg, enjoying the way his whole body seemed to thrum as he chuckled at her expense. “Yes you can,” he insisted, ever faithful. “You’re Ladybug!”

“Not without this mask I’m not.”

She winced at the resulting flick of his fingers against her exposed ear, pinching at his knee in retaliation.

She smiled a little when he laughed, closing her eyes and basking in the moonlight.

He’d seemed lighter as of late; happier, and she was sure his new patrol partner had something to do with it.

Under all his jokes and smart remarks, Chat was a bundle of affection and insecurities, eager to be unfolded. She hadn’t spent much with Nightwing at all, but she was grateful to him because her Chaton was flourishing under his tutelage. Now if only she could say the same about her partner.

“I can hear you thinking.”

“Don’t eavesdrop then.”

Another ear flick, this time returned with a lazy backhanded swipe toward Chat’s general head area, missing completely.

“I’m serious m’lady, you look... Not happy.”

Marinette shifted so that she was staring straight into Chat’s vibrant, green eyes. “Robin’s such a hard-ass.”

Chat snickered, assumedly at her choice of wording and not at her distress. Hopefully. “I guess he hasn’t been tweeting you right, huh.”

Definitely laughing at her distress then. “He’s so annoying! I’m too loud, too slow, too small, and my costume is too obnoxious apparently!”

Chat’s eyes softened, hands tugging lightly at the end of her new braid in his own brand of comfort. A little reminder of his presence. I’m here. I’m on your side. She heard his unsaid words loud and clear. “You’re not taking him to heart are you?”

The lack of respect hurt her feelings, sure, but she had long since been exposed to bullies of all kinds, and it was frighteningly easy for her to simply let his words enter one ear and exit the other a moment after. “No, Chat.”

“You’d tell me if he upset you seriously though, right?”

“Of course I would,” Marinette admitted. There wasn’t much she could hold back from her partner.

“I know he’s not ideal—“

“For real.”

“But,” Chat continued as if he hadn’t heart Marinette’s remark. “I think he can be better. I mean the way Nightwing talks about him... I think he’s just not the trusting type.”

“I’m not sure how much I can handle, Chat,” Marinette admitted. It was hard for her to say out loud that she needed help as Ladybug. Marinette was a mess, but Ladybug had the world on her shoulders, and still kept them straight. Or at least, she was supposed to.

“Don’t lose yourself to him,” Chat warned, “I know you, Bug, and I know that no matter how much you struggle you won’t quit. But this isn’t something you can keep pushing through. If Robin keeps pushing you, we’ll just have to switch patrol buddies.”

Marinette almost sat up in shock. Chat admired Nightwing above anything, she would rather eat her shoe than make Chat lose such a valuable supporter. “No way!” She protested, heated.

Chat pushed her back down with a finger on her temple. “Relax, Bugaboo, it’s just a precaution. Besides, we’re a team, okay? There’s not a lot I wouldn’t do to help my partner.”

Marinette could’ve cried right then, heart truly warmed by her partner’s words... But Chat always had something to say.

Shoving her off his lap, he climbed onto hers, yanking her hand and dropping it on his blonde crown. “It’s my turn now,” he said with a cat-like grin. “Last night Nightwing taught me how to do an elbow-strike!”

Marinette snorted, petting Chat’s hair softly as he spoke, letting each word wash over her like a fuzzy blanket, providing comfort.

--—--—--—--—--—--—--

“You’re late.”

“Actually, I’m Robin.”

Marinette huffed out a frustrated grunt, blowing stray strands of blue hair away from her face. “Last week you lectured me about the importance of time management.”

“Yes, and I’m pleased to know you remembered.”

“Robin.”

“You need to work on your interrogation voice. It’s hardly convincing.”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed, patience growing incredibly thin. “Robin.”

Mrrow

A silence settled between the two of them. Robin had his typical spicy poker face, though Marinette could easily spot lines of tension on his face.

She heard a meow, she was sure of it, but there was no way...

Mew.

Oh my god.

“Robin are you hiding a cat?” Marinette couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice. It was just so difficult to believe that the stone-hearted demon would actually do something like that.

Reluctantly, Robin lifted the side of his closed, black cowl. There was a flash of yellow, indicating a different material used for the inside of the cloak, and Marinette forced herself the push away the urge to ask. Instead, she watched as the inky black made way to display a slightly damp, light brown cat.

Marinette melted at the sight. “A kitten!” She squealed.

“Don’t be foolish,” Robin snapped, “he’s fully grown.”

“All cats are kittens, Rob,” Marinette informed him flippantly, holding the lovely thing gently in her arms. “You’re a baby aren’t you?” She cooed, absolutely delighted when it blinked up at her with large, brown eyes and yawned.

Robin frowned, but let her, sinking back into the shadows where he was more comfortable.

“I used to have a pet cat,” she told him, unsure why she was suddenly sharing a piece of herself with someone she hardly knew and hardly liked. “When I was six it got run over. I wanted to bury him, but my family didn’t have a backyard, so we had to let him go. I didn’t stop crying for weeks.”

Robin’s admission came after an extended silence, and was completely unexpected. “My grandfather ordered me to kill a kitten once. It was a white angora, barely three weeks old.”

Marinette felt bile climb her throat at the confession, suddenly lightheaded. What kind of monster would force a child to do something like that? What kind of childhood had Robin endured?

Any further contemplation escaped her mind when Marinette felt his arms wrap around her. His moves were stiff and rushed as if he hadn’t wanted to do them in the first place, and she’d been so stunned she hadn’t even

“Huh?”

Robin cleared his throat, awkwardly adjusting his mask. “Nightwing told me it was customary to exchange physical affirmations in the form of hugs when people exchanged secrets. Is that not the same in Paris?”

Bubbles of laughter floated from her tummy and spilled out between her lips like a waterfall. “Yes,” she decides to say, still giggling between words. “It’s the same in Paris, Nightwing was right.”

Robin tutted and crossed his arms, but under the faint glow of early morning sun, assisted by throbbing night-life lights, Marinette could see him glow just a smidge.

Their small respite (dare she say, bonding moment), was interrupted by a muffled shriek, only a few meters away.

They jumped into action instantly. Robin grabbed the cat from Marinette’s grip, tucking it somewhere inside his coat, leaping off the building, and into the street shortly after her.

“Stop!” Marinette ordered, standing before a masked robber, holding a kitchen knife before his young victims. The kids looked to be barely in their pre-teens, scrawny and small; naturally easy targets. The robber was built like someone who had once been extraordinarily athletic, but in recent years, had only worked out sparingly. Still, he was much larger than her, and from his growls, she could tell he was also much angrier.

The robber didn’t have much choice other than to stop when a black blur landed on his shoulders, yanking his entire body backward and onto the ground. The children shrieked, and Ladybug acted instinctively, leaving Robin with the perpetrator, grabbing a child in each arm, and swinging away from the sight.

They were young boys, and upon closer examination, she recognised one to be her classmate, Alix Kubdel’s younger cousin, Oliver. At least she knew where to drop them off, seeing as they were shaking too much to respond to her properly, and the other young boy was on the verge of tears.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, keeping her voice soft and soothing. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen to you while I’m patrolling okay? I’m gonna drop you both off at Oliver’s house, is that alright?”

Oliver squeaked, hiding his face behind his hands. “You know me?”

“Sure do, Ollie-boy, I saved you from some loose zoo-animals once didn’t I?”

His friend looked up at her with awed eyes, no longer trembling. “Woah,” he whispered.

Marinette wasn’t heartless enough to drop them off at the doorstep, instead waiting by them until Oliver’s mom’s answered the door, and wrapped both boys up in large hugs, promising to call Matthew’s parents for her. She made a mental note to try and remember Matthew’s name, just as she did with each citizen she met as Ladybug.

When she returned to the crime scene, Robin was standing above the robber’s unmasked body, tying his arms behind his back.

Robin didn’t look at her, though she knew he heard her land beside him. “I’ve called the cops,” she informed him.

“Tt.” Great, he was pissy again.

“What is it?”

Robin made a sound from the back of his throat that sounded like a mix between a grunt and growl. “You put yourself in unnecessary danger. You should never jump right in front of the attacker, and to jump into danger and just stop? You hadn’t even disarmed him. What if he had other weapons? Or he threw his knife?”

“He wasn’t going to,” Marinette replied, brows raising at the bitter edge to Robin’s voice. “He was holding a kitchen knife, this was probably his first gig. I was safe.”

Robin turned to face her fully, mouth set in a deep frown, shoulders raised in clear anger. “Safe? How could you know that? There’s no guarantee of safety in our line of work, you must be naive to even think so.”

Marinette took a step closer, blood beginning to boil. “Thank you for your concern, Robin, but I think I’m qualified enough to assess a situation. I wasn’t in any danger.”

Robin strode forward, poking Marinette hard on the chest as he spoke. “You are blind to the privilege your miraculous grants. Wake up and realise that there are cities, countries, continents that are outside the reach of your little fix-it spell. You don’t understand danger because with your magic, you’ve never truly felt it.”

His words felt like a slap in the face. How could he say she didn’t understand danger when at least four times a week she had to combat a psychological terrorist and his creations? Because he had no powers he understood more than her? No, that wasn’t right and she knew it.

“I don’t think you get to decide what I know about danger for me!” She shoved him back and hissed under her breath when he barely moved. Her heart was beginning to beat erratically, pumping righteous fury in the place of blood with every second that passed.

“If you understood then you wouldn’t have left in the middle of an arrest!”

“It’s not an arrest if you’re not an officer, idiot! Besides, civilians are the priority and you were scaring them!” Their foreheads grazed with how close they were standing, practically screaming at each other’s faces. She had half a mind to lose control and deck him where he stood, but her ever-present concern of being akumatised reminded her of potential consequences if she completely submitted to her feelings.

“Excuse me?”

Marinette leaped away from Robin, suddenly realising the lack of distance between them. Officer Roger Raincomprix stood at the end of the alley, a silver pair of handcuffs clutched in his grip, as he scanned the two of them with quizzical eyes. “I’m here to make an arrest,” he explained.

Robin nodded, pointing at the man on the ground with his chin. “Take him.” And with those final words, he edged back into the shadows and disappeared from Marinette’s view, probably to sulk.

It was two steps forward one step back with him. Not even an hour ago she was beginning to enjoy his presence, but now she was back to ripping hair from her head out of frustration.

She aimed a scowl at the direction he ran off in, feeling confused and angry all at once.

End Notes: :DDD lol so this ending is less than ideal but dont kill me pls. They have to learn how to understand each other first and it’s gonna be slow process, especially when both Damian and Marinette are so hard headed, and they have such different views on Heroship. Writing best friend Chat was so fun though so I really hope y’all like him and how I portrayed LadyNoir’s friendship.

I’m so excited for the next update when we’ll finally be Marinette outside of her costume ahhhhhh.

Tag List: @just-rant-and-write-fic-idea @kceedraws @mystery-5-5 @2sunchild2 @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @treebrosha @mooshoon @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @aarushi-03 @ladylb @crazylittlemunchkin

Feel free to leave me a message or ask if you want to be tagged/untagged <3

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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

Text

More Time - Chpt.4

Summary: The holiday season comes for the guys as they continue to adapt to their lives together. Steve discovers a (not so little) problem. Master list is HERE.

Warnings/ Content: There are some slight body image issues mentioned but I don’t feel it’s disordered or too upsetting. Still, you know yourself best and if any body image discussions upset you, you can easily skip down to after the first set of xxXxx ‘s.

Word Count: 1.4k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! So this chapter has two of my absolute favorite head cannons for tiny!Steve and post Winter Solider Bucky. I’ll just let ya’ll wonder what they are... Anyhoo, enjoy more of our boys settling in to their lives together! XOXO - Ash

Chapter Four

“Buck…” Steve called from the bedroom, “I think we have a problem.”

Bucky dropped the mug he was washing in the sink and raced to the bedroom afraid of what health issue Steve could be having. He had just taken his blood pressure meds after breakfast and he wasn’t due to use his inhaler again until the afternoon. He tried to remember if Steve had taken his arthritis medication yet. “What’s wrong?” He asked frantically from the doorway.

“Oh, no.” Steve said quickly realizing he’d scared Bucky, “No, I’m fine. Shit, sorry. I was being dramatic. I… um… I just can’t get my pants to button.” Steve blushed hard at the admission.

“Jesus God.” Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. “You scared me to death. I thought something was really wrong”

“Well, if I can’t get my pants on right we can’t go to Sam’s for dinner so that is technically a problem.” Steve shrugged and motioned at the waist of his khakis where the two tabs of fabric were nowhere close to joining.

Bucky laughed and ran a hand through his hair, “It’s a damn medical marvel is what it is. I think this is the first time I’ve seen you outgrow a pair of pants since you were eleven.”

“Ha, ha.” Steve’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, “You’re the one that let me get fat.”

“What?!” Bucky sputtered in protest, “This is not on me, Rogers. This is just what happens when you finally have access to good medical care and decent food.”

“Says the one who’s always going on about ‘let’s try the new Indian place that opened’ and ‘oh my god you have to get one of these cheeseburgers, Steve’. You still go running and spar with Sam while I’m just here sitting on my ass. Maybe I need to start running again. But not around Sam, I don’t think I could handle his gloating.”

Bucky cracked up but quickly stopped at the glowering look Steve gave him. “I’m sorry.” He said, barely containing himself, “But which do you think will flare up first when you start running: your asthma, your arthritis, or your arrhythmia?” And with that Bucky dissolved back into laughter as Steve ran over and tried to tackle him. Bucky scooped up Steve easily and tossed him onto the mountain of blankets on their bed.

Small or not, Steve still remembered his training and he locked a knee around Bucky’s, destabilizing him enough to bring him down next to Steve where he was able to swing a leg over Bucky’s hips and sit on top of him. Having no qualms with playing dirty, Steve started tickling Bucky mercilessly, knowing every single spot on Bucky’s body to have him screaming and laughing beneath him.

Bucky let Steve get a few good tickles in before he flipped them easily using his weight to his advantage. He pinned Steve’s wrists above his head using his metal hand and felt an unmistakable hardness growing against his thigh. Ignoring it for the time being, Bucky used his other hand to pull up the hem of Steve’s blue polo, exposing his soft tummy. “Let’s see this fat.” He teased pressing kisses across Steve’s mostly flat stomach. “Jeez, Rogers, I think you might actually be over a hundred pounds now without even needing rocks in your pockets.”

“Oh shut up, ya jerk.” Steve grumbled, leaning his face to the side, slightly embarrassed as Bucky continued to kiss and nip at his softer middle.

“This is not fat, this is healthy. This is you not looking like you’re on death’s door every time you get a cold. And it’s kinda nice having something soft to hold on to.”

“You’ll have a whole ball of fluff to hold if I keep up like this.”

“And I’ll love my little Stevie fluff ball all the same.” Bucky teased as he slid up Steve’s body to silence him with a kiss. “Seriously though,” he said pulling back, “You look healthy for once. But it’s your body and if it bothers you we can talk to Helen at your next appointment. Maybe start cooking more and ordering take out less.”

Steve looked down at himself thoughtfully. He knew he was being dramatic but it had been a little unsettling when he realized his pants no longer fit. He’d bought them a little under two months ago and they’d been perfect at the time. His stomach which had been concaved was flat and soft with just the smallest pooch at his waistband where the fabric of his boxer briefs pinched slightly. Steve mused it was better than the winter of 1937 when the doctor had told them he was so underweight that his body had started eating itself to keep him alive after months of battling influenza. He was so thin that year that Bucky had spent his whole savings account to turn on the heat and keep Steve’s fingertips from turning blue. “It’s not so bad.” Steve said finally, “But we’re going to start cooking more often. I don’t have a super soldier metabolism to fall back on anymore.”

“Whatever you want to do. Now, let’s get you into some sweatpants and we can stop on the way to Sam’s and replace your khakis.”

Thanksgiving dinner at Sam’s house was a sight to behold. Steve had met some of Sam’s siblings and his parents before but seeing the entire Wilson family gathered in Sam’s small townhouse in DC was a little overwhelming. There were a dozen kids running round in ages ranging from teenagers to toddlers and it felt like someone was hugging Steve at all times. Sam’s mother doted on him endlessly making sure he was comfortable and had something to eat. Sam’s aunties took turns pumping him for information on how he and Bucky were doing and regaling him with stories from Sam’s childhood, happy to provide a lifetime supply of blackmail material. It was easy to get lost in the sea of people and Steve loved every minute of it. Growing up holidays had been just him and his ma or he joined Bucky’s family if she was working. Watching Sam’s seemingly enormous family celebrate together made Steve thankful he was a part of it.

xxXxx

The winter wore on and Steve and Bucky chose to celebrate Christmas quietly together despite invitations from Sam, Pepper, Bruce, and one of Bucky’s friends from the VA hospital. They spent the day in soft, flannel pajamas and exchanged gifts sitting next to the fake tree Bucky had bought last minute when they discovered Steve was allergic to pine trees. The hives had cleared up by Christmas Day but Bucky still felt terribly guilty. Steve loved the art supplies and the annual memberships to the MET and a few other museums around the city Bucky had given him, as well as the other small gifts he’d managed to stuff into Steve’s stocking. Bucky wiggled happily in place when he unwrapped the books on space Steve gave him and hugged the obnoxious fluffy rainbow print robe tightly as soon as he pulled it free from its sparkly silver bag. It was so garish that he couldn't help but love it.

A few weeks after thawing out from Cryo in Wakanda, Bucky had developed a fondness for wearing soft, fuzzy clothing around the house; the more outrageous the better. Anything that helped to remind him he was allowed to feel safe and warm and wasn’t a weapon anymore, he’d said, and it broke Steve’s heart a little to hear it. Steve ensured from that point on that no holiday was complete without adding something new to Bucky’s collection.

As the day wore on they watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” and “A Charlie Brown Christmas”; drinking eggnog and eating snickerdoodles, both from recipes Sam’s mom had given them. It was a quiet, perfect Christmas. Exactly what they both needed after too many years of fighting and struggling.

“I love you, Bucky Barnes.” Steve mumbled against Bucky’s chest as they curled up under their mountain of blankets late that night. He was warm, sleepy, and more than a little buzzed from the eggnog. It was the best Christmas he could remember having since his ma died and he fell asleep feeling truly thankful for the series of events that lead to him having a new lease on life.

Tag list lovelies: @godofplumsandthunder @remilupin22 @supraveng @hiddles-rose

If anyone wants added or removed please lmk!

#more time #stucky #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #steve rogers #preserum steve rogers #post winter soldier bucky barnes #shrinkyclinks #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #post endgame #post avengers endgame #endgame fix it #endgame fixit #stucky x original character #stucky x original female character #stucky x ofc

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girlinthepictureframe · 5 years

Text

The Briefest Kiss Part 9

Alex lay on the couch in his parents' living room, absentmindedly playing with a remnant of wrapping paper left over from the holidays. Christmas had, once again, come and gone. Same old, every year. He'd never been a big fan of it all, the ceremonious acts, the guests, the cards, the gifts, the dishonesty of it all. But this year, Christmas had put him in a particularly bad mood. Rolling his head to the side, he looked at the single gift left lying underneath the slowly decaying tree.

The rectangular box, wrapped in bright red, tied with a golden ribbon and adorned with a gold-dotted card that had none more than two words written on the inside – For Miles – now served as a gaudy reminder that he and the one person he so desperately longed to see were no longer speaking with each other. They hadn't talked in months. And there was so much that Alex wanted to talk with Miles about. Boring stuff. Inane things that he'd seen and heard. Lyrics that had come to him and that he couldn't make sense of. Jokes that he wanted to share. Silly rumors that he wanted to gossip about. Miles loved silly rumors and gossiping!

And, of course, all those feelings that he was experiencing. He wanted to explain to Miles that he'd never meant to walk out of him that night. He wanted to explain to him that he'd simply been unable to remain in the room, waiting, in silence, for him to wake up, not knowing how Miles would react when he inevitably would wake up. He wanted to tell him that his greatest fear that night had been to find Miles staring back at him with regret. Or worse, disgust.

But if he said all that, if he told him all that, using those words, Miles would know that Alex had feelings for Miles that went far beyond the realms of their friendship. If he explained to Miles what had been going on in his head that day, Miles would know that Alex had fallen and most like would forever remain in love with him. And that was an admission he couldn't make, at least not without putting the well-being of his badly damaged heart at risk. How would he deal with Miles' reaction if his reaction wasn't what Alex wanted it to be? And what did Alex want Miles’ reaction to be?

At the moment, Alex was trying to figure all of that out. But the figuring-out part was taking longer than he had expected. He had believed to be done with it all before Christmas. He had expected them to be friends again by this point. A part of him had expected, maybe even hoped, to have fallen out of love with Miles by now. Then it would have been so much easier to go to Miles, explain it all and ask for another chance to prove himself as a friend.

Hence the Christmas present. A hand-stitched, one of a kind, monogrammed pajama, made for Miles. Alex had personally looked up the best tailor in Paris, had hand-picked the fabric, had given detailed instructions and had gone back and collected the finished result himself. The perfect gift. But Miles wasn't here to unpack it. Why? Because Alex hadn't fallen out of love yet. And he was still trying hard to select the right words. “Bloody holidays,” murmured Alex and crumbled the piece of wrapping paper beyond recognition.

“Pauline wishes you a wonderful, if belated, Christmas,” Alex's mother Penny called from the hallway of his childhood home. “She wants you to know you're welcome to drop by whenever you want and hopes that you and Miles get over your silly, little argument as soon as possible! Which, dear, is a sentiment I quite share! I'd like to see Miles again some time. It's been a while. He has always dropped by around Christmas!”

“I told you,” grumbled Alex, “it's not a silly, little argument. That I would have been able to fix! It's a bit more complicated than that!”

“Maybe,” suggested his mother, using that stern, trust-me tone that she had perfected and loved aiming at him for as long as he could remember, “you should tell me what happened. That way I can fix it.”

Alex thought about that idea. It had its entertaining notions. How would his parents react if he went and spilled it all? How would they react if he served them the hard, cold truth?

Mom, Dad, here's what went down: Miles and I fucked until we couldn't see straight anymore, fell asleep, then I snuck out without a word. Naturally, things went downhill from there. Ideas?

The mere thought of that made him laugh.

“Something funny, dear?”

“Could you stop calling me that?”

“No.”

Mothers.

“He's in London, you know? He's staying there for a bit. Pauline told me,” explained Penny. “In case you want to go there. To fix things,” she added pointedly. “Did you insult him? Did you say something bad about his music? Did you break one of his guitars again?”

He rolled his eyes, not moving an inch from the couch. Oh, he had no intention of doing anything anytime soon. He was planning on spending the next days wallowing in self-pity, smoking, drinking, and in general, not giving a damn about anything. “No, I didn't know. No, I did not insult him.” Even the suggestion that he would have done that was bizarre by itself! “I did not say a bad thing about his music! And could you please stop bringing up that guitar-thing? We were jamming out to the Sex Pistols. I got him a new guitar, didn't I?” He sighed heavily. “May I remind you that he broke my window. How come you never hold that against him?”

“He paid for the new window. And he apologized profoundly for it. Besides, if you hadn't filled him up with Tequila, he wouldn't have tried to play basket ball with a brick.”

Alex's jaw dropped. “Is that what he told you? He bought the Tequila himself! He filled me up that night!”

“Oh dear, don't bother. Miles wouldn't do that,” said his mother, amused. “He's too nice for that.”

Too nice? Alex scoffed. Miles? His Miles? Well, he wasn't his Miles any longer, but the idea that Miles Kane was too nice was ridiculous. Alex's mind drifted back to that night last fall. Images of himself, face down, holding onto the cushions for dear life while Miles was having his way with him filled his head. His entire body heated up at the memories. He could still feel Miles' hot breath on his skin, still hear the filthy, provocative words as he came deep inside of him. No, too nice wasn't a term Alex would ever use to describe him. He'd go with hard, wild, passionate, or ravenous. Gentle and kind, but vigorous and rough at just the same time. Fucking addictive, that's what Miles was! Alex swallowed hard.

“Alexander?!”

“Huh?”

“I asked, will you stay for dinner? And what about your girlfriend? When will you bring her around?”

“Uh...soon. Some day. I don't know. Dinner...I don't know yet.” As he watched her make her way back towards the kitchen, he wondered if somewhere in London there was a gift waiting for him. Just as hideously wrapped. Selected by Miles. Unlikely. Judging from the expression of complete and utter disappointment in Miles' eyes last time they saw each other, Alex could be lucky if Miles ever looked at him again.

He got up, grabbed the red-wrapped gift and took it with him upstairs, into his room. How odd it felt to be in here again. The walls still carried the wallpapers from the time he'd gone to school. His old desk sat empty in the corner. His small, single bed, however, looked far more inviting than the massive one he had in his house in France, or the one in his London apartment. This one was made for one person only and it didn't make him feel lonely when he spent his nights alone. He put the gift down on the comforter, sat down on next to it and let his eyes drift around the room.

How much time had passed since he'd moved out? Years. A decade. More, even. The walls were covered in polaroids, pictures taken during their first gigs, when they had been unknown and sometimes booed at. Those times had passed. Which, in a sense, was sad. He still remembered the energy he got from the hecklers, from wanting to prove them wrong.

Alex's gaze lingered on the bookshelf next to the bed. The upper rows were filled with old journals and note pads, filled with lyrics and notes. The most unorganized selection of unreleased songs imaginable. Every once in a while, when he was stuck writing new material, he found himself venturing back to the shelf, digging through some old lines, hoping for inspiration. The lowest shelf carried his old school books. His fingertips traced the creased spine of his old biology book and he smiled. He should throw it away, he thought. He'd never use it again anyway. He was about to pull it out when his eyes caught something shiny below his bed.

A guitar pick. A used, old one. Miles' old one. Alex could tell by the chewing marks on one side. Whenever Miles was struggling with a new melody, he would chew on his guitar pick. It used to drive Alex insane. Now he considered it one of Miles' most endearing little quirks.

Miles.

Alex placed the pick in his pocket, then lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. He wondered what his friend was doing at the moment. Was he wasting the day away as well? Was he writing new material? Was he meeting people? Was he having a good time, or where good times eluding him in the same manner they were eluding Alex at the moment?

2014

“Make your decision, babe. My planet, or yours?”

Alex's head snapped up, meeting Miles' slightly-tired gaze fully. “What did you just say?”

“I've been asking you for minutes wether you want to stay here or if we should head back inside,” spoke Miles with a bit of a grin.

“Yes, yes,” said Alex as he waved his hand, “that's not what I...the words, Mi, the precise words, say them again!”

Miles laughed, but relented, no doubt used by now to his odd requests. “Make your decision, babe. My planet, or yours? Were you paying attention to my words, then?”

“I always do when you play,” assured Alex as he walked over to Miles. “I love those words.” He sat down next to him on the sun lounger by the pool, leaned back and got comfortable. “You've just begun writing this new song of yours, but I swear I can already hear it all in my head. It'll sound so good, Miles!”

Miles placed the guitar away and reclined as well. The lounger was big but not that big and so their sides pressed against one another. Alex didn't mind, and neither seemed Miles. “This night marks the seventh consecutive New Year's Even which we've now spent together!”

“That many?” wondered Miles and chuckled. “I'm surprised we can still stand each other after all that time.”

Alex's lips twisted in amusement. “Yeah, me too. Considering how little you care for me these days. Always touring, hanging out with other musicians, spending your spare time on this twittering-thing...”

“Just Twitter,” laughed Miles and wrapped his arm around Alex's shoulder, pulling him closer. “Besides, if anyone's ignoring anyone, then it's you ignoring me! Always touring, hanging out with other musicians, spending your spare time reading those things they call books...”

Now it was Alex's turn to laugh. And his turn to deepen their contact. He leaned his head against Miles' and looked up, as always fascinated by the firmament. “Did I ever tell you the story about the lonely planet?”

Miles shook his head softly.

“Once upon a time,” began Alex, “far, far away from here, there was a big, beautiful cluster of planets and stars. It would have been a magnificent sight to see, no doubt. But, one day, something happened. I can't tell you when that was, or what precisely occurred. And even the scientists can only guess, but they assume the planets no longer got alone with one another. So they split up. One of the planets took a leap and decided to continue his journey through the endless universe on his own. The rest of the cluster remained behind. One would think that people would find the cluster more interesting than the solitary traveller, however, it's the lonely planet that's capturing the hearts and minds of the curious.”

Alex tilted his head to the side and found Miles giving him the most attentive, interested expression. So close to him, against his side, warmed by his warmth, he felt more content and at peace than he had in a very long time. “Sometimes I watch the sky all night, trying to spot the lonely planet as he journeys on, forever moving forwards and never looking back, and then I think of you.” Their eyes met. “You're the bravest person I know, Miles.”

“No,” whispered Miles, shaking his head so gently that Alex couldn't see, only tell my the movement against his cheek. “I'm scared all the time, Al. You're the one who has never shied away from anything. If it weren't for you, I don't even think we'd be friends today. I didn't have the guts to walk up to you. You walked up to me!”

“That's because you left me no choice,” explained Alex. A soft chuckle escaped him as he remembered their early days. “Here's a secret for you: You're the only person in my life I ever walked up to. All my life I've been lucky enough that I never had to make the first move. Jamie, Matt, they were all just there as long as I can remember. My first girlfriend walked up to me and told me she liked me. So did every other one after that. And those who didn't come to me, never much interested me to begin with. But then there was you. You so stubbornly refused to acknowledge me! No matter how hard I tried, how good I played, or how much of a fool I made out of myself whenever you were near, you just wouldn't budge!”

“What? That's not true.”

“Don't deny it Miles!” Alex rolled to his side, out of Miles' embrace, and propped his head up on his hand. “I tried to catch your attention all the time. From the very moment I saw you!” As he looked into Miles' eyes, Alex spotted the confusion and the surprise. “You really don't remember? The other Monkeys and I had just finished playing our set and I was walking off stage when I saw you sitting in a corner. You were wearing headphones, which was pissing me off, because we had performed really well that night and you had the guts to ignore our live performance for some shit on your iPod. I was watching you for a long time. Your foot was tapping on the ground to some melody and I tried to figure out if I knew the song, tried to decipher what song was so good that it was worth ignoring us for. I couldn't do it. Couldn't figure it out.” He saw it all vividly in his head, almost as though he was back in that club. “There were quite a few people there that night. It was loud and a bit crazy. But you didn't notice any of that. You were so lost in that song that you didn't even notice the girl sitting next to you, trying to talk to you. All of you was focused on that one song coming from your headphones. You were the most fascinating thing in the entire club,” admitted Alex a bit sheepishly, trying not to blush under Miles' gaze. “I swore to myself that one day I would write a song so good that it would capture your attention just like that song did that night.”

Miles mirrored Alex's position, a bit of a shocked expression on his face. “I wasn't—”

“No, no! Don't deny it!” Alex looked away and grinned, but in truth, Miles' undivided attention was too much for him. He hadn't intended to admit any of this to him, but the words just kept coming. Still did. “It went on for so long! You ignoring me? Lasted for weeks! We ran into each other a few times, but never really talked. Sometimes I'd get a little nod from you or something like that, letting me know that, at the very least, you recognized my existence. But never more than that! And so, one night, I was so fed up with it that I swallowed all of my fears, and just walked up to you. I was so scared you would find me weird or boring or even laughable. I remember blurting out my words, asking you to teach me that guitar part, not really saying much else. And I remember your smile. You nodded, I grabbed my guitar, and for the rest of the night, we played together.” Laughter erupted from him. “It occurred to me hours later, long after I had the riff down, that I had yet to give you my name. But, by then, it really made no sense at all to just randomly drop it and you hadn't directly addressed me so I couldn't tell wether or not you already knew my name. All of that really confused me and made me mess up all the notes you had spent the night teaching me.”

“So that's why you gave me that piece of paper?” Miles' eyes were still glued to him.

Alex nodded. In retrospect it must have seemed so odd to him at that time. But back then? “I considered it the perfect solution. I wrote my name and number on a piece of paper and handed it to you at the end of the night. It's the only time in my entire life that I ever did that. You're unique in my life, Miles. In every sense of the word,” added Alex, his voice soft and quiet.

He didn't do this with any other person in his life, family, friend or lover. To speak so vulnerably and openly about his actions, his motivations and his feelings scared him for it left him defenseless and put him in a position where he could easily get hurt. But with Miles, he was safe. Miles never laughed at his admissions, never made fun of him for being emotional or made light of his words. Instead, he let Alex know that he was deeply appreciative of being trusted so profoundly.

“I said a thousand million things, that I could never say this morning.” Miles's hushed words broke the silence into which Alex had drifted. At the sound of his old lyrics, Alex's attention perked up and he stared at Miles in surprise. Miles' cheeks carried a soft blush. “That's the line I was stuck on. That night, in the club, when you watched me wearing headphones, I was trying to figure out what made you write those words.”

Alex sat up straight, staring down at Miles. “What?”

Miles took a deep breath. He lay backwards on the lounger and continued, avoiding Alex's eyes. “It wasn't that crazy that night. And it wasn't really crowded, either. I saw you on stage, I heard you playing in front of an half-empty club. You were almost done with your set and even though you guys weren't superstars back then and people had yet to print your names on shirts, the ones that were there to watch you loved you and were in awe of you. Back in those days, you were still trying to find yourself. It would be a while until you'd become your sassy self. But even then there was this aura around you. Something magical. I remember seeing some girls in the audience who were desperately trying to catch your eye. They all failed miserably. Your whole attention was on the music and finding the perfect way to deliver it just right. I don't know why, but in that moment I promised myself that some day I would catch your attention while you're on stage, just because it seemed so very elusive and unattainable, like a unicorn. So there's a secret for you, Alex. You had me hooked around your little finger long before I even knew your number.”

Timidly, Miles searched for Alex's gaze. And found it. “I'm probably not supposed to tell you this, but I was listening to an illegally downloaded bootleg version of 'From the Ritz to the Rubble'. And that piece of paper with your number? I still have that.” The last part came out almost too low for Alex to hear. “My mom found it in my pocket a few days later and asked me if I had any intentions of calling this 'Alexandra'? I told her you were a guy, named Alex, and before I could even begin to tell her about your band and our evening, she asked me if you looked cute and whether or not I planned on bringing you around one day.”

Alex laughed out loud as he lay back down next to Miles. Closer, this time. He bent one arm, laid it on Miles' chest and began playing with one of the buttons of his shirt. “Well, did you say I was cute?”

“I believe I did. You know, in that baby-rockstar kind of way.”

“Hey!”

Miles stuck out his tongue and smirked. “You should have worn a leather jacket that night and not that old varsity sweater. Maybe then I would have described you as hot.”

Alex grinned, quite happy with the fact that Miles remembered their beginning in as fondly a manner as he did. “Think I look hot in a leather jacket, huh?”

Miles rolled his eyes, but smiled. “You know you do. That's why you have so many!”

After a few moments of companionable silence, Alex leaned over Miles and reached for his acoustic. He handed it to him. “Play it again for me, will you?”

“The riff? It's really all I have so far.”

“Doesn't matter. I fear I might have irreversibly fallen in love with your melody.”

“You're such a bloody flirt,” said Miles with a playful wink, adjusted the guitar and begun strumming. “Enjoy.”

Present Day

Alex pulled out his phone, scrolled through the contacts and pushed dial. “Hey, that invitation for New Year's Eve? That still goes?”

“Of course,” said his friend James. “I'll text you the address. Hey, um, he'll be there. Just so you know. There's some rumors and–”

“All's fine,” reassured Alex and hung up. This year would be the twelfth New Year's Eve he and Miles would spend together. And even if they weren't talking at the moment, at some point in the future they would be talking again. He'd make sure of that. Somehow, down the road, he'd find a way to fix them. It would be a shame if they broke their tradition just because a bit of sex and love had gotten in the way it.

Alex got off the bed and grabbed his big duffle bag. The first thing he put in there was Miles' gift. Around that, he stuffed some shirts, a few pants, his favorite pair of leather boots and, naturally, a leather jacket. His favorite one. Miles owned the same one. They had gotten it the same week, in separate cities, unaware of each other, until they'd shown up to some party wearing matching outfits. They had spent the entire night laughing about it.

Once the bag was full, Alex sat back on the bed, took a notepad from the shelf, grabbed a pencil and flipped through the pages until he spotted an empty one.

“Dear Miles,

Speaking my mind, as becomes clearer to me day by day, is, for now, entirely unmanageable. As I have told you last fall, I could fill a series of albums with the amount of truths I'd like to share with you. But it's not the notion of being honest that makes me avoid doing so, it's the part that follows. I quite fear for your reaction. We've always been brutally honest with each other and there's never been a moment in which I've regretted it. Until now, though, there has never been a truth as big as the one which is currently burdening my shoulders. I'm in love with you. And not just a little bit. Imagine that. I want to be your friend, but in your presence my heart's desires overpower my mind's demands. I want you to trust me with your friendship, but how can I ask that of you when I don't trust my own self to keep a platonic distance towards you? I miss our nearness, our comfortable proximity, I miss the warmth I received in your arms when you held me as your friend, but how do I return into your friendly embrace when the longing for a different heat makes me seek out your arms in an utterly carnal manner? These are the questions I need to find answers to before I can figure out how to make amends for the mess I've created. I hope that yo—”

“Alex,” his mother called from downstairs, “your Dad needs your help. Can you come down for a moment?”

Alex rolled his eyes, stuffed the notepad back into the shelf and made his way downstairs. “What's he doing?”

“He tried playing that Bowie song that you and Miles used to perform and he used your guitar for that. The brown one? With the hideous strap? The loud one, Alex. You know which one I mean. Anyway, he messed around with the silver thing, the shiny – the whatever you call it—”

“Bigsby?”

“It won't make any noises anymore. Can you help him?”

“Of course,” he said, chuckled at the idea of his dad playing Bowie on his electric, and made his way towards the garage. “Oh, I won't stay for dinner, by the way,” he called over his shoulder. “I'll be leaving for London later.”

“Good decision, dear. Give our greetings to Miles, will you?”

“I won't...oh whatever.”

#the briefest kiss #milex #miles kane alex turner #milex fanfic #milex fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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justanoutlawfic · 6 years

Text

Guilt: 2/2

Heavily anti C$. Prompted to me by ICantThinkOfADecentUsername: Could be kinda cool to see a follow up with Emma talking it through with her parents, and a little sarky Regina never goes amiss? ;)

The first part takes place before Snow Queen’s talk in the first chapter and the rest is what happened after. Again, Snowing is very honest with their feelings, as is Regina. I wouldn’t call this anti Emma, but she’s called out on her faults and is forced to re-examine how she’s allowed her loved ones to be treated.

Also on AO3

David laid in bed with Snow the morning after the curse had been broken and he could barely take his hands off of her. He had missed getting to kiss her and not falling asleep directly after. He missed hearing her voice in person and not just over a video recording. He had missed her beautiful eyes, that smile that melted his heart, the very one she shared with their son. They were reunited again, he had never given up hope that they would be. Even so, it was as if they were meeting again for the first time. When they had made love, it was exciting and new.

“Mmm, what are you thinking about?” Snow whispered.

“The fact that this past month seemed longer than the 28 years we were cursed,” he mumbled, kissing her neck. She smiled at him for a minute, but when he pulled away, he could see her frown. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I made a mistake last night, David.”

He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“When we got the pixie dust to save us…I gave it to Emma…to find Hook.”

David sat up in bed a bit, studying her face. “Why?”

“I was reminded of what we did when we briefly woke up during the curse.” Snow swallowed. “We should’ve gone for her…we should’ve…”

“Hey.” David put a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes. “I know.”

“You wanted to and I…”

“You did the right thing. You lead with your brain instead of your heart. If we had gone after Emma, who knows what would’ve happened. I didn’t know how this world worked back then, but now I do. We would’ve been arrested for kidnapping or abandonment if they found out who we were. We had no way of knowing that Emma was in danger.”

“Still…David, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kissed her. “We both made a choice that day and in the end, as heartbreaking as it was, I do think it was the right one.”

“Last night wasn’t.”

“Well…” He sighed. “No. I probably wouldn’t have done the same thing in your shoes.”

“I just felt so guilty. I didn’t want her to be apart from him any longer than she had to be.”

David paused. “What are we supposed to do when he comes back here, Snow? How am I supposed to face the man that killed my father? That lied to me about it, couldn’t even be man enough to tell me to my face? This isn’t like when Regina killed Leopold.”

Snow knew that was true. For so long, she had viewed it as the same…and then she found out the kind of man her father was and just exactly how the marriage had gone down. Her father had been abusive and treated Regina terribly. It was the one murder that Regina didn’t regret and Snow didn’t fault her for that. Killian and Leopold were nowhere near the same.

“I don’t know,” Snow admitted. “I…I don’t know how I feel about our daughter still wanting to marry the man that destroyed your childhood for no good reason.”

“I get that we forgive people in this family…look at Regina…but again…”

“It is different. No matter what, she’s proven that she’s changed. Look at all she’s done for our family and everyone else. Killian…well, about two months ago he nearly made Neal an orphan again. Now, this.”

“So, what do we do?”

Snow sat up in bed, thinking for a moment. “We’re honest with her. We’ll help her save Hook, because that’s the right thing to do. But…we don’t hide how we feel anymore. We’ve spent so much time putting everyone’s happiness above our own and worrying about hurting Emma’s feelings, afraid she won’t want to talk to us anymore…it’s time we stop and put our feelings first.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

David had sat quietly while Emma searched through potions, testing things out. He didn’t know what to say and he really did want Killian to be saved from Neverland. No matter what his feelings on the man, being a hero meant doing what was right, not what was easy and the right thing was to save him. Even so, he didn’t know how to start the conversation with his daughter.

“If only we could find another one of those flowers,” Emma mumbled.

“It seems like Fiona wiped them all out.”

“Damn fairies.”

“Emma…” David bit his lip. “We need to talk about what’s going to happen when Hook gets back.”

She turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Are you two…I mean, as far as you said the last time we talked, the wedding was off.”

“That was before I found out that he didn’t leave me.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

David sighed, standing up and walking over to his daughter.

“Emma, I love you. More than anything, all I want is for you to be happy. I know that your mother and I have prevented that happiness in the past…”

“Dad…”

“No, we have. We destined you to be the savior and we put you through the wardrobe, then didn’t come for you when we could…we’ve made a lot of mistakes and I think that’s what makes us want to give you whatever makes you happy. It’s why we followed you to the Underworld.”

Emma tilted her head. “I feel a but coming on.”

“Hook…he isn’t the man that we pictured for you. At first we thought maybe he had changed, maybe he was becoming a better person. But, Emma…he killed my father.”

“And Regina killed Leopold.”

“Because he was abusive and was going to lock her away for leaving him. You have to recognize that the two aren’t the same.”

“Well…okay, yes. Your father didn’t deserve what happened to him, but Killian really has changed.”

“Has he? Emma, you told me he was trying to burn his memories. He saw what my father’s death did to me…how badly it hurt me…and when he realized it was him, he couldn’t even be man enough to tell me.”

“Like you and Mom didn’t tell me about Maleficent.”

“That was wrong,” David admitted. “We know it was and that’s why we came clean. Your mother told me something that night. Being a hero means doing what’s right, not what’s easy.”

Emma’s mouth opened, then closed again. “I…I can’t believe you’re doing this. I can’t believe that you’re trying to stop me from being happy.”

“I want you to be happy, Emma, I do. All I want is for you to get everything that you want in life and I think for so long, your mother and I were scared to say anything because we prevented that. I just…I can’t be quiet anymore. I have to be honest with you and tell you how I really feel about this engagement.”

“And that is?”

David drew back a deep breath and looked into his daughter’s eyes. He didn’t want to hurt her, oh God, that was the last thing he wanted. He loved her more than anything and so badly, he wanted to go back to pretending everything was okay. Then he glanced over at his son. Neal would be a year old soon. One day, he’d grow up and see how Hook acted. He’d assume that was okay, that was how they wanted him to treat his future partner. He had to do this, for his family…for himself.

“It hurts that you want to marry a man that destroyed my life,” he said. “A man that took my father from me, for no good reason. Who allowed me to believe that my father was a drunk, that made me feel insecure and have nightmares for my entire life. Who contributed to my farm being in poverty because only my mom could run it. To me going hungry. It hurts that you are putting your own happiness above everyone else’s and that you almost let me and your mother die, just so you could be reunited with the man that has hurt us time and time again. Yet…I get it, because I have set very selfish examples for you and I wonder if it’s my fault. Which is why I’m doing this, Emma. To show that this relationship…it’s hurt a lot of people.”

Emma stared at him in shock. He could tell that her words were sinking in, but that she wished they didn’t. She wished she hadn’t heard them, that he wasn’t being so honest with her.

“Your father’s right, Emma.” Both turned around to find Snow and Regina standing in the doorway. His wife walked closer to her. “We’ve supported you, we’ve really tried to put our own feelings aside so you can be happy. Now…we have to be honest. If you marry Hook, we’ll be there. We’ll throw you a wedding fit for a princess. But you have to know how badly it hurts that you’re making this choice. We know we’ve hurt you and we know that we’ve been selfish. And we’re not making you choose between us, we just need you to know the truth.”

Emma looked over at Regina. “And how do you feel about all of this?”

“I don’t want him around Henry alone,” Regina said. “I don’t think that he’s step-father material. As I told you in the Underworld, you’re too good for him.”

“So…all of you hate my fiancé.”

“We don’t hate him, Emma.” Snow took her hand. “We just don’t trust him and if it were up to us, he wouldn’t be apart of this family. But he’s your choice. You just need to know how all of us feel.”

“Basically, if I choose to be happy, then I make all of you miserable.”

“Are you really happy with him, though?”

“I’m his happy ending!”

“But is he yours?”

Emma pulled away from her mother, grabbing hold of the potions and her jacket.

“If none of you are going to help, I’ll just do it myself.”

“That’s what you’ve gotten out of this, Miss Swan?” Regina snapped. “That we’re not going to help you? We followed you down to the fucking Underworld for him, even after he tried to kill us. Your parents are willing to help you find him now and plan a damn wedding for the two of you, despite their feelings. The Emma I met wasn’t this selfish. She thought of others, she actually took other people’s feelings into account. Where is the woman that nearly killed me for accidentally putting Henry in a coma? Or fought for Mary Margaret, even when all signs pointed to her murderer? This man has changed you and not for the better.”

Regina let out a deep breath, looking from the shocked Emma then over to her friends, before back to Emma.

“My mother killed my fiancé when she didn’t approve. That’s not helping. You have two parents here, willing to do anything for you. Two parents that have constantly given up their own happiness to help and save others, myself included. They have been selfish and done some evil things at times, but at the end of the day, I cannot picture better people to have in my corner. They have forgiven practically every villain, again, including me. Doesn’t it speak volumes to you that they have reservations about you marrying this man?”

Emma’s nostrils flared and she quickly swallowed, before storming out the door. Regina ran her fingers through her hair, shaking her head.

“Thank you, Regina,” David whispered.

“I’m just sorry she’s acting like this,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “I think we’ve all kept our mouths shut too long about him.”

Snow smiled as she watched David feed Neal. It was so good to see her boys in the same place again, both awake and having fun. She hadn’t shared with him that she had heard Neal’s first word, she let him think he got it. After all, Emma had said “Mom” first, both times, it was only fair that he got to experience “Daddy”.

Thinking of Emma brought a frown to her face. It had been a day since they aired their feelings and she hadn’t come by or called. To be fair, they weren’t exactly reaching out to her. They had said their peace and hoped that she would still come around to them. They loved her, they wanted to be in her life, especially after missing so much. They’d still attend the wedding and help her plan it, Killian could be apart of the family if that’s what she wanted.

But at least now she really knew how they felt about it. According to Regina, they had fond a way to bring Killian home, but that was all she knew. Emma wasn’t exactly being open with her either after everything she said.

The door opened and Emma walked in, catching both of them off guard. They expected to see Killian with her, but she was alone.

“Hi,” she said, softly. When Neal started to call her name, she walked over and lifted him out of his high chair to give him a cuddle.

“Hey,” David said. “We um, heard that Hook is back in Storybrooke.”

“He was. He um, left this morning.”

“Oh?”

It was then, that Snow noticed that Emma’s engagement ring was still missing from her finger.

“I thought about what you guys said.” Emma sighed. “I didn’t realize that I was hurting you…I never thought of your feelings and that wasn’t okay.”

Snow looked at her husband, then her. “Well, we didn’t always show the best example.”

“Maybe not, but Regina was right. The fact that you two were so hesitant, it says a lot.” She glanced over at David. “I know we had similar upbringings and I should’ve taken your feelings into consideration more.”

“I just want you to be happy, Em,” he said. “And if that’s him…I can find a way to live with it.”

“I don’t know what’s going to make me happy, but I told him to take the voyage job with Nemo and Liam. They’re going to be gone at least a year and it’ll give me the space I need.”

“So…you’re not going to marry him?”

“No. At least not now…probably not ever. I made an appointment with Archie. I have to work on myself before I can even think about being in a relationship. I’m just…I’m really, really sorry for how I treated the two of you.”

David and Snow walked over to her and wrapped their arms around her, David cradling the back of her head.

“So…it’s that easy? I’m forgiven?” She asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

“We love you, Emma. We’ll always forgive you.”

There was a long road ahead, but they’d walk it together.

#guilt verse #anti captain swan #snowing #snowing au #charming family #charming family au #snow queen #snow queen au #evil snowing #evil snowing au #evil charming #evil charming au #anti captain hook

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123goth · 3 years

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Dona paula

She is standing there at the Jetty. Looking at a distant ship, she hopes to be on one. So she could just run away from all the trouble this life had been giving her lately. Yes, she’s looking for an escape. And probably that’s the reason why she has come thousands of miles away from her hometown, hoping to leave her worries behind. But it seems like that didn’t help either. In a city full of strangers, she’s feeling vulnerable. Why won’t she? She’s never been anywhere alone after all. And this unplanned trip to Goa has never been on her bucket list. Of course, she wanted to come here, but not like this. Not as a loner who is looking for some peace of mind. But the turn of events that took place lately changed everything. And all of a sudden, she just wanted to get as far away from that place as possible and landed up here in Goa.

Yashasvi had recently completed her post-graduation in MBA. And in the weeks that followed, she found herself surrounded by sorrows and trepidations. Despite being 26 years old, Yashasvi had spent her entire life in Delhi. Never been out of town for more than a week. She doesn’t even remember when was the last time she partied or came back home late at night. One of the shortcomings of being an introvert she thought. And coming thousands of miles away from Delhi all alone was a bold move. But after all that she had seen, staying home was the last thing she wanted.

It’s her second day in Goa and after spending the previous night at a hotel in Panaji, she has come to Dona Paula, a famous tourist spot located in the suburbs of Panaji. But despite being in some beautiful places, she can’t get away from the past. It seemed to be following her like an owl wherever she went.

She’s still not sure if her decision of coming to Goa was a good idea. She just needed an escape.

Keeping her purse on the ledge, she checks her phone. No new messages. She was afraid that her mom and dad had figured out where she was. Of course, they won’t know she’s in Goa. And how would they? They had barely even talked to her in the last two weeks. The truth is, they were both so consumed, trying to deal with their f**ked up relationship that they partly forgot that they have a daughter too.

Yashasvi had left a note for them before leaving. She lied that she was going to stay in Noida for a few days at Neha’s flat. Neha was Yashasvi’s childhood friend and her parents knew her well. She knew that Neha was the only person her parents could trust and they won’t be worried about her, especially at this point. She had also written that she needed some time alone, and won’t be coming back until this Sunday and don’t try to call.

Putting her phone back in the purse, she tried to calm her senses. As if trying to let go of the thoughts that have been tormenting her for as long as she can remember. For the first few minutes, it did help a little, but then it started coming back at her, with full force. As if the past is going to hunt her down no matter where she goes. Wearily, she decides to go back to her hotel room. Just as she was walking away, she saw a man in the black shirt walking backward in her direction. Accompanied by a girl, supposedly her wife or girlfriend, he was sort of teasing her and getting away from her. Still walking backward, he accidentally jolted and his back touched the ledge, pushing Yashasvi’s purse into the water.

It couldn’t have been worse for a girl who was probably going through the worst phase of her life. She got panicked as anyone else would in that situation. All her important things were in that bag. Her IDs, her credit card, her phone, her hotel room keys.

Crying for help, she couldn’t stop the tears rolling down her eyes. The guy in the black shirt kept apologizing for what he did. But that did nothing to placate Yashasvi who had just lost the most precious thing to a girl, her purse. A few other people gathered there to know what the matter was. People joined the conversation but none came forward to help her.

That’s when a tall bearded guy came materialized from the shadows and came forward to know what the matter was.

“What happened here?” he asked in a foreign accent.” Are you alright mam?”

The guy was a foreigner. With a pale white complexion, he looked like an American.

“My purse, it fell and I..,” she mumbled. Tears forming beneath her eyes, she found it hard to speak.

“It’s okay. I’ve got this,” he said. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m a professional diver. Just tell me where it fell, show me the spot. “

Clueless about what was going to happen next, she pointed toward the water surface where the purse had fallen.

That’s when a tall bearded guy came materialized from the shadows and came forward to know what the matter was.

“What happened here?” he asked in a foreign accent.” Are you alright mam?”

The guy was a foreigner. With a pale white complexion, he looked like an American.

“My purse, it fell and I..,” she mumbled. Tears forming beneath her eyes, she found it hard to speak.

“It’s okay. I’ve got this,” he said. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m a professional diver. Just tell me where it fell, show me the spot. “

Clueless about what was going to happen next, she pointed toward the water surface where the purse had fallen.

What’s that?” she wanted to ask but instead, she just smiled.

“Yashasvi,” she shook hands with him.

“Yass..vi,” he stuttered. Yashhvi, right?

“It’s Yash-as-vi,” she made it easy for him to understand.

“Alright, Yashhsvi,” he said. “Yeah, am I right?” he smiled.

“Yeah, that’s better,” she laughed.

“It was nice meeting you Yashhsvi,” he said. Want me to help with the purse?

“No, it’s fine,” she said. But thank you so much for your help. I’ll be okay.

“Yeah, alright,” he said. Just be careful next time with the purse, he smiled and left.

Despite the hysteria, she was going through, the incident brought a fleeting smile on her face. Although it lasted only for a few seconds. When she opened her purse, everything inside was messed up. Her phone was dead and everything inside was all wet. Luckily, she wasn’t carrying that much cash. She wasn’t even sure if her credit and debit cards were going to work, not in this condition at least. She knew she had to dry them first. But she didn’t even have the money she needed to go back to her hotel which was in Panaji. She needed help who would understand her situation? The last thing she wanted was to get into more trouble than she already had.

As she turned, she saw the bearded American guy was still there, standing at some distance, admiring the infamous statue of Dona Paula. That being the last resort, she decided to ask him for help one more time.

“Hi,...Josh,” she said.

“Oh, hey Yashhsvi,” he smiled. Everything alright? Do you need some help?

“Yes..yes actually,” she stuttered. I don’t know how to say this, I’ve already given you enough trouble and I…

“Ahh, what trouble? It’s nothing,” he said. I’m a professional diver, I told you. It’s what I do for a living. Tell me how can I help.

“It turns out that all the cash I was carrying in my purse has been washed away,” she said. And I’m not sure if my cards are going to work either. I need to go to my hotel, it’s in Panaji but with all this, I doubt if I’m ever going to get there.

“Oh, it’s alright,” he said. Don’t worry, I’ll get you a cab to your hotel and I’ll pay for it.

“No. no, you don’t have to do that, really,” she said. Just take me to the nearby ATM and help me put these cards to use. I’ll withdraw some cash and I’ll be fine with the rest.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied. Absolutely.

“Alright, just let me take one picture first,” he fished out his cellphone and raised it in front of the Dona Paula statue with the camera on, to capture it.

“Do you mind if I ask something,” she said.

“Yeah, please go ahead,” he said.

“Do you like this statue?” she said.

She looked at the statue again and didn’t find it intriguing. A stone statue of a man and a woman, the woman looking straight into the ocean and the man pointing his hand to the left toward the jetty. Not intriguing at all.

“Nah, not really,” he said. It’s just the legend that excites me.

“Legend? With this statue?”

“Well, it’s more of a myth actually,” he said. Would you like to hear it?

“Of course,” she said. Please tell me.

“Alright, here it goes,” he said.

So the lady you see there is Paula. She was the daughter of a Portuguese Viceroy. Paula and her family arrived here in Goa in the early 1640s. She was only 17 years old when she came here. Initially, Paula wasn’t happy with this place. She missed her home, she missed her people, and most of all, she missed the friends that she left behind. Paula felt lonely, she had no one to talk to, no friends to play or spend time with.

In the weeks that followed, she met the Portuguese governor-general who lived in this village called Oddavell. The two fell in love and started meeting secretly here at the Jetty. Although the governor was her father’s age, love blossomed between the two and soon, the governor expressed his desire to marry her. Paula was so happy. She was already dreaming of her future with him, as his beloved wife. There was just one problem. The governor was already married and he fathered two children. However, he assured Paula that he’ll take care of everything.

One day, the governor’s wife got to know about his affair with Paula. Frightened of losing her husband, she conspired to cast Paula away from their lives, once and for all. On a fine evening like this, when Paula was waiting for the governor, his wife sent her men to abduct her and take her to a nearby cathedral. Her men did the same and brought Paula to the cathedral where the governor’s wife was waiting for her. Her cruel intentions were to kill Paula but before that, she thought that Paula should be punished first for the adultery she had committed. On her orders, poor Paula was tortured and beaten for hours. In the end, she was stripped naked and murdered. Her body was tossed into the ocean at this exact spot. It is said that when she was dumped into the water, all she was wearing was a pearl necklace.

Soon after her death, numerous villagers claimed to have seen her spirit wandering at the Jetty, waiting for the governor like she used to do while she was alive. As a tribute to her eternal love for the governor, the local villagers built this statue and named this village after her. Three centuries later, even today, if you ask the local villagers who live nearby, they’ll tell countless stories about Paula’s spirit materializing from the waters. It is believed that on a full moon night, Paula can be seen emerging from the ocean, wearing nothing but a pearl necklace.

Yashasvi was dumbfounded. She was so lost in the story that she just heard that she could barely move. It was as if she lived the entire story. For a moment, she compared her pain with that of Paula. It was nothing compared to what the poor girl had to endure.

“Are you alright miss?” Josh waved his hand in front of her eyes to bring her back from her daydream.

“Na..nothing,” she said. I’m okay. Kinda just lost in the story. God, it’s so painful. What happened with the governor after Paula’s death? Didn’t he do anything to avenge her death?

“Nobody knows,” Josh said. As I told you, it’s just a myth. There’s no evidence to prove it though.

“Hard to believe it’s untrue, the way you recited the story,” she said.

“I take it as a compliment,” he laughed.

“And why do we call this place Dona Paula?” she asked. Was it her full name?

“Well, according to Portuguese customs, Dona is the title given to a married woman,” he said. Marrying the governor was her only desire that wasn’t fulfilled while she was alive. So after her death, the villagers decided to venerate her with the salutation, Dona as an attempt to consummate her unfulfilled desire. Therefore, they named this village Dona Paula and erected this sculpture to honor her everlasting love.

“Wow! I’m speechless,” she said.

“I know, the story of Dona Paula does that to everyone,” he said.

“You want me to click your picture here,” he offered.

“No no, I’m okay,” she said.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” he said. Let me take one for myself. It will remind me of the girl who’s whose purse I saved here in India.

“Well, then,” she laughed and posed in front of the statue.

“Nice,” Josh said as he clicked her picture. Come on, let’s get you some cash first.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to ask,” she said as they walked across the Jetty to find the nearby ATM. Where are you from?

“I’m from Germany, basically,” he said. I used to live in Hamburg. But I haven’t been there in the last five years.

“Oh, but why?” she asked.

“Can’t tell you that,” he said. I just don’t feel like going back anymore. I don’t have a compelling reason, after all. Besides, I like it the way I keep it. Exploring new places, meeting new people, living on the edge.

“Yeah, I can see that,” she smiled. So you’ve been in India for all this time?

“Not really, I only came here last month,” he said. Before that, I was in Southeast Asia.

“And you’re a diver, right?” she asked?

“Yup, a diving instructor,” he said. I’ve been into all sorts of water sports. Scuba diving, kayaking, rafting, surfing, skimboarding, and now flyboarding.

“Wow! I haven’t tried any of them,” she said. Except for rafting, I did it once while I was in Rishikesh.

“Tell me more about your life,” she said. Where did you live in Southeast Asia?

“A lot of places,” he said. It started with Manila in the Philippines and then Thailand, Vietnam, Singapore, and Malaysia. Before coming to Goa, I was working for Flyboard Malaysia. I’ve been living in Malaysia for the last two years.

“Your life must be amazing,” she said. I wish I could live like that.

“It’s not as amazing as it looks,” he laughed. Tell me about you. Where are you from and have you come here alone?

“With my friends actually,” she lied. They’re at the hotel. I’m from Delhi by the way, came here with my office colleagues.

“Cool,” he said. So how did you end up coming here alone?

“Fought with my friends,” she said, making that up. A stupid silly argument.

“Ahh, gotcha. I thought so,” he said. Do you want to call them up? You can use my phone.

“What? No no, not really,” she said. I’m still angry at them.

“Really,” he laughed. You shouldn’t be. Whatever happened, happened, right?

“Ummm, you’re right,” she said. It’s just that, I just can’t…..

“Alright, so here it goes. I lied to you about my friends,” she said. I came here alone. Nothing was going right in my life, it was so fucked up. I could barely sleep at night and was overthinking a lot. I just needed an escape, you know? And so I spontaneously took a decision, booked my tickets, and landed up here in Goa.

“Umm, that’s pretty honest of you,” he said. Don’t worry, it’s a part of life. Everything’s gonna be alright, trust me. And if it’s not alright, then it’s not the end.

“Thanks, it’s so nice of you,” she said. Hey wait, I know this quote. It’s what John Lennon said, right?

“Ahh, you know him,” he exclaimed. Wow.

“My dad used to be a fan of The Beatles,” she said. I’ve been brought up listening to Strawberry Fields and the White album.

“Amazing,” he smiled. My grandfather once attended their gig when they were performing in Hamburg back in 1960. He’s even got a picture with them.

“Nice, I wish I could have seen them performing live at least once in my life,” she said.

“So do I,” Josh said. Ahh, I can see the ATM over there. Come on, let’s go.

Luckily, the card worked and she took enough cash to last for a few days. She was leaving for Delhi in two days and didn’t want to get into more trouble.

“Alright, so I guess you’re good to go now,” he said.

She knew she could deal with the rest of her mess by herself. But for some strange reason, she didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave this guy just yet, never to see him again. Although she believed that all men are perverts. They’re all interested in the same thing. At first, they pretend that they love you. They treat you like a princess, make you believe that they care. While all they care about is to somehow take you to their bedroom. And then, they get bored of you and they need someone else to do the same. At least, this is what life had taught her. Her boyfriend took minutes to destroy their six years of relationship because he found someone else. Yes, it was painful, excruciating for the first few weeks, but she could live with that. But something that tore her into pieces was her father doing the same thing to her mother.

“Oh, yeah, so I guess I gotta go now,” she said.

As she turned, she felt something pulling her toward this stranger. He was a foreigner, a stranger. And even though they’ve only talked for like 15 minutes, she felt a strong connection that she never had felt with anyone else.

“Hey, we..wait,” he yelled and Yashasvi turned around.

“Yasshhvi, I have a friend of mine who works at the Paradise Cruise which happens to be in Panaji,” he said. Last week he invited me on board for a gig but I didn’t get the chance to go.

“Would you like to come?” he asked. It’ll be fun. After that, I’d drop you at your hotel myself.

“Wha, what? I don’t know,” she said. Are you sure about that?

“Yeah, absolutely,” he said. It’ll be fun. But I leave it up to you. If you don’t want to go, that’s fine.

She only needed a split second to respond.

“Yes, no, I mean yes,” she stuttered.

“I’d love to go,” she finally said.

*-*-

(To be continued…..)

#thriller #suspence

0 notes

randomly-random-jen · 6 years

Text

Heaven Can’t Wait - Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen - They're So Cute At That Age

Bellamy ignores Kane’s shouted orders to come back. He really doesn’t care and has more important things on his mind. Let him fire me. Solves my problem. There’s nothing wrong with being a tailor.

The voice laughs because he knows Bellamy could never give up the responsibility.

It takes a good twenty minutes of walking before he starts to calm down. He finds himself among the makeshift homes families have built out of whatever scraps they could find. Arkadia is becoming a village.

Was becoming

People are packing up the last of their belongings or dismantling the structures for useful materials. Despite the urgency of their entire situation, they’re calm. Almost happy even. They chat from their porches and watch a group of children kick around a ball.

The girl perks up a little at the sound of their laughter. She stops sucking her thumb, eyes tracking the children with curiosity. As if she’d never seen such creatures before. One of the boys kicks the ball, sending it sailing in their direction. Her eyes widen, but she’s not afraid. It lands with a bounce a few feet away, rolling towards them. Bellamy stops it then gives is a kick. The kids continue to chase after it.

They don’t look to be playing any sport. At least none Bellamy recognizes. But they’re having fun. He’s not sure he remembers what that feels like. Have I ever had fun? He spent his entire childhood worrying about Octavia. Friends and fun were the last things on his mind.

As the older kids move off, the girl focuses her attention on another little girl sitting alone in the dirt. She looks a little older with honey-blond hair, chopped short. Like maybe she did it herself. She rocks and coos at a rag doll in her arms. The girl in his arms starts to squirm.

Bellamy puts her down, and for the first time, she voluntarily leaves his side. She inches closer to the other girl, thumb in her mouth. The other girl looks up with a smile, holding the doll out for her to see. With a little encouragement, she sits with the girl who starts jabbering away to her, unaware or not caring that the girl can’t understand.

“They’re so cute at that age,” a woman says, appearing next to him.

“Huh?”

“They’re curious and don’t care which station you’re from or if you’re a Grounder.”

Bellamy watches the two girls trade the doll back and forth, but doesn’t say anything. What’s there to say? He doesn’t remember being that young and kids sure weren’t station-blind when he was older. He started getting bullied right around the time Octavia was born but was too afraid to do anything for fear of bringing unwanted attention to the family.

“I’m Nicole, by the way,” the woman says, holding out her hand. “That’s my daughter, Cara.”

He shakes her hand. “Bellamy.”

“I know.” Of course she does. Everyone knows the Blake family history, apparently.

He still doesn’t know what to say to her. It must show on his face because she chuckles. “I heard about what happened with-” She gestures at the girls. “The grapevine is vast and active. You just looked a little lost over here. Like you could use some company.”

He’s not sure about that. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

She laughs again. “How are you handling all of this? It’s a huge change.”

Bellamy blinks at her. He’s not sure anyone has asked him how he feels. They ask about the girl all of the time, but him? “I-” He frowns. How am I handling this? The physical aspect of caring for a child isn’t the problem. He’s done it before even if he was just a kid himself. It came easily then with Octavia, and he slipped right into that role again. It’s all the rest that’s weighing on him. The emotional stuff.

Told you not to get attached.

He crosses his arms over his chest like that can settle the panic that chokes him whenever he remembers that she’ll be leaving. Soon, now that Indra is back. He swallows hard, but the lump doesn’t move.

“Overwhelming?”

“You could say that.”

“I felt that way when Cara was born. I was sure I was going to screw everything up.”

“Did you? Screw everything up?”

“All of the time.” Her laugh is infectious. “But I loved every moment of it. I always wished I could do it again—give her the sister I always wanted.”

Bellamy snorts. “Not a good idea.”

“No.” She smiles softly at him. “At least not then. Now-” She rubs her stomach then smiles brightly at his questioning look. “Got lucky—snuck this one in before they reinstated the one-child rule. You know, until after the crisis.”

He’s always heard pregnant women described as glowing. He’s not sure Nicole is glowing, but there’s an air of excitement around her. And contentment. “Congratulations. As someone that did grow up with a sister-” He gives her a smirk. “Good luck.”

That gets a full laugh out of her. “I guess I could come to you for advice on that, huh?”

He shrugs. “I’d say ask Octavia being the sister and all, but she’s not exactly the domestic type. It’s not so much having two but the double amount of trouble they get into. At least that’s what my mom used to mutter most about when we were kids. She was kind of outnumbered.”

“I bet.”

“It’ll be different for you,” he says after a moment. “There was always the fear of being discovered hanging over us. We couldn’t be too loud. Couldn’t attract attention. I used to have to cover Octavia’s mouth when she’d start to cry so no one would hear.”

Why am I telling her this? He’s never talked about his childhood with anyone, not even his closest friends. He doesn’t even talk about it with Octavia. Maybe that’s why? You need to talk to someone about it.

“That had to have been hard. How old were you when she was born?”

“Six.”

They both stare at the kids, lost in their thoughts. Bellamy tries to clear away the memories. It’s pointless to dwell.

“What are you going to do?” Nicole asks. “With her? Are you-” Her meaning is clear.

Bellamy shakes his head. “Indra will find a Grounder family to take her. For the better. She should be with her people.”

Nicole gives him a sad look. “We’re all the same people now, Bellamy.”

He doesn’t say anything. If only that were true. The Grounders don’t believe that and never will. Neither will the Arkadians. The station is going to be a pressure cooker of hostility when they finally close the doors. And it won’t take long to blow. None of this is going to end well. He’s pretty sure she knows it, too.

Across the clearing, the two girls start fighting over the doll. Bellamy shoots Nicole a “see what I mean” look, but she just smiles.

“They’re kids.”

Bellamy sighs. “Right, kids. I should probably go break this fight up, too.”

Nicole follows him, laughing. “Well, me and Cara and Buttons—the doll,” she adds at his confused look, “will be free anytime you want to stop by while you still have her. Parents all need a break once in a while. Even temporary ones.”

Bellamy forces a smile on his face then winces. He carefully prods his lips. They’re busted open and sore. “I should probably go get cleaned up.”

Nicole pats his arm. “I have faith we’ll get through this. All of us.”

He’s about to argue with her because that’s insane talk but instead asks, “Why? Why do you have faith?”

She’s thoughtful for a moment before answering. “Because I have to be.” She runs her hand over her stomach again. “Because there has to be a future for my children.”

Bellamy gets her. Wasn’t I just thinking the same thing the other day?

The girls have apparently settled their differences by the time they get there, once again sharing the doll. This time Nicole gives him a look. He wishes he could see things like she does. He picks up the girl and hugs her tight, the feel of her breath against his neck reassuring.

“If you’re interested,” Nicole says, “we have a story hour every Wednesday in the mess hall. Ten AM.”

Bellamy racks his brain for a date.

She chuckles. “It’s Tuesday.”

Clarke was right. She always is. “I’ll think about it.”

Cara waves bye as she follows her mother to one of the cabins where a man with red hair scoops her up.

The girl rests her head on Bellamy’s shoulder, watching her new friend. He pats her back until she looks over at him. “How ‘bout some lunch, huh? Eat?”

She cocks her head, but he’s pretty sure she understands more than she’s letting on.

Chapter 16 | Chapters | Chapter 18

#fanfic #the 100 fanfic #bellarke fanfiction #heaven can't wait #making new friends

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swanderful1 · 7 years

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A Cold Awakening: Ch 13/?

Summary: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Notes: Hi everyone, thanks so much for the support once again I can’t say enough how much it means to me. Here is chapter 13 and I hope you enjoy. Feel free to read, rate, review, direct message me, just say hello. Whatever floats your boat!

The remainder of the story can be found on AO3 and ffnet

Words: 8700

Rating: F for fluffy

The events following the discovery of the recipe book/journal seemed to move in a fast motion that Emma could barely keep up with. Her mind too tangled with the fact that whomever had left it, had been at her home. On her porch. On her steps. Waltzed right up to the front door and deposited what was supposed to be an insanely helpful piece of evidence. But what Emma found, as she dove deep into the final years of Moira Jones’ life, was that the answers she was looking for would not come so easily.

Shortly after David arrived, several others from Graham’s team showed up. The recipe book was taken back to the station for safe keeping and locked away in the evidence room. Graham had told Emma she could stay and read the entries if she wanted but that it might be a good idea to wait on it, since she had been at a bar drinking, it was already late and the evidence of she and Killian’s most recent rendezvous was still still drying on her legs beneath her jeans. Of fucking course. She finally had decent (phenomenal) sex and couldn’t even bask in the glory for an hour before there was something pressing occupying the entirety of her attention. For once Emma agreed with Graham, she had been drinking, it was late and if she was to approach this journal at her best it would have to be entirely sober.

“Em, why don’t you come stay at our house tonight?” David suggested as they stood on the curb in front of her home. Watching on as a team of people from the Boston department dusted for prints and scoured for any other kind of hints.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed. Not really wanting to be alone in her house after what had just happened. The whole experience leaving a bad taste in her mouth. No neighbors to ask if they had seen anything, the house so secluded, someone could have came and went without notice. She crossed her arms over her chest to block off the cool breeze that tore through the air. David, putting his arm around her shoulder, walked her to his car and drove them to her childhood home. Where Mary Margaret was waiting in the kitchen with a warm cup of hot chocolate made just the way Emma liked it.

Henry called a few moments after Emma got to her parents house. Apparently Neal had filled him in on what had happened.

“Are you okay, mom?” he asked on the phone, concern in his young voice.

“Yeah, kid. I’m alright. I wasn’t there when it happened and they were long gone by the time I got back.” The last part she wasn’t 100% confident in but she figured it would help lighten the air a bit.

“I’m coming to grandpa and grandma’s.”

“No, Henry, really, everything’s okay. Just stay with your dad tonight. It’s late and you have school. You can stay here tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Just stay there. I’ll come walk you to school in the morning and pick you up after?” Truthfully she just wanted Henry right next to her at all times but he was 13 now, and that wasn’t really a feasible goal.

“Okay. Goodnight mom, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight kid, love you.”

“Love you too.”

Emma didn’t sleep a wink after talking on the phone with Henry. She just wanted to be in her own bed in her own house. Instead she laid staring face up at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom, awaiting rest that never came.

In the morning when her alarm went off on her phone she immediately silenced it, having been awake the whole time. She just wanted to get her hands on the journal. It was like torture. She shot out of bed, threw on some clothes, and grabbed a pop tart and a coffee before walking to Neal’s to get Henry. They walked to his school in silence, she was honestly just happy to see him and that he had been with his dad the night before. She rustled his hair before hugging him goodbye in front of the school. Promising she would pick him up after.

Walking up to the office she was one of the first to get there. Her father was brewing a pot of coffee and Graham was dismissing the others for the day who had spent the night examining Emma’s home.

“Morning, Em. Good news for you.” Graham greeted her.

“What’s up?” she asked, setting her bag down on her desk. Gearing up for a long day on little sleep.

“Netflix wants to do a documentary on the case.”

“Get the fuck out of here. No.” She was too tired and too stressed to even entertain the idea of a camera crew being here.

“I know. It’s ridiculous… but you have to admit a little impressive. This small town generating quite the following that it is.”

“Yeah. I get it. Amazing.” She rolled her eyes. At least he wasn’t on board with the ridiculous idea. Perhaps one day when Emma is able to give the Jones’ some answers on what happened to their parents, then Netflix could make their little movie.

“One steaming hot cup of black coffee…” David strolled up and handed the mug to Emma, who had just finished her first cup. Thankful that her father was so in tune with her.

“Thanks dad. Are we ready to take a look at this thing?” Emma asked, anxious to get her eyes on the journal.

“Just about. We’ll be in room 3, it’ll be quiet in there. Copies have been made for each of us. The recipe book itself was sent to the lab.” Graham waved a manilla folder, that Emma assumed contained their copies and began to walk toward the door the led to the space they would be in.

Emma, David, and Graham entered the small room where just yesterday she had interviewed Mrs. Jones’ former therapist. So much had happened since then. And quickly. Emma took her copies of the recipe book pages and spread out on one side of the table. With her pens and highlighters and coffee she was ready to go. The more she thought about the delivery of the book she had wondered if it was an inside job. That someone knew the security had been increased at the police station, someone knew where she lived, someone knew how to drop a clue (many) without so much as a scrap of evidence. But those weren’t the kind of things she could go around suggesting. The department was small, and imagine accusing someone that wasn’t guilty, imagine having to see them each day after that. It wasn’t solid enough yet.

Time went by quickly, as the three read and read until the pages had been scanned thoroughly cover to cover. They took breaks for food or water or whatever they needed but for most of the day they were in there. During one of her breaks, Emma was nursing the symptoms of a headache. She needed medicine and she knew Ruby would have some, so she excused herself to go find her best friend.

“Hey, oh my god how are you?” Ruby whispered when Emma tugged her aside to a secluded hallway to talk.

“I’m fine, just a headache, do you have any Advil?”

“Yeah, in my desk, I’ll grab some for you. I heard about the thing being left at your house that’s wild.” Ruby’s eyes were wide with curiosity. Normally Emma would have called or texted her to fill her in, they told each other most everything. But the entire event had gone down so quickly, Emma hadn’t thought to do it.

“Well, we were at the bar when it happened and Henry was with Neal so he wasn’t home thank God.” Emma still got angry thinking about if her son had been home. “How was the rest of your night?”

“Fine, the woman was really nice. Dorothy. The one who bought us the drinks. We have a date this weekend.”

“That’s amazing!!!” Emma grabbed Ruby’s hands. It was nice to be excited for her. A few seconds ticked past and Ruby’s face went from a smile to a smirk as she looked closely at Emma. Almost reading her.

“So was he good?”

“What?!”

“You know what I mean, don’t you dare play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”

“We just…”

“Fucked in an alley?”

“Ruby.. sh…” Emma grabbed the brunette’s arm. Wary that anyone else around may hear.

“Liam came up to me a few minutes after you both ran out of the bar.” And then Ruby launched into her recount of how she and the other Jones brother had put the pieces together of what was happening between Emma and Killian. “He says he’s never seen Killian like this…”

“Like what?”

“So enamored by someone.”

Emma was a bit taken aback by the choice of words. They were so heavy. But they didn’t feel out of place.

“Let’s just… we can talk later I have to get back in there. I just needed a little break.” Emma collected herself and followed Ruby who gave her a smile before walking to her desk, grabbing the Advil for her friend.

“Is it going well in there? Like have you found anything helpful?” Ruby asked as Emma tossed back the pill with a glass of water.

“Nothing yet. It’s not easy, she doesn’t refer to the guy by name.”

“Did you really think she would?” Ruby’s eyebrow shot up. In fairness, no. It wouldn’t make sense. Emma should have known. She should have known that a woman like Moira Jones, so careful to mask the evidence of her affair, would not have given name to the man she had fallen in love with outside of her marriage.

“Wishful thinking I guess.” Emma shrugged before returning to the room to read through more of the material.

So much time had gone by, and at 3 pm she had to leave. She couldn’t stare anymore at the paper, no more notes could she make in the margins. Nothing of value had presented itself. She would have to let it sink in for the night. She stood from the table, a bit wobbly from sitting so long. David and Graham did the same, no one making any real revelations.

“I’ll walk with you,” David said as she put on her leather jacket to leave the office.

“Mom’s idea?” Emma looked at her dad, who’s face gave away his answer before his mouth did.

“She’s worried, you didn’t sleep last night.”

“She’s too much.”

“Give her a break, Em. You’re her only daughter. It’s like if Henry was in your position.”

And then David’s sound reasoning hit Emma, as it always did. Because the man had a keen sense of always being right.

They walked to the school to grab Henry, who was happy to see Emma. More happy than their usual reunion. She wrapped her arms around him, though they had just seen each other that morning, and didn’t want to let him go.

Henry sat with her all night as she combed through her paper copies of the recipe book. Her mind restless the closer to dark it became. They took over her parents’ dining room table with papers, Henry with his schoolwork, Emma with her files. And kept each other company.

July 27, 1995

Today was better. Brennan and the boys took the boat out because the weather was pleasant. I stayed back, telling them I wasn’t feeling well. The truth of the matter is being on the water isn’t something I enjoy much anymore. I wish I could be there for them, be around my kids but the more I look at them the more they look like Brennan and that frightens me. He frightens me.

The clock in the dining room ticked by as hours passed, Emma reading through page after page. Around 11 pm Henry brought in 2 mugs of tea in hopes that the warm chamomile would urge his mother toward sleep.

October 16, 1995

I ran away for the night. It was exhilarating. I took some time for myself. I felt like I could finally breathe. We stayed in a place I had never heard of. A place no one would ever find us. My own little fairytale. I can’t believe we’ve found each other again. Some things are just meant to be I suppose.

Emma sipped her tea, even as it grew colder the longer it sat. The one thing the journal had done is set a time frame for the affair. It not truly taking hold of Moira’s conscious thoughts until October of 1995. She wondered if this mysterious partner had simply just returned to town or perhaps they had been there the whole time. What changed? And when did they know each other before?

Henry had turned in for the night, the clock reading 1 am. She thought perhaps she should do the same.

“Emma, honey, you need to get some rest.” Mary Margaret put her hands on Emma’s shoulders, but the urging did nothing for Emma. She couldn’t peel herself away.

January 5, 1996

I fear that I might be pregnant. We haven’t been careful lately. I think Brennan may know something. I haven’t touched him in a year. My heart aches because I want to love my husband but he’s a monster. And now that I have tasted the love of another I do not think I could ever got back.

It was 2 am now, and David had joined his daughter at the table. Keeping her company. Alternating between note taking of his own and the daily crossword puzzle.

“What’s a 4 letter word for undergoing rapid combustion?” he said absentmindedly aloud.

“Burn.” Emma replied without looking up.

April 23, 1996

I am made of two incohesive parts. The part of me that wants to see my family succeed and be the people everyone thinks we are. To love being a mother, to grow old with the man I married. Then there is the part the yearns to run. The portion of me that only feels free and accepted when I am without my family, and with the true love of my life.

Emma was alone in the dining room again. The only light being the dimmed chandelier above. She looked around at the light green walls, the banquet filled with photos, the floral curtains, the contents of a home. A place where she grew up loved and her bad finger painting art was always hung on the fridge with pride.

When Moira Jones referenced her family in her writing there was always a ‘but’, always something that kept her from fully embracing that part of her. The roadblock being her husband, the man she once loved. Emma thought of her own parents, who had demonstrated probably one of the most sickeningly loving and healthy marriages of all time. And she thought of Killian, who had never experienced that.

The last entry, the last page of the Recipe book was written two weeks before she was murdered.

September 2, 1997

He breathes new life into me, each time I see him. Every time he steals me away I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if this were all the time. But for now and for a while it’s hidden moments. I love him. I really do. Maybe someday when the boys have moved out and are on their own I can find a way to have my life the way I want. Living this way forever though is a thought I can no longer bear.

At 3 in the morning Emma closed the files and felt herself finally tired enough to sleep. She crawled into the bed in her pink fluffy bedroom of the past. Looking at the stuffed animals that lined the shelves. Her desk that still had a massive desk top computer on it. The cool feeling of the sheets that had come from leaving the windows open. Sleep overtook her body until Friday morning when her mother had to shake her awake after 4 straight hours of semi-pleasant rest.

Emma walked into the office with purpose, knowing what was in store for today. Her father had let her know at the breakfast table that the Jones’ were coming in to hear about the newest development. She stiffened slightly at the thought. The last time she had been with Killian had been… heated. That seemed to be their pattern these days. See each other, tease, kiss, sweat, swoon, come. It was wild and intriguing but uncharacteristic of Emma, and she suspected that is wasn’t the kind of behavior Killian indulged in regularly. At least she hoped not…

“So Wednesday night, we’re assuming, around 11 pm a leather bound recipe book was distributed. It belonged to your mother, her initials are engraved on the front cover.” David was at the front of the room clicking through a slideshow of pictures that had been assembled to show Killian, Liam and Regina what had come up. “The book turned out to be the journal Moira Jones used up until two weeks before she died.”

Graham sat next to Emma, their files of notes on the journal on the table in front of him. He hadn’t made much progress either but he and Emma both agreed the timeline of the thing was relevant to the case. If they could decipher when exactly the affair started, and when they had initially met, the team could narrow down who it was.

Killian was directly across from Emma, as per usual, a delectable form of torture especially now that they had engaged in such intimate behavior… several times. He wore a navy blue suit that hugged him so well. Focus. He’s not that good looking. Alright, well that was a lie. It felt like though she wore jeans and a long sleeve shirt, he could see her underwear. She averted her eyes, twiddling her thumbs, she had told David to give the presentation today citing exhaustion as her reason against doing it herself.

“I don’t understand, didn’t you all enforce stronger security here? More cameras? How did this person drop something at the station again without being caught?” Regina spoke up.

“Because it wasn’t left at the station… it was on Emma’s porch.” The room got quiet. Emma was nervous to look up because she knew who would be staring right at her. She did anyway, and caught the deep blue pools of concern from the man across from her.

“This was at your house?” Killian’s words coming out before he realized there were other people in the room, who didn’t exactly know how close he and Emma had become. “Are you still staying there? Surely that can’t be safe.”

Her eyes widened the more he talked, trying to signal to him that he should fucking cool it before everyone picked up on the fact that he was speaking directly to her on a more personal level than was appropriate. She kicked his shin underneath the table and he winced but not enough that anyone caught it.

“We’ve had a team scour the place for anything but not so much as a tire mark was left behind. So whoever did it is on foot or just local.” Graham stood taking over the slide show. The focus of the room shifting to him as he discussed the installation of security cameras at Emma’s as well as more public street corners.

But Killian’s attention remained on Emma. His face looking pained as he completely ignored the rest of the meeting as did she.

Emma was alone for the night. Henry was with Neal for the next few days. Until she was sure it would be okay for him to be there again. Two days away from her home was long enough. The coward dropping hints at her doorstep couldn’t keep her away forever.

Ever since the recipe book had been deposited on her porch, Emma’s life had been a non-stop whirlwind of insanity. She had slept little, eaten even less, and spent most of her time trying to capitalize on the development before it was too late. All the while her home, the haven she had created in which she raised her son, was blocked off with yellow caution tape and swarmed with investigators.

When they finally gave her to go ahead to return to her house Friday evening after work, she did so without hesitation. No one would chase her out of it. No matter how weird she felt about walking up the steps this time to find that the porch looked normal. All was in place, the only remnants of the other night was a piece of tape left on the railing that had been ripped away. She would deal with it later. Right now all she wanted was to go for a run, take a bubble bath, and climb into her own bed.

Her mind was restless as she walked through the house. Wondering if the person who had left the note had peaked inside, seen the contents of her life. A shiver went down her spine, and not in a good way. The whole thing was violating. So she went to her room, changed into leggings and a tank top, and put in her headphones as she set out for a run.

The evening was crisp for May. But she didn’t mind. It kept her cool. The loud music she played in her ears a way to block out her wandering mind as much as it possibly could. She reached for the volume button and turned them up just a bit more as she rounded a bend to where the park was. The trees were lush and green after all of the rain in April. The smell of freshly mowed grass filled her nostrils. She closed her eyes and slowed for a moment. Inhale, exhale, she urged herself. In her experience, there wasn’t anything a few minutes of measured breathing wouldn’t fix. Until today.

A few people were scattered at the park, walking along the circular path surrounding the pond. Young families, kids, an elderly couple strolling hand in hand. She ran past all of them to take the route through the woods that would lead back to her house. Her legs begged her to slow as she maintained an all out sprint the entire way. The rush of the wind on her face, the steady increase of her breath, the pounding of her heart. Her shoes hit the dirt path one after the other, carrying her off into an abyss for just a moment. The runner’s high.

It quickly wore off when she stopped in front of her house. The same place she had lived for so long but that appeared so different to her now. She wished Henry was on the porch to greet her, or that her mother and father were there helping with dinner. She wished Ruby was walking out of the door to hand her a glass of Merlot and spend the Friday night talking about nothing.

She wished that someone was there to wrap her in their arms as she felt herself collapse to her knees on the walkway. Her arms cradling her chest as she tried to calm herself. Her body was so overstimulated. Her mind so active. All she wanted was peace but she was having trouble getting it. Her head hit the concrete and she rested there for a while. Catching herself, breathing, calming herself, untying the knots that had formed within her.

“This is your fucking house,” she muttered to herself. And it was enough to propel her inside. Enough to make her feel like she could unwind a bit. Enough to allow her a relaxing bubble bath for one. But it was not enough to discourage her from texting back when she got a message from a certain tall, dark Englishman, who had come into her train of thought more than once as she soaked within the bubbles of her bath.

Killian: Are you at your house?

Emma: Yeah, what’s up?

Killian: Mind if I stop by? I have something of a favor to ask.

He had never been here before, she would have to give him the address. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but she felt like it was. The idea of him coming here. What could he possibly have to ask her? Probably something flirty and obscene, perhaps she should stay in the tub until he arrived. Allow him to take her right where she sat. Emma shuddered. The man had definitely awakened something within her. Eventually she texted him her address and rose from the bathwater to get dressed. As much as she was attracted to him in such a primal way, today was not a day where she was feeling utterly bold or sexual. Their last encounters serving as a precedent for their behavior around each other made her a bit nervous for his arrival.

Emma took a few moments to dress herself, settling for sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. Her body still a bit sore from her earlier run. She took her hair down from the high messy bun it had been in and let the blonde curls fall over her shoulders. It was a bit unruly from the steam of the bath but she ran her fingers through making it look semi-presentable. When the doorbell rang she jumped a bit, never having been a jumpy person she attributed it to the goings on of the past few days and padded down the stairs.

As she rounded the bend from the kitchen to the foyer she could see the outline of her visitor. Rolling her eyes she unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door to find a very tall and devastatingly handsome man on her front porch. And next to him, his loyal steed.

“Good evening, m’lady,” Killian joked. She took in the site of him on her porch. Dressed down from his earlier appearance. Simple jeans and a flannel, not unlike the day she had first met Princess, his dog. Who was also next to him on her porch, sitting patiently with her eyes on the large brown paper bag in her owner’s hand. “We thought you might like some company.”

“How do you know I’m alone?” she asked, maybe a bit colder than she would have liked to come off.

“Are you not?” His eyebrow went up. Of course he knew she would be alone, because he was alone.

“Well, since I am, you can come in I suppose.”

“How kind of you to offer, Miss Nolan. And here I thought bearing grilled cheese and onion rings would be enough to grant me entrance to your abode.” He lifted the bag and waved it closer to her eye level. She could smell the grease scent coming through and pretended the fluttering in her stomach was from the thought of her favorite meal, not from something else.

She rolled her eyes at him before swinging the door all the way open so he and his dog could walk through. Here he was, she thought, in her home. He didn’t look all that out of place. The general regality of his demeanor made him fit with the grandeur of the old victorian home’s entryway.

“Lovely place you have here,” he surveyed the surroundings, probably comparing them to whatever palace he currently resided in in London.

“Well, it isn’t quite the penthouse suite but it suits me just fine,” she teased. “Here let me take that, I’ll get us some plates.” She grabbed the paper bag from his hand and did not miss the shock wave that went through her when their fingertips touched. She let them linger just a bit too long before retracting and making her way to the kitchen.

Emma took two plates from her cabinet and began preparing the meals. He had gotten her favorite food and one for himself as well. The oil from the sandwich coating her fingers as she removed them from their plastic takeout containers. She licked her fingers, savoring the taste, and trying not to think too hard about Killian making such a thoughtful gesture. Also trying to not think about how domestic of a scene this was.

“So is this the favor you came to ask me? Keep you and your dog occupied on a Friday night?” she walked over to the kitchen table where she set the plates down. Princess had been freed from her leash and was now waiting by the food Emma had placed on the table.

“Believe it or not, no,” he seated himself at one of the wooden chairs. “It seems I will be going to New York for a few days, and I need someone to watch the dog.” His hand went up to scratch behind his ear as he said it. The nervous quirk.

She sat down across from him. Taking in the image of him sitting in her kitchen, eating a grilled cheese sandwich.“You need me to dog sit?”

“I thought perhaps you two could keep each other company.” He took a bite of the grilled cheese and swallowed before speaking again. “She’s not much of a ferocious guard dog but she’ll let you know if someone is outside who isn’t supposed to be there.”

Now she understood.

“Killian, I don’t need your protection in my own home.”

“Not mine, love. My dog’s.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his lap, seemingly immovable on the issue. “And I know you don’t need it but I wanted to offer.”

“I’ll watch Princess. But only as a favor to her, not to you.” The earnestness of his offer getting to her.

“Tell yourself whatever you must, Emma.” Though he had experienced this small victory, Emma knew she wouldn’t mind having the dog around. A quiet kind of company that would bark if anything was a miss. It would be a bit of a comfort at least.

“Why are you going to New York anyway?”

“I’m the keynote speaker at a conference at Columbia’s business school.”

“Wow… Aren’t you fancy?” she mocked. Sometimes when he was laid back like this she forgot just how successful he had been. And continued to be. Even though he was far from his territory and dealing with an immense amount of inner turmoil about his parents’ murder.

“Hardly.” He finished his sandwich and wiped his hands on a napkin. His eyes had left hers and she missed them. “It’s a standing engagement I have with the university... It’s my father’s alma mater.”

They had both finished their meals now, and as she searched his face there was a sadness there at the mention of his father. Without thinking too much more about it Emma reached across the table and grabbed his hand. His eyes shot to the place where their skin now touched. A chaste motion but nevertheless, electric. Then his eyes went back to her and she offered a light smile.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” she asked. His face softened at her suggestion.

“Sure,” he smiled back at her.

Emma got up from the table and Killian cleared off their plates, loading them into the dishwasher. She told him to take the dog and that she would bring the wine into the living room. As she poured the thick, red Merlot from the bottle she thought of the turn her day had taken. How out of place she had felt in her home just an hour ago. But now she was the slightest bit more at ease. It didn’t stop her from peeking out windows and listening for any out of place noises though.

When she found Killian he was standing before the fireplace in her living room looking at the pictures on the mantle.

“Is this your boy?” he asked holding up a silver antique frame with Henry’s most recent school picture on display.

“Yeah, that’s Henry.” She set the mugs on the coffee table. “He’s the greatest.”

Killian smiled and looked down at his feet before putting the frame back in its place. “And you have been raising him on your own since you were eighteen?” He continued to look at the trinkets that littered the mantle. Paraphernalia from different estate sales and antique shops. The whole idea of living in Emma’s little pseudo-victorian home was for it to be true to its era.

“Not entirely on my own. Neal and I co-parent a lot. That’s where Henry is tonight… and where he has been a lot since the book was left here.”

“It’s very impressive… that you’re able to do that. Most aren’t.” Killian took one glass of wine from Emma’s hand and stood facing her.

“I’ve had a lot of help. I lived with my parents until I graduated high school. Henry and I shared a tiny loft bedroom.” She smiled remembering how hectic that time of her life was. She was just barely a high school senior with a newborn in a town where gossip traveled faster than wind. Trying to squeeze a car seat and a stroller into her little yellow bug.

“Can’t imagine the town folk were too forgiving?” Killian’s eyebrow shot up as he made the remark. There was something else behind his words though. Perhaps he himself was remembering the way that the town had been so unforgiving to him during such a manic time in his life.

She shook her head, no, and took a sip of the wine. Killian’s reputation about Storybrooke wasn’t great even before the murder of his parents. Emma remembered right after the news broke it took very little time for the town to point fingers at Killian, or his brother. No wonder he left the country.

“Was it lonely here for you? Before you moved I mean.” Immediately after she asked it she worried the question was too personal. But instead of ignoring the question he moved to sit on one of the plush green couches, next to the spot where his dog had made herself right at home. Lounging on her belly as if she had every right to be there. His hand settled on Princess’s back.

“Storybrooke was always rather lonely for me.” He sipped from his glass, eyes focused on something ahead of him. “I did not keep much company even before my parents’ death.”

This much Emma knew to be true. He had always maintained an air of mystery. She would see Killian here or there in social situations but he never seemed to be participating in anything. She never saw him joining the other older boys for keg stands or going to the Homecoming dances. He always seemed above it all.

“I know what you mean,” she smiled as his eyes met hers again. “When I got pregnant this town became isolating for me.” She opted to sit on the couch, separated from him by the presence of his sleeping dog, similar to the first night she had gone to his place.

“Imagine if we had kept each other company during those times. The teen mother and town black sheep going to Granny’s for a milkshake.

She had to let out a slight laugh at the thought. The two of them milling about the small town together stirring up controversy. Neal had been around but he wasn’t the one strapped with a ten pound lump to his belly. Everyone had definitely been easier on him than her. She felt a small pang in her heart almost wishing she had had someone during that time of her life who had felt as alone and talked about as she had.

When she looked in his eyes she could tell he was thinking the same. The laughing lulled to a comfortable silence between the two.

“You truly are braver than I for staying here. Building a life instead of running away,” Killian continued.

“Trust me I could not have done any of this without my par-,” she stopped herself before she finished the word. Of course he left. Why in the world would he have stayed?

“It’s alright, love, it’s been quite a while they’ve been gone.” He paused, probably contemplating whether or not to get into it. “It’s hard because there are no answers. A lot of the times when you lose someone there are these comforting little sayings that can get you along… ‘they’re in a better place now’ or ‘at least they aren’t suffering anymore’ but that doesn’t entirely apply here. I don’t even know who killed them.”

“She loved you very much, Killian…” Emma didn’t know if he would be angered if she mentioned his mother or her journal but she pressed on anyway. “I read her thoughts, she always thought of you and Liam.”

“I know you probably think she isn’t a good person for stepping out on my father, Emma, but she really was. She was just… unhappy.”

“Do you ever worry we won’t find out what happened to them?” Another bold question, Emma chose to blame it on the wine she had been nursing. Giving her the confidence to pry a bit further into his head.

“No.” He said with confidence. “No I don’t doubt you’ll figure it out.”

“How can you be so sure?” she wondered. His blind confidence in her abilities had been something he was steadfast in almost the entire time he had been back.

“I happen to believe the case is in very capable hands,” he looked at her, his eyes honest with admiration. Her heart began beating just a little bit faster. “You aren’t really someone who gives up what they want so easily, love.”

She looked at him wondering how he could be so certain of her. Trying to pull together a plausible string of events that could make him feel the way he claimed to feel right now.

“Do you happen to remember being at one of my family’s Christmas parties years ago, Emma?” he asked. She shook her head yes but was unsure of where he was going with this. “I wasn’t any older than perhaps 6 or 7 at the time. And there was a group of boys playing with a pirate ship playhouse I had gotten that year.”

The memory began to slip back into her mind. The pink blush creeping up her neck. Something she had not thought about, really ever. The only part of the Christmas party so clear in her head being the adult conversation she had heard during the game of hide and seek.

“You and another girl had wanted to play, tiny little thing you were, but still… stubborn. And one of the boys said that girls couldn’t be pirates.” He looked down at his hands and near empty glass of wine, almost bashful. “And you were having absolutely none of it. You berated him for not letting you into the playhouse, stood up for yourself and the other girl.”

“Jesus…” she looked down, a bit embarrassed that of all things he thought of that moment. “I never was very dainty. I can’t believe you remember that.”

“The night I returned the Storybrooke, when I saw you in the bar I hadn’t made the connection. I was far too drunk and a bit of an ass..”

“A bit?” She smiled.

“But the next day when I came to the police station and I saw you, and remembered your father… that was the first thing that came to my mind.”

There was no way her face wasn’t entirely red as he shared the story. The silence leaving room to notice just how close they were to each other on the couch despite the dog between them.

Hours had gone by since he had first come over. The whole of the thing flowing so unexpectedly. They finished their wine and had another glass but that was all. Simply occupied enough by each other’s presence. They talked and joked, sharing meaningless stories. For a while they played a game of Trouble that Emma had lying around when she realized she lacked a deck of cards. Killian had never played, and the entirety of the game was amusing to Emma.

“Emma this game requires absolutely no skill…” he was flustered, after their first round when he had learned to play. Emma laughed because she was winning… again.

“That’s the fun, there’s no real strategy.” She hit the plastic bubble top dice spinner for her turn and moved the green pegs around to win once again.

“Bloody hell.” His head fell into his hands, upset by another devastating loss. Despite his poor loser mentality Emma couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled so much.

After the game they took the dog outside for her to stretch her legs and move. It also gave Princess the opportunity to sniff for anything that alarmed her. She didn’t come up with anything but the walk was still nice despite the late hour.

When they came back inside Princess claimed an armchair by the window as Killian and Emma resumed their spots on the couch. And unknowingly they had gravitated closer and closer. Though no touching ever occurred. She had sensed when he had come to visit her tonight that he wasn’t looking for another of their heated encounters against a desk, or up against a brick wall in an alley, or handcuffed to a wrought iron railing. No, he didn’t come here looking for any of that. He just wanted company.

They talked for a while, discussing their differences. How he loved to cook and she couldn’t even toast a pop tart. How he knew several languages fluently and she knew none. And then too their similarities. How they both loved old black and white movies, how they had both been exceptionally good at English class in school but opted for careers in other things. How both of them had only been in one serious relationship before.

“After my parents’ death I threw myself into my schooling. It was important that I continue my education. I worked hard and forgot about youth, as the whole experience had been lost on me anyway… it’s hard to want a companion when you’ve never quite seen a good example of a healthy marriage.” He was opening up to her, and she with him. As the time ticked away and the natural flow of conversation led to the more personal corners of their brains. “That was until I met Grace. She, in short, changed everything for me.”

Emma looked at the man across from her. He looked so vulnerable at the moment. What appeared to be a bit of tears forming behind his eyes but he never let them slip as he spoke of his lost love. He told his tale of lust at first site, falling irrevocably in love with the woman who would ultimately leave him broken yet again.

“The night she left our flat she screamed at me and threw a lamp…” the sadness still there as he recalled the memory. “I wasn’t around much, I traveled for work constantly. I was caught up in making money, promotion after promotion didn’t matter to her. She wanted no part of it… no part of me.”

Emma knew the feeling well. When she and Neal had ended their relationship it was painful. Soul crushingly painful, because you never think it will happen. There was a time Emma had thought she would marry Neal, and a time Killian had thought he would marry Grace. But neither of those things happened.

“Neal and I were together for most of high school, off and on, we were a bit out of control then. And at first, everything was exciting. The feeling of being young and in love, like nothing can touch you. But then I got pregnant, I was only 18, and clueless. We tried to stay together, we really did but we wore each other down. There wasn’t a thing we didn’t argue about.” She thought back to fighting with him at all hours of the night, between feedings and bouts of exhaustion. If the baby wasn’t screaming she and Neal were. “We knew that if we didn’t end our relationship we would get to a point where we wouldn’t be able to be in the same room.”

Killian reached out his hand to brush a strand of curly blond hair off her face. She leaned her cheek into his hand, relishing in his tender touch. It was electric and quite different from their encounter the other night. The flame that existed between them more tame today, but it still burned.

They were so close and she could feel the held breath on either of their lips. The only sound around them was the light tick of the grandfather clock, the only thing keeping her on the ground. God he smelled good.

“You and I, we understand each other.” She said finally.

“Aye, it seems we do.” He smiled as his hand fell from her cheek to her shoulder to her hand that rested on the back of the couch. It was such a stark contrast to the past few times they had been alone together. But she didn’t mind. At least not tonight, when she had been feeling so uncomfortable in her home earlier. That had seemed to slip away though, and Killian appeared to be keenly aware to not push her.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, love, but as it turns out I have a 7 am flight to New York and it is now…” he checked the watch on his wrist, the one attached to the hand that had held hers. She missed the brief touch the instant it was gone, but she would never say that. “... 4 in the morning.”

“Shit…” she stood before she could think anymore about grabbing his hand again. “You should go… I mean… for your flight, not because I want… fuck.”

He stood to meet her gaze, amused at how frazzled she had gotten so quickly. “Walk me out?” He asked, his eyebrow going up at the suggestion. Hers doing the same.

The air in the room lightened, both stepping further away from one another. Something like disappointment rang through Emma but she ignored it. She tried to ignore it.

“Of course.” Emma turned and led the way to the front door. Her words in her throat, waiting to come out but he had stopped to pet his dog and say goodbye. She still wasn’t wholly sure about how to care for a dog but from what she had learned of Princess thus far she seemed relatively low maintenance.

“You know, you’re the first guy to come over here that wasn’t some sort of relative… or Neal,” she joked as they walked down the hall.

“Careful, darling. I may do this more often if I feel too welcome,” the smirk that crossed his face was borderline devious but just the right amount of charming for Emma to smile back.

They made their way to the front door in a comfortable silence. Neither truly feeling like they knew what to say. It wasn’t exactly conventional for this type of thing to happen. She didn’t hate having Killian here though. On some weird level he had taken her mind off of things.

“Thank you, Emma, for the lovely company.” They had reached the door and now Emma didn’t know what to do. Was she supposed to hug him? Shove him out the door without another word?

“You aren’t so bad yourself.” Emma couldn’t help it when her eyes went straight to his lips. Her breath caught in her throat thinking of where his lips had last been on her body.

“Goodnight...er morning, love.” Before she knew what was happening he was leaning toward her, closing the distance between them. His lips were soft on hers, almost as if he was asking permission to continue. She met him with equal tenderness. His hand came up to cup her cheek and his other hand found its way around her waist to pull her closer.

She slowly deepened the kiss, wanting to go further but not wanting to ruin the intimacy of this moment. Her own arms found their way around him and she tugged lightly on the hair at the nape of his neck. Too quickly it was over and he was slowly pulling away. His cheeks were flushed a light red and Emma couldn’t bite back her smile.

“Good morning, Killian.” She wanted to do more. Like nothing she had ever felt before she yearned for more. But the way he was staring at her wasn’t the same hungry look he had given her the night at the desk, or the night at the bar, or the time at his hotel. He wouldn’t be crossing that line tonight.

His thumb brushed lightly over her bottom lip eliciting a tingle deep in her belly before turning and exiting through the front door.

“Uhh, Killian,” she called to him when he was halfway down the front steps. He turned, his hair just the barest bit disheveled from her hands, his sleeves rolled up, his jeans hanging divinely. “When will you be back?”

“I return Sunday night,” a wicked smile appeared on his face as if he could read her mind. “Will I see you then?”

“That all depends…” Emma teased. Leaning against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. “Have you had enough of me yet?”

He turned fully around marching across the porch with purpose, a furious glint in his eyes as he approached her. Heat filled Emma as he grabbed the sides of her face kissing her breathless as she leaned against the wooden frame for support. His lips less soft and more urgent as he plundered her mouth. Her hand grasped at the collar of his shirt, grounding her in the moment. If she had been worried that his lack of sexual advances tonight were in anyway indicative of fading interest in her, he proved her wrong with his kiss. His long, slow, passionate movements of his tongue leading her to a level of wanting she didn’t know existed. And all too quickly he had pulled away.

His eyes didn’t meet hers at first, he looked to be contemplating all sorts of things as the fire from their kiss calmed. Though her heart raced with desire, he had a flight to catch. She thought that perhaps if he didn’t that the kiss would not have stopped.

When Killian finally looked up at her, he had cooled his demeanor. Looking every bit the suave, gentleman he so often acted as. His hands fell from her face, reaching for hers that were still on his chest.

A dark laugh from the back of his throat prefaced his words. “Does it feel as though I’ve had enough of you?” He eyed her, carefully, as he rolled his hips to meet hers so she could feel just how hard he was.

“Because I thought I had made myself clear,” he grabbed Emma’s left hand as he continued, pulling it up to his lips to leave one last gentle kiss on the skin of her wrist. She ached, waiting for what he would say next. “Perhaps when I return I’ll have to show you just how far from the truth your question is.”

“I look forward to it, Killian,” she answered coolly. Though her body was anything but. His handsome face twisting into a smile.

“I’ll see you Sunday then, my darling.”

She stilled, the use of the word my that had to this point only occurred in the throes of passion. Her mind racing trying to formulate a response but she couldn’t she was focused too hard on the thought of being his. And as he turned to walk away to his car, that he would get in and ride away, she realized what he had been doing all night.

Killian Jones, true to his word, was taking his time with her.

#captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan fanfiction #cs ff #cs ff au #cs modern au #cs fanfics

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roselukes · 7 years

Text

Second Chances Chapter 14

Previous Chapters

“Luke?” She called as she opened the door. Luke opened his eyes to look at her. He pulled his earbuds out of his ears and out of the port in his phone. He sighed and set his phone on his nightstand.

“Yeah, Mackenzie?”

“I made my choice.” She bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. Luke sighed and looked at her. Her face wasn’t showing emotion. She was trying to keep it together it looked like. He knew her choice. He looked down and tried not to show that he was upset, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“yeah go ahead,” he sighed. He knew she was going to say she couldn’t be with him.

“All I’ve ever wanted was you, and I’m not ready to give that up.” Luke’s head snapped up.

“You’re giving me another chance?” He couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“I’m giving you another chance.” She smiled softly and Luke jumped off his bed, running over to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up, hugging her tightly. She giggled and wrapped her legs around his waist to hold herself up. He pressed his lips to hers and kicked his door closed. She giggled against his lips and ran her fingers through his messy hair. He laid her down on his bed and kissed her neck.

“I love you so much.” Luke grinned and looked up at her, planting kisses all over her face.

“I love you, too, Luke.” She laughed, pulling him up and kissed him deeply. He gripped the hem of her tanktop and ripped the fabric. Mackenzie gasped and looked at Luke. “Did you just rip my tanktop?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I just need it off. I need you. I could come every time you tell me you love me.” He breathed deeply and threw the shredded material to the floor. He pulled his own shirt off quickly and brought his lips back to Mackenzie’s. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra, adding it to the clothes on the floor. “We need to celebrate, baby girl,” he whispered huskily in her ear. She groaned and pushed Luke’s sweatpants down, giggling when she noticed he wasn’t wearing boxers.

“Commando? Really?” She laughed.

“Shut up, it’s comfortable.” He huffed and pulled her sweatpants down. “You’re trying to cockblock me by wearing sweats and spandex. That’s not fair.”

“Would you rather have me walk around in my underwear for all of our friends to see?” She raised an eyebrow and looked at Luke.

“Fuck, no.” He shook his head and pulled her spandex down. “That’s for my eyes only.” He smirked and pulled her thong down, adding it as the final piece to the mountain of clothes on the floor. He rubbed his fingers between her folds, teasing her entrance.

“Luke, no teasing.” She moaned, bucking her hips. “I need you now.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, baby girl.” He smirked and slowly thrusted into her. “God, I’ll never get enough of your pretty pussy.” He groaned and thrusted faster. She moaned and arched her back.

“More, Luke. Fuck.” She moaned, looking up at him. Luke slid his hands in hers, lacing their fingers against the sheets. He held her hands up by her head and thrusted deeper. “Oh, God, fuck.” She moaned louder, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Open your eyes, princess.” Luke smirked, thrusting slowly but deeply. She forced her eyes open and looked up at Luke. “There’s my pretty baby.” He grinned and thrusted slowly. Sex with Luke had never been like this for Mackenzie before. He was usually fast and rough, but tonight he was gentle and passionate. This wasn’t just sex, this was making love. She moaned his name and squeezed his hands gently.

“So close, Luke.” She moaned, looking into his eyes. He locked his eyes on hers and slowly pulled his hand from hers, bringing it down to her clit. He rubbed slow circle against her and she moaned loudly. He smirked and jerked his hips, hitting her spot head on. She widened her eyes and moaned loud. “Right there, Luke.” She arched her back and moaned. Luke smirked and thrusts faster, hitting her spot every time. His thumb quickened against her clit, and she let herself lose all control. Her thighs shook and she clenched around Luke as she released around him.

“Jesus, fuck.” Luke groaned and stilled inside her, releasing with her. He rubbed her clit to ride her through her high.

“I love you, Luke.” Mackenzie mumbled, too wrecked to speak up.

“I love you, too, Mac.” Luke smiled, kissing her forehead, snuggling in beside her, pulling a blanket over their naked bodies. Planting a kiss on her forehead as he wrapped his arms around her naked body, pulling her in as close as possible

“You’re the only person to call me Mac, besides my father.” She looked up at him. His expression softened when she mentioned her father. Brett Montgomery was a kindhearted man. He never had anything bad to say about anyone, not even Luke. Brett had been diagnosed with terminal cancer when Luke was still with Mackenzie. He passed away a year after Luke left. Luke had received an invitation to the funeral, but he knew he couldn’t go for fear of seeing Mackenzie and ruining his entire plan of keeping her safe. If he saw her, everything would have been ruined, and if he saw her crying, he would feel completely ruined.

“I should have been there for you.” Luke sighed closing his eyes.

“Why didn’t you come?” He knew she was referring to the funeral, but he didn’t know how to tell her that he was too much of a wuss to see her that vulnerable. “I was waiting for you to come, and you never did.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry..” Luke whispered, holding her close. “But, I was there. In your heart, I was there.” Luke rubbed her back. “If I ever can’t be with you, just remember that that’s where I am.” Mackenzie buried her face in Luke’s neck and let her tears fall. Her tears were completely soaking his chest, the memory of her father was too much for her.

“Mackenzie, are you sure this is a good idea? You know how people are with me.” Luke sighed as Mackenzie drove toward her childhood home. “What if your parents think I’m not right for you and they forbid you from seeing me?”

“Luke, my parents are going to love you, because I love you.” Mackenzie smiled and slowed down in front of the small, yellow house.

“I’m so nervous. I can’t do this, Mac.” Luke rambled on as she parked the car. Mackenzie leaned over and pressed her lips to his.

“It’s going to be fine, baby.” She whispered against his lips. She shut the car off and got out, grabbing her purse. Luke got out of the car and looked up at the house.

“This is where you grew up?” He asked, reaching for her hand as they walked up the path to the door. It was a small cozy yellow house in the middle of the street. Luke could see that the house still had tiny little Christmas lights up. The garden beside the path to the house was fully alive with all sorts of flowers and plants. Luke smiled softly at the house as they approached.

“Yup, this is where I spent 18 years before moving to school.” She smiled and pulled the key from her bag, unlocking the door. “Mom, Dad, I’m home.” She called into the silent house.

“Mackenzie, is that you?” Her mom, Georgia, called from the kitchen.

“What other child do you have, Mom?” Mackenzie joked. She closed the door behind her and lead Luke to the kitchen.

“Um, I don’t know maybe a son? I can’t remember do I have another one?” They both laughed at Georgia’s joke. “Oh, this the boyfriend well he’s very handsome.” Georgia winked and smiled, drying her hands on the towel before embracing her daughter.

“Yes, this is Luke.” Mackenzie introduced, pulling away. “Luke, this is my Mom, Georgia.”

“It’s so great to meet you.” Luke smiled as politely as he could and held his hand out to her. She shook his hand gently, eyeing him up and down, smiling at him.

“We’ve heard so much about you.” Georgia smiled softly. “You’re much cuter in person from what Mackenzie has told us.”

“Mom,” Mackenzie groaned, Georgia laughed and smiled at her daughter. “I’m only having fun,” she smiled.

“Where’s Dad?” Mackenzie asked, leaning against the island.

“Watching TV, as always.” Georgia rolled her eyes playfully and turned back to the food she was making. Mackenzie took Luke’s hand and lead him to he family room where her father was sitting on the couch.

“So nice of you to come greet me at the door, Dad.” She joked, sitting down next to him. Luke stood next to the couch awkwardly.

“I knew you’d come in here to see me, so I didn’t waste the energy.” Brett chuckled. He looked up at Luke and frowned slightly. “What are you standing around for, boy? Sit down.” Luke widened his eyes and took a seat next to Mackenzie.

“I’m gonna go help Mom in the kitchen. You two behave yourselves.” Mackenzie giggled and kissed her father’s cheek and then Luke’s before getting up and going back to the kitchen.

“Ever watched boxing before, boy?” Brett asked. Luke shook his head and looked at the TV screen.

“No, sir.” He answered awkwardly.

“I quite enjoy boxing. I wanted to be a boxer when I was younger, but my father would have had my head if he knew.” Brett chuckled. “It’s a real interesting sport, you see. It takes patience, stamina, and determination.”

“Isn’t it just two people punching each other?” Luke asked, watching the men on the screen throw punches.

“It’s so much more than that.” Brett sighed. He went on to explain to Luke how no punch is the same. He went into great detail all of the different swings and techniques. “And then there’s the business aspect. You could make millions on boxing.”

“Millions?” Luke looked at Brett.

“If you run the ring, you’re going to be one of the wealthiest businessmen in America. Even in the smallest rings you could make tons of money.” Brett nodded. “Of course, you’d make more money in New York than you would here in quaint old Ohio.” He shrugged and looked at Luke when the commercials came on. “You know, I have always wanted my Mac to be with a boxer.”

“Why’s that?” Luke asked, glancing toward the kitchen, where he could hear Mackenzie laughing with her mom.

“Because then I know he’d be able to protect her.” Brett looked at Luke and Luke felt something shift in his brain. All of a sudden, he had the urge to learn how to box. He needed to know how to fight better so he would know how to protect Mackenzie.

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#5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos smut #luke hemmings #calum hood #michael clifford #ashton irwin #imagines #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction

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