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greenygreenland · 3 years

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Dream A Little Dream of Me Pt. 2: Norman x Reader

-part 2 requested by anon

-kinda spicy??? because yeah but u can always skip that if u don’t like that stuff

-CHARACTERS AGED UP (so don’t call fbi on me lmaoooo)

MANGA SPOILERS/BRIEF MATURE CONTENT (at end)

WARNINGS: spicy/18+ (near the end, so you can SKIP if you’d like), arguing, death mentions, MANGA SPOILERS, etc.

Summary: It’s time to talk to Norman with Emma and Ray. Only issue is, he's not there yet, and his 'squad' is occupying his office.

PART 1

Time waited for no one. Its hands constantly ticked back and forth, once, twice, until you couldn’t recall how long you’d been staring at the clock.

The first thing you did this morning was shoot out of bed and gulp down your breakfast. There wasn’t time to idly chat or greet every single one of your family members. You had a job to do, and that was to convince Norman that this 'Seven Walls’ plan was better.

The office door stood before you like a timed bomb. It towered over you, made you feel small and helpless. What if you were too late? What if there was nothing you could do?

An uneasy smile twitched on your lips. You had to stay solid for Ray and Emma. They relied on you, and you couldn’t let them down. “Ready?”

Their eyes were bright with resolve you didn’t seem to have.

“Yes.”

“’Course!”

Why were you so nervous? Just look at them, they were so confident that Norman would listen. But of course your Norman would listen, right? He wasn’t the type to brush you off or act all high and mighty. He was sweet, considerate, and wonderful.

You sucked in a sharp breath to steel yourself. “Nor--?”

Three heads turned to stare as you opened the door. One was a woman with curly hair, another a tall guy in a suit, and the last one, a guy in a military vest.

Norman wasn’t at his desk.

The three strangers sat sprawled throughout the room. Two on either couches, and one in the back. Crumbs lay on the coffee table where stray pieces of wrapping fluttered about. A tea cup sat a little ways away from the wrappings, still steaming and piping hot. They had to have been here for quite some time. The lady raised a brow and glanced at the tall guy behind her. “Who are they?”

You and Ray kept straight faces.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “I’m Ray.” Emma tried for a wobbly smile. “I’m Emma and this is (Y/n). We come from shelter b-zero-six-three!” You glanced at your companions, then back at the three adults in your path. The lady turned to the guy behind her again and asked another question, but you weren’t listening.

What were they doing here? Most importantly, were they dangerous? Sure, Norman trusted them (they were in his office after all), but was that enough reason for you too? He was revered as a god here, you reminded yourself. It wouldn’t be out of the park if he acted differently around these people.

“Where is...the ‘Boss’ at the moment?” you respectfully inquired. The guy in the vest adjusted his position on the couch. He swung his feet off the coffee table dramatically and said, “The Boss is out of the office right now. He’s on urgent business.”

You frowned. That didn’t sound good. “We’ll come back then. Talk can wait.” you decided. “Let’s--”

The vest guy stood up and the lady followed. Your chest tightened as he slowly turned to meet your eye. “No, wait a second.” He placed a hand on Ray’s shoulder and the lady set a hand on either side of you and Emma. They smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. “Why don’t you stay for tea?” the lady inquired. They steered you over to the couch and plopped you all together one after the other.

You didn’t like where this was going. Urgent business? What could be so urgent that Norman would decide to leave so early in the morning? You folded your arms over your chest in thought.

It's been taking me a little longer than expected to set it in motion.

Norman mentioned a bit about his plan last night, but not in full detail. You recalled the brief mentions of a poison, as well as the obvious portion of genocide and degeneration of demons. But what else did he say?

I've decided to officially start tomorrow.

Your frown tightened and your fist clenched. Of course he would go out of his way to start the plan as soon as possible. He didn’t need distractions, much less people against his will. You remembered the smile he forced onto his lips. It was wry, and hollow, and fake, and everything that he wasn’t.

Fortunately, I've always been pretty good at getting what I want.

You wanted to be angry--no, livid--yet the aching in your heart said otherwise. Norman did everything in good faith. All he wanted was to save everyone without spilling a single drop of blood. But did he realise the guilt he’d have to carry once his plan was complete? Did he realise how much blood would stain his hands?

You heaved in a subtle breath to compose yourself. “So,” you began. “What did you wish to speak about?” Vest didn’t seem to welcome your presence. He planted an arm on the coffee table and leaned across with that stare that could burn straight through you.

The lady, on the other hand, sat at the edge of the couch with that giant piece of meat in her hand. You wondered if that was actually some regular type of meat. It was far too large to be a pig, much less a wild animal.

Was it just you, or were these guys kind of creepy?

“I’m Cislo,” Vest firmly announced. “That’s Barbara. That Egghead over there is Vincent.” The tall guy, or Vincent, poured three cups of tea. He silently made his way over and set them on the table. You politely nodded his way and picked up the cup, taking a good, long sip.

Until you were sure these people could be trusted, you decided it best to stay quiet.

Cislo leaned farther over the table. You instinctively took another sip of tea. “Emma, Ray, and (Y/n), right? From Grace Field?” Ray was about to answer, but Cislo interrupted. “We’re escapees too y’know!” He hastily jumped up and planted a firm foot on the coffee table. “And for the record, our escape was way better. We kicked that farm’s ass!”

You slowly nodded with false amusement. “Is that so?” Vincent adjusted his glasses almost apologetically. He was the calmest out of all his companions, as well as the most polite. “Right.” He sounded distasteful. “You guys feel the need to childishly compete all the time... Please, accept my humblest apologies.”

Ray rolled his eyes. “Nah, you guys are amazing. Absolutely incredible. Show-stopping. It’s not like we could have done better, bra-vo.” You snickered behind your teacup and fist-bumped under the coffee table. He was trying to make you smile because he knew you were tense. And it worked.

You took another sip of tea and glanced over the rim. From the corner of your eye, you spotted a mark peeking out at the top of Barbara’s tank top. Norman had the same one right on his chest. These three weren’t normal people, weren’t they?

“Excuse me,” Emma said with a bright smile, “thank you so much for yesterday!” Oh right, you thought. Vincent was the the guy who treated Cristy and Dominics. “Yes,” you added. “Thank you, Vincent.” He returned Emma’s smile in a calmer manner and nodded. “The boss let me know about that. I wish the best for them.”

Emma’s smile brightened like the sun. “Thanks!”

The back of your neck tingled uncomfortably. Barbara’s stare was creepy, and it didn’t help that Cislo had joined in. Ray and Emma inched closer to your sides.

“That’s well and all,” Barbara started, “but we’d like to know!” Cislo eagerly nodded. He leaned farther across the table and you inched backward into the couch. “Yeah, how about you tell us? What you wanted to talk about with that guy...”

You raised a brow. “’That guy’?”

The air thinned out as quick as one could say ‘Quidditch’. A bashful grin broke out on Barbara’s lips and her face went red as a cherry. “The boss of course!” she cried. “Minerva James!” She said ‘Minerva James’ like he was a god. Cislo mimicked Barbara’s bashful expression. “What did you want to talk about with...Nor--‘Norman’, is what you guys called him?”

You didn’t have the strength to be question them.

“Even if you try to hide it, you idiots love the boss.” said Vincent. Barbara rolled her eyes. “Shut up! You love everything he does too!” Vincent turned to you, Ray and Emma. “Because you’re long time friends of the boss, they can’t stop themselves from being nervous.”

Ah, so these three were Norman’s fan club. You scoffed to yourself.

Cislo rounded on Barbara and Vincent with a newfound energy (seriously, where did that come from?). “I mean, aren’t you curious?” he inquired, clenching a fist in the air all dramatically. “When we came back from morning patrol, they were all making a fuss upstairs. Yesterday, the boss was a totally different person!” He clasped the sides of his head with a shout. “I thought, ‘what’s up with that’! I got super curious, and turns out, you guys are super good friends!”

Cislo stamped a foot down on the coffee table again. “What kinda guy is this ‘Norman’?” Barbara mimicked his elated expression. “Yeah, tell us!”

You glanced at Emma and she smiled as amiably as always. “Well, he hasn’t changed that much since back then.” She elbowed you. “Tell them!” You knitted your brows in confusion. “Tell them what?” She giggled and Ray playfully smirked. “That you’re his girlfriend.”

“GIRLFRIEND?!” Cislo and Barbara screeched.

You sent Ray a subtle glare, to which he smugly shrugged off. It was clear that he purposely said that to get a kick out of Barbara and Cislo. What a total--

“So you’re his girlfriend?” Vincent questioned, casually pushing his glasses up. “I didn’t think the boss would be ‘that type’.” You raised a brow. “What do you mean by that?” Vincent smiled and it was almost playful.

“Well?” Barbara expectantly inquired, resting her chin in her palms. “What’s he like? As a boyfriend I mean?”

You thought for a moment. Norman was kind, sweet, and gentle. He knew how to cheer you up when you were down, and he was a great cook. Sometimes, he thought too much about the little things, or became secretive and changed the subject. Sure it could be troublesome to bother with that, but it was just who he was.

And you loved him for him.

“Norman is so soft and kind,” you began, “he’s smart too and smiles so sweetly. I’ve never met anyone else like him in my life.” A fond sigh left your lips that hung in the air. Just by looking at you, everyone could tell how unconditionally your love was. You were more than just his girlfriend, you were two halves of a whole.

“He smiles sweetly?” Barbara echoed. Cislo blinked in disbelief. “‘Soft’?” They glanced at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter. You knitted your brows together questioningly. “Is he that different?”

“Stiff.” said Barbara.

“Cold.” answered Vincent.

“An emperor.” added Cislo.

That wasn’t a surprise to you, but for your siblings, it was earth-shattering. Ray spat out his tea and Emma let out a ‘WHAAAAAT’ that could have reached the heavens. Then Ray chuckled, and that turned into a stifled snicker.

“So he’s stiff and cold?” you muttered, placing a hand to your chin in thought. Barbara nodded. “Yeah, kind of like how you were before we started talking about the Boss.”

You almost chocked. Was it plausible that Norman took after your rock-solid façade while running this revolution? Logically speaking, it was normal, smart even, to make yourself known as an unshakable being. That was why you walked into this room full of strangers as quietly as you could. It gave you time to observe and figure out the little details in untested waters.

And because you stayed headstrong and cool, others followed your example.

Sometime in the conversation, Ray shared embarrassing stories about Norman with the occasional pitch from you or Emma. Seeing Ray and Emma smile over the old memories made you relax just a bit. It was refreshing to think about something other than fifty ways to save the world. The trivial, the peace, the mundane. Yes, you missed that.

A smile etched itself onto Barbara’s lips. “So even a long time ago, the boss was cool.” she noted. “Thanks, it was nice to hear so much about him.” You almost smiled at her. She and Cislo were nice to be around when they weren’t all up in your personal space.

“He’s a good man.” Vincent stated. “He cares for his companions.” A grin broke out onto Cislo’s lips. “Not with a sweet smile or softly though. For the sake of all of us, he works without sparing any time to sleep. He saved us and made use of this ‘power’ we all have.”

You carefully watched the way he and his companions shifted. As Cislo explained his time in Lambda, silence fell upon everyone’s shoulders. Lambda was far worse than any hell. Mass production was commonly practiced, and it worked to the benefit of the demons and doctors who worked there. Experimentation day by day. New medicine. New pills and syringes.

The very thought of that place made your skin crawl.

“He was a twleve-year-old brat,” Cislo stated. “But it was like I saw a god.”

There was that word again.

“The boss constructed a plan,” he added. “And the four of us, including Zazie, executed it. Until now, all five of us have been destroying and freeing the farms. It’s like I told you! We’re amazing.” His eyes carried a dark glint you didn’t like. “You don’t have to worry.”

Oh, but you did worry. Not just for Norman, but the world he wanted to make reality. That look Cislo shared with his companions didn’t help. It was bloodthirsty. It was dark and filled with a deep hatred that sent shivers down your spine. They wanted this revolution, this chance for revenge, and they wanted it now.

“With the boss’s perfect plan and our power, victory will definitely be ours.” Cislo stared off into a horizon you didn’t care to see. “I can’t wait to kill every last one of them.” He broadly grinned. “Every time I kill a demon, I get this real nice feeling in my chest.” Barbara stared at the bare bone in her hand. “Me too. Whenever I eat meat from demons we kicked, this nauseous feeling just goes away.”

You stared at the bone with wide eyes. That wasn’t a ridiculously large leg without a reason. Demon meat. It was demon meat.

Ray followed your gaze uneasily. “Uh...then that meat you just had was demon meat?”

“You must be surprised!” she exclaimed. “I wonder if it was an employee from that mass-production farm we slammed the other day. It makes me sick, us being cattle to them. Even now, I still can’t forget.” She gripped the bone so tighty that her knuckles turned white. “Their eyes...that pain...that agony every. Single. Day.”

She stood straight and bared her teeth. “Everyone here has the same enemy, but just killing them isn’t enough for me. I’ll slaughter them all and the Ratri clan!”

Emma pursed her lips together with wide eyes. Everyone in the room could see the blatant fear etched in her bright eyes. She worried, not just about the chaotic way Barbara pranced around with the bone, but for what was yet to come. If everyone else in the hideout were like Barbara, then would any of you stand a chance with fixing Norman’s estranged plan?

The woman’s gaze sharply flickered from yours to Emma’s. “What’s with that face?” she demanded. “Are you sympathising with the demons Emma? Aren’t you happy?”

Barbara leapt on the table. Her heel dug into the wood with an inhuman amount of strength. “I find it hard to believe that you wouldn’t want to kill the demons. You’re cattle. They don’t care about you!”

She ripped her gaze from Emma’s and met your own. You kept a straight face and stared right back with stone-cold eyes. “Oh, and that ‘talk’ you wanted with the boss.... I bet you were going to spew something like ‘change the plan’, weren’t you? How dare you betray us like that? If you think you’ll change his mind just because you’re his--!”

“Barbara!” called Cislo. “Stop it, you’re breaking the table.”

“--I don’t care who you are. Demons should be exterminated! Every single one of them until we’re the only ones left!”

“Barbara!” Cislo’s eyes were cold and dark. “Stop it.” His goal wasn’t to save anyone from unnecessary conflict, only to protect the poor table under Barbara’s boot. You eyed the table uneasily. Chestnut wood splintered and peeled against itself, burying the thick demon bone in broken chips. When Barbara begrudgingly stepped off the table, a clear dent sat where her boot had been. The poor table was helpless.

Just like you.

Would convincing Norman be enough? If his followers didn’t see eye to eye with your ideals, then a new plan risked ripping the whole resistance apart.

You steadily rose from the couch and smoothed down your skirt. “Thank you for the tea and the pleasant conversation.” Your voice was silky smooth. “I think it’s time we got off your backs.” You turned to leave.

“If you’re still thinking about changing the Boss’s plan, then I believe it’s time to reconsider.” Vincent announced. “You can’t stop it, it’s too late for that.”

You paused in your step and glanced over your shoulder. For a moment, you were unrecognizable. You weren’t (Y/n) anymore, or that Grace Field kid from bunker B-zero-six-three. You were another player, another great mind in this sick game of chess.

“Is that so?” you coolly inquired. “Well it so happens that working until the very last minute is a special skill of mine. The ‘Boss’ decided to hasten this ‘perfect’ plan, yes? Where is he?”

The way you looked at everyone rubbed Vincent in the wrong way. It was like you were on a completely different level, cattle or not. You didn’t care what position you stood in because you would get it done, and for that reason, you were on a pedestal higher than Vincent and the rest.

“The Boss went to meet them,” he slowly replied, “the demons.”

You nodded in thanks. He knew that look, the one where your eyes glinted and shone with a quiet roar. There was only one other person whom you shared that look with, one other man who had those same, calculating eyes.

Yes, Vincent thought. You had the same eyes as the Boss.

-----

You hated waiting. After being on the run or constantly fighting to walk step after step, it didn’t feel natural to stand around and wait the day away for Norman to arrive. And so you sat in the hospital wing with Ray and Emma, staring at the sleeping face of Christy, who had yet to wake up.

Waiting was excruciating.

“Are you okay (Y/n)?”

You met Emma’s worried eyes. They watered with unshed tears, as if she already knew the answer even if you wouldn’t acknowledge it yourself. You forced a comforting smile to your lips and gently squeezed her hand. You had to be strong. “Don’t worry,” you said, “everything is perfectly fine.”

Ray snorted to himself. “You’re a really bad liar.” You shifted in your chair uncomfortably and slowly met his eyes. “No I’m not.” Ray huffed. “If you’re a good liar, then why did you act so cold around Vincent and the others? You only do that if you think it’s necessary, like the time we first met Yuugo.”

You shrugged absentmindedly. “Sometimes, it’s to let people know I mean business. The way Barbara talked to Emma wasn’t okay, but if I started an argument it would’ve made things worse.” Emma knitted her brows together. “So you acted distant instead?”

“Precisely.”

Ray huffed again, this time more dramatically than the last. He was about to say something else, but a voice cut through the air. Norman was back. Norman was back.

In no time, you three caught up to him in his office.

“Sorry for bothering you as soon as you got back.” you half-heartedly muttered. Ray sent you a curious glance you shrugged off. Norman kept his gaze to the window behind his desk and removed his heavy cloak. You watched the way he shifted from foot to foot. There was a sluggishness in his step so subtle that if you blinked a second too soon, you wouldn’t have seen it.

“You wanted to talk?” Norman inquired, keeping his back to the window. Emma made her way over to the couch with a nod. “Yeah, about a lot of things.” You and Ray followed, settling side-by-side. A ‘lot of things’ had to be the biggest understatement you’d ever heard. There were a few points in your new plan that needed to be addressed, and you were sure a five-minute talk wouldn’t suffice.

Ray folded his hands together. “But before that (Y/n) and I would like to know...” He sharply stared at Norman’s back. “What kind of plan do you have to ‘exterminate the demons without losing a single person’? Is it a civil war?”

Norman whipped around and snapped his fingers. “That’s right!” he exclaimed. “You both always catch on so quickly.” The way he smiled in congratulation reminded you of your time at the House.

You were eleven again. Grace Field’s forest surrounded you on all sides, and Norman and Ray stood only a little ways away from you. They were arguing about something you couldn’t quite hear, and that was because you weren’t meant to hear it in the first place. Ray had yanked Norman by the collar so harshly that he stood on his tippy toes.

You didn’t understand why Ray had been so angry. Norman was just trying to figure out the best path to safety. It was for the future of not just you, Ray, and Emma, but for your family. All of them.

Everything suddenly clicked. Ray had been angry at Norman because he had done something stupid just like now. Sure, it was smart, but was it worth the risk? Was it worth all the trouble to reach the goal he wanted?

Norman’s lips moved, but you couldn’t hear him.

Objectively speaking, his plan was genius. A civil war utilising the demon clan Giran? There wasn’t a flaw in sight. No rips to break and no disruption between each consecutive step. The Giran clan didn’t care for humans, and the humans didn’t care for the Giran. It was an equivalent exchange.

According to an old book you read, ‘humankind cannot gain anything without giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value had to be lost’.

In this case, that toll was the Giran clan. They would face their demise as soon as they clashed heads with the Regent Homes, leaving Norman and his team time to poison the helpless citizens of the Neverland.

But that wouldn’t work, not when demons like Mujika and Sonju existed.

“Norman,” you said. “Do you know about the demons who don’t regenerate despite not eating human flesh? If your plan succeeds, then you’ll have to find a way to deal with them.” Ray nodded in agreement. “Yeah, if there are a lot of demons out there who don’t need to eat humans, your plan will fail from the onset.”

The room went unbearably quiet.

Norman placed a hand over his face in thought, and it was then that you realised just how desperate he was. “How...how do you guys know about that?” You frowned. That wasn’t an answer you expected. “Why do you say that?”

Norman began by explaining the differences in demon social statuses, then the whole ‘hunt’ for this ‘Evil Blood Maiden’, or Mujika. “They don’t know how we’ll revolt,” Norman thoughtfully said. “And it would be trouble for them if we got caught by the Ratri clan since you know their whereabouts.”

He paused.

“We need to track down and kill them.”

Your heart stopped. Kill Mujika and Sonju? You couldn’t do that. They saved your family when you all could have been left for the wild demons to eat you alive. They taught you all how to survive and thrive when you were all alone.

“Wait!” cried Emma. “Sonju and Mujika are our friends! They’re fine--they're our saviours--our friends! If we used their blood, then we wouldn’t have to worry about...about...” You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned to Norman. His eyes danced with a dangerous light.

“I agree with Emma. Not just because they haven’t done anything wrong, but because they could be the solution.” You wrung your hands together. “Your plan is perfect, I admit. It doesn’t have a single flaw, but it’s not...right. We’ve thought of something that could work, something that doesn’t involve killing everyone.”

That look in Norman’s eye intensified. It held a quiet flame, yet burned brighter than any fire could. “Who’s to say what’s right and wrong?” he slowly inquired. “(Y/n), you know full well that this world isn’t as simple or kind as any of us hoped it to be. They’re demons, right?”

You saw Cislo and Vincent and Barbara in his eyes. They all had that same look, that same hatred for their hunters. But if only they saw what you saw. If only they hadn’t been to Lambda and met Mujika and Sonju instead.

“Don’t you think we should close our mouths and watch them go extinct?” Norman grimly added. “Do you think you can forgive them for what they’ve done?”

No, you couldn’t forgive them. Not after seeing Conny’s body in the back of the truck. Not after what happened to Yuugo and Lucas and all your other friends. The demons made you and your family suffer.

Your throat constricted.

You almost died by their hand more times than you could count too! But how could you blame them? How could you hate them all from the bottom of your heart when you saw the vast majority for what they really were?

Your fist clenched.

Demons had families too. Just like you. They struggled to survive. Just like you. They did nearly anything to make sure their kind lived to see another sunrise. Just like you. Most demons ate to live. Just like you.

You shot out of your seat and threw a hand out. “You can’t kill a whole race!”

Norman’s eyes widened. It was rare for you to lose your cool, much less, shout during a conversation. This time, you couldn’t do that, not when Emma’s eyes were sad and glossy, and not when Ray relied on you to make the right decision.

You paused and thickly swallowed, gingerly fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“You can’t just...you can’t just kill a whole race.” you echoed. “That’s genocide. Will you be able to sleep knowing that your hands will be stained with the blood of thousands? Millions?! History always repeats itself no matter where you go or what world you escape to! Why do we have to take vengeance when we could be the bigger people? Genocide won’t bring back the dead and it won’t solve anything either!”

“(Y/n),” Norman muttered, intertwined his hands with yours. “Has this been on your chest the whole time?” You nodded and he looked at you like you were far away. “Even if we do give the demons their blood, what guarantee will we have that they won’t come eat us anyway? The king and nobility have been doing this for the past seven hundred years, the same goes for Giran.”

He released your hands and averted his gaze to the splintered coffee table. “If you were told not to eat (f/f), would you say, ‘understandable, have a great day’? You might have that self-control, but the demons don’t because they can’t sympathise with us. We are the prey, and they are the hunters.”

You heaved in a deep breath to steel yourself. “Then let’s run away, all of us beyond the Seven Walls to reforge the Promise!” Norman’s jaw went slack and he stared at you, baffled to silence. “Even though we don’t know what the human world has to offer? We don’t know if they’ll accept us or if we’ll have safe entry. How can you bet everyone’s fate on that?”

Norman eyed the way you tightly gripped the hem of your skirt. He sucked in a sharp breath, as if what he was about to say would be the hardest thing he’s ever. “(Y/n),” he softly said. “You have to think realistically. Genocide or not, the world doesn’t care about what’s right or wrong. You, more than anyone, should know that.”

He was right again. You knew how cruel the world was because you were able to keep needless emotions from rushing to your head. You were cynical. You were tough. But that was only because you needed to be for your family. They looked up to your strength and your decisive decisions that always led them to victory.

“If we don’t wipe out the demons,” Norman stated, “there won’t be a future where our family can smile.”

You firmly shook your head. “No, that’s no true. Ray said the same thing when we were at Grace Field, didn’t he? He thought only you, Emma, and I would be able to escape, but in the end, we took all the older kids with us. We survived this long, not because we cared about probabilities, but because we saw the path before us!” You needed him to understand--no, you were begging him to. “It’s there, so why can’t you...why can’t you see what I’m seeing?”

Norman silently stood. His gaze left your own as he placed a hand to his chin in thought. “I don’t see any hope in this plan,” he honestly stated, “but for the sake of this argument, let’s concede and say that we can cross over to the human world and so on.”

You heaved out a relieved sigh. At least he was considering.

“Even then, the part about the Seven Walls is unclear.” He continued to explain a few different points, some you could dispute and others you had no answer to. But by the end of it, you were feeling great. There was hope.

“We’ve already found a way to reach the Seven Walls a year and a half ago.” you matter-of-factly said. “We have everything we need, and when the conditions are met, we can go at anytime.” Norman’s jaw dropped. “You--you found it?”

You nodded. “Yes. But like you said, there are a lot of uncertainties, so if you still need more constants before stopping the plan, then I’ll go and figure out the rest.” Norman’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

You intertwined your hands with his and gave them a good squeeze. “If I come back and reforge the Promise, then you will have no choice but to stop the extermination of all demons.” He knitted his brows together in alarm. “Wait a minute.... What is this about ‘if’ you come back?”

“Regarding the risks,” Ray noted, “right now, we’re only aware of two things. We know how to get in, but not how to get out. It appears that most who went there never returned so--”

“WHAT?!” Norman cried, staring between you, Emma, and Ray. “What kind of crazy--that’s too dangerous!” You gently patted his cheek. “Well, if I don’t go, then you’ll have to carry a burden too big for your weak shoulders, right?” You giggled and it was like music to his ears. “We talked about this yesterday, and we’re all ready to go.”

Norman gave your hands a shake. “How does that make it okay?!” You offered a comforting smile. “If the first Ratri did it, then so can we. Even though we don’t know it now, we’ll find it. We want to stop this extermination, right?”

Emma and Ray nodded.

“So let us carry a bit of your burden.” A brief frown settled on your lips that didn’t slip past Norman’s line of view. “I told you this once and I’ll say it again: You don’t have to be a god and you don’t have to do everything on your own either. We’re here, right? So rely on us.”

You wrapped your arms around his middle and pulled him close. “And for the record,” you whispered, “I know you’re hiding something.” Your breath fanned across his neck and he shivered. “You’re such a naughty boy, you know that?” You pulled away.

Norman’s wide eyes narrowed deviously as a soft smile rose on his lips. He made his way over to Emma and Ray, patting their shoulders amiably. “Be careful. I can count on you all to take care of each other, right?”

“Of course.” said Ray.

“No duh, Norman.” Emma added.

“What she said.” you pitched in.

Norman’s smile warmed as he led Emma and Ray towards the door. “That’s great to hear,” he said. “I promise to bring (Y/n) back before dinner.” Ray’s brows shot up. He let out a small ‘oooo’ and steered Emma out of the office at the speed of light. “We’ll stay out of your way then.”

The door creaked close and the lock clicked in place. Norman slowly turned to meet your eye. “What was that you said earlier?” he lowly inquired, loosening his tie. “About me being a ‘naughty boy’?” It was hard to fight the heat spreading throughout your body when he looked at you like that. Like you were a glass of water to quench his thirst. Butterflies rose in your stomach and your breath caught in your throat.

He was so alluring, so freaking hot that it made you freeze in place. Norman’s lips twitched up into a sly smirk, and it was then that you realised he was enjoying this.

Norman liked the way you got all flustered. He liked the way your cheeks flared up with red. And he loved the way you struggled to keep a straight face. There was mischievous glint reflecting in his eyes as he placed his tie on the couch and strode right over to you.

Gosh, you wanted--no--needed him. Now.

You were practically panting for air and Norman hadn’t even laid a finger on you. He set your heart ablaze with a single glance and knew how to make you feel all lightheaded in the best way possible.

You paused in your step and your back hit the wall. Gosh dang it, why did you fall for that again?

"You can't think straight." Norman noted, caressing your cheek. "But that's okay. You're always in good hands." Your breath hitched and Norman chuckled. It was low, it was attractive, it was hot. How could a cutie like him act like this when you were alone? Not even you could have expected this type of unexpected, not that it mattered though. After all, Norman knew how to treat you right.

“You’re so adorable.” he said, resting a cool hand on your thigh. “I wonder what will happen if I...?” You shivered under his light touch. How dare he act so cool. How dare he make you gasp and lean further back into the wall. His touch made your cheeks burn and your lower regions go warm. He gave your thigh a squeeze just to watch you gasp again.

"N-Norman..." you moaned.

He smiled.

"You like that, don't you." His breath fanned across your cheeks. "You won't be able to stay quiet for long. I'll make sure of it." He leaned into you and your lips connected. The kiss was sweet and warm, but far from innocent. The bastard knew exactly how to make your knees buckle and your breath hitch. Somehow, it made you want more of him.

He bit at your lip and you yanked him closer. Kissed him harder.

Norman found himself snaking a hand under your shirt. He trailed over your sides with a gentle touch that made your back arch and your insides tingle. You liked it--no, you loved it. To have his hands on you and his body practically glued to you...

What more could you ask for?

Norman placed a hand on the top of your collar. "May I?" You nodded and he skillfully unbuttoned your shirt. As he pulled it over your shoulders, you squeezed your thighs together. You were wet. That much you just knew.

"Am I that irresistible?" Norman inquired. He didn't let you respond. Instead, he undid the clasp on your bra and gave your breasts a good flick. Norman watched the way you breathily inhaled.

You were so, so beautiful. An absolute masterpiece.

He experimentally fondled your breasts, squeezing and groping. If it could get any hotter in here, then you were sure it would've been a hundred degrees.

He didn't seem to mind though. Instead, he sucked in a short breath with a satisfied smile, as if your moans were the only thing he wanted to hear.

Norman's lips slammed into yours. He licked your bottom lip and you moaned. Moaned. Norman's cheeks reddened. He suddenly realised just how far he had gone. In the heat of the moment, none of you were able to register the fact that you were half-naked, or that Norman was dominant as fuck.

Don’t forget to reblog (do it for Norman!)

"You have such a gorgeous voice,” Norman slyly said. "Can you do that again?"

PART THREE

TIP JAR

#plz reblog #i'm begging at this point #do it for norman #tpn #tpn manga #yakusoku no nebarando #ynn norman #tpn norman #tpn ray #ynn ray #ynn emma #tpn emma #the promised neverland x reader #I'M SORRY OKAY #but like y'all #read pt 1 so like #ur also thirsty #the promised neverland

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emospritelet · 3 years

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Twisted Fate - chapter 28/28

Last time, Belle made up with her father, and Gold and Neal had a heart to heart. After all the crap I've put these idiots through, I'm pleased to say that they get their HEA. This is it :)

[AO3]

Gold waited for Neal to call Emma, pacing nervously in the hallway as he did so. He tried not to listen to the one-sided conversation, the ‘okay’, the ‘yeah, I know’, and the ‘I guess we’ll see’. Despite their hug, and the tears that had been shed, Neal still sounded cautious. He supposed that was only to be expected; Neal had taken less than a day to consider the matter, and there were tests to be done before paternity could be confirmed, after all. Gold had been honest when he said the outcome didn’t matter to him, but after decades of thinking his father hadn’t even known of his existence, it would matter to Neal. How could it not?

He was pleased that Neal had agreed to come to brunch, and to invite Emma and Henry along with him. It was unlikely that Henry would be told at this stage, but there would be time for that. Neal was willing to talk to him, and to let him get to know his family. All things considered, it was a more positive outcome than he had anticipated. He was trying not to think about how Neal might react if the test came back negative.

The muffled sound of talking ceased in the lounge, and Neal entered the hallway, closing the lounge door behind him and shoving his phone in his pocket.

“Uh - they’re gonna meet us there,” he said, and Gold nodded.

“Right.”

“They’re not far,” added Neal. “We took Henry to the bookshop this morning, and I thought, since I was in the area - well, I thought I may as well stop by.”

“I’m glad you did,” said Gold sincerely, and Neal hesitated only briefly before nodding.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

The walk to the diner was made in relative silence, Neal’s hands shoved in his pockets as he sauntered along with his head down, seemingly lost in thought. Gold wanted to speak to him, but held back, feeling awkward and unsure of what to say. It was a relief to get to the diner and see Belle seated at one of the tables in the window, a book held open in front of her, pressed flat by the fingers of her right hand, with her left gently rocking Gideon’s stroller as she read. She looked up as they entered the diner, and her face broke into a beautiful smile that made him want to propose there and then. He pressed his lips together and told himself to bloody well wait until he wasn’t an emotional wreck.

“Hey!” she said, reaching out to touch his arm before squeezing Neal’s hand. Neal sent her a lopsided grin.

“Hey there, Mom,” he said, and she giggled, her eyes sparkling.

“Okay, that’s a little weird, not gonna lie.”

“You’re telling me,” he muttered, but he winked at her.

“Are you joining us for brunch?” she asked.

“Yeah, I asked Emma and Henry to come too.”

“Oh, great!” Belle looked from him to Gold and back again. “Does - does that mean..?”

“It means we’re having brunch,” said Gold easily. “And that Neal and I have agreed to take a test and get some answers.”

“Oh. Well, that sounds like a good idea.”

“Yeah, it’s - well, I guess we have to start somewhere, right?” said Neal, scratching the back of his head and pulling a face. Belle closed her book.

“And what better place to start than with cinnamon pastries and good coffee?” she said, and Neal chuckled.

“Wow, you really did become a mom.”

“Loving it so far,” she said, and patted the seat next to her. “Come on, sit down. They do the best Eggs Benedict here. And the pancakes are awesome.”

“One order of pancakes here,” said Neal immediately, taking a menu from her. “Emma’ll probably have the eggs, though.”

“Why don’t I get some drinks?” asked Gold. “Belle? Tea?”

“Iced, please.”

He nodded, smiling, and raised a hand to attract the attention of the waitress. One step at a time.

Their drinks arrived shortly before the rest of the family, Henry running ahead of his mother with a wide grin on his face, interrupting the conversation just as Gold was tentatively suggesting that they might want to visit Storybrooke one day.

“Hey Mr Gold!” said Henry excitedly. “Hey, Belle! I got a new book! It’s about a princess and a dark wizard!”

He waved a hard-backed book in the air, almost knocking Belle’s iced tea over, and she put a hand over the glass as Emma rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“It sounds wonderful,” said Gold, shooting Belle an amused look. “You can read some of it to me after we’ve eaten, if you like.”

“Cool! Can I have pancakes?”

“Take a look and see what you want on ‘em,” said Neal, and Henry flopped into one of the chairs and took the menu from Belle.

“Wow, they have different kinds!”

“I’ll take that menu after you, kid,” said Emma, sliding into the seat between him and Neal. Gold noticed her give Neal’s leg a reassuring squeeze and receive a pat on her hand in return.

“Dad, did you see these waffles?” Henry held up the menu. “They have strawberries and cream!”

“Yeah, they look good, huh?” said Neal. “Did you make a choice yet?”

“Not yet.” Henry bent his head over the menu again, chewing his lip, and Neal and Emma shared a glance.

“Henry,” said Neal. “How would you feel about going up to visit Storybrooke, in Maine?”

“What’s in Storybrooke?” asked Henry curiously, looking up.

“Belle used to live there,” said Neal. “And Mr Gold has a house there. A big one. He says we could stay over for the weekend with him and Belle sometime.”

“There’s a cabin, too,” said Gold. “It’s by a lake in the woods. Plenty of space to play.”

“Ooh! Can we have a barbecue?” asked Henry excitedly, and Gold laughed.

“Yes, we could do that,” he said. “Did you decide what you want on your pancakes?”

Henry wrinkled his nose.

“Actually, the waffles look really good,” he said. “Can I get one of those?”

“You can have whatever you like,” said Gold. “That goes for everyone. This is my treat.”

“That’s really nice of you,” said Emma.

“It’s been some time since I was able to treat anyone,” said Gold, catching her eye. “Looks as though I have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Emma held his gaze, and nodded.

“You’re here now,” she said. “That counts for something.”

“Yeah,” said Neal quietly. “It counts for a lot.”

He too held Gold’s eye for a moment before turning to help Henry with his brunch choices, and Gold felt something loosen inside his chest, a sense of something that was almost relief beginning to spread through him. He glanced at Belle, and she was smiling at him, a soft look in her eyes that made him want to crawl across the table and kiss her. It was going to be alright. Everything was going to be alright.

Two years later

It was a bright and pleasant day in early May when Gold’s Cadillac pulled up outside the pink Victorian on the outskirts of Storybrooke. A U-Haul van was already there, Neal in dark jeans and a blue cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, opening the back to reveal stacked cardboard boxes. Belle got out of the car, turning her face up to the sun with a sigh of pleasure as she stretched. It felt good to be back in Storybrooke at last, although she had loved the Boston apartment that had been their home for the past couple of years. Her studies were done, Gideon had just turned two, and they had decided to move back to Storybrooke permanently.

“God, someone open the damn door, I gotta go!”

Emma had climbed out of the U-Haul, almost waddling to the path, her hand on her swollen belly. She and Neal were due to have their second child in three weeks, and she had been grumbling about her discomfort for the past two. Gold followed her with his swift, limping stride, reaching the porch before her and fishing out his keys to unlock the door. She headed for the stairs immediately, not looking back, and Belle grinned, remembering her own frequent bathroom trips at that late stage of pregnancy.

“Here, you want a hand with the kids?”

Neal appeared at her side, grinning widely, and Belle smiled back.

“Could you get the stroller out?” she asked. “I can get Gideon.”

“I’ll get him.”

Gold had reappeared, pocketing the front door keys, and leaned in to kiss her with a smile before heading around to the other side to un-clip Gideon from his car seat.

“Here we are, Gid,” he said easily, lifting him out. “Welcome to your new home.”

Belle smiled as Gideon looked around, supremely unconcerned at the news. They had visited Storybrooke a number of times over the past two years, though not since before Christmas. She was looking forward to spending their next Christmas in the house with all their family, including Emma and Neal’s new little one. Though she could have done without the ‘Grandma’ title Henry had cheerfully given her.

Neal had taken out the stroller and unfolded the frame, and Gold put Gideon down, ruffling his hair absently.

“Guess I’ll start taking the boxes,” said Neal.

“I’ll help,” chirped Henry, appearing at his side.

“Don’t lift any of the heavy ones, leave those for your dad,” said Belle, as they headed for the van.

She turned back, watching as Gold reached into the rear of the car to un-clip the seat carrying their new baby daughter. Florence had been born in early April, and Gold was besotted with her. She stared up at him with wide, dark eyes, her head covered with soft brown hair.

“Here we go, my princess,” he said softly, a wide grin on his face, and Belle smiled as he clipped the seat into the stroller and closed the door.

“I’ll take her in and get her changed,” she said. “She’s probably due a feed, too. Would you warm the milk?”

“Of course.”

Gold scooped up the bag containing Florence’s baby things and hurried towards the house. Belle shook her head as he disappeared through the door, wondering where he got his energy after a restless night and a long drive with two small children. Gideon hurtled up the path after his father on sturdy legs.

“Gid, slow down!” she called.

He looked around at her, still running, and tripped, hitting the path with a thump as his arms tried to break his fall. A wail went up, and Belle sighed.

“I’ll get him,” said Neal.

He shifted the box he was carrying into one arm and went to scoop up his little brother. Gideon wrapped his arms around Neal’s neck, still crying, and Neal shushed him, bouncing him in the crook of his arm.

“Hey little guy,” he said soothingly. “You’ll be okay. See what happens when you don’t listen to your momma?”

Gideon calmed in his big brother’s arms, and Neal kissed his cheek.

“There, see?” he said. “All better. What do you say we go see Papa and get a nice cool drink in the kitchen?”

“Cookie?”

“If your Mom says so.” Neal glanced at Belle, who nodded, and he tickled Gideon’s ribs, making him squeal.

“Yeah, let’s get a cookie,” he said. “You’re getting bigger, huh? I bet you’ll eat as much as me at dinner.”

“Go see Ganny?” asked Gideon excitedly.

“Yeah, we’re going to Granny’s for dinner,” promised Neal. “You can show her your new book, how about that?”

“An’ cake!”

“Yeah, you can have some cake, too.”

Belle watched them head up the path, Neal balancing Gideon on his hip with the box in his other arm. She could hardly keep the smile from her face. In the past two years Neal, Emma and Henry had truly become family. At times she had caught Gold looking at his son with pride and something approaching disbelief on his face, as though he was half-expecting to wake up from a dream at any moment.

It hadn’t all been perfect, of course; there had been difficult moments as they went through therapy, and tears on all sides, but it had brought them closer together. Emma had even been talking about getting a job in Storybrooke sheriff’s office in a year or so, and Gold had offered to help Neal set up his own accountancy business. They hadn’t made a firm decision on the move yet, but Belle thought it was only a matter of time. Henry was certainly enthusiastic about the idea, and had already made friends with a couple of the local children. The thought of having her whole family in Storybrooke was wonderful.

She inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of cut grass and fresh flowers into her nose, and began pushing the stroller up the path towards their house. It was good to be home.

Belle licked her lips, fingers gripping the sturdy brass key and turning it. It moved smoothly in the lock, a satisfying click sounding, and she pushed open the door.

The library smelt of fresh paint and beeswax polish, the contractors having finished with the decorating the week before. The wooden floor and circulation desk had been polished to a high shine, empty stacks lined up, waiting to be filled with the collection of books that were stacked in cardboard boxes along the wall. Towards the back, there were folding tables and chairs, some sized for adults and some for small children. Belle intended to run some after-school and evening classes, and had already spoken to Mary Margaret about a collaboration with the school.

Stepping forward, her heels clicked on the polished wood, and she walked slowly towards the circulation desk, running a hand along the curved edge as she let her eyes roam around the space.

“Surveying your new domain?”

She smiled at the sound of Gold’s voice, and turned on her toes to face him. He was standing by the doorway, the spring sunshine silhouetting him through the glass, dust motes dancing in the air around him like fireflies.

“Where are the kids?” she asked, and he glanced over his shoulder.

“Emma and Neal are watching them,” he said. “I have you all to myself.”

He was grinning, and Belle shot him a level look.

“No hanky-panky in the library,” she said severely. “I want this place to be successful, and it won’t be if no one comes in because they’re worried about catching us in a compromising position.”

“You say that like it’s inevitable.”

“Do I need to remind you about David walking in on us in the pawn shop that time?”

Gold waved a hand.

“The sign very clearly said Closed,” he said. “It’s not my fault he can’t read.”

Belle giggled, and turned back to look over the library. He stepped forward to stand by her side, eyes flicking over the freshly-painted walls.

“It looks good,” he said. “All ready for the inimitable touch of Storybrooke’s wonderful new librarian.”

Belle slipped her arm through his, resting her head briefly on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have it if not for you,” she said. “I’m still amazed you got the Mayor to agree.”

“Well, exerting influence is what I do,” he said. “Besides, she’s an intelligent woman. She knew the building was only standing idle. A relatively small investment of town funds was worth it to provide a valuable public service.”

“I certainly intend to make the most of the opportunity,” said Belle, turning back to run her eyes over the empty stacks. “I thought next Saturday for the grand opening. I’ve asked Granny to prepare some party food, and I need to make some flyers, design some activities for the kids…”

“Get some books on the shelves?” he teased, and she grinned.

“I thought you, Neal and Henry could help with that tomorrow.”

“Hmm.” He looked amused. “I suppose Emma shouldn’t really be carrying books in her condition.”

“She can supervise,” said Belle. “I’ll give her a crash course in the Dewey Decimal system and she can hold a clipboard and boss us around.”

“Sounds like something she’d enjoy,” he said dryly.

“You like being teased by your daughter-in-law, admit it.”

“Certainly not.”

He was grinning, and she turned on her toes to face him, twining her arms around his neck as she leaned in to kiss him gently.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For believing in me.”

“Well, how could I not?” he said, his grin widening. “Miracles happen whenever you’re around.”

“Sweet-talker.”

“I never exaggerate,” he said gravely. “You should know that by now.”

“I know that I’m a very lucky woman,” she said, and he smiled.

“I’m the lucky one.”

The silvery chimes of the old music box played, and Gold crooned a low lullaby as he rocked his baby daughter in his arms. There was a faint sound of laughter and conversation from down in the kitchen, but Florence barely stirred as Gold kissed her forehead and laid her in the crib.

“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered.

He took a step back, turning to the music box and winding the key to ensure the tune continued to play while she settled into sleep. The music box had sat in the nursery in Boston, playing its tinkling tune first to Gideon, and then to Florence. He was pleased to be returning it to Storybrooke, where he had first acquired it, and where he had painstakingly worked to restore it over the long months when he and Belle were trying to rebuild what was broken between them.

“Is she asleep?”

Belle was leaning in the doorway, and he looked up with a smile.

“Out like a light,” he said. “What about Gideon?”

“Fell asleep before I finished the story,” she said, and he smiled and held out a hand to her.

“Care to dance, Mrs Gold?”

She stepped forward with a smile, taking his hand as the other crept around her waist and pulled her close. He breathed in, pulling the scent of her in through his nose and sighing it out, and Belle let out a tiny noise of contentment.

“I’m so happy I met you, Alexander Gold,” she said.

“So am I,” he murmured. “I got a second chance with you, Belle. A second chance at life. I swear to you, I don’t want to miss a second of it.”

Belle raised her head, shaking her hair back off her shoulders.

“You won’t,” she said decidedly. “We’re going to have an amazing life together.”

“It’s already more than I could ever have dreamed of,” he said sincerely. “I have a beautiful wife who gave me two incredible children. I have my son back in my life, and a daughter-in-law, and soon I’ll have two grandchildren.”

“More family than you know what to do with,” she teased, and he chuckled.

“Oh, I think I could stand to have more,” he said, grinning, and Belle swatted his arm.

“Give me a year or two and we’ll see,” she said, and Gold laughed.

“Deal.”

Her smile grew, and she rested her head on his shoulder. The music tinkled on, and he held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his as they moved in time. Life was beautiful.

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle fic #my fic #rumbelle

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yixxes · 4 years

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The Birthday Gift

Warnings: Angst

Word count: 1051

Summary: A misunderstanding with an ex is blown up by the media and causes a rift in your relationship on a very special day.

(single-father!Tom x celebrity!reader)

“Do you really think I’m that stupid!?”

Never in all three years of being with Tom had you ever seen him this angry. You tried your best to be calm and understanding because if the roles were reversed and you saw photos of him in a kissing sitch with his ex, you’d want his head on a stick too, but he didn’t know the full story.

Your ex was a real piece of work. He caught up to you on the streets, shameless and drunk. He knew about your relationship with Tom, everyone did, but that never seemed to stop guys like him. The whole thing was plain bad luck. You just happened to be in the same city as him and it just happened to be one of the few times that you went out without your security team. He saw his opportunity to be slimy and he took it. He cornered you, he kissed you, and you fractured your hand punching him in his face. By the time you finished having it looked at by a doctor, the pictures were all over the internet, except they coincidentally forgot to post the ones where you struck him in his jaw for forcing himself on you.

The media was having a field day and your relationship was in ruins. Tom wouldn’t answer or return your calls or texts and you weren’t close enough in proximity to do damage control. You were a little ways away from him in pursuit of the perfect gift for Emma, but the closest shop that sold exactly what she wanted was about an hour away on a plane.

You got back to his city but it was late. Tom still hadn’t made any moves to talk to you so you slept in a hotel and showed up the next day, gift in hand, and all you wanted was to give it to Emma before things could get out of control but Tom wasn’t having it. He sent Emma straight to her room and things went completely haywire from there.

“You’re not even giving me a chance to speak!”

“And say what, that I didn’t actually see you kissing your ex!? That you didn’t use Emma’s birthday as an excuse to sneak off and make off with your dirty little secret!?”

The fact that he was accusing you of something so low down and dirty physically pained you, but you swallowed any and all spiteful comments that you could have made. “He kissed me and I didn’t kiss him back, I didn’t even know he’d be there! I really was looking for a gift for Em, I have it right here,” you lifted the gift bag as proof. “I didn’t come here to fight with you, but if you aren’t ready to talk, it’s fine, I get it, please just let me wish her a happy birthday, this gift is all she’s been talking about.”

She wasn’t yours biologically, but you loved that little girl like she was. You accepted her happily from the start, you never failed to include her in things, and caring for her came as easy as breathing. The two of you were attached at the hip and all you wanted was to see how happy she was when she saw what you got her. It’d be the silver lining to this big mess.

“You’re right.” He said stiffly. “I’m not ready to talk, and I really don’t wanna see you right now. I can’t be with someone who lies to my face and does things like that behind my back.”

Teary eyed, you sucked in a breath, certain that you knew where he was going with this.

“I can’t do this with you right now. I think you should leave.”

“No!” Emma turned the corner that she’d been eavesdropping from since he sent her to her room and darted past Tom, latching onto you with a deep frown on her face. “Don’t make her leave, Daddy, she’s sorry for whatever she did wrong!”

“Emma, I told you to go to your room, we’re just talking-”

“No!” She cried, unknowingly breaking your heart when she started to cry and held on tighter to you. “You always forgive me whenever I accidentally do something wrong if I say sorry! Just let her say sorry and then she can stay, Daddy, don’t make her leave!”

The way that Tom was staring at you made it clear that he would be doing no forgiving and that he stood by his previous suggestion: you should leave. Fine. You’d go but you’d give her her gift and a big hug before you did. Lowering yourself to a squatting position, you pulled the porcelain doll out of the bag and showed it to her. “How’s that for a birthday gift, huh?” you wanted to smile and extend happiness over to her, but she looked distraught.

“But.. you s-said it was... too far away and that you couldn’t get it.”

“I may have told a little white lie,” you confessed, smiling against the tears that threatened to fall at any given second. When she threw her arms around you locked her fingers together and began sobbing, you lost all of your composure. What could you do? She was crying and physically trying her hardest to keep you from leaving. She cried into your shoulder, begging you to stay, even reminding you that it was her birthday as if you ever would’ve forgotten. You wanted so badly to stay, but you couldn’t. “I hope you like your gift, but I have to go now, okay? I’m gonna go now.”

Her cries grew into something that closely resembled hysteria and it absolutely destroyed you. “I love you so much, with all my heart, okay? Please just...don’t cry anymore, don’t cry.” You felt awful for unbinding her fingers from behind you so that you could slip from her grasp. You could barely look her in the eye. The devastation that stared right back at you was tearing you apart. “Happy birthday, honey.”

You kissed her forehead and hurried towards the door, locking eyes with Tom on your way out. “I love you.” you told him, feeling the hot tears run down your face. Your chest ached terribly when you saw a tear roll down his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

@spideygirl2003 u da realest 😎😂❤️

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker #tom holland angst

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

Text

Skyline Manor by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 5/13

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 5: We have an Accord

“What do you mean you lost him?” Sir Henry watched from his hiding spot behind a stone column as his uncle spoke with the Captain who had burst into his room.

“I saw him on the staircase during the dance, I went after him, and he vanished from sight.”

“Dammit.” The King cursed. “The good news is that the diamond is still in the place it was left. So, he was unable to take what he came for.”

“If he was unable to claim his prize, he will return. He will need shelter in town, my men and I will remain in port, seek information at the tavern. He may have won this round, but I do not intend to lose the game.” The Captain said confidently.

“See to it that you don’t. We can’t afford any distractions.”

“Was your sister able to choose a husband tonight?”

He groaned. “She did not. I do not understand the hesitancy of women. The Duke would make a fine husband, yet she continues to search the realm for something that she may never find.”

“What is it that eludes the Princess?” He asked.

“What every woman wants of course, true love.”

“And she has not found this with your friend the Duke?” He questioned with a laugh.

“I had thought she might, his Grace is a good man, he would make an excellent husband but my sister…”

“What do you speak of your sister?” The men turned toward the approaching voice, the Captain’s heart stopping as the blonde woman came into view. “It is unkind to talk about a woman behind her back.” Killian felt his mouth standing agape and tried to will it to close. The woman from his dance earlier was Princess Emma?

“I was simply saying that my sister was the star of the ball this evening.” The King said with a knowing glance to the other man.

“You have not yet introduced me to your guest.” She mused, turning toward him, and offering him her hand. Killian took it gently, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss against her knuckles.

“Captain Killian Jones.” He announced, though he knew quite well that she was aware of his name as he had given it to her earlier.

“Captain Jones.” She touched the tip of her finger to her chin. “No, I don’t believe I’ve heard of you.” She said without a care in the world.

Killian smirked as she stepped away from him, a slight grin pressed to her mouth. “I must take my leave.” He said suddenly. “I have urgent business to attend to.” The King returned his nod. “It was a pleasure to meet you Princess Emma.” He bowed in her direction. “Until we meet again.”

He slipped from the room, taking one last glance over his shoulder at the blonde woman that had his heart in his throat.

“Sister, tell me you’ve interrupted me to announce your decision to marry the Duke.”

“I have made a decision.” She paused. “I have decided that I will not marry the Duke.” She announced without fanfare.

“Sister.” He chided. “Why not? Did he not please you tonight?”

“He was pleasant, I suppose, but I met many men tonight. Perhaps one of them is…”

“Not the true love thing again! Emma, I told you, it is time that Henry has a man in his life.”

“He has many men in his life. You, William…”

“His jester does not count as a man in his life.”

“He most certainly does. He’s the best friend Henry has ever had.”

The King sat down unceremoniously on his throne. “Sister, I want to ensure you are taken care of. This means you must marry.”

She sighed. “I will. I promise.” She spun around in her dress. “There was a man tonight that I danced with…” She bit her lip.

“A man, what man?”

“A man.” She restated. “He was handsome, and charming, and very intriguing.”

“Well, you must decide soon, or else I’m going to accept the Duke’s offer.”

Princess Emma rolled her eyes, excusing herself from the room. There was no way she was going to marry the Duke, not when there was a chance for adventure and intrigue in figuring out who Captain Killian Jones was and what his business was in her realm.

Henry was pleased with the way the party had turned out. Even though his mother spent most of her evening talking to Graham, he couldn’t ignore the way that Killian’s eyes seemed to find her from across the room after returning from the basement. His mother had even lifted the ban on his visits with their neighbor and Henry found himself splitting his time between building Legos with Will and stopping in to provide a treat to Smee after dinner.

However, when he knocked this evening, he was met by another man at the door. “Evening, lad. If you’re selling something, I don’t live here.”

Henry narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. “Who are you? You aren’t Killian?”

The man appeared surprised to hear Killian’s name. “I’m Liam, who might you be?”

“I’m Henry, Killian’s friend.”

“Are you now?” He said with a laugh. “Well in that case, please do come in.” The man stepped away from the door and Henry bounded into the apartment. “Brother, you have a friend here to see you.”

Henry turned toward the man. “You’re Killian’s big brother. Wow, it’s great to meet you.”

“You seem to know about me, and yet I know nothing about you.” He seemed to question his brother as he entered the room.

“Henry, here to see Smee?” Killian interrupted. “Liam, this is my neighbor, Henry.”

Henry held the treat up high for the dog, rewarding him when he sat as he was supposed to. “Are you a Captain too?”

“Liam’s in the Navy. He’s a Lieutenant onboard the USS Delaware, it’s a submarine.”

Henry’s eyes grew wide. “You mean you go under the water?”

“Aye, you never know what’s lurking beneath.” Liam responded with an eerie grin.

“That’s really cool. Did you ever go in a submarine?” He turned toward Killian.

“I prefer to Captain my ship above the water.”

“So, Henry, do you live next door with your mom and dad?” Liam asked.

“I live with my mom; my dad lives across town.”

The man glanced at his brother. “Is that so?”

“Speaking of your mom, isn’t it your dinner time kid?” Killian scolded. “I don’t want her coming over here yelling at me again.” He laughed.

“We’re having tacos tonight.” He stood up and patted the dog on the head. “It was nice meeting you, Liam. See you tomorrow, Killian.”

“Talk to you later, kid.”

~*~

Killian closed the door behind Henry and turned to see his brother staring at him with a smirk on his face. “What?”

“So, you’re hanging out with a ten-year-old now?”

“He’s eleven, and he’s a nice kid.”

“Are you sleeping with his mom?”

“God, Liam, of course not.” He exclaimed. “Why do you accuse me of sleeping with every woman I meet?”

“Don’t you?” He laughed.

“No.” He argued, walking back into the kitchen to finish dinner.

“Are you still seeing Belle?”

“She’s around, yes.” He knew where this conversation was leading.

“Interesting, it’s been what, six months? That’s some sort of record for you.”

Killian groaned. “I know where you’re going with this. She’s not my girlfriend. I meant what I said that night, I’m not interested in a relationship.”

“Interested or not, you’re already in one. So, if you don’t actually want to be with this woman, you need to end things before she gets hurt.”

“No one is getting hurt; we’re just having a little fun. That’s all.”

“Suit yourself, brother. But one of these days, you’re going to have to break that promise or you’re going to end up alone.”

~*~

“And he works underwater all day!” Henry exclaimed excitedly.

“How chu u wrk under watur?” Will spat, his mouth full of food.

“Would you not speak with your mouth full! How old are you?” Emma scolded the man.

“Sorry, Ems, how does he work under water?”

Henry laughed, reaching across the table to grab a slice of bread. “He’s a Lieutenant on a submarine. Isn’t that cool?”

“That’s very cool. I had no idea he had a brother.”

“I did, he told me about him before. He lives in Maine, where Killian used to live before he had to move.”

Emma chuckled, sharing a glance with Will. “He told you all of that.”

“He tells me loads of things when we hang out. The other day, he was doing his laundry and singing. He said it’s a sailor thing to sing when you’re sad or melon collies.” He scrunched up his nose as he said the word.

“Melancholy.” Emma corrected.

“You guys should invite him to your happy hour tomorrow night. He doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends around here, except for Belle, of course.” He paused then sat up straighter. “Or me.”

“That’s a bloody good idea, kid. The more the merrier.”

“What did I tell you about using that word around Henry.” Emma whispered.

“His eleven not six! Would you rather I used the F word?” Will groaned.

“Fruit?” Henry responded, looking at her with a confused glance.

“No.” Emma said shortly.

“Oh, that word.” Henry laughed. “I don’t think you should use that word. My friend Roland said it in class the other day and our teacher sent him to the office, he didn’t come back to class for an hour.”

Emma watched the boys on the other side of the table making jokes and laughing throughout dinner, it made her heart settle seeing Henry smiling. She had hoped that he would get past his initial disappointment from his father bailing on him for a month so he could go chase some ass in Barbados.

While she had been wary of him disturbing and bothering the neighbor, her son seemed quite taken with the man. Ever since the barbeque Henry had lost himself in his writing, spending all of his time jotting down notes in the notebook that he thought he was hiding from her.

She would never read any of it without his permission, but her teacher had told her that he was a talented writer with a very creative mind, so she tried to give him his space to allow his imagination to grow.

As long as he was happy, Emma was content to give him the wings he needed to fly.

“So, do you want me to invite Jones, or would you prefer to drop by yourself.” Will wiggled his eyebrows at her and she slapped him on the shoulder.

“What’s are you trying to say?”

“Just saying, he’s an attractive man, a fact that hasn’t escaped your attention.”

“I have Graham, I don’t need an attractive man.” She bit her lip. “I’m not saying that Graham isn’t attractive. He is. Very. God why do you always get me so worked up?”

“That’s what I thought.” He stepped into the hall and headed to his door. “I’ll let you invite him. Would hate for you to miss a chance to stare into those baby blue eyes.”

“I hate you.” He turned around and gestured toward her shirt.

“Maybe open a button or two, ya sexy git.”

Emma extended her middle finger toward her friend as he closed the door in her face. Turning she looked down the hall and exhaled loudly. Before she could head toward his door, it opened and a man stepped into the hall, turning right toward her.

He was tall with lighter hair than Killian’s, and he didn’t carry that same devil-may-care attitude that her neighbor seemed to have at all times. Emma cursed under her breath as he approached, and she stood rooted in her place like a statue.

“Evening.” He said with a smile.

“Hello, you must be Liam. My son hasn’t stopped talking about the man who works under the water since he got home.”

The man’s grin grew wide on his face. “Henry, right?”

“That’s him, about this high…” She held her hand up in front of her. “Loads of questions.”

He laughed. “He is very inquisitive.”

“I’m Emma.” She held out her hand and he took it with a firm handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you Emma. Glad to see my little brother has some friendly faces around him.”

“Well, we are one big happy family here at Skyline Apartments.” She internally cursed herself for sounding like a complete idiot.

“It was very nice to meet you, Emma. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” He raised his eyebrow and then nodded at her as he headed to the elevator.

Emma waited until the elevator doors closed before turning down the hall toward Killian’s door. Standing in front of it, she brushed her fingers through her hair, stopping at the collar of her shirt. Without thinking she undid the top button, pushing her chest out.

What the hell was she doing? She didn’t come here to flirt with the man, she had a boyfriend!

For the hell of it she unbuttoned the second button, shaking her head in disbelieve at herself and knocked on the door.

The door opened quickly, “Did you forget something?” He paused, his eyes trailing from her face down her body before snapping back up to meet her eyes. “Uh sorry, Swan. Henry’s not here.”

“No, yes, I mean, I know.” She said with a slight fluster. “I’m here to ask if you wanted to go to a bar. Tomorrow.” The smirk on his face started to grow. “I mean for happy hour, with my friends, not like you and me or a date or anything like that because I have a Grant…Graham.” The words spilled out of her mouth as she reached up to grab a lock of her hair, spinning it between her fingers.

“Are you asking me out, Swan?” He teased.

“To happy hour, Jones. You can bring Brittany.”

“Belle.” He stated with an arrogant chuckle.

“Sure, bring her too. 7pm, Howl at the Moon on High Street.” Turning quickly, she walked away, she was sure her face was a special color of red. As she got to her door, she turned the handle but sadly realized the door was locked. She glanced back toward Killian’s apartment and saw him leaning against his door watching her in amusement.

“Door’s locked.” She said absentmindedly, knocking on the door. When Henry didn’t answer she turned and knocked on Will’s door. “Just gonna check on Will.” She hollered toward Killian who was currently staring at her with apparent glee. The door opened and Will looked at her with a grin.

“Back so soon? My God did you take off the whole shirt.” Emma shoved him backward into the apartment and slammed the door shut behind her, leaning against the door and banging her head backwards. “So…”

“Don’t say anything.” She warned with her finger in his face.

~*~

Killian climbed the plank of the Jolly Roger, exhausted and feeling slightly defeated by this Baelfire man. As soon as he approached the ladder, he heard a noise behind him. Turning he saw his first mate standing behind him.

“You left early.”

“I tried to find you. What happened tonight?”

Killian stared at his boots. “He was there. I saw him. And lost him.” He growled.

“Did he get the diamond?”

“No. But he won’t leave without it.”

“So, we’re staying.”

“Aye, I will not let this Swan Thief best me. Tomorrow I will go into town and inquire about this Baelfire man.” He turned toward his quarters. “Get some sleep, French. Tomorrow we play a new game.”

“Aye Captain.”

He closed his cabin door with a thud, kicking the ladder at the end of his bunk. He had not been beat in a long time. Yet this man got away from him. He wouldn’t leave until he had this Baelfire in irons.

He heard a creak outside his door and reached for his cutlass. Blowing out the candle at his desk, he creeped toward his door, hiding in the shadows.

The door squeaked as it slowly slid against the wooden planks, a dark figure stepped into the room, peering into the expanse of his cabin. Killian stepped forward, wrapping an arm around the neck of the intruder, and putting his blade to their neck. “It’s bad form to enter a man’s room uninvited.”

“Don’t hurt me.” The woman squealed and Killian dropped his resolve for a second, long enough for the lass to turn on her heels, a dagger sticking into his side.

“Well played, love.” He growled, whipping his arm forward and grabbing the dagger from her hand, spinning her in his arms until he had her pinned to his desk. Reaching up he grabbed the hood from her cloak and yanked it from her head. The moonlight shone on her face, a smirk growing across his lips. “You’re a long way from the castle, Princess.”

“I was just curious.” She said softly.

“Curiosity is dangerous for someone of your stature.” He removed the blade, releasing her from his grasp. “Does your brother know you strayed from the castle?”

“My brother spends far too much time worrying about my affairs.” She complained.

“How can I be of service, M’lady?” He said with a mocking bow.

“What is your business with the King?” She asked.

“I told you earlier, it’s confidential.” He pulled the bottle from his cabinet, pouring a glass of rum for himself and his curious companion. Pushing the glass toward her, he took a swig of the warm liquid. Watching as she eyed the glass, her fingertips sliding around the tip.

“Is it in regard to the Duke?” She mused, taking the glass in her hand, and smelling the liquid it held inside.

“I’m as uninterested in the affairs of the Duke as it appears the lady is.” He narrowed his eyes, watching her put the glass to her lips. His brow raised as she hesitated with the drink. Sensing this, she tilted the glass, swallowing the liquid inside. As soon as it reached her throat she began sputtering and coughing. The Captain laughed, taking the glass from her hands.

Putting her hand over her mouth, she coughed once more, then lifted her chin. “And the King was not trying to convince you to offer your own hand?”

Killian chuckled. “I have no need for a wife?”

“He’s hired you for something.” She said angrily. “I want to know what it is.”

“Are you quite certain you can handle it?”

“I’m not a child.”

“No, you most certainly are not.” He said, stepping closer to her, his hand reaching out to run his fingers through her golden locks. Her breath hitched in her throat, but she didn’t move from her spot. “Baelfire.” He whispered.

“What did you say?” She gasped.

“Your brother believes a man named Baelfire to be the notorious Swan Thief. He asked me to stop him from stealing the jewel of Arendelle. A diamond I believe.” He left out the part about knowing the man’s connection to the Princess.

She blinked. “It can’t be.” She stepped away from him. “He’s not been seen in years.”

“I can assure you; I saw him with my own eyes tonight. At the castle.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Henry.” She turned toward the door. “I have to get back to the castle.”

Reaching forward he grabbed her by the arm. “Princess.” She turned toward him, a frantic look in her eyes. “This man terrifies you?”

“He can’t get near Henry.”

“I will find this Baelfire, love. I won’t let him near you or your boy.” He said earnestly. She didn’t flinch at his words, but her expression softened.

“Meet me tomorrow morning, behind the Thirsty Lion.” She turned to leave before spinning back to him. “But say nothing of this to the King.”

“We have an accord, Princess Emma.”

“Call me Swan.” She smiled, pulling the hair clip from her tresses, and pressing it into his hand and scurrying up the ladder as she retreated from his sight.

“Swan.” He whispered into the shadows, holding his palm up to the moonlight, the silver swan hairpiece glistening in its glow.

From the shadows of the deck, a figure watched the woman retreat from the Jolly Roger. Slipping into the darkness, he covered himself with a large canvas tarp. He was unsure what business his mother had with the Captain, or if any of this had to do with the man that was being hunted outside the castle, but Henry was determined to find out.

#skyline manor #stacy's fics #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan modern au #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan

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orionwhispers · 4 years

Text

Sweet Disaster// Tommy Shelby

(A/N - hello. so basically, i had a dream about chris evans, and then i modified it into this tommy imagine. it was supposed to be a drabble but i physically cannot write anything less than 12k words so thats great. honestly this is very similar to ‘fools gold’ but hey, im in the mood for some angsty fluff and fighting with our main guy tom. next tommy imagine will be the lolita wedding and that will be the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed. thanks for everything, PLS let me know what u think. see you soon! stay safe!)

trigger warnings: fighting, tommy being a douche, everyone being a dumbass, tommy getting jealous and implied sex.

You saw him on a Saturday night, at a bar on the outskirts of the city.

It had been three months, and you had hoped you would have managed to slip through the cracks; pass through the night like the foxes that roamed in the back alleys - but you had never been that lucky, especially not when he was involved.

It was your friend’s birthday, and you tipped back glass after glass of expensive champagne that bubbled and burned at the back of your throat. The lights were blinding, twinkling chandeliers and the smell of cigarettes and french perfume, something like bergamot and vanilla, lingering in the air.

Your dress was cherry red, your hair tied back with a sequinned headband and your lips and cheeks painted in rouge, but you had never felt so awful. It had been bad enough trying to find something to wear, the contents of your wardrobe tipped all over your floor, a mess of mesh and feather and lace, almost everything reminding you of him, as if he had been stitched right into the fabric. You had ended up curled in a ball on the floor, wiping your tears with the Chanel blouse he had bought back from a business trip in Paris.

Stupid fucking boys.

You could hear the girls talking around you, high pitched giggles and exaggerated voices as they gossiped about something or other that faded into static around you. You had spent the past three months holed up in your flat, only leaving for work or the street market on Sunday, stocking up with bread and wine and cheese, everything carb filled and rich to fill the hole in your heart.

You weren’t used to the company of others or the hustle and bustle of a crowded room, and you sat back against the plush cherry velvet seats, dreaming of climbing into bed and devouring the slab of dark chocolate you had been saving.

Your close friend Emma, the one who knew the reason you were staring into space and not laughing and drinking with the rest of the girls, placed a manicured hand on your shoulder, and tilted her head slightly.

“How are you holding up?”

You snapped out of your trance.“I’m fine. I’m sorry I’m not much fun right now.”

“Nonsense.” She pushed you lightly, her voice as soft and playful as ever. “At least you came out! It hasn’t been the same without you.”

“Yeah - I’m sure everyone missed having me bawl like a baby and mope around.”

She elbowed you, “Stop bloody feeling sorry for yourself and have a shot! Christ! You can spend the rest of the week wrapped up in your duvet, but tonight - suck it up, and have a drink!”

She handed you a glass of something dark, and you brought it to your lips, tipping it into your throat with a wince. It felt as though you were drinking petrol.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. All that matters is that it’s top shelf and it came from those fellas over there.” She pointed towards a group of men huddled around the bar. They were shooting quick glances and sly winks towards you and your friends. Sure they were relatively attractive, most likely handsomely rich and dressed in suits that looked finely tailored - but they made your skin crawl.

You hated the way that you would always be comparing other men to him, and you especially hated how they would always come up short.

An hour later and whatever liquor was coursing through your bloodstream had done its job, and everything seemed infinitely brighter. You even found yourself laughing at jokes and stories that you only caught halfway through, the alcohol wonderfully dizzying your brain.

You were so caught up in the rush of being drunk and finally feeling somewhat happy for the first time in forever; that you didn’t realise you had caught the attention of one of the men across the bar. You felt him sidle in next to you, following his friends who had snaked their way into your booth, their arms slung around the girls shoulders, whispering sweet little sentiments into their ears.

“Can I get you a drink?” He asked, so close to you that you could smell the sour whiskey on his tongue, your nose wrinkling.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Perhaps you had spent so long being ‘Tommy Shelby's girl’ that you had forgotten what it was like when you were being hit on. You had spent so many nights safely tucked under his arm, his hands possessively wrapped around your body, an unspoken threat sent out to everyone and anyone around you - it had been a long time since a man had tried his luck with you.

Perhaps you were so infatuated with him that you never noticed anybody else. Your mind forever filled with visions of oceanic eyes and three piece suits, his Birmingham accent ringing through your ears like a gospel. He invaded all of your thoughts and infiltrated your dreams, and you loathed and loved him for it. The way that he filled your brain and heart like smoke, clouding your decisions and judgments, like some kind of magical elixir, blurring everything but the shape of him.

The man beside you didn’t concede. He cleared his throat, running a finger over the rim of your glass, ignoring the way your eyebrows furrowed and lip curled.

“Let me get you a drink, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl.

It sounded so wrong. It was never pretty girl. It was - darling, sweetheart, princess. It was - my love, honey, kitten. It was said teasingly and exasperatedly, it was whispered in your ear and buried into the space between your thighs. It was never said in the sticky corner of a club, from the greedy mouth of a stranger undressing you with his eyes.

“I’m - ” Taken. But you weren’t, not anymore, and you hated the way the thought of him made your lip wobble. It’s had been three goddamn months, why did the memory of him still make your body go up in flames?

Emma stiffened beside you, waving a dismissive hand at the gentleman speaking to her, and turned to face you and your unmoving suitor.

“We’re alright here, love. Thanks.”

A flicker of annoyance. His fingers tightening until his knuckles turned white, his tongue running across the ridge of his front teeth. He obviously didn’t take rejection well, and he was doing a shitty job at hiding it.

“Are you sure? It looks like she could do with another drink.”

You swallowed thickly, eyes rolling back at the way he dismissed you and spoke as though you were incapable of thinking for yourself.

“I’m fine.” Your words were curt and clipped, a clear indication of your disinterest, but he refused to back down.

“You shouldn’t be here all alone.”

“I’m not alone.”

“Really? What kind of man would leave a pretty little thing like you all by herself?”

“The kind of man that would punch you in the fucking teeth for speaking to her like that.”

You froze.

Oh Christ.

A million irreverent, evil, blasphemous phrases hurtled inside of your mind, and you knew that if Polly somehow ever caught wind of what you were thinking, you would be on the receiving end of a sharp slap around the head.

He was here. Of bloody course he was. He had a knack for showing up out of the blue and knocking all of the wind from your lungs.

It hurt like an open wound, feeling his eyes on you, the same ones that had looked at you with love and humour and gentleness, and not being able to fully meet his gaze - knowing just how much it would hurt if you did.

“She’s with me.”

His voice was firm, laced with the same sort of dismissive irritability he used to use whenever somebody tried their luck with you. This time was different however, you couldn’t roll your eyes and kiss him, you couldn’t put your head in the crook of his neck or mutter that you were his under the golden chandeliers, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hip.

You couldn’t do any of that anymore, because you weren’t.

The man seemed pick up on the tension, clicking his tongue slyly, unaware of the consequences his words would have. “Doesn’t seem like she is.”

“Get the fuck out.”

The penny must have dropped for the rest of the boys. The booth going silent as they realised just who the handsome shadowy figure towering over them was. You felt them slowly inch away, head down and gazes low, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire. A few hushed mumbles of “holy shit! That’s Tommy Shelby! One of those blinders!” hurtling around the tables beside you, not completely drowned out by clatter of the jazz band.

“I have every right to be here.” The ballsy stranger said, stiffening up beside you. His spine curled as he tried to make himself bigger. “Who says I have to leave?”

You huffed at his words, exhaling like a balloon. “That’s enough.” You didn’t want to cause a scene. You were exhausted, the night taking such a sudden turn you felt like you had whiplash, and the alcohol sat deep in your gut like a rock. You just wanted to get home, away from the man you wanted so badly your fingers ached to hold him, and crawl into your bed with your cat and a mountain of chocolate.

“Well, considering I own the fucking place, I think that I do - and if you don’t, I’ll shoot you.”

That seemed to do it.

You kept your eyes focused on the mans paling face, the grim look washing over him like salty sea air, you didn't dare turn and face the man you could feel burning holes in your neck.

“I.. I...” The man spluttered almost incoherently, rising to his feet and stumbling out from beside you. From behind you you heard Emma giggling coyly into her glass. “Sorry.” He mumbled quickly, his knees buckling when Tommy clapped a hand around his shoulder, holding him in place like a dog.

Tommy’s voice was still, almost too controlled, and you knew that his words were deadly. “If I see you around these parts again, I’ll put a fucking bullet in your skull.”

He gulped and nodded, darting into the sea of bodies in the crowd.

You kept your eyes low. Fumbling with the pearl clasps of your purse you squeezed Emma’s hand in parting and rose to your feet, wanting to leave as painlessly as possible, not even daring to look up at the face staring you down.

“I should go.” Was all you said, sliding out of the booth and onto the marbled floor. You saw the way the rest of the girls were watching the scene unfold before them, and you knew that by Monday you would have a lot of questions to answer, but right now you needed nothing but the safety of your flat.

You didn’t even let your shoulders brush against him. You coiled around him like a snake, your feet moving so fast your embroidered shoes were nothing but a blur of scarlet. You only made it to the hallway, he let you go far enough that you were in private before he reached for you, a familiar, large hand curving around the dip in your shoulder. You hated the way your body reacted, goosebumps rising to his touch unconsciously.

“(Y/N), wait.”

Your name on his tongue was sweeter than honey and richer than wine, it sounded so right that it hurt. It had been so long since you had heard him call you by your name, so long since he had spoken to you that your gut was twisting inside of you, your whole body aching for him to do nothing but repeat that word like a mantra.

You inhaled, thinking of a way out. It was too dangerous, you were playing with fire and you couldn’t get burnt, not again.

“I’m sorry — I didn’t know, it’s Jessica’s birthday and we - ” You hated how you stumbled over your words. You had never felt so uncomfortable around him and it made your skin crawl. You had kissed him under the stars, laughed with him in the corner of a private party, made love to him in every room of his fucking mansion, and now he felt like a stranger.

You knew what he looked like when he woke up, with his sleepy eyes and tousled hair. You knew what he looked like when had spent the night doing something unholy, you had cleaned his knuckles and kissed his wounds as you sat pressed up against him in the tub, his hands wrapped around your waist. You’d stood by his side, your hands intertwined in the middle of some expansive ballroom, and listened to him sweet-talk his way into a new business deal, all the while stroking his thumb over yours. You had seen him vulnerable, pulling you so close to his chest that it was like you were bound together, whispering to you how he loved you, how he couldn’t live without you.

But he still let you go.

He moved in front of you, leaving you with no choice but to meet his eyes. He looked good, but that was a given, he always did, no matter the circumstances. He looked so... soft. He always seemed that way around you, his eyes getting a little bit kinder, the harshness of his words dipped in sugar, even the sharpness of his jaw looked inviting and gentle, practically begging you to wrap your palm around it.

You bit your tongue. You were being ridiculous. You were seeing things that weren’t there. It was over between the two of you, he had made that very clear. You were grasping at straws and all it was going to do was hurt you.

He spoke suddenly, his thick accent cutting through the silence that felt so loud. “It’s alright. Only really been ours since last night, there were... problems with the last owners.”

Despite everything you felt the ghost of a smile tugging on the edge of your lips, immediately knowing what ‘problems’ he was referring to.

“Arthur?” You asked.

“Yes.” He said with a small grin. “Arthur.”

A moment passed. The air around you feeling all too hot and all to cold at once. It had been a long time since you had seen one another, and both of you were caught up in appreciating such familiar beauty up close. You had missed the small things about him, like the slight curl of his hair and the veins in his neck, you could remember running your lips across the curve and dip of his throat.

You were treading in dangerous waters. It wouldn’t be long until the current pulled you under, and you weren’t quite sure how much longer you could keep a rational mind. You inhaled, flittering your eyes to meet his in some kind of signal of parting, pulling your clutch tighter to your body as an attempt to keep yourself grounded. “I should go. It was good to see you, Tommy.”

You spun on your heel, heading for the large golden doors that led outside. Fresh air would clear your mind, the stars and the velvet night would be good for clearing out all of the junk rattling around in your skull, but you barely got two steps forward before he spoke, already knowing his next words before he even opened his mouth.

“Let me drive you home.”

He spoke so surely, addressing you the way he would one of his brothers or Johnny, as if he knew what was best for you. Once upon a time you would have believed that he did, let him grasp you by the wrists and drag you to the end of the world if he asked nicely, those fucking baby blues and pink lips dulling any warning sirens in your head.

Even now, after everything, you knew that he would never put you in danger, that he would always protect you. And it was with the knowledge of that striking your heart like lightning, you knew that you were still hopelessly, undoubtedly in love with him - not that you ever thought differently, but you had done a damned good job of pushing your feelings away.

“You’ve had a lot to drink,” He said, “and I wouldn’t even let you out on those fucking streets by yourself stone cold sober.”

You pursed your lips. “I’m not drunk, and you don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m driving you home.”

You looked up at him through your painted lashes, disarming him in a million different ways you didn’t even realise. You were oblivious to the fact that his breath felt trapped in his lungs.“You and I both know that’s not a good idea, Tommy.”

“Cmon. Get your things.”

You sidestepped away, pushing the bottom of your heel deeper into the champagne coloured carpet. “No Tommy, I’m not a child! I don’t need your help.”

He rolled his eyes, something akin to fond exasperation rising to his cheeks. You felt your heart drop and flutter like it was a sparrow inside of you, you had never thought you would see that face again, and it hurt how something so simple could twist and mould you in his hands like clay.

He pressed his hands to the small of your back, pushing you forward.

“I don’t care if you don’t want my help. I’m doing it anyway.”

You huffed. Too tired and drunk and confused to put up a real fight.“Fine.” He smiled coyly and his smug attitude made you click your teeth, running a hand through the curls in your hair, not stopping the childish retort on the edge of your tongue. “Prick.”

You felt his hand swat at you, dangerously close to the hem of your dress and you were certain that your cheeks were the same colour as the candles flickering on the tables below. It was such a playful, tender thing to do, and so horribly familiar - memories of his hands on you, pinching and teasing and digging in, a way of communicating without words, something so intimate and personal, something that only the two of you knew.

You wondered if he felt the same way. You wondered if he was reminded of the past, of peach moons and starlight kisses and strawberry lipstick, but as always he remained impassive, as poker faced as always as he strolled down the hall, pushing open the wide brass doors and waiting for you to pass through, him trailing behind you, like always.

———————————————————————

Through your hazy eyes the moon almost looked pink, like a spotlight shining down on you, illuminating the both of you as Tommy’s car purred down the streets, like a black cat stalking under the cover of darkness.

It smelt like him.

Like cigarettes and sin and mint and woodsmoke. You were reminded of driving at midnight with the windows down, his hand wrapped around your thigh, his eyes anywhere but the road. You thought of sticky skin and leather seats and the smell of sex, breathless little laughs and the feel of his teeth biting down on your top lip.

You stared at the polish on your fingernails, hoping for some kind of distraction from the man beside you. It wasn’t far to your flat, and you prayed that the drive home would be as hitch free as possible.

“Had a good night?” Tommy asked, looking over at you from behind the wheel. He’s not even sure what he’s saying, his usually mechanical brain almost short circuiting because you’re finally next to him again. Words and phrases seem tasteless and meaningless, but he wants to savour as much of you as he can. He knows it makes him hypocritical, especially given everything he’s put you through, but he’s never really been very conventional with his love.

“It was alright.”

“Friends from work?”

“Yeah. It was Jessica’s birthday, she wanted to get drunk, you know how it can be.”

“And that...that man - ?” He cleared his throat, hoping that his words came off breezier than they sounded in his head, pretending as if the thought of you with somebody else didn’t feel like a noose around his neck. “Who was he?”

“Just some stupid twat.”

Your words weren’t doing much to quell the fiery flicker of anger inside of him, half of his brain telling him to turn the car around and put a razor blade through the fuckers eye - but one glance over at your sleepy, beautiful face and all of his jealousy fades into mere smoke.

None of it matters.

Nothing will ever matter more than you.

“I shouldn’t have even been out tonight, but Emma practically dragged me.”

Emma. The name rings a bell. He flips through a mental picture book of everyone you’ve spoken about, and finally lands on the glamorous, dark skinned, velvet haired vixen that you called your best friend.

Memories come flooding back.

The nights you would spend with her when he was too busy with work. How in the darkness of his office with nothing but an empty feeling in his chest and glass of bourbon beside him, the phone would ring and cut through the silence.

He’d roll his eyes when Emma spoke quickly down the line, words slurred and filled with giggles as she would explain the drunken shenanigans you had both fallen into. He’d drive through the night and the dim city streets, his mind for once not filled with business deals or money, instead his heart tugging at the thought of his doe eyed, honey lipped girl waiting for him in the city.

“I think she had too much to drink.” Emma would say, clambering into a taxi cab she had managed to hail, teetering in her tall satin shoes. “I wanted to take her home with me, but she was causing such a big fuss and asking for you - couldn’t bloody say no.”

Outside the club his voice would be stern and his stare would be solid. Clipped, quick words to the doormen, feeling you press your cold nose into the base of his throat, mumbling something incoherent about how pretty he was. He’d scold you fondly. Settle you down in the back seats of his car and cover you up with his jacket, smiling ever so softly at the way you cuddled into the warmth and the familiar smell.

He thought of how lonely his nights had been without you.

“How is she?”

“Fine. Everyone is just fine.”

But how are you? He wants to ask, but he has a feeling that no matter the answer he’ll still end with a bullet in his gut, so he lets the silence engulf the both of you, nothing in the air but unspoken tension and the soft purr of the engine.

He had an idea. Something conniving and crafty, something that he’s been wanting to do since the night he told you that it wasn’t safe to be with him, the night he told you to leave. Thomas Shelby has always been a strong, level headed man, but something about you just makes him crumble. You have a way of twisting around him, snaking around his thoughts and feelings like a vine, and he gives himself up wholly.

He would never put you in a position you were uncomfortable with, but he can’t help the claw in his gut when he thinks of how long it’s been since you’ve been apart. He can smell the sweet liquor and perfume on you, can see the way your eyes are glossed ever and your hair is mussed. You’re tired, and after the way that goddamn leech of a man had been fawning over you Tommy is in no mood to leave you alone, he likes knowing that you’re safe, it’s the only thing that makes him able to sleep at night.

He glanced over to you, watching as you yawned into your palm, your soft, pretty eyes looking at the stars and the moon and his decision was made for him.

“You missed the turn.” You said a few moments later, perking up a little in your seat.

“Hmm?”

“You missed it. You should have turned left back there.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you’re pretty sure you know the reason why. Despite the part of your body that is sparked like a match at the thought of spending the night with him, you also know that it is too dangerous, that the two of you together are fire and gasoline.

“No. No, Tommy. I’m not staying over with you.”

“Yes you are. You can stay in a guest room - it’ll give you time to sleep off that hangover.”

“I’m hardly drunk.”

“Well, when we get home you can walk in a straight line for me, eh?”

“It’s not my home.”

That hurt.

He ignored you, feeling the familiar bite of irritation, hating that he wasn’t the same man to you that he once was. He could feel his tone getting desperate, and under any other circumstance he would be furious at being so weak, but never around you. “Just stay. Tonight? For me. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re not getting into any trouble.”

“Tommy Shelby never sleeps.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest, sighing in defeat. Tommy smiled, and realised as the car lurched over the bridge that’ll take you back where you both belong that he’s the happiest he has been in a long time.

—————————————————————

His house was as intimidating as ever, even more so under the thick blanket of the night. The architecture looked gothic, the sprawling roof and high chimneys almost seeming menacing as the car pulled up along the gravel, the low sound of the rocks crackling like a fire.

It almost felt strange. A house you had stepped foot in hundreds of times, suddenly feeling unfamiliar and mystifying. It was like the very first time you had seen the house a few years ago, how the large rooms and the tall ceilings seemed empty and dangerous, as though they housed a million secrets.

But since then it had been full of so much light. You had danced with him playfully, barefoot on the kitchen floor, with the windows open and soft jazz flittering in the air like sunlight. You had slept on the sofa in the drawing room, tangled up against his bare chest, the room littered with wine stained glasses and cigarette burns. You had laughed until you had cried, kissed him on the vivaciously on the mouth, sat through dozens of rowdy family dinners, shared coffee and pastry under the sleepy morning light - and now it felt as though a million years had passed.

You let him lead you inside. Keeping a safe distance and a wary eye as though he was an unpredictable stray dog that needed to be kept at arms length. He sensed your suspicion and ignored it, marching forward like a solider, pretending that your distrust didn’t make him feel awful. He hated to think of you on edge because of him, he hated how small it made him feel. He never wanted to be insignificant to you.

You noticed how bare it was in the hallway. Once upon a time the coat rack would have been filled with your furs and shawls, your pastel pink boots and his forever charcoal posh oxfords lined next to one another, a poignant reminder of their owners and the differences that you both shared.

It wasn’t just lack of your belongings, somehow the house seemed much emptier. It didn’t smell as worn as it usually did, the warmth of a recently lit fire didn’t dwell in the air and there were no keys or shoes by the front door. You knew that Mary kept a clean house, but this was something different, and a sour thought suddenly hit you.

“You haven’t been home much?” You tried to keep the jealousy out of your voice and remain level headed, but it was proving hard when you were feeling so nauseous at the thought of him sharing a bed with somebody else.

“Lot of late nights at the office.” He shrugged his jacket from his shoulders and wrapped it around a hanger, his icy blue eyes catching yours. “Home didn’t feel like home anymore.”

You didn’t miss the implication in his words, but you chose to ignore it.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“I thought I was here to sleep.”

“You are. But what kind of host would I be if I didn’t offer my guest a nightcap?”

You made a noise. Something halfway between a scoff and a huff.

“Tea? Whiskey?”

“No, I’m fine thank you.”

“What about hot chocolate? I still have some of that god awful strawberry stuff you love so much.”

Memories of sickly sweet strawberry kisses flash in your head. Images of Tommy wincing and groaning as if you had poisoned him. Belly laughs and pillow talk. All things you had tried so hard to forget.

“No. I don’t drink that anymore.”

He looked at you. There were no diamond chandeliers or dark corners or red velvet walls distorting your appearance, just the two of you stood opposite in the hallway of his mansion. He looked you up and down, not in a sleazy way, like the man at the bar who had so desperately wanted to get his hands under your dress but almost - longingly. There was something in his eyes. Swimming right in those ocean eyes was something you couldn’t quite make out, he opened his mouth to say something but before he could speak you heard the whine of the door above you.

“Mr Shelby! You’re back.” It was Mary, stood at the top of the stairs. Still dressed in her maids uniform despite the ungodly hour, she looked as pristine as ever, and you couldn’t think of a time you had seen the elderly woman without makeup on. She flew down the stairs, eager to offer Thomas anything she could, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she finally saw you.

“Miss (Y/L/N)!” She said, trying to control the shock in her voice. She hadn’t been there the day that you left, but it wouldn’t take a fool to guess what had happened between you and her boss. Just like you, she probably assumed you would never return to the Shelby house. After a moment she smiled kindly, regaining her composure after the initial shock. “It’s a pleasure to see you once again.”

“And you, Mary.”

“Oh! Mr Shelby I’ve made up your quarters and -” she stopped, realising what she was saying and she awkwardly shifted as she tried to change the subject. “Can I get you anything? Shall I bring you some tea? Or some wine?”

“Oh no. I’m fine thank you, really.”

“You know what Mary,” You heard Tommy say, a cigarette dangling from his lips. “Can you fix us some drinks? Whatever’s in the cupboards is fine. Oh, and bring us those chocolates Ada brought from New York. We’ll be in the sitting room.”

“Tommy - ” You started, but he was already gone, walking through his house with renewed energy, and you strained your ears to hear the sentences he called out over his shoulder.

“One drink. For old times sake.”

“Ugh. You’ll be the death of me, Shelby.”

———————————————————————

It should have been awkward. It should have been awkward and uncomfortable and painful - but it wasn’t.

He lit a fire, something about the yellow flames and the crackling wood soothing you like warm milk. You missed the feel of his sofas, the ones that cost such an outrageous price that it made your eyes water, and you sunk into the cushions far more easily than you liked. Mary had made your favourite drink, and the situation felt so familiar that it was ridiculous, but it was more ridiculous how good everything felt.

He was as charming as ever. Giving you those side eye glances and cheeky smiles as he spoke, asking about your family and telling you stories of the trouble his brothers had been in. He moved around the room in a blur of navy, because as God would have it tonight of all nights he was wearing your favourite blue suit, the one that made him look so beautiful and powerful.

He didn’t ask about work, and you were glad, because you weren’t ready to tell him yet.

Perhaps an hour passed, the two of you dancing around each other, neither one wanting to be the one that crossed the line first. Your mind was blurry but you knew that this had gone on too long, you needed to pull the plug before it was too late, but as always, Tommy got there first.

“It feels like fate.” He said, his voice so much warmer than it had been a few moments before.

“What does?”

“Running into you tonight.”

You scoffed. “Please. Tommy Shelby doesn’t believe in fate.”

“I didn’t. Not until I met you.”

Your whole body felt like it had been set alight. He knew just what to say to get you to curl around his little finger. He was watching you intently, moving forward so his elbows were on his knees, as though he was desperate to hear your reply. He was being honest, more so than he had been in a long time, but your mind was too filled with the past to give into his sweet words.

“So,” You said, knocking back the last dregs of your drink. “Are you just going to pretend it never happened?”

“What?”

“Cut the crap, Tommy.” You snarked. “You know what I mean.” A breathless laugh. “God, this is ridiculous. I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Don’t say that.”

You rubbed your forehead, massaging away a migraine you could feel brewing. “I need to go to bed. I don’t want to get into all of this again.”

“(Y/N) - ”

“Goodnight, Tommy.”

You stood up and heard the sound of his glass of whisky hitting his red oak table. Your fingers touched the edge of the door handle, but he was pulling you backwards before you could leave. You were facing him, trying to keep your eyes away from his, not wanting to go falling into him the way your body desired.

“You might not want to talk but you can listen.” He said, so close to you that your noses were almost touching. You pursed your lips and squirmed like a child, but he raised an eyebrow and you huffed, letting him speak, his words shattering you like you were a sheet of ice.“Im still in love you.”

You bit your lip to stop from crying. The scab had been picked off, blood clotting down your ankles and onto the floor.

“Think I will be till the day I die. Even after.”

His words were so sincere and you wanted to believe them. You could feel him watching you, cornering you, willing you to say the words back, needing to hear the words fall from your lips.

You held up one finger, trying to stop him from speaking. “Don’t.”

“It’s true.”

You could feel the hot prickle of tears forming in your eyes, and the way your throat constricted like you’d been swallowing cotton balls.“Was this the plan all along? Invite me back, get me drunk and think I’ll crawl back into bed with you after you tell me a few lines?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I would never do that to you.”

He was angry. More so with himself, he’s always been in control, so articulate and calculated, but he was losing his grip on you, his knuckles turning white. He knew he made a mistake that night when he told you to leave, but his pride was too strong to do anything about it. Seeing you tonight had been more than just a coincidence, he knew that, and everything in him was screaming at him to fight for you.

“I miss you.” It ached for him to say it out loud, such a powerful man admitting that you were his weakness, that you bring him to his knees like he’s a child.

“I miss you too, Tommy, you know I do. But - ”

“I fucked up.”

“Tom.”

“I never should have let you leave.”

“We - Us - It’ll never - ” You couldn’t think let alone speak, all of your words twisting and tumbling from your mouth like loose marbles.

“We were a lot of things, but you can’t tell me that we aren’t supposed to be together.”

“I don’t want to talk about this... I can’t!”

“So let’s not talk.”

His lips met yours and you were on fire. The breath you didn’t know you were holding was knocked out of you by the force of his body on yours. His hands were all over you, checking you were real, feeling the curve and dip of your body the way his mind had conjured up in the dark in the months that you had been gone, he savoured you entirely, he devoured you.

“This isn’t - This isn’t right.” It was lie. Nothing felt more right. Your whole body ached and quivered for him, you wanted to breathe in his smell and run your fingers through his hair until they bled, but you also didn’t want to go down without a fight.

He knew you too well though.

“Stop it.” He had you backed up against the wall, his body pressed in between your thighs. He’d caged you in, one hand curling softly under your jaw, manipulating you so that you had no choice but to look right into his damn sea foam eyes. “Stop being so stubborn.”

“Stop being such a prick then.”

Lips on your neck. His hands all over you. Inhaling your perfume and the smell of your hair, digging his fingertips into your hip, a jolt of pain that you knew would leave a bruise. He captured your lips again, relishing in the way you felt under him, he was desperate for more, and he smiled cheekily when he heard you moan.

“I thought you wanted to go to sleep.” He teased, his voice was playful but he was struggling to keep his composure, he felt like his head was being held underwater, the pleasure teetering on pain.

“I hate you.” You said, gasping for air, feeling adrenaline and liquor and lust flow through you.

“No you don’t.”

You bit down on his plump bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. He winced slightly, and rolled his eyes, shoving you backwards into his bookcase, kissing you even harder. A few novels and a porcelain figurine fell to the floor, the small black horse shattering at your feet. He grumbled slightly, and you giggled into his neck. You bent down to try and collect the broken pieces but he swatted your hand away, kissing and sucking all across your neck and throat, wanting to mark his territory.

“Stop that. I don’t want you cutting yourself.” He muttered into your flesh, clasping your hands together and holding you by the wrists, refusing to let you do anything but melt into him - not that there was anything in the world you would rather be doing.

Slowly the kisses got softer, more tender, all across your collar and shoulders like raindrops. There was something methodical about it, almost poetic, like he was trying to savour the taste of your skin, and the way your body rippled under him. After a moment he stopped, his hands tangling into your hair, gripping you by your jaw, looking into your glossed out, wide eyes.

“I really fucking missed you. I’m sorry.”

You shuddered. “I know.”

“Tomorrow we’ll talk. Alright?” There are a million things he needed to say. A million things he needed you to know, but there was nothing more important to him at that moment than having you under him, letting his body show you all of the things he couldn't put into words. He needed you, all of you. His head was fucked and he needed the wash of calm you gave him, he needed to feel whole, the way that only you could make him.

“Tomorrow.” You whispered.

He nodded solemnly. Ducking his head and pressing your mouths together, hot and raw and heavy. You were sweeter than sugar, stronger than whisky and prettier than all of the stars in the sky, and he struggled to keep himself from buckling at the knees under your touch. The only thing that could stop him from moulding your bodies together were the sweet little words that left your lips, the ones that rang like a gospel in his ears.

“Take me to bed, Tommy.”

————————————————————

He broke it off three months prior.

You had been missing each other, your schedules hectic and mismatched, and it had been a good few weeks since you had spoken for more than a few stolen seconds over the telephone. Finally, like the sun parting through rain clouds, there was one weekend that was empty in both of your diaries and Tommy told you to expect a car outside of your flat one Friday afternoon.

A whole weekend. Two days and three nights spent with your beloved, it should have been a time filled with late nights and rumpled bedsheets, coffee in the morning and wearing nothing but his linen shirts and the pretty lilac underwear he loved so much - but it turned soon turned sour.

On Sunday you had been making rhubarb pie. Folding and rolling the pastry between your fingertips, listening to the birds whistling through the open window and the lull of soft jazz from the radio behind you.

He had taken a call. A sullen look falling over his face as soon as he answered the phone. He had shut himself in his study, and all you could hear was the deep rumble of his voice and the sound of his footsteps, and so you left him alone, and busied yourself with other things.

It had all been so wonderful. Riding his horses through the fields, reading books under his arm as he rifled through papers, stealing kisses that tasted like hard candies and peppermint. You'd forced him to relax, made him take a bubble bath with you, poured lavender and vanilla oil across his aching shoulders until he let out an involuntary moan, ran your fingers through his hair until his breath evened out and his eyes fluttered shut, finally feeling at peace next to the woman he loved.

You’d laughed and made love and kissed and danced and it had all be so perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

For 48 hours he had been yours. He wasn’t “Thomas Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders,” he had been your Tommy. You weren’t a fool, you knew that work was always the most important thing to him, that he lived and breathed for the company he had built from his two bare hands, his work ethic and brilliance was something you admired about him, but it didn’t mean that it didn’t sting when he slipped back into business mode.

It had been about an hour, and you were cleaning the counters, something soothing about finding the dark marble granite under the mess of flour. You knew that Mary would have a fit if she knew you were cleaning, but you enjoyed the normalcy it gave you. You heard him before you saw him, the sound of his matte leather brogues on the tile in the hallway, and you lifted your head when you felt his presence in the doorway.

“You need to leave.”

His tone was so sudden and blunt that it almost made you laugh, but one look at the sallowness of his skin and the intensity in his eyes made you straighten up. “Excuse me?”

“It’s Sabini.”

“What about him?”

“He knows - he fucking knows.”

He was being uncharacteristically agitated, and it sent a deep chill down your spine. You lurched forward, hands spread, wanting to carry some of his worry. “Knows what? Tommy, calm down.”

“He’s had men lurking outside your flat.”

“What?”

“One of the new boys spotted ‘em. Fucking filth have been there all weekend.”

You felt your heart sink to your stomach. Truthfully, whilst the thought of Sabini and his men watching you made your skin crawl, you were more worried by the way it seemed to have frazzled Tommy. You weren’t used to seeing him so... anxious, and that sent red hot warning signs to your brain.

Your relationship had never been a secret per se, but you never made it public. After a few months of rendezvous in hotels and bars up and down the country, and Tommy realising his feelings for you were much more than just lust - he laid everything out bare. He told you he wanted you. But he also told you what the consequences of hanging off his arm were. You knew the risks, knew what chaos his love could bring, but you were falling so deeply that none of it mattered to you. You weren’t stupid, and Tommy did everything in his power to keep you safe, and the two of you found a mellow middle ground, a place where you could be happy and young and in love, without all of the mayhem.

“Well - it’s alright. I’m here. I’m safe aren’t I? He was probably just scoping the place out, he probably thought you were there and - ”

You were rambling, and most of what you were saying was untrue. You both knew the reason that Sabini was there, it was a message, a warning. A threat to Tommy that he could take away his weakness with one snap of his slimy little fingers.

You shrugged off your apron, and stepped towards him, shaking your head. “We knew that one day this would happen. That people would find out, it’s not your fault Tom.”

“We were stupid. We were reckless.”

“And what? We were supposed to just stop living our lives in case somebody saw us?”

“Not just somebody. Somebody who could fucking kill you.”

“Tommy.”

“You need to leave.”

“Listen to me -”

“I’ll get Bernard to drive you to the station. Your friend...” He paused momentarily, trying to remember a name he had heard in passing. “Sarah? She still lives in Manchester doesn’t she? You’ll stay with her till I’ve sorted this out.”

You scoffed, your eyes the size of dinner plates.“I’m not leaving.” You tried to make him see sense, but you were having a hard time keeping your voice levelled. “I’ve got work, Tom. I can’t just up and leave.”

He ignored you. You could see his brain whirring a mile a minute, the wheels inside his mind frantically looking for a solution. You marched over to him, forcing him to look at you. “I’m not scared.”

“Well then you’re a fool.”

“Am I? For not running at the first sign of danger?”

“Don’t fucking start with me. Not about this. This isn’t some fucking game.”

“I never said it was, Tom. But what? I’m supposed to hide out in another fucking city until all of this settles down.”

“Stop being so fucking difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult. I know what I signed up for, we both did. We knew this would happen eventually.”

“And now that is has - we have to be smart.”

“Not everything in life is a business deal.”

“What would you know about that?”

It was a low blow. Something that struck you like a winning punch to the gut, you stepped back from the impact, shaking your head and pursing your lips. You’ll let him brew in his anger, let him get worked up and pissed off, and you’ll wait for his apology in a few days, something expensive and designer showing up at your front door, his way of saying “I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”

“You know what? I’m leaving. Call me in a few days when you get your head fucking screwed back on. We can talk then.”

“No.”

It came out strangled, like the word sliced the inside of his throat when he said it.

“What?”

“You need to stay away. We need to end this.”

“End this?” You scoffed. “What? Like we’re just a business deal?”

“It’s not safe, and I can’t do anything that’s going to jeopardise the company.”

“The fucking company?” You were furious, your body stinging with hurt, feeling betrayal wash over you like sour milk. “How - How dare you!”

“I think it’s best if we spend some time apart.”

“So this is it then? You’ll throw away everything just because some fucking man has been looking around corners?” His silence made you more enraged, and you willed him to fight back. Fight for you. “Do you want me to leave? Do you want me to go, Tom?”

Silence.

And then - “It’s not safe.”

“Fuck you.”

That was the last thing you had said to him. Three words replaced with two that shattered around the room like an earthquake. You had tears in your eyes, and you rushed upstairs to pack your things, your heart breaking into sharp little pieces inside of you. He could hear the start of your sobs, the ones you tried so hard to muffle with your hand and he truly fucking hated himself. He gripped the marble above the fireplace and steadied his breathing, pushing out any thoughts of the weekend. He willed himself to shove away the happy memories, the sound of your laugh and the smell of your skin, the way he didn’t hear the shovels when you were beside him, safe and warm in his arms.

He needed to do what he did best, regain control and protect those he cared about, and right at the fucking top of the list was you. Any niggles of rationality and guilt telling him that pushing you away was wrong quickly turned to ash in his mind, he was certain that this was the right thing to do, despite the way that it really fucking hurt. He had to keep you safe. Men like him didn’t get to have nice things like you.

So he shut the door to his office, muffling the sound of you rummaging around upstairs, a part of you wishing and hoping that he would open the door and kiss you and apologise, and instead he picked up the phone, and went back to work.

———————————————————————

You woke up to sunlight painting your skin, and an empty bed, the silk sheets in disarray and bundled beside your bare body.

Oh fuck.

Like an ice cold bucket of water dropping over your head, you remembered every detail of what had happened overnight. Your skin relived the feeling of hands and fingertips and oh god, tongue dragging all across you, branded into your memory like a burn. It was the best nights sleep you had gotten in a long time, and the bed was so warm and soft and smelling like sin that you struggled to even lift your head from the pillow to check the time.

Mid morning.

You hadn’t slept in this long for a while, and you knew the reason why. Head slightly pounding from too much alcohol and adrenaline, you crawled out of bed, washing the remnants of last nights makeup from your face and pulling on your crumpled dress and stockings that had been haphazardly flung over the furniture. Your heart lurched a little when you freshened up in the bathroom and noticed your toothbrush still in the holder on the sink, right next to his.

You could hear cluttering downstairs and followed the noise, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, unable to stop the small smile that the sight gave you. He had evidently sent Mary on an errand, something far away so he could make you both breakfast in peace, away from prying eyes. He looked so boyish, so domestic, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, nimble fingers turning the bacon on the pan, his hair mussed from sex and sleep. It made you feel like you had swallowed a match. Your whole body alight from seeing him so gentle and vulnerable, so bare for just you to see.

Thomas Shelby whisking eggs and squeezing oranges, barefoot in his own kitchen, the sight rarer than a unicorn, and you were the only person who ever got close enough.

“Hi.” It left your mouth awkwardly and rolled off your tongue like an ice cube.

“Morning.” He turned and smiled, his lazy eyes trawling the length of your body. You hadn’t noticed it, but he felt a flicker of hurt that you were in your own clothes, a part of him wanting and hoping that you would be in one of his shirts, something that he loved much more than he could comprehend. He shook his head, willing the thoughts away. “It’ll be done soon. I think I’ve burnt the toast though, and probably added too much salt to the eggs.”

You smiled thinly, the light not reaching your eyes. This was all too much, all too soon. He was here and he was beautiful and you were right at the frontline, ready to get your heart broken all over again.“Last night,” You cleared your throat, as though the words were lodged deep inside. “It was a mistake.”

He didn’t blink, cool stare focused on the meal he was preparing, long fingers methodically slicing and dicing, as though your words didn’t make his heart thump against his rib cage. He didn’t like it, not one bit, the way that it sounded as though you regretted the time you had spent together. He never wanted you to feel like that, like the intimacy you had shared was something crude, as though you were a one night stand of a drunken fuck at a bar, this was so much more than that. This was love.

But Tommy liked holding his cards to his chest, and it was much easier to tease you then tell the truth.

“It didn’t feel like a mistake. You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

You scoffed, hating his cockiness yet knowing that he was obviously right. “Don’t be a twat, Tommy.”

The ghost of a smile on his face, if you had blinked you might have missed it, but you were always the best person at reading him - the only person he had let close enough to see him, flaws and all. He always liked when you bickered with him, his little firecracker. He didn’t tolerate just anyone speaking to him the way you did, but he would let you get away with bloody murder and he couldn’t deny that it didn’t bring a flush to his cheeks when you got particularly feisty.

You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off, his hands full with cutlery and plates filled with slap up breakfast foods, and you couldn’t deny that your mouth was watering.

“Eat first. We’ll talk later.”

You let out a sound halfway between a huff and a groan but caved in, clambering into the seat he had pulled open for you and piling your fork high. He watched you with a smile, the way you looked so young and pretty and angelic in the morning light, no makeup on and eyes still drowsy with sleep, like some kind of Renaissance painting he wanted to hang above his fireplace and stare at whenever things got rough.

He filled the silence with small talk, noting the weather and a story about one of John’s kids hiding a puppy in her room for almost a week without anyone noticing. You listened as best as you could, but you were distracted by the palomino mare you could see grazing in the fields behind his house, and something was prickling at your skin like brambles.

You cleared your throat, acting as nonchalant as you could muster. “Emma tells me that May Carlton is training your new mare.” Your knife sliced through your yolk, rich butter yellow bleeding across your plate. You tried to keep your voice steady, but you could feel the thickness in your throat as you remembered how it hurt like a bullet wound when your best friend had told you of his new associate. “I hear she is quite beautiful.”

“Yes, I suppose she is.” He murmured, cutting the edge of fat from his bacon. “But she’s nothing compared to you.”

You tried to pretend that his words didn’t make you swoon, and he tried to hide how much he loved it when you got jealous, something about the fire in your eyes making him want to push you up against a wall and kiss you till you couldn’t talk.

He paused, a coy smile on his lips. “Have you been keeping tabs on me?”

You scoffed. “Well, it’s only fair. What with all those Blinders following me. Can’t even go to the bloody shops without one watching me.”

So you had noticed. He had half been expecting a blazing call where you yelled at him for having men watch over you, and it had left a hole of disappointment in his gut when it never came.

“You know I would never let you be unprotected.”

“I know.”

Your eyes met, a wave of warm affection washed over the both of you, but you pulled your gaze back quickly, focusing your attention anywhere else.

“You should come and watch her.”

You froze, wondering if Tommy had just invited you to spend the day with May Carlton, you were sure that would be one evening that would end in blood and tears.

“The mare.” He said, picking up at your uncomfortableness and biting back a smile. “We’ve called her ‘Wicked Gypsy’, and she is brilliant. I reckon she could win the whole bloody thing.”

You liked how passionate he got when he talked about horses. Liked the way that he seemed to light up like a child, despite all the finery and bravado, you liked knowing that the little boy inside of him was still there, hidden deep, deep down, but still there. You were too busy being captivated by him that it took you a moment to realise that he had asked you to join him at the races.

You wanted nothing more, you truly wanted nothing more than to be his girl again. Cradled under his arm, dressed in lace and fur, his lips pressed to the heat of your throat, sweet little words whispered in your ear, a hand tight and possessive around your waist - but it just wasn’t that easy.

You sighed, crossing your cutlery. “Tom. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I want you there. I need my good luck charm.”

“Tommy, after everything. I don’t think we should.”

Firmer now, he looks at you, emphasising his point.“I need you there. When she wins, I need my best girl to be right by my side.”

He was so slippery. So sickly sweet that you could drown in him, struggle to move in the molasses that dripped from his tongue. He was dangerous, carnal fire and sin, but he wasn’t lying, he needed you, really fucking needed you.

You exhaled, thinking things through, and massaging the migraine brewing in your temples. He could see you trying to think of an excuse, another lie about how you’re bad for each other, but he got there first, not wanting to hear it.

“I’ll have a car pick you up on Friday.” He turned his hands so his palms were facing the ceiling, eyebrows raised playfully, “Or... maybe you can stay here the night. You know you’re welcome.”

Always so bloody charming. But you can’t stop the tsunami of thoughts, the mistakes of the past. “What is this, Tommy? What are we doing?”

“I fucked up. I never should have let you go.”

“But you did. And - I don’t want to get hurt all over again.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“You always do.”

You words stung him worse than if you had slapped him across the face, and he had to take a moment to swallow the sour taste that had been swimming across his tongue. He reached his hands out, clasping them with yours, so large and warm and safe, and he spoke with intensity.

“Just - Come with me, Friday. Please. I can’t do this without you.”

Friday. Suddenly it was no longer about slipping up or falling back in love and wondering what your friends might think when you told them, it was about something else that you needed to tell him.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? Why not?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Leaving? Leaving where?” His tone was one of disbelief, his eyes sizing you up, wondering if this was some kind of elaborate excuse.

You sighed, taking your hands away from under his, noticing the lack of warmth immediately. “To Oxford. Peggy transferred me to the company over there.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because I asked her to.”

“You did what?”

You could see him thinking, wondering how none of his boys had found out this priceless piece of information that makes him want to throw his expensive fucking china at the wall.

“I did it all through work. Emma’s the only one who knew. I’m getting the train Wednesday night.”

He stood up so quickly his chair squealed across the wood floor, his mouth agape. “So what? You’re just going to leave?”

“There’s nothing here for me.”

He pointed one finger at you, scolding you like a child. “Don’t say that.”

You narrowed your eyes, shaking your head. “It’s true isn’t it? Why should I waste more time on this stupid cat and mouse game?”

“Is that all this is to you? A game?”

“You left me. For three months I was completely alone! What happens when something comes up, huh? How do I know that you won’t leave me all over again?” It was hard to keep the emotion from your voice, hard not to show just how badly the impact of those three months had been. “We need this! Some...some fucking space. Maybe being a few cities away will be good.”

It was a lie. Nothing sounded worse, but you had to say your piece because god knows you can’t keep holding everything in.

His voice was frayed, split like the hairs in an old rope. “Don’t. Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want from you.”

His words and his actions never lined up, and it made your blood boil. All of the anger you had turned into tears had remoulded into red hot rage, and you slammed your hands down on his expensive counter tops, flesh on marble ringing around the kitchen. “So then why did you let me go? Why did you tell me to leave?”

“Because I thought that was best for you!”

“You aren’t the one who gets to decide that!”

“Everything I do. Everything I fucking do - is to protect you.”

“Don’t say that. Protecting me isn’t making me leave, and then not speaking to me for three fucking months.”

You could see the click in his jaw, the vein in his throat throbbing. “You knew what you signed up for when you met me.”

“No, actually, I don’t think I did.”

It was true. You expected late nights, days of no contact, blood staining your bathroom counter and men watching your every move. You expected fights and make ups, going to the races in your finery and then walking down the shit filled streets of Small Heath, but you never expected that he would just leave you the way he did.

He was breathless, trying to control the rise and fall of his chest and the way that his fingers clenched. He never thought that you would leave, he had some fucked up feeling that you would always come back to him, that the two of you would always end up on the same ship, drifting along the same ocean. It was maddening. He had tasted you once again, had you under him, his girl reduced to putty in his hands. It had all made sense, the night seemed to be sweeter and the stars a little brighter and his lungs a little looser when you were next to him. It had all felt so right, and now you were going to leave.

He put it down to exasperation at not being in control anymore, the fact that he was watching you slip between his fingers once again like grains of sand, and so he said the worst thing he thought of, something that he knew would rip through you like a shot to the heart.

“Well at least I got one last fuck eh? That was all you were really any good for anyway.”

He could hear it immediately, the sound of the bullet leaving the gun, or perhaps that’s your heart shattering in two. He regretted it, he regretted it so badly that he wished he could pull the words back down his throat and swallow them like they were poison.

Your eyes watered but you didn’t let him see you cry. Your mouth opened and then closed not wanting to waste your breath on a reply, not wanting to hurt him the way he’d hurt you. You didn’t bother with a reply, not trusting yourself enough to talk, only wanting to be alone to like your wounds in peace. So you turned and left, last nights heels echoing through the hallway, the sound of the front door creaking open and slamming shut, silence falling once again.

Tommy pushed the plates off the table.

—————————————————————————-

Wednesday night and you were listening to your favourite record, something to distract you from the suitcase you were packing. Since the fight you hadn’t heard from Tommy, the first thing you’d packed had been your phone, pulling it off the wall as soon as you got home, not wanting to be on edge waiting for his call.

You didn’t allow yourself the time to wallow, refused to let yourself be beaten up by the words he had said, the ones that hung around your head like dead files. You hated that you let him speak to you that way, and you also hated that you missed him with every bone in your body.

Lilac, sapphire and emerald green. You threw your clothes together, watching the colours fade into a blur. You hadn’t packed anything he had given you, but you didn’t want to throw them out either and so they sat in a lonely purgatory in your wardrobe; a little gift to the next tenant.

You knew who was there the second the doorbell rang. Well, rang three times. The sound so shrill and violent that you tipped your head back in frustration. You considered leaving him outside in the summer rain, but soon the rings were switched with incessant knocking, your door surely about to break from the weight of his fists.

“Fucking hell.” You seethed, dropping your shoes onto the floor and stepping over the piles of toiletries stacked in the hallway. “Fuck you, Tom.”

You wanted to say those three words to him as soon as you opened the door, hoping your eyes reflected the anger bubbling inside of you, but he cut you off with a sigh of relief.

“Thank fuck you’re still here.”

“Not for long.”

You tried to shut the door, you really did, but he pushed past and into your flat with little effort.

“Get out, Tom. Now.”

He spun round to face you, and you finally got a good look at him. He looked rough, frazzled almost. His hair messy and his shirt ruffled and his eyes were mostly white, frantically watching your face.

“I fucked up. I fucked everything up.”

“You came all this way just to tell me that?”

“I should have followed you sooner. I should have followed you the second you walked through that door.”

You quirked an eyebrow in challenge. “Which time?”

He spread his hands out, biting down on his tongue. “Don’t go. Don’t leave.”

You sighed, kicking a stray shampoo bottle with your feet, something to fill the emptiness that surrounded you. “I’ve made up my mind.”

He moved one step closer and you moved one step back. “Is this what you really want?”

“We can’t always get what we want.”

“That’s bullshit.”

You threw your hands up in despair. “I’m not doing this with you now, Tommy. My train leaves in an hour and I have my first day tomorrow and I don’t want to fuck it all up.”

“If it’s what you really want, then you should go. But don’t leave if it’s all because of me.”

You scoffed. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself.”

“And I’m not going to let you go without telling you that I love you. I really fucking love you.”

“Tommy.” It’s a warning. It’s a threat. But it hangs between you both, lingering in the air like smoke.

“I know you love me too. I know you do. I also know that I’m a massive twat who fucked everything up, but I’m not letting you get away, not again.”

You're exasperated. His words like honey, but you’re scared that that’s all they are, and you’re more scared that they might be so much more. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

“Because I’m telling the truth. I don’t care about anything. Nothing matters to me more than you. I don’t care if Sabini has men outside my house every fucking night, you’re only safe with me, and I can only do this with you by my side.”

“Talk is cheap.”

“If I have to spend every day proving how much you mean to me then I will. I can’t - I can’t be without you.”

He was so close to you. Your noses almost touching, the hair on your arms and your spine sticking up, something electric about him. You want to hate him but you can’t. Not when he’s standing in your dimly lit hallway, looking dishevelled and beautiful and dare you say, broken. The edge of his jawline caught the light, shimmering like a jewel, and the pools in his eyes were so sincere and so deeply blue that you wanted to fall right into them.

Were you going to do this? Were you going to let him in again? You thought of everything - rain splattered kisses, dancing under the pale moonlight, sour whisky in the corner of his office. You thought of all of the chaos, all of the blood, all of the family arguments and shouting that echoed around his manor. You thought of all the tears you had shed, all the times your throat had been raw and your heart shattered into pieces. You thought of strawberry fields and his hand in yours, laughing with his brothers until you couldn’t breathe, the way that he felt and smelt and spoke like home.

It had been bad, but it was also the best thing you had ever been a part of.

You sighed loudly, clicking your tongue, meeting him somewhere in the middle. “Fuck. I’m never going to get my deposit back.”

His whole body trembled, relief coming from every pore, and he made a vow to go to Church with Pol on Sunday and thank whoever was listening for getting you back. “Well you’re moving in with me so there’s nothing to worry about.”

You rolled your eyes, his large hands wrapping around your jaw, making you look at him. He smelt like woodsmoke and peppermint, like a million bad decisions and the tang of a smoking barrel. It took everything in you to not buckle at the knees and let him carry you like a child.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He cradled your face, hoping his words came off as strongly out loud as they did in his head. He’s not going to fuck up again, but even he can’t stop his brain from short circuiting at the sight of you, so pretty with your doe eyes and raspberry lips, the skin on your throat just begging for the tug of his teeth.

You buried your head in his chest when he pulled you close, your words muffled through the cotton of his shirt. “If you ever speak to me like that again I’ll rip your fucking balls off.”

A soft smile, one that washes over him like warm candlelight. “I know.”

He’s not letting you go, not again. You’re a fucking part of him, like the blood that runs through his veins and the steady thump of his chest, you’re a part of his body, the reason why he can breathe and run and love. You’re the thing that stops the tremor in his hands, the thing that makes him so unshakeable, so tough and in control.

He had something to fight for.

And only knowing that you’re by his side, safe and warm and pressed into the crook of his body, does he finally allow himself to exhale.

#tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby oneshot #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders oneshot #orion writes

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totallyawr1t3r · 2 years

Text

Ima just talk about My Oc's here since I technically can

Into The Shadows Heathers Au, Who would be who:

Dan Blur- Heather Chandler

Haru Shimo- Heather Duke

Emma Yamada- Heather Mcnamara

Red Wing- Veronica Sawyer

Luke Lemon- Jason Dean aka ‘J.D.’

Jessica Dawnoak- Martha Dunnstock

Fox- Ram Sweeney

Luca Wellborn- Kurt Kelly

Will I explain why? No. But I do have two arting of Haru and Emma in this Au

Random Writings from a Somewhat Modern Au of them:

Jason sighed and turned towards the door. "Can you please stop? It's getting really old now." The sadness was clear in his tone. Jasmine and Jojo looked at him with a look of pity as he marched out of the classroom before giving a short glare to the two younger kids.

"Tch. You two really need to stop hanging out with that Ghost Freak." Was all Jojo said before following after Jason as Jasmine nodded and joined him.

J.C. sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, casting a sad glance over to Creed. "You really are dead, huh?" The room went silent after that with Creed just staring at the door, feeling her non-beating heart Shatter. U's face Morphed into a scowl, "Why don't they believe us? I DON'T EVEN KNOW THE GHOST FREAK!" She stomped her foot onto the ground, baring her teeth and clenching her fists, almost ready to punch something.

Quiet Sniffling echoed throughout the room and U turned over to the Ghost. Creed turned her head down, steam rising from her face. Crying always stung now after dying, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't talk to anyone besides J.C. and U and while she was Grateful for them two, She missed her older brother dearly. "Creed…" U whispered, trying to place a comforting hand onto her shoulder but it just phased through it. This caused the cries to get a bit louder. "G-God..! I h-hate being dead..!" She cried out, trying to wipe away the ghostly tears. "W-Why was I-I so stupid..? If I h-had been s-smarter, I w-would still be here…!" Honestly it was disheartening to see Creed like this. She was always such a happy girl and then that Accident happened and ruined everything.

"Don't say that." J.C. shoved his hands into his pockets. "Sure you weren't the smartest but no one saw it coming. You can't blame yourself for dying, Creed." He tried to comfort her, key word; Tried. He wasn't the best with others' messy emotions or showing his own but sometimes he tried. But Creed only glared at him, something unnormal for her. "I stood in the fucking road, J.C. OF COURSE CARS ARE GONNA DRIVE ON IT!" She barked, pulling at her hair. "JASON TOLD ME TO GET OUT OF THE ROAD BUT DID I LISTEN? NO I DIDN'T! WHY WOULD I? I WAS STUPID! STUPID, STUPID, STUPID!"

U rolled her eyes playfully, trying to lighten the grim mood. "Easy there Creed, if you keep shouting like that I'm sure everyone else will start to hear you."

_______________________________________

Phoenix clenched her fists before swinging her head towards Wrath. "COULD YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!" She shouted at him, causing him to giggle more. But before she could shout at him more, The Teacher cleared his throat. "Miss Coleman. This is the second time you felt the need to yell at this.. 'Ghost'." He put air quotes around Ghost, No one seemed to believe her.

“Sorry..” She mumbled, “He’s a pain.” Phoenix tried to explain, knowing it wouldn’t matter. Reo rolled his eyes before turning back to the board, a few classmates giggled at the outburst as she groaned and laid her head onto the desk.

But once Class was finally over, she quickly started to pack up her things. Getting called ‘Ghost Freak’ a few times as she walked out of the classroom. She sent a small glare at Wrath as she stormed off to the bathrooms, feeling like skipping Math class today.

_______________________________________

Haru slowly opened her eyes, her vision blurry as she tried to adjust her eyes to the dark. She slowly sat up and realized she was in the hospital again. Confusion filled her head, she didn’t know when she got here.

A few minutes later, something felt like it was crawling on her skin, which caused her to jerk her head towards it.

A dark shadow covered most of her low arm, tickling it a bit. She stared at it for a few more minutes before the shadow had grown bright red eyes. Her eyes widened as she opened her mouth to scream for help until another shadow forcefully covered her mouth, causing the scream to turn muffled.

The shadow with bright red eyes let out a low chuckle, showing off it’s sharp set of teeth. Haru trembled unnaturally, and shut her eyes tightly as it continued to crawl up her arm.

“No need to be scared.” It sang,

_______________________________________

Just a little Drabble of a inverted Yandere Anna/Emma for Haruka/Haru

“Awwwww~ You’re lucky I even thought about dating you~.” Anna purred, digging her fingers uncomfortably into Haruka’s cheeks as she squirmed underneath her gaze. Her sickening sweet smile sent shivers down Haruka’s spine. “You’re so fucking ugly that I shouldn’t even be anywhere next you, but since I’m so nice, I take pity and let you call me your stupid ‘friend’.” She spat out, all sweetness leaving her tone as she yanked Haruka closer to her. “So what gave you the right to make me feel this way after you wanted it for so long, just to move onto some other stupid bitch?”

Haruka shook as a few tears slipped down her cheeks, “An-Anna, I-” But was immediately silenced by a swift slap to the face.

“I didn’t say you could talk.”

_______________________________________

Something for A Yandere Olivia and Aayliyah for Phoenix thing:

Olivia threw the small glass ball at the door at the sight. Phoenix was kissing some random nobody! And it looked like She enjoyed it! She felt jealousy pang through her heart, a murderous feeling sinking it. Which was a bit odd, She has never wanted to kill someone before but this girl and that kiss made her feel off. "GODDAMNIT!" She cried, hugging Phoenix's old leather jacket closer as she heard the door creak open. "Olivia? You okay?" Aaliyah's soft voice sang through her ears, her head poking through the doorway. The glass ball rolled back over to the bed and The angel put the pieces together. "Oh."

She stepped into the room, making sure to close the door again, and made her way over to Olivia while picking up the small glass ball. "What did Phoenix do this time?" She jokingly asked The Demon while taking a seat on the creaky broken old bed. But soon noticed the tears slipping from her eyes, "Olivia?"

Olivia tried to speak but could only sob, so she pointed at the ball. Aaliyah hesitantly looked through the ball to see what Phoenix could have done to make her cry. She didn't get it at first, It was just Phoenix hanging out with some girl again. But looking closer, She could see a faint blush on Phoenix's cheeks and a few minutes later Phoenix kissed the girl again.

“Oh.”

Aaliyah stared at the ball, unable to take her eyes off of it. A weird feeling built up inside her, it made her feel dirty. She finally glanced back at Olivia, letting the ball fall back onto the floor, cringing a bit once it hit the floor. “I’m sorry.” Was all she could mutter out.

She has felt this feeling before, when she first saw Olivia and Phoenix together but slowly got over it once actually talking to the demon.

“I..I thought she loved me..!” Olivia wailed, “S-She said she only loved..me! That I was her only one..!” She continued to cry out as Aaliyah held her close. Rubbing circles on her back, whispering soothing words into her ear as she poured her heart out.

“Shh..It’s okay..” She whispered, holding her closer.

But Olivia shook her head, “But..But it’s Not..!”

Before Aaliyah could say anything else, a familiar cold tone walked into the room. “What’s all this noise about?” Satan asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced over to Olivia, who was still crying, and Aaliyah giving him a nervous smile.

Satan noticed the glass ball on the floor, and rolled his eyes. “Crying over Phoenix? Really?” He sighed as he went to go pick it up. “What is she even doing?” He stared into it, but didn’t notice anything too off putting.

Phoenix was just hanging with a random stranger. Why would Olivia cry over that? But looking closer, he noticed the light blush on Phoenix’s cheek. He could see why now.

_______________________________________

Old Into The Shadows Idea that has been scrapped:

What this Idea basically was:

The Haru and Red shown through most of the series aren’t the real owners of their bodies. They were made after L’s and Axel’s souls were placed inside of them, leaving the original Haru, and Red in this void. Forced to watch the body thieves.

_______________________________________

Haru gasped as she gripped onto her hoodie tightly, coughing out what seemed to be black and blue liquid.

Luke rushed over to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder as he kneeled down in front of her. “Hey- Hey. You okay?” He asked, even knowing that was a stupid question. Of course she wasn’t fine. She was coughing out weird liquid, that shouldn’t normally happen.

“Breathe, Haru..”

But instead of doing as told, She roughly pushed him away causing him to hit the cobblestone ground. While it didn’t hurt that much, it did startle him. “What the hell-”

“Stay the fuck away from me.”

Haru stared at the ground, wiping away the unusual liquid from her mouth as she slowly stood up. She trembled as she slowly lifted her head up, sending an uncharacteristic cold glare at the older boy.

"Haru, Wha-"

He couldn't even finish.

Haru had bolted straight out the Cave's entrance, heading to who knows where. Luke pushed himself up, chasing after her. "HARU!" He shouted, but it fell deaf to her ears. He didn't understand what happened.

Thousands of different thoughts raced through her head. She was finally free. She didn’t understand how, but she was and she wasn’t going to waste a single moment of freedom.

Panting hard as she raced through the woods, She couldn’t stop running until she was far from that boy. He was friends with that body thief, he would surely force her back into the sickening void. She refused to go back after so many goddamn years of watching from the sidelines.

When it was her body.

Over with Emma, and Dan.

It turns out that they were kinda having the same problem.

Red crashed onto the floor for a few minutes and as Emma tried to check on him, He started to lash out. Saying a few death Threats, and tried to throw a few punches to get her away. One of the punches did end up hitting Emma square in the face and knocked her back a few.

Dan immediately jumped in, shouting, “What the hell, Red!?” Sending a quick glare at the red-haired boy before checking up on Emma.

Her nose had started to bleed as a bruise started to form. Touching it made her hiss in pain, “Fuck..!”

Looking at the two in pure disgust and hatred, he ran out of Pit’s library, ignoring the calls of his so-called ‘friends’.

They weren’t his friends. No, They were that stupid Body thief’s friends.

Before he even knew it, He was lost in the woods. But it was better than hanging around with those two. He had stopped running a bit ago once he was far enough, and glanced down at his hand.

It was trembling.

He slowly brought it up to his face, tears slipped down his cheeks as he started to smile.

He was finally free.

But his celebration was cut short. A small twig was snapped in half alerting someone was close by, as He immediately went on guard. Glaring at a nearby bush, “Show yourself.” He growled.

A little floof of Black hair popped out of the bush, causing his blood to run cold. He forgot about the other two. He took a step back, as Haru stood up, slouching a bit. But something was different from how she looked normally.

She looked scared of him. Why?

But before they could say anything to each other, a disgusting familiar voice called out, “HARU!” Luke ran through the woods.

_______________________________________

Sitting down on the couch, Red glanced over to Haru, who played with her hands as the others talked outside of the room.

He knew she noticed him staring, but refused to make eye contact or say anything about it.

After a few more minutes of silence, He leaned forward as he turned his gaze to the floor instead. “So…” He started, causing the other to jump in her seat. “You’re not really Haru are you?” He asked.

She took great offense to that, whipping her head over to him as she narrowed her eyes. “I’m not really Haru!?” She snapped, her voice rising. “I’M THE REAL ONE! NOT THAT OTHER ONE!” She gripped her teeth before looking back at her hands. “It’s not fair...It’s my body yet she twisted what I wanted and got to live the life I wanted…”

Red’s eyes widened in surprise by the outburst. So, She was like him. Her body was taken by a body thief too. What a surprise.

_______________________________________

Seeing the hurt look on Red’s face honestly broke Haru’s heart. “I thought we were having fun, You even said so.”

Looking down at him, She sighed softly. “We were but they already took so much of our lives away. I can't go three feet without someone pointing out who that thing was and someone trying to kill me." She hated that. Those body thieves had taken so much of their lives away and Once they got their freedom, People seemed to want to take it away again. Lock them up in those dark icy voids waiting for their chance to escape again. Red clenched his fists tightly, letting his nails dig into his skin. "But- But Haru.." His voice cracked a bit. “We can’t give up just yet! I nearly died just so you could try and reclaim some pieces of your life!”

Taking a deep breath, She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for that but..” Giving him a sad smile, “I’m sorry. I already said Goodbye to most of my family so I’ll be fine now.” She told him. “It’s already too late for me but If You want to run still, I’ll help you do so.” Haru whispered softly, not wanting them to hear.

Red didn’t know what to say, This was maybe one of the first times he was at a loss of words. Behind them, Luke, Emma and Dan couldn’t help but feel slight guilt. But that wouldn’t stop them from bringing their friends back, H.S. and R.W. would be fine wherever they would end up again.

Gently placing a hand on his forehead, and lifting up his red bangs, She planted a soft kiss on it. “I’m sorry that your sacrifice will go to waste, I truly am but it’s for the best. But I think it’s best for you to run now before it’s too late.”

Holding back the tears, Red nodded. “I’ll come back for you.” He whispered, before taking off. Of course The three other kids had tried to chase after him but Haru had stopped them from getting too close. “The Hell!” Dan shouted as Haru just smiled, waving off in the area Red had ran to. “Why did you do that!”

Haru didn’t answer, and just turned to look at Shade. “Let’s get this over with.” She muttered, ready to be thrown back into the void. Trapped in her own body forever, Just to let someone else control it.

Shade hesitated for a moment, which was strange. He wanted to do this, Right? But shaking his head, he held onto Haru’s shoulder, gripping on tightly so She wouldn’t run away. Holding The Shadow Soul in one hand, He took in a deep breath before placing it back into Haru. She shut her eyes tightly, pain now filling her chest. Oh how she hated it. But before she could say much, Blue liquid dripped from her mouth before she coughed it up, a few cornflower petals mixed into it. She could feel herself slipping as the void took her back, So the body thief could roam once again. And with that, The Original Haru was gone again as the body dropped to the floor with a Thump.

While Red watched in the background, tightly gripping onto his bag. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he turned his back towards them. He will save Haru again, No matter what.

_______________________________________

A little Yandere Harem thing I wrote awhile back for Haru:

Tw For: Drugging

“LET GO!” Haru cried, kicking and screaming in Luke’s tight grip. “I SAID LET GO GODDAMNIT!”

Luke bit his lip, trying to whisper soothing words into her ear. “Shhh...Please calm down...We’re only doing this for your own good..” His grip tightened.

Haru rapidly shook her head, “No, NO! YOU ONLY WANT ME TO BE A MINDLESS DOLL FOR YOUR STUPID PLAYTIME!” She shouted, baring her teeth as her eyes narrowed at Red. “I WON’T LET YOU WIN! NO! I NEVER LET ANYONE ELSE WIN BEFORE, AND I CERTAINLY WON’T LET YOU GUYS WIN!” She spat out, too much venom dripping from her tone for their liking.

And before she could scream and shout anymore, Luke grabbed Haru’s jaw tightly, as Red kneeled down in front of her, holding a pink heart-shaped pill.

“Open, Angel.” He demanded, his voice sickeningly sweet as he ignored Haru’s shouts and cries. But she didn’t get much of a choice, Luke forced her mouth open enough for Red to pop it in. Haru had tried to spit it out but Red forced water down her throat, causing her to nearly choke.

Luke finally let go of her as Haru coughed and gagged up some of the water, eventually calming down as the world seemed to spin and blur.

Haru held onto her chest as her heart started to beat faster inside of her. Even skipping a beat as Red stoked her hair. “Sleep now, Tomorrow you’ll truly love us.” He whispered as Haru couldn’t force her eyes open any longer, softly hitting the ground as darkness took away her consciousness.

This was the first time in a while that Haru had truly slept peacefully.

Even when she woke up again, not caring for how long she’d been sleeping for, she felt peaceful. Finally at ease, as she woke up in a soft bed, the complete opposite of where she had fallen asleep at.

She felt a pair of strong arms around her waist, their legs tangled together with her’s. She lifted her up slightly to check out who it was.

Dan nuzzled her neck, still peacefully sleeping, and for the first time in a long while, absolutely melted in his touch. She inched closer to him, wanting to forever feel his warmth. Her heart skipped a beat, as her stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies.

She was going to close her eyes again until the door creaked open, causing her gaze to wander over to it.

Red smiled sweetly at her, and instead of being disgusted by his sight or his smile, she felt her face heat up. “Why good morning, Princess. You look like you slept well.” He greeted her, softly clapping his hands together as she nodded.

“How do you feel?”

Haru didn’t answer at first, until she finally gave him a small smile, nearly making his heart burst with joy. “Buzzing with warmth.”

They had finally won, a deep part of Haru that was locked away realized. They finally had her heart on their strings, for them to toy with, for them to do as they pleased. But right now, She didn’t care. She didn’t want this warm feeling to end.

Red’s smile grew, and he came closer. “Let’s go downstairs for breakfast then, I’m sure the others would love to see you after Dan stole you away.” He joked, glancing for a brief moment at the still sleeping boy who held onto Haru tightly.

She nodded, lightly nudging Dan awake.

This would be her new life now, It was too late for her now. Reo had failed her and now she was stuck here, feeling as if all those punishments didn’t happen.

But it’s not like she minded at the moment. She was happy and that’s all that mattered.

Now ty for Reading it, I'm so tired rn and Just want People to request them-

#yandere #oc #oc stuff #oc artwork #original character #original writing #hand drawn #female oc #male oc #oc x oc #male yandere #female yandere #yandere oc #just a bunch of random writing #old writing #enjoy plz-

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mozaikrolez · 2 years

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Send 👥 for a headcanon relating to both of our muses ／ accepting !

@kisumshi sent : 👥👥👥 for whoever inspires u (ran haitani & natsuo todoroki, takashi mitsuya & ken ryguji, izana kurokawa & yuri plisetsky, flora cloud & ryunosuke akutagawa, miu iruma & fumikage tokoyami, miu iruma & kisuke baji)

ran haitani & natsuo todoroki

yo, ran just cannot get enough of natsuo’s hands, holy shit! he loves his firm grip whenever he grips onto him & the feelings of his hands!!!! he just melts! HE MELTS OKAY!!!!

it’s the cold weather so natsuo better watch out! i headcanon ran as being a relatively warm person during the cold seasons but for some reason having notably cold hands. he’d 100% put his old hands on natsuo in places where it’d really get him. especially if he’s asleep & ran just happens to stop by, he’s rushing in his bedroom with his cold hands & placing them on his cheeks or back & he’d do it with such a nonchalant expression too, like :| :3

natsuo; “hey, what’s with those bruises on your knuckles”, ran; “these? oh, i got them from some kid. been a while since i’ve fought with my fists.”

natsuo, kiss ran’s bruises & give him some more — like yesterday!

ran would embarrass natsuo in front of his sister & then they’d probably tag team tease him together cuz they just would. natsuo out here making it too easy to make him blush!

if ran had a feeling he was about to get detained again & needed natsuo to bust him out as per usual, he’d simply send “😘” that would translate to; “soo, the cops are coming & im gonna get my ass dropped off at the police department for the ?????th time & i need help thaaaaaanks~♥︎”

ran would probably have zero respect for enji & would encourage natsuo to do rebellious things as an act of defiance. nothing too crazy as to not get him involved with the that #ganglife but with the way things are i’m sure one way or another something would happen (like a member from another gang finding out they’re together & doing some scum shit— what that is, not sure yet) & natsuo getting caught up in something — that would make ran so mad. he’d ask if natsuo would like get revenge & HOMIE….. wouldn’t it be great if they did some crazy shit together to get back at those gang members?!?!?!???!?!?!!!!???

& ran just finds natsuo so alluring when he’s mad, lmaoooooooooooo. just not words, just hearts eyes!!!

takashi mitsuya & ken ryguji

ok! okokokokokok!!!!!!! what if they got together in the current timeline, & it like…. just kinda happened???? like they both didn’t see it coming & at first didn’t know what to make of it, especially with the whole emma (& draken dead?… — we don’t subscribe to that belief here)???

best friends falling for each other is such a fun trope especially when they kinda go “yo, wtf… i love, love this guy– when did this happen?” then them realizing “hey it was bound to happen”

the mutual pining between the two while they try to figure it out would just be great. it’d start out as something small like subtle flirty comments, as a joke… then it’d keep happening & then “i don’t think it’s a joke no more” but since they know each other so well an eventual confession would be expected from either of em. it’s just a matter of when.

the constant catching the other staring fondly from afar — AAAAAAAA!

this fanart tho!!

ryunosuke akutagawa & flora cloud

i have no particular reason why i want them to interact but the sheer fact that flora would have fun painting a portrait of him – THAT’S IT!! i don’t even think they’d get along but if she sees something or someone that inspires her art she’ll start sketching them. with permission of course!

i haven’t seen too much of bungou stray dogs & it’s been years since i’ve last seen any episodes at all but from what i can tell ryuno doesn’t seem like the friendliest of ppl (to put it lightly – lol) but flora is the type of person to be like ��well you look human enough” & ignore signs that he’s not the greatest of ppl. living with a demon cat that attracts strange things to your house does things to you!

izana kurokawa & yuri plisetsky

idk exactly how these two would meet but let’s say they do, izana would find yuri to be of good company to him. from my own headcanons i kinda portray izana similarly to mikey but he’s a bit more reasonable than him, that pretty much entails that if izana finds someone amusing enough he’ll be persistent on keeping them around (he also has an odd sense of humour, one that usually has others being the butt of the joke).

izana is one for a good story, of any kind told in any medium! he’d find joy in watching yuri’s shows & probably want to talk about the story of his routines after each performance.

miu iruma & fumikage tokoyami

i haven’t written out miu’s bnha verse yet but the general idea is that she’s a quirkless second year in the support course who has made things for some hero agencies & she’s generally known as a hard person to work with because of the vulgar & crude words she says but she’s generally respected for the work she has done. because of the way she talks & having a knack for just being the absolute worst i doubt the two would get along very well but i think they’re interactions would be fairly silly.

she’s a very loud & proud person who tends to put down others in the worst way. she loves getting attention from others, especially in the form of praise but more often than not people avoid her & she has little to no friends because of this. it’d be funny if she latched onto fumi cuz she thinks he has no friends & that he’s lucky to hangout with a hottie like her in the first place.

she’d probably insult him & call him an emo or something especially with those edgy remarks he makes (i’m sorry, she’s too damn much). i’m sure he’d ignore the hell outta her & not respond after a while to which she’d start getting all teary-eyed cuz she genuinely didn’t mean it like that & just talks out of her ass as part of her tough girl persona. she’d promptly apologize & ask if they can still hangout. i can see this being a common thing happening a lot between them.

while she has created some useful things for ppl, miu has an inclination to create a handful of completely stupid things that make no sense (or at least a desire to). she’d often go into long winded tangents about her ideas to create things that allow ppl to do things while they sleep (like control thing with their mind n stuff) — comes from the idea that sleeping is a big waste of time that could be used for doing better things (an ideal future would be one where heroes fought while sleeping… this is the kind of person we’re dealing with here).

them lending each other their studded chokers, bracelets & harnesses & shopping for more.

miu: “hey! lemme say hi to dark shadow, i bet they miss me!” then she’ll proceed to give them chin rubs.

she’s easily terrified by many things but she’d invite him to a haunted house during the halloween season because she’d think he’s into that kinda thing. who knows if they’d even enjoy themselves cuz miu would either be screaming & crying loudly in his ear or running & crying.

miu would love to hear him play the bass but she’d never actually say so. how she’d show that she likes hearing him play would be her creating a bass guitar with a flame thrower attached.

miu iruma & keisuke baji

while writing stuff for miu & fumi i thought it’d be funny if her & baji met because it’d be chaotic af. she would act all tough as she usually does, especially since she would see herself as someone far superior than some street thug & because of this she’d try to roast him. i think these two would go on & on insulting each other & she’d easily get her feelings hurt because because anyone who talks back to her (even small children) gets her all frantic.

baji would honestly scare her but she’d still try to be combative towards him (please stop her, she’s insane).

if they were ever chill with each other & had the kind of friendship where they made jabs at each other here & there, miu would mod baji’s bike to the point of it being illegal to drive. will they drive it anyway? yes.

this duo lack so many ppl skills that they’d just be menaces to society.

#kisumshi #/ i got ~inspired~!!#˗ˋ *ﾟ ♦︎ ⟶ 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐜𝐞. ／ ooc.#tw long post #tw: long post #long post /

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wolferals · 4 years

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🌸EX'S AND OH'S🌸

arón piper preference

Today was your and your boyfriends anniversary! 1 year you've spent with this doofus and he had promised to take you out tonight. Your dates usually consisted of snacks, movies or sometimes dinner at a restaurant. But rarely.

You had just gotten ready and he was about to pick you up.

The beautiful red dress fit you perfectly and your long hair was flowing down your back in some soft curls. Your makeup matched the dress and you had to give yourself some credit. You looked absolutely stunning that night.

About 5 minutes later your boyfriend picked you up.

„Hey y/n." he greeted you without really looking at your appearance. You didn't think anything of it though since he barely does. Yes of course it was shit to have a boyfriend that didnt pay much attention to you but you had gotten used to it over the past months.

„Hey." you smiled and walked over to him to give him a kiss but he just pecked your lips for a second before speaking:"We're running late."

So you walked to his car and he started the engine afterwards. „Do you like my dress? I bought it for tonight." you said smiling at him.

He gave you a quick glance while driving and replied dry:"Yeah looks good."

You could feel the tears building up so you turned away from him and blinked them away, looking out the window.

„Oh by the way, I invited Emma and Arón, u dont mind right?"

Your head shot around. „What?"

Your boyfriend looked at you and said:"I figured it'd be more fun."

You were genuinely shocked. „But its our anniversary." you spoke quietly.

He shrugged his shoulders.

That was his way of telling you that he doesnt really care.

Ouch.

At the restaurant you both sat down at a table for four and you kept swallowing your pride while all you wanted to do was run out of there and cry.

„Man where are they?" your boyfriend suddenly said to you. You had only been there for 2 minutes and he was getting impatient.

„Calm down, they will be here soon." you answered and forced a smile while taking his hand in yours.

But he pulled away instantly.

„Not now. Im stressed."

You couldnt believe him. It was your 1 year anniversary and he just ignored you or treated you like shit.

„Please?" you whispered and looked at his side.

He didnt face you, he just replied:"Stop being clingy y/n."

It hurt. So fucking much.

Sometimes you really doubted if he still loved you, and right now it was proven he had stopped.

But before you could really think about it or actually start to cry, you noticed Emma and Arón walk up to the both of you.

„Hey guys!" Emma smiled and gave you a hug.

„Oh wow your dress is so beautiful!" she complimented you and then went on to greet your boyfriend.

Arón came closer, stared you up and down and then gave you a tight hug. „You look really beautiful y/n."

You smiled at him. And you meant your smile this time.

„Its so nice to see you!" Emma exclaimed and sat down opposite of you.

Your boyfriend kept looking at Emma. While she was telling the story about her last nights dream, your „beloved" boyfriend was biting his lip and you could feel him shifting in his seat.

„Wow Emma, thats so cool!" he suddenly spoke and sent her a bright smile. She had just told how she got her ear pierced last week.

Aron seemed to find it off as well because he gave you a confused look.

„You never said anything about my piercings." you spoke and looked at him.

His head turned to look at you and he replied:"Yeah but look at hers. Its fucking cool."

-„I have the exact same piercing on my left ear."

He shrugged his shoulders.

„Guys cálmese. Its fine." Emma laughed and intertwined her and Arón's fingers on the table.

You guys then ordered your food and drinks. „Can we share the calamari baby?" Emma asked Arón.

He looked at her in disgust and replied:"I hate them you know that."

But thank god your wonderful partner was there to speak up:"Ill share them with you if you want."

You rolled your eyes at him. But the only person who noticed was Arón and he sent you a sad smile.

„Yeah sure if thats okay with y/n." Emma explained.

Before you could say anything your boyfriend said:"Its my choice though, its none of her business."

You looked to your left to pretend like he wasnt there. To pretend like he didnt just say that.

Suddenly you noticed your phone's screen light up from your lap. The other didnt seem to have noticed.

You took your phone and read the message.

„Are you okay?" -Arón.

You looked up and nodded at him.

But he didnt seem to buy it.

„If you want to talk im here."

You smiled at him and tried to focus on your dinner and the fact that your best friend was here and that her boyfriend was being nice to you. Instead of your own.

The one who kept complimenting Emma and didnt care about you at all. You werent there for him.

When the waitress brought your dinner you actually forgot about his terrible behavior for once. You started eating your delicious pasta and listened to the others talking.

At some point it was mostly Emma and your boyfriend having a nice conversation while Arón and you just sat there feeling super left out.

You could see how annoyed he was from his looks only.

He kept giving you these glances as you continued eating your pasta, sometimes he raised his eyebrow making you laugh slightly.

The others didnt notice how you two were communicating with your eyes.

You took a sip of your water and saw how Arón was grinning at you. You smiled back and then took your phone to distract yourself from his looks.

If you were completely honest, you hadnt gotten any affection in a while and just a cute guy looking at you made you feel better. Yes, he was taken. Yes, so were you. But he was attractive it was obvious.

Emma laughed at almost every of your boyfriend‘s jokes and you knew she didnt do this because he was funny, because he really wasnt.

Arón rolled his eyes at her and then gave you one more look.

And if you werent totally insane, picturing things, he scanned your upper body and bit his lip slightly.

You just ignored it but if you were being honest, it was kind of hot.

You then listened to Emma talk and subconsciously took another bite of your pasta and kept the spoon in your mouth. Without realizing you were licking on the spoon in your mouth and focused on her story.

You then did realize what was going on when a foot touched your own softly.

It had to be Arón. He was also giving you this horny ass look again.

Yes, he did kind of turn you on but you were both in a relationship. But your boyfriend was an asshole who didnt care about you anymore.

So you decided to play Aróns little game. You slipped out of your heel and slowly made your way up his leg. You didnt plan on going too far but you wanted to play with him a little bit.

He grinned at you and supported his head with his hand on the table while looking around.

He then coughed when your toes hit his knee.

Apparently this boy was sensitive.

You smiled to yourself and lowered your foot again.

Arón took a deep breath and grinned at you.

„Whats so funny?“ Emma suddenly spoke and looked between the both of you.

„Uhm.“ you started but Arón interrupted you.

„This guy over there embarrassed himself a little bit.“

They both looked around and then nodded.

„Anyway about this girl..“ Emma continued and your boyfriend only focused on her again.

Arón then excused himself to go outside to smoke and you decided to breathe some fresh air so you both walked outside.

„Jesus.“ he cursed and sat down on the stairs in front of the restaurant.

„Yeah right. They‘re so focused on themselves.“ you shook your head and sat down next to him.

He lit his cigarette and let the smoke emit into the air.

„I know... But now we can talk alone you know?“ he laughed and gave you a quick look.

„You want?“ he suddenly spoke and wanted to hand you his cigarette but you only shook your head.

„You know, thats good. I wish i could get away from it.“ he looked down to the ground and then back at you.

„Maybe you really have to start.“

He nodded and took a puff.

„Yeah i know.“

You smiled at him, then took the cigarette from his fingers and threw it to the ground to put it out.

„Hey!“ he laughed and stared down at the smushed piece of cigarette.

„You said you wanted to stop. You‘re gonna stop right now.“ you cockily said and ran your fingers through your hair.

Arón looked you deep in the eyes and then replied:“Alright, thank you. I dont know how I’d survive without you.“

You both started laughing.

„You‘re very welcome.“ you slightly bit your lip and looked up into the warm starry night.

„Maybe its good they‘re getting along so well. That way we can be alone.“

You didnt know what to say.

But you agreed internally.

„Yeah.“

He smiled and then placed his hand on your thigh.

It was covered by your dress so you didnt mind at all.

„Y/n, ever thought about how nice it is to fuck under the stars?“

You bursted into laughter and he smiled as well.

„No i havent.“

Arón grinned and eventually spoke up:“Too bad, id show you if your asshole boyfriend wasnt checking out my girlfriend all the time. But since she apparently feels the same, why dont we get out of here?“

You couldnt really reply to that.

„You know, maybe one day when all this shit is over.“

He nodded.

„One day hm? Promise?“ arón smiled softly.

You nodded at him and spoke:“Yeah one day.“

🌹🖤

part 2

#elite #aronpiper #cute #preference #omander #aronxreader #ander #preferences #smut

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pettybkang · 5 years

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LOVE SHOT

Group: EXO.

Pairing: Y/N + Baekhyun.

Genre: Strip Club!AU.

Word count: 10k.

Description: “Privé is a very exclusive, VIP only, extremely expensive and classy strip club in New York. The owner, Byun Baekhyun, happens to be one of the millionaires living in the city that never sleeps. “

Thinking back this wasn’t the greatest way to use her degree in Advertising and Marketing. This wasn’t a way to use her degree at all, to be honest. During her first year of college, Y/N started working for Privé and hasn’t left since. She started as an assistant to the previous barman and now takes care of all things bar related. She orders the liquor, takes care of the menu and makes sure everyone’s drinks are always well done and perfect before going to the members - or clients - tables.

Privé is a very exclusive, VIP only, extremely expensive and classy strip club in New York. The owner, Byun Baekhyun, happens to be one of the millionaires living in the city that never sleeps. He owns several businesses, but his favorite and first will forever be the strip club.

The club opens at ten but Y/N has to be there at six to check if everything is in order. They have a company coming today and they called in advance for a few bottles of Whiskey and Champagne. Apparently, someone had been promoted. It happens often, presidents, CEOs, and directors often take their newly promoted friends to the club for some drinks and some fun and tonight couldn’t be any different. But of course, she was a bottle of Whiskey short. And late.

Her pink hair was tied up in a messy bun while she ran down the streets of New York to the place they usually order their liquor from. She was happy she had decided on wearing boots that has almost no heels that day, her clothes all black except her brown coat that happened to be pretty much flying behind her. Coming back from the supplier was even worse since she had to run and be careful not to drop the two bottles of U$3,000 Whiskey that she was holding.

Lay was at the door when she arrived, opening it for her without a work, giving the girl a smile. “You’re an angel,” she said as she was getting in, taking a step back then. “Is he here already?” she bit down on her lower lip, assuming the security guard knew who she was talking about.

“Mr. Byun?” the man asked and the woman nodded, messing her hair even more. “He’s in his office I believe. He arrived a few minutes ago,” that made her nod and thank him before getting in just as fast as she had arrived.

Great. Now she would have to explain why she took the company’s card, ran eight blocks and spent six thousand dollars on Whiskey. Even though it’s something that happens often since they get some reservations a bit out of the blue, she should have been prepared for tonight. Arriving at the bar, Y/N decided that the explanation would have to wait. Everything was a mess. The woman left the two bottles on the counter, left her coat in the room the waiters had to keep their things and change and pulled her sleeves up, getting behind the counter then.

She started giving orders. Helena was in charge of organizing the tables, Greg in charge of organizing the sink, Luna was supposed to get the bottle’s right - always facing forward, how many times would she have to say that? Y/N them placed a red tray on top of the counter, filled up a glass with ice and them poured some strawberry water in it, garnishing it with some other red fruits. A bottle of regular water was also placed on the tray. “Frank! Take this to the owner’s office, will you?” she said, pointing at the tray and then moving to get other things done when she noticed that Frank had understood the order.

Soon everything was falling into place and the day just seemed like a regular Friday again. The bar was clean and organized, the stages too, the girls and guys were getting ready backstage and the bar was stocked up. Y/N checked the reservations they had for that day - a promotion celebration, a few more CEOs and some regulars. Everything should go as planned.

Byun Baekhyun. The youngest of his family. And also the richest. Managed to become a millionaire at a young age because of his fancy club and other restaurants he had around the city - all expensive and exclusive. It’s impressive how much more people pay when they hear the letters VIP. He benefits from that, being the owner of all the places the rich go to have fun.

He spends most of his time at the strip club, his first business and also favorite. The club will be turning ten years old soon and Baekhyun just can’t wait to throw the best party ever when the date comes.

Today he got to the club a bit earlier than expected. His friends had let him know they would be coming over during the night and he decided to get there a bit earlier to get things done before they arrive - what he didn’t expect was to catch his bar manager running down the street on his way to the club. He was glad she didn’t see him otherwise he would have to explain why he stared at her for at least a minute.

Baekhyun welcomed the water when it came, smiling at the decorations on his glass and dismissing the waiter. Even though he was early, Y/N had sent his drink up as usual and he couldn’t help but feel like an idiot for being happy at that. She was just doing her job and he should stop looking for heart-shaped strawberries.

Sehun would be over tonight, as usual. They’ve been friends since they were little, Baek’s club is the only one Sehun ever goes to. They usually spend the night paying little to no attention to the dancers and just drinking and talking - sometimes complaining about life as if they have any right to. Kyungsoo would also be coming tonight, they met during college and quickly developed a strong friendship. He’s the president of a huge company now and just appointed a new director - Emma, Baek had been told. He had also been told Kyungsoo knows her from college too even though Baek was sure they didn’t know anyone with that name. They would all be going to Privé to celebrate.

On top of that, it was his birthday today and Baek couldn’t be happier to celebrate it with his friends.

He spent most of the afternoon checking the orders the bar and the restaurant had made the day before and also who were the dancers scheduled for that night. Baek also had some papers to sign and some numbers to go over before opening time, so he focused on that.

At ten someone knocked on his door. It was Frank again bringing him his daily Mojito. And just like that, a sip from his drink, a smile at the thought of his bar manager and his friends coming over, Baek was ready to start the night.

The club started filling up around eleven - Privé wasn’t famous for being a place you can go during your company’s happy hour. It’s a club that you go and are expected to spend the night, drink and have fun. Some people go to a dance club and get shitfaced drunk, some people go to Privé.

The bar was getting their usual orders, so Y/N continued her job calling out drinks and getting the more important done herself. It’s not that she doesn’t trust the people working for her, but when a CEO complains that their drink had more vodka than it should she’s the one who listens so some clients she likes to take care of by herself.

“Have you seen Sehun yet?” a familiar voice asked from a stool right in front of her, making her look up while she finished cutting some ginger. It was the owner of the club, Baekhyun. Y/N smiled at him, shaking her head.

“Not really… We also haven’t sent any bottle of wine to any of the rooms yet, so I assume he isn’t here…” she said, looking back and quickly counting the bottles of wine just to be sure.

“Ah…” Baekhyun said, turning to take a look at the lounge behind him. People would usually spend the night in one of the rooms with dancers and all, but some would just drink their feelings away at the lounge, afraid they might fall for the dancers’ beauty. He looked back at Y/N and noticed she was cutting something else now. “What are you making?”

“Strawberry, ginger, lemon juice, and vodka. It’s called Oasis on the menu,” she said while shoving the strawberries and the ginger into a cocktail shaker to mix it with the vodka and the juice, closing the lid and starting to shake it, pouring in a glass that had been filled with ice when she was done. “Wanna try one?”

He made a face and shook his head. “Maybe next time,” he said, taking the last sip from his mojito and leaning forward to leave the glass by the sink, over the counter. “Can I have some water though? The same from earlier,” he added and Y/N just chuckled lightly.

She called Helena over to deliver the drink from before and moved to pour the owner some strawberry water on a glass filled with ice. He raised the glass before taking a sip, Y/N just gave him a thumbs up and moved to get other things ready, undoing her messy bun just to tie it up again.

He was about to go back to the office when he heard a familiar voice. Not as loud as all the other familiar voices at his club, but someone he’s used to having around by now. Kyungsoo was looking great, wearing all black and carrying a very expensive bag. Baekhyun couldn’t help but stare and then move quickly to wrap his arms around his friend when he called his name. “Ksoo!” he said, giving him a hug and then a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad you came! We have the perfect room for you, as always,” his big smile showing again.

Right behind him stood four more people. Two were women, but one of them he was familiar with. Irene, Ksoo’s secretary and always ready to kill a man. The other also looked like she could kill, but her stare was directed at him - she must be the new director, Emma. The other two were men, Suho and Jongdae, shareholders from Ksoo’s company. Baek said his hellos politely, taking them to the room they had reserved for his friends that night.

Baek walked had one of his arms around Kyungsoo’s shoulders, talking and drinking from his water from time to time, catching up. He asked about every single thing and Ksoo answered, a bit more quiet and reserved, but looking up and matching Baekhyun’s smile.

The room was spacious and comfortable, a few couches were spread around and had their backs against the wall while a stage covered half of the room - the middle more specifically. Some sexy pop music was playing, but the stage was still empty and so were its poles. Baek urged everyone to sit and make themselves comfortable. “I’m going to let Y/N know she can send in your drinks,” he said, giving them a smile. “But I’ll be back for you,” he winked and pointed at Ksoo, making the other blush as Baek giggled and left.

“How fast can you put seven of that strawberry Oasis whatever together?” Y/N heard while she was mixing a pinã colada, making her look up and frown for a second. There stood Byun Baekhyun again, looking stupidly beautiful and getting on her nerves. The club was full and the bar was running to get all the drinks ready and her boss wanted her to just stop everything and get seven drinks ready. Seven drinks that required time and preparation.

“Not as fast as I can get a bottle of something ready. Who’s it for?” she asked, pouring the drink she was making into its rightful glass and setting it on a tray for someone to take it.

“My friends,” he pouted, making her roll her eyes. “You know…” he started, getting her attention. “Sometimes I think you hate working for me. You’re always rolling your eyes.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head and moving to get the fruits, ginger, and alcohol she would need. “You know…” she started, giving him a smile. “Sometimes I do,” she shrugged, the smile still on her lips. “I’ll send your drinks soon. Room 7?”

Baekhyun was too busy pouting to answer her question, finishing his water and looking around. The lounge was full and the bar was really busy. Maybe he should have waited… But then again, he’s the owner of a very expensive club. He can order a drink or two or… seven without people getting angry at him.

“Baekhyun…” Y/N called while she chopped the strawberries. “Which room?” she repeated her question when she had his attention again.

“Oh, uh… Room 7,” he smiled, grabbing his glass of water again. “Send some of that water to Anna, she’ll be dancing for them soon. Gabe too,” he added before leaving his seat. Y/N made a mental note to send the water with the drinks and started working on them.

As he walked away, Baekhyun bumped into someone. It’s not really considered bumping when someone just hugs you out of nowhere so let’s call it what it is. Baekhyun was hugged by someone as he walked away. That someone being Sehun, his best friend, regular at the club and always fashionably late.

“Ugh, stop pretending you like me,” Baekhyun said as he tried to squeeze himself out of the hug, making Sehun laugh and take a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets and shrugging.

“I spend a lot of my money here… I don’t really think I’m pretending,” Sehun gave Baekhyun a smile, making the owner of the club laugh.

“Liar. You spend a lot of my money here,” Baekhyun shook his head, linking his arm with Sehun’s. “Come on, lemme take you to Kyungsoo’s party.”

“Your college friend is here?” Sehun raised his eyebrows in surprise, taking a look back at the bar. He should have ordered something before letting Baekhyun drag him around. Before they got too far he managed to lock eyes with the bar manager, Y/N waved at him and gave him a thumbs up. She would definitely be sending some wine soon.

“... And then he asked me where he should take her, you know. Emma. This girl he just promoted to director at his company. I just told him to bring her here and I would take care of everything,” Sehun didn’t pay attention to much of it, being too focused on getting himself a drink, but apparently, Baekhyun had been talking about Kyungsoo. The guy who obviously has a crush on him and his childhood friend still hasn’t noticed.

“Wait… Do you plan on crashing your friend’s party?” Sehun stopped, making Baekhyun stop since they still had their arms linked.

“It’s my birthday. I can do whatever I want. Besides… It’s my club. I can go wherever I want,” he gave Sehun a look, making the taller man smile and then laugh.

“Fine, fine… You do you I guess,” he shrugged, letting Baekhyun take him to Room 7.

Emma wasn’t nervous. She had stopped getting nervous about being around investors and people from her company years ago, but at the same time, it was a bit too exciting to be in a strip club. She had never been to Privé before - not a bit fan of spending thousands and thousands of dollars a night even though she’s got plenty - but people are constantly talking about it. The juniors from her office want to be taken to parties by the president all the time, the investors are always commenting on the drinks and some talk about the dancers when they think no one else is paying attention.

She thinks it’s funny that everyone knows Privé is a strip club but at the same time everyone pretends it’s just a club.

Kyungsoo had promised her it’s a very nice club and he wasn’t wrong at all. She felt comfortable on the couch she had settled - Emma was wearing a black dress and heels, Ksoo had joked she would finally get herself a boyfriend looking like that… He got slapped. On the shoulder. The room was nice, big and the music wasn’t too loud. While there were no performances happening, they could have conversations without having to shout.

Thinking about the performances made her look for her purse, finding it near her on the couch. Another thing Ksoo had told her: to bring a hundred dollar bills. It’s frowned upon to tip the dancers less than a hundred dollars at Privé. Some people try to tip them only fifties, but the looks they get from the dancers are no joke - and the performances are cut short. Baekhyun wants his employees to be well-paid and happy, which is the truth. The rumor is that if you don’t tip more than three hundred the dancers will sell photos of you to the nearest paparazzi they can find.

Emma caught herself in a conversation about the music industry when Baekhyun came back. Not that she knows him. He just used to be Kyungsoo’s other friend during college, also known as his crush. She has had to deal with Kyungsoo talking about him nonstop for ages now, never making a move, always too in love to notice that Baek is just being friendly. Being a businesswoman, Emma came to this strip club with three goals: 1) getting drunk with the company’s money, 2) getting Kyungsoo a man and 3) telling Baekhyun to stop being so fucking stupid.

And just as if she had called his name three times aloud in front of a mirror, Baekhyun opened the door to the room and walked in. “The drinks are on their way! I ordered you guys something incredible Y/N was making earlier…” he said with a smile, bringing Sehun in with him. “This is Sehun,” he let go of his arm and moved closer to all of them. Kyungsoo just waved at him - they have met before since they’re both Baekhyun’s friends, but only at Privé.

Emma studied Sehun with her head leaned to the side for a moment and then waved. Maybe goal number two would definitely be reached today. Suho and Jongdae seemed familiar enough with Baek to not be bothered by the owner coming in and out of the room and so did Irene - they have been on a different couch from Ksoo and Emma since they had gotten here, waiting anxiously for the performances. The president and the director were more interested in alcohol.

They had just sat down when a waiter and Y/N got in. “Hello and welcome to Privé,” the bar manager said with a smile. She had let down her hair to greet the clients- it was part of her job to greet every room before they started drinking. “I see you have Mr. Byun with you here tonight, but if there’s anything you need you can press the button on one of the tables and a waiter will come to you,” she showed them the drink icon on top of the table.

“We’ll start you off with a drink from our special menu. We hope you enjoy it. I’ll leave the presentations to the owner,” she winked at Baekhyun and chuckled. Emma started paying attention when she started talking alcohol and followed the girl’s wink to find Baekhyun pretty much dying trying to remember what was in the drink. “We hope you enjoy your night,” she smiled and then walked closer to Sehun. “Should I send your wine here, Mr. Oh?”

Sehun had a smile on his lips, turning on his sit to whisper to Y/N. “Do you want to kill Baek? How many times has he told you to call us by our names?” he said and Y/N tried to hold her laugh him.

“That’s what he gets for ordering seven drinks and flavored water out of nowhere,” she whispered back, leaning back and giving everyone a smile. The waiter had already handed everyone their drinks - Baekhyun included. “I’ll send your wine soon,” she said then and moved out of the room with the waiter right behind her.

Sipping from her drink, Emma could see Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, and Sehun very well from her side of the couch. They were almost in front of her and sitting in that exact order. Baekhyun was pretending to drink and Emma only noticed because he kept on sipping and the glass was still full, Kyungsoo was almost done with his and Sehun had barely touched his. He only did when they toasted and that was it, never again.

He would often land his hand on Kyungsoo’s thigh when they talked, which was sending signals that goal number two was almost a go. Now she needed to take care of goal number one, taking a sip from her drink. Immediately she could tell that there was something wrong with it, something that shouldn’t be there.

“Uh… What is this made of again?” she asked, raising her drink and looking at the three man in front of her.

“Strawberry, lemon juice, vodka and ginger,” Baekhyun said, counting the ingredients with his fingers, trying to repeat what Y/N had told him earlier. “Is there a problem with it? I can get Y…/N. I can get Y/N,” he said, biting on his lower lip. He would often call his bar manager by the nickname, but they had both agreed on never giving the clients that freedom.

“Oh, no, no… It’s fine,” she gave him a smile, taking another sip and trying not to make a face. The three went back to their conversation, which gave Emma the opportunity to just put her drink down and never drink from it again. Why would someone add ginger to a perfectly done drink? She would have to have a very serious talk with the bar manager once she’s drunk enough to do so.

When Sehun’s bottle of wine came, she quietly called the waiter and asked him for a bottle of champagne and soon she had something she could drink without hating on people, the world and everything.

The performances were mouth dropping, Emma would have to give them that. The dancers had their makeup, clothes - or lack of - and moves on point. The song choices were also incredible and she just couldn’t take her eyes off the stage. Both Gabe and Anna, Baekhyun’s best performers, had been chosen to dance for them that evening and they both held themselves with such grace that was close to impossible to not tip them four hundreds dollars each. At least.

She had become so interested and distracted by the performances that she didn’t notice that she had already finished a bottle of champagne. When her glass was empty, she leaned in to pour more and noticed the empty bottle. Sehun, from the other side of the table, waved at her and pressed the button on the table, pointing towards the bottle to let her know he would be getting her another one. With a smile, Emma only raised her glass and then thanked him, going back to the performance.

But something else caught her attention - the fact that Sehun wasn’t even looking at the stage. Both Sehun and Baekhyun were now talking, the tallest male had moved from Ksoo’s side to sit on Baekhyun’s other side, and they were both not interested at all in what was happening at the stage. Kyungsoo was drinking from a bottle of whiskey and had already lost his tie somewhere, Emma figured it was the one laying on Baekhyun’s lap.

The director waited for her second bottle while paying attention to the owner, his friend and the president. How Sehun and Baekhyun just discussed whether or not they should buy a private jet while both Anna and Gabe were dancing to a song that had obviously been written and composed for this moment. Maybe goal number two would fail, but she had to be sure.

She was about to stand up and pop the question, already drunk enough to do so, when a few waiters walked in with food on their hands. The performance was almost over too and she watched as Sehun stood up and placed a bunch of hundred dollar bills rolled together in front of each dancer - she could tell there was more than a thousand dollar in each roll. So maybe he had been paying attention…

Emma put her empty glass down, watching as the waiters put some plates of food down on their table. Baekhyun announced something that she didn’t really pay attention to, something related to himself and his own birthday. She couldn’t really care less, all she did was wait until everyone was eating to grab a tiny bun to herself and just shove it into her mouth while she watched Baekhyun feed Ksoo one too.

She would murder them both.

Or maybe she wouldn’t live to tell the story because her mouth was burning.

“What’s this made of again?” she asked, frowning as she looked for something to drink, trying not to look so desperate but at the same time taking some deep breaths to calm down the fire inside her mouth.

“It’s a Chinese bun… We fill it with pork ribs and some Chinese spices,” Baekhyun said, taking another one from the plate to eat it himself.

Emma tried to be chill about it, but it did sound like he was doing it on purpose. First, the ginger, now Chinese spices which everyone knows translates to pepper, pepper e more pepper. If Baekhyun wanted her out all he had to do was ask, not throw this much pepper at her.

She stood up with the excuse that she needed to go to the bathroom and pretty much ran all the way to the bar as soon as she closed the door of room 7 behind her.

Y/N was busy making yet another sex on the beach when a woman sat right in front of her by the bar. The bar manager recognized her from earlier, the one who had been promoted and Baekhyun had just decided he would crash the party because Kyungsoo was there. She was sure they were supposed to be celebrating something but the woman didn’t look very happy.

“Can I help you?” she said as she put the drink down on another tray for Hunter to take it somewhere else.

“You could help me by telling your boss that if he hates me all he has to do is tell me!” the woman said and even groaned a little, making Y/N laugh right in front of her. The face the client made wasn’t very friendly, which lead Y/N to shrug and give her a smile.

“Don’t mind him, I’m sure he didn’t mean it…” she started, the smile still on her lips. “He doesn’t know he’s an ass to people sometimes. I’d say it’s all the flavoured water he drinks but I make those myself so I’m sure it’s something else.”

The woman finally gave her a smile, shaking her head a little. “I swear…” she took a deep breath. “I’m Emma, by the way. Can I have a glass of anything that has milk in it? My mouth is burning from the ginger and all the pepper,” she said and Y/N nodded, moving to get something ready.

Soon the bar manager was back with something she called Eve. Vanilla ice cream, pineapple, pineapple juice, coconut rum, condensed milk, cream and coconut milk. “It’s the most milk I can get you,” she laughed softly, handing Emma the drink. “I’m Y/N,” she introduced herself finally watching as the director drank half of the drink in one. “And I wouldn’t have sent you drinks with ginger if I had known you had a low tolerance to spicy, I’m sorry about that.”

Emma only waved her hand, shaking her head and taking another sip of her drink. “It’s not your fault, really. It’s Baekhyun’s. He’s just jealous that I am Ksoo’s best friend now and that he has been lowered to a friend only,” Y/N could tell that Emma was drunk but she couldn’t stop listening to her complaining about Baekhyun. “I mean… First of all, he should be clever about this. Your boss, I mean. Kyungsoo is a fine rich man. Have you seen him? Of course, you have, you work here. Anyway. He has this crush on your boss since they were in college together and Baekhyun has never realized it,” she kept on saying, taking sips from her drink every now and then. Emma told Y/N everything about Kyungsoo’s crush and how Baekhyun never even gave him the chance.

“But now there’s this really hot guy in there,” Emma kept on saying. “Se… something?”

“Sehun? Oh Sehun?” Y/N asked, grabbing herself a glass of water. “Tall, large shoulders, brown hair?”

“That’s it! Sehun!” Emma continued. “He would be the perfect match for Ksoo. He’s both hot and rich. Do you think it would work out?”

“I don’t know Kyungsoo that well…” Y/N started, looking around the bar to check if she was needed or not and thankfully her people seemed to be taking care of everything just fine. “But as far as I know, Sehun is gay. At least that’s what all the performers and waiters tell me,” she shrugged.

“Yes! That’s exactly what I needed to hear!” Emma clapped, finished her drink and stood up. “This was awesome by the way,” she pointed at the empty glass. “Thanks!”

“Make sure to tip well,” Y/N winked at Emma as she left, laughing to herself. The tips she usually get from Oh Sehun himself pay her very expensive rent and sometimes there’s even money left for groceries, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask for some more for the awesome job she has done in both providing information to the new director and saving her from a mouthful of pepper.

Emma had the information she needed and now it was time to act. When she got into the room again, her bottle of champagne was already waiting for her so she thanked Sehun and poured herself a glass.

“Don’t you think we need to have a little more fun?” she said the moment she sat down, not in front of Ksoo but right next to him.

“What do you mean?” the president said, frowning and looking up at her.

“I mean… Baekhyun is an idiot,” she said and checked if the owner was close enough to listen. He wasn’t, a bit busy talking to Jongdae and Suho. “And this Oh Sehun Whatever is sitting right here next to you…”

“And?”

“And?! Ksoo, come on, keep up,” Emma took a sip from her glass. “Honestly, do I really have to explain everything to you?” She took a deep breath and continued. “Maybe you should invest some of your time, intelligence and handsomeness on spending a night with this guy right here instead of the moron down there.”

“Wait… You want me to hook up with Sehun?”

“That’s exactly what I just said,” she took another sip from her drink. “I have very reliable sources saying that he might be gay.”

“That didn’t sound very convincing…” it was his turn to drink from his glass of whiskey. “Besides… I have very reliable sources saying he’s straight,” he raised an eyebrow at his friend, waiting for her to say something.

“Not possible… Mine is more reliable,” Emma shrugged, biting on her lower lip. “Just try, okay? It won’t hurt to forget about your stupid friend for a night and hook up with someone nice,” she gave him a smile and messed his hair a little, regretting it and quickly styling it back again making Ksoo laugh.

Kyungsoo’s loud and enjoyable laugh was enough to get Baekhyun’s and Sehun’s attention, making both of them move towards the other two. They sat in front of them - Baekhyun in front of Ksoo and Sehun in front of Emma - and Ksoo could feel his friend poking his thigh as discreetly as possible.

“How did you like the performances?” Emma asked, sipping from her drink as she looked at Sehun, completely ignoring Baekhyun.

“Oh, Anna and Gabe are always incredible. It’s always amazing to watch them dance, Kasper did an incredible job in teaching them,” he gave her a smirk before sipping from his drink. “Besides… I never congratulated you on your promotion,” he chuckled, raising his glass a little. “I crashed your party and didn’t even get you anything…” he almost pouted and Emma wanted to just shove Kyungsoo there or at least drag him into the conversation.

“This Kasper, whoever he is, definitely deserves some praise. Gabe was looking wonderful, don’t you think Ksoo?” she said, turning to look at her friend making him blush. Baekhyun laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head as he watched.

“Yeah?” Kyungsoo said before taking a sip from his whiskey. “I mean, he always looks great. I prefer when Caleb performs though,” he shrugged, biting on his lower lip. “His shoulders are definitely something.”

“Caleb is also a great performer…” Sehun replied with a smile and soon Kyungsoo and him were too busy talking performers, drinks and the club to notice that Emma was trying to kill Baekhyun with her look every time he said something or even looked at Kyungsoo. Their places at the table weren’t helping much either, she couldn’t really kick Baekhyun without hitting the others so she would have to wait.

The conversation was really going somewhere, Emma could tell. Of course, she had to include herself to shut Baekhyun down a couple times, but Sehun and Kyungsoo apparently had a lot of things in common. Jongdae, Suho and Irene stopped to say their goodbyes, saying the night had been great so far but they had to go home. Emma took that as her chance to leave goal number two alone with each other, all she had to do was find the right reason to make Baekhyun leave.

And then she remembered the bar manager and how flustered he looked when she was around.

So she stood up, telling the investors that she would accompany them the door and told the table she would be back. The conversation started as soon as she left, but she ended up running back in, telling Baekhyun a waiter had ran into her and asked her to tell Baekhyun that Y/N needed him. He stood up and left faster than imagined, leaving Sehun and Kyungsoo alone.

Emma closed the door behind her with a smile on her face.

Little did she know the conversation inside the room would take a very weird turn.

“So, is your friend single?” Sehun asked as soon as Emma was out of the room, pouring himself some wine. Kyungsoo started to laugh right away, making Sehun extremely confused. “What’s so funny about it? Her boyfriend isn’t here, is he?”

“No, that’s not it…” he sighed, finishing his drink. “She’s single. I don’t think I’ve ever heard about any boyfriends,” Kyungsoo shrugged, pouring himself some more whiskey. “She just has her mind set on something else tonight.”

Sehun leaned his head to the side a little, still looking a bit confused. “What do you mean?”

“She wants to set us up,” he raised an eyebrow, pointing from himself to Sehun. “Said she heard from a very reliable source that you’re gay and we would be great together.”

“Oh…” giving up on the confused look, Sehun looked surprised now. Letting himself shake his head and laugh. “I’m sorry to disappoint but I’m straight.”

“It’s fine,” Kyungsoo sighed one more time, drinking from his glass again.

“But hey… I feel like I should make it up to you,” Sehun bit down on his lower lip. “I mean, you’re very handsome and very smart. I have a friend that would love to meet you if you don’t mind,” he offered, eyebrow raised as he looked at Kyungsoo. “He’s supposed to be here with some of his friends. His father is a senator, but I promise he doesn’t look like the son of a politician. Have you heard of Jongin before?”

Kyungsoo shook his head and Sehun started telling him about the guy that lived in the same neighbourhood as him as a child. Jongin is a professional dancer now, owner of his own studio - which happens to be where Baekhyun gets his choreographers from. They go way back. The son of the politician is always at Privé since some of the performers are his students and he comes to appreciate and celebrate their work.

He also happens to be tall, hot, has large shoulders, a great body and a lot of money in the bank. And the best part, according to Sehun right now, gay and single.

Y/N feels pride in knowing all of the important clients by name - especially the ones Baekhyun is close to. It just makes it easier for her to keep them happy and ordering more and more drinks from her bar, increasing everyone’s tips and making not only the clients drunker but the waiters more satisfied.

“Emma said you needed me,” she heard while she was washing some Whiskey glasses, looking up to find Baekhyun sitting on one of her stools once again. “... And didn’t I tell you to leave the washing for someone else? You cut yourself really bad last time.”

“I dropped a glass and needed some stitches. My hand healed fine,” she shrugged and then frowned. “Emma said what now? I never told her I needed you. Last time I checked she was here complaining about your existence…”

“Maybe she just wanted to get rid of me then,” Baekhyun shrugged and looked around. Y/N followed his gaze, trying to check if he was looking for someone or not. “She went out to send some people off. Jongdae, Irene and Suho.”

“You can stay here for a while and pretend she didn’t make a fool of you, I’ll even give you some piece of information so you can pretend you had something to do here,” Y/N smiled, watching as Baekhyun laughed at her, shaking his head. “Jongin is here, at his usual booth,” she started again. “It would be polite to go and say hi.”

“Hmmm, I’m gonna pretend we have some very important business to take care of here for now and then I’ll go there say hi,” Baekhyun made a face, resting his elbows on the counter and then his chin on his hands, looking at Y/N. The bar manager started moving, getting some more drinks ready. She even made sure to put a glass of mango and passion fruit juice in front of her boss, giving him something other than flavoured water to drink that night.

After a while, Y/N noticed Baekhyun had drank half of the glass and wasn’t looking anywhere other than her which made the woman walk closer to him again. “You still haven’t told me what you want for your birthday.”

“And you still haven’t told me what you want for yours,” he said, knowing that her birthday is only three days apart from his. Y/N just rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in from of him.

“You own several clubs and you don’t know what to buy your bar manager for her birthday? Don’t you have people that do that for you?” Y/N teased, giving him a smirk and moving to start another drink.

“I’m not gonna let somebody else choose your gift,” Baekhyun said, drinking from his juice and looking around. “Would you like to get a car for your birthday?”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Y/N just shook her head, letting herself laugh and watch as Baekhyun finished his drink. “Go say hi to Jongin and then go back to your party… You and your crazy ideas.”

Baekhyun gave her a smile and did exactly what Y/N had said, standing up and moving to go say hi to one of his friends. Jongin was supposed to be at his usual booth, at the bar room and near the door to room 4 - the son of the politician has said multiple times that he loved the lighting there and it’s great for photos.

As Baekhyun was getting closer, he saw that the table had more people than he had expected. Jongin would usually be here with his friends - Kasper and Taemin - but there were five people at the table today. When he was close enough to see, Baekhyun noticed that Kyungsoo and Sehun were there too - the last one standing up to leave.

The owner of the club tried to walk faster so he could make his way there and ask then how do they know each other, but Sehun was clever enough to catch him on his way, turning him around and pushing him towards room 7. “Don’t you dare,” Sehun said, making Baekhyun frown.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m about to set Jongin and Kyungsoo up and I’m going to murder you if you mess this up,” Baekhyun looked back and watched as Ksoo smiled towards Jongin, making him smile too.

“Whose idea was it? You’ve known both for a while…”

“Emma,” Sehun said, making Baekhyun looked back again with a frown now, his face already asking Sehun what the hell did he mean by that. “Long story… The important thing is that I know she’s single and that she likes wine and champagne.”

“Should I call for some of it?”

“Better…” Sehun stopped when they were about to enter the room. He had seen Emma walk in when he had just dragged Kyungsoo to Jongin’s table and hoped she was there by herself. “You can wait outside. Ask Y/N to send a bottle of each.”

“She’s not your maid,” Baekhyun said, making Sehun frown for a second and then laugh. He squeezed Baekhyun’s shoulder and pushed him back a little.

“Remember you love me and that I’m your best friend,” he said, giving Baekhyun a smile. Maybe a half drunk smile. “Your feelings are showing a little bit, have a shot of whatever Y/N thinks is best, it’ll do you some good.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes and then just pointed towards the door. “You two look good together,” he said and took a step back. “I’m gonna find someone else to bother,” he let himself laughed softly and left Sehun, walking away and waving.

Sehun couldn’t thank the gods enough for Baekhyun’s understanding. Now, he hoped his romantic skills would be enough to convince Emma that he’s 1) not gay, 2) into her and 3) totally fine with leaving Privé and going somewhere else.

Emma found it incredible that both Sehun and Kyungsoo had left the room together. Maybe her plan had worked out and her boss had finally found himself a man, at least that’s what she was hoping for as she waited around finishing half a bottle of champagne by herself. Sometimes she’s proud of her high tolerance for alcohol, sometimes it just takes more money to get drunk.

She knew the performances were over for the night, Kyungsoo had brought them to Privé mostly because Jongdae, Suho and Irene were fans of the dancers. And he wanted to see Baekhyun’s on his birthday, Emma knew her promotion was basically an excuse but now that she was sitting on her own, relaxing in a private room she couldn’t be happier about it.

But then in walks, Oh Sehun, tall, large shoulders, brown hair, gorgeous face and he walked in alone. Emma ends up raising a glass of champagne, drinking from it and pouring him some in another glass as he walks closer. “Before you ask…” he started, giving her a smile. “I didn’t kill Do Kyungsoo,” he picks up the glass and sits right in front of her, taking a sip from it. “But I did give him to someone who might. Of fun. Kill him of fun,” he laughed.

Emma frowned, looking a bit confused as she heard Sehun speaking. Last time she checked, she had left them both another to hook up… Why is Sehun telling her that Kyungsoo is somewhere else? “What do you mean?”

“Well… First of all, I’m not gay,” he said and Emma almost choked on her drink. She was going to murder Y/N. And Baekhyun. Maybe she shouldn’t have trusted the bar manager from Baekhyun’s club but she had hoped the girl would at least have some consideration left for her clients. Sehun, on the other hand, was laughing. “Don’t worry… It’s not the first time people have assumed I am,” he shrugged. “I did find Ksoo someone nice though. I would have done it ages ago if I had known he was looking for someone… He’s a friend of mine, Jongin. A dancer, Ksoo is going to love him.”

Emma was trying to recover from almost choking, almost standing up and running away, almost calling the police on Baekhyun for trying to ruin her life, but she did manage to take another sip of champagne and look up at him. “Well, I’m glad. Ksoo needed to find someone new. He’s been stuck on this same old crush for too long now,” she shrugged, biting on her lower lip.

“I’m sure he’s going to have lots of fun,” he smirked, taking a look around and reaching to pour more alcohol into his glass. “And, well… Second of all, since your goal has finally been met… Would you like to help me with one of my own?”

“Well, it depends. I’ve already managed to meet two of my goals for the night. I think the last one might be on its way too…” she was expecting Baekhyun to walk into the room any minute now and she would tell him to fuck off.

Sehun just shook his head, he had never met someone this oblivious before. Maybe Y/N and Baekhyun who have been flirting back and forth for years now, but this has never happened to him. “You look great in that dress,” he said, one eyebrow raised, finishing his glass and leaning back, crossing his legs. “And I told Baekhyun to stay as far from here as possible. Kyungsoo is with Jongin…”

Emma wasn’t exactly following, she looked down and checked her dress, crossing her own legs then. She also frowned when Baekhyun was mentioned, finishing her glass herself. Why would Sehun ask Baekhyun to stay away? She was about to go over his words again when he single leaned forward, pouring both of them another glass of champagne. “What I’m trying to say here… And believe me, I’ve tried to be subtle, is that it would be great to kiss you, take you home and take that dress off tonight.”

She wanted to facepalm herself. Emma could feel her innerself, always smarter, punching her in the face several times. Sehun had ordered her another bottle of her drink earlier, he had paid attention to her talking about Caleb, had even found Ksoo someone else so they’d be able to be alone. It’s extremely annoying to be this blunt sometimes. Fuck it, she thought. Sehun is not only hot, gorgeous and has an incredible body, he’s also clever and just her type. Emma, on an act of bravery, downed her entire glass of champagne and moved to stand right in front of him. “Well?” she shrugged, moving one of her hands to cup one of his cheeks, her head leaning to the side. “What are you waiting for?”

Sehun pulled her close by the waist, making Emma straddle his lap. Their lips found each other instantly, both too drunk to care about making it look a certain way. The kiss was curious at first, checking what the other liked more, but it progressed to passionate when they finally found their rhythm. Her hands had moved from his face to his shoulders, squeezing them when Sehun decided to check if neck kisses would do something - she ended up squeezing a bit too hard and Sehun was glad he had decided on wearing a jacket, otherwise, he would have nail marks on his shoulder the next day.

His hands didn’t just stay still, they moved lower when his lips moved back to hers. She would have to murder the bar manager for even daring to tell her this man right here whose kiss was about to make her go freaking insane was gay.

Emma had started to unbutton Sehun’s shirt when he leaned back and stopped her, the woman frowning and leaning back a little. She leaned her head to the side in confusion again.

Sehun brought her hands close to his lips, pressing a kiss on each. “Baekhyun has cameras in all of his rooms,” he laughed. “We better find ourselves somewhere more… Private,” he bit on his lower lip.

“Oh, the irony. Isn’t this club named Privé?” she joked, leaning back to get up and grab her bag. “My place or yours?”

“I believe mine is closer. I’m in no shape to drive,” he shrugged, grabbing the half finished Champagne bottle and moving closer to her, pressing their lips together. “We can get a cab, if you don’t mind.”

Emma just shook her head, grabbing his hand to pull him closer and give him a proper kiss. It took them a while to break from it this time, getting out of the room together, Sehun’s hand behind Emma’s back. They couldn’t find Baekhyun or Kyungsoo anywhere, so they just headed outside and called a cab. Emma opened her phone to text Ksoo just to find out she had a text from him saying he was going back to his place with this guy, Sehun texted Y/N instead of his friend, letting her know he was going home with a woman and telling her to stop telling beautiful woman that he’s gay.

It was hard for both of them to keep their hands to each other during the seven blocks ride to Sehun’s apartment, but they managed to do so. The same can’t be said about the elevator, Sehun’s kitchen, his living room and his bedroom.

The bar was about to close, the waiters already letting the clients know it was almost time and they should order now if they wanted something else to drink. The kitchen had closed ages ago. It was around five in the morning now, only a few clients were left. Y/N had seen Sehun leaving with that woman Emma earlier, laughing at the text she had gotten. She had also seen Kyungsoo making out with Jongin and then they left together. A few other clients had also said their goodbyes and only the drunk remained.

She had organized most of the bar already, sending some of the waiters home and letting them know she would close today. She hadn’t seen Baekhyun go home and she had to give him his birthday present still - she had actually bought something, teasing him earlier about not really knowing what to buy - so she was hoping to meet him.

Y/N was losing hope since she had sent the last waiter home because the last couple had left and Baekhyun hadn’t shown up yet. She finished organizing the bar and watched as the cleaning crew got the room ready for the next day. Around six she was moving to get her coat, but she stopped when she saw Baekhyun getting into the room. “Thought you had already left,” she said, coming back with a smile on her face.

“I was going over a few files… What happened to everyone?”

“You mean after you abandoned them?” Y/N showing him the tongue and Baekhyun sat right in front of her. “I saw Sehun and Emma going somewhere together, same with Kyungsoo and Jongin. I think your friends bailed you on your birthday,” she joked, making a face.

“This is when normal people decide to get super drunk, right?” Baekhyun said, surprising Y/N who just shrugged and then nodded. “What can you get me?”

“Do you want me to get you super drunk with one shot only?” Y/N was about to take the challenge, moving to grab the strongest stuff she had.

“... Okay, maybe not super drunk. Just something. I think the night deserves a celebration somehow,” Baekhyun said, making Y/N laugh.

The woman moved, humming around as Baekhyun watched her. The club was empty and the only person left was Lay, Baekhyun’s head of security, but he knew enough to leave them alone. Even though Y/N wanted to get Baekhyun drunk with a shot only she decided on making him a nice drink - she didn’t want her boss throwing up on her bar at six in the morning. She put together a very pretty Blueberry Gin Tonic that she hoped would help him overcome being left behind and then she put another one on the counter.

“Am I supposed to drink both?” he said, his eyes widening.

“I’m drinking the second one. I’m not even supposed to be here this late, I’m gonna drink something myself,” she joked, moving to get on the other side of the counter. Y/N made sure to stop by her bag, taking Baekhyun’s gift with her. “Here, before you drink…” she handed him the small box, standing right in front of him. “Happy birthday, Baekhyun,” she smiled and then sat down once he had taken the box from her.

When Baekhyun opened it, he found a golden necklace inside. The pendent was a golden martini glass. He smiled when he saw it, already taking it out of the box and asking Y/N to put it on for him. She let herself laugh at his enthusiasm but helped him anyway. “So you won’t forget about this great bar manager you have,” she winked, grabbing her glass and sitting down.

“Thought you didn’t know what to give me,” he made a face at her, grabbing his drink and drinking from it. “I think it’s really pretty… Thank you,” he smiled at her. “Now I really have to get you a car…” he teased, making her laugh and shake her head.

“Shut up. If you get me a car I’ll only end up selling it. You know I don’t drive here in New York, there’s no reason for me to do so,” she mixed her drink a bit more with the straw, taking another sip from it.

They talked and talked and Baekhyun’s cheeks got redder and redder. That’s one of the reasons he wouldn’t drink, the first one was that he would always get drunk way sooner than other people. Today he felt fine, maybe a little braver than expected.

“Should we go get some breakfast? It’s almost seven,” he invited Y/N as she finished cleaning their glasses, letting her hair down and messing the curls up a bit.

“Hmmm, sure. There’s a café near here that they open around seven. They have this amazing frappuccino,” she smiled and moved to get her stuff, putting on her coat and grabbing her bag.

Baekhyun also left to get his own coat and handbag, telling Lay he would be fine going with Y/N, that he wouldn’t need security to go have breakfast. They could meet up later again. When he walked up to the entrance, Y/N was already waiting for him there. And she looked stunning in the morning light. Her messy curly hair, long coat, heels and her smile made Baekhyun rush over to her. “Hey,” he said, feeling the alcohol numb him a bit still.

“Hey,” she said, giving him a sweet smile. It would be ridiculous for her to say this is the Baekhyun she likes the most, the one she gets to see early in the morning, but it is.

Baekhyun bit down on his lower lip and reached out for her hand. Y/N frowned for a second, but then moved to take his. It didn’t take him much to pull her closer by the hand, his lips almost touching hers. He had his eyes closed when he asked if he could kiss her and she had hers open when he leaned closer to kill the space between them.

They kissed right there, right in front of Privé, the morning light hitting both of them, people walking by going to work, people going home, some even complained that people were kissing in front of a club this early in the morning. They held hands during the entire kiss, leaning back with a soft giggle.

Staring at each other for a while, Baekhyun decided it was time for a second kiss and leaned into it again as Y/N couldn’t help but smile and even laugh a little. They kissed twice, three times, four and five and only then decided it was enough. For now.

“I should get you birthday presents more often,” she said as she leaned back from the last kiss, making him laugh.

“I think I just gave you yours,” he joked and ended up getting a slap on his arm as a response.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” she said right after the slap, taking his hand then and lacing their fingers together. “Breakfast? I’m dying for that frappuccino and some cupcakes,” she said, sounding really excited about it.

“Breakfast! I could use some coffee,” he said, letting Y/N lead them to the café near his club. He couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop looking at her, couldn’t stop looking like the fool in love that he is but will never admit to it.

They stayed out until around nine, taking their time to drink their coffees, eat their food and just talk about their day - or night. And once they were both done, they decided to go back to Y/N’s apartment - not that it was closer, but she just wasn’t ready to meet his place. And he would love to meet hers.

As soon as they got in, Baekhyun got a text from Sehun telling him that he would probably not go to Privé that night because Emma had invited him out on a proper date before leaving his house early that morning.

Y/N dropped her coat on the couch when they reached the living room of her two bedroom apartment in Midtown Manhattan. Baekhyun followed, having left his shoes my the door and then his coat on the couch too.

They started kissing again, a bit more soft this time, slowly moving towards the bedroom and Y/N’s huge bed. Baekhyun laid down first and Y/N moved to his side, leaning close enough to press some feather kisses to his jawline… But soon the blankets were too inviting, the pillows too soft and both of them fell asleep with yesterday’s clothes still on.

Byun Baekhyun is the owner of several night clubs in New York, being the one responsible to entertain the rich and powerful in the city, but ended up finding content and happiness inside an overpriced apartment in Midtown Manhattan.

#exo #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #baekhyun #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #byun baekhyun #exo au #baekhyun au #byun baekhyun au #love shot

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kegofglory · 5 years

Text

Sea Meets Earth (1/1)

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Pairing: Killian Jones/Emma Swan

Summary: Modern Neighbors Au.

She presses her lips together into a hard line, trying to figure out why she’s intrigued by this man, her new neighbor. There’s the obvious--he’s incredibly attractive, even at six in the morning in sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There’s the fact that she knows he’s an incredible support to her brother and sister-in-law. But mostly, she thinks, it might be that there’s something eerily familiar in his eyes. She can’t really explain it, but she feels a weird sense of understanding when they look at each other.

AO3

---///---

Killian’s knowledge of Emma Swan is incredibly limited. In fact, he knows four things about her.

1. She’s David’s younger sister. 2. She’s a pastry chef. 3. She lives in Boston--or at least, she did live in Boston. 4. She has an eleven-year-old son, Henry.

That’s it. After six years of friendship with David Nolan, and four years of being partners, those are the only facts that he’s collected about her.

He also knows that David loves her deeply and fully, and that he’s crazy protective of her.

That’s what gets him to even mention the soon to be vacant apartment above him in his nice duplex in New York City. Finding real estate in the city is no joke, and he’s only lucky enough to be close friends with his landlord, Nemo.

“So, my upstairs neighbor is moving out in two weeks if you’re still worried about your sister finding a place in the city,” Killian says from his side of the patrol car.

David raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I’m not lying, mate,” Killian says.

His partner rolls his eyes. “Has Nemo rented it out yet?”

“No, I mentioned it to him and he said to give you his number to pass along to Emma. It’s a two bedroom one bath, and he’s cheap in terms of New York prices.”

David nods, “Thanks man. I’ll let her know.”

“So, what brings your mysterious sister to the city?” he asks.

Beside him, David’s entire body goes tense. Killian remains silent, allowing his friend some time to respond, if he even wants to. “She just needs to be closer to us, ya know?”

Killian nods. David has always reminded him a lot of Liam. Sometimes, it’s hard, but sometimes, it’s comforting to have someone like Liam in his life. When he’s feeling particularly sentimental, he thinks that Liam sent David his way on purpose.

“Sure. Well, I’ll text his number to you and she can check it out, I guess.”

---///--- “And we have to go to the library, the one on 5th! Mom, it is so cool, and you can probably find all the fairytale books you like there.”

Emma stares down at her son, who is rambling despite the fact that he’s struggling to get a few boxes out of the U-haul.

“Sure, kid. What do you say we at least get these boxes inside first, though?” she says, unable to fight the affectionate laughter bubbling up in her chest.

“Uncle David said we have to go to the Hall of Science. It sounds sooo cool,” he’s still going on, and Emma rolls her eyes.

“Kid, relax. We’re going to have time to do all the things, okay?” she says. “Listen, David and Mary Margaret are on their way here, and they’re going to help us with some of Uncle David’s coworkers so we can get this done fast.”

Henry grunts. “I just want us to do it all before we go again.”

Emma stops in her tracks, turning to stare at her son. He looks up at her guiltily.

“Hey, Henry. Put that box down, come here,” she mumbles, grabbing his hand and leading him to their new front porch steps. Thankfully, according to her brother, their new downstairs neighbor is apparently out of town, so she doesn’t have to worry about bothering him as they noisily move everything into the upstairs unit.

“I didn’t mean it,” Henry mutters, sitting down beside her.

“It’s okay if you did. I know I’ve moved us around a bit too much in the past,” Emma says, rubbing her lips together as her son nods sadly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Mom, it’s fine. This is only our third move,” he says, sounding way too adult, as always. “I know it’s because you needed to do it.”

Emma squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head. “We’re here to stay. We’re not going anywhere for awhile, so I hope you like it here.”

He smiles. “I’m going to love it if you do, mom,” he says.

That’s really all it takes for tears to prick at the corners of her eyes. She sighs, leaning over and kissing the top of his head. “I love you, kid.”

He smiles, and like clockwork, David pulls into her drive with his wife and two large men from work.

She approaches his truck, watching the strangers pile out. “Hi guys. I’m Emma and I’m also eternally grateful you’re all here to help. I’ve supplied all the pizza and all the beer upstairs in the fridge.”

The tall man laughs, stretching his hand out to her. “It’s no worries. I’m Robin, and this is Jefferson,” he says.

She shakes both of their hands, smiling kindly as they head toward the u-haul.

David is about to wrap his sister into a hug but is interrupted when Mary Margaret practically pushes him into the bushes, running to wrap Emma into a tight hug.

“It’s so good to finally have you here,” her sister-in-law cries into her ear.

There’s something that is so consistently warm and welcoming about Mary Margaret that makes Emma feel at home for the first time since arriving to this bustling city.

David groans, “Let’s get unpacking, girls. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can take Emma and Henry to Granny’s.”

At this, Henry perks up visibly, well aware of the diner that they go to every time Henry and Emma visit. “Do they still have those onion rings?”

“Of course they do,” David says, chuckling as he leads the way to the truck.

And Emma finds that, throughout the day, her stomach begins to hurt less and less. Maybe she is home, at least for awhile.

---///---

Killian has lived in the same duplex for eight years, and he’s never had much of a relationship with the tenants that have lived above him. There are instances where he sees them, of course. He has a beautiful front porch, where both of their entry doors are located, and the tenants upstairs get a lovely balcony right above his porch.

He figures it will probably be the same with Emma and her boy.

The first night he gets back from his trip, it’s late and he can see the light upstairs shining through the window, along with a yellow bug sitting on the street in front of the house. Killian laughs when he sees the car and shrugs, entering his apartment and heading straight to bed.

Any Sunday morning that Killian is lucky enough to have off, he sticks to the same routine. He wakes up as early as he can and enjoys the sunrise sitting on his porch swing with a cup of coffee. He’s done it for as long as he can remember. Even as a child, Liam would wake him up and take him outside, where they’d sit in the grass and watch in silence.

After his trip to go visit Elsa this past week, he finds his mind wandering to a dark, sad place a little more often than usual. Elsa was Liam’s best friend, his soulmate, and he tries to make an effort to go see her at least once a month.

His heart hurts, though, when he leaves. She always wants to revel in the memories of Liam. His kindness, his loyalty, his morals. It’s nice, because she’s the only person on this planet that loved Liam as much as he did. At the same time, it forces a lot of thoughts to the front and center of his brain,

Like how his brother practically raised him while his alcoholic father did absolutely nothing, or how it was always their dream to one day go back home to London and visit all the places their mother wrote about in her old journals.

Or how he knows that Liam would want more for Killian than what he settles for now.

An unfamiliar voice pulls him from this dangerous road, though. “Mom! Mary Margaret called me and asked why you’re ignoring her texts,” a young voice calls. Killian looks up. They must be on the balcony. If he stood up and walked forward a few feet, he’d be able to see. But, that would be creepy, so he stays seated.

A feminine laugh sounds, and he raises an eyebrow out of instinct.

“I didn’t consider that moving to New York meant I’d be even closer to the two most controlling people I’ve ever met,” she says. Her son laughs in response.

“Should I tell her what we’re doing today?” he asks.

“No, kid. It’s our day. Just tell her we’re busy,” she says, and she sounds a little guilty.

“Good, because we can just meet them later anyways. We should go explore on our own. But mom--”

“Henry,” she cuts him off, chuckling. “If you tell me the hall of science opens at ten one more time, I’m going to go back to sleep until noon just to spite you.”

Killian can’t help the small smile that fights its way onto his face. The domestic familiarity between the two makes his heart swell.

“It’s nine, mom! What if there’s traffic? What if there’s a line to get in?”

He hears footsteps above him. “Okay, okay. I’m jumping in the shower. We will leave in twenty minutes. Can you go, like, complain about being up early on a Sunday or something like a normal kid?”

“Normal? But you’re the one that raised me this way,” Henry jokes and then their voices grow quieter. And Killian wonders for the first time what Emma Swan’s story is.

David keeps his stories about her close to his chest. He can see the love and pride in his eyes every time he brings his sister up, but he never shares many details. And Killian never pushes, because that’s how their friendship has always worked. David has returned the favor tenfold, allowing him to talk about his childhood only as much as he felt comfortable.

It’s a half hour later when Killian almost done with his coffee and the front door swings open to reveal a young boy with brown hair and a blue backpack on his shoulders. “Mom!” he calls up the stairs before turning and noticing Killian.

“Oh, hello! Sorry for shouting,” he says and Killian laughs.

“It’s quite alright, lad,” he says, standing up and approaching the young boy. “I’m Killian Jones. I’m guessing you’re Henry?”

Henry grins. “You’re Uncle David’s partner?” he asks, reaching forward to shake his hand. The manners in the young boy remind him of David. Or Liam.

“Yes, that I am,” he replies, shaking the young boy’s hand. “How are you liking the city?”

Henry shrugs. “It’s pretty cool, but we haven’t had a chance to do anything other any unpack and organize. Mom and I are sneaking out into the city today.”

“Sneaking out?” he asks.

Henry nods, fiddling with the straps of his backpack. “Uncle David and Aunt Snow said that on our first free day they want to take us on a tour,” he says.

“First of all,” he ticks off one finger. “Aunt Snow?”

Henry chuckles, and his nose scrunches up. “My mom always calls her Snow White… you know… because she’s kind of like a nice princess,” he explains.

Killian barks a laugh at this. “Very fitting. And two, do you guys not want to go on a tour?”

Henry looks around nervously, like he’s sharing a top secret. “My mom and I like to do things on our own, sometimes. Every time we move somewhere or go on a vacation, we take the first day just us to explore whatever we want. No itinerary. We don’t want to hurt Aunt Snow or Uncle David’s feelings so we’re keeping it a secret.”

Henry’s face is bright as he explains this tradition to Killian, and it brings a genuine smile to his face. It’s obvious that Emma is this boy’s hero.

“Sounds like a good tradition to uphold,” Killian says.

Before Henry can respond, though, the door swings open again to reveal a blonde, her fingers wrapped tightly around a black thermos full of what he only assumes is coffee.

She looks at her son, then her green eyes land on Killian, and he has to physically take a step back at the intensity in her gaze.

She smiles tightly, turning to Henry and handing him the thermos, her hair falling around her in waves. “You have extra cinnamon in your backpack, right?”

He nods. “Of course.”

She turns back to Killian, and her smile is a little more open now, though her eyes are still electric and curious.

“Mom, this is Killian, Uncle David’s partner,” he says, clearly unaware of the effect that his mother is having on his ability to speak or even breathe.

“I’m Emma Swan. I’ve heard tons about you,” she says, extending her hand forward.

He clears his throat. “That can’t be good,” he jokes.

She laughs, and it’s beautiful. He wants to hear it again.

“Please, it’s David. He has a hard time finding a bad thing to say about anyone. I’ve only heard good things.”

He smiles, trying to think of anything to say. For some reason, he knows the charm and bravado he normally relies on won’t work with her.

Before he can even formulate a response, she turns and locks her front door. “Well, we’re off. See ya around,” she says.

Henry grins. “Bye Killian!”

“Bye, lad. See you around, Swan,” he says, the words falling off his lips before he can think about it. She whips her head around to look at him, wonder in her eyes, before she nods and leads her son to her little yellow car.

It’s not until they speed off that Killian can even out his breathing again. He swallows hard, shaking his head. Fuck. He doesn’t need this kind of distraction right now.

---///---

A week goes by without Emma seeing Killian, and she thinks that’s probably for the best. She had to make a conscious effort not to think about him on her entire day with Henry last weekend. Something about his eyes, his smile, his… something, got under her skin. In a wonderful, terrifying way.

It’s the following Sunday that she sees him again. She opens her door to leave at 5:45 in the morning when he makes his presence known.

“Good morning, Swan,” he says, and she jumps, letting out an embarrassing yelp. She turns to see him sitting on his porch swing.

“Fuck,” she mutters, placing her hand over her racing heart. “You scared me.”

“My apologies,” he says, though he’s wearing an amused smile. “I’m just surprised you’re up so early.”

She laughs, leaning against the wood pillar and she takes a sip from her coffee cup. “I work in a bakery, Jones, so this is a normal hour for me.”

His eyes brighten when she sarcastically calls him by his last name. He stands, and she watches the swing move back and forth as he steps into her space. She doesn’t step back though, just looks up at him knowingly.

“Oh yes, you’re a pastry chef. Tell me, what’s your specialty?” he asks, raising a suggestive eyebrow. She can feel his breath on her face.

She smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asks, surprising herself when she holds his gaze.

“Perhaps I would,” he returns, and her whole body warms at the way he looks at her.

“If you hear a child screaming violently, it’s most likely my son playing video games, just so you know,” she says, changing the subject to something safe.

He laughs at this. “Good to know.”

“Don’t worry, though. David and Snow are coming to get him at nine for breakfast,” she says.

He shakes his head. “I’m not worried.” He dips his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers, and she has to force herself to breathe normally.

She clears her throat. “I’d better go. Have a good day,” she says.

“I’d say it’s off to a pretty great start, love,” he says.

She rolls her eyes, turning around before he can see the smile on her face.

---///---

Killian is pacing a hole into his floor at nine when there’s a knock at his door. He sighs, swinging the door open to reveal David, Mary Margaret and Henry all smiling brightly at him.

Jesus Christ.

“Hello,” he drawls out awkwardly.

Mary Margaret giggles. “We’re going to go get breakfast. Would you like to join?”

Killian raises an eyebrow. His only plan for the day was to sit in his apartment and wonder why he has no control over his actions when Emma’s around. This seems like a better alternative.

“Sure,” he says, slipping some shoes on. “Where to?”

“Grannys, of course!” Henry practically cheers. “And we’re going to surprise my mom and bring her some hot chocolate.”

Killian stops in his tracks, suddenly unsure if he should join. David looks at Killian suspiciously and he can even feel Mary Margaret’s curious eyes on him.

“Alright, let’s go,” he says breezily before anyone can question him

Henry grins. “Awesome! Have you been to Granny’s, Killian?”

The entire walk to Granny’s is filled with mindless chatter, mostly on Henry’s part, and he can’t help but notice the looks that Mary Margaret and David keep exchanging.

“I hate when you guys do that,” Killian says suddenly, staring at his best friend.

David feigns confusion. “Do what?”

“Have conversations with each other without speaking,” he mumbles.

Henry laughs loudly at this. “You guys do actually do that. It’s really weird,” he agrees.

Killian looks at the married couple, pointing at Henry as if that’s proof enough.

“Whatever, Henry. Don’t act like you and your mother don’t have a second language of your own. Half the time, I need a translator just to keep up,” David replies, laughing.

“At least we actually talk, though,” Henry counters. “You guys don’t even say words… just stare at each other.”

Mary Margaret scoffs, glaring at Killian. “Do you see what you’ve started!?”

He laughs fully, shaking his head as he enters Granny’s.

The lunch carries on like that. The conversation is easy and Henry’s kindness and intelligence continues to shock him.

Henry happily leaves with the to go hot chocolate in his hands. “Come on, Killian. My mom’s work is only a block away,” Henry calls, running to catch up to Mary Margaret and David, who are holding hands and giggling together a few feet ahead of them.

Killian starts to get nervous, though. He already feels like a fool when he sees Emma at their house. He knows the moment David sees Killian look at Emma, he’ll know what’s going on.

Henry swings the door open, and Killian looks up at the sign. Blackbird Baking Co.

The bell on the door chimes, and Emma looks up, her face brightening obviously when she sees her family. She grins, wiping her hands on her red apron.

“Hi guys. Couldn’t handle one morning without me?” she asks before her eyes land on Killian. Her mouth opens slightly, surprise crossing her face for a millisecond before she schools her features.

“We brought you hot chocolate with cinnamon,” Henry says proudly, and Emma’s face changes suddenly.

It takes Killian by surprise, the way every single part of her softens when she engages with her son. She smiles, taking the cup from him and shooting him a wink.

“Best kid in the world,” she says.

“Hey, I paid for it,” David calls out defensively, and Emma rolls her eyes.

“Best brother in the world,” she deadpans. “I see you guys have dragged my neighbor out with you today,” she nods at Killian, who’s still standing a bit behind the other three.

“It’s so nice that the two people we love most in this city live in the same house. Makes life so much easier,” Mary Margaret says.

Emma laughs, walking around the counter and wrapping an arm around Henry.

“So, I was thinking…” Mary Margaret starts nervously, and Emma smirks.

“Yes?” she asks knowingly.

“I was thinking we could have a housewarming party? We’ll plan it on a night that Killian’s off, so we don’t have to worry about disturbing him with the noise, and so that he can be there, of course! And we can invite all of our friends so you can get to know them.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I should be surprised it took you this long to suggest such a thing.”

David chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of Mary Margaret’s head affectionately. “I had to really compromise with her on this. She wanted to do it the night you arrived.”

Even Killian laughs at this, and Emma’s eyes dart to him. He smiles kindly, trying to keep his eyes from lingering on her for too long.

“I don’t think I stand much a chance stopping you so okay, Snow. Just… try to keep it lowkey,” she says, dragging her eyes back to Mary Margaret.

“I can be lowkey,” Mary Margaret counters, looking at her husband, who is smirking.

“Sure, honey,” he agrees sarcastically and Henry laughs loudly.

“Well, I think it sounds nice. Mom, you need some friends in your life.”

Emma’s jaw drops, turning to glare playfully at her son. “I have friends!”

She rolls her eyes when Killian, David, and Mary Margaret all begin laughing at the exchange.

“These two don’t count, they’re family,” he says, jabbing his thumb toward his aunt and uncle. “And I don’t count either.”

Emma presses her lips together and motions toward Killian. “He’s my friend.”

“Really?” Henry asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Doubtful. I’m pretty sure I’ve spent more time with him than you have, mom.”

Killian can’t help but raise his eyebrows at Emma when she glances over at him. “The lad’s got a point, Swan. When are you going to come downstairs and hang out with me. I can play video games, too,” he says, and although his voice is teasing, David’s head whips toward Killian immediately.

“You’ve never invited me, Jones. Next time Henry and I have a Super Mario showdown, though, we’ll yell for you.”

He grins widely at her. “I’d be honored to join.”

Mary Margaret giggles lightly, and he doesn’t miss the knowing look she shoots Emma. Or the way Emma shoots a glare back.

Okay, so maybe the silent conversation thing is more of a Mary Margaret thing.

“We’ll let you get back to work, Em,” David says finally. “We’ll see you later though.”

“Thanks for feeding my child, guys,” she says.

“I can fend for myself, you know,” Henry cuts in. “I’m eleven.”

Emma just rolls her eyes, her free hand landing on her son’s shoulder. “You’re practically an adult. See you this afternoon, kid.”

“Are you going to bring home any extra pastries?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows as he looks at the brownies in the display case behind her.

She rolls her eyes. “Goodbye, guys,” she calls and they all turn to leave.

And try as he might, Killian still turns around to get another look at her, and to his surprise, she’s watching him as well.

“See ya later, friend,” he says, and her eyes widen, shaking her head.

“Goodbye, Jones.”

---///---

“So, how is it living under my sister and nephew?” David asks the next day when they are finishing up paperwork at the end of their shift.

Killian shrugs. “Fine. I don’t see much of them, really,” he says quickly, refusing to meet his best friend’s eyes.

“Yeah, that makes sense. You know, you and Emma are eerily similar. I never really thought about it before.”

“Oh, are we?” Killian asks. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

David laughs, and Killian realizes he has said too much. “And why is that?”

Killian rolls his eyes. He’s not in the mood to be psychoanalyzed by his best friend. “I just don’t see it, is all.”

David hums. “Okay. Sure. Just, be careful,” he says.

Killian raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t push. He wants this conversation to end yesterday.

David leans back in his chair, the squeaking cutting through the tension. “Killian,” he says quietly.

Finally, Killian looks up. When he meets his friend’s eyes, though, he’s surprised to see genuine sincerity etched into his features. “What is it, mate?” Killian asks, swallowing the lump in his throat.

There’s so much love in David’s heart, and he’s always wondered what David even saw in him. When Killian met David, he was in the worst place of his life. It was right after his brother had died. Killian and David met at the precinct on Killian’s first day, which was a month after Liam’s death. He was a right prick at the time, spending every day off hiding in his bedroom and drinking himself to sleep.

David didn’t even know what was going on, but he just seemed to sense that Killian needed someone. So he continuously invited him over for dinner with his wife. Killian declined every time, honestly getting annoyed that the man would not let up.

Then, one day, after a particularly rough shift, David walked up to him and told him they were going to the bar. Seeing as that was much more Killian’s speed, he agreed. David was terrible at holding his liquor, and Killian got plastered as well. Mary Margaret came to pick them up at closing time, and she basically tucked him into bed in their guest room.

The next morning, nursing a hangover, David stood in front of him and said something that Killian will never forget. He said, “I know there’s a lot of good in you. Sometimes, the darkness seems insurmountable, but it’s not. You are better than this, and I’m going to keep harassing you and trying to help you no matter how mad it makes you, Killian.”

Then Mary Margaret made him breakfast and coffee and when he left she hugged him so tightly. He didn’t even know a hug could carry so much emotion.

The rest was history. They basically took him in as their adopted child and he wouldn’t change a thing about it.

When it came to Emma, David always seemed to get that same look in his eyes that he had when he lectured Killian that morning.

David sighs, pulling Killian from his thoughts. “She can use a friend like you,” he says, his words measured.

Killian nods gravely, and David nods before he looks away and changes the subject to a case they’re working on.

---///---

Emma’s leaning against the ledge of her balcony when she spots Killian walking up the sidewalk. She ignores the ridiculous way her stomach lurches, and before she can control it, she’s calling his name. He looks up and smiles so brightly it almost blinds her, even with the distance and the darkness surrounding him.

“How are you still up, Swan? Don’t you work at the crack of dawn?” he calls, stopping in the grass and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I have a hard time sleeping,” she admits. “Are you just getting off work?” she asks.

He nods. “Yeah. David and I had to work the once a month 10am to 10pm today.”

“Yuck,” she says. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

For some reason, Emma doesn’t want to let this conversation to die. She feels so much safer with the distance between them, like she can let her guard down and just chat as herself.

He seems to sense this, smiling softly at her. “I also have a hard time sleeping, so it’ll be awhile before I finally fall asleep.”

She nods, looking up at the moon for a minute when she can’t find anything to say.

“So, love, what’s on your mind this evening?” he asks, and she sighs.

“Just thinking about Henry,” she replies honestly. He raises an eyebrow at her in surprise, waiting for her to elaborate. “He’s just so grown up… sometimes, it makes me sad.”

“How so?” he questions, his voice free of any judgement.

Emma leans forward more, trying to get a better look at his face. He’s so beautiful. She’s never described and grown man as beautiful, but looking at him, it’s all she can think.

“I hope he didn’t feel the need to grow up too fast, you know? He deserves a chance to just be a kid,” she explains.

He nods slowly. “I don’t know the lad that well, but if you want my opinion, I’d say that Henry is just a smart, mature kid. I don’t think it’s due to some emotional trauma. He seems like he gets a lot of his qualities from you.”

She scoffs. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

He shakes his head, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. “Trust me, love. It’s not a bad thing.”

She smiles despite herself. “Thanks,,” she says so softly that she’d assume he couldn’t hear her if it weren’t for the next words out of his mouth.

“No worries. Would you like to come down and sit on the porch or should we continue this Romeo & Juliet scenario here?” he asks, and even she can hear the nerves in his voice.

And she wants to say sure.

Yes.

That’s what normal people do.

He watches her carefully as she thinks to herself. “I should probably try to get some sleep, but raincheck,” she says.

And all she can think is she’s such a chicken. He nods, looking a little disappointed.

“Sweet dreams, Swan,” he calls before walking toward the house and out of her view.

“Fuck,” she mutters to herself before heading inside and she definitely does not have sweet dreams about the man living below her.

---///---

It takes Mary Margaret only three days to plan and organize Emma’s housewarming party. She sends David and Killian out to pick up ice, because according to Mary Margaret, there’s no such thing as too much ice. They dropped Henry off at a new friends house on the way, which is giving Emma enough anxiety to last her the rest of the night.

In the meantime, Emma helps her sister-in-law set up. And by help, she means does exactly as instructed.

“So,” Mary Margaret starts, trailing off.

Emma knows that voice well. She has heard it about a hundred times in her life. Mary Margaret came into their lives when Emma was sixteen, and they’ve always been able to read each other.

“What is it, Snow?” she asks.

“I was just thinking,” she starts, keeping her focus on the cheese tray she’s assembling, “You know, Killian is a really good guy.”

“Oh shit,” Emma says immediately. “This was bound to happen, I guess.”

Mary Margaret snorts. “I’m just saying. He’s cute, and he’s nice, and Henry seems to like him.”

“So, should we get married tomorrow then?” Emma asks sarcastically, pulling a beer out of the fridge even though they still have two hours before the party begins.

“In my ideal world, sure,” Mary Margaret teases. “Seriously, Em, I’m just saying. We love Killian and I happen to think you are at least a little intrigued.”

“I don’t know what gives you that idea,” Emma mutters, taking a long swig from her beer as she avoids eye contact with her sister-in-law.

“I saw the weird way you looked at him when we came to the bakery the other day. It was… different. I’ve never seen your eyes look like that before.”

Emma clears her throat, shaking her head. Thankfully, the boys choose the perfect moment to return home. “Thank God,” Emma mumbles, much to Mary Margaret’s chagrin.

“Okay,” David says as soon she he opens her door. “So when Killian and I were trying to do a shot of rum earlier we were sent out of the house to keep out of trouble, but Emma can start drinking beer at six?” he asks.

Killian laughs, walking into the house and smiling. “It’s nice up here, Swan,” he says, eyeing the picture frames on her mantle. She feels exposed, the way he stares at her family photos with obvious interest.

“Thanks,” she says breezily. “And it’s my party, so I say we all start drinking now,” she says.

David grins, setting the ice into the kooler before placing a quick kiss on Emma’s cheek. “What a good host you are,” he says.

Mary Margaret groans. “Actually, Emma. You’ve never had the displeasure of seeing these two when they drink together. It’s in everyone best interest that they hold off.”

Emma barks out a laugh at that. “Okay, that’s something I want to see. Last time I drank with David was, like, four years ago,” she says before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Remember, David! You fell asleep on my porch and my neighbor called the cops because they thought you were homeless.”

Killian’s eyebrows immediately shoot skyward, and even Mary Margaret giggles.

“It was your birthday and we were supposed to take you out on the town,” Mary Margaret reminisces.

“We didn’t even make it out of my apartment thanks to David,” she says between her laughter. She glances over at Killian to see him watching her with a new look in his eyes.

What is that? Curiosity? Surprise? She can’t quite tell.

“He is quite the lightweight,” Killian adds, and Emma beams at him.

“I can’t have this conversation with either of you,” David groans. “You both have super human tolerance.”

“Is that so, Swan?”

Emma raises her beer toward him. “It is so,” she replies, smiling mischievously at him.

He chuckles. “Seems like you’re challenging me,” he mumbles.

She shrugs innocently, walking into the kitchen and retrieving a beer from the fridge. “Cheap beer work?” she asks.

He smirks. “It’s not rum, but it’ll do,” he replies.

Mary Margaret snorts. “Knowing Emma, there’s a flask of rum somewhere around this house.”

David chuckles lightly as Emma rolls her eyes. “Maybe,” she mutters, handing Killian the beer. He leans it toward her and grins.

“Cheers, love.” He stares at her is a way that is so disarming that she has to break eye contact, tapping the bottleneck to his before taking a long swig. She walks away immediately, unable to take the unnerving way that he seems to read her face more easily than anyone else in her life.

David observes them, making a weird hum under his breath that she decidedly ignores. “Okay, so I’m going to take a shower and get ready so that I can look presentable for the people that arrive,” Emma announces, leaving out the part where she just needs to put a physical wall between herself and Killian.

Mary Margaret chuckles. “Okay, Em… are you taking that beer into the shower with you?”

Emma shrugs, “I don’t see why not. I’ve got a lot of socializing ahead of me. I’ll need it.”

Killian laughs. “Besides, she’s gotta keep up with me tonight,” he cut in.

David claps a hand onto Killian’s shoulder. “It will probably be you keeping up with her, bud.”

Before Emma can hear his most likely charming response, she slips into the bathroom and turns the water on, sighing loudly when she can finally catch her breath.

Something about being around Killian and her family at the same time throws Emma for a loop. Because she loves the way he fits into her life seamlessly. And she can’t show that, because Mary Margaret and David will see right through her, and she doesn’t need the typical lectures that they tend to lovingly dole out. It’s always well intentioned, but it makes Emma feels so broken.

If anyone is aware that Emma has some serious issues, it’s her. Her family trying to psychoanalyze her just makes her feel guilty for things out of her control.

She stands under cold water first, silently counting to herself as she tries to pull herself together. Then she turns the faucet all the way to the left, the water suddenly burning her skin. She stands there until her skin turns red, and then turns the water off.

“Okay,” she whispers, staring at herself in the mirror. She quickly dries her hair and gets ready for the night ahead of her.

When she finally exits the bathroom, there’s a new beer sitting on the counter right outside the door. She looks around but Killian, David, and Mary Margaret are nowhere to be found. She allows herself to laugh quietly, bringing the beer to her lips before heading to her room to change.

Emma gets thrown around between David and Mary Margaret like a ping pong ball, both of them tugging her in different directions of her own home to meet their friends.

She smiles and does her best to make small talk, even though it’s never been her strong suit. This isn’t exactly her idea of a fun night, but it makes two of the most important people in her life very happy, so she sucks it up. After everything they’ve done for her in this life, she figures she owes them.

The best part of her night comes from Killian, which is irritatingly not surprising. While she gets stuck in several conversations with strangers, he sneaks behind her and replaces her empty beers with new ones. Most people don’t even notice the sneaky exchange, but she smiles and bites back laughter every time.

The fifth time he does this, she’s engaged in an awkward conversation with a kind man that goes by Archie. She meets Killians eyes over Archie’s shoulder, and he’s smirking at her knowingly from across the room. He raises his own beer toward her before returning to his conversation with Robin.

Finally, Mary Margaret and David are distracted enough in the corner of her living room that she can breathe. She makes her way toward Killian, who is staring down at his phone.

“If I didn’t know any better, Jones, I’d think you’re trying to get me drunk,” she says, and he jumps. He beams at her, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“I’m just trying to see who can outdrink who. Killian Jones never backs down from a challenge,” he says, his blue eyes dancing.

“I have an idea,” she says suddenly. He does that outrageous thing with his eyebrows that makes her stomach clench, but she does her best to power through. “Follow me,” she says.

He nods, “As you wish, love,” he says quietly, and she ignores the way his low voice makes her skin feel as if it’s on fire.

She looks around to make sure no one is looking, and when she’s satisfied, she opens her bedroom door and pulls him in with her.

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay, Swan, I have to say, I definitely think I’m holding my alcohol better than you if you’re already drunk enough to drag me into your bedroom.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes. “Shut up,” she muters. “I’m looking for something.”

“Is it your inhibitions?”

She doesn’t justify his question with an answer, reaching into her sock drawer, digging around the back until her hand meets something metal.

“A-ha!” she shouts, producing her flask from the drawer and waving it in his face. “I do have rum in here,” she says.

“I’m impressed,” he says, eyeing her carefully as she twists the cap on and takes a long pull. She squeezes her eyes shut as the rum burns her throat on the way down. She hands it to him and he takes an appreciative shot.

She smiles. “Hold onto that, would you. My pockets aren’t big enough,” she says, heading back to her door.

“We’re leaving already? I think we can find something to do in here, don’t you?” he questions, and his voice is teasing, but his eyes are dark.

“Come on,” she groans, putting her hands on his shoulders and half pushing him back out of her room. She pretends that the simple act of placing her hands on his body doesn’t send a chill down her spine. And she’s pretty sure he pretends not to notice.

As if her spidey senses are tingling, Mary Margaret sees them as soon as they exit her bedroom. Emma rolls her eyes at the look that crosses her sister-in-law’s face, shaking her head. Killian chuckles beside her and Emma sighs.

“Em!” David calls out, timing perfect as ever. “Come here, I want you to meet my sergeant.”

Emma bites back her groan, leaving Killian’s side to meet yet another face who’s name she will most likely forget by the end of the evening.

The night flies by like that, and she hardly gets another chance to talk to Killian. When she finally sees him again, the party is winding down and Emma is only slightly buzzed, the constant socialization very sobering.

She walks over to Killian, who is sitting on her couch talking to Robin again. “Hey guys,” she says, falling onto the couch beside him. She notices him tense slightly when her arm brushes against his, so she scoots away a bit.

“How are you liking it here, Emma?” Robin asks kindly, and Emma smiles politely. She’s only had to answer this question a dozen times this evening. But she’s aware they all mean well.

“I like it a lot. My neighbor is a little strange but that’s to be expected in a big city I suppose,” she says, and Killian scoffs from beside her.

Robin chuckles, “I work with the guy… you don’t have to tell me how strange he is.”

“Alright,” Kilian cuts in. “Enough of this.”

Emma giggles, and for the first time all night, she feels comfortable. She doesn’t think about how she feels most comfortable sitting beside Killian. Robin says his goodbyes and leaves.

She closes her eyes, resting her head back against the couch cushion.

“Thanks for making tonight bearable, Killian,” she says quietly. She hears him move, feels his arm against hers, and she opens her eyes, turning to find that he’s looking at her with soft eyes. “What?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name,” he says.

Before she can respond, Mary Margaret is back and she’s talking a mile a minute. Killian clears his throat, scooting away ever so slightly. His absence leaves her feeling cold.

The party comes to an end, and Killian leaves after a quick goodbye. She glances back at him when he leaves, sighing when the door shuts and she’s left alone with David and Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret seems to read her face, but glances at David and doesn’t say anything.

They clean everything up, and David and Mary Margaret end up falling asleep on couch. She smiles to herself when she looks at the couple, cuddled together. Then she locks the door, turns off the lights, and puts herself to sleep.

---///---

She can hear Henry rambling on and on from the top of the steps as she locks their door. She assumes he’s talking to Killian on his porch, and her heart pounds in anticipation.

She takes the steps down slowly, biting back her smile as she reaches the porch. She stops short when she sees a beautiful redhead speaking to her son.

“Oh, hi,” Emma says, and she doesn’t mean to sound short, but she can hear how clipped her tone is.

Her arms are full of brown bags filled with groceries. “Hi, hi,” she says, struggling to keep everything in her arms. “I’m just trying to help Killy. Sometimes I surprise him by leaving actual real groceries in his home. I know he gets busy, you know, but having real nutritious food in your kitchen makes life so much easier. Especially when he’s too good of a cook to not have groceries stocked up here. He says I’m overbearing but I think deep down he appreciates it.”

Henry laughs, taking a couple bags from her hands. Emma watches as the woman digs into her pocket and pulls out her keys, fishing out of the one for Killian’s front door quickly.

“Thanks so much,” she says to Henry once she swings the door open. “You’re a real gentlemen.”

Her son smiles, beaming at Emma as he follows her inside and sets the bags down for her. Emma stays on the porch, the idea of stepping into Killian’s apartment without him present making her feel strange.

Henry and the stranger walk back out to the porch and Henry readjusts his backpack. The girl smiles. “I’m Anna. You must be Killian’s new upstairs neighbor,” she says.

“Emma,” she says tightly. “This is Henry. I’m sorry, but we have to get to my brother’s. We are going to be late.”

“Oh, David? Ugh I love David. And Mary Margaret. Talk about a match made in heaven, right?”

Emma raises an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Yep, a real fairytale,” she says. “Nice meeting you,” she says before practically dragging a smiling Henry to her yellow bug.

“Why were you so rude to that girl?” Henry asks, but his tone is smug and knowing. Emma shoots him a look as she starts her car.

“I wasn’t rude, kid. We really are running late.”

“We’re always running late. What’s the big deal with today?” he asks. He’s staring out the window, trying to sound more casual than he actually is.

Emma laughs despite herself, swallowing down the irrational anger and jealousy as she pulls into traffic. “I just don’t want to hear it from them today, is all.”

“Sure,” Henry says breezily, not quite able to cover up the laugh in his voice.

---///---

Killian should not be surprised by the way his sisters-in-law both feel the need to insert themselves into his life, playing mother when he has never asked. He laughs when he walks into his apartment to find it stocked with groceries. He knows Elsa is out of town for work, so he falls down onto his couch before he calls Anna.

“Oh, hello Killy!” she greets happily.

“You know I’m capable of doing my own shopping, correct?” he asks lightly.

He can hear the smile in her voice. “Yes, I am. You know that I love you and just want to help you because I know your job is stressful and keeps you very busy, correct?”

“How’s Kristoff?” he asks, because he and Anna have had this conversation so many times it has honestly gotten old at this point.

“He’s good. How’s your neighbor?” she counters, her voice mischievous.

Her question gives him pause. “What do you mean?”

“I met her today when I was bringing in your groceries. She is stunning, Killian! And her son is adorable and kind.”

He doesn’t know why he gets so tense, but he does. “They’re both very nice, yeah,” he says vaguely.

Anna snorts. “Emma wasn’t very nice, actually. But I suppose she didn’t know I was your sister-in-law and therefore got a little jealous. I should have mentioned it, but it slipped my mind. I can relate though. Back in college, I saw this girl talking to Kristoff and I literally lost my mind. It was kind of crazy, since I had only just broken up with Hans. I had no right to be jealous and yet I was. Turns out, it was his cousin. Also, it turns out, you can’t control your irrational anger.”

Killian rolls his eyes. “Trust me, Emma was not jealous. She is just a little standoff-ish at first. She’s quite nice once you get to know her, though,” he says, because there’s no way she could have been jealous.

“Hmm, that sounds familiar,” she says innocently.

“Anna,” he groans, rubbing over his face with his hand in frustration.

She giggles. “What, I was talking about Elsa,” she says, but her tone says otherwise.

“Thanks for the food, Anna. I’ll see you and Elsa next weekend,” he says, and she laughs knowingly before she hangs up.

He left his front door open, the screen door closed, letting in the beautiful breeze. It also lets in the noise of Emma and Henry as they walk up the sidewalk.

“Mom,” he whines, and Killian feels affection well up in his chest.

“Henry,” she whines back mockingly. Her son giggles. “Listen, kid,” she says. “You’re right. I’m a big jerk. We’re going to move on and I’ll be better in the future.”

Killian raises an eyebrow, standing up to head out to his porch.

He swings the door open, and Emma’s eyes widen for a split second before she schools her features to her normal guarded look.

“Hey,” she says easily, although there is tension in her tone.

Henry clears his throat. “See ya later, Killian!” he says before heading upstairs to their apartment. Emma glares after her son’s retreating figure before returning her attention to him.

“How are you today Swan?” he asks.

She leans against the front of his porch, looking him over quickly. “I’m okay. How are you?”

“Good,” he says. He eyes her carefully, considers her tight smile and distant eyes. “I heard you met Anna earlier.”

“Yep,” she says shortly. “She’s great.”

Killian bites back his smile as he watches her cold eyes avoid his. Oh. Oh. She is jealous, at least a little bit. He wants to let this go on, but decides to let her off the hook. “Yeah. She’s intense but she’s my sister-in-law so what can you do?”

He knows he’s not imagining the way her shoulder slump with relief.

“Sister-in-law?” she asks casually.

He nods, full on smirking now. “I’ve got two of them, actually. They’re incredibly overbearing but I love them anyways,” he says.

She crosses her arms over her chest, smiling slightly. “Oh.”

“Is it possible that you were feeling a bit jealous?”

He’s grinning playfully at her, and she rolls her eyes, sending him a glare. “I have nothing to be jealous of.”

He nods. “I don’t know, love. You seem quite green with envy to me.”

“You wish,” she mumbles, adjusting her messenger bag on her shoulder and glancing at her front door, likely plotting her escape.

“Sorry to upset you, Emma, but you’re something of an open book.”

She finally does look at him, really looks at him, and her eyes are exploring his, searching for something. Whatever she’s looking for, she must find it, because she softens slightly.

“I wasn’t jealous,” she says, but it’s teasing now. “See you later.”

She opens her front door and that smile she sends him gives him the courage to reach for her upper arm. She stops, turning to look at him.

“Are you and Henry doing anything for dinner tonight?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Nothing more than mac and cheese on the couch, why?”

He shrugs. “I’ve got all these groceries. Why don’t you guys come down for dinner? We can enjoy it on the porch. It’s going to start cooling down soon.”

She smiles slightly. “You don’t have to cook us dinner.”

He shakes his head. “I know, but I’d like to.”

She sighs, pursing her lips together as she thinks. “What time?”

He claps his hands together happily. “Ah! I knew I could tempt you! It will be ready by seven, my lady.”

She shoots him a look of amusement, shaking her head. “You’re so weird, Jones,” she mutters, but he only smiles wider at her. She turns away, but she glances back at him before heading upstairs, and her eyes are dancing.

---///---

Henry only asks Emma about twenty questions about her and Killian, why he’s making them dinner, he must like her, and does she like him, he’s so cool, before she gets him downstairs by seven.

“Just--kid--stop asking these questions,” she says in a hushed tone as they stand outside his front door on his porch. “He’s just being nice.”

“That’s because he likes you, mom,” Henry whines, but the door swings open to reveal a smiling Killian before she can respond.

And he’s beaming at the two of them. “Ah, Swan! Henry! Just in time!” he practically shouts, and Henry rushes right past him, exploring Killian’s apartment as if he’s searching for hidden treasure.

“Wow, cool!” Henry says, pointing at a ship in a bottle that’s sitting on Killian’s mantle. “It’s like a pirate lives here!”

Killian barks a laugh at that, and Emma shakes her head at her son.

“Yeah, we’ve got a regular Captain Hook on our hands,” Emma deadpans, taking a step further into the apartment. Blacks, greys, and whites surround her. Photos of him with friends or family are framed around his living room, along with nautical themed decor. The place screams Killian, and it makes Emma smile without even realizing it.

He creeps up behind her. “I hope you guys like pasta carbonara,” he says before brushing past her. She tries to ignore the way goosebumps rise along the back of her neck when she feels his breath on her.

“Do you want me to set the table?” she asks, watching as he whizzes around his kitchen with ease. He shakes his head at her.

“I’ve got dinner all set up on the porch, love. You and Henry go sit, I’ll be right out.”

Henry runs out to the table on his front porch, and Emma only lingers for a few seconds, watching as Killian grabs water bottles from his fridge.

Henry’s smile is as bright as the sun when she sits down beside him. “Yeah, mom, he doesn’t like you,” he says, pointing at the beautiful spread on the table. There’s pasta, salad, and bread on the table, and Emma laughs when she looks up to see Killian with three water bottles shoved under his arm, a bottle of wine and two glasses shoved under the other arm. She stands up, grabbing the wine and the glasses from him to ease his struggle.

He smirks at her, watching her closely as she carefully sets down the glasses.

“This is too much, Killian,” she says, and her voice is much softer than she had intended.

He seems to catch the change in her demeanor, head whipping toward her to study her face. She feels warm under his gaze, so she looks over at Henry, who is already piling pasta onto his plate, smiling knowingly down at the table.

The dinner is delicious, and the company is even better. Killian and Henry joke back and forth about stupid things, sometimes poking fun at David, sometimes at Emma. Killian tells them of his love for the sea, how he actually has a boat that has a home down at the docks, how he’d absolutely love to take them out on the water.

It’s overwhelming, for Emma to feel so much ease around a man that makes her feel so…

What?

Alive? Scared? Excited?

She’s not quite sure yet, but it’s too much of something, it sets her on edge.

Or at least, it should. But sitting down, watching him converse casually as he scoops more pasta onto Henry’s plate, it’s almost--easy?

Emma looks over at Henry and smiles, watching as he tries to sneakily grab another piece of bread. “Hey,” she says, and his hand meets his side quickly. Killian chuckles while Emma shakes her head. “It’s a school night. Head upstairs, kid,” she says.

He smiles, jumping up and giving Killian a hug. The action takes him surprise, if the shock on his face is anything to go off of, but his arms circle her son quickly.

“Thanks for dinner!” he says, pulling away and kissing Emma on the cheek. “Night, mom,” he says, and without another word or glance in her direction, he’s running up the stairs in the world’s most obvious attempt to leave them alone.

Killian smirks at Emma, clearly reading the room correctly.

“He’s such a little rascal,” Emma mutters and Killian shrugs.

“He’s a smart lad is all,” he says, standing up to clear the plates from the table.

“Smartass, maybe,” Emma concedes, jumping up and taking the plates from Killian’s hands. “Please, let me clean up.”

“What? No, I won’t hear of it. I invited you to dinner, love,” he says, but when he reaches for the plates again, she takes a step back, leveling him with her hard stare.

“No,” she says firmly. “I’ll clean. You can pour more wine into my glass and wait out here, got it?” her tone conveys that there is no room for argument, so he sighs, holding his hands up in defeat.

It takes her ten minutes longer than necessary to clean everything up. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t linger inside to collect her thoughts before heading back outside. She strolls through his apartment slowly on her way to the porch, taking it all in. Her eyes catch on a photo on the mantle. She stops and walks closer, her heart warming when she sees the frame photo of Killian and David standing in front of Madison Square Garden, smiling happily at the camera. She sighs, and when she gets outside, she finds Killian sitting on the porch swing, sipping slowly from his own wine glass.

He smiles when he sees her, bright and so genuine, before holding out her wine glass. “Ah, Swan, at last! Come sit,” he says, and she slowly approaches him, setting into the spot beside him on the porch swing, thankful for the arm rest between them.

She looks ahead at the street, cars bustling by, even at ten at night, and she tries not to focus on the fact that she can feel Killian staring at her profile.

“Thanks for dinner,” she says, finally turning to look at him. His eyes are too soft, too understanding. “Where’d you learn to cook like that?” she asks, if only to start a conversation and hopefully get him to stop looking at her like… that.

He smiles fondly, if not a little sadly, and looks out at the street as well.

“My brother taught me, actually,” he says, his voice distant.

“What’s his name?” Emma asks, taking in the sounds of the city.

She’s lived in small towns, the countryside, big cities, but none quite like New York City. There is always noise, always people walking around, and always lights. Somehow, though, it’s become more of a comfort to Emma. Now, she can’t imagine going to sleep without the sounds she’s become accustomed to relying on.

“His name was Liam,” Killian says after a beat. She stops, turning to look at him again. His eyes are set firmly on her yellow bug that’s parked in front of the house.

“Was?” she repeats, because she doesn’t know what else to say.

He nods. “He died, about six years ago now. He was in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver. He died instantly,” Killian says, and Emma can almost hear the horrid memory in his voice.

“Killian,” she says, drawing in a sharp breath. He doesn’t respond. She reaches out to him, placing her free hand on top of his. He looks down at the hand, then at her. He examines her face, and she keeps her eyes on his for once, trying to convey her emotions without speaking. Trying to show him that there is no pity in her eyes, just understanding and support.

He nods. “It was long ago now, the wound isn’t quite as fresh but…” he trails off, seemingly searching for the rest of his sentence, when she finishes it for him.

“It hurts just the same.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Aye.”

She squeezes his hand once before returning it to her lap.

“You can tell me about him, if you want.”

So he tells her about Liam. About how their mother passed away and how their father turned to alcohol to soothe his pain. How Liam stepped up and took care of Liam, raised him to be an upstanding man. How he was the moral compass that Killian needed in his darkest hours. How he taught Killian how to cook a great meal, but how Killian was never quite able to make lemon bars anywhere near as well Liam could.

In return, she tells him about her life in foster care. In homes where no one cared about her, where was neglected, abused, and forgotten. And about how David befriended her in high school, and when he learned of her home life, or lack thereof, he and Ruth took her in without question.

He smiles at her, and she feels the warmth trapped in her ribcage spread from her toes to her fingertips.

“I’m no stranger to loss,” she says quietly. And he doesn’t ask for more, doesn’t pry at all. Just watches her, waits for more. She takes a sip of her wine before continuing. “Henry’s father, Neal, passed away a few years ago,” she confides.

He winces. “Swan, I’m sorry. Were you guys married?” he asks.

She shakes her head, a little to vehemently, she thinks. “No, no. We fell in love when I was seventeen. We were just kids. He wasn’t much in the picture after I got pregnant. He had a gambling issue, and just a sticking around issue, it seemed. But, when Henry was six, he got his life together, and he really showed up for Henry. He did his best to make up for lost time, really, and I was really happy for him.”

Killian reaches forward this time, just letting his hand settle softly on her knee, and her entire body feels alight.

“He got lung cancer. It all happened fast. About six months from the time of his diagnosis to the time that he died. That’s all.”

“Gods, Emma,” Killian breathes.

She nods. “After he died, I think I lost it, a little. It’s just, well, I didn’t know how to cope. I lost so much in my life before David came around and brought family and love into my life. And I didn’t want Henry to hurt anymore, but I didn’t know how to make that happen. We moved a bunch, and I never felt quite settled anywhere.”

Killian’s quiet for a minute, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. He’s processing. “And New York is another in the long line?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “No.”

He smiles slightly. “I’m glad to hear that.”

She sets her empty wine glass down on the porch, sighing.

“I’m glad you’re my neighbor,” she tells him, because she doesn’t know what else to say, and she doesn’t know how to convey how grateful she is that he just listened to her ramble with kindness in his eyes, but she has to say something.

“Emma,” he says, a little breathless, and she looks over at him. His face is different. His heart is truly on his sleeve when he reaches forward and brushes her hair behind her ear.

“What’s happening?” she asks.

He laughs. “Well, not to be presumptuous, darling, but,” he trails off, running his fingers slowly over his lips and smiling at her mischievously.

She scoffs, green eyes locked on his blue ones. The smug action should not be so charming, but, dammit, it really is. She can’t even fight the smile playing on her lips. “Please,” she breathes. “You couldn’t handle it.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, and it’s ridiculous, the things he does with those eyebrows, and how it constantly affects her.

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,” he practically purrs,

That’s all it takes for her to lean forward and catch his lips with her own. It’s awkward, at first, the wooden armrest between them lodged into her side as she leans forward, trying to get closer, one hand gripping at the collar of his shirt while the other finds its way to his hair. But when he groans with pleasure into her mouth, she forgets the pain in her side.

When she pulls his away, his eyes are open, free, and she sighs, resting her forehead against his for a minute.

“That was, uh--” his voice is hoarse, and she cuts him off before he finish.

“A one time thing,” she says sternly, backing away and standing up.

A look of hurt crosses his face as he processes her abrupt mood change. She can barely look at him, feeling like the coward she knows she is.

“It’s late, I should go,” she says, her voice shaking.

“Goodnight, Emma,” he says, his voice faraway, and she doesn’t spare him another look before she heads upstairs, where it’s safe and there is a considerable amount of space between them.

---///---

She spends the next two weeks guiltily rushing away from him every time they run into each other on the porch. He shoots her these knowing looks, and it gets under her skin, the fact that he clearly understands how scared she is. It would be better if he just looked mad or annoyed. But no, of course, Killian Jones is nothing but understanding and compassionate. And he really can read her, terrifying as that is.

When Henry tells Emma he’s going to a sleepover at a friend’s house, she makes it a point to call Mary Margaret and demand a girls night in. Because heaven forbid she spends the night alone above Killian Jones.

When she gets to Mary Margaret and David’s apartment, she lets herself in and calls out into the empty space. “I’m here, I’ve got wine, let’s start drinking… like, five minutes ago!”

She looks around, sighing, but smiles when she sees the door to her balcony cracked open. She heads out to see David, Killian and Mary Margaret all talking, sitting in the little chairs on the balcony. Emma stops short, fighting back a loud groan when Killian’s kind eyes reach hers.

“Hey, Swan,” he says easily, though he’s more reserved than usual.

“Hi,” she says, her voice scratchy to her own ears.

There’s a moment of silence, and neither David nor Mary Margaret feel the need to jump in and save them. The married couple just keep looking at each other knowingly, seemingly having an entire conversation without speaking a word.

“Okay,” David says finally, and Emma lets out an audible sigh of relief, much to Killian’s chagrin. “Killian, you ready to head out?” he asks, clapping his hands together awkwardly.

“Where are you guys going?” Emma asks as Killian stands.

“Poker night at Robin’s,” Killian says, and Emma nods.

“Have fun.”

David eyes Emma, and she looks away because no one knows her better than David, and she doesn’t want him to see right through her, like he always does.

They say their goodbye and move to leave the balcony, but David stops and places a kiss on Emma forehead. “You okay, Ems?” he asks quietly against her hair.

She nods, sending him a half-hearted smile before she pushes him toward the door lightly. He sighs and leaves with his friend. Emma groans, falling into the seat that Killian had just vacated, and glares over at Mary Margaret.

“They wouldn’t stop talking. They were supposed to leave a half hour ago, I swear,” Mary Margaret says. Emma just frowns, replaying the look in Killian’s eyes over and over in her head. “I’ll go get the glasses,” Mary Margaret says, and Emma nods, leaning back into her seat and closing her eyes.

Mary Margaret comes back with two glasses, and Emma wastes no time in popping open the wine bottle and pouring a generous amount into both glasses.

“I kissed him,” she mutters into her glass.

Mary Margaret smiles at Emma, the exact opposite reaction that Emma was hoping for. Also, the exact reaction she was expecting.

“Of course you did, Em,” she says softly. “You like him.”

Emma pouts, and Mary Margaret laughs. Emma stretches her legs out, glad she chose to wear jeans and sweatshirt, as fall was finally hitting full force and the temperature had dropped considerably.

“What’s so bad about kissing him? He’s a good guy, Emma. I know you can see that.”

“I just… don’t have time. And he’s my neighbor, I mean… when it all goes to hell, it’s going to be so awkward. Plus, Henry is really attached to him already, so I don’t want to ruin that either.”

“When it all goes to hell?” Mary Margaret repeats back, and then shakes her head in a way that can only be described as motherly.

“It always does.”

“Yeah, that’s how it works. Different relationships don’t last for varying reasons, until you’re in one that does work.”

Emma levels her sister-in-law with a look. “Says the girl that married her high school sweetheart.”

Mary Margaret laughs lightly at this, taking another sip of her wine. “My situation is very rare, and just a matter of dumb luck…” she trails off, considering her words. “And also, a matter of hard work. It wasn’t easy when we were in college, trying to figure out our paths, separately and together. We worked through it.”

Emma nods, remembering her years as Mary Margaret’s roommate, listening to the struggles of the couple navigating this new phase of life.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okay, tell me this,” she urges, taking a new approach. “What do you like about Killian?”

Emma groans, and she feels heat rush to her cheeks. “I don’t know, Snow. He’s kind. And he’s so good with Henry. He makes me laugh… but also… it’s weird. He just… sometimes, when he looks at me, it’s like we’ve known each other our whole lives.”

She can hear how cheesy her own words are, but she doesn’t know how else to explain her attraction to all things Killian Jones.

Mary Margaret beams, nodding. “Sounds pretty nice to me,” she says.

Emma pours more wine into her glass, decidedly ignoring her sister-in-law for a moment.

She continues, though. “Emma, it’s pretty obvious he’s half in love with already.”

That’s all it takes for Emma to choke on the wine she’s in the process of swallowing. Emma frowns, looking down at the spots of red on her grey sweatshirt, but Mary Margaret only chuckles in response.

“I know Killian pretty well. He’s one of the most decent men I’ve gotten to know. He also wears his heart on his sleeve, when it comes to the people he loves. His eyes scream I love Emma Swan every time you’re in his vicinity, or even when David or I bring you up around him. I know you’re frightened, Emma, but you know, being scared is a good sign. Sometimes, when something scares you, that means you need to go for it.”

She considers her words. She’s gotten enough pep talks from Snow in her lifetime that she expected this lecture. However, she didn’t expect to find it so convincing.

“You need to have a little hope, Emma. Sometimes, just believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a powerful thing. And no one deserve a happy ending more than you.”

“What if my happy ending really is just Henry and me,” Emma interjects, but the words lack the conviction she means for them to have.

“That’s fine, too. Just, don’t settle. Life is too short, and you know that to be true.”

---///---

Emma mulls over Mary Margaret’s words, but it’s still a week before she talks to Killian again. She actually has to ask David to send her Killian’s phone number, rolling her eyes when he follows up the text with no less than fifteen questions about why she needs his number.

The thing is, though, that Henry called Emma saying that he forgot his keys at home, and she knows that she won’t be home until nine due to a wedding that she’s catering. He’s on the bus home when he tells her this, and she panics, knowing it’s close to thirty degrees outside, and knowing that the kid most definitely ignored her when she told him to dress for the weather.

Mary Margaret and David are out of town for a romantic long weekend at a bed and breakfast in some sleepy down in Maine, and she doesn’t know who else to call.

“Hello?” his voice answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Killian,” she says, and she winces at the breathless sound of her voice.

There’s one second of silence that somehow stretches on for years before he responds. “Swan?” he asks, disbelief clear in his voice. “Are you alright?”

She smiles despite herself. “Yeah, yeah. I’m just stuck at work and Henry is going to be home any minute and he’s going to be locked out because he forgot his keys and I forgot to hide the spare so I was wondering, you know, if you’re home, and free, if you--”

He cuts off her run-on sentence. “I’m home. I’d be happy to entertain the lad in my home while you work, love,” he says.

She breathes out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Killian, really,” she says, hoping her tone conveys her gratitude.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says.

The line goes silent and she sighs. “I have to go back to work.”

“Of course,” he says, not unkindly. “See you later.”

She hangs up before she can say something stupid, like how much she misses him, and how much she needs to see him.

When Emma gets home, it’s nearing eleven o’clock at night, and she’s beyond exhausted. She knocks lightly on Killian’s door, trying to ignore the way her arm is shaking with nerves.

He opens the door after a moment, and it’s quiet inside. She looks past him to see Henry asleep on the couch, a red blanket tossed over him. Emma smiles at the sight, then looks at Killian, who is leaning against the doorframe looking criminally handsome in his flannel pajama pants and black t-shirt.

“Hi,” she finally says, and he smiles in response. “You’re my hero.”

He laughs, rolling his eyes as she moves to the side to allow her to enter his apartment. They walk quietly past the living room, back into the kitchen so they can talk freely. Her heart is pounding against her chest.

He turns to her, leaning against his counter. “What’s been going on, Swan?” he asks, his voice free of judgment.

She shakes her head, staring down at her shoes. “I’m terrified of you.”

She doesn’t need to look up at him to know that his gaze is intense and on her only.

“Am I frightening, love?” he asks, his voice a little teasing. She laughs, looking back up at him, and his face is kind. And lonely. “You know, I’ve missed your sass these past few weeks.”

She shakes her head. “I have more to offer than sass, Jones,” she mutters.

“Oh, believe me, I know,” he says.

She reaches into her messenger bag, pulling out the small tupperware. His brows knit together with confusion.

“I made you something… as a thank you, for watching Henry tonight.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Emma. It’s really no problem.”

She rolls her eyes. “They may not be as good as the ones your brother made, but Henry loves my lemon bars, so I thought I’d make you some.”

He stares at her like she just presented him with all the fortune and riches this world has to offer. He takes the box from her gingerly, staring down at it with wonder before setting his eyes back on her.

“This is very kind, Swan,” he says finally, his voice trembling slightly.

She shrugs, stepping into his space slightly. He doesn’t move closer, though, he lets her control the situation. “Killian, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry,” she sighs, fighting the urge to break eye contact. “The answer to your question… you do frighten me. It’s not your fault, it’s me.”

She stops, and he nods. “I knew you were scared, Swan. I’ve been trying to give you space.”

“Yeah,” she says, reaching her hand forward to rest lightly on his forearm. “Yeah, I noticed. What was that about me being an open book?” she asks, and he laughs quietly. “I just… I didn’t expect this.”

“Neither did I,” he agrees.

She takes the tupperware from him with her other hand, placing it on the counter behind him. “So, what now?” she asks after a beat.

He shrugs. “What do you want, Swan?”

His body surrounds her now, she’s left very little space between them. She searches his eyes for an answer to his question, and then she takes the leap. “I’d like to try something new,” she says.

“Really? And what’s that, darling?” he asks.

Her heart leaps at the endearment, and she doesn’t even bother trying to fight the smile on her face. “Trust.”

He laughs, full and joyous, and she leans forward to press her lips to his.

His hands tangle in her hair quickly, and she’s so happy that she laughs lightly into the kiss, and he responds in kind. He pulls away, pressing soft kisses to her nose, her cheeks, her forehead.

She’s giggling the entire time, and it feels like an out of body experience. She doesn’t know this Emma, this brave, terrified, thrilled Emma.

It’s his phone that interrupts them, and she jumps a bit at the sound. He rolls his eyes, pulling it from his pocket to silence it. She leans forward, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

“I missed you, too, Killian,” she admits, and he laughs, running his hand down her side, settling it on her hip.

They stand like that for a moment, and she pulls back slightly to kiss him once more when they’re interrupted again.

“Mom?”

She jumps away quickly, and Emma looks up to see Killian’s face turning red. She turns around to see her sleepy son staring at them with awe.

“Hey, kid, did we wake you?”

He just raises his eyebrows in disbelief, shaking his head. “Are those lemon bars?” he asks, looking past her to the container on the counter.

She rolls her eyes, and he just shrugs. “Save me some. I’m going back to sleep.”

With that, he turns around and Emma is staring at Killian, who is chuckling at the entire scenario they’ve found themselves in.

It’s only three months more of them getting to know every single thing about each other that he tells her he loves her. He whispers it into her ear one evening on the couch. And for the first time in a long time, her instinct isn’t to run. It’s too press her lips to his shoulder and tell him that she’s so in love with him, that he’s changed her life.

Three months after that, they decide it makes more sense for Emma to move in with him, and Henry couldn’t be happier when the new neighbors move in, giving him a new friend, Violet, to spend time with. Emma doesn’t miss the way his cheeks redden when the young girl waves at him.

And it’s hard work, sometimes. Emma has to learn how to really open herself up, to be truly vulnerable, but it’s worth it. It's the happy ending she never could have imagined for herself, but it's the one that eventually, she realizes, she deserves.

#once upon a time #Killian Jones #Emma Swan #Killian x Emma #Captain Swan #my fic #CS fic #cs ff au

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fallforcs · 6 years

Text

Game of Swans

Art by: @eastwesthomeisbest

Author: @hungrywhovianpotterheadfrom221b

Emma Swan is the heir to house Swan, set to inherit Seagrove castle, her family sigil is a swan with a bowed head, she is the eldest child of David and Snow Swan, Lord and Lady of Seagrove. She has always craved adventure, staring out to the sea beyond the palace walls, and wondering what lies beyond.

Killian Jones is the newly appointed Lord of Neverfall, the island fortress that has been passed from generation to generation, his house sigil is that of a butcher’s hook, gaining him the nickname from when he was captain to his father’s navy, of Captain Hook. He has grown world weary since the woman he was set to marry fell in the war that placed the current king upon the throne.

Rating: K+

Trigger warnings: Character death

A note for my readers: This is a Game of Thrones crossover, with mentions to characters from the series, but without any actually appearing. This is purely an A/U with Once characters.

Shout out to @ilovemesomekillianjones for being a lovely beta, and to the artist for sharing their talents with me.

Emma remembers the day that she was promised to the eldest son of Lord Brennan Jones, a neighboring lord.

He’d brought his boy into the castle. She had been running barefoot through the halls when Septa Ghorm caught her, she’d forced her into a tight corset, and silk finer than any she had ever worn, yanking her hair into odd shapes on her head, and pinching at her cheeks. Emma hated it. She had wanted nothing more than to get out of the silks and back into her riding leathers, so she could play with Graham the stable boy, in bare feet, with her hair sloppily pulled back into a braid. But Septa Ghorm would have none of that, she’d told her there was a visiting lord coming, and she must be presentable.

She’d grumbled under her breath how it never mattered before, let mother wear uncomfortable tight corsets, and silk, she wasn’t Lady yet. She was only ten, many years from such an awful fate as being forced to look pretty and fawn over the visiting lords.

Once she had been deemed presentable, Septa Ghorm, had nudged her out the door of her chambers, and towards the grand hall, where her mother and father would be hosting the lord of Neverfall. She had shuffled her feet along the halls, fighting having to go.

“Emmallie Swan, stop dragging your feet. It is not becoming of a lady to act in such a fashion. Straighten up, eyes forward, steps deliberate.”

Emma rolled her eyes, Septa was the only person in the castle that used her full name, others just called her Emma.

“Do not roll your eyes, I shan’t have you make me look incompetent. Now, remember to enunciate, no mumbling, and absolutely none of your grumbling and sighing young lady.”

Emma had let out one long drawn out sigh, making the Septa go a little red in the face, then straightened her back, affixed a neutral, if bored expression on her face, demurely smiled, and curtsied to her Septa, before walking into the grand hall. Septa Ghorm fell in step behind her, eyeing her like a hawk. Emma knew she would be getting a covert whack to the back if she acted unseemingly, so she carefully took to the steps, her silk skirts tight in her grasp, steps deliberate and careful, so she wouldn’t trip, and took her seat beside her mother.

Snow smiled at her daughter, “You look lovely, Emma,” she whispered, taking her daughter’s hand in hers and squeezing it gently. Emma marveled at the length of her mother’s fingers, a slender artistic ladies hands, next to her own clumsy and short hands.

Emma smiled at her mother and was about to respond, when the doors at the end of the room were opened, and four men walked in. The eldest of them, a greying man, taller than her father, with wild hair and deep blue eyes, was dressed in a lord’s clothes. A silver butcher’s hook with jewels in the handle pinned his cloak fast around his shoulder, and he wore a doublet with the same hook emblazoned on his right breast. Emma knew this must be Lord Brennan of Neverfall.

The other three were younger, a boy with curly brown hair framing a pleasant face stood beside the lord, his eyes were the same blue. He wore the same doublet and cloak, and a simpler jeweless hook on his right breast.She’d thought this must be his eldest son, standing a foot taller than the tallest of the other boys, his face was losing the childish roundness that hers still held, she would wager this boy to be about fifteen years in age, and he was staring at her mother with a confident smile on his lips. She didn’t like him.

The next tallest, seemed closer to her age, maybe two years older. His hair was less curly than the other boy, but his eyes were the same brilliant blue, although they seemed bored as he took in the tapestries hanging from the wall. Unlike his brother and father, this boy wore a linen shirt, buttoned with the top three undone, leaving a portion of his pale skin visible, and his doublet was hanging loose around his shoulders. Most likely his father hadn’t noticed his state. During her inspection of the boy who stood with his hands thrust deeply into the pockets of his riding trousers. his eyes looked up, and locked with hers. It sent a thrill down her spine when he smirked at her, and winked. Emma jumped a little before turning her eyes to the smallest of the three boys.

He was easily the youngest, appearing to be no older than the age of eight. With the same blue eyes, he was made up more like his elder brother, without the cloak, and badge, the only badge upon his person, was a patch on his right shoulder of the family sigil.

Her father’s squire cleared his throat, “Might I present Lord Brennan Jones, and his sons, Liam, Killian, and Illian.”

“It is an honor to have you with us, Lord Brennan,” her father greeted. “Allow me to introduce you to my family. This is my wife, Lady Snow, and my daughter Emmallie.”

Lord Brennan studied her, then nudged his eldest son, in her direction. Liam looked at her, and she felt none of the same shock as when her eyes had met with the middle brother, who stood to the back of the group, seeming to want to fade into the background. Liam’s eyes were gentle enough, and she could see him being a friend, so she smiled at him. She noticed him blush as he smiled back at her.

“My lady,” Lord Brennan intoned, inclining his head towards her mother, before turning to Emma,, “you and your daughter are as beautiful as they say.”

Snow smiled humbly, and nodded, “I thank you for your kind words, Ser” she responded, the hand still on Emma’s tightening subtly.

The greetings went on like this for a few moments more, the eldest of Lord Brennan’s boys, also speaking in greeting, the messy one with the bored eyes, said nothing, but he kept smirking at her, and winking. Feeling her Septa’s eyes bore into the back of her head, Emma didn’t respond with so much as a blush, instead looking dead ahead, and staring at the banner hanging from the wall over the door, emblazoned with her family crest. It felt like she was forced to sit in the uncomfortable high-backed chair for hours, her back stiff, eyes glued to anything but the messy boy with the jewel blue eyes. She almost let out a sigh when father told the other lord that he would have chambers prepared for him, and his sons, and that eve they would feast in the hall.

Once propriety allowed, Emma got up, the door still closing behind the lord and his three boys. She stretched, letting out the loudest sigh she had ever let out, and declared herself bored.

Septa Ghorm made a small sound, close to a growl, at the same time her father laughed deeply, and offered to take her riding before the feast.

“Yes please, father!” she answered excitedly. Riding with her father beside her, the wind in both of their hair, was something that they had always enjoyed. It was how they connected, how they communicated. She would always cherish those moments, with the wind in her hair, her father, and the horses’ hooves on the hard packed earth.

Emma’s smile was so wide, it didn’t leave her face all afternoon or evening. Even though her legs were sore from riding her horse, still she smiled. Even as Septa Ghorm tugged and pulled at her hair again before the feast, grumbling about how her lord father shouldn’t be allowing her to do such things with visiting lords, her smile didn’t fade.

It wasn’t until she was seated at the feast, and the curly headed Jones boy was seated beside her, that Emma’s smile began to fade. It fell even further, when after the feast, as her Septa and Mother were preparing her for bed, her mother told her the worst thing possible.

“You’re going to marry that boy, one day,” her mother whispered, hands on her shoulders, and a completely misplaced look of pride on her face.

Emma felt a hard pearl of anger and despair coil in her stomach as she tried to come to terms with what her mother told her.

~~GOS~~

Emma spent the ensuing years being shuttled back and forth between her home, where she enjoyed rides with her father at Seagrove, and the dark cold halls of Neverfall.

Years spent trying to force a connection between her and Liam, years where she grew into a young woman, closer to the day they would stop speaking of marriage and start planning a wedding.

Her only solace in the confines of Neverfall she found, was the conversation she would engage in with the younger two brothers of the Jones family. She grew to think of Illian as a younger brother, as for Killian, he was a trusted confidante, she could tell him anything, and he her.

It was how she learned of the woman he wished to get his father’s blessing to marry. Milah, she never did meet the woman, only felt a fierce jealousy of the woman who caught the eye of by far the wildest Jones boy. She oft found herself wishing that when her mother and father put together the arrangement they had put her with the middle of the sons, instead of the stuffy eldest.

How did she explain Liam? He was kind, and generous, but distant. You get him talking about his younger siblings, he’d talk for hours, and he could speak at great length about sailing and what knots to use when. Otherwise it was silence, they would walk through the gardens of Neverfall, and not say a word. She would point out the flowers, and he would make a noise. She would tell stories of her childhood, he would tell her nothing about his. After the third month, she gave up, and they walked in silence. When she’d known him for three years, she knew no more about him than she had when she was first brought there, except that he loved his younger brothers.

She was on her way home to Seagrove when the soldiers came. Liam was escorting her home, as they would be married soon, it was his duty. That was the only reason, she figured, he couldn’t possibly feel anything for her, he never so much as spoke to her. The horses hooves on the packed road along with the chatter and joking from the men that rode with them, was the only noise. She knew better than to try and speak to the young man riding beside her, she wondered what the response would have been this time, a noncommittal grunt? Perhaps a shrug?

The birds around them suddenly took to the air, and Liam pulled his horse to a stop, Emma followed suit, as the sound of a thousand men came through the forest around them. The rattle of chainmail, and the whinny of horses. Emma’s heart was pounding as Liam signaled to pull the horses to the side of the road, let the other men pass, he signaled, be on guard was left unspoken.

When the horses and men came into view, Emma recognised the bowed swan sigil on their shields, and the banners they carried. She felt a smile on her lips before the thought struck her as to why her father’s men would be marching down the Kings road, heading towards Kings Landing, and why they looked ready for a fight. A coil of worry formed in her belly at the sight. They had been sailing for a few days, what had they missed?

That was a fear that seems so small, looking back.The commander of the garrison had sent four men to guide them home, where her mother had told her what happened. The Kingdom was at war, and the banners had been called. Her father and the lords of the North and the Eyrie had ridden for Kings Landing to end the reign of Aerys Targaryen.

She remembers it all so clearly, especially since it was the last time she ever saw Liam Jones. He had vowed to fight alongside her father, and then did something that she would remain shocked about for years. He had taken her in his arms and vowed to return for her, before pressing a long lingering kiss to her lips.

Absently, as she thought of it, Emma brought her fingertips to trace her lips, that had been four years past. She had learned when her father returned to Seagrove with the winds of winter on his heels, that Liam had perished in the battle where Robert Baratheon won the crown. That he had been with the kind boy when he took his last breath, and that he had given her father the badge he wore on his cloak, in the shape of his family sigil, as a token for the life they would never have. It was then that she learned that he had truly come to care for her, when she was bemoaning the fact her parents had not set her to wed his brother.

The brother that now held the lordship of Neverfall, as both his brother and father had found the end of the battle to be the ends of their lives. He was left in the drafty island fortress, raising the youngest of the siblings, alone. Even the woman he loved had died, she had been on a merchant ship that carried provisions for the Targaryen army, and now rested below the waves of the ocean.

That information had been in the last raven sent to her from the place that had become a second home to her. It denounced any alliance between their families, as his father had fought with the Targaryens, and his brother against. It was even rumoured that it was one of her father’s men who cut down proud Lord Brennan. She’ll never know for sure.

She looks back down at the letter in her hands, an invite, or a summons, however she chooses to look at it, from the king. Her father has taken ill, and is unable to take to his horse, and her mother refuses to leave his side, leaving it to Emma to answer the summons. She is to go to Kings Landing as the representative of her house, the queen is with child, and she is to attend for the child’s birth, and the following feast.

Emma has never been to the red keep, it’s only a week’s ride, yet she had never gone with her lord father when the summons had come before. She is set to depart on the morrow and is hesitant to leave her father with the way his health has declined, but she’s also excited to be on the roads and breathe in the early spring air, winter is finally receding, and the subtle hints of the coming summer are in the air.

Emma watches as the Maesters tend to her father and she feels a ball of tension form, will she ever see him healthy again? Or is she to be acting as the Lady of Seagrove until her brother comes of age? With a sigh, she folds the letter and mounts the steps to inform her parents of the preparations, and bid them farewell before she embarks to Kings Landing for the birth of the new royal.

~~GOS~~

Traveling is hell, Emma forgot just how much she hated it. The smell of horses, and of course the smell of unwashed men.

Honestly she doesn’t understand why they don’t bathe, the river runs alongside the King’s Road, she has made sure she keeps herself clean, if only the men with her had the same thought.

Emma and her men have been on the road for two days now. The sun beats down on them during the day, making the slight early summer chill feel less prominent, while the clear cloudless nights have her wrapping herself in furs to fight the bitter cold.

She much prefers to travel by sea. Emma feels a pang for the years when she made the trip to Neverfall, she never cared much for the place itself, but it had still become a second home to her. Or it was until Killian denounced all ties to her family. She sighs, her breath creating a small cloud as the setting sun allows the air around her to drop to its near winter coldness.

She never did get the story behind his anger, why his last letter held such animosity in its words. She remembers reading the words with disbelief running through her, how he had grown so cold as to completely deny that they meant something to one another, one passage of the personal letter he sent to her, stands out in her mind.

I suppose it must be liberating, to finally be free of my brothers “dull” company. Not to mention how you must love not having to make the “awful” trips to our castle any longer.

The man who wrote that letter wasn’t the boy she knew. By the time the war had ended, he had been named captain of his father’s navy, and then Lord of his father’s lands. She should have realized sooner that the war torn man who wrote such cold and cruel words was all that was left of the mischievous little boy who had chased her through the halls of Neverfall.

She knows that soon they will call to make camp, and she will finally be able to dismount her horse and stretch her aching legs. The mere thought has her eyes drifting shut in bliss. The ship that used to ferry her to Neverfall didn’t leave her this sore, a touch nauseous from the constant movement in the first few trips, but even that faded with time.

She was brought up short when her men halted around her, and she saw the banners waving by the docks. She hadn’t noticed when they entered the Baytown, but what truly shocked her was that the banners being flown by the men disembarking the ship bore the sigil of house Jones, the butcher’s hook, like the badge that hung on a chain around her throat.

Emma hadn’t expected the reclusive island Lord to stir for a summons from a king he fought to keep from the throne, yet it seems that even Lord Jones had ventured out. Or at least sent someone in his place, likely young Illian, though the boy was near grown now, he wasn’t much younger than herself or his brother, he was seven all those years ago in her castle, looking like a lost little boy in the foreboding halls.

“We’ll stop at an inn this eve” Jiminy informs her, as he pulls his horse up alongside her.

Emma smiles at the thought, it won’t be as comfortable as her bed back at Seagrove, but it is certainly an improvement from the hard ground.

She can already taste the warm food, and is eager to escape the wind. It’s the only thing that pulls her mind from the thoughts of her childhood trips to Neverfall, and the blue eyed boys that were her only company there. Emma guides her horse back to the path, and off towards the inn at the crossroads ahead.

~~GOS~~

It’s been ages since he’s come to the mainland and the smell of the small village that they have made land in is thick and cloying, horse shit, food from vendors, unwashed men, and other smells he’d rather not learn the source of. Traveling to the Red Keep for the King’s child to be born is the last thing he wishes to do. He would much rather have taken the expedition in the opposite direction, find the lost heirs of the Targaryen family, put right the wrong that has been done them.

It makes his blood boil, the thought of the Kingslayer’s blood one day seated on the Iron Throne. Yet when a king puts forth a summons, one does well to not ignore. Around him, his men unload supplies from the ship, and pack them into wagons and carts; one part supplies for the road, one part gifts for the unborn royal and it’s family.

He sits perched on a keg of fine wine, a gift from the vineyard located on the island that Neverfall resides on. It is said Neverfall wine is the sweetest wine you’ll ever drink, he wagers that to be true, seeing as it is the only wine he has ever drank. He never trusted the vintages that were sent to him from other lords.

He has kept his contempt for the new King, and his false lords as no secret. The true king resides across the narrow sea, just a boy, yet Viserys holds more of a claim than the child in Cersei Lannister’s womb.

It will always be a sore spot for him, the fact that his brother was slain fighting for the wrong side in that blasted war, and what for? Some green eyed child who never returned his affection? Emma … She is the only thing he regrets about making his stance after the war ended.

He was so angry with her when his brother died, though less angry than he was when he learned it was his own brother who ended his Father’s life, and one of his father’s own men who sent the sword through Liam in the name of the true king.

He remembers when his brother told him how he felt about Emma Swan, he also remembers the burning jealousy he felt when he heard the words in truth.

“Brother,” Liam called softly, entering the library where Killian went to read, and write in the journal his mother gave him before she died “Father and I have just returned from the mainland, I have much to tell you”

Killian rolled his eyes, and looked up from his writing. “What is it brother?” Liam always came home with stories, it made him mad that father never took him and Illian to the mainland. Since Liam was the heir he was always going. The older Jones didn’t know how much it hurt the younger boys that father always took him with to the mainland.

Killian had only been once, when father took them to meet Lord Swan, and his enchanting daughter. Emma Swan was probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, golden hair and emeralds for eyes. She was only a year his younger, so he hoped to one day be her groom.

Liam’s grin was infectious, drawing Killian from his thoughts. “I’m to be married, brother!” He declared, happily. “I’m to marry the most beautiful lady in the seven kingdoms.”

Killian raised an eyebrow at his brother, this news was unlikely. The most beautiful lady, had already been claimed by him, his brother couldn’t possibly marry her.

“Do you remember, when we went to Seagrove, brother?” Liam asked, perched on the corner of the desk.

Killian was confused, was there another lady in Seagrove? He nodded.

“Father has arranged for me to wed the Lady Emma.”

Killian felt as though he had been punched, what right did father have, to take her from him? Granted he had never told father of his attraction to the neighboring lord’s daughter. It doesn’t make sense though, Liam was three years his elder! Emma was much better suited to Killian.

Liam grabbed hold of his shoulders and Killian realized that his brother had been talking still. “She’ll be here within the month, father has made all of the arrangements. She shall spend two months here, fostering under his care, and I shall escort her home at the end of it. I knew when I saw her, I would marry her, brother,” Liam mused.

That was years ago, a year after that, the girl his brother loved so, had implanted herself farther into his heart, to the point that he would moon over every word she would say, even as she declared how she held no love for his noble brother. How she would rather marry a stable boy than be tied to his older brother. He knows he should have felt anger towards her for making such claims, should have told her that his brother loved her, that Liam had been unsure of how to tell her his feelings.

So when he died for her, Killian had no choice but to redirect his anger.

Instead of blaming the Lord that killed his king for starting the war that left him Lord Neverfall, he took it out on the family that was almost his, and the woman he truly loved. He still remembers Milah, the girl he was going to marry. Dark hair and sharp wit, he had felt stirrings in his heart, so he asked her to marry him, because he would never have the love he truly wanted.

Then even Milah died, and left him alone once again. So he sent the raven for Seagrove, a letter that he almost lost the nerve to send. There are still days he regrets breaking ties with Seagrove, and in turn Emma. But then he remembers his brother and the man in his own army bragging of how he felled the man who killed his father. He thinks of how he had gutted the man, when he learned of his brother’s and father’s fate.

Now here he is in a small village that Liam made landfall on the last time he disembarked a ship, they will sup at the town inn, and go the rest of the way by horse come morning. Killian can’t wait to return home.

~~GOS~~

Emma is enjoying her hot stew, her men around her drinking, and singing loudly. It is such a familiar sight, she cannot help but smile. Leroy is on a table singing her family song, “The Maiden of the Sea” a flagon of ale clutched in his hands. The song and voice are familiar, even if the setting is not.

“… head bowed in grief for those she lost, wings blocking the moon, if you are loved she won’t give up until she does find you…”

The tale of the great swan that Emma’s family took their name from would always be a favorite of hers. Her smile fell however when the next song began, a tale of grief, of father fighting son, a story of a boy who went to war for his love, only to never return.

She looks down into her bowl, mind once again wandering to the boy she never got the chance to love, and the one she is sure she always would.

Killian , she wonders what would have happened if she and Liam had actually married… would they have remained close? Would he have married his Milah?

These are questions that will forever remain unanswered, she isn’t sure what is making her mind dwell on the boys she hasn’t seen in years.

With the turn of her thoughts, Emma finds she is no longer hungry. Pushing her bowl away, she rises with the intent to retire to her bed for the night.

As she stands, the door of the inn opens and a group of men from the docks come in, being led by a familiar man with slowly widening blue eyes.

Emma falters as the years seem to melt away, and she’s a ten year old girl once more.

Her hand drops to the table, as the air rushes into her lungs. It feels like the first breath she has been able to take in years, “ Killian …” she breathes out softly.

~~GOS~~

Exhaustion drives him towards the inn, he has been avoiding the noisy rat infested hole as long as he could.

Killian would rather be spending the night on his ship, the rolling waves beneath him. This would have to do however. He draws closer, hearing a song being sung within the thin wooden walls. A scowl spreads across his features as he hears a line about a valiant soul taking arms against blood for the woman he loved. A song he heard sung once at Neverfall, and never heard again when he threw the minstrel into the dungeons for slandering the late Lord of Neverfall.

The Westerosi Lords like to paint his brother as a brave man striving to save his bride from a wicked king, and his father as a man who would destroy his own son before he would see him happy. The songs about that battle make him sick. He almost turns to go back to his ship, but stops himself, knowing he will need to hold his head high through worse once they arrive in King’s Landing.

He’s considered as little more than a false Lord in their eyes, a man who refuses to bend the knee for a king he does not approve of. He grits his teeth, and pushes through the door, the first things he sees are the bowed swan heads on shields lined along the walls. Ser David’s men, the Lord himself likely about somewhere. He feels a pang in his heart at the thought of facing the man after all of these years. Then he looks up, and he sees her.

Emma.

Killian’s eyes soak her in, she’s more beautiful than he remembers. Emma’s eyes widen, the dark emeralds glittering in the candlelight, her golden hair even longer than he’s used to, drawn back into a braid. Her lips form a word, and he strains to hear it, his heart stuttering when she whispers his name from across the crowded room, that’s fallen silent.

After a moment the chatter and clash of utensils resume, thankfully though, the singing doesn’t.. He finds his feet moving him towards her, thousands of things he wants to tell her on the tip of his tongue. He’s brought up short, as a memory floods in, words he wrote so many years ago, buried in rage and grief.

“Consider this the end of our alliance, though I suppose it must be a relief to you, considering you never truly loved my brother. This will be the last you hear from me. It must be liberating.”

These were a mere fraction of the things he wrote, the end result was words that are forever etched in his brain. She wouldn’t wish to speak with him, probably hates him

Even as he thinks it, Emma takes a step forward, “My Lord,” she greets timidly. “It has been a very long time.” Her voice is entirely level, even though her bright eyes tell a different story.

“Aye, that it has My Lady. Not since King Aerys sat the throne.”

She extends a hand to him, and he takes it, bowing to press a kiss to her delicate skin which is warm under his touch.

When he looks back into her eyes, he sees a storm of emotion burning behind them.

Emma nods before gently pulling her hand free. “What brings you out from Neverfall?” Her question is clearly just to fill the sudden tense silence.

He smirks, “I wager the same thing that brings you from Seagrove. Unless you travel to see a suitor?” he asks, regretting it the moment the words leave his mouth.

Her lips draw into a hard line, her eyes cooling until they resemble steel. “If that were the reason for my travels, it would be no business of yours. As it is not however, we are on towards King’s Landing, in the place of my Lord father.”

Killian nods, unable to fight the leap his heart takes at the news that she is unwed, and unclaimed. “I meant no offense My Lady-” he starts.

Emma stops him, “I’ve grown tired, the road has been long, and I believe I shall turn in for the night. If it please you of course.” There is ice in her tone as she steps back from him.

Just like that she’s gone. He’s mucked it up again, just like when he sent that raven all those years ago. Only this time her ire is known and not imagined.

Killian runs a hand down his face, before he looks around to note that all singing has stopped, and the men of house Swan stare at him in shock. With a growl, he moves to the innkeep and sees about getting a bed for the night.

~~GOS~~

It is hours later when he hears footsteps outside the small room he has rented. He sits up from his bed, he has been having problems sleeping with the knowledge that she is here. Killian spies candlelight under and through the cracks in the wooden door.

Slipping out of bed silently, he moves to follow the light. He pads softly to the door and opens it as the candlelight slips around a corner. Curious, Killian slips from his room and follows, finding Emma at the counter where a half loaf of bread sits, she is slicing off a piece.

“Well…” Killian begins, resting his shoulder on the wall. Emma jumps. “This is quite familiar. I remember sneaking to the kitchens with you when we were younger, because you never ate enough at dinner, and were hungry later.”

She sighs, setting down the bread she turns to look at him. “As I recall, it was you that told me there were sweets in the kitchens at all hours. I don’t see how my love for chocolate had anything to do with my lack of eating at dinner.”

“Aye, it was me, at the behest of my older brother, who noticed you weren’t eating.”

A frown appears on her face at that. “Liam noticed that?”

Killian’s smile is pensive. “Aye, my brother never said much, but he noticed and felt everything.”

Emma looks to her hands. “I know, that’s why I have felt so guilty all these years.”

“Because you didn’t love him?”

“Because I couldn’t love him!” Emma’s voice cracks on the last word, and he sees tears in her eyes. “I couldn’t love him the way he loved me.”

Killian is about to argue when she continues.

“I already loved someone else.” She looks to the ground, fingers plucking at her silk skirt as she drops to the bench in the darkened inn, the silence is suddenly deafening.

Killian stops where he is, a lump forming in his chest as she speaks. He imagines the stable boy she always spoke of when they were children, was this her love? “I see,” he speaks slowly, “yet you let him believe that you loved him, you never told him how you felt?”

Emma scoffed. “Yeah, that would have gone over great. Tell me, how do you tell the man you are to marry, that you cannot love him, because you already gave your heart to his brother?” she asks, her eyes filling with tears. “I couldn’t love him, because I already loved you.”

Killian doesn’t know what comes over him in that moment, he rushes forward, arm going around her, pulling her to him, his lips crashing into hers. For a moment he fears he’s made a mistake, then her arms come around him, her lips moving in tandem with his.

It’s more than he’s ever imagined, the taste of her lips a sweet yet savory blend, her skin soft under his thumbs as he strokes her cheek. He pulls away, eyes hooded as he looks up her. She looks wrecked, her lips slightly parted, eyes half closed.

“That was…” he began, his thumb tracing her lower lip.

Emma’s eyes open, “Long overdue,” she finishes for him.

Killian smiles at her. “I was going to say amazing, but aye, long overdue… much like what I’m about to tell you.” His hands cup her cheeks and he leans in close, her breath tickling his cheeks. “I love you, and I always have. I cannot say how much I envied my brother when you were his. All I ever wanted was you.”

This time, it’s Emma that closes the distance between their lips.

#ffcs 2018 #fallforcs #fall for captain swan #blinddate with a fanfic #game of throwns au #companionwayotter #game of swans #cs ff #cs ff au #hungrywhovianpotterheadfrom221b

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michaelmyersmalewife · 5 years

Text

LEVIATHAN | 7. The Chase | MASTERLIST

words: 5k+

A/N: just a heads up i'll be leaving for a short vacation this friday which means the next chapter is gonna be posted on thursday !! and im coming back monday so next week's update might be a little late anyway thank u for reading!!

you can also support this fic on wattpad & ao3

Elena sat in her quarters, a metallic shock blanket draped over her shoulders.

The past few hours had been rife with shouting and tears - on both ends. Madison and Elena at odds with Emma and the Controller. If not for their irreplaceable abilities, she was sure he would've ordered them shot dead. After being dropped back into the cramped dorms in the ship by an oddly sullen Regulator, Elena and Madison had been alone for what felt like ages.

The kid sat alone on her cot, facing a wall with her knees drawn up to her chest. She could only imagine what was going through her mind. Madison hadn't spoken much since Antarctica, but no one on the ship were exactly in a talking mood after...that.

It was painful to think about. Though she had been put under for a majority of the ordeal, she had spent nearly all of it wrestling with the split consciousness of a megalomaniacal dragon, trying with all her might not to get swallowed by their all-encompassing will. If control was nearly impossible with the titans she encountered in the past, it was unthinkable with them.

Then there was her mother, Emma, who had been escorted out of the room by the Controller's men a while ago. Her excuse was that she needed to make "tweaks" to the ORCA, but she doubted that. It was still hard for Elena to understand what exactly went down back at the base (even after both side's admittedly biased explanations) but from what she could gather, there had been some sort of betrayal. Madison's attitude said that much. And from the way that scaly bastard was acting after their release, she doubted anything good could come from that ORCA. She scowled.

That was another problem entirely. The Controller had said they only wanted to "take back their property" but they seemed to be doing the opposite. They were following them - that monster - from a safe distance. Though, there was no such thing in Elena's mind.

She could still hear them, their cackling. They weren't exactly the happiest about their welcoming party, but their giddiness over their newfound freedom wasn't comforting either. Anything that made that thing feel the slightest hint of joy was bound to be something awful for everyone else. Before Madison's intervention, she had just begun to glimpse their forms manifesting within the headspace, adorned with lightning and sickly yellow storm clouds. The image of their eyes - burning with malice and staring at her like she was some sort of plaything - would be branded in the back of her mind for the rest of her life.

"Do you..um," Madison shifted in her seat, turning to look at Elena. "You knew what that place was, right?"

She knew she wasn't talking about Outpost 32. She nodded. "I'm sorry you had to experience it like that." She looked down at her hands, at the lines that ran through her palms. "If done right, it can be amazing. Beautiful, even."

She found a slight, nostalgic smile growing on her face. It took her back to her childhood, when she innocently held hours-long conversations with the radioactive lizards and giant insects under Monarch supervision. She wasn't used to remembering when going into the headspace was fun, when it didn't hurt. "But if done wrong..."

Madison looked at the floor, resting her chin on her knees.

"I don't know what I saw. It was..scary." she said, shifting her head to the side so that she could look at Elena. "But it also felt familiar? Like someone had dropped me in the middle of the ocean, but I just kept sinking until I hit the bottom."

"There was a voice too," Madison outstretched her arms before her, looking at her hands as well. "It wasn't as scary as that sinking feeling, it helped bring me out of it actually. But I couldn't really tell who it belonged to. It didn't sound like my mom. Or you."

A small, barely noticeable smile appeared on Elena's face. "I think I might have an idea."

Madison cocked her head to the side in confusion, brows scrunching together before realization dawned on her face. "No way."

Elena nodded.

"But he's supposed to be one of the good ones right? Why did I feel so...out of control?"

"Control doesn't depend on whether a titan meets our standards of 'good' or not. I wouldn't even call it control, really. It's more of a two-way street. In that place, you're on equal ground. At least, that's how it's supposed to be."

Elena pulled the blanket closer around her.

"These people don't understand..they never will." she leaned back, resting her head against the wall behind her. "It's not like your mom's ORCA, can't be used like some machine - can't use others like a machine. That's not the point, never has been."

"It's something you feel. A connection." Without realizing, her hand hovered over her heart.

Madison considered her words, becoming deep in thought.

"You keep using that word."

"It's the only way I know how to describe it. That's what that place is for - connecting. But I guess it's just human nature to twist something like that into something ugly."

_____

Keeping track of Godzilla wasn't much of a problem.

In the past he hadn't been bothered by the submarines and drones in his wake, trailing after him like a school of remoras. And he didn't seem to mind now. Jodie often found herself wondering how they fit into his world. Did he think of them as part of his pod, like a whale? Or did he think of them the way sailors thought of seabirds circling their boats like bothersome scavengers?

Whatever it was, she didn't have time to dwell on it before Graham pulled up a global map and traced a path depicted on it with her finger.

"Godzilla appears to be following the same path as Emma's Osprey, heading north over South America to here." she zoomed in to a small island. "Outpost 56 in Isla de Mara, Mexico. We touch down in ten minutes."

It was a small island in the Gulf of Mexico, not far from the mainland. The satellite map depicted a dormant volcano with what appeared to be a base built near its mouth.

But Isla de Mara wasn't the only outpost Monarch was worried about. At least 6 other outposts seemed to be compromised. Thailand, Sudan, Brazil, Germany, North America, the list went on. Even Skull Island wasn't immune from the chaos.

Was Emma really about to release the titans in those outposts too? Sure, she'd always had a great deal of respect for them - liked them, even. Jodie could relate. But she wasn't a terrorist. She knew in the back of her mind that if she was doing something like this, she had to have a damn good reason.

"What about the people?" Mark asked.

"I-I'm sorry?" Graham said.

He pointed to the sleepy coastal village near the volcano. "The people - the ones in that town down there who don't realize they're gonna be the special of the day."

"Foster's already sent G-Team to evacuate as many as they can." Jodie said.

Suddenly, a bridge officer's voice cut through the conversation. "Dr. Serizawa, we have a call on the emergency channel - from Isla de Mara."

"Answer it." he said.

Emma Russell filled the screen, standing alone in what looked like a plain white room. Every pair of eyes in the bridge was trained on her, the air was heavy with trepidation.

"I suppose I should go first," she said.

"Where's Madison?" Mark snapped.

After briefly closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she glanced somewhere beyond the screen. "She's fine, Mark. Trust me."

"Trust is a little hard to come by, Dr. Russell," Foster interjected. "Especially after what you pulled."

"I know," she tiredly rubbed her eyes. "And I can only imagine what you're all thinking. But if there were any other way to do this, I would."

"Do what, Emma?" Mark demanded.

Jodie couldn't understand how she could remain so calm knowing she had all that blood on her hands. It took all of her self-control not to interrupt the discussion.

"I'm saving the world." she said, not a hint of irony in her voice.

"By releasing those monsters? That doesn't make sense!"

"As impossible as it seems, it does. Hear me out." she said. The Argo was silent.

"After we lost Andrew, I swore his death would not be in vain. That I would find an answer. A solution to why the titans were rising. But as I dug deeper, I realized that they were here for a reason and that despite all the years we spent trying to stop them, we never dared to confront the truth."

"What truth?"

"Humans have been the dominant species for thousands of years and look what's happened - overpopulation, pollution, war. The mass extinction we feared has already begun. And we are the cause. We are the infection."

Jodie turned away from the screen, crossing her arms. Despite her gut instinct telling her she shouldn't believe a word, she found herself agreeing with her.

"But like all living organisms, the Earth unleashed a fever to fight this infection - its original and rightful rulers - the titans. They're part of the Earth's natural defense system, a way to protect the planet. To maintain its balance. But if governments are allowed to contain them, destroy them, or use them for war, the human infection will only continue to spread. And within our lifetime, our planet will perish, and so will we. Unless we restore balance."

"And what's gonna be left?" Jodie finally interrupted. "A dead world overrun by titans?"

"No, Mrs. Lennox, the exact opposite."

The feed cut to a time-lapse video of the ruins of Honolulu, San Francisco and Las Vegas, transforming from desolate wastelands to sanctuaries overrun by plant life.

"Just like how a forest fire replenishes the soil, or a volcano creates new land, we've seen signs that these creatures will do the same. Wherever the titans go, life follows - triggered by their radiation. They are the only thing that can reverse the destruction that we started. They are they only guarantee that life will carry on. But for that to happen, we have to set them free. We have to reconnect."

"You're murdering the world." Chen said, anger evident in her voice.

"No." Emma said. "Because as difficult as this will be, I promise humanity will not go extinct. Using the ORCA and..." for a brief moment she looked away from the screen. Jodie could probably guess what else (or rather, who else) she was using in her scheme.

"If we hadn't forgotten our connection to the world around us, none of this would have to happen. But using the ORCA, we can return to a natural order. A forgotten order where we coexisted in peace with the titans. The first gods."

"This is a dangerous path," Serizawa said. "You are meddling with forces beyond our comprehension, gambling with the lives of billions!"

"And what are you gambling with, Serizawa? Monarch is broken. It's on the verge of being shut down by a government whose only objective is to eradicate these creatures and when that happens, what will our chances be?"

"You are out of your goddamn mind!" Mark snapped. "First you put our daughter's life in danger, now you get to decide the fate of the world? That's rich, Emma."

"I couldn't be more sane, and Madison couldn't be stronger. After we lost Andrew, I trained her to survive and at least now she'll have a fighting chance. You don't know how crucial she is to all thi -"

"Is that what she is? A pawn in your little game!?" Mark shouted. "There's some things you can't control."

"And there are some things you can't run from!" she retaliated, voice cracking for a brief second.

"This won't bring him back to us."

That got her, rendering her silent for what felt like a long stretch of time. But eventually she shook it off.

"I can only urge you to take refuge." she said. "Over the last sixty years Monarch has prepared bunkers around the world for situations such as this. I suggest you find them."

And with that, the screen went black.

Everyone was speechless. What could they say? As wild as it sounded, she made some good points. Too good. Looking around the room, there were hints of doubt seeded throughout everyone's faces. It frightened Jodie, how she found herself almost agreeing with her. But what scared her more was how serious she sounded. After everything that she said, it was obvious that she had been planning this right under their noses for a while. Using her high clearance to smuggle the necessary information to those extremists. Odds were good that she had even managed to plant some of them in different outposts, waiting for the call to unleash hell. Jodie felt sick to her stomach.

But then Chen broke the spell.

"That bitch."

Took the words right out of my mouth, Jodie thought.

"How long until this thing lands?" Mark asked.

"Three minutes." Foster answered.

"You might wanna rethink that." Stanton said.

"Why?" Foster asked, irritated.

"Something's not right. Check this out." he replied, pulling up security footage from Isla de Mara's containment facility. Bodies donning Monarch uniforms littered the floor in nearly every room.

"Emma's not here," he continued. "I mean, the signal's strong enough that we could pick it up but it's - it's moving."

On the tracking screen showed a dot - the ORCA's latent signal - flickering before shooting away, disappearing altogether.

"What the hell.." Mark muttered.

"She could be anywhere.." Graham commented, brows furrowed deep in thought.

Jodie groaned. "Well, this is the pits."

Suddenly, an alarm began blaring.

"What now?" Mark asked.

"Oh, jesus," Coleman said. "The containment system is shutting down."

"How much time do we have?" Serizawa asked.

_____

At least dad is okay, Madison thought. For now.

But nothing else was, everything else was going to shit. None of this was happening the way her mother explained it. Growing up, she remembered being told that she was special, that she was a crucial part in helping to ensure that humanity and titans could live together. She always thought her mother was being dramatic not this. She had never asked for any of this. There were a lot of things in her life she didn't ask for.

It sounded like a good thing, saving the world. But she had left a lot of things out. Like how many people were going to die, what it was like to see someone die, thinking your own father was among the dead. She wanted to scream.

Her mother didn't have the right to decide who lived and who didn't. She didn't have the right to use her - and Elena - as a means to an awful end. She glared daggers at her mother and the Controller, who stood a fair distance away.

She wasn't supposed to be here (and neither was Elena, who stood close behind her, keeping an eye out for any of the strange humanoids), peeking around a corner in the ship's control room. Though escape was nearly impossible, the Controller and his goons were being more lenient around her and Elena after what happened in Antarctica - which is to say they left the door to their dorms open. Though it seemed like they were trying to make them feel comfortable with their situation, to Madison, it felt more like being mocked.

"Containment system bypassed. We're ready to broadcast the ORCA." said one of the men seated at the ship's controls.

The Controller looked over at her mother. She walked toward the ORCA, opening the case. She seemed a little hesitant, something Madison hadn't anticipated. She didn't have that hesitation after blasting Monster Zero free from the ice. Madison couldn't stand it, running into the control room with no hesitation.

"Madi - pinche madre -" Elena muttered under her breath before following the girl in the room.

"Mom. Don't."

Her mother was shaken, not expecting the sudden appearance.

"I'm sorry, did a child just tell you what to do?" the Controller sneered.

"Maybe dad's right, maybe this isn't -"

"By all means, Dr. Russell, let's reconsider our entire plan now. Especially after telling your friends all about it."

"Madison, we talked about this."

"About what? Using me - both of us," she looked over her shoulder at Elena. "As - As tools?"

"Maddie, that's not -"

"No, you said we were doing this to help people. The least you can do is give them the chance to get to safety, plea -"

The Controller snapped, banging the top of a table with his hand so hard it echoed throughout the room.

"We don't have time for this," he said, voice low and impatient. "Did you think this would be easy? Painless?"

He sent her a malicious look, and Elena stepped in front of her.

"Is that what you told her?" he continued, directing his rage at her mother. "That she'd magically conjure some grand utopia? Man and monster living together in blissful harmony?"

He was right, but the condescension in his voice was more than she could handle.

"Bite me, dickhead." Madison growled.

The room was silent. The Controller's cold gaze bored into hers, but she refused to waver. Until she saw his hand reach for the handle of the gun in his pocket, then the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. Elena blocked her view of the Controller.

"Don't you dare."

Sending her a glare, he relaxed. "If I were you," he said softly. "I would save that attitude for the monsters."

"And if I were you," her mother finally spoke up, fury just barely contained. "I'd learn how to talk to titans myself before doing something as stupid as threatening my daughter."

Elena took a step forward. "And I could just as easily sic that three-headed demon on anyone in this ship. Remember that."

She knew Elena was lying, but the fact she would even think about saying something like that made Madison feel better. Safer. The Controller was the most terrifying person she had ever met, but right now, there was nothing about her mother or Elena that suggested they could be screwed around with.

"Sir?" one of the men at the controls said. "They're attempting to lock us out. It's now or never."

"Emma." the Controller said. "You came to us. The ORCA would've been nothing but scraps without our technology. We needed each other to achieve our goals, but everything will fall apart if you don't see it through."

"Emma, think about what you're doing." Elena said softly.

"Ma'am? Our window is closing."

Madison saw her mother's hand tremble. Her hand hovered over the activation button for another moment before turning on the ORCA.

"I'm sorry," her mother said. "But this is bigger than just you and me."

Elena was shaking her head in disbelief. Madison felt nauseous.

"Signal's good. Patching us into the next containment site -"

"No." her mother said. "Not yet. We'll take it slow. One at a time." she looked at Madison as if that was supposed to be reassuring.

Feeling tears forming at the edge of her eyes, she fled the room. She'd rather drop dead than have the Controller see her cry.

Shortly after, she heard Elena's footsteps follow her.

_____

Jodie watched the evacuation unfold on the Argo's monitors.

G-Team was making quick work of filing all those civilians away in airlifts but there were hundreds left to go, and the crowd was in a panic. That only grew worse when the ground began to tremble, the volcano just outside the town rumbling in response.

The air was heavy with silence, everyone holding their breath as the ground groaned, the quaking growing stronger. Her heart sank further when the top of the volcano burst open, throwing up flames and black ash into the sky. A few seconds later, the noise arrived, like a thousand eagle cries amplified to a thousand.

Jodie had only heard about the bare minimum of this titan, only that it was bird-like, almost like a pterodactyl straight out of the Jurassic period. And amidst the smoldering haze that covered the mountain, a silhouette rose from the volcano and spread its wings. They were bigger than the Argo, and they looked like they were made from half-cooled lava.

As the smoke cleared, she could make out its figure. The titan had two crests spearing out from the back of its skull like two devilish horns and a beak sharper than any existing avian's on the planet. But that wasn't what caught her attention. It was on fire. Like a phoenix, shedding ash and lava, it reached for the sky. But it didn't fly. It seemed to be yawning, like the previous explosion was just an alarm clock waking it up from its thousand-year nap. Its yellow eyes warily scanned the horizon, zeroing in on the town below and the jets screaming past it.

Mark was terrified. "Got a catchy name for this one?"

"Local legends call it Rodan, el Demonio Fuego." Chen answered.

"The Fire Demon.." Jodie whispered under her breath.

"That's comforting." Mark muttered.

"I'm picking up the ORCA." Stanton said. "Looks like she's tapping into the base remotely."

"Record it," Mark said. "I need a sample."

Stanton gave him a thumbs up.

"Guys?" Coleman spoke up, a nervous lilt in his voice as his eyes were glued to a screen. "Remember that tropical storm where we lost Monster Zero? Well, it's changing direction. Guess where it's headed now."

Jodie looked at the tracker. Not only had its direction changed, but it was speeding up. And it was heading right for them. Shit.

"Th-That's not possible." Graham stuttered.

"Unless it's not a storm." Chen said.

"O-Oh, man." Coleman said, realization striking him.

"But the evacuation -" Jodie chimed in.

"They better hurry it up, because it's closing in fast." Stanton said.

If a fight broke out between the two titans here, the town would surely be wiped off the map. Then, she too had a realization.

"Serizawa," Jodie said. "Let Rodan go."

Stanton groaned. "Don't tell me Emma got to your head."

"Shut up, Rick, if Rodan stays here, so will Monster Zero. Then there won't be an island to come back to."

"She's right." Mark said, pointing to a radar image of the approaching storm. "I think that thing's responding to Big Bird's cries. That only means it's coming here for food, a fight, or to f - something more intimate."

"What are you suggesting?" Serizawa asked.

Outside, jets streaked past them, unloading missiles at Rodan. Jodie doubted they would do anything other than piss him off. But he definitely noticed them. His angered gaze searched the skies, dismissing the smaller aircraft whizzing by and focusing his glare on the Argo.

It had been Mark's idea to attempt to challenge Rodan, hoping that he would see the craft as an invasion of his territory. Surely, no self-respecting giant bird-thing would let something like that slide, could he?

"I think we got his attention." Jodie commented.

"Everyone strap in." Foster said. "All ships, follow our lead."

The Argo banked hard, jets following right behind them. Pissed, Rodan pushed himself free of his nest, spreading his wings and taking to the air - lava spilling from his form and onto the town below.

The chase was on.

It didn't take long for Rodan to catch up with the fleet, hell-bent on disposing of the threat to his domain. The Argo's jet escort tried to slow the titan's advance, but they were paying an awful price. As Jodie watched, Rodan snatched jets from the sky with his talons, sending them spiraling to the ocean below.

We don't have to outrun him forever, Jodie reassured herself. Just hang on a little longer.

Even that would be a challenge.

As she looked out one of the Argo's windows, she saw Rodan quickly gaining on them. He was still burning, trailing smoke and lava like a walking volcano. He really was a fire demon, carrying the blaze with him just as Godzilla had his blue radiation and Monster Zero with his golden lightning.

And speak of the devil, the storm that blotted out the horizon was rapidly approaching. The mass of copper-colored clouds, hearts burning with lightning, struck a deep feeling of dread within her.

If we don't make it out of here alive, I'm coming back and strangling you myself, Jodie thought, looking at Mark.

"Argo to Gold Squad, let's get this turkey away from the mainland and straight to Monster Zero - ETA two minutes." Stanton broadcast.

"Copy." the reply came back.

The jets doubled back and fired at Rodan. A few missiles hit him, but it didn't faze him much. With a flap of his wings, he lifted above the barrage of jets, clapping with such force that three of them were slapped out of the sky by the shock wave. The same beat of his wings propelled him straight up, like a blazing spear aimed at heaven. In the next second he came shrieking back down from a different angle, like a raptor swooping in on its prey, catching the jets completely off guard. Crushing two of them with his talons and biting one as it exploded, the wreckage spun down to the ocean.

"Two-two-three, on your six!" Foster shouted into her earpiece. "Get out of there!"

Jodie watched as the pilot ejected from the doomed jet. Only to be swallowed by Rodan, seat and all.

"ETA to Monster Zero, sixty seconds." Stanton announced, frantic.

Then, Rodan rolled, his flaming wings spinning through the air as if he were drilling a hole through the sky. It almost seemed to happen in slow motion as Jodie watched in horror as the titan's wings swatted jets out of his way like bugs. When Rodan finished his roll, Gold Squad no longer existed. One by one, the pilot feeds winked out until there were none. The Argo was alone.

"ETA to Monster Zero, thirty seconds!" Stanton shouted.

The Argo rattled as they raced into the hurricane, the sun vanishing as they became engulfed in Monster Zero's tempest. The aircraft shuddered as lightning struck on and around them.

For a moment, Jodie shut her eyes. Rodan had caught up with them. Looking out one of the Argo's windows, all she could see was his massive talons quickly encroaching on them.

Sorry, Gill, she thought. Guess my luck's run out.

Lightning struck again, and right in front of them was a massive three-headed silhouette, appearing through the clouds. In that moment, Jodie was sure she would die. Behind them, Rodan veered away with a frightened screech, abandoning the Argo completely.

"Dive!" Foster commanded.

Jodie felt her insides caught in her throat as the ship lost altitude, dropping past Monster Zero as the two titans crashed into each other, their cries mixing into one angry scream. Claws and talons locking together as they dove into a free-fall, writhing and twisting, biting and clawing as if it was all they knew.

"Jesus, they're killing each other." Stanton commented.

"Better them than us." Mark said.

Thankfully, gravity returned as the Argo leveled out, scraping the surface of the water. The engines whirred as the pilot kicked them into high gear, trying to get as far from the battle as possible.

Jodie sighed in disbelief.

But the relief didn't last when the radio crackled with static, the voice of Chief Officer Barnes patching into the Argo's speakers.

"Mayday - come in, Argo, this is Raptor One, do you read?"

"Copy," Foster replied. "What's your status?"

"We're screwed, that's what. And we have civilians on board. We're gonna need immediate midair retrieval."

"Lock onto their position and prepare the hangar for emergency landing."

"Hangar doors are unresponsive." Stanton said.

"Manual override?"

"They're stuck." he clarified.

"Which way to the hangar?" Mark asked impatiently, itching to be more useful than just expressing his glee at the thought of two titans murdering each other.

"I can show you," Jodie replied.

"Anyone else?"

"I know the way, come on." Coleman cut in. Jodie rolled her eyes, going back to observing the fight behind them.

Meanwhile, Rodan and Monster Zero were still going at it. As they fought their way across the sky, flames and lightning painted the clouds with their fury.

Monster Zero didn't look like a fan of competition, but it didn't seem as though the dragon was trying to kill Rodan so much as dominate him. This fight was much different than the one in Antarctica, and if this was any indication, the dragon was trying to build his strength for a bigger fight - a bigger challenger.

Hearing their cries just outside the Argo, Jodie was never more certain of Godzilla's place in the world. Thinking back to all those times Serizawa alluded to him as nature's balance, she found herself agreeing with him more and more. Monster Zero, however, was something else entirely. Though she hated placing such concepts on animals, Monster Zero radiated evil. She knew that the titans were simply a fact of life, had been long before humans were even a concept. A carnivore wasn't evil because it sought out living prey, that's just how the circle of life worked. But remembering Antarctica, how the dragon played with their prey, targeted her of all things, Jodie thought that maybe the mind of Monster Zero was capable of more than just simple instincts.

Just then, Monster Zero's right and left heads pinned Rodan in midair, stretching his wings to their limit. Although they had nearly been knocked out of the sky by him, it was hard to watch. He was completely helpless. His situation only worsened when the center head raised itself, considering the struggling titan with a cruel, apathetic gaze. He could do nothing as the dragon unleashed a beam of energy directly into his chest. Rodan, as fierce as he was, limply fell into the water below like a screeching ragdoll. And like that, the fight was over. Once more, Jodie could swear she saw spite in their faces as the monster turned their attention toward them.

Suddenly, the control panel beeped. Another call was coming in.

"It's Admiral Stenz." Stanton said.

Great, just what they needed. He had worked with Monarch in the past, but he refused to even make an attempt at understanding the titans. But more importantly, he was an instrument of the government, and that was never good.

Stenz was patched on screen, looking solemn.

"Admiral." Serizawa nodded.

He quickly cut to the chase. "Dr. Serizawa, Colonel Foster, I need you and the rest of your forces to immediately disengage and withdraw to a safe distance."

"I don't understand -" Foster started.

"Over the past five years, we've been developing a prototype for a new weapon," he said, looking more than a little weary. "Designated as Project O, we call it the Oxygen Destroyer, designed to exterminate all life forms within a two-mile radius."

Jodie's mouth hung limp in disbelief.

"With any luck it will kill these things and this nightmare will finally be over."

"Admiral," Serizawa said. "We must keep our faith in Gojira -"

"I'm sorry, doctor." Stenz said. "You had your chance."

"Admiral, there must be a -" Graham spoke before she was cut off.

"The missile is already on its way...may god have mercy on us all."

The screen went dark, and the bridge was silent.

"He's not lying," Stanton said, staring at a beeping radar. "It's coming in hot."

Outside the Argo, they had something else to look out for. Something much closer. Rising overhead, a familiar high-pitched roar trilled over the wind. Monster Zero was nearly on top of them, skimming low across the waves. On all three heads their teeth were bared in wicked grins. If the Oxygen Destroyer didn't reach them first, that thing definitely would.

Damn it, Jodie thought.

Taking a deep breath, waiting for impact, she braced herself. Only to hear the ocean below spray water into the air, lifting and smashing into the dragon. It wasn't a rogue wave, but a mountain-sized lizard. Godzilla.

Snatching the dragon in mid-flight and slamming them into the water, everyone on the bridge cheered to themselves. Jodie wanted to feel relieved, but she couldn't. Not with that man-made abomination heading straight for him.

#godzilla #Godzilla King of the Monsters #king of the monsters #kotm #godzilla fanfic #leviathanfic

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