#and as an adult that means I’m usually trying to distract myself from being sad over whoever

[rowanhoney]

insisting on a celibacy phase was maybe a bit much but honestly it fixed me

[elizabeethan]

Overboard: 1/1

Emma Swan spends years trying to find her parents, and when she finally does, she gets more than she bargains for

A Silver Hook AU for @the-darkdragonfly

hours of watching Wicked Tuna has ruined me and thus this AU was born. Sorry...

Thank you to @the-darkdragonfly, @donteattheappleshook, and @xhookswenchx for listening to my ramblings

Rated M

Read on Ao3

Read my other stuff

~~~~

The sun pours through his blinds, assaulting the lids of her eyes as she squeezes them shut. Delicate fingers dance across the expanse of her bare stomach, making her giggle before she even has the wherewithal to stop herself. As sleep leaves her assuredly, she should feel irritated, but she feels nothing but comfort in her bedmates arms. 

 “It’s rude to wake people up,” she chastises, and his answering hum is deep and rumbling against the skin below her ear. “Shouldn’t you have learned your manners by now?”

“Are you making fun of my age?”

 “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she whispers back, giggling as he pokes his tongue against her skin and then nips at it lightly. 

 “That’s good. Because one mustn’t disrespect one's elder.” 

 “And you are quite a bit older than me,” she points out in jest, rolling onto her right side to face him straight on, her smile beaming as the sun lights her golden hair. He distracts himself from their morning banter to run his fingers delicately over her temple, tracing over the shell of her ear as he tucks a wayward strand behind it. 

 “I seem to recall you being a bit more appreciative last night. What was it you said? Something about my extensive practice?”

 Emma hums softly, nuzzling her face into the skin of his palm as she recalls their rather satisfying evening. “It’s true,” she tells him. “With great age comes great experience.” 

 Killian laughs, refusing to let his thoughts of being too old for her taunt him. “I can assure you, I’m not nearly as experienced as you may believe.” 

With a small shrug, Emma wriggles under the thin sheet that covers them until she can sling her legs over his own. “You’ve got a good decade on me. And trust me, you know what you’re doing.” 

Killian falters, holding her cheek with his palm again as he pushes away more thoughts of self doubt. He stops himself from correcting her- fourteen years, love- and chooses instead to lift his head high enough to meet her lips with his. In the six months that he’s known her, he’s been endlessly fascinated by her free spiritedness. And in the four months since she joined him in his bed, hardly giving him much of a choice to deny her of what she so desperately wanted, he’s been unable to go much more than an hour without thoughts of her plaguing his mind. Thoughts of her body and her mind and her most alluring personality. 

 He’s falling for her, of this he is completely certain. 

 She grins against him in response to the groan that escapes his throat, her tongue lightly tracing the lines of his collarbone and making it that much harder for him to consider getting out of bed. “I’ll surely have a mutiny on my hands if you don’t stop now, love.” 

 Humming in question, Emma sits up and gives him a look of disgruntled confusion. “Your crew is going to be mad that you’re getting laid?” 

 With a smirk, one that he tries to fight, he shakes his head and says, “my crew is going to be mad if I miss another day on the water.” 

 Rolling her eyes, she responds, “I suppose I can’t keep you from your livelihood forever,” in concession. 

 He rolls them easily, Emma much lighter in weight than his usual catches as he flips her onto her back and latches his mouth to her neck. “That’s very considerate of you, siren,” he says against her warm flesh. 

 “I told you, I’m not a damn mermaid,” she says, likely rolling her eyes before she lets out a soft sigh. 

 “Aye, but I find myself struggling to believe you as you continue to seduce me with your wicked ways.” 

 Snorting softly, she meets his mouth with her own, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth gently and tracing her tongue along the tip of his own. She lets her hands wander, careful not to get too explorative with the knowledge that he should be getting up soon as she scrapes her fingers down the taute skin of his back. Despite her jokes, she really doesn’t want to keep him from his vessel. She knows his crew relies on their captain to bring them out each day, especially as the season comes to a close and the pressure to catch becomes more and more. But the way he kisses her gives her other ideas all together. 

 “I think one day I’d like to go out with you,�� she hums thoughtfully against his mouth, and he stills anxiously. When they first met upon her first coming to town, Killian was almost embarrassed to tell her what he does for a living for fear of her judgment. Her genuine grin as he explained the way his family has been fishing for generations quelled his nerves, but still it felt like his profession wouldn’t be good enough for the likes of her. 

 “It can be quite dangerous,” he tells her instead, wanting not to dwell on the twinge of embarrassment that sits in the pit of his stomach at the thought of her watching on as he battles each and every paycheck he earns. 

 “I’m sure you’ll keep me safe,” she flirts, tenderly stroking her long fingers through the hair at the base of his scalp and smiling softly up at him. The sun catches her eyes again, the emerald reminding him of the warm ocean water stirred up after a rough storm. 

 His smile is sad and awkward as he turns his face from hers, glancing out the window at the horizon. “I’m sure there are better ways for you to pass your time visiting our sleepy little town.”  

 “Killian,” she says more firmly, moving her hands to cup his cheeks and encourage him to look back down at her. “You know I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

 The look in his eyes when they finally meet hers cracks her hardened heart, his anticipation of rejection something she knows all too well. “No one would blame you for heading back to Boston, love.” 

 She shakes her head. “I came here to meet my parents. To get to know them. And while that’s still important to me… they're not the only reason I’m sticking around.” 

 He feels selfish, foolish, as he gazes into her deep, soulful eyes. Of course he knows that Emma has a reason to stay in town, but when she says that he’s a part of that, he becomes consumed with a sense of desperate want. A desire to become all of that for her. An insatiable craving to become everything to her. 

 Of course, he’s never had much of a way with words. Thoughts, that’s a different story. But getting those thoughts out of his mouth and into the air between them is almost impossible. So, rather than express himself to her in the way that any mature adult should be able to, he leans down and captures her lips with his in a kiss that he hopes tells her everything that she deserves to know. 

 “You're going to be late,” she murmurs against him. “And as much as it would be nice to meet your friends, I’d rather not do so while I’m naked in your bed. I have a feeling they’re going to come knocking down your door if you don’t get to the docks.” 

 “Aye,” he agrees. “Hopefully we get lucky today and I can come back in relatively early. Will sometimes loses the plot if we come in empty handed.” 

 She rolls her eyes, prepared to make fun of how painfully British he sounds as he crawls over her to the edge of the bed, giving her a rather distracting view of his ass. He may be quite a few years older than her, but the physical nature of his work, and his devotion to his crew leading to him doing as much work as they do, gives him a physique that she isn’t shy about ogling. 

 “Will you tell me when you get in?” she asks shyly, the two of them playing off of the others insecurities without meaning to. “I mean, you don’t have to. But I’d like to see you--” 

 He cuts her off with his mouth on hers, leaning over her so that the stubble on his chin scratches against hers. “Normally, if we catch something, we bring it to the harbormaster to have it dressed and weighed. Perhaps I can inform you when we’re there? And meet you afterwards?” 

 She smiles up at him, careful not to let his words stall her as she considers their content. Perhaps it should have been obvious by now, that a local fisherman should have to deal with the harbormaster on a fairly regular basis, but the topic has never come up and so it’s stayed far from the front of her mind. “Okay,” she finally chokes out nervously. She’s always been good at hiding the intricacies of how she’s feeling, but given the way his eyes narrow at her, she wonders if she’s losing her touch. “I look forward to it.” 

 “Very good. Perhaps you’d… that is… I wonder if you’d be amenable to--” 

 “Killian.” 

 He clears his throat, standing from the bed and stepping away from the mattress to grab one of his aged knit sweaters. He’s rather old school in his techniques, she’s found, and the old fisherman sweaters that he wears out on his small fishing vessel are no exception. 

 Watching as he wrestles a pair of jeans over his legs, she giggles and sits up, bringing his thin sheet with her to cover her breasts modestly. Finally, while he stands by the door and fascens his watch to his wrist, he asks, “I simply wondered if you’d perhaps be interested in joining me for… a meal.” 

 Emma sits stoically still under his sheets as he fiddles around the room anxiously, refusing to look her way out of embarrassment and fear of rejection. She knows the feeling well, so she sits and waits for his eyes to dart in her direction before she gives him a soft, encouraging smile. “Are you asking me out?” she finally asks, and she watches his throat bob up and down before he turns to face her. 

 Clearing his throat, he says, “ah, I suppose I am.” 

 Really, it’s about bloody time he asks. Each time they’ve been together-- each time they’ve been anywhere near each other-- it’s been with her making the first move. He should be grateful for her willingness to take the leap that they both want to take, but after four months, he figures he’d best put his fears aside and grow a pair already. 

 It’s not that he thinks she’ll say no, although rejection is painful enough. His worry is that she’ll say yes, and eventually realize how much better she could have it. He’s a forty-year-old fisherman, for goodness sake. At only just twenty-six, she could certainly land a man with a more respectable, more lucrative, less deadly job, and that fact isn’t lost on him. It hasn’t been since the moment he first saw her at The Rabbit Hole six months ago. 

 She hums happily, smiling up at him and nodding. “I guess this means you’ll have to come in tonight. Better catch a good one, Captain.” 

 ~~~~

 “Oi, he lives!” Will calls from the dock next to Killian’s small boat, grinning and shoveling a pile of ice into the compartment under the deck. “We were worried you’d forgotten about us.” 

 “No,” Killian replies simply, shaking his head and climbing aboard. He makes his way into the wheelhouse, dropping his bag and turning the engine over. “We’ll need to get fuel before we head out.” 

 “Something you forgot to do last night? Perhaps you were too busy?” Robin asks, winking at his captain. 

 He rolls his eyes rather than responding, turning the engine on and checking the gauges as he listens to his mates making assumptions about his whereabouts. 

 When they finally get out onto the water, they avoid the other boats in the fleet in favor of finding solitude. A lot of the other captains think that Killian has some secret knowledge about the best places to drop anchor, but really, he just listens to his gut and gets lucky most of the time. 

 “So,” Will starts once they’ve put their lines out and chummed the water. “The blonde?”

 Killian glares at his deckhand and friend, unwilling to give him much information about what he gets up to when they’re not at sea. He knows they did a piss poor job of keeping things quiet when they started up… whatever it is that they’ve started up, what with Emma practically jumping him after a few too many flirty comments were exchanged between the two of them. Everyone in the Rabbit Hole saw them that night, Emma’s fingers tightly gripping the lapels of his jacket and his sliding under her shirt and into her hair. Everyone saw them leaving together, too. His desire to hide her away and ensure that no one ever finds out about them is wholly unreachable at this point. He only wishes that he could quell his own fears about the judgment that the townsfolk must be passing on them. Emma is young, Killian is decidedly not. Emma can do better, Killian is batting far out of his league. Emma is an energetic young lady with her whole life and an endless amount of opportunities in front of her, Killian is a mildly successful fisherman. He can’t ever hope to be good enough for her, and the whole town knows it. 

 “Aye, the blonde,” he finally mumbles, wishing he could dive into the waves and never be heard from again. 

 “She’s quite something.” 

 “Aye.” 

 “A few years younger than you, if I had to guess.” 

 He glares to his left as Will continues to reel in some herring to use for bait, catching five at once without even blinking. Their age difference isn’t a secret, and it isn’t difficult to pick up on by simply observing the two of them for a few moments. The wrinkles around Killian’s eyes and the gray peppered throughout his hair and concentrated at his temples makes his age quite obvious. Meanwhile, Emma’s flawless physique and supple skin gives way to her youth, although her maturity is observable as well. One couldn’t possibly guess her to be a day over twenty-eight, and even then, she may seem too young for him. 

 Finally, he agrees, “aye.” 

 “Well, I think they make a lovely couple,” Robin supplies, poking his head out of the wheelhouse. “Sorry sod deserves a bit of happiness, finally.” 

 Rolling his eyes, Killian can’t help but agree with his friend’s sentiment. Despite the awkwardness and the assumptions of others, he can’t deny how happy he’s been since she rolled into town. And he definitely can’t deny how much happier he’s been in the last four months since she went home with him. 

 “I’m not sure she’ll be in town much longer,” Killian finally says after too much silence passes between the three of them, their lines quiet and the ocean seemingly empty below them. 

 “Didn’t she come searching for her parents?” 

 “Aye, she found them when she first arrived. But I can’t imagine her sticking around… I believe she simply wanted to get to know them a bit and then head back to Boston.”

 Will and Robin must read the shift in his mood easily, the obvious disdain for the idea of her leaving Storybrooke and going back to the busy city where she could so easily meet someone worthy of her time. Perhaps he should let her go himself, be the one to make the difficult decision for them so as to not drag things out too long, but he’s a glutton for punishment and can’t possibly consider the idea of being separated from Emma Swan for a second longer than he absolutely has to be. 

 Rather than continuing the topic and torture Killian with thoughts of Emma inevitably leaving him, they change the subject to something equally as painful when Will jokes, “I’m sure her parents love you, aye? That age difference must have gone over well with dear-old-dad.” 

 Killian cringes and shakes his head. “I doubt they even know about me. I certainly don’t know much about them, aside from what she’s told me.”

 “So she talks about that stuff with you?” 

 “Aye.” Will make a face, clearly surprised at his statement, and glances over at Robin suspiciously. “What?” 

 Robin shakes his head, casting another bait line, and says, “Nothing, we both just assumed it was just sex, that’s all.”

 “What do you mean?” he asks curiously. It’s not because this is just sex to him, but because he’s curious about what they seem to think makes it not just sex for Emma. 

 Will laughs lightly, cheering when he brings in another line full of herring. “Mate, if she’s talking about her family, it’s not just sex.” 

 He hums thoughtfully, supposing that must be true. Emma wouldn’t confide in him about her upbringing— and her trauma, and her fears of abandonment— unless she was comfortable with him, would she? She wouldn’t have tried to process her feelings surrounding her adoption if she didn’t trust him, would she? She wouldn’t have agreed to a date with him tonight if some part of her didn’t like him, right? 

 “I love the look on his face when realization strikes,” Will jokes, bumping Killian with his elbow. He looks like he’s about to say more, perhaps another jest, perhaps something that will give Killian more insight into his companionship, but the radar starts marking fish and they each stand still and silent in anticipation. 

 The line starts clicking with the indication that something may be going for the bait, and when the reel begins screaming as the fish in question tries to escape, they jump into action. There’s shouting and running and fierce reeling, and it’s almost enough to get Killian’s mind off of Emma bloody Swan. 

 ~~~~

 Emma tries not to drag her feet as she makes her way down the main dock, the chilled ocean air sending a shiver down her spine despite her borrowing Mary Margaret’s windbreaker. With the season coming to close in a few weeks, the late fall weather sends a damp chill through her bones that she isn’t used to despite growing up in Minnesota. 

 It’s not as if she isn’t excited to see David this evening. She’s been spending time with him and Mary Margaret, and their son Leo as well, fairly regularly since she’s come to town. But things have been awkward to say the least. 

 She didn’t know about her brother when she arrived in Storybrooke. Finding out about him, finding out that he’s just turned eighteen, making them almost eight years apart, hurt a bit. Of course she understands that people change a lot in eight years. But the fact is, her parents had her and gave her away. They had her brother and raised him. It stings. 

 It stings. But it isn’t something any of them can change now. So she puts it behind her, just like Ingrid taught her. 

 If she wasn’t raised by such a soft, caring woman for most of her life, Emma’s certain she would be a different person from who she’s become. She had every chance to build walls as high as the eye can see, but Ingrid broke them down little by little from the day she welcomed Emma into her house when she was eight years old. After being given back by two families in a row, she was seen as broken, as damaged goods, as a stray no one could truly want. But Ingrid saw through her trauma and her bad behavior and welcomed her with open arms.��

 When she became sick, Ingrid gave Emma all of the information she was able to dig up on her parents. It wasn’t much to go on, and Emma initially refused to use any of it for fear of hurting her mother’s feelings. She didn’t want to make Ingrid feel like she was trying to replace her by finding her birth parents. But as Ingrid lay on her deathbed, the ovarian cancer too much for her frail frame to fight any longer, she begged Emma to seek her parents out, telling her that she deserves answers. That no matter the choice they made all those years ago, they deserve to know the beautiful woman they brought into this world. 

 She couldn’t exactly turn her down. So, traumatized and heartbroken, she put all that she had into expanding upon her mother’s research until finally, almost two years later, she found them. 

 David and Mary Margaret Nolan. She found them in a small fishing town off the coast of Maine, well known on the East Coast for their lucrative bluefin tuna fishing season. 

 It wasn’t exactly what she expected. And when she knocked on their door and a gangly teenager answered, she’ll admit to feeling slighted. 

 Okay, perhaps irrationally angry is more accurate. And if her method of coping was to go to the first bar she could find and get completely obliterated, so be it. The handsome man in the soft, cream colored sweater helping her to her room at Granny’s was an added bonus. 

 “Hey, Ems,” David calls from his makeshift desk where he does all of his accounting and paperwork. She’s sat here a few times before, but found herself bored out of her mind in a matter of minutes as she watched him work over his ledgers. 

 “Hi,” she greets back. She’s found that she doesn’t really call them anything. It doesn't feel right to call them mom or dad, because she had a mom. And while David may be her biological father, he isn’t really her dad. So instead, she doesn’t address them as anything. 

 “I’ve got a couple of boats coming in,” he informs her. “Season’s almost over, so the fish are big this time of year. You may get to see some record-breakers.” 

 “Cool,” she smiles, taking a seat on the folding table he sits at all day, cringing as it creaks under her weight. 

 “I think your… I think Mary Margaret is gonna come out tonight too. We were thinking of grabbing dinner. You know, celebrate the weekend, and all that.” 

 With a small grin coloring her features, her heart skips a beat at the thought of the sailor hopefully making his way to shore as they speak. She doesn’t doubt that he’s on his way, but she isn’t sure how happy he’ll be if he comes in empty handed and with an angry crew. “I actually have plans,” she tells him with a blush. 

 “Dinner plans?” 

 “Yep,” she answers with a nod. “A date.” 

 “A date,” David says, his brows drawing close together as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Who are you--” 

 He’s interrupted by his wife, her excited voice carrying across the length of the docks as she hurries towards them. “Emma!” she shouts as she gets closer. “Hi, honey!” 

 She tenses slightly at the title, still feeling uncomfortable when she hears words of affection coming from the woman who gave birth to her. She smiles anyway, waving softly and hopping off of the table, letting the woman embrace her briefly before pulling away. “Hi.” 

 “Did your father ask you to dinner? We figured we’d celebrate the weekend starting. Plus, it seems like the fleet did really well this week, doesn't it, David? The buyers are always more generous at the end of the season--” 

 “Emma has plans,” David cuts her off. “A date.” 

 “A date?”

 “A date.” 

 “Do you guys mind?” she asks, only half joking. It’s been hard enough opening up to them and letting them into her heart and her personal life. She does try to not use humor as a way to keep them at a distance, really. 

 Mary Margaret clears her throat, smiling at Emma sweetly and only a bit awkwardly. “Who is your date with, sweetheart?” 

 “Well,” she starts turning to face David, “you might actually know him.” 

 “Oh, hold that thought for just a second, Ems. A boat’s coming in.” 

 She turns to face the water below them, noting the modestly sized vessel floating towards the loading dock. Two crewmen stand outside, grabbing for ropes as they pull themselves against the dock while the captain stands in the wheelhouse, diligently watching as he guides the boat. She smiles at the sight, taking in his ruffled appearance and the fact that he’s changed his sweater, wondering what happened out at sea to make the other one unwearable. 

 “Evening, Dave,” one of his mates calls, waving in their direction once the boat is secured to the dock. “We’ve got two big ones for ya.” 

 David praises him, watching as they open up a small hatch in the floor of the boat and reveal two massive fish. Emma’s never seen anything like it, the tunas taking up the entire space below the main deck. They must be almost twice as long as she is tall. “Think we’ve got a good thousand pounds here,” the other man calls as he wraps a rope around one of the tails. “Hope we can lift it.” 

 Killian trips and stumbles when he sees her, the blush on his cheeks spreading to his ears and down his neck and reminding her of how he looks when he’s about to finish inside her. The thought makes her blush as well as she grins down at him, giving him a small wave. He’s been quiet and shy for as long as she’s known him, but he’s also professional, and his silence and lack of greeting is almost concerning. 

 He climbs off the boat, hoisting himself easily onto the dock as the muscles under his sweater ripple with the effort. Clearing his throat, he finally makes eye contact with her, smiling awkwardly as his blush deepens. “Evening, Miss Swan,” he says sweetly, reminding her of when they met months ago. She’s not sure she likes it. 

 “Hi, Killian,” she responds with a smirk, making his blush deepen and heating him to an uncomfortable temperature in his dampened sweater. The first fish they caught was barely above the length requirement and relatively easy to hoist onto the deck, but the second has to be one of the largest they’ve ever gotten, and it put up one hell of a fight. 

 “You two know each other?” David asks, glancing between him and Emma, and it strikes Killian that she isn’t here waiting for him like he thought. She’s standing by the harbormaster, relatively close to his wife and child, and things start to fall into place in his mind. 

 They’ve talked about her parents briefly, about how they were young when they had her and made the decision to give her up at the persuasion of both of their parents. She told him about how they had a son a few years later and raised him. She just never told him that her father is the bloody harbormaster. 

 “Yeah,” she answers finally, giving David Nolan a smile that Killian recognizes. It’s the same one that David gives him when he catches a big fish; friendly and necessary but not entirely genuine. She doesn’t expand upon how they met, or how they know each other, or the nature of their relationship, and the harbormaster looks at Killian suspiciously as the machinery lifts his second fish onto the dock. 

 David evaluates each fish and offers him a hefty price for the both of them. The second one, the one that gave them such trouble, is over a thousand pounds, just like Will had guessed, so they make out very well after just one days work. Normally, their undeniable success would be enough to erase any negative thought floating around in Killian’s head, but all he can focus on is the fact that he’s pretty sure he’s standing beside the father of the woman he’s sleeping with.

 He tries to be an adult about it, ignoring the awkward air that has settled between them as David’s family watches on happily, but when Emma asks, “are you ready to go, Killian?” everyone’s eyes dart up immediately. 

 Thankfully, the check had already been cut and handed to Killian, because he’s almost certain that he wouldn’t have gotten his hands on it if Emma’s question had come any sooner. He watches as David’s eyes grow twice their normal size, his wife’s mouth falling agape as she turns to stare at Emma in complete shock. 

 “No,” David says immediately, shaking his head in denial and turning to face his daughter. “Absolutely not.” 

 “Excuse me?” Emma asks, raising both brows in challenge and taking a step away from her mother and towards Killian. She sees his eyes widening and darting between the three of them nervously as the exchange becomes more and more tense. 

 The man, only slightly older than Killian, clears his throat and looks at his daughter again before saying, “please tell me you're not dating him.” 

 “How dare you,” she accuses immediately, stepping back once more until she stands beside Killian, his warmth radiating off of him and comforting her just slightly in the wake of her anger. She doesn’t even know why he would say something like that, what would make him feel the need to say that, but she’s quick to become defensive. She knows Killian is a good person, and she feels immediately as if this man has no right to dictate who she dates. 

 “Honey,” Mary Margaret starts, stepping closer to her and placing her hand on her elbow just as Emma pulls away. She looks in Killian’s direction awkwardly and tensely before trying again. “It’s just… he’s a bit older...” 

 “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she says angrily, and notices David stiffening beside his wife. 

 “Emma, please. He just catches fish for half a year. You’re too young to be thinking about settling down with someone who doesn’t have a stable career. Not to mention, he’s almost the same age as me and your mother.” 

 She senses him becoming rigid beside her, his shoulders rising slightly and his jaw clenching in tense discomfort at the accusation. They’ve had this conversation briefly several times, sometimes jokingly and sometimes out of his own insecurities. He’s always seen himself as too old for her-- too old, too common, not good enough-- and the confirmation from her father surely hurts him. 

 Of course, they’ve never talked much about who her parents are. They’ve had their share of conversations about her past and why she’s here, so he knows plenty about the things that she’s been through, but she never felt the need to tell him who they are. She never even put two and two together that he may know her father until this morning. And now she’s hurt him by keeping this from him. 

 With shock and anger, she answers too loudly. “Well, it’s not my fault you guys had me at 17, it is? And are you really judging him for his job? He works hard every day!”

 “Emma,” Killian tries softly, placing his hand on her elbow, but she pulls away in the same way that she had with her mother. 

 “No! They have no right to judge you for what you do for a living. Or us for our age difference. This is completely ridiculous.”

 “It’s alright, love,” he says, resigning to the fact that he’s likely going to lose her. Her parents are right; his job is seasonal and not always as lucrative as he would like, and he’s closer in age to her parents than he is to her. It was bound to end eventually, he tells himself sadly, as she deserves so much more than he’s able to give her. “I’ll go.” 

 “You’re not going anywhere unless you're bringing me with you,” she gripes angrily, grabbing his hand in her own and yanking him away from where her parents are standing. He lets her pull him along, looking back nervously at the harbormaster and his wife as they gape at the two of them. 

 ~~~~

 “How dare they,” she grumbles, slamming his front door harder than he thinks she means to. “I mean, they barely know me, never mind you.” 

 “Emma,” he tries, but she refuses to let him get a word in edgewise as she continues her venting. 

 “It would be one thing if they had actually raised me. If they instilled in me these values that they seem to think puts them on a pedestal. But they gave me away.”

 He guides her gently through his small cottage, the weight of his hand on the small of her back serving as a reminder that he’s here for her. 

 “Emma,” he repeats once they’re sitting and she’s able to hear him. “You know I understand.”

 She does know this. He told her one night, while their legs were entwined and their arms were around one another, about the way his father abandoned him and his brother when he was just a boy. “I know,” she confirms softly. 

 “And you also know that I hate the idea of getting in between you and your family. They’re the reason you’re here in the first place, love.”

 She stares at him for a moment, taking in the meaning of his words and angering when she realizes that he thinks he’s the problem here. 

 “Stop,” she insists suddenly. “If you’re making me consider them my family, then I’m going to consider you my family, too.”

 “Love--”

 “I’ve known you the same amount of time as I have them. And you’ve never once judged me, or let me down, or made me feel… like I’m doing something wrong.”

 His face drops slightly in response to her words as he saddens. It kills him to know that she’s been made to feel this way. “I appreciate hearing that, love. But at the same time… they have a point. I’m closer in age to your parents than I am to you.”

 “Please,” she says, rolling her eyes and pushing his shoulders until he’s lying down and she’s lying across his chest. “You should hear about some of the other guys I’ve dated. You being old is nothing.”

 He pinches her hip in response to her jest and says, “I dare not hear about them, or else I may leave here and start a fight with each of them.”

 “You’re too old to fight.”

 “Aye, that’s right.”

 They lie in comfortable silence, Killian’s tired arms running up and down along her spine until her breathing evens out. It’s either an indication that she’s feeling less angry, or that she’s fallen asleep, but he knows it to be the former when she speaks up. 

 “Do you know that you smell really bad? Like… I mean really bad.”

 “Thank you, darling.”

 “You’re welcome,” she says, and he can hear the sly smile in her voice without needing to see her perfect face. “You know, I could probably help you with that.”

 “Is that so?” he asks in falsified surprise. 

 “Yes,” she nods. “A nice hot shower is just what the doctor ordered.”

 “Oh, are we playing doctor now, Swan?” 

 “Ugh, no, Jones. It isn’t 1950 anymore, old man. Kids don’t play doctor. Now come with me if you want me to soap you up.”

 She yanks him from the couch, guiding him through his small space until they reach the shower. It’s a tight fit, squeezing the both of them inside, but she somehow manages to get on her knees before him and quell his anxieties that he’s not good enough for her. Her mouth is useful when it’s using words to comfort him, and it’s just as useful when she’s using it to worship him until he can finish in the back of her throat. 

 As she stands slowly and salaciously, the warm water trickles down her face and into her hair, dampening the flawless length of her body as she reaches behind him for the body wash. “Does this mean you aren’t going to leave me?” she asks softly as she squeezes some soap into her palm. He can barely stand straight, leaning against the wall of the shower as she begins to lather the soap over the coarse hair on his chest. 

 His thoughts finally return to him and he says, “please tell me you didn’t just give me the best blowjob of my life as a means to convince me.” 

 She snorts, wrapping her arms around his waist and running her hands up and down his back. He knows she’s trying to follow through on her promise to soap him up, but she grabs onto his rear and he isn’t sure if she’s cleansing him correctly. “No,” she responds, pressing her lips to his neck and licking along his racing pulse. “But... did it help persuade you?” 

 He hums, not trusting his own voice and nodding. “It did,” he breathes, then he rights himself and remembers how imperative it is that he get his point across. “Emma, I don't want to leave you. I don’t think I’ll ever be happy if you aren’t by my side. I just… I only want to do what’s best for you.” 

 “You are what’s best for me,” she says, her voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. She finally looks up, releasing her lips and tongue from his skin and meeting his eyes with hers. “I never… I mean, I didn't grow up with a family. I know how to get by without my parents. But it’s-- It’s different with you. Ingrid always said that I need to fight for my happiness. I finally understand what she meant now that I’ve met you. I can’t lose you.”

 Her words are so soft, so small, that he could have missed them. If he wasn’t watching the way her lips moved when she spoke, he would have. The way that she’s able to perfectly express how she’s feeling, while also giving words to the way that he feels about her, makes his heart practically jump out of his chest. 

 “Love,” he breathes, his voice gruff and barely audible as he cups her cheek with his palm. “I can’t lose you either.” 

 “You just mean a lot to me,” she whispers. 

 “Aye. You mean more to me than I could put into words.” 

 “Then please don’t leave me,” she mouths. He knows she had the intention to say the words aloud, but it’s as if she isn’t able to. 

 He’s unable to form the words that he so desperately wants to, either, so he leans in close to her and captures her lips between his own, molding their mouths together as if they were made for each other. And she kisses him back in a way that conveys how she feels about him. 

 Her fingers slide through his chest hair, scratching along his skin as they glide up towards his neck. She grips the back of his hair with her fingers, grounding herself through the emotion of the entire evening. It was hard enough on her when she learned her parents disapproved of her lover. Harder still when she found out he was considering leaving her for what he assumed was her own good. Now, she can’t get enough of the soothing comfort that comes from being with him. 

 He reaches behind himself, easily shutting off the flow of the water so that the silence of the room consumes them. The only sounds between them are the weakened, aged fan and the sounds of their heavy breathing. 

 “I’m— I—.” She starts speaking, but cuts herself off in favor of kissing him again. 

 “Aye,” he agrees, and although he doesn’t know what she was going to say exactly, he has a hunch and hopes to any god who may be listening that he’s right.  

 “Take me to bed,” she asks against his mouth. “I need you.” 

 He doesn’t waste a moment; when Emma Swan tells him to take her to bed, he knows he’d better listen. Pushing the curtain aside, he holds it open for her and allows her to step out of the shower, holding onto her elbow in hopes that he’s offering her some semblance of support. It’s entirely unnecessary, though; Emma Swan is the strongest person he’s ever met. She gives him a soft smile in thanks, grabbing his towel off of the hook and using it to dry herself quickly before turning it towards him and tossing it into his hair. She scrubs the towel through the gray and black locks playfully, giggling when she lifts it over his eyes and smiling at him so brightly that he finds it impossible not to grin back. “Thank you,” he says softly, and she leans forward, holding the towel around his head and using it like a hood to pull him into a kiss. 

 What starts as chaste and gentle turns heated and passionate in second, her tongue sliding against his and her hands lighting a trail of fire as they scratch down his back. He picks her up easily, her slender frame much less heavy than the monsters he battled earlier, and carries her bridal style over the threshold of the bathroom and towards the bed they’ve been sharing. The bed in which he hopes to never sleep alone again. 

 He presses her down into the mattress, making her groan into his mouth and wrap her ankles around his hips. She’s desperate to pull him closer to her, to have him inside her until she’s seeing stars behind her eyelids. He never fails to bring her ecstasy, each time they’re together fighting for the title of ‘the best time’. When his fingers find her sensitive and soaked for him, he smirks against her lips and kisses her harder. When he slides into her, making her gasp with the welcome ache as he stretches her, they press their foreheads together and breathe each other in. He rocks into her slowly and gently, exactly as she needs him. He reads her effortlessly and flawlessly, stroking her above where their bodies join until she’s powerless to stop the desperate noises from filling the room. 

 She squeezes her entire body around him as they finish together, and she cries out his name in loving praise as he spills himself into her. He can’t get enough of her, the high of being with her is like a drug from which he will never be fully sated, and he will never stop trying to bring her pleasure and joy and contentment for as long as she allows him to stay by her side. 

 The hum that leaves her throat as they come down together relays exactly how he feels as well. They’re sated for now as they embrace each other, although he knows that his longing for her is only slightly extinguished, only to be fueled again with just the slightest encouragement from her. 

 “That was nice,” she breathes nonchalantly, making him smile softly through hooded eyes as he rolls onto his side to look at her longingly. 

 “That’s one word for it, I suppose,” he concedes, running his hand up and down along the length of her waist. Her eyes flutter shut at the tickling sensation and she leans close to him to press a soft kiss to his lips. 

 “Very excellent? As if I was being fucked by a savant? Is that better?” 

 “No,” he whispers, “I think you’re just making fun of my age again with that one.” 

 With a soft grin, she says, “you’re pretty slick for an old guy.” 

 “Hush.” 

 She snuggles into his chest, resting her head under his chin and kissing against his collarbone before uttering, “a quick nap, and then you’re taking me to dinner.” 

 “Your heart’s desire, Swan. I promise that’s all I want you to have.” 

 ~~~~

 There’s an old wives tale, apparently, that tuna are more active during a storm. At least, that’s what Killian told Emma when he left that morning with the sky bright red. She was expecting him to heed the weather advisory and the warnings given by the coast guard that it isn’t safe for small crafts to be out during the oncoming storm, but of course, he’s as stubborn as she is and dedicated to his career and to his crew. They all want to go out and catch fish, so that’s what they do. 

 It’s not like she doesn’t trust his abilities as the captain, because of course she does. And it’s not like she’s naive enough to think that he’s never been out in bad weather before. But they’d just had a heart to heart a few nights ago, and if she loses him to a storm, she’s certain that she’ll lose what’s left of her sanity as well. 

 The fact is, she loves him. She knows she does, and she knows that she has since the moment she met him. She doesn’t care that he’s older than her, or that he works seasonally, or that he considers himself to be not good enough for her. What matters is that he’s the kindest person she’s ever met. He’s the most generous man who’s ever been in her life. She’s never met someone so gentle and caring and utterly perfect, and she feels physically sick at the thought of losing what she has with him. 

 He makes her want to be a better person. He makes her strive for patience and understanding, rather than impulsivity. He makes her rethink her tendency to shut people out before they can hurt her. She’s better for having met him, and she fears what she could become if she loses him to a crashing wave or a sinking ship. 

 After he leaves, after she watches as he sets off into the open ocean, she heads to Granny’s, the wind already strong enough to push her in that direction. She has a room rented out, but she hasn’t been in it in days in favor of staying with Killian, locking themselves away from the world and letting themselves be consumed with one another. She dreads the idea of going to her empty room, the one that isn’t hers and Killian’s, but she’s in need of a good facemask after neglecting her routine for days on end, and she could use a change of clothes that don’t belong to him.

 After showering and, admittedly, taking an unexpected nap, she wakes ready for an order of grilled cheese and onion rings. The bell above the door chimes when she opens it, and Granny gives her a quick yet welcoming smile. “Afternoon,” she calls from behind the counter. “Want a seat with your folks?”

 Emma groans internally as she turns and sees her parents and brother sitting in a booth, each of them giving her a kind smile. She returns it, although hers is much tighter than theirs seem to be, and says, “sure,” in a less-than-convincing tone. 

 “Hi, honey,” Mary Margaret says when Emma approaches them reluctantly, and she tries (and probably fails) to hide her cringe. 

 “Hey.” 

 David slides over towards the wall, offering her the only available seat beside him. “Been a few days, huh? How’s it going?” 

 “Fine,” she shrugs. “I’ve been staying with Killian.” 

 She watches as her parents stiffen, her brother obviously indifferent to her dating life. “That’s… nice,” Mary Margaret forces out, her discomfort so plainly written across her face that Emma has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She didn’t come here to start anything, and she didn’t sit with them because she wanted to argue, but it’s becoming more and more difficult. 

 “Yes, it is nice. Killian is nice. And polite, and compassionate, and perfect in every way. So yes, it’s been a very pleasant few days.” 

 “I’m glad you’ve… I'm glad that you’re happy,” Mary Margaret chokes out. 

 “I am.” 

 They’re silent. Emma’s lunch is delivered to the table and they eat quietly, the only sounds between the four of them the bustle of the diner and the appreciative hum that David gives with each bite of soup. The wind whips outside, rattling the windows violently and blowing over a table on Granny’s patio. Many of the patrons stand, David and Leo included, and hurry outside to right the fallen piece of furniture, and Emma begins to gnaw at the short nail on her left thumb. 

 “It’s bad out there,” she remarks obviously, her leg bouncing up and down in quick, anxious succession. “I hope--” 

 She notes the way Mary Margaret looks out the window with wide eyes, realization setting in as the source of her daughter’s fear becomes obvious. “Emma, is he out there? In this weather?” 

 Emma looks at her mother and, for the first time since they’ve met, finds comfort in her eyes rather than a reason for distrust. “Yes,” she chokes out in a whisper, sucking her lips between her teeth. “He said he’d be fine, but…” 

 Mary Margaret nods in understanding. “It’s kind of bad out there.” Emma nods, too. “I can see why you’re so worried.” 

 “His boat is pretty small,” she explains, her voice shaking. “But he said it’s the best time to catch the fish.” 

 “That’s what your father always says, too,” Mary Margaret responds, reaching across the table and giving Emma’s hand a squeeze. For the first time since she’s met her mother, she doesn't pull away. “I’m sure he’ll be alright. He’s a knowledgeable captain.” 

 “He has been doing this a while,” Emma reasons, mostly with herself. 

 Mary Margaret sighs, giving Emma’s hand one final squeeze before letting go and leaning forward towards her daughter. “Sweetheart,” she starts, pursing her lips together thoughtfully. “I-- I’d like to apologize for the way your father and I reacted the other night. It wasn’t fair of us to judge your… relationship.” 

 Emma looks up into the eyes of the woman who gave birth to her, the woman who gave her away, and sees truth behind them. “It wasn’t,” she agrees. 

 “I can tell now that you truly care for him.” 

 “I do,” she nods. “Very much.” 

 “It’s just that,” she starts slowly, noticing her husband and son reentering the diner. “Well, you’re our little girl. It was surprising to find out that you’ve been seeing someone, never mind someone so much older than you. We just want what’s best for you.” 

 David sits beside Emma again and Leo takes his seat next to his mother, both of them looking as though they realize that they’ve walked into a pretty serious conversation. Emma thinks about holding back with their arrival, especially considering the presence of her brother, but she simply can’t. 

 “No offense or anything, but… I'm not your little girl. I never was. I never got the chance to be. And Killian’s age means nothing to me because he’s the best person I’ve ever known. No one else I’ve dated has ever treated me nearly as well as he has; no one listens to me or cares for me or loves me the way he does. And as terrifying as it is, because my dating history has seriously sucked, I know he loves me without even hearing him say it. And I… I love him too. And I’m really going insane right now not knowing if he’s alright out there, and you judging me for being with him isn’t helping how crazy I feel.” 

 The table is silent for an uncomfortable amount of time, and Emma chooses to go back to eating her onion rings and nervously bouncing her feet against the floor. Mary Margaret gulps, David’s wide eyes look between Emma and his wife, and Leo awkwardly eats his fries in the same way that Emma does. It’s the most painful silence she thinks she’s ever sat through. 

 “I’m sorry,” David finally says softly, turning his entire body so that he can face Emma. “It startled and surprised us when we found out, but you’re right. It isn’t fair for us to judge you. We’re clinging to the hope that you’d be, well, our little girl. But it’s time we realize that isn’t realistic and celebrate the time that we do get to spend with you. No matter who you choose to spend your time with.” 

 “Thanks,” she mumbles. She appreciates the sentiment, truly, but she gets the feeling there’s a but coming. 

 “I just hope that he feels as strongly for you as you clearly do for him.” 

 She tries her hardest to ensure that the look she gives him from the corner of her eye is not a glare, and she nods. “He does.” 

 “Alright, then,” David says casually, folding up his napkin and placing it on his plate before grabbing for his wallet. “Let's head to the docks and check the radar, then, shall we?” 

 Her eyes widen with anticipation and relief as she asks, “can you do that?” 

 “I’m the harbormaster. I can do whatever I want,” he says with a smirk and a wink shot in her direction. She follows him out of the booth with more enthusiasm than she’s felt all day, practically skipping out of the diner behind her father. 

 ~~~~

 “I can hear all of the long-range radio communications on here,” he explains once they arrive at his makeshift office. He pulls out his chair for her and lets her sit while he adjusts the receiver. “You’ll just have to listen out for him. So far, no distress signals or anything, though.” 

 “Good,” she agrees. She jumps in excitement when she hears a message coming through, and even though it isn’t from Killian, she knows he’s out there with this other captain. 

 She listens in silence for a while, David leaning against the table beside her and Mary Margaret and Leo standing off to the side and talking quietly. She hears many messages come in, many captains talking back and forth about the storm and the choppy waters and the dangerous conditions. A few of them have caught some fish, so she supposes it was worth it to them, but she hasn’t heard anything from Killian. 

 Eventually, after what feels like far too much time has passed, she hears someone ask for him. Emma desperately wishes there was a transmitter that would allow her to speak to him, but all she can do now is sit by and listen. 

 “Jolly, you still on?” the man asks, and David translates to let Emma know that they're wondering if Killian is still reeling in a tuna. 

 There isn’t a response, though. David explains that each captain should let the others in the fleet know when they’ve caught something, and Killian’s lack of response probably means that he and his crew are still wrestling with the giant beast. At least, that’s what she tells herself. 

 “Jolly Roger, come in. You guys still on?” 

 “Guess that means yes,” another captain responds after a moment. “‘Less he went overboard.”

 Emma pales, putting her hand over her mouth and biting her lip until David places his hand on her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “He’s joking,” he tells her. “They’re all like that. A bunch of ball-busters.” 

 She nods and gulps, listening on as the fleet’s captains joke with each other as if there isn’t a nor'easter threatening to capsize each and every one of them. As if it isn’t possible that it’s already taken the man she loves away from her. She hears one of them saying that they’re on their way back to the docks, having caught a fish big enough to justify ending their trip, and she silently begs anyone who might be listening that Killian is finishing up catching something big and will do the same. 

 Eventually, after far too long, someone speaks up and says, “I’m going in, too. Anyone hear from Jones?” 

 “No,” another answers. “He was fighting something big; hopefully they catch it soon. Gettin’ bad out here.” 

 Emma knows she can’t wait at the docks for him forever. It’s unrealistic, and she’s going to freeze to death. It’s nearly winter, and the mixture of snow and rain and heavy wind that assaults her in the scarcely covered dock is starting to soak down to her bones. But she can’t leave. She still hasn’t heard Killian’s voice over the radio-- it’s been pretty silent for the last hour-- and she can’t get herself to leave before she knows that he’s alright. 

 Mary Margaret apologizes as she leaves, bringing Leo with her to get warm. She says she’ll have a mug of cocoa waiting for Emma at Granny’s, but she isn’t sure when she’ll make it over there. Despite how cold and wet she is, she can’t leave here until he gets back. She can’t even think of the alternative to him coming back. 

 David waits with her for another hour. They’re fairly quiet, hardly any words exchanged between the two of them, but after some time passes, he starts to open up to her in a way she never expected. He tells her how grateful he is that she found them. He tells her how impossible it was for him and Mary Margaret to give her up, and that both of their parents essentially forced their hands due to their young age. He tells her how painful it was, finding out about Mary Margaret’s unplanned pregnancy and being faced with the reality that they could keep this child and they couldn’t keep her. He tells her how badly he wanted to try to find her, considering breaking the terms of the closed adoption that fell through for years. He had no idea that the family who adopted her initially had sent her back because once they agreed to place her for adoption, they gave up their right to know anything about her. 

 Tears spring into his eyes when he talks of wanting to give her her best chance. When he admits to her that giving her away was a mistake-- “the biggest I’ve ever made.” 

 When she was young, this is what she’d hoped for. She dreamt of her tortured parents, broken because of their decision to give her away. She’d hoped that they realized their mistake and regretted it every day. But now, seeing the way that the decision they made 25 years ago hurts her father, she wishes she could take his pain away. They didn’t have much of a choice at 17, what with having no income and no support from their families. They thought they were doing what was best for her; they can’t help that it didn’t work out that way. 

 “It’s alright, dad,” she finally says after some silence passes between them. She notes the way he looks up at her hopefully, his eyes still glassed over, and she realizes why. She’s never called him that before, never thought she ever would. But in this moment, with the support and honesty and love he’s shown her, she can’t think of him as anyone other than her father. Her dad. 

 She sniffles as she steps towards him, her eyes beginning to match his own, and she embraces him. It feels exactly how she’d hoped hugging her father would feel. It feels true, and loving, and she’s at peace here with him. 

 “I love you,” he says into her hair, his hand cupping the back of his head. “I always have, since the moment I found out about you. I’m so sorry I couldn’t give you the life you deserved.” 

 She doesn’t even think before she says, “I love you, too.” 

 A boat comes in and David buys their fish. When asked about the Jolly Roger, the captain shrugs and says he hasn’t heard from Killian since he got a tuna on his line, but that was hours ago. “Sometimes it takes a whole day to get them on the deck,” David tells her after the captain leaves. “With the weather, I'm sure they’re being challenged out there. But we would’ve heard a distress call if anything was wrong.” 

 She tells herself that he’s right, and that he would know, and sits back down at the table. She can’t torture herself standing by the entrance of the warehouse, getting soaked and becoming even more frozen as she stares out at the horizon. She distracts herself with her phone, trying to keep busy as she waits, wishing he would call or text her to let her know that he’s alright. 

 It’s nearly dark when David calls her over, and when she looks up, she sees a small vessel backing up towards the dock, Will and Robin tossing some rope around the post to keep the boat from floating out to sea. She stands with such force and hope that she sends the chair crashing to the ground, but she hardly notices as she starts running towards the stairs. It’s still windy and cold, but the snow and rain has slowed, making it just a bit safer as she sprints down the wooden stairs and across the dock where he’s landed. 

 “Killian!” she calls as she gets closer, and she sees him poking his head out from the small cabin at the sound of her voice, shutting off the engine and hurrying towards the edge of the deck. She doesn’t let him disembark, choosing instead to jump onto the deck and nearly shoving Will to the ground as she fights her way towards him, crashing into his sturdy arms. 

 “Bloody hell,” he whispers into her hair as he holds her close, his arms wrapping tightly around her and warming her in a way that nothing else possibly could. His sweater is damp, and she’s soaked to the bone, but neither of them care. She can finally breathe again with her nose against his neck and her arms around his waist, squeezing him close to her. 

 “Are you okay?” she finally asks against his skin. She pulls away so that she can look at him, holding his head in her hands and bringing his lips to hers in a relieved kiss. “Fuck,” she breathes when she pulls away. “I thought… I was so worried about you.” 

 “I’m sorry--” he says against her mouth when she kisses him again. He chuckles softly and tries again, “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to worry you.” His hand leaves her hip and brushes her wet hair out of her face, his fingers returning to trace gently over her cheek.

 “We listened to the radio, but we never heard from you. I thought something was wrong, or--” she cuts herself off, biting her bottom lip and staring into his eyes, as deep and blue as the ocean. 

 “The radio went out with some lightning. If I’d known you were listening… bloody hell. I’m so sorry, Emma.” 

 She tries to kiss him again, their lips touching for just a single, unsatisfying second before they're interrupted by Will. “Oi, you’re standing right over the fish, mate. You lot can canoodle after we get the check, aye?”

 They caught three giant fish, the maximum they’re allowed to have on their boat at one time. She supposes he was right about a storm being the best time to go fishing, but she doesn’t think she’d survive if he went out in this weather again. She wonders in the back of her mind if the hefty paycheck David gives them for their catch is influenced by her in any way, but she tries not to dwell on it. Afterall, it could be worse. At least her father somewhat approves of him now, or at the very least, tolerates the fact that they're together. 

 When they're done, he hands the keys to his mates and squeezes her hand. “I promise I’m not going out there in this weather again, love; not if it’s going to worry you. It isn’t worth putting you through that again.” 

 “Good man,” David says softly, nodding to himself as he packs up his supplies. “Ems, I’ll meet you at Granny’s? We should probably dry off.” 

 “Sure,” she responds with a nod and a smile. “Tell-- tell mom I’ll be there soon.” 

 David blushes and nods back at her, giving her a shy smile. “Will do, kiddo.” 

 They walk away hand in hand, both of them damp and freezing and in desperate need of the embrace of the other. 

 “‘Mom’?” he asks her when they're out of earshot, trekking towards the small cottage that’s been in his family for generations. She can hear the smile in his voice over the whipping winds, and can’t help but to smile as well. 

 “I had a very interesting day,” she explains casually, looking up at him and smiling before looking back down, careful as she navigates over the bumpy stone path that leads to his front door. It’s a very short walk; his house beside the lighthouse is prime real estate in the small fishing town. “Little heart to heart with my parents.” 

 “That’s wonderful, love,” he encourages, squeezing her hand as he fiddles with the lock with his other. When they finally get inside, out of the storm and into the warmth of his small living room, he says, “I’m happy for you.” 

 She hums and smiles softly, turning to him and wrapping her fingers around the neck of his rain and ocean soaked sweater. “You should start a fire,” she suggests in a whisper. “And get out of these clothes.” 

 “Aye, same could be said for you, angel. How long were you by the docks waiting?” he asks, running the tip of his finger along her temple and down her cheek. 

 “I don't know, it felt like hours.” 

 “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t realize you were waiting. I would've tried calling, but there was spotty reception.” 

 “It’s alright,” she whispers back, pushing her forehead against his and cupping the back of his head with her hands. “I’m just glad you're alright.” 

 “Aye.” 

 “And there's… there’s something I have to tell you.” 

 “What’s that?” 

 It doesn't matter that they're both nearly dripping on the floor of his entryway, or that her hair resembles a birds nest, or that he smells like fish. None of the imperfections matter because when they're together, they disappear. Everything that could make their moment together feel amiss fades into the background when she smiles and whispers, “I love you.” 

 His heart stops beating. He wonders if he’s old enough to have a heart attack. It doesn't matter, because Emma admitting her love for him will surely keep him alive if he is. He chokes slightly, swallowing and taking a deep breath and then laughing and shaking his head in disbelief. Emma Swan loves him. 

 She giggles, too, her nose brushing against his as she asks, “are you in there?” and taps her fingers on his temple. 

 “Aye, I’m just… bloody hell. I love you.” 

 “You do?” she asks happily, her smile nearly blinding. 

 “Yes,” he responds. “Unequivocally. More than I ever thought it was possible to love a person. My life was so mundane and futile until you came into it, but Emma, you’ve given me so much hope. You’ve made my life… worth it.” 

 She breathes out a laugh and sniffles, scratching her fingers along his scalp and shaking her head. “You old sap,” she chastises playfully, making him laugh too. “I couldn’t agree more.”

 Their kiss is perfect. They don’t need the heat of the fire to warm them up because the energy between them is enough. He doesn’t feel the need to strip off his clothes because of how soaked through they are; moreso because of how badly he needs to touch her. All he can think about is her body on his and the cursed amount of layers he’s adorning. He feels slightly less suffocated when she strips him of his thick sweater, but only slightly. 

 She moans as she pulls at his trousers, popping open the button and sliding the zip as far down as it’ll go. Reaching inside, she palms at the contours of his hardened length over his underwear. She giggles, the sound ringing through his ears joyously, when she tucks her fingers under his long underwear and is met with even more fabric. “You really layered up, huh, Captain?”

 He nearly chokes at her use of his title, never liking it falling from anyone else’s lips as much as he does hers, and nods. “A winter storm requires prep-- preparation,” he stutters. 

 His eyes grow about twice their size and his breathing completely stops as she sinks to her knees before him, making her smirk as she looks up at him through her lashes in a way that she knows drives him mad. She’s practically buzzing as she looks up at his bare chest, the veins in his arms popping out tantalizingly as she runs her nose along the soft fabric of his long underwear.  

 The sounds he makes are unintelligible, and she’s found that that is exactly what she seeks when she gets on her knees before him: to have him in such ecstasy that he can hardly make sense of his words. She bites at the fabric so that she can pull it down, his cock springing free so that she can lightly scratch her fingers through the hair at the base. She loves the way he’s peppered with white all over, and she knows he likes her appreciation for it. The fact is, she can’t get enough of his perfectly sculpted body, the spatterings of silver and black making her heart skip a beat each time she thinks about him. 

 She can tell when she’s about to take it too far based on the way he struggles to keep his hips still, so she slows her movements and releases him with a pop, licking her lips as she looks up at him seductively. 

 “Do you want me?” she asks in a low, growling whisper that’s only just audible over the sounds of the wind picking up just outside the door. 

 “If I ever don't immediately say yes to that question, please smother me with a pillow. It means my age has caught  up to me.” 

 “Impossible,” she chastises, standing slowly and removing her own sweater. “You may be old, but I know you’re young at heart.” 

 He shakes his head at her, moving quickly to scoop her into his arms until her ankles are locked around his waist. “What did we say about respecting your elders?” he growls into her ear, biting at the lobe as he walks them towards the bed. 

 With a hum, she asks, “are you going to punish me, Captain?” and he tosses her gracefully onto the mattress in response. 

 “Perhaps I'll simply make you beg.” 

 “Oh, I'm not above begging. I happen to know you’re quite the catch, so it'll be worth it.” 

 “Are you making fishing jokes while I’m trying to seduce you?” 

 The smirk she gives him is telling as he pulls her leggings over her hips and bites into her flesh, making her jump slightly. “Oh! I thought I was supposed to nibble on your rod?” 

 “Emma,” he laughs breathlessly. 

 She breathes out a laugh as well as he drags his tongue along her folds, not quite touching her where she needs him. “You really know how to lure me in, what can I say.” He bites the inside of her thigh silently, making her laugh aloud and then stutter as his tongue finds her clit. He keeps it there only momentarily, moving away in favor of peppering soft kisses around her thighs and over her hips. “Stop teasing,” she whines with her eyes squeezed shut, and he can see her smile growing before she says, “or should I say… baiting.”

 He growls playfully as he hurries up the length of her body, decidedly punishing her by refusing to put his mouth on her center, although he doesn't think she minds as his lips collide with hers and his fingers plunge into her entrance. “You’re quite funny,” he says against her mouth as he expertly curls his fingers up against the sensitive spot inside her.

 “Tha-- thank you,” she says, struggling to get the words out around her gasps and moans. “W-will you-- mmm, Killian.”

 “Yes, my love?” he whispers as he sucks a bruise into her neck. 

 “Fuck me.”

 He hums thoughtfully, slowing his fingers and pulling away from her so that he can purse his lips in pensivity. “No, I don’t think I will,” he tells her, his tone serious but the sparkle in his eyes anything but. 

 “Killian,” she whines, giving him a pout and gasping as he flicks his fingers over her clit. 

 She’s about to go mad, both with need and with absolute irritation at him, before he places his lips at the shell of her ear, lining his hardened cock up to her entrance, and whispers, “I’d much rather make love to you,” as he thrusts inside. 

 Emma doesn’t even have time, never mind the wherewithal, to berate him for his jest. She clings her fingertips into the backs of his strong shoulders, weathered by the sun and battered with the exhaustion of his livelihood. Their mouths fuse together tightly, neither of them willing to be any further from the other than they absolutely have to. 

 She whimpers against his lips as he strokes his fingers against her expertly, touching her exactly as she needs him to. He pulls slightly from her kiss, his mouth hovering over hers, and she knows he’s going to ask if she’s alright without him needing to. 

 Rather than wait for the question, she says, “I love you,” into the barely open space between them. 

 Killian doubles down on his efforts, driving into her with passion and love, the likes of which she’s never felt before. He breathes his love for her into every inch of her skin, his movements echoing his words until she gives him one last warning whimper and they fall apart in each other’s arms. 

 “I love you,” he whispers against her skin. “You mean everything to me.”

 She gives him a soft smile, running her fingers soothingly into his hair as he collapses against her chest, his own heaving with each breath. “I certainly got more than I bargained for when I came here.”

 “Aye.”

 “Before I came,” she whispers, pausing to collect her thoughts. “Before I met you, it was like I was sinking. Like I could barely stay above water and I was one big wave away from capsizing.”

 He smirks against her skin, chuffed at her nautical references despite his teasing earlier, and says, “I believe I know what you mean, angel.”

 “And then I met you, and it was like I jumped overboard.” Turning his head so that he can look up at her, he raises a brow. “I was clinging to this dinky little boat that was sinking, you know? I was clinging to this idea of how my life couldn’t have gone. But I met you and you showed me that it’s okay when things don’t go the way we hope they will. You helped me see that it’s okay to let go, because…” she shrugs, busying her fingers in his hair. “Well, I guess because there was a life raft waiting for me. You.”

 With a deep blush, he shakes his head in disbelief of the woman before him, pressing a kiss to her chest before pressing up onto his elbows and finding her lips with his. “I love you,” he whispers. “You’ve changed my life for the better, you know. I was quite the half-drunken recluse before you came to town.” 

 “I know,” she whispers with a satisfied smile. “We make quite the pair.” 

 “That we do.”

 They lie in comfortable silence for a few more moments, Killian’s arms wrapped around Emma and his head on her chest as her fingers continue their ministrations through his hair. Eventually and reluctantly, they remember that they’re meant to meet her parents at Granny’s for dinner, and peel themselves off of one another just long enough to make it to the shower. They clean each other, after dirtying themselves once more under the water, and resign themselves to the difficulty they have keeping their hands off of one another. 

 Once at dinner, they tame themselves as much as they can, but neither of them miss the narrow-eyed looks being shot their way by David and Mary Margaret. Killian can’t help himself, though. She makes him feel alive; like a teenager in love for the first time. At the end of the night, after his confession that he plans to never sail through a storm again if it will ease his love’s worries, David shakes his hand and claps his shoulder wordlessly. 

 Three months later, after they’ve moved the rest of Emma’s things into his small cottage, she walks into the kitchen and catches him laughing elatedly with her mother before being pulled in for a tight hug. She wants to ask what they’re so excited about, but stops herself to take in the sight of the two of them finally getting along. It means so much more than her mom liking her boyfriend. 

 Their life together is perfection-- everything they could have hoped for and more-- and he can’t wait to ask her to spend the rest of it by his side. 

~~~~

~~~~

Tagging: @courtorderedcake​ @kmomof4​ @stahlop​ @klynn-stormz​ @laschatzi @emelizabeth88​ @lfh1226-linda​ @kday426​ @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story​ @captain-emmajones​ @gingerpolyglot​ @ebcaver​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @teamhook @superchocovian​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @tiganasummertree​ @gingerchangeling​ @jrob64​ @onceratheart18​ @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89​ @swampmedusa​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @dancingnancyy​ @love-with-you-i-have-everything​ @shireness-says​ @snowbellewells​​ @hollyethecurious @ouatpost​ @daxx04​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @donteattheappleshook​​ @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay​​ @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere​​ @alexa-fangirl-forever​​ @jonesfandomfanatic​​ @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts​​ @spaceconveyor

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Open Me Carefully

summary: spencer reid and reader are best friends, but don’t realize that they both love each other. 

author’s note: crappy summary, but this one is loosely based on gold rush 

warnings: none

Open Me Carefully 

Maybe it’s the fact that I have a propensity to keep rereading historical romances, or maybe it’s the fact that I just listen to “Lover” way too much for a single person. Or maybe, I’m actually in love with him, my best friend and the only person in this world who I think truly knows me. 

I mean, how could I not be completely in love with him. Spencer Reid is the closest thing to perfection. He is kind, brilliant, and unbelievably handsome. It almost hurts me how wonderful he is. But daydreaming about Spencer’s hair falling in his eyes, or his hands grazing across the map spread out on the table, or even his wide smile that slips out when he lets his guard down is not productive to solving crimes. 

Unsubs, Y/N. Unsubs. Stop thinking about his hands. And start focusing. 

“Y/N/L!” Calls Hotch from across the room. He’s assigned me to locate the birth mother of the potential unsub. He was given up for adoption as an infant, but bounced around from foster home to foster home, never finding a home, and now obsessed with finding his roots. 

“Yes, sir, here’s the name from Garcia. Susan Lee gave up her baby for adoption in 1981, she was a just 16 years old, so that would make her-”

“44 years old” Spencer injected. 

Hotch gave me a short nod of approval and I cocked my head towards Spencer’s direction, who tried to pull off an innocent look. 

“It’s math, Y/N. I can’t help myself,” he explains. 

“It’s fine, Spence. Math is like your religion,” I tell him, but what I’m really thinking is it’s you, Spence, and you can get away with anything with me. 

“Math, in its purest form, is a beauty known nowhere else” he remarks. 

“Who’s that Nietzsche?” I ask him as he beams down at me, twirling a blue permanent mark between his very distracting fingers. 

“No, Spencer Reid.” he says as he turns back to the map on the table before us.

Just as I give myself the smallest bit of a second to enjoy the playful banter that falls between us, JJ and Emily come walking in, leading a gruff looking detective with them. 

“We think we know where Jacob is hiding out,” JJ starts with a grim look on her face. Emily and the detective walk past her to where Hotch and Derek explain the profile to the SWAT team waiting by. 

“His old orphanage, right?” Spencer asks looking up from the map.

“Yeah, and we think he’s going to hold some of the other children hostage,” JJ tells us. 

“We need to get there, JJ. But isn't it his mother he wants, not the other children. You’d think that with the profile we came up with, it would make more sense for him to want to save the children, not hold them hostage?” I reason.

“You’re right, Y/N,” Spencer says, coming to a dark realization “he thinks that he’s saving them. He’s Angel of Death” he finishes grimly. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting quietly in the jet after the chaos of de-escalating a hostage situation is a calm like no other. We all have routines for the ride home. A quiet ritual that we take the time to be thankful that we’re all here, in one piece, having made the world slightly more safe. 

JJ, ever diligent, will work on paper with Hotch. Rossi will usually keep Hotch from overworking with a small, light conversation. 

Emily spreads out on the couch, and the rest of us pretend to not see JJ glance over at her as she looks at Emily with eyes that crave her attention.  

Derek will listen to music and I’ll close my eyes and strain my ears to make out the muffled tunes that escape his ears. I sit across from Derek and will share snacks that we grabbed from a dingy convenience store on the way to the tarmac. 

Spencer, who always sits next to me, will usually write his mother a letter. He writes her a letter on every plane ride after a case. I think back to the time that I asked him why he prefers letters to phone calls. He told me that he finds letters a forever way to say ‘I love you’. Taking your love and turning it into pen and paper makes it tangible, is what he told me. Until that day, I never really pegged Spencer to be a poet, but he continues to amaze me everyday. 

I think that he can feel me staring at him, because he suddenly stops writing and his eyes look up to meet mine. 

“She’s not doing so well, Y/N” Spencer says, his voice but a whisper above the hum of the jet and music spilling from Morgan’s headset. 

“Your mom?” I ask, my voice matching his. 

Spencer, for perhaps the first time I’ve known him, is quietly defeated.

“All I ever wanted to do was to save her, Y/N. Sometimes I feel like I’m not doing everything I should be. I thought that by the time I was 30 I would have cured schizophrenia. It’s just that sometimes I feel like maybe I settled” 

“Well, you know we really don’t hear about child genius when they are adults. And you have the same job and me, and I’m not where near as smart as you. So you feel like you’re letting the world down or even worse— yourself”

“You might not have the IQ points on a piece of paper, but you are nothing short of brilliant” Spencer says looking at me directly in my eyes. I hold his gaze for maybe a second and look down towards my lap in disbelief. 

“Spence,” I say. “You have to say that, otherwise I’d stop making you chocolate donuts.”

“I don’t need your donuts to convince me that you are an amazing agent. I mean,” He pauses and holds my stare again. 

“You’re so kind it hurts me sometimes. And watching you those kids today, you’d be a great mom, Y/N. You make everyone feel so comfortable just being around you, and I’d give up all the chocolate donuts and IQ points and bottomless coffee if it meant you’d stay in my life,” Spencer says looking at me. I rest my hand over his and we sit there in the silence and comfort of the other. 

Spencer Reid is a man of many hats. But I think his way with words just may be my favorite. I don’t dare to respond to him. I don’t trust myself not to kiss his pink lips as he looks at me like he loves me. I don’t trust myself to not tell him all the wonderful and sinful things I think about him. I don’t trust myself to not tell him how I was watching him play with those orphans back at the police station.

“What’s a best friend for, Spence?” I say to him. 

“Besides, ’d want nothing more than to be a mom one day,” I tell him.  We never really talked about our futures. Maybe it was the nature of our jobs. Having a lethal job means that the future is more of an arbitrary idea than a definite possibility.

“But,” I start. “I'm twenty-seven years old, I've no money and no prospects. I'm already a burden to my parents and I'm frightened” I quote with a smirk on my face that covers my trepidation at talking about love and children and the future with Spencer. 

“I’d never think that you’d be one to settle for a Mr. Collins, Y/N” Spencer tells me, a similar look on his face mirrors my own. “If anything, you’re a Lizzie and you deserve a Mr. Darcy” 

“You really think that Spence, because I’m not too sure.” 

“You never know, Y/N your Mr. Darcy can be anyone. Statistically speaking, you may have already met him or have mutual friends or he may even work in the Bureau. 

Sometimes I think that luck and fate are mocking me. Dangling Spencer in front of me; so real yet so far that I’m jumping to remain close to him. Touching his hand to mine feels like I’m teasing myself, just getting a taste of how his warm, strong hands fit into mine is enough to set my heart on fire. 

I let go of his hand and my palm is cold and lonely without his touching. My heart cools but there’s a yearning for him that’s so strong it’s like a magnetic field pulling me in. 

“I’m going to get a cup of coffee, would you like some?” He asks me as he scoots out of the seat.

“I’ll take a green tea, coffee this late makes me anxious” And sitting here holding your hand talking about children and my Mr Darcy makes me even more anxious. 

“Coming right up,” he says with a sad smile on his face that I try to convince myself is because of his mother’s illness and not because I dropped his hand.

Spencer returns to his spot beside me, sipping his coffee and making small notes in his letter. There’s a chill between us that can’t be quelled by even the hottest cup of tea. Spencer doesn’t talk to me again and even though it’s just a couple more hours, I miss his voice.

I have a routine for when I come home after cases, but that routine has been thrown out the window when I watched Spencer walk out of the bullpen without as much as a wave goodbye. We usually go to my apartment and make dinner together. My trip home is a lot more lonely without Spencer by my side. I try to stop my thoughts from going to him, but it’s impossible when he’s all I can think about. 

My apartment is dark and quiet when I walk in. It was left in shambles, with clothes and books strewn all over the couch, desk and floor. I can’t even bother myself to care about the dirty dishes stacked in the sink. I convince myself that those dishes are a tomorrow problem. 

I take out a small container of leftover fried rice and vegetables and pop into the microwave. Making my way into my bedroom I change out of my work clothes, that I’ve been in for nearly 30 hours. I don’t really think about what I’m putting on, as long as it does not smell it works with me at this point. 

My microwave dings, altering me that my mediocre meal is finished. But, before I can even reach the kitchen a small envelope slips through my door and falls on the floor. A sudden rush of fear courses through me. I flit my eyes to the corner safe where my gun rests. In my mind, I try to calculate the risk of punching the code or if I should just find out who is behind my door. I guess curiosity wins out, because I’m walking towards the door where the mysterious envelope sits. 

I reach down and instantly recognize the handwriting as Spencer’s. I can feel my heart pumping blood through my bodying as I think that some sadistic unsub is trying to toy with me by hurting Spencer.

I was not prepared for what I read. My fingers grazed over the messy penmanship. I don’t even let my mind wander as I pour over the words on the page, still fearing for the worse

Dear Y/N, 

Part of me can’t believe that I’m actually doing this. But something that you mentioned on the plane sparked something in me. You’re not a Charlotte, or a Lizzie or even a Jane, even though you are the kindest and most beautiful person I know. 

You are a Y/N. And I am wishing for anything to be your Mr. Darcy. Thinking about you, Y/N gets me thinking about love. How much I love when you look at me across from the table, or how your soft hands will brush against mine. It reminds me that I’m alive. Your gaze makes me blush and those small brushes make me forget to breathe. In your eyes I can see my future— our future. In your smile I can taste happiness. When I am with you the world moves in slow motion and time seems to move too fast. 

I hope that this does not ruin things, Y/N. I could not bear to lose you. I hope that you won’t hate me but even if you do, I’d rather you hate me and be in your life than not be in your life.

I think of love, and you, and my heart grows full and warm, and my breath stands still

Forever yours, 

Spencer

I read the letter silently. Not sure if I can believe it, but I so desperately want to. I throw all sense to the wind when I fling the door open, my eyes hunting for Spencer. He sits on the steps leading up to the next level, fiddling with his shoe laces. I run over to where he sits, not caring that my neighbors might be looking or caring that I look like I’m about to mug him. 

He makes me, cautious girl, a rebel. 

“Hey, you,” I say approaching him. Spencer moves to stand up and I reach out to hold his hands in mine. Like a puzzle piece they hit perfectly. His hands are not too warm or clammy or too cold and boney. They’re perfect. He hesitates and rubs his thumb against the back of my palm, like he does on the plane. 

“Hi, Y/N.” He starts nervously. “I guess you got the letter, and I just want to tell you-”

“What letter, Spence?” I say. I can’t help but to tease him. His face turns pale and green in the same breath. 

“Uh-um, you didn’t just get something in your mail a couple minutes ago?” He asks me so nervously that I almost feel bad at teasing him. Almost, he’s kind of cute when he’s stumbling over his words and I like to be one that makes him this fluttery. 

“I got your letter, Spencer,” I tell him. I think he half expects me to drop his hand and shatter his heart then and there. Maybe he came here and prepared himself for the worse. I think he’s done that his whole life, believing that he doesn’t deserve a chance at happiness. I’m kind of inclined to give him that happiness when it’s so intricately tied to mine. 

“You did?” 

“Yeah, who knew that you were quite the poet, Spencer.” I tell him as I brush his hair from his eyes. It’s gotten so long, but I like it. I’ve dreamt about threading my fingers threw it many times. It’s so soft and brown and frames his face. 

“You deserve a poet, Y/N. And I could only dream of being that person for you.” He says. Against even his own wishes he leans in closer to my touch. His cheek is warm in my palm and I feel his long eyelashes flutter against the ball of my thumb. 

“Luckily for you, Spence, I like scientists.” I say to him. 

“You--” 

“I love you back, Spencer.” I move to wipe the tears that flood down the bridge of his nose. 

“It was a really beautiful letter that you wrote, Spencer. All the right things in there, Emily Dickinson and Mr. Darcy,” I tell him pressing my cheek into his chest. 

“Well, I had to win you over, Y/N” 

“Ha!, Spencer you’ve had me since I’ve met you” 

He looks at me with a veil of disbelief. 

“Spencer Reid, in his purest form, is a beauty known nowhere else” 

“Is that what you think of me?” He asks me. 

“Why don’t you come inside and let me show you what I think of you Spencer?” I say leading him inside to my apartment, that was no longer so dark and lonely. 

[enigma-im]

First Day of Christmas...

Trope: Childhood friends who remeet as adults Relationship: Orc x Human Word Count: 3,323

I wander around by the creek during a hot summer day. My mother has warned me against traveling here alone, but the chance of catching a frog to terrorize the other kids is far too tempting. With a stick in hand, pants legs rolled up, I waddle through the shallow. Little fish swim by my toes, frogs scurrying out from under the mud. The task is far more challenging than I thought. I poke the stick at every leaping creature, falling short every time.

"What are you doing," a boy asks from the other side of the creek. Startled, I snap to attention, looking at a small orc. He looks to be older than me, definitely taller, but how can I know?

"catching frogs," I answer.

"really? Why," he asks.

"I don't know," I grumble," because frogs are neat." I look to my feet, spotting a frog lazily swimming by. I ready my stick, slowing guiding it towards it's back. As fast as I can manage I push down. Crouching down I look to the stick, huffing in frustration as I'm left empty-handed.

"Why a stick," he interrupts my pity party.

I shrug," it's how Tommy Howser caught his frog."

"Well Tommy Howser is an idiot," he chuffs, bending down to roll up his pants.

"Oh yea," I snap," why is that?"

He trod through the water," because you're just stabbing the frog, so unless you want to eat them I suggest not poking them super hard with a stick."

The orc stops before me, snatching the stick from my hand with a huff. He tosses it aside before looking around. I watch him, observing his small tusks and short shaggy hair. I've never seen an orc with short hair. He catches my attention, pointing to the shore. I spot a frog resting on the bank, the water barely lapping at its body. The orc sneaks over, hands raised as he angles himself. Quickly, he strikes out, cupping his hands around the frog. He pinches the little creature by the legs, making it stretch out as he walks over all smug.

"See, Tommy Howser is an idiot," he grins. I ignore the jab, waddling over to look at the frog.

"Whoa," I reach out and pet it," you were so fast!"

"Of course I am," he puffs his chest," I am orc, orcs are meant to be quick and strong."

I don't pay him any mind, stretching out my hands," can I hold it?"

"Yea," he arranges his grip," pinch him around the legs and he can't hop away." I nod eagerly. I do as he says, pinching the legs, holding it with utter fascination. The little guy wiggles in my hand, it's legs trying to kick, but he can't get away. I admire it's dark green skin, comparing it to the orc's similar tint.

"I'm Lum, by the way," he says.

I smile up at him," I'm Thea. You think you can teach me how to catch a frog?"

"Of course I can," he thumps his chest," I can teach you anything."

We spend the afternoon waddling around the creek, catching and releasing frogs together.

The summer is spent similarly to that day. We upgrade from frogs to fish, from fish to birds. I learn a great deal about hunting from him, enjoying myself more than I ever have. I even get to teach him a few things, though nothing as useful as what he teaches me. The day I find out he doesn't know what tag is, is the day I begin my mission to play every child's game I know.

In the middle of fall, I sit down next to Lug eating lunch. He has been silent most of the day, barely saying anything even when I bait him into a conversation.

"What's wrong, Lug," I finally ask, setting my apple down. He sighs, dropping his head.

"I'm leaving next week," he pouts.

"Leaving," I ask," where?"

"I don't know, just south," he answers," my ma told me we have to follow the herd for winter."

I scoff," I don't even know what that means. Why would you follow a herd?"

He smiles, turning to me," we follow the herd so we don't starve. The land becomes barren in the winter and we need to eat a lot as orcs. So if we follow the herd, we can follow the food."

I huff, arms crossed," well I don't like it." Lug chuckles, scooching closer to give me a side hug.

"It's ok, Thea, we come back here every spring. So I'll be back, it will just be a while," he squeezes my shoulder," besides, it's not like I can teach you anything in the winter anyway. Everything is migrating or hibernating that hunting here would be difficult."

I push off his arm, pouting as I turn my back on him," I don't care, I want my friend here."

I hear him sigh, the leaves crunching as he walks around. His feet stop in front of me, crouching to catch my eye. I give in, looking at his stupid cocky face. He drops a hand onto my shoulder.

"I'll be back by the time the last snowfall melts, I swear it," he places his hand on his heart," I make an oath to always come back."

I snort back some snot," you better."

"I will. Now enough with this mushy stuff," he stands," I bet I can catch more frogs than you."

I hop up to my feet," you wish!"

The winter was sad, like many after that. As he promised he comes back every spring, meeting me by the creek with a cocky smile and slightly longer hair. He always has something new to teach me, happy to do so. My father doesn't much care for it once he found out, but I could hardly care.

My parents find out about Lug the first spring he came back. They noticed my dower mood during the winter then my grand smile in the spring. To my surprise they were alright with Lug, asking to meet him. We share a meal, my father asking way too many questions till mother shoos us off to play.

Every spring is started with a meal with my parents then a long recap on our winter. It's a lovely tradition that lasts a few years.

Lug and I are strong friends well into the years. Things hardly change between us, being close as ever. We play and fight, arguing and making up quickly. Growing into our own as we become teenagers. My father hovers around then, setting curfews and weird rules. The attitude change with my father and Lug is one I had to confront Lug about. He waved it off as nothing, distracting me easily.

It isn't till 15 that I understand why father was so uptight with Lug's and I's friendship. Weeks of build-up brings me to startling discoveries about new wants. I've been looking at Lug in a new light, noticing him doing the same. He is my first kiss, sharing an awkward chaste one near the creek. It's weird and right at the same time. That summer we learn very different things besides hunting and gathering. Kisses become way more enjoyable after a while.

My sixteenth year is the worst year of my life.

Fall approaches too fast, I've never had a reason to hate fall until Lug came into my life. The trees changing colors now puts me in a sour mood. The walk to the creek knowing that it may be the last time this year that I get to is troublesome. Though Lug has ways of distracting me from those thoughts until he has to wave goodbye that evening.

I meet Lug by the creek like usual, plopping down beside him with a huff. He seems far worse than I do today, the worry rising more and more the longer he stays silent. I grab his hand, threading my fingers between his.

"What's wrong," I bump his shoulder. He sighs, squeezing my hand in his.

"I have something to tell you that I know you won't like," he starts, his voice low and angry. It's rare to hear him angry, only truly seeing him mad once when his father forbade him from joining the hunting pack when he was a fresh teen.

"You can tell me anything, I can take it," I try to be courageous. It's easier to act strong when he needs it.

"I'm leaving for a little longer than before," he glances at me out the corner of his eye.

"W-well, that's ok," I try to be optimistic," I've waited months for you, what's a few more?"

He winces," it's not going to be just a few months."

I stutter on my attempt of cheer," a-a year? That's ok, I'll be fine. It's just one year, right?" he looks up to me, his eyes a bit red. My heart squeezes at the sight.

"It's a lot longer than a year, Thea," he answers. My throat tightens, threatening to choke me.

"H-How long," I ask, trying to fight back the stinging in my eyes.

"I don't know, I just know it's going to be a long time," he says, reaching out to cup my face," but I promise I'll be back. I will come back for you." he tugs my head down, resting his forehead against mine.

I sniffle," you better," I mimic the words I said that first time. He chuckles, lifting my hand and twisting it palm up. His hand covers mine, something cold sitting between our palms.

"I vow to you that I'll be back, and you know an orc never breaks their vows," he thumps his chest. I clench whatever's in my hand as I laugh.

"Yea, I know," a tear rolls down my cheek. He pets the drop away, pulling me in for a kiss. It's bittersweet, but sweet nonetheless.

We sit like this, holding one another for longer than necessary. He reluctantly lets me go, getting up off the ground. We part with a final kiss, neither one of us ready to let go knowing that we won't see one another tomorrow.

"I love you, Thea," he pecks my forehead.

I shut my eyes," I love you too, Lug."

He leaves me standing near the creek. I cry to myself, nearly falling back to the ground in my pain. I finally look to my hand, uncurling my fingers to see a thread with a wooden totem attached to it. I smile despite it all, admiring the little carving with care. I'll see him again, even if I have to wait a lifetime.

Fall becomes winter, winter becomes spring. It's hard to see the snow melt knowing that Lug won't be waiting for me. I still end up waiting by the creek, looking at the frogs as I remember the many failed attempts of snatching one. Every year I come back to the creek, hoping that this year would be the year. I always leave feeling a little more empty.

Time goes on as I grow into my own, no longer a bumbling teen but a grown woman. I get my first job at a bakery, working for a family friend until their son can take up the business. It's humbling work, though suitors take the chance to flirt while I cook in the back. My father is rather angry that I shoo off the young men trying to get a nibble of something more than pastries. I can't bring myself to argue with him.

I gain my second job at a bar, working as a waitress in my 20s. The lively people bring on a new level of enjoyment that the bakery didn't have. Fellows still take the chance to flirt but it's easier to cast aside as they are mostly drunk. Travelers come in, sharing tales of the adventures that make the time go by quicker. I like my job, though going home makes the emptiness inside louder.

I wipe up the bar, picking up empty glasses and litter as I go. The night is rather dull, only having the normal regulars in. it's to be expected as the winter comes to an end. Business should pick up as spring begins and the critters come out of their holes for mating season. The bell at the front door rings, catching my attention.

I look up to see an orc walking in.He is rather large, clearly strong, and proud of it. His hair is braided down his back, beads adorning a few smaller strands. He is very handsome like most orcs are. I don't pay him any mind, use to orcs quickly finding their spots and calling out their orders.

Polishing a glass I catch sight of the orc sitting in front of me at the bar. His large hands rest clasped on the bar top, a ring resting around his thumb.

"Hello," I smile sweetly at them," what can I get ya?"

He smirks, dropping his eyes to his hands," Fire Brandy, please."

"Please? Already the most polite customer I've had this month," I tease as I grab a tumbler, pouring his brandy.

"Is please such an unused word nowadays? Damn the discipline of mothers, not teaching their children manners," he jokes back. I snort, passing him his drink.

"well said," I knock on the bar," a please and a thank you can get you far these days."

"That right? The only thing it's gotten me is brandy and a word of praise from a cute barmaid," he smirks.

I fluster at his words, turning away to grab a dry rag," don't know about that last bit but I hope you know basic manners doesn't pay for your drink."

"Damn," he huffs," what's the point now, ain't getting anything out of it."

"Gets my respect," I offer.

He pretends to ponder," I'll take it."

I smile to myself, focusing on polishing the glasses. The orc watches me, drinking his brandy slowly. I pass him a few glances, blushing each time he offers me a smile. He really is cute, but I can't say that I'm too interested.

"Lovely necklace you have there, can't say that I've seen that totem too often," he says. My hand immediately grasps the little wood craving, my heart fluttering with the action.

"Yea, a friend made it for me," I answer casually.

"A friend? I don't think that's what that totem means," he leans forward on the bar, inspecting the carving.

"Well, friends is just an easier term. We weren't lovers, being too young for something like that," I blush at the idea.

"Yea? Don't mind telling me about this 'friend' while I waste some time," he asks. I can't help but jump at the offer, wanting to finally break the seal that's bound these memories away. Mother and Father didn't want to hear about Lug so often. Which is understandable.

"No, you don't wanna hear a story of lost love," I shuffle away, putting the freshly polished glasses away.

"Of course I do, what better story than one with young love," he rests his chin on his head," please, I'd love to hear it."

I watch him, nearly smiling at his devoted attention. With a sigh, I lounge against the bar.

"We met when we were like eight, at least I was eight. I was catching frogs by the creek when he just appeared across the way," I start.

"Why were you catching frogs? I thought little girls hated that kind of stuff," he asks.

I shrug," I wanted to show off to the boys that I could catch a frog too. One of them said he caught one using a stick to trap it against the dirt. I wanted to try it."

He scoffs," why would anyone use a stick to catch a frog?"

"I don't know," I laugh," he probably didn't want to get his hands dirty."

"Damn Tommy Howser," he shakes his head with a smile," such a wimpy boy."

"Yea, he was," I laugh with him," makes sense he moved out to the city then."

"He moved out to the city? Gods, his parents should have taken him there when he was a child," he scoffs. I can't help but smile, the words taking a bit longer to register. When it does, I startle.

"How did you know about Tommy Howser," I ask. He stiffens.

"Uh, I heard about him," he lies," from other people."

I cross my arms," what other people? Tommy hasn't lived here in three years." he flounders for another lie, falling short with a sigh of defeat.

"Hello, Thea," he nibbles on his cheek," I see you kept the necklace."

I freeze. It can't be, surely this large hulking orc couldn't possibly be him.

"Lug," I ask with a choked cry. He smiles wide, nodding. I can't speak, my eye stinging as I finally see the resemblance. He truly has grown into the man he always said he would be. As handsome as he was seven years ago.

Without much thought I jump over the bar, him helping me down before pulling me close. I hug him, my arms barely touching around his hulking frame. A sob rips from my throat as I cry tears of pure joy. He pets my back, nuzzling his head against mine.

"I'm sorry I took so long," he mumbles as he kisses my cheeks," I didn't expect to be gone so long. I apparently had a lot more to learn from the elders than I anticipated."

"You’re here now," I look up at him," that's all the matters."

Lug smiles like a fool before roughly pushes his lips against mine, his tusks way more prominent now than when we were kids. I cup his rough cheek, feeling the hairs prick at my palm. He is so different now, but still exactly the same. God, I've missed him.

We part, smiling like idiots in love. He wipes the tears off my face, I pet at his cheek. My heart feels ready to explode at the happiness coursing through my veins. Lug looks the same with his great toothy grin and wondering hands.

"I waited for you, I'm so glad I did," I look him over," you got hot."

He barks out a boisterous laugh," glad you think so, I got big and strong for you. And you…gods, you look amazing."

"oh stop," I blush.

"No," he tugs my hips to his," now that I finally have you I'm going to shower you with sweet praises and worship your body like a holy temple." I gulp, my insides turning to mush as he leans down to kiss at my neck.

"Whoa, let's slow down," I grab at his braid," I'm still at work."

He growls in frustration, pulling back," alright. How much longer?"

"Till close, which should be soon," I answer," you don't mind waiting around, right?"

"I've waited seven years, what's a few more hours to that," he says.

Lug keeps me company till the last patron leaves. The second I finish the last bit of cleaning he has me in his arms, kissing me breathless. He has half a mind to pull back, smiling down at my dazed face with glee.

I break out of his arms, grabbing his hand to tug him out the bar and into the cold night. I pull him down into a kiss, not able to hold off for another second.

"I love you, lug," I mumble against his lips.

"I love you too, Thea," he answers in kind.

"Are you going to take me home now," I ask with a wicked grin.

He growls, lifting me up and over his shoulder. I laugh, blushing as he palms my rear. I've missed him so much and we have a lot of time to make up.

[becausethathappens]

Will you please write a super angsty fic where Link is freaking out because he thinks the wedding vows he has written aren't good enough and Rhett helps him go over them and make corrections and says they're perfect but also, just says the vows he would say for Link if it was them like it should've been because he's heartbroken and Link can tell but their hands are tied and they don't know what to do so they soldier on without saying a word, but wordlessly communicating lifelong love and misery and everything, maybe comfort as well?

i'm really really sad and i can't shake it off and i really want some good angst and hurt/comfort and i really love you, maura, you're awesome

I don't do unhappy endings, anon. I'm confident you don't either. In fiction or otherwise. So, pardon this if it’s not what you expected.

Please enjoy? This was done a little hastily to share it with you (and I should be writing other things per usual) but I've had a rough week and I want to hopefully make someone smile. (I have way angstier stuff in the drafts and I will be sure to get those out eventually, too.) You’ll feel better soon.  🤞  Thank you! 💞

-———————-

now or forever

4k - Rhett writes Link vows.

If you were my boy, Blue

I’d bathe you in honeys (sp?)

I’d sing write you a love song

I’d shoot you a star**

If you were my boy, Blue

There ain’t nothing in this life I wouldn’t give

From my heart, to my toes, to my fingers, my nose (**)

Whatever it takes just to watch you live 

continue to ‘ ’ grow with you like a vine ‘round a rose 

If you were my boy, Bue

I wouldn’t want you all for myself

There’s no star bright enough to match your lightin’

In sickness, blue, so certainly while we have health

Hand in hand, no longer fightin’

What’s destiny (**)

You and & me

If you were my boy, Blue

I'd marry you

&

Thank God for Rhett. Giving him, delivering him, blessing him with Rhett.

Link is in the middle of a spiral (what he’ll later recognize as a panic attack) when Rhett arrives, the eve of his wedding. Bailing him out of this with pen, paper, and a smile.

Link has always been good at improv.

Though Rhett tended to find the words to start. These were his own vows and Link has been putting time to sit and start them off for weeks. Now that he has to, he’s dumbfounded, despite being deeply in love.

Amidst all the planning and chaos, writing his vows was such a given that Link left it as priority sixty-seven on a list of many more.

Unfortunately, even as busy as they’ve been, that list was shredded with the “who gifted what” tracking sheet (both literally, accidentally, and figuratively) back around the bridal shower and it’s been anarchy ever since.

So he thanks God for Rhett, who’s here, to stop another needless disaster from happening.

That same generous God, however, watches him plagued with thoughts of utter devotion at Rhett’s willingness to drop everything on a weeknight and rush over to help Link find his words.

His lyrics, really, is what Link has in mind. Since they used to write songs together and this felt much the same. He’s been floundering all night and now that Rhett’s here, he knows he’ll at least get what he needs done. Even if it’s not all he wants, right now.

That same God seeks judgment on his every decision or flinch against His will, for any reason, to spite him.

For this reason.

He wants to smush Rhett’s face and kiss him. Deeply. He doesn’t.

Even if there were sometime in the past that he could get away with a platonic smooch, now he can’t. He simply could not prevent that from escalating.

So, he merely tightens his grip on the wrinkled scrap paper in his hand and scrunches his eyes.

“Why can’t it be you up there…” Link bemoans, loudly, in his frustration.

Rhett’s eyes widen, in horror, and Link slams his other hand at his mouth, rolling his eyes. “Not like - I mean - why can’t you go say my lines for me. You’re so much better at this kinda thing.”

“Let me read what you’ve got,” Rhett says.

After some review, Rhett sighs, not unkindly and sits down next to Link. “Let’s just talk through what you’re trying to say because, yeah, this reads like liturgy.”

“Ain’t is supposed to? It’s in a chapel!”

“What do you like about her?” Rhett asks, ignoring his nitpicking. “Christy?” Rhett stares at him, waiting, too upset for Link to chastise but clearly wanting to.

“She’s patient,” Link says, reminded by the similar. Rhett folds over the book to an open page and clicks the pen in his hand, writing that down. “A-And she’s kind. Like considerate, ‘specially with babies and little animals. Sh-She does this thing where she immediately drops to their eye-level to make sure they don’t feel unheard or seen. Probably ‘cause she’s always been so tall…”

Rhett’s still writing.

“Then when I’m sick, she forces me to rest. You know I hate that,” Link says, voice rising a little, at the memory. “But you know I need that. You won’t be the last to make me stop and smell the roses or take a break, once in a while.”

“Her hair, write, her hair - the way it looks in the sunshine. Like warm caramel with flecks of gold. She’s a vision, an angel. Especially when she’s wearing all white, like,” Link says, pausing to point to Rhett’s undershirt and pale grey sweats. “Makes blondes look ethereal-like, always has.”

“Oh, and her voice. Sometimes, the way her accent catches, well, you know she don’t like to sing like us, never has, but when she says certain things, asks a question the right way - it’s music. The way it harmonizes with my answer, reminds me of singing, reminds me of us.”

Rhett keeps writing, quiet, and focused.

After a short time, Link can’t stop and wants to crane over to see what he’s come up with. Rhett hands it over after crossing a final “t” somewhere on the page.

“Those’re good, Link, but I think you need to keep closer to what I wrote, leave out the stuff about me.”

“Stuff about you?” Link asks, having spoken in a stream-of-conscious style, Link forgets most of what he even said

Rhett looks away, shakes his head.

Distracted by the desire to read the rest, Link abandons the lingering questions he has about Rhett’s suggestion and response.

“These are great, man, thanks,” Links says, pushing a soft hand into Rhett’s side.

His eyes scan to the bottom where Rhett’s added a few lines about the journey, the marriage, all the ceremonial aspects of the day for him to close with, but then something more.

Something about him.

Rhett catches him catch it and looks further away. “I know Christy pretty well, too, y’know. Y’all are just alike, in that way. She might need some back-up vows, to have and hold.”

Link reads them.

“You know, just in case.”

Link looks up and tries to laugh.

He doesn’t laugh.

He goes back to reading them.

Rhett shifts uncomfortably, touches the back of his neck, and shuts his eyes.

“Rhett, these ’re…”

“I know, bo, you can forget ‘em,” Rhett excuses, still not meeting Link’s gaze. “You want me to… I can rewrite the others on a different - I can turn the page and write ‘em there so you can just…”

“Hey, hey,” Link interrupts him, mad at Rhett putting down his best friend, and eager to explain his actual thoughts. “Rhett, these are perfect. These are… I’m sad I can’t say anything as nice in return to you.”

Rhett finally looks up to acknowledge that and their gaze heats and lingers.

“Not that I…” Link stutters to clarify. “Y-You’d have to be a - if that’s something that was gonna - you know - if that was gonna work…”

His mind does it’s usual jump to a visual for the worst case scenario depicting the implication he stumbled across. Him out eight grand on the wedding. Not to mention a wife, a family, a future, a faith -

a friend -

Link gulps, pushing that back away, pushing them both forward, in his estimation.

It’s too much to bear to think about for another second. When he glances at Rhett, he can’t get a read on his face what he thinks about it, and that’s scary enough for him to want to abandon the concept altogether.

“Christy’s gonna love them.”

It’s enough, saying his fiancée's name, to ground him again. Enough to make it okay for him to grab Rhett’s palm and squeeze it in thanks, between them.

Rhett’s made his choice to give up on film school.

Link’s made his choice to give up on whatever schoolboy obsession he has with monopolizing all of Rhett’s days and nights. 

He’ll stick to the days or every other weekend, however they can still fit time together, is fine by him. This ceremony, tomorrow, feels as much about his graduation from friend to husband, and all that that entails.

They’re adults.

They both know there’s a lot of sacrifices to be made and this feels like the first time he’s really acknowledging how hard they’re going to be to make. He hopes they’ll still see each other.

He hopes their kids will get along.

He has a lot of hopes.

All of them involve Rhett.

There’s a lot he should write down for when Rhett finds his own bride to wed.

Link notices, suddenly, that Rhett is crying. The same part of him that's nearly broken the headwind of these conflicting emotions turns back to comfort him.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Link soothes, realizing he’s also still holding Rhett’s hand.

“‘M sorry,” Rhett intones, the words bubble up and out of him simultaneously, sounding like water draining in a filled sink. “And the night before your wedding, good Heavens.”

“Hey, I’ve been crying all week,” Link says, waving a hand at the stress that planning a wedding has kept put on him. “Nothing I haven’t seen in the mirror.”

Rhett laughs, rubbing a thumb over his own thigh in a way that brushes upwards against the place Link’s clasping his hand. Link nearly pulls his hand back, thinking Rhett’s trying to get him to sense his want for space, but when he meets his eye it’s clear he’d like nothing less.

“I think I’m just -” Rhett starts to say, trailing off. The light from the lamp on the far coffee table is the only thing on in the room. Link drops his gaze a few inches to try and see more of Rhett’s downturned eyes as he hems and haws. He squeezes their hands together, again, this time clasping it more firmly, still pressing Rhett’s large palm down from above. “I think I’m just a li’l jealous, is all.”

It’s the quietest admission he’s heard from Rhett since he told him he failed their chemistry mid-term in eleventh grade.

Link is also so lost at the innocence of the admission that he can only think of follow-up questions. “Of me?”

Rhett looks at him for a long, long minute and finally, when Link’s gaze remains confused for the whole length of the pause, he shakes his head, no.

Then he waits. 

He waits for Link to realize what he means.

But he’s still waiting when Link, oblivious, moves onward trying to comfort Rhett, instead of understanding him fully.

The tension in the room is palpable as Link talks, but only to Rhett, it seems. Only Rhett pictures air bags being deployed in a car safety video as metal hits cinder block. Only Rhett moves his hand, though it’s all it takes to dislodge them from each other completely.

“I know you’re gonna make an amazing husband some day.” Link is saying.

Rhett’s hand aches where cool air now surrounds it.

“I know your wife is gonna get to hear you say such wonderful things about her.”

Rhett wipes his hand of the misunderstanding on the cotton of his pants.

“I know she’s gonna say the same kind of things about you, when it’s your turn up there.”

Rhett mourns the idea that this would ever be requited.

“I know she’s gonna love you, just as much as I do, so she’ll have plenty to say.”

Rhett looks away, wiping the last of his tears from his eyes. 

 “I’ll make sure she has plenty of ideas where to start.”

Rhett pats Link’s leg, in camaraderie, and nods.

And that’s it. They shoot the shit, they make a plan to meet up at a donut place for the groomsmen’s breakfast to thank them for their help, before the ceremony, and they’ll talk things through if Link’s feeling jittery still. Then Rhett’s gone.

It’s not until the next day at eleven on the dot (everyone has an agenda to follow and every moment is accounted for) that Link understands Rhett’s pain.

His mother straightens his tie and flattens the edges of his suit. “You’ll wanna know I heard Christy looks like an angel in her dress, from the girls upstairs.”

“Those actual angels you been talkin’ to, Sue?” Rhett jokes, where he’s twisting his cummerbund around every so often, bored.

“Very funny, honey,” Sue ribs back. “From the cousins, Beth and Hailee Sue. Remember they’re friends with the hairstylist you got to do the curls for Christy’s hair, today? She was over last night getting Christy ready for bed with how to wash and dry it a special kind of way. They were there, too.”

Link starts to tune her out, since there’s a lot on his mind, but then she says more.

“She says the hairstylist was talking about how jealous she was of Christy, all night, getting to marry you,” Sue relays.

“Oh, mama, please,” Link dismisses. The compliments he’s been getting have felt faker than the toupee on his uncle Bruce. That girl has never even met him. “I’m the only person here people should be jealous of, who would be jealous of Christy,” he says, trailing off, muttering his reasoning as he did. “Marrying a trainwreck like me.”

Link looks up in the mirror where some of his friends continue to mingle in various states of undress. Rhett is already dressed, however, and staring straight at Link like he’s been caught with a hand in a cookie jar.

Link’s about to ask what’s wrong when he remembers his words. Then looks again over the planes of Rhett’s face.

Last night’s words slam back into his mind and Link’s mouth drops open.

The church organ belts out an opening flurry of notes before Canon in D begins playing loudly through the sound system built into the rafters above them. Link looks up to see one of the church staff at the door instructing them to join the bridal party to line-up.

Link’s mom dashes off to where she’s paired with her nephew, Link’s favorite cousin, to be escorted down the aisle.

Rhett sees Link’s face rushing through a wash of emotions from a distance, he nods to the staffer in silent understanding that he’ll handle it, and then they’re alone.

He walks up to Link and takes his hand. He squeezes it.

“Hey, you gotta go. We gotta go. It’s showtime,” Rhett insists.

Link looks around like a bomb went off, since in some ways it did, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Rhett seems to pick up on that. He squeezes Link’s hand again.

“I’ll get over it, Link, it’s okay,” Rhett whispers, on the verge of desperation.

That confirmation is enough to fully shatter Link.

Only for a moment. 

The music continues and Rhett keeps his hand hold.

They are adults. They are in love. They have to marry. 

None of these things can be helped.

“I’m gonna be so jealous of Her, too,” Link whispers back. He squeezes Rhett’s hand one last time, as they part.

They leave.

They walk straight.

They part again.

Until later.

They move houses and cities and states.

They move mountains, inside and out.

They move together.

Much later.

They join again.

They run crooked.

They return.

To one another.

Link has spent years worrying a ring that means too much to too few people.

In the beginning, when he cries himself to sleep at what he thinks has been the mistake of a lifetime, it’s His talisman. It reminds him of the expectations upon this life he’s made.

As the years pass, however, the adherence to the bogeymen of their childhood’s rules wears thin. It starts to strictly represent love and patience.

Sacrifice.

It begins to feel like a burden. A representation of what’s been lost, not what’s been found.

He contemplates taking it off, but believes that to be a betrayal of all that it stands for to the people he stands for. 

Then, one day, (surely mid-spin) he hears Rhett tell a story about wanting to change his ring.

He watches the silver twirl as Rhett explains.

He believes he was rushed into a certain type of marriage and a certain type of life by a certain type of person.

It’s a life that he’s grown to love but the ring represents a union forced by custom and not one that’s grown through devotion. 

His ring reminds him of that too often to be good for him.

Link twists his again at the admission.

So, Rhett’s thinking about replacing the ring.

Link returns home that night in a stupor. He’s sure he said one too many things to Rhett to emphasize how wild it felt to hear him talk about changing rings.

Any memories of that day, their wedding, bring up a rush of emotions that he’s never been good at sorting through.

Today’s admission makes him feel the same spur to make use of idle, betrothed hands he feels when he cleans the fridge.

He wants to clean the slate.

He finds an old DVD copy of their wedding ceremony that he paid to have converted from miniDV some years ago. Now he struggles to find a place to watch that DVD. How quickly time has flown by.

Eventually, he ends up in his son’s room - no one’s home for the remainder of the night but he and Christy - now, he’s sitting on a bean bag, squinting at the game console’s controller trying to get the joysticks to move to “play” on screen.

The ceremony bursts to life and, like it was yesterday, Link’s nerves fizzle awake.

About halfway through the video, Christy finds him like that and sits down next to him in a thwump absorbed mostly by the stuffing of the chair.

They watch themselves smile happily at each other and Christy takes his hand.

“Should I be happy or scared to find you alone watching this on a Saturday night?” she asks, wryly, squeezing his palm.

Link doesn’t know what to say. He’s caught up in Rhett’s bygone script being spoken on screen. Words about Christy and about Link that were not their own, declared loudly in front of the congregation.

“I don’t know,” Link admits, shrugging. He doesn’t. He squeezes her hand back.

“You wanna tell me what’s eating you?”

Link hesitates, but relents. He wants that clean slate, after all. “Rhett’s getting his wedding ring replaced.”

“Replaced?” Christy asks, balking.

“Replaced, yeah,” Link responds, sure he didn’t misspeak.

“With what?” she asks.

“Oh, some new one. Fancy thing, very cool, made of trees or something. Honestly he wears the other one, the slick black one more than his wedding band half the time. He says it feels like the old one? It’s the kind of ring you get in a bauble at a vending machine crank. So, he wants a new one.”

“Jeesh,” Christy says, making a face at the screen. The camera catches Rhett stealing glances at the couple, then at the crowd, beaming at all with unbridled pride.

“Wouldn’t you be mad if I did that?” Link inquires, still baffled at the idea.

“Well, no, but don’t you love your ring? Heirloom and all that,” she says.

Link cringes. “Yeah, yeah. Honestly, I do.”

“So?”

“So, I still kind of want to and I’m not sure what that means.”

They watch the screen together.

“Do you wanna stay married?” she asks, in a small voice.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

There’s a long pause.

“To me?” she asks, her voice even smaller.

“Yes,” he breathes in.

She squeezes his hand, her confidence built back up. She begs him to join her.

“And him?” Christy whispers.

They both look the screen, the lens centered on the two of them, but their gaze is mutually torn to where Rhett stands wiping a tear from his eye at Christy reciting the last of the vows that he wrote her. Wrote him. Wrote them both.

She squeezes his hand again.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

She leans her head on his shoulder.

“You should probably get another ring, then,” she jests. “We shouldn’t have to share everything.”

The slate is clean.

There’s a lot he wants to say to Rhett about it, but just as before, he’s relied on Rhett to give him the right words to say. So, instead of words, he starts wearing Rhett’s ring.

Then, a new one, when he realizes he can match him separate from the other, all told. Have something of Rhett’s, all to himself.

In his unspoken push towards something more, their hands now match along with their steps, as they walk forward.

On the last week in July, they get ice cream at the fifth place that month to mistake them for husbands, but the first one he hears Link crow an affirmative in response.

Rhett waits for him while he triple-tips the cashier (for the guess) and pays for their cones.

“Bad joke,” Rhett says, softly, but firm.

“Who’s kidding?” Link parries back, a smirk dancing it’s way across his lips.

Rhett watches him with a wistful look of disbelief.

“Link, we’re married,” Rhett warns him.

Link shrugs. “I know. I’m just waiting for you to figure that out and minding my ice cream here, all right?”

He’s got a mouthful of vanilla bean and extra cookie crumble, the next second, so his vow ends there.

Later, at home, Rhett startles Jessie awake when he fully realizes Link’s words.

He shakes her awake. He shakes them both awake.

“I’m in love with Link,” he says, like it’s a confession.

She kisses him because so is she. So are most people.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

Rhett repeats himself.

So does she.

They stare at each other under the cover of silk and moonlight.

“We’re married,” Rhett whispers, touching his hand to hers. Their rings clink, new and shiny.

“Yeah, and so are we,” she whispers back.

They fall asleep smiling.

The next day, Rhett sneaks up behind Link while he’s working and causes him to spill his cup of coffee. He gets the stink eye for only a minute because it’s the same length of time he can stand Link’s grumpy mug before he has to swoop down and kiss him on the lips.

“You figured it out,” Link says, grinning.

“I did,” Rhett chirps as he kisses Link more.

They take a car to their house. It’s filled with their love and the history of it; before, during, and after.

“What’s this?” Link asks, dazed in their post-sex glow, naked and alive.

He spots an old chord book of theirs from last time they wrote music.

“Oh,” Rhett says, bashful. “I came looking for you here this morning, hoping you slept over again, but, uh,” Rhett stalls, looks away and tries to take the songbook from Link’s hand. Link pulls it far enough he can’t reach. “You were already at the job.”

“And?” Link asks, using his spry, sinewy body as an advantage to slink away from the bed out of Rhett’s grip. He still has the book in hand.

“Those are your vows,” Rhett explains.

Link looks down and squints, confused. These aren’t the vows that Christy read at their wedding. He’s seen that video only a few months back and is sure of it.

“Our vows,” Rhett whispers, explaining further, at Link’s puzzled look.

“It’s a love song,” Link notes, marveling at the gesture. What it means to a young version of himself that once felt like they had surely cut out and mourned the possibility of this - all of this - ever happening. To have that thought coexist with the image of a nude, hulking tree trunk of a husband laid before him smiling up adoringly felt panoptic.

“So are you.”

Link begins to cry.

“Play it for me.”

Rhett wipes his cheek.

“Get my guitar.”

They sing twice more that night, always in harmony (not always in lyric), then spend the rest of their lives together doing much the same.

[durotoswrites]

For the writing meme thingy: 🍄how do you get yourself in the mood to write? 🍑 do you/would you write smut? 📒 any fics planned?

🍄 How do you get yourself in the mood to write?

Getting in the mood to write and actually wanting to sit down and start writing are two very different things, but they're connected, so I'll explain both.

To set into “creative mode” it helps me to do these things:

Listen to music that makes me think of a character/situation in my story/stories. I've got playlists separated by character and pairing. Sometimes I also just work on curating those playlists for fun and get my brain going.

Bounce overall ideas off of my friends and husband/editor (but he's my best friend, too 💗)

Reread old chapters or recent ones and future snippets based on what I want to do.

Once I actually want to put words down, I get a little more strict with myself. I get distracted verrrry easily sometimes and I have to fight the urge to open a million more tabs when researching a small detail.

I move to instrumental music (I have playlists for different moods like “emotional”, “soft”, “sad”, etc. I usually listen to “soft” as a general soothing background sound, as I can get pretty dang emotional when I write, especially with the stuff I've been churning out lately.

So, yeah, I need tissues within reach if I get upset. (Wow, I'm not making this sound fun at all, lmao)

After sound has been established, I like to eat a snack (something with protein) because I can be under for hours, lol. Eat it and finish it. Otherwise, I get distracted.

I also like to have drinks available. I always have a bottle of water, but I also like having a hot cup of tea. I think it's the time of year for me to switch to cold barley tea.

I write while seated on a recliner with my feet up. I have my laptop on a lap desk and it's a pretty cozy setup.

I basically try to remove any excuse I have to get up once I start writing, because I am the worst procrastinator I know.

🍑Do you/would you write smut?

Heheh... heck yeah, I do. Waaaaay more than most people realize. Stuff I've actually posted? It's pretty limited. I posted a couple pieces (Let Me Love You and You're Like the Sunshine) a few years ago, but I've been practicing ever since. One of my planned stories literally has what I refer to as a “smut dump” in the draft where I've been experimenting with writing different moods. I like the intimate scenes to play a role in the overall plot or have it be a bonding experience.

Despite that, I do have a shameless Gray x Mary story I should just get out there that has zero plot, just two cuties in love. In my mind it's so naughty and kinky and I get flustered thinking about it (Mary is hot, okay?), but it's probably hella vanilla, lmao. I really am grateful that people have been really supportive about my writing smut despite what I usually write, and they've been so encouraging, too! I honestly feel like the smut I've posted is really stilted because I was so self-conscious about it. I don't feel like they are terrible for first attempts, but I have definitely grown more comfortable writing it.

Will The Shy Newcomer become explicit? I kinda really want it to, but I might separate the chapters for those who don't care for that content. Overall, I'd like to write more and post more, and I want to write more than just male x female smut as well. I have some of those in my planned pieces (more about them later).

📒 Any Fics Planned?

Firstly, I'm super tickled more than one person was interested in this. I copied the answer I wrote earlier.

Short answer: Yes. I also plan to bring more of my stories over from ffn to Ao3.

Long answer under the cut, heheh. I rambled quite a bit.

Ask me about my writing processes and stories!

I have so many WIPs that haven’t been touched in years that I’d like to finish, so new planned fics aren’t posted yet. Some of them have more adult themes than most of the stuff I’ve been writing, so I get flustered sharing them. I’ve been at a crossroads, as I feel that you can’t have growth without changing things up. On the other hand, I feel like a lot of my readers associate my works with a specific “wholesome” feel-good mood. It’s kinda nice to be known for something, although that might just be my ego talking, thinking that people recognize my work as a “type”.

Regardless, in the end, I feel growth is necessary.

I don’t want to leave a lot of unfinished WIPs waiting because they stress me out and I have too many of them already, so I’d like to have a bulk of my new stories with a good chunk written before I decide to post them.

Among those include:

A longfic featuring Pete’s farm in Forget-Me-Not Valley (A blend of HMDS with the FoMT plugin and AWL). It takes place in the same universe as The Shy Newcomer (Claire in Mineral Town) and there are a few overlapping moments, although Pete’s story starts first. Pete’s personality is verrry different from Claire’s, and his story was kind of supposed to be the yang to TSN’s yin. Pete’s best friends in his story are Ruby (not sure if I’m adding Tim yet), Nami, and Rock. Readers will be treated to a poorly-socialized pre-Mineral Town Cliff (if you think he was bad at the beginning of TSN, well… heh… he’s a wreck here).

Another planned unpublished story is a crossover of Harvest Moon and the movie “In This Corner of the World”, based on a manga of the same name by Fumiyo Kouno. It was written as a gift for a friend. I have the entire outline figured out and have slowly been filling it in. My friend asked for an AU where Claire and Cliff have an arranged marriage and live with his family in Akiyama, the hometown I had created for Cliff in The Shy Newcomer. I took the opportunity to expand the characters in his family. I have it written during the same time period and society as “In This Corner of the World”, but had decided to write a spreading disease as an allegory for war, but then COVID happened and some parts of it just got really hard to write. There are also a lot of sexually explicit content as Claire slowly grows and learns from her spouse that it’s okay to express what she wants despite sex being a taboo issue. If there’s enough interest in the story, I’ll post it, but I worry it’s a little too niche for there to be many people into it.

Pastor Carter and Doctor Trent are one of my favorite rare pair ships. I’ve had a partial draft for a story about them for a few years now, especially focusing on Trent growing up and acknowledging that he has an unhealthy addiction for things that he knows he can’t have. There are some more adult/sexual themes in this piece, too, including the main character lusting after a married woman (who also happens to be his patient) and some lemons. (Does anyone call it that anymore or is it just referred to as “smut” nowadays? Haha) I always feel so bad for neglecting the folks at the clinic in-game and wanted to write a piece that focused more on them, Trent specifically. It’s a multi-chap fic, but I don’t think I’m going to let it get as long as some of my other pieces.

I also really want to write a short romantic oneshot for every marriage candidate in Mineral Town, around 1,000 words each. So far, I have one for Cliff and one for Gray. I want to write Claire with everyone, because I think it would be fun to explore all the different personalities.

I have more installments planned for A Single Day, including a day in the life of the following characters, all with drafts in varying degrees of progress:

Anna

Doug

Nora (yes, I’m writing from the point of view of the cat living at the inn)

More to come – I think Lillia and Thomas would be especially interesting to explore

I do still have that Legend of Zelda Majora’s Mask piece I’ve been pondering where Link befriends the soul of the deku scrub child while possessed by the mask. I don’t have much written about it, but I really love the world of Majora’s Mask. Such a fun game.

I also think about the lead carpenter’s son in Ocarina of Time and that weird side quest involving the blue chicken and the son being lost to the forest. Then that unique-looking kokiri girl explaining that all who get taken in the lost woods become stalfos. Like, did the guy die? Was he sick? Did he want to die? There’s just so much going on there that would be fun to explore.

I also have played OMORI recently and have like… A LOT of feelings about it. I don’t know what I’d write, but I’m still damn impressed at how well the characters are developed in such a short game.

Other games I’ve had vague ideas about writing for include the following:

The Flame in the Flood: I’m thinking a survivalist/action story fleshing out Scout’s backstory a bit more and her thoughts as she’s traveling. I feel like she’s a very lonely person, but isn’t given the chance to really dwell on it.

Night In the Woods: I’d love to write more about Mae’s dreams and what they mean to her. She doesn’t really talk to anyone about them openly, so it’s really hard to tell her feelings about them in some regards. We know that she’s distressed about them, but I’d like to dive a little deeper. Do the nightmares end after the games does? What about Bea’s new nightmares?

Hades (Supergiant Games): I think it would be fun to write more about the events that take place before the game starts, like Zagreus’s duties in the house of Hades, and expand on the strained relationship with his father.

[hookedonapirate]

Book Update

If anyone is wondering when Hard To Handle will be coming out, I have some news! So, for those who don't know, Hard To Handle is an original A Helping Hand rewrite featuring Harper and Owen (Killian and Emma) and will be part 2 of the series. And if you haven't guessed yet, part 1 features Audrey and Brady (Elsa and Liam from A Helping Hand) with a Harper and Brady friendship. For those interested in their story, I have a little treat for you below. However, this Sneak peek doesn't show Audrey and Brady meeting yet because I haven't gotten that far.

This is sort of an enemies to lovers story (I say sort of because their "enemy" status in the beginning is too complicated to slap a label on it) that starts off with Harper and Audrey butting heads with their new neighbor, Brady, and him and Audrey exchanging love hate letters. 😉 Then Brady and Audrey form an alliance and break up Harper and Bryce. I promise it's not evil like it sounds because Brady discovers Bryce is cheating on Harper. Remember, Bryce is the Neal of AHH.

This book is a bit darker than book 2 because of the toxic nature of Harper's relationship with Bryce, and because Audrey often pays the price for his shenanigans, but there's still humor and fun in this one.

Anyway, here are the first few chapters. I may post more if anyone's interested ❤️

Chapter One

Brady

There are strange sounds coming from the unit next door.

Laughter maybe?

Yes, definitely laughter.

More like Cackling. From one—make that two—females.

Two loud, annoying females.

Just great.

I take pride in being a fairly simple man who doesn’t need much to be happy. A few things like fishing, enjoying an ice-cold beer and having a few moments of quiet time usually does the trick. Even the sound the can makes whenever I crack open the pull tab of Coors Light is music to my ears. I finally have time to relax after sweating my ass off from all the unpacking I did. I just moved in today and couldn’t stand the idea of tripping over boxes or searching through them every time I needed to use something. I was unable to stop unpacking until every single item in those boxes had a home.

Now I’m able to sit back in my patio chair, prop my feet up on the plastic stool and breathe in the pleasantly cool evening air, enjoy a refreshing, ice-cold beer and some quiet time.

Or at least I was able to until my air of tranquil serenity was so rudely disturbed by my cackling neighbors.

They could at least close their balcony doors, so the entire building doesn’t have to hear them.

I’m already in a foul mood, and the two laughing hyenas aren’t helping. If anything, my mood is worse than it was when I was packing.

They, however, sound like they’re having a grand old time. Doing what exactly, I’m not sure, but it sounds like one of them needed a break from studying and the other one is encouraging her to get drunk and let loose. Which means they’re college students.

Just fucking perfect.

This is exactly why I moved off campus, even though it meant paying rent and enduring a much longer commute to work.

It’s just my luck to get stuck living next to two loud teenagers or early twenty-something-year-olds. I’m around college students all the time, considering I’m an instructor; I don't need to live next to them, too. I learned that very quickly.

Young adults, my ass. More like impudent children.

I feel like the property management should’ve included that minor detail in the apartment listing. Or that not everyone is required to follow their uniform policies.

A peaceful, friendly community? Ha!

The management will definitely be hearing from me about their false advertising.

“Dude, I’m sorry to tell you this, Harp, but your boyfriend’s a fucking loser! Even Elisa said so!”

“He’s just misunderstood!”

“Misunderstood?! Bryce is such a creep!”

“Is not!”

I take a swig of my beer through gritted teeth. I really wish I had a TV right now.

It won’t be delivered until tomorrow, though. Which is very unfortunate and inconvenient at the moment because I need a distraction from reality. Listening to their conversation makes me furious and sad at the same time because it reminds me of me and my brother arguing about his girlfriend. I kept trying to tell Owen she was no good for him, but he wouldn’t listen. I bet this Bryce guy isn’t married, though.

Or maybe he is; I really don’t know.

I need something to take my mind off the overwhelming urge I feel to hop on a plane, fly to Chicago and kick my brother’s ass for being the fucking moron he is. And let me tell you, the urge is very strong right now. Earlier today, Owen told me the woman he’s been seeing is married. They’ve been dating for six months, during which she was lying to him the entire time. I already didn’t like her very much to begin with because she was a controlling bitch—I’m the only one who’s allowed to be a controlling bitch to my brother—and because ever since he started seeing her, I haven't been able to hang out with him very much. Whenever we made plans, he canceled them because Naomi wanted to spend time with him instead. And he was my best friend. Now he tells me she’s married and that he’s still staying with her.

What the actual fuck?

He’s so brainwashed by her, I couldn’t talk a lick sense into that goddamn head of his. Now he wants me to be okay with them staying together while she’s still with her husband?

Fuck that shit.

“Okay listen, if you’re going to talk shit about my boyfriend, we’re going to need more wine.”

“Agreed.”

It becomes silent next door for a few minutes, which makes me sigh in relief. Soon I hear, “Son of a fucking bitch!”

There’s a litany of curses and then, “We need a new corkscrew!”

“But we’re too drunk to drive anywhere!”

Damn, if only I had a corkscrew so they could drink more wine, get drunker and become even louder and more annoying than they already are.

That’s actually not a bad idea, though. If they’re anything like my ex-girlfriend, the quicker they get drunk, the quicker they’ll be ready to sleep. The quicker I’ll finally have my peace and quiet.

I contemplate driving down to the corner store, but what would I even say if I showed up at their door with a corkscrew they didn’t ask for? Oh, hi, I was eavesdropping on your conversation and took it upon myself to go to the store and buy you this corkscrew so you could both drink yourselves into an alcohol-induced coma and I could finally have some peace and quiet?

Nope, I definitely can’t say that.

Chapter Two

Audrey

“Son of a fucking bitch!”

When I rush into the kitchen to see why my roommate’s cussing up a storm, I’m expecting the counter and floor to be covered in wine and shattered glass, even though I didn’t hear any glass break, but Harper’s just holding the corkscrew and staring at the top of the bottle.

“What’s wrong?”

“We need a new corkscrew!” Harper grabs the bottle of wine and points the top of it at me. The cork is still jammed into the neck of the bottle, and the worm of the corkscrew is stuck inside it.

Which is very unfortunate.

She’s been studying her ass off, except for the occasional interruptions from her asshat of a boyfriend, Bryce. She had a really tough time getting him to finally leave so she could study, and she had to literally push him out the door. So I thought Harper could use a break and I could feel saner again by indulging in some wine. But one bottle of wine quickly turned into two. Or rather, it would’ve if not for the end of the corkscrew inside the cork.

Fuck.

“But we can’t drive anywhere,” I point out, considering how tipsy we both are, even though we only went through one bottle between us. But we’re both lightweights.

“Hold on,” she says, picking up her phone from the counter.

I cock my brow. “You do realize Amazon Prime takes two days to ship, right?”

“Yeah, I know, Aud. I’m not that drunk.” After looking at something on her phone for a minute, she leaves the kitchen, returns with one of her tennis shoes and sets the phone down to pick up the wine bottle. She places the bottom of the bottle inside the heel of the shoe, raises her hands above her head and goes to one of the walls in a striking pose.

I rush over and put my hand on her arm to stop her. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“This will push the cork out.”

“But won’t the wine spill all over?”

“Not if I can only push the cork part of the way out and then pull it off the rest of the way.” She hits the shoe against the wall a few times, but the cork doesn’t budge.

“Why don’t we see if any of the neighbors have a corkscrew,” I suggest. “This method doesn’t seem to be working.”

She sighs and drops her arms. “Who do you think would have one?”

“What about Mandy? She’s a wine drinker.”

Harper shakes her head. “She doesn’t get home from the office until late on Mondays. And there’s no way I’m trying mister grumpy pants across the hall. It always seems like he’ll snap at any moment. Plus, once his dog starts yapping, she never shuts up.”

“What about the new guy who just moved in next door?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if he’s an ax murderer?”

“I saw him earlier when he was moving in. He seems harmless enough, and is kind of cute, actually.”

“Yeah, well so was Ted Bundy. And I’d like to stay alive with my head intact, thank you very much.” I haven’t seen the new neighbor yet, but I don’t think going over to a stranger's place while we’re both a little tipsy is the best idea, for several reasons.

She flicks her hand. “Well, you don’t have to go. I will.” She grabs her keys, removes her pepper spray from the attached chain and throws her keys back on the counter before heading toward the door.

“Harp, wait…”

Ignoring my pleas as I follow behind her, she slips into her Nike slides. “I’ll be fine. I got my handy dandy pepper spray,” she says, holding it up.

Before I can talk some sense into her, she’s already dashing out the door and calling out over her shoulder, “If I’m not back in five minutes, call 911!”

I sigh and lean against the door, pressing my ear against it so I can listen for Harper’s screams or any signs of a struggle.

Chapter Three

Brady

When I head inside from the balcony, there’s a knock on the front door. I scratch my head and stride over to answer it, wondering who it could be. I just moved into this apartment today, so I literally don’t know any of my neighbors yet.

I open the door to a skinny blonde with green eyes, long, shimmering hair and soft pink lips. She’s easy on the eyes, but I have a feeling she’s one of the laughing hyenas next door. She’s not as young as I thought she’d be, though. She looks to be around my brother’s age. When I give her a once-over, I notice the pepper spray she’s trying to hide in her fist.

I wince at the sight of it. She doesn’t even have the safety lock on.

I offer a tight-lipped smile. “Hello.”

“HiI’myournextdoorneighbor,” she mumbles, her words slurred together. She’s a little tipsy and has to lean against the doorframe so she doesn’t fall over.

“How can I help you, next-door neighbor?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the pepper spray. The sight of it brings back too many painful memories. Memories I’d rather keep locked away.

“I was wondering if you had a corkscrew my roommate and I could borrow?”

On the balcony, I wanted to strangle the two neighbors who were interrupting my quiet time, but now I feel very protective. She’s obviously drunk, yet stumbling over to a neighbor she doesn’t even know. I mean, I like to consider myself an overall decent human being, or as I’ve been called before, “one of the good guys,” but this woman doesn’t know that. She knows nothing about me, yet she’s over here asking to borrow a corkscrew. And yes, she’s carrying a weapon, but I doubt she knows how to use it properly, and with how tipsy she is, I doubt she’d even be fast enough to use it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t.”

Her smile fades, but she looks determined, so I’m hoping she doesn’t go knocking on all her neighbors' doors asking for a corkscrew.

“I could buy you one,” I offer, trying to sound as polite as possible. Which is difficult when I’m irritated.

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Really? You’d do that?”

I cross my arms and give her a stern look. “On one condition.”

She nods excitedly. “Of course, anything.”

I’m so glad I’m a nice guy because this woman seems far too trusting, and I’m afraid of what would’ve happened if I were anything less than a decent human being. “I’ll go and get you a corkscrew if you return to your apartment and keep the noise down for the rest of the night. And maybe close your balcony doors so the entire building can’t overhear your childish conversation.”

I’m thinking this is a very reasonable request. I’m willing to leave the comfort of my apartment to get in my car and go to the corner store to get some women I don’t know a corkscrew, and all they have to do is put a cap on the noise.

But the scowl on her face tells me she doesn’t agree. “First of all,” she raises her index finger, “ruu-uuuuuuude!” She raises another finger. “Secondly, my roommate and I aren’t children. We’re having a stressful week and were finally able to relax and drink some wine when the corkscrew broke. But that’s okay, we’ll figure out how to get the cork off ourselves!” She turns on her heels and starts to head toward her apartment, but spins around again and gets in my space, jabbing a finger at my chest. “And thirdly, we weren’t being that loud!”

I clench my jaw as she storms away and slams the door shut after disappearing inside her apartment. I throw my own door shut, huffing in frustration.

Why couldn’t my neighbors all be sweet old ladies?

So much for having a relaxing evening!

I head back to my balcony when there’s another knock on the door.

“Son of bitch,” I curse under my breath as I march over to the door and yank it open. “What, now?” I ask angrily when I see her standing at my door again.

“I need to borrow a dress shoe.”

I furrow my brows, growing more agitated. “A what?”

She sighs as though I’m the one inconveniencing her. “A dress shoe,” she says impatiently. “Surely you’ve been to a wedding or funeral. You must have one.”

“I do, but why do you—” Before I get the chance to answer, she shoves past me and heads toward my bedroom.

I follow her in there and cross my arms over my chest in the doorway as I watch her go to my closet. “What in the ever-loving hell are you doing?”

“I told you, I need to borrow a dress shoe.”

Seriously?!

The audacity of this woman waltzing into my apartment and taking one of my shoes! “That’s funny because I never said you could borrow one.”

“Wow, your closet is super organized,” she comments as she looks around, easily finding one of my brown dress shoes and grabbing it from the shoe rack.

I’m still standing in the bedroom doorway when she tries to get through. I reach for my shoe, but she steps back and aims her pepper spray at me. I instinctively duck out of the line of fire and lunge forward, grabbing the pepper spray from her hand and twisting the safety lock.

“Wait, please don’t kill me! My roommate’s calling 911 if I’m not back in two minutes!” she cries, shielding herself with her hands.

I sigh in exasperation and extend the pepper spray to her. “I’m not trying to murder you, I was trying to get my shoe back.”

She slowly drops her arms and narrows her eyes as she snatches the spray from my hand. “Then why did you take away my weapon?”

I scoff. “It was a reflex so I didn’t get sprayed in the face since I wasn’t actually attacking you. Do you know how many times I’ve been pepper-sprayed in the face?”

“Why, because you’re a rapist?!” she accuses, stepping away from me and aiming her pepper spray at me again, even though the safety is still on. She probably doesn’t even know that, though.

I sigh in exasperation and raise my hands in surrender. “No, because I was in the Marines. Getting pepper-sprayed was part of my training. It taught me how to use my weapons and equipment.”

She lowers the spray, guilt etched in her features. “Oh, sorry. My roommate said you might be another Ted Bundy, and I don’t want to be raped and murdered.”

“Yeah, because breaking into your neighbor’s apartment and stealing their shoe is a good way to prevent that from happening,” I say, my words laden with sarcasm.

“Well, no, but that’s what the pepper spray was for.”

“It won’t do you any good if you don’t use it properly. You need to have a firm grip and use your thumb to activate it so it can’t be taken out of your hand like I just took it out of yours.”

“Thanks for the tip.” She raises the pepper spray at me again and presses the button to activate it. But it’s still disarmed. Once she realizes her mistake, her eyes widen.

I cock my head to the side and plant my hands on my hips. “Really?”

She offers an apologetic smile, then scurries toward me, ducks under my arm and squeezes past me, darting for the front door. “I’ll bring it right back, I promise!”

I let her go and exhale another deep sigh. What could she possibly need my shoe for anyway? To squash a spider or something? Can’t she use her own Goddamn shoe for that?

Right, she probably doesn’t want to get her precious shoe all gross, so she’s using mine instead. Which means my shoe will be returned with spider guts on the bottom.

Just great.

I go to the balcony and curtly grab my beer so I can head inside and not have to hear every goddamn word of their conversation again.

Pound, pound, pound.

What the hell?

It sounds like they’re banging something against the wall.

My shoe, perhaps?

Pound, pound, pound.

Then I hear a loud pop!

“Yessssss!”

They got the cork out.

“Holy shit, you made a mess!”

“Sorry, but at least we can keep drinking!”

“Woohoo!”

I head inside and close the sliding doors, hoping to go to bed and get some rest. But then there’s another knock on the front door.

“Fucking hell,” I groan as I go over to answer it. It’s probably the blonde neighbor with my shoe, but I’m not sure I want it back.

Sure enough, it’s her.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it.” She hands over my shoe with a small smile and heads back to her apartment.

“You didn’t borrow it, you stole it!” I call after her. But she completely ignores me.

“And sorry I tried to spray you...twice!” Before I can respond, she’s already inside her unit.

I bring the shoe to my nose to get a closer whiff of it. I noticed the smell as soon as she handed it to me. “Hey, why does my shoe smell like wine?!”

But I’m talking to the door at this point.

I shake my head and go back inside, trying to decide if I should try to get the smell out or just toss the pair into the trash. For now, I set it aside and go to the bathroom to get ready for bed, hoping my neighbors will down the bottle, get tired and pass out so I can have a quiet evening.

No such luck.

They turn on the music, and I can hear the pounding bass through the wall and also, “Yeeeeesssss, this is my jam!”

The walls are actually shaking.

Why do the other neighbors put up with this! It’s absurd, really.

They should be evicted.

I contemplate calling the police to make a complaint, but this is New York City; the police have better things to do than respond to non-emergency noise complaints. So I return to my bedroom, strip down to my boxers and toss my clothes into the hamper before slipping into bed. I can still hear the noises coming from the unit next door, but thankfully, I’m a patient man. I’m sure they’ll get tired soon and go to bed. Or at least I hope so.

But an hour passes, and the music still doesn’t cease. I groan and roll over on my stomach, pulling the pillow over my head, wishing I had noise-canceling headphones right now. I’m normally against the idea of something that cancels all sounds, because it also cancels sounds that alert danger. Like if a burglar broke into the apartment or there’s an explosion or gunshot. But right now, I’d do anything to get a good night’s sleep. Between arguing with my brother over the phone into the wee hours of the night yesterday and spending all day moving into my new place and unpacking, I’m completely exhausted. Not to mention I always start my day at five in the morning. My classes don’t start until eight a.m., but I like to get an early start to my day. I got up that early when I was in the Marines, and some habits just never die.

I’m about to get up and go down the hall to ask them to turn down the noise, but I’ve already asked her once and she got offended, so I doubt it will do any good.

Chapter Four

Audrey

I’m immediately regretting the two bottles of Barefoot Harper and imbibed last night. My head is pounding, I’m dehydrated, and I have to be at work in an hour. I take some aspirin, drink a full glass of water before jumping into the shower.

When I leave my bedroom, dressed and ready to go, Harper is shuffling out of her room.

“Morning,” she says groggily, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“Morning, Harp.” I head to the kitchen to make her some coffee. I’m not a coffee drinker myself, I prefer tea, but I know Harper can’t function in the morning without a fresh cup of hot Folgers.

“Why did we drink on a weeknight again?” she groans, taking a seat at the table.

“That’s an excellent question.” I pour water into the pot and place it in the coffeemaker, turning it on.

Harper buries her face in the cradle of her arms on the table as I grab some aspirin and a tall glass, filling it with water. She doesn’t have to work today, but she does have classes. She’s already a registered nurse like me, but she’s going for her master’s degree to open up more job opportunities. And also because she’s an overachiever, when it comes to her career at least. I just wish she were an overachiever when it came to other aspects of her life, like the kind of men she dates. Or maybe Harper was purposefully aiming for Class-A levels of douchebaggery when she started dating Bryce. If that’s the case, then she definitely went above and beyond expectations. And while she is my best friend and roommate, there’s only so much sense I can talk into her. And I'm not willing to let some lowlife scumbag get in between our friendship.

“Here, these will help.”

Harper lifts her head and takes the aspirin and glass. When she pops the pills in her mouth, swallowing them down with a big gulp of water, she already appears to be more human again.

I grab my keys and strap my purse over my shoulder, heading toward the front door.

“Speaking of drinking, are you going to be here Friday night?”

I snort-laugh and turn to look at her, placing my free hand on my hip, knowing exactly where this is going. She’s still recovering from her hangover and already has booze on the brain. “That depends. Is Bryce going to be here?”

When she takes a slow sip of her water, I know what her answer is before she says it out loud. “Well, considering he’s the one who invited a few people over, yes, he’ll be here.”

“Then no, I definitely won’t.” I head for the door, trying to leave again.

“That’s a shame because Bryce has a good-looking friend who thinks you’re gorgeous.”

I spin around, cocking a brow. “Which friend?”

“Treyton. You haven’t met him before, but he saw your pics on Instagram.”

I walk to the table, placing my hands on top of the chair, my key ring dangling from my finger. “How did he find my Instagram account if we’ve never met?”

“Bryce showed it to him.”

What the fuck?

I furrow my brows in confusion. “Okay, why is Bryce showing his friends my Instagram account?”

She smirks. “Because Treyton was asking him if I had any cute, single friends.”

I sigh, not liking the idea of Bryce trying to set his friends up with me. I’ve met some of his guy friends, and neither is one I’d kiss if he were the last man on earth. “Sorry, not interested.”

I remove my hand from the chair and try to leave again.

“Oh, come on, Aud. Give the guy a chance. I mean, I don’t know him that well, but he’s fucking hot.” She picks up her phone from the table and pulls up something before handing it to me across the table. “See for yourself.”

I reluctantly take the device, a heavy sigh leaving my lips. I highly doubt his looks will sway me. Even if is hot, he’s still Bryce’s—

Holy crap.

He’s got those smokey grey eyes, a chiseled jaw and a little smirk on his beautiful face that makes me melt.

Well, fuck.

“So, what do you think?” Harper asks curiously, trying to stifle a smirk as she perches her chin on the back of her joined hands, her elbows resting on the table.

I try not to show how attracted I am to a freaking photo of a guy I’ve never met before, but damn, those eyes are spellbinding, and I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. “Okay, he’s a little cute.”

“A little? Honey, you and I have similar tastes in men, so I know you don’t think he’s just cute.”

“Yeah, that’s true. We usually do, which is why I have no idea how Bryce got your attention. He must have a big dick or something.” I narrow my eyes. “Does he have a big dick? Because that would explain a lot.”

Harper bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, Aud, you know it’s not all about the size! And no, he doesn’t, he’s average, but as much as you hate him, you can’t deny he’s good-looking.”

“Yes, maybe on the outside he’s cute but personality-wise he’s ugly as fuck.”

She sighs in defeat as I hand over her phone. This is just an argument neither of us will ever be able to agree on. Well, until she finally decides to take off those damn rose-colored glasses and sees Bryce as he truly is. But I know it would make Harper happy if I agreed to stay for the party. I know that sometimes she feels out of place considering most of Bryce’s friends are college kids. Normally, she’s the oldest one there, but you could never tell, because she has a baby face and looks at least five years younger than she actually is, so to the other college kids, she's one of them.

“Fine, I’ll be here for the party.”

Harper’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, but if any of his friends grab my ass, I’m leaving.”

She laughs. “Okay.”

The coffee machine beeps, so she gets up from her seat, grabs a mug and creamer and pours the steaming, hot liquid into her cup. She returns to her seat and sips her coffee as I once again try to leave. “Thanks for starting the coffee, Aud.”

“No problem. See you tonight.” I unlock the door, and when I pull it open, I notice a folded up crisp piece of copy paper taped to the outside. I cock my brow and peel it off, unfolding it. I’m expecting it to be from the building management.

But then I read the first line...

To the two hoity-toity princesses,

I immediately suspect it’s from mister grumpy pants across the hall, but the letter is in fancy cursive writing. Who even writes in cursive anymore? Maybe an old lady or mister grumpy pants, I suppose. But he normally doesn’t leave letters. He’ll just knock on the door with his cane and chew us out in person. Harper said the first time he knocked on her door to complain about the noise, he made her cry.

When he tries that shit with me, I give it right back to him and threaten to call the cops on his dog and have her taken to the pound. He tends to leave us alone now. So, I’m surprised he’s resorted to leaving us notes.

Can you kindly tone down your loud music and obnoxious woohooing, laughter and overall commotion that kept me up until 2 a.m.? Some people actually have to work on a Tuesday morning. I, myself, wake at 5 a.m. every single day and am now forced to go to work on three hours of sleep. Luckily the students I teach possess much more class and are at maturity levels you both obviously could never achieve if you actually tried. I know neither of you could possibly understand waking up early for a job or getting your hands dirty, as you’re city girls who probably live on mommy and daddy’s income and never worked a day in your lives, but some people actually have responsibilities and obligations, not just classes they can skip whenever they feel like it. So have a little respect and lower the volume a few notches.

This time you get a warning, but if the noise persists, I will be forced to contact law enforcement. Have a lovely day drinking your Starbucks lattes and trying to get rid of what I hope are nasty hangovers.

Sincerely,

The tired and cranky guy from 8C, thanks to his loud, annoying neighbors

P.S. The blonde who took my brown dress shoe owes me a new pair seeing as it now reeks of Pinot Grigio, thank you very much.

My nostrils flare before I even finish reading the letter. The audacity of this asshole! He doesn’t even know us, hell he hasn’t even met me in person, yet he makes all kinds of false assumptions about us.

I know neither of you could possibly understand waking up early for a job or getting your hands dirty.

What the actual fuck?! Harper and I both wake up at the crack of dawn to go to work at the hospital, and we’re constantly on our feet for at least twelve hours. We only work three days a week, but our jobs are emotionally and physically draining; I mostly use the other four days to sleep, recover, clean the apartment and run errands. So, for someone to say we don’t work or ever get our hands dirty is a blow to the gut. We’re nurses for crying out loud! Getting our hands dirty is part of the job!

Another remark of his that irks me: We’re city girls who probably live on mommy and daddy’s income. My parents would actually laugh out loud if they read this comment. They always tell me how independent I am. Hell, I wouldn’t even allow them to pay for my schooling even though they wanted to; I wanted to do it all on my own, so I had two jobs while I went to college. They also weren’t too happy when I took a job in New York, but they told me if anyone could handle herself in a big city, it was me. Not to mention, Harper had it way worse than me, growing up.

But the fact that this douchebag is so ridiculously wrong about us makes me smile a little. It will feel so goddamn good to make him see the error of his ways.

I’m still carrying the letter with me as I go to my bedroom closet and grab my stationary from the top shelf. I take out a sheet of paper and a pen from the box, replace it on the shelf and return to the kitchen. I hate the idea of using my good paper on this asshole, but if I’m going to stoop to his level and leave a note on his door, I might as well do it with class.

“What’s the note about?” Harper asks with furrowed brows. “I paid the rent just in the nick of time.”

“It’s not from management.” I take the pen and paper to the table and start writing out a letter. “It’s from our friendly neighbor in 8C,” I say sarcastically.

Her eyes widen as she reaches for the letter. “What did he say?”

I look up and hand it to her.

When she reads it over, the sleepiness in her eyes morphs into anger. “What the hell?! Who does he think he is? He doesn’t even know us!”

“Exactly.” I look down again at the paper and continue the sentence I was working on.

I can feel her staring at me as I write. “What are you doing?”

“Replying to him,” I say without taking my eyes off the page.

“What, are we in elementary school?”

“According to him, we are.”

“He’s just a douchebag, you can’t take anything he says seriously.”

I almost laugh. Normally she’s the one wanting revenge when someone wrongs her, and I’m the one having to talk her out of it. “Maybe, but this will teach him not to make assumptions about people.”

After I’m finished, I let her read it before I tape it to his door. I head to work with a smile on my face. This should teach him not to be such a dickhead.

Chapter Five

Brady

Dear self-righteous butthole in 8C,

~~~

Stay tuned for more...

If you would like to be tagged or untagged, please let me know

@onceuponaprincessworld​ @teamhook​ @artistic-writer​@ilovemesomekillianjones @hollyethecurious​ @gingerchangeling​@ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4​ @searchingwardrobes​ @snowbellewells​ @let-it-raines​ @wellhellotragic​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @lfh1226-linda​ @sophiaaz​ @becausetheyrehappythisway​ @thislassishooked​ @hookedmom​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @kateroselin​ @chamomileandmint @kday426​ @sals86​ @lawgeeks​ @yasbio2015​ @xsajx​ @delightfully-difficult-pirate​ @wanderingjpg​ @squidvisious​ @tenaciouskittynight​ @biefaless​ @animatedshorts​ @lassluna​ @ejunkiet​ @melsbels​ @meat-pie-with-sauce​ @roseyflush​ @ivalane​ @tiganasummertree​ @nowforruin​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @nikkiemms @oncechicagolove​ @theonewiththeory​ @lostinwonderland314​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @arshini01 @companion-mala​​ @carpedzem​​ @youareafeverdream​​ @maguilar1028​​ @mayquita​​ @courtorderedcake​​ @shady-swan-jones​​ @timeless-love-story​​ @laschatzi​​ @officerrogers​​ @spartanguard​​ @andiirivera​​ @ouatpost​​ @jarienn972​​ @winterbythesea​​ @winterbaby89​​ @distant-rose​​ @xhookswenchx

[auror-lovie]

I Loved You, Mr. Scamander; Chapter 3

━━━•✦.✧. Author’s Note.✧.✦•━

Chapter 3!

You can find the playlist link in my bio! If you want to be added to my taglist, just send me an ask or fill out the taglist form that is also linked in my bio!

━━━━━•✦.✧. Summary .✧.✦•━

Newt comes to terms with his feelings. Years go by, Theseus and (Y/N) part ways. Leta enters the picture and Paris seems to be calling them.

━━━━━•✦.✧. Warnings .✧.✦•━

Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald spoilers!

Another Hamilton reference~! (It’s small, but you’ll catch it)

LETA REDEMPTION (Because all we really need is to talk things out like adults.)

I had to make up some wizard version of “distance bracelets”

In this house, we stan healthy mutual breakups. None of that over-dramatized stuff. (Although those types of breakups are usually the norm)

It’s a little sad.

━━━━━━•✦.✧.☾.✧.✦•━━━━━

“Just know that before Theseus… It was always you.”

(Y/N)’s last words echoed in his head for quite a while. What did she mean it was always him?

“It’s not like I liked her or anything.” He mumbled to the Bowtruckle resting on his shoulder.

Pickett chirped as if to say “Yes you do!”

Newt scoffed. “It’s not like I like the way her eyes light up like stars when she’s excited! O-Or the way she plays with the ends of her sleeve when she’s nervous! Or how I know she likes milk and honey in her tea…” He sighed and leaned against the wall of the shed.

“I don’t like her… I don’t wonder what it’d be like to wrap my arms around her when I finally kiss her. I don’t wonder what it’d be like to hold her hand and walk the town. And I don’t wonder what life would be like for us if I told her that I…” Newt ran his hand through his hair. “No… I don’t like her…”

He looked at Pickett, “I love her…”

The Bowtruckle nodded

“But she’s with Theseus now… And if he makes her happy… Then I’m happy for both of them.”

It took a while for Newt to come to terms with his feelings. A year to be exact. He had his research and creatures to keep him busy. Though it didn't help when his mind would wander to thoughts of (Y/N).

He had to face his feelings like a grown-up. Newt finally wrote her a letter, apologizing for his behavior on that day. To his surprise, she wrote back.

My Dearest, Newton

It’s been so long, but there was never a day where I’d hope and wait for one of your letters. I would've waited for as long as it took- forever even. Now, I would’ve written to you first, but that would’ve rushed things on your end and I didn’t want that. I wanted to give you time. Merlin knows how stubborn you can be.

Once again, I do apologize for not telling you that I was dating your brother. Like most important news, we wanted to tell you in person. I hope you can find it somewhere in your heart to forgive me.

How are you, Newton? Are you eating well? Taking care of yourself? (Your creatures are not the only ones that need care). If not, I’ll go and take care of you myself, like the old days- AFTER I scold you. Also, this may be a bit soon, but Theseus and I are still willing to meet up for tea. Let me know when you’re available.

With Love,

(Y/N)

Of course, he’d forgiven her. He’d done so the moment she left him alone in the hallway. And scold him? Who was she, Victoria?

Newt let out a soft chuckle as he set down her letter in a box. This box contained every memento he had of (Y/N)- from photos, to letters, to news clippings. “I’ll always forgive you…”

•✦.✧.🔎.✧.✦•

Theseus was a bit skeptical when (Y/N) decided to visit Newton a Saturday. Not that he didn’t trust her or Newt. It was out of the blue. For a year they hadn’t been in correspondence, but now they were acting as if they were never apart?

~*~*~

Newt and (Y/N) spent most of the day in his case. The hours ticked by as he introduced her to all the creatures he’d written about in his letters.

“Mummy’s here…” He cooed as he showed her the occamys.

(Y/N) giggled, “You’re their mummy?” “Of course I am. Being a single parent is hard!” He huffed. (Y/N) thought for a moment, then an idea popped into her head. “Then as your best friend, I get daddy rights.” She claimed. “Y-You can’t do that!” “Too late, Mr. Scamander. It’s decided.” “Says who?” “Says Pickett!” She replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Newt frantically looked around his coat. He patted it, trying to find his beloved Bowtruckle. “Pickett?” Her smirk turned into a soft smile. “Come on out, Pickett. Or your mum will get a heart attack.” She whispered to the creature hiding in her coat pocket. Pickett crawled out of her pocket and rested on (Y/N) shoulder. He chirped, making Newt look up. Newt let out a sigh of relief, “Pickett, don’t scare me like that…” He looked at (Y/N), “Consider yourself lucky, he never leaves my side... Commitment issues.” (Y/N) looked at Pickett in awe as he crawled onto her hand, holding onto her pointer finger. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you…”

~*~*~

That day, Theseus had a meeting with Travers and Victoria. Before the meeting, he asked Victoria if this was normal and she explained that this is how they were. They could spend years apart but put them in the same room and they’d act as if they never were. By letter or being there in person, their friendship was set in stone.

After the meeting, Theseus had gone to Newt’s flat to pick (Y/N) up. Knowing both of them, he knew they’d spend the whole day with his creatures. He knocked on the door and waited. When no one came, he slowly turned the doorknob, not surprised to find it unlocked. He shut the door behind him and walked into the living room. “Newt? (Y/N)?” He called out. Silence. Muffled laughs could be heard from the basement. Theseus smiled. It felt good to know that his girlfriend and his brother were getting along. He made his way to the door of the basement. He opened the door and quietly made his way down the stairs. “Brother!” He cheered, but his brother seemed distracted. Newt was staring at something in the distance. Well, whatever he was looking at, it wasn’t in fear or wonder. It was something else. “Why didn’t you answer the door? I could’ve been a serial killer.” Theseus said as he continued down the stairs. “I was wondering if…” Reaching the bottom of the steps, he paused. Newt was leaning forward on the desk, resting his chin on his palm. Theseus knew that look. He hadn’t seen it on his brother before, but he had seen this look on himself. It was love. ‘What could he be looking at-’ He thought as he looked in the same direction as Newt. And there he saw it. (Y/N) was holding a bucket of food over the mooncalves crowding around her. “O-Okay everyone, listen to daddy!” The mooncalves looked at the bucket she was holding. She smiled and tipped the bucket, pouring the food in the spaces that weren’t occupied by a mooncalf. The herd turned their attention from (Y/N) to the food. Though one was still nudging her side. (Y/N) looked at the lone mooncalf and giggled, “Harold, I don’t have any more food. Go on!”

“Harold” stared at her for a moment before running back to the area with food. (Y/N) looked at the mooncalves before paying attention to the Niffler hanging on her shoulder. “And you, Niffler! You can’t go around stealing daddy’s wrist watch!”

Theseus could help but stare at the scene with the same look as Newt. His shoulders became more relaxed- putting aside what happened during the meeting. He shook his head, breaking from his trance and finally made his way over to Newt. He patted Newt’s shoulder, startling the younger Scamander brother.

Newt flinched before looking to whoever brought him back to reality. His face changed from annoyance to relief when he saw his brother standing there, “Theseus! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I was calling out to you for the past ten minutes!”

“Guess I was a little distracted….” Newt said nervously.

“Thes!” (Y/N) called out, causing the brothers to look at her. “C-Can we get one?” She asked, walking towards them while cradling Niffler.

•✦.✧.🔎.✧.✦•

Soon, things went back to normal. Newt and (Y/N) were exchanging letters like never before. The universe seemed to be giving them a time of peace. Then again… there’s always an unsettling calm before the storm.

~*~*~

(Y/N) and Victoria walked into the Ministry's Headquarters one morning, chatting about new tactics to try out. Victoria recognized an old friend standing in front of the building directory booth.

“Leta…” She muttered. “Where?” (Y/N) asked, looking around the entrance hall. “Oh.” “I… I’m going to talk to her,” Victoria hesitated. How does one talk to someone they cut off and haven’t seen in years?

(Y/N) placed a hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “Hey… If you feel uncomfortable, you don’t have to force yourself into a situation if it’s going to cause you anxiety.”

Victoria stared at Leta for a moment before looking at (Y/N), giving a nervous smile. She stuck her hand out, her palm facing toward the ceiling. (Y/N) smiled and held her hand, interlocking their fingers. No words, but the message was clear: “I’m right here.”

The pair walked up to Leta, hand in hand, who was standing near a bench. Victoria took a deep breath and exhaled before tapping Leta’s shoulder. “L-Leta?” She stuttered. (Y/N) noticed this small sign and lightly squeezed Victoria’s hand. Leta turned around. “Yes?- Victoria?” Her gaze shifted to see (Y/N). “(Y/N)? What are you two doing here?” “We work here!” (Y/N) trying to make light of the situation. “I guess I’ll be seeing you two more. I started working here recently…” Leta trailed off. A moment of awkward silence passed and (Y/N) nudged Victoria’s arm. Victoria, finally finding the courage to say something, looked at Leta again. “Hey, I know we ended things on a bad note in our sixth year. And… I want to apologize for not being there for you. Newt wasn’t just our friend, he was yours too.” “Victoria, you don’t have to apologize-” Leta started. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to or see right now, but all I ask is for your forgiveness. Maybe the three of us could meet up for tea?” Victoria said, her hand now shaking as she held (Y/N)’s. “Three?” Leta asked. Victoria motioned to (Y/N) and gave a shy smile. Leta hesitated for a moment. She could deny the request. She could make a scene. She could- but she wouldn’t. They were adults. Being petty and making a scene was childish behavior and she was above that. They all were. “Of course. You two are as inseparable as you were in school.” Leta said with a smile.

•✦.✧.🔎.✧.✦•

Years went by and Grindelwald’s members were getting stronger and smarter. They were using tactics (Y/N) and Victoria never heard of. Their mission assignments were rarely with each other. Even more so, they were far away from the other. Worried about each other’s well-being, (Y/N) had gotten them friendship bracelets. Each bracelet had a charm- Victoria’s charm was a crescent moon and (Y/N)’s charm was a star. Victoria had put spells and enchantments on the charms. It was to signal when the other was near and only activated when they were on missions. Despite the troubling times, (Y/N), Leta and Victoria repaired their friendship. They had tea, shopping days and sleepovers to make up for the lost time during their school years. As for Theseus and (Y/N)... There was trouble in paradise. They rarely spent time with each other outside of work. All they ever talked about was work: what their next move was, who was going on what assignments. They tried to make time for each other… They did... Warm hugs and passionate kisses turned into “Don’t go” hugs and “Goodbye” kisses. The mental stress and constant fatigue were straining both of them. It wasn’t toxic to the point where they were spitting out abuse, but the emotional neglect is what got to them. They loved each other, but the timing wasn’t right. Their break up was inevitable. With the war going on, they both decided it was best for them to stop seeing each other. If (Y/N) prided herself in anything besides her work ethics, it’d be her ability to keep her professional and personal life separate. Sure, Theseus and her broke up, but that didn’t stop her from working with him. She didn’t run away. (Y/N) continued to work by his side, always hoping for the best and a safe return.

•✦.✧.🔎.✧.✦•

With Grindelwald in the custody of the Magical Congress of the United States of America or MACUSA, things had finally settled down. It was Valentine’s Day and Victoria had decided to take (Y/N) out for dinner- a girl’s night out. “Newt ran into this muggle, or no-maj as they call them in America, and they had a suitcase mishap. Next thing you know, his creatures were out and about in New York! Not only that, but he also aided in the capture of Grindelwald.” (Y/N) praised. “Now you sound like his mum.” Victoria joked, sipping on her wine. “Mrs. Scamander? Oh, she’s such a dear. I love her!” “You had two chances to be her daughter-in-law, but I guess the universe had other plans.” Victoria shrugged playfully. “Vi! That’s uncalled for!” (Y/N) huffed. “I’m just stating facts, love,” Victoria said, her gaze following a couple being ushered to a table. Theseus and Leta- “Wanna just get take out?” She said abruptly. “I’m fine just sitting here, Vi…” Victoria eyed the couple as they sat down, “I-It’s no trouble. We can just get our food and eat it at home…” With furrowed brows, (Y/N) turned in her seat to see what Victoria was looking at. “What are you looking at-” “(Y/N), don’t” Too late. “Oh…” (Y/N) turned back and looked at Victoria. “I… I think I’ll take that offer on take out…” Victoria flagged down a waiter and asked if they could take their meal to go. (Y/N) sighed, swishing the water in her glass. “I never thought I’d need to do this again…” Victoria tilted her head to the side, “What do you need, dear?” “I… I need a week.” “Say no more, I’ll tell Theseus you need a week off.” Her week to get over Theseus was a bit different than her week to get over Newt. Mind you, she still punched a wall and wrote letters that she immediately destroyed, but she was an adult now. Meaning she could drink.

~*~*~

“Alright, stand all together! Mr. Scamander- Ah, not you. The younger one! Yes, you! Newt! Smile!” The photographer for the Daily Prophet ordered as the camera flashed. After the book release, they all met up at the Ritz for dinner. “Congratulations, Newt! I’m so proud of you!” (Y/N) cheered. “Thanks (Y/N). I couldn’t do it without you. You’ve been my motivator since forever.” Newt admitted shyly. “Ouch. I'm so offended…” Victoria said dramatically. Newt chuckled nervously. “Of course you all played a part in writing my book. Although, I did appreciate not getting a howler for my birthday.” He gave Victoria a look. “That one time was the most aggressive birthday greeting I’ve ever received.” “Take a joke, Newton!” Victoria grinned. “Since we’re here to celebrate, Theseus and I have something to say,” Leta announced to the table. “Leta and I…” Theseus started, holding Leta’s hands in his. “We…” “Theseus, if you don’t say something, I will toss this roll at you.” Victoria teased, roll already in hand. Leta rolled her eyes playfully before giving her full attention to the group. “Theseus and I are engaged!” This caused (Y/N) and Newt to choke on their water. Theseus and Leta were… engaged…? Victoria set the roll down on her plate and looked at (Y/N) and Newt. The couple took their reactions as a good sign. Theseus smiled and looked at Newt. “Newt… I’d like to ask if you’d be my best man.” “W-Well… Alright…” Newt mumbled. As for (Y/N) she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Years of being with Theseus and the topic of marriage rarely came up. But… Leta and Theseus were only together for a short while… ‘Why was it always Leta?’ She thought. Her breathing became shallow. There was this ache in her chest- she needed air, but her heart felt like it was racing a mile a minute. She felt like she was phasing out of reality. The surrounding noise became deafening. She felt dizzy and her palms started to sweat. All she felt like doing was getting out of there. Victoria noticed this. “Hey! (Y/N) and I have to run to the restroom. I seem to have stained my shirt and I need (Y/N) to help me wash it off.” Before anyone could say anything, Victoria held out her hand, her palm facing the ceiling. (Y/N) nodded and held her hand. The pair of them stood and rushed to the restroom. Little did they know, Newt noticed the signs as well. And all he could do was sit there. After all, Victoria knew how to calm her down. She always did.

~*~*~

Once in the restroom, Victoria locked the door. (Y/N) had flung herself into her friend’s arms and started to sob. “I don’t understand… Why Leta? I don’t hate her, but it’s always her…” (Y/N) cried and she hugged Victoria. Victoria sighed and rubbed (Y/N)’s back. “I don’t know either… She was always attractive and charming. Her hair was shiny and flowed nicely. Her personality was different from the stereotypical Slytherin.” (Y/N) sniffed and looked up at her friend in confusion. “With talk like that, it sounds like you fancy her.” She shrugged, “I did once, but that was a long time ago. When she hurt Newt… No, when she hurt you, that’s when I stopped. I couldn’t love someone who would ever think about hurting you or Newt.” “What about McLaggen-” “We don’t talk about the twat. He was an entitled prick that tried to shag me on the first date.” Victoria gagged. (Y/N) giggled. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. Theseus and I are friends. Leta and I are friends… So why does it hurt to see them already engaged?” Victoria held her by the shoulders. “(Y/N), my love, your feelings are valid. Even if you moved on it’s okay to relapse or reminisce once in a while. What you don’t do is spiral back into a corner of isolation. I understand that it happens, and those feelings are valid as well. I want you to know that I’m here for you. And so is Newt. We’ll be right here for you like we always have.” “Victoria…” She trailed off. “Ah-ah. Don’t go falling for me. Or I’ll show those Scamander brothers what they’re missing for not treating you the way you deserve to be treated.” Victoria teased, giving a wink. It always made her heart flutter when (Y/N) said her full first name. “Tempting, but what I was going to say was thank you. Thank you for being my best friend.” (Y/N) said before walking over to the sink to wash her face. “Don’t let Newt hear that. He’ll throw a fit and be all pouty.” Turning off the faucet, she flicked some water towards Victoria. “Hey watch it! Dry cleaning isn’t cheap!” Victoria exclaimed, trying to block the droplets of water. Giggling, she grabbed some towels and dabbed her face dry. (Y/N) sighed in content. “Okay, I’m ready to face them.”

~*~*~

“Victoria! (Y/N)! You’re back!” Leta cheered. (Y/N) smiled, “Y-Yeah. It was quite the stain.” “Hope you three didn’t miss us too much~” Victoria teased as they sat down in their seats. “Now that you’re here… (Y/N), I’d like you to be my maid of honor!” (Y/N) blushed. “M-Me? Oh, I don’t know…” If she were to accept, that meant she’d be close to Newt for pictures and seating arrangements. “Please? It would mean a lot to me.” Leta begged, her lips forming into a pout.

She glanced at Victoria before looking at Leta, “Only if Victoria will be one of your bridesmaids.” “I was already planning on it.”

•✦.✧.🔎.✧.✦•

According to the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Newt’s efforts in New York didn’t sit well with them. He was on a temporary travel ban and was there today to try and revoke it or to at least shorten it. To his dismay, it did not go as planned. Newt walked out of the meeting in defeat. He bumped in (Y/N), who held onto his coat. “Any luck?” She whispered. Newt shook his head. “No… The only way they would lift it is if I worked as an Auror, under my brother’s direction.” “Ah, I see.” She trailed off. (Y/N) looked around before saying anything. “I’m waiting to hear from Dumbledore about our next rendezvous.” “Newt!” Theseus called out, finally catching up to his brother. Newt turned to face Theseus, while (Y/N) let go of Newt’s arm. “You think I like the idea of Grimmson any more than you do?” Theseus spoke testily. Being out of breath didn’t help his temper caused by Newt’s actions. “Listen, I don’t want to hear how the ends justify the means, Theseus.” “I think you’re gonna have to pull your head out of the sand!” Exasperated, Newt replied, “Okay, right, here we go. What a selfish… irresponsible...” “You know, the time is coming when everyone’s going to have to pick a side. Even you.” “I don’t do sides.” “Newt.” (Y/N) said firmly. Theseus looked past his brother to see (Y/N) standing there awkwardly. She’d never seen them argue like this before. Newt took the small distraction and turned to go, but Theseus grabbed his arm to hold him back. “C’mere,” Theseus said as he pulled him into a hug. Newt didn’t reciprocate but didn’t push Theseus away either. “They’re watching you,” Theseus whispered in Newt’s ear. (Y/N) cleared her throat causing Theseus to pull away. Theseus looked at her, “(Y/N), I-” She held up her hand, signaling him to stop. “All the paperwork is complete. And I’ll make sure Newt gets home safely and doesn’t do anything to increase his travel ban sentence.” Theseus raised a brow in confusion, “There’s no need for you to-” “Theseus, Travers needs to meet with you immediately,” Victoria announced from behind. “I guess I’ll leave it to you. See you, (Y/N),” He said before leaving the three of them in the hallway. Victoria made her way to (Y/N) and Newt, making sure no one else was around to hear. “I can’t go with you this time, but keep me updated. Dumbledore is waiting for you.”

~*~*~

After the day’s events had passed, all Newt wanted was to return home and be in the comfort of his creatures. (Y/N) had tagged along, but he didn’t mind. She was the creatures’ father figure after all. The pair walked swiftly up the front step but paused outside the front door. The lights in Newt’s sitting room were flashing on and off. Newt opened the front door cautiously as they entered the house. They spotted a baby Niffler swinging from the brass cord of a table lamp, which caused the light to flicker on and off. The baby Niffler succeeded in stealing the brass cord before spotting Newt. It scampered away, knocking all manner of objects to the floor. (Y/N) had spotted a second baby Niffler sitting on a set of weighing scales, pinned down by gold-colored weights it was attempting to steal. Newt and (Y/N) looked at each other and nodded. They had a plan. The first baby made its way to the dining table. It caused a saucepan to drop on top of it, as it continued moving across the table. Newt tossed an apple into the opposite weighing scale, sending the baby Niffler flying into the air. She caught both baby Nifflers as they fell, then tucked them into her pockets. Satisfied, they headed toward the door to his basement but turned at the last moment to see a third escaped baby Niffler climbing onto a bottle of champagne on the counter. Inevitably, the champagne bottle popped and the baby Niffler zoomed toward them on top of the cork, soaring past them and down the stairs to the basement. “Bunty! Bunty, darling, the baby Nifflers are loose again!” (Y/N) called out. Bunty, Newt’s assistant, hurried into view. She was a plain girl who was crazy about creatures and hopelessly in love with Newt. She peeled off the Nifflers, from (Y/N)’s hands, with freshly bandaged fingers. She tempted the last baby Niffler- the champagne cork rider- with a gold necklace, then tucked all three into a nest full of sparkling objects. “Well done,” Newt said, smiling at (Y/N). She returned the smile. “I’m so sorry, Newt, they must have picked the lock while I was cleaning out the Augureys-” Bunty apologized. “Not to worry, dear. It was an accident.” (Y/N) reassured. The three walked together among the enclosures. “Hmm . . . I’ve fed nearly everyone, Pinky’s had his nose drops, and-” “-And Elsie?” (Y/N) asked. “Elsie’s droppings are nearly normal again,” Bunty said, matter-a-factly. “Wonderful. You can clock off now-” Newt looked at her fingers. “I told you to leave the Kelpie to me and (Y/N).” “That wound needs more ointment!” She argued.

“I don’t want you losing fingers over it.” Newt marched toward a patch of black water. Bunty trotted in his wake, following him like a school girl following her crush. “Seriously, you go home now, Bunty. You must be exhausted.” “You know the Kelpie’s easier with two.” She pleaded, really wanting to help. (Y/N) rolled her eyes. ‘Not to be mean, Bunty, but please leave…’ They approached the water and Newt unhooked a bridle hanging beside the pond. “Perhaps you should take off your shirt?” Bunty suggested, hopeful. Newt, oblivious to her intentions, replied, “Don’t worry, I’ll dry off quickly enough.” He smiled and jumped into the water. (Y/N) cleared her throat. “Come on, Bunty. Off you pop. Newt and I can take care of Kelpie.” She said with a forced smile on her face. Bunty, flustered, nodded quickly. “Y-Yes ma’am.” She stuttered before clocking off and exiting the basement. (Y/N) sighed as she waited for Newt to emerge. Newt burst back out of the water and Kelpie was bridled. Now docile, it shook its mane. “Someone needed to let off some steam. Ointment, love?” (Y/N) handed it over. Still mounted, Newt applied ointment to a wound on Kelpie's neck. When he dismounted Kelpie, he settled down next to (Y/N) to catch his breath. “Someone had fun.” She teased. Newt laughed, “You try holding your breath whilst holding onto Kelpie!” “I would’ve used the Bubble-Head Charm.”

He flicked water at her face, “I-I get it. I’m bad at Charms.” “Luckily for you, I received an outstanding in Charms~!” She claimed. “Y-You see, I would have thought of that, but Bunty… You know…” “Distracted you?”

“Exactly. Although… I wouldn’t mind being distracted by someone else…” He said, muttering the last part.

She heard that- “And who would you make this exception for?” (Y/N) asked, brushing his hair off to the side.

The tension was high. She knew it was a messed up thing for her to start falling in love with Newt all over again. She couldn’t help it. Love was selfish and so was she. She had loved Theseus with her whole heart. Only for the flames to be extinguished by the troubles of fighting a war that was bound to happen. Now that Theseus and Leta were planning to get married, she fell back to Newt.

He wasn’t taking the news well either. It seemed like he had no closure. Love was selfish and so was he. He realized that he was only infatuated with Leta. With (Y/N)... He knew he loved her. So much that there would always be a small part of his heart that held his love for her so close. And no one would replace that.

‘You…’ He thought.

•✦.✧.🔎.✧.✦•

Travers had called (Y/N) into his office. He leaned forward, his hands folded together. “I have a solo assignment for you.” “What mission could result in me going solo in a time like this?” She asked, feeling a bit uneasy. (Y/N) rubbed the star charm on her bracelet in a clockwise motion- signaling Victoria that she was being sent on a mission. “Since you and Newton Scamander are pretty close, I want you to keep a close eye on him. With his loyalty towards Albus Dumbledore, we can believe that Newt would go to him for a way to sneak under the radar to travel internationally.” Travers informed. “But sir-” “That’s an order, Miss (L/N).” He said, sternly. “Why do I need to go solo? You always encourage us to have a battle buddy. I request for Victoria Howard to accompany me on this mission.” “Request denied. She will be accompanying us to interrogate Dumbledore. Now, what is your assignment?” “To follow and keep an eye on Newton Scamander. And to report back to you if he’s seen breaking his travel ban or any other suspicious activity.” (Y/N) replied monotonously. Who knew that this assignment would lead (Y/N) to follow Newt and Jacob, his muggle friend from New York, to Paris?

[aarcanechaoss]

Grown Up

Sakusa and Tatsu: smut // Tatsu wasn’t feeling like herself and Sakusa taking care of her might be just what she needed

Tatsu didn’t feel like an adult. She still very much felt like she was that eighteen year old at Karasuno keeping an eye on her sixteen year old brother. Now she’s twenty-four while he’s twenty-two.

Some days she forgot that in some regards she was a famous figure skater- next to Yuuri Katsuki in Japan at least.

Some days she wanted to lay in bed and never get up.

Some days she’d cry and shake and no one would be around to see it or hear about it. The only people who did know was her family.

She hated being a grown up it was tiring and straining mentally, emotionally and physically.

It was a fairly standard day she’d promised to hang out with Hinata at the MSBY dorms but she didn’t want to get up. Her eyes and chest felt heavy and the realisation that she needed to get up had her in tears. With a sigh she had gotten up and dressed just jeans and a t shirt and was now in front of their dorm. She knocked. For a moment she caught her reflection and grimaced... maybe she should have put on makeup today.

“Tatsu!” Hinata called throwing open the door. She jumped. “Sorry for startling you come in.”

“You have so much energy Shoyo Hinata.” She yawned.

“Ah yes I get told that a lot.” He said with a blush.

“Oh hey Tatsu.” Adriah smiles.

“Morning Adriah how are you?”

“I’m good. You? You seem tired got a comp coming up?”

“Uh yeah.” She lied. “Just over practiced yesterday.”

“If you were tired you didn’t have to come.” Hinata pouted. “Kenma is busy today and I knew you had the day off I should have let you have a break.”

“No Sho it’s fine.” She laughed. “I practice hard all the time plus I wanna hang with my favourite short person.”

“Hey! Just because you Kageyama’s are tall-“

“TATSU!” Bokuto yelled lifting the woman and spinning her around. She laughed and hugged him back.

“Hey Kotaro.”

“Tatsu.” Sakusa greeted as he spotted her. He was dressed in sweats and a long sleeved shirt. On a normal day her eyes would probably cling to their attractive forms her confidence feeling faded today. She smiled.

“Hi Omi.” She said softly. His eyes were expressive with her, she could see the worry in his eyes. “So Sho what’s on the agenda?”

“Movie?”

“Horror?”

“Of course.”

“Why couldn’t you have been my brother?” She sighs. Tobio preferred comedies much to the surprise of many and maybe a stray romance or sci-fi film.

“Conjuring okay?” Hinata asked. “It’s got subtitles and I actually haven’t seen it yet.”

“Sounds good to me.” Tatsu said. Sakusa and Bokuto agreed as they decided to join the usually hyper duo.

Her joking was weaker than usual. Even Bokuto noticed. She liked to make fun of movies even if it was a favourite movie- Sakusa was sat beside her watching the way her fingers twitched and jaw tightened whenever the screen got dark. Something was up. She took in a shaky breath as the second film finished.

“Just gonna go to the bathroom. Omi is it alright if I use yours?”

“It’s fine.”

“Don’t wait up for me.” She said before disappearing down the hall to the germaphobes private bathroom.

Ten minutes passed and she hadn’t returned.

Ten turned to fifteen.

Fifteen turned to twenty.

“Should we check on her?” Hinata asked. Bokuto nodded.

“I’ll go. You keep watching movies if she’s not well I’ll... take her home or something.” He said with a shiver just thinking about her potentially being sick. His brows furrowed she didn’t look sick, tired but not unwell... maybe even a little sad.

He knocked on the door his ear close to the wood. Shaky breaths could be heard.

“Tatsu.”

“Sorry Sakusa um... cramps?”

“Nice try but Atsumu was complaining ltwo weeks ago about you having your period.” He sighed. “Open the door.”

“It’s not locked.” He heard. He opened the door slowly to see the normally confident woman sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest. He crouched.

“Let’s go to my room sitting on the cold floor could get you sick.” He said helping her up.

Guiding her to his room he made sure to lock the door behind him so Bokuto and Hinata wouldn’t barge in. He sends them a quick text he says she’s feeling sleepy and will be having a nap in his room and to not disturb her.

“I told them you wanted to take a nap.”

“Cool.”

“Alright what’s going on?” He asked awkwardly.

“Do you like me?”

“What?”

“I mean as a person not as in a crush way.”

“Yes I like you. I wouldn’t have let you you know if I didn’t like or trust you.”

“Why though? Some days I look in the mirror and see that psycho eighteen year old who hadn’t a problem getting into a fight. Sometimes I see someone worth nothing and sometimes I see someone who is just okay. I’m a confident person every knows that... but some days I’m not.”

“And today is one of those days?” She nods. Slowly he places his arms around her pulling her into a hug. They were just standing there quietly. “Do you want me to do anything?”

“I don’t know. A distraction sounds good.”

“What kind of distraction do you have in mind?” He looked down slightly while she looked up. “You are vulnerable now I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Your voice got so soft Kiyoomi.” She said tugging at his mask. “It doesn’t have to go far if you... don’t think.”

“I’ll go as far as you are comfortable to.”

His mask was pulled away.

“I promised you a kiss next time right?”

“Ta-“ her mouth pressed against his. His hands found purchase on her waist while hers were on his. She pressed him to the wall.

Her lips were soft and plump, he swallowed back the urge to nip at them. His fingers teased the skin where her shirt had moved making goosebumps appear. Nimble fingers rested in his curly hair tugging him closer to her lips. He pulled away watching as she tried to chase his lips.

“Tatsu.” He said firmly. She pouted her bottom lip jutting out. “I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

“You won’t be it’s consented.”

“You’re upset.”

“No I’m not.”

“Are you sure?” She huffed peeling herself from his body and walking towards his bed. “Answer me.”

“I’m not upset.” She says again. “I just... Omi why is it so hard to find someone to love?”

Sakusa blinked.

“Am I just that quick fuck? Why can’t I let myself settle down? I don’t get it. I’m not upset just lonely.”

He stood their quietly with his brows furrowed. She wasn’t looking at him but she knew he didn’t know what to say. With a sigh she began to remove her jeans making blood flush both to his cheeks and down below.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a nap.”

“Without pants?” He asked with a raised brow.

“Would you nap in jeans?” She said with a scoff before skilfully removing her bra without taking off her shirt too. Crawling into his bed his eyes were drawn to her bare thighs creamy and toned from years on the ice. His eye twitched as he felt himself grow hard.

“Christ woman.” He muttered forcing Tatsu onto her back. His lips found hers again as he settled between her thighs his hips connecting to hers albeit blocked by sweats and underwear. Her legs wrapped around his waist holding him close to her. One of his hands trailed her body thumbs teasing the smooth skin of her thighs. She moaned agaisnt his lips tongue teasing agaisnt the seam.

Their teeth clashed, tongues battled. She forced him to flip over so she was above him.

Without breaking the kiss his back was agaisnt the wall and she was in his lap. Her chest pressed against his, he could feel the soft swells. He could feel her heat grinding agaisnt him.

They pulled apart for a moment before their lips connected again messily. Her hips bucked agaisnt his the seam of his sweats creating a friction in just the right spot. She moaned into his mouth while he kneeded the flesh of her ass.

“Can I?” She asks, her fingers dipping beneath the band of his sweatpants.

“Are you sure?” He asked. Honestly he didn’t want to cum in his pants the thought of that made him feel gross but she needed affection and love maybe he shouldn’t maybe- on her lips found purchase against a sensitive spot on his neck making him buck up into her heat another moan leaving her throat. “That’s cheating.” He puffed.

“How so?”

“I’m trying to make sure you are okay and here you are turning me on.”

“Well that’s my intention.”

“Tatsu-“

“Don’t use that tone on me.”

“Tatsu.” He says again. “I’ll have sex with you but after we are showering and cuddling is that understood?”

“Yes.” He sighed allowing her to continue her ministrations. Her hands roughly pulled at his sweats and boxers pulling them down to his thighs and allowing for his dick to be free. She moved back up her hand pumping his length slowly.

“What are you- Ugh.”

“I don’t wanna get undressed just to get dressed and undressed again.” She shrugs pulling her underwear to the side before sliding him into her wet heat. His hands squeezed her ass.

She paused.

“I have a better idea.” She says.

“It’s better be good my dick is already in you.” He mutters. She leans forward, chest pressing agaisnt his.

“Why don’t you fuck me in the shower? Gets two things out of the way. I get your dick and we get clean.” Her breath fluttered against the shell of his ear making him shiver.

“Fucking hell you grade A tease.”

“I try.”

It didn’t take them long to race to his bathroom a spare change of clothes in hand. Did the others watch them as they did so, maybe, will they say anything, might depend on how loud they’ll be.

The water was warm against their skin. Sakusa pressed himself towards Tatsu. He took in her form and they way she felt on his skin. He dipped down his lips connecting to hers as he pressed her to the wall.

“Taking control that’s new.” She giggled reminiscing the last time they were together.

“Honestly right now Tatsu shut up and let me make you feel better.” He growled lifting her leg to hook around his hip. He shifted allowing himself to enter her again and let out a sigh as he rutted into her. She hummed a moan against his neck leaving a flurry of kisses in her wake.

She bit down onto the juncture of his neck that would make him moan loudly. She smirked.

“How are you going to do that when the first time we fucked you subbed so sweetly for me.” She whispered in his ear as he rocked against her. He growled hands gripping her thigh and hip. The hand on her thigh moved upwards his thumb rubbing against her clit. She jumped at the sudden pressure. He smirked down at her.

“As much as I would rather be beneath you and let you have your way. You need to understand something.” He grunted hips grinding against hers.

“What’s that Omi?”

“You aren’t just a quick fuck to us.. I can’t speak for the ones I don’t know but I, Bokuto, Atsumu, Iwaizumi and Oikawa don’t think that.” He gagged a bit. “I can’t believe I said other peoples names while I’m fucking you.”

“Uh it’s sweet I guess.” She whimpered at the lack of movement. “Move Omi.”

“Anyway.” He thrusted again. “We always come back right. We trust you. We care for you. Just because you don’t think you are worth it doesn’t me the rest of us think you aren’t either. If you are lonely- hng- come to one of us. Bokuto would give you cuddles for hours. Atsumu would probably force feed you Onigiri and I- gah.”

Sakusa bit his lip while trying to slow down his gradually speeding thrusts, his thumb still resting on Tatsu’s clit. He could feel her thighs shake. The hand on her hip moved to her breasts and grabbed at the flesh hurrying her orgasm.

“And you what?” She moaned.

“I’ll be here whenever you need me.”

His lips connected to hers. It was gentle and contrasted greatly to his now quick thrusts and harsh gropes. Her arms dropped down, nails pressing into his back as she came. It was powerful, maybe her best one yet out of the MSBY players. She kissed back but fell slack in his arms as the water continued to fall over their skin, cooling as it did so. He came inside her after one last harsh thrust their teeth bumping slightly as he did.

They panted, Kiyoomi quickly and thoroughly cleaned them off and dragged her out of the shower. Drying himself off he watched as she slowly followed in suit before taking over and not only drying her off but helping her in pulling on her underwear and throwing on one of his large shirts. After getting dressed himself he lifted her up, legs wrapped around his waist as he walked them back to his room~ very much aware of the stares from both Hinata and Bokuto and the newer confused stares of Atsumu and others on the team.

She slept cuddled close into Kiyoomi’s chest with legs tangled in his own. He smiled and gave her hair gentle strokes as he stared at the ceiling.

He’d do anything for Tatsu. He wasn’t alone in this feeling. Her personality was so varied from her brother it was almost like being caught up in a spell and she was so headstrong she hardly told people how she was feeling unless she was angry.

It was decided. He’d talk to everyone else and they’d do something for her- a present? All make it to a competition? Steal Kenma’s money and buy all her favourite food?

He sighed. For now she just needed reassurance.

[iamakiller]

Where Babies Come From

“Dad?  I have a question.”

Our eyes meet over the top of Henry’s head, where he sits propped up by pillows between us on the bed.  You bite your lip to hide your smile.  My plan to bore my son to sleep has been a failure, it seems, since you are the only one who appears to be even slightly drowsy.  As always, Henry’s thirst for knowledge - and wish to delay bedtime for as long as possible - has overruled all else.

I fight the urge to vent my frustration with a sigh.  For all that his constant need to bombard me with questions can be rather tiresome, any negative feeling is vastly overruled by the gratitude I feel that we are all here together.  “Yes, Henry?”

On this occasion, his question is actually related to the topic at hand.  “Where’s Legolas?  They’re in Mirkwood, right?  So Legolas should be there.  Where was the part where he chases after them and jumps on all the barrels?  That was so awesome!”

This time, I allow myself a small sigh of displeasure. “Henry, what have I told you?”

“The book and the movies are very different,” he parrots, obediently.

“And?” I prompt, not quite as gently as I could, because he has somehow managed to omit the main point.

Henry scrunches up his face, trying to remember.  “The book is better?” he offers, with more reluctance than I would like.  

“The book is much better,” I affirm, with a satisfied nod.  “And certainly didn’t necessitate three feature-length movies.”

“I just think Legolas is really cool …” he mutters under his breath, always keen to have the last word.  Today I will allow it.  He is young, and doesn’t know any better.

From the other side of the bed, I hear a small cough.  You are undoubtedly concealing a laugh, because you do not understand how important this is.  I honestly cannot comprehend how you, whose entire career is focused around literature, have somehow managed to never read a single word of Tolkien up until this point.  But we are remedying this sad state of affairs week by week, as I introduce you and Henry - and Little b as well, if they are listening - to the prequel of one of my favorite series of books.

I set the book down on the bookshelf beside the bed, and ruffle Henry’s hair.  “Time to go to sleep, honey.”

Now, another popular stalling tactic comes into play.  Henry clutches at his throat like he is about to go into anaphylactic shock.  “I’m so thirsty,” he croaks.  “May I have a glass of water, please?”

“I’ll get it,” you offer, before I can query if he is actually as parched as he states.  You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, almost immediately grabbing onto the top of the wooden headboard, and squeezing your eyes shut as you do so.

I spring to my feet immediately.  “Are you all right, my love?”

After a few seconds, you open your eyes, and offer a bright smile that is probably more for Henry’s benefit than mine, since he is also staring at you in concern.  “I’m fine.  I just stood up a little too quickly, that’s all.”

As soon as you leave the room, Henry turns to me, his brow furrowed with worry.  “Is Britt okay, Dad?”

“Of course,” I assure him, injecting a level of cheer and confidence into my voice that I do not particularly feel.  You probably are fine, but … what if you are not?  I very much feel that I should have offered to go in your stead, but given that you have refused my help multiple times this week on the grounds that I am fussing over you too much, I thought that perhaps it was best not to push the issue again.  Especially not in front of Henry, who has seen quite enough of the adults in his life bickering with each other ...

Henry doesn’t look convinced.  “Are you sure?”

“Britt is fine, honey.  Being pregnant is extremely hard work, so she has been experiencing a few unpleasant side-effects.  But she is absolutely fine, I promise.”

Henry nods thoughtfully, lapsing into silence for a rare few seconds to fidget with his dinosaur-bedecked duvet cover.  Then, as usual, there is something else.  “I actually had a question about that,” he says ominously.

Over the course of the day, he has already queried what size Little b is at the present time, when we will know if they are a boy or a girl, and if I think they will like dinosaurs as much as he does.  I do not know what else there is to ask.  “Go on …”

“Well, I bought a book about babies on Amazon, and -”

I can’t help but interrupt him, to question him on this point.  “Do you mean your mother bought you a book?”  That would be a pleasant development indeed, though it seems unlikely, since she has barely said two words to me since our dinner at Sandra’s house.

Henry stares at me like I am being very dense.  “Mom left one-touch ordering on.  I can buy whatever I want.  But anyway, I bought a book about babies.  It’s called “Where Babies Come From” and it cost ten dollars, and I’ve read it three times, but Dad … the title is a lie!  The book doesn’t actually tell you where babies come from-”

Mercifully, this alarming thread of conversation is interrupted by you returning with Henry’s water.  You pass the glass to him, and he takes the tiniest sip imaginable before handing it back to you to place it on the nightstand for him.  “Thanks, Britt,” he says.  “I’m sorry you’re having unpleasant side-effects because of the pregnancy.”

You give me a slightly strange look, but smile fondly at Henry.  “That’s very sweet of you.”

It is time, I think, for us to make a quick exit, while he is distracted ...

“Well, goodnight,” I say, beginning to stand up.  

Unfortunately, as is often the case, luck is not on my side.  Henry grabs my arm, preventing me from making my escape.

“I’m not done asking my question, Dad.  I think there might be pages missing from the book.  On page five, it says that the man and the woman have a very special cuddle.  And then on the next page, it says that the sperm fertilizes the egg.  But that doesn’t make sense.  Isn’t the egg inside the woman?  How does the sperm get in there?”

Oh lord ...

On the one hand, I am greatly impressed by my son’s curiosity and attention to detail.  On the other hand, I want to crawl under the bed and hide.

Looking around the room for inspiration or assistance, my gaze falls on you.  But it seems there will be no help to be found there.  You are fighting so hard not to laugh that there are tears in your eyes.  “Excuse me,” you splutter.  “I’m going to go get a glass of water for myself.  I’m having some side-effects, you know.”

I glare at your retreating back.  How dare you abandon me so callously in my time of need?  From the doorway, you turn and glance over your shoulder, giving me a small smile, before disappearing from sight.  I will remember this, I think.   

“Did you ask your mother?” I suggest, after a long pause in which Henry stares at me without blinking, waiting for me to impart my wisdom on this topic.  If only I had some ... but my mind has gone alarmingly blank!

He nods vigorously.  “Yeah.  She said she couldn’t remember because “it happened so fast”.  Then she said that you’re the one with the sperm, so I should ask you.”

Well, that is simply marvelous.  It seems I have been thrown under the bus by my current wife, and my treacherous ex.  Of course, I knew this question would come eventually, since Henry has been so interested in the topic.  But I was not anticipating it for quite some time, and certainly not out of the blue like this.  What am I supposed to tell him?  What on earth is appropriate knowledge for an eight year-old?  I try to mine my own childhood learning for inspiration, but save for Biology lessons in high school in which everyone sniggered at the diagrams in the textbook, I do not remember much of anything being said about reproduction during my time in the education system.  Certainly not in elementary school.

“Dad?”

This is ridiculous.  I am being ridiculous.  I will simply do what I have always done, and tell him the facts as best I can.  

“There are no pages missing from your book, Henry” I assure him.  “It is quite correct that the man and woman have ‘a special cuddle.’”  The wording of that euphemistic phrase is so vile that I almost gag on the words.  “And at the end of that cuddle, the man ... puts his sperm inside the woman.”

My little scholar is unsatisfied by my very slight elaboration on what this cursed book has taught him.  “Yes, but how?  I don’t understand …”

God have mercy on me ...

“Well, he puts a part of himself inside the woman for the duration of the, ah, ‘cuddle’.”

As Henry opens his mouth once more to ask for clarification, I think I actually feel a part of my soul leave my body.  “What part?  One time I saw a kissing scene in a movie Mom told me not to watch, and the boy put his tongue in the girl’s mouth.  Is that what you mean?”

Making a mental note to question Nicole on how closely she is supervising our son, I take a deep breath and answer his question, trying to ignore how ridiculously warm my face feels.  “Not quite.  Actually, the man puts his penis in the woman’s vagina.”

It was much less embarrassing to say it out loud than I had imagined it would be.  I feel a sense of relief - then amusement - wash over me as I take in Henry’s reaction to my words.  His eyes have gone as wide as saucers, and both of his hands are now covering his mouth.  “Oh my god!” he mumbles, through his fingers.  “That’s so gross!”

“I can assure you it isn’t gross at all,” I tell him.  That I am quite confident about, at least.

Henry peels his hands away from his face, not looking convinced at all, in spite of my certainty on the matter.  “I am never putting my penis in a vagina,” he declares.  I will undoubtedly remind him of this when he is older.  “I think I’m ready to go to sleep now,” he tells me, avoiding my gaze, and burrowing right under the lightweight duvet.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I run through the rest of his familiar bedtime routine. The most important point is that I must check under the bed for monsters.  As usual, I find none, though there is rather a lot of Lego which he will be required to clean up in the morning.  The pillows are arranged just right for him, the covers are pulled down slightly so that he can breathe, and I kiss his forehead and stroke his hair just as I used to when he was a baby.  

I bid him goodnight, and close his bedroom door gently behind me.  Although he still has a tendency to wander in and join us in the night, I have a strong suspicion that he will stay put tonight.  I can only hope that he will be feeling a little less awkward in the morning.

When I turn around, I find you standing right behind me, grinning from ear to ear.  “I enjoyed that better than the book,” you inform me.  It seems you have been standing here listening the entire time ...

“Do you think I’ve traumatized him?” I ask.  It is an extreme question, but a genuine one.  “What if he never has a relationship with another human being because of the dreadful way in which I handled that conversation?”

You grab my hand and squeeze it, still smiling.  “You did very well,” you reassure me.  “I’m sure he’s fine.  If he’s still interested, perhaps you could ask him to bring the book with him next week, and we can read it together?”

I cannot think of anything worse than reading the book together, but as always, you have managed to placate me with ease.  I raise your hand to my lips, and kiss the back of it in a silent thank you.  “This isn’t just a ploy to get out of reading the next chapter of The Hobbit, is it?” I ask, already quite sure of the answer.

When I glance up at your face, your eyes are sparkling with mischief.  “It’s getting late,” you say, the corners of your lips twitching as you evade my question entirely.  “Why don’t we go to bed?  I was hoping you could teach me all about those ‘special cuddles’ you seem to be such an expert on.”

I glare at you for your teasing, then snake one of my arms around your waist, pulling you towards me.  My hand settles on the swell of your stomach, the exact source of your unpleasant side-effects, and all of Henry’s awkward questions.  “Hmm.  It seems I already have.”

But I will be more than happy to remind you.  As many times as you require it.  

I am an expert on the subject, after all.

[kpop-zone]

8:24 | Irene

Genre: angst, fluff

Wordcount: 5,665

Request: Hey I am really the feel for angst, so can you have like an argument with Irene and a lot of angst happens there but then eventually Irene is the one who apologizes and a bit of fluff?

A/N: I had planned to post a short scenario on her birthday, but then i couldn’t stop writing... oops. But oh well, happy belated birthday to this queen.

„I’m home!“

You yelled when you opened the door to your apartment, but you didn’t even know why you still bothered. You knew that you would be met by nothing but silence. Your wife only came home to sleep at night. Although sometimes she even failed to do that and slept in Red Velvet’s dorm, because they had a late practice or something.

You sighted loudly and made your way to the bedroom where you changed into some comfortable clothes before starting to prepare dinner in the kitchen. Like usual you set the table for two, only causing you to get even more depressed when you ended up eating alone. To distract yourself from the twitching in your heart, you started to scroll through Instagram.

You didn’t want to be mad at Irene. Being apart from you was exactly as hard for her as it was for you. Often you had to cheer her up, because she felt guilty for not being the wife that she wished she could be. But you assured her every time that you had known from the start what you would sign up for.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t stop yourself from getting sad sometimes. It was only 8 pm on a warm summer evening. The sun was still fighting its defeat in the sky and when you looked out the window, you could see that the streets were still buzzing with life. You would give everything to be able to grab Irene and drive to the Han river to have a romantic stroll or to get some ice cream.

Your mind started to paint different scenarios of the two of you in your head, causing your heart to get even heavier. But you quickly shook your head to stop yourself from daydreaming. Just because you couldn’t enjoy a normal wedded life, didn’t mean that you couldn’t enjoy the best years of your life at all. There was nothing that you couldn’t do on your own.

Therefore, you quickly put on a pair of jeans, your shoes and a light jacket before leaving your house, although a little voice in your head told you not to go outside. You had gotten used to the fact that your wife was famous and that she couldn’t leave the house like she wanted to. What you hadn’t got used to, however, was the fact that people knew you too by now. After all, you dated Korea’s original visual. After your wedding, Irene had announced that she was married to a non-idol, because she was tired of the rumors about her dating fellow idols. No one knew who you were though.

But then some smart fans had started to put the puzzle pieces together. Irene and you had dated for a long while, so of course, you had accompanied her on her tours or went on dates together occasionally. And although there weren’t any photos that were showing the two of you holding hands or kissing, you could be seen in several pictures at the airport or at events in the background. It didn’t take long for the netizens and sasaengs to figure that out.

And from one day to another, your face was everywhere in the internet. People started talking about you and when you left for work the following day, some people suddenly stared at you, trying to figure out why you looked so familiar. You were somewhat famous yourself from that day on.

But you still hadn’t got used to that fact. Irene always told you to not leave the apartment without a disguise. Actually, the best would probably be to never leave it at all, if not for work or any other absolutely necessary occasions. Nevertheless, you didn’t listen to your wife.

You were young and married to a person that was rarely home. What were you supposed to do at home all this time? Therefore, you often just met friends downtown or went shopping. Till now, nothing catastrophic had happened yet. Most times no one recognized you. And even if someone did, you always had luck till now and could flee the scene, before anyone could take any pictures or attack you.

Therefore, you ignored your bad conscious another time when you shut the door of your apartment and happily called an Uber to bring you to Hongdae. You were tired of being alone and you knew that you could never feel alone in that part of town.

But apparently you had pushed your luck today. You had already strolled through several clothing stores, shopping for something to lift your mood, when you suddenly couldn’t get rid of the feeling that someone was watching you. At first, you chose to ignore it, but then you eventually tried to catch a glimpse behind you. Only a few steps apart from you, you could see two girls that seemed to be looking at the jewelry in front of them. But when you turned around another time, you caught their gazes flickering over the edge of the items in their hands and eventually landing on you.

“Shit.”

You muttered under your breath.

Quickly, you left the store, but when you turned around as soon as you were outside, you realized that the girls had followed you. And it seemed like your misfortune only started now. They were joined by some other girls in school uniforms and shamelessly pointed at you.

“That’s Y/N. The one married to Irene.”

You could hear their shrill voices, causing you to speed up.

But apparently, they didn’t care about your discomfort.

“Y/N!!”

One of them suddenly yelled, making all the heads of the people around you turn. Your face turned bright right and you ducked your head low. Suddenly it felt like everyone was staring at you. You needed to get out of there. With big steps, you walked to the place where the driver had dropped you off earlier. But it seemed like the damage was already done.

“Y/N can you give this to Irene?”

“How is it to be married to Irene?”

“You’re not even pretty enough for her.”

Comments reached your ear from left and right, causing you to almost run. Quickly you typed in the number of one of Irene’s drivers. You definitely couldn’t risk an Uber driver to leak your address. Gladly he picked up after the second ring and was willing to pick you up.

You needed to turn several circles around the block, because as soon as you stopped, several people started to swarm you and to give you gifts for your wife. But at last, you received a message, telling you that he was waiting for you. When you finally saw the car, you sighted in relief and basically dove into it.

“Thanks for the lift.”

You grinned sheepishly once you were seated, feeling a little embarrassed that you had to be saved like some unexperienced teenager.

“You know that Irene will kill you right?”

The driver said dryly while glancing at you through the rearview mirror and your grin died down.

He was right. Irene had warned you often enough, but you had always played it down. You knew how concerned she was about you and that she didn’t want to be involved in any scandals. But could she blame you for wanting a little distraction? You remained silent the rest of the ride, thinking about how long your wife would need to figure out that you had carelessly left the apartment. The news were probably already on some fanpages.

After the driver had dropped you off at your apartment complex, you looked on your phone.

10 pm

Irene was probably not home yet. At least you hoped so. When you opened the door to your apartment, you were proven to be right. No one was home.

Having enough excitement for the day, you quickly changed into your pajamas and went to bed. You couldn’t stop your brain from working though. Curiosity seized you and you wanted to know whether you had made the news yet. You opened Twitter, starting to scroll through your wife’s tags and you didn’t have to search long until you actually could find pictures of you.

Some posts were nice. People complimented your style or were happy to see that you were still down-to-earth, despite dating one of the most famous idols in Kpop. Some posts, however, weren’t that nice and you knew that Irene would be very upset by them.

Hopefully she would never see them. Especially one video was alarming. You hadn’t even realized it in the heat of the moment, but some of the fans had actually shoved you in the turmoil. If your wife saw that, she would probably snap. She was really overprotective. You just had to hope that she would be too busy to check her phone the next days.

Your hopes were crushed though, when you could suddenly hear the front door of your apartment slam. Someone wasn’t in a good mood. Quickly you put your phone on the nightstand before grabbing a book and pretending to be immersed in it. No ten seconds later, the door to the bedroom opened and your clearly upset wife was staring at you.

“Can you explain to me what that is?”

She asked sternly while walking closer to you with her phone in her hand.

The screen showed -of course- the worst video of all and you gulped.

“That’s a really flattering angle, don’t you think?”

You tried to lighten the mood, but Irene only seemed to be even more angered by your statement.

“This situation is not funny, Y/N. Do you know what could have happened? Do you see how they are pushing you? How often have I told you, not to go strolling around the city?”

You felt like a kid being scolded by their mother. And you couldn’t even defend yourself this time.

“That’s it. You’re not going to leave the apartment from now beside for work until I figure out a way to protect you.”

Irene stated determined, but you looked at her with wide eyes.

“Excuse me?”

You asked perplexed, but Irene only crossed her arms.

“What? You won’t listen to me. And I won’t just watch how some sasaengs insult and hurt you.”

Her intentions were good, but you could still feel anger starting to bubble inside of you.

“Irene, I’m an adult. I think, I can look after myself.”

You responded but your wife only scoffed.

“I could see that today.”

She said cynically, making you even angrier. You wouldn’t let her treat you like some child.

“What do you expect me to do? Stay in the apartment all day by myself, while my wife is out there enjoying herself?”

You spat out, suddenly feeling all the piled-up frustration rising to the surface.

Irene’s expression changed in a matter of seconds. Her annoyance faded and was replaced by hurt instead.

“Do you think I want to be away all the time?”

The bewilderment in her voice was unmistakable, but you had reached a point beyond reason now. First, you were left alone all the time and now she wanted to restrict your independence?

“You sure don’t look like someone making an effort to change the situation.”

You scoffed, causing Irene to look at you with her mouth half-open in disbelief.

“I-I think we should continue this conversation tomorrow when everyone has cooled down a bit.”

She stuttered in a desperate attempt to prevent this fight from escalating even more.

But you didn’t want her to be rational right now. You wanted to hear from her that she wouldn’t leave you alone anymore. Irene, however, just kept standing there, staring at you wordlessly.

Disappointed, you huffed before leaping to your feet and grabbing your pillow and blanket.

“What are you doing?”

Irene asked perplexed but you just stormed past her.

“I can’t stand seeing you anymore.”

You yelled over your shoulder before angrily plopping down on the couch.

With your arms crossed and a pout on your lips, you laid down, trying to fall asleep, although you knew that you would need at least an hour to stop your mind from racing.

--

Irene sighted as she got into the empty bed. She knew that it had been irrational to forbid you to leave the apartment. You weren’t her property after all. But she didn’t have the capacity to worry about you these days. Red Velvet was preparing for their tour while recording new songs. There were just so many things in her head right now. She needed to be able to trust you that you didn’t get yourself in any trouble.

Nevertheless, she needed to apologize tomorrow. It hadn’t been right to snap at you like that. Her plan was to make you breakfast and talk calmly about a solution to this mess. But after she had groggily turned off her alarm clock the next morning after having only slept a maximum of two hours due to the lack of warmth next to her, she found the living room empty.

“Y/N?”

She called your name, but no one answered.

Your shoes were gone too. You must have already left for work. Which was unusual, because you normally always left after her. Irene could feel a headache starting in her temples and sat down at the kitchen table to eat some breakfast, hoping that this would make her feel better. Although she knew too well that she could only feel better after talking to you.

Therefore, the rest of the day was a pain for her. She couldn’t concentrate and was annoyed by her members without a reason. Everyone was glad when the producer decided to let them go early, because he saw no point in working any longer as nothing productive was the outcome anyways.

“I’m sorry girls. But I need to get home to Y/N.”

Irene quickly excused herself, before letting the driver bring her to your apartment. She was thinking about buying you chocolate or some other apologetic gift on the way but decided against it in the end. She was sorry, but she also felt that she was right to some extent.

Nevertheless, she thought that she could soften your heart, because today would actually be the first time in weeks that she came home before 8 pm. Irene smiled lightly to herself when she imagined how you would try to be mad at her, but couldn’t contain your happiness when you saw her walking through the door. But Irene’s plan was defeated when she entered the apartment and heard another women’s laugh.

Taken aback she silently made her way to the origin of the sound and found you sitting in the living room with someone she didn’t know. You were grinning widely, and the woman held her belly while laughing, but as soon as you saw her, your expression turned to stone. The woman followed your stern gaze and her eyes eventually landed on Irene.

She looked at you questioningly and you cleared your throat.

“Yuri that’s my wife Irene. Irene that’s my colleague Yuri.”

You shortly introduced the two women that were looking at each other curiously.

“Your wife?”

Yuri asked a little confused and Irene felt irritation starting to bubble inside of her.

“Yeah, you know that I’m married.”

You chuckled while looking at her questioningly.

“Oh yeah, of course. I just though the two of you had split up, because you kinda never talk about her anymore. And you always whine about how much you hate to be alone.”

Your gaze snapped up at Irene and you looked really uncomfortable. Realizing that she had grazed a touchy subject, Yuri quickly shut her mouth and coughed awkwardly.

“Um... I just remember that I have a dinner engagement.”

She stammered, but you quickly leaped to your feet when you saw that she wanted to leave.

“You don’t have to go, Yuri.”

You said apologetically, but Irene saw that a little differently.

“I’m sorry, but I think you have to.”

She said while crossing her arms and Yuri quickly nodded before walking to the exit.

You followed her to send her off but returned a few minutes later with a stern expression.

“I’m sorry. Aren’t I no longer allowed to have friends over as well?”

Your voice was quivering in anger, but Irene didn’t react to your statement. She didn’t want to fight. Yuri’s comment from earlier was still playing in her head on a loop and Irene’s heart ached every time, she thought about how you must have felt all this time.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Irene sighted while sitting down on the couch and massaging her temples.

You stayed quiet for a while, but then she could hear you sitting down on the armchair across from her.

“For what exactly, Irene? Kicking my friend out of our apartment, forbidding me to leave the house or neglecting our relationship?”

Your words felt like a slap in her face and Irene didn’t dare to look at you.

“For everything. But I’m just trying to make everything right.”

Irene almost whispered, causing you to sigh.

“I know you do. But maybe there is no way to make this right.”

You responded and after hearing your tone, Irene’s eyes snapped up.

“What do you mean?”

She asked, feeling panic rising inside of her.

“You’re not a bad person, Irene. I know that you love me, and I love you. But maybe that’s not enough. How can we call this a marriage? I barely even see you. Something must be missing.”

You explained, causing Irene’s breath to hitch in her throat.

“No, no, no. There’s nothing missing. What are you talking about? Y/N, what are you trying to say?”

Tears started to fill her eyes, but you remained silent.

“Y/N...”

She breathed, but you suddenly got to your feet.

“I need to think. Please don’t follow me.”

You said coldly, while already making your way to the door.

Irene quickly stood up, but you continued to walk away from her.

Like glued to the spot, she kept watching you disappear although she wanted to cling to you in order to hold you back. Something told her that you wouldn’t be coming back in the next hours.

Unfortunately, her gut had been telling the truth. It was already past midnight when Irene decided to go to bed although you hadn’t returned yet. Who knew if you would be coming home tonight at all? She had been drifting in and out of sleep for quite some time till she finally heard your key turn in the lock. In a matter of seconds, she was wide awake.

She decided not to move an inch though, because she was afraid that you wouldn’t come to bed if you knew that she was awake. She could hear you getting ready in the bathroom before the bed lightly dipped, indicating that you had crawled into bed next to her. A sigh left her lips and she sat up halfway to be able to look at you. You were laying on your back and staring at the ceiling.

“Don’t give up on us, Y/N. We haven’t even really started our life together yet. We just have to make it through this, then we can do whatever we want in a few years.”

Irene begged you, but you didn’t look at her and remained silent.

“Please, Y/N. Give us a last chance.”

A sob almost escaped her lips, but she quickly pressed her lips together, not wanting to paint out the worst scenario yet.

Seconds passed that felt like hours, but eventually you sighted.

“Fine. I’m cooking tonight. 7 pm, Irene. If you’re not there, I’ll know what this relationship means to you.”

Irene gulped thickly because of the seriousness of your words, but at the same time she wanted to squeal in joy.

“I’m going to be there. I promise.”

She answered while her heart pounded like crazy. She couldn’t mess up today.

You turned your back to her, and Irene had to hold back the urge to scoot closer to you and hug you from behind. It was too early now, she had to prove her love first. But soon she could finally hold you in her arms again.

Although there weren’t a lot of hours left until Irene had to get up for work again, she final fell into a deep slumber, knowing that you were laying next to her. She only woke up when the annoying sound of her alarm clock made her jolt awake. Immediately she turned it off and looked to her side to make sure whether you were still there.

You were now facing her, but your eyes were still closed while your chest fell and rose in a steady rhythm. Irene had always loved waking up before you to be able to watch you sleep for a while. You looked so peaceful and content; not at all like someone who had been hurt by his wife so much that they were considering a divorce. Softly Irene ran her fingers through your hair, making sure not to wake you up. She couldn’t give up on you. Not if it meant to never be able to wake up next to you ever again. Irene kissed your forehead swiftly before swinging her legs out of bed and getting ready for her day.

During her schedule, Irene took a glance on her phone at least four times an hour. She was anxious that she would miss your date. The minutes dragged on although Red Velvet had one appointment after the other. With every second her worries began to increase.

Her schedule was supposed to end at 6 pm toady, but because some appointments didn’t end on time, everything was shifted back. It was already 5 pm and there were still two meetings left. Nervously, Irene pushed the conversations forward, hoping that she could still end her schedule on time. But things didn’t work like they were supposed to. Red Velvet was in the studio, recording a song and the producer just wasn’t satisfied with anything the girls recorded. He made them sing their parts over and over again.

6.15 pm

Irene almost let her phone fall in shock when she checked for the time after the producer had finally left the studio. She still had to drive home.

“Ok, girls. One more meeting, then we’re done for the day.”

Her manager smiled encouragingly, and Irene looked back and forth from her phone to her manager.

One more meeting? She could never make it on time if she stayed a minute longer at the company. But she also had responsibilities as a leader. Her members were counting on her, as was her company.

Irene needed to make a decision. What was more important? Her career or you?

“No, I’m leaving. Now.”

She suddenly blurted out, making all the people in the room look at her with wide eyes. There had never been a day that she had cancelled a meeting. But she knew that this was the right decision.

Proudly Irene grabbed her jacket and bowed to the staff and her members before turning on her heel to leave the room. She would always choose you. Above everything.

After a long time, her heart felt a lot lighter as she was getting into the car. Normally, she had a guilty conscious for being late. But today, she was on time and was looking forward to a nice dinner with you. A smile was playing on her lips while she typed a message for you to let you know that she was on her way home.

Just when she was about to send it, however, the car came to a halt.

“Why are we stopping?”

Irene asked perplexed and the driver looked at her apologetically through the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry, Miss. But we’re stuck in traffic.”

He gestured to the front and Irene gasped in shock. There were hundreds of cars blocking the road.

“No, this can’t be.”

She muttered desperately while checking the time once again.

6.30 pm

“Can’t you take another route?”

Irene asked although she knew on her own that there was no other way.

Her driver truly seemed to be sorry as he shook his head with a sad look in his eyes.

Why did the universe hate her so much? Irene buried her face in her hands, praying to whoever was out there to magically make the cars in front of her disappear. But 20 minutes later, they were still pretty much standing on the same spot.

“When will we be home?”

Irene hoped that her driver could give her a good message, but his silent sigh told a different story.

“30 minutes if we’re lucky.”

He responded and Irene closed her eyes in disbelief.

Shakily she grabbed her phone and chose your contact to call you. She pressed her phone to her ear in hopes to be able to make her hear your voice instead of the ringing sound. But after a while, your voicemail ended the call. Over and over again, Irene dialed your number, but you just didn’t pick up.

7.01 pm

By now their car had finally left the blocked road, but Irene had also lost her nerves. Your warning had been clear. If she would be late, you would give up on your relationship. Nervously she tapped her foot waiting for the car to finally reach its destination. She was almost home, only one more street. Suddenly, however, the car stopped again.

“Why are we stopping again?”

She almost yelled a little exasperated but could see on her own that they were stuck in traffic again. Irene was fed up though. Nothing else would get in the way between her and you.

“Thanks for the ride. I’m walking the rest of the way.”

She mumbled while already opening the door and exiting the car. Her driver said something to her, but Irene couldn’t care less. It was all or nothing now. Life or death; at least figuratively.

Not caring about all the people throwing confused looks at her, Irene ran to your apartment where she impatiently pushed the button for the elevator. Her anxiety had filled her whole body though, so she was too impatient to wait till the elevator finally arrived. Quickly she swung open the door to the staircase and sprinted up to the right floor. When she finally reached the door to your apartment, Irene was completely out of breath, but she didn’t give herself the time to recover.

Without wasting another second, she unlocked the door and headed straight to the kitchen. But it was empty. Her heart was already pounding in her chest from the running, but now it was close to jumping out of her chest. Maybe you were in the bedroom. With rushed steps, Irene searched the rest of the apartment, but you were nowhere to be found. Desperate, she ran back to the kitchen, hoping that you had somehow appeared in the meantime. But all she could find was her favorite dish and a beautifully set table.

Tears started to form in Irene’s eyes, and she grabbed her hair in despair. She started to turn in circles, because she didn’t know what to do now, when another thing suddenly caught her attention. Irene stopped dead in track, staring at the counter.

“No, no, no. Please don’t.”

She mumbled while stumbling to the counter.

Shakily she picked up the item that had caught her attention. It was your wedding ring. There was nothing that could hold back Irene’s tears from falling now. She clasped the ring tightly and pressed it against her chest as loud sobs escaped her mouth.

“Y/N...”

She breathed, hoping that you would appear behind her out of thing air and wrap your arms around her.

You couldn’t, however, because you were gone.

“But not without a fight, Y/N. I won’t let you go that easily.”

Irene suddenly mumbled to herself when she realized that she had nothing to lose now. She had to try everything.

With the determination of winning you back in her heart, she turned on her heel and ran back the way that she had just walked a few minutes ago. This time she opted for the elevator though and took it to the underground garage. Of course, it was highly unlikely that you hadn’t left the building already, but Irene just had to try. Where else would she start searching for you?

Already feeling her lungs rebelling against the constant exertion, Irene ran one last time to get to your parking spot. After she had rounded the corner, she could see your car still standing there while the motor was running. Although her legs already felt like jelly, she quickened her steps another time.

“Y/N!!”

Irene yelled, not knowing what for, but her desperation, fear and sadness forbade her to think clearly.

When she reached the car, she saw you sitting motionlessly in the driver’s seat while tears streamed down your face. Desperately Irene banged against the car window.

“Don’t leave me, Y/N. I beg you.”

She cried out and your sobbing increased.

Irene tried to open the door, but the car was locked, and she rested her head against the glass in defeat.

“Please. Let me explain. I wanted to be here on time. I know this sounds like an excuse, but I was really stuck in traffic. Let us talk, Y/N. Please.”

She begged and you finally moved. You reached out to push the button that unlocked the doors but stopped shortly before touching it. Your eyes met hers and Irene looked longingly at you. You were torn. She could see it in your eyes. But the fact that you were still here also gave Irene hope. Apparently, you hadn’t completely given up on her. There was still something that was holding you back.

“Please, Y/N.”

She asked another time, causing you to finally press the button.

Quickly Irene ripped the door open before you would change your mind.

“Jagi, I’m so sorry. I swear that I was stuck in traffic. I might be a terrible wife, but I’m not a liar. I wanted to be here. I would never give up on our marriage. I love you, jagi. Please come back to the apartment.”

Your tears were still dripping down your chin and Irene automatically reached out to wipe them away.

“Let’s have dinner. And we can watch a movie afterwards. You can pick. Or you can go to the bedroom and I’ll sleep on the couch if you don’t want to see me. Just please don’t leave.”

Irene was cupping your face by now and her tears were leaving her eyes at the same pace as yours.

“Why did you have to be late?”

You suddenly sobbed and Irene couldn’t hold back her urge to pull you against her body. She wrapped her arms around your body and ran her hand in circles on your back in an attempt to calm you down.

“I know that I’m stupid. But I love you. I will never leave you. I promise.”

Irene tried to comfort you with her words while you were clinging to her body.

The two of you kept standing there in this position until both of you had finally calmed down.

“Did you really wanted to be here on time?”

You asked eventually with a shaky voice and Irene immediately nodded.

“Of course! There is nothing more precious to me on this earth than our marriage. I want to be able to call me your wife till my last day.”

She stated truthfully and you looked at her contemplatively.

“W-what about you?”

Irene stammered nervously, not knowing if she wanted to hear your answer.

“I also want to be able to call you my wife till my last day.”

Your stern face finally softened, and Irene instantly pulled you closer again.

“Please come home with me then. We can work this out. I can talk with my managers to rearrange my schedule and we can go on vacation after the tour. Whatever you want.”

She listed all the possibilities that came to her mind to solve this problem, hoping that she could convince you to follow her upstairs.

“We’ll see about the last part. But I would love to go home now.”

You smiled and Irene squeezed you a last time before helping you out of the car.

Together, the two of you took the elevator back to your apartment where you went into the kitchen to finally have the dinner that you had planned. But as soon as Irene had entered the room, she stopped abruptly, staring at the ring on the counter. You followed her gaze and started to nervously fidget with your fingers.

Hesitantly, Irene walked up to the counter to pick up the ring. Insecurely she shifted it in her hands, not knowing whether you were ready to fully commit to this marriage already. But when you held out your hand like the day of your wedding, a wide smile formed on Irene’s lips and she quickly stepped forward to put it on your finger.

Gently she stroked the metal band on the only place it was supposed to be before pressing her lips on it. You looked at her with a soft smile on your lips, causing Irene’s heart to flutter.

Together you heated the food again, before sitting down at the dinner table to have your long-awaited date. You started some innocuous chatter, creating a light atmosphere that didn’t permit the anguish from before to shine through. Irene looked at you while her heart felt full and happy. Noticing that you were being observed, you chuckled before reaching over the table to interlace your fingers and gently stroking the back of her hand.

8:24 pm

Everything was as it was supposed to be.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Teen!Chucky /Charles Lee Ray x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Night Time Air 

Notes:

·         Y/B/F: Your best friend

·         This was inspired by Season 5 Pretty Little Liars when Caleb and Alison are rocky and Alison tries to tell Hanna not to be with him, and she goes ahead and gets back together with him. 

·         Told you I would overuse this gif. 

·         I should be doing requestssssss

Plot: 

Chucky is the boy at your school, that is well known for all the bad things he has done. He has no respect for anyone except… maybe you… and he is unpredictable, which is exactly why your friend, your bitchy, not-really-your-friend, frenemy-that-you-only-spend-any-of-your-time-with-because-your-real-friends-like-her tries to order you not to hang out with him.

You don’t take it well.

Warnings: Language maybe? 

~~~

It takes a few seconds before I can clear my enough, and stop myself from jumping to the conclusion of what she’s trying to tell me. Demand of me. “What?”

“You shouldn’t hang out with him anymore. I mean, I know he’s pretty and everything,” With a roll of her eyeshadow heavy eyes, she tries to infer to me, that my friendship with Chucky is so skin deep. Again, I bite my tongue and stop myself from saying anything, but oh, are there things coming to mind that I wish I would say. “But he’s never been any good, since kindergarten. I’m just looking out for you, you know. You know that I love you.” Oh, sure.

My blood boils at her words, and the fake way she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows, the  touch she manages to land on my arm before I flinch away that makes me feel disgusting. She has to be aware that we are not friends, and there is no one else around so where does she get off saying this stuff to me. Demanding something, from me like she’s got any authority. “Maybe you didn’t sense my complete disbelief the first time through your hairspray; I understand chemicals can interfere with alien sensory technology. So, let me say it again. What?”

“Woho,” She laughs, but I see under the thin, unimpressive veil of counterfeit that completes her look of total bitch, that she was not expecting a snap back like that. “Wow, Y/N. No need to get salty… “

Something about the night air has made me confident tonight, for sure. Because at school, there’s no way I’d say these things to her. I’m glad I came out tonight! “I don’t know where you think you get the authority to tell me what to do, but you’re mistaken.” Nervously, I glance past her into Y/B/F’s house to see if they were looking at us, because the last thing I need is drama with the others after this, and then stonily back at Jane. “Tell the others whatever, I’ll set it straight tomorrow. I gotta go, I happen to know where Chucky’ll be tonight.”

She narrows her eyes and looks miffed, but I’m already turning around, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket and walking off down the street. God, I’m glad I said that. Its been dying to come out since I realised I didn’t like her in the first place- it might stir some trouble in our group, but its better she knows I don’t like her then to let her keep thinking she any control in my life. Besides, I’d kinda… I’d much rather go see Chucky then stay in and play forced Monopoly with her for the rest of the night, and wake up in the morning with moustache drawn on my face.

When I get to my destination, I don’t see him but I don’t get to wonder if he just hasn’t come to the playground tonight like he brags he does every night -like some edge master on the big screen,- because he calls my name and I turn around to see him walking over from another street. “What are you doing here?” He stops in front of me on the woodchips and stuffs his hands in his trench coat pockets, grinning down at me in a way that gives me the strangest feeling that he’s glad I’m here. “Thought you’d be… Ahhh, I dunno, enjoying skimpy girl sleepover activities? See, I listen to you. Unless I got the day wrong?” I wish we could move somewhere else, maybe walk around, but he’s just standing and looking at me with his grin like I’m a weeping angel.

Instead of staying there and talking about my run in with Jane, although I’m sure he’d love to hear about it -he doesn’t like her either. One of the many things we talk about when we’re together,- , I turn and head for the swing. “Skimpy girl sleepover activities? Sounds like you put some thought into that!” I tease, sitting in a swing and pushing off. There’s something very free, about playing on a playground when its dark, and no on else is around. I suddenly get why its such a popular teenage stereotype. Not too far out of my comfort zone like most adult things that I want to do or am being pushed to try, but still new.

He laughs. “Would’ve come by and visited if I knew where your girl friend lived.” Turning my head, I watch Chucky come around and get in the other swing, but not push off.

“You would’ve been disappointed. We had intensive plans to snuggle up in our skivvy’s and raincoats and watch Singin’ In The Rain. But I would’ve made room for you!” Which is true. I would. I definitely would. I’d love to ‘accidentally’ fall over and snuggle with him. Totally would. Any day. Yes.

Watching him grin to himself at my dumb joke gives me little tummy squirms, so I take a deep breath as I swing and look away. “Oh well. Glad I get you, tonight. They always seem to win your time.”

“They’re my best friends… “I say, falling backwards and feeling my hair fly after me, on either side of my face. Then turn and grin at Chucky, curiously. “You’ve never expressed any desire to hang with me more, before.”

“Well its not like I have many friends apart from you… “He trails off, but his face doesn’t reveal any sadness or forlorn desire to change that. I know, for a fact, that he doesn’t like anyone else at our school. He has nicknames for them all! And none flattering. He turns to me sharply, causing my heart to seize in my chest. Oh my god. “Custody agreements, how would I go about winning weekends with you?”

Rolling my eyes, I look away and keeping swinging, distracting myself from him. “Mm, payment’s a bit dear,” I mutter, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough to be a mutter to myself. I wanted to reply, but I don’t want him to hear the rest of that quip. Which is ‘Its you have to kiss me’.

Seems the night air isn’t just making me confidently mean, tonight…

“I bet… “He says back, not quite to me and under his breath, the same as how I said it. Then he gets up from the swing and looks around, shifty eyed. “Let’s walk around a bit.”

He looks bored, so I slow down the swing and pop off, not noticing he moved right in front of me until I’ve hopped right into him. “Nice going, pal! Smart move!” I exclaim sarcastically, and push out of his arms and away from his face, which is grinning cheekily and laughing.

“Dunno what you’re complaining for, I’m not the only one who got to second base just then! Wanna try for first?”

“You’re very funny.” I say, forcing an irritated tone through my smiling face. Its times like these, when I thank having a crush on such a loudmouth and tease. “As if.”  

“Yeahh, right. Whatever, come on.” He starts walking, scooping me up on the way, walking with his arm over my shoulders… like friends. Friends. This is friendly, I remind myself quickly. These moments, when he touches me and acts like we’re a couple, are when I curse having a crush on such a loudmouth and tease. We walk around the park, not leaving the gleam of the streetlights, but leaving the mulch of the playground for the grass surrounding it. After a while of conversation about school, and other kids in our class -never touching his father or mine, this night time playground acting as sanctuary, - , we hit a lull in the conversation, and I watch our feet wading through the luscious grass, due to excessive levels of rain recently. My fingers feel like icey poles. He hasn’t removed his arm from me the entire time we’ve been walking, though, so at least the rest of me is warm. “So, what happened to your sleepover anyway. Cancelled or did you blow them off?”

“Uh… I blew it off.” For you. Of course, I don’t utter the last words. Too much of a chicken shit to finish the deal, even feeling the night air on my cheeks.

“There’s my bad girl.”

“Hah,” Thank god, its too cold for my cheeks to heat up. I glance at his face, and do a double take. He’s waiting for the rest of the story! Uhhhhh… “Um, well, we… Jane said something annoying, you know.” Flashing him an awkward half-smile, I see he’s still waiting for the kicker and look away again, picking up his other hand and lacing my fingers through his, to distract me. “Here, warm my fingers up, they’re icey.” As his fingers willingly wrap around mine, I don’t have to glance to feel his look edging me on for the rest of the story. I sigh. “Well, she said something dumb about not wanting me to hang out with a certain bad boy loner type with yucky hair, and I didn’t feel like sticking around.”

“I’m gonna ignore the part about my great hair for the moment, because I’m too chuffed that you stuck up for me… “Remarkably, somehow, his voice is grinning, as he slows us immediately too a stop and moves to stand in front of me, loosening his arm around me just enough to do so, but not letting go so I’m kind of… well, I’m enveloped in him. I can smell his familiar shampoo and aftershave, and feel weirdly, wonderfully small in front of him, who is taller. Which is usually not too noticeably because he isn’t magnificently tall, but he is… 3 to 5 inches taller than me? And because we’re so close, you can tell.

Embarrassingly, I just stand there silently as he grins, and brings our linked hands up to his mouth, to tap a kiss to mine. What? What? WhAT! This is not… this cannot just be friendly, can it? I glance away from his blue-blue eyes, so I can gather my voice back. “Not a big deal.”

“Maybe not, but I like it.”

With nothing else to use my voice for, because I can’t think of anything else to say, I look back up at his, our hands still close to his mouth a grin on his lips. There, I decide to do something. I decide to make or break our friendships, to see what happens, to do something I want to try.

I decide to kiss him.

I tilt my head, and pull down our hands and close my eyes, not allowing for any second thoughts before I get up on my toes and hopefully touch his mouth with mine. I remember wondering what happens if I actually get his chin or his nose, before my lips connect with his and everything goes starry.

Because immediately like he was prepared for it, like that, he kisses back. Pulling me in comfortably with his arm and letting go of my hand so he can cup the side of my neck, his thumb resting on my jaw. I use my new freedom to bunch his coat in my fist, and bring him warmer to me. Not that it could get much warmer for me, with his mouth laying a long, soft kiss to me.

This is definitely the ideal outcome to my decision.  

“Took way too long for you to do that, sweetheart.” Is the first thing he says post-first-kiss, husky and quietly, against my lips as he looks from them to my eyes which is way too attractive a power for a teenage boy to have if you ask me, before kissing me again, this time deeper and with his tongue. All I can do is stand there and try my best to reciprocate the sheer, hot passion that somehow he’s able to convey to me without words, despite this being my first kiss, to the best of my mediocre abilities.

“I… didn’t know you were waiting for it,” I say, when he seems done for more then 2 seconds. A flash of a smile crosses his face, rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t obvious enough for you??”

“No!”

“I said that I’m glad I get you tonight!”

“That’s code for ‘Kiss me’???”

“Yes!”

“Well, I’ll remember that now!”

He sighs in exasperation while smiling, which is good because I’m grinning too. “Do you wanna just make out some more?”

“Oh, yes, we shall. Good idea.”

[kindofcashton]

𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕  •  chapter 16  (Calum Hood AU)

MY LIFE WAS a never-ending paradise.  For the first time in months, I woke up with a smile on my face that lasted until I fell asleep again that night.  Never had I experienced such tranquility, such persistent joy as I felt now.  It was nearly impossible to worry about anything, feel sad about anything.  Not when he was next to me, near me, with me.  Calum and I spent nearly every night together, our hands perpetually entangled, our bodies constantly connected.  We woke up together, went to bed together, spent the day dreaming about one another.  Being away from him, even for something I enjoyed like work or shopping with Hannah, became a nuisance.  I spent all my time thinking about him and the next time we could be together.

But the thing is, we weren’t together.  There was no label slapped onto whatever relationship we’d formed.  I didn’t consider him my boyfriend, and I certainly wasn’t his girlfriend.  We spent the nights together, and then when daylight came we were elusive lovers, dancing around each other so as not to alert the others.  Hannah I had told, of course.  She knew every detail of my affair with Calum, and squealed over how “romantic” it was.  I firmly told her there was nothing romantic or emotional about it; we were merely two adults sleeping together and having fun.

As for the guys, I’m sure they’d caught on to something.  Seeing me emerge from Calum’s room or him from mine was definitely a dead giveaway.  But when we were downstairs, Calum and I rarely interacted beyond hastened smiles and loaded glances.  Occasionally his hand would grace mine in the kitchen, reminding me of where his fingers had been the night before.  Just a single look from him sparked butterflies like I’d never known before, and I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning.

When we were really at our best was when we slept together.  The chemistry our bodies shared was unparalleled, and I’d never experienced such passion with anyone before.  Calum knew my body like he’d spent his whole life mapping it out, knowing all my favorite places and secret spots.  I knew every curve of his back, every stretch of skin and cluster of moles.  We explored each other until nothing was foreign territory, every part of ourselves bared for the other to glimpse.  But we didn’t grow tired of each other; every night was a new discovery, the excitement never waning.  If I could, I’d spend the rest of my life in bed next to him, our bodies naked and pressing together.

Neither of us let emotions complicate things.  Despite my bold display of breaking up with Nick for him, I knew that was no indication of a deeper relationship with Calum.  We were barely even friends, as we didn’t hang out together outside of the bedroom.  And as for exclusivity, there wasn’t really any.  If a guy flirted with me at work, I flirted back.  I’m sure Calum did the same when he disappeared during the day.  For me, I knew I’d never consider sleeping with anyone else, but just the idea of having the option was comforting; exclusivity was suffocating, and the last thing I wanted was to ruin the carefree fun Calum and I were having.

His normally brooding, mean personality actually turned out to be different than I thought.  Calum’s sense of humor was dark, not mean.  He wasn’t brooding, just thinking hard.  Now I enjoyed his snarky remarks, the way he’d tease me with a smirk.  Things that used to infuriate me now fired me up, and I giggled at his scowls.  I hoped he felt the same about me, that I wasn’t annoying or stubborn but dedicated and organized.  Seeing a new perspective of him was refreshing, and I looked at him with hungry new eyes.  I couldn’t keep a smile off my face when I was with him, and I saw his usual smirk twist into a crooked grin.

One morning, I stood up out of bed a little earlier than normal.  After a long night in my room leaving us both blissfully exhausted, I wanted nothing more than to sleep all day, but I had something important to do.  I’d been in touch with an advisor at the local community college, and today we’d be meeting to discuss my possible enrollment.  I felt secure enough at the cafe to start planning to go back to school, and I was both nervous and thrilled about the upcoming discussion.  I hoped it would be seamless, an easy process that wouldn’t strain my nerves or my wallet.  Things were going so good lately, I would hate for something to ruin it.

Calum groaned from the bed, and naturally my lips spread into a smile.  I was fishing through my closet, wearing only panties and his tee shirt that I’d hastily put on to cover up.  It smelled like him, and I almost wished I could wear it to the meeting for good luck and comfort.  

“What’re you doing?” he asked, voice gruff from sleep.  I glanced back and saw his ruffled hair and tired eyes.  He looked about ready to fall back to sleep, but when he looked over at me his eyebrows raised approvingly.  Clearly me in his shirt had pleasantly surprised him.

“I have an interview,” I explained, turning back to find the right clothes.  I wanted to look professional and mature, but not too stuffy.  After all, this was a community college, and my transcript spoke for itself.  I opted for a white skirt and matching blazer, then pulled a black turtleneck to wear underneath.  This was probably my nicest outfit, and I chewed my lip contemplating which heels to wear.

“Where at?”  Calum yawned and stretched his long arms, chest bare as the blankets fell around his waist.  I began to undress, pulling his shirt over my head so I could put on a bra.

“The community college,” I answered, but he seemed too distracted by my body to care.  I rolled my eyes as I hooked the bra clasp, shimmying into the skirt and fighting with the zipper.  Calum whistled as I stood only in the skirt and my bra, leaning on his forearm with a smirk.

“You expect me to let you leave looking like that?”  His suggestive tone made me flush, and I pulled the turtleneck over my head with a shy smile.

“I’m actually really nervous,” I admitted, fiddling with my hair and wondering how much makeup I’d need to cover the dark circles under my eyes.  Calum leaned back onto the disarrayed pillows that we’d strewn about during last night’s antics.

“You have no reason to worry, you’re like the smartest, most collegey person I’ve ever met.”  Although his eyes were closed and his tone was breezy, I took his words to heart.  It touched me that he saw me so highly, and for a second I wondered if this is what it felt like to have him as my boyfriend.  Someone supportive who helped me achieve my dreams, someone to come home to after a long day to unwind and just be with.

Shaking my head, I forced these thoughts out of my head.  Calum was not my boyfriend, and I didn’t want him to be.  He was just saying what I wanted to hear, and his voice was breezy because he didn’t really care.  Swiping on some mascara and enough concealer to brighten my complexion, I exhaled deeply.  You’ve got this.

Not wanting to seem clingy or overly invested, I simply stepped into my black heels and grabbed my bag, giving Calum a distracted goodbye before leaving him behind.  As I descended the stairs I missed him already, yearning for his touch and his gaze.   

Hannah caught me before I left, piece of toast in her hand as she hugged me, careful not to get crumbs on my crisp blazer.  

“You’re gonna kill it, Scar,” she declared.  “Seriously, this college is gonna be begging just to have you enroll.”

I nodded, letting her words give me some encouragement.  “I hope so.  I hope I’m not a desperate, fumbling mess.”

She straightened my blazer and flattened my hair with a smile.  “You don’t look like a mess from the outside.”  I gave her a grateful hug before hurrying out the door, making sure to get to the bus stop on time.  I’d contemplated asking Calum to drive me, since it was easier, but that approached boyfriend territory.  So instead, I took a seat on the crowded public bus and braced myself for the upcoming meeting.

The campus was smaller than my other school, but that was to be expected.  The groundskeepers clearly did their best trying to spruce up the boring landscape with sculpted bushes and brick paths.  The buildings were plain but architectural, with lots of windows and glass roofs.  For such a small, cramped college it could have been a lot worse.  I felt slightly embarrassed to be downgrading so much from the fancy university I’d previously attended, but then I reminded myself that a degree was a degree.

I found the building I was meant to be in and located the advisor’s office rather quickly.  A plump, kind-faced secretary told me Ms. Price would be with me in a few minutes, and I took a seat by a big window.  Some students were milling about below, and I imagined myself here.  Just the prospect of getting back to school was exciting, no matter where I went.  

Five minutes passed by in a flash, and then I was seated in front of Ms. Price herself, crossing my legs to fight off my nerves.  She was a middle-aged woman with short, wispy red hair and leathery skin.  I watched as her eyes scanned my records, glancing over the notes about my parents’ death and my subsequent bankruptcy, but all this information did was make her brows lift slightly.

Her unreadable expression deterred me, and for a second I panicked that she was going to reject me.  But then she snapped the file closed and laced her fingers together, thin lipstick-rimmed lips tilting into a polite smile.

“Well Miss Mercer, your transcript speaks for itself.”  I smiled slightly as she confirmed my earlier estimate.  “Your grades are immaculate, and I’m surprised you’re such a put-together young woman after everything you’ve been through.”

I smiled graciously.  “School was my motivation through it all, really.  I just want to get my life back on track, and that means finishing my degree.”

Ms. Price nodded.  “A wise decision.  An education will do you well later in life.  I assume you have a career path laid out for yourself?”

“Yes, I’d like to become a social worker.  My degree is in psychology, but I have a focus in counseling.”  Bringing up my future goals reminded me how desperately I wanted to achieve them.  Even though my fling with Calum was fun, I also wanted my professional life to start as soon as possible so I could settle down.  

Sifting through a few papers and peering over her glasses, Ms. Price was quiet for a moment.  I took her long pauses to just be results of her no-nonsense, blatant disposition.  She wasn’t going to shower me in praise, which was fine.  All I needed was confirmation of my enrollment.

Finally, she said, “You have your finances in order?  Community college is less expensive, but still an expense all the same.”

I nodded.  “Yes, I have a steady job that should help me pay for it.”  I could even afford to move out with Hannah, if I wanted to, but that was still a huge proposition that I was not all that inclined to take. 

Ms. Price gave a final nod of her head, and set down the papers in her hand.  “Well then, Miss Mercer, I don’t see why we can’t admit you for the next semester.”

Pure jubilation flooded through me, and I tried to keep my wild grin contained and professional.  Reaching out to shake her hand, I thanked Ms. Price profusely.  “This means the world to me, ma’am, truly.  I won’t let you or the college down.”

My exuberance must have cracked her resolve a little, because she gave me an amused expression.  “I’m quite sure of it, dear.”

It was all I could do not to skip out of the office.  I felt on top of the world, and I whipped my phone out to spread the good news.  For a second my finger hovered over Calum’s number, and I wished I could call him up to gush about my success.  But then I kept scrolling and called Hannah instead.  She picked up instantly and I practically screamed the news at her, causing her to scream herself.  I wandered through campus with a stupid smile on my face, rushing my words as I tried to articulate my excitement.

“We have to celebrate tonight,” I insisted.  “After my shift, we should do something.”

“Totally,” Hannah confirmed.  “I’ll rally the troops.”

I hung up and sighed, thinking about how I would celebrate with Calum specifically.  I let the stupid grin shine on my face as I stared up at the bright sky.  Things were better than good right now; they were damn near perfect.

- - - - -

Roger gave me the biggest hug I’d ever received when I told him about getting into community college, and even Mack emerged from the back room to congratulate me.  He jokingly warned me not to prioritize school work over my work here, and I vowed nothing would ever be more important than making coffee.  I also filled Roger in on my recent activities with Calum, and he swooned with each story.  Roger insisted we were made for each other and needed to just get married already, and I always waved him off.  That comment was too close to Hannah’s soulmate explanation, and I refused to get my hopes up.

The shift ended quickly, thankfully.  I was so excited about the night out that time seemed to fly by unusually fast.  I sprinted home and burst through the door, finding Hannah in the kitchen and giving her a tight hug.

She pulled back and pretended to get choked up.  “I’m just so proud,” she said emotionally, wiping an invisible tear from her eye.  “My little girl off to college--again.”  We laughed, and I tentatively smiled at Luke over her shoulder.  He shot me a thumbs up, and my anxiety lessened.  I think I was finally back to normal with Luke and Michael after a rocky few weeks, and I was grateful.  I loved them as friends, and wanted to celebrate as a group.

I was surprised to see Ashton in the living room, and even he managed to offer up a sincere congratulations.  I sent Hannah a glance, full of wordless questions that she pursed her lips at.  One tilt of her head towards the basement told me she’d fill me in later.

“So, are you joining us tonight?” I asked Ashton after the excitement over my news died down.  “You’re more than welcome to come, I want everyone to have a good time.”

Ashton nodded, not looking at Hannah.  “Yeah, should be fun.”

I followed Hannah downstairs to start getting ready, throwing off my blazer before crossing my arms with an expectant look.  “Well?  When the hell were you gonna tell me about Ashton?”

Hannah fell onto the pullout bed from the couch, shrugging with a small smile.  “There’s nothing to tell, really.  We...talked, recently.  Decided to be civil.”  She shrugged again.  “I don’t know if it’ll ever be the same, but at least now we can be in the same room again.”

I knew she was secretly overjoyed at being on speaking terms with Ashton again, but it was smart not to get her hopes up.  We had both worked on this, now careful and cautious instead of overly optimistic.  We got ready to go out together, curling each other’s hair and critiquing outfits.  The dress I wanted to wear was up in my room, so I padded upstairs with my hair and makeup done.

Emerging into my room, I saw the bed had been sloppily made and the pillows rearranged.  I smiled; it was a thoughtful gesture from Calum.  I slid the white skirt down my legs, tossing off the turtleneck and breathing in relief as the restricting fabric was finally off.  I found the dress I’d been searching for, pulling it out triumphantly.  It was made of a royal blue crushed velvet material that hugged my body perfectly.  I’d bought it recently with Hannah, and was excited to show it off tonight.  I hoped one person in particular noticed it, or more importantly how good I looked in it.

As I fumbled with the zipper, there was a knock at my door.  Calum peered in, and I smiled.  “Perfect, get over here.  I need your help.”

He shut the door behind him, taking in my appearance as he approached.  I turned around so he could reach the zipper, inhaling sharply as I felt his fingers at the base of my back.  He stood very close to me, breath washing over my neck as he gently pulled the zipper up.  His knuckles grazed my exposed skin as the dress began to cover it, and when he finished he ghosted his fingers across my shoulder and down my arm.

“I heard the news,” he murmured into my ear.  “Congratulations.”  I turned to face him, resting a hand on his chest.  His brown eyes sparked slightly, and his full lips were upturned in a small smirk.  I leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, and I felt him smile into my mouth.  Just like always, heat spread out from our point of contact, and I felt my fingers tangle into his curls.  His large hands cupped around my waist, pulling me close until I broke the kiss off.

“This is new,” I commented, running my fingers over the army green fabric of his bomber jacket.  The color complimented him well and I admired the way it fit his broad shoulders.  

He rolled his eyes at my obvious ogling.  “I do go shopping, you know.”

I laughed.  “Really?  Most of your tee shirts have holes in them.”

Calum’s smirk transformed into a smile, making the butterflies flutter in my stomach.  “You don’t seem to mind the holes when you’re wearing them,” he said darkly, and I felt a familiar heat building in my stomach.  I gave him another kiss, dragging this one out slightly longer.

“Maybe I could wear one later tonight,” I suggested, hinting at another round of late-night antics.  Calum snorted, squeezing my bum lightly.

“You can’t tease me like this when we’re at the club, you know,” he informed me, and I sighed.

“Fine.  I guess I’ll save all the teasing for after, then.”  At my seductive wink, he groaned, and I ducked away from his attempt at a kiss, giggling at his frown.  We joined the others downstairs, and I saw Hannah and Ashton awkwardly standing next to each other.  Hannah’s shoulders were stiff due to their proximity, but even with her tight posture she still looked good in her blush pink dress.  Ashton was clearly trying not to look at his ex in such a short dress, and cleared his throat when Calum and I entered.

“Can we go, already?  I’ll drive Luke and Scarlett, you take Michael and Hannah.”  Ashton signaled to Calum, who nodded curtly.  Already our bodies naturally drifted away from one another like they always did in public.  I didn’t mind riding separately since we weren’t supposed to be dating and the guys thought we didn’t care.  I watched Calum head for his mustang and already missed his warmth, but pushed away this feeling as I climbed into Ashton’s car.

I chatted with Luke about our shifts at work, me relaying a story about a crabby customer and him complaining about his boss.  Ashton chimed in every now and then, which I appreciated.  I really did like Ashton, despite being on Hannah’s side in their civil war.  I just hoped he would forgive her soon, because I knew how much she was still hurting.

We tried out a new club tonight, this one bigger and grander than the ones we’d previously been to.  It was mobbed, and I had to hold Hannah’s hand to keep from losing track of her.  I wanted Calum to grab my hand too, but didn’t let the disappointment get to me that much when he didn’t.

Michael ordered a round of shots and dedicated a toast in my honor.  We all knocked back a shot and I felt the fiery liquid blaze down my throat.  I managed not to cough, and instead grabbed another.  Calum was to my left, and he watched me take a second shot with sparkling eyes.

“Easy, killer.  I don’t want to have to carry you home.”  He was joking, but his hooded eyes gave me a different impression.  I could tell he was savoring my appearance under the roving lights, watching me down shots and smile carelessly.  I licked my lips, tasting a hint of alcohol, and gave him a coy wink.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want,” I purred, causing his jaw to clench.  “But for now, I’m gonna go dance.”  I knew Calum wasn’t a fan of dancing, but I knew watching me from a distance would kill him.  I grabbed Hannah’s hand and wove through the crowd until we found a good spot on the dance floor.  Hannah threw her arms around my neck with a grin, and we danced to the loud remix playing over the thundering speakers.  Our hips swayed and our feet jumped, throwing our hair back as we let ourselves succumb to the night.

I felt multiple pairs of eyes on us, and glanced around to check who was looking.  To my surprise, Ashton had his eyes glued on Hannah, and I whispered this in her ear.  Immediately, a stupid grin spread onto her face as she let out a laugh.

Calum was also watching me, but his eyes were much darker than Ashton’s.  His fingers were tight around a scotch glass, and his tense posture told me everything I needed to know.  He wanted me, and the distance between us was driving him crazy.

With an evil grin, I told Hannah I’d be right back and began to move toward the bathroom.  Without even looking I knew Calum was following me, and my grin only widened when we both entered the small bathroom alone.  The click of the door locking made the hair on my neck stand up, and I sat back against the sink.  Calum stayed by the door, brows low over his eyes as he smirked at me under the dim lighting.

I shook my head, making a tsk tsk sound.  “For someone who’s trying to keep our fling under wraps, you sure can’t keep your eyes off of me.”  I knew mocking him was dangerous, but I loved making him squirm.

Calum pushed off the door and came closer to me, hands sliding up my sides as he sighed.  “What can I say?  Seeing you like this does things to me.”

He leaned in to kiss my neck, and I let my eyes close as I exhaled in bliss.  He sucked at a point below my ear, causing my hands to grip at his biceps.  I angled my lips toward his ear, whispering, “And what things would that be, exactly?”

I heard a small groan rumble in his throat, and he pulled back to meet my devilish eyes.  His fingers closed around my wrist, pulling my hand down his front all the way to his pants.  I felt the mound growing there, grinning as he sucked in a breath when I pressed against it gently.

“Ah,” I responded.  “That thing.”  I lifted off of the sink and used one hand to push Calum back until he was against the far wall.  His breathing was hard, brow furrowed in slight confusion as he anticipated what I would do.  Grinning, I took his ear lobe gently between my teeth and tugged, eliciting another groan.

My hands, now experts at working his belts, toyed with the buckle until it released.  I then undid the button of his jeans, leaving a trail of wet kisses along his jaw as I did this.  I placed a chaste kiss on his lips before looking through my lashes into his eyes, dropping to my knees and causing his eyes to spark with lust.

Delicately, I pushed his jeans aside and revealed his straining boxers, smiling slightly as I kissed down his stomach and gradually bringing my lips lower.  I pulled the elastic band down, revealing a soft trail of hair before running my hand along the smooth skin, springing his erection free.  I admired his long, stiff length, touching my fingers ever so slightly to the warm skin.  Gently grabbing hold of it and bringing it towards my lips, I let a warm breath wash over the throbbing tip.

Calum groaned at the sensation, and when I glanced up I saw his eyes were shut with pleasure.  I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, feeling it twitch with excitement.  Leaning down, I slid my tongue up the side of his shaft, earning a muted growl of satisfaction.  Reaching the tip, I closed my lips around the head of his cock, beginning to swirl my tongue around the warm skin.  

“Shit,” Calum breathed when he felt my mouth on him.  His hands wrapped into my hair as I sank my mouth lower onto him, taking as much of him as I could.  He hit the back of my throat, and his hiss echoed in my ears as I used my hands to work the part I couldn’t reach.

I dragged his cock in and out of my mouth, tongue massaging as I went.  My lips formed a tight O around him as I moved my lips, bobbing my head rhythmically.  Carefully I used my tongue to lick at his slit, and his hips bucked forcefully.  Grinning, I pulled him out of my mouth and used my hand for a second, licking around his tip teasingly.

“Holy--” Calum started, gripping my hair tighter.  His cock was rigid and trembling now, telling me he was close to finishing.  I licked the flat of my tongue back up his length, then took all of him in my mouth once again.  I moved faster this time, focusing on getting as much of him as I could.  Swear words echoed in my ears as he unwound above me, fist banging against the wall to keep from moaning too loudly.

I pushed him against my throat particularly hard, and when I heard his strangled cry I knew he had been pushed over the edge.  His cock twitched in my mouth, shooting out a sticky liquid that I promptly swallowed.  I slowly took him out of my mouth, kissing his swollen tip before rising off of my knees.

Without hesitating, Calum smashed his lips to mine, not caring where I’d just been.  He kissed me with a fervor, and I felt waves of gratitude rolling off of him.  I grinned into the kiss, happy to have pleased him so much.  When he pulled away to redo his belt, I sucked at his neck and kept my hand on the side of his face.

He caught my eye and smirked at my triumphant expression.  “You’re evil,” he growled, squeezing my hips and earning a chuckle from me.  I pushed at a bit of hair that covered his forehead, marveling in his spectacular brown eyes.

“Only for you, baby,” I drawled.  The smirk on my face faded as I saw something flash across his face.  It was there for only a brief instant, but I saw the change nonetheless.  His lust-filled eyes had warmed for a second, his expression more than just pleased that I’d gone down on him.  The way he held me in his arms communicated more than he would ever say, and when his lips parted my heart stopped.

“We should go.”

Those were not the three words I was expecting.  Anger at myself and humiliation at getting so excited over nothing pricked at my mind, and I couldn’t help but frown.  What was I thinking?  What about this situation was romantic?  It was dirty, and hot, and definitely more than a little bit fun.  But that’s all it was; I shouldn’t have been so stupid to look deeper into it. 

He kissed me one last time before taking my hand and leading me out of the bathroom, and when he faced away I dropped my fake smile and took a shaky breath.  

Calum and I separated for the rest of the night, like we normally did.  We both tried to appear nonchalant, coming up with different excuses for where had just been.  I danced with Hannah more, giggling when Luke and Ashton joined us.  I danced with Luke while I spied on Ashton and Hannah, who were closer to each other than they’d been in weeks.  Ashton’s hands were awkward on her hips, careful not to roam, and she looked stiff beside him.  But I also detected a bit of optimism in her eyes when she gazed up at him, and I prayed he didn’t break her heart again.

When it was time to leave, I rode home with Calum this time.  Hannah had asked me to switch in a hushed voice, and reading her wide eyes I knew she’d had a decent night.  I was glad to switch, since it meant more time with Calum.  I refused to let my slip up in the bathroom shake me, and instead met Calum’s eyes in his rear view mirror as Michael drunkenly explained something I couldn’t quite make out.  Calum’s eyes were light and joking, and he pretended to nod along with Michael’s story.  I leaned against the window and stared out at the dark night sky, pleasantly buzzed and positively exhausted.

It was no surprise when Calum and I went into the same room.  Tonight it was his, since we’d stayed in mine the night before.  We didn’t have a set routine, but we were so in sync we did the same thing anyway.  He helped me unzip my dress, once again igniting sparks where his fingers touched.  Neither of us had enough energy to do anything but sleep, and my eyes were already heavy.

As Calum pulled on sweatpants, his top half bare like usual, he tossed me one of his shirts.  I caught it with deft hands and smiled, gladly diving into the dark fabric and inhaling the scent of him.  His open arms invited me into bed as I crawled across the mattress, sighing into his skin and resting my head on his chest.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said after a few minutes of quiet.  It was dark, and I could barely make out the tattoos on his skin.  I smiled drowsily.

“Anytime.”

I could sense he wasn’t ready to go to bed yet, and shifted so I was looking at him.  Even in the dim lighting I knew exactly what his face looked like, the angle of his jaw and the curve of his mouth.  I reached a finger out to trace his lips, enjoying his soft breath on my hand.

“What are you going to do in the future?  You know, after college?”  I was surprised at his question, and my finger stalled in its movement.  I felt his lips purse into the pad of my index finger, the gesture causing an odd squeeze of my heart.

I rolled over to lay next to him, hand spread out across his abdomen.  “I would have said find a job, buy a house, settle down.”  I fidgeted with the ends of my hair, staring up at the black ceiling.

“‘Would have’?” Calum repeated, and I could hear the frown in his voice.  “You don’t want to do that now?”

I shrugged, my shoulder brushing his.  “I don’t know.  I used to have all these plans, I swear I knew exactly what I was gonna do down to the week.”  I paused, remembering the old me who used to love writing in her planner.  “And then my parents died and I left school.  It seemed like life was telling me to stop making plans and just...live, you know?”

I wished I could see his face, gauge his reaction.  All I heard was a small sigh.  “I hate planning,” he replied.  “It just opens up more opportunities to be disappointed.”

Surprisingly, this made a lot of sense to me.  The dejection I felt whenever a plan fell through was tiring, and lately it seemed that was all that was happening.  Without any expectations, I couldn’t be hurt when they didn’t work out.  I realized Calum’s carefree attitude inspired this change in me; he opened my eyes to a different lifestyle, one I found myself enjoying.  It was nice not knowing what we were, not having to conform to any boundaries or boxes.  We could just be, whatever and whenever we wanted.  

Laying beside him, our hearts beating in tune and our bodies in perfect harmony, I curled into his side and he draped an arm around me.  I buried myself as deep into him as I could, closing my eyes as another realization hit me: maybe Calum wasn’t the one in love.  Maybe it was me.

[saijspellhart]

Things I binged recently:

(Still coping with grief and depression, and one of the ways I tend to do that is just to distract myself from it all with Netflix. Here are some things I watched or tried watching. And my thoughts on them.)

The Office: Hated this show. Which was a shame because I really really enjoyed Parks and Rec, and these shows are supposed to be similar in style. Unfortunately this show is cynical, mean, and pessimistic. Characters get away with being outright racist, sexist, and antagonistic. Are unapologetic about their hurtful actions, and it sickens me. I was told season one was bad, and to watch season two, and I did. And even season two was awful. And I shouldn’t have to slog through three seasons of a show before it gets to a point where it’s like-able and good. If it takes you three seasons to figure it out, then no thanks. That’s a lot of show I have to suffer through before I MIGHT get to something I enjoy. I loved Parks and Rec because the characters loved and cared about each other, had genuine friendships, aspirations, and optimism. They strived to better the world around them, despite many mishaps and obstacles along the way. Parks and Rec was uplifting and sincere, where The Office is cynical and mean. 1/10.

A Whisker Away: Good, although I found the romance between the main character and her crush to be insincere and weak. I think the message of love would have been stronger if the best friend ended up being the one going to rescue her in the end. It never felt like the boy actually had feelings for her, just a begrudging respect and budding friendship. And it felt like his feelings were guilted and coerced by her actions to run away in the end. Like, “shit, I messed up and she ran away from home. Better tell her I love her, so she comes back home.” I understand that wasn’t what they were trying to do in this film, but it’s how the relationship came across. Manipulative. Especially since most of it was one sided, with her spying on his life as a cat. The love someone has for a pet does not equate romantic affection. Excellent movie for the heavy themes, Magic, and story, just think the overall message and relationships should have been overhauled, and worked around. I think the love the main character’s best friend had for her was more pure and powerful that the one-sided obsessive crush she had on the boy. 6/10.

Brand New Animal: Great show. Both my husband and I loved it. And were gushing about it even after we finished it. My only critique is all the heavy handed exposition. It felt clunky, ham-handed, and unnatural. I think with a few more episodes to the show they might have been able to parse out that exposition and find more natural ways to feed the audience that information, rather than huge unsolicited info dumps on the Main Character. Especially since half the time she didn’t earn that info, didn’t need it, didn’t ask, and just plain shouldn’t have been told some of it. Like why would you just spit classified secret information out to a character you know can’t keep secrets, or even follow directions?? Aside from that, solid characters, solid friendships, cute story, lots of interesting events, and just a blast from start to finish. Would highly recommend it to anyone. If you like Zootopia or Beastars, you’ll probably enjoy this too. 8/10.

Japan Sinks 2020: I. LOVED. THIS. SHOW. Omg, it had me on the edge of my seat the entire time. I just couldn’t stop watching. It’s in the disaster movie genre. Like Volcano, Dante’s Peak, or The Day After Tomorrow. That “what if this catastrophic natural disaster occurred,” and you follow this group of survivors as they work together to stay alive. And damnit if I wasn’t emotionally invested in every single one of them. I wanted to see them survive, and see how they made it through. I wasn’t sure if I was gonna be able to connect as strongly with their struggle given that it was animated rather than live action. But that didn’t matter at all. The tone is serious, and everything is given the weight and consideration it deserves. The animation style has a realistic tone to it, and the fact that it was an anime never got in the way of the journey and the emotions and the intensity for a second. I felt ALL of it. 10/10.

Unsolved Mysteries Netflix (documentary): I’m a slut for documentaries, all kinds of documentaries. So it’s no surprise I watched this. If you like unsatisfying true stories then this is it. A whole season of unsolved crimes. You get all the information wrapped up and handed to you in a neat little interesting package, and are left to just gnaw on it wondering who did it, and if they’ll ever solve it. One of the episodes isn’t a crime though, it’s a UFO story, which was a weird change of pace and tone from the rest of the season. Still creepy, but in a different way. I liked it, but it can be frustrating when you want answers. It gets an 7/10 because I wanted answers.

Kipo and the Age of the Wonderbeasts: I could watch this show over and over again. My husband and I were foaming at the mouth waiting for season 2, and when it finally released, we gobbled it up and then watched it again right after. Excellent show. Post-Apocalyptic story, where the surface of the earth is overrun with mutant animals, and humans are living underground in “burrows.” The main character Kipo gets separated from her people and stranded on the surface, and has to find a way home. Along the way she makes some human friends, and mutant friends, and connects with people through music. And even learns some deep dark secrets about her Mom and Dad, and even herself. It’s a beautiful story emotionally, but also an exciting adventure. I love it. 10/10.

Eurovision, the Story of Fire Saga: Good. Which is saying something because I’m not a fan of Will Ferrell and he plays one of the main characters in this movie. I enjoyed the movie, and it made me laugh. Which was another surprise because I’m a cold-hearted bitch when it comes to comedy, and most things don’t make me laugh. So when a comedy works for me it’s a surprise. And this comedy worked in places. Not ALL places, but it did get some chuckles and a laugh or two. And I did enjoy the story it told. The movie is about two friends who are musicians/singers that enter singing/performance contest, and the drama that ensues along the way. It’s a cute underdog story. 6/10.

Floor is Lava (game show): The name of the game says it all. Groups of three contestants must navigate rooms using only furniture, and chandeliers, and shit. They can’t touch the floor because the room is flooded with hot orange koolaid. And if they fall in they “die.” Prepare to watch grown ass adults hop, hobble, and flop over furniture, tables, and other obstacles, as they try to get from one side of a room to the other side without falling into the koolaid. It’s exciting, and fun, and although the commentary is awful, the struggle of the contestants more than makes up for it. 8/10.

Splice: Never seen this movie before. Thought I’d give it a try since it just showed up on Netflix. It’s... odd. I’m having a hard time deciding if I loved or hated it. It’s an interesting look into what could happen should we start experimenting with human DNA and other sentient life. And how that could go all kinds of wrong very quickly. I like horror, and this delivered on some of the horror elements, but mostly it just jabs you over and over again with moral dilemmas. And you end up feeling like all the characters in the movie majorly failed each other, and they were all the bad guys. I’ll give it a 5/10 because I’m conflicted whether I liked it or not. But it was worth seeing once.

Ju-on Origins: I’ve seen a couple of the Grudge movies, which is the Americanized version of this horror franchise. But I’ve never seen any of the Ju-on movies. So it was a new experience watching this. It’s non-linear storytelling can be challenging to follow, but the stories it’s telling are fascinating and unnerving. I had to watch it with the shitty English dub because my attention span is too short for subtitles. And this wasn’t just a single movie, it’s a show with an entire first season. Episode 4 was definitely where shit hit the fan, and things got really scary. But I like slow burn horror, so I enjoyed the build up of the previous three episodes, and how they just carefully built on the apprehension and dread until things really got scary in the fourth episode. After that the rest of the show is just a roller coaster of highs and lulls, that leave you wondering where the series is gonna go in season 2. Definitely my favorite installment in the Grudge/Ju-on franchise that I’ve seen so far. And it’s got me curious to check out the other Ju-on movies. 8/10.

The Girl with all the Gifts: I’m a sucker for zombie movies and this was a unique and refreshing take on them. The idea is that the zombie outbreak is caused by a strain of the Cordyceps fungus that ends up infecting humans. And the surviving humans are using children born from infected mothers to try and find a cure for the outbreak. The children are like this functioning hybrid of fungus and human, and not completely lost like the humans who were directly infected. The movie explores the moral dilemma of how the children are treated, and the further of humans. I enjoyed the movie, and the concepts. It was a great addition to the zombie franchise. Would recommend. 7/10.

Abducted in Plain Sight (documentary): another crime documentary. This one dealt with a kidnapper/pedophile who managed to kidnap the same girl twice, and the lasting trauma his actions had on that girl. It was sad, and heartbreaking, and horrifying. If you like crime documentaries and have a steely stomach, check this one out. I won’t give it a rating because it deals with real life stuff and children and it’s not a show.

Evil Genius (documentary): one last documentary on this list. I was on a crime documentary spree. Usually I like animal documentaries. This one was about a couple who masterminded a bank heist by attaching a collar bomb to a man and sending him on a wild goose chase scavenger hunt. There’s also a case about a corpse in a freezer, and how the two cases are connected. It’s absolutely bonkers. Just wow. It’s four episodes long, a mini-series, but just an interesting experience. I mostly watched/listened to this while slowly chipping away at a commission. If you like crime documentaries it’s worth a watch. I give this one a 6/10 because I won’t be watching it a second time, but also because I think the format and how they explained everything was kinda long winded.

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Limerence [M] ︳31

Pairing: Zuko x OC

AU: Adult-Verse

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 9200+

Notes: Greetings! I’m going to be posting a bonus chapter soon! It’s the bonus chapter I promised a bit ago; it’s didn’t fit well with the plot until now. That saying, I have another bonus chapter in the works. I reached 1k votes on Wattpad, which is crazy, and I wanted to create a bonus chapter.

Other than that, thank you for reading and leaving lovely comments. I appreciate the heart-warming support from you all. Take care~!

Masterlist ︳30 [M]  ︳ Bonus pt. 2 [M]

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person. The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

“He was her warmth / she was his peace”

(English/quo.) By Even Sanders; ‘The Better Man Project.’

 ~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

            Anger? No…maybe frustration?

            A small huff flew through my lips, eyes scanning Zuko. He sat on the other side of Appa’s saddle with Aang and Sokka, discussing something. And while I knew the responsible thing would be to listen to what Toph and Suki had to say – I couldn’t.

            Curiosity had me in its grip, studying Zuko with such care, I wish I paid this much attention to my everyday life.

            It was just that…Zuko was such a puzzle, and it was maddening.

            I was observant. Naturally learning the way people spoke, move – and in a matter of seconds, I could figure someone out. But with Zuko – I couldn’t. He was secretive, and that just made my sense of inquisitiveness grow. What’s going through Zuko’s head? What was he feeling?

            Just briefly skimming Sokka, I could tell he was focused on whatever they were conversing. The way he crossed his arms, leaning forward with his head titled down – those were all tale-tell signs that he was attentive to the conversation. I even had Aang figured out! When his hands rested on his lap, it meant he was calm, but since his fingers were tightly linked, it meant he was concerned. It was little gestures like those that made me understand everyone’s mood – except Zuko.

            His lips were pressed tight, which in theory would mean he was upset, but the way he sat, leaning back with his legs propped…Lounging meant he was at ease but…why are his arms crossed?

            “Is Princess still staring at Zuko?”                   

            “You guessed it – come on! You live with the guy, what more do you want?” Suki groused, her hand shoving me jokily. My gaze broke from Zuko, a faint blush covering my cheeks as I bashfully smiled.

            “S-sorry. I must have zoned out.” Suki rolled her eyes, giving me a look that proved she knew I was lying, before speaking, “Mhmm…well, what were we talking about again?”

            “How Princess figured out Mai was the snitch.”

            My mouth opened and closed, uneasy, since, at the mere mention of Mai, the boys rapidly shifted their focus on me. “Toph has a point, we never did ask...” Sokka budded. My arms cradled my body, trying desperately to blend in with Appa’s saddle…or his fur… How about I throw myself over? How far of a drop could it possibly be?

            “It’s a long story…” I started.

            Toph snorted, “We got time. Spill.”

            “We can talk about it when we get to the kingdom, we have much to discuss once we arrive – I prefer we don’t waste our breath.” Zuko asserted, an attempt to bring the whole topic to an end. I let out a breath, our eyes aligning momentarily. He gave me a knowing nod, obliviously sensing my uneasiness and a wave of appreciation engulfed me. He’s too good for me. With that statement, Zuko shifted his gaze towards the horizon.

            The mountains and overall landscape looked insignificant being this high, and in some ways – it was humbling. Gosh. I missed riding Appa through the snowy peaks time ago…it was such a stress reliever.

            The lack of clouds provided us with a magnificent view of the Fire Nation. The endless mounds of vegetation, small towns scattered about – some greater than others. To think that Zuko ruled over all of this…my heart started pounding just thinking about it. I could barely take care of myself, let alone a damn Nation.

            “Fine, but we do have to talk about what we’re going to do with Mai when we land. Are you going to arrest her? Talk to her?” Toph insisted, not letting the topic die off. Suki huffed, pulling on the strings that lined the leather on her gloves, “Toph has a point. She may be a friend, but she’s a threat…”

            “Mai is still a friend. We speak as if arresting our friend comes without pains.” Aang protested - the first I’ve heard him speak in a while. His voice was taut, fingers digging into his mustard robes, wrinkling the material. Sokka let a hand drop over Aang’s shoulder, lips pressed.

            “But if Mai’s the snitch than she’s as guilty as Azula. Mai could be charged with attempted murder, treason, and the list goes on, Aang.” Sokka insisted and hearing that made my stomach uneasy. Attempted murder-

            The headache that I woke up with this morning seemed to be coming back, my hand trailing up my face as I grasped my head. It was pounding, and it didn’t seem to go away completely. Just a constant, dull, stabbing pain – please don’t tell me I’m getting sick…probably just stress.

            “We can decide once we land. We don’t know if Mai is aware that we know she’s the snitch. And if that is the case, it would be to our benefit to let her wander free, track her movements. Spying on the spy.” Zuko muttered and hearing his voice once again had my closed eyes fluttering open. The way his voice trailed off towards the end, I could start piecing together the emotions and thoughts running through his head.

            “I agree with Zuko; it’s the safest plan. Babe, have you told Ty Lee about what’s going on with Mai?” Sokka asked, and Suki let out another tired sigh. She shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head meekly before meeting his gaze, “No. I need to tell her in person; I know it’ll hurt her, hearing all of this. I can’t let anything distract her, she’s my second, and I need her to be at her sharpest until I come back.”

            “So we let Mai be for the time being, and how about Azula? What do we do about her.” Toph grumbled, and this time, no one spoke.

            Everyone’s eyes shifted, looking at their hands or feet, anywhere, besides Zuko.

            That’s it, how did I not realize before? Something so painfully obvious – why Aang and Sokka didn’t attack Azula that night. Realistically, Aang could’ve handled Azula with ease, but all he did was reflect her attacks, getting himself burnt in the process…it was something that bothered me, but ignored. But now that she mentioned it…

            Toph let out a grunt, her feet tapping impatiently against Appa’s saddle, and I held my breath. “Well? What’s your grand plan involving Azula – almighty Fire Lord.” Toph pestered with her arms tightly crossed over her chest. I could see the way Zuko tightened his jaw, his hands clenching.

            “We can think about it later Toph…” I babbled without much thought, anything to get Zuko out of the corner she put him in.

            Sadness – that was what was running through his mind. It was difficult for me to pinpoint that look because it wasn’t a look Zuko wore often. He was usually exasperated, livid, even irritated, but sorrow; that was new.

            To my dismay, Toph didn’t seem all too pleased with my answer, shaking her head. “I get that she may be your future sister-in-law, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s a damn criminal.” I swallowed hard because Toph was right.

            Aang and I were looking at Azula and Mai with our hearts – not viewing the situation for what it was. Toph wasn't unreasonable – she was logical.

            “What do you propose, Toph?” Zuko shot back, his tone thick.

            Toph’s lips curved downwards, tilting her head as if to hear better. The moment I saw her thin lips beginning to move, I could feel my heart thrashing, the relentless hammering in my head emphasizing my anxiety. Toph and Zuko were similar in many ways – and their assertiveness was undeniably one of their commonalities.

            It was Aang’s airy voice that cut the growing tension for a moment, and I could allow myself to breathe. “We could capture her, get her the help she needs…help her as much as we can.” A chance to get his sister back. I knew Zuko loved Kiyi with all his heart; he viewed her as a daughter at this point, but I could still feel Zuko’s hesitation revolving Azula.

            As much as he was hated Azula, wanted her out of the picture – I saw the faint glimmer of hope in his eyes. He cared, whether or not he wanted to admit it. Zuko wasn’t heartless, and while he had everyone else fooled – I wasn’t.

            Everyone faced Zuko, waiting for his approval, but he didn’t utter a word. His long digits tapped along his thighs, golden eyes staring longingly into the distance. Silence and Zuko were two words that never went together in one sentence. Toph didn’t wait any longer to hear a response, speaking with clipped speech.

            “Mark my words Zuko; I’ll try to capture her, for you, but we both know what should be done. And if given a chance, I’ll do it without hesitation.”

            Zuko let out a bitter laugh, before glancing back at Toph, “As Fire Lord, you have my permission – kill her. It’s for the best, for not only my Nation but for the other Nations as well. But as her brother…” He flicked his fingers before letting his hands comb through his hair, “As her brother…I want the best. I want her safe. I want her home.”

            No one spoke a word.

            Everyone’s eyes shifted back down to the brown saddle we sat upon, letting the words Zuko muttered become one with the brisk air. He leaned back; arms crossed as he stared at the skyline once again. My body moved without thinking – the overwhelming urge to comfort Zuko eating me from the inside out. How I hated seeing him like this – I need to see that perfect smile of his.

            Crawling on my hands and knees, it didn’t take long for me to be by Zuko’s side, feeling everyone’s eyes over me.

            “Zuko…” I muttered under my breath, jerking Zuko from his thoughts. I was a hair away from him, but he was consumed with his feelings, he didn’t even notice. He was visibly on edge, looking at me with muddled thoughts, “What’s wrong, love?”

            I let my body drop, head falling over his lap as I curved into a tiny ball. My hands reached for his, forcing them to fall over my head, “What are-”

            “My head, it hurts…can you hold me?”

            It was like night and day.

            Zuko’s body relaxed, his hands combing through my hair. His shaky hands soon steadied, his warm breath even and no longer deep exhales of frustration. My hands hugged his legs, letting my head snuggle into his waist. The throbbing that resided along my forehead slowly began to ease with his warm touches, a small moan of relief escapes me.

            Amidst my need to squeeze myself closer to Zuko, our eyes lined up for a short moment. A lovely look of freedom washed over his face. His lips moved ever so slowly, not a sound escaping him. With or without sound, I could still make out the heartwarming message he whispered to me, ‘Thank you.’

            Just as fast as he mouthed the words, a faint smile on his face, he leaned back against the saddle, his fingers combing through my hair. A soft smile painted my face, unable to control the pleasing hum that radiated from my chest. My head hurt – yes, and while getting Zuko to caress my head was amazing, that wasn’t the reason I crawled over here.

            Zuko needed comfort, whether or not he wanted to admit it.

            Getting Zuko to snuggle me wasn’t for my own selfish needs; it was because I knew better than anyone that what Zuko needed at the moment was a good hug. I may not have Zuko as figured out as I wish, but I did know him. The man I loved was a damn sucker for cuddles, had a weird fascination with my hair, but more importantly – he needed constant reassurance and attention. Things I could, and would, gladly do in a heartbeat.

            My eyes fluttered shut, melting under his touches, like a kitten. I knew it was only a matter of time we arrived at the Kingdom, I could vaguely recall seeing the crimson rooftops, but I couldn’t help but let my breathing even out.

            Home.

            We were almost there, and I found myself beaming at the thought of seeing Kiyi again. Oh, I can already hear her squeals of excitement! Ursa more than likely annoying Zuko with the idea of marriage, while Noren tried to save Zuko from his mother's dreams.

            Then Iroh…what would he not say? Probably asking us if we managed to bring any teas for his tea shop…that’s right, he should be leaving back to the Earth Nation in another week or so. I’m going to miss Iroh-

            “Hold tight; we’re landing.” Aang chirped, causing me to grumble under my breath. Just when my headache was starting to ease. Zuko’s grip shifted to my arms, staring down at me with concern, “You���re pale, love.”

            “I don’t feel good…” I muttered, letting Zuko help me sit up. The moment my back straightened, I could feel a wave of nausea wash over me for a second, shuddering under my breath. I'm totally getting sick.

            “Sokka, when did you say Katara is coming?” Suki asked, concern laced in her voice. A hand rested on my thigh; Suki’s to be exact, the leather giving it away. She was crouched down, and even with her makeup, I could see the look of worry on her face.

            “Next week, maybe?”

            “Aang, could we send Appa to fetch Katara? Yue doesn’t look too hot...”

            “I’m fine, just a little bit under the weather.” I dismissed, trying hard to force a lively smile. Zuko kissed his teeth, the grip he had on my back tight, “As soon as we land, you’re going to bed. You’re sick. You probably caught something during that beach walk.” Zuko complained under his breath, and I coloured.

            He had a point.

            I may…or may not…had convinced Zuko to go on a walk along the beach far past midnight. I couldn’t help it! What a shame would it be to say we went to the beach and hadn’t gotten to see or spend time at the beach? It’s like going to a bakery and walking out with a piece of deli – it just doesn’t make sense.

            The chilly air of that night and wet feet, because I was insistent on getting my toes into the water, most likely didn’t help in the matter. “I’ll be fine; I just need a nap-”

            “You need a nurse, love. And so be it, I’ll tie you to the bed if it means you’re getting some rest and I SWEAR SOKKA. Wipe that stupid grin off your face!” Zuko snapped, glaring harshly at the only person who could tick off Zuko and somehow not feel his wrath.

            Sokka laughed, waving his hands innocently, “I didn’t say or do anything! Trust me, buddy, the last thing I want is to imagine the nasty things you do to my little sister.”

            “You need to tell us about those fresh hickies you failed to cover up on your neck, Princess. It seems like someone got some action.” Suki giggled, and in a flash, chaos.

            Sokka choked on air, and Zuko shot a dirty look at Suki.     

            “Holy shit – you’re telling me those screams I heard that morning wasn’t a dream!” Sokka shrieked, and before anything else could be spoken, Aang pulled on Appa’s reins, causing us to nosedive to an open space in the Kingdom.

            All we could hear was the vague screams of Sokka cursing in languages yet to be discovered, while Toph and Suki laughed hysterically to themselves. Aang shot us a cheeky grin with a thumbs up, my hands gripping onto Zuko’s shirt for dear life. As much as I loved riding Appa, the feeling of weightlessness as we landed or took off had me shutting my eyes tightly. Between Sokka’s screaming and this icky feeling – my headache was in no way going away anytime soon.

            Only when I heard Appa groan loudly, signalling that we had landed did my eyes open. Appa’s feet stomped on the stone walkway, dust flying off into different directions. The guards that stood, waiting for us, had to hold their helmets in place.

            “Shit Zuko – when we sort all of this fuckery out I’m giving you and Yue a damn talk!” Sokka snarled towards us, and Zuko grinned, “I don’t think we need a talk – I think I do a pretty good job at making Yue feel good, right, love?”

            Sokka and my cheeks were a flaming red – both for different reasons.

            Toph choked in a laugh, and before Sokka could explode, the sounds of the guards approaching, and people calling our names, had Zuko and I shifting personas.

            Zuko cleared his throat, standing tall as he helped me stand. “Fire Lord Zuko, Imperial Consort Ying Yue, a beautiful vacation we assume?” a guard spoke, hand outstretched towards me. With his guidance, I found myself getting off Appa’s back, and I smiled. “It was splendid; I would love to go back sometime soon.”

            The guard smiled at my words, genuinely happy to hear that I had a great time, despite all the chaos that happened. Zuko jumped off Appa, the rest following suit.

            I turned on my heel, gazing about at the small crowd around us. We landed directly at the kingdom, meaning we avoided the unnecessary crowds we would have bumped into at the pier. But despite it all, I found my gaze wandering about, watching as everyone politely bowed, addressing me formally.

            What a change…

            I was used to the informality from the maids and workers at the house, and being back here reminded me of my position. The tall walls, the perfectly tended foliage around us – it felt weird being here, although another part of me was happy. The urge to jump into bed with Zuko, cuddling and falling asleep…

            “Excuse me – move aside, you’re in our way.” A voice grumbled through the guards. My brows pinched together hearing the persons’ tone, low and unquestionably rude. I looked over my shoulder, Zuko was busy conversing with soldiers with the others, not noting or in earshot of what I was hearing.

            The guards that surrounded us, one by one, moved aside, and the more I observed, the more I learned. Four figures weaved themselves in and out of the disorder around us, pushing the guards without care or respect. How rude of them. Who do they think they are? I found myself stepping forward, eager to see the faces of such inconsiderate people, only to notice the clothing they wore.

            Each person wore striking red garments; robes that skimmed the floor and littered with decorations and embellishments. While they were not as extravagant or lavish as the clothing Zuko and I wore on a daily – they were, undeniably, people of high status.

            My eyes studied the man leading the bunch, an older gentleman, followed by two others and a woman. The moment their eyes fell upon me, they stilled in their tracks, staring as if I was the living embodiment of garbage itself. As I opened my mouth, ready to introduce myself, I froze, spotting the sparkling emblems that decorated their arms.

            “Greetings council – pleasure seeing you here,” I spoke, forcing a smile onto my face as I politely bowed.  

“There are twelve councilmen – and out of those twelve, four voted against you. The rest approved, the majority won.” Zuko whispered into my ear. I flipped onto my side, facing him as I listened to the words he muttered into my ear.

Despite the darkness that flooded the room, I could still make out the faint frown on his face. His hand caressed my face, letting his fingers draw my features, “Why did they vote against me? Those four people…” I muttered under my breath.

Unexpectedly, Zuko pinched my nose, a playful smile dancing upon his lips, “Because they don’t realize how utterly adorable my baby is.” Zuko cooed. My heart swelled hearing those words, smushing my face against his chest with glowing cheeks.

            It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together – these four people were unarguably the people who voted against me. The scowls that painted their faces, lips pressed tight, hands balled into fists. It was like four Mai’s – just older and, somehow, grumpier.

            “Imperial Consort Ying Yue.” The man, in front, sneered while bowing.

            My eyes narrowed. While they did bow, it was by no means a respectable one. I wasn’t fussy on customs, but when someone so obliviously detested me, it was adding salt to a wound. “What may I do for you?” I asked, forcing my voice to sound as sweet as possible. The headache that I tried to ignore wasn’t helping; I think they’re making my head worse.

            “Nothing at all – we are here to see Fire Lord Zuko, we have a meeting scheduled.”

            I frowned; meeting?

            “Fire Lord Zuko never spoke of a meeting for today-” I started, but the man interrupted me, heckling under his breath, “It was unplanned, and hopefully after today, you will no longer have to worry about such matters.”

            “What?” I gasped, noticing the hostility in his tone.

            “What is going on?” A voice spoke from behind me, the deepness causing me to jump slightly. A heated hand rested on my lower back, feeling Zuko’s touch, as he studied me and the others. The way the four councilmembers bowed lowly at the mere presence of Zuko had me biting my lip. Assholes. It was clear they were trying to disrespect me, and Zuko seemed to notice because he didn’t return the formality.

            “We have a meeting planned, Fire Lord Zuko.”

            “I didn’t approve of any meeting today.”

            “It was a meeting proposed by us, the council.”

            “Everyone, or just the four of you?” Zuko interrogated.

            I could feel his fingers digging into my back, exasperation lingering with every word Zuko spoke. At this point, the rest of the gang awkwardly stood, off to the side. Suki pointed at the elders, looking at me with a look that screamed ‘what’s going on?’ I shrugged swiftly, looking at Zuko and the elders once again.

            The knots in my stomach grew in size; something wasn’t right. The way they addressed me and how they were speaking to Zuko…

            “Yes, the four of us. It has been brought to our attention that not everyone is pleased with the idea of the future Fire Nation Queen being a Waterbender.” The man spoke bitterly, and at that moment, I could feel my stomach in my throat. They couldn’t be-

            The grip on my back loosened, Zuko moving in front of me with a vengeance.

            Zuko’s shoulders squared, his back straight as he looked down at the four individuals in front of us. “Who I decide to be my consort is not up for discussion. Ying Yue Jiang is my partner and the future Fire Nation Queen. Meeting over.” Zuko snarled, stepping dangerously close to the councilmembers.

            The silence that flooded the area at which we stood was painful.

            Not even the sound of Appa’s heavy breathing could be heard. Aang and Sokka were glaring, cautiously stepping forward as the guards around us watched the scene unfold. The guard's posture changed from a defensive position to an offensive, their hands deliberately hovering in front of them, ready to protect Zuko.

            “We are politely asking for you to reconsider your decision-” The man stubbornly pushed, and the vein in Zuko’s neck bulged. This is bad, really bad.

            “My stance is firm.”

            “Well, if you follow us, we have brought suitable candidates. Individuals who come from royalty with strong bloodlines of Firebenders, and…” The man snorted, chinning to my direction with a glare, “far more pleasing to the eye.”

            “You what?” I hissed.

            Red.

            All I saw was red.

            My shoulder brushed passed Zuko, rage pumping in my veins, the headache festering in my mind growing in intensity the more I thought. “You brought other women, to our home?”

            The man’s eyes widen, stepping back as I inched forward.

            The looks in their eyes proved that they were not expecting my outburst – eyes feverishly flickering between Zuko and I. To think, that with a flick of my wrist I could- I swallowed hard, pushing the dangerous thought away before I finished it.

            “Are you not aware of my position, who I am to you?”

            While the other individuals wisely stepped back, the evident leader of the bunch didn’t. He puffed out his chest, matching his step towards mine, and in a second, I felt Zuko’s hands falling over my arms, “Yue – leave it to me-” He whispered, and I frowned.

            “No. It seems like people are abusing my niceness.” I spoke stridently. The man scoffed, crossing his arms, “There isn’t a single thing about you worth abusing. You have no name, title; you’re nothing.”

            “Is that so? How humiliating it’ll be for you to get dismissed by a person who is supposedly nothing.” I taunted, hands on my hips as I stepped forward.

            “You don’t have the power of such-”

            “But I do. You see, while I do enjoy spending time with my future husbands family, and getting to know the people who serve this kingdom; I also spend my time learning about Fire Nation politics.” I started.

            While this imprudent man may be taller than me in stature, he was the one cowering away in an instance. My finger jammed those silky red robes that covered his chest, my nail digging into his clothes.

            “Should Fire Lord Zuko fall ill, power temporarily falls onto my hands. And I can say with utmost certainty, the very first thing I’ll do is dispose of your mere existence.” I hissed, leaning carefully to his face, making sure he heard every word that I uttered.

            The colour from the man’s face left, standing there with his mouth open, wide enough to catch flies. “Are you threatening me?” The man whispered, and I snickered, “It’s not a threat. Consider it an early notice of termination.”

            I could feel Zuko’s hands fall over my shoulders gently, his fingers massaging. Goosebumps rose on my skin, no expecting such a romantic gesture, but he didn’t stop. His chest pushed against my back, his lips brushing my ear before letting out a dangerous purr.

            “Now that we have arrived, love, I do feel unwell. Maybe it would be best for me to rest – would you be a sweetheart and take over, Imperial Consort Ying Yue?”

            “My pleasure, Fire Lord Zuko.” I tutted, “And - you’re dismissed.”

            If it weren’t for the guards, the man would’ve most definitely put up a fight. They held his upper arms, pulling him away from us, and in the process, stripping him of the glistening badge that was mockingly strapped to his arm. “I’ll get rid of you - you, bitch. And I swear, you’ll regret this.” He shouted, fingers pointing at my direction.

            I could hear Zuko growl under his breath, ready to unleash his wrath, but I spun on my heel, letting my hands rest on his chest. “It’s not worth it Zuko…” I mumbled, and in a flash, Zuko’s focus shifted to me.

            For the first time since the whole ordeal, I breathed.

            My hands were shaking, body trembling with rage.

            I can’t believe it. They actually sought out other women for Zuko. Am I that bad? Am I that-

            “Love - you alright?” Zuko whispered, his hands brushing up my neck and cupping my face. Am I alright…? I nodded meekly, shooting Zuko a weak smile, “Y-yeah. I’m tired…I-I think I should go to bed.” I mumbled, biting my lower lip.

            His gaze softened, a frown painting his face, “No, you aren’t. I’m sorry, if I knew they were going to do this I would’ve intervened-”

            “D-don’t worry about it Zuko; it’s not your fault. My head is hurting, and you’re right. I need to rest…” I spoke with a muted voice, and Zuko’s grip on my face tightened, “I’ll go with you, make sure you’re tucked in-”

            “Zuko.” I huffed, cutting him off. He tensed at my tone, and I didn’t blame him one bit, as I surprised myself. I sound weak - tired. “I’m fine Zuko, you and the gang have so many things to do. I’m not in shape to help out, no matter how much I want to. We know that…”

            Zuko’s forehead pressed into mine, his eyes closing as he breathes out.

            “…I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be. But…” I trailed off, earning a curious look from Zuko.

            I let out a small laugh under my breath, smiling light-heartedly, “Please kick those women out. It’s going to be impossible for me to sleep, knowing there is a herd of women trying to steal you from me.”

            “Don’t be; you know you’re the only one.” Zuko cooed, and I shined against his soft touches. “I know…but for their safety; I advise you move them.” And at those words, Zuko grinned, “Is someone jealous, love?”

            “I don’t get jealous; I’m territorial.” I teased, reciting the famous line Zuko muttered to me that one time. And the mischievous statement didn’t go unnoticed. He roughly pulled me forward, planting a chaste kiss on my nose as Zuko chuckled.

            “Fuck, I love you.”

            “I love you too Zuko, now go. I’ll be fine.” I hummed, pulling away from his sweet embrace. His touches weakened, letting me walk out of his grasp before I turned on my heel. The gang watched on the sidelines, unsure of what to say at this point, so I spoke first, “I’m going to rest, I’m ill, and it’ll probably be for the best…”

            Sokka glowered, walking forward as he grasped my arms, “You sure Princess? That man said some pretty rude things…”

            “I’ve dealt with worse, Sokka, the world is a cruel place after all.”

            “And that’s why you always wear the sweetest smile – because you know,” Sokka muttered under his breath. A statement that would have gone unnoticed if I wasn’t paying as much attention as I was. “Feel better Princess. Love you.” Sokka sighed, pecking my forehead quick before stepping back.

            I bid a quick goodnight to the others while walking towards a pair of guards – two individuals who I knew all too well.

            “I didn’t think you two would be here.” I laughed, staring at the two young gentlemen. Even with their helmets on, I could see the way their pink lips curved upwards. They had beautiful smiles, their pearly white teeth beaming back at me. “It’s weird seeing you anywhere besides my bedroom doors,” I mentioned, earning light laughs from them.

            “It’s nice to have you back, Imperial Consort, we missed you.” They spoke, and I blushed at their encouraging words. I love the staff.

            We walked side by side, them pulling open the doors to the Kingdom. The hues of red, the rich scent of firewood and spice, all things I’ve learned to call home – despite the rough welcoming. People who spotted me waved gleefully, bowing before dashing off to whatever task they had.

            While I smiled back, waving happily, my mind was elsewhere.

            I would never question Zuko’s love for me – it was evident. The way he gazed at me or the sweet love confessions he whispered late at night…he loved me. But- My fingers twirled around each other the further we walked, bottom lip trembling.

            I questioned my self worth at times...

            All the insecurities I’ve long thought I had in check were suddenly hitting me full force. It was frustrating, continually feeling like I’m not good enough. But maybe I’m not? He said that many people had issues with me and if that’s true…

            “Imperial Consort?”

            My eyes widen, sniffling and wiping my cherry red nose. I’m crying.

            “S-sorry, my head hurts, please, don’t worry about me.” I forced, smiling through my tears as convincingly as I could. But the two men looked at me, stopping their movements. I stilled, viewing them with confusion, “What’s wrong? I said I’m fine. I’m just tired-”

            “He’s wrong…” The guards mumbled under their breath, and I puckered. “He said that people had an issue with you being Fire Lord Zuko’s consort, but that isn’t true…” I let out a sigh, waving away their words, “Don’t worry about that, really. It doesn’t bother me at all.”

            “But it bothers us.” My voice fell silent, surprised to hear them talking as much as they did. No matter how many times I tried to speak to them, they were often quick and short discussion, as if they were afraid to talk. But now…they were speaking freely.

            “You know, you’re the first royal ever to greet us? Acknowledge our existence? You know maids and guards by their names, their family stories, and what they enjoy. You make us feel human.” I was speechless. Made them feel human? Was it strange for me to greet the staff? It was common etiquette. To think that people disregarded them.

            “You may not score high with the royals, but you do with the people. And Fire Lord Zuko knows that is far more important than a silly hierarchy system.” A quiet pause fell between us, letting their words sink in.

            The world was cruel to me.

            I lost everything and had people walk all over me. Sokka was right; I smiled as brightly as I did because I knew first-hand how wicked people could be. And if a single smile could brighten someone’s day, I’ll smile all day.

            “…you really think that?” I whispered, and they grinned.

            “The day we call you Queen will be the greatest honour bestowed upon us.”

 ~ Fire Lord Zuko ~

            Deep breaths Zuko.

            One more woman. That’s it. You can do this.

            Just politely tell her to leave and-

            Her snake-like hands slithered its way up my arm, nails scratching my skin, the abrupt gesture catching me off guard. My skin rose, a chill running up my spine at the vile touch. It felt like poison, skin burning at the unwanted contact. There wasn’t a single ounce of decency in this woman’s behaviour, forcing my arm between her chest, trying desperately to show off her cleavage.

            “Are you sure you don’t want to spend some time with me?” The lady droned, batting her eyelashes obnoxiously while licking her lips. “I bet I can change your mind if you give me a few minutes. I know how to please a man.” She whirred, trying, but failing miserably, to sound seductive.

            “Oh, do you? That’s great; you can start by getting the fuck out of my office.” I snarled, ripping my arm out of her grasp. Her face reddened at my response, stomping forward with her hands on her hips. “Do you know who I am?” She screeched, whipping her hair behind her ear for extra emphasis on her current discontentment.

            “Yes, you’re a spoiled royal who is leaving!” I shouted, temper flaring as I gripped her shoulders, shoving her towards the door. Just a few more steps-

            “How dare you! You should be honoured. I’m a gift!”

            A manic laugh escaped my lips, rolling my eyes at her response, “Sorry, I don’t accept cheap gifts.” My hand hastily ripped the door open. She turned on her heel, mouth wide, ready to hurl another insult. But before she could, I slammed the office door shut; her dreadful voice muffled by the heavy door.

            I let my body crash.

            Fuck.

            Me.

            My eyes shut closed, running my hands exasperatingly through my tangled locks. Never, in my whole life, have I ever so desperately wanted to take a bath, and scrub my body to the bone. I could still feel her lingering touch on my skin, and I shivered - I could vomit.

            I shoved myself off the door with much effort, the muscles that I so proudly worked on seemed useless at the moment. There was a reason why the gang left me, “Don’t worry Zuko, we’ll figure things out while you deal with the mess here. We got you.”

             ‘Got me’ my ass.

            They didn’t want the pleasure of kicking out desperate women who would jump at the chance of being the future Fire Nation Queen. I knew I should’ve let the guards handle it, but I didn’t. I had to go and try to be a nobleman, be gentle and sensitive, and break the news to them that I am in no need of a ‘new consort.’ Since when do I care and acknowledge such feelings?

            I swore, I already knew the answer.

            Damnit Yue, before you, I didn’t care a single bit about emotions, and suddenly I’m a damn expert about them. Without thinking twice, I strolled to the corner of my study, seeing the various bottles that lined the glass shelf.

            Whisky, where is it?

            My fingertips grazed the array of selection; blended, bourbon, rye…

            My eyes lit up, scotch.

            I snatched the bottle, letting the dark liquid pour into a glass, the strong scent of alcohol flooding my nostrils. The bitter liquid touched my lips, and a groan escaped me – smooth. A faint burn carried down my throat, as I drank, and for the first time today, I felt like I could breathe.

            The sun was setting, casting strange shadows along the walls. The room looked like a tropical haze under the setting sun, more than half the day gone in a flash – and the only productive thing that happened was me kicking out a bunch of women from my office. I stole another sip from my cup, walking towards my study.

            Stacks of paperwork piled on the wooden desk, and I let out another grunt.

            My body dropped onto my cushioned scarlet chair, finding an odd sense of comfort sitting behind this desk, with my pens and inks ready for use. And the moment the feeling of coziness hit me, I chuckled under my breath. Yue is right – I’m a workaholic.

            I slid my glass off to the far corner, after stealing one last sip, letting my tired eyes scan the documents that flooded my desk — approval of new policies, revision of Fire Nation citizenship requirements, taxes, civil dispute cases.

            “Paperwork. How I missed you.” I grumbled, before re-organizing the documents.

            I knew I had to finish some of this work tonight, but the urge to leave to check up on Yue was eating me alive. She looked sick; I could tell just by her eyes. The way she struggled to stay focused, skin pale and cold to touch. But more importantly – she looked hurt.

            The fucking rage I’m going to unleash on the council tomorrow. My fingers wrinkled the flimsy document in my hand, annoyance getting the best of me — complete idiots. The papers slipped through my hands, forming another mountain to be tackled tomorrow.

            Tossing paper after paper into pointless piles, I couldn’t help but look for that one specific document. I asked Iroh to deliver it…did he forget? I huffed, not seeing the report at all. Maybe I do not see it; it has to be-

            “Fire Lord Zuko?” A soft voice spoke, catching my attention.

            My head snapped upwards, noticing a maid politely bowing, peeping out of the study door. “Yes?”

            The maid glanced over her shoulder before facing me once again. “There are some people who wish to speak to you…” She whispered, and I frowned, “Who?”

            “I think it’ll be better if you see them for yourself, Fire Lord Zuko.” I nodded tentatively, standing straight and fixing my appearance. The door shut briefly before creaking open once again. What in the world-

            Six figures dashed inside, wearing red gowns, the badges they wore on their arms, reflecting whatever sun was left. My eyes narrowed, they have some fucking nerve-

            “And what reason do you have to be in my office, council?” I hissed.

            My arms crossed over my chest, staring at the six individuals who humbly bowed in front of me. Their hands laid over their upper body as they greeted, voices merciful. “We mean no disrespect with our presence-” An elderly woman spoke, standing at the front of the small crowd that had gathered in the study.

            “You sure? Since it appears, the basic concept of respect is not found within the council anymore. Insulting the Imperial Consort, making us appear as fools.” I shouted. They slowly rose from their deep bows, grimaces painting their faces as they listened to the lecture that was about to rain down upon them.

            “Fire Lord Zuko – we had no part in that-” She attempted to reason, and I scoffed. “No part? Then what brings you all here? I’m in no mood to deal with you all - not after that superb performance.”

            “This.”

            The elder reached into her robe, a brown file in her grasp.

            “Where did you get this?” I snarled, eyes furiously scanning the paper. Her arm outstretched towards me, letting the document fall into my hands. Iroh was supposed to drop this off to me-

            ‘Lifting of traitor status – General Axe.’

            “She’s just like him, you know…sympathetic…generous…” She spoke, voice trailing off. They knew – they knew who Yue was all this time. Mihir was right about people recognizing Yue; I should’ve taken his warning seriously.

             “Fire Lord Zuko, you need six signatures from the council to lift a traitor status, which you’ll find inside that folder. Eight, signatures, in fact.”

            I couldn’t form words, opening the file hastily.

            She’s telling the truth.

            Eight unique signatures, written with fresh black ink, dated.

            It was done, Axe’s traitor status was lifted. A process that should have taken weeks to complete was done in a single day. Should Yue’s father be alive, if we find him, I could protect him. I could bring her father back, with no consequences.

            “Why?” I whispered, shutting the document in a single motion, staring at the six individuals who stood in front of me. I had eight signatures, two people are missing- “I knew Axe, personally, just like the destruction your father unleashed.” She started, everyone sighing heavily, remembering the war.

            Fire Lord Ozai – a monster. He viewed his soldiers as disposable and people of other Nations as a waste of space. She was one of the few people who worked under his rule and continued working into my term. Who would’ve thought she knew who Axe was? Clearly, Yue’s father was popular amongst the royals.

            “I think you’re well aware of who, on this council, still reason with his philosophy.”

            She rose a brow at me, and I nodded. “We dismissed one of them today,” I muttered, and she chuckled under her breath, the wrinkles around her eyes becoming prominent. “That feistiness you saw today – that was from her mother’s side.”

            “If you knew who Ying Yue was, why didn’t you speak up earlier? You knew from the start that she was a Waterbender-”

            “That is untrue, Fire Lord Zuko. Majority of us were unaware of Ying Yue’s history. If it weren’t for two council members and your Uncle, no one wouldn’t have known.” A man spoke up from behind, his hands interlocked together in front of him.

            I’m a fucking idiot.

            I swore under my breath, turning on my heel as I let my hands slam the desk. Of course, Uncle Iroh would’ve known who Ying Yue’s father was. He served in the military, knew the ins and outs like the back of his hands. Why haven’t I thought of that before? So focused on the mess that was unfolding before my eyes, I missed the obvious.

            “Fire Lord Zuko, you may have dismissed one troubled soul, but there are others who are itching to find an excuse to get rid of Ying Yue, and potentially, you.” She spoke, her extremely calm tone carrying throughout the study.

            “By signing these papers, you’re trying to prove where your alliances stand, I can assume?” I questioned.

            They all looked at each other before nodding slowly. “We can’t go back to those dark ages. Those false followers of yours are trying every means to impeach you. The moment Iroh told us you were submitting a change of status regarding Axe, we knew it was time for us to intervene.” I nodded, tempted to steal another drink at this point. It was one less thing to worry about on my list, and I found my fingers tracing the document – Axe.

            “If there is anything more we can do for you Fire Lord Zuko; we will do so without hesitation.”

            “Thank you. It is much appreciated, and I respect your loyalty.” I hummed, turning to face the bunch. They all wore sheepish smiles, gazing at each other before stepping back. “We will show ourselves out. Have a pleasant evening, Fire Lord Zuko.” They muttered under their breath before bowing deeply.

            One by one, they left, everyone heading into a different direction the moment they stepped outside. As if the impromptu meeting had not happened. The eldest lady of them all, the one who spoke the most gave me a warm smile. Her hand rested along the door frame, looking over her shoulder, brown eyes scanning the document on the desk.

            “Are you going to retire early, Fire Lord Zuko? Deliver our Impending Queen the good news regarding her father?” I let a small smile sneak up on my face, “Not yet, I have a few things to settle first before I deliver the news.”

            “If the rumours are true, Mihir will find him.”

            My eyes widen at her comment, and she let out a sad sigh, “I couldn’t tell you if Axe is indeed alive. If I could, I would. But if there is one person who could find him, it’s Mihir.”

            “Did you know her mother too?” I questioned, leaning against my study with crossed arms. She let her wrinkled hands brush some grey hairs behind her ear, strands that escaped her tight bun.

            “I did. Kasa Jiang. You know, you would’ve thought she was the Firebender and Axe was the Waterbender.” The lady laughed. Her eyes shinnied brightly, remembering all the fond memories she must have shared with them. But, if she knew them as well as she did…

            “Axe, he was an only child, I couldn’t find any relatives besides his parents. But what about Kasa? Did she have any sisters or brothers…” I inquired. The lady nodded, letting a finger rest on her chin as she pondered.

            “She did, a younger brother. Poor thing, he was a child when Kasa left the Northern tribe,” My heart pounded hearing her words.

            Kasa had a brother.

            Yue had an Uncle.

            “Kasa loved him dearly, but with the war, and her skills in healing, she had to leave him behind. Axe told me they built another room in their house so Kasa could bring him to the Earth Nation…poor thing most likely doesn’t even know what happened to his sister.”

            Did Yue know this – that she had an Uncle, somewhere in the Northern tribe? I frowned, scratching my head. Fuck, if it were anyone else, I would’ve assumed no, but Yue was a family person. Knowing her, she would’ve asked her parents about their family – that was just how she was.

            “Fire Lord Zuko…is everything alright?”

            Her shaky voice caught me off guard, nodding my head like a madman. “Y-yes. My apologies. I think some rest would do me some good.” I muttered under my breath, and she nodded despite studying me with anxious eyes. “I agree…I’ll let myself out. Have a pleasant evening, Fire Lord Zuko, give my regards to our Impending Queen.”

            The doors shut, and I found myself locking the documents into my desk, briskly blowing the candles. The room dimmed, as I rubbed my eyes tiredly, walking out with heavy steps. The sun was almost hidden at this point, the Moon making its presence known. The door shut behind me, bidding my goodnights to the guards as I walked down the hallways.

            My mind was buzzing – and not because of the damn whisky. Although the urge to go back and finish the glass was tempting at the moment. Yue has an Uncle, and the thought made me tense. Could their relation explain Yue’s peculiar bending skills?

            The way she healed was strange, and it’s evident there was some secret regarding that aspect of her bending, especially since Aang threaten me if I tried to dig any further. Even Yue’s affinity of ice. The way she manipulated water – it was something I have yet to witness.

            Beautiful – but chilling.  

            Nothing about this seemed right. And the more I thought, the more I remembered. Azula’s words were on replay in my mind, haunting my thoughts; the mother’s side is far more interesting…Everything was too coincidental, and something I learned during my reign was that there were no such things as happy accidents.

            What are the chances that Azula comes back alongside Yakone? A man who we’ve been aimlessly searching for with a vengeance? Azula wouldn’t work with someone else; unless they had power and something to gain. Yakone had power – but what was she gaining from this? And then there’s Mai-

            I groaned to myself, realizing where I was heading to without much thought. I need to speak with Uncle Iroh, what else was that damn tea-loving senior hiding from me? But what about the gang? Another grunt escaped me. Fuck.

            My feet stopped moving, ready to turn on my heel. They said they had everything under control – that Suki and Toph will figure out Mai while Aang and Sokka talk with the military officials - fuck it.

            All sense of duty and responsibility left the fucking premise, my feet moving with one goal in mind. My eyes spotted the two guards out front, shooting me smiles and bowing, “Evening Fire Lord Zuko.”

            “Evening, is Imperial Consort Ying Yue inside?”

            “Indeed, she’s resting. The nurses looked after her; nothing more than a cold.” I nodded at their words before pushing the doors open. The addictive smell of flowers and vanilla danced in the air, a stupid smile appearing on my face.

            Home sweet home.

            There she was – blankets messily wrapped around Yue’s body, teddy bear tucked under her chin. A deep chuckle rumbled from my chest as I stepped closer, taking in the magnificent sight in front of me. “Why am I not surprised?” I mused, taking note of the fact that she stole, yet another, shirt of mine.

            My fingers ran along her silky legs, pulling the blankets and covering her. “Even in your sleep, you tempt me,” I mumbled, letting the sheets fall over her waist. She fell asleep on my side of the bed, a first I believe, but I was by no means complaining.

            I flicked my fingers, lighting the candles on our nightstands, illuminating the room. And as I lazily rolled up my sleeves, unbuttoning the front of my robe, I found myself staring.

            She’s beautiful.

            Sitting on the edge of the bed, I grasped her hand tightly with mine, thumb rubbing her palm. The feeling of her skin against mine left me breathless at times. But it was more than just that – I could spend hours relishing, admiring, every detail about her down to the last beauty mark.

            The feeling of her lips against mine, or the way her hair tangled between my fingers.

            The sweet vanilla scent that always lingered on her skin, or the soft giggles that sounded like music.

            I rose her hand against my lips, letting a content sigh escape. “I love you…” I mumbled against her skin, planting soft, delicate kisses. Her mere presence had me relaxing, ready to take a bath and sleep. I can worry about everything tomorrow. For now…I want her.

            “Zuko?”

            My eyes opened, noticing Yue pouting. Her golden eyes fluttered open as she let out a whine. Fuck she’s adorable.

            “I-I thought you’ll still be working- what time is it?” She hummed with a sweet smile on her face. Her eyes were no longer hazy, her natural glow shining through. She looks ten times better than this morning. “I let the gang handle it. I wanted to be here, love.” I muttered, letting my lips press against her hand, basking in her touch.

            She nodded, watching me intently as I relaxed, “Zuko…can I ask you a question?”

            I opened an eye, nodding slowly. Her mouth opened and closed, her cheeks flushing, and I grinned. “What’s got you so flustered, love?” I teased. There was something about seeing Yue squirming, to shy to speak, but unable to contain herself. She bit her lip bashfully, staring up at me with those big innocent eyes of her. “You’re going to laugh.” And at that statement, I did.

            “Come on; love. Tell me.” I cooed, planting another kiss on her finger. The pink on her cheeks turned to a red, and with a rushed voice, she blurted.

            “Why did you kiss my hand when we first met?”

            My eyes widen at her question – something I was most certainly not expecting. I let our hands fall onto the bed, staring at her face. “W-well? I know kissing the hand isn’t a Fire Nation custom, so…” She integrated.

            “You want the truth?” I mumbled.

            Yue nodded.

            “I don’t know, but fuck - it felt right.”

            “Did you ever regret it?” She asked, curiosity dripping from every word she spoke. I smirked, leaning forward, letting my breath tickle her lips. “The only thing I regret is kissing you on the hand when it should’ve been your lips.”

            Yue purred under her breath, lacing her hands in my hair, “You could make up for it now, by kissing me.”

            I chuckled darkly, letting a lone finger trail under her chin, “But here’s the problem, love.” I groaned, tilting her head, just enough for her lips to press against mine, “if I kiss you now, I won’t be able to stop.”

            “Who said I wanted you to stop?”

            Her lips pressed against mine, and I let myself drown.

            If love is madness – fuck sanity.

Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

[a65232-joshywoshy]

  Colorado Crybaby

Chapter 5

     It was dark before they knew it. They had just sat and talked for hours. Halfway through the afternoon, they had ordered pizza and ate it. After eating and talking all afternoon the two were too tired to do anything else. 

     “I wish I didn’t have to go home.” Penny looked genuinely sad. She didn’t want to go back to her apartment. She really loved Rachael’s house.

      “Then don’t. You’re coming back over here tomorrow, right? Just stay here.” 

      “But I don’t have clean clothes.”

      “You’re about my size, right? You could borrow some of my clothes.”

      “Hmm.” Penny pretended to measure Rachael’s clothes, trying to guess if she could fit into them. “I guess so. So we can have a sleepover! Yay!”

      “Yay!” Rachael was excited. Her friend was going to spend the night. “Hey. I didn’t finish showing you the rest of the house yet.” Rachael had gone so long without a friend coming over to her place to visit.

      “I guess we got too busy talking.” Penny slowly worked to stand up. “I’ll definitely want to use that big bathtub you told me about, though. I am gross.”

      “Yeah. I can smell you from over here.” Rachael teased.

      “While we walk, tell me more about your ABDL side. We didn’t get into that very much. We kinda ended up jumping to other things.”

      “Oh. Well, um...” Rachael jumped up and showcased her kitchen.

      “You have a nice kitchen. You’re stalling, though. Walk and talk, girl.”

      “Okay.” Rachael looked at the floor. “I’m more on the AB side, I guess. It’s fun to be little. I spent this whole last week hating myself for this, but you were right. What exactly did you say? You said, like...”

      “Don’t hate who you are.”

      “Yeah. That’s it. Check out my office.” Rachael gestured to the empty room. 

      “I saw you hating yourself at work. And I still love that chandelier. I saw how… your light was out. You were just on full autopilot all week. ‘Yes ma’am’, ‘no sir’, ‘I’ll prepare that report right away’.”

      “It was great, right?”

      “Sweetheart, no. I know you. You always have that… that personality in your work. You have that flair in all your interactions. I didn’t see that. I’m so glad I’m here with you, getting to see you cheering up. Please don’t be a robot again.”

      “Oh.” Rachael thought back to the week previous. Every task was executed well, but Penny was right. She had lost her usual flair at work. Her week-long effort to be more adult had turned her into a drone. 

      “Kid, I know you hate what happened in Anaheim, and yes, you should probably be a little more careful with the things you bring to work, but… one bad experience should not extinguish you like that.”

      They stopped in the upstairs hallway.

      “Rachael Corsten. You are my best friend and I love you. Please, don’t beat yourself up just because some neanderthals can’t handle your truth. Yes, you’re ABDL. But you’re also a strong, confident, independent woman who knows how to handle herself.”

      Rachael wanted to argue about what her ABDL side has done to her over the years. But she knew that wasn’t fair to say about herself. There was a calm that swept inside her. It seemed to flow from Penny. As Rachael stood there in the hallway, she knew she should feel upset, but she didn’t. Still looking at the ground, she told Penny, “No one’s ever told me that before.”

      “Told you what, sweety?”

      The calm was slowly being replaced with something else inside Rachael. It was a positive feeling. Glee, she thought. Penny had complimented her and it felt amazing. Not only that, but Penny just reassured her that ABDL and proper adult behavior could coexist. 

      “No one’s ever told me that I’m an adult and ABDL in the same sentence. Like, I’ve always known that, but, hearing it out loud… makes it real, I guess. Like I have the ability to feel that way now. Like I’m not at odds with myself now.”

      “That’s right, girl. Yes.”

      They wandered into the master bedroom.

      “Can I get my pajamas now?”

      “Oh! Yes. Sorry.” Rachael laughed. “Distracted.”

      “That’s fair. Can I use your soap?”

      “Of course.”

      “Thanks.”

      Rachael started searching for pajamas while Penny sat on the bed and looked around the room. 

      “Girl, you need a mirror in here. A full length mirror. That dresser mirror is too high up for you. I’m not even that short and it’s too high for me. Weird.”

      The mirror was mounted on the back of the dresser, but the dresser had 5 drawers below it, instead of the usual 3 or 4. It almost seemed like the dresser was designed with a taller person in mind. When Penny stood in front of it, her reflection stopped at her elbows.

      “There’s a lot of touches like that in this house. Weird furniture and features. Did you look in the closet in here? It’s some kind of work bench, apparently. I’m sorry. Your PJ options are either ‘Baby’ or My Little Pony.”

      “Ooh! My Little Pony, please.”

      “You’re not embarrassed to wear My Little Pony PJ’s? I know I’m embarrassed that that’s all I have for you to wear.”

      “It doesn’t bother me. Time for me to get clean.”

      “It takes a minute to get warm.” Rachael watched Penny walk into the bathroom, then thought about what exactly she was watching. She had been unintentionally looking at Penny’s butt. She didn’t mean to. Her eyes just naturally directed themselves towards it. Penny hadn’t noticed, and the door was closed now. Rachael was slightly embarrassed, having just stared at her co-workers butt. Even more so for staring at another girl’s butt. She was straight, she thought. She turned on the TV. It was still on The Weather Channel. Adult. I’m an adult. Cool. But also kind of a baby. Yes. Both. At once. Together. The weather was going to be nice for their shopping trip tomorrow.

      “Well, they’re a little snug on me.”

      Before Rachael had realized, Penny had finished her bath.

      “Your bathtub is AMAZING, by the way.”

      Penny opened the bathroom door and Rachael looked up from the TV. Penny had squeezed into the pajamas. The shirt wrapped snugly around Penny’s breasts and the shorts seemed shorter now, as they stopped at the top of her inner thigh.

      Rachael stared. Penny looks great in my pajamas. Her thoughts kept getting stuck, though. When her eyes traced over Penny’s chest or hips, her brain just paused. It took in every curve and stretched seam of the outfit. The last time someone wore clothes that fit this snugly, it may have been funny. This wasn’t funny to Rachael, but it wasn’t serious, either. The clothes… just looked great. Rachael’s attention was pulled back into the bedroom.

      “Rachael.”

      “Yeah? What?”

      Penny snickered. “I said your name 3 times.”

      “What? No. You just said it once.”

      Penny noticed that Rachael’s eyes were once again focused on her chest.

      “Oh, sweetheart. This makes sense with what I’ve seen before, and it’s now confirmed.”

      “What makes sense?” Rachael fought hard to keep her attention on Penny’s face. She still didn’t understand why focusing her attention was so hard.

      “Rachael, you said you had a boyfriend before, right?”

      “Yeah, I did.” 

      “So you’re straight?”

      The implication brought Rachael’s attention back to normal. 

      “Yeah. I’m... oh... Oh.”

      “Sweetheart, I put on some tight pajamas and you just lost your mind.”

      Rachael started to get embarrassed. 

      “I, um, I… but you, I mean…”

      “And now you’re stuttering,” Penny laughed and went to sit on the bed. “Yep, I’m calling it now. You’re Bi.”

      “I mean, but,”

      “And it’s also been a long day, so why don’t we go to sleep now.”

      “Yeah, sleep... Why can’t I make words?!” Rachael was beginning to get frustrated that Penny’s body, the body she had seen for the last several years at work, seemed to be doing this to her suddenly. 

      “You’ll calm down in a little bit, I’m sure. I definitely want to learn more about this tomorrow. My girl Rachael is bisexual? Oh, yes. I am loving the front row seat to the inner workings of Rachael. Yes.”

       “Yeah. We go sleep now.” Great. Now I’m babytalking. Rachael was even more embarrassed.

       “Oh, yes. You are so adorable right now. You don’t even know. Are you going to change, first?”

      “Oh, right. Pajamas.” 

      Rachael started to take her clothes off to change. Her brain didn’t register that her co-worker was in the room still. She was given a task and an internal instinct commanded her to carry out the task above all else.

      “Whoa! I know we’re getting to know each other better, but…”

      Rachael’s mind caught up to the situation and her face turned bright red with embarrassment. 

      “I’m so sorry I’m so sorry.”

      Rachael rushed to the bathroom and closed the door. She quickly did her business and changed. A fog slowly started to lift from her head. She had just tried to strip naked in front of her co-worker! What was I thinking?!?! But she wasn’t. She couldn’t. After seeing Penny in such a form fitting outfit, a chain reaction had started in her head that turned Rachael into mush. She finished up in the bathroom, then slowly, sheepishly walked towards her side of the bed.

      Penny started to get under the covers and motioned for Rachael to do the same. Rachael had no hesitation about following Penny’s suggestion. It’s almost as if Penny was controlling her right now.

      “You’re so blushy right now, sweety.”

      Rachael slowly slid under the covers. She faced away from Penny. Penny’s attention was locked on Rachael now.

      “Are you okay, Rachael? I didn’t break you, did I?”

      “I’m…” Rachael cleared her throat and took a breath. “I’m good. My brain is super fried right now. Let’s just, uh, sleep. And forget any of this ever happened.” Rachael pulled the covers over her head.

      “Aww. Poor blushy thing. Get some rest. We have A LOT to talk about tomorrow. And these pajamas are mine now. They apparently have magic powers.”

      They both snickered at that and began to wind down to sleep. Penny was asleep in minutes. Rachael stayed awake just a little longer. She lay awake listening to Penny breathe while she slept. It was slow, quiet and rhythmic. Rachael felt like it was foreign, yet it was somehow also a soothing lullaby for Rachael. The two slept soundly all night long.