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seiijohhh · 3 years

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the slow demise [2/?]

summary: He’d found you coated in blood, surrounded by death, and decided then and there, you were perfect. pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!gojo!reader a/n: this has been reposted from my original account @justauthoring - so, if you recognize it, that’s why. im also tagging those who originally requested to be tagged in it, so they know where to find future parts. tags: @thatprofessionalfangirl - @sugarandsoft - @honeyy-honeyy-sweets - @strawberryflavoredjeans - @flowersbloominthedark - @juliajempire - @princess-bumblebee - @sageandberries-png - @yue-caelum - @a–nonymousse - @aryksworld - @godsentkita - @kat-su-ki

part one - part two - part three - part four

“How is there only four first years? Isn’t that too few?”

“Well, have you ever met anyone who can see curses before?”

Pausing in thought, the tip of Itadori’s popsicle remains in his mouth, before he tips it towards Fushiguro; “nope.”

“That just proves how small a minority jujutsu sorcerers are.”

Leaning against the railing beside Itadori, you glance away from him and Megumi, taking a moment to gather your surroundings. Gojo has left waiting here for quite a while, and honestly, you were getting bored.

“Also,” Itadori speaks up, pulling your attention back on him. “Didn’t you say I was the fourth?”

“Their entry was decided a while ago.” Fushiguro explains, nonchalant as ever, “you know what our school is like. Everyone has unique circumstances.”

Leaning towards Itadori with a mischievous grin, you hold your hand up to give the impression of telling a secret but don’t bother to lower your voice. “They were trying to find a replacement for me,” you grin, bright eyed at the dull look Fushiguro sends you.

“You were the one who said you’d never been apart of our school in the first place,” he quirks a brow, “how could we replace you, then?”

Blinking at his quip, you’re mainly surprised he’s able to come up with one.

“Moo,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “No fun.”

“Sorry for the wait.”

Blinking at the new voice, your straighten out at the sight of Gojo waving at the three of you. He makes his way steadily over, before pausing, head tilting in curiosity, lips parting; “oh? Your uniforms made it in time, I see.” Then, his eyes drift to you, meeting your gaze. “Though, I’ve had yours waiting in my closet for a while.”

Glancing down at your uniform, you pull at the jacket, eyeing it curiously. The outfit was the same colour as Gojo’s and Fushiguro’s, as expected, a deep, dark purple. Yours was slightly different then your male counterparts however, and you’d found a pair of tight fitting dress pants, a white button up, and a cropped jacket with a high collar at your door this morning.

“Yeah,” Itadori grins, sending him a thumbs up. “It’s a perfect fit. Though it’s slightly different from Fushiguro’s,” he pulls at the material, “it has a hood, for one.”

“That’s because the uniforms can be customized upon request.”

“Huh? But I never put in any requests.”

With a sigh, you cross your arms over your chest, nudging Itadori lightly; “that’s because he did.” And when he turns to look at you, you shrug. “I didn’t put in a request for mine either. Though, I’m pleasantly surprised that mine came with pants.”

Utterly and entirely too proud of himself, Gojo grins at you brightly, sending you a thumbs up; “I thought you’d appreciate not having a skirt.”

And honestly, you can’t argue with that.

“Whatever, I guess,” Itadori shrugs.

“Be careful,” Fushiguro calls out, “Gojo-sensei has a tendency to do things like that.”

“More importantly,” you speak up, raising your head as you poke your head out. “Why are we meeting up in Harajuku?” Just as you finish speaking, Itadori moves to a stand beside you, pulling your eyes on him briefly before blinking back over at Gojo.

“Because it’s what she asked for.”

“Hey!” Jumping at the sudden pike of excitement in Itadori’s voice, you turn to him as he grins excitedly at you. “Popcorn! I want some!” Without any real warning, he grabs you by the wrist, grip gentle but firm, and pulls you along, whilst you stutter in surprise.

“H-Hey! I never said I wanted some–!”

–

“Um… P-Pardon me?”

It takes you half a second to realize that the older man stood in front of you, is talking to you. His lips are curved into a hopeful, somewhat hesitant smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he regards you. “Are you on the clock right now?”

Your lips part, surprised flooding your features. You take a glance back at Itadori, Fushiguro and embarrassingly enough, Gojo, stood a little ways back from you as they watch on with varying expressions of interests. Itadori just looks curious, maybe even a little lost (and honestly, it’s a little endearing), Fushiguro seems rather annoyed and Gojo? Well, you have no idea.

Despite knowing the man for so many years now, you still can’t really gauge what half of his mischievous looks are about.

“Uh, no, I’m not,” you answer, turning back to the man, before raising your hand with a soft shake of your head. “But I’m not–”

“You see,” he cuts in, plainly ignoring what you’d had to say. So much for being hesitant. “I’m looking for potential models.” You take a quick glance at yourself – what about you currently screams model right now? “This is who I am,” he continues, thrusting a card in your face. “Would you be interested?”

You miss the pair of keen and careful eyes that watch you.

“Sorry,” you bow gently, feeling suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. “I’m not really interested–”

“Oh! Just hear me out–!”

“Hey, you.”

A new voice calls, and your eyes land on a hand that’s latched itself to the man’s shoulders before glancing upwards. You’re surprised to see a girl, your age, in a similar school uniform to your own, instead hers consists of a pencil skirt.

The man turns to her with a startle.

“What about me?”

You blink at her boldness, unable to stop the grin that grows on your face.

“For the modeling gig, dug,” she continues, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m asking what you think about me.”

“Oh, um! I’m in a hurry at the moment!” He offers a small smile, a nod your way, before moving to walk off.

She doesn’t let him off that easily.

Tugging him back by the collar of his jacket, she growls; “don’t run from me! Come out and say it!”

“Please, I’m sorry!”

“Um,” stepping forward, you try to placate the girl in letting the man go, offering a nervous smile. “Maybe you should–”

“Hey!”

Sighing in relief at Gojo’s voice, you move to rush over to him and the boys, falling next to Itadori, and spinning to face the girl with a grin.

“Okay, once again.”

Gojo gestures to the new student, and with ease, she moves to introduce herself. “Kugisaki Nobara,” she introduces herself, hand on her hip. “Be happy, boys. There’s now two girls in your group.”

Head tilting, you let out a laugh at the expressions on Itadori’s and Fushiguro’s faces.

A moment of silence passes, Nobara simply just stares at the three of you, though you notice her eyes are solely on Itadori and Fushiguro.

“I’m Itadori Yuji,” Itadori grins, leaning forward as he gestures to himself. “I’m from Sendai.”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

She stares. Then, huffing: “I always get stuck with unfortunate circumstances.”

“She took one look and sighed,” Itadori deadpans.

“Well,” moving so you’re slightly in front of Itadori, you grin brightly at Nobara. You don’t have many friends, and even less of them are female, so you’re hoping that she won’t have the same reaction towards you. Especially with what happened earlier. “I’m Y/N Gojo, yes, as in Gojo-sensei,” you thumb at Gojo, “but we’re not related by blood, I only took his name–”

“–Hey, how come you didn’t tell me that right away!”

Sticking your hand out, you meet her eyes; “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She stares, and you feel your chest tighten in worry. But then, her eyes are brightening and the brightest (and maybe only) smile you’ve seen on the girl since meeting her curls onto her lips as she eagerly takes your hand. “I’m relieved to not be the only girl!”

And it’s like a weight of your shoulder.

“Hey!” Itadori calls, pouting, “how come you don’t like me!”

“Are we going somewhere?” Fushiguro cuts in, clearly tired of the conversation.

Gojo lets out a mischievous laugh; “we do have all four of you together.” He nods to himself. “Not to mention, two of you are from the countryside. So, of course we’re going on a tour of Tokyo!”

Almost immediately, as if on cue, Nobara, Itadori and Gojo all jump together, bright grins and sparkling eyes as they chant; “Tokyo! Tokyo! Tokyo!” Before, Nobara and Itadori move to stand beside each other, hands clasped with sparkling delight. “We love Tokyo.”

Shoving your hands into your pockets, you watch on with a tilt of your head.

“TDL!” Nobara cries, Itadori latching onto Gojo; “I want to go to TDL!”

“Idiot!” Itadori turns to her, “TDL’s in Chiba! Let’s go to Chinatown, Sensei!”

“Chinatown’s in Yokohama!”

“Yokohama’s part of Tokyo! Don’t you know that? Look at a map!”

Nudging Fushiguro lightly, you turn to whisper to him; “he’s not taking them on a tour, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Fushiguro nods, watching the two with disdain on his face. “Without a doubt.”

“I will now announce our destination,” Gojo calls, silencing Itadori and Nobara almost instantly.

“Roppongi!”

Turning to each other, you swear you actually see stars in their eyes; “Roppongi?!”

“I almost feel bad,” you mumble, unable to tear your eyes away.

“Don’t,” Fushiguro mumbles, “they’re idiots.”

Staring you at the building that looks quite frankly haunted, you bite your lips.

“There’s a curse here.”

“You liar!”

“You were toying with us country folk!”

With an everlasting grin on his face, Gojo adds; “there’s a bit cemetery nearby. The double whammy of that and an abandoned building brought out a curse.”

With a pat on the back of sympathy for Nobara, who continues to grovel in disappointment, clearly pissed off, you listen in as Itadori speaks up – surprisingly, he doesn’t seem all that upset about the whole lying thing anymore.

“So they really do pop up more often around graves?”

“The issues isn’t the cemetery itself,” Fushiguro explains, “it’s the fact that people associate cemeteries with fear.”

“Oh,” his eyes brighten in understanding. “It was the same for schools, too, wasn’t it?”

“Hold up!” Nobara calls, finally straightening out, “he didn’t even know that yet?”

Scratching at your chin, you let out a nervous laugh; “well…”

“He swallowed a special-grade cursed object?!” She all but screeches as you explain, instantly creating a distance between her and Itadori, disgust clear on her facial expression. “Gross! Unbelievable! That’s so unsanitary and disgusting! No way, no way, no way!”

“What?”

“I agree with her.” Fushiguro cuts in.

“Y/L/N!”

You bite your lips as his eyes fall on you, clasping your hands behind your back while you rock on the heels of your feet nervously. “Um…” You start, voice drifting, “it was kinda disgusting.”

“What?!”

“I want to know what all of you are capable of,” Gojo cuts in, hands in his pockets as he regards the abandoned building. “Just think of this as a field test. Nobara, Yuji, you two go exorcise the curse inside that building.”

Brows furrowing, you turn to Gojo. Why was he..?

“Huh?” Itadori mumbles, “but I thought only curses could exorcise curses, right? I can’t use any jujutsu yet.”

Gojo turns to Itadori; “you’re basically half a curse already,” he reminds. “There’s cursed energy flowing throughout your body. Though controlling that energy isn’t something you can learn overnight, so use this.” Your eyes widen at the familiar looking weapon, if you remembered correctly that belonged to a second year. “It’s the cursed tool, Slaughter Demon. It’s a weapon imbued with cursed energy. It’ll work on curses, too.”

Pulling the cover off the weapon, Itadori eyes it gleaning eyes.

“Lame,” Nobara scoffs, pulling your attention on her as she moves towards the building, pulling a pouncing around the belt hoops of her skirt.

Itadori moves to follow her.

“Oh, one more thing,” Gojo calls, “don’t let Sukuna out. If you use him, you’ll get rid of all the curses nearby in a flash, but you’ll also drag everyone around into it.”

“Got it!” Itadori grins, sending Gojo a thumbs up, “I won’t let Sukuna out.”

“Hurry up now!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Go on, now!”

“Man, I finally join the school like you’ve always wanted me to, and you kick me out of my first official mission.”

Letting out a laugh, Gojo sits down beside Fushiguro as you frown down at him. Leaning back, he glances up at you; “sorry,” he grins.

“I still think I should go, though,” you mumble, glancing back in the direction of the building, eyeing it with worry. Biting your lip, you frown; “I mean, Itadori’s still new and everything. And Nobara’s never been in the city…”

There’s an echo of silence, before Fushiguro adds; “I think I’ll go too.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Gojo calls, “either of you. You’re still recovering.”

Huffing, you nudge Fushiguro’s foot lightly, signaling him to scoot over which he does without complain. Falling into seat beside him, your shoulder lightly touches his own, an action that completely misses you, but Fushiguro however does not. And fighting back the faint blush that threatens to grow on his cheeks, Fushiguro distracts himself by turning back to Gojo.

“Y/N’s right,” he mumbles, “someone should keep an eye on them, especially Itadori.”

“True,” Gojo nods, “but the one we’re testing this time is Nobara.”

Complying, you let out a sigh, leaning back on the palms of your hands, tilting your head up to glance at the curse practically oozing from the building.

As you do, you miss the way Fushiguro keeps eyeing you.

“That Yuji…he’s missing a few up here,” he taps his head for emphasis. “He has no hesitation when it comes to killing these things that take the form of living creatures, albeit bizarre-looking ones, to try to kill him. And it’s not like he’s been familiar with curses for a long time, like the both of you.”

You glance at Gojo, meeting his already awaiting gaze.

“They won’t leave me alone!”

“Yes, darling, but… but you’re scaring me… you’re scaring us!”

Shaking your head, a wave of heat rolls off of you, almost pulsating, and it causes those around you to flinch in fear, pushing away from you. You don’t understand, no one will listen to you – they don’t understand. They won’t understand…

You’re not trying to scare them.

“Mama, please, just–”

She holds a hand to you, stopping you from approaching – it feels like your heart might just break.

“Papa,” you turn, swiftly, desperately, but he looks at you with those same eyes. Those same fearful, disgusted eyes and you can feel the tears welling, your sight blurring. “P-Please…” You cry.

“You have to stay away, Y/N. It’s not safe for us.”

“I’m not safe!”

The words leave your voice in a screech, and you hate the way everyone backs away. This is your family, your mother and father, and your older brother and they’re all avoiding you because they’re afraid of you. They won’t listen to reason. It’s not your fault, you’re not trying to scare them – you’re scared…

You’re terrified.

But they don’t care.

“They won’t leave me! They just follow me! I’m not… please, listen to me! Mama, papa, onii-chan!”

It’s useless. They won’t listen.

They’re too scared.

You feel your heart swelling, anger flooding your senses, and the only thing in your head is; they need to understand.

In a second there’s screams. Your eyes snap open to find red, just… red. There’s so much of it, the smell of it floods your senses and makes you feel sick. The monsters that haunt your dreams, that never leave you no matter how hard you try to make them, fly past you in blurs; the red coats them.

The screams never leave your mind.

They never will.

And in the sea of red, amidst your own sobbing, you see a glow of white, and it shines so brightly you think;

that must be my saviour.

The one you’ve been waiting for.

“Yo!”

He pulls his blindfold back, and the sea of blue you see is just so beautiful, your young heart soars.

“So little to be covered in so much blood.”

“–This is a boy who used to live a normal high school life.”

Blinking at the sound of Gojo’s voice, you’re pulled from your thoughts with a startle. Ignoring the pang in your chest and the way it sits uncomfortably heavy, you ignore the sidewise glance Fushiguro sends you, placing your focus back on what Gojo has to say.

“You’ve both seen plenty of jujutsu sorcerers, even those with talent, give up in frustration because they couldn’t conquer their fear or disgust, haven’t you?”

You glance at Fushiguro, and the answer is obvious.

“So today I want to confirm how crazy she is.”

“But Kugisaki has experience, right? Little late for that now, isn’t it?”

“Curses are born from human minds,” Gojo reminds, “so their strength and numbers grow in proportion to the population. Meaning…”

“Is Nobara aware that curses in Tokyo are on a different level than those in the countryside,” you finish with a nod, leaning forward to eye Gojo. Honestly, despite being an annoyance most of the time, Gojo was good at bringing the best out of his students – so you shouldn’t be all that surprised by his tendency to search for the best either.

Still, it shocks you.

“And when I say ‘level’, I don’t just mean the amount of cursed energy they have,” Gojo continues, “it’s their cunning. Monsters that have gained wisdom often force cruel choices upon you…–”

“It’s just a kid… right?”

“–with the weight of human lives in the balance.”

Gojo’s words hang in the air, and, with a frown, you glance over at Fushiguro, only for his eyes to already be on your own.

Without having to ask, you already know why.

“Megumi–”

You’re cut off by the sound of glass breaking, your eyes snapping up towards the building, only for your eyes to widen at the sight of a curse.

Fushiguro shifts beside you; “I’ll exorcise it.”

“Hold on.” Gojo halts,

And Fushiguro almost looks appalled, stood, waiting, a second later you feel the same – only for spikes to appear through the curses body, it’s eyes bulging, and in the next second for it to simply dissolve.

“Nice,” Gojo grins, and honestly, you have to agree. That was impressive.

“She’s crazy, all right.”

“I live over there! Thanks again!”

You watch the kid Itadori and Nobara had rescued for a moment longer, even as Fushiguro and Gojo move to walk off. Peeking your head around the corner, a fond, soft smile curls onto your lips at the mother who opens the door. Obviously relieved that he sons okay, she doesn’t waste another second quickly wrapping the small boy up in her arms and practically pulling him off his feet.

You can’t remember the last time you’d felt a mother’s love.

“Y/N?”

Blinking at the sound of Fushiguro’s voice, you turn around, eyes wide at having gotten lost in your own thoughts.

“You coming?” Shoving a hand in his pocket, he tilts his head curiously at you.

“Yup!” You call, popping the ‘p’ as you push back your thoughts. Running to catch up to him, you fall in step with him, bumping his shoulder lightly with a grin to which he turns away, a light dust coating his cheeks, causing you to giggle. He was too easy to tease.

“Good Joseph!” Gojo calls to Itadori and Nobara, who decided to wait on some steps. “We made sure the kid got home.”

Almost instantly, the two stand.

“Now, shall we go grab some food?”

“Steak!” Itadori cries.

“Sushi!” Noabara follows.

With two thumbs up, Gojo grins; “leave it all to me! And, you two?”

You glance over at Fushiguro, rolling your eyes when you notice he’s on his phone, not paying attention. Shrugging, you decide to join in on the fun, pumping your first in the air; “you can’t forget about desert!”

“Of course not!”

“Y/N!” Itadori leans towards you, and you blink at the tears in his eyes.

“You finally understand!” Your eyes widen when Nobara follows him, leaning towards you with an almost proud look.

Tilting your head, your lips part; “huh?”

“Last call, Megumi!”

He continues to ignore Gojo.

“He’s just cranky he didn’t get to do anything today,” you whisper to Itadori and Nobara, giggling when he sends you a glare.

“Well,” Gojo says, voice sickly sweet, “let’s go.” And he simply tugs the three of you along, ignoring Fushiguro, who almost immediately perks up when he notices he’s being left behind.

You let out a laugh as he rushes to join.

“Oh,” Nobara calls, “I forgot about my biggest haul today. You,” she sharply points at Itadori, “go fetch my things.”

“Huh? Why should I do it? I thought we were even.”

“We won thanks to my cursed energy. Got a problem with that?”

“What about my raw strength?”

“Your monstrous power from eating weird shit?”

“It’s not just that,” Itadori cries, “right, Fushiguro, Y/N?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” you snort.

He just pouts. “Fushiguro?”

There’s no response.

“Huh? What’s the matter, Fushiguro?”

“Nothing–”

“Y/N said it right,” Gojo laughs, “he’s pouting because he didn’t get to join in.”

Letting out a laugh, you nod; “totally is!”

“Puh, puh,” Nobara giggles, a hand to her mouth, “what a child.”

Megumi lets out a grunt, hiding his face behind his collar as the rest of you collectively let out a laugh. And as you share in the moment, glancing around, you’re starting to forget why you were so adamant on spending life alone.

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nastybuckybarnes · 4 years

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Monsters - Nine

Pairing: Dark!Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a man who just wants to do better. But he can’t stop the monster from coming out every now and then. As a last and hopeless attempt at calming The Winter Soldier, SHIELD finds him something they figured would help. An innocent young woman with not a lot going for her. Or, The Winter Soldiers newest victim.

Warnings: Smut (Somnophilia, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Power Kink, Anal), Language, Injuries, Minor Violence, Trigger Warning: Neglect, Childhood Trauma, mentions of mental illnesses

Word Count: 5.5K

A/n: Nat goes on a rant in this part that is very relevant. If y’all have any questions about her rant, ask and I’ll answer based on my own personal knowledge with the subject matter. I hope you all enjoy!

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!

SORRY IF SOME TAGS ARE FORGOTTEN!!!!

Series Masterlist

You anxiously wait in the pristine office, looking around nervously at everything in the room.

There isn’t a lot, and hardly anything super personal, but it’s something to get your mind off of impending doom.

The door opens and you jump to your feet, staring at the tall man as he walks in.

“Miss (Y/l/n).” He nods. You wring your hands out and gnaw on your bottom lip before speaking, voice small and hoarse.

“H-have you heard from James?” The blond man stops in his tracks. “What do you mean?” You shake your head, sniffling and taking a deep breath.

“H-he hasn’t been home in a few days... I’m worried. The last time he was home the soldier was off the rails... he was really rough... and then he disappeared. I-I know I’m just supposed to be his stress relief but I’ve grown to care for him and if something happened to him I-” Steve places a hand on your shoulder, gently ushering you to sit down. He can’t help but glance to where your skirt rides up as you move.

“It’s okay. I’m sure he’s okay.” Your bottom lip wobbles and Steve’s eyes are drawn to it.

“I-I... what do I do?” He sighs and sits on the edge of his desk, arms crossing over his broad chest.

“First of all, relax. I’ve known Buck my whole life. I’m sure he’s fine. He probably felt bad for hurting you so now he’s trying to figure out how to make amends.” You take a deep breath then nod, clenching your jaw tightly.

“I hope he’s okay.” Steve watches you, proud of how you’ve grown attached to his friend and a little envious of the relationship the two of you have.

“I-I’m sorry for wasting your time, Captain. I was just... I don’t want anything to happen to him is all.” He nods, leaning forward and smiling softly at you.

“Call me Steve. And you haven’t wasted my time.” You smile, eyes darting down to his lips for a moment then back up to his baby blues.

He swallows hard and takes a deep breath.

“C’mon, I’ll take you home.” You hesitate, looking down and shrinking in on yourself.

“What’s wrong?” You shake your head and scoff at yourself. He crouches down in front of you, shouldering his way gently between your legs and for a moment he wonders what it must be like to be between them in a different setting. His eyes find your panties and he licks his lips. The light blue fabric has a small damp spot in the middle and he finds himself fighting the urge to bend you over his desk.

He rests a big hand on your thigh, smoothing over the bare skin for a moment before smiling encouragingly up at you.

“I just... I don’t like being in the house alone. Especially when I don’t know where he is or if he’s safe. I just... it’s scary,” you whimper, closing your eyes tightly.

‘Oh Lord, Buck’s gonna kill me,’ he thinks, knowing that he’s about to take full advantage of your fear.

“You can stay with me until we find him. If you want.” Your eyes snap to his and you nod, fighting a smile.

“Yes, please. If it isn’t too much.” He shakes his head, lips brushing against your thigh for a moment.

“Anything for you, Princess.” The nickname makes you shiver and you can’t help but smile this time. He stands up and takes your hand, pulling you to your feet.

Instead of backing up like you know you should, you stay pressed against him, head back so you can look into his beautiful eyes. His cock twitches in his pants at the innocent look in your eyes and it takes every ounce of self-control he has to step away from you.

The ride to his apartment is filled with tension, and he nearly breaks more times than he’d like to admit.

The final straw, however, is when you’re looking around his bedroom (which he so kindly offered up for you to sleep in) and make yourself comfortable, not giving a rat’s ass that he’s there.

You look over your shoulder at him, making sure he’s still standing in the doorway watching you. And sure enough, he’s there.

With nimble fingers you pull off your top, skirt dropping to the floor a moment later.

“You know,” you begin, climbing onto the bed in just your underwear. “It’s been so lonely since he’s been gone. Could you... stay with me for a while? I’m not used to sleeping on my own.”

He watches you bat your eyelashes at him and mentally curses himself for what he’s about to do. He pulls his shirt off, his jeans following closely after.

“Come here.” It’s not a request, it’s an order, and it sends sparks flying in your belly. You crawl to the edge of the bed and look up at him, holding your breath in anticipation as he steps towards you.

One hand comes up, long fingers gently tracing over your throat before wrapping comfortably around it and giving a light squeeze.

You let out the breath you were holding, eyes falling closed as he leans down and brushes his nose over your neck.

“You miss having a cock in that tight little pussy?” You squeak at his words then nod, whimpering when his other hand trails down your shoulder to your chest.

He pulls back slowly, eyes raking over your figure as if he’s pondering something.

“Lemme help you with that,” he murmurs, crawling onto the bed with you. You move backwards then lie down, heart thumping loudly in your chest as Steve crawls on top of you. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your throat then peppering kisses down down down until he gets to the middle of your bra.

“Gonna let me take this off?” You nod breathlessly, arching your back as he reaches under you. He pulls your bra off easily and his lips are immediately latched around your left nipple. A moan slips past your lips and he grins against your chest, teeth scraping lightly over the sensitive skin.

“S-Steve...” he adores the way you sound. “That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s making you feel this good?”

“Y-You, Steve. Only you... please... I need more....” He nods, pushing himself up to his knees and sitting between your legs.

“Such a pretty colour on you, baby. You look so pretty.” You hum, body alight at his praise, and he chuckles.

“Bucky doesn’t take care of you the way he should, does he?” You shake your head, looking up at him through lust-clouded eyes.

“He doesn’t. Can you? Take care of me the way he should, show me how he should treat me.” He nods, chest puffing out a bit at the challenge.

In an instant, he’s ripped your panties clean off of your body and he looks ready to devour you.

“You want me to eat this pretty pussy? Show you how a real man eats pussy? Yeah? Ask daddy nicely.” You absolutely love this.

“Please daddy. Please eat my pussy.” He leans down and attaches his mouth to your dripping centre.

Your back arches off the bed at the contact and you moan loudly, eyes rolling back into your head as he laps at your folds then focuses his tongue on your clit.

He expertly works the little bundle of nerves, flicking and smoothing his tongue over it in a way that has you seeing stars. Your hands find his hair and you tug him closer to your centre, cursing as he slips two long fingers inside of you.

His mouth continues its assault on your clit while his fingers search for the spot that’ll make you see stars. When he finds it you let out a gasp, thighs clenching around his head as the coil in your belly tightens.

He’s unrelenting, tongue and teeth working your clit while his fingers continue pounding against your g-spot, making you see stars. He has you cumming in no time, gushing and creaming all over his handsome face, and he licks up every last drop.

When your legs stop trembling and you seem to have regained your breath, he climbs up your body to lie beside you, watching with pride as you struggle to open your eyes.

His fingers find your lips and you take them into your mouth, sucking the taste of yourself off of him. He grinds his teeth together and before you can comprehend what’s happening, he’s got you flipped onto your stomach, legs forced apart by his knees while he slides a pillow under your hips.

“You ready for daddy to show you how a real man fucks?” You nod desperately, wiggling your hips back a bit. He chuckles and grabs onto them, stilling your movements. The tip of his cock, all hot and wet and perfect, presses against your slit and you can’t help but moan, arching your back a bit more.

“So desperate for me, aren’t you?” You nod, hands gripping the bed sheets tightly as he slides his cock through your drenched folds, gathering your wetness on his length and coating himself in it.

“Your pussy is so nice and small, bet you’re gonna squeeze me so tight, huh? Gonna have this pretty little cunt wrapped around me so damn tight and you’re just gonna take it, aren’t ya? You’re just gonna take the fuckin’ beating my cock’s gonna give you, huh?” You nod again, desperately wanting him to fuck you.

He pulls back, then slides his cock through your folds again, then pulls back, and slides through again. On the third time, and just when you’re about to snap at him to hurry up, he plunges right into you, successfully silencing any thoughts you had.

A smug smile spreads across his face at the way you gasp and choke, his length throbbing inside of your tight heat.

“B-Big,” you whisper, eyes rolling and toes curling at the feeling of him just sitting inside of you. “Y-you’re so big.” Granted, he’s not quite as thick as Bucky, but he’s longer. He hits every perfect spot inside of you while still making you feel like you’ll fall apart if he moves but die if he stays still.

“Look at that...” he whispers, eyes focused on where the two of you are connected. He slowly pulls out, groaning at the way your cunt clings to his cock. He traces the rim where your pussy is stretched and tight around his cock and you can’t help but shiver.

He grins to himself for a moment, pulling out even more until only the tip remains in you, and then he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt again.

You let out a broken shout of pure ecstasy and he feels himself fill with pride nat the fact that he’s the one getting you to make those sounds.

His hands stay tight on your hips as he pulls back then pushes in, starting up a steady pace and making you feel every inch of his deliciously long cock.

“You my good girl? Huh? You gonna be a good girl for daddy and take every inch of me? Yeah, you’re daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?” You nod dumbly, tears leaking out of your eyes as he fucks you senseless. “I’m daddy's good girl.” He nods then speeds up.

The feeling of his hips slapping into your ass combined with the stretch of his cock in your pussy and his balls brushing your clit has you balancing precariously on the edge, almost ready to fall into your second orgasm.

He leans forward and grabs your hands, pushing them into the mattress with his weight but you absolutely love it. His hips speed up and his lips find your neck, licking and sucking on the tender skin while his cock absolutely abuses your pussy.

“S-Steve! I... can I cum? Please. Please, I’m gonna cum, please!” His teeth find your neck and he bites at your skin, the pain pushing you headfirst into your second fiery orgasm of the night.

“Cum around my cock,” he murmurs, thrusts unrelenting even as you clench around him. He basks in the feeling of you, slowing his thrusts but putting more force behind each one. You’re not sure where your second orgasm ends and third one begins, all you know is that if he keeps this up you’re gonna pass out.

He groans into your neck, muscles trembling as his own climax approaches.

In a matter of moments, he’s spilling his seed deep in you, coating your walls in his cum.

“Gonna fill you up,” he murmurs, pumping his hips while your cunt milks him of everything he has to offer.

“Gonna mark this pussy up so you always know who you really belong to.” You clench around him at his words and he groans, hips slowing before stilling.

He stays on top of you for a moment, just catching his breath, then pulls out and flops onto his back. You’re perfectly content to remain where you are, but he’s having none of that. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you onto his chest, one hand between the two of you to help you sink back down on his cock.

You whimper as his softening cock presses against your tender walls and he can’t help but chuckle.

His hands rub soothing circles on your back and a small part of you wishes that this was the man you were forced to be with.

You squash that thought quickly but cuddle closer to Steve, post-orgasmic bliss taking you to sleep quickly.

You fall asleep on his chest, but he finds himself unable to fall asleep just yet. Not with the way your breasts are pressed to his chest, or the way your cunt clenches and flutters in your sleep.

He spends hours trying to fall asleep, trying to ignore the throbbing in his balls and the way you’re keeping his cock so warm. But he can’t.

Steve Rogers isn’t done with your body just yet.

He carefully rolls the two of you over so that you’re on your back, hovering over you and making sure you’re still asleep. When you show no sign of having regained consciousness, he slowly starts thrusting his cock in and out of you again.

Your body is pliant and lax and he finds himself so entranced by it. He leans back onto his haunches, grabs you by the hips, and hoists you up so that you’re at the perfect level for him to fuck.

He wastes no time in taking what he wants from your body, fucking you hard and fast and borderline brutally, not giving a single fuck if you wake up.

You stay asleep for far longer than he thought you would, what with the way he’s fucking your abused and swollen pussy. The squelching sounds of your soaked cunt is almost enough to drown out your confused groans, but he hears them. Over the pornographic sounds your pussy is making, you’re calling out for Bucky, wondering what’s happening.

And that fact alone only spurs Steve on.

He fucks you even harder, cock hitting every spot inside of you that makes you see stars, and you moan.

“Go back to sleep, Princess. Daddy’s just finishing up here,” he whispers, hands holding your thighs so tightly that he’s definitely leaving bruises.

“m’kay,” you whisper, head cloudy with sleep. He watches the way your eyes fall closed, the way you just succumb to him and allow him to do whatever the hell he wants with your body.

His abs clench and soon enough he’s cumming inside of you again, adding to the white mess inside of your puffy pussy.

He pulls out after a long moment and gets on his stomach between your legs, eyes focused on the way your pussy twitches and gapes, a thin line of white trailing from your pussy to your tighter hole. An idea strikes him and before he knows what’s happening he’s got his middle finger in your pussy, coating it in a mixture of his cum and yours.

Once he deems it wet enough he slowly pushes it into your lower hole, eyes focused on the look of pain that crosses your features. He hums to himself, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he fucks your ass with his middle finger.

“Bucky never take this hole? Huh? Nah, he just sticks to that cunt of yours. So this pretty little ass is all mine.”

He pulls out of your ass to coat his ring finger in the slick oozing from your cunt, then pushes the two fingers back into your ass.

“Would you look at that? A fuckin’ natural.” He fucks you with his fingers, working your ass open slowly until he can fit all four fingers inside.

“You’re gonna take my cock in your ass, Princess. And you’re gonna like it.”

He positions his cock at your ass and uses his fingers to scoop the cum out of your pussy. He covers his length in it then slowly eases into your ass, face scrunching up at just how tight it is.

“Jesus... Fuck, you’re tight,” he rumbles. Your face is contorted with pain and your eyelids flutter for a moment before slowly opening.

He pulls your legs up over his shoulders and grabs both of your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head while he slowly rocks in and out of you.

His hips don’t stop, even as you’re on the verge of waking up. He continues fucking your ass because fuck, you’re so tight and so perfect. You whimper at the pain but he continues, hips speeding up as he feels ready to burst again.

You start squirming beneath him and that's what does it. The fact that he has you pinned and you can do absolutely nothing to free yourself. The absolute power he feels over you. He cums hard, shooting his load into your ass and making a mess that matches that in your pussy.

Only when he’s sure he’s been milked of all the cum in his balls does he pull out, and even then he’s not finished his assault on your sleeping body.

Now that he has you, has an outlet, he intends to make full use of it.

~*~

“You look tired,” Fury notes, eyeing the super-soldier warily.

“Had a long night,” is Steve’s reply.

The blond man pushes open Bucky’s front door, listening carefully and trying to find any evidence that the man has been home in the past 24 hours.

“Buck?” He calls, walking through the house and pausing every so often to listen for any noise.

He almost doesn’t notice it. It’s so faint and so far away that if he was even the slightest bit more distracted he would’ve missed it.

“Someone’s here,” he whispers, feet pulling him to the basement door. The sound of muffled arguments only gets louder the closer he gets.

Fury follows Steve down the stairs, eyebrows raising as the blond jogs over to the cellar latch.

He pulls it open, the sound of the argument ceasing in an instant.

“Buck?”

There’s an audible sigh of relief. “Steve! Nat’s here too. You’ve gotta help us, man.” Steve hurries down the ladder, confusion slapping him in the face as he takes in the scene before him.

Bucky is on the ground clutching at his chest, blood staining his shirt and dribbling from his chin while Natasha is bound and naked beside him, a bar spreading her legs apart.

Steve’s cheeks flush and he quickly glances away from her, tugging his jacket off and covering her body with it while he works to untie her bonds.

When she’s finally free, she wraps herself in his jacket and stumbles away from Bucky, heart racing in her chest.

“What happened?” Steve asks, grabbing her forearms and pulling her into an embrace. She takes deep breaths, trying to compose herself and not lash out before giving a proper explanation.

“He broke her, that’s what happened. He broke her and she finally exploded.” She pushes past him and up the ladder, Fury waiting to help her out of the house.

“What the hell does she mean?” Steve asks his friend, grabbing his arm and hoisting him to his feet.

“She’s gone fuckin’ crazy, man. She kidnapped Nat and she stabbed me! Yeah, I was a little rough with her, but I didn’t think she’d go ape shit!” Steve thinks back to the night he spent with you, trying to piece things together.

You seemed so genuine. And yet you’ve caused so much damage.

“Where is she?” Bucky asks suddenly, his hand pressed tightly to the wound below his ribs.

“She uh... she spent the night at my place. She was still asleep when I left.”

The brunet stares at his friend, different emotions playing through his body. He opens his mouth to speak but a voice that isn’t his comes out, a metal hand reaching up and grabbing Steve by the throat.

The blond grabs his arm, confusion in his eyes as his friend chokes the life out of him.

“Buck!” He rasps, calmly fingers sliding down the metal of his arm. “Buck, stop!”

The brunet shows no sign of even hearing his friend, and Steve quickly finds himself running out of options.

He thrusts his fist out, striking the injury at the brunet’s ribs.

He drops Steve and grabs at his chest, panting hard and shaking his head a few times.

“Fury, get the tactile team here. And have a second team at my house now!”

Steve grabs the brunet, pushing him to the ladder while he’s still disoriented and in pain.

He climbs up the ladder then up the stairs, collapsing on the floor in the kitchen.

“Where is she?” He demands, his voice caught between Bucky and The Soldier.

“We're finding her,” Steve says warily, eyes focused on the man on the ground before him.

“She’s dangerous, Steve, she’s fuckin’ dangerous.”

~*~

“So you really didn’t think to do a thorough background check before you went and grabbed her?” Natasha asks, arms crossed over her chest as she glares at the three men before her.

“I had nothing to do with it! Fury and Steve brought me files of different women and told me to pick one so I did,” Bucky defends, raising his hands from where he sits in front of Steve’s desk.

“You’ve got different problems, problems that we’re gonna discuss later,” She hisses, levelling him with a glare that tells him to shut the fuck up.

“We did a background check. Her mother is supposed to have died years ago, her father too,” Steve defends, “the legal documents were hidden deep. It took a while for Stark to find them.” The redhead raises her eyebrows in confusion.

“So what’s the deal then? What secrets needed to be hidden?”

“Her father commit suicide. He was a paranoid schizophrenic, got removed from the family after the neighbours reported him exhibiting... strange behaviour and teaching his daughter... unethical things. He then escaped the psych ward and jumped out of the twelfth-floor window, died on impact,” Steve says, eyes scanning the document on his computer screen.

“Her mother raised her until she was fifteen, then she got admitted to a psychiatric hospital, official diagnosis: Narcissistic Personality Disorder with recurring episodes of intense psychosis that included visual hallucinations.”

“So craziness runs in the family,” Bucky mumbles, wincing when Nat elbows him in the ribs.

“They’re not crazy. You of all people should have some sympathy and empathy when it comes to mental issues and disorders.” His jaw clenches but he otherwise says nothing.

“So what about (Y/n). What’s her... official diagnosis? If she even has one,” Natasha urges.

Steve’s eyes rake over the screen before finding the part where you really come in. “She was removed from her mother’s care after her teachers noticed patterns of neglect. The official diagnosis she was given was Conduct Disorder, but they thought nothing of it considering her upbringing. She bounced around through group homes and foster families until she turned eighteen, which is when she moved to New York and got her own life.”

Natasha is silent for a moment, mulling over Steve’s words.

“Conduct Disorder is the precursor to Antisocial Personality Disorder, isn’t it?” She asks, eyes flashing to the blond. He nods, having read in-depth about that particular disorder.

“What does that mean?” Bucky asks. Steve sighs and pats his friend on the shoulder. “It’s what, back in our day, we’d call a psychopath. Or a sociopath. Those aren’t the politically correct terms anymore, but that’s pretty much what she is.”

Bucky nods thoughtfully, thinking over the words for a moment before speaking. “That explains the stabbing.”

Natasha grabs Bucky by the collar, her eyes full of fiery anger.

“No, James! She’s had this disorder her whole life and yet she has not one smidge of a criminal record! Her disorder isn’t what made her lash out and do that terrible shit! You are! You’re the one who beat her and broke her! You destroyed her, mentally and physically! You don’t get to shove off what you’ve done onto a disorder that she had under control!”

She’s panting, her chest heaving as she finally gives him a piece of her mind.

“You fucking destroyed that girl, James. This is her mind’s way of protecting what little sanity she has left. She isn’t a bad person because of her disorder. If I remember correctly, she was nice, she was liked by people, and she was a functioning member of society. So don’t you dare go and blame your actions on her disorder because I can guarantee that if you hadn’t fucked her up so bad, she wouldn’t have lashed out the way she did!”

The two other men are silent, Steve trying to figure out what Bucky could’ve done that was so bad while Bucky hangs his head in shame.

“I know that what I did was wrong, but I couldn’t... I couldn’t stop myself.”

Nat snorts, “bullshit. I don’t care if it ‘wasn’t you’. You still started treating her badly. Fuck, you agreed to this whole thing in the first place. You caused this, James.”

“What happened?” Steve finally asks.

“What happened is that your war buddy over here decided to see how much torture it takes to break a person. Turns out it’s a lot less than you’d think. Fucker took a video of it and everything.” She turns to Bucky with her arms crossed over her chest. “Show him the video.” He shakes his head, hand instinctively going to his phone.

“Show him the fucking video, James. Show him what you did, why she is the way she is. Do it.” He grinds his teeth together, trying not to lash out at her.

“See? He knows that what he did is too fucked up to even show you.”

“I agree that things haven’t gone the way we thought they would, but that’s a fact we need to accept,” a new voice chimes in from the doorway. Natasha glares at the man as he walks in.

“How could even suggest something like this?” She demands. Fury shrugs, lips pursed for a moment.

“There are certain people in this world... whose roles are expendable. They don’t serve one significant purpose. So I gave her a purpose.” She shakes her head. “You don’t get to decide the importance of people’s lives. That girl was doing just fine, and then you decide to ruin her fucking life.”

“There was no way we could’ve known things would’ve gone this way.” He sounds so unbothered by this and that only pisses Natasha off more.

“No, but there was a chance you could’ve realized that if he needs an outlet so bad, maybe he should be the one we’re focusing on! If the soldier is that uncontrollable, maybe we shouldn’t have him here with us! Maybe we should lock him up somewhere where no one will find him if that’s how dangerous he is.” She points aggressively at Bucky

He’s out of his chair in an instant, chest heaving as he glares at her.

“I care about her! I value her and she’s important to me! To both of us! I’m not fucking happy with what I did to her but we made it work! We were happy! We were functioning perfectly!”

“Then why the hell did you sleep with me?!” Natasha counters, stepping forwards so she’s toe-to-toe with the assassin.

“If you were so fucking happy playing house with your little sex toy, why did you feel the need to start something with me?! Not only were you dishonest and deceitful with me, but you were fucking lying to her too! You lied to us both! You fucking deceived us both! If you cared about either one of us, you would’ve told us both what was happening from the start!” She’s shouting herself hoarse but she doesn’t care. She hopes everyone in the building can hear her.

“It’s not that simple! I couldn’t just confess to you what my coping method was! You’d never understand! And she was just starting to trust me again, to be good for me. I didn’t want to lose that.”

She takes a deep breath and shakes her head, scoffing slightly at the absolute idiocy of the man before her.

“James, you don’t understand. That woman doesn’t trust you. She’s terrified of you. She’s been mistreated her whole life and now you come on the scene and you fuck her up even more. She’s realizing that giving in to your sick fetishes and desires is what makes you give her attention, and she’s gone her whole fucking life without having attention so she’s gonna do everything in her power to keep it.” She takes a deep breath and shakes her head, wrapping her arms around her torso.

“That woman doesn’t love you. She’s afraid of you. Afraid of the monster she knows you are.” She turns around and shoulders past Fury on her way out.

“You guys have fucked up. We’re supposed to be the good guys. The good guys don’t fuck people up the way you have,” she calls over her shoulder before storming off.

The three men are all silent before Steve clears his throat.

“So what are we going to do about her? We can’t exactly have her running around telling everyone what happened.” Fury nods, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll try talking to her, see if we can work something out,” Bucky suddenly says while avoiding the eyes of the men around him. He slips his phone into his breast pocket and makes for the door, stopping when Steve speaks.

“She stabbed you, Buck. Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asks, his hand grabbing Bucky’s shoulder. The brunet nods with a sigh. “She wanted me to pick her over Nat. And maybe that’s what I should do. For the time being anyway. Just until we figure out what to really do with her.” Steve nods, his hand patting his friend on the chest before allowing him to leave.

Bucky walks out without another word.

“I trust that you’ll be able to make the difficult decision, right Captain?” Fury suddenly asks, eyes going pointedly to the phone in Steve’s hand. Steve holds it tighter, clearing his throat after a moment.

“Yes sir.”

“Remember when you sacrificed your life to save the lives of thousands of people?” Steve nods warily, trying to figure out where Fury’s going with this.

“Sometimes, we need to sacrifice one to save the many,” Steve replies, realizing what Fury is implying.

“Make the right choice, Rogers. That’s all I’m saying. The right choice for everyone.” He leaves the room without another word and Steve sighs, closing the door then plopping down at his desk and unlocking Bucky’s phone.

He scrolls through the camera roll until he finds the video, beyond curious as to what Natasha was talking about.

His eyes are focused on the video, watching the way Bucky uses your body and degrades you. When the camera pans up to your tear-stained face, he groans, blood rushing to his cock.

It’s wrong. It’s so fucking wrong to find something like this so very arousing and so satisfying but he can’t help it. The absolute control Bucky has over you is something Steve yearns for, something he's been wanting for quite a while.

And he makes the decision then and there that maybe Bucky isn’t so much in the wrong after all.

624 notes · View notes

sapphire-strikes · 4 years

Note

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What in the sam hill does that-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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kylosupremeimagines · 4 years

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Kylo Ren X Reader: My Galaxy

Request: Hello how are you? If requests are open would it be possible for you to write a one shot or whatever you're comfortable with of Kylo Ren finally proposing to his lover, who's his best friend back at the Jedi training.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Word Count: 1153

A/N: I’m going to post a set of headcanons for his wedding tomorrow! <3

Blog Master List | Commissions

Kylo pursed his lips as he glanced down at the golden ring in his palm, a soft glimmer to the metal. A single crimson piece taken from a kyber crystal was set flawlessly in the center between two clear crystals, As he had bleed his crystal years ago after leaving the Jedi Order, a few pieces had broken off that he kept all these years. He had bled his emotions into the crystal until it had become a part of his very being. His soul.

To pass it onto you would mean the galaxy to him. Lost in thought, A soft breeze danced around him as the doors leading out to the hotel suite balcony. A week away from the First Order was all he needed to make his time with you special; it was the perfect cover to allow him to finally propose to you after years of waiting. He bit down on his lower lip as his finger tapped against his leg.

Kylo found himself outside, leaning against the railing. His honey brown eyes scanned the endless horizon of Coruscant’s cityscape, the lights illuminating the line of skyscrapers around the hotel. A smile curled onto his freckled features as he sensed a familiar presence growing near. He tucked the jewelry into his pocket and turned his attention as you neared behind him.

You adjusted the band that kept your rope closed tight to not expose yourself to the world beyond the balcony. A smile graced your own features warmly. “I’m sorry that I took so long in the shower,” you apologized to him, resting a hand on the railing as you stood by him. Your gaze met with his mesmerizing eyes, taking in the comfort of his aura.

“It’s fine, you have nothing to worry about, (Y/N),” he assured you. As his hand came up to cup your cheek lovingly, Kylo leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss. You pulled him down by the shirt, smiling into the kiss as his warm lips danced against yours with such passion. As he parted from the kiss, his breath was warm on your lips.

“Still,” you insisted.

“You’re out now so we can enjoy the food when it arrives,” Kylo mentioned in anticipation. As the last night on Coruscant, he ordered nearly a tiny feast worth of food to share, along with a delectable bottle of Blossom Wine from Naboo itself. He only ever wanted what was best for you, and would travel until the end of the galaxy for your happiness.

“I’m going to miss the hotel food, it’s surprisingly good.”

“That’s why I ordered all of your favorite things,” his smile grew. Kylo leaned against the railing, his elbows resting against the flat surface. His gaze trailed up to watch the stars above, knowing that soon he would be required to return to his duties as Supreme Leader and lead the First Order. But for now, he couldn’t let such thoughts tear him away from this perfect moment.

“You really are the sweetest, Kylo,” a soft laugh escaped your lips as you leaned in close to him, head resting on his shoulder.

“Oh, I wouldn’t exactly say that,” he shook his head. “I just want to treat you right.”

“Which is exactly why I think you’re more than I deserve,” you sighed. “I still can’t believe that after everything, we can finally do what we want with our lives without worrying about Snoke ruining it all,” you came to confess. For the longest time, you two were trapped under his ruling, learning the ways of the Force all while being commanded to do things nearly unspeakable.

“I know that this isn’t the best way to ask you. It’s nothing big or fancy, but I thought maybe just telling you…” Kylo began to trail off in thought. “if anything, it’s me who doesn’t deserve you. You’ve been with me since the day that you joined the temple. You’re the only one who has stayed by my side and never once gave me reason to think that you would betray me. Stars, I can stay that I’ve only ever loved you, no one else has come close to winning my heart like you have. There’s no telling where I would be without you in my life. I probably would have gone insane right now and allowed for the darkness to take full control over me rather than control it myself.

“You are my anchor. It’s like there’s something that we can’t understand that’s brought us close together and connected us through the Force itself. I can say that you are a part of me that I never wish to lose and I know that I would be broken without you. We’ve been through so much together, and the moment that we defeated Snoke, I knew that I never wanted it any other way. I know that it’s been a while and I’ve been trying to decide how to do this for so long, but I just need to ask you… would you spend the rest of our lives together? Will you marry me?”

There was a bright glimmer of hope in his eyes as he stared down at you, slipping the ring out of his pocket to present it to you. It laid in his palm, the three beautiful crystals facing you. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you saw the ring, gaze flickering back up to the man before you. “Do you really want me to marry you?” you inquired in surprise. Your heart fluttered, nearly pounding in anticipation against the middle of your chest.

“I don’t want anything more in the galaxy,” Kylo breathed out. He took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. His other trailed up your shoulder to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing over your soft skin. “you’re the only one in my life who has never let me down. Even my own parents have done things that I can never put behind me, but only you have stayed by my side and never once betrayed me. So yes, I want you to marry me. I want to make a life with you, to be with you until my dying breath.”

You stared deeply into his dark orbs in admiration, teeth peeking out of your bright smile as it grew. “Then of course I’ll marry you,” you expressed. As a heavy weight lifted off of Kylo’s shoulders, he reached for your hand and slipped the golden jewelry onto your ring finger. He wrapped his arms around your figure and engulfed you in a strong embrace.

“I love you so much. Thank you for being in my life,” he whispered into your ear, clenching onto the back of your robe.

“You’ve always been here for me too,” you reminded him. “so I love you too. Until the end of time…”

Tag List: @scheherazades-horcrux @alladeline @attorneyl @babybluelukex@glitzescape @dancewaterdance02 @celiholland @crkylo@celestiaelisia @xsister-serpent @fizzywoohoo @topsykretts92 @ayatimascd@delicatelyherdreams @ddriveringg @littlegirlsdontplaynice @yymmaarr@darlinguris @bellaren18 @queenofheartsmegs @themauvemage@starlingmehdarling @anti-climactic @mollmoll01 @reylokisses @smallt1ddygothgf @mira-winterlight @glassythoughts @moon-390 @fralackles @zaneholtzwrites @pinkmoontribe-blog

#Kylo Ren X Reader #Kylo Ren Reader Inserts #Kylo Ren Imagines #Kylo Ren #Adam Driver #Star Wars

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Text

Decryption_Error: “Beneath the Bright Lights”

Summary: As the holiday season begins, Y/N sees a side of Elliot she had nearly forgotten about. However, Darlene is able to hit the reset button for her brother, and Elliot and Y/N end up having a memorable, happy holiday season.

Decryption_Error: All Chapters

A/N: ** Lines/Story credited to the show, not me.

Word Count: 9100

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul @free-rami @ramimedley @hopplessdreamer @sweet-charmie @polarcrystall @hah0106

If you want added, removed, or if I’ve missed your request, let me know : )

Warnings: Angst, Verbal attack, Marijuana use, Smut (18+ up, please)

Gif Credit: @s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r

“We could just . . . not pick her up?”

“She’ll love the organized chaos of a high-society social. Maybe she can even do some networking?”

Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew Elliot rolled his eyes; I chuckled and lightly smacked his shoulder with the back of my hand.

We were on our way to pick up Darlene before heading to my parents’ house in Greenwich to kick off the first event of the holiday social season. Every year, on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, Dad hosted a party for the members of the board and his investors. It was a way to maintain relationships, form new ones, and offer a thank you to everyone who helped with the company’s growth.

The general public was committed to its characterization of what it was like to be an owner of a company on Wall Street—bouncing from meeting to meeting before sitting in an office to bark out orders like a ringmaster in a circus, whose priority was not to entertain but to squeeze the most money out of every person in the tent or to squeeze every ounce of productivity out of every employee. In reality, owning a company meant maintaining a huge social jerk, a near-constant stroking of egos in order to reassure some of the most insecure people, who also happened to be some of the most wealthy people, that you weren’t going to lose the most important thing to them: their money.

This party was especially important because Dad was announcing his retirement. Normally, this created a drop off in stocks because people panicked. Out with the stability they had always known and in with something new. If there was anything people with money hated (aside from parting with it), it was change.

And Elliot wasn’t interested in any of it—he didn’t understand the need for it. Or perhaps it wasn’t that he didn’t understand it, but that he didn’t approve of it and was not willing to risk hurting my feelings to say so.

I had just returned from a business trip in Denver, and I was so insanely paranoid there would be another attack while I was gone. I was the one who had to deal with the brunt of the board and didn’t want to risk placing that kind of pressure on the new Senior Manager, JaLeah, or even Ali. But as of this evening, there were no further cyberattacks on our company. In fact, DoS attacks were down by 15%. Typically, there are surge of attacks close to the holidays like there had been on the Fourth of July.

Elliot’s voice startled me out of my thoughts, asking, “How many people are going to be there?”

“Many, many people, but since it’s at our house, you can hide in my room when you’ve had enough. You look handsome, by the way.”

He was wearing light gray pants, a nice slim-fit chino. He had donned a navy sweater over a white dress shirt and tamed his hair into a side part. He looked nice, normal, at least in the way I knew he envisioned normal.

He reached over and took my hand, pulling it into his lap so he could lace his fingers through mine.

“I missed you.”

“It’s a shame we have to spend my first night back surrounded by other people.”

“Are you tired?”

“Exhausted,” I breathed as I pulled in front of the building where Darlene was staying and threw my flashers on while we waited for her to come out. She wasn’t long, and I reached behind my seat to fish in my overnight bag for the black heels I promised her.

Darlene had her hair pulled up in a ballerina bun and her makeup looked flawless. Her dress was black, fitted, and fairly short with long, lace sleeves. She was currently accessorizing it with a worn pair of high-top chucks.

“You look gorgeous—even with the chucks,” I said as I dangled my heels. “These are the ones you tried on the other night.”

“Perfect,” she mumbled as she unlaced her shoes.

“Feeling conservative, tonight?” Elliot smirked as he peeked around his seat.

“Shut your face, Sweater Vest,” she retorted without looking up.

“I’m not wearing a sweater-vest.”

“Whatever, Mr. Tanner. Isn’t this what rich people look like? Basic black and heels and shit?”

“Is that what I look like to you?” I asked mildly offended and majorly concerned that I looked like a caricature.

Neither Elliot nor Darlene said anything for so long I actually guffawed.

Elliot laughed softly and pulled our still laced together hands to his mouth and pressed a quick kiss to the top of my wrist.

“You look good. You always look nice.”

“Mmm,” I said, unconvinced as I pulled my hand from his grasp to put the car in drive.

We chatted on our way out of the city, mostly about the party and about our childhood Thanksgivings. I found myself scaling back the details of my own in the event that it would seem obnoxiously normal; I didn’t want to feel like I was throwing my happy childhood in their faces. However, it did seem they had some normality with Angela and her parents, always ditching their own house in favor of hers, especially before her mom died.

When we crept up the drive, the party was already in full swing in the heated tents in the backyard, so I pulled into the garage so we could sneak in our bags. The house was full of caterers and servers, so we quickly dashed upstairs.

I flicked on the light to Charlie’s room, which was closest to mine, and Darlene threw her bag on his bed, her eyes taking in the bedroom.

“If you ever need a house sitter, I better be your first call.”

“My parents are actually downsizing their place in the city and moving out here. I can’t remember if I mentioned it, but tonight’s the night Dad announces his retirement.”

“Is that, like, a big deal?” Darlene asked.

“For several million reasons, it is.”

Darlene nodded and said she was going to use the bathroom, if she could find it, she muttered as she flicked on the light to Char’s closet.

“It’s on your other left,” I laughed as I went to my room.

Elliot was on the balcony which overlooked the party. With my heels on, I was just a bit taller than him so I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my chin on his shoulder.

“Are you going to be cool with all of this? It won’t be as stuffy as the last few parties I made you go to.”

“I’m surprised the tent is big enough to house all of that ego.”

I turned into his neck and inhaled the familiar scent of his aftershave.

“Because you, Mr. Hackerpants, have no ego at all,” I teased before pressing my lips to his neck.

“I don’t use my skills to rob the masses blind.”

I loosened my grip on his waist and stepped back.

“You don’t have to go. I just thought it would be nice if the family was there for Dad’s announcement.”

Even with my loosened grip, I felt Elliot’s body tense. I let him go and he turned to face me, leaning back against the railing.

“I’m family?”

I shrugged, unable to meet his eyes because I feared his rejection when I answered, “Yeah. We consider you a part of our clan now.”

Elliot sighed and stepped forward, his finger moving to lift my chin.

His polychromatic eyes were a swirl of blue and grey tonight, making them seem almost ethereal in the flickering lights from below and the back light from my room. I couldn’t quite read his expression, which seemed to be something I struggled with a lot lately. I wasn’t sure why, but Elliot wasn’t the open book he was when I first met him. Long ago I had theorized that he hadn’t learned to guard himself from me in the early stages of our relationship, like the night we first had sex. His vulnerability had once been laid bare to me, but it was almost always gone now and I sometimes wondered if I had projected, idealized the version of Elliot I wanted to see, the version that needed me.

Elliot tilted his head slightly up and kissed me, a soft sweet kiss.

“Okay,” he whispered against my lips before he pulled away.

Darlene’s clicking heels on the hardwood floor interrupted the moment and we turned to meet her, ready to head to the party.

Dad’s announcement went over well since he said he’d remain on the board for at least two more years. His replacement was a company favorite, a man not entirely unlike Miles with his perfect reputation and his ambition to climb, but I thought he was a good choice, a safe choice.

I left toward the end of the party, my face tired from the banal talk and the even more banal smiles. When I went upstairs to my room after grabbing a spoon, a can of caviar from the fridge, and a sleeve of crackers, Darlene was laying across the end of the bed sorting a pile of business cards.

“Oh! You did some networking?” I said as I emptied my hands and reached to open the caviar. I prepped a cracker and walked over to Darlene before popping it in my mouth.

“Networking for that rich D,” she said with a smirk.

I swallowed, barely holding back a laugh, “Even better!”

I leaned over to take a look at her pile and frowned.

“Can I help?”

“Have at it,” she said as slid off the bed and headed to the caviar.

“Married. Married. Married.” I said as I tossed those cards to the side.

“This one broke Char’s heart last season, so he’s maybe bi? Maybe in denial?”

“Toss. I don’t want your brother’s sloppy seconds,” Darlene said.

“Fair enough,” I agreed as I continued. “He’s nice. Nice. Holy fuck—”

Darlene grinned like a cat as I held up the most coveted number in my social circle. Alexander Strömberg was gorgeous, perpetually single, a tech genius, and a self-made billionaire.

“He overhead me talking about cryptojacking, hypothetically, of course, and before I knew it, he was fetching me a drink and holding my elbow like I was my fair fucking lady. We talked. And we totally made out by the pool.”

I made an incomprehensible noise between a sigh and a slight moan. “He’s gorgeous. And smart as a whip.”

Darlene raised her brow, “He did say he knew you . . .”

“We’ve crossed paths over the years,” I said, looking toward Elliot who didn’t seem to be listening to a thing we were saying. “But neither of us ever made anything of it.”

Darlene finished another cracker before she gathered up her pile of business cards, throwing the ones I warned her about in the trash. She stretched and said she was going to find her way to the kitchen to find something more substantial than “fancy-ass” caviar. I gave her directions and she waved, not bothering to glance back as she headed downstairs.

I stretched out in her vacated spot and used my feet to kick off my heels. I glanced up, angling my head to look at Elliot as his fingers never paused in their trajectory over the keys of his laptop. He had dipped out not long after Dad’s announcement, and he hadn’t even glanced up when I came upstairs. His sweater had been discarded and his white button down was open, revealing his white undershirt.

“I hate these things. But I’m glad everyone knows about Dad’s retirement. I was tired of keeping that secret.”

“Didn’t look like you hated it.”

“I can assure you, I did. Now everyone thinks I’m maneuvering for a position in Dad’s company. I felt like a broken record repeating that I have no interest in leaving the tech side of things.”

“My heart bleeds for you.”

I sat up on my elbows and stared at Elliot, disbelieving of his cold tone.

“What?”

Elliot huffed and looked up from his laptop, and there was an edginess in him I hadn’t seen since Sarah had texted him about the server room. Anger seemed to be surging under his skin, humming.

Elliot’s eyes locked on mine, unwavering in their brutality before they flicked to the ceiling as he leaned his head back and stated, “Why the fuck should I sit here and listen to a rich little girl complain about doing rich people things? Do you understand everyone in that room tonight could cut their salaries in half and still have more money than they could spend in a lifetime? That everyone here, at this house, your house, could effectively end the desperate paycheck-to-paycheck struggles of every person who works for them? I don’t give a fuck if you’re tired from smiling at shitty jokes and drinking expensive champagne and eating fucking caviar.”

“What the fuck, Elliot?” I said as I slid off the bed and stood, the blood rushing to my ears, roaring with the humiliation that was coloring my cheeks red.

He rolled his eyes and shut his laptop, tossing it on the bed beside him as he stood to unbutton the cuffs of his dress shirt. I took a step back, and he didn’t even glance up as he popped the buttons and shrugged out of the sleeves.

“Elliot? Seriously! What the hell was that?”

He brushed past me and walked over to his backpack and dug out a pack of cigarettes. Without looking at me again, he went on to the balcony and lit up.

As I stood dumbfounded and staring at his silhouette, Darlene walked in, saying she forgot her phone as she walked over to my nightstand. When she processed the look on my face and read the tension in the room, she asked, “What’s up?” as her eyes looked between me and her brother on the balcony.

“Nothing,” I mumbled as I looked away and moved toward my desk.

“Tell me. Please,” she added as she stepped in front of me.

“It’s nothing,” I said as I stepped around her and gathered up the caviar and crackers and tossed them into the trash, disgust churning in my gut.

“Elliot’s clearly pulled a dumbass move. If we can’t talk to each other, who can we talk to?” she pleaded, her eyes, so like his, boring into the back of my head.

I pressed my lips together and inhaled, steadying my nerves as I turned to her and explained, “He’s not . . . himself. I haven’t seen him like this for months—I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him this . . . mean,” I finished as I blinked quickly, holding back tears because Elliot certainly didn’t deserve them.

Darlene frowned and for once she didn’t bite out a sarcastic remark. She seemed far away in her thoughts when she finally said, “Think I’ll have a smoke, too. You mind grabbing me a water? Sorta forgot to get one when I was talking to your parents.”

I took the hint and was relieved to get out of the room. My legs felt shaky as I made my way down the hallway, and when I descended the steps, my hand clung tightly to the rail as I continued to fight the urge to cry as Elliot’s dark words pierced through my mind, seemingly stuck in a belligerent loop.

I took a deep breath and steeled my features before I went into the kitchen and made light, normal conversation with my mom and dad.

Even after my parents said goodnight, I sat in the kitchen, replaying what Elliot said. It wasn’t the first time he had expressed himself about socioeconomic division, but it was certainly the first time I understood that he did not separate me from my parents’ wealthy status. I thought Elliot saw me just for me, but tonight proved I was wrong.

Darlene walked quietly into the kitchen and I looked up, not bothering to hide my hurt.

“Is Elliot asleep?”

“Nah. He’s waiting to see you.”

“I don’t want to see him.”

“I don’t blame you, Y/N,” she said, her expression soft as she approached me. “But please don’t give up on him now. Just . . . hear him out.”

I frowned and thought about all the times I swore to myself that I’d be someone Elliot trusted, someone he could count on, someone who wouldn’t leave him.

I nodded and gave her shoulder a squeeze before I grabbed two waters from the fridge. The walk to my room was long as dread settled heavily in my stomach.

Elliot was sitting on the bed facing the doorway as his feet dangled off the floor thanks to the high bedframe. The first thing I noticed was that the change in his demeanor was so stark it nearly made me take a step back. Gone was the edginess, the closed off body language, the skittish glances. In front of me was the Elliot I could read like a book, and when he didn’t raise his head to meet my eyes, I knew he was in the same state of misery as I was.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” his voice quiet, a deep sadness wrapping up every word.

“You hurt me.”

Elliot looked up, a flicker of relief on his face that I was being direct with him. He had trouble with ambiguity, especially when it came to feelings.

“I don’t want you to bury your feelings, ever. This life—my life—I know it fucks with your moral compass, the idea that anyone rich can’t be good. But fuck, Elliot. You really came at me, at my family, who, in case you forgot, consider you family, too.”

I was starting to feel angry.

“I know. And I am sorry.”

“I know.”

Elliot scooted forward and stood, taking a few tentative steps toward me.

“Do you have any idea what kind of people were at that party?”

“Good people. Bad people. In-between people. Money doesn’t change that.”

“Philip Price from E Corp was here.”

“Yeah? I’ve known him since I was little. E Corp financed Dad’s manufacturing plant in Colorado—the one that employs over 600 people, in case that mattered,” I sniped.

Elliot said nothing but came closer, watching my face and imploring me to remember—and then it hit me as effectively as a slap across the face.

“Your dad worked for E Corp before he got sick.”

“As a software engineer.”

Despite my anger, I softened, knowing what Elliot’s dad meant to him and to Darlene, as much as she remembered of him.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“He’s not the only one who got cancer. Angela’s mom, too. And there were over 20 others. All of them working out of E Corp’s Washington Township facility.”

I took some time to think about what I wanted to say next, my anger at Elliot continuing to recede.

“Are you saying E Corp was at fault?”

“Yes.”

“Have you . . . looked into it?” I asked, avoiding directly knowing whether he hacked the shit out of the biggest conglomerate on Wall Street.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Nothing. There’s no conclusive evidence E Corp was involved.”

I shifted my weight as I thought about whether I wanted to offer my help, the last seeds of my anger dissipating as I looked at Elliot’s sad face.

“Do you—I don’t know how far I could get, but do you want me to look into it?”

“I’ve already—"

“Sure, digitally, you’ve . . . researched it. But sometimes the paper trail can . . . disappear.”

Elliot looked at me for a long time and I would’ve given anything to know what he was thinking as he formulated what he wanted to say, or rather, what he was willing to say.

“I would appreciate that.”

“Oh, Elliot,” I said as I closed the tentative distance between us and wrapped him up in a hug which he returned with equal fervor.

“I feel like I have no control sometimes,” Elliot whispered into my hair. “Everything is out of my control.”

I laughed lightly into his shoulder.

“Control is an illusion, El. No one ever really has it.”**

Elliot’s grip tightened on me, and I fell into his embrace, letting myself believe his apology and naively, so naively believe this was the last of the anger and the apologies.

* Christmas Eve *

My apartment was so hot I debated turning on the air conditioning until Elliot suggested opening the balcony door.

I flung the door open as Elliot came up behind me, pushing me onto the balcony, almost tackling me into the railing.

I laughed and he turned me around his arms, his face split into a grin as he leaned in to sloppily kiss me.

He was drunk, I was drunk, and so was everyone else still at my Christmas Eve party.

Angela and Ollie had stopped by earlier, but they had made a pretty short evening of it. I hadn’t yet clicked with Angela, mostly because she focused all of her attention on Elliot as soon as she saw him. I told him he should hang out with her more often, but a part of me was relieved when he said he really didn’t want to. I didn’t push for an explanation.

Franco and his wife, Gianna, Jill and Jack, along with Darlene and a few more friends were all in attendance. Darlene’s sometimes more-than-friend, a good-looking stockbroker, stopped by around the same time as Angela and Ollie.

Erin, Ryan, and Charlie came, and since Kathleen was on-call, Josh brought Jared and Jack, who both competed with Elliot for the attention of Jack and Jill’s dog, Robert Goulet.

My parents stopped by for a little while, insisting they weren’t going to crash the good times of “the youth” for long.

I expected Elliot to stick to either me or Darlene, but he didn’t. Instead, he spent a long time talking to Franco about his business. Elliot had said once that he would like to do that someday; start up his own cybersecurity business, land a few big clients to pay the bills, but then operate pro-bono for as many small businesses as he could.

I offered him the start-up money and he promptly looked like I had just slaughtered a bag full of puppies, so that was the end of that conversation.

Things had been normal—we had a happy thanksgiving with my family, then Elliot invited me to go with him and Darlene to visit their mother. Darlene went as far as the lobby, but I went to Mrs. Alderson’s room with Elliot. She had suffered a debilitating stroke, most likely caused by smoking, and was mostly catatonic, her eyes only occasionally flicking to Elliot as he sat with her.

Elliot and I never really talked about what happened in my room after the social, so I considered Elliot letting me in to his life by taking me to meet his mother as a way of sincerely apologizing.

But by visiting his mother, Elliot opened a door I was dying to peek into. I tried to open the door and ask more about his relationship with her, but he slammed it shut. For the past few days, I had been warring with myself with whether or not to suggest he go to therapy, and I decided my best bet was to ask Darlene what she thought he’d say if I suggested it.

It was almost 2 am when I finally kissed Jill, Jack, and Robert Goulet goodnight, but I wasn’t the last person to kiss Mr. Goulet. Elliot carried him to the elevator and I had never seen him look so adoringly at anything, but the way he looked at Robert Goulet as he handed him over to Jill was heartbreaking.

Robert Goulet didn’t help matters either by looking back, upside-down at Elliot and giving him a sad, big-eyed glance. Elliot leaned forward and smooched Robert Goulet between the eyes and Jill yelled at me to take Elliot to the shelter to pick out a puppy.

I shook my head and sighed as Elliot waved goodbye as the elevator doors shut. Jill and Jack gave a wave but I knew sure as shit that Elliot was waving at their dog.

“You can see Robert Goulet anytime you want,” I said as Elliot turned around looking sad.

“I love him.”

“I can see that.”

“He’s such a good boy.”

“He is. I take it you and Darlene never had pets?”

Elliot’s expression darkened and he shook his head no.

“Are there any Jell-O shots left?”

“If you didn’t eat them all,” I said with a laugh as Elliot headed back inside to raid the fridge.

Just as I shut the door, I saw that Darlene was shrugging into her coat. She was the last to leave, but I begged her not to.

“Don’t go. I can’t stand the thought of you not being with people who love you on Christmas morning.”

I didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on mine, an unspoken question of whether I meant what I said.

“Stay,” I pressed.

“If you’re gonna be so up my ass about it,” Darlene said with the least unaggressive huff I’d ever heard, so I smiled and walked over to her give her a big hug and a loud kiss on the temple.

“Eat chips with me,” I said, grinning.

She giggled, clearly still drunk, but not quite as drunk as her brother.

“That dog is really fucking cute,” Darlene said as she gathered up the pita chips and the layered hummus dip.

“His name,” specified Elliot as he hollowed out his cheeks and sucked down the last Jell-O shot, “is Robert Goulet.”

Darlene laughed at the offense dripping in Elliot’s voice.

I giggled at the two of them as I slid my chip through the dip and ended up miscalculating the dip to chip ratio, half of it landing with a splat on the floor.

“Fuck,” I said, contemplating whether I should still eat it.

“I got you,” Elliot said as he stumbled over with a wad of napkins, some of them trailing behind him as he miscalculated his hand to napkin ratio.

He cleaned up the dip and I thanked him when he came back and plopped on the sofa. His eyes immediately slid shut and he had a dreamy smile on his face as he leaned back into the cushion.

“He’s dreaming about that dog,” I loudly whispered to Darlene.

“I know,” she loudly whispered in return.

As Darlene and I chattered and ate entirely too many pita chips, she eventually looked around me to give her brother a wary eye.

“El—you alive over there?”

I turned to look as he jumped a bit at being addressed and vaguely hummed in response.

“Go to bed, dork,” Darlene barked as Elliot opened his bloodshot eyes.

He shuffled to the edge of the couch and looked around like he had forgotten where he was.

“Those Jell-O shots are lethal,” I said with a grin. “And you had a whole fucking tray’s worth when you weren’t laying on the floor with Robert Goulet.”

“Robert Goulet,” Elliot sighed with a half-smile as he shook his head and stood, stumbling just a little.

“Fuck,” he muttered, as he wobbled. “Night.”

We watched Elliot walk in a semi-zigzag down the hall. There was a questionable thump that caused us to giggle loud enough before Elliot swung the bedroom door shut.

“Guess he’s alright,” I said at the end of my laugh.

“He’s fine,” Darlene said with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re staying,” I said as I moved into Elliot’s spot, stretching my legs out.

“Thanks for asking me to,” Darlene said with a soft smile that looked just like her brother’s.

“Water?” I asked, reluctantly swinging my feet off the couch.

“I think it’s about that time,” she said, laying her head back on the couch, again, much like her brother.

I glanced up at the TV as I walked back into the living room and handed Darlene a bottle of water. The TV was still softly playing Christmas songs as a fire burned on the screen.

The fake fireplace made me realize it was awfully chilly, and I walked over to shut and lock the balcony door.

When I sat down, I looked at Darlene who had turned her head to watch my movements.

“Spill. You look like Elliot—I can see the indecisive hesitation just about making your head ready to pop off.”

“I don’t know if I’m not drunk enough or if I’m too drunk to ask.”

“That serious? Gotta be about my bonehead of a brother. I swear to god if you’re thinking about breaking up with him, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Kick his ass?” I laughed.

“Yes—because somehow I know he’ll end up fucking this up. Not to, like, shit on your relationship because I hope to fuck he doesn’t fuck it up, but I’m just saying—”

“I know what you mean. You’re a good sister. And a great friend.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me now, Y/N. Spill.”

I took a long drink of my water and put the lid back on, stretching to set the bottle on the coffee table before I settled back into the sofa.

I took a deep breath and asked what I had wanted to ask Darlene since she and I really became friends.

“Did your brother ever tell you about the incident in the Server Room?”

“You mean how you saved his ass from getting fired?”

“About what he did after he got locked in.”

Darlene took a deep breath, her hands in her lap as her chip lay idle in her fingertips.

“He told me that those guys, like, played a prank or something—locked him in with the servers because he kept hacking through their security protocols. He said he lost it and the next thing he knew, you were there. Like a fucking knight in shining armor,” she said, her voice just hinting at being teasing.

I scoffed.

“He didn’t say that,” Darlene said with an eyeroll, “but that’s what he meant. He thinks you hung the moon, Y/N. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Happy?”

“Not since we were kids. And even then it was less . . . consistent.”

“He didn’t say anything else about that night?”

“No,” Darlene answered, her eyes boring into mine just like Elliot’s.

“I need you to be absolutely positive he didn’t say anything else—are you totally sure?”

“Yes. I am positive that’s all he said. Why?”

After a pause, my explanation came out in a bit of a rush.

“Elliot has no memory of smashing up the towers. When I found him, he was blacked out. I thought it was the head gash, but Jill assured me it wasn’t. She—she rattled off a few things that could cause a person to black out like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Anxiety attack, a reaction to traumatic stress, dissociative or dissociative identity disorder, or,” I paused, “schizophrenia.”

Darlene was quiet.

“The first time I remember it happening was when I was like six, maybe seven. My grandmother came to visit, Dad’s mom, and she was showing us all these pictures from when Dad was little. I remember thinking about how much Elliot looked like him as a kid and being a little jealous because I didn’t. Anyway, my grandmother started to cry and she told Elliot how much Dad loved him, how special he was to him, and Elliot just froze before he started screaming. He told her to shut up and a bunch of shit I can’t really remember, but Mom got so pissed. She dragged Elliot upstairs and locked him in his room.”

It felt like I had swallowed lead as I listened to Darlene, the knot of leaden nerves growing heavier as she continued.

“Once Mom was in bed, I stole her key and took Elliot dinner. He was just laying in his bed, facing the wall like he hadn’t moved all day. I remember—”

Darlene faltered for the first time in her story.

“I remember,” she said finding her voice again, “the look on Elliot’s face when he rolled over. He asked, ‘Did Mom lock me in?’”

“I told him, yeah, she did, and he asked why she hated him so much.”

“I said that maybe it was because he yelled at our grandmother, and I’ll never forget the way he looked at me because I’ve seen it enough times now. He looked at me like he had no idea what I was talking about—like I had just told him some horrible truth he had no knowledge of.”

“So, he’s blacked out since he was little?”

“I’m not sure how young, but that’s the first time I remember it happening.”

“And has—has he ever been to therapy?”

“Definitely in high school. I remember mom being livid when she found out he met with the school’s psychologist once a week.

I don’t know what it was about Elliot that always set her off. It was like he couldn’t ever do anything right. I mean, she was a fucking bitch to me, too, but all of her anger was concentrated on him. It was like he was her trigger.”

“Did she,” I stopped and paused. “This is hard to ask outright. Did she . . . hurt either of you?”

“When I was, like, 8, I found this kitten. Gray and black with four perfectly white paws. She was so little, so I snuck her into my room, even named her. Moonpie,” Darlene said with a wistful smile. “Anyway, I built a little space for her in the backyard and that’s when Mom found out. She threw us in the car, went in and got Elliot, then drove to a lake. She said—she said I had to drown the cat so I would remember that actions have consequences, and disobeying her meant a consequence. I fucking took the cat and ran for it and found her a home far away from that monster.**

I’ve got a million stories like that,” Darlene finished, finally flicking her eyes to mine. “She was a stone-cold bitch.”

I was quiet while I processed Darlene’s story, thinking it alone confirmed why she stayed in the lobby when we visited her mom.

“I don’t want to push Elliot, but there’s something he’s not telling me. Maybe not telling any of us.”

“If you push him, you could lose him. That’s all I’m going to say. How important is it for him to tell you—or us—or anyone?”

“That night at my parents’ house,” I began. “That wasn’t the first time Elliot lost his temper with me.”

Darlene huffed, “That wasn’t—fuck. I don’t know how to explain it, but that wasn’t the same. Trust me. When he really loses it, you’ll know.”

“And he never remembers?”

“No.”

“Do you think it’s an act? A way to release aggression without suffering the consequence?”

“Y/N—this is the most normal I’ve ever seen my brother. Before you, there was nothing. No one. He stayed in and jacked around on his computer. What would be the point of putting on an act for years? It’s not like he was protecting some perfect life.”

“I don’t know. Had to ask,” I said with a shrug.

“I’m just saying that he’s happy now. He’s in a good place—you are a good place.”

“I do feel like he is happy now, but I can’t stop thinking about what happens when he’s not. What if he gets depressed again? What if something does happen between us that isn’t fixable? Then he blames himself and it all goes to shit—again. How many times is he going to go through that cycle before he moves forward and stays in a forward momentum?”

I . . . want to ask him to talk to someone, a therapist, or whatever. Just . . . someone. How do you think he’ll react? Or should I just forget it?”

Darlene sighed as she thought, and I could see her nibbling her bottom lip.

“He trusts you. If anyone can suggest it, it’s you.”

“But should I?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I mean, yeah. He’s got a fuckton of baggage, but I hate to stir shit up when he’s happy.”

“We shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells. No one’s happiness should be that fragile . . . that temporary.”

Darlene shrugged.

“Just maybe give me a warning before the shit hits the fan so I can get the fuck outta here.”

I laughed softly.

“You always assume the worst—and I get it. Well, I mean I think I understand it. I didn’t live through what you’ve lived through. And hey—this isn’t just about Elliot. If you ever need anything or anyone to unleash on, I’m here.”

Darlene looked at me and nodded her head, almost imperceptibly.

“I’ve made my peace with my shit childhood. But sometimes—"

I waited expectantly.

“Sometimes I wonder how much of it really fucked me up. I don’t—I don’t trust anyone. Like, ever.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a job?”

“What?”

“Considering what you do, I’m not surprised you feel like you have to look over your shoulder all the time. Even if you wanted to just set up a legit business for yourself, I could help you do that. Maybe you wouldn’t feel like everything was about to crash in on you at any moment. You could be totally independent.”

Darlene looked at me like I was crazy.

“You legit see the good in everything, don’t you?”

“I see the bad, but I choose to ignore as much of it as I can. I used to . . . not. That was one of the best things I learned from my therapist. She helped me climb over that wall of impending doom. Granted, it’s still there at times, but she taught me how to confront those feelings so they don’t paralyze me. I know my demons are nothing compared to yours or Elliot’s, and I know I have it easy because I can always rely on my parents to help me. But that kind of thinking leads to its own sort of darkness.”

I just want Elliot to be happy, really happy. And you, too.”

“Thanks. I don’t know if you realize what it’s like to just have someone care. That’s why I love Elliot so much—he’s always cared about me. I’ve never doubted that.”

“You shouldn’t. He loves you.”

“I haven’t always been the best sister.”

“None of us are—we have the longest relationships of our lives with our siblings. We are bound to fuck it up with them on occasion.”

Darlene laughed before growing serious again.

“Just promise me this?”

I nodded.

“If he bails on you, tries to push you away, don’t let him because it’s not really . . . it’s not really him.”

“Okay,” I promised.

“Think Elliot’ll be mad if we open a present early?”

“Oh, no way! Absolutely not! In fact, off to bed with you. Santa has to stuff the stockings.”

Darlene gave me a look of suppressed confusion and happiness, her mouth turning up in a sort of quirky smirk.

“Are you for real with this happy Christmas shit?”

“Yes—go to bed.”

Darlene shakes her head and slides off the sofa. She offers to help me clean up, but I tell her to get some sleep.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” Darlene says as hugs me.

“Santa is going to leave you coal,” I said as I gave her a final squeeze and she told me to shove it.

* New Year’s *

“I’m glad it’s just the two of us tonight. I feel like it’s been a whirlwind of parties and people.”

I brought Elliot his drink, enjoying the soft glow of the Christmas lights that sparkled on the tree Elliot helped me choose and trim. My apartment was over-decorated with lights and garland and the woodsy smell of pine was still strong because Elliot had gotten caught up in the holiday spirit, only pulling back when I told him it was all fun and games until it was time to take it all down.

Elliot’s bright, grey eyes were trained on my face as he said, “Because it has been. I’ve never socialized this much in my life and I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.”

“Excellent! I hope I’ve ruined you for any other person,” I said with a confident grin.

“That’s a guarantee. I’ve never been—” Elliot slammed his mouth shut and it would’ve been comical except for the look of horror on his face.

“Don’t do that.”

He shook his head.

“You can’t wait for the hammer to fall all the time. It’s a horrible way to live. You’ve never been what—say it.”

It’s clear Elliot is at war with himself in a Hamletian parody: to tell me, or not to tell me.

I huffed and leaned in to kiss him.

“You’ve never been . . .” I trailed off, a smile on my face as I placed kisses, playful and feathery, all over his face until I started teasing him with little licks under his jaw and down his neck.

“Come on, El. You’ve never been . . .”

I worked my fingers under his shirt and ghosted them along his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch as he fought not to giggle.

“Hap—hap—happier!” Elliot laughs out, unable to take my torture any longer. “I’ve never been happier.”

I grinned at him, his outburst before Thanksgiving feeling like it was a thousand miles in the past, nearly buried after the happy holiday season.

“This reminds me of Memorial Day weekend,” I said, looking over Elliot’s head as I reminisced.

“Oh yeah?”

“Do you remember? After that big meal we made together? We talked and smoked—and cuddled.”

“You told me you wanted to stop time,” Elliot said, looking at me with the slightest smile.

“Because you had me all fucked up.”

“All fucked up.”

“Don’t move—we’ve got one more Christmas present to open,” I said as I hopped up and went to dig around in the opened gifts still under the tree. I hated to put Christmas away until I absolutely had to.

“Here it is,” I mumbled as I pulled the plain black box out of the Kate Spade tote Erin had gifted me.

The commotion on the television drew my attention as I realized we had about a minute until the ball dropped. I placed the black box on the coffee table and looked at Elliot.

“It’s almost midnight,” I said with a smile.

“Yeah? You wanna kiss me or something?”

“I do,” I said with a smile. “This is an important kiss, after all.”

“Oh?”

“A kiss at midnight means we’ll be together for the next year.”

“So you believe in superstitions now?”

“Listen,” I whispered, pulling Elliot onto his feet.

Elliot looked toward the TV as the ball began to drop. When he turned his eyes to mine, I was lost, lost as I realized they were nothing more than a reflection of my own deep happiness.

“3, 2, 1—”

Elliot’s lips crashed onto mine and he kissed me until I was light-headed, straining for gasping little breaths, unwilling to break this moment.

“Happy New Year,” Elliot breathed as he rested his forward against mine.

“Happy New Year,” I echoed.

“I never thought,” Elliot said with a surprising burst of laughter, “I never thought I’d be sharing a New Year’s kiss with . . . anyone,” he finished as he tugged me along with him back onto the couch, both of us plopping down in a bit of a tangle.

I looked at Elliot’s perfect three-point grin and felt my heart skip a beat.

“I think I’ve gained weight,” Elliot chuckled, shifting on the couch as his jeans strained against his normally damn near concave stomach.

“Guess you’re just going to have to forego pants until you lose those stubborn holiday pounds?”

“Oh?” Elliot said, but this time his voice was husky, a seductive purr as he reached for the button on his jeans, sliding it open and opening his pants.

I laughed, “Is this a glimpse into our future? Late nights on the sofa in front of the TV, your pants popped open because you ate too much?”

“Would that be a terrible fate for you?”

“No,” I said, smiling as I leaned in to kiss him lightly.

“What’s in the box?” Elliot asked as he peeked over my shoulder.

“Oh—shit!”

I pulled back and reached around to the coffee table, grabbing the box.

“A little present from Erin—would you like to do the honors?”

Elliot smirked and reached for the box, quickly pulling the lid off. He chuckled as he looked at the perfectly packed, pretty fat joints.

“More than a little present, I’d say,” he stated.

“This is a perfect opportunity to recreate our Memorial Day weekend. Thanks, sis,” I grinned as I got up to find a lighter.

Elliot and I each worked our way through a joint. It was good weed, and my state of consciousness quickly gave way to that fog, that sleepy-happy state of relaxation that only came with a good smoke.

Elliot’s face seemed to be permanently etched in a perfect three-point grin as his head rested on the back of the sofa, his eyes closed.

“What’s got you grinning?” I asked, feeling every word on my tongue as I continued to watch his face, the Christmas lights in my peripheral all blurring together so prettily.

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“We’re more than friends now,” Elliot said as he opened his eyes, lazy and half-lidded, his grin still planted on his face.

I chuckled as I slid onto Elliot’s lap and pushed his chin up so his eyes were locked on mine. I traced my fingers over his brow, his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, his lips, and I pulled back and reached for his hands.

I kissed across the knuckles of each of his hands, looking for any mark, any tiny scar from the incident in the server room, but I found none—it was like it had never happened, except that here he was, underneath me and looking at me with eyes that didn’t bother to hide the love he felt, and it was all because of that terrible night.

If good didn’t exist without condition, then maybe bad didn’t either?

“If it never happened, we wouldn’t be here now, would we?” Elliot asked, reading my thoughts.

I shook my head slowly as I let his hands fall to resting on the top of my thighs, near my hips.

“This face, El,” I breathed as I scooted closer to his body, “If I could draw, I would replicate it in all its perfection. And in your eyes, I would write the thousands of truths you carry inside so I could read them, know them, and in turn, know you.”

I was high—but I wasn’t so sure it was the effect of the weed anymore that made me feel so lightheaded.

Elliot’s eyes filled with a desperate sort of desire, and I wasn’t entirely unconvinced it was because he wanted me to stop talking, wanted me to stop looking at him so deeply.

“You do know me. And you love me anyway.”

“I love you because I know you.”

I kissed him gently, then with a sense of urgency, and again, it could have been attributed to the high, but I was suddenly filled with a sense of paranoia, a thought that nothing would ever be this good again, that nothing would ever be like this night again.

Elliot’s tongue twined with mine as his fingers gripped my hips. I broke the kiss and pushed his head back so I could have access to his jaw and his neck. I licked along the sharp line of his jawbone before I placed sweet kisses down his neck. As I worked my way back up, I deepened those chaste kisses, sucking lightly in spots until Elliot’s fingers were threatening to snap with his tight grip.

“Touch me,” I whispered in his ear before I pulled the lobe into my mouth and sucked.

His hands moved, sliding under my shirt and going straight to unhook my bra. His nimble fingers managed it quickly and he switched his angle so that he was now massaging my breasts as they dropped free from my loosened bra. Elliot’s fingers were simultaneously working my nipples and I felt a rush of arousal between my thighs.

I was working the other side of his neck now, still pulling breathy moans from his throat, as Elliot began to tug at my shirt, trying to get me out of it and my bra. I sat back just enough to help, tossing the pile of fabric over the back of the couch. Since I was already leaning back, I reached for the hem of Elliot’s sweater and pulled it over his head. He had forgone a t-shirt underneath tonight and I was delighted to be able to dip my head and lick along the top of his chest, placing wet kisses across his skin and then onto the smattering of freckles that dotted his shoulders.

I pressed my body into his in a tight hug, my eyes rolling back a bit at the sensation of warm skin on warm skin.

Elliot moved forward, wriggling to the end of the couch and he stood up, after a moment’s struggle to get his hands under my thighs. I hooked my ankles together and he carried me to the bedroom, laying me on the bed and sliding into place between my legs.

I was still lost in the warm feel of our torsos, pressed together as Elliot’s hands pushed my arms up over my head so he could touch as much of me as he could reach, fingertips to waist, he ghosted along my skin until it broke into gooseflesh and I shuddered.

He was watching me with those big eyes, memorizing my face in yet another moment of passion before he pushed himself up so he could kiss across my chest.

Elliot’s lips quickly found one of my nipples, and I felt another flood of arousal as I watched his full lips pucker around it as he sucked. I ran my fingers up the back of his head and tangled them in his hair, enjoying the soft thickness.

Elliot let go with a slight pop and blew a cool stream of air over the wet patch, causing both nipples to grow impossibly hard and even more sensitive. Elliot smirked as he kissed his way to my other breast and repeated his sweet torture.

By the time he was kissing his way down my stomach, I was done, squirming with desire, the muscles of my abdomen twitching under his tongue.

“Stop,” I breathed. “Stop, stop.”

Elliot froze and looked up with wide-eyes, and I pushed out from under him.

I stood and shimmied out of my jeans and panties.

“Lay down,” I instructed, and Elliot’s face relaxed as he realized I just wanted to switch positions.

Elliot’s jeans were already falling off his hips, so with a good tug, I pulled them off and made quick work of his socks and his underwear. I took a few seconds to let my eyes rake over his naked body, his muscles taught, his cock hard, his eyes soft.

I smiled and kept my eyes on his as I straddled his hips. Elliot reached down to grasp himself, and he ran the tip of his cock through my wetness. I stayed poised above him, and I reached up to grasp his jaw, my thumb caressing the spot between his lower lip and his chin. When our eyes were locked, I lowered myself onto him and we groaned together, both overwhelmed at both the sensation and the feeling.

I moved slowly, watching his mouth form a tight line as he struggled against releasing his pleasure.

“Let go, El.”

Elliot’s eyes swept over my face before he exhaled, his mouth falling open. He ran his hands up my thighs and swept around to grasp my hips. I loved the feeling of his strong hands on me and I sped up my movements, his cock hitting just the right spot.

I wanted him so much and my high had worn off to a quiet buzz, I knew my orgasm wouldn’t take long to achieve, but I wanted to come with him tonight—I felt a desperate need to be in sync with him, to be as close to him as I could be.

We were both covered in a light sheen of sweat, our bodies hot, flushed.

“Close,” I breathed.

“Y/N,” Elliot said in a moan. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.”

Elliot’s deep, raspy voice saying my name, again and again, drove me toward the edge, and I sped up my movements, my hands clutching at his chest as I began to bounce in earnest.

“Fuck,” Elliot hissed. “I’m coming.”

And my walls clenched at his warning, squeezing around him while he emptied himself inside of me, his heat spreading over my inner walls, making me feel so connected to him as we both worked through our climaxes. Tonight, like our first night together, wasn’t about fucking; it was about feeling, about us showing one another everything we didn’t want to taint with words.

We stayed connected, arms and legs tangled, but we said nothing—nothing needed to be said, and soon Elliot’s head was settled on my chest in a haunting, much more intimate mirror of the first, chaste night we had ever spent together.

Surrounded by everything that was Elliot, I knew I wanted to forget about the incident at my parents’ house, so I did, pushing it away until I thought it was gone.

I felt Elliot relax, falling asleep in my arms, but as this Elliot, my Elliot fell asleep, another part of him was waking up, that angry part of him I wanted so desperately to forget wasn’t going to stay asleep for much longer, and it would be all my fault.

#Elliot Alderson #elliot alderson x reader #elliot x reader #female reader #rami malek #rami malek character #mr robot #mr robot fanfiction

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peachykeigo · 4 years

Text

Cigarettes and old spice.

So, i’ve been thinking about this A L O T and i decided to write it out, thank you and enjoy uwu. I actually planned to make this NSFW buttttt ended up not doing so and it just became a slightly angsty mayhem. if you do want to see a nsfw version let me know though, feedback is always appreciated <3

Pairing: Hawks X Reader.

Description: hawks visits you late at night after a fight with some villains but thinks you’re sleeping so he ends up smoking a cigarette on your balcony out of pure stress.

warnings! :mentions of violence, swearing. tags: hawks smoking is hot change my mind, angst :D , insecure bb hawks :((, fluff -ish??

1:43 AM. You can’t sleep. The thought of him consumed you and had you pondering on why he hasn’t visited you yet that night. He’s done it every night now, for more than a week. You think about the first time it happened. You were sitting by your balcony looking at the stars when suddenly a red feather slowly fell down in front of your face. You look up and see the number two hero flapping his wings in front of you. “i think this belongs to you.” he said, small smile on his face as he hands you your ID card that slipped out of your purse. Of course you were still in shock that a well known hero has just appeared in front of you but with wide eyes and a bright red face you took it from him and thanked the man. The next day it happened again, he came back but this time the only reason was to tell you, “i know this is weird, but you’re gorgeous.” After that, countless hours of the following nights were spent talking about things like your favorite food and deep conversations on why you simply existed. You could say that you’ve grown close to him, that every time you see him or even think of him you feel warmth coursing through your whole body. You really like him. But now, you think you said something wrong to him and drove him away. It had become such a normal thing to have this bird-man visit you every night that now that it didn’t happen, you felt void in your heart. 2:13 AM.

Your eyes felt too heavy and so, you decided to close them, at least just for a bit, but soon enough they were back open again at the sound of rustling coming from outside your balcony. You sit up and look at the balcony, your heart fluttering at the sight of a familliar pair of red wings.

‘He came‘ you thought to yourself.

You get out of your bed and walk towards the door of the balcony. god you were so nervous and excited that you could hear your own heartbeat. You open the door and you were greeted by the sight of him standing up against the rails of your balcony and taking a drag out of a cigarette. “Hawks?” you ask softly and instantly you find two sharp, golden eyes glancing at you as he looks back at the source of the voice who just said his name. a faint smile was playing on his lips, but even though it was dark you could still tell that he had a cut on his lip. “Hey,” he simply says in a low voice. “Sorry i’m late.” you walk towards him and furrow your eyebrows. His cheek was bruised and his lip was bleeding. You cup his face with both your hands to get a closer look. “What happened?” You ask, looking him directly in the eyes this time. A small chuckle emerges from him and gently grabs your wrists. “Hey don’t worry kid, I just got into a fight with some villains that’s all.” He tries to reassure you. “I’m perfectly fine okay?” you didn’t nod, you kept the same concerned look on your face. He looks away and continues his cigarette, looking up at the stars. His smile was gone and a small frown appeared on his face as he blew smoke out from his parted lips.

“Hawks, you only smoke when somethings bugging you.” you pointed out and touched his shoulder. “You can tell me anything okay?”

“Oh so you think you know me now?” He snapped at you with a scoff. His wings slightly grew bigger as he turned full body towards you. “You don’t know shit about me kid.” He growls at you and you could clearly see him clenching his jaw. Your eyes grew wide. This was the first time you’ve ever seen him angry. You were scared, not of him but of what has caused him to act up like this. You decide to take a step back from him, your eyes still wide and your body clearly shivering. You could see his chest rising and falling as he took heavy breaths, his wings slowly dropping down to his back again. “I-I’m sorry.” he says and looks away from you. “I didn’t mean to get angry at you, I just..” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I could have been better today” He breathes out. ”All the other heroes were so fucking amazing Y/N. They handed those guys asses to them and left without a single scratch on their body and i couldn’t take a single hit without getting bruised.” He says with a dry chuckle at the end. You knew Hawks wasn’t made to be a hero that could handle physical combat well but you knew that he was the fastest and smartest hero out there and in your eyes, he was perfect. You tilt your head to the side. “So what if you didn’t come out untouched? Your scars, your bruises, they aren’t a form of weakness Hawks, they’re battle scars. Seeing you still standing in front of me shows me that you’re strong and fuck, you’re the strongest hero i know.” You take a step closer to the other who was looking at you, wide eyed at your words. Your arms wrap around his neck and your head rests on his chest, hugging him tightly. After a few seconds you feel him wrap his arms around you again, followed by his wings going around both of you and he rests his head on top of yours and hugs you tighter to his chest. You take in his scent, a faint smell of cigarettes along with the smell of old spice. It was amazingly addicting and intoxicating. after a moment you look up at him and smile brightly at him. In a split second two soft lips met yours and you closed your eyes as you relished in this moment. Both your lips moved in sync with one another, feeling a gloved hand on each side of your warm face. He pulls away from you, breathless and looking into your eyes. “I’ve been waiting to do that to you since day one kid.” “Just please shut up and kiss me again.”

#hawks #hawks bnha #hawks x reader #hawks ff #my hero academia #bnha #bnha fanfiction #keigo takami #keigo x reader #hawks angst

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pretend-writer · 4 years

Text

Down Below (Chapter 56)

Summary: After being sent down on Earth with the other prisoners from the Ark, Y/N Reyes faces series of events and learns about survival. With new things happening around her, she is now starting a new chapter in her life.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader

Word Count: 1690 words

Warning: swearing, mention of death

Down Below Masterlist

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The crowd cheered around the fighting pit as Marcus Kane stood there once again for the second time. He starred at me, with stern but yet eyes that had worry and sadness.

‘As we invite death into this hall, we honor it.’ Gaia talked down as we all stood higher, 'Omon Gon Oson.’

'Omon Gon Oson.’ The warriors muttered as they all looked down to honor the moment.

I gripped on the rail as I starred back at Marcus. This may be the last moment I would see him alive, I thought to myself. 'Be the last.’

The criminal in the pit immediately grabbed the weapons hung on the walls, ready to fight Marcus who was the only enemy to battle against for his freedom.

Marcus on the other hand didn’t move from his position, still starring from below.

'Choose your weapon, Kane.’ The criminal shouted, 'Neither of us will walk out alive if you don’t.’

Marcus stood still and ignored the criminal. Without another word, he punched Marcus in the face, causing him to grunt and fall to the ground.

'Kane, fight!’

He looked up at the warrior and shook his head, 'I’m not fighting you.’

Marcus slowly got up and raised his voice, 'I will not kill this man.’

Octavia quickly got up out of her throne and left the area. I stayed and watched from up high as I knew I was about to see something interesting happening.

'You are Wonkru or the enemy of Wonkru!’ Octavia yelled as she walked toward the fighting pit. 'Choose.’

The criminal kneeled down, respecting Blodreina but as for Marcus, he continued to stay still. 'I already have.’

Furiously, Octavia took the sword that was used for the pit and stomped right back to Marcus. My first instinct was to run down to the fighting pit, even thought I didn’t know why I reacted the way I did.

Once I got down, Marcus was already on the ground and Octavia hovered around him. 'Where’s your survival instinct Kane? Fight.’

'Saving our people is more than keeping them alive, Octavia.’ Marcus sat up on the ground, 'It’s not to late.’

Octavia gripped on the sword tightly. 'For you, it is.’

'Wait, Octavia.’ I screamed as I ran towards her. She raised the sword up high, biting her lip as she looked at Marcus angrily.

The sudden loud noise made all of Wonkru freeze; it was coming from above us, on the land.

Bright sunlight shone from the tiny crack from our ceiling, making me squint as I continue to check what was happening.

'Octavia, Y/N. We have to go, it isn’t safe!’ Indra tried to pull us out of the fighting pit. 'Guards, get the prisoners in their cells!’

'No!’ Octavia yelled as the ceiling continued to crack open. I froze, my mind was in shock and I didn’t know what to do.

Sooner later, the ceiling stopped making noise and the dirt stopped falling from above. Instead, there was a figure coming down from a rope but with all the dust from the dirt, it was hard to see who it was.

'Bell?’ Octavia mumbled as she slowly walked over to the figure to make sure. She then runs towards them and hugged tightly.

It felt as though my feet were planted on the ground. I still couldn’t believe that after all these years we finally had sunlight or even someone coming to save us.

The figure then let Octavia go and slowly walked towards me. 'Reyes.’

Even after six years I never forgot how his voice sounded like. It’s been so long since I heard it, I couldn’t help but cry.

With a huge smile on his face, Bellamy opened his arms as I went up to him and hugged him.

He looked down at me and wiped my tears. 'Wow, Y/N with war paint on her face? I must of missed a lot these past six years.’

'I can say the same to you.’ I smiled as I poked his beard. 'Looks good on you by the way.’

Bellamy chuckled, 'I’m so glad you kept your promise. To survive, I mean.’

'Of course I did.’ I grabbed his cheeks and reached for his lips. After all these years I would of never thought I was able to kiss him again.

Hearing another person coming down, I looked to see who was behind Bellamy. The blonde was recognizable anywhere. 'Clarke.’

She turned around, 'Y/N.’

I walked over to her and shook her hand. 'If it weren’t for you offering the helmet back in Praimfaya, I would’ve been dead. So thank you.’

'It was the least I can do after what I’ve done.’ Clarke admitted. 'What all happened here? The fence, the blood…’

'Six years is a long time.’ I replied.

Two other ropes came down but this time, it wasn’t anyone familiar. I went next to Bellamy, 'Who are they?’

'Colonel Diyoza.’ Bellamy said as he pointed at the woman that stood across from us.

'Woah, Colonel?’ I questioned her.

'Long time ago but yeah.’

'Ah, respect.’ I grinned and shook her hand. Bellamy then looked at me funny. 'What?’

He chuckled, 'Six years later and you’re still adorable.’

'Oh, so you must be his girlfriend he wouldn’t stop blabbing about.’ Diyoza smirked, 'Pretty nice, Bellamy. I like her.’

Octavia squinted her eyes, looking at Diyoza’s hip. 'Why is she armed?’

'Don’t worry. I’m not going to use it on you guys.’ Diyoza reassured her. 'So how many am I going to rescue today?’

'1200.’ Bellamy responded.

'No.’ Octavia cut him off, correcting him. '814.’

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After being rescued back to the ground, I stood by the huge hole that led down to the bunker. I noticed Clarke looking at me with concern in her eyes. 'Looks like you want to ask me something.’

She jumped a little, surprised I noticed her stare. 'Uhm for starters, I wanted to know what happened in the bunker but I don’t know if I want to know.’

'You don’t want to know.’ I replied. 'No one should know.’

Marcus and Abby both came back up to the ground with the rope, unbuckling their harness as they both whispered to each other.

'Oh, Y/N.’ Marcus flashed a soft smile as he approached me. 'It’s been a while since w-’

'What do you want?’ I didn’t need or want to talk to him at all. I didn’t even know why he was starting a conversation with me in the first place.

With handcuff on his hands, Marcus reached for my hand. 'You tried to stop Octavia from killing me. I remember you yelling at her before everything happened.’

'If you think I care about you, you’re fooling yourself.’

'It means that there’s still somewhere in your heart that knows this isn’t right.’ Marcus grabbed my hand and held it tight.

Swiping my hand away, I bit my lip. 'You’re out of your mind.’

I felt Clarke’s stare and her confusion as Marcus and I argued. I don’t blame her, everything was perfectly fine until he chose to pick the wrong side.

'All I know is that you’re the enemy. You have been for six years. You don’t care about what happens to Wonkru as long as your traitor girlfriend is with you.’

'Mom, what is she talking about?’ Clarke grabbed Abby’s arm.

'Nonsense, just nonsense.’ Abby glared at me.

I chuckled and looked at Clarke. 'You ask her how she’s been doing all these years. It’s all going to be lies, trust me.’

'Get out, Y/N. Before I let Diyoza know you’re a threat.’ Abby spoke angrily.

'I’m a threat?’ I laughed as I started to walk away. 'If I tell Diyoza the whole truth about the Dark Year, she’ll come after you. Not me.’

Ignoring Abby’s comments that I was clearly able to hear, I went off to find Bellamy at a spot he wanted to meet privately.

Couple of minutes of walking, I finally made it to a building filled with sand. The Priamfaya really destroyed everything that was left on Earth.

'What’s going on here, “Skafaiya”?’ Bellamy crossed his arms as I approached him. 'Princess of Hell sounds pretty questionable. What were you guys doing down at the bunker?’

'Hey, you told me to meet me in the building by the fallen Polis Tower so I came. It’s been six years, Bellamy. Don’t you think we should save the interrogation for another time?’

He sighed, 'I’m trying to make sense of all this. War paint, grounder clothes and being commander? This isn’t like you.’

'I’m not commander and neither is Octavia. She’s the leader of Wonkru and I’m just there to help.’

I felt judgement in his eyes but I didn’t blame him. There was tons of things he needed to catch up on, too bad none of the information was something I wanted to talk about.

'All the warriors listening to everything Octavia say, seems like they’re scared of her.’ Bellamy looked at me, 'And scared of you too.’

'A lot of things happened down there, okay?’ I started to get a little irritated. 'I’m not here for a lecture from Spacekru, Bellamy. I came to see my boyfriend because I missed him after six freaking years.’

'Okay, okay. I’m sorry.’ He took my hand and pulled me towards him. 'We can talk about it another time but you have to tell me what happened soon.’

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I looked up at him. 'I don’t know if I can do that.’

'Why not?’

'It was Hell and I don’t want to relive it ever again.’ As I buried my face into Bellamy’s chest, I felt a sigh from him. I can tell it was frustrating for him to not understand what all was going on.

It wasn’t anything fun that happened down in the bunker for to share to anyone. It was a living nightmare, even the warriors from Wonkru didn’t want to talk about it.

How can I tell Bellamy what happened during the Dark Years? It was nothing but pain that I wanted to forget.

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tag list; @jodiereedus22, @coffeebooksandfandom, @bellamyblakemorley, @wisestydia-15, @dbtvluv , @hurricane–amelia , @lexalexy , @olkathefoxi, @lena-davina, @kellbell44, @thehakunamatara, @akelly4477, @morgannope, @littlegirl-fox, @captainam-erika-trash, @greygarbage, @nathaliabakes, @eternallyvenus, @rauwz, @broco8, @eridanuswave

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fic #raven reyes x sister!reader #raven reyes x reader #the 100 series #the 100 fic

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

Text

Self Promo Sunday: Hope for the Orphans

This was my very first fic, and it’s really hard for me to believe that it’s almost four years old! It’s never been posted on tumblr before, nor have I ever made art for it. So here it is: my way of bringing little!Killian and little!Emma together - in canon. I hope these two cuties bring a smile to your face (even in the midst of their canon-compliant troubles.)

I also wrote this for @whimsicallyenchantedrose whose writing I have always admired. Little did I know back then that she would become a wonderful friend! Love ya, Jen!

Summary: One night, while remembering his mother, nine year old Killian Jones asks the man in the moon a question. The next thing he knows, he’s in a strange realm meeting a seven year old Emma Swan at a Valentine’s Day party. Could she be the answer to his question?

Rating: G

Trigger warnings: mentions of child abuse (very vague), and a very ill Killian as a child

Words: 6k and some change

Also on A03

Tagging my usuals: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay�� @tiganasummertree @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @winterbaby89 @sherlockianwhovian @superchocovian @shireness-says @spartanguard @optomisticgirl @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615 @ekr032-blog-blog @nikkiemms @hollyethecurious @profdanglaisstuff @kday426 @distant-rose @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @delirious-latenight-laughs @scientificapricot @snidgetsafan @vvbooklady1256

When Killian Jones first saw Emma Swan, he had the strangest sensation that he had met her before. It was like a long-forgotten detail that niggled the back of his brain, and just as he began to grasp it, away it slipped like grains of sand. So he was delighted when it had been Emma Swan to volunteer to climb the beanstalk with him. “I was hoping it’d be you.” And as they climbed, he uncannily just knew things about her. That she was an orphan, for one. He wasn’t lying when he said she had the look of a lost boy in her eyes, but he noticed the look after the knowing. “Open book,” he had told her, but he hadn’t the slightest clue how or why.

The longer he knew her, the more he felt he had always known her. Of course, he never voiced this to Emma. He knew his Swan – he knew if he said such a thing it would terrify her. So it wasn’t until the night of their honeymoon, that he voiced it in the dark.

“From the moment we met, I have felt . . . like I’ve always known you.”

Emma surprised him with her response. “You too?” she asked, propping her chin on his chest. He could just make out the green of her eyes by the light from the bedside lamp. There was no fear there, not anymore.

Killian gazed down at her, confused. “You mean you’ve felt that way too?” At her answering nod, he asked, “How long?”

Emma snuggled into his side before answering. “Since the first day we met. I looked into your eyes and thought that I knew you from somewhere. I mean – I’m not saying it was love at first sight or anything-“ he could almost feel her roll her eyes at that notion – “it was more like a vague ‘I’ve seen this guy somewhere before,’ know what I mean?”

Killian chuckled, “Exactly.”

They both fell silent for a moment, contemplating what it might mean. Emma finally scooted herself up to nuzzle his neck. She murmured against his skin, “It’s probably just the whole true love thing.” How far his Swan had come to speak of it so matter-of- factly!

“Hmmm, “he sighed, as she lightly kissed his jaw. “And pray tell, love, exactly what does that mean?”

“You know,” she murmured as she lazily kissed a path across his face, “two souls destined to be together. Kindred spirits who recognized one another immediately, despite all reason. That sort of thing.”

And that was what they decided. The soul mates cliché. After all, what other explanation could there be?

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Nine year old Killian Jones stuck his head slowly out of the hatch leading below decks, so only his eyes were visible through a narrow crack. He searched carefully to be sure no other sailors were above deck. He knew, of course, that there was a sailor on watch up in the crow’s nest. But he would be scanning the skies and sea, not looking down below at the deck. Seeing that the coast was clear, Killian quietly slipped out on deck, padding silently to the railing. The wood was cool beneath his bare feet. He leaned over the railing and down at the water below. It was a calm night. He could even see the moon and a few stars reflected in the almost glassy surface of the sea, the image broken only occasionally by the undulating waves. He looked up at the velvet sky and reveled at the sight of so many stars twinkling down at him. He breathed in deeply the familiar scents: salt, seaweed, and damp wood. He listened to the familiar sounds of the ocean and the creaking and rocking of the ship. He felt the cool night air gently fan his flushed cheeks. This was what he needed so desperately after being cooped up for three whole days below deck. Even if the slight saltiness of the air stung his right cheek just a bit.

“Killian Jones! What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

Slowly and reluctantly, Killian turned to face his older brother. Liam stood there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, looking far older than his 13 years.

“I just needed some fresh air, brother!” Killian tried to explain. “I couldn’t stay down there in the hold one more minute.”

“Little brother,” Liam said on a sigh, putting his hand gently on Killian’s shoulder, “you had a raging fever for three full days. The last thing you need is to stand out here, breathing in the deadly night vapors. You must remain abed until you get your strength back.”

Liam tipped Killian’s head up, then turned it to the side to look at his cheek. The deep cut there was still a bright, angry red, but the wound was no longer weeping. Killian saw the regret and guilt in his brother’s eyes.

“It could be worse, I suppose,” Liam grumbled, dropping his hand from Killian’s face. “You’ll have a scar, though.”

Killian decided that the best course of action was to make light of it. “Well, every good sailor worth his salt needs a scar,” he said brightly. Then he poked Liam in the chest, “And what do you expect? I was stitched up by a 13 year old.”

Liam winced. Okay, maybe it was too soon for that joke. But according to Cook, Liam may have saved Killian’s life.

“Well,” Liam replied, poking his little brother in return, “you should have kept your mouth shut, as usual, and refrained from setting off the Captain.”

Now it was Killian’s turn to wince. Liam was constantly berating him for his sass. “Just keep your mouth shut, Killian, and do as your told,” was the seemingly endless refrain from his brother’s lips. And it was true, Killian’s mouth was constantly getting him into trouble. He just couldn’t seem to help himself. A few days ago, the Captain had sent his youngest cabin boy below decks for some more rum. Unbeknownst to Killian, the barrel he had filled the decanter from was not properly sealed. Salt water had seeped in and ruined the rum. The Captain had taken a large gulp and promptly spit it out across his desk. He had roared at Killian, blaming him. Killian should have taken the scolding meekly and gone to get rum from the second barrel, but instead, as usual, he had opened his mouth.

“As drunk as you are, I’m surprised you noticed.”

The Captain had roared even louder and would have knocked his desk over if it hadn’t been nailed down. Instead he threw the glass tumbler in his hand right at Killian, who had ducked just in time. The tumbler smashed into pieces against the wall directly behind his head (really, who uses glass tumblers on a ship? was Killian’s ridiculous thought). Ducking hadn’t prevented a shard of glass from slicing across his cheek. The Captain screamed at him to get out, face red and eyes bulging. Killian had stumbled out, putting a hand to his stinging cheek. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood. He wiped his bloody hand on his tunic, and reached up to his cheek again. By the time he stumbled on deck to his brother, his face and cheek were slick with blood again.

“Liam,” was all he managed to say before he swayed on his feet.

The rest was a blur. Killian remembered opening his eyes to find himself laid out on the table in the galley, Liam and the bos’un, Starkey, arguing.

“Cook’s gone to shore for supplies.” Starkey hissed, “What’ll we do?”

“I don’t know,” Liam hissed back, as if he didn’t want his brother to hear him. “Go to shore and look for him, or a healer.”

“Captain was adamant that his slaves stay on board. He may do worse to me and to Killian if we disobey. Besides, Killian needs help NOW. Look at how much blood –“

“Then what’ll you do?”

“Get Cook’s kit. I’ve seen him do it before . . . “

“Have you lost your senses?” Starkey practically screeched. “You’re just a boy!”

“Exactly!” Liam shot back. “I need you to hold him down. I’m not strong enough.”

Then Killian saw Starkey and Liam bending over him. Starkey and the Cook had taken a liking to Liam and Killian a year ago when their father had left. The boys trusted both men with their lives.

Starkey took Killian by the shoulders. He thought he remembered tears in the man’s eyes, but surely he had imagined that. “I’m sorry son.” Then the pain. Killian writhed and screamed. Then everything went dark.

When Killian awoke, he was in his hammock in the hold. He was shivering all over, and no matter how tightly he wrapped his scant blanket around him, he felt chilled. For three days, he drifted in and out of consciousness. He heard snippets of conversation around him.

“The wound’s turned septic.”

“I was a fool thinking I could stitch him up!”

“You did what you had to, my boy.”

“The Captain is demanding to know where his second cabin boy is. He has work he needs him to do.”

“Then stall, damn it!”

Concerned faces floated in front of him. Someone made him lift his head to drink some water. Extra blankets were tucked around him. It wasn’t until later that he realized his brother, Starkey, and Cook and given him there’s. As the fever raged higher, he started to hallucinate. Calling out to his mother. To his father. And most frightening of all, was the hallucination he had of Liam. His brother was weeping, begging him not to leave him alone. It had to be a hallucination. Liam never cried.

But by some miracle, this morning Killian had awoke sweating and hot underneath the pile of blankets. When Cook had come down to check on him, Killian had asked for something to eat. Cook laid a gnarled hand against Killian’s forehead, and then whooped with joy. He had never seen the man do anything but scowl. He tried to get up, but Cook, and later Liam, insisted he was too weak. The two of them and Starkey were covering for him; the Captain had been too drunk to know his smallest sailor was missing.

And that was why, on this night, Killian had snuck out of his hammock as soon as the rest of the crew was asleep. Staying in bed all day when he had all his wits about him was about to drive him mad. It was dark, stuffy, and hot in the hold with absolutely nothing to do. And now he had no doubt Liam would send him right back down there.

So Killian couldn’t believe it when Liam said, “Ok little brother, we’ll stay up her for a bit.” When he saw Killian’s grin, he hastily added, “But not for long, and you’re sitting down.”

Killian couldn’t argue with that, he was swaying a bit where he stood. The two boys sat side by side with their backs to the railing and looked up at the night sky.

“There’s a man in the moon tonight,” Liam pointed out. Killian looked up. Sure enough, there was the outline of a man’s face. “Do you remember what mother used to say about the man in the moon?”

Killian shook his head and sighed, “No brother, I sometimes fear I am forgetting her completely.”

Liam gave him a small, reassuring smile, “It’s not surprising. You were only seven when she passed. But I can tell you stories. That way, you won’t forget her.”

“Ok,” Killian agreed with a smile.

Liam cleared his throat. “She always said to give your problems to the man in the moon. But you had to make sure to tell him everything, so he had all the pieces. Like a puzzle. Then, while you were sleeping, he would work out the problem for you.”

Killian tilted his head up to gaze at the moon. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated. He knew he could remember his mother if he thought hard enough. He had to. Slowly, an image came to his mind. A smile that would light up a room. A turned up nose with a dusting of freckles. He saw her face, still a little fuzzy, leaning over him and wiping his brow. He was four or five and was ill. He saw curls framing the pretty face. Light brown, like his brother. Her eyes? He concentrated harder. They seemed to change color. Crystal blue when she was laughing. A stormy gray when she was arguing with his father. Sea green as she sang him to sleep.

“She sang us to sleep!” Killian exclaimed triumphantly. “And told us bedtime stories!”

Liam laughed softly, “That’s right. She had a beautiful voice. Her favorite was –“ and Liam began to sing haltingly:

Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly, Lavender’s green; When I am king, dilly, dilly, You shall be queen Roses are red, dilly, dilly, Lavender’s blue. If you will have me, dilly, dilly, I will have you.

The song came back to Killian and he joined in. “I’ll say, little brother!” Liam exclaimed. “It seems you’ve inherited her singing voice.”

The boys continued gazing at the sky silently, lost in their own thoughts of their mother.

“Do you remember what you always asked her at the end of every story she told?” Liam finally broke the silence.

Killian laughed, “Yes I do. No matter what it was about, giants, kracken, true love’s kiss, I would always ask her if she believed in it.”

“And she would always say, ‘I believe in everything.’”

“Aye,” Killian scoffed, “and you would always roll your eyes and say it was silly.”

“Not you,” Liam chuckled, poking his ribs, “you would always loudly proclaim, ‘Then I believe in everything too!’ Momma’s boy.”

“Hey!” Killian protested, but he didn’t really mind his brother’s ribbing too much. His mother used to always says she couldn’t believe two brothers could be so different. Now that his memory had been jogged, more flooded into his mind. The clearest memory was the day his mother died. His father was away, he couldn’t remember where or why, but Elizabeth Jones had insisted on her boys being allowed in the sick room. Their father was a respected merchant, able to afford a housekeeper for his modest home. Little did they know he had gambled it all away. Agnes, the housekeeper, had tried to argue with Elizabeth, but to no avail. She dutifully brought the boys to their mother.

Elizabeth spoke to Liam first, asking him to look after Killian. “You are all he has left,” she had said. He now realized his mother had known their father wouldn’t stick around. She gave Liam a ring with a garnet stone, hanging on a chain. She slipped it over Liam’s head, saying, “This ring will always bring you safely home.” Liam had nodded solemnly and vowed that Killian would always be safe.

“Killian,” Elizabeth had called, gesturing to her youngest son. Killian stepped to her bedside, unable to stop the tears that flowed down his cheeks. Liam was strong, but he was weak. “Killian, you have more love in your little finger than most people have in their whole bodies. When you love, you love fiercely, with all that you are. That is rare, my son. And it is strength. It will make you a hero some day.” At this, she took Killian’s freckled face in her hands. “No matter what happens, Killian Jones, no matter what mistakes you make – and we all make some – never forget that you are destined to do heroic things. Promise me you won’t forget.”

“I won’t mother,” Killian had sobbed. Then he had thrown his arms around her. Elizabeth had held him close, drawing Liam into the hug as well.

“Forgive me boys, for leaving you.” She wept. “I don’t want to.”

“Of course we forgive you, mother,” they had both declared. And the next morning, she was gone.

Killian looked up now at the man in the moon. He didn’t have a problem for him, not exactly. More a question. He realized he had broken his promise to his mother. He had already forgotten that he could be a hero. Because his mother was the only one who had ever seen that in him. So, with her gone, he had forgotten. Liam loved him, he knew without a doubt. But he always had the nagging feeling he was letting his brother down. “Why are you always getting into trouble, Killian?” “Can’t you keep your thoughts to yourself, Killian?” It was always something. So Killian Jones looked up at the moon and asked one single question as he closed his eyes.

“Will anyone ever see me the way my mother did?”

**************************************

Killian’s eyes blinked open. He must have fallen asleep on deck. But – something wasn’t right. The surface against his cheek was smooth and cold, not rough and damply warm like the wood of the ship. Someone was saying something to him. . .

“Sweetie . . . come on, sweetie, you need to wake up and get off the bus.”

Wait . . . what? Everything was off. The woman’s strange accent, calling him sweetie, and . . . what the bloody hell was a bus?

Killian jolted up, looking frantically around him. In front of him was a plump woman, middle aged, holding what looked like a rectangle of smooth wood.

“Wh-where am I?” he stuttered. He looked around him – it was all so strange. Two rows of leather benches with an aisle down the middle. And the entire thing was encased in some kind of metal? What was this place?

The woman in front of him chuckled. “You’re at the Valentine’s Day party. All the other children are already inside. You must have fallen asleep.” She looked down at her piece of wood. “Now, what is your name? I thought we had counted everyone.”

“K-Killian J-Jones.”

The woman frowned. “I don’t see your name here.” She shrugged and looked at him with sympathy. Killian wasn’t sure, but it seemed like she was staring at the cut on his cheek. “You must be a brand new arrival. I’ll add your name – go on inside.”

Killian didn’t know what else to do but obey her. He walked down the aisle towards a door at the front of the vehicle he was in. He guessed it was a vehicle. The seat at the very front had a wheel in front of it. He walked down the steps and onto a smooth, black surface. It was all so strange. He looked behind him at the vehicle he had just exited. Large and bright yellow with four enormous wheels. Bizarre. There were words painted across the side in black. He was grateful that Liam had continued his reading instruction after his mother passed. “Baptist Children’s Home.” A children’s home. A nice way of saying orphanage. Great. He was apparently in a strange realm, separated from Liam, and in an orphanage.

“Better hurry up,” the woman behind him admonished. “The food will all be gone.”

Food! Well, at least he wouldn’t starve. He could certainly eat before trying to get back home. Even Liam couldn’t argue with that. He saw a strip of white through a small green lawn. A path. It lead up to two large doors. From the doors and windows of the strange looking building poured a bright, glaring light. What type of lanterns did they have in this realm to make light that blinding? As he walked nearer to the doors and the light, he could see the kind of clothes he was wearing. His trousers were made of a stiff, blue material. The shirt he was wearing was thin, but soft, with strange pictures. The pictures were like nothing he had ever seen, but he could read the words “Star Wars.” That was odd. Over the thin shirt, he wore a short coat made of similar fabric as the trousers. He shivered a little as the wind blew. Seems orphans wore coats too thin in any realm.

Walking into the bright room was overwhelming. At first Killian didn’t know where to look. Glittering, paper hearts of red and pink were hanging on almost every surface of the room. Children of various ages were all around the room. Some were talking, some were playing what looked like carnival games, and at one long table children sat with more paper hearts, rubbing them with colored sticks. But what finally arrested Killian’s attention was the table draped in pink and red tablecloths in the dead center of the room. Food! He tried to calm himself as he approached the table, but he had never seen so many confections in his life! His mother used to make them shortcake with strawberries for their birthdays, but this! The table was a rainbow of color he had never seen on food before. Cakes, pastries, cookies, and . . . was that chocolate?! Pirates would raid ships carrying chocolate, vanilla, or cinnamon, but in this realm such things must be as abundant as sea water. Why else would they serve such rich foods to mere orphans?

Killian almost couldn’t decide what to try first when his eyes landed on a large, heart shaped cookie. The last one on its tray. It wasn’t just the enormous size of the cookie; it was the fact that it was completely covered in pink frosting. Killian had never had frosting in his life. He had seen wealthy patrons buy cakes with frosting from bakeries, but had never tasted it. He picked up the large cookie almost reverently, his mouth watering.

“Hey, kid! You ain’t eatin’ that! It’s mine!”

Before Killian knew what was happening an older boy who towered over him had shoved Killian and snatched the cookie from him. Killian clenched his fists as he watched the boy cram the cookie in his mouth. The bully laughed, his gaping mouth filled with pink frosting and mashed cookie. Killian felt the anger rising, and all reason flee. The boy was huge, but so help him . . .

“I can split mine.”

The soft, kind voice stopped Killian in his tracks. Forgetting his rage, he turned around to see a girl, not much younger than him, standing there with a heart shaped cookie extended to him in her small hand. She was dressed in a similar manner to every other child in the room: the blue trousers, the cotton shirt (with a glittery pink heart), the thin jacket, but she may as well have been the only one in the room wearing a ball gown the way Killian’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. He had seen Liam get tongue tied over girls, but it had never happened to Killian. Until now.

The girl laughed – a wonderful sound. Then she rolled her green eyes and cocked her blonde head. “So ya want the cookie or what?”

Oh, she was a tough lass. He could tell already. Speak, you idiot! Killian thought to himself, but all he could do was nod.

The girl carefully broke the cookie in two, handing half to Killian. Killian ate his half slowly, relishing every sweet bite. It was almost sickening it was so sweet. Almost. Then he shyly licked his lips and his fingers, watching the little girl. She laughed again.

“Didn’t get many sweets at your last home, huh?” She said. “Same here. My last place it was nothing but bologna sandwiches. That I had to make myself, of course. Guy spent all the state’s money on beer. My name’s Emma Swan. What’s yours?”

He hadn’t understood half of what she said. But he had sense enough to remember what Liam had told him about ladies. Whether a duchess or a slave, you should always be a gentleman when greeting a lady. So Killian took Emma’s hand, bowed over it and said, “Killian Jones, m’lady.”

Emma giggled. “You talk funny!” Killian’s face fell until she said, huge smile on her face, “But I like it!” Then he was elated. This Swan girl would be the death of him.

“You must be new,” she continued. “Is the cut why you’re here?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand . . . “

“This home, you don’t stay long. It’s for emergencies. You don’t have to be embarrassed.” Emma rolled up her sleeve and showed Killian her wrist. On it was a scar, puckered and red. “Bologna and beer guy. From his cigarette.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but he saw a little wetness in her eyes.

Killian gently patted his cheek. “Glass of rum,” he told Emma with a smile, “he threw it at my head.”

She smiled back and he just stood there stupidly. “I’m nine,” he finally said, “how old are you?”

“Seven,” she answered, then abruptly grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s do something! The craft table is lame, totally for babies. But they’ve got some good games.”

Emma dragged him to a table with little darts laid across it. On the wall behind the table was a dartboard surrounded by shelves of stuffed toys. Emma picked up a dart and showed it to Killian.

“Suction cup darts. Don’t want to give the screwed up orphans real ones,” then she laughed. Seven and already cynical. Yeah, Killian could relate.

She leaned closer to him to whisper in his ear, and he thought his heart might pound right out of his chest. “I want the duck. Think I can do it?”

“I think you could do anything,” he whispered back. And he meant it.

He watched as Emma picked up a dart and concentrated on the board, her tongue sticking adorably out of the corner of her mouth. The first dart didn’t even make it to the board, and the second dart hit two circles from the edge. Emma blew out her breath and narrowed her eyes as she threw the third dart. Close, but no bullseye. Emma sighed.

“Sorry kid, you only get three tries,” said the volunteer.

“Figures,” Emma grumbled.

“I’ll give it a try,” Killian said. The volunteer gave him his three darts. Killian tried to ignore the fact that Emma was watching him, but it was bloody hard to ignore her. His first throw hit the edge of the board and bounced off crazily. He breathed in deeply on his second. He had to win that duck for Emma! His second dart hit on the very edge of the bullseye and he heard Emma cheer beside him. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated on the bullseye, tossed the dart and …

“We have a winner!” exclaimed the volunteer. “Now, what would you like, little boy?”

Killian didn’t hesitate. “The duck.”

Killian thought it was obvious that he had played for Emma, but when he turned to her and placed the duck in her hands, her mouth dropped open.

“You won this for me?” she whispered, hugging the duck to her chest.

“Of course I did,” Killian said with a shrug. Why wouldn’t he? He cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. He scratched behind his ear. “I mean, you did share your cookie.”

Suddenly Emma was grabbing his hand and dragging him along. Again. Not that he minded. He would follow this angel anywhere. The two of them slipped out of a side door and then down a dark hallway. Emma stopped in front of a heavy oak door.

“We’re not supposed to be here,” Emma whispered conspiratorially. “You just got here, so you haven’t come to the Bible lessons yet, huh.”

“Bible lessons?” Killian asked, once again confused.

“Yeah,” Emma whispered back. “They’re not so bad. They read you a story, you make a lame craft, play a game. There’s cookies and juice. That’s the best part.”

The only thing Killian really understood was the part about cookies and juice. Food was certainly easy to come by in this realm.

“I mean, it’s the deal with this place. Bible lessons every Wednesday afternoon. But they take us places. I’m hoping I’m still here next week. We’re going to the movies. I’ve never been.”

Once again, Killian had no idea what Emma was talking about. “So what’s behind the door?” Kilian asked.

“Oh, right,” Emma laughed. “The first Wednesday I came here, I had to go to the bathroom. And on my way back to class, I saw colored light shining through the little window here in this door. I was curious, so I snuck in. And . . . it’s sort of my special place. I wanted to show it to you.”

Emma was the one who seemed shy now, chewing on her bottom lip. Killian smiled at her,” I would be honored to see it, Swan.” Emma giggled, and somehow he knew he was “talking funny” again.

Emma pushed open the heavy door and looked around to make sure the coast was clear. Then she silently motioned for Killian to follow her. When he followed Emma into the room, he gasped. This must be a cathedral! he thought. Each side of the massive room was lined with exquisite stained glass windows. The room was dark, but the moonlight poured through the colorful windows, spilling colored light onto the carpeted floors. “I see why this is your special place,” he breathed.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” Emma agreed, “but I have a special spot. Come on.”

And she was pulling him along again. Did Emma Swan ever slow down? Killian didn’t think so. She stopped at the end of a pew and plopped down on the carpeted floor, her back against the wood. She yanked Killian’s hand to sit down next to her. Just a foot in front of them was a beautiful scene in stained glass. It was a man (the same man who seemed to be in a lot of the glass pictures) seated on a rock, surrounded by children. The man’s face seemed gentle and kind, and the children looked at him with smiles on their faces. One little boy sat on his lap, and he had placed his hand on a little girl’s head. At the bottom of the window, in the stained glass, were the words, “Let the little children come unto me.”

“Who is that man?” Killian asked.

“Jesus,” Emma answered. “You’ll hear a lot about him in this place, trust me.”

“Is he a god of this realm?”

More giggling from Emma. “Realm? Yeah, they say he’s god.”

“So you worship this god?” Killian asked, trying to understand fully why this was her special place.

“No,” Emma sighed, “I mean, I don’t really know what to think about him. But the first night I came in here, we had just heard this story. Jesus was really important, so they tried to send the kids away, they thought he was too busy. But Jesus said the kids could come and actually told the grown-ups they ought to be more like the kids.”

“Really?” Killian asked, surprised. Liam was always telling him to grow up.

“Yeah, I know. And then I saw this window, and I don’t know, it’s just – the Bible teacher said Jesus meant that kids believe stuff real easy.” Emma pulled her knees up to her chest. “But I’m only seven, and it’s getting harder and harder to believe in stuff, you know?”

Killian thought of his mother. I believe in everything. What had happened to the little boy who would echo those words back to her? Killian sighed, “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“And in this home, they keep going on and on about how Jesus cares for the orphans. And I want to believe that someone cares – anyone – but it’s just so hard. So when I come in here and look at this window, I imagine those children are orphans. And for one moment, I don’t know. I feel . . . I feel . . .”

“Hope?” Killian supplied.

Emma looked at him and smiled. “Yeah.” Then she took Killian completely by surprise and rested her head on his shoulder. They both gazed up at the window for a while in silence, and then he heard Emma softly snoring. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, and suddenly felt very, very tired . . .

************************************

“Killian! Killian, wake up!”

Suddenly, Killian felt someone shaking him. He felt damp wood beneath him and smelled salty air. He groaned. His head felt full of cotton and his limbs felt heavy.

“Killian,” Liam spoke urgently, “we fell asleep, and now you’re burning up. I’ve got to get you back to bed.”

Liam began yanking Killian to his feet, and Killian didn’t like it. Not one bit. “Swan?” he asked. He was on his feet now. Liam tried to pick Killian up, but he wasn’t strong enough. Killian swayed and leaned into his brother.

“I don’t know what you’re babbling about, little brother, now walk.”

“The – the swan. With golden hair. She was a little angel.”

Liam chuckled. “You’re fever is definitely back. You’re hallucinating. Besides, you said girls were a nuisance.”

“Not this one,” Killian mumbled as Liam helped him below and then into his hammock. “Bloody brilliant she was. Amazing.”

But Liam was right, his fever was back. Killian spent two more days in a feverish fog, and when he woke up he assumed the blonde angel and her strange realm had all been a dream. And as hundreds of years ground away at his heart and mind, even the dream faded almost into oblivion.

*************************

Killian and Emma knew that the other parents of Storybrooke were probably rolling their eyes at the idea of taking an 8 month old to a Valentine’s Day party. Although none of them should have been surprised. As orphans, they had missed out on so much. They were determined to give their little girl everything they had missed out on. Children’s events at the public library were one of them.

Belle had always been a natural at running the library, but after becoming a mother she took it to a whole other level. She convinced Regina to approve the addition of a children’s wing, and she kept said wing abuzz with activity. Storytime, laptime, babytime, summer reading programs, and countless special events were a welcome improvement over research to defeat monsters and secret war councils. In the peace that had descended on Storybrooke, the Jones family were Belle’s number one customers. They brought baby Elsa to babytime every Wednesday morning, alternating weeks. Belle had tried not to chuckle the first time Killian brought her. Elsa couldn’t even hold her head up yet, so when they sang the song about riding a pony to town, Killian couldn’t bounce her on his knee like he was supposed to. So really, was a Valentine’s Day party that crazy of an idea?

Granted, Elsa drooled, babbled, and squealed her way through storytime about two rabbits who try to outdo each other with declarations of love. Emma had basically done the craft for her after Elsa tried to eat the glue stick. And now Killian was trying to figure out how to balance a plate of food with his good hand while holding Elsa in his other arm. He was trying to grab Emma’s attention across the room where she was talking to Snow, but with no luck. Suddenly, Elsa made a grab for Killian’s plate, taking a heart shaped frosted cookie into both her chubby hands. She squished the cooked delightedly and then tried to cram the confection into her mouth with both fists.

“Oy, little pirate lass!” Killian pouted. “That was your Papa’s cookie!”

Killian heard a chuckle behind him. He turned to see Emma, holding another cookie out to him.

“Wanna split mine?”

And suddenly, just like that, they both remembered. They both gasped.

“It was you!” Emma exclaimed first.

“I thought it was a dream.”

“I thought you were an imaginary friend,” Emma laughed. She stepped forward and drew her thumb across the scar on his cheek. “Rum, huh? Figures.”

Killian grinned. His hands were full, so he gestured with his head to her wrist. “So that’s why you got the tattoo?”

“Yeah,” Emma said while rubbing her wrist, “the scar never did go away.”

They just stood there staring into one another’s eyes, both their hearts breaking for the little lost girl and the little lost boy.

“But how?” Emma asked, shaking her head.

“I don’t know,” Killian shrugged. “All I know is, I fell asleep asking the man in the moon a question. And the next thing I knew . . .”

“Seriously?” Emma rolled her eyes. “The man in the moon? What did you ask him?”

“If anyone would ever see me the way my mother did.”

Emma cocked her head to one side. “Mmhm, and how did she see you?”

“A boy who could be a hero one day.” Killian’s smile lit up his face as he leaned down to kiss his Swan. But before the kiss could get really good, two chubby hands patted Killian’s cheek, covering him in pink frosting. Killian pulled back, both he and Emma laughing. Emma reached up with a napkin to wipe the frosting out of Killian’s scruff.

“What happened to the duck?” Killian asked. “It didn’t earn a place in your memory box?”

Emma laughed. “You’ll never believe this. Another kid stole it.”

“Stole it?”

"Yeah, the same kid who stole your cookie.”

Killian rolled his eyes. “Figures. We were truly made for each other Swan.” And he bent to kiss her againn.

#cs ff #self promo sunday #little!emma #little!killian #hope for the orphans #my first fic

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risingqueen2 · 4 years

Text

A Fallen Star [Malec]

A Fallen Star Ao3 Link Square Filled: Free Space Ship: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Rating: G

Tags: Shadowhunterbingo, Stardust inspired, Alec Lightwood is a Star, Warlock Magnus Bane, Shadowhunter Alec Lightwood, parents Malec, baby Max, Good Dad Alec Lightwood Summary: Magnus thought he knew everything there was to know about Alec Lightwood. Created for @shadowhunterbingo

“Mmm, darling, your son is crying.” Magnus smacked his lips together as he shuffled around on his side of the bed, hand reaching out to nudge his husband awake.

“Oh he’s my son now is he?” Alec sounded amused and wide awake, something that always made no sense to the warlock.

“Like you always say, before the sun rises he’s your kid,” Magnus muttered as he squinted at the dark outline of his husband who was rising from his side of the bed, not even rubbing at his eyes, in fact, he looked more awake than he did at noon.

“I think Maxie maybe a night owl like me when he grows up, you’ll never get your beauty sleep then,” Alec said teasingly as he dropped a gentle kiss to Magnus’ forehead, chucking when Magnus made a pleased noise as his eyes closed fully.

Magnus knew he would be up to join his husband soon, he could never stay away from either of them for long and his heart swelled with the thought that his husband and son were a mere room away. It was something he never thought he would have in his lifetime, but here he was and it was still something he was getting used to.

Magnus felt his lips turning up as a soft humming reached his ears, Alexander had done that since the first night they had gotten Max. He had hummed and sang their baby boy to sleep and each time he did so, Max was out like a light minutes later.

Magnus swung himself out of bed, snapping his fingers to have his robe and slippers appear on his body to ward off the cold of the hardwood floor. Magnus shuffled over the flooring and settled against the doorframe of Max’s room, a smile on his face as he watched his Shadowhunter sway back and forth, cradling Max’s swaddled body close to his chest as he softly sang.

Magnus jolted forward, his mouth dropping and eyes widening as he watched in silence as his husband, his very much a Shadowhunter husband began to glow a soft silver colour. His whole body was radiating it, but Alec didn’t seem to notice as he sang and smiled down at his son who was bundled in his arms.

“Alexander, you’re… You’re…” Magnus whispered unable to move from his place in the doorway.

“Glowing, technically I’m shining.” Alec settled Max who was peacefully slumbering again against his shoulder, still swaying as he turned to smile at his husband.

“Why are you shining?” Magnus whispered, as his mind raced to find out the cause and why Alec seemed so calm about this.

“That’s what I do Magnus, it’s what happens when I am truly and completely happy,” Alec whispered as he planted a kiss to Max’s soft hair before he settled Max back down in his crib. Alec glowed a bit brighter as he watched Max squirm and then settle down to sleep.

Alec grabbed his husband’s hand and tugged him out of their son’s room and then through the living room out onto the loft’s balcony.

“I don’t understand,” Magnus said slowly as Alec leaned against the railing of the balcony with his head tilted up towards the sky, the sky that was unusually clear that night and the stars twinkled from their place around the moon.

“I honestly thought you knew, being a Warlock and all. I never tried to hide it away from you, no matter what my family told me to do, well other than Izzy, she loved seeing me shine.” Alec said sound far away as the light from the night sky seemed to reflect in his hazel eyes.

“I’m afraid you may have to spell it out for me darling,” Magnus stepped closer, interest piped and suddenly all he wanted to do was increase the shine that was slowly fading from Alec’s body.

“Robert and Maryse’s firstborn was Izzy,” Alec said quietly and Magnus startled slightly in confusion.

“I came into their life when mom was pregnant with Izzy,” Alec said almost fondly as he thought back to when Izzy was a baby. “How is that possible?” Magnus whispered and latched his fingers onto Alec’s hand on reflex and relaxed slightly when the fading glow increased.

“Valentine was a twisted man as you well know, he had a lot of obsessions and I happen to be one of them. I fell by accident, I got to close and I fell. He was the one who tracked me and found me; Maryse got me out and took me into her family on the condition I looked after her unborn child. I agreed and became Alexander Lightwood, changing my appearance to match them and everything fell into place and I became their first child. Who I was before wasn’t something to ever mentioned or talked about again. I managed to keep a lid on it for so long, but now… I can’t stop it anymore.” Alec whispered as he tightened his grip on his husband’s hand.

“You said you fell… You got to close?” Magnus whispered a few moments later, trying to absorb this new information.

“I know you can figure it out Magnus, what shines?” Alec turned to face his husband; still radiating silver light in a way that had Magnus’ magic was reacting intensely. Suddenly all at once, it hit Magnus like a train and he regained his magic back.

“A star,”

Alec just smiled serenely before looking back up into the night sky that was full of stars while Magnus stared at him.

“I love a star,” Magnus murmured in amazement.

“I’m still me, just a bit more… Shiny.” Alec’s lips twitched as he suppressed a laugh at Magnus’ amazement.

“Well you know me, I’m a sucker for pretty, shiny things.” Magnus wrapped his arms around his husband, tugging him down for a kiss. A kiss that was full of love and acceptance for what Alec truly was. When their kiss broke, Magnus smirked when he saw the pink flush on Alec’s pale cheeks and the way the halo of silver light was borderline blinding now.

“Oh yes, I do think I can get used to this.” Magnus purred before pulling Alec down in for another kiss.

#Shadowhunterbingo #shadowhunter #malec #Stardust inspired #stardust AU #magnus bane/alec lightwood #Max Lightwood Bane #Alec Lightwood is a star #warlock Magnus Bane #Shadowhunter Alec Lightwood #AU #parents Malec #married Malc #good dad Alec Lightwood #risingqueen2

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justanoutlawfic · 4 years

Text

Walk Me A Home: A Charming Family Fic

Summary: Snow White, David, Emma and Neal joined Regina in aiding Henry with his fight. They remained in the new Enchanted Forest happily, until a new curse ruined everything.

Mary Margaret Aarons would do anything to provide for her son. Unfortunately in doing so, she's missed out on him putting his life at risk. When David Shepherd becomes his mentor, she's skeptical at first but soon finds herself falling in love.

If only life were ever that easy.

My take on "If Snowing, Emma and "Baby Neal" were there when S7's curse was cast”. They say they'll always find each other, but Drizella's curse made it a lot harder for families to do so.

The main priority in this fic is Snowing & The Charming Family. However, there will be aspects of the Charming-Mills Family as that is my kryptonite and they're all in one town. There will also be Wish!Hook, Alice and Rumple (the latter of whom seems like an ass in the first chapter but remember, his cursed persona was). Tags are your friends. Mentions of prostitution, stripping, hard financial times, past alcohol abuse and more. I will tag appropriately as we go. If there's anything you want to see or you're confused about, just let me know.

Also on AO3/FF

Tryna stand up on my own two feet

This conversation ain't comin' easily

And darling, I know it's getting late

So what do you say we leave this place?

Walk me home in the dead of night

I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm

So say you'll stay with me tonight

'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside-Pink

“And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

― Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars

“A pirate, a princess, Snow White, a shepherd, Jack and the beanstalk and a savior,” a sick smile developed over Drizella’s face as she looked over the group. “Ooh, how will I ever defeat you?”

Snow held her arrow out towards the sorceress.”You won’t win, Drizella. I’ve faced witches a lot more powerful than you.”

Drizella let out a bitter laugh. “ Oh, Snow White. So cute, so full of hope...and so forgetting I’ve learned a thing or two from your former enemy.”

“You want a witch fight?” Zelena challenged. “Happy to oblige.”

Regina, Emma and Zelena had fireballs ready, while Jack, Ella, Killian and David had their swords drawn. Drizella looked between them, shaking her head.

“You see, I’m not casting this curse…” She looked over at Regina. “You are.”

Regina’s brows furrowed. Her hand stayed raised, not letting herself become a target. “What?”

Drizella snapped her fingers towards one of the other witches. “Show her.”

They disappeared into the night and returned a few moments later planked with someone between them. The person wore a black cloak with a hood that covered their head. Drizella strutted over and ripped it off, revealing Henry. His face was drenched with sweat, his mouth tied up. Regina and Emma’s fireballs instantly went out, Ella’s sword clanged to the ground, the three of them running to him. The two witches holding onto him let him fall to the ground with a thud. David, Killian, Jack, Zelena and Snow kept their weapons drawn, with clear worry written across their face. Snow couldn’t keep her eyes off her grandson as Regina and Ella pulled the cloth from around his mouth. He began coughing violently.

“Henry! Baby!” Ella cried out.

Regina looked up at Drizella, tears in her eyes. Snow wanted nothing more than to pull her into her arms and never let go. “What did you do to him?!?”

“What witches do best. I poisoned him.”

Regina tried to fix her son. Snow watched as she used every spell she knew. She even attempted true love’s kiss, Ella and Emma did too. It all fell short.

“It’s not working!” Regina shouted.

Drizella stepped forward. “And it's not going to. As a matter of fact, the only thing that can is a trip to a land without magic.”

“Don’t do this, Drizella,” Emma pleaded.

“Curses take time,” Snow pointed out.

Regina nodded as Ella clutched Henry closer to her. “And ingredients.”

“Yes, eight in fact. And I have seven right here.” She gestured to the spider web in the ground. Seven of the lines lit up as the wind blustered around them. “The only one I'm missing the most important one, and, of course, the hardest to find is magic from a witch who crushed the heart of the thing she loves most.”

Regina grasped her eyes closed and Snow could feel David’s hand fall through hers. They had thought they were done paying the price for Regina’s curse. Yet, here they were. She was the only way to save her son, their grandson. It was never going to not be apart of them.

“So Regina,” Drizella said. “What'll it be? My curse.” Henry started coughing more violently and Ella cuddled him closer. A choked sob escaped Snow’s lips. “Or his life?”

There was a still silence on the mountain top. Occasionally, Henry let out a strangle cough and Ella would soothe him, but for the most part, Regina stared at her son. Snow White thought of her son and great-granddaughter. They were with Tiana elsewhere in the castle. They were safe, for now. But what would happen to Lucy if she lost her father? What would happen to their family? She didn’t want another curse. She didn’t want to be apart from her family again.

At the same time, she couldn’t let her grandson die.

She looked at David. His eyes were pained, but they didn’t need words to say what they knew in their hearts. He agreed. She spared him a kiss, knowing it may be their last for a very long time.

Snow kept her arrow pointed at Drizella and moved closer to her friend, dropping to her knees beside her and taking her hand. Regina looked up at her, then back at Ella and Emma. The three of them nodded. Snow’s hand slipped through her daughter’s to comfort her and Emma squeezed it. Tears squeezed down her face as she looked down at her son. Snow knew that she’d do this for Regina if she could. They all would. Unfortunately, it was a price no one else could pay. Regina drew a deep breath, before looking back at her former student.

“Fine.” Regina’s voice was quiet, resigned. Take away her son and she was broken. Without him, she’d be lost. Snow knew that, and she’d do anything to save her grandchild for that reason alone. “I’ll do it.”

“Regina!” Zelena’s shrill voice rang out as Regina moved to walk towards Drizella. “You can’t!”

“Zelena, move.”

“This is not what he wants!” “He can’t very well say what he wants, can he!” Emma thundered. Snow squeezed her hand tighter.

Killian took a step forward. “Would you not do the same for Robin? I know I would for Alice?”

That seemed to resonate with Zelena. She bit her lip and stepped to the side, allowing her sister to move forward. Snow looked back at her daughter, who was holding onto Henry’s arm. He was apologizing, actually apologizing to Ella for not being able to stop this. The tears fell down Snow’s face as Ella and Emma tried to assure him that this wasn’t his fault. He had done all he could. Lucy and Neal were safe, they were going to be okay.

Regina completed the ritual and the purple smoke began to ripple. Ella and Emma rose to the ground, both walking to Snow and David.

“We’re going to find our way back to you,” David promised his daughter. He pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tight. Snow joined in on the hug. “Remember that. It’s always back to each other, then to you.”

Emma nodded, letting out a tiny sob. “I love you, Dad, Mom.”

“We love you too, sweetie,” Snow whispered.

Was this their fate? To always be separated?

Ella tapped Snow on the shoulder and the two stepped off to the side. “Under the first curse, you didn’t have Emma,” she shouted over the swirling wind.

“Well, no.”

“And you’re probably not going to have Neal now.”

Snow bit her lip. She didn’t want to think of her son being alone. She wanted to hope he would be okay, that somehow, they would be together. “I have to have hope. He’s with Lucy and Tiana. Maybe he and Lucy...they’ll end up with us.”

“They’re just kids.” Ella looked back at her husband before returning her eyes to her grandmother-in-law. “How are we supposed to be there for them if we don’t know who they are?”

Snow wanted to give another hope speech. She wanted to ease her granddaughter-in-law’s fears. Yet, as she looked back at the grown daughter she never got to raise and the grandson that had been torn from his moms time and time again, she couldn’t find any. She had nearly lost Neal once when he was a baby. When she got him back, she vowed she’d never let him go again.

Where would he go? Would he be okay? Would he and Lucy be orphans like Emma had been?

“Excuse me.”

The two women turned back to find Killian standing there. It was still odd to see the man who looked so much like the Captain Hook she knew back in Storybrooke, while also being so different. This one was gentler, kinder and clearly had more to live for. Becoming a father had truly changed his life.

“Take this.” He slipped a porcelain elephant into Ella’s hand. “Each of you hold onto an end. If you do that...you’ll be with your children.”

Snow stared at him, unsure of what to say. Instead, she gave him a quick hug and took hold of the other end. Regina and Zelena stood together, Jack not far behind them. Snow wasn’t sure, but she thought he was staring at the two strangely. Almost...with a glare. She didn’t have much time to give it a second thought. Her eyes trained on her daughter and husband. Their hands were intertwined, prepared for the curse together. Snow’s last thought before the curse hit was her son.

“I’m gonna see you soon, baby.”

On the far end of Hyperion Heights, there’s a run down two family house. It hasn’t been painted in over a decade and the blue has long since turned grey. Windows are crooked and bird shit is encrusted on the paneling. The porch railing is loose, a lawsuit waiting to happen if the landlord even cared.

On one half, there’s the Aarons. It’s the longest home they’ve been in. Chipped alphabet magnets hold up old pictures on the fridge because they are too poor to afford frames. They show a little boy growing into an angsty teen with longer dark hair. The cabinets have a couple boxes of cereal, a bag of Oreos and a six pack of Kraft mac and cheese. The fridge is just as bare bones with milk for the boy, coffee creamer for his mom.

A kitchen table that’s never used anymore sits there with four chairs, as if there was meant to be more people. The living room has an uncomfortable rose couch and a TV with a large back. The rooms are chaotic messes. His filled with clothes, comic books and a stash of money he hopes his mother never finds. Hers with blankets, cigarettes and a closet full of clothes she also never wants him to discover. He’s just a little boy. He doesn’t need to know what she does to pay rent every month.

It’s a house full of secrets. A house full of tension. A house with vague memories of good times...but they can’t exactly the last time they just sat down and smiled.

Jake knew his mother was gone when he woke up that morning. A note outside his door informed him that Roni could swing an extra waitress, so she’d work the morning shift. She had another shift at the other bar in another suburb of Seattle later that night. He’d be alone.

Remember to lock the door when you get home. Remy told me there was a break-in last week. I love you-Mom.

Jake got his backpack together, throwing in the latest Vonnegut he borrowed from the library. He downed some Cheerios, doing the dishes before he left. His feet carried him past the bus stop, throwing up his black hood as he dodged the police station. The last thing he needs is a run-in with Detective Weaver and his lovely band of assholes.

Another turn and he’s arrived. The bodega on Third Street. A place to buy cigarettes, off-brand snacks and delicious breakfast sandwiches.

“You were nearly late,” Asher tells him.

“Sorry, foot traffic.”

“You should get a bike.”

Jake had to hold back a laugh. All his money goes to helping pay the bills. Not that his mom’s noticed the landlord stopped hounding her for rent. She really thinks he’s giving her more time. Jake’s lucky. Not that he knows what he’ll do when report card season comes out.

The bodega is good work. He makes good money, under the table. Asher believed him when he said he was 18 and didn’t ask for ID. Jake knew deep down, maybe his boss felt sorry for him. Maybe he knew that Jake was really 15 and assumed he was just a drop out. Everyone always says he has such a baby face. Though who knows, maybe he actually grew out of it. At the very least, he gets an employee discount and can help put food in the fridge.

It’s not like he missed every day of school anyway. When he started out, it was supposed to be a weekend job. Then Asher asked him to work a Monday morning and rent was coming up, he could hear his mom begging for an extension on the phone. So, Jake said yes. One Monday morning lead to two and soon he was working on Mondays and Wednesdays, and picking up any shifts Asher needed. He went to school when he could. Well, even when he didn’t have work, the teachers were annoyed with his lack of attendance and his grades so that made him skip. But he tried anyway.

Around 12, Asher gave him his break and he headed into the alleyway. He pulled out his book and his discounted egg and cheese sandwich to nibble on. He’s only a few pages in when he hears the cough. It’s one he knows well by now. Jake dropped the sandwich, but kept the book. The last thing they can afford is a library late fee.

He ran for as long as he could. His lungs hurt and his stomach felt winded. Jake wanted to stop, but he could feel the cop on his tail.

“Fuck,” he mumbled as he tried to pull into another alleyway.

He didn’t see the rock and went flying. He landed face first in some brick wall. The pain filled his face and he cursed himself internally. That was going to leave a mark. How would he explain that one to his mom?

“Are you alright, son?”

That soft voice wasn’t Weaver. As he was helped to his feet, Jake found himself face to face with a new cop. He had dark hair and gentle blue eyes. Despite his now swelling eye, Jake could make out “Rogers” on his name badge.

“‘m fine,” he mumbled. “I gotta get back to work.” “Afraid we can’t allow that.” Now that, was Weaver. Jake groaned. “C’mon, Jacob.”

“Fuck off.”

“Love the tact.” He gruffly pulled him away from Weaver. “Why aren’t school?”

Jake jutted out his upper lip and could see blood. “None of your business.”

Weaver rolled his eyes. “Fine, don’t talk to me. I’ll just call Mary Margaret.”

Jake’s resolve softened. “She’s at work, please don’t bother her with this…”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you decided to skip school. Again.”

Weaver started to drag him off, but Jake wormed his way out of his grip.

“I know where the station is by now,” he bit at him. “I can follow.”

Jake kept a good distance behind the cops as they headed on foot to the nearby staiton. God, this was the last thing his mother needed. As they pulled out of the alleway, he could hear Rogers pleading for him at least.

“Maybe we could just drop the lad at school, make him promise not to do this again.”

“Detective, I’ve known Jake Aarons a number of years. This is what works and it barely does. His mother is the only person who will get through to him.”

Maybe it was just his swollen eye, but Jake swore he saw some doubt in Rogers as the latter pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

#walk me home verse #charming family #snowing #snow white #david charming #neal charming #emma swan #regina mills #henry mills #ella mills #lucy mills #wish hook #rumpelstiltskin #ouat #once upon a time

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cookiemunster10 · 5 years

Text

Holdin’ Her

A/N: Here it is Nonnie!! The Second Part of the Dutch X Pregnant Reader! I really enjoyed writing this! ❤️ it made me tear up a little, hope you enjoy it.

Warning(s): Fluff!!!, and Mentions of Child Birth

Pairing(s): Dutch Van Der Linde x Pregnant Reader

Summary: It was a few months later, you were doing very well in your pregnancy. You were Nine Months very close to the end of your due date. You were nervous, but mostly excited to get to be finally meeting the little one whose been kicking you for nine months. Dutch was more of the nervous one, he didn’t know how to be a father.

—————————-❤️❤️———————————-------------------------------------

You were doing very well with this pregnancy, even though this was your first. Dutch would not let you lift a finger around camp, you were starting to get annoyed with this because you always helped around so sitting around and doing nothing it killed you. By the time you hit Nine months in your pregnancy the gang had moved out towards Rhodes, into a abandoned Plantation House named Shady Belle.

You were around 9 months, you were getting bigger and bigger each day and it showed when you would waddle around the camp but mostly you would be sitting around the table, or laying down in the cot or sitting underneath the tree. But you were scared and nervous at the same time because this was your first child, as well you were excited too finally going to meet the child you and Dutch created.

Dutch was as nervous as you were, he had really never been a father before so this was all new to him. But he was happy, he was happy to call you his own and to have a child with you. He was going to try his best, to be the best Father he could to his Son/Daughter.

You were currently sitting underneath a tree watching through the swamp, While rubbing your pregnant belly and lost in your train you never heard the shuffle of feet come up.

“Y/N..Darling your suppose to be resting up in the bed..” Dutch spoke, as he sat down next to you.

You jumped, “Jesus..Dutch scared the shit out of me..please don’t do that.” you chuckled, “Sorry..i was lost in thought i never heard you coming.”

Dutch chuckled, “it’s A’right darlin’..i’m sorry that i scared you.”

He smiled, while placing his hand on your rounded belly that was carrying his child. You smiled and placed your hand on top of his, both of you looking into each others. You couldn’t help but fall with this man even more than you already did, he made your heart swell with affection.

“i just couldn’t rest..sweetheart..it’s getting really uncomfortable to lay down.” you smiled to him softly, making him chuckle.

“I know Y/N..I know my love..just you nervous.” he spoke softly,

“Of course i am..and i know you are..” you smiled as you placed a hand on his cheek. Dutch scuffed, and shook his head with a deep laugh.

“Me..Nervous..I’m..not..”

You gave him a look, “Dutch..” you spoke softly, “it’s okay to be nervous..”

He sighed, “I am very scared and nervous..this..you’re giving me something new i had never faced before..a child..look at me Y/N..I am an outlaw on the run..how can i be a father to our child..especially a good one.”

You smiled softly to your lover, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. You knew he was going to be a great father, look how he was with Jack and how he basically raised Arthur since he was 15.

“Dutch Van Der Linde..Listen here..you will be a great father, i promise you that..it will come naturally and plus..look at you with Jack..and look how you raised Arthur since he was 15 years old..so do you trust me when i say..that you’re going to make a great father to our child.” You spoke softly, as you felt the baby move and kick.

“Y/N..the baby..it kicked.” He grinned as wide as he could, he was happy to feel the baby kick.

“see even our child know’s you’re going to be a great father to him/her.”

Dutch pulled you close to him, and kissed you with passion while he stilled had his hand on your belly. He just couldn’t stop touching your belly, he was happy to have an actual family. The gang was his family too, but not like you and his child. He moved down in front of you as he kissed your belly.

“I can’t wait to see you..my son..” he whispered to your belly, making you giggle.

You ran a hand down the side of his face, “how do you know it’s a boy.,”

“Just have a Van Der LInde Feelin’ that it is.” he smirked up with a gentle smile playing on his lips.

“can you help me up darlin’..im very tried your child has worn me out today..”

He nodded, “of course my lady..”

Dutch helped you up, easily making you grunt due to how rounded you were. It was sometimes hard to get up due to your pregnant belly. Dutch walked besides you helping when you needed. When walking, towards the house Abigail and Karen smiled at you and helped you too.

“When are you going to have that baby..” Karen Smiled, making you laugh.

“Soon..i hope Karen..Very soon..” you smiled.

“You know..right before Jack was born..I had sex with John..and it helped a lot..so why don’t you have sex with Dutch to help move things along.” Abigail spoke with a smirk playing on her lips, when Dutch coughed from behind you.

“I’m Right here ladies..if you must know..” he was flustered by what Abigail had just stated. They were helping you up steps at this point in time, you were just a blushing.

“i mean..we haven’t tried..but i mean..we could.” you smirked with a giggle, making the ladies laugh and making Dutch give you a look.

You finally made it up the steps, and into the big room that you and Dutch shared. They helped you onto the bed, and smiled to the two women.

“thank you ladies..but Dutch can take it from here.”

Abigail and Karen smiled and laughed as they said their goodbyes to the mother to be, and to the Father to be..Dutch sighed while he shut the door. You giggled when you laid back in bed watching Dutch remove his vest and shirt. You bit your lip as you watched your lover removed the rest of his clothes. Dutch came over and laid down besides you and held you close to him with his arm wrapped around you having his hand on your belly, While your hand on was on top of his.

“I love you Y/N.” he whispered into your ear.

You smiled softly, as you both drifted to sleep, “i love you too Dutch.”

///

Later that night, you woke up to the starts of small cramps but being you, you had just brushed it off thinking it was false Contractions. You slowly moved around feeling for Dutch but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You sighed as you moved around, but felt another sharp pain this time it was lower. Again you never thought anything of it, you winced and got up slowly and waddled over to the door and opening it.

You held unto the railing, as you walked down the steps. You then soon felt Another sharp pain, you gasped.

“Jesus..it’s not time yet..” You took a deep breath and closed your eyes before continuing down the steps.

You heard the others singing and laughing and having a great ole time outside by the campfire seeing Dutch smiling and laughing while smoking his cigars. You seen Karen coming through the door, she looked up and seen you on the steps soon she was besides you.

“Y/N..you need to rest..you haven’t been sleeping right.”

You nodded your head, “yeah..but i’ve be-.” you were cut off with a another sharp pain this time it was lower.

Karen held you up, “Y/N..”

Just then Karen and you felt something wet splash on the floor, It was your water it had broke. It was time, It was time for the birth of your and Dutch’s baby. You took a deep breath and looked to her.

“Karen..Will..You..Go..Get Abigail..Dutch..” you said in between deep breath’s.

Karen nodded, “Of course..”

You leaned over the railing having your head relax on it, Karen ran out to the others out of breath.

“Abigail..It’s Y/N...It’s time.” Karen looked to the dark haired woman, who stood up quickly.

“Where is she..”

“She’s on the step..she was..i take it was looking for Dutch.” Karen looked over to the gang leader.

Dutch quickly jumped up and ran in side the house with Abigail, Tagging along behind their trail, was Karen and Miss Grimshaw. Abigail was the first in seeing you on the step’s taking deep slow breaths. Dutch then came in, his nervousness shot up, he was about to become a father.

‘”lets get her up into the bed..come on Y/N..” Abigail spoke softly, which you nodded.

Abigail and Dutch helped you back up and onto your feet and back up the stairs. Dutch laid you down on the bed as Abigail helped you with your undergarments and covered the bottom half of you. Abigail sat at the end of you, pushing up the blanket, checking on you while Dutch sat up at the top of the bed brushing your hair back, and holding your hand.

“You ready sweetheart..”He smiled down at you kissing your lips softly

You kissed back, “Of course darling..i’m ready as i could ever be..”

Few Hours Later..

A Few Hours Later, You laid there all sweaty, and tears stained cheeks as you held your baby girl. Dutch couldn’t believe it, he had a daughter. He starred at the two women that shared his heart, he loved them dearly.

Abigail left after cleaning you and your baby girl up, leaving you and Dutch having family time with you baby girl.

You smiled up at your lover, who was wiping away his tears. You leaned up and kissed him softly on the lips. You just couldn’t believe it, You and Dutch had a baby girl, who he was going to be super protective of.

“Dutch..” you softly whispered to him, “what are we going to name her.”

Dutch smiled as he sat besides her, moving pieces of hair out of her face and moved them behind her ear, “How about..Alexandra..” he smiled.

You giggled, “i love that..Sweetheart.,” You looked down at the baby in your arm’s as you smiled and softly whispered to her., “Hi..baby girl..”

The baby started squirm in your arms, and let out a tiny yawn while opening her eyes a tiny bit and then re closed them and went back to sleep. You and Dutch giggled softly. You watched your lovers face as he watched his daughter.

“You want to hold her..Handsome..i promise..you won’t hurt her.” you smiled softly, as you handed Alexandra to Dutch, he just grinned.

Dutch grinned with a soft smile, with a few tears of happiness escaping his eyes. He looked over his daughter as he held her, looking at the small patch of black hair on her head, and the tiny button nose and the pouty lips.

“She looks like you darlin.” he smiled softly

“and she looks like you too sweetheart..” you yawned softly,

“go to bed sweetheart..if she starts to fuss when she’s hungry..i’ll wake you okay.” he whispered softly with a smile playing on his lips.

You just nodded your head with a smile, and closed your eyes drifting off to sleep. Dutch sat next you in the chair with his daughter in his arm’s whispering to her all the things he was going to do. But you happened to catch the ending which made your heart melt.

“Alexandra..I promise..i’ll be a good daddy..and to protect you when you get hurt..along with all your uncles and aunt’s..I love you my Precious..” He smiled softly, as he started to rock her.

You were so very happy to have a family now with the man that you love. You knew deep down inside of you that dutch was going to make a good father and so far he was. Just now..you didn’t know that he planned to marry you..for you to take his last name, but for right now the focus was on you and His Daughter.

#Dutch Van Der Linde #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #red dead redemption 2 #Red Dead Redmption #red dead redemption x reader #Red Dead Redemption fans #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fandom

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eclecticminded · 5 years

Text

Professor Barba part eight

@ottosuricato asked: More Professor Barba???? Pleaseeeee

Of course!! Hope you like!

Other parts

It’s winter break and you need to get away.

Warnings: Sex. Cursing I think? Food and alcohol mention.

Words:1676

Tags: @southsiderepresent @glimmerglittergirl @madpanda75 @southern-magnolia @katmstanton @esparza-army @sweetsummertime99 @obfuscateyummy @lifeisbetterwithbarba @lyssa1385 @hux-me-up @bowieisawizard @sleepylunarwolf @mrsrafaelbarba anyone else ask!

Also I have a Kofi (link in blog description) if anyone wants to donate!

With winter break in full swing, you and Rafael were freer to see each other. He already had his next semester planned and had all the time in the world for you. You spent most nights at his place because it was further from campus. Right before Christmas you joined him at a party with his old work buddies, finally meeting the rest of the Squad. Noah was on you like white on rice, never wanting to be away from his best friend. When it was time for bed you put him down and spent time with the adults, no one seemed bothered by the age difference. Except maybe Amanda, but she just took time to warm up Sonny assured you.

Rafael assumed you were going home for Christmas, and you didn’t correct him. He spent the day with his mother and you spent it alone in your apartment trying not to cry. You made him promise to let you know when he was home safely, and when he did you showed up shortly after sobbing.

“Cariño? I thought you went home,” he welcomed you into his warm arms and led you to the sofa.

“I couldn’t afford it, not that I’d want to go back there. I’ve told you the horror stories,” you buried your face in his chest and allowed his scent to calm you.

“Why didn’t you tell me, I would have brought you with me to mami’s,” he kissed your temple and played with your hair.

“Didn’t wanna be a bother,” you shrugged.

“You’re not a bother,” he squeezed you tight.

“Can I stay here tonight, don’t wanna be alone anymore today,” you reached for a tissue and wiped your face.

“Of course,” he smiled and you retired for the night, as close as could be even in your sleep.

The next morning you managed to wake up before Rafael, which was rare, but with your insomnia and erratic sleeping pattern it happened sometimes. After starting the coffee, you hopped in the shower. The smell woke him up, and the sound of water drew him to you. He climbed in behind you and scrubbed your back.

“Good morning guapo,” you turned to rinse your back and stole a kiss.

“Morning,” he mumbled, not fully awake yet. You ushered him under the steaming water and massaged his scalp, finding just the spot to make him softly moan in appreciation. His body was next and before you knew it, you were kissing again.

“I like mornings with you,” you beamed and wrapped around his middle.

“Do you have plans for the rest of break,” he asked out of the blue.

“Just spending time with the sexiest man I know,” you purred.

“Oh I have competition, “he teased.

“Only with yourself,” you winked.

“Come away with me,” he lifted your chin to look you in the eyes.

“Where,” you whispered, suddenly aware of how quiet it was.

“Anywhere you want,” he kissed you under the water stream, the morning only just beginning.

When Rafael said “anywhere” he was hoping for crystal clear waters in the Caribbean or Europe. But your lack of passport made that a problem. You put in an application and left for two weeks in California. He’d be back just in time for faculty meetings and you’d be back to get your books.

The very first thing you did was christen the room by fucking on every surface; the bed, sink, shower, chairs, sofa, desk, and even end tables. That was followed by dinner in a small bistro and a long watch on the beach. Rafael kissed you under the stars and it felt like magic. He refused sex on the beach however, insisting it was illegal and he couldn’t be caught like that. You reluctantly agreed and went back to the room.

Most nights it was nice enough that after midnight when people were asleep, you made love on the balcony. Sometimes against the railing overlooking the city. Sometimes in a chair. Once or twice on a pile of blankets and pillows. The city was fun to explore; you rented a car and went on wild adventures. You did the tourist thing, but also went to places only locals knew about.

One night you had dinner at Rafael’s friend Nick’s place. His kids were over, but he insisted the more the merrier. They adored you as much as Noah did, and Rafael started to think about having kids for the first time in his life. You listened to stories about Nick’s new wife and Rafael teased you went heart eyed.

“I love love Rafi, leave me alone,” you stuck your tongue out. Zara wanted to show you a drawing she did and Gil wanted to show off his new video game. When you came back Rafael and Nick were talking in hushed voices, so you went to help with dishes but his wife waved you away.

“What are you two talking about? I hope not me,” you grabbed a couple forgotten dishes to take to the kitchen.

“Maybe we are,” Nick teased.

“Oh shush you,” you rolled your eyes, he was already becoming a good friend, already asking you to watch his kids if they came to New York to visit since they adored you.

“It’s a surprise,” Rafael winked and said his good byes. When you were leaving, he insisted on driving, something he didn’t normally do. You figured it was because you had more to drink than him and didn’t fight it. You didn’t pay much attention, singing along to the radio and holding Rafael’s hand was all you cared about. Until you didn’t recognize anything, too much sand and not enough buildings.

“I think you went the wrong way love,” you looked around and tried to figure out what happened.

“No I didn’t,” he tapped the gps.

“Well my phone says are hotel is in the opposite direction,” you held it up for him to see.

“Not going to the hotel,” he winked.

“Is this when you finally reveal you’re a serial killer and are going to kill me? Is Nick your murder partner? I knew he liked me too easily,” you chuckled.

“Nothing like that,” he pulled into a parking spot near a beach and led you out of the car.

“Which part,” you teased.

“Nick just likes you because you’re likeable,” he rolled his eyes and led you down the beach, your sandals filling with sand.

“I knew you were a serial killer,” you gave up on your shoes and took them off, glass be dammed.

“Then why are you following me,” he checked his phone then dragged you up a path you’d missed.

“Must like you or something,” you shrugged and came to a halt beside him.

“Surprise,” Rafael motioned to a small cave just off the beach hidden away from the main stretch.

“You’re going to murder me in a cave, how romantic,” you pecked his cheek.

“You wanted sex on the beach, I talked to Nick and he suggested this place,” he beamed and excitedly bounded down the small hill.

“You asked Nick the best place to bone me,” you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“Yup! His lovely wife suggested in the water and not on the sand. Says you don’t want sand getting in places it shouldn’t.”

“Fair point,” you stripped down and ran into the water.

“Wait for me,” Rafael struggled with his pants.

“Oh no it’s cold,” you screeched and he had to drag you further in. Just inside the mouth of the cave, it was warmer. Your feet could touch the bottom, the water coming just to your chest. The night sky was illuminated with a full moon as Rafael hungrily kissed you pressed into the cave wall. You stroked him, enjoying the moans slipping from his lips.

“I need you,” he growled and lifted you into his arms, your legs locked behind him and he lowered you down onto his length. His mouth attached to your neck as he rocked in and out of you. Rafael was slow at first, taking his time with you. But soon his instincts took over and he was pounding into you. Your arms wrapped around him to keep from falling but still met him with every thrust.

You came first, screaming his name into the darkness, it echoing around you. Rafael was close behind you with a grunted shout. He sat you back on your feet, and your knees buckled. He caught you and you both laughed. One more lingering kiss and you went back to hotel, thankful there were extra towels in the backseat.

On your last full day in California, you were pouting on the balcony when Rafael returned with coffee. He knew not to press you, instead you enjoyed the sunrise together in silence. When you finally went inside to get dressed, he decided it was time.

“What’s wrong,” he pulled you backwards and tight against him.

“We can be a real couple here,” you hung your head, “I don’t want to return to reality.”

“Me either,” he spun you around and hugged you.

“It’s not fair,” you sighed.

“I uh reviewed the rules,” Rafael leaned back to look down at you, “And there technically isn’t a rule about dating a student.”

“Really,” your eyes lit up.

“I’m not saying we should go around making out in class…but like the dean said, we can be discreet and it will be fine.”

“I love you,” you yanked his head to yours and kissed him passionately, all tongue and teeth.

“I love you too,” Rafael’s eyes sparkled when you broke apart to breathe, “Going home doesn’t change that.”

“It better not,” you wagged your finger in his face and stripped to change.

“Let’s spend the day naked in bed eating room service,” he suggested and threw his clothes to join yours.

“Put that giant tub to use one more time,” you raised your eyebrows suggestively.

“Absolutely,” he tackled you onto the bed, sending you into a fit of giggles.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfic #law and order special victims unit #law and order special victims unit fanfic #law and order special victims unit imagine #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #law and order svu imagine #svu imagine #svu fanfic #mine #my writing

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themadamelibrarian · 5 years

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Breakdown - Part 2 of Mechanics of Love

Written By: @themadamelibrarian & @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Lucifer/Dean Winchester Characters: Lucifer (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Michael (Supernatural) Additional Tags: Alcohol Abuse, Break Up, Make Up, mentions of prior abuse, Bad Anniversaries, fight, depressive state, Age Difference, Lucifer is 30, dean is 18, Confessions of love, self harm tw, Bad Communication, Miscommunication, Domestic dispute, Reconciliation, Mentions of suicide, Mentions of Suicidal ideation, twink!dean, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary: It's been a year since Lucifer started dating Dean, and a personal issue

Notes: Here's part 2 of Mechanics in Love! Madamelibrarian and I hope that you enjoy it! Kind of a doozy, this one is.

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Lucifer took a long pull from his bottle and rested his head in his hands.

Today had been a shit day.

It was the anniversary of Mark’s death, Mark’s mother called and screamed at him, and he had lost two more customers because of his bad temper.

So now, he was sitting home, drinking with the intent on getting drunk, and waiting for Dean to come over.

The only good thing in his life, besides the shop that he can barely keep afloat.

He doesn’t know why Dean was still with him, a year later. He was a grumpy old man with a near failing business; Dean was a handsome young man who should have men lining up. Men that were better for him.

He took another pull of his whiskey. Maybe he should let Dean go.

He drank again. No, he should. Dean has a future. He doesn’t.

But I... I love him.

You can’t love. Dammit, Mark. He drank again, trying to force the demon of his past away. Dean will learn that in time. You can’t love. If you couldn’t love me, it just means you can’t love.

He loved Dean. And that’s why he was going to let him go.

Liar, liar, house on fire, Mark taunted from his memories

“Lucy, I’m home!!” Dean called out happily in his worst Ricky Ricardo impression. The sound of a book bag thumping against the cabinets as he sat it on the floor. Not immediately seeing Lucifer, Dean called out again and started looking around. “You home?”

“Living room,” Lucifer called, his voice slightly slurred as he got up and started walking around. Mark’s voice was still in his head, taunting him just like he used to when they were together.

Dean rounded the corner, smiling but looking tired from a day of long classes and exams. “Celebrating the end of my semester early?” He asked as he kissed Lucifer’s cheek. “I hope it’s not tequila.”

“Gross,” Lucifer said, kissing Dean’s cheek back and holding up the now almost empty bottle of whiskey. He blinked at it, almost confused but shook it away, also trying to get Mark’s voice out of his head. “Had a rough day at the shop. Lost two customers,” he offered by way of explanation.

“That sucks,” Dean replied, not really knowing what to say considering that Lucifer regularly complained about losing customers. “You’ll get more customers or they’ll come back. You’re good at your job. You just need to brush up on the customer service part.”

Lucifer grunted and nodded. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he said. He took another pull from the bottle before offering it to Dean. “When do you find out your grades?”

“In about a week. They only give us a two-week break between semesters, so they have to move fast.” Dean reached out for the bottle with the intention of taking a little nip before he went to take a shower.

“Makes sense,” Lucifer said, relinquishing the bottle.

“I’ll be glad when it’s done. I hate chemistry.” Dean took a long pull from the bottle, draining it of the last swallow. Shuddering at the burning in his throat, he sat the bottle between them.

Lucifer chuckled and gave a nod. “You going to shower before we binge Star Wars?” he asked.

Dean nodded and leaned over, kissing his cheek before saying playfully like he’d done a hundred times before, “We could watch Jeopardy instead. I hear it’s all the rage with people turning 31 and heading toward 40.”

Lucifer clenched his jaw. “That your way of saying you want to be with someone your age?” he asked in a clipped tone. For some reason, the age struck home with him. Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was the day. Maybe it was Mark. For all he knew, it was all three.

“What?” Dean was surprised by how quickly the conversation had turned and sat back, “I was only joking, Luc’. You know, like I always do.”

Lucifer nodded. “Yeah, but oftentimes jokes have truth behind them.” Oh, that was something he learned with Mark. He looked away and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Are you trying to tell me that you think I’m screwing you until I find someone else?” Dean asked incredulously, “That’s fucking nuts. I don’t play head games like that.”

“I don’t know what to think, Dean,” Lucifer said, looking at Dean. “All I know is that there’s a handsome young man with a bright future in my living room who is with an old man like me who has no future.”

Dean let out a sigh and started to stand up, “It’s an Associates in Science, not a Ph.D. And I happen to like the ‘old guy’ in this living room.”

“Oh, why?” Lucifer asked in a disparaging tone. “An inner kink of getting near pedophiles like me and getting your own rocks off?”

“Excuse me?” Dean rounded on Lucifer and stared at him with wide eyes, “Did you just equate our relationship to a Pedo?”

“Nearly was that, wasn’t it, considering I fuckin’ popped your cherry on your eighteenth birthday,” Lucifer snarked. He turned away. “You should leave me.”

Dean’s heart clenched in his chest as he watched Lucifer tear their relationship apart one thread at a time. Thankfully, Dean wasn’t willing to give up that easily and was willing to call his bluff and simply said, “No.”

“Get out, Dean,” Lucifer said in a low voice, staring at the wall. His heart thudded in his chest. He didn’t want to do this. But it was what is best for Dean.

“You don’t want me anymore, is that it? Then be a fucking man about it and say so. Tell me to my face, that you don’t care and that you never want to see me again.” Dean said, his voice shaking slightly as he fought back the urge to scream and rail against the unfairness of this. It was sudden and unexpected and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Lucifer turned and stared at Dean, taking a deep breath. “Leave. Before I destroy your future.” His voice was low and dark.

“That’s martyrdom,” Dean said, taking a step closer. “Say it, Lucifer. Because I’m not breaking up with you over something imagined.”

“GET OUT!” Lucifer roared. “NOW!” He couldn’t take it, couldn’t take Dean’s eagerness to fix this. “Forget about me, Dean. I’m poison.”

Dean couldn’t help but stumble back a step when Lucifer yelled at him, his bottom lip quivering the slightest bit as he refused to cry now. So he did the only thing he had left to do; leave. “Fuck you, Lucifer Alighieri and damn you to hell,” Dean hissed before storming out of the house, snatching his bag on the way and slamming the door hard enough to knock a framed picture off the wall.

.oOo.

“Dean, Lucifer’s missing.”

Michael didn’t want to call Dean. He knew about the breakup, from Lucifer calling him two days later crying about how he screwed up his life. He visited his younger brother every day to try to get him to call Dean, explain everything, but he couldn’t make Lucifer do a damn thing.

And now, Lucifer was missing.

Dean was the only person he could think of. The police weren’t helping, and Gabriel had no clue that Dean even existed.

“I wouldn’t call,” Michael said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “But he’s been missing for two days and when I last talked to him, he was beating himself up over breaking up with you. Please. I understand if you never want to hear from him again, but I just want to get Lucifer the help he needs. And I can’t do that if he’s missing.” He was desperate.

Reluctant wouldn’t be the exact word Dean would use to describe what he was feeling. After he’d left Lucifer’s he’d expected a call within a couple of days. At least an apology for the verbal lashing he’d received even if he never got to see the man again. When he didn’t hear from Lucifer, it crushed Dean. This had been Dean’s first real relationship, or at least it felt like it to him. And now, here was Michael begging him to help a man who’d torn his heart apart. “Have you checked the garage?” Dean asked quietly, cradling his phone against his cheek.

“Four times, I have my own key,” Michael said. “I tore that shop apart. No sign of him and his voicemail reroutes. Says he’s taken sick and won’t be in.” He took a deep breath. “Dean. I want you to know that if you don’t want to help find him, I understand. You’re just my last option because of what happened. But for the record, Lucifer is sorry. He’s just shit at saying it. Something about not deserving anything you give him after this and that sorry won’t make it better. I’ve been trying to get him to at least call you. But, I understand if you don’t want to even hear his name again.”

“A brother saying sorry isn’t the same thing.” Dean looked at the clock and sighed, “Have you tried calling the phone company and having his phone tracked?”

“Yes,” Michael sighed. “Twice now. They keep saying their servers are down or some bullshit. And I know it’s not, but I still felt it was important for you to know.”

Against his better judgment, Dean grabbed his keys and wallet, “Meet me at Ray’s diner and bring Lucifer’s social security number, birthday. I’ll get his location out of the company.”

“I’ll see you in ten,” Michael said before hanging up. Grabbing his wallet and jacket, he ran out of the house and out.”

.oOo.

Lucifer laid curled up on the grass in the quad, stroking the grass softly. He couldn’t help it, the past three months had been Hell. He’d call Dean to apologize and beg for forgiveness but always hung up before he could connect. Drove by the community college to talk to him after class but always chickened out.

“Is this what you wanted, Mark?” he whispered numbly. His voice was rough and hoarse. “For me to be as alone as I made you? For me to feel the same way as you when you stuck the barrel of that gun in your mouth?”

He shivered and curled in tighter on himself.

“There!” Michael said, pointing to where Lucifer was curled in a ball. He leaned back in the passenger’s seat of the Impala, recognizing where Lucifer was and he sighed. “Luka,” he whispered. “Why do you torture yourself like this?”

Dean followed Michael and shut his eyes against the sight of Lucifer laying in the grass. Steeling himself against the surge of emotion at seeing the man he loved like this and stooped down to pick him up in his arms. It was startling to Dean at how much lighter Lucifer felt. “Let’s get him home. Then you can talk all you want.”

Michael nodded and lead them back to the Impala, shaking his head as he did so.

.oOo.

Michael opened the door and got Lucifer and Dean inside, tossing Dean a blanket to put around his quivering older brother before going into the kitchen to grab food for Lucifer. Something light.

The fridge was empty.

Fuck. He went to check the cupboards.

So are the cupboards.

He and Dean pooled some money together and he volunteered to go out to get groceries.

Lucifer was curled up in his armchair and picking at the blanket Michael had put around his shoulders, almost looking like he was expecting to get royally bitched out. He couldn’t believe that Dean was here in his living room, jaw clenched and ready to speak but not sure of the words. He watched Dean carefully, ready for the shitstorm.

Left alone with Lucifer, Dean went to the couch and sat down, not sure how to start at first and then the words just fell out like a confession, “I can’t sleep. Got to used to you calling me. I just lay there all night waiting for a call, but it never comes.”

Lucifer nodded in understanding, before withdrawing his phone and tapping on it before handing it to Dean. It showed that there were so many times that at night, Lucifer would hit the call button but hang up before it connected to Dean’s phone. Several times a night, too. He returned to picking his blanket, never meeting Dean’s eyes.

Dean looked at it silently and stood up suddenly, not wanting to show how much he’s been hurt and to keep his temper, “I tried to date too. But if I actually went out with anyone I’d be miserable. They were too tall, too short, too serious, too soft... I felt like fucking Goldilocks and the three fucking bears. I haven’t even touched myself. Not even a morning jerk to relieve stress. Didn’t seem worth the effort.”

Lucifer flinched when Dean stood up and listened to him, nodding along in agreement. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Dean, knowing how much he’d hurt the younger man and also feeling ashamed at himself. What was he supposed to say, anyway? Like apologizing would work.

“And the sad goddamned thing of it all is that…” Dean stared down at the windowsill he was standing in front of, clutching the edge tightly, “I realized that I love you and you couldn’t even find the balls to love me back. So fuck you, Lucifer. Fuck you for making me love someone that I can’t ever have.”

Lucifer jerked his head up at Dean’s confession, finally finding Dean’s eyes. His own were sunken in and dull, wide in surprise. He clung to himself and looked away when Dean’s gaze turned to intense, inhaling sharply and obviously in distress.

A tear slid down Dean’s cheek and he nodded as if Lucifer’s silence was the answer. His feelings really weren’t reciprocated. Pushing away from the window, Dean gathered up his jacket, “Michael’ll be back soon. I’ve said my piece and I’ll leave you to yours. Thanks for showing this dumb kid a thing or two. It was educational.”

Lucifer got out of his chair and grabbed Dean by the arm and jerked him back and close to him. “I was scared, Dean,” he said. His voice was hoarse. It was obvious that he hadn’t spoken much in the past three months. “I was so fucking scared. I let the best thing that’s ever happened to me walk out of my life and why? Because I was drunk and had a bad day at work. Surely, I thought, there was someone out there better for you. Yes, I had been thinking that I should let you go, but I thought that you didn’t want to be tied to some old man who can barely keep his own shop open because he’s too brash. I haven’t eaten; I haven’t slept. I can barely go through the motions because everything I do reminds me of you. And I fell hard and fast for you, Dean. I think I fell in love with you the moment you walked up to me in the club.” He gave a hollow laugh. “But who could love me? I thought I was a foolish man.” He let go of Dean’s arm, showing he hadn’t even grabbed Dean that hard- he couldn’t. “If you want to leave, I’ll understand. You deserve far better than me.”

Dean was quiet for what seemed like an eternity before he spoke. His voice sounded rough like he was fighting every emotion he had inside him. “Do you want me to stay? Not because you need a nursemaid but because you want me.”

“I need you, because I want you,” Lucifer said. “Please... stay. I need you. I need the stability, the care, the warmth you gave me. I need your smile and I need your simplicity. I need you to hold me and just... just...” He ducked his head down and away, coughing violently. “Be here because you actually give a fuck about me.”

“Then apologize,” Dean said quietly, “You hurt me, Lucifer. More than anyone. Just… say you’re sorry.”

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Lucifer whispered, tears filling his eyes. “Fuck, you have no idea how sorry I am.”

Dean stepped closer to Lucifer and gently took his hand for a moment before pulling him into a hug, “Don’t ever do this to me again. Or I’ll kick your ��Matlock’ watching ass.”

Lucifer gave a watery laugh and buried himself into Dean’s arms, shaking slightly. “I won’t,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Dean. I can’t say it enough.”

“You already have, baby. It’ll take time but we can get back to where we were.” Dean said as he rubbed a hand over his back.

Lucifer coughed again, hugging Dean tightly as he refused to meet Dean’s eyes again. He whispered the apology again, unable to help himself. Tears started trailing down his cheeks, but he was too tired to brush them away.

“Alright. We’re both beat to hell and you need some sleep,” Dean brushed the tears from Lucifer’s face, “Let’s get you in bed, then I’ll make you some soup when Mike gets back. Then I’m going home and you’re going to sleep yourself out.”

Lucifer whimpered very quietly at Dean mentioning leaving, but he nodded all the same, keeping his eyes lowered. “Okay,” he whispered quietly. He was feeling needy, clingy, but he couldn’t be. He shouldn’t be. Dean needed his space after everything that’s happened.

“But by the time Mike gets back and I cook, I doubt I could drive in a straight line,” Dean sighed, “Mind if I crash on your sofa bed?”

Lucifer shook his head, relieved Dean would stay. “No, you can crash here,” he whispered softly. “Let me go get the sheets and blankets from the linen closet.” Slowly, he began to withdraw from Dean’s embrace, still not looking him in the eyes.

“Luc’,” Dean said gently yet firmly, reaching up to cup his cheek, “I’m upset but it doesn’t change something very important.”

Lucifer looked up at the firm voice, looking more like he was Dean’s age at that moment. “What?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

“I love you,” Dean stated simply.

“I love you too,” Lucifer whispered back. “I really do, Dean.” He gave a small smile, the first one since Dean left three months ago before slowly making his way to the linen closet.

As promised, after they made up the sofa bed for Dean, he sat Lucifer in his favorite chair while Dean changed the sheets on Lucifer’s bed and threw the offending linens in the washing machine. When Michael returned with the groceries, he stayed long enough to see them put away and to make sure that Lucifer was going to be alright. Satisfied that the couple wasn’t going to fight any more that night, he went home and left them to the rest of their night. After feeding Lucifer and, as silly as it felt, tucked him into bed, Dean curled up on the sofa and listened to the rain that had started to fall until he drifted off to sleep.

Around four in the morning, Lucifer tiptoed out to the living room and saw that Dean was asleep. Biting his lip, he hesitantly moved towards the lumpy, highly uncomfortable sofa. He rested a hand on the arm, watching Dean sleep. He should go back to his own bed, he really should. But he couldn’t sleep. He needed... he needed to feel Dean’s arms wrapped around him again, or at the very least near him.

Quietly, intent on not disturbing him, Lucifer slid onto the smallest sliver of bed he could, holding his breath. Once he was curled up in his corner, he allowed himself to close his eyes. He just hoped that Dean wouldn’t wake up until the morning. He didn’t want to make Dean even more upset, which was why he hadn’t asked for this earlier.

“What are you doing over there?” Dean grumbled sleepily. He’d half been expecting Lucifer to do this very thing. He’d always been the cuddly type, especially after being upset. He freed the corner of the blankets from under Lucifer and held them open, “Come here.”

Lucifer’s eyes flew open and when Dean extended the invitation, he slid under the covers and into Dean’s personal space, being careful not to disturb him too much. He opened his mouth to apologize, only to find Dean’s finger over his lips.

“No talking until coffee is in my hand and the sun is up,” Dean yawned and wrapped his arm around his waist, wiggling and tugging until they were nestled together like spoons. “Get some sleep. You can’t torture customers half asleep.”

Lucifer nodded and closed his eyes again, falling asleep quickly once he felt Dean nestle back in.

.oOo.

When his phone went off that morning with his alarm, Lucifer groaned and grabbed his phone to turn it off. Yawning, he stretched in Dean’s arms before getting up and padding into the kitchen to make coffee. He slid on one of his sweatshirts as he waited for the coffee to brew, staring out the window. He coughed, loudly, and he scowled at himself as if to scold himself for attempting to wake Dean.

He knew he should get on with his day- go get dressed, make his bed, brush his teeth, make breakfast, but he couldn’t bring himself to fall into the routine again. He hadn’t been able to for a while now. The only good thing about Dean leaving was he didn’t talk. It was too much effort. He did what his customers wanted and only talked to them about cars. There were no insults or anything. A couple of his regulars had noticed how sad he was, but he waved them off with a polite smile and went to back inside Diabolical Motors to do more work and invoices. But everything had reminded him of Dean- watching Dean work on cars, handle people, be polite. The sex they’ve had over his Impala and over Lucifer’s Firebird. Everything hurt, and Lucifer hurt with it.

“Mornin’,” Dean grumbled as he stepped into the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, “Coffee?”

“Yeah,” Lucifer said, breaking his gaze away from the window before reaching into the cupboards for Dean’s favorite mug. Pouring the coffee in, he handed it to Dean with a small, hesitant smile.

Humming appreciatively, he leaned against the counter and took a deep sip. Dean didn’t speak until he was halfway through the mug and turned to the pot to freshen it up. During the silence, he’d had time to observe Lucifer move around the kitchen like a zombie. There was no thought behind the movements, just automatic reactions to his morning ritual. He could understand why Lucifer was depressed and Dean wasn’t under any delusions that their talk last night would magically cure it, but he could help bring him back to the land of the living.

“I was thinking,” Dean said as he topped up his mug and added a dash of milk, “you should shut down the shop for the day. Take a mini-vacation while we figure things out.”

Lucifer nodded. “I could do that,” he said, “no one is picking anything up today.” He reached for his phone and dialed the shop’s voicemail so he could reroute it, taking a sip of his coffee before it clicked for him to record. “This is Lucifer Alighieri, I am unavailable today. If this is an emergency, give me a call on my personal phone, which would be listed on the business card or the shop window. Thank you for understanding.” Hanging up, he returned to his coffee and almost blank staring out the window.

“Luc,” Dean started quietly as he set his mug on the counter and wrapped his arms around him, “go take a shower. I’ll make breakfast.”

“No, I can do it,” Lucifer said softly, resting in Dean’s arms. “It’s no big deal.” He had to prove that he did love Dean, he had to prove that he was going to be good to him.

“You look wiped out still. Let me do breakfast and you can do supper if you’re up to it.” Dean offered with a pat to his stomach, “Besides. You’re kinda stinky.”

Lucifer gave a light blush and nodded. “Okay,” he whispered softly. Slowly withdrawing from Dean, he shuffled down to the bathroom to shower, rubbing at his eyes to get the sleep crumbles out from the corners.

Lucifer came out of the shower about thirty minutes later, scrubbed pink and wearing low rise striped pajama bottoms and a thin white tank top. He smelled breakfast and felt his stomach give a little rumble. He hadn’t eaten much beyond an apple or two a day in three months, with the occasional sandwich or pizza when he felt hungry, and he walked out into the kitchen, still running his fingers through his wet hair and found an absolute spread of food. Eggs, sausage, bacon, pancakes, and a new fresh cup of coffee.

“This looks good,” he said shyly. “Thank you.” His eyes looked a little less sunken and dull when he met Dean’s.

“Bacon cures cancer,” Dean said with a hint of a smile as he flipped the last of the strips frying in the pan, “Dig in. I’ll be finished in just a second.”

Lucifer nodded and slid into his seat, piling his plate with small portions of everything. He knew he had essentially been starving himself, and he didn’t want to overwhelm his system with too much food. He started eating, taking his time to chew his food and drink plenty of coffee in between bites.

Dean joined him with the finished bacon and loaded up a plate of his own, “Why the quad?” he asked without beating about the bush.

Lucifer’s fork clattered to his plate and he hastily picked it up, hoping Dean wouldn’t notice as he took a large mouthful of eggs so he wouldn’t have to answer right away.

His eyes flicked up from his plate in time for Dean to see Lucifer shoving food into his mouth. Shaking his head, Dean drowned his bacon and pancakes in syrup. “You don’t have to tell me. Just seemed an odd place to find you is all.”

Lucifer swallowed his food and sighed, setting his utensils down and drinking a lot of coffee. “You have a right to know,” he said softly. He held his mug close to him, choosing his words carefully. “Do you know why I make a big deal about consent?” he asked softly. “Or why last night when you made a sudden movement, I flinched?”

“I noticed,” Dean said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“The last time I was in a relationship it... wasn’t healthy,” Lucifer admitted. “Final year of college. I was close to graduating, and nearly didn’t because I couldn’t get to my internship on time because of him. Finally, my boss helped me out of the relationship, but the torture persisted until graduation.” He took a deep breath. “The quad was where he shot himself, claiming that he may’ve been holding the gun, but it was my inability to love him that made him pull the trigger.” Biting his lip, he sighed heavily. “Three months ago was the anniversary and... I got a call from his mother. And she said she wished she could have me put in prison, because, well...” he gave a soft laugh, “because I couldn’t love, and that’s why her son was dead.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s been ten years and not a year goes by that I wish that it didn’t end like this. That I’m not in a foul mood or drunk on what is supposed to be the happiest day.”

“So the line about me finding someone my own age was bullshit?” Dean asked quietly, his fork poised over his untouched and cooling food. The more Lucifer told him the less appetite he had.

“Dean, you of all people should’ve known I don’t give a rat’s ass about age unless they’re not legal,” Lucifer chuckled. “I sabotaged us, Dean, and there’s no amount of apologies that I can give that’ll make it right.” He looked down and away, biting his lip. “I don’t want you to go. I didn’t want you to go then, either but I- I...” he felt his voice get caught in his throat and he swallowed.

Laying down his fork, Dean pushed his plate back a few inches and leaned back in his chair to stare at Lucifer. “I don’t want to rehash everything we said. What you said. But if we’re going to make this work you have to realize I am not your ex and I’m not going to live with a drunk. We’ve got too much work to do for you to fall in a damned whiskey bottle.”

“I’m only truly drunk on that day,” Lucifer said honestly, “And I make damn sure of that. I don’t even keep alcohol at home unless you’re coming over, and you know that. I haven’t even gone down to visit Mikey at the bar in three months.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I know you’re not my ex, Dean. God knows I know that. And I’m so thankful every day that you’re not like him.”

“Good,” Dean nodded slowly, “I don’t like being lashed out for something I didn’t have anything to do with.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, “I swear that if he were still alive I’d kick his ass just on principle. He was full of shit.” Dean stood up from his chair and rounded the table, pushing Lucifer’s chair back then sitting in his lap. “You are very loveable and even though you didn’t say it, you’re loving. Otherwise, you’d have hit it and quit it with me a year ago.”

Lucifer buried his face into Dean’s chest, trying to hide the onslaught of tears and emotions that welled up within him from Dean’s little speech. He hiccupped and coughed, still not used to using his voice, and he took a deep breath, trying to right himself as he held Dean close.

“You remember how I was having a hard time figuring out how to tell mom about you?” Dean asked as he pressed his cheek to the top of Lucifer’s head, “Well, I told her after you kicked me out that night and she told me something that stuck with me.”

“Wha’s tha’?” Lucifer asked thickly, his voice obviously tear-stained.

“He’s a fucking idiot and if he hasn’t burned out his last brain cell, he’ll realize what he’s done and come back.” Dean quoted, then laughed, “I’ve never heard her drop the ‘f’ bomb outside of traffic.”

Lucifer gave a watery chuckle and nodded. “Yeah, that’s accurate. Me, the fucking idiot who tried to get rid of the best thing that’s ever happened to him.” He gave a quiet sniffle. “I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“I accept the apology but it might take a little while to forgive you completely, but you know what?” Dean said, sitting back and brushing the hair away from Lucifer’s face.

“What?” Lucifer asked softly, looking up at Dean, gnawing on his lower lip. Tears streaked down his face and it was obvious he was hating himself for what he had done.

“I still love you,” a smirk broke out on Dean’s face as he finished, “Old Scratch.”

Lucifer gave a warm smile and he sniffled. “I love you, too,” he whispered. He looked down, then back up at Dean again, his body relaxing a little bit. It was obvious that he wanted to ask Dean something, but was nervous to from the way he bit his lower lip, a bad habit of his.

Dean noticed the way Lucifer was trying to bite back something, so using his thumb Dean tugged his lip free and gave it a quick kiss, “Spit it out, Luc’.”

Lucifer blinked at the quick kiss and looked up at Dean. “Can... can I kiss you? Please?” he asked softly, licking his lips.

“A proper kiss?” Dean asked as he bumped his nose against Lucifer’s.

Lucifer nodded, bumping his nose against Dean’s back. “Please,” he whispered.

“I’d be really disappointed if you didn’t at some point,” Dean whispered back.

Lucifer leaned in and kissed Dean softly, and his entire body sagged in relief as he gave Dean a chance to reciprocate or draw away.

Circling his arms around Lucifer’s neck, Dean kissed him back tenderly and with a touch of passion.

Lucifer ran his hands up Dean’s sides as he kept kissing him, finally feeling a bit like his old self again, now that he knew that Dean’ wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Dean was content to continue kissing but his stomach had other ideas. It grumbled loudly in protest of being so close to food and not receiving any. Breaking away, Dean genuinely smiled for the first time. “I guess I should eat before my stomach thinks my throat's been slit.”

Lucifer smiled and gave a soft laugh. “Yours and mine both,” he said, giving another quick kiss.

“Then eat your breakfast and stop beating yourself up for five minutes,” Dean said as he slipped out of Lucifer’s hold and went back to his chair.

Lucifer flushed and tucked himself back into his breakfast. “Am I that obvious?” he asked.

“Painfully,” Dean shoved a forkful of pancake into his mouth and winked at the older man. He wasn’t kidding when he said it might take time to get over this bump in the road, but at least Dean felt like they were on the right path for the first time in months.

#Madamelibrarian writing with friends #My Writing #Supernatural #Fanfiction #spn fanfic #ducifer #Dean/Lucifer #Human AU #tw: self half #tw: suicide discussion #Read all the warning tags

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formlesscopycat · 5 years

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Meet Me at the Red Bridge

A Kuroko no Basuke fanfic.

Pairing: Aomine x Kise

Summary: Kuroko Tetsuya means well, he really does. So he takes matters into his own hands and goes into a mission to get his dumb friends, Aomine and Kise, together.

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He’s already fifteen minutes late to their meeting but Daiki doesn’t give a fuck, after all, it’s just his best friends, Tetsu and Satsuki, asking him to hang out with them on their stupid Valentine’s date.

He’s got nothing better to do than mope at home tonight, and honestly, Tetsu and Satsuki are infinitely more tolerable than watching his folks get lovey-dovey with each other. At least with his friends, they just hold hands and blush a lot like fuck, it only makes Daiki gag just a little bit. Add to it the ultimate deal breaker, Tetsu and Satsuki promised him free food, all the burgers and milkshakes that his appetite can hold, no holds barred, all Daiki gets to do is to show up on time.

Tetsu said they’ll wait for Daiki by the arched wooden red bridge overlooking the river, the one they always passed by on their way to and from Teiko.

5pm, sharp! Satsuki had reiterated. But to hell with punctuality, Tetsu and Satsuki should’ve accepted the fact that he, Aomine Daiki, Teiko Ace and future NBA star, had no sense of urgency in his bones.

Past the clearing, Daiki approaches the red bridge with careless, unhurried steps and braces himself for Satsuki’s inevitable tantrum. But instead of teal and pink heads, a splash of gold breaks into Daiki’s vision, the smoothest, softest-looking blond locks he’ll never mistake for anybody else no matter the distance. The other teen has kept his back turned towards Daiki, his lean, athletic frame half-bent against the red-painted railing, seemingly too engrossed with the rushing waters under the bridge that he fails to sense Daiki’s presence drawing near.

“Kise?”

There’s also an obvious mark of astonishment on the blond’s face, that of which on an equal level with Daiki’s, as soon as Kise pivots to face the Teiko Ace. For a moment, Daiki gets lost in his thoughts as he takes in Kise’s appearance, and he wonders how the hell Kise pulls off a look like that, casual yet quite dashing in camel-colored trench coat, layered over a knitted-gray turtleneck and dark skinny jeans.

“A-Aominecchi?” Kise stammers, his amber eyes blown wide like saucers.

“What are you doing here?” Daiki and Kise both ask at the same time. Daiki reflexively looks away out of embarrassment, and from the corners of his eyes, he’d noticed Kise do the same, almost furtively, and Daiki feels his cheeks heat up despite the February chill hanging in the air.

Predictably, it’s Kise who speaks first.

“I’m waiting for Kurokocchi, said he needs to tell me something important.” Kise clears his throat before adding, “I didn’t know you’re coming, too.”

Daiki likes to think that he didn’t just imagine the blush that briefly colored Kise’s cheeks just now.

But still, there’s something quite puzzling in their situation that Daiki can’t put a finger on.

“Huh? But I’m supposed to meet him and Satsuki, no mention of you, either!” Aomine exclaims.

“What?” Kise gets caught up in the confusion, as well. “Wait, you’re like, third-wheeling with Kurokocchi and Momoicchi?”

“Only for free food, yeah.”

“Aominecchi, it’s Valentine’s Day!”

“So?”

“So you ought to give the love birds some privacy!”

“This wasn’t my idea, Tetsu insisted that I tag along! And where the hell are those idiots, anyway?”

“Weird… ain’t likely for Kurokocchi and Momoicchi to run late like this.” With his thumb stroking his chin, Kise looks upwards into the afternoon skies already bathed in purples and oranges.

Daiki nods. Satsuki, at least, should’ve been here already. She hates being late. Daiki squints his eyes and searches around for Tetsu, but there are no traces of the Phantom Sixth Man anywhere. And how come nobody said that Kise’s coming along, too? It’s not likely that they’d just forget to mention this.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Daiki pulls out his phone from his jacket pocket and immediately dials Tetsu’s number. After six rings, Tetsu finally picks up the call.

“Tetsu, where the hell are you and Satsuki?!” Aomine jabbers on the phone.

“Are you with Kise-kun?” Tetsu asks in his usual calm monotone.

“Yes, he’s here! Why didn’t you say he’s coming?”

“Put me on loudspeaker, Aomine-kun. I’d like to speak with you both.”

Still utterly clueless about what Tetsu could be up to, Daiki catches Kise’s eyes first, the latter meeting his gaze with an equally baffled look, before he taps the loudspeaker icon on his phone.

“Kurokocchi, where are you, is everything alright?” Kise inquires worriedly, sliding closer to Daiki as he holds out his phone.

“Listen,” Tetsu’s voice cackles through the phone’s speaker. “You two are huge dumbasses so I decided to make things easier for you both. I’m so fed up with the two of you mooning over each other all the time and not doing anything about it. Aomine-kun, you’re crushing hard on Kise-kun since the first time you saw him, aren’t you? You always like to poke fun at Kise-kun if just to hold his attention all the time. And don’t you dare deny, you secretly collect his photobooks, I knew because I saw the stash under your bed when the Miracles had a sleep over at your house!”

“What the--the fuck are you saying, Tetsu?!” Daiki shouts, already feeling an angry vein bulge and throb on his forehead. Holy shit, did Tetsu actually exposed him like that? He never expected to be pushed off the cliff of humiliation in this manner, his well-kept secrets divulged in the open, right in front of Kise, whose eyes are blown wider than Daiki has ever seen, the blond’s gloved hands are both clapped over his mouth. Daiki swears, he’ll definitely gut Tetsu when he sees him.

“Don’t interrupt, I’m not done yet,” Tetsu continues, with barely a hint of emotion in his voice, which makes it more scathing, somehow. “And you, Kise-kun. You’ve always admired Aomine-kun, too, right? And we’re not talking about his basketball skills. Too many stolen glances don’t escape me during practice.”

At this, Kise gasps and buries his face in both of his hands.

“Always… admired?” Daiki repeats, his mind barely keeping up with the information Tetsu has just revealed. This is certainly new, and Tetsu better not making this shit up or Daiki will hunt him down and kill him again.

“...And you can’t stop talking about ‘Aominecchi this, Aominecchi that’, I’m betting my milkshakes, you keep talking about him in your sleep.”

“Kurokocchi!” Kise lets out a muffled squeak, Daiki assumes the mortification gets too much for him to handle, too.

However, Tetsu, the little shit, is unstoppable. “...But you thought Aomine-kun only likes big-chested girls. Well, you’re wrong, he likes you. A lot. So there, enjoy your date. You can thank me later, bye.”

The line goes silent, as simple as that.

Dead air weighs around the two teens, stifling and awkward.

Daiki’s throat goes dry, he can’t look at Kise, running away and hiding forever in his bedroom seems like the most convenient option and yet, he freezes on the spot, his legs feeling like a ton.

He is going to fucking murder Kuroko Tetsuya.

“Is it--is it true, Aominecchi likes me?” Kise suddenly blurts out, snapping Daiki out of his homicidal thoughts.

“I don’t know what made Tetsu spout that crap. After all the help I gave, this is how he repaid me. What kind of friend is that?”

“Uh, okay.” Kise looks down, as if his boots are the most interesting things to look at in the world.

“Don’t mind him, Tetsu’s probably having a bad case of being a huge-ass prick,” Daiki puts in, waving his hand in the air dismissively.

Pressing his lips together in a tight line, Kise just nods and turns around to go.

“Hey, Kise, where are you going?”

“There’s no point of me being here, Aominecchi. You should go home, too.” Then Kise begins to run, the rows of wood slightly creaking against his steps.

Kise’s reaction makes Daiki’s thoughts swirl and churn into a messy heap but before he figures what to make out of the situation, Daiki’s reflex had pushed him to chase after Kise. As soon as he gains ground, he seizes the blond by the wrist in a tight clasp, the effort makes Kise wince.

Kise whirls around, enabling Daiki to get a good view of his face. He sees the slight trembling of the blond’s lips as he fights the urge to cry and Daiki doesn’t quite understand why, but the sight wrenches his heart painfully.

“Please let go, Aominecchi.”

There are a million things Daiki wants to say but how and where to begin, he has no freaking idea. And there are a million possible ways for things to go downhill from here, but he knows, he knows…

It’s worth a try.

Daiki swallows the lump lodged in his throat, tries to ignore the fluttering of a hundred butterflies in his stomach.

Now or never. Daiki pushes himself to take the leap of faith.

“I never said Tetsu was lying,” Daiki begins. He doesn’t know where his speech will lead him but he’ll say it, anyway. “Yeah, I like you… not as a friend, that is. And maybe I like you a lot, I think about you all the time. That’s a lot, right?”

It all sounds so lame, so absurdly lame, and Daiki had really wished he knew how to properly articulate the flurry of sentiments he’s kept to himself for so long, all coming down to these stupid impulses, how much he likes to look at Kise, and to be around Kise everyday, and how much he thinks about Kise when they’re not together.

The soft rustle of water beneath the red bridge seems to mark the moments slipping away as Daiki waits for Kise’s reaction, fretful and breathless, the silence that chased after Daiki’s words intensifying the roar of his own heartbeat.

Kise blinks, then a smile blooms from his lips. Daiki lets go of his hand.

“Aominecchi really likes me.”

Daiki shrugs his shoulders. It feels strangely pleasant coming from Kise. “‘kay. But what about you?”

“Same.”

“Same, what? Speak clearly, you idiot!”

“You can’t be mean to the person you like, Aominecchi!”

This is so unfair. He wants to hear it from Kise himself. Did Kise make him admit his feelings so he can poke fun at him?

A staring contest commences between them before Kise says quietly, “I always like you, Aominecchi. As in more-than-a-friend like.”

Daiki lets that sink in while steadily holding Kise’s gaze, he lets himself and Kise bask in the quiet comfort of finally letting the truth out.

“So uh, what do we do now?” Daiki is still clueless as to where the revelation will take the two of them, exactly.

“Would you, um, like to go out with me?” Kise asks, amber eyes shining with expectation.

“You mean, date? The two of us?”

“Yes, that.”

“Yeah, sure. I like that, Kise.” Daiki grins as he scratches the back of his head, disbelieving how ridiculously simple things are. They just agreed to date and that had been it. The prospect of going out with Kise starts to toy with his teenage fantasies and for a fleeting moment, an image crosses his mind, of Kise and himself kissing behind the lockers after practice. For sure, he’s earnestly looking forward to that. “We can start right now.”

Kise’s smile grows bigger. “And where would you like to go?”

Daiki thinks for a moment. “How about we hit the movies?” he suggests, vaguely remembering that couples always go to cinemas in those drama series that his mother enjoys. “But I didn’t bring money with me so you’ll have to pay for everything.”

“Eh? How can you leave the house without bringing money?” Kise scowls.

“I told you, Tetsu and Satsuki promised me free food, not a… a boyfriend. Anyway, I’ll let you choose the movie. If you want the latest chick flick, fine.”

“Alright, let’s do this! Be my, um, Valentine?”

Daiki isn’t sure how to respond to that, it’s all happening too fast.

And Kise doesn’t wait for his words, either, he just takes the initiative to entwine his and Daiki’s arms together. For a tad longer, Daiki takes it all in, he lets his eyes linger on the blond because Kise at that moment, is a picture of complete bliss and the ray of sunshine that is his smile brings so much warmth into Daiki’s heart.

-x-

Daiki, admittedly, has no first-hand experience on dating and it annoys him to an extent, that he keeps on second-guessing himself, so he still blames Tetsu for putting him in a tight spot.

In the cinemas, there’s nothing much to choose from except a handful of chick flicks, Daiki thinks he’ll just sleep through it. But the fact that Kise’s right beside him, their elbows touching, the two of them actually sharing the biggest bucket of honey-butter flavored popcorn, keeps Daiki awake and hyper-conscious of even the tiniest of Kise’s gasps all throughout the duration of the film.

After Daiki cleans his fingers with tissue, he debates whether he’ll hold Kise’s hand or put his arm around Kise’s shoulder. Both are equally nice, he thinks, and it’s not an easy choice. Just yesterday, Kise and himself are mere classmates, teammates, one-on-one buddies, yet today, they’ve gone through the friends-to-lovers phase quite fast, it’s a mixture of terrifying, confusing and incredibly wonderful feelings Daiki has to find a name for.

A moment later, Daiki feels Kise shift a little from his seat, gingerly sliding closer to lean his head on Daiki’s shoulder.

“I hope this is okay, Aominecchi,” Kise whispers. In response, Daiki slides his arm around Kise’s shoulders, making more room for the blond to get closer, his head now comfortably rested on the crook of Daiki’s neck. Daiki then puts his chin on top of Kise’s head, he sniffs on Kise’s hair and catches the scent of his shampoo. The freshest strawberries. Daiki likes it so much.

“This is more than okay,” Daiki drawls. He and Kise can stay forever like that.

-x-

It’s dark outside when they left the cinemas. Daiki barely understood the plot of the movie, he hadn’t really paid a lot of attention, but he did quite enjoy the feeling of having Kise’s body pressed against his, the warm, velvet smoothness of Kise’s hand on his skin. He remembers, though, that there are lots of kissing scenes, and now, he wonders if Kise would want to be kissed later and when would be the perfect time execute his plan (though he’s very worried too, that he might not be able to do it properly).

“What’re you thinking, Aominecchi?” Kise peers up at him, curious, honeyed eyes focused on Daiki’s features.

“Nothing,” Daiki replies, looking away.

“Are you thinking of me just now, hmm?” Kise teases with a slight tilt of his head to the side. There’s this mischievous smile playing on the corners of Kise’s lips and fuck, it’s doing these things to his heart again.

Daiki’s hand moves on its own, it has given Kise’s cheek a hard pinch.

“Ouch!” The blond yelps, gently stroking the tender spot on his face.

“That’s what you get for being so cheeky. I was thinking about what to eat.” Daiki feigns a little annoyance, then he pulls Kise’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go to Maji!”

But then Kise easily pouts, refusing to move from his spot. “No way, that’s not even a good place for dates. I’ve got a better idea!”

-x-

Daiki lets himself be dragged through several train stations, no questions asked, since he knows that his new model boyfriend is adept and more experienced at these kind of things for completely obvious reasons.

When they reached their destination, it’s not really what he has in mind so Daiki turns to Kise with raised eyebrows and asks, “What do we do here, exactly?”

“Oh, I’d be perfectly happy walking around and holding hands!” Kise chimes.

They arrived at Hanegi Park at half past seven in the evening, and of course, it’s bursting with people who came to admire the delicate plum blossoms in full bloom at this time of the year. The wide pathway leading towards the lake at the center of the park is lit by hundreds of hanging paper lanterns that gently flutter with the night breeze, bathing everything else under a soft yellow glow. With their hands intertwined, Kise leads Daiki past the countless stalls selling street food, flowers, toys and other trinkets, stopping at intervals to stuff themselves with whatever snack that rouses Daiki’s appetite. Daiki makes Kise buy mozzarella cheese dog, yakitori and several bowls of heart-shaped Umaki while Kise insists on getting taiyaki, on the belief that they bring great happiness, and though Daiki’s really not that fond of the sticky red bean filling, he chooses to humor Kise in the end, who whines and keeps making these cute, stupid faces until Daiki caves in.

-x-

They stroll past the plum orchard, treading through the bushes until they hear the loud pounding of a drum from somewhere. Curious and excited, Kise pulls Daiki to the direction of the drumbeat, making their way across the sea of people while being careful not to step on anybody’s foot. Their quest leads them to a crowded open field, and when Kise realizes what the drum is for, he gets even more restless.

“Calling all couples to come join the game!” A woman in megaphone announces before she swings and pounds on to the large, makeshift percussion before her. “First couple in piggyback to round up a hundred-meter dash across the field wins this little guy over here!” She points to a short girl with dark braided hair, her assistant, carrying a giant stuffed bunny.

And the look on Kise’s face, even before the blond utters a single word, tells Daiki where this leads to, so he makes his case and declares adamantly, “Don’t give me that look, I’m not gonna do that!”

“But Aominecchi, please?” There he goes again, wielding his silly little pout and stupid puppy eyes— rounder, softer under the glow of paper lanterns above their heads—and Daiki is certain that Kise knows the extent of his charms and just how much Daiki is powerless over them.

In defense, Daiki shakes his head and deliberately looks away. “No way, I’m not carrying you around!”

“Oh, but you don’t have to. I’ll carry you!”

“No, never!”

“Pretty, pretty please, Aominecchi, do you really love me?”

“Shut up, Kise!”

“But I want the bunny! I can carry you, I’m fast, we can totally win this!”

Daiki gives Kise a sharp, warning glare but the blond is relentless on his pursuit to play. He gives Daiki a shock, jaws unceremoniously dropping in awe just as Kise crouches in front of him, an imploring demand for Daiki to hop onto his back already.

“C’mon, Aominecchi!”

“You idiot! Get up!” His nostrils flaring, Daiki grumbles and yanks Kise’s upper arm, forcing the blond to stand on his feet despite vehement protests.

“Aominecchi, please I--”

“Shut up, I’ll carry you, I’m so much faster!” He bends his knees and swoops low before Kise.

“Huh?”

“What are you waiting for?” Daiki growls, “get on before I change my mind!”

After Kise throws his arms around Daiki’s shoulders, Daiki gets to his feet, hauling Kise high on his back by grabbing under the blond’s knees before he marches closer to the row of other couples preparing for the relay.

“On your mark!” The gamemaster yells.

“Ah, this is so nice, being carried off by Aominecchi like this,” he hears Kise murmur over his ear.

“This isn’t. You’re heavy, my spine’s about to snap.”

“Get set…”

Kise retaliates by hugging him tighter, nuzzling his face on Daiki’s nape, sending in waves upon waves of warm current to the tips of Daiki’s toes.

“Stop that, do you want us to win or not?”

A round of silvery laughter coming from Kise fills the air while Daiki feigns annoyance as much as he can, blanketing his words under a growl, to save face, because he won’t be caught dead admitting out loud just how much he loves the way Kise is making him feel, Kise’s arm draped around his shoulders, feather-light breath ghosting over the back of his neck, the soft thud of Kise’s heartbeat against his back.

The gamemaster’s whistle goes off, and Daiki’s legs break into a sprint, soon he’s soaring, soaring, towards the finish line, to the edge of his emotions, the wind against his face, Kise laughing behind him, chanting his name over and over, and then nothing else matters in the world except the two of them, earning a piece of heaven tonight, the beginning of many nights and days of making memories together, him and Kise.

-x-

He’s pretty sure it’s Satsuki who tells him that first kisses are like a thunderclap, a kind of explosion that resonates inside you, the crashing of waves against the shore. Tonight, Daiki has found out otherwise--his first kiss is much comparable to the break of dawn, warm sunlight that filters through the leaves of trees, the calm of the morning before everything else stirs to wakefulness. His first kiss hadn’t turned his world upside-down in an exhilarating fanfare as he initially pictured it to be, rather, it quiets everything in him, slowing all senses, all thoughts, to a standstill.

Much to Daiki’s delight, Kise lets himself be kissed more than once, as they sit together on the front step of the Kise house, the huge stuffed bunny perched raggedly beside Kise almost a foot away. And Daiki’s lack of experience poses no problems at all, because Kise has made it so easy, so effortless, as they slot their lips together and the sensation overwhelms Daiki just as he savors everything at once: soft lips pressed on his, shifting ever so carefully with each bated breath, fingers threading through his hair, Kise’s warmth washing over him, vibrant and comforting.

“Aominecchi, we should really thank Kurokocchi for this. I want to hug him and give him all the milkshakes in the world.” Kise tells Daiki when they pulled apart to catch their breath.

“Thank him however you want. But those hugs, they’re all mine from now on. And the kisses.”

“Okay, deal.”

Daiki leans in to kiss his boyfriend again, however, the momentum gets shattered when the front door suddenly bursts open.

“Ryou-chan, it’s cold out here, why don’t you and your boyfriend go inside?” A petite, blond woman in her pyjamas, the splitting image of Kise, peeks through the door and throws the two of them an impish gaze.

The intrusion startles them and both teens stood up at once. “Onee-chan, why are you still awake?”

“Good evening, Onee-san,” Daiki curtsies, bowing his head.

“Aomine-kun’s finally your boyfriend, huh? I’m so glad! I mean, it took you forever to confess!” Kise’s sister gushes, pressing both hands to her cheeks.

“Onee-chan—!”

Yet his sister ignores Kise, commenting, “and is that Aomine-kun’s gift to you? That’s so cute!” She wheezes as she inspects the enormous stuffed animal. Then she steps back, making way for her brother and Daiki to come in. “Get inside, love birds.”

“No, Aominecchi’s already leaving, he needs to catch the last train!”

“Are you sure? We can always set up the extra futon in your room, your boyfriend’s welcome to stay the night!” She teases with a sweet smile that’s almost identical to Kise’s but not quite. Daiki thinks that the smile he comes to love is far more radiant, somehow.

“Shoo, stop embarrassing me in front of my…” Kise awkwardly pauses, and he visibly stiffens. “Aominecchi!”

“Whatever you say, lil bro!” She singsongs, biting back a fierce laugh before she disappears behind the door.

Out of embarrassment, Kise sidles over to Daiki, nestling his forehead into Daiki’s chest to conceal his face. “I’m sorry, Aominecchi, my sister wants me miserable.”

“It’s okay, she’s only worried we’ll both catch a cold.” Daiki’s arms move on its own accord, wrapping Kise in a protective embrace. “You should get inside.”

“Aominecchi is such a sweet boyfriend,” Kise remarks, lifting his flushed face towards Daiki. “Had I known you’re like this, I wouldn’t have waited—“

Daiki shuts him up by closing the distance between their lips.

When Daiki pulls back, Kise still has both of his eyes shut.

“Kurokocchi’s mission is a huge success,” Kise quips, rather dreamily.

“Wow. Thinking of some other guy while kissing me.”

Kise’s eyes snap open. “It isn’t like that! Aominecchi is the only one who has my heart!” And then, “Oh!”

Too abashed by his own words, Kise gasps, clapping both hands over his mouth. An even deeper shade of crimson overtakes his face, Daiki notices with pure amusement, despite the scant amount of light slipping through one of the windows.

“God, that’s too much sap in one night.” Daiki palms his face with a slight shake of his head, a feeble attempt to hide the blush crawling on his own cheeks. “I’m leaving.”

“Alright, just go home.”

“But you were my home.”

“Oh my god, Aominecchi!”

Daiki lets go of Kise, and he runs away as fast as he can, out into the street, his heart drumming so hard it’s swelling with bliss, with inexplicable contentment.

Fuck. He thinks. He’s gone from a brick wall to a disgusting cheeseball in a span of one night.

But Daiki has no regrets.

#aokise #my fanfiction #valentines day #aokise discord #fluff

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