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medicallyinevitable · 3 years

Text

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 14:- Pitiful Pining

Characters:- Ethan Ramsey, Arielle Valentine, Sienna Trinh, Ethan Ramsey, Harper Emery, & Danny Cardinal

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine (F!OC)

Warnings:- Light angst & minor language

Word Count:- 2000+ words

And a special thank you to @akshara16 for pre-reading this chapter💞

Arielle’s PoV:-

You’re reading your 18th, well actually what seems like the 100th text book when someone knocks on your bedroom door. You answer with a more irritated tone then you meant.

"Hey, you okay?" The door opens to reveal Sienna with two mugs in her hands.

"Yeah...”, you try to smile but even you know it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"You don't seem okay though," Sienna says as she comes inside and hands you a mug. You look inside the mug to see what's in it. "I made us some hot chocolate."

You smile, accepting your cup with a genuine thank you as you move, making space for Sienna to sit.

"So what is it?" Sienna asks sitting beside you.

You shake your head, just thinking about the case makes your head spin. "Just a patient’s case. I’ve been running test after test but every result was negative.", you sigh, "and the patient happens to be a major asshole to say the least.", You smile sadly.

"Is it the P. I. T. A?" She asks.

"P. I. T. A?"

"Pain in the ass," she laughs, so do I.

"Oh yeah… Danny mentioned that earlier. That name fits him perfectly!" I respond laughing.

"So what do you think he has?"

"I don't know anymore," you sigh again, "I ran almost as many tests as possible."

"I'm not any expert but maybe if the two of us try to find it, it'll be easier?"

You look at her a bit surprised, "You'll spend your free time diagnosing my patient?"

She smiles at me, "Of course. That's what friends are for right? To help you."

You look at her with a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"You can thank me with strawberry glazed doughnuts once we're finished with this.”, she replies with a silly wink.

"Deal."

You spent the next thirty minutes discussing the symptoms as you catch her up with the diseases you've managed to ruled out.

In between, you notice Sienna acting a bit weird. But whenever you try to bring it up, she deflects your question so you decide not to press further.

Another half an hour goes by with Sienna’s weird antics and you decide you’ve had enough. You close your book and turn towards Sienna. She tries to act like she doesn’t notice you looking at her but eventually she looks up.

"What is it, Sienna? I can tell you want to ask me something but you’re not.”, you say.

"Uh-what?" she asks nervously, her eyes darting around everywhere but you.

"I don't know what you’re talking about."

"Don't lie, Si!," you narrow your eyes.

But she doesn’t budge. You keep asking her until she finally accepts.

“Come on Si, no secrets between us right?”

"Okay fine!... you’re hiding something, Ari,", shesays catching you off guard.

"I-Me? I'm not hiding anything," you try to laugh it off.

Now it's her turn to narrow her eyes. "You are! See, you’re behaving really weird."

"I'm not behaving weird," you oppose.

"You are. And don't you dare deny it again.”, she says in a serious tone.

"You can talk to me, you know that right?” Her voice changes to the caring and concerned tone reserved for her closest friends.

You ponder for a minute, whether or not to tell her. You’ve shared so many secrets with Sienna before, you know she's your best friend and that you trust her completely.

Before you know it, you start blurting out everything. From how Dr. Ramsey assigned you the case, to how he wouldn’t reassign him to someone else, and then your confrontation which was probably the most idiotic thing you could have done. Then how you both shouted at each other, you completely blanking out at the fact that he was your supervisor and could pull you from the program the next second if he wished, and how that lead to triggering a panic attack, then lastly…

“I don’t know how, our faces were mere inches apart, breathing ragged, and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing-“ You throw your hands up, cutting yourself off as you jump up and pace around the room.

“I mean I could have kissed him for God’s sake! What was I even thinking?! If it weren’t for my pager I don’t know what I would’ve done…”

“Woah, calm down Arielle. You need a break.” She makes you sit down and drink a glass of water, waiting until you’ve calmed down a bit.

“Now, tell me what else happened.”

“What?! Nothing else happened!” How Sienna knows you so well eludes you, nonetheless you try to hide it.

“Something else happened, or else you wouldn’t be spiraling this much. I know you Ari, you always have a cool head under any circumstance.”

You sigh, knowing there’s no use in hiding it. “Well I did see something…”

“Go on.”, she says urging you,

“Well it all started after the whole almost kiss thing, my brain was like scrambled eggs and my shift had already ended so I took my car and drove around until I realised I had no idea where I was, and to top that disaster off I was starving…”

———————A few hours before———————

“Ugh, I think I drove all the way to the other side of town. And I’ll have to drive all the way back to the apartment and then start research for Nigel’s treatment again. And I’m hungry because instead of eating lunch, I decided to unleash my wrath of Dr. Terminator. Ohh, can this day get any worse-“ In the midst of your little blabbering session, you spot a classy French cafe across the street.

“Well at least a day this bad always has room for improvement, and right now I’m starving.”, you park your car and head inside.

The smell of roasted coffee and baked buttery goods hits your senses the moment you enter the cafe. The serenity is a nice change of pace compared to always busy and bustling Edenbrook, dimly lighted and decorated with beautiful vintage items.

“At least I won’t bump into anyone here that I know.”, you think as you stand in the queue.

You decide to order a vanilla frappe with drizzled salted caramel and go for a regular chocolate doughnut to satisfy your sweet tooth. After the barista brings your order, you move towards a nice secluded corner and sit down at the table.

You slowly finish your doughnut and coffee, savouring the taste as you gaze out the French style window. You’re about to dispose of your trash when a familiar sweater shirt catches your eye.

“No way…” As you hide your face with a medical journal which you randomly fished out of your purse, you peek over the top to see Dr. Ramsey sitting across…

“Is that Dr. Emery?”, your mind recalls the time when you saw them in a patient’s room, quite cozy with each other. And now they sit a few tables away from you, talking as her hand is over his. You pretend to read your journal as you watch both of the doctors get up and throw away the remains. You follow pursuit and slowly exit the cafe making sure they don’t notice. You stand at the side of your car door and watch as they both edge closer and closer, her hand now on his jaw. Their faces are barely an inch apart now, as he leans in to close the distance.

“That’s- I can’t-“

Not being able to look at them, you get in your car, slamming the door and speed away as fast as you possibly can, ignoring the tears that brim in your eyes.

————————end of flashback———————

”Oh Arielle…..I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”, you assure her when pretty much everything going on in your life is anything but alright. She gives you a look.

“I- okay well there’s nothing I can do about it, and it’s not like anything would have happened, it was merely a stupid crush.”, you reply wondering whether you’re trying to convince Sienna or yourself. A long but comfortable silence passes, you both just sit and immerse in everything you’ve just blurted out.

"How are things between you and Wayne?", you say desperate for a topic change.

"It's as usual I guess?" she says now as gloomy as me. "We haven't had a proper conversation in a while."

You try to comfort your best friend as you mentally curse the idiot.

"He's an idiot, Si, " you tell her. "If he can't value you, he's not worth it Si."

"He was not always this way you know... We've had happy days. But ever since I started my residency he became... distant."

You put your hand on top of hers in a comforting manner and give her an understanding smile.

"You can always talk to me about it, Si. You know that right?"

She nods and shoots me a smile, a sad one, nonetheless a smile. That’s a slight improvement.

We talk about our messes of relationships for a bit more before Sienna decides we had enough gloom and doom and it was time to make some happy memories.

“Okay, what did you have in mind?”, you ask.

A grin forms on her face as she tucks her knees in and speaks, "Why did the Dalmatian go to the eye doctor?"

“Medical joke hmm?” She nods and nudges me to try to answer. After thinking for a moment, I shrug.

"Because he kept seeing spots.", she says following with a fit of laughter. The joke isn’t even that funny but even you end up laughing your heart out. That's the thing with best friends, everything becomes a thousand times better when they’re by your side.

"Oh-" Sienna tries to say recovering from her previous laughter session, "There's another one."

"What did one tonsil say to the other tonsil?"

"Umm...What?" you ask when you fail to find an answer.

"Get dressed up, the doctor is taking us out!" We both break into another fit of laughter, laughing till tears form in the corner of your eyes.

You wipe tears from your eyes, still smiling broadly.

Your own reflection catches your eye in the mirror. Your balayage hair is now slowly falling out from the messy bun you tied up before, your eyes now have bags in addition to your dark circles and lastly you look like a zombie with your smeared makeup.

“I look like a hot mess.”

Sienna laughs. “Well I have a night shift today so I’ll look worse than you after it.

You join her in another wave of laughter until Sienna’s phone goes off from her room.

You watch her as her eyes light up and then morph into worry as she looks at herself. You give her a look.

“Oh uh… Danny said that he would give me a lift to my shift and stop by to get coffee.”, she shouts as she rushes into her room. You chuckle watching her frantically trying to make herself presentable as she grabs her bag and heads downstairs.

“Bye Si! I’ll see you later-“ She’s already run off. With a smile, you head towards your room for a bath, dinner and then a date with more textbooks.

************************************************************

Authors’ Note:- Hey everyone, Chapter 14 of Medically Inevitable is finally out! We know that the release was scheduled much much earlier but life happens unfortunately and it took us quite a long time but from now on, our regular schedule will continue again!

Anyways, let us know if you enjoyed this chapter and your predictions of what will happen next! Are Harper and Ethan really a couple? And if they are, why did Ethan almost kiss Arielle? And what’s happening with Danny and Sienna? As always, it means a lot to us if you comment and reblog and have a great day/night everyone!

Love,

@drariellevalentine & @mysticaurathings

Medically Inevitable Taglist:-

Let us know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

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let-it-raines · 4 years

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Ok you probably saw this coming but now I need to see Emma and Killian working together - how it works, what they do, people’s reactions, everything pretty please!? 😊 (Assuming that is what you were alluding to? 😉)

I am...behind in Catch Me If You Can extras. I had about a million and two in my head since I love this universe most of all, and then life happened and I took some time off from writing. But nevertheless, here I am with a short little extra of the two of them being commentators together! I think they’ll probably have some pretty good on-camera chemistry, don’t you?

ao3 | here |

-/-

March 2026

“Do you think I should wear my uniform?”

“What?” Emma yells.

“Do you think I should wear my uniform?” Killian repeats, trying his hardest not to yell since Emma is one room over.

He hears Emma before he sees her, and she pops her head into the closet with her brows furrowed together and her head cocked to the side. She’s got her hair in curlers, only one eye has mascara, and her portable breast pump is attached to her. She’s a sight for sore eyes, and he couldn’t imagine a more beautiful woman if he tried.

“You’re kidding, right?” she asks, and she obviously did not find his joke funny.

Killian shrugs. “Why would I be kidding? Look at this section of the closet. It’s all my uniforms and t-shirts and joggers. I have more Yankees-branded clothes than regular clothes, and I feel like it would be fitting to wear something that paid homage to my time as a player.”

Emma’s head recoils and she shakes her head, little lines popping up on her forehead. “You’re wearing the fitted navy suit, white shirt, matching navy tie, and you have a Yankees pin to put on your lapel. Didn’t the network go over this with you?”

“No, not at all.”

Her eyes narrow, like little slits of impending death, and if she could cross her arms over her chest, she would. He knows it. “You’re fucking with me, and I don’t appreciate it.”

“Come on. I know you do, love.”

“I don’t.”

Killian sighs and walks over to her, tilting his head and curling the corners of his lips. He blinks, slowly, and stares at Emma as he waits for her to smile. When she doesn’t, he places his hands on her hips and traces his lips across her neck, gently enough to not leave a mark or any trace of his stubble. If he messes up her makeup, she likely will murder him and get away with it. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Emma.”

“Killian.”

He presses a long kiss against the lobe of her ear and runs his hand down her back. “If you don’t want to have this argument on television, I feel like now might be the time we need to have it.”

“That seems like, ah – emotional blackmail.”

Killian nips down at her ear before pulling back, dipping his head so they’re eye level as he tucks a loose strand behind her ear. “You okay?”

“Honestly?”

“Always.”

“I’m a little worried that my boobs are going to start leaking on TV and that we’re going to have no chemistry together and also that we’re going to have to stop the broadcast because MJ is having a meltdown and Jace is having a meltdown because his sister is having a meltdown. And honestly, I feel like life was a lot simpler when you were lying to me about having a shoulder injury and my ex-boyfriend and your father were creating a smear campaign against us that made national headlines and nearly ruined our lives.”

Killian chuckles. He can’t help it, and he knows his wife wants to knee him in the balls for it, but he really cannot help himself. She’s stressed, and she shouldn’t be. If anything, he should be the one shitting himself because he’s the one doing something new today. But he knows better than to say that when he’s not the one who feels like he has to balance ten different jobs at once.

Emma keeps putting everything on her shoulders, like she’s the only one who can carry the stress, but he wants to carry the burdens as well. That is how their marriage works.

“You know, when you put it like that, it makes me realize our lives have never been boring. And life was probably simpler then, but none of what you’re fearing now is going to happen.”

“Really? You can guarantee that my boobs aren’t going to leak and that our children aren’t going to have meltdowns? Margot is three months old. All she does is have meltdowns and all my boobs do is leak when I get off this stupid feeding schedule because my body is only a feeding machine right now.”

Killian tilts his head and smiles. “I can guarantee we’re going to have chemistry working together.”

Emma scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re happy to have a job again.”

Killian shrugs and kisses Emma’s cheek. “Well, I need something to do until Jace and MJ are old enough for me to coach all of their teams.”

“Killian Jones, former three-time World Series Champion, spends his days getting yelled at by overinvolved parents of seven-year-olds at baseball and ballet and fly fishing.”

“Doesn’t sound too different from my playing days. Also, fly fishing?”

“I didn’t want to limit them. We don’t know what their hobbies are going to be.”

“Too true, love. I have a feeling they’ll be trying everything they can get their hands on.”

Emma huffs and taps her knuckles over Killian’s chest. The smile she’s been hiding starts poking out. “Tonight, do you think we can get Mary Margaret and David to watch the kids, and you and I go on a date? Like, a real one where we get dressed up and go out and have full intentions to have sex afterward but really, we go to bed early and wake up feeling like humans again.”

“You are speaking my language.” Killian’s hand falls to Emma’s waist and inches back to give her ass a quick squeeze. “Go finish getting ready. You’re going to make me late to my first day on the job.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I might later.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Jace wanders into the closet as Killian is buttoning his shirt – the white button down and not his jersey – and he starts a long, very detailed conversation about the pros and cons of peanut butter with peanuts and without, and Killian does his best to pay attention to him and keep him occupied as Emma gets ready. That mostly means Jace tries climbing up on the shelves and grabbing Emma’s things, and after Killian is dressed and his hair is tamed enough, he picks Jace up and takes him to get dressed. The lucky kid doesn’t have to wear a suit. He gets to wear a Yankees sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, and his hair, curly mess that it is, will never be tamed. The baby monitor on Killian’s phone goes off, telling him Margot is up from her nap, and he takes Jace with him to MJ’s nursery to get her ready as well. Ariel is watching the two of them up in the suite today, bless her, and she’ll likely watch them for every game. They wanted to hire a nanny, but Ariel insisted that there were enough people to watch all the kids during the games. That’s a lie considering they’re all old and most of them have procreated now, so the kids far outnumber the adults.

It’s like a madhouse in their suite, and Killian could barely handle it when he only had Jace.

“Hello, little love,” Killian tells MJ as he changes her out of her pajamas and into the outfit Emma laid out. “Are you ready for your first baseball game? You don’t even know how much you’re about to have to watch this game. It’s going to be your entire life, whether you like it or not.”

“Where’s Will?” Jace asks.

“Big Will or little Will?”

“Little.”

“Where’d you leave him?” Killian asks as he pulls MJ’s pants up. “You had him while eating breakfast, so he might be in the kitchen.”

“Can I go check?”

“Give me a minute.”

“Too long.”

Killian chuckles and tries hurrying to dress Margot as she squirms and moves as much as anyone as small as her can, and he keeps his eye on Jace as he goes through the books in Margot’s room. She’s got a wall of them, something Emma saw on Pinterest and wanted to do, and while they’re supposed to be displayed nicely, Jace always has other ideas.

Thankfully, Emma’s heels start clicking down the hall, and she appears in the room, a vision in a cream dress that hugs her curves and heels that will definitely distract him for the rest of the day. Killian lets out a low whistle, and she rolls her eyes. “You’re a vision, darling.”

“Pretty, Mama,” Jace agrees.

“Thank you, baby.” Emma pulls her hand out from behind her back and Will the stuffed red lobster appears. She is magical, Killian swears. “I hear you’re looking for Will.”

“Thank you,” he squeals, moving from the books and toward Emma to get the lobster.

“You guys ready to go?” Emma asks. “You look nice, babe.”

“Better than I do in my uniform?”

Emma laughs. “Well, I like your ass in both.”

“Ass,” Jace squeals, and Emma covers her mouth, eyes wide.

“We’re ruining them,” she whispers behind her hands. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Killian chuckles and picks MJ up, holding her in the crook of his arm. “Blame it on Will if Jace says it in public.”

“You’re horrible.”

“I’m not the one who is teaching our son curse words while talking about how attracted I am to my husband’s behind.”

“Let’s just go,” Emma laughs, taking MJ from him and fussing with her hair. “We’re going to be late.”

They’re not late.

They’re not even close to late. They get to the stadium ahead of time, drop the kids off with Ariel, and they have time to sneak into the clubhouse and say hello to Will, Eric, Rob, and the rest of the guys. They’re in the middle of doing press and warm-ups, and Killian has to dodge questions of his own. His time as a baseball player is over, and two years later, that’s still hard for him to accept. It’s reality, however, and he ignores the ache in his chest and threads his fingers together with Emma as they leave the clubhouse and move to the production booth to do all of their pre-game tests. Emma is a natural, and he has to remind himself this is what she’s done for years. It’s her job, and she’s damn good at it. It’s his job now, too, but this isn’t what he was meant to do. He was meant to be out on the field, not behind the glass.

That’s the past. This isn’t. It’s the here and now.

And he’s thankful to still be involved in the game that has shaped his life.

“You’re going to be great,” Emma promises, reaching over and pressing her hand over his. “We’ve done practice runs. You’ve done this before. All you have to do is talk to me and talk about baseball. That’s literally what you already do every single day.”

“Hey now, I do have things in my life I love besides you and baseball. I also enjoy my kids and baking and complaining about different aches after I’ve exercised.”

“Well, you can talk about those things too.”

“Even the time I think I pulled a muscle in my ass?”

Emma rolls her eyes and adjusts her microphone. “I know I made you feel all good about it earlier, but stop talking about your ass.”

“Actually,” Ruby says from her spot behind the camera, “I feel like that would make our ratings go up.”

Killian shakes his head and chuckles, rolling in his chair and straightening his back as Emma does the same, adjusting her dress and not-so-slightly checking to see if she’s started leaking. Just another day in the life for them. Ruby holds up her fingers, counting down to the camera starting to roll, and Killian looks at Emma, waiting for her to begin.

“Hi, my name is Emma Jones, and I’m here with a familiar face to most of you. I’m thrilled to welcome former Yankees starting pitcher, three-time World Series Champion, two-time Cy Young Award winner, an eight-time All Star, and most impressively, the father of my children and my husband, Killian Jones. He’ll be working with me all season long, and I promise you he got the job all on his own merit. It has nothing to do with any strings I’ve pulled.”

“Well, that sounds a little suspicious, love.”

“Only if you point it out.”

Killian laughs and turns away from Emma to look at the camera. “I’m thrilled to be working with Emma and the rest of the crew this season, as well as getting to mercilessly critique my former teammates. Scarlet, I’m looking at you.”

“Welcome to Opening Day,” Emma chuckles, squeezing his hand under the desk, and his racing heart settles, the beat staying in the settled place where it always is with Emma by his side. No matter how much he wants to be out on the field and no matter how much he still misses it, he cannot imagine a place where he’d rather be right now. “Let’s look at this highlight reel of last season, and then we’ll talk about all the roster changes for this season. I think it’s going to be a good one.”

-/-

CMIYC tag list: @mrtinski @bluewildcatfanatic @killianswannn @sherifemma @onepunintendid @authorarsinoe @stunningswan @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @superchocovian @sals86 @iam2307 @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings @carpedzem @tornadoamy @captainkillianswanjones @captain-emmajones

#catch me if you can #cs ff #cs fic #cs fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan #ouatxxxxx

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areyoureadyforsomemeatballz · 6 years

Text

Short Stack

Summary: Bucky Barnes has been on the lookout for the perfect girl to set up with Steve since the two of them were old enough to date. With Steve all but giving up hope what will happen when you come tumbling into their lives?

Pairing: Pre-serum Steve x Short!Reader

Word Count: 2200

Warnings: An attempted mugging (not in graphic detail). A couple swears, as per usual.

A/N: I couldn’t get this out of my head after reading this post from @captain-ariel-barnes . This one is for her, and any other smol cuties that love little Steve. Even though I’m a giant, at 5’9, I still had a blast writing this. I hope you guys enjoy it, let me know what you think!

All your life you have been told over and over again how dangerous it is living in New York City. Hearing such things at a young age had instilled in you the belief that there would be ruffians on every street corner and goons prowling in every alley. As an adult, you had come to realize that, though there was a threat it wasn’t as present as your overprotective parents would have you believe. Or, you had just been lucky enough to avoid those lurking in the shadows.

She needed help! That much was clear to you as you saw a woman struggling with a burly man in the alley outside the dress shop that you worked in. The woman was cowering against the wall. Fear evident on her face, even from your view at the opening of the alley.

“Hey,” you call out, hoping to distract the man. “Leave her alone.”

He turns slightly and gives you a once over. “Mind your own business, short stack. Me and my lady are just having a disagreement.”

“It doesn’t look that way to me. Just let the lady go, no questions asked.”

“Beat it, kid,” He grits out, turning back to the woman. “You don’t know who you’re talkin' to.”

The woman silently begs you for your help. Logically, you knew that you had absolutely no chance of fighting this man off. He towered over you, which at your height wasn’t much of a feat. You made the snap decision to find someone who could stop him. You rush out onto the street and your eyes land on a couple a few paces down from the alley, the man is much bigger than the attacker and looks kind. If under any other circumstances you would find him very attractive.

You sprint toward the pair and grab onto the man’s arm, trying to stop him from moving any further away. “Excuse me! There is a man in that alley,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb. “He’s harassing a lady and I tried my best to stop it, but I need help. She needs help.”

“We’re not interested. Can’t you see that we’re in the middle of something? James, we’ll miss the movie,” his date says while giving you a disapproving glare.

“Show me the way,” the man- James- says earnestly. “This’ll only take a second, Betty. The movie can wait.”

You grab onto James’s hand and race back to the alley, the man rifling through the woman’s purse without a care. She had fallen to her knees, trying to make herself as small as possible.

“I’ll take it from here. You go wait by Betty,” James says as he’s already approaching the man.

“I don’t think so, Bucko. I need to make sure that she is okay.”

James rolls his eyes at you muttering something about stubborn hero types under his breath. He reaches out and grabs the man by his coat and sends him flying to the ground with a punch. The mugger is no match for James and the fight is quickly over. After he’s out cold you step over him and help the woman off of the ground and brush off her skirt.

“Are you okay, miss?”

She pulls you into a tight hug, tears streaming down her face and into your hair. You hug back tightly and whisper that she’s safe.

“He’d been harassing me at the diner that I waitress at, I had no clue that he’d follow me home,” she whispers tearfully. “I thought I was going to die.”

James clears his throat behind you, and you notice that there are two policemen with him. One slaps a pair of cuffs on the attacker and drags his limp form to the waiting car. You hadn’t even heard James leave the alley to fetch help.

“We can take it from here, ma’am,” the officer’s partner says to you.

You look at him skeptically, unwilling to leave this poor woman with strange men. James grabs onto your arm and pulls you away from the scene. “They’ll make sure she gets home safe. You’ve done everything that you can,” he whispers into your ear.

You make a noise of protest low in your throat, but you let him lead you back out of the alleyway.

“That was sure something, miss,” James says. “I’m not sure any sane woman would attempt to stop a fella that big without help.”

“I got help, you jerk. Do you think I pulled you off the street for your pretty face? The name is Y/N, not miss, by the way.”

He lets out a loud laugh. “No need for the sharp tongue, Y/N. All I mean is not many people would do what you just did.”

“James,” Betty whines as she approaches the two of you. “Can we please go now?”

“I’d like to see you again; do you think that would be possible?” James says as he looks down at you.

You shoot a pointed look at Betty. “You seem to have your hands awfully full already, James.”

A wide grin splits across his face. “Just as friends, then. There’s someone you remind me of and it’d be a crime if the two of you didn’t meet.”

You can’t help but like James and decide to give him the number of the dress shop so that he could reach out to you.

******

“I’m telling ya, Stevie, she’s like no dame that I’ve ever met!” Bucky says excitedly.

Steve gives him an unimpressed look and plucks a few fries out of the basket in between them. “I’m sure you two will be so happy together, that is until someone else catches your eye.”

“I already told you, it’s not like that you punk. Plus, what’s so wrong with sharing my time with as many girls as I can? It’s not a crime you know.”

Steve sighs and continues to eat, unable to make eye contact. “You have every girl in the city at your beck and call. I just want one who will take the time to get to know the skinny asthmatic, and maybe see something more with me.”

“That’s what I am trying to tell you! You never listen, Steve. I, your best friend in the world, am going to set up a double for us.”

“No.”

“Steve just-”

He begins to gather up their trash and stands up from the booth. “I am sick of you taking me on dates, only to have the girl disappointed when I show up.”

“She’s different, Steve. At least just meet her, it won’t be a date, I swear on my ma’s grave.”

“Your ma isn’t dead.”

“I don’t know why I put up with you, Rogers. You’re meeting her and that’s final. You two will be fast friends.”

******

“Jame- Bucky I don’t think your friend is very keen on meeting me. That, or he doesn’t exist and this is when I learn you were crazy all along.”

Bucky is sprawled across your sofa with a glass of lemonade in his hands. He made himself at home the second after stepping foot in your apartment. “Not imaginary, doll face. He’s just a little shy.”

You roll your eyes at the man as you continue to tidy up the room. “Why are you so insistent that we meet each other?”

“Stevie’s my family and you are quickly becoming a staple in my life, despite being a pain in my ass.”

“Get your feet off the sofa, James.”

“Okay, first off there’s the pain in my ass thing. Second, I want you to call me Bucky.”

“Bucky’s a stupid name,” you grumble under your breath.

******

Bucky is finally able to convince Steve to meet you after two months of begging. He promised that it wouldn’t be a date, the three of you were going to go out for drinks and to a dance hall. He had neglected to tell Steve about the dancing, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

You were running late at the shop and told Bucky that you would meet them at the dance hall. Your manager had been nice enough to let you wear one of the samples for the evening, which you paired with short heels and your grandmother's pearl necklace. You knew everyone would tower over you, even in the heels. But, you felt amazing in the newly altered dress.

As you bustle into the hall your eyes land on Bucky, a smile working its way on to your face. When you see the man beside him your heart nearly stops. He is beautiful. Bucky elbows him in the ribs and the man turns his piercing blue gaze on you in full force. He runs a hand through his tidy blond hair, mussing it up and making himself more attractive somehow.

Shaking your head, you force your legs to carry you toward Bucky and the angel- Steve. Bucky had said his name was Steve. As you approach the pair you clear your throat and give yourself a mini pep talk. Bucky had also said that this wasn’t a date, so the nerves were unwarranted.

“Hi, I’m-”

“Y/N,” Steve breathes your name out in awe. “Buck told me a lot about you.”

Bucky is behind Steve grinning like the cat who ate the canary, not that either you or Steve notice. “Well, it’s good to see you Y/N. But, there’s a lovely woman over by the band that’s demanding my attention.”

“Bucky, don’t-” Steve protests immediately.

Bucky cuts him off with a wink. “I’m sure you two kids will find something to talk about.” He’s gone in a flash, leaving the two of you to try and make conversation.

“So, uh- tell me about yourself, Steve.”

“There’s not much to tell, I’m pretty dull. Uh, I guess I’m an artist, but other than that I’m a run of the mill guy.”

“I don’t believe that for one second. Tell me about your art,” you say smiling at him. “I mean, only if you want to, that wasn’t a demand.”

You feel your checks heat up and your eyes drop to the bar. God, when had you become so terrible at talking to men? Was it just this man affecting you? Steve doesn’t seem to notice your embarrassment and he turns around to retrieve his messenger bag from under the bar, pulling out a sketchbook.

“I can do you one better! I can show you,” Steve says excitedly. “These are my newest works, but I have loads of sketchbooks.”

He prattles on about art for twenty minutes, with you hanging on his every word. “Anyway, painting has become one of my favorite mediums, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop sketching…” He trails off midsentence and you look up from the sketchbook.

“I’m so sorry, I’m probably boring you to death. I’ve been going on for so long. I just get excited. You’re free to go find someone else, maybe someone that can hold a normal conversation or give you a dance,” Steve says while looking away from you.

He was as nervous as you, which bolstered your confidence a bit. “Steve, no! I don’t know if you noticed but, I was very much enjoying that conversation. You are so passionate, and besides, I’d much rather sit here with you than dance with any bloke here.”

Steve’s ears perked up at this and a gentle smile lights up his already radiant face. “Not even Bucky?”

“Especially not Bucky. He’s a good friend, but not really my type.”

“What is your type, if I may ask?”

You give him a shy smile. “I think I’m still figuring that out, but you’ll be the first to know.” You reach across the bar top and take his hand in yours.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Steve blurts.

Your eyes widen and you move to pull your hand away from his. “Steve, I-”

“Goodness, not like that! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean like that! I just wanted to get out of the crowd. Maybe we can go to the diner across the street and talk more? I can walk you home after, too.”

It was easy to see that he was being genuine and you were tired of the booming crowd anyway. “I’d love to. But only if we get a milkshake and fries.” You grab on to Steve’s hand as he leads the two of you through the thick cluster of people, missing the smile on his face.

Steve makes eye contact with Bucky across the room. Bucky shoots him a thumbs up while making a kissing face. Steve rolls his eyes and passes his coat over to you, which you slip into easily. Steve tucks you into his side to protect you from the cold New York air.

As the two of you make your way across the street you lay your head on his shoulder and wonder how this amazing man hasn’t been snapped up already.

******

“I am going to have my hands full with those two,” Bucky declares to himself.

His dance partner looks up at him, confused. “What was that, James?”

“Nothing, darling. I was just thinking out loud.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #catfa #ca:tfa #reader insert #pre serum steve

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childoftimeandmagic · 5 years

Text

Mending Major Problems

My first actual Queliot fic. You can also read it on AO3.

FYI @kickassfu you’re welcome.

Mending of minor objects: a small and useless discipline, just like himself. Small, hazardous, and maladjusted. Fixing a toy plane, a mug, a kite for christs sake. Yet he couldn’t fix the big things. Couldn’t help Julia, couldn’t put Alice back together, fix Fillory, fix magic. None of it worked. Quentin for all his efforts, had in fact made most if not all of those situations worse. Maybe his mother had been right. Maybe Mayakovsky had been wrong. Maybe it came with a curse. Which meant the bigger the problem he tried to fix...maybe he just broke it more.

Sitting at Eliot’s side his fingers worrying the pages of Fillory and Further: The World Within the Walls. As he stared at the familiar pages, he thought about the last month of panic and intense fear; which had come to culmination in such an anticlimactic way. In the end it hadn’t been anything he’d done. Julia had negotiated them a deal.

Alive that had been the deal. They all got out of this alive and wouldn’t ever bother the monster or his sister again. The sister who had been shoved into Julia, only for Julia’s consciousness and god powers to expel her back out into the ether. The monster did not enjoy that, but there hadn’t been anything he could do about it. The influx of powers by awakening his older sister had jump-started Julia’s powers within herself. They’d found the body to hold his sister and then as Julia told it, the two goddesses had parlayed.

Apparently the sister and Julia had come to an agreement. Something to solve the issues that the young goddesses had felt was applicable. So one fresh goddess and a newly awakened goddess worked out a deal for everyone, the entire thing though hinged on the monster returning Eliot to him them. They’d found an agreeable replacement, a god stripped of his spark. With no powers to reawaken, a weak conscious, and no backbone of substance to fight the possession.

Let Persephone deal with the twins if she cared about her son so much, that wasn’t their problem. Reynard would be the replacement for Eliot’s body. The monster’s sister knew a spell that would transfer her brother into him. All they’d had to do was win against Everett, and the library. Zelda had been initially enraged at what they’d agreed too. She had reluctantly agreed it was the only way, and if not then they were in for something far more dangerous. She’d quickly agreed to an amended deal as it saved the majority of the library’s contents from harm.

Everett had proven almost impossible to stop. Even with three gods, seven magicians, and a network of hedges all working together it hadn’t been easy. They’d managed it though and after they’d dealt with Everett, and fulfilled their promise to the young gods who’d been so horribly abused by the greed of man.The binder was burned and destroyed, which would allow them to disappear into obscurity.

They’d retreated to the new Library to lick their wounds.Alice was still in the infirmary with burns on her arms. Kady, Harriet, and Zelda had immediately started releasing magic back into the world. The sister, had in turn found a body that would work forever, and hold her soul encased. Julia had traveled back to Fillory to help ease the influx of magic that had explode through the multiverse with the defeat of the Everett led library.

That had been four days ago, Eliot hadn’t woken up though. Nothing had brought him back. Not Margo beating on his chest, Fen crying over him, and then there was himself talking to Eliot whispering shared memories. The healers at the infirmary couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t waking up as his body was perfectly fine. So they’d taken him back to Kady’s loft so he’d be in a less frantic environment if when he woke up.

After the second day, Margo and Fen had been forced back to Fillory. Something about talking animals revolting or maybe the nymphs were going insane. Quentin if asked couldn’t give an answer. His focus had been solely on the brunette man lying peacefully on the bed. Putting the book down Quentin ran his fingers over the spine of the old much loved paperback.

Julia and Penny 23 were off doing goddess knows what, goddess knows where. Q had promised her that he wouldn’t lose himself in trying to wake Eliot up. Julia and Penny had tried to gain access to his mind, but had been rejected or barred from Eliot’s mind palace. When that had failed, Alice and Zelda had offered to search the library for anything about being unable to wake up following a possession.

“Remember those mornings back in Fillory when the sun would catch the dew just right and refract little rainbows everywhere?” Q murmured, shifting so he could stretch his back out and look around the room. “You would bend the light with Popper 98 and Teddy would giggle for ages.”

“You were always so good with him, especially after Arielle passed. Then we just gave each other a chance,” Quentin laughed, to himself scrubbing a hand over his face. Tears pricking his eyes as he looked down at the love of his life. “Gods, I miss Teddy and Arielle so much. You promised me El, you said I’d never have to do this alone. So you can’t stay in there forever.”

“I just -- need you to wake up.” Standing for the first time in a day-maybe two. His bladder screaming. His stomach knotted and nauseous he moved slowly through Kady’s loft to the bathroom. Wincing at his reflection Margo would call him an idiot. He had school, friends to help, a kingdom to support, and he was wallowing. His eyes sunken, hair growing out again, god he needed a haircut bad. Scrubbing his hands clean and zipping his pants he groaned.

Dragging himself through the loft toward the kitchen. The empty mug from someone who had given him a beverage of some sort in his hand. No one seemed to be around. Which was probably better, Quentin didn’t think he could handle conversation with anyone right now. Turning on the coffee pot that someone, probably Julia had set up before. He leaned against the counter.

None of the books on magical comas had any idea what to do about this, they all said once the spell or the possession had ended, the soul of the original inhabitant would return. If they hadn’t been completely snuffed out. As long as the body wasn’t dead or hadn’t been killed while possessed, everything should be okay. Eliot should have woken right the fuck up. Yet, Eliot was unconscious upstairs, and Q was here making coffee and searching his tired brain for something that would fix this.

“Q, you in there?” Kady’s voice broke through to him finally and he looked up from were his head had been resting on his hands. When had she-god he was tired.

“Not really Kady,” he admitted looking at his fri-acquaintance, honestly at this point he was as close to Kady as he’d ever be. Hew as still not as close to her as Margo, Julia or Alice. But, Kady was here.

“I take it Sleeping Beauty hasn’t woken up,” Kady asked, pouring both of them a cup of coffee. “Cause you look awful Coldwater.”

“Gee thanks, and no he’s still sound asleep,” Quentin murmured, taking the cup she’d slid his way. Offering a gentle smile he sipped at the coffee and let out a bit of tension in his shoulders.

“Why don’t you just kiss him,” she asked, clearly joking, “you love him enough that you were willing to burn the world to get him back. Doesn’t true loves kiss always wake the princess?”

“Har har-” Q glared at Kady before he remembered that Fillory had also been a story “-wait that could work,” Quentin said, bolting back up the stairs to the room he was sharing with Eliot, though Eliot was sound asleep.

“Q it’s not going to work, that’s just a freaking kids story,” Kady shouted, shaking her head feeling bad for the nerd. It was just another disappointment in the making. Sipping her coffee she sent off a quick group text <Q’s trying something dumb, come back in case it doesn’t work.>

Standing in the door way he looked at the prone body of the man he’d lived fifty years with, the king he wanted to protect and guard for all time. Walking slowly over to the side of the bed, praying to Julia as hard as he possibly could that it worked. He leaned down. Eliot’s lips were warm and dry as he kissed him gently, pulling away. Nothing.

“Eliot Waugh you fucking pain in my ass. Get up, or I swear to god I am done,” he whispered, dropping down onto his knees at the side of the bed. Looking at the love of his life, who even with a kiss hadn’t woken up. Burying his head in his hands he started to finally cry. He couldn’t fix anything.

“Brave...for you,” Eliot’s voice was a rasp, Q looked up eyes glossy and cheeks wet.

“El?” Q whispered, cupping Eliot’s face gently as he turned to look at him. Blinking.

“I need to be braver for you,” Eliot coughed out, sitting up feeling musty and gross but no longer locked in his mind. He couldn’t go somewhere he’d never been and the room wasn’t familiar. Also Q’s hair was shorter than he remembered it. He was awake.

“Oh god, I have to get Margo back from Fillory. You’re awake,” Q rambled, looking at Eliot who was blinking and moving around slowly. Pulling himself into a seated position as he looked from Q to the room and back. Pulling away only to have the man in question grab his hand. Intertwining their fingers tightly.

“Q don’t leave me,” he murmured, looking at their joined hands. Q was the only thing he recognized. Q was here, they’d done it -he’d done it. He’d saved him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Q said, switching tactics to pull out his phone. Texting Kady that El was up and to get Margo here asap. He put his phone away and sat on the bed all without breaking the grip Eliot had on his hand.

Eliot was shaken to his core, he’d stumbled across the memories of Teddy and their life in Fillory. He’d made a refuge there, watching his family grow. Reliving the memories in his mind as he waited to either wake up or die, whichever came first. Suddenly everything had started to fade, first the cottage then his memory self, then Teddy and finally Q. Tears started to pour down his cheek.

“El what’s wrong?” Quentin asked, gently running his fingers through Eliot’s hair as the taller man dropped his head onto his shoulder. Sobs shaking his body.

“I was with him Q, I was rewatching all of Teddy’s firsts. Now I’m awake and you’re here. I love that, but he’s gone,” Eliot whimpered wrapping his arms around Q’s waist, feeling broken and tired. Gods he felt so tired.

“Oh El.” He wrapped his arms around his friend, holding him tight. Running his hand over Eliot’s back gently. “Teddy is always in your heart, so he’s never gone.”

“So you and Alice?” Eliot sniffed, reading himself for rejection. It was always Q and Alice. It was best to ask now, make sure he didn’t make a fool of himself.

“You have got to be kidding me, I literally give you true loves kiss, and you think I’m back together with Alice?” Q asked, snorting at the thought. “No she’s off helping Zelda and Harriet rebuild the library. I think, or somewhere else, I didn’t really care honestly.”

“So you’re single?” El asked, wiping at his eyes, feeling foolish.

“That depends on you Waugh, am I?” Q asked, looking at the man he’d been madly in love with for almost a year. A man he’d been ready to die for, and one he would rip the world apart brick by brick to bring home.

“Absofuckinglutely not,” Eliot said, more forcefully than he’d originally intended. Cupping Q’s face in his hands he looked into Q’s eyes. “I love you Quentin Coldwater. You’re never getting rid of me again. No more running. No more bullshit. I’m yours.”

“I love you too Eliot,” Quentin said, his thoughts torn. Maybe he could fix somethings after all.

#writing corner #queliot #the magicians #sleeping beauty au #lets all be fucking real Eliot is a princess through and through #playing the part of sleeping beauty fits him #thanks to my dearheart for listening to me grumble and second guess myself about this piece #hope you all enjoy this #my writing

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kenzieam · 5 years

Text

Druid - Chapter Eight

Rating: M (smut, language, violence, mature themes, potential major character death)

Genre: Drama/Angst

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******************************************************************************

Catch up here

******************************************************************************

LEV

Stitch continues, shining a small penlight in my eyes and asking me a variety of questions. What’s my name? What date is it? What’s the names of the two scary blond bikers standing sentry over me? He seems relieved by my answers.

Gently, he cups my face, his fingertips pressing underneath my jawbone while his thumbs start to probe my cheekbones.

“Does this hurt?” He asks quietly, watching my face for a reaction.

I’m about to say no when he touches a certain spot closer to my eye and sudden pain flares in my face. I wasn’t expecting it, and my flinch is as much in surprise as it is soreness, but Stitch frowns and Thor and Steve shift their weight from foot to foot.

“I know it hurts, but hold still, please.” He murmurs, leaning closer. His fingers concentrate on the painful spot, his exploration much more exact and while I can tell he’s trying very hard to be gentle, now that he’s awoken those nerves again, they’re upset and screeching in indignation. I manage not to flinch again, but my jaw is tensed, my fingers knotted in the bedspread.

“Stitch, is it broken?” Steve asks quietly.

Stitch pauses before shaking his head. He’s about to continue when James appears at the door, and if Nat and Sable hadn’t scrambled out of his way, he probably would have just bowled them over. He approaches me, eyes locked on my face; he’s flushed, seems agitated, as if wherever he went or whoever he went to talk to strained his nerves even further than before.

Stich shuffles sideways, still crouching, to give him room and James drops onto his knees in front of me.

“How are you, doll?” He reaches up to cup my face but hesitates. Stitch answers for me because I’m temporarily speechless by the depth of emotion in James’ eyes.

“No sign of concussion. Pupils are reacting normally. She’s painful in the lower orbital rim but I don’t believe it’s broken. She’s going to have a black eye for sure, and maybe a bruised cheek, but I think swelling will be minimal. Keep ice close by if it does though.” He smiles encouragingly at me before turning to stare directly at James. He doesn’t speak but he must ask a question with his eyes because James turns his head to face him and nods once; a sharp motion, his expression cold.

Stitch stands with a grunt. “It’s not necessary, but if you’re worried Prez, you can wake Levi up in a few hours and check her pupil response again; I’ll leave the penlight.”

That seems to be the cue for everyone to leave and Thor and Steve step closer, bending over and pressing brief kisses to the top of my head. Sable and Nat dart forward and give me quick squeezes before retreating, their men behind them. Stitch pulls a small vial out of his bag but James shakes his head at him and he puts it back.

“You can have some acetaminophen and ibuprofen for the pain but make sure you eat something. Come find me if you need help.” He backs out of the room and James shuts the door behind him. He turns, about to speak when someone knocks.

James opens the door to a prospect standing outside and snatches the backpack he’s proffering. He nods in thanks and slams the door again, locking it this time.

I watch him approach the bed, he seems cautious, almost tentative and I wonder what’s going on in his head. He drops my backpack, the bag I packed in anticipation of staying here with him for a few days, beside me on the bed.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He startles slightly, as if realizing that he’s not hiding whatever’s bothering him as well as he thought he was. “I just can’t...” he breaks off, flexing his fists. “You got hurt, right in my goddamn clubhouse-”

I sense his impending spiral downwards and stand, moving directly in front of him. He tries to flinch away and I grab his stubbly jaw, forcing him to look at me.

“That was not your fault.” I reply, trying to will him to believe me through the strength in my voice. “You can’t control everything that happens. He was down-state, right? So that’s his President’s fault, his mistake.”

Something flashes in James’ eyes, hurt and torment and something darker, reminding me that he just killed for me. That, surprisingly, doesn’t bother me, what bothers me is how little the knowledge actually troubles me. I realize I trust this man completely; that although he currently has another man’s, a dead man’s, blood dotted on his face, I know he would never hurt me; would in fact kill for me, in a heartbeat. The disparity between these two parts of him should scare me, but they don’t; if anything, I feel safer.

He sags slightly, as if the weight on his shoulders is temporarily too much to bare. “You should have a shower,” he murmurs quietly. “Wash that fucker off you.”

I nod, and turn towards the bathroom. I glance over my shoulder at him and he’s still watching me.

“Join me?” I ask quietly.

Desire and relief flare in his soulful eyes and he nods, a lazy grin pulling at his lips.

I reach into the shower and start the water, then turn back to James. He’s leaning against the doorframe a few feet away, watching me. There’s an easiness, a languidness in his powerful body that belies the tension still visible in his eyes. Holding his gaze, I pull my shirt over my head and drop it beside me. His nostrils flare as he spots my delicate lace bra and his fists squeeze together.

Next, I unbutton my jeans and start to shimmy them down slowly. He swallows hard, eyes flicking up from staring at my legs to meet my eyes before dropping again and I’m instantly warmed by the heat I see in his gaze.

I hear him groan faintly when I unsnap my bra, and it drags into a low, animal sound when I pull down my underwear and kick them towards him.

“Are you coming?” I purr, fully meaning the double-entendre as I pull the door shut behind me.

As I hoped, my words have the desired effect, and James hasn’t even fully removed his clothes before he’s barreling in behind me. Luckily, the shower is larger than normal, and I’m not immediately crushed against the wall. His powerful body shelters me from the water as his arms wrap around me and he’s almost violent with the force he captures my mouth with, a startling contrast to the tremble I feel in his lips.

He pulls away with effort, his pupils blown nearly black. I try to tug him close again but he tosses his head out of my grip and reaches past me, snagging a bottle on the nearby shelf. There’s a plea in his eyes when he looks at me again and I understand.

He needs this now. He needs to care for me, reassure himself that I’m truly okay. I close my eyes and relax as his massive hands touch me, caress me as he massages the body wash into my skin, scouring away Lurch’s stain. This is heaven, drawing out my tension and worries; I feel so safe, so cherished under his touch.

After a time, he lets me return the massage, scrub the blood from his face and knead the tightness from his muscles. His hands curl at my neck as the water pounds down onto us and I drop my head back with a moan. He crowds against me suddenly, mouth capturing mine with hungry intensity. My head spins under the ferocity of his attack and I almost whimper as his tongue sweeps into my mouth. His arms band around me, his body presses against me and I feel him hot and hard against my lower belly. I claw him closer still and we’re almost frantic in our lust. I push my hips against his, inviting him to push inside me but he grunts in refusal, increasing the fervor of his mouth on mine instead.

I haven’t made out with this level of intensity or fever since my early hormone-ridden high school years with my first real boyfriend, when we were enthusiastic but didn’t have a clue how to move past second base. If it wasn’t for James holding me so close, so tightly against him as his arms slid and curled across my body, I’d collapse in a heap at his feet. Then, his hands are grabbing my ass and lifting me, slamming my back against the shower wall. I wrap my legs around his lean hips, whimpering with desperation, squirming against his straining cock.

So close; he’s almost there, his cockhead rubbing hard in my soaked folds. I rut frantically against him, feeling like I’m going to die if he doesn’t push inside me, fill me with his rigid shaft; then nearly scream with frustration when he pulls away, letting my feet drop to the floor.

He’s panting, eyes blown with lust, breath rasping through his parted lips. “Not here.” He growls, tugging at my hand, dragging me from the shower behind him. We barely scrub a towel over our dripping bodies before he’s yanking me to the bed, throwing me onto it with a bestial snarl. Crawling up my body, he captures my mouth again, stealing what’s left of my rational mind, my legs falling open in greedy anticipation.

He knees my thighs even further apart, then fills me with one trembling push, his entire body shuddering as he groans low and deep in his chest.

“Fuck,” he moans, a wrecked, broken sound. “You feel even better than I remember.”

He’s completely overwhelmed by being inside me, teetering on the edge of exploding and I’d be preening with pride if I wasn’t also fighting not to erupt myself. My thighs are shaking around his lean hips and small, hitching moans leave James’ lips as I contract involuntarily around him, drawing him deeper inside. He’s splitting me in half and the sensations are mind-blowing. How have I existed for the last year without this perfection otherwise known as James’ cock?

Finally, with some semblance of control, he starts to move; small, soft thrusts at first, sliding and gliding with the perfect amount of sweet friction. Shivers of bliss rocket up my spine and he feels me contracting around him, hissing as he fights for control of his traitorous body, a body that obviously is ready to shatter into a million pieces, ready to pulse and spill deep inside me.

He moves stronger now, each snap of his hips precise and powerful, thrusting deep and brushing all the sensitive places inside me. I’m riding a razor’s edge right now, ready to plunge into the abyss.

“Fuck, yeah,” His rough growl is like a flick directly on my clit. “Come all over my cock, baby. Scream for me.”

His dirty words are the spark that lights my fire and I explode, not caring how loud I’m screaming his name and he fucks me through it, slamming his hips against me, growling savagely against my throats as I squeeze him like a vice.

“Goddamn, babydoll.” He groans, hooking his arm beneath my thigh to lift my leg over his shoulder. This new angle lets him in even deeper and my second climax is building almost frighteningly fast. James is slamming into me so hard the headboard is banging against the wall but it only seems to fuel him. There will be no question after tonight who I belong to; the whole clubhouse can probably hear us but even more, there’s no way to survive this primal, eternal mating of souls without my being permanently marked by this man, by his sweat, semen and very being imprinting on me like a brand, forever stamping me as his, and him as mine.

His orgasm is almost violent, his roar savage as he explodes and I feel him pulse and throb inside me, spilling his seed in thick hot spurts and I follow with a muffled scream.

“Fuck, Levi!” he cries, throwing his head back as he hips shudder against mine. Then he’s collapsing onto of me, absolutely spent by the power and violence of his release, panting in the crook of my neck. I’m equally as wasted, gasping for breath and our bodies continue to shiver with aftershocks, James’ still twitching inside me with each shudder. Our skin is sweat-slicked, the air around us thick with the mingled musk of our love-making and I’m almost purring with satisfaction.

He rolls off me with a groan, pulling me tight to his heaving body, banding his arms around me and nuzzling his face into my throat. He’s almost desperate with his need to cling to me, to hold me close and I feel a flicker of guilt. The last time we were together like this, another primal, soul-shaking encounter, I pushed him away almost immediately after, disappeared for a year. He’s scared I’m going to do it again.

If only I could muster the energy to tell him the truth; the only place I want to be right now is right here, buried in his arms, gathering my strength just so that I can move to straddle him again, impale myself on his glorious cock and feel the bliss of his release inside me again, see the awe in his gaze and feel the reverence in his touch when I come apart above him, letting him see how deeply he affects me, how tightly I’m bound to him.

I hum, snuggling as close as I can, inhaling his calming masculine scent. I’m languid with satiation, more content then I think I’ve ever been and I feel the same from James, now that he’s realizing I’m not planning on running again.

He cups my chin, tilting my face to capture my lips and the tenuous control I’d been gaining back laying here, the ability to simply move again is stolen a second time by the power behind his kiss, the emotion driving it. I’m instantly, painfully alive again in his arms, my hips seeking his, brushing against his rapidly hardening cock.

Gripping my hip, he sinks inside me with a groan, rolling so he’s on top of me, our lips still connected. His kiss is questing and hungry, caressing and claiming and when his tongue grazes mine I shiver beneath him, drawing an appreciative groan from deep in his chest.

He pulls away, and I’m about to whimper with the loss when he looks into my eyes, the almost supernatural blue deep and bottomless. His hand cups my face as his hips lazily thrust against me and he smiles; a languorous grin that lights up his whole face. I’ve never seen him this peaceful and elated before.

I smile back, and it’s like I’ve lit up his entire world.

“I love you, Levka.” He murmurs, his voice low.

I jolt, speechless at his confession. He’s watching me, beginning to tense when I don’t immediately reply. I can’t form the words right now, not that I don’t feel something incredibly powerful, I do; but I’ve never been able to say those words... to anyone.

“James, I-” Fuck it. I reach up, cupping the back of his head and pull him down towards me. Our lips connect and I throw the full weight of my emotions into my kiss, begging him to hear my heart when my mouth can’t yet answer. He shudders against me, moaning, clawing closer as he senses and understands what I’m trying to convey. He starts to move, thrusting slowly into me, and I feel his answering passion, a desire and emotion thick and heavy, sweet and wonderful, wrapping me tightly in his warmth and safety.

My orgasm is gradual to build under his slow movements and his eyes bore into mine, studying every subtle nuance and flicker of what I’m feeling, seeming to draw from my mounting passion.

“Baby,” he groans, lips parted. He strains, spine arching as he drives inside me, filling me completely and it throws me over the edge, plunging me into a breathless climax, pleasure crashing over me in waves, would drag me under if not for the anchor of James around me.

He groans, following me with a strangled growl, hips pressing to mine as he pulses and throbs. A bone-deep satisfaction washes over me, a feeling I can only describe as rightness, total perfection. I’ve never been the type to wax poetic before, certainly not while in bed with someone, but it’s overwhelming. How I missed this before, not recognized my body’s response to James, I’ll never understand. How I managed to ignore his draw for years during school and while I was with Thor, I’ll probably never be able to explain.

I’ve been standing in front of my life, my reason for life, for years, and never opened my eyes to it... until now.

I wake later to James’ gentle touch, his rough hand tenderly caressing my side. I crowd into his space and he welcomes me, capturing my mouth as his hands continue their exploration. He rolls suddenly and I see the command in his eyes. I’ve never been one to give up too much control in bed, but part of me wants to be dominated by him right now, to let him manhandle me. His grip is tight on my hips as he guides me to straddle him, holds himself steady so I can slide down onto his straining length.

His groan makes me shiver, the flash of lust in his eyes kryptonite to my soul.

“Fuck, yeah.” He grunts, flexing upwards into me and rocking my hips mercilessly against him. “Ride me, fuck-” he filthy words are drowned out by his guttural groan and I throw everything I have into obeying his command, not caring if the entire damn clubhouse can hear us right now. Let them know that Cannon has claimed his woman, that she fills him with the same level of animalistic passion he does her.

He half-sits up, head falling back and eyes rolling closed when his release hits and the hot pulses of his seed deep inside me throw me into dizzying climax, my vision greying at the edges. For long moments, I can only exist, let the sensations crash over me, drag me along and then James is pulling me back down, tucking me against his chest. I’m too sated to move, too spent to even speak and fall asleep with James’ warmth around me, his lips pressing a tender kiss to my shoulder.

Light pierces my bubble and I open my eyes slowly, reluctantly. I squint, realizing its daylight out and the sun is peering through a gap in the curtains of the room.

“Good morning, baby.” James’ voice is hoarse, a sexy rasp. We’re facing each other, laying on our sides and James is gazing at me. As I focus on him, he reaches over and trails his fingertips along my jaw.

“Good morning,” I croak, throat sore from all the screaming I’ve done lately. He looks like he’s been awake for a while. “What are you doing?” I murmur around a yawn.

His smile is soft. “Watching you.”

I hum in response, eyes fluttering closed.

“I can’t believe you’re mine.” He whispers.

A warmth fills me. “I am.” I open my eyes, tears making him blurry. “And you’re mine.” The words hit me and roll past my tongue, sweet as honey. “I love you too, James.”

His eyes flash, widening with surprise and happiness. His answering kiss is possessive and greedy, stealing my breath and making my head swim. Pulling away, he rests his forehead to mine and exhales, sounding like he’s releasing a heavy weight.

“You have no idea,” his voice hitches for a moment. “How long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

I’m genuinely curious. “How long?”

I feel him grin against me. “Since middle school, no. Since third grade. You transferred to the school and walked into Mrs. Abernathy’s class and I leaned over and whispered to Steve, ‘that’s the girl I’m going to marry’.

“Stalker.” I tease, brushing a kiss to his stubbly jaw. “You never said anything. We went to school together for years, we shared classes, and you never spoke to me. Why not? Why me?”

He tips his head back, looking at me for a moment as if I’m joking. “You have no idea, do you? How beautiful you are.” His gaze is serious as a heart attack as he continues to speak, his thumb stroking my cheek. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, inside and out.” He smiles, “it’s your laugh, your smile... have you never noticed? When you laugh? How people just stop and stare at you?”

I shrug, I honestly didn’t. “Still haven’t told me why you never talked to me.”

Now it’s James’ turn to shrug. “You were this beautiful girl from the good side of town, I was a poor kid living with my mom and step-dad on the wrong side of the tracks. I spent all my time at the club, slaving over engines, washing bikes. I never had the time or the money to ask you out, to take you anywhere fancy.”

“I never wanted fancy.”

“You deserved more than I could give you.”

“And now?”

“I don’t care if I deserve you anymore, I want you.”

I fall silent, processing this and James watches me, thumb still stroking gentle circles on my cheek.

“You know, I broke Steve’s nose over you once.”

I bark a surprised laugh. “What?”

He grins sheepishly. “Senior year. You had study hall; Steve and I were skipping, smoking out in the parking lot at his truck. You were sitting outside on that bench, remember the one? Under that big maple with the drooping branches?”

I do and nod, that was one of my favorite places to sit outside. “It was easy to hide there and watch you.” At his surprised inhale, I continue. “You didn’t think you were the only one paying attention, did you?”

“You...?”

“I had feelings for you too, James. But you were this cool kid with a motorcycle, best friends with the school jock; you’d never have looked at the goody two-shoes bookworm... or so I thought.”

James exhales, shaking his head at our mutual stupidity. After a long pause he continues. “I was watching you, not knowing you were watching me back.” Heat flushes his cheeks. “And Steve finally just says ‘Go talk to her!’ and I was like, ‘no fucking way’. So, he said ‘fine, I will’ and started walking towards you.”

I jolt in realization. “That’s why you punched him! I wondered what the hell was going on.”

James is laughing and shaking his head. “Yeah, punk deserved that broken nose.”

I can’t help my giggles as James draws me close, chuckling with me. Steve walked around for weeks with two black eyes; now I know why.

“Poor Steve.” I tease mournfully.

“Poor Steve, my ass.” James grumbles.

“I’m going to have to start correcting myself now,” I murmur, drifting back into a happy haze.

“’Bout what?” James murmurs, lips caressing my forehead.

My tongue is loose, and god knows what will pour out before my brain gets a chance to weigh in. “Since I’m yours now... I should start calling you by your club name. Cannon. And I need one too...” I trail off into a yawn.

“Don’t.” James replies, tucking me closer. “I like hearing you call me James.”

“No one else does.”

“I know. Just you. You’re the only one, I like the way you say it.”

“But around the club-”

“Around the club, call me Cannon. But please, use my name when we’re alone.”

I snuggle closer, burying my face into James’ throat, so close all I can smell is him, he’s all around me. “James,” I whisper, lips brushing his pulse point. “James. James. James.”

He groans, a shudder running through his body and burrows his face deeper in my hair.

I’m about to take this farther, purr his name while I sit up to straddle him again, croon and murmur his name like a benediction as I take him back inside me, but faint noises from downstairs reach our ears just as my traitorous stomach starts rumbling, breaking the moment. James growls, darkened eyes flashing before he sits up, pecks my lips then says. “Come shower with me then we’ll go downstairs. The prospects always make a hangover breakfast after parties like that.”

“Hangover breakfast?”

“Yeah, you know, greasy and fried. Hungry yet?”

I bite my bottom lip suggestively and squirm away, letting him draw his own conclusions. He reads me perfectly and surges into the bathroom behind me, growling, body hard with lust.

He takes me in the shower, pushing inside me with a groan as my legs wrap around his waist, pressing me against the wall. Our eyes lock and hold as he thrusts inside me and I cup his face with my hands, studying every subtle flash in his beautiful eyes, I purr his name like I wanted to and he shudders against me, dropping his head back with a wrecked groan, murmuring ‘again, baby,’ in a strained voice. He slams into me hard, chasing his own release as I climax around him, chanting his name, fueling his increasingly desperate movements, then he’s groaning in the crook of my neck as he comes too, giving me one last tender kiss before setting my feet back on the floor.

I borrow one of his hoodies and pull it over my shirt, then follow James a little nervously down the stairs. He’s holding my hand tightly, pulling me gently along and I take a deep breath as we enter the dining area. Too many heads pop up to look at us, but many are still hurting from last night and drop back down quickly. James guides me to a large table near the back, where Steve, Nat, Thor and Sable sit, various plates scattered in front of them.

“Good morning.” Steve greets, a sly tone in his voice. He side-eyes Thor and shares a grin with him.

“Sleep well?” Thor asks innocently, batting his eyelashes, slurping some OJ through his straw noisily. His eyes flick to Steve and they both look ready to explode.

“Get fucked, both of you.” James retorts and they started howling with laughter, their women rolling their eyes.

“Children.” Nat condemns, shaking her head as I sit. James sits beside me, scooting his chair closer so our thighs are touching. “Good morning, Levi.” She smiles.

I smile at both women, cheeks warm. “Good morning.”

#au bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky and lev

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ladyseaheart1668 · 6 years

Text

Endless Summer Fan Novel (Book 3, Chapter 3)

Hearing what I've just said, the others are immediately beside me, staring at the woman silhouetted in moonlight on the prow. She turns towards us. It's Quinn all right, but for a moment, I feel dread flooding through me. Will she know us? Is it her, or just something wearing her face? Her eyes go wide as they find my face in the encroaching darkness.

“Alodia!” she cries.

“Oh my god!” Diego gasps. “It's you!”

“It can't be...” Michelle whispers. “Can it?”

“You were hit with a rocket!” Raj yelps. “We saw you explode!”

“Hang on,” Jake says. “Are we talking to Ariel? ...Or Ursula?”

Quinn puffs out her cheeks, her rosebud mouth twisting into her familiar, adorable pout. “It's me. Don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt anyone.”

I laugh, rushing forward to pull her into my arms. She holds me back, resting her chin on my shoulder.

“It's you, Quinn! It's really you!”

“Of course it is, silly!” She pulls back to look at the rest of the group. “I'm so glad I've finally found all of you.”

“Have you seen any sign of the others?” I ask anxiously.

“They would surely be here if she had,” Estela says.

“You don't know that,” Diego protests. “She might have information.”

Quinn shakes her head sadly. “Estela's right, I'm afraid. I don't know where anyone else is at this point.”

Everyone, even Estela, looks disappointed at that. I can't say I don't feel the same, but I force myself to smile reassuringly.

“We're gonna find them soon. For now, we're just happy to have you back.” Almost before the last word is out of my mouth, Quinn sucks in a sharp breath, doubling over and grasping my shoulder for support. I brace her, my pulse accelerating. “Woah! Quinn, are you okay?”

“Malatesta!” Estela whirls on the pirate, her eyes narrow. “If you've hurt her--”

“It's not him,” Quinn says quickly. “It's...” she trails off, looking over her shoulder as if she's afraid she's being followed.

“Is it...the thing? The thing that gave you your powers?” Her eyes meet mine, and there's something in them that I've seen before. A mixture of relief and loss. It was the same look she gave me when she learned that the illness that had plagued her since childhood was gone.

“You make it sound like I'm a superhero. The things I could do before...I doubt I'd be able to do them again. I lost my connection to the presence after the rocket hit.”

“How do you know it's gone?”

“I tried reaching out to it again. I wanted to fly, to see if I could find everyone. But...I couldn't.”

“So...whatever it was got...used up? No more superpowers?”

“A lot less superpowers,” she clarifies. “I constantly feel...hollow. Incomplete. Like the most important part of me got taken away.”

“What do you mean?” Michelle asks.

Quinn draws away from me, turning back toward the sea. “I'm so sorry, everyone. I remember everything...What I did...what I felt when it was controlling me. The Island's Heart is broken into two halves. The presence wanted to find them desperately.”

“That would explain...a few things,” I say thoughtfully. “Then we need to get back the piece Rourke took and try to find the rest of it.”

“...We do?” Diego asks, startled.

“The Heart contains so much energy. More than you could imagine. If Rourke gets both halves, he'll be able to alter time however he wants.” Quinn clutches her chest, staggering a little. “It's like I'm chained to it. And anytime it pulls me, it hurts.”

“We gotta fix this,” Jake murmurs.

“It's okay,” Diego says, trying and failing to cover his anxiety. “Everything's gonna be alright. I'm sure there's something we can do...right?”

“There is,” Estela says firmly. “We can start by getting the other half before Rourke does.”

Varyyn nods. “Agreed. The Hydra has no right to command the Heart.”

“How would we find it, though?” I ask. “It wasn't exactly a cakewalk getting to the first half at Elyys'tel.”

“...I think I can bring us to its location,” Quinn says.

Behind us, Malatesta growls, crossing his arms over his chest. He is clearly not pleased by the direction of this conversation. Yvonne rolls her eyes.

“Zut alors, Mal, are you truly so thick-headed?”

“I don't care what kind of bet we made! This is still my ship! You lot won't be using it for your nonsense!”

“Mon dieu, I really cannot believe you! In any case, this is not your ship anymore! We are going to help Alodia's friend whether you like it or not.”

“So it's a 'we' now, Yvie? Since when did you reduce yourself to traipsing about with children?”

“Watch it, Davy Groans!” Jake snaps. “You're a little outnumbered here.”

Malatesta puffs his chest, swaggering up to Jake, who draws himself up to his full height and locks eyes with the pirate. Yvonne stomps her boot against the deck.

“Arrete!” she snaps. Suddenly, her expression changes. She strolls up to Malatesta, her hips swaying. Jake raises an eyebrow as she gets between him and the pirate, laying a hand on the blond man's chest and easing him back.

“I think I like where this is going.”

“I think you'll want to cooperate with mes amis enfants, Mal.”

Malatesta turns his impressive height on Yvonne, crossing his arms across his broad chest. “Oh? And what makes you say that?”

Yvonne grasps his lapels, pulling him down to match her short stature and brings her lips to his ear. I can't make out what she says, but Malatesta's eyes go wide.

“You wouldn't dare! You detest me!”

“Perhaps, just perhaps, I could be persuaded...”

As the two of them begin exchanging furtive remarks in whispered French, the rest of us watch in dumbfounded silence.

“You could cut the tension out here with a curved blade,” Diego remarks. Finally, Malatesta raises his sour gaze, pinning it on the rest of us.

“All right, we'll have it your way, but you'll follow my instructions all the way there! This is a pirate ship, not a play pen!”

Jake grins, saluting him. “Aye aye, Cap'n Crunch.”

As conversation resumes buzzing around me, I inch over to Yvonne. “So, what did you say to him to make him change his mind,” I ask under my breath.

Yvonne merely winks at me. “I never kiss and tell.”

Malatesta grumbles under his breath, pulling a flask from his coat and gulping its contents. “God help me.” He glares daggers at us all. “All right, beds are down below. Witch, stay put for navigation. Out with all of you!”

Quinn heads over to the helm and begins turning it with all her diminutive might. She smiles down at us. “Welcome aboard, everyone!”

On the ship's lower level, we find a series of crude bunks and hammocks with patchy blankets and shapeless pillows sewn from canvas and stuffed with feathers. Jake climbs into a corner bunk and holds out his arms to me.

“Room for another, Princess.” I smile and remove my armor before curling up with him. I'm asleep the moment my head hits the rough, shapeless pillow.

The next thing I am aware of is the sound of splashing, followed by Raj's yelping voice.

“No! Don't eat me! I know my name is on the menu, but that doesn't mean...Oh...I was asleep.”

I lift my head, blinking sleep from my eyes. Jake seems to have gotten up already, but Malatesta is there, glaring down at me, Raj, and Michelle, a wooden bucket full of seawater in his hand.

“Up with you!” he barks. “There's work to be done! This is a pirate ship, not a lodge!”

“I'm up! I'm up!” Raj answers with just a hint of a whine in his voice. “Geez, dude.”

Michelle rolls out of her hammock, inching away from Malatesta, eying the bucket in his hand. “Rude,” she mutters.

Malatesta turns to me, holding up the bucket threateningly. “And you, baby lioness? Will you also need encouragement?”

I scowl defiantly at him. “Don't you dare. It's hard enough to keep my hair nice these days without you dumping seawater on it!”

“An attack on Alodia's hair is an attack on my hair!” Michelle adds. “And you don't attack my hair.”

“Out!” Malatesta bellows. “All of ye!”

“I'll be right up,” I tell Raj and Michelle. “Just need to re-armor. Never know when we're gonna run into trouble in this place.”

I carefully secure the amber pieces into place and wander up onto the deck, where the others are milling about. Diego spots me and grins.

“Ahoy, Allie. Looks like it's a pirate's life for us!”

I grin back. “Your lifelong dream.”

“Scrawny one!” Malatesta snaps. “I told ye to clean those scuppers!”

Diego sighs. “Yeah, okay, but you never explained what scuppers even are...”

“Bonjour, Alodia!” Yvonne's voice comes from above me, and I look up to see her in the crow's nest, her legs dangling over the edge, a spyglass in her hand. I wave back to her before wandering over to the prow, where Jake and Raj are organizing bundles of rope. Jake is demonstrating an elaborate, many-looped knot, his calloused fingers moving deftly and surely.

“It's not that hard, Pineapple Express. You're overthinking it.”

“How are you so good at this?” Raj grumbles.

“Naval Academy taught a little, but I kept learning as a hobby. You'd be surprised at some of the situations where it comes in handy.”

“Is that so?” I can't resist asking. He starts a little at the sound of my voice, and I see a blush creep over his cheeks.

“Oh, Princess! Didn't see you there.”

I grin wickedly. “Please, I'd love to hear about all the practical applications of tying rope.”

Jake coughs into his fist. He looks like he's about to reply, but a cry from Yvonne above us interrupts him.

“Mes amis! You'll want to see this!” She descends the ladder down to the deck in a few graceful bounds and rushes over to hand me the spyglass, pointing towards the shore. I raise the glass to my eye and look in the direction she's indicating. My heart drops, splashing into my stomach. Sean and Craig are on the shore, bound, gagged, on their knees and surrounded by Arachnid troops.

“Sean and Craig.” My voice quivers. “And Arachnid. They've been captured.”

“You see them?” Michelle asks anxiously.

“Let me see.” I pass the spyglass to Estela. She peers through it and frowns. “...Did you see who else is there?”

She hands the spyglass back to me, and I look again, letting the lens drift away from my captive friends. As two more familiar faces come into view, I wince.

“It's Aleister. ...And Mike.” I yelp when I see them board a military speedboat. The other soldiers pull Sean and Craig to their feet and drag them toward the vessel. “They're getting on a boat!”

“Not on my damned watch!” Jake growls. “Let's board them. Now.”

I lower the spyglass and turn to Jake, knowing my worry is reflected on my face. “Jake, Mike almost killed us before. ...Are you sure we can stop him?”

“I can't just not try, Alodia. I can't.” He rubs a hand over his face. “Just focus on getting Sean and Craig to safety. I'll handle Mike.”

Malatesta clears his throat impatiently. “Quit yer gawking! There's much to be done!”

“Gawking?!” Quinn whirls on him, her sapphire eyes snapping with rare fury. “Our friends have been kidnapped! Are you really gonna try to stop us from rescuing them?!”

“Stop you? Miss Witch, I'm going to help you!” He smirks. “This is a pirate ship, not a peace vessel. You wanna raid a ship? Ye're speaking my language.”

Yvonne chuckles. “Nice to see you in bonne humeur for once, you sludge-eating flatfish.”

“Don't play nice, you conniving harpy! You'll not take more booty than me! Miss Witch, take us starboard!”

“Aye, aye!” Quinn agrees, dashing for the helm. “Changing course!”

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to find Yvonne beside me. “If you are joining us on a raid, ma chere, you should fly our colors.”

“...What?”

“That beautiful armor is more befitting of a knight than a pirate. Besides, it is too heavy for a battle upon La Mer. Come.”

She grasps my hand and pulls me across the deck to where a plain chest sits between a couple barrels. She swiftly kicks the chest open, revealing garments of soft muslin and tailored leather.

“Woah...”

“Remove those amber pieces, quickly,” she orders me. “I'll find you something suitable.” She rummages around, yanking out several pieces and draping them over her arm, while I get out of my armor as fast as I can manage. Within a few minutes, I've swapped armor and the leggings and tank top I had been wearing underneath for a linen shirt, leather bodice, breeches, and boots. I look myself over and grin at my friends. I have to admit, I like the look.

“Arrr, me hearties!” I crow.

Diego laughs. “Yaaas! Jack Sparrow's got nothing on you!”

“Color me impressed,” Michelle agrees. “You somehow manage to make ren faire clothes look good.”

Jake looks up and does a double take, his jaw dropping. I waggle my eyebrows.

“Like what you see, sailor?”

“Damn, Princess. You can board my ship any time.”

I take just enough time to wink at him before hurrying to the side of the ship and raising the spyglass to my eye again. Aleister's narrow gaze is pinned on The Dorado. He turns to shout orders to the soldiers. The troops take up formation on the speedboat and raise their guns. The engine revs to life.

“They're trying to run for it! We'll never catch them in this ship!”

“Aye? Then I'd say it's time to even the odds. Miss Witch, bring us in! Yvonne, catch the sail to the wind!” Malatesta catches my eye and points to a pile of giant chains and a spear tip the size of my head. “Little Lioness, hook the spearhead to the boom chains, and then load it into the cannon!”

It takes me a couple of seconds, but I manage to hook the spearhead onto the heavy chain, and load it into the cannon. Under Malatesta's approving eye, I fasten the first chainlink onto the barrel.

Diego whistles. “You're a natural at this pirate thing, Allie.”

Malatesta prepares the flint rocks, looking down at me. “That was just the first test, Little Lioness. Once I light it, aim at the boat's broadside.” He whips around to the others. “Cover your ears and hold onto something!”

He strikes the flint, bringing the fuse to life. I throw my weight into holding the cannon's aim steady at the military ship's flank.

“There?”

“Aye, we'll make a salty dog out of ye yet! Now hold on!”

A deafening explosion rips through the air. The recoil sends me sprawling across the deck as the spearhead launches from the cannon with chains trailing behind like a kite tail. I scramble to my feet, watching anxiously. Just when it looks like the speedboat is getting too far ahead, the sharp blade pierces its metal-clad hull. The military ship lurches wildly as it's snared by the boom chain. Through the ringing in my ears, I start to make out shouting from the other ship. On the deck of The Dorado, everyone springs into action, rushing to prepare for boarding.

Malatesta claps me on the back. “Well done, lass! Now, I got three things to tell ye about raiding. One, don't die.”

Arachnid soldiers are taking aim at the boom chain, but their bullets ricochet harmlessly off the heavy links. Raj has found an armory cabinet and is pulling out swords and daggers, sliding them to the others.

“So what if they got guns! We're gonna slice, dice, and julienne them! ...And that just made me hungry...”

“Raj!” I call. “Over here!” He slides a cutlass over to me. I scoop it up and take a few practice swings before sliding it into the sheath at my belt.

“Secondly,” Malatesta continues, apparently unphased by the interruption, “the sea's as much a weapon as any blade. Use her to your advantage.”

The stretch of water between the two sea vessels is closing quickly. Jake pulls out a rope net covered in iron weights.

“We can subdue a bunch of them with this!”

“And three,” Malatesta concludes, raising his voice to address all of us, “TAKE NO PRISONERS!”

“Except, you know, our friends!” Diego clarifies hastily. “Who are prisoners. We want them.”

“Come, mes amis! A l'abordage!” Yvonne and Malatesta grab free-hanging ropes. Jake, Estela, Raj, and I immediately leap up to do the same. Looking down at the vast expanse of water beneath me, feeling the wind whip at my hair, I feel my heart wedge in my throat for a moment. Steeling myself, I open my mouth to let out a battle cry.

“For Sean and Craig!” I scream, taking a wild leap. For a moment, I'm free-falling. Then, the rope pulls taut and I swing towards the Arachnid speedboat. When I can see something solid beneath me, I let go, dropping gracefully onto the rear deck. Sean and Craig have been lashed to the rails on the far side of the deck. They cry out around their gags when they see us, struggling against their bonds.

“Enemy sighted!” I hear the modulated voice of an Arachnid soldier, and the click of weapons being readied and aimed.

“Stop!” Aleister's voice is shrill with alarm. “Don't shoot! All of you stand down!”

“What?!” one soldier cries. “We are literally being attacked!”

Aleister glares at the soldier, his breath coming through gritted teeth. “I represent Everett Rourke here, and I order you to stand down!”

The masked soldiers hesitate a moment, looking between each other. Finally, they lower their weapons. Aleister turns to stare at us, shock and disbelief plain on his face.

“Y-you're alive...you're all alive...”

“No thanks to you,” Estela snaps.

“Father said you tried to escape. That you were all gunned down. That you'd all rather die than be his prisoners.”

“Get a grip, Malfoy!” Jake growls. “For how smart you act, you're good at playing dumb when it's convenient!”

“That's not--”

“Think about it! Your father has lied to you your entire life. Why would this be any different?!”

“Aleister,” I say softly. “Rourke tried to kill us the moment you left with Grace.”

My words seem to fall like a physical blow. Aleister recoils, trembling. “I...I didn't know,” he whispers. “I swear. I'm so sorry!”

“Like hell you are!” Estela snarls. “If you're so sorry, why are our friends tied up and held at gunpoint?!”

Aleister's eyes dart between us as if searching for an escape route. He runs his hands through his hair. “It...it's complicated...”

Mike strides up beside Aleister, his bionic eye glinting menacingly in the sunlight. “Sir. The hostages are our first priority.”

I feel Jake faltering beside me. “Aw, Mike,” he says plaintively. “You'd never go along with this! Is any of you left in there? Wake up!”

Mike is still as a statue. Only his arm moves, arching slowly upward to level a gun at Jake. Impulsively, I get between them. Malatesta draws a pistol, aiming it at Mike.

“This is an awful lot of talking for a raid. We fighting or not?”

“Alodia!” Aleister looks at me with desperation in his eyes. “You're the leader here. Where you go, the others will follow. You know that, right? ...Walk away. Please. Just walk away. I don't want to hurt you.”

Still planted firmly between Jake and Mike, I put my hand on the hilt of my cutlass. “I don't leave without Sean and Craig.”

The desperation in his eyes gives way to heartbreak. “...You're a damned fool, Alodia.” Then the heartbreak turns to cold resignation. “So be it. Guards! Capture them! Keep them alive!”

The troops immediately take up defensive positions around Aleister, Sean, and Craig.

“Yvie,” Malatesta murmurs. “Ye still got your perfume?”

“I never leave shore without it.” From the pouch at her waist, she pulls out a small ball with a pin in it. Malatesta takes it, bites the pin, and tosses it towards the deck. As it rolls at the soldiers' feet, a smoke screen starts to pour out of it, spreading rapidly.

“Stay together!” one soldier cries. Through the haze, two fists that crackle with electricity rapidly materialize.

“Ready to dance, kid?” a feminine voice growls behind the mask in front of me. The tossing waves throw The Dorado into the side of the Arachnid vessel. As the deck tilts beneath my feet and I stumble into one of the box-shaped objects mounted on the deck, a metal pail rolls across the deck and taps my ankle. At that moment, Malatesta's voice echoes in my mind: ...the sea is a weapon...

The Arachnid soldier recovers and leaps at me to throw an electric fist into my face. I drop down, evading her high-aimed punch, and sweep my leg at her feet. As the ship lurches again, the soldier is flung into the railing. I press the advantage, grabbing her by the ankle and shifting my weight to flip her into the water. I hear a muffled cheer that I recognize as Craig's voice.

The wind rising off the sea quickly disperses the smoke cloud, revealing a chaotic battlefield. Diego and Varyyn have made it across. Varyyn climbs towards the helm to engage Mike, and a flurry of expert blows and dodges fly between them.

“As the humans say,” Varyyn snarls, “'Get wrecked'!”

“I've never been more proud,” Diego calls up to him with an encouraging smile.

Towards the prow, Yvonne and Malatesta stand back to back, peppering the soldiers with pistol blasts. It seems they've brought at least half a dozen pistols each.

“When was the last time we did this, Yvie? The Santo Domingo rum heist?”

“Oui, that was a good night. And good rum!”

On the rear deck, Estela bends backwards to dodge a punch. Jake closes his hands around a fist and sends the soldier reeling. Raj hides behind them, clutching the weighted net. Then, there are two soldiers in front of me, cutting off my view of the rest of the ship. One has a beatstick and the other a sleek, modern pistol. The beatstick flies towards my head, and I barely manage to duck under it in time. I leap back to my feet, only to realize I've popped up too quickly when the blunt weapon swings back around and catches me hard on the shoulder. I yelp in pain, stumbling.

“Alodia!” I hear Jake's frantic voice answering my cry.

“Jake, flank 'em!” I scream.

“On it, Princess!” Jake rolls under a soldier, and Estela spears her down. Keeping low, he flings a dagger that catches the pistol-weilding Arachnid in the hand. The soldier cries out, dropping his weapon. I leap at the one with the beatstick, knocking the weapon from his hand. I throw my whole weight into slamming the hilt of my sword into his head and he slumps to the deck.

“Allie, look out!” Diego's voice makes me turn. Beaten back by Varyyn, Mike has leveled his gun at me. I prepare to dive, but Aleister shoves the gun from Mike's hand.

“Do not kill her!” he shouts. I continue toward Sean and Craig, pulling a knife from my belt. I cut their gags off first. They both cough and stretch their jaws.

“Alodia!” Sean gasps. “You're here!”

“Yeah Alodia is!” Craig cries. “We owe you big time!”

I glance briefly back at Jake, Yvonne, Malatesta, and Varyyn, covering me while I free the two men. I cut through the ropes around their wrists as quickly as possible.

“Don't mention it.” I cut Craig free and start on Sean. “You guys okay?”

Sean's bonds snap open and he pulls his hands free. In the same moment, his eyes widen. “Duck!” he yelps.

I drop into a crouch. Above me, Sean catches an Arachnid soldier by the baton and twists it from their hands, bringing it back to connect solidly with their head. The soldier hits the deck and doesn't move. Sean looks down at me, breathing hard.

“Alodia...I'll never let you down again.”

I blink, startled enough that I almost forget where I am. “Sean--”

“Shit!” Jake's frustrated cry distracts me. I leap back to my feet and immediately notice the second speedboat racing towards us, laden with more Arachnid troops. “Jesus, how many people did Lundgren recruit?! Being Arachnid used to mean something!”

“Take Aleister!” Estela shouts. “They won't harm us if we have him!”

Yvonne aims her pistol at Aleister and gestures with the barrel at The Dorado. “Cross over to our ship!” she barks.

Aleister looks helplessly at her. “I've already tried to tell you--”

“Va! Tout suite!”

Aleister sighs, but however reluctantly, he jumps the narrowing gap between the two vessels. With Yvonne covering us, we manage to escape back to The Dorado. By the time I reach the deck, Michelle is already tying Aleister up. He yelps in protest as she pulls the ropes tight.

“Th-that hurts!”

“Good!” she growls.

“Michelle!”

Michelle's eyes snap up at the sound of Sean's voice. Forgetting Aleister for a moment, she rushes over to throw her arms around his neck. He catches her up in a tight embrace.

“Sean! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I'm okay. Are you?”

“Guys, we gotta go!” Craig shouts. “The other ship is coming!”

“We're not goin' anywhere without Mike!” Jake's voice is a desperate snarl.

“Uh...Jake...?” Diego's voice trembles as he points to a figure hovering in the sky. “I think he feels the same way.”

Mike's jetpack lowers him onto The Dorado's deck. He scowls at us, his bionic eye flashing in the sunlight.

“Return Aleister to the Arachnid vessel.”

“Or what?” Jake asks lowly, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Mike answers by engaging his jetpack to rush at him, but this time Jake is faster. He ducks and tackles Mike from the side, grappling him to the deck. They roll together, trading haphazard blows.

“Alodia!” Estela hisses. “Say something! Stop him! The longer this fight drags out...”

I don't need her to finish that sentence. I know I should tell Jake to let Mike go. Promise we'll get him back next time. But I can't. I of all people can't ask the man I love to leave his best friend.

“Jake! Make him remember!”

Jake rolls on top of Mike and pins his arms down. “Mike, listen to me! Remember that time in basic training when we filled the shower heads with sand and we had latrine duty for weeks? ...Or...how about that time we got our C.O.'s radio stuck on the kids' channel and had to listen to Dora the Explorer for two hours on loop...?” Mike doesn't seem to react. I feel my heart breaking as Jake continues, his voice getting tighter and more desperate. “...Or the crap Lundgren did? Or how he almost killed us for finding him out? Or my! Fucking! Name?!”

He pounds the floorboards beside Mike's head, howling in agony and frustration. Mike keeps still, not even flinching. Sobs bubble up in Jake's chest and make his shoulders heave. He looks just about ready to give up. He even rises to his feet and starts to turn away.

“...Grandpa...” Mike's voice is soft, but it gets Jake's attention. He inhales sharply, turning back.

“...Mike...? Mike, can you hear m--” With lightning speed, Mike pops upright and throws his fist squarely into Jake's chest with enough force to send him crashing at my feet.

“Jake!” His name comes out of me in a terrified shriek as I drop to my knees beside him. I feel my veins turn to ice as he curls toward me, coughing violently and spraying the deck with flecks of blood. Michelle rushes over to kneel at his other side.

“Mouse, stop!” Aleister cries. “That's enough!”

“Jake, can you roll onto your back?” Michelle murmurs. “Alodia, help him. And get his jacket off him.”

“No more time,” I hear Mike say flatly. Jake moans as I help him out of his jacket. “We must go.”

The others cluster protectively around Jake as I cradle him on my lap, clutching his hand while Michelle lifts his shirt to examine his ribs. Taking advantage of our distraction, Mike moves to grab Aleister, cutting through the binding around his wrists with a small knife.

“Wait!” Sean cries. He steps forward, staring at Aleister.

“Sean, what are you doing?!” I yelp.

He doesn't answer me, looking into Aleister's eyes. “W-we never spoke much, but...I know what it's like to live in someone's shadow. You don't owe your father anything, Aleister. His praise isn't worth this.” He holds out his hand. Aleister stares at it in disbelief.

“Wh-what...?”

“Come with us. Try to make up for your mistakes. Help us win this.”

“Sean!” Michelle snaps. “Two seconds ago, he had you at gunpoint!”

“You sure picked...kff...a great time to have Stockholm Syndrome, P-Pretty Boy,” Jake gasps.

But I have images in my mind of a small idol forged from amber, shaped like a priest with the head of a cobra. And of a puddle of blood trickling off the edge of a small pedestal. Aleister's blood. The Endless had an idol for him, too. If he had died at MASADA, I never would have passed the test at the Threshold. Traitor or not, he is one of us.

“Sean's right,” I say. “Aleister, come with us. I know you regret what you did, and it's not too late to set things right.”

“...You...you would give me another chance? Just like that?” Wetness gleams at the corners of his eyes. Sean smiles gratefully at me.

“I knew you'd understand, Alodia.”

“Are you kidding me?” Michelle yelps. Jake shakes his head hard.

“J-just because he didn't...sh-shoot us...doesn't mean he didn't...ungh...load the gun! I ain't buyin'...any of this!”

Mike grabs Aleister's arm. The other Arachnid boat is waiting in the choppy waters nearby.

“We must go now.”

Aleister's shoulders slump. “...It's too late, anyway. The die is cast.” But there's a change in his expression now. He meets my eyes, and I hold his gaze as he grasps the straps of Mike's suit. As the two of them hover toward the approaching speedboat, Aleister still doesn't look away. As he vanishes from sight, I am left with the impression of remorse. Jake slumps in my arms, coughing weakly.

“...Mike...” he moans. As Michelle presses on the angry bruise forming on his ribs, a cry of pain catches in his throat, turning into a spasm of coughing that brings up another glob of blood. His grip on my hand is hard enough to hurt.

“Jake, you may have a bruised lung,” Michelle says grimly. “I need you to stay put for now.”

“Just try to rest,” I murmur, brushing sweat-damp strands of hair off his ashen forehead. He looks agonizingly up at me, a film of tears coating his eyes. “We'll find him, Jake. We'll find him and fix him. I promise.”

“Alodia, help me prop up his left side. It might help him breathe easier.” I do as Michelle tells me, piling discarded cloth under his left side, wincing at every pained noise he makes.

“...Will he be okay?”

“We'll keep him under close watch,” she replies, which does not reassure me much. “Jake, I know it hurts, but I need you to keep coughing periodically, deep as you can. The last thing you need is pneumonia setting in.”

Jake doesn't answer directly. He closes his eyes, and I feel his grip on my hand tighten subtly. “Hey, Maybelline...can you take a look at Princess's shoulder? She took a pretty nasty blow there.”

“Which shoulder?”

“What? Oh...the right.” Michelle comes over to examine it. “It's fine, though. I mean, it's not—ungh!” I grunt a little, wincing as she presses on the spot. Jake releases my hand to let Michelle manipulate my shoulder. For a moment, the only sounds are the lapping of waves against the ship's hull, Jake's labored breathing, and my own suppressed gasps. Then Raj speaks up.

“Uh...did we just successfully rescue Sean and Craig?”

Craig laughs. “Buddy, I've never been happier to see you! Come here!” The two embrace wildly, slapping each other's backs.

Yvonne and Malatesta have already begun raiding the abandoned vessel still chained to The Dorado.

“Yvie, ye better not cheat me! We loot together!”

“Mal, do you think I would steal from you? Because you're right.”

“...You'll be all right, Alodia,” Michelle murmurs. “It's just a bad bruise. It's not dislocated or broken or anything.”

“Thanks...”

I turn my attention back to Jake, stroking his hair. He opens his eyes to meet my gaze, but he doesn't speak. Michelle stands and wanders over to the side of the ship where the others are gathering, and embraces Sean again. He hugs her back.

“Sean, I'm so glad you're safe.”

“Same to you,” he says. “We got a lot to catch up on. But...I'd like to check in with Alodia first...”

Hearing my name, I lift my head to meet Sean's eyes. Michelle smiles up at him.

“Go on. But we're catching up later. I'm holding you to that.”

“I wouldn't expect any less.” He gives her another squeeze before making his way over to me. I stand up, holding out my arms for a hug, but he takes me gently by the shoulders instead, studying my face as if he can't actually believe I'm standing in front of him. I shift a little awkwardly.

“...I'm not a ghost, Sean.”

“You're really here. You really made it.”

“Remarkably, yeah.”

“...Last I saw of you, you were falling into the ocean.”

“And you were on a crashing helicopter. ...And Quinn had just been blown up. ...Believe me, Sean, I'm just as shocked to see all five of you mostly unscathed.”

Sean swallows hard, tears gathering in his eyes. “I'm so sorry, Alodia...”

I blink. “...Uh...for what?”

“What do you mean, for what?! I wasn't there for you when you fell out of the chopper! I mean...I didn't have a plan. I couldn't protect everyone.”

I take a deep breath, gathering my patience. I love Sean as much as the rest of the Catalysts, but I can't help but wonder when he's going to get it into his head that he doesn't have to be the hero all the time. That some things are outside his control, especially on this island...

“Sean, seriously. It's not your fault.”

“Guys...” Craig pipes up, his expression of elation giving way to worry. “You haven't seen Zahra yet, have you?”

Everyone goes quiet for a moment, the momentary elation of our reunion dampened by the weight of the fact that we are still incomplete. We all shake our heads. I drift back to Jake's side to take his hand again. Craig's gaze falls to the deck. Michelle reaches out to rub his shoulder comfortingly.

“Zahra's the smartest of all of us, Craig. I'm sure she's out there.”

“She better be. 'Cause if she's not, Rourke is gonna pay.” His expression falters slightly as a wobble enters his voice. “I-I know she's tough, but after all these weeks, she might--”

“Hold up!” Michelle interrupts. “Weeks?! It's only been a few days for us!”

“It's been a month since I've seen all of you,” Quinn says.

“Wait, we've all been experiencing different wavelengths of time within the island?” I ask incredulously.

“Have we ruled out being in the Matrix?” Diego quips. “Or is that still a possibility?”

“Something's changed,” Sean murmurs. “La Huerta wasn't like this before.”

Yvonne, combing through her plunder nearby, catches my eye and gives me a meaningful look. I shrink a little from her gaze, feeling my stomach clench. I know what she's trying to communicate to me, and I know she's right. I just wish she weren't. I take a deep breath.

“Look...there's something I should probably tell you guys...” But I trail off when I notice Quinn slumped and gasping against the railing, her face twisted with pain.

“It's...happening again...” she groans through clenched teeth. Michelle and Estela hurry to brace her. Concerned, Jake lifts his head, and I help him sit up.

“Is Quinn okay?” Sean asks anxiously.

“Not exactly,” Diego answers grimly. “It's actually why we were here. A piece of the Island's Heart is nearby. And when it calls to Quinn...it hurts her.”

“It...it wants me to go...there.” Quinn aims a quivering finger at a large atoll along the coast.

Malatesta looks where she's pointing and shakes his head. “Reefs are too dangerous to ford with the ship. We'll have to send her in a rowboat.”

Quinn looks at him sharply, eyes widening. “S-send me...alone?” she asks, her voice small.

“Nobody goes alone,” Estela replies firmly. “I'll go with her.”

“You're both basically sisters to me,” Michelle declares, “and sisters don't split up.”

“If you're all going, I wanna go, too,” Raj chimes in. As Diego, Sean, and Craig echo everyone else's sentiments, Malatesta sighs in irritation.

“A tamed monkey could do this task alone! Why're all of you going?!”

“Well, you know I'm going with everyone,” I say, ignoring Malatesta.

“Good,” Diego says, grinning at me.

“Are you having me on?!” Malatesta squawks. “What manner of lily-livered, hand-holdin'--”

“We all lost each other once already,” Estela snaps. “We're not splitting up just after finding each other again.”

We all turn to Estela with raised eyebrows. We were all thinking it, of course, we just didn't expect her to be the one to say it. She clears her throat, blushing deeply. Jake smirks.

“Guys, I think Katniss is finally opening up to us.”

“Shut up, cabrón,” she mutters, even as a smile plays around her mouth.

“Basically, what she's saying is that we're all in this together,” Diego says. “Nobody gets left behind or forgotten.”

“Two boats should fit all of us,” Jake remarks. “I can swim down to ge--” He cuts himself off with a cough that turns into another, and then a third. The fourth one brings up another bloody glob, and he slumps a little in my arms, groaning. With the edge of my sleeve, I gently blot sweat off his forehead. Michelle shakes her head grimly.

“Jake, in your condition, the last place you should be right now is underwater.”

Craig claps Sean on the shoulder. “Looks like you're up, brah!” But Sean's expression suddenly resembles a deer in headlights.

“I...I don't know if I'm at my best right now...”

“Then I'll go with you.” I meet Sean's eyes. “You haven't let anyone down, Sean. But if you need some support right now, I'm offering. We can handle this together.”

He looks at me for a long moment. His eyes shift over to Quinn, still supported between Michelle and Estela, then down towards Jake, breathing laboriously in my arms. He meets my eyes again and smiles a little.

“Spoken like a born leader.”

“Takes one to know one,” I counter.

“Let us depart, then!” Yvonne calls enthusiastically. “Prepare the rowboats!”

“Well you're not leaving me behind!” Malatesta snarls, his face the color of raw meat. “I was promised a crew, and I can't trust you not to galavant off on your own! And we better make it quick! While the sun's still high!” He marches over to yank a tarp off a pair of rowboats on the deck, muttering curses under his breath.

* * *

The sea under the boats is gentle as Malatesta and Yvonne row us into the atoll, following Quinn's directions. We can't help but take a moment to marvel at the kaleidoscope of colorful fish, coral, and plant life shimmering underneath the water's surface.

“Welcome to Neptune Cove,” Malatesta announces. “A great place to show a wench a good time.”

“Poor wench,” Yvonne teases.

I frown. ...Neptune Cove... Something about that name tugs at my memory. I feel certain I've heard it before, but at the moment, I can't place it.

“Broskies, are you seeing these colors?” Craig breathes.

“I've heard some fish have psychadelic effects when you eat 'em!” Raj remarks, grinning.

Diego laughs. “Guys, look! I found Nemo!”

“Is that your people's name for that fish?” Varyyn asks. “How fascinating.”

“I wonder if I could use some fresh-cut seaweed in a facial,” Michelle muses. Sean cranes his neck over the edge and whistles lowly.

“How far down does it go? I can't even see the bottom.”

“You'll see soon enough, Michael Phelps,” Jake quips. As jagged coral formations start to catch along the undersides of the rowboats, Yvonne and Malatesta draw the oars inside.

“This appears to be the furthest we can take you,” Yvonne remarks. Quinn, huddled up in Michelle's arms, looks up at the rest of us. Her face is pale and tight with pain.

“It's definitely close by,” she confirms, her voice weak. “Feels like it wants to rip me through the boat.”

“That's a deep reef,” Jake remarks. “You got anything to help you breathe underwater?” I can't tell if he's talking to me or Quinn, but I give him a quick kiss.

“You just worry about breathing up here, Top Gun.”

As Sean strips off his shirt, I pull off my boots and bodice. After a moment, I cast aside the shirt and breeches, too. I don't want to sit in wet clothes all day.

“Ready, Alodia?”

I nod. “Ready when you are.”

Balancing on the edge of the rowboat, I arch my arms over my head and dive into the reef. The water is pleasantly warm. A few seconds later, tepid pulses hit me as Sean dives in beside me. I open my eyes to let them adjust to the saltwater, and I can't help but take a moment to appreciate the beauty of my surroundings. There's a perfect circle of sea anemones, fronds of jagged coral, filled with deep crevices, and a peculiar sand dune. I surface for a moment to meet eyes with Sean.

“Should we just go for it?” he asks uncertainly.

“Nothing else we can do, I think.”

I take a deep breath and dive again, going for the sand dune. Sean follows me, taking my hand to help pull me down faster. I stretch out a hand and plunge my fingers into the sand. A golden cloud of sand billows up, obscuring my vision, and I grope blindly. My fingers brush something solid, and I grasp it, just as my lungs are starting to burn. I push off the sea floor and hurtle back towards the surface, breaching with a deep breath. Sean surfaces beside me, disappointment plain on his face.

“...We didn't find it, did we?”

I look at the object in my hand. It's not the Island's Heart, to be sure. It appears to be a brass padlock, aged and corroded by saltwater. I turn it over, and find some words etched into the back, just barely readable: No land, no sea, no one will keep us apart. Flora & Eugene, 1920.

“Huh. It's unlocked.”

“...It's not the Heart...” Sean punches the water in frustration, sending up a splash.

“Easy, Sean. It's nearby here. We can try again.”

“I can't!”

I sigh. “Hey, Sean--”

“I said I can't, okay?! I can't do it! I can't do anything without screwing up and someone getting hurt! The whole time, I've tried to be the Q.B. Call the shots. Do everything right! And where are we now?! At the end of the world, some of us missing, some of us hurt...”

“Sean, this isn't your fault. I don't care how strong or how tough you think you are. You can't shoulder the blame for things that were out of your control.”

“...I...”

“You didn't know we were going to be stuck on this island, or about Rourke, or any of this.”

“...I could have done more. Made better split decisions.”

“Oh my god, will you cut yourself a break?!” My voice rises to a shout. Partly because I am losing patience with him, but also because he has responded to tough love in the past. “We're all out of our depths here! Even Jake and Estela—an elite military pilot and an honest-to-god revolutionary—have been groping in the dark most of the time we've been here! Every day, we're doing all we can just to survive. And somehow, we're doing it. So stop blaming yourself for everything and come help me find a magical rock with space-time powers, please?”

Sean looks away. His cheeks are wet, but I can't tell if it's seawater or tears. He is quiet for a very long time. Long enough for me to figure out that tough love wasn't going to cut it this time.

“...You don't understand, Alodia. Ever since I kicked my dad's abusive, alcoholic ass out of the house, I've done everything to carry the load. I didn't want to be a burden on anyone. Not like he was. But now, after all that's happened...you saving my ass, keeping us going...I just don't know how to keep pretending like I'm good at this.”

I stare at him for a long moment, entirely lost for words. In all this time, I have tried again and again to make him understand. I have scolded. I have soothed. But somehow, I cannot reach the heart of him. I cannot reach the depths of his fears. Just as I feel frustration and despair creeping into my heart, the water around us begins to shimmer. I inhale sharply.

“Sean, do you see that?”

Beside us, a ghostly, featureless head breaches the surface of the water.

“Alodia, get behind me!” Sean pushes himself between me and the ghost. Unfazed, the figure withdraws something small and shiny and holds it out to Sean. It's a gold-plated watch.

“That's...not possible! It doesn't exist anymore...” The figure imploringly pushes the watch at Sean.

“What is that, Sean?”

“It's...my father's watch...” He looks helplessly at me. “Alodia, what do I do here? Do I...take it?”

“Take it. I think it will help.” When he still hesitates, I take it myself and hold it out to him. A part of me thinks it may only work with both of us touching it, anyway. Sure enough, as soon as he touches it, the world flashes white.

We are in a training room somewhere, with rubber floors, floruescent lights, an array of fitness equipment, and the faint odor of sweat that will probably never fade. Sean, dressed in a purple and black Condors uniform, sits crosslegged on the floor, pouring over the playbooks strewn in front of him.

“If the Seagulls' safety tries what he did last game--” His musing is interrupted by a crisp knock. A short woman wearing a Condors jersey rounds the corner. Sean looks up and smiles.

“Momma!”

The woman's name is Tricia Gayle. I don't question how I know this. She smiles at her son.

“There's my starting quarterback!” Sean stands to pull his mother into an embrace. She laughs. “Hold on, hold on! Lemme get a good look at you.”

She pulls out of his arms and cranes her neck to look up at Sean's face. He grins.

“Look all right?”

“Oh, those cameras won't know what to do with you!” she gushes.

“Well, hopefully they only catch me when I make the good plays.” Tricia steps back, launching into a cheer routine with invisible pompoms.

“Get 'em with a forward drive! Keep that winning streak alive! Get 'em Gayle, give 'em hayle! Goooo, Gayle!”

Sean looks like he's biting his cheek to keep from laughing. “Wow, okay. Did you just mispronounce 'hell' to rhyme with our name?”

“Chant's gotta rhyme somehow,” she replies with a shrug. Sean can't keep the laughter in anymore. Tricia joins him, and the two sink breathlessly down onto a bench. As their laughter dies down, the silence that follows is suddenly heavy. There is worry in Sean's eyes. Tricia puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Coach said you were working too hard. What's wrong, baby?”

Sean sighs. “...I've already had reporters ask me if Dad'll be here. They keep asking about what he's telling me. ...I'm glad we've kept everything under wraps, it's just...I'm trying to be a better man than he was. But it's like I can't stop feeling him over my shoulder.”

“Oh, Sean...” Tricia reaches up to cup his cheek and turn his face towards her. He smiles weakly.

“I know, I know. I'm not Dad. I'm a different person. I get it.”

“But he's a part of you, Sean. Just as I am. You can't just ignore someone that shaped so much of your life. I know you still have his watch in your desk drawer. You deserved so much more from him.”

“Yeah, well, we don't always get what we deserve. But even thinking of letting someone down a fraction of the way he did us...”

She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. “You have his strengths, too. He did actually have a few. Do you remember Thanksgiving the first year your dad was gone? How I wouldn't let anyone help me in the kitchen?”

“Oh, do I ever. Especially the trip to the E.R after you dropped the turkey pan on your foot.”

“I wanted to prove to everyone that I was fine without him. That I could do everything for everyone else, and take care of myself. 'What doesn't kill us makes us stronger,' I thought. The truth is, baby, no one is indestructible.” She chuckles ruefully. “My bones sure wished I sucked it up and asked you for help that day.”

He snorts. “I bet.”

“Reporters will say what they want about you. You can't control them. But don't let worrying about your father's mistakes push you into making your own.”

Sean exhales slowly. “Thanks, Momma. I...really needed to hear that.”

“That's why I said it. Just try to relax. Remember this is the beginning. You were the number one draft pick, and you're already defining your own legacy. Most important, remember that you don't have to carry the world on your shoulders. You got plenty of good folks to share the load with.”

Sean pulls her into a tender embrace. “...Thanks, Momma. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Now relax, take a breath, and go win your first game.”

When I find myself back in the ocean again, the sun is sinking low on the horizon. Sean stares at me, dumbfounded.

“...You okay?”

“Alodia, that was...” he swallows hard. “...That was just what I needed.”

He looks down at the watch. For the first time, I notice the inscription on the back: Marcus Gayle. The watch doesn't look like it's going to be able to tell time anymore, but as he clutches it to his chest, Sean smiles at me. I smile back.

“So, you're feeling better?”

“Lots.”

I look over at the ghostly figure, which has started to become hazy. Before it can fade completely, it beckons us down into the shining reef.

“...I think it wants us to follow it. ...I'm gonna do it.”

“Okay,” Sean agrees. “I'm coming too.”

He takes my hand to pull me down again. There is intense light coming from somewhere amid the coral formations. We swim fiercely after the rapidly descending spirit. When I reach the bottom and dare to glance at the source of the light, I catch sight of the shimmering edge of a broken sphere. I grab hold of it and let myself float to the surface.

By then, the sun has set. Stars are starting to appear in the dusky sky. I hold aloft the second half of the Island's Heart triumphantly. Sean stares at it, smiling faintly.

“You found it...”

I grin. “We found it. Give yourself some credit sometimes, huh?”

We dogpaddle back to the rowboats. As we approach, I hold up the Heart again, grinning.

“You did it!” Quinn exclaims.

“We had a little help,” I quip.

“What happened?” Diego asks, helping me into the boat. “From here, it looked like an Electric Light Parade.”

“Hey, if that glorified disco ball wants to show you houw to get to it, I'm not complaining,” Jake drawls.

Malatesta eyes the Heart. “...Mighty fine gem ye've got there.”

“Yes,” Michelle agrees, glaring at him. “And it's not yours.” She holds out her hand for the Heart. I pass it over and let her place it in her backpack. She keeps her eyes locked on Malatesta as she zips it up.

“We should get back to the ship before Rourke's men come searching for it,” Estela declares. Yvonne and Malatesta need no more encouragement. They take up the oars and begin rowing us back to The Dorado. I pull my clothes back on.

“Uh...Doodlejumps?” Raj suddenly speaks up, his voice quivering. “...Friends?” I look over at him. He aims a shaking finger at the water. I look. My blood runs cold. An enormous form is darkening the water underneath us. Through peaks of waves, I can make out dark fins writhing in the deep.

“Oh, no...” I whisper. “No, no, no, please...not now...”

A massive wave pummels the rowboats as a gaping maw rises in front of me, large enough to swallow both boats in a single gulp. Rows upon rows of sword-like teeth crackle with electricity that makes my hair stand on end. The massive serpentine beast is too close for me to make out his shimmering blue face, or his eyeless gaze, but I don't need to. I feel my heart sinking into my belly.

You are Andromeda, a voice in my head taunts. Did you really think you could escape Cetus?

#Endless Summer #Diego Ricardo Ortiz Soto #Jake McKenzie #sean gayle #raj bhandarkar #Craig Hsiao #aleister rourke #grace hall #michelle nguyen #zahra namazi #estela montoya #quinn kelly #play choices #pixelberry choices #choices stories you play

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attina-the-responsible · 6 years

Text

Sweet Dreams ~*~ [Self-para]

In which Attina reacts in the aftermath of Ariel’s deal with the sea witch...

[tw -- none? i guess talk of death?]

“Mum! What do I set the oven at?”

“350, dear, how many times have you done this?”

“Look,” Attina said, whirling around with her oven-mitted hands on her hips. “I’ve had a long three days and one glass of wine already and am suffering from a 10 plus hour jetlag, so forgive me if my memory isn’t perfect like yours.”

“Point taken,” agreed Athena, who was sitting at the island in their family home with more wrinkles than Attina had ever seen on her face (they were laughter lines, more than anything). It was just the two of them. Ariel was off with her friends, Alana and Adella were on their way back from uni for the weekend, coming in just to see Tina, Aquata was at class, Arista was upstairs practicing her sax (which drifted down the stairs, setting the rosy-hued mood), Andrina was—well, Attina didn’t know where Andrina was, actually, but she’d be home for dinner, and Daddy was at work.

It was just the two of them. Which was good. Because Attina needed her mother’s advice.

She plopped down on the stool next to her mother and swiped her re-filled wine off the counter and took a few big gulps.

“Are you going to tell me about it?” Athena asked, arching an eyebrow.

Attina held up a finger as she continued to gulp her wine down. When she finished half of it, she put it down on the counter top and frowned.

There was silence, except for the crooning of Arista’s sax.

“I don’t know what I did wrong this time,” Attina pouted. “I think Australian boys are a different species entirely.” She groaned dramatically and leaned all the way forwards, until her forehead was touching her mother’s thigh.

Athena’s hand fell on her eldest daughter’s hair, stroking through it once. “Technically, they are a different species,” Athena pointed out lightly.

Attina sat up again, rolling her head around to glare at her mother. “Subspecies.”

“Oh, right, my mistake.”

“Muuuum. I came alllll the way here,” she whined.

“Just to ask me for dating advice? Couldn’t you just Skype me?” Athena asked playfully, a little tease to her voice as she took her own sip of wine. “Or your sisters.”

Attina scoffed. “Yeah, like I’d ever ask any of them for actual dating advice.” Her shoulders dropped and she put an elbow on the counter, huffing out a breath as she put her chin in her hand. “I’m going to be an old maid!”

“You’re not going to be an old maid,” Athena told her, her voice a little more chiding this time.

“Yes, I am! I’m almost twenty-seven!”

“You still have the vast majority of your life to live,” Athena pointed out. “Plus, you will be starting your doctorate soon. Isn’t that more important to focus on anyway?”

“Equally.”

“Equally?” Athena raised her eyebrows and then sighed, reaching over to push some of Attina’s rich red hair behind her ear, touching her daughter’s cheek. “Has anyone ever told you that when you stop looking for someone is when you’ll find them?”

“Bullshit,” Attina said, taking a sip of her wine grumpily.

“Language,” her mother warned, pulling on a lock of her hair.

“You will find someone, Teeny,” she cooed after another moment. “You are smart, beautiful, and compassionate, and I have no doubt that one day you will have a loving husband and many, many babies. And I’ll be the proudest mother in all the seven seas.”

Despite herself, Attina smiled a little. “Thanks, Mum.”

“You’re welcome, my little starfish.” She leaned forwards to kiss the side of Attina’s head.

The timer went off on the oven and Attina opened her eyes.

From there, everything was a shit show. She woke up with Athena’s smell lingering in her nose and her temple tingling where her mother’s lips had pressed, like it had actually happened. Like she could close her eyes and go back to that place.

The dream wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. She dreamed of her mother all the time. Sometimes, they were good dreams, like that—which made Attina’s chest burn and she closed her eyes, trying to find that dream again. Sometimes, they were awful nightmares, which had Attina waking with tears in her eyes.

This time, she felt both like she wanted to cry and also—strangely content.

That was until Andrina said she’d had a dream about their mother. And then Alana did too. And Aquata, Arista, Adella…and then, Ariel had admitted what she done.

Attina didn’t know how to feel. Her heart felt like it had been torn from her body, for a few hours, which felt just like a few minutes, she had had her mother back. Really, truly. As if she had never left. Attina wanted to reach back into that dream and shake dream-Attina and tell her to hold on to her mother and never let go. She stayed mostly silent as she watched her sisters tear each other apart and she felt—small and scared.

She felt farther away from Andrina than she ever had. Farther from Ariel.

There was one person, though, that Attina knew she needed to talk to. And who probably needed her too. It was what motivated her to get out of bed, pull on sweatpants over her leggings and a sweater and coat over her pajama shirt.

Attina slipped into the Triton manor and held her breath. It felt like a tomb. Quiet. Still. She looked to the left, into the kitchen—where her and her mother had sat in the dream.

She scurried quickly to the stairs and climbed them quickly and quietly. For a moment, she paused on the second floor—wondering if she should say something to Adella, Arista, Aquata, or Alana. Her little sisters. But there was someone else who needed her.

Climbing up the next flight, Attina crossed to her father’s study’s door and paused outside of it. She took a deep breath and knocked quietly, opening it before her father could answer.

He was sitting on the worn, brown leather couch, his head hung down, hands clasped together. He looked up though, when Attina appeared in the doorway, feeling both small and young, and much, much older than her years.

“Hello, Teeny,” he greeted her softly, sniffling a bit.

Attina could tell he’d been crying. Her heart twisted and she flocked to him immediately, leaning down to kiss his leathery, scratchy cheek.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said before crawling onto the couch next to him and wrapping her arms around his bicep. She put her chin on his shoulder, looking down over it.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Picture of all of us,” he replied, turning it towards her so she could see, the glare of the early morning sunshine sliding off of it.

They were at the beach. Athena was holding Ariel on her hip, who couldn’t be more than four years old. Adella and Arista were both hugging Triton around the waist. Attina stood next to her mother, holding Alana on her hip, mirroring Athena. Andrina was giving Aquata a piggy back between their parents. All of them were smiling.

“I remember that day, we went to see Aunt Aphrodite and Uncle Simon, right after Adrielle had been born,” Attina mused quietly, her throat filling with tears. She missed her Aunt Aphrodite too. She had been killed with Athena, leaving her husband and four children behind. “She was so cute then. Too bad she’s such a brat now.”

That made her father chuckle a little, wetly. “How did you know I was going to be in here moping over old pictures?” Triton asked, during to look at his daughter.

She sat back a little and shrugged, playing with a piece of her hair guiltily. “Isn’t that what you always do on your day off?”

Triton raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t say anything.

Attina pulled her feet up and put her chin on her knees. “Okay, but you’re not allowed to be mad when I tell you, alright?”

Triton appraised his daughter. Still, he didn’t say anything, but his had stroked over his beard once.

“You’ll just make it worse.”

“This has to do with Ariel, doesn’t it?” he asked to that.

Attina winced a little and then nodded.

“Let me guess, you had a similar dream that I had?”

Attina nodded again.

“And so did the rest of the girls?”

Attina nodded. “Ariel went to the sea witch.”

Triton sucked in a sharp breath of air and rose from his seat at once, leaving the picture on the seat in his wake.

“You said you wouldn’t be mad,” Attina reminded him, though her voice was small.

“Does that girl ever listen to anything?” Triton snapped in Attina’s direction. “Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is?”

Attina huffed at him. Triton’s anger could be a terrible thing to witness, but Attina wasn’t really that nervous right now. She was annoyed, frustrated, and sad. Plus, she knew that anger wasn’t directed at her. It usually wasn’t. (Though, there was a part of her that squirmed—since she had gone to the sea witch too. She’d gone first.)

“Of course she does, but she doesn’t feel like she had a choice,” Attina explained, as calmly as she could.

“Don’t defend her. She deliberately put herself into danger!” Triton stood with his arms crossed, puffed up like an angry puffer fish.

“I’m not defending what she did, it was stupid and dangerous. I know that, Daddy. Obviously. I’m just—saying…I understand…why she did it. She didn’t feel like she could come home.”

Triton’s face twisted and he looked away for a moment. When he turned back, his face was set in a hard expression. “Well, she won’t have a choice now. I’ll drag her out of that boy’s house by the tail if I need to.”

Attina rolled her eyes, knowing her father’s bark was much worse than his bite. “She’s safe there at least,” Attina pointed out. “She could’ve run away to Bournemouth or something. To Uncle Simon’s. Or to Aunt JADE’s. Or to the ocean.”

“She’s being recalcitrant.”

“I wonder who she gets that from,” Attina replied curtly.

The answer to that question was Athena, and they both knew it.

Eventually, Triton’s shoulders dropped and he rubbed a hand over his face with a sigh. “What am I supposed to do with her?”

“Come sit down, Daddy, you didn’t sleep well.” Attina moved the picture over to the side table and pat the cushion next to her.

Triton hesitated again, but, after a moment of looking into Attina’s puppy eyes, he sighed and crossed over to the couch, sinking down into it. “What was the price she paid? Do I want to know?”

“It’s not—that bad,” Attina began slowly. “She, uhm, lost her voice.”

There was another long stretch of silence. Attina put her hand on her father’s back, rubbing at it gently, her own heart beating very hard in her chest.

“There is a way to fix it, isn’t there? Don’t those contracts usually have failsafes?”

“Yes,” was all her father said.

“O-okay, we’ll just—have to figure out what it is.”

“In the meantime, I want her home,” Triton said, his voice thick and wet again, which dampened the conviction with which he spoke.

“I know, Daddy, but it isn’t that easy. We have to let her do it on her own. She’s the only one who can fix it, you know that.”

Triton was quiet again, but after a few moments, he stood up from the couch and crossed to his desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a teal-coloured jewelry box, tied up with a white bow. He brought it over and handed it to Attina. She knew exactly what it was. A pearl necklace. Each of the girl’s had received one on their eighteenth birthday. It was tradition. One of the few they could still cling to here on land.

“Give this to her, when you see her?” he asked quietly, sinking back down onto the couch like an anchor.

“Why don’t you give it to her, when you see her?”

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

Attina sighed, knowing not to push, because as much as it pained her—that was probably true.

“You’re going to see her, right?”

“I might—give it a few days,” Attina replied honestly, her own eyes filling with tears then. “I’m also bloody pissed at her.”

It was Triton, then, who put his big, warm hand around Attina and pulled her into his chest. Attina rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. A few tears slipped from her eyes. “I miss her so much, Daddy,” Attina sobbed, her voice high and broken.

“I know, my darling, I miss her too.”

#self para #sweet dreams #featuring athena #featuring triton #im sad

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alexiela73 · 7 years

Note

Hey I'm new and don't know if you'll still do requests for the s/o with prosthetic limbs, if you still will could you do it Pharah, 76, Tracer and Torbjörn? Sorry if you don't.

I do xD I’m sorry. I hope you forgive me but I don’t think I feel comfortable doing Torb’s. I think he’s a character I can only do friendship/parent-like behavior but don’t worry! he’s happily married ;) i’m sure he’d be just as supportive as any of them.

Pharah

The two of you were together before the accident

Between the two of you, you were both considered a rather elite fighting team

Pharah was all about the high ground attacks and you were more up close and personal

One day a mission went wrong and a bomb trap went off in a building Pharah had seen you enter but a minute ago

Instantly she had dropped from the sky, panic filling her as she yelled into her mic your name

The building, or what was left of it, was crumbling

She’d found you beneath rubble, your limbs at odd angles. Lifting you, the two of you had your first retreat

You ended up going into intensive care in the hospital

Pharah didn’t leave your side once. She was so scared that she might lose you….

When the doctors told you that they couldn’t save most of your body, she was heart broken. Not because your body was most important to her: because she was afraid of how you might react when you woke up

It was a few days before you woke up at all

When you did, you were really groggy. Everything was a blur, but slowly the world came into focus

And the first thing your eyes locked on was Pharah

Instantly relief filled you. She was okay. When the bomb had gone off, your first thought had been was what if she walked in and another went off too?

“Your okay…” you breathed, instantly trying to reach for her…but you realized your hand wasn’t held out to her. It felt like it was….but it wasn’t….

You froze, and Pharah instantly moved to the bed, gently smoothing her hand through your hair.

“How….how much could they save?” you asked finally, swallowing.

Pharah’s fingers tucked a strand behind your ear. “None of your limbs made it,” she says softly. “They’re just waiting for the new prosthetic limbs to get in.”

For a moment you said nothing, as your mind raced around in a panic in your head. “I…oh….” you whispered, before you focused on one thought in particular.

Eyes meeting hers, you swallowed hard. “Pharah…Prosthetic limbs don’t bother you, do they?” you asked, nervous.

Pharah stared down at you, before her eyes welled with tears and she tried to blink them back. “Y/n, you idiot,” she whispers. “Of course they don’t. This doesn’t change how I feel about you. Its us, till the end.

Breathing in and out, you slowly nodded. If Pharah was unhurt, and wouldn’t leave you with this obvious change, then…

“Its us,” you agreed, as Pharah leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Till the end.”

Soldier 76

You two have been married for a long, happy 9 years

The two of you met before Soldier reunited with Ana

Now you usually stay Overwatch, helping Mercy take care of them all

Your not a fighter, more of a lover

Although Soldier would have agree with that, he had to admit you didn’t have a mean bone in your body and he loved you for it

You rarely go on missions with them, just because of how dangerous it is

After 9 years, Soldier found you unconscious on the floor in the kitchen

Instantly you were in Mercy’s medical room, with Soldier being forced to wait outside for what seemed like forever

Finally, Mercy allowed him in, but only after you’d woken up

You sat there in the bed, watching him with a rather gentle look on your face

Soldier swallowed hard. You looked so small in the medical bed…

“Hey,” he said quietly, coming and sitting on the edge of the bed and taking your hand in his. “How…how do you feel?”

For a moment you watched him, tracing your fingers across his hand. It had a faded scars and the fingers were rough with calluses. Your husband was such a hard worker, you though. He always tried his best…

“I feel good,” you said after a moment, giving him a soft smile.

Soldier realized that that smile…wasn’t good. It meant that something was wrong, something you had easily come to terms with.

“Baby…I..Apparently I have a disease,” you said slowly, reaching up to brush your hand across his cheek.

“Apparently I’ve had it for a long time, but the symptoms don’t show up for years sometimes. My…my body is dying. The tissues and nerves are dying. My limbs will be the first to go…I already can’t wiggle my toes or feel below my knees. And I’ll get faint or dizzy spells,” you say gently.

Soldier’s heart broke in his chest. His love for you was endless, and your pain was his. But he knew that you’d try to hide your feelings, as not to upset him

“Y/n…” he said softly.

“Mercy says there’s treatment, but…it’ll only prolong my life by another eight years at best. At worst, I could die as early as next year,” you continued, watching the stunned look on his face. It hurt you just as much. But you couldn’t cry, you had to stay-

Pulling you tight in his arms, Soldier stroked his fingers through your hair tenderly. “Don’t,” Soldier whispers. “Don’t pretend you don’t care. Its my job to be strong for you, not the other way around.”

You felt yourself freeze, your heart beating wildly. The gentle feeling of his hand in your hair soothed you a bit as you let out a shuddering breath.

“My health is just going to decline, Jack-” you whispered.

“I don’t care,” he said raggedly. “I love you. With everything I have. Eight years, one year, five minutes….every second is worth being with you, even if we know the outcome. I love you, y/n, and by your side is where i will remain. So don’t give me some kind of bullshit about how you don’t want me to see,” he whispers into your ear, cradling you to him.

That was what broke you though. You didn’t want him to see. But even more selfish was the fact that you didn’t want to die alone. You didn’t want to never see him again. You didn’t want to leave him.

The tears spilled over and you clutched him, pressing your face into his chest. It was amazing how so much could change in five minutes….One moment you thought you had a lifetime and the next it was so much shorter…

“We’re in this together,” Jack whispered, rocking you gently. He knew he could never and would never want to leave you. He’d be there till your last breath and longer.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, shaking against him as you let your emotions take you.

Jack just held you the rest of the night, humming the song the two of you had danced to at your wedding.

Mercy stood outside, tears spilling down her own cheeks. She wished she could have saved you.

Tracer

The two of you fell in love after

Every year Tracer likes to take a small vacation from Overwatch and go to England to compete in the track and field there. There’s a contest every year for the fastest runner

She competes, not using her device in any way

After all, Tracer hates cheating

She first saw you when you were getting ready to compete. You were stretching over at the far side, wearing shorts and t-shirt. Her first thought was you were incredibly attractive

Lena’s second thought was that she wanted to know your name. Unable to help herself, she’d begun toward you and then noticed you were talking to some people there

You looked mildly irritated, hands on your hips, as four people stood there. As Tracer got closer, she could hear them more clearly, though honestly she was halfway through the crowd. Everyone could hear them

“That’s cheating, mate. Omnic’s aren’t allowed to participate,” one sneered, to her shock. What on earth?

“Ya, why don’t ya go back to the scrap yard?” another laughed.

That’s when you noticed the glimmer of metal and realized you had one prosthetic leg and two prosthetic arms. But why did that matter, she thought?

“What’s going on here?” Tracer said cheerfully, bouncing up beside you. Her eyes were like daggers on the men.

“Nothing,” you muttered, wondering if the pretty woman was going to make fun of you too. You used to run all the time till an accident took it away. But these prosthetic limbs allowed for you to continue your dream…and they enhanced you as much as normal limbs.

“This bag o’bolts wants to compete!” snickered one.

“So? Its open to the public. What does it matter?” Tracer demanded, to both their and your surprise.

One sputtered a bit. “Its cheating! Look at that!” they said and pointed at his leg.

Tracer looked down at the leg and then up at the men with a challenge. “I see. Having a prosthetic isn’t cheating, nor is it a choice. So bug off,” she said seriously, and glared when they looked like they were going to protest. “Before you find you need a prosthetic too.”

The men glanced at each other. The lady was small and slim but there was something about her that was slightly scary. After a moment they headed off, getting ready for the race.

Turning, you scowled adorably, cheeks pink. “You didn’t have to do that,” you muttered.

Raising an eyebrow, Lena let out the prettiest laugh you’d ever heard. “No, but I wanted to. I’m Lena, by the way,” she said, winking at you. “And since I saved you, you can repay me by taking me out to lunch later?”

“I thought heroes saved others to be nice?” you said, flustered. Why was this woman flirting with you? Did she not see the limbs?

Tracer sticks out her tongue at you playfully. “I guess I’m not your typical hero, love.”

“You…do see the prosthetics, right?” you asked hesitantly, wondering if she was blind.

Tracer blinked in surprise. “Of course I do. They’re very nice. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow at Ariel’s Diner at 1pm,” she said with a wink, leaning up and sneaking a kiss on the cheek.

Face burning hot, you rubbed your cheek in awe as she walked off. She liked you? Even with these hunks of metal?

The two of you ended up competing. Lena won, to your happiness, and you came in third. And the next day, you surprised yourself by going to the diner. It was that smile that captivated you…

And there it was, beaming at you from a table

The two of you began going steady and never once did she make you feel inferior or less then your true worth

#Pharah #Pharah Amari #Pharah headcanon #Pharah x Reader #Pharah Overwatch #Soldier 76 #Soldier x Reader #Soldier 76 x Reader #Soldier 76 headcanon #Jack morrison #Tracer #Tracer Overwatch #Tracer x Reader #Tracer Headcanon #lena oxton #overwatch imagines #overwatch writing #reader x overwatch

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katdvs · 7 years

Photo

Author Note: So I’m a little stuck on something with Thunder Chasing The Wind, so I went through my requests in my ask box for anything that popped out to me, and this is what I came up with. Enjoy!

Date Night

“Della, Owen, just do what I ask.” Riley cried out, feeling her exhausted body as she sat on the stairs, listening for the running water in the bathroom, the sound of their electric toothbrushes going off sighing.

She went to run her hand through her hair finding it caught in her hair-tie, trying to undo it, tugging on her tangled hair, tears burning in her eyes.

She rested her face in her hands. It had been a long day, a long week, a long month. Everything was building up, when was the last time she had five minutes to herself?

“Stop it Della” Owen cried.

“You started it” Della whined.

“Don’t make me come in there, wash your faces, and go to bed.” Riley felt her vocal cords strain as the pounding headache she’d had for what felt like days throbbed.

The kids were silent after their mother’s warning, a moment later the bathroom door closed and each scurried to their own rooms.

Riley continued sitting on the stairs, her hands shaking, tears in her eyes, she knew she should go and tuck them in, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up at the moment. Her phone vibrated in the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie. She slipped it out, seeing the text from her husband, Home soon, sorry I missed dinner.

When was the last time Lucas wasn’t home late? When was the last time she hadn’t left him a plate of dinner to heat up when he walked in? Why did he keep having house calls so late at night?

She felt the knot in her stomach as she tried to push away that thought, the same one that crept into her mind several times a day. Sometimes when she’d catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror after a day of running errands, shuffling the kids around, taking care of the PTA and all the other random things that seemed to land on her plate.

She pulled herself up on the stairs, wiping her eyes. She checked herself in the mirror, pulling her hair back with the tie that was barely stretchy any longer. She took a calming breath before she went into Owen’s room. He was on the bed, playing with two monster trucks crashing into each other.

“Do I have to go to bed?” Owen looked up at his mother, his chocolate eyes mirroring her own. “Daddy isn’t home yet.”

Riley sighed, “Yes, it’s your bedtime.” She moved to her knees as Owen joined her to say a little prayer. Once he was tucked in she kissed his forehead, turned out all the lights except the glowing bunny on his dresser before moving across the hall to her daughter.

Della was already under the covers, reading a chapter book when Riley came in. She looked up, turning the corner of the page down before putting the book on the nightstand.

“How’s Uncle Josh’s new book?” Riley sat on the bed.

Della shrugged, “It’s okay,” she looked down at her hands, “Why isn’t Daddy home?”

“House call, he’ll be home soon and he’ll want you to be asleep.” Riley took her daughters hand, “Let’s say your prayer and then get you to bed.”

Della nodded as they said her bedtime prayer before Riley turned out the lights, pausing at the door as she turned to her, “Go to sleep sweetheart, don’t stay up reading.”

“Yes Mommy.” Della snuggled deeper under the covers before the door was closed.

Riley breathed a sigh of relief as she realized both kids were in bed. She grabbed the hamper from the bathroom and made her way down the stairs, noticing that the plate she left for Lucas was still sitting on the table.

He still wasn’t home.

She opened the basement door, clicking the light on before carrying the dirty clothes downstairs.

Lucas parked the truck, he knew it was late, he knew he couldn’t keep doing these late shifts, but it was extra money, and thankfully tonight was his final shift. He sat in the driver’s seat for a few moments before he dug into his bag and found what he was looking for.

When he finally found it, he checked to make sure he had everything else he’d picked up on his way home. He knew Riley was stressing out, that she’d been doing everything at the house lately, everything with the kids, he could only hope that she understood what he’d been doing.

He went up the front steps of the porch, entered the house quietly thankful that the dogs didn’t bark waking the kids. He moved as softly as he could towards the kitchen, his plate of dinner to heat up still waiting under its plastic wrap.

He glanced towards the office, and saw that the lights were off, he didn’t hear the TV or see it’s blue light glowing from the family room. He went to the basement door, over the sound of the washing machine he could hear her crying, his heart breaking that he’d done this to her.

His body was cold with guilt as he ignored the dinner plate and went up to their bedroom. He went to their bathroom and began to turn the bath on, filling the tub with hot water and her favorite bubble bath. He pulled out the LED candles, setting them up to create a calming glow.

He moved into the bedroom, setting up more of the candles, putting the package he’d put together that afternoon on the bed before placing the flowers he’d gotten on the way home in a vase. He opened a bottle of her favorite wine, pouring a glass for her.

He looked around, trying to see if he missed anything just as the door opened, he turned to see his wife. “Riley?”

She looked at her husband, trying to understand what was going on. She didn’t care, whatever he wanted could wait, she just wanted to take a quick shower before she had to switch the laundry, before Lucas fell asleep.

It was worse than he’d realized as she didn’t speak. “Honey, I know you’re tired, I know you’re exhausted.”

“Do you?” She snapped, her eyes filled with a fire Lucas had only seen a couple of times before, and never directed at him. “You know what Lucas, if you’re cheating on me, just pack a bag and leave now.”

His mouth dropped, was that what she was thinking? “Riley, no, I would never, I could never cheat on you.”

She was surprised to see the hurt in his eyes as he looked at her. “Then why haven’t you been coming home at a decent hour? Why are you always out on house calls, you have never in the past decade that we’ve been married? Why haven’t you made love to me?”

He ran his hand over his golden hair before going to the bed and picking up the package, “I’ve been putting in extra hours to make sure we could afford this. That means being on call for the evening shifts, and all the damn cows and horses in this county seem to want to have emergencies at night.”

Riley looked at the box in her hand, “So you’re not sleeping with that skinny little blonde that is always hitting on you at church, yeah I’ve seen it.”

“God no Riley” He chuckled knowing the idea was ridiculous, “I know you’re tired, I know you’re overworked, and part of that is my fault because I haven’t been the best husband, co-parent at all lately. I was trying to keep a promise, and maybe I just fucked up, maybe I could’ve put this off a few more years.”

Riley looked down at the box, “What is this Lucas? What promise?”

He reached out to push her messy hair from her eyes, “Open it.”

She rolled her eyes before she pulled off the ribbon and opened the box. Pale purple tissue paper inside propped up the printed-out plane reservations that laid over their updated passports. She studied the reservation sheet, “What is this for?”

“Our Wedding Anniversary,” he softly smiled, “Your parents are coming down on Friday, they’ll stay with the kids. I tried to get Auggie or Zay to come but they couldn’t get the time off. You and I fly out Saturday, and then we’ll have ten days in France.”

Riley blinked, feeling tears in her eyes that were different than the ones she cried earlier, “You fool, I’ve been here thinking you didn’t love me anymore and here you are trying to give us a second honeymoon.”

He reached out to wipe her tears away, “You do so much for everyone but yourself Riley. I want you to take this glass of wine, go into the bathroom and have a bubble bath, have a date with yourself. I’m going to finish the laundry, and anything else that needs to be done tonight. If you want to crawl into the bed before me and take up all the space, go for it. You deserve it.”

Riley put the box down before kissing him, “How could I deserve you after I accused you of having an affair?”

“I wouldn’t be where I am without you, I don’t think I deserve you.” He kissed her forehead, “Go before the bath gets cold, please just enjoy yourself, relax, let the day melt away.”

“Okay, okay.” She reluctantly pulled away, “My list of stuff for tonight is down on the kitchen table, it’s not a lot left.”

“Just go relax, I’ve got it taken care of.” He felt relief wash over him as he watched her go into the bathroom.

Lucas heated up his dinner in the microwave while he went to switch out the laundry. He ate quickly before he went around the house picking up the kid’s toys, finding papers that needed to be dealt with, cleaning up the kitchen, he went back to get the dried laundry, folding it, putting them in the different piles to be brought up in the morning.

He looked at the list again, realizing he still had to get lunches made for the kids, set up the coffee maker for the morning and what seemed like a dozen random things he hadn’t realized until now had taken for granted.

Riley sank into the hot bubble bath, enjoying the scent before she took a sip of wine. It took her a few minutes before the guilt started to bubble inside of her, how could she think he was having an affair?

She took another sip of wine. Closing her eyes, feeling the stress start to fade away along with the guilt.

Lucas was giving her what she had wanted.

Time to herself.

She lifted her leg just the way Ariel did in The Little Mermaid when she first became human. Realizing she couldn’t recall the last time she shaved her legs she grabbed her razor and took her time. She continued, shocked at how relaxing she found this before she drained the tub and got in the shower, washing her hair, conditioning it, taking her time under the hot spray before she got out, wrapping the fluffy towel around her body before she slowly toweled dry.

She realized Lucas was still downstairs, as she grabbed the wine glass taking a final sip before she went and pulled out her favorite short, silk nightie and climbed into the bed.

Lucas wasn’t sure how he got up the stairs, he wasn’t sure how Riley hadn’t snapped before today at him. He realized all he’d done in the time he was trying to prepare the perfect wedding anniversary for her, all he’d done was add more pressure, more stress to her.

Outside the bedroom, he slipped off his boots before he looked in on Owen and Della. He went into the room, seeing her in bed as he quickly changed and got ready to crawl in next to her.

When he pulled back the bedding he saw what she was wearing he smiled as he laid next to her giving her a soft kiss, which was quickly deepened as she returned it. He pulled away seeing her eyes open, “Were you playing opossum?”

She smirked, “Maybe, thank you I needed that tonight.”

“I’m sorry, I made this all worse trying to get this surprise for you.”

She took his hand, kissing his palm, “I’m sorry for thinking the worst.”

“I get it, I’ve been a bit distant, if I hadn’t been I would’ve never been able to keep this a surprise.” He sighed, “I love you Riley, I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to do it all, and I know that you have been.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, “I could’ve told you, but I didn’t.”

“No more secrets?”

“No more secrets.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, “I love you Ri, seriously, I’m sorry for making you feel stressed, awful, unwanted.”

She bit her lip, “You still want me?”

“Every moment of every day Ri, you might not think you’re beautiful when you’ve got oatmeal on your shirt, your hair messy, you’ve only had a few hours’ sleep.” He caressed her cheek, “Honey, I will want you until the day after I die.”

She let her finger trace the palm of his hand, “Well you said it was my date night, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, unless you’re too tired,” her hand moved to his hip, “Maybe we could start making out, see what happens next.”

“Whatever you want.” He kissed her, feeling her relax into his body as they slowly reconnected, in the late hours of the night.

When Riley woke up with the morning light crossing over her, she felt Lucas pull her back to him, murmuring as he kissed her neck. “Lucas, the kids will come in soon if I don’t have breakfast made.”

He sighed, “I set out bowls and cereal, Della can get the milk.”

“You’re so smart, no wonder I married you.” She nuzzled his neck.

“I thought you could sleep in for a little while this morning.”

“Thank you, you really are the best.”

He scoffed, “I’m glad you think so, I promise you more date nights, real date nights, especially in France.”

“Oh yeah, you’ve got the whole thing planned huh?”

“Yeah, I do.” He kissed the top of her forehead, “I gotta get up and shower, you stay in bed for a little bit.”

“Fine, I will.” She sighed as she watched him go into the bathroom. She looked around the room, yesterday had been a hard day, but she knew today would be better, and so would the others. She just had to believe it, trust it, and know remember that her husband loved her beyond what she had ever thought was possible.

She got up, going to the dresser, pulling out her clothes for the day, feeling refreshed.

#Date Night #Rucas #Riley Matthews #Lucas Friar #Rucas Fanfic #Reader Request #Girl Meets World #GMW Fanfic

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cutieodonoghue · 7 years

Text

let’s just be us (part 2)

summary: based on this post (rockstar!killian and movie star!emma secretly dating, but those pesky fans figure it out…)

word count: ~4000

also found here: ao3, ff.net

the first part: here

an: i lost count of how many people requested that i write more, so i wrote more. thanks to meagan for beta reading and giggling and crying and everything in between! <3 (also this is entirely fluff and i don’t know who i am anymore weeeeeee)

“We’re home!” Emma says happily.

She steps into the apartment with her bag around her shoulder and Cocoa and Smee right on her heels. They charge into the place with excitement, eager to sniff everything and make sure it’s all still here.

Killian laughs warmly as he sets his stuff down. “I’ll go grab the rest.”

“Kay,” Emma hums.

She’s already charging for the thermostat and changing the temperature to help warm things up. It’s December in New York and they haven’t been here in what feels like an eternity.

She begins to flip on lights and smiles when she enters the bedroom, discovering things just as they’d left them. Tidy and clean.

“Not for long,” she mumbles under her breath.

Emma sets her bag down on the bed and steps out of her shoes after peeling out of her coat. She opens the bathroom door and sets her bathroom bag down on the countertop.

As she stands there in the bathroom, she meets her eyes in the mirror. It’s been a weird day. Long. Crazy.

She can hardly believe she posted a public photograph insinuating her relationship with Killian Jones, but she did.

Regina’s going to keep things from escalating too far, but they’re going to leave it ambiguous for now. At least, until Emma can figure out a decent way to announce she’s in love with her very best friend.

Emma goes out into the bedroom and finds Cocoa already eager to curl up in Emma’s pillows. She smiles at the puppy and scrubs her fingers behind her ears before leaving a kiss to the top of her head.

“Are you happy to be home, Cocoa Bean?” Emma leans away and hums to herself. “I know I am.”

When Emma pulls her phone out of her pocket, she has far too many notifications. She nibbles on her lip, wondering what the fans have to say about the picture she’d posted.

Curiosity gets the best of her as she’s walking out into the living area, ready to prepare some hot chocolate and to turn on the fake fireplace because she can.

@ekforever: YOU’RE BEING SO OBVIOUS NOW OMG (clap)

Emma stifles a laugh, tapping on the username. She discovers the page has blown up with magnified parts of the photograph. It’s all she can do but crack up as she reads the speculation accompanying each post.

@ekforever: What do we know? We know Emma has been spotted at Killian’s concerts every night for a week and a half. (Check the previous post for the pics with fans!) Now that Killian’s tour is done, he should be heading home again in time to celebrate the holidays with family. We know Emma’s going to NYC- she just posted about it (I’m still DYING HELP) - and guess who lives in NYC? Killian! Aside from the obvious in the picture (*ahem* HIS DOG IN THE BACKGROUND AND HIS GUITAR AND HER HAIR????) I think the evidence has been piling up in our favor.

Emma bites on her lip as she laughs and her cheeks burn hot, because damn she’s the absolute worst at keeping this a secret from people.

Killian enters the apartment then with the rest of their things and smiles at her brightly. “Alright. It’s all up now, I think. I’m rather hungry. Would you like to order in?”

“Yeah,” Emma smiles back at him.

She stuffs her phone away and takes a breath, scanning her surroundings for the first time. There’s frost on the windows and the fridge is empty. It hardly feels like home, but at the same time, she feels more at home than ever.

Killian brings his bag toward her, heading to the bedroom, and when he reaches her, he stops, settling his hand on her side so he can kiss her. They part with smiles on their lips, Emma searching his eyes as a laugh tumbles past her lips.

“What was that for?”

Killian’s eyebrows dance. “Welcome home.”

“Welcome home,” She grins. She watches as he goes into their bedroom for a moment and then she goes to continue fixing her hot chocolate. “Do you want Chinese?”

“Ah… yeah, sure. Should we phone David and Mary Margaret to let them know we’re here in relatively one piece?”

Emma feels her phone vibrating wildly in her pocket and she wiggles it out, laughing once at the sight of Mary Margaret’s name. She swipes as she says, “I think I’ve got that covered. Hey, Mary Margaret.”

“Emma, oh my gosh, I saw the picture on Instagram,” Mary Margaret says immediately, skipping all pretenses. “Are you okay? How are you doing?”

Emma laughs once. She stirs the powder and water in her favorite mug and licks her lips when the hot chocolate begins to steam. She sets the spoon in the sink after spraying what’s left of the whipped cream into the mug.

“I’m fine, Mary Margaret,” Emma insists. She carries the hot chocolate with her into the bedroom and sits down on the edge of the bed, watching as Killian makes quick work of moving himself back in.

“You should see the gossip websites,” Mary Margaret sighs. “I even saw E News was running a story. You’re friends with them! I thought they were better than this!”

Emma has a sip of her beverage and Killian gives her a look, silently requesting a sip. She rolls her eyes and holds it out for him. He grabs it in an instant and has a sip, leaving whipped cream on his upper lip that makes her laugh.

“I’m friends with Ariel, Mary Margaret. Not the whole company.” Emma takes her hot chocolate back and sets it down on her nightstand as she gets comfortable on Killian’s side of the bed.

“Still.” Mary Margaret says disapprovingly. “I can’t believe they’d-”

“It’s okay,” Emma tells her close friend. “I’m fine with the gossip. I’m getting kind of tired of having to keep things a secret.”

Killian steps into the closet to grab the laundry hamper. He emerges and stuffs his dirty clothes into it before doing the same with her clothes.

Mary Margaret sighs into the phone. “Well, as long as you’re okay, then I guess it’s fine.”

“It really is.”

Emma watches as Killian grabs his phone from the bed and at the same time, he grins at Cocoa. The puppy sprawls out on her side, exposing her belly for Killian’s warm hand.

“How was the flight?” Mary Margaret asks.

“It was good,” Emma replies. “Not too long. We got stopped two times at the airport when people recognized me, but it was fine.”

“Well, this is good to hear,” Mary Margaret’s clearly smiling. “Do you want to get together tomorrow, maybe? We need to catch up.”

Emma hums. “Yeah, we really do. Do you want to do lunch?”

“Sure!” Mary Margaret says, then starts prattling off ideas she has, but Emma’s only focus is on the way Killian hauls their laundry out of the room.

Emma slings her legs around the edge of the bed and starts walking out of the room.

“I’ll text you.” Emma says to Mary Margaret after confirming the details of their meal tomorrow. She bites down on her lip and wanders into the living area.

Killian’s ordering food now while he loads the washing machine and she finds that this is something she wholeheartedly adores.

He turns to her after he finishes ordering and loading, her multitasking dream man, and he shows her his teeth with a smile.

“Alright, we’ve got laundry in and food on the way,” Killian announces. “All that’s left is… an engagement ring for my beautiful fiancée.”

Emma rolls her eyes. She settles her hands on his chest. “I don’t need an engagement ring-”

“Don’t give me that,” Killian chastises her. “I know you. And I know myself. I’ve always wanted to have a proper engagement, so I hope you’ll be able to live with it.”

She can’t contain her smile. “I think I’ll be able to.”

“Well, that’s good, because I’ve got one.”

Emma’s jaw falls open and she blinks dumbly. “What?”

Killian just grins and slips away from her. He jogs into the bedroom and then emerges, holding a black leather ring box in his hand.

“I’ve been waiting on it for a while. I didn’t think the time would come so soon.” Killian pulls his lower lip between his teeth, tugging at it. He pauses before her and smiles wryly as he drops to his knee. “Emma Swan, you are the love of my life and my very best friend. Will you marry me?”

The sight of him on the floor holding a ring in his hand is about enough to make her emotional- tears welling up in her eyes as if she hadn’t ever expected this even though she absolutely had.

Emma’s smile is weak at first, quickly spreading as she nods. “Yes. Of course I will, you goof.”

Killian beams at her and they work together to get the ring on her finger. He bounces up onto his feet and his arms go around her as hers do the same. She digs her fingers into his hair and kisses him soundly, a laugh buzzing on her lips.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, laughing between kisses.

Emma shakes her head and looks at Killian. “Nothing.” She grins wide. “We’re engaged.”

“That we are.”

One of Emma’s token tricks to being an A-List celebrity is, while maintaining a calm and cool demeanor, not being filmed at seven thirty in the morning while she’s still waking up.

Killian, being the way he is, likes to stretch the boundaries of her tricks.

It’s not really his goal to film her, which makes it less of a situation, but still, she’s caught in the crosshairs of his muddled brain and enthusiasm for the day.

It’s a Facebook livestream that he’s filming, showing off his breakfast as he’s cooking.

“I’m making breakfast,” he says. “Eggs and bacon and perhaps some toast if I’m feeling adventurous. We’ll see.”

His phone camera is boosted up against the sugar container just far enough away so it exposes Killian and the stove, but also far back enough that it shows the kitchen behind him, including the coffee machine.

This is something Emma doesn’t realize until she’s in the frame of the video, staring at the phone with a confused tilt of her head.

“And I thought I’d share a quick thought about-” He turns to her then, a smile filling his lips. “Morning.”

Emma grumbles a response and grabs the coffee on the counter beside him.

“That’s mine, love.”

“Don’t care,” Emma replies, suffering through a hearty sip of the straight black coffee.

Killian snickers at the camera. “She’s not quite a morning person, I don’t think. Hanging about my apartment like some sort of bum.”

Killian clicks his tongue against his cheek, playing coy and loving every minute of it.

Emma can practically see the comments now: ARE YOU GUYS TOGETHER OR NOT?

She hides a smile behind the rim of Killian’s coffee mug and sits down at the table with her newspaper and Cocoa, who curls up on top of her feet like she does every morning.

“Anyway, I thought I’d share a quick thought about the holiday season, since it’s upon us and this is, in fact, Vlogmas, or Livestream-mas? Who knows what we decided it was called.” Killian flashes the camera a grin.

Emma listens as the pan sizzles. It makes her stomach gurgle hungrily and she hopes he’s making enough for her too.

She sips on the coffee and checks her phone for messages, finding a bunch of texts from Mary Margaret and a few from Regina, checking to make sure she got some sides for an audition.

“When I was a teenager, my older brother, Liam, used to tell me that for Christmas, we should always give to those less fortunate even if we feel like we’ve got nothing, because one day we might be in that position. You just never know.” Killian pauses. “So that’s my thought of the day. Do with it what you will. I’m trying to decide where to donate to this year, so if you’ve any suggestions, I’d love to hear them.”

Killian flips the switch for the flame on the stove to turn off. He turns toward Emma, flashing the camera a quick glimpse of her.

“Everybody say ‘hi to Emma!’ Emma, say ‘hi to everyone!’.”

Emma wants to groan, but she just manages a soft smile as she sips some coffee. “Hi to everyone.”

Killian beams at the camera and waves. “Alright, bye! I’ll talk with you lot tomorrow.”

She watches as he turns the livestream off. He drags his head over his face and then scratches behind his ear.

“I apologize, darling,” he says, going straight to the table. He lowers a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve been doing this… livestream thing as a sort of thank you to the fans in the days leading up till Christmas.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t think you’d get up this early.”

Emma smiles at him. “It’s alright. I just missed you so I came looking.”

He hums and his eyebrows dance. “I see.”

They stare at one another for a few moments. Obviously, he’s hesitant still about the livestream including her.

Emma shrugs her shoulders. “It’s okay. We’re together. We’re just being us.”

Killian smiles easily. “Aye. That’s right.”

“Did you make enough food for me too?”

Her fiancé starts to laugh happily. “I did, as a matter of fact. Want toast?”

“I’m feeling adventurous. Yeah. Why not?”

Emma is knee-deep in wedding plans when the first real public and intentional interaction with she and Killian comes up.

It’s the red carpet event for a movie she played a small part in, and she knows there’ll be cameras and reporters wondering the juicy scoop on her relationship status, especially with all of the small things seeming to come to light on more credible websites and magazines.

Every week, it seems she sees something about some silly thing sources have told them about Emma and Killian’s relationship. There are a lot of pictures exposing Emma’s engagement ring- her own fault for going to see a Broadway show with friends and announcing it online for the whole world to know.

Regina’s remained quiet about the relationship to publications, meaning it’s a mystery to the world if Emma is indeed engaged to Killian, or if she’s just wearing a pretty ring and hanging around him a lot.

“Hey, Killian?” Emma asks as she enters Killian’s music room.

He’s sitting at his computer, his acoustic guitar in his lap and his microphone pointed toward his lips. He grins, turning to face her. “Yes, my love?”

Emma sucks in a deep breath. Nerves tickle her belly ridiculously. “Do you want to go to the red carpet with me tonight?”

Killian lifts his eyebrow. “With you? As your date?”

Emma rolls her eyes and shrugs her shoulders. “Yeah. I mean, if you think you can handle that.”

She watches as he sets his guitar down. He stands and crosses the room. His hands fall to her hips easy and he admires her with pure love in his gaze.

“Oh, darling, I assure you. I can handle it.”

She laughs- she can’t help it- and bites down on her lip. “Okay, then, let’s get dressed up and ready to face the music.”

Killian lays a kiss on her that about sweeps her off her feet. After, his nose presses against hers and Emma licks her lips, wishing he could just keep kissing her.

“Are we going to announce our engagement to the world tonight or are we playing it coy?” he asks.

Emma shrugs. She meets his eyes. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“Let’s just be us.”

“Emma, you look beautiful tonight.” Ariel says, admiring the dress she has on.

Emma can’t help the blush on her cheeks even though she’s been told she looks beautiful dozens of times already.

“Isn’t she bloody gorgeous?” Killian says from her side, poking his head into her interview.

Emma laughs, bumping her head against his where it hovers above her shoulder. “Thanks.”

Killian steps around her properly so he can engage Ariel. He gives her a quick hug and a kiss to her cheek. “Hi Ariel, how are you, love?”

“I’m good,” Ariel laughs. She nods at Emma. “It’s good to see you both here tonight. Emma, are you excited to be here? How are you feeling?”

Emma smiles politely at Ariel. “I’m excited, yeah. I haven’t seen the movie yet but I’ve heard it’s incredible. I can’t wait to see what they did with me.”

Ariel chuckles. She gestures to Emma’s hands, clasped together in front of her middle. “Now, you don’t have to answer this, but the Internet has been abuzz for months about that shiny rock on your finger…”

Killian breaks out in the cheekiest grin she’s ever seen in her life and she laughs, holding her hand up so the camera can see it.

“I don’t know. Kind of looks like an engagement ring, doesn’t it?” She’s staring at Killian and Killian’s smiling at her, and she swears this has never felt simpler.

“It kind of does,” Killian says warmly. He bumps her hip gently and Emma giggles, scrunching up her nose as she rights herself and listens to Ariel’s next question.

By the end of the interview, Killian has Ariel laughing and Emma’s fairly certain this is going to be the thing that breaks the entire Internet, because he’s standing with her and he’s being totally charming- and then he decides to take her hand.

Emma smiles at Ariel in thanks and waves to the camera. “It was nice seeing you again, Ariel.”

“You too! Enjoy the movie!”

“Thanks,” both Emma and Killian say in unison.

Emma grins at her fiancé as they walk away from the interview hand-in-hand.

No, this has never felt simpler.

The interview with Ariel opens up doors and windows for Emma, who feels more confident in sharing bits and pieces of her life with her fans, and by extension Killian and his fans.

Many of their fans are the same, it’s true, but there are some outsiders who crossover when Emma starts making posts about their trip to Atlanta for a guest spot she’s doing on a Netflix show.

Killian decides to post their first video together to Instagram when he’s bored sitting at the airport waiting for their plane to be ready for boarding. It’s barely six and she’s still half-asleep, holding a mug of Starbucks while she stares off into the distance.

She’s sitting very close to Killian, craving his warmth and cushion-like shoulder that she rests her head upon.

“We are on our way to Atlanta,” Killian says. He points his phone at the window to show the plane. “For Emma’s new gig. I think we’re supposed to be there a month, right, Swan?”

He lands the camera on her and she buries her face in his shoulder, mumbling, “No, don’t film me, I’m cranky.”

Emma wraps her free hand around his arm and snuggles close to him.

Killian leaves a kiss to the top of her head. “Oh, poor little cygnet.” He leans his head against hers. “It’s very early. We’re both quite tired. Leave a comment suggesting good spots to eat when we land, mates.”

When he shuts his phone off, he kisses the top of her head again. “You look beautiful, Swan.”

“Shut up.” Emma hides her smile against his shoulder and meets his eyes. “Should we add it to our vows that we won’t film each other when it’s too early?”

Killian laughs heartily. “Well, I’ve no promises there, love.”

Emma hums. She’s overcome with love for him, so she lets it go and says, “Love you.”

“I love you more.”

The Internet all but knows the truth now, but there’s some lingering doubt until the selfie Emma takes of them and their puppies laying in bed one beautiful summer morning.

They’re damn cute, the four of them all snuggled together under the blankets of their bed. Killian has a tired eye cracked open while his hair is a complete mess, and Emma looks equally as sleepy, but she wants to post this picture because she’s happy.

Sometimes, Emma likes to check in on @ekforever just so she can smile and laugh at the compilations of facts. These days, they’ve started just posting crying emojis regarding each status update or photograph that comes from their professional accounts.

The first thing they have on their page is a photo taken on the carpet of an independent film Killian got to score. He’s holding her tight, his smile huge while she laughs and presses her left hand against his chest, clearly showing off her engagement ring to the world.

@ekforever: (loudly crying face) THEY ARE SO BEAUTIFUL LOOK HOW FAR WE’VE COME

The comments below are all essentially a collection of hearts, heart eyes, and a smattering of words describing their love for the photo and for them as people.

Emma discards her phone, turning to look at Killian in their bed while she snuggles Cocoa close to her chest. Smee has decidedly hopped out of bed in search of a toy since waking up.

“Hey,” she whispers, a smile spreading on her face.

Killian hums. “Hey.”

“Happy wedding day eve.”

He laughs, crinkles finding the edges of his eyes. “Happy wedding day eve to you, Swan.”

Emma scoots toward him. Thankfully, Cocoa decides to get up at that instant, leaving the bed to the humans. She wraps her arms around him and presses her knee between his. Her nose brushes against his nose and she admires the blue of his eyes for a few moments in beautiful silence.

“Are you excited?” she whispers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited in my life, quite honestly.”

Emma hums. She brushes her thumb over the scar in his cheek and closes her eyes. “We’re going to be married tomorrow.”

Killian sighs through his nose. “We’re going to be married tomorrow.”

For a few long moments, they soak in that fact.

All of the planning has amounted to this: a wedding ceremony, with only their closest friends and family to witness. Liam, Killian’s older brother, is officiating, and after the exchange of vows, Emma has planned for them to share a meal and dancing on the roof of the apartment building.

It should be nice and peaceful, assuming nothing derails the affairs.

“As soon as we announce it, we’re only going to get questions about when we’re having a baby.” Emma says, deadpan serious.

Killian bursts out laughing and his hand squeezes her side. “Bloody hell. That’s true, isn’t it?”

Emma giggles along with him.

Killian kisses her forehead and then the tip of her nose while he admires her. “Well, Emma Swan, I would be honored to have children with you, should the time ever come.”

Emma hums. “And I’d be honored to have children with you too.”

She rests with her forehead against his for a few moments until she hears Smee’s tell-tale barking.

“Maybe we don’t need children with Smee and Cocoa,” Killian grumbles teasingly.

Emma giggles as she watches him get out of bed.

He grabs a shirt and pulls it on. “Alright! I’m on my way. Just be patient.” Killian turns back to Emma and leans over the bed to award her a proper kiss good morning. “I am in over my head for you.”

Emma sighs and licks her lips as he walks away just as quickly as he’d kissed her.

She has hundreds of photos from the wedding, thanks to Ruby, Mary Margaret’s best friend who’s a photographer, and she chooses one of she and Killian dancing during the reception as the first post she’ll make as Killian Jones’ wife.

It’s an intimate shot, Emma’s cheek resting against Killian’s collarbone. She’s smiling and everything is beautifully lit. The sun is just setting, so the glow of the light illuminates the joy on she and Killian’s faces.

She takes a few minutes to think of a good description to add to it and ends up giggling into her hand while Killian’s showering in their hotel room in Maui.

@emmaswanofficial: #ekforever

#cs ff #cs fluff #cs au #my writing #lets just be us

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