#at work i keep hearing golden hour on the radio and it reminds me of you

[diagonal-queen]

wife texted. depression gone

@gettinshiggywithit 💞💞(thank you)

[sanarsi]

Cheri Cheri Lady

stepfather!Reed Richards x f!Reader

Summary: Your stepdad fucks you on a sun lounger. Warnings: +18, MDNI, porn with a little bit of plot, professor!Reed (only mentioned so it’s not that important), age gap, daddy kink, fingering, nipple play, praise kink, unprotected PIV, creampie Wordcount: 2,5k An: This is especially for @joelssluttyknee (I’m sorry it took me so long). Not exactly professor vibe but still hope you like it :) Also, I want to thank you for 1k followers. Like— it’s kinda crazy how this blog grew so fast in such a short time. Love y’all and thank you so so so much!!! Music I worked with: Cheri Cheri Lady - Modern Talking

Masterlist

Warm days have finally arrived. Your weekend lounging on a deck chair has become a routine, and after a while, not just yours.

It wasn't even noon yet when you were adjusting your sunglasses, sipping iced tea, and listening to the radio in the background. A gentle smile appeared on your face as you noticed out of the corner of your eye your stepfather turning from his stomach to his back.

He only lasted one weekend of watching you through the kitchen window before he decided to join you every time under the pretext of ‘I turned pale and looked unhealthy’. Your mother obviously believed it, why wouldn't she? Reed was the epitome of a perfect husband and stepfather, and your mother was happy that you two were finally getting along again.

If only she knew how exactly the two of you got along…

“I’m going to the store, do you want anything?” Her voice echoed from somewhere in the direction of the house.

You didn’t even glance in her direction before you shouted back, “Nah, we’re good.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Reed, take the chicken out of the freezer.”

“Sure, honey,” he replied, raising a hand to let her know he understood, in case she hadn’t heard him.

Just when you thought she had left because the silence was getting longer, she spoke again, "Remind your father to use sunscreen."

You rolled your eyes under your closed eyelids and sighed quietly.

"I've already done it twice."

"So do it a third time."

Like a martyr, you bent down to the grass for the cream, knowing your mother was watching everything. You didn't want to risk her wrath because ever since she started menopause, she had been unbearable.

“Apply it or you’ll burn yourself,” you said and placed the tube on his warm chest. He hissed at the sudden thermal shock, at which you started laughing and you could have sworn that you heard your mother snort quietly.

"Hag," he muttered under his breath.

"I'll be back by one." After a moment, her retreating footsteps could be heard, but before she left the house, her muffled scream rang out, "Chicken!"

Then there was only the slam of a door, the sound of an engine starting, and a large, warm hand on your thigh.

“You hear that?”

“Hm?” you murmured questioningly, even though you knew very well what he meant.

"We have an hour," he announced, allowing his hand to start moving towards your crotch. You flinched, pretending that you were actually shifting in the lounger, and sighed.

"Yeah, I don't know if—"

"Come to daddy."

You fell silent, feeling a hot flame bloom in your lower abdomen and looked to the side, immediately locking eyes with him. You loved teasing him but when he spoke to you in that tone and looked at you that way, you couldn't keep your guard up for long. His fingers tightened almost against your temple and you barely managed to keep from moaning.

“Come on, sweet girl.” He smiled encouragingly, nodding towards his thighs. You bit your lower lip, gaze sliding down his golden skin that was gleaming slightly from the sunlight.

You were shocked at how quickly he became the most handsome and attractive man in the world for you. Even though at first you resisted everything that was happening between you two, you quickly realized that it was pointless because Reed simply didn't give a shit.

You could be mad at him, tell him he's disgusting, that you should end it, and he never once took your words seriously, ended up fucking you on the desk in his office after class.

His hand tightened on yours, snapping you back to reality and pulled you gently towards him. You didn't even try to resist and just sat on top of him. You settled comfortably and he gladly helped you, using his fingers to massage your hips.

“Hi, daddy,” you started, immediately stepping into your favorite role.

“Hi, baby.” His smile was priceless.

At first, you were skeptical about this role-playing. It felt weird calling him that, considering your situation – he really was your father.

Well… stepfather.

Still, that's what your mother called him.

Help your father make dinner.

Father needs help in the garden

Go to the store with your father.

But surprisingly, it came easily and you started to enjoy it pretty quickly, and when you did, Reed was in seventh heaven. Sometimes you even called him dad in front of your mother, who was touched by it and he, who was turned on by this.

Then he liked to punish you for arousing him in the presence of that woman.

“You look so pretty in that pink swimsuit.” He hooked his fingers around the tie at your hip and slowly tugged on the string, letting the piece of material reveal your pussy.

“Thanks, I got it as a gift from my dad.”

“Hm,” he hummed, stroking your soft skin and watching, hypnotized, as his fingertips traveled down, getting closer to your core. “Your daddy knows what color perfectly highlights those sweet tits.”

Arousal hit your lower abdomen like a bucket of cold water. You sighed, shifting on his thighs, giving him the perfect opportunity to let his hand disappear beneath you. You shivered as you felt his thick fingers running along the length of your slit.

“Look at you, already so wet for daddy,” he purred in satisfaction and moved closer, pressing his lips to your neck. You moaned, closing your eyes and throwing your head back as he began to tease your hole so that more of your juices would wet his fingers. Wet kisses began to decorate your skin as he slowly made his way to your breasts. “Give me that sweet cherry. Need to taste her.”

You looked down with your mouth parted and slowly pushed the material covering your tits aside. Not even a second had passed before it was in his mouth. You watched as his tongue circled the hard nipple and he sucked it in with a purr. His fingers slowly entered you deeper, sending a wave of shivers every time he curled them. Soft moans began to leave your lips and you allowed yourself to play with his hair to somehow ground yourself and not drown in the pleasure.

“Daddy…” you sighed, slowly rubbing your hips.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, without breaking away from your tit. You shuddered as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh.

“Need you, daddy. Please.”

“My big girl needs me?” You nodded eagerly, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning louder. “Want daddy’s cock?” He finally looked at you and you couldn't help but smile widely.

He loved seeing you like this, loved making you carefree and happy. He would sin if he left you to your fate.

"Mhm," you hummed, hugging him tighter and moving closer, impaling yourself more on his fingers. An uncontrollable moan escaped your throat because his two fingers were definitely enough to make you lose your breath.

Reed smacked his lips disapprovingly as he saw the small frown forming between your brows. “So thirsty.”

He reached his other hand down to his shorts and squeezed his hard cock. A soft growl escaped him as he slowly began to pump himself through his pants.

"Daddy's already so damn hard for you, baby. Need to feel that sweet little cunt throbbing all over my cock."

You howled, feeling more aroused by the fact that he was touching you and himself at the same time. You fell silent, staring at each other with eyes filled with desire. His cock hardened every time you rode his fingers, moaning softly. He loved hearing the sounds that left your lips when he pleasured you. Your clit began to throb as you chased your fulfillment but Reed had other plans for you.

He pulled his fingers out of you, which was met with a whine from you. “Daddy, please…” you begged desperately to feel him inside you.

He looked at you with pity. “My poor little thing,” he smacked, gently stroking your cheek. He wanted to tease you some more but then he felt your juices dripping down his thigh and he barely held back an animalistic growl. “Fuck. Come ‘ere baby.”

He quickly slid his shorts down enough to pull his cock out. Your mouth watered at the sight of his glistening precum as it slowly dripped down his length. You immediately lifted your hips and moved closer to him. He held one hand around the base and the other caressed your thigh.

“Sit down,” he ordered without taking eyes off your pussy. He didn't have to tell you twice.

You slowly lowered your hips, allowing his head to slide inside and gasped before letting all your weight fall against him. You both moaned as your bodies were able to connect again after a few days of being apart. He wanted to enjoy this feeling but you didn't give him a chance, starting to rub yourself against him. His cock smoothly teased your cervix and happy trail your clit.

"I missed you," you sighed with a lazy smile and moved closer, resting your forehead against his. He hissed as you tightened around him.

“I missed you too, baby girl.”

He gripped your hips, helping you speed up your movements. You dug your nails into nape of his neck and your moans dying in his mouth as he kissed you deeply. His lips tasted even better than last time, and even though you were riding him, your desire only seemed to grow.

You responded to his wet kisses with commitment and started to lift your hips a little so that you could fall on him and let him painfully but pleasantly penetrate you. Reed was breathing heavily, a throaty groan leaving him each time he buried himself inside you to the very base.

If you could, you would try to take him deeper so his balls could also experience the feeling of being inside your warm core. You were horny for him and didn't even try to hide it, which only gave him more pleasure.

"Easy, baby, we have an hour, not ten minutes, and that's how long I will last if you don't slow down,” he warned, amused by how eagerly you were jumping on his dick. Not that it bothered him, he just wanted to enjoy you a little but you obviously had other plans.

“Can’t. Need you so bad, daddy,” you squealed in desperation. Reed rarely saw you like this, so he figured that this once, he could give you exactly what you needed. He hugged you and started to rub your back soothingly.

“Then maybe daddy can help you a little, hm?” he suggested and you honestly had no idea what to expect because despite his warm tone, there was a dangerous sparkle in his eyes. But you were too desperate to think about it, let alone care, so you nodded eagerly.

“Yes, please.”

That was enough for him to reconnect your lips in a kiss and his arms wrapped around you way too tightly. You sucked in a breath as you realized he was trying to immobilize you. You whimpered impatiently and let him shift slightly beneath you. Just a few inches was enough for the angle at which he entered you to make your hips tremble. You had time to get used to the new feeling and get everything you could from it, but that wasn't the point and you found out about it quite aggressively.

“Hold still,” he threw before he started to thrust his hips up.

Hard.

You opened your eyes wide, gasping for air as he entered you with aggressive movements and slowly pulled out. The moans started to become more like cries each time he entered you harder, deeper.

“Fuck— Daddy!” you screamed, clinging to his neck and bit your lip hard, trying to hold back your animal sounds.

Reed was too focused on fucking you to care if you were getting oversensitive.

Until safeword didn’t leave your lips, his mind would drift and his primal instincts would take over. He was just a man who had the exclusive possession of a wet, tight pussy whose owner he loved like crazy.

“Shh, just need to remind this sweet little hole ‘bout good manners,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “She clearly forgot that sucking daddy's cock like that is very selfish of her.”

You squealed louder and clung to him tighter as the burning sensation began to turn into the ever-increasing waves of an approaching orgasm. The sound of flesh slapping flesh and wetness of your cunt when his cock entered you was mind-blowing.

"Daddy just wanted to enjoy you a little and here you are, so greedy and needy. Not nice, baby. Not. Nice,” he smacked his lips with disapproval. You could barely catch your breath, let alone understand his words, but you knew he wasn't pleased because with each word he thrust into you harder and harder.

“Gonna come,” you managed to say.

"Oh and now you're gonna cum without my permission? What a naughty girl."

After these words you felt him playfully hit your cheek. You whined like a wounded animal as his cock sent the last waves of pleasure into your core before you disintegrated in his arms. You started to tremble as you milked his cock and he just laughed with satisfaction.

“That’s right, baby. So beautiful when you cum all over daddy’s cock,” he praised you and pressed you harder against his chest, letting himself ride out his orgasm. “Want me inside?”

His whisper against your ear sent another wave of shivers down to your core. You clenched around his cock, earning a heavy pant from him in response.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Attagirl.”

Then it was just your hypersensitive throbbing pussy and his seed flowing out of you as he continued to thrust until he came down from his peak, panting heavily.

You lay helplessly on his chest, bathed in sweat and sun. His heart was beating hard, you could feel his strength on your cheek. You spent a few minutes in silence, calming your breaths and every now and then, his lips found their way to your forehead, placing gentle kisses there while he stroked your hair.

The exhaustion was taking its toll, you were fulfilled lying comfortably in his arms bathed in warm rays. You didn't need anything more for your eyelids to start getting heavy.

"I would let you sleep like this but we have to make dinner before your mother gets back," he said with a soft smile which earned you a tortured groan in response. You sat up and looked down at him before you placed a few more soft kisses on his lips.

"Yeah, okay," you nodded, getting up from the lounger and started to fix your swimsuit. Reed stood up right after you and slapped your ass before heading home. You looked at his bare back and felt like a hungry animal watching his muscles work.

This man was going to be the death of you and that was for sure.

[donteattheappleshook]

She Came From the Water (Something that washed up...)

Blame @the-darkdragonfly​ for this....

Summary

Between his dissatisfying job, a constant battle to keep seeing his daughter, and a history of mistakes, losses, and broken dreams, Killian Jones has no place for magic in his life. But when he pulls in his fishing nets one evening only to find a woman caught in them, his life becomes infinitely more complicated. Is she a siren, a selkie, like his daughter believes, or just another lost soul like himself? Suddenly, his life is a thing of fairytales; beautiful women hidden away in cottages, selkie husbands coming back to claim them, and, just maybe, a chance at happily ever after.

A Captain Swan AU based on the film Ondine (2009) for the @captainswanmoviemarathon

Rated M

Read it on Ao3  (because the italics work there) or Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

******

The Changeling

The baby’s scream cuts through the night, pulling Killian from the first deep sleep - or almost deep sleep - he’s had in over twelve weeks. His heart jumps in his chest, as it does every time, pounding rapidly against his ribcage in terror before he remembers and the panic settles into a groan of exhaustion. This is the second time tonight. But that’s not unusual.

Opening one eye he looks over Emma’s shoulder to see the old clock-radio on the bedside table: 3AM, the witching hour. He has to be up in an hour for work and he never realized just how precious a single hour of sleep could be until they brought their son home from the hospital and he was robbed of every attempt at a full night since. 

He’s exhausted. Always exhausted. Alice hadn’t been a perfect baby, and he remembers those first months when it was just the two of them, before Eloise took her away, when he was frantic and dead on his feet most of the time. But it had never been like this. 

He’d spent night after night in the one room of his cottage, his daughter on the mattress next to him, tucked snugly in a cocoon of pillows he’d built out of fear of rolling over in his sleep and crushing her. He couldn't afford a crib then, but he also couldn’t stand letting her sleep in a drawer like her mother had. 

Still, he woke up throughout the night, just to make sure she was breathing, that she was real and alive and he hadn’t ruined her like he did everything. And every time, Alice slept soundly - prefering to have her screaming tantrums in broad daylight where everyone could hear, and look, and judge as he shuffled through the aisles looking for baby formula. But at least then, he’d been able to sleep.

His son is not so inclined. Liam came into the world and apparently decided he didn’t like it one bit and insisted on making his displeasure known at all hours. He cried all the time. Morning, night, noon, he was almost never silent apart from the few sporadic hours he would cease his screaming to briefly shut his eyes. 

They’d taken him to the doctor, several in fact when they didn’t get anything helpful out of Whale. But they’d all said the same thing. Colic - He’s perfectly healthy - Some babies just cry - There’s no rhyme or reason to it - You’re not doing anything wrong - He’ll grow out of it eventually. Kilian is starting to doubt that last bit. 

Sighing at the early hour, he presses his nose into the long golden mess wrapped in his arms that’s pretending to still be asleep. “It’s your turn,” he grunts, voice heavy and cracked from sleep - or lack of it. She continues her pretense. “Swan,” he chides, begs, breathing the words against her neck. After a moment, another wail piercing the air, she stirs, her groan near a whimper. 

“It’s not my turn.” She sounds so tired and helpless that he almost caves then, but his body protests so viciously to the thought of getting out from under the covers that he holds firm. 

“I got up at midnight,” he reminds her. 

Another pathetic whine. “And I stayed up feeding him after you went back to sleep.” 

“And then you woke me to put him back in his crib.” There’s a pause where Liam is quiet, and for a fleeting moment he thinks that maybe neither of them will have to get up. His hopes are dashed by the particularly fierce cry that follows it. 

“I pushed him out,” Emma says finally. “You go pick him up.” 

Killian groans again. He’s tempted to remind her that he has to go to work today, but knows that she’ll be stuck at home with a screaming baby while he gets a brief respite on the water and thinks better of it. They’d both stayed home at first, Killian not wanting to miss a moment of Liam’s first few months and Emma still recovering from the delivery, David insisting she take as much time as she needs, that the budget could cover the mat leave. He suspects Mary Margaret had some influence there. 

He also knows she’d probably like nothing more than to go back into the Sheriff’s office and spend her days patrolling town rather than cleaning baby puke out of her hair. But as kind as Nemo had been in giving him time away, he’d eventually told Killian he had to come back. The older man had been guilt-ridden when he’d called, but his hands were tied; there was only so much he could do to bend policy. As nice as the quiet is though, he hates not being there, misses the chaos and the noise… until he gets home anyway. 

With great effort, Killian forces himself up, rubbing at bleary eyes with thumb and finger, the early-winter chill hitting him as soon as he slips from under the blanket and his feet touch the cold floor. “When are you going to stop using that argument?” he asks, reaching out to brush some of her unwashed hair out of her face. 

Emma nuzzles further under the comforter. “When you push out a baby the size of a watermelon.” 

He’d laugh, almost does, but he’s too tired. “That’s not fair, love. I can’t do that.” 

“Then I guess you’re shit outta luck,” is her only answer, mumbled against the fabric of her pillow. He does laugh that time. Perhaps, he thinks, squeezing her shoulder and seeing her breathing even out already, but he considers himself pretty lucky.

The floor is freezing, all of the rugs collected and scattered over the floor of Alice’s room so they could get her to actually leave her bed in the mornings for school. He makes a note to remember to ask for slippers for Christmas this year. 

Walking across the small living room and kitchen to the extension they added shortly after their wedding, after finding out Emma was pregnant - we’ll have to build two rooms, she told him coyly. It took him a moment to catch on, to gather her up in his arms and swing her around as a confusion of  joy and fear he’d never experienced before hit him all at once. Alice is already outside the baby’s room when he gets there, looking sleepy and cranky. 

“He’s crying again.” She doesn’t understand the explanations they give her, that there could be no reason for his heartbreaking screams. In truth he doesn’t really understand it either. 

“I know, starfish,” he says gently, running a hand through her hair which now stands a full head taller than it did a year ago. “You go back to bed, all right? I’ll be in soon to tuck you in.” 

Alice listens begrudgingly, a grumpy, “I told you we should have gotten a dog,” muttered under her breath. He almost laughs at that too. She’d been extremely disappointed to learn she was going to have a baby brother and not a puppy as she’d expected when they sat her down and told her they had exciting news. 

The cries grow louder when Killian opens the door, crosses to the crib and leans over to place a hand on the infant’s small chest. How such giant lungs fit in such a small body is a true wonder. “Hey there little banshee,” he breathes softly, the nickname given by his sister in malice having unfortunately stuck. “What’s got you so upset tonight?” 

Sliding his arms under the blankets, careful of his head as Alice always likes to remind him - I kept you alive, didn’t I? - he scoops the little bundle up into his arms, the screams muffled slightly against his neck as Liam’s fingers grip fiercely at the front of his shirt. It had only taken one unbreakable death grip on his chest hair for him to start wearing a shirt to bed every night. 

“I know,” he coos gently, rubbing the baby’s back in an attempt to soothe him. “I know. Everything’s terrible isn’t it? It’s so hard to be little and not be able to tell us what you want. At least we know you’ll have a hell of a voice when you do,” Killian continues to murmur, words not really making sense but it’s three in the morning and nothing makes sense right now. “I know,” he hushes softly. “You want your mumma don’t you?” Liam’s cries have settled from full out screams to a hiccupping weep as Killian brings him out into the living room. 

“But you need to give your mum a break sometimes,” he continues to explain as though the baby understands. “She needs to sleep and so do you. And so do I,” he admits, making his way through the near pitch-black room by memory. “Do you think you can do that, love?” Liam gives an angry shriek in answer. “All right, we’ll talk about it in the morning,” he concedes, nudging open the door to their bedroom. 

“What are you talking about in the morning?” Emma asks, sitting up as little as possible and unbuttoning the front of one of her stolen shirts. “We’re married now. What’s yours is mine.” “That’s not how the expression goes, darling.”

“The usual. Stock market. Climate change.” 

She reaches for the baby, a hint of a smile on her drained face, and brings him to her breast. “Oh?” she hums softly to the finally quiet infant. “Is that what you’re gonna do? Are you gonna go out and save the world?” Liam, of course, doesn’t answer and she draws a finger over his cheek, his eyes falling shut as he drinks. 

“Or are you gonna be an artist like your daddy?” she continues, the way she smiles at their son tugging at Killian’s heart. He laughs whenever she calls him an artist, the drawings he does for Alice scattered over the walls of the little girl’s room, Emma’s own drawing of him still tucked away in his bedside drawer. “Or an anthropologist like your sister?” 

“Maybe he’ll join you at the sheriff's station,” Killian suggests and she snorts. 

“Hard to sneak up on the bad guys if you’re screaming all the time, kid. We’ll have to work on that, okay? Where are you going?” she asks when he stands. 

“He woke Alice. I’m gonna tuck her back in.” 

“Poor thing. I’ll call the school in the morning, let her sleep in a bit.” 

Killian nods, kisses first Liam’s head then hers and heads back to their daughter’s room. He nudges the door carefully, making sure she’s not asleep already before he goes inside and risks waking her again. 

“Has he stopped?” Her little voice carries from under the handmade quilt, a gift from Granny, blue waves with ships, mermaids and pirates painstakingly embroidered on every square. Killian pushes the rest of the way in. 

“Aye, for now.” 

“Do you know why he’s crying?” she asks, turning over to face him as he sits on the edge of her mattress. 

“There’s no reason, love. It’s just what babies do sometimes.” 

“Lucy has a baby brother,” she argues defiantly, referring to a friend at school. “And he doesn’t cry all the time. She even brought him to show and tell.” 

Killian winces at the thought of Alice bringing Liam to show and tell, the chaos his inconsolable screams would cause. He’s never been out of the house apart from the hospital, both of them too tired to go out to friend’s places and his wails too big of a risk for a short trip to the store or Granny’s. Alice has complained that they don’t all go anywhere together anymore. He hopes they will soon. 

“Everybody’s different,” is all he can offer as a platitude and it falls short. 

After a moment, Alice sits up, wide eyes finding his in the dark, serious and excited like when they go searching for fairies or she helps him dock the Jolly. “I know what’s wrong with him,” she says with the kind of confidence that’s reserved exclusively for eight-year-old girls.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, stifling a yawn and she nods quickly, folding herself over the side of her bed to reach for something under it. She drags out a massive book, one from her most recent library pillage. Seeing her struggle to lift the heavy brick of pages, he reaches down and helps her bring it up onto her lap. She flicks on her bedside lamp and Killian winces at the intrusive light, knowing he’s definitely not going back to sleep now. 

“Here,” she says when she’s flipped through to the page she’s looking for. 

She turns the book over to him and Killian tries to squint at the writing, to indulge her when he can, knowing that the attention Liam requires can sometimes leave her overlooked, and hating it. The words are too small for him to make out this late with the dim light, but he can see the images of fairies and children dispersed among the blocks of text. When he looks up at Alice her expression is expectant. 

“I think he’s a changeling,” she explains fervently, her voice just above a whisper, as though someone other than him could be listening. 

“What’s that?” Killian frowns, his mind too tired to keep up. 

“A fairy baby.” 

He smiles softly at her but doesn’t mock. “Sweetheart, Emma and I were both there when he was born. You brought him home from the hospital with us. There wasn’t a fairy in sight.” 

“I know that,” she says in that tone of hers that’s just shy of calling him an idiot. “I’m not talking about that baby. My brother isn’t a fairy. This baby is,” Alice explains looking towards her door as she says it. 

Killian tries not to sigh. He just wants to go lie down. Or at least have some really strong coffee - he’s switched from tea after so many sleepless nights - and enjoy the last few moments of silence he’ll have before Liam wakes up again. “That baby is your brother.”

“No, he’s not. You’re not listening!” she insists, frustrated with him now. “Changelings are fairy babies that are swapped out for human babies. They sneak in in the middle of the night and steal the human baby and leave one of theirs in its place. Look,” she continues, pointing to a place on the page. “Changelings cry all the time, they’re always hungry no matter how much you feed them, and they look like little old men.” Alice looks back up at him as though she’s proved her point and he has to fight back laughter. 

“Love, you’ve just described all babies.” 

She pouts then, upset. “You’re not listening.” 

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re making fun of me.” 

“I’m not- ” he starts, then sighs. He takes the book from her lap and sets it back on the ground. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard being woken up all the time and the house being so loud. It’s not fair.” Killian rubs a thumb over her cheek, the dark circles under her eyes pronounced in the lamplight. “Do you want to spend a few nights with David and Mary Margaret? Have a sleepover and some quiet? I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

“That’s not the point!” she hisses in that anxious whisper. “Dad, we have to get Liam back from the fairies before it’s too late. If you bring the changeling to them they have to return the real baby!” 

Killian knows he can’t argue his way out of this. “Alice, remember when we talked about how some things from your books are real and some are just make-believe?” 

He hadn’t had the heart to tell her that all the fairytales are made up, that the mythical creatures don’t exist - still doesn’t. She’ll learn that on her own one day and it’ll break his heart to see it happen. He wants her to keep believing as long as she can. But after what happened on the pier that day - the day he saw his whole world disappear under the black waves and that he thought the sea had swallowed the last of his happiness - he’d had to make her understand that not everything she reads is real. 

Alice nods begrudgingly. 

“This is one of those things, okay? It sounds like changelings were made up to explain sick babies when people didn’t have the means to understand what was wrong.” She doesn’t look convinced but some of the fight leaves her. “Liam is your brother and he’s okay and right here with us. He’ll stop crying eventually. And in the meantime,” he continues, lifting the covers so she’ll lay back down under them. “We need to get as much sleep as we can whenever we can.” 

Alice settles back down onto her pillow and Killian pulls the blanket up over her shoulders, her brow still pinched in a frown when he presses a kiss to her temple. “Stay in bed as long as you want tomorrow okay? We’ll let your teachers know.” She nods. “I love you,” he adds.

“I love you too,” is her muttered response and he knows she’s not satisfied with his answer but he can also see the way her eyelids are drooping. She’s asleep again before he shuts the door. 

He finds Emma buried back under the covers, curled on her side and he comes around to crouch on the floor next to her. She blinks her eyes open slowly, not asleep yet and smiles at him. “Hey.” 

“Hi,” he smiles back, kissing her gently. “Liam back in his crib?” He asks only because once or twice she’s fallen asleep with him cradled next to her like a teddy bear when she was too tired to walk him to his room. Emma nods as he traces his fingers over her own. 

“How’s Alice?”

“Tired,” Killian answers honestly and she sees his own concern mirrored in her eyes. “She thinks Liam is a changeling,” he adds with an amused brow raise. 

“As in a fairy baby?” He looks at her in surprise. “I know things,” she defends. 

“Apparently.” 

“Are you coming back to bed?” she asks, the fingers he’d been playing with lacing through his. 

He shakes his head, kisses her knuckles. “No, I have to be up in an hour anyway. I’ll take the morning shift and you go back to sleep. At least one of us should get some.” 

Leaning in, he presses a kiss to her lips, her mouth soft and welcoming beneath his. It doesn’t matter how much time they spend together or apart, how little sleep they get or how much he learns about her past; she’ll always be the siren he pulled up in his net and she’ll always feel like being called home. 

Before he can pull away, her fingers untangle from his own, hand coming to his cheek and dragging him back when he breaks the kiss. He goes willingly, smiling against her lips as she explores them with her own, tongue slipping out to tease and sending his pulse soaring. Killian gives a soft groan, hand slipping to her waist as she opens under him and he lets himself taste her, swallow the little sound she lets out when he pulls her closer. His body screams at him to rest, but her pull will always be stronger than any other and it wins out. 

She breaks away only enough to speak, breath hot against his lips as her own brush against them with every word. “Or, I know a way we could both not sleep and still get some.” Killian chuckles. It’s terrible and he knows she knows it is, the little smirk betraying her. 

“Swan, are you trying to seduce me?” He kisses her again, rising up off the ground and she sits up, slides over to make room for him. 

“Shut up, I’m out of practice.” 

Climbing onto the mattress he slides under the cover and over her, settling in the space between her thighs and enjoying the way her legs hug his hips, keeping him there. Speaking against the skin of her neck he tells her, “We both know you never needed practice.” From the moment they met she’d been the shore he’d happily run himself aground and every day spent with her since has only proven that he’d been right in crashing into her. 

“Good answer,” she breathes, fingers tangling in his hair as he drags his lips and tongue down over her breasts, careful where she’d grown overly sensitive. ‘This is bullshit!’ she’d cursed the first time she’d jumped back in pain from a touch she’d always begged for, anger blown out of proportion by frustration and hormones until she’d been crying. He’d had to hold her while she calmed down. ‘And they’ll never be this big again!’ she sobbed. ‘What a waste.’

Unbuttoning the rest of her - his - shirt, he kisses the still rounded curve of her belly she’d grown so self-conscious of in the weeks after having Liam. ‘You’re perfect, Swan,’ he’d insisted every time. ‘You have to say that. You want to get in my pants.’ ‘Aye, no matter what size those pants are.’ 

He teases kisses along her thighs towards her center and feels her hand on his shoulder, tugging at him so he raises his head, letting her drag him back to her mouth. Emma pushes at the hem of his shirt, seeming determined to get it off without allowing any space between them. Pulling away long enough to yank it over his head and grinning at her annoyed ‘hey!’ he falls back over her, happy to let her use him however she pleases. 

He let his fingers slide over the length of her side, nails grazing along the soft skin of her leg to her knee before starting once again in his quest she’d so rudely interrupted. She gasps into his mouth when he dips them between her thighs, hardening painfully at how slick she is already to his touch, realizing why she hadn’t needed his attention before. 

Raising a cocky brow at her she tries to roll her eyes but the gesture is undermined by the way they squeeze shut and her back arches when he slides his thumb over her, lip catching between her teeth. 

“It’s the hormones,” she forces out through ragged breath, a small moan slipping free when he touches her again. He smirks. 

“You’re nearly past the point where you can keep using that excuse,” he warns against her jaw. “Pretty soon you’ll have to admit that it’s simply my charm and striking good looks that leave you so desperate for me.” 

“I’m not… desperate,” she manages to groan out as he works her slowly, already recognizing the familiar rolls and waves of her body, that beautiful selkie song he’d fallen in love with building even as she tries to silence it. He catches the lobe of her ear between his teeth, pulls back and searches her face until she looks at him, eyes heavy-lidded and losing themselves to pleasure. 

“I am,” he tells her, not hiding the truth of it, not as if she didn’t already know. “Always,” the word falling from his lips like a confession. He has been since the day he pulled a bloody selkie up in his net. Desperate for her in every sense of the word and he watches her expression soften, some of the pleasure ceding to the love that’s always there beneath it. 

Emma takes his face in her hands, kissing him hard and deep until he shifts over her. Regretfully pulling his fingers free of her heat he steadies himself so he can help as she begins trying to shove his sleep pants down his hips. Killian kicks them off somewhere at the foot of the bed, not caring where as she immediately pulls him down against her, reaching for him and taking him in hand. 

He lets her guide him, slides in painfully slowly, watching the way her brow pulls down and her eyes fall shut at the feel of them finally joined. He takes his time, hips coming together in long, slow drags, her lips at his neck making him shudder and tense as he tries to make it last, knows she doesn’t need him to, already fluttering around him, trying to pull him over the edge with her. 

His thumb tugs at her chin, freeing her lip from between her teeth, knowing he can’t hear her when she falls apart, not with a baby and an eight year old just down the hall, but not willing to have her be silenced. He slants his mouth over hers, letting her cry out against his tongue, swallowing her pleasure and tasting her climax when she shatters around him. 

She takes him with her, his siren, always dragging him under to drown in the waves that roll through them, his own release gasped into her shoulder, teeth pressing into the skin between it and her neck as he tries to contain his cry. 

They lie together after in the rare, blissful silence, legs tangled, her fingers tracing through the hair on his chest, Killian’s thumb tracing the line of her jaw, along her lips, as they wait for their breathing to settle. He has an alarm, he thinks as his eyes grow heavy again, her own already blinking slowly. He can sleep for a few minutes, can enjoy a moment of peace with his wife before real life has to start again…

A small cry pierces the air, Emma’s eyes snapping open before squeezing shut in dismay. Then again, maybe not. He tilts his head, kisses the tip of her nose and forces himself to roll out of bed and into his pants, off to see to his little banshee. He doesn’t miss her grateful, ‘love you’ muffled against the sheets as he slips out of the room. 

***

When Killian wakes up the following morning it takes him a moment to realize what it is about that fact that has him so unnerved. The clock reads four in the morning. It’s his day off, but not unusual for him to be up so early. The sun won’t be up yet so late in the year but the sky still tinges a soft gray in anticipation of it. Emma is there, wrapped around his back, her face pressed into his shoulder blade; Alice will still be asleep for another couple of hours. It’s one of those quiet, peaceful mornings, a lazy one, and he debates letting himself fall back asleep, it’s so rare that he gets to after all…

He darts up, inhaling sharply as realization hits him. Killian doesn’t get to sleep in, at least not for the last three months, not since every single night he’s been startled awake by the sound of a screaming baby. He was up at midnight, he remembers that, but Liam’s never gone five hours without making a sound. Immediately panicked he rushes out of bed, across the cottage to his son’s room, practically sprinting to the crib, not knowing what he expects to find, not knowing what possibility has him so scared. But it’s empty. 

“Liam?” he calls, as though the boy could answer. “Liam?” he searches under the crib, around the room in case he fell out or rolled. Nothing. Alice. Maybe Alice has him. When they’d first brought him home she’d tried to help in the mornings, wanting to be the one to take him out of his crib and change him. That had stopped quickly when he’d started keeping her up all night. 

“Alice,” he calls, knocking softly on her door as he opens it. He calls her name again when she doesn’t answer and goes in. But there’s no one there, another empty bed and it takes everything he has to keep the paralyzing panic from overwhelming him, leaning into the adrenaline racing through his veins as he rushes back out, shouting Emma’s name.

She comes out of their room, bleary eyed and a little annoyed, but when she sees his face she’s suddenly alert, rushing over to him. “What’s wrong?” 

“They’re gone.” 

“What? Who?” It only takes a moment before he sees her panic, looking into Alice’s empty room and then running to Liam’s. He knows she’ll find it just as empty. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where the hell are they?”

“I don’t know!” The only time he can remember being this terrified was that night that feels so long ago now, when he’d come home to find Alice at the kitchen table, kept hostage there by the people he hated most in the world. But they’re gone now, dead, both of them, he has to remind himself. 

“We have to find them!” Emma nearly shouts, running to the front door and flinging it open, not seeming to notice her bare feet as she continues out onto the frozen earth, looking around frantically. 

He’s right behind her, hurrying back through the main room to grab her coat that hangs over the back of the kitchen chair, already pulling his phone out to call David when he sees it. A note. Pink construction paper left on the table, large curling letters with stars over the ‘I’s scrawled out in marker. 

Goin to get Liam bak. Dont wory. Killian stares at it in disbelief, Alice Jones signed carefully at the bottom of the page. 

Snatching it up he runs to the door. “Swan!” She’s halfway down the lane and he has to shout a second time to get her to look back at him, waving the note for her to see. “I think I know where they are!” She runs back faster than he knew she could. 

“Killian?” he hears the voice faintly over the phone. David. He hands his wife the crumpled paper explaining everything to his friend in rushed sentences as he grabs his boots and Emma’s, somehow having the sense to grab some blankets from the couch before darting out the door and into the old car they bought just before Liam was born. 

“I think I know where she is, but can you send someone out? Get people to search the woods…” He swallows, “and the beach?” 

Alice can swim now. So can he. Killian had made sure they both learned after he nearly lost her to the sea and was powerless to help her. But the water is freezing this time of year. She knows better, he tells himself. He knows she does. But she’s also determined to prove him wrong, to fix things, to prove that she’s right. And there’s not much that can stop his daughter when she sets her mind to something. She wouldn’t go to the water, he reasons. That’s not what she’s looking for, that’s not where she thinks her brother is. 

“I’m on it,” David promises, and Killian hangs up as Emma climbs in the passenger seat. 

“Where are they?” 

“The fairy glen,” he answers, starting the car. “Alice said that if she gives them back their changeling they’ll give her back her brother.” 

“Shit,” she hisses, then shouts, “Shit! How long have they been gone?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, hating that that seems to be the only answer he can give her. She’s perched literally on the edge of her seat, hand on the dashboard as though she can make the car go faster by sheer will. He’s already driving faster than he should. “We’ll find them. I promise.”

“They’re together,” Emma says then with certainty, turning to look at him. “She wouldn’t leave him, not without getting her brother back. And even then, she wouldn’t leave a baby to freeze - or a fairy.” 

She’s right, he tries to assure himself as they reach the long winding road that will take them to the old Mills estate. Alice won’t even let him kill spiders, she wouldn’t let Liam get hurt, changeling or not. But what if she got lost, what if she got too cold out in the field waiting for fairies who would never come?

When they reach the end of the laneway, Emma is out of the car before he can stop it fully, running to the top of the hill and looking around below. He catches up with her there as she shouts ‘Alice!’ into the still dim light. 

“Alice, sweetheart, where are you?” she calls again as he scans the little bit of the field he can make out in the dark. 

“Alice!”

He hears a soft cry, one he recognizes immediately after having been woken up by it so many times, followed by a quiet, “Dad?” 

“Oh, bloody hell,” he sighs in relief as they both half run, half slide down the hill. He calls her name once more and then sees her, standing from where she’d been sitting in the grass, Liam tucked against her chest, zipped into her parka a blanket around them both. “Thank god,” he chokes, taking his first full breath in what feels like forever as he drops to his knees in front of them and pulls them into his arms. They’re both alive, they’re cold, but not freezing, Liam warmer than Alice for being so wrapped up. Emma reaches them a second later, doing the same, checking them both, face tear-stained. 

“Give him here,” she says when Liam lets out another whimper and Alice lets them pull the baby from her coat, Killian zipping her back up quickly as Emma cradles Liam to her chest. “Are you okay?” she asks the girl who nods, looking down at what Killian now sees is a little fairy house, the kind they usually make together, and what he figures is a little fairy crib, fashioned out of sticks and a leaf. 

“They didn’t come,” she says quietly, sadder than he’d expected. He wishes he could be patient, but the adrenaline and the fear are somehow still racing and fading at the same time and he feels both exhausted and wound up. 

“Come on, love, get in the car and we’ll go home,” he says, standing and reaching for her hand, but she steps back. 

“We can’t go. They still have Liam.”

“Alice…”

“We have to wait until they bring him back!”

“Alice, get in the car.” 

“We can’t leave without my brother!” she shouts. 

“That’s your brother!” he shouts back, his usually firm grip on his temper snapping as he points to the child wailing in his mother’s arms. “Right there! He’s not a bloody changeling, he’s a baby that you could have gotten killed tonight taking him out in the cold like this! You could have gotten yourself killed - Both of you could have frozen to death! Did you even think of that? Did you even think at all?” 

“But, I -” she starts, shrinking from him even as her shoulders square. 

“Alice! Get in the bloody car!” 

She jumps at the same time as he feels Emma’s hand on his arm, a careful “Killian…” drawing his attention to her. And it’s so familiar, that day on the docks when he’d nearly slipped back into the man he used to be, Swan’s hand in his holding him back from taking that step. He looks back at his daughter. Alice’s eyes are wide as she stares at him, watering as her lip begins to tremble.

He reaches for her, the anger gone as quickly as it came. "Alice -" but she jerks away from him, face screwing up before she takes off in the direction of the car. His heart drops. He’s never yelled at her before. He looks between her and Emma, helpless, overwhelmed with guilt. 

“Here,” she says gently, handing Liam over. “I’ll go. Give her a minute.” 

He can’t do anything but take the squirming baby from her and nod, watching as she goes after Alice, waiting until she’s made it over the top of the hill to follow, baby tucked into his jacket. When he reaches them he can hear Emma’s voice, soft over the little girl’s hiccups and shaky sobs. 

“Dad was just scared, sweetheart. People say things they don’t mean when they’re scared. He thought he was going to lose you,” she soothes, wiping her tears away even as more take their place. “He didn’t mean to yell.” 

He comes closer, heart breaking at the sight of his daughter so upset because of something he did. “Alice,” he tries and her gaze snaps up to him, still crying but with an anger and an anxiousness behind it now that’s never been directed at him. 

“No!” she cries again. “I don’t want you; I want my mum,” she sobs, words broken up by the little shaky breaths she tries to take to stop her tears. 

For a moment Killian feels like he’s been punched in the gut, thinks that she’d rather go back to Eloise than be with him after so long fighting to get her here. But then he sees the way she’s clinging to Emma, the way she turns into her after she says it and he realizes it’s not Eloise she’s asking for. 

He knows she saw it too, her eyes reflecting the same mix of pain and tainted happiness that he’s sure are in his. Alice has never called her mum before… and this is the worst possible way it could have happened. 

***

The drive home is long, the quiet overwhelming. Even Liam sleeps soundly and Killian can’t help thinking that he’d give anything for the baby’s cries to break the silence this one time. Killian keeps glancing at his daughter’s reflection in the rearview mirror. She’s stopped crying but the tear tracks on her cheeks and the sullen way she stares out the window is a sharp reminder of how much he hurt her. 

He doesn’t think he was wrong, not in sentiment. What Alice did was reckless and irresponsible. But he shouldn’t have yelled. That was how his father parented - at least before deciding to abandon his children altogether - how Killian swore he never would. 

“Are you mad at me too?” he hears, Alice’s voice small and quiet through the crack left open by her bedroom door once he’s put Liam back in his crib. 

“No, hon, nobody’s mad at you. We’re just glad you’re both safe.” 

“Dad is.” 

There’s a pause, Emma taking a slow breath. “Dad got mad and he shouldn’t have yelled. He knows that.” He wonders if she knows he’s out here listening. “But you shouldn’t have taken off in the middle of the night. You know better.”

“I was trying to fix it - so that everything could go back to how it was before and we could go out on the boat again or to Granny’s and you could both be at school…” she trailed off. Killian hung his head remorsefully. He’d missed a science fair last month. Both hadn’t been able to go, not with Liam crying the way he was. She’d won a prize. “I wasn’t going to hurt him,” she says then, choking on fresh tears.

“We know that - of course we do,” Emma assures her. 

“I kept him warm, and I wore my hat like Dad always says to.”

“I know you did.”

It’s a moment before she speaks again. He can hear the sniffles as she calms down, or tries to. “I don’t like that he’s sad.”

“Who? Your dad?” 

“Liam.” Emma doesn’t answer, the sound of sheets rustling telling him she’s probably pulled the little girl into a hug. “The fairies aren’t real, are they?” she asks then and Killian shuts his eyes in dismay. It’s too soon; she’s too young to grow up. “Magic isn’t real.” 

He trusts Emma to handle this. He knows she’ll tread carefully. But he wants nothing more than to go in there and fix things, hug his daughter, tell her magic is real, and he hates that she wouldn’t want him there. 

“Maybe not the way it is in the storybooks,” Emma finally answers. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not real.” Another pause, this one weighted. “I grew up a little like you did. I didn’t have a family and my foster parents weren’t always very nice. Except I didn’t have a dad who loved me like you do, so I stopped believing in happy endings a long time ago.” 

Killian’s heart clenches in his chest, every detail he learns about Emma’s childhood always stirring anger and helplessness within him - that kids like she and Alice had to go through that, kids like he and Liam, that there’s nothing he can do to change it. 

“But then your dad found me, and I got to meet you and now we have all of this. I get to be your mom and Liam’s mom, and you get to be a sister. I think that’s pretty magical.” Alice is quiet and he wishes he could see her face. “We’re a family, Alice. Families fight, but we forgive each other and we always love you. No matter what.” 

“So you…” a small sniffle cuts her off. She sounds years younger than she is when she asks, “You still want to be my mum… Even though you have Liam now?”

“Of course I do.” There’s no hesitation in her answer, not betraying the shock or the hurt that he’s sure she feels, he feels it. 

“And Dad?”

“Dad too. He loves you. And Liam. He’s got a big enough heart to fit both of you.” 

It takes everything he has not to go inside, to walk down the hall into his own room. Because he’d missed it - he’d missed the fact that his daughter was scared they wouldn’t want her anymore now that they had a new baby. He should have known, tries not to take it personally. She’s spent most of her life with Eloise, a mother who made it clear that she was a nuisance, unwanted, kept around because she was useful in the vendetta against her father. And they’d only had less than a year together, of real stability before her whole world was turned upside down again and a new child was in the picture. It’s no wonder she’d think she was replaceable, that parents’ love was conditional. 

“How much of that did you hear?” Emma asks, leaning against the doorframe. He looks up from his seat on the mattress, pulls his head from his hands.

“Most of it,” he sighs. “Thank you for talking to her.”

“She’s my kid too,” is her answer, arms crossed over her chest and chin raised even as he can see the small hesitation flicker across her expression. 

“Aye, she is,” he confirms, banishing the doubt from her eyes. 

She softens then, crossing the room to stand between his knees, taking his face in her hands and tilting it up to look at her. “She’ll be fine. She just needs some time to be upset.”

“With me, you mean. How long will that last?” The question is rhetorical but Emma answers anyway. 

“Well, she gets her moodiness from you.” Her little smirk has the corner of his lip twitching before it falls, wondering what else she inherited, what ways he and Eloise may have damaged her. “Hey,” Emma says, drawing his attention back. “She gets all the good things from you too.”

He sighs again, sliding his arms around her hips and resting his forehead against her stomach. “I messed up.”

“You got angry,” she corrects. “That’s not a crime and it’s definitely gonna happen again with a kid as free-spirited as Alice. And her brother will probably be the same… but worse because he’s got some of me in him too,” she chuckles. “We’ve only been at this for a year, babe. We have so much more screwing up to look forward to.” His laugh is more of a groan. “We’ve just got to make sure they know someone loves them.” 

Killian pulls back, raising his head to look at her and sees that far away feeling in her eyes that haunts her sometimes, creeps along the edges of her happiness and threatens to drag her down. And he’s there every time to pull her back to the surface. Just as she did for him. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t have that growing up.” She looks down at him, that brave, beautiful face she puts on when she’s not ready to talk about something, pretending it doesn’t bother her. “You do now,” he promises. 

“I know.” Her smile is wobbly as he turns to kiss the wrist of one of the hands resting on his cheek.

“Good.” 

“Think you can sleep?”

“Probably not.” 

Her reaction is sympathetic, then mirthful. “Great, so you won’t mind getting up for the next feeding?” 

He huffs out a small laugh despite himself, squeezing her side and holding fast when she tries to squirm away giggling. Grabbing the back of her thighs he pulls her into his lap, settling her legs on either side of him. Emma’s arms fall around his shoulders, grinning at him, radiant and gentle despite everything that happened tonight. 

“Aye, love. I’ll wake with the lad.” 

Killian reaches a hand up to tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck, pull her down enough that he can press his lips to hers. He kisses her chaste and soft, just enough to let some of the light she carries flow through him, let her breathe life back into his lungs as she has so many times before. The look she gives him when they break apart tells him she knows exactly what he was doing. 

***

As expected, Killian is still awake when Liam begins crying a few hours later. The sun is up now - it had still been dark when they got home. It’s a rare day on the island, the clouds having abandoned their near constant sentinel across the sky, the light shining down into the room and turning Emma’s hair that golden hue that always glinted like the waves when they were out on the water. 

Careful not to wake her, he leans over, places a kiss on her shoulder and rises from the bed. By the time he reaches the hallway, however, the crying has quieted, a low whimpering rather than his usual morning shrieks. Treading carefully in case it was a false alarm, he peeks into the open door to listen and see if he settles. 

But standing at the side of the crib, up on tiptoes with her chin resting on the gate is Alice, speaking low to the baby, words he can’t make out. Liam is bundled up in blankets but he can see his attention fixed on his sister. He hesitates, not sure if he should leave them be, if she still doesn’t want to speak to him, and curious to know what she’s doing. 

The door creaks when his shoulder bumps it and Alice jumps, whirling around to face him, and then startling again when she sees it’s him. He tries not to let the hurt show on his face. “I wasn’t going to take him!” she swears, eyes wide, anxious. 

“I didn’t think you were.” 

“He was crying.” Killian nods, taking a step closer, relieved when she doesn’t shrink away from him but turns back to her brother. “I was just telling him a story… I don’t like it when he cries.” 

“Nobody does, love,” he agrees gently, joining her at the edge of the crib. Liam’s face, tear streaked but not screaming or fussing, stares back up at him with wet eyes. He reaches a hand in, lets the baby grab his fingers, closing his mouth around them and chewing. 

“Why is he so sad?” she asks, eyes wide, worried. 

“He’s not sad.” He looks at his boy again, growing by the day, loved, cared for, drooling all over his hand. 

He has Emma’s eyes and chin, his ears and nose, but when Killian looks at him all he can see is his brother. He’d spoken his name out loud when the nurse had handed them the baby, in awe and disbelief as they laid him on his mother’s chest. Emma had smiled at him, misunderstanding - or perhaps understanding him more than he realized. Yeah. He looks like a Liam, doesn’t he? 

Kilian still sees his brother reflected in Alice’s expressions, the set chin, the stern determination of her brow. But every day she looks more like her namesake, beautiful and kind, and he can’t believe how lucky he is to have been loved by those two people and to be able to see them again in those he’s loved since. 

“He just doesn’t have the words to tell us what he wants,” Killian explains. “So he makes noise until we figure it out.” 

“Like a dog.” 

He snorts. “Aye, like a dog.” 

“Then… it’s not my fault?” she asks, not looking at him, fixated intently on the baby whose eyes are drifting slowly closed.

“Why would it be your fault?” he blinks at her, surprised, confused, wondering just how many feelings she’s kept buried these last three months. 

“Because I didn’t want him,” Alice admits, staring at her hands gripping the bars of the crib. “And maybe he knew it. And that made him sad. And maybe that’s why the fairies took him away.” She sniffles, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. “Because I wanted them to.”

“No, love,” he says, unable to stand her avoiding eye contact any longer. He crouches down, taking both her hands and turning her to face him. “It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault. Not Liam’s crying… and not me getting angry.” 

She looks at her feet, bare on the cold wood floor. It all makes sense, her believing they wouldn’t want her, thinking Liam was sad because she didn’t want him. Alice knows what it is to not be wanted, how much it hurts, and he hates that he let that fear carry over into their lives here, that he didn’t make more of an effort to ensure she knew how happy he and Emma were that she was here with them. 

“I’m sorry I took him,” she apologizes, voice cracking with more tears she’s holding back and he can’t stand to see her cry again. 

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry I yelled - I shouldn’t have done that. I was just so worried about you. Both of you.” 

She nods, understanding, so wise beyond her years in some ways and still very much a child in others. He pulls her into his arms, squeezes her tight and breathes a sigh of relief when he feels her little fists tighten around the fabric on his back, ignores the way she wipes her nose on his shoulder. He’s only just let her go when Liam starts wailing again and he stands to lift the baby out of his pile of blankets, squirmy and loud against his chest as he kneels back down next to his daughter.

Alice leans over to look at her brother, finger touching his damp cheek and then looking to him for help, expecting her dad to have a solution. He doesn’t. But she’d calmed him down before somehow, brought his screams to uncertain whimpers, speaking softly to him in a story only they could hear. 

“Maybe he needs another story,” Killian suggests and she looks at him hopefully, cautiously excited at being able to help. “Which one did you tell him?”

“The one about the selkie and the fisherman,” she answers, putting a hand on the baby’s head and brushing the fine hair back like he and Emma do for her. 

He smiles, heart giving a little lurch. “That’s a good one.” She’s thinking, brow furrowing in that way it always does when she’s concentrating, lips pressed together, holding back whatever idea is forming in her brilliant little mind. “What is it?”

“I think I know what he wants…” she ventures after hesitating, no doubt still feeling the repercussions of her last big idea. 

“What’s that?” he asks, watching her take a tiny hand, Liam’s fist wrapping around her finger.

“I know he’s not a changeling.” Her tone isn’t quite defeated but there’s acceptance there, and guilt. Killian waits, knowing she’ll finish when she works up the nerve. “But…” Alice looks up from the bundle in his arms. “His mum came from the water.” He knows where she’s going before she finishes, but lets her anyway. “Maybe it’s calling to him.” 

“You think he’d feel better by the sea.” It’s not a question but an understanding. 

She shrugs. “You do.” 

“I do,” he agrees. She’s a brilliant, insightful child - how she came from him and Eloise he’ll never know, but he thanks his lucky stars for the mistake that led to such light in his life.  

He used to hate the water, the endless waves cold and dark, soulless. That is, until he pulled a selkie from its depths and it became the place where he found solace, where he searched for answers when he could find none, knowing it had saved his life once and could again. 

“So does Mum,” she adds. Killian nods, faint smile pulling at his lips when she calls Emma her mother again. 

“Aye, that she does.” The sea had called to his brother too. And while he’d lost him to it, he knows that adventurous spirit lives in both his children now. “Why don’t you grab your coat, starfish.” 

“Really?” The excitement is clear in her eyes, the anxiety from before melting away as he accepts her explanation, acknowledges the truth in it. 

“Really. Be quiet though, alright? Let’s let Mum sleep.” 

She’s off down the hall faster than he can stand, already half-zipped by the time he reaches the front hall to grab his and Liam’s jackets. Practically bouncing, Alice leads them out the door as soon as they’re dressed. The baby squirms when the cool air first hits his face, turning with a fussy grumble into Killian who pulls the hat more snuggly over his little head.

He follows Alice down the path towards the shore, the little dock where they keep the dinghy frosted over with the first suggestion of proper winter. He calls for her to stay back from the shoreline, knowing that the water - not only freezing - can be unpredictable this time of year. She listens, waiting for them a few meters from the water’s edge, looking expectantly at her brother as he sees the ocean for the first time. 

They just stand for a moment, staring out into the choppy waves that seem to go on forever, listening to the crash of the surf against rocks further down the cliff. It’s cold, but not uncomfortable, Alice’s hair whipping wildly around her shoulders in the winter wind, and Liam snuggled quietly against his chest. At first Killian thinks he’s fallen asleep, but when he looks down at the baby his eyes are open, cheek smushed against his collarbone and seeming to listen to the waves along with them. 

“It worked,” Alice breathes, noticing just after he does. 

“Aye. It seems there’s a little selkie blood in your brother after all.”

“Can I…” she hesitates, knows she made a mistake and afraid to risk reproach - or perhaps making another. “Can I hold him?” He nods, handing her Liam and watching her handle him gingerly like she was taught. “Can we go closer?” she asks. “I want him to see it and he can only see a few feet ahead of him.” 

Killian smiles wondering what book she got that from, knowing he read it too. “Okay, but stay back from where the tide reaches and don’t let him wander off,” he tells her, as though he won’t be watching them both like a hawk and as though Liam can do more than lift his chest and shoulders off the ground. 

Alice nods solemnly, taking her task seriously as she walks a little ways down the beach, sitting down in the sand and setting her brother down in her lap. He can tell her grip is vice-like from here, one arm slung around his torso and the other pointing things out to him that he can’t understand. 

He’s not sure how long they’re out there, sun warm on his face and winds chill on his neck when he hears her footsteps behind him. “Hey,” is her groggy greeting, cold hands wrapping around his waist, lips pressed to the middle of his back.

“Hey,” he answers, hand settling over her frozen one, hoping to bring some warmth to it, the edge of the blanket draped around her shoulders held firmly in her fist.

“Did you guys make up?”

Killian nods, looking over his shoulder to try to see her face, chin resting on his shoulder now. “Aye.” He tilts his head in the direction of the children. “She found a way to get Liam to stop crying.” 

He can feel her smile pressed into his neck. “Why did I know it would be her?”

Chuckling, he stretches an arm out and over until he can wrap it around her, Emma curling into his side, wrapped in her blanket. “Because she’s brilliant.”

“So the water, huh? We should have thought of that.” 

“Hmm. He’s got sea water running through his veins - just like his mum.” Killian turns his head to kiss the crown of her head and she leans further into him. “What’s that?” he asks, looking down at the large bag at her feet. 

“I thought maybe we could take a day trip on the boat before it’s too cold. The four of us.” 

“I think Alice would love that.” 

Emma hums in agreement. “And maybe,” she adds, reaching out to try and wrap the blanket around him as well. “It’ll get them both properly tuckered out and we can have a whole night with no interruptions.”

“Swan,” he teases, shifting to pull her back into his chest so he can speak against her ear. “I can’t believe you’d use the Jolly to try and get me to ravish you all night.”

He can hear her eyes roll. “I meant to sleep!”

“Sure you did,” he smirks into her neck, letting his lips and beard scrape along the sensitive skin there and feeling the shiver he knows she’ll blame on the cold. “Mad, insatiable selkie,” he breathes, feeling her smile against his cheek before she tilts her head back, letting him find her mouth with his.

*****

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[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch. 7

Ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 ch.6

Summary: in which Cassandra gets bullied and other sappy shenanigans

---

"Oh Nicole dear, so happy to see you again!" Duke's voice was cheerful as ever, tone masterfully crafted over years of being a businessman.

Nicole, taking small steps inside the ornate and now full of items room, greeted him with uncharacteristic giddiness.

"Duke! How's business?"

"Same as always, I'll be heading to Beneviento later tonight to deliver some tools for her," he took a long drag of his cigar and, noticing green eyes scanning over multiple items and said, "I also have your order."

With a childish grin on her face, she approached him, hands shuffling inside the small bag attached to her belt that all staff members had. She pulled out the money owed for her package and, in return, the Duke placed a decently sized box in her arms. With an oof she shifted it in a less precarious position, it's heavy contents seeming to plot against her small frame.

"Unfortunately I can't stay, duty calls. But thank you Duke."

"No worries, I do understand that your employers can be quite," he took another drag of his cigar, looking for the right word. "...demanding"

Nicole chuckled. That was one way to put it.

"Well until next time dear. Or if you find yourself in need of something else, I'll be here until six."

---

She was only wearing a long white towel when she heard a knock on the door. Assuming it was another maid, or even Anita inquiring about whether or not she'd be joining the rest of them for dinner, she opened the door just a crack.

It was a surprise to see none other than Cassandra standing there, her elegant frame in odd contrast with the modest corridor. She flung the door open, letting the brunette inside and took a quick glance down the hall, making sure no maid was on the floor after fainting due to fright.

"What are you doing here?"

"Aw, are you not happy to see me?" She was pouting, but her tone was joking.

Nicole rolled her eyes, but the small smile on her lips betrayed that she was indeed happy to see her. Cassandra only laughed instead, a beautiful melodious laugh, so unlike the dark cackles heard by prisoners down in the dungeons.

"Just sit down, I need to get dressed," Nicole pointed to the bed before moving to the small dresser and pulling out a clean uniform.

Cassandra went to sit on the slightly disheveled bed, eyes following the redhead's form as she let the towel drop to her feet and started to put on the various layers of her uniform. Then golden eyes darted to the box sitting on the bed. The tape sealing it had been cut not long after Nicole brought it back to her room to make sure all its contents made it safely. Not that she didn't trust the Duke, but postal service was postal service.

"What's this?" Cassandra inquired, trying to read the label but having no success as it had been scribbled over with a marker.

Nicole stilled for a moment, hands frozen on her white button up. She cleared her throat and shyly admitted:

"Actually that's for you. Do open it if you want."

Cassandra's eyes widened, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. The gesture had really caught her off guard. She gingerly lifted the lid, inspecting it's contents for a moment and then hummed.

"And here I was thinking you like my hair. With how much you love to pull on it and all that."

Nicole, now fully clothed and sporting a deep blush, marched to her and plucked the two boxes of red hair dye from gloved hands. She placed them on her nightstand and, with her voice just slightly more high pitched, she turned to the brunette.

"Those are mine, I meant the rest of it." And, after a chuckle, "I mean have you seen my roots? They're horrible!"

Cassandra only gave her a deadpan look and, after a long moment, said: "I think your hair is beautiful."

She didn't wait for a reply, not that it would be anything more than a stammered mumble of course. Instead she chuckled and returned her attention to the box. She examined the rest of its contents and then gingerly lifted one of the few tomes inside. The cover was glossy and malleable, it's pages shiny and with a distinct typography smell to it. It was so unlike her other books, it's pristine white state making it feel extremely out of place in the castle. She glanced at Nicole inquisitively.

"I do appreciate the gift, don't misunderstand me, but surely you know there's a small bookshop's worth of medical books in this castle."

"With all due respect, from what I've seen most of them are at least somewhat outdated. Interesting, yes, but I thought you'd like to learn something more...modern." Then she pulled out another book. "This is the same one I used while studying forensic pathology. It would make teaching you some things easier. Uh… assuming you want that."

Nicole averted her gaze, suddenly unsure of the usefulness of her gift. Cassandra however grabbed her chin between two fingers and pulled her gaze back on her. She smiled, finding the shy demeanor beyond endearing.

"I'd love that."

A small smile appeared on thin lips and Nicole leaned in to kiss Cassandra. It was soft and short, but no less intimate than the deep kisses they shared so many times in Cassandra's bed.

They had to go anyway.

---

Let's go to the library, Cassandra said. It'll be empty, she said.

When Cassandra swung open the intricate door, only to find the other two sisters lounging on one of the couches, it's not like they could do a one eighty and leave the room. That would've been both impolite and highly suspicious.

Instead, Cassandra grabbed her arm protectively and led them to the reading spot farthest from the other two. They placed one of the textbooks on the small desk and Cassandra took out a notebook. This would've been a lot more fruitful with an actual body on hand, but there were still a couple days until the human flesh supply had to be replenished and Cassandra was beyond eager to start on some things. So, for now, they had to settle for theory alone.

It took all of five minutes for the other two sisters to make their way to their desk. Daniela had a giddy yet curious expression on her face, while Bela seemed as unreadable as ever, if not for a glint in her eyes that betrayed her interest.

"Whatcha dooooing?" Came Daniela's voice, who cocked her head not unlike a curious puppy would while looking at the book's contents.

"Working," Cassandra replied, a slight growl accompanying her words.

"Could've fooled me," Bela spoke from behind the youngest sister, eyeing the hand protectively placed on Nicole's waist.

Cassandra snapped her eyes at the blonde, looking ready to throw her notebook at her head but Bela ignored her sister's ire and addressed Nicole instead.

"What are you studying?"

"I uh- just some basic anatomy concepts. Thought it would be a good idea to start with the things that the older books in the castle don't cover."

Bela only hummed, grabbed an ornate chair nearby, and plopped herself at the desk, opposite from the pair. Daniela mimicked her sister, but instead chose to sit down right by Nicole on the small couch. It took more willpower than she would admit not to glue herself to Cassandra's side when Daniela's face came uncomfortably close so she could look over the book's diagrams. She stood still as a statue though. After a couple seconds of silence and Nicole trying to figure out what she was supposed to do, Daniela drew her head back, looking at her with what was possibly the most serious expression she had seen on the youngest sister.

"You do realize we're not going to hurt you right? How could we lay a finger on our dear sister's lover hmm?"

Nicole's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't sure if it was due to the word used to describe her or how Daniela apparently knew that she was utterly terrified of her. Cassandra sighed beside her and, seeming to at least partially read Nicole's thoughts, clarified:

"Your heartbeat."

Oh. Yeah. Yeah her heart was beating a million miles an hour. And apparently the other three vampiric occupants of the room were able to hear it loud and clear. It did very little to ease her mind.

"Please do calm down, it feels like someone is having drumming lessons. Bad ones," Bela complained, head resting in one of her hands like she was already bored.

"Then shove a sock in your ears," Cassandra snapped.

Bela simply leaned back in her seat and stretched her arms above her head. "And risk not hearing my beloved sisters sing along to some pop song?"

Cassandra shut her mouth, a blush now slowly spreading across her cheeks while Daniela burst out into laughter. Even Nicole couldn't help betraying the brunette and letting out a giggle.

"I didn't know you could sing."

"I can't."

"Au contraire dear Cassie! Should I remind you of the last time Dragostea din tei came on the radio? The pathos!" Daniela reached over Nicole's lap to lightly shake her sister's knee through her giggles.

Cassandra only let out a long groan, face now hidden in her palms. "I hate you both."

"Mhm, we love you too," came Bela's reply, accompanied by a chuckle.

Nicole couldn't keep a small laugh while she snaked her arm behind the brunette to show some form of support against the merciless assailants. Maybe not a complete betrayal.

The scene really had something deep within her heart aching beautifully. It reminded her of the countless times she and Alex would mercilessly tease each other, but still have each other's backs through thick and thin. And for this familiarity to come from people that any sane person would consider bloodthirsty monsters? Hell, maybe they should start considering her a monster too, for the only word she could use to describe them in that moment was endearing.

"So," Bela lightly clapped her gloved hands. "Now that your pulse isn't giving me a headache anymore, what are we doing?"

She had a confident smirk on her face, but her eyes betrayed curiosity. Same for Daniela and, although mixed with a hint of annoyance, Cassandra. She opened the book in front of her, one of general human anatomy, and decided that the digestive system would be a good enough starting point.

---

Their little impromptu lesson didn't last more than two hours. Two hours that proved to Nicole just how oddly human all three sisters can be. Of course she had gotten familiar with Cassandra, intimately so, but the other two still felt like two looming monsters hiding in the shadows. At least up until now.

Bela seemed oddly intrigued by Nicole's explanation, although unlike Cassandra, she seemed to view it more like a story than anything. Daniela seemed slightly more interested, asking questions here and there and even starting to giggle like a middle schooler when they got to the rectum section. That got an eye roll from the other two. Nicole just laughed, finally understanding Mrs Hawkins, her private biology teacher from before she was allowed to step foot in any public school.

After they were done, Bela simply stood up and bid them good night. Danila instead excitedly proposed the skeletal system for next time and picked up the books she abandoned earlier. Then, with a small tower of tomes she went through a door tucked at the very back of the room. Her study, Cassandra had pointed out as they made their way out of the library.

"I didn't know your sisters were interested in medicine too." Nicole kept her voice low, almost as if talking too loudly would disturb the shadowy hallways.

"More or less. Daniela likes it and has a bit of hands-on practice but she has her nose in romance novels more often than not. Bela finds it interesting but botany is what she really loves. That and classic lit." She added the last part with a grimace and Nicole had to wonder which author had offended her personally.

Before she could continue that train of thought though, her gaze moved to the windows, the cloudless sky beyond thick glass panels full of twinkling stars. Her mind kept going back to a few hours earlier and at what Daniela had said. Lover. Did Cassandra truly see her as one or was the youngest sister just being her over the top self. Did she see Cassandra this way? Nicole had not allowed herself to dwell on that up until now, the idea that the brunette saw her as more than an over glorified lab partner with whom she occasionally scratched an itch seemed almost laughable. But the small gestures of affection shown in ways Cassandra seemed to know best were undeniably there. And the familiar flutter in her chest at each of said gestures was also undeniably there.

"What's wrong?"

Cassandra's voice, accompanied by the slight echo through the empty hallway, snapped Nicole out of her thoughts.

"Oh um- nothing." She sounded as convincing as someone trying to sell you a fork while showing you a spoon.

And Cassandra didn't seem to buy it. She moved in front of the redhead, walking backwards with no concern over possible furniture to collide into along the way.

"You always get this… face when something's bothering you."

"I do not-" the indignation in her tone was weak, little more than an attempt to change the subject.

"Mhmm you do. You normally look focused. Kind of like, if someone tried to scare you by throwing an eyeball at you, you'd laugh." She would. "Now? Now you look like a rabbit that has no time to run and is just laying low hoping whatever's hunting it passes by."

Nicole shut up for a moment, only looking at the brunette in front of her incredulously. Maybe she was far more attentive than she gave her credit for.

"Uh. Just thinking." At a raised dark eyebrow, the no shit went unsaid, so Nicole tried to elaborate. "About earlier. When we were with your sisters and Daniela uh- Daniela called me your lover."

Saying that the words felt awkward on her tongue was close to the year's biggest understatement. It felt like pulling out teeth would be an easier task. Nicole had never been good with her words, having learned since childhood to keep her mouth shut. But the fact that Cassandra seemed to share her struggle brought some semblance of comfort.

"And?" As if they were talking about the weather.

"And… was she right in describing me as such?"

She couldn't help a small gulp when the brunette stopped walking, looking at her with a frown. Any sane person would be at the very least somewhat afraid in this situation. Sanity however was scarce these days as Nicole was afraid, though not of the bodily harm that may come from her inquiry, but rather of Cassandra's answer.

"Nicole, your tongue has been in my mouth." Amongst many other places.

The redhead's cheeks turned a slight shade of crimson and she mumbled for an answer. She wasn't sure how to tell her that sleeping together did not automatically make them lovers. But then again, Cassandra's thoughts remained a mystery more than anything.

Thankfully the brunette took the metaphorical reins of the conversation and stepped forward. She wrapped her hands around Nicole's arms, gentler than one would imagine possible from her, and bent down to whisper no more than an inch away from her ear.

"I'll have you know, I'm not particularly fond of letting anyone I don't deem important touch me. Especially not the way you do."

The words made something flutter in Nicole's chest, an unfamiliar and comforting warmth. Said warmth got chipped away at the slightest bit when Cassandra pulled back to look her in the eyes.

"Should I take it that it's not mutual then?" Cassandra's tone was nonchalant, almost as if she didn't truly care about the answer. She could keep doing whatever she wanted either way, afterall who was going to stop her? But to someone who got familiar with all her small quirks and habits, the waver in her voice was more than clear.

"No." The world slipped from her lips with no hesitation.

No hesitation, because the more she thought about it, and she didn't need to think a lot mind you, the more Nicole realized that she couldn't remember a time when she felt the way she did here. Sure the initial threat of death looming over her head was anything but pleasant, but once that melted into affection and nights spent in Cassandra's arms the thought of leaving didn't as much as graze her mind.

"No, no. It is," she repeated, more certainty making its way into her tone.

At that Cassandra smiled. A small, almost shy one would say if they knew her well enough, smile. Her shoulders seemed to lose some of their tension when she leaned down again, her lips stopping not even an inch away. Nicole wasted no time leaning forward, their mouths meeting in a kiss that mixed softness and need beautifully. Their lips slid against each other until, surprisingly, it was Cassandra to pull back and sigh.

"Come sleep, we have some cutting up to do in the morning."

Nicole frowned. "Tomorrow? Wasn't that supposed to be due in a few days?"

A devilish grin appeared on black lips, fangs shimmering ominously in the low light. "Bela caught a foolish man-thing sneaking around the forest on the castle grounds. She's really excited to turn this one into a nice steak."

The redhead only let out an oh in acknowledgement. Foolish indeed. At least they could finally put into practice a few autopsy tricks Nicole had been itching to show her.

She let herself be guided back to Cassandra's chambers and into her bed, that she had grown intimately familiar with. The last thing she felt before falling asleep was the brunette's cool skin, pressed against her own. A welcomed comfort among the myriad of soft pillows that surrounded them. Nicole wondered briefly if being undead meant it was hard to keep yourself warm, but the thought quickly slipped away as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

[lunaekalenda]

aot boys with a s/o that’s an idol ? =)

no rush !!

yess! i hope you like it💖!!

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

❁ some shingeki boys!

❁ eren, jean, armin, reiner, porco, connie, levi.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

eren:

- he's like a kinda lazy stan.

- i mean, he does listen to your music, but he's always late for the releases.

- it is just because he's kinda forgetful, no because he doesn’t want to listen to your music, because he obviously wants.

- “honey sorry, I fell asleep again, but i’m listening to it right now!”

- he’ll stream your mvs while he’s doing work things or works out or plays.

- he send you a video of your dog and him listening to your single to desire you a happy tour!

- he’ll love to go on tour with you, but his work doesn’t let him.

- “i’ll take care of the house and the doggy, and i’ll see all your concerts online. take care, hm?”

- even when he calls you everyday while you’re on tour, some nights he needs to call you for another reasons.

- he’ll make a little romantic dinner and a sweet surprise for the day you return from your tour.

- “missed you so much, honey.”

jean:

- will support 100/100, always looking foward your next single or the date of your next album release.

- graduated in missing you while you go training or on tour.

- he likes to see your music videos with you at home, wrapping your body with a blanket.

- "you're gorgeous, you look so good in that concept..."

- he’ll put your music when he drives and sing to it.

- he’ll ask you to teach him your dances, so you’ll spend time together doing a dance workout.

- he gets the movements but sometimes he just looks how well you dance instead ot dancing himself.

- “jean!”

- he’ll laugh and start the coreography again, this time following your mirrored version.

- asks you to sing for him a bit, always enjoying how well your voice sounds with no arrangements on.

- you sound so sweet he falls in love with you even more, if that’s possible.

armin:

- he's a shy boy, but his eyes shine every time he hear your voice on the radio or watches your mvs on a café.

- he'll send you pics of the tv where your music is playing

- "love, love, look!"

- he has a full book shelf with your cds, even deluxe and special versions.

- his favorites are the christmas releases, always so slow and romantic songs.

- also liked that one that sounded like a zumba class sound.

- "i think you're the only one who liked it, min."

- he has been confused with a fanboy a couple times because of the phone case you made for him, a cute pic of you two after a concert.

- fans ask him where he got the golden ticket, and he blushes.

- he doesn't want people to bother him or you, so he'll goes with "i bought it with my saved money."

- you always laugh when he tells you those stories, but well, he's also a fan, isn't him?

reiner:

- fanbase who?

- he has all your schedules on his phone calendar just in case he forgets.

- he has been to a lot of your concerts, he didn’t care to drive to the place you play.

- he knows your manager doesn’t let him go with you or use golden tickets for free, but you gave him some of them a couple times.

- “sweetie that’s...”

- “shh, just take it, yeah?”

- his cousin likes to make stream parties with her friends, all are big fans of you.

- he’s so proud of you, so so proud.

- he’ll remind it to you every night, when your eyes are about to close. you’re so tired.

- he’ll hug your waist and kiss your shoulder, a little reminder that he’s there.

- once your fans thought he was your bodyguard because he picked you up from the building in his car, opening the door for you.

porco:

- "are you seeing that pretty face with such an amazing voice? it’s my partner"

- he'll be so full of pride, he wants to tell everyone he's with you.

- and well, actually he does.

- doesn’t like to download pictures of you from twitter because he can take his own pictures.

- but he’ll never share them, because for him, that pics are the way of reminding that there is a side of you that only him knows, one far from the idol image.

- and because maybe some of them aren’t conceived for public eyes.

- also, he knows that being an idol makes pressure on you, always judged by society, so he’ll hug you every time you feel down because of that.

- “you’re amazing, baby. don’t let anyone make you feel bad, hm?”

- he’ll hold you even if you cry for hours, the beautiful makeup your stylist made for you totally ruined.

- he’ll pass his fingers through your hair, silently comforting you. 

- he’s the one that defends you on twitter fanwars.

connie:

- meme base.

- “conn are you using my latest fansing screenshots as whatsapp stickers?”

- “i’m using them as memes in general and stickers in specific.”

- he’ll send you a sticker of yourself at the end of every chat just because he finds it funny.

- he points the most little thing on your mvs that can make you laugh.

- he enjoys your music a lot, it's totally his style so it's cool for him to basically put all your spotify albums on repeat.

- also listens to the times you were host on a radio.

- "It's kinda weird because the person that says "good morning" with cute voice on the radio is the same one that yells me "connie stop fucking moving for a second is 7 am in the morning." and that's the real duality."

- he always complains that fans don't know you have a bossy side (even knowing he loves it on the inside)

- since he doesn't use more social media than instagram, sometimes he gets news about you kinda late.

- his mom send your family group chat a pic of you and asked how the hell you're still with him. in a joking way, obvioulsy.

levi:

- will listen to your songs and talk about the lyrics with you.

- "i really liked when you said that" he'll point. "it was really deep and meaningful."

- you got training for dancing, singing, rapping and acting, but no on how to tell your boyfriend that sentence was written thinking about him.

- “... yep”

- you ask him to read your new lyrics or to listen to your new demo.

- “sounds pretty, are you the one playing the piano too?”

- he really likes how your voice sounds, and his favorite songs are the more sentimental ones, the ones where you're basically singing for him.

- you're still waiting for him to notice.

- he sees all your interviews and meetings, he loves how natural you are and how you keep having your own ideas, without being manipulated.

- "you're such a strong one, hm?"

- you want him to listen to those songs one day and feel all the love you wanted to transmit on those lines.

[qsphyxias]

𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖐𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘

if you fetishize mlm/nblm relationships, get the fuck out of here!

synopsis ; you took a reckless bullet for your ever so beloved detective/partner, and shuichi isn't too happy about it. understatement ; he was fucking devastated

warnings ; hospitals, gun violence, getting shot, inaccurate depictions of police and police negotiations, cussing, major angst, male! reader uses he/him pronouns

note ; the first one-shot of this blog, everybody dance ( the imagine isn’t based on the song, but i just thought it had the same vibe ig )

words ; 4k

⊱ ────── {⋅.𝐢𝐝𝐟𝐜 - 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫.⋅} ────── ⊰

ring, ring.

...

ring, ring.

what's that noise?

ring, ring.

why won't it stop?

ring, rin-

"hello?" gratuity washed over your body, the feeling causing you to relax as the obnoxious noise had been replaced by the gentle tone of the one you love. suddenly you didn't feel as bitter as you did before; when you had first awoken from your slumber. "ah... yes, this is... detective shuichi saihara."

your head shifted towards the sound of shuichi's voice, eyes flickering to him and back to the small dot on the ceiling you had first caught sight of.

shuichi darted his eyes over to your turned back, hands cupping the phone as he tried to muffle the authoritative tone your shared boss had been emitting. "... but he's still recovering. no, i don't think that that's-" the anxious detective's voice grew a little louder out of panic, causing him to immediately lower it back down to a whisper as his mind reminded him that you were still sleeping — or so he thought. "just... at least give him one more day. please. i'll take all his work for that day."

you blinked, brain whirling as you tried to process the information that seemed to be dripping from shuichi's lips. who's he talking about? you groaned quietly, feeling as if an anvil and a hammer had been clanging obnoxiously at your head.

shuichi whipped his head towards you, sad eyes widening as he had caught your groan, however soft it was. "s/o?" nearly dropping the phone, he tightened his grip and spoke into the receiver again, quickly wanting to end the call so he could go check on you. "oh- um, th- thank you so much, yes- okay, thank you again." without hearing his boss's reply, he abruptly ended the call and kept in mind he would have to hear the scolding later — however, it wasn't like he really cared at all in that moment.

"sh-?" you paused, shuffling to sit up from your waxy, cotton hospital bedsheets as you finally decided to announce your consciousness. fuck, how did the rest of his name go? come on brain! he just said it!

shuichi had been repeating and reversing what he had wanted to say to you the moment he saw you shuffle up and groan, as well as what you needed to hear. his head was sure to detonate, each second that passed by brought him closer to his limit.

despite shuichi's selfish desire to hear your lips say his name again, he held his greedy urges back ; he needed to talk to you first. "no, you ...you don't have to talk. actually i... need to talk to you first." that's right, shuichi. stay calm, don't scare him, he's still recovering.

you furrowed your brows at him, feeling yourself slightly perspire at his serious tone ; he was usually a pretty calm, serious guy, so you weren't sure why you had been so nervous. this was quite common, however, talks like this happened a lot at his demand ; he believed communication was key — and since then you were always at his mercy with his sweet and honest sentiments.

however cringe-worthy they may have seemed, he never failed to make you flush from his honesty ; though the embarrassment he caused you had been nothing but unintentional, or at least...you believed it to be.

laughing nervously, you opened your mouth to say a stupid joke to lighten up the mood, but the throbbing feeling of your shoulder being detached, reattached, pulled, strained, and yanked stopped you from doing...well, practically anything. wincing, you gripped your wound instinctively.

"s/o! i- i said not to talk...!" the sudden, yet the revolting sound of his chair scraping against the floor hit your ears, but shuichi's hands cradling your face distracted you from the gross sound. "s- shuichi?" his touch acted as a brain restarted, as your pupils suddenly dilated ; memories of yesterday coming back to you and hitting you like that bullet you took for him.

that bullet you took for him...

"i- i did it out of love! just- just let me go! i can't go to jail! i just fucking can't!" with blurred and fuzzed vision, there stood the perp, a small pistol held improperly in his quivering hands as he spewed out excuses and nonsense.

"listen, it's going to be okay...! just put down the gun, and i promise, we'll try and work this out ; i'll talk to the judge about your prison time, just...trust me, okay?" right...you remember now. you could remember so vividly how beautiful he looked, even as he was practically sweating out of his fancy turtleneck, he still somehow was able to keep a calm attitude.

he was...he was such a nice guy. well, that was an understatement.

despite his amazingly calm and reserved speech, the perp remained unconvinced, yet also unsure of what he was supposed to do. that much was obvious when he kept darting his eyes all over the room indecisively picking one spot to focus on.

as you held your gun firmly and pointed in your hands, you flickered your eyes back onto the perp, despite wanting to stare at the detective for hours ; you had a job to do.

you sidestepped towards the detective that had kept his golden eyes glued onto the perp carefully, leaning your head into his side as you whispered something into his ear, "you know you can't actually do that, right?" you could see his adam's apple bob in response.

"i'll... i'll figure something out." shuichi adjusted his grip on the gun he held, eyebrows furrowed in such a breathtaking way. you could feel your knees buckle.

"what are you guys- what are you guys talking about, huh? talking about- how-how i'm such a pathetic piece of shit!? huh?!" you threw your head back to the shaking, wary man, gun tightening in your grip. "we weren't. just take his offer, it's the best thing you can do." your tone had been firmer than shuichi's, not as kind, but hey ; that was your whole dynamic.

"we really weren't." shuichi agreed, sincerity was written all over his face. a small part of you felt envious of his stare.

"stop-stop lying to me!" the perp's frantic switching of his gunpoint, seemed to halt to a stop as he directed it at shuichi ; causing an unwanted panic to rise up in the both of you, but mostly you.

"hey, you seem pretty nervous there. say, when was the last time you had any contact with drugs or alcohol?" you questioned in a condescending tone, a smug smile adorning your face and irking the already unstable man. looking back at it now, you should've kept your mouth shut. even so, shuichi's life was in danger, and if you had to risk your life for his ; well, you'd take any chance to do that.

the perp seemed to take the bait and aimed it back at your chest, lucky or unlucky for you two. "shut up!" an unreasonable relief washed over you as shuichi had been put out of danger.

shuichi looked over at you, communicating with his eyes as if he was pleading for you to stop and let him handle it instead. however, there seemed to be an itty bitty miscommunication. your ego seemed to betray you, as you started spewing out things you probably shouldn't have been saying ; all so you could impress the very nervous and quite frankly, unhappy detective.

"cocaine? heroin-?"

shuichi glared at you, mistakenly taking his eyes off the perp for once. "s/o, what are you doing?! i have this under control...!" he suddenly barked at you, breaking his composure as he had gotten a tidbit angered that you had been interfering with the negotiation.

"shut up! shut up, shut up, just shut the f-fuck up!" a gunshot rang out.

"watch out!" without thinking, you had shoved the frozen detective away from you, even if the gun had already been pointed at you ; you had no business risking his life.

jesus, you were probably the most idiotic man known to humankind.

next thing you know, you've been knocked onto the floor, head throbbing and wheezing from blood loss as shuichi has to determine whether he should chase after the perp or stay with you.

the decision had been more than easy ; he took barely one second to decide that your life was more important. dialing back-up in one hand, he crouched down to assist you with the other. taking in one shaky but deep inhale, shuichi nervously fiddled with his radio, shaky eyes glued to you. "officer down, i repeat officer down."

"the hell are you doing, saihara...!? he's going to get away!"

"i-i can't just leave! what if you- no, i-! just...just here," he handed to you a handkerchief he held in his shaky hands. "press it onto the wound, okay? please?" he wasn't going to take no for an answer, one more beat and he would've been doing it for you.

grunting, "shuichi, i'm happy you're worried about me but you're being hella stupid right now-" you cut yourself off, grunting at feeling the strain of talking.

"w- why did you do that? i had the situation under control...!" he sounded upset, that much was clear.

"he...he aimed the gun at you and i guess i panicked, i don't- i don't know, look- just go, alright? back-up's coming for me, and you know you can't let him get away." you could feel the adrenaline from getting shot wearing off, and with it, the pain getting worse. sweat formed on your brow ; it felt like the more you breathed, the more the searing pain worsened.

you knew deep down you didn't want him to go, that you were scared you could actually die within moments, yet you hated yourself for that feeling. it was extremely selfish. it wasn't fair. you could remember the way he looked at you.

"i'm not going, that's final. we're going to... we're going to wait for back-up together, okay?" it was weird to hear him use his asserting tone when talking to you, it was weird to hear him so confident with you too ; yet you couldn't ignore the strange sense of pride you held.

suddenly out of the blue, a wave of exhaustion hit you, causing your eyelids to flicker shut. you knew you weren't supposed to sleep ; especially not when you were bleeding out from your shoulder, but you told yourself, hey, one 10-minute nap couldn't hurt, right? back-up would come anyway.

before shuichi could even stop you, you're already out like a light, and causing sudden arrhythmia to shuichi's chest. "s/o! w-wake up!" with his words echoing throughout your dream-like state, your smile only seemed to widen ; he may have been screaming at you to not leave him — but his voice still kept that same, soothing tone to it. it was like a lullaby, to a man seconds away from death.

comparing his tone and reaction from the incident to now, it had certainly been different. you wondered what had changed... maybe he was mad? understatement of the year it seemed ; he was probably pissed the fuck off. you did ruin the negotiation after all, and for what?

"you don't seem very sad that i got shot ; i knew you were a pretty stoic guy but i didn't peg you as cold-hearted." you teased, to which shuichi held a neutral face, eyebrows creasing as he stared you dead in the eye. for a second you worried if he could tell you were joking.

"... i cried for days, s/o." his voice broke, and you could feel your heartbreak piece by piece as he frowned at you.

blinking in response, you didn't seem to believe him ; why would he cry over you? your head was probably just fucking with you. promptly ignoring the blood bag hanging beside you wondered if it had been the blood loss. "you- you what?"

it took you a few minutes to process what he had said, and for good reason. days? had you been asleep that long-? wait, he was crying? over you?

sometimes you forget he has emotions from how calm he is ; you swear you've only ever seen three sides of him ; anxious shuichi, serious shuichi, and calm shuichi. along with the occasional happy shuichi when you make him laugh with your shitty jokes, but that's a secret you keep between the two of you. or more like for yourself.

"i was- i mean, of course, i was devastated- you're sp- i mean- look, why did you- what made- that w- s/o, you- ah-" he stammered over his words frustratingly, hand rising to fiddle with his hair out of habit.

you watched him sympathetically. "hey, where'd mister assertive go?" you grinned, tone playful as you essayed soothing his anxiety. "...listen, it's okay, just take your time ; i'd prefer it if you did anyway, you're probably just gonna scold me, right?"

shuichi took strange comfort in your words, golden eyes staring straight at your hospital-gown covered chest as he tried calming himself down. "y-yeah...thanks." something was unsettling about how you seemed to be smiling in a situation where you nearly got yourself killed — even so, it was refreshing to see it.

he missed it. he missed you.

you had been sleeping for two days, so it would make sense that you were refreshed and well-rested enough to be back to your regular self.

whilst you had been peacefully sleeping and recovering in the nasty smelling hospital, shuichi had been in agony. those two whole days had been hell for him. crushing guilt and his anxiety attacked his head 24/7 ; even when he knew you probably weren't going to die in your sleep, 'probably' wasn't very assuring when you were shuichi saihara.

he would fret for hours and cry in the shower about whether it was his fault or not ; despite it being so obviously your fault, he couldn't help but wonder what he could've done differently. he shouldn't have been so weak, he'd tell himself. this was a normal thing that happened as a police officer, getting shot in the line of duty, it was normal. but it... it was completely different when he knew it was you who had been taking the bullet.

his eyes widened as he felt your hand clasp upon his. "don't look so guilty, shuichi. you're breaking my heart." you pouted, apologetic eyes staring at his kicked-puppy-like eyes. "sorry, i just- i know you said you...you said you panicked when the perp aimed the gun at me ; who, um, thankfully got captured by one of our back-up team." he could hear you sigh in relief, which frankly, irked him a little.

you were still worried about that? he, himself was a workaholic but not to the point where he would sigh in relief as there was a large bullet wound inside his shoulder.

"but uh, i don't...i don't think i understand why? i mean, he- he wasn't going to shoot, i had it under control—"

"i know you did, and i trust you but...i just couldn't take any chances, you know? i'm...honestly i don't really regret much." you smiled sheepishly, hands gently fiddling with his cold hand that rested on the very end of your hospital bed.

"i mean, i get to see you worried about me." you chuckled, "it's cute, i have to admit." you forgot all about your wound at this point.

his guilty expression didn't change a bit ; eyebrows only furrowing deeper down as he eyed you questionably. "you think it's...cute? you almost got yourself killed, s/o. you know you can't be that reckless. to get yourself nearly killed just because you didn't want to take the chance of me in danger...s/o, i was terrified. when you fell asleep, i thought my heart was collapsing — you shouldn't have done that for me—" his worries spilled out of his mouth like fluid, the words coming to mind easier, and quicker at the cause of your hands being a good distraction.

"saihara." you snapped him out of it, tugging his arm further towards you. "don't cry, okay? i'm okay. if it makes you feel better, i'll...try not to do that again. please, just..." you swiped your thumb at his face, flushing as he instinctually leaned into your hand.

shuichi sniffed in response, hands coming up to wipe his own face as soon as he realized he was, indeed crying. "...i'm sorry."

"i know i'm too reckless for my own good, but i just didn't want for you to get hurt. you're...you mean so much to me. more than you could ever know." you confessed, eyes averting as you tried to avoid his reaction.

"um, i don't know what i'm saying — maybe it's the painkillers? they put in the right blood type for me, righ-?" you took your hand away from his and to the back of your cold neck.

"i made sure they had the right one — but um, what did you mean by that? just earlier?" shuichi stared up at you, pouting as you only seemed to look away from his detecting stare.

you knew one look in your eyes would show everything you felt for him ; and you weren't sure if he even wanted to see that emotion. so you settled for a temporary solution.

"um, is- is that a bee outside? i like bees, though they are going instinct — haha, the human race is fucked-"

"s/o, why are you avoiding the question?" he dealt with many guilty perps, thus knowing when someone was guilty ; and that right now, had been you.

you grunted underneath his stare, sinking further down into your sheets as you sighed defeatedly. it's not like you could hide from a detective for long. "i- uh, i just meant like," your confidence seemed to deter ; and for a second shuichi almost felt bad. almost.

his job as a detective meant he wouldn't stop until he got answers ; and that applied to his daily life as well, his daily life that included so much of you.

damn him and his adorable crying. "i think i...since the gun thing, and i don't know if this will comfort you in anyway but this has been seriously e-eating at my brain and i finally know- i finally know what this feeling is. i feel kind of dumb for not knowing earlier ; i mean, was my career as a detective nothing?" you gazed at him from underneath the 'comfort' of your uncomfortable paper-thin sheets.

"getting off-track, i just meant that i-i think that i really really like you." your voice had been slightly muffled by the sheets, but shuichi heard you clearly nonetheless. he made sure he did.

"you- me? r- romantically?" he flushed bright red as you nodded in confirmation.

you hoped he was as embarrassed as you were because you felt like you would dissolve into the sheets from the pure humiliation if he wasn't. "youdon'thavetosayanything,ijustthoughti'dletyoukno-"

"n-no, that's not it! i- i like you too! i...haha, to be honest, i thought this would go differently." he chuckled, scratching his cheek awkwardly as he eyes your shoulder wound.

jerking up, you briefly ignored the searing pain in your shoulder as you leaned way too close to him for comfort, a look of pure devastation and worry on your face. "you already knew?"

he couldn't help but think your worried pout was nothing but adorable, unsuccessfully stifling a goofy smile. "no, i..." honestly he kind of did already know, but he never thought it was something possible ; thus clouding his judgment.

"i planned to confess, actually...i was planning to-to talk to you about it during one of our-"

you made an 'o' shape with your mouth, a thoughtful look in your eyes as you nodded understandingly. "-talks, of course."

huffing quietly, he sent you a worried look. "what, are they bad? communication is key, you know-" his informative, but light-hearted scolding had been cut off as you reached to tussle with his hair, erupting a hiccup out of him.

"they're not bad ; you're just...you're a real saint."

"a-ah, i wouldn't say that..." you laughed at his nervous reaction, retracting your hand to his dismay.

"that's what a saint would say." he pouted at your teasing tone, grabbing your arm gently with his hand as he kept in mind your disability.

you cut him off as he opened his mouth, seemingly about to defend himself. "don't worry too much about it ; i actually sometimes like our talks...though i spend most of my time staring at you as you talk, it's still pretty fun." oops.

"s-s/o..." he squeaked, looking at you pleadingly for a reason you hadn't been aware of yet.

"what? i didn't say anything wrong, did i?" blinking at him, you tilted your head.

"n-no, but- um." he wasn't sure how to tell you how much he wanted to kiss you right now. those talks proved to be nothing but useless as he couldn't find the words he desperately wanted to speak.

it was only then had you noticed he had leaned half his body over you, nearly climbing into the hospital bed with you. the sudden realization caused you to widen your eyes, as you awkwardly hovered your hands in the air. it was like your body had been telling you to touch him, cradle his head but you didn't know how, or where.

the awkwardness had caused a small, nervous chuckle to erupt from your throat ; prompting shuichi's worried glances. were you laughing at him?

you felt him shrink away, and out of panic, you let your heart act before your brain could. your hands cupped his face, a quiet clapping noise echoing throughout the white hospital room walls and only seeming to make everything more strange than it had been.

shuichi held a shocked expression on his face, as you had practically been melting from how much you were sweating. fuck, did i mess this up?

no words had been exchanged, both of you, too bewildered and too nervous to say or do anything — the situation grew so bizarre that it literally left them speechless. with both pairs of eyes glued onto the others, neither of you moved — no matter how sore shuichi's arms had been getting from holding himself up not to crush you, and how with each agonizing second, you weren't sure whether or not to tighten your grip on his jaw.

"a-are you going to kiss me? or just stand there?"

"i-i can do that? really?" shuichi watched you closely for confirmation ; and you swore you felt him lean in closer to you — not that you were complaining. in any way. whatsoever.

"um, y-yeah. i-i consent, ha— mmf-!" shuichi hadn't bothered to hide his eagerness, lips already pressing and moving against yours like it was instinct, like it was something he had been waiting for for years.

your fingers ultimately tightened around his jaw, and you made the move to bring him further down onto you — to which wasn't a very good choice.

"w-wah! s/o, w-wait a second!" he muffled through your lips, golden eyes revealing themselves as he lifted his eyelids in a panic as you started pulling him down to you. he was unreasonably afraid of accidentally putting you in more pain ; but the electrifying feeling you had felt from his lips on yours had had the same cause and feeling as 10 million painkillers — you felt like you were in cloud 9 with a million tiny shuichi angels swimming and flying around you.

you promptly ignored him, craving more as you used one of your arms to hug him close to you — the position probably looked like you were trying to strangle him, but your lips on his said otherwise.

you two probably spent 30 minutes making out in your assigned hospital bed, but hey, it's not like anyone was waiting.

...i mean, just ignore the nurse awkwardly standing at the doorway and you're fine.

⊱───── ❝ thank you for reading! ❞ ─────⊰

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “World War V.”

I realize the title would be a lot more clever if V wasn’t also the roman numeral for 5, but whatever.

I know this one is a bit over the top but in the immortal words of one of my favorite authors “err on the side of awesome.” and I will not apologize.

But I am interested, at the end, comment what two songs you would use in this scenario. I am intrigued. I will tell you the songs I imagined at the end of the story :)

“So, your plan is to…. Intentionally wake the dead?”

“Wake the, very long hibernated, and then blast them with hard rock music while we mow them down with machine guns? And…. remind me YOU are the GA armada Admiral? And this is your tactical genius.”

Admiral Adam Vir adjusted the chestplate of his space suit, “Well say anything in that sort of voice and it will sound stupid, but hear me out. It is much easier to take something out all at once than it is to go hunting them down one by one and having to worry about missing something. We bring in the helicopters, and the vibration of the rotors will disturb the ground causing the infected vrul to rise. Now knowing the Vrul, and knowing that complicated beats affect their ability to navigate, move and completely wipe out their fine motor control. Furthermore, they seem attracted to vibrations in the air and through the ground which means we will be able to confuse them even more and keep them away from the city. Barring that, the Vrul have their force fields up, which are more than a match for light machine gun fire and will even keep out the strange pollen.. There is no better time to deal with this.”

He tucked his helmet under one arm, “I trust that makes sense to everyone?’ he turned around to the docking bay where over fifty men and women stood in neat rows of polished flight suits, helmets tucked under their arms. As he spoke, their heels snapped together with a loud crackle, and their hands rose into a salute.

Behind them double the amount of marines raised their hands into the air and chanted with loud voices that rose into the air with a roar.

Admiral Vir turned to the commander of the 113th graduating class of Earth’s UNSC Airborne Helicopter division, which he had brought in on special loan. These men and women were yet to fly any real tactical missions though they had all logged thousands of hours of flight already in their careers. Many of them had never left earth until this moment, and their first mission was going to be on the face on an alien planet.

He smiled, “if you knew as much as I did about aliens, Major, you might understand why we are doing something that seems so ludicrous, but sometimes when dealing with extraterrestrials, this is what we have to do.”

He turned to where a line of fifty pod shaped objects were being loaded one by one onto a rolling rail leading towards the airlock. Beside it half a dozen small fluffy shapes were busy overseeing the attachment of fifty identical Sonic cannons to the front bottom of each. There was a break in their work as one of the small creatures came waddling across the deck.

Admiral Vir Knelt down setting his hand on the floor and allowing Lord Avex to step onto his hand and then onto his shoulder as he stood back up.

The rest of the crowd watched in wide eyed awe, though they were, luckily, well trained enough not to do or say anything stupid despite their large eyes and quivering lips, which suggested they wanted nothing better than to cuddle the stuffed-animal esque alien that rested on his shoulder, “The cannons are in place, Admiral, and I have examined each of the pods, and the yare ready to be deployed.”

“Thank you Lord Avex, your work is much appreciated.”

It was just then that Sunny walked across the deck to join them. She was wearing her space suit as well and carried her helmet under one arm. The new recruits staired on in shock as she walked over to stand next to him, “The machine guns have been mounted and are ready to go Admiral, A few of our number have volunteered to go with the marines as extra support. Behind her at least a dozen other Drev raised their fists into the air and chanted their excitement not all that different from the line of marines on the far end of the hanger.

Admiral Vir nodded turning back towards the group of young pilots, not much younger than himself, and stepped up onto the nearest crate.

“On behave of the Galactic Assembly and the Vrul council, I thank all the men and women here for agreeing to accompany us on this mission today. You will be the first airborne unit in history to participate in an operation off Earth as their first assignment. You are thousands of lightyears away from home, orbiting an alien planet thousands of years older than our own, and today your mission is not one of destruction, but of liberation. For thousands of years the Vrul have been trapped inside their walls, until time and tradition made them forget about the dangers lurking outside.” he turned his eyes to look over every last man and women that stood before him, “What we are about to face is like nothing humanity has ever faced before, below the soil of this planet lies a plague dormant for thousands of years, a horde like locusts ready to rise up and infect the city. Now we have our protections, we have our suits, and the Vrul have their shielded city, but it is our job to start riding the planet of it’s plague.” He smiled, “Plus it always helps to have door mounted machine guns and a little rock ‘n roll.”

There was a sharp cheer from the men and women before him who raised their fists into the air. Behind them the marines joined in, and so did the Drev, who, he was pleased to say, had taken to rock like they had guitar solos for breakfast.

Still grinning, he reached up, pulled on his helmet, “Right, let’s get this done.”

He pointed to Sunny, Ramirez, Maverick and a few others, “With me in the elad chopper. The rest of you split off and gear up.”

His words were obeyed almost immediately as he stepped  over to what had once looked like a pod, but was now clearly a very specialized sort of chopper. 

As he slid into the pilot’s seat, and the others strapped in behind, he heard, “I thought you were a fighter pilot, not a helicopter pilot.” They pulled on their helmets.

Adam adjusted his harnesses, “I can fly anything from space ships to paper plans, you can bet your ass if it leaves the ground, I know how to fly it.”

Maverick buckled herself into the door gunner position, “Yeah, but if it has wheels, you better bet he’s probably gonna back it over your mailbox.”

“Put a sock in it Maverick, that is hardly my fault. I never really got the opportunity to practice.”

The door at the back shut and locked tight.

All around them other doors were being locked into place, and once all of the pilots had indicated they were ready to go, Admiral Vir gave the signal, and he felt the ship change course. He adjusted his comms set and called up to the bridge where Simon would be piloting them into position.

“How are we looking, Somon.”

“Almost in position Admiral.”

“Now remember to pull back into low orbit once you let us drop, or else the gravity well is going to pull you in, and it is going to be a bitch to get her back out.” “Yes sir, I know sir.”

“Good.”

He turned his eyes forward as a red light burst into life above their heads. Everyone evacuated the airlock as the fifty pods were brought by rail towards the doors. Behind him he could hear the others chanting something, though his heart was hammering so hard he could hardly hear what they were saying.

Funny thing is he bet he felt like every one of those new pilots getting ready for their first mission. He didn’t know if it was just him, but it felt like this every single time, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He ignored the tingling sensation in his bladder as the light blinked green before the airlock door, and the ramp slid open.

All went silent, and below him he watched as the light of the vrul homeworld washed over the deck before him pouring like golden honey.

The sight was breathtaking, steeling the air from his lungs as he looked down.

“Damn.” 

It would just never get old.would it.

“Prepare for drop, in three, two, one, drop.”

The latch on the back of the rail released, and suddenly they were falling away from the ship. Adam was pressed back in his seat as they accelerated downwards towards the open atmosphere.

Lights blinked on the console ahead of him and the tracking screen picked up his target.

They were approaching, and they were approaching fast.

They were entering the atmosphere now, and he felt it as their pod began to rock and rattled around him and fire began to lick up on the southside of his pod. It was almost deafening as they roared into the atmosphere. He turned on his comms watching as other pods roared into the atmosphere back and behind him. He could see them on his radar as they roared downward.

He had to wonder what it must be like for them.

Their first mission, and they were doing a high altitude drop onto an alien planet.

He almost envied them their excitement. Because he had done stuff like this before, and he was still grinning like an idiot.

Light rose up around them as the sky behind them turned blue. Clouds passed below them in great swaths, and he reached down to the controls ready to deploy.

He set of a general count for the rest of the pilots.

Three 

Two

One.

He pulled the release, and the engine roared to life. There was a sudden firing as the engine spurted downward, lifting them airborne for a second and slowing their descent. His innards dropped as G force allowed his stomach to crawl into his feet. Then the rotors deployed like a fan. There was a sharp chunk and then a whirr as they began to fall again, and then the rotors caught, and began to spin. The rear rotor did the same sliding into position. Both caught with a roar, and he whooped with adrenaline.

He toggled his radio.

“Alright, ready the door gun.”

Behind him the doors were slid open, causing a rush of air to blast into the open carriage as Maverick rolled the gun into position and locked it at the door with a loud snap. On the other side Maverick was doing the same. Beside him. Sunny took control of the extra rear mounted guns set in place especially for this mission.

Adam had the guns already built into the chopper, as well as missiles if he felt like it.

Beside him and below him, he watched as the fifty other choppers deployed like his. Some of them were a bit wobbly, but everything he saw seemed to go well.

“Alright everyone take it in low, and on my mark deploy the cannons.”

He angled them lower roaring towards his target.

Below them, the Vrul city was a glassy blue purple bubble against the orange, brown landscape.

He took point, and the other choppers fell into flight beside him, clustered in ten open groups of five helicopters each, and together they rolled in low over the landscape, not twenty feet above the ground in some cases, though those were only the pilots who were comfortable getting that close. From here he could see the thudding of their rotors causing the dirt to shake and the strange trees to quiver. 

The wildlife began to roll out in different directions, racing across the ground and away from the roaring choppers as if they knew what was coming, He scanned the ground, with Maverick and Ramriez leaning on the machine guns behind him.

“See anything yet?”

“Not yet.”

He opened his comms to everyone else, “Alright everyone, deploy sonic cannons in three, two, one go.” 

The first line of lyrics, and the first drumline rolled from the directional cannons, blasting the ground with a focused beam of sound like a laser for noise.

He whooped bobbing his head to the music, the sound so powerful he was able to hear it over the roaring of the rotors.

He sure hoped the Vrul had taken his advise and hidden in inside bunkers for this.

They roared over the landscape turning in a huge clockwise circle over the landscape.

“Report if you see anything.” he ordered.

At first, it didn’t seem like anything was going to happen, and he worried that his idea, which had seemed so cool and tactical to begin with , was nothing but a waste of resources. How embarrassing was that going to be to explain to the UNSC.

Yes, I borrowed the entire 113th graduating class to go on a joyride around the Vrul capital city, yes here is my rank and gun, I will now go live on the moon in exile never to show my face again.

“Sir! I have something.”

“Go.”

“Just south of the city, sir. I have movement coming from the trees in thermal.”

“Same here sir.” 

He was at the point of the circle, so he wasn’t likely to see it, made sense.

“Alright , let’s give it a pass. I want as many of those bugs out of the ground before we start shooting.”

They roared over the ground with the sound of the base rattling the stone below them. As he watched, one of the strange animals he had seen running, tipped over as the cannon passed over it and fell to the ground twitching. Apparently pattern tolerance was not something that many things on this planet had.

“Sorry guy, but things are going to be better when we are done.”

Rocks jumped and rattled as they took a wide turn around the city.

He could see the shield pulsing against the sonic waves that were bouncing off the ground and back into the air.

The blades of the helicopters cut through the air so fast it was like a light grey translucent wall against the sky.

They had almost made a full rotation.

“Holy shit.” for a second he wondered who had spoken until he realised that it was himself.

They were everywhere, swarming like ants over the landscape, turning the ground black in some places as they crawled over each other in confused circles. As the music got closer, their purposeful movement turned into awkward confusion.

“Stagger!.”

The formations staggered, falling behind each other so that everyone was always covering one segment.

“Ready to deploy the  sonic attack on my mark, in three, two, one, mark.”

It was a guitar solo this time, one that he had listened to thousands of times, and one that he couldn't have resisted using to kill zombie Vrul.

Th drumline cut in as the third obvious pattern in the song, and as it roared over the wave of Zombified Vrul, there was an immediate reaction as they all began staggering and falling to the ground, behind him he felt as the guns opened fire on either side with a sharp burrrr as the rotating barrels started spitting hot lead at 1,000 rounds per minute.

He laughed with something like maniacal glee as the powerful rounds poured into the infected creatures ripping them apart sometimes four at a time sending a wave of yellow pollen up into the air, to be kicked up by helicopter blades as they passed over. His circle kept him closest to the wall, so he was able to catch the majority of them before they could even attempt to make it to the city.

He toggled his own guns, and stitched a line of bullets over a completely black mass, which erupted into a burst of yellow. His circle took him around to where the Vrul had managed to make it to the wall of the city, and had begun climbing each other like they planned to create a ladder using bodies to the top of the wall. He gunned them down with great prejudice. As they moved along the wall, more and more of the creatures had piled themselves higher and higher, but that is not a trend that they allowed to last long. One of the piles managed to make itself three quarters of the way up the wall before their sonic attack hit them, causing the tower to collapse as both glorious drum lines and bullets roared into them.

He carved a circle through the sky coming over their first line of attack, where dark bodies were doing the best to crawl over their fallen brethren and pools of yellowed pollen having fallen to the ground. Ahead of him he could see a cloud of yellow where the following helicopter was stitching tis way over the landscape with great prejudice.

Behind him, he thought he heard Maverick cackle like a swamp witch as she loaded another belt of ammunition.

Yeah sure people back home were cool, but they would never be this cool, flying over an alien landscape, killing alien zombies while listening to a little ACDC, They could dream but nothing would ever be more awesome.

He couldn’t wait to tell his siblings.

His sister would be so jealous.

She had always been a fan of the zombie genre.

“Admiral, Admiral I think some of them are starting to fly.” Came the nervous comment over the com.

“Alright, remember the drill, just keep calm, and go higher if you can, then when you have enough clustered below you, drop one of the canisters.”

There was an acknowledgement over the comms.

With that announcement still running through his head, he got ready to drop one of his own canisters.

He was in view of the last helicopter as it rose into the air pursued by hundreds of little black dots that would erupt into yellow spores as they were hit by machine gun fire, and then something dropped from the bottom of the chopper, and then exploded just above the rising infected.

Thousands of tiny organic needles rained down on the vrul, cutting straight through their helium sacks, and sending them crashing downwards, into their companions, and finally to the ground where they erupted on impact, killing even more of their companions.

Up ahead, a wall of black rose before him, but he was faster.

They rose into the air and he roared over the wall, dropping one two and then three canisters in quick succession causing a wave of them to drop to the ground. The following helicopters followed his lead. He was having to rise higher and higher into the air, but still he was managing to keep ahead of them, they were slow and he was fast, but that didn’t stop a few of them from getting in front of him. 

There was a jolt as his rotors hit one of them, and he gritted his teeth, it was fine, one or two was fine as long as he didn’t allow them to gum it up.

He pulled back and up and continued to drop more and more of the caisters.

One or two of them floated high enough to make it close to his sonic cannon, but they were blown back and the pressure caused their helium sacks to rupture.

***

The Vrul council stood on the wall overlooking the outside of the city as a wall of the Vrul infected rose into the sky obscuring everything in a wave of dark bodies. Human helicopters roared in a wide circle around the city, and everywhere they went yellow spores erupted into the air. All of them wore safety masks as a precaution, but that didn’t stop the fear that rose up in them as they stepped back arms held out in shock. Dr. Krill stared on in fascination and awe. He wasn’t wearing hearing protection like the others, he could handle human music to a certain degree, and it was pretty muffled through the shielding.

He watched in shock and awe as one of the helicopters cut too low, and rolled right into a dense thicket of the floating bodies. There was a horrific eruption of yellow as the rotors caught hundreds of the creatures, and then the helicopter itself began to spin out of control crashing and rupturing Vrul as it roared towards the ground.

The emergency systems deployed firing one last time to slow the chopper’s crash. The sudden burst of flame ruptured a line of the Vrul infected before it finally plowed into the ground sending up a wave of yellow spores.

“Sweet Nebulon.” one of the council muttered.

Two more helicopters went down, and it looked as if there weren't going to be enough bullets.

What had they done!”

***

“Everyone, On me, increase sonic cannons! Now!” he had seen the three choppers go down, and he had seen all three of their safety measures deploy, but he couldn’t be sure if any of them had survived. “Avoid the crash sites. Everyone on me!”

The entire fleet of remaining choppers clustered together turning up the volume on their sonic cannons, and the combined force was so powerful that some of the bodies began to rupture even without gunfire though it still tore downwards.

They took two more passes before he saw his ammunition running low. That was fine. The Vrul bodies were no longer coming in waves and it would be harder to hit them from above, now that they weren’t just coming in a wave.

He aimed for one of the crash sites.

“I want a group of us to set down. Only choppers with Drev on them!”

There was agreement as ten choppers split off to the three crash sites.

Adam roared down from the sky, and set down on a smoking heap of yellow coated bodies.

He cut the engine , and reach back to pull his spear from where it was attached to the floor of the chopper. It wasn’t a Drev spear and it wasn’t a human spear but something in between, with the reverse spike on the end like they had done with the NeoSpartans.

He turned in his seat just in time to see the two marines push their machine guns out of position and one of the infected Vrul to come charing at Ramirez.

A spear appeared in his hand in that moment, and he ran it through the face.

Sunny was behind him a second later, and together they were out the door, three of them armed with spears, maverick armed with her assault rifle, and together they made their way towards the downed chopper.

Making it there just in time to see as a pile of clustered Vrul was ruptured from within, and a very angry Drev came roaring out.

He recognized from the height who it was.

“Kanan!” he heard Sunny yell.

They ran over to help, sweeping through the cluster of Vrul zombies before they began fanning out across the open plane.

He turned up the speakers on the outside of his suit and allowed it to blare music as he raced towards anything that still looked to be moving. A few of them were still floating into the sky, but the remaining helicopters were taking care of those, and Maverick from the ground on occasion.

He ran one through the face, turned and clubbed the other in the head like he was swinging  for a home run.

His blad sliced straight through the neck of one as he staggered over the uneven ground.

To the side of him, sunny was cutting through them with impunity like a god of war, touching them though they never touched her, the yellowed gore spattering her suit.

As more and more of the Vrul were cut out of the sky, more and more choppers landed, and men and women filed out, running in open lines, using whatever the could to dispatch the remaining bodies.

He saw one of the new pilots grab a Vrul by the neck, and twist it like he was breaking the neck of a chicken, surprised when the entire head came off. He kind of hoped the Vrul council did not see that.

By the end of the battle. Four of their choppers had been downed. Two humans were dead, both of them in the crashes, and at least four more critically injured.

He felt bad about it.

But he couldn’t have predicted that.

At least none of the pilots had died.

Two of his marines had though, tossed from the choppers as they were falling from the sky. It made him sick to think about their families, the ones that he would have to send letters to, but he tried not to think about that for now.

Thousand upon thousands of the vrul zombies were dead, and even as he thought this dozens more were being dispatched by hand by humans who were no more than walking radios at this point, having chosen their own theme songs to fight zombies.

Some of thor picks were quite surprising, though he couldn’t blame them for their humor or their irony.

They still had a long way to go, but at least he knew how it could be done.

Vrul past, hopefully, would never come back to haunt them. 

The two songs I imagine Adam picked for this was 

First: Raise Hell - Dorothy

Second: Thunderstruck - ACDC

[achliegh]

Golden

Prologue

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter 1:

Picking Wildflowers

“Ohhhh Leo! Oh Leo! Leo! More More!”

“Please Leo I’m soooo cloosse! Ah! AH! AHHHH!”

Laughing both Finn and Logan were clapped on their shoulders as Thomas and James came up behind them. Red faced Logan and Finn laughed a long, a little more awkwardly and stiff, but much more relaxed than they were at the beginning of the trip.

They kept poking fun and walking beside each other to bump shoulders. Finn, who had a mild limp, and Logan , who still has a bite mark on his ass cheek, walked into the locker room. Everyone had heard the two of them moaning last night with their angelic cowboy so the chirping wasn’t a surprise. Then again, when everyone noticed Finn limping instead of Logan they couldn’t help but stare in wild amusement.

No one on the rest of the team got to meet Leo so they all thought he was some scrappy hick who is into threesomes. Which he is, but he also is one of the sweetest people Logan and Finn had ever met! He gave them a goodmorning/goodbye kiss. What an angel, but they don’t know that, or that he snuggled with them all night even when Logan thought he was a comforter in his sleep and tried to kick him off the bed. He held them just as close as they have held each other for years.

It brought a lot of feelings to the surface that Logan didn’t want to acknowledge yet. Finn knew he was got to daydreaming about Leo’s sweet words he whispered before they even got him into bed, all day.

“Is this all we are going to hear about today?” Logan sets his bag down in his stall and starts undressing. Huffing annoyed as he looked in his bag for his practice jersey.

“You think we would talk about anything else when your moaning of a hillbilly’s name is still fresh in our brain?” Sirius walks past them and bumps Logan playfully with his hip so he jolts forwards a little having to catch himself with his hands in front of his face so he doesn’t faceplant into the locker behind him. The shorter guy glares a little and sticks out his tongue in a show of true maturity. Taking off his pants and changing before anyone sees the bite, he turns around to sit and put his socks and tape.

He feels a tap on his thigh and looks at Finn who is holding his phone so only they can see it, and there is a text from Leo. They had both sent him good morning texts and added him to a group chat because they honestly really liked him, they literally talked about Leo as they got dressed that morning, but they weren’t for sure he would actually answer them.

Text From: Cowboy Sweet Ass

8:15 am

Y’all want to come help me with something later <3

I want to see you again before you leave :)

They share a look of equal excitement and slight arousal from what this implies, Finn texts Leo back, both having this dazed almost soppy look on their face, especially when they looked at each other. Leo was having an effect on the guy and everyone on the team could feel it. Chirping aside, they were happy for them. Maybe this would get them to finally talk to each other.

They could hope.

Leo was dressed for success, overalls without a shirt that were pretty baggy on him and his square-toed work boots, he was sweating in the summer heat as he pushed his hair back under his ball cap to keep the sun out of his eyes as the ranch hands worked with the horses and he worked on fixing the baler. It was nine am and over 80 degrees, sometimes he doesn’t enjoy Louisiana as much as he thinks. But nothing could ruin his mood, humming cheesy love songs to the radio, tapping the rhythm on the machine. Smiling, he takes a step back from the bailer and wipes the sweat off his forehead with the rag from his pocket.

He sees a light blue 1967 Chevy C/K10 pulls up the dusty driveway and parks in its usual spot next to the main house. Who else but Clayton, the man of the hour, hop out of the truck wearing one of his stupid short ass crop tops that stop just below his nipple, making it easy for Leo to tweak them when he annoys him, with his jeans, belt, and boots that are falling apart. Strutting over to Leo he smiles bright and meets him by the bailer.

Leo smiles and they dap, tapping their foreheads together.

“Sooo, how was last night? I saw you leave with those two buffies and I knew you were getting double.” Clayton smiles and hands Leo the wrench he needs when Leo holds out his hand and laughs a little. Leaning on the machine and tipping his head back to soak in the sun.

Leo and Clayton have been friends since kindergarten, having never been apart for more than two days, they told each other everything. They were so close that their parents think they are going to end up together someday. They feel different about it. But they tell each other everything, everything, maybe even too much sometimes.

Traveling together for rodeo has gotten them so close that people just assume they are related somehow. It gets weird when they drunkenly kiss sometimes though. Clayton roping calves and Leo riding bulls has made them a hot commodity with the ladies but they make it clear that they aren’t interested… or that Leo isn’t interested. Clayton would still tap that.

“Dude, they were amazing! Fuckin Montgomery Gentry got me laid.” Leo waits a second for Clayton to catch on, then when it clicks that he is talking about Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy, when he stands back up from where he was squatting next to the baler to fix the belts and gets a slap on the back as Clayton whoops. Jumping around he shakes Leo’s shoulders.

“That's fucking hilarious! They took that song literally! Damn, you gotta try and keep ‘em, are you seeing them again? Or was this one of your hook ups that could work but you don’t want it.” Leo narrows his eyes at Clayton and grabs him into a headlock, struggling to get away from the 3” taller man. Clayton falls to the ground when Leo lets him go.

“I don’t do that! Plus, I want them to go out to secret with me tonight.” Leo looks at him while wiping the grease off his hands and squinting a little as the sun gleams off the metal right into his eyes. The red creeping down his neck doesn’t go unnoticed by the dusty friend and he smirks at him.

“Playboy Leo going on a real date… damn they must have really had an impact on you.”

“Well they rode me at the same time, so that left an impression. It’s funny how I feel more comfortable with two people rather than one.” They start walking towards the house to grab some water and tell Eloise that Clayton is here, so when Judy calls they can tell her that her son is indeed still here.

“One on the dick and one on the face or something weird?” Leo smiles and shakes his head as he gulps down a glass of water.

“How do you just always know?”

Text From: Cowboy Sweet Ass

6:01 pm

I’m outside Sweethearts

ShortCake

6:01 pm

Comming out

CarrotStix

6:01 pm

I’m gey

Leo laughs a little as he reads the texts, he hasn’t stopped smiling all day after he gushed about the boys to his mom and sudo-brother. Texting them when he could he didn’t have time to change before he came to pick them up, but knowing how they react to him… it will be just fine.

Logan gets into the truck first, sliding into the middle and planting a kiss on Leo’s cheek making them both smile brightly and dopey. Finn gets in and leans over Logan to plant a steamy kiss on Leo’s slightly dry lips, taking him by surprise but he melts into it, pulling away until they are still close enough to bump noses.

“Hi” Leo can’t help but laugh as Finn smiles a blushes before sitting back and buckling up, Logan grabs his face looking a little excited and gives him a kiss as well, a bit more possessive and sharp but when they pull away Logan gets buckled while Leo is still blinking in shock.

“Nice to see you too.” He smiles stupidly and relaxes into the seat before switching gear and starting to drive, the rink is close to the outskirts of town. “Alright, tomorrow is mama’s birthday! So.. that means I need to get her some of her favorite things, like wildflower, smooth rocks, and some honeysuckle. I’m taking y’all to a place only Clayton and I ever go, and it has all of those things… and we can go skinny dipping because I like seeing y’all naked.” Leo smiles innocently at them for a moment as he pulls onto a gravel road and starts driving.

“You don’t plan to kill us right? I mean we could probably take you but… I’d rather you take me” Logan bites his lip and leans into Leo’s side, Leo takes his hand off the steering wheel to wrap it around Logan’s shoulders and takes one of Finn’s hands.

“Ditto.” Finn smiles and is looking out the window in awe, as someone who has grown up in the city and really hasn’t been outdoors much he isn’t used to seeing all of the thick trees and wild plants. He squeezes Leo’s hand in excitement.

After a half hour of driving and listening to some oldies music on the radio, they pull over to the side of the road and Leo turns off the truck. “Okay, one more kiss” He leans over and kisses Logan with hand on the back of his neck, humming in contentment before smoothly pulling away and kissing Finn in one smooth motion. He pulls away and sighs happily leaning his head back on the seat, when he opens his eyes he sees Logan and Finn kissing and his heart skips a beat watching them. “Okay, we have a job to get done before we get into some sexy stuff!” Leo is more so reminding himself than the other two who pulled away and are looking at him the same way they did last night.

Getting out of the truck Leo walks toward the woods he pulled up next to and notices the boys aren't behind him, turning around he sees Finn looking at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes through the window. Oh yeah, the door is sticky.

He can’t get the door open.

Laughing Leo walks over to the door and opens the jammed door with ease, bowing slightly. “Your majesty” Finn snorts and gets out of the truck before patting Leo’s head and moving out of the way for Logan to hop out.

Logan takes Leo off guard by leaning his full body weight into him after he closes the door, Leo being the sweetheart he is, just scoops Logan up like he weighs nothing and smiles when he lets out the most manly squeak. Finn sneaks a picture smiling as he moves to their side.

Leo leads them through the thick woods and only sets Logan down when they reach a Grove with a crystal clear small lake and flowers everywhere. It was beautiful.

“This is what we call Secret, because we don’t think anyone really knows about it but” He shrugs “Maybe someone does.” He walks forward and sits on a stump, around the stump is a bunch of small white flowers that are two lipped and smell very strong.

Finn walks towards the water and sees a bunch of minnows socializing in the shallows, crouching down he feels the water, taking note of how warm it is. Logan was mesmerized by all the flowers growing, all different colors of shapes. Bee’s buzzed around the surprisingly silent grove and Logan watched them before picking a couple handfuls of flowers.

Leo looks up at Finn first and smiles as he sees him picking out rock he finds because Leo mentioned they needed some, and then his eyes move to Logan who is holding armfuls of beautiful flowers and even has a couple of leaves and petals in his extra curly hair from it drying in the humid heat. Leo felt so at peace with the whole situation. It felt natural.

Logan hears someone walking toward him and looks up with his arms just overflowing with flowers, Finn is carrying handfuls of wet rocks that keep falling out of his hands and he keeps bending to pick up to just… drop more. It was funny and Leo seemed to agree as he was taking a video of Finn dropping and picking up stones.

“Here” Leo holds out a cloth bag and catches the rock that just fell out of Finn’s hand to finally stop the cycle. They put everything in separate appropriate bags before setting them on the stump Leo was sitting on before.

Turning to the boys and smiling, Leo unbuckles his overalls and drops them after he kicks off his boots, so he is just standing there in his tight teal boxer briefs that have dumplings on them. His smiles turns into a teasing smirk as he turns to face the lake having his back to his boys and takes his underwear off before looking over his shoulder at them and then running into the lakes and driving in. Fin and Logan strip so fast, tossing their clothes wherever and following this Casanova into the water.

Two hours of dunking, kissing, splashing and holding each other close. They decide to lay in the short grass of the grove where the flowers don’t reach, sprawling out in a circle, the top of their heads facing each other. They pass around a spliff that Leo brought in the pocket of his overalls. Relaxing in the setting sun as they air dry.

“What day do you guys leave?” Leo has his eyes closed as he is relaxing holding his hand out for the spliff as Finn shotguns Logan, handing it to Leo as they end up sloppily kissing each other before pulling away to answer.

“A week, so you can call us up anytime.” Finn smiles and rolls onto his stomach propping his head up on his hands as he watches the smoke fall from Leo’s lips. His eyelids feel a little heavy as the exhaustion from practice and the cbd from the weed soak into his nerves.

“Are we going to have sex tonight?” Logan also rolls onto his stomach bumping into Finn’s shoulder as he clumsily does so. Leo opens his bright eyes and tips his head back to look at them. “I am really tired but… I also kinda want to suck you dick.” Leo huffs out a laugh and flicks the roach into the lake where a fish slurps it up later.

“I would not say no to that, sweetheart.” Leo bites his lips a little as Logan flushes pink and crawls over to him sliding between his legs leaving light kisses and nips on the tops and inner of his thighs and watching him get hard. Then Logan notices it.

“Do- do you have a worm tattoo with a lasso on your inner knee?” Logan can’t help but laugh as Leo nods smiling. Finn, who has been in heaven watching, joins Logan between Leo’s legs and notices the small tattoo as well and kisses it.

“I have a bunch of little ones. Can you blow me now?” Leo props himself up on his elbows, an adorable blush spread across his cheeks and nose make him look so delicious. Finn and Logan share a look before smiling and licking up Leo’s shaft on opposite sides causing Leo’s head to fall back and his knees to spread more. “Fuck.”

Logan and Finn continue to mirror each other as Logan massages Leo’s taint and balls while Finn sucks on his head, Logan on the base.

Leo is a mess.

His back arching, his jaw tense from making himself hold off from fucking up into their mouths or grinding back onto Logan’s hand. He is gripping the grass so his hands will be stained tomorrow, sweat beading on his hairline and chest. Moaning every once in a while when he can find his voice.

Finn takes him down as much as he can as Logan squeezes just right causing Leo to cum hard, throwing his hands in his hair and tugging it. Once he finishes riding out his orgasm he just flops down all boneless.

“Give me a minute and I’ll get you off.” Leo exhales slowly and props himself up to look at them and a flush of want rushes through him. Finn had gotten himself off on Leo’s leg, how he didn’t notice he didn’t know, Logan looks like he hasn’t moved but his face was blissed out, he came untouched and if that wasn’t the sexiest fucking thing Leo has ever seen. He didn’t know what was.

Cleaning themselves up with some lake water and getting dressed they carry their treasures back to the truck. They all slide in and make their way back to town. Leo sings some shitty old songs with his hand on Logan's upper thigh as Finn has his head on his shoulder drifting in and out of sleep, by the time Leo makes it to the hotel they are staying at, both of them are asleep. Kissing their foreheads he slowly shakes them awake.

“We’re here, come on darlings, let's get you to bed.” He gets them up and smiles as Finn stretches like a cat and snuggles into his side as he supports them on either side. Walking them to their room he waits for one of them to unlock the door and hears a couple of guys yelling around a ‘cheater in go-fish!’ and Leo can’t help but wonder what it's like to travel with a team like Logan and Finn’s.

After a few tires Leo just takes the key from Logan and swipes it to unlock the door. Leo stumbles a little as they both lean forward. He sits them on the bed and get them undressed.

“What do you like to sleep in?” Leo asks as he located their bag in the corner of the room. Logan mumbles something about Finn’s shirt and Finn just mentions boxers. Leo gets them situated, having Logan lift his arms so he can put Finn’s shirt on him. It's baggy and makes Logan look so sweet that Leo can’t help but lean down and give him a sweet kiss.

Tucking a smiling Logan into bed he moves to get Finn under the covers and see him pouting.

“Wa kith” Leo tries not to groan at how these two beefy boys can be so sweet and cute that it hurts his chest. He gives Finn a kiss and pulls away, watching the two snuggle into each other.

Leo realizes he wants this, every night.

Swallowing down the sudden fear that crashed over him he turns to leave, forgetting to put the hotel key on the night stand he doesn’t realize he still has it until he is getting ready for bed himself in his room that's too large for one person.

Now he has an excuse to see them again.

[witch-hazels-musings]

Trust

This story is a bit of my own ramblings and interpretation (Lumine, poor baby, I felt all this for you) of the chapter quest, “A New Star Approaches” -- while I am a sucker for the ‘rival to lovers’ trope… I really have a love hate relationship with Childe. His true character doesn’t show he has any kindness to the traveler, and, while other story missions with him seem to make him more appealing, I still can’t trust him. Anyway, here is another story. 

Summary: 

After fighting Childe in the Golden House, it’s revealed that Rex Lapis is still alive! And he’s none other than the Funeral Parlors own patron! Lumine’s trust is shattered, and she feels more alone than she did before. 

Genre: angst / hurt

Potential Spoilers?*

Lumine x Childe / Zhongli 

Lumine and Paimon rush through the doors of the Golden House, beads of sweat dropping to the floor. The large room is filled with piles of glittering mora, which Paimon can’t help but notice. After a quick reminder of why they were there in the first place, they can’t help but notice the surprising lack of millilith. A worry passes through Lumine as she spots the suspended body of Rex Lapis at the other end of the hall. With haste she runs toward the large dragon's body.

“Well, well …” Childe’s voice echos about the room. “I didn’t expect to see you both here. Shouldn’t you be bounding around Liyue looking for items for the ritual?’” His tone is dark, all the playfulness and gentleness he usually embodies replaced with annoyance. He ascended the stairs in front of the altar, stopping but a few feet in front of the two. 

“I must thank you for your hard work though. If you hadn’t spent all that time setting up the, ‘Rite of Parting,’” he spoke the words as if they tasted bad in his mouth, “I wouldn’t have been able to gather all the information I needed.”

Lumine couldn’t wrap her head around what she was hearing, what she was seeing. Childe had been the one to help them, he saved her from the Millilith… he was a Fatui sure, but he was different… wasn’t he? 

“You were planning on stealing the Gnosis from inside the Exuvia this whole time!?” Piamon shouted, her voice surrounding them in the grand hall. 

“It is my duty after all…” he started, “the Tsaritsa gets what she wants.” With a sigh he placed his hands on his hips. His exasperation was apparent. 

I can’t believe this, Lumine thought. The anger rising from her stomach into her throat. She had let her guard down, let this person close to her, and … trusted him. If he thought for one second he’d be able to take the Gnosis from this Archon, she was about to prove him wrong. 

“I won’t let you …” she hissed through clenched teeth. 

“Oh Comrad, I don’t need your blessing. If it were up to me we wouldn’t have gone through all the niceties in the first place.” His arms lifted into a shrug, a smile inching across his face. 

“If you think you can win against me, you’re delusional.” The anger Lumine felt had moved from the pit of her stomach into every nook and cranny. Her hands tightened over her sword, the blood in her veins pumping in preparation of the fight she rightfully deserved. She was going to make sure he felt the pain she was experiencing. She only further cemented her nerve as Childe’s laughter faded into the deep shadows of the Golden House. 

“Fighting talk,” he retorted, reaching for his weapons, “I love it!.”

And with that the silence of the Golden House was filled with the sounds of metal striking metal. 

With one final strike, Lumine sends Childe rolling across the broken floor of the once pristine building.   

“Wow, that was … unexpected.” He says through heavy breaths. “It’s been a long time since I had such a fantastic match like that.” 

“This method of yours isn’t the best way to make friends,” Paimon states, her own irritation peaking through. 

“Ha, well, yes. Anyway, it seems the Gnosis was never here in the first place.” 

Paimon and Lumine look at eachother, confused. “What do you mean,” Paimon chimes in. 

“It seems I was mistaken thinking you two would be involved in knowing anything about the Gnosis. Which tells me I might need to go back to the beginning, huh…” he says the last sentence under his breath, turning his head as if in deep thought.

“Are you … are you telling me Rex Lapis is alive!?” Lumine shouts, her heart still beating rapidly from the fight. 

“Hmm, we just might see.” He said with a tired smile before summoning a whirlwind of sigils. “I guess we'll just have to call upon the Geo Archon another way! How about … with an old rival?” In a flash Childe was gone, the sigils surrounding him slowly faded away into nothing. 

----

The sky began to clear and the rain, which only a few moments ago was pouring, had slowed to a soft drizzle. Members of the Adepti and Qixing stood at the dock looking out over the settling waves where they caught the last glimpses of the Jade Chamber dipping below the ocean. 

With the present danger now quelled, there was still one last thing on Lumine’s mind. Who is Rex Lapis, and where is he? While the Adepti and Qixing members discuss their next moves for the Rite of Parting, Lumine set’s off to find Zhongli. He must have some clues as to where Rex Lapis could be hiding. 

After receiving word from the receptionist at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor that Zhongli headed to Northland Bank a few minutes ago, Lumine and Paimon reluctantly head there. If only she had prepared herself for what she’d find. 

Upon entering Northland Bank, Lumine saw Signora, Childe, and Zhongli speaking together. 

“What…?” the words fell out of her mouth upon seeing the three of them. Maybe she was imagining things? What could Zhongli have to do with Signora!? She was a Harbingers, and the worst of them all! “What is happening …” she stuttered, anger building in her stomach again. 

Childe opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Signora. 

“You remember the agreement, Morax.” She stated, looking back at Zhongli. “Now, if you would be so kind,” she stretched out her hand, “the Gnosis please.” 

“What in the world are you talking about!?” Paimon shouted, causing the other patrons of the Northland Bank to stare. 

“The contract is now completed. That which thou seek is now bestowed upon you, as my promise is as solid as stone.” Zhongli’s words were void of emotion. His statements were matter of fact, as if he was simply explaining the reason why the sun rises in the morning. 

Lumine took an unsteady step forward. “I don’t understand …” 

“Are you saying you are Rex Lapis!?” Paimon took no time to voice her frustrations, and ask the question on their mind. “Why are you giving her the Gnosis!? She’s the bad guy!” 

Lumine could see them talking, she could tell they were explaining something important, but she couldn’t seem to hear them. It was as if someone had turned on a radio in her head, and instead of playing the sounds of Zhongli’s voice, it was static. The only thing that seemed to turn the radio station back to the right channel was when she saw the Gnosis in his hand. It’s warm glow illuminating his skin, a soft hum filling the room. 

Paimon was in shock, even more so as she watched the traveler make her way to the Geo Archon. 

“Lumine?” 

Lumine reached her hands out and wrapped them around Zhongli’s wrist. There weren’t very many people she would so easily touch. After losing her brother, unable to keep hold onto him as he was ripped from her hands, she found it difficult to cross that barrier. However, there was a desperation in her to make the connection.  

“Lumine…” Zhongli didn’t seem taken back by the sudden physical contact, instead his voice seemed remorseful. 

“Don’t … don’t give it to her.” Her voice was shaky, her hands trembled around his wrist. 

“There isn’t much you can do, Comrad…” Childe started, his arms crossed.

“Don’t give it to her!!” Lumine shouted, which caught everyone off guard. It wasn’t like her to express her feelings in such an animated way. Her eyes we fixated on the golden gaze of the once Archon of Geo. “Please, not again. I can’t see this again.” Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, her nose tickled from the sensation. 

Zhongli sighed, placing his free hand over the trembling ones wrapped around his wrist. His touch caused Lumine’s grip to soften. “A contract is a contract; I cannot break my promise.” 

With that Signora took the Gnosis, and made her way to the door, chuckling proudly to herself.

“Looks like you couldn’t protect another one, huh.” Her words were like venom, and stung Lumine in the heart. “Come, Childe.” 

“Fine, but I’ll meet you there.” He mumbled, turning around and walking up the stairs to the second floor. With both of them gone, only Zhongli, Paimon, and Lumine remained. Her hands still grasping onto Zhongli’s arm. 

“Lumine…” she could hear them call out to her, but she couldn’t respond. Her emotions trapped in her throat, blocking it up like a pipe filled with frozen water. Only the words in her head occupied her attention. I failed. I failed again. She felt a hand touch her shoulder which made her head snapped up.  Zhongli and Paimon were looking at her, worry plastered on their faces 

“Why…” she stammered, the blockage in her throat making it hard to speak, “I don’t understand why. I was … I was helping you. I did all that … and it meant nothing?” 

“It didn’t mean nothing…” Zhongli started. 

“It did. I couldn’t … I couldn’t stop them! Again! Why is it every time I can’t protect those around me?!” The shame building up inside of her. It was too much to bear, and there wasn’t anyone else to blame but her. 

“Lumine, you did everything you could…” Paimon’s voice was sweet, but right now it felt like a jab in her side. 

“Don’t.” Lumine backed away from them, tears spilling down her face. “Please, don’t…” she was so exhausted. Her body ached, her mind was cloudy, and after everything that had happened in the last several hours, she couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry.” Was all she could say before running through the doors of Northland Bank and down the bustling streets of Liyue. 

----

The next morning she awoke to the sounds of Liyue citizens going about their day. She didn’t remember making it back to her inn. 

The last thing she remembered was sitting at the edge of the dock staring at the calm waters of the sea until it reflected the darkness of the night sky.

Her eyes were raw. They hurt when she rubbed the sleep from them. She looked around her room noticing things were not how they normally were. It dawned on her that she wasn’t in the inn, but somewhere else.

Next to her was a warm tub of water and a clean rag. Who could have left this? As she dipped the rag in the warm water, the memories of yesterday began to flood back to her. The fight at the Golden House with Childe, the battle on the Jade Palace, Zhongli turning out to be the Geo Archon, and her failure to stop another Gnosis from getting into the hands of the Fatui. 

“Hey, you’re awake.” a voice called to her from the end of the bed. She turned to see Paimon floating with a small bag in her hands. “I brought you some of your favorite snack foods.” She said, drifting closer to Lumine’s side before resting on the bed herself. 

“Thanks.” Lumine looked out the window, “where are we?” she asked, looking back at Paimon. The only person she met in this world who seemed to always be there for her. She so badly wanted to trust that Paimon would be there with her to the end, but after the events yesterday, well she wasn’t really sure if that would be true either. 

“Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.” she began, opening the bag to present the goodies she purchased. Of course there was something in there for herself. “Zhongli and I found you by the dock late last night ... he carried you to his room.” 

After how she treated him, how could he still show her so much compassion. “Is he here?” She asked. 

“He went out a bit ago, but should be back later. He told us we could stay until we were ready to leave.” A reassuring smile appeared on Paimon’s face. “Hungry?” she asked before offering one of the snacks. 

“Extremely.” Lumine replied, responding with a warm smile. “Thanks, Paimon.” 

“Of course! Now, let’s see what other cool things the funeral parlor has to offer.” 

“It’s a funeral parlor, Paimon. It’s accommodations are mostly for the dead…” Lumine chuckled. 

“You never know! I’ll be right back, you say here!” She added before disappearing into, well, where she goes. 

The sounds from outside were getting louder as the citizens of Liyue were becoming more active. Quietly, she made her way over to the window. Her body still aching from the battles of yesterday. As she looked down onto the streets, she wondered how they would feel if they knew what she knew. If they could imagine the pain of being alone while surrounded by so many friendly faces. Had they ever lost someone close to them; had they ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? As she pondered on these items, she could feel the tears rolling down her face once more. 

In the silence of Zhongli’s room she cried, “I trusted you ....” she covered her face from the outside world, “Aether, where are you… I can’t do this without you.” She sobbed as softly as she could, not wanting to disturb the happy citizens below. 

Unbeknownst to her, the words she thought could only be heard by the passing wind were also caught on the ears of a certain Fatui harbinger. Childe leaned against the outside wall, hidden behind the decorative pillars on the second floor roof. His arms tightened around his chest as he listened to the sound of Lumine’s cries against the backdrop of laughing children and footsteps on cobblestone. 

[jawritter]

I’ll Wait For You

Summary: Sometimes when we’re angry, hurt, or scared we say things wrong. Say things that hurt the ones we love. When Dean takes things a step to far can you find it in your heart to forgive him?

Word Count: 3151 (oops...)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Prompt: Did I stutter? Do as you’re told!

Warnings: Dean’s a bit of a dick, angst, hurt feelings, unrequited/requited maybe? language because it’s me, I think that’s about it.

A/N: This fic was written for Chan’s 500 follower challenge! Congrats hun! @msmarvelouswinchester. It was also beta’d by @miss-nerd95! Thanks again love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!

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It was always the same old dance between Dean and you lately. The same old seven and six. Dean barked orders to everyone in the car, expected everyone to follow them to the letter, just as he’d been instructed by John all those years ago. 

Dean knew the way his Dad had raised him had been wrong, he even admitted it now, but some habits were hard to break. Dean was used to being in control and he hated things that were not. Maybe it was because things had the tendency to get out of hand in his life so much. So much loss, so many deaths, and a lot more regrets. 

Sam had gotten accustomed to Dean’s 'take charge' attitude over the years and all but brushed it off and ignored the sting his voice tended to carry most of the time. It bothered Jack to no end, and you started to think that was one of the reasons Sam suggested he stop coming on hunts with you all, while Cas opted to stay behind with Jack. Dean and Cas’s friendship had been a rocky one for years now anyway, the kid just added to the stress.

So you found yourself where you started with the Winchesters all those years ago, covered in mud, glaring out of the window in the backseat of Baby as Dean teared you a new one for some order you didn’t bother following. 

This time though, unlike all those years ago, you had developed deep feelings for the elder Winchester, and every stab he took at you with every passing mile seemed to dig deeper and deeper into your very soul. You could feel tears burning in your eyes as he continued with his rant and you prayed the Bunker would appear quickly, because you didn’t know how much more of his harsh words you could take.

“Y/N!” Dean’s yell broke through mental walls you had built up to ignore him, making you jump as your eyes met a furious gaze in the rearview mirror of Baby, street lights out the window giving you brief glimpses of his livid face. “Answer me dammit! Why the fuck did you not go through the back exit like I told you to, instead of coming down the fucking hallway and right in the center of the Goddamn nest!”

You could feel the anger boiling just underneath the surface of all the hurt of being called a bad hunter and a liability, and an ignorant bitch that you couldn’t take it anymore. You could only shake a coke bottle so long before the building pressure inside exploded and you were right there, about to lose your shit.

You knew that was unwise, especially during the mood Dean was in, so you just bit your lip to keep from screaming at him, and looked him dead in the eyes. 

“I’m sorry Dean, I messed up. I admit it. I heard Sam screaming at you, and I thought something bad had happened. I’m sorry.”

That did nothing but infuriate Dean further, his eyes shifting from the road ahead of him to you again in the mirror. 

“You were given a direct order to go through the back door for a reason, you could have got yourself killed, or Sam killed! Do you understand that!” 

“I’m sorry Dean-” 

“NO!” Dean explodes pulling the car over the side of the road, and for a moment you felt like your heart had stopped. The thought that he might either kick you out of the car or the Bunker, or both rolling around in your mind. “WHEN I TELL YOU THINGS IT’S NOT ONLY FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, BUT FOR THE GOOD OF EVERYONE INVOLVED! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!”

Sam sat up a little straighter, looking at his brother directly for the first time since he’d started arguing with you. Dean had turned around to face you in the driver’s seat. His face was red and angry, nostrils flared and jaw clenched so tight you could see his jugular vein right under the collar of his black and grey flannel.

You couldn’t answer him, your heart was pounding so hard in your rib cage that you were sure the boys could hear it in the front seat.

“ANSWER ME! AM I SPEAKING A FOREIGN LANGUAGE?!” 

“Dean!” Sam scolded in a stern voice. Dean gave him a look before lowering his volume, but turned his angry gaze back on your shaking form. You had never realized Dean could be so terrifying when he became angry because it had never been directed at you before. 

“Dean, I’m so sorry... “

“I don’t want to hear ‘I’m sorry’ Y/N, Did I stutter? Do as you're told! That’s all I want you to do! Just do what the fuck you're told, and keep your ass alive by doing so, understand?” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, never taking your eyes off of Dean’s. His gaze was hard, unnerving, and so angry that it reminded you of when he had the mark.

“I understand, Dean,” you finally were able to answer him.

Dean nodded, eyes taking in your visibly shaking form as you tried to make yourself as small as possible in the backseat. Sam was glaring daggers at his brother, but Dean didn’t seem to either notice or care. Finally he turned around and started the car again. A few tears slipped down your checks and you caught them quickly, doing all you could to hold rest in. 

The rest of the car ride was silent. No one said a word. Dean didn’t even turn on the radio. You kept your focus on the passing landscape as the Bunker grew closer and closer. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, Dean pulled into Baby’s usual parking place and you were out of the car and through the door before either of the boys could even move. 

“Y/N!” Dean called in a much softer voice than he’d used in the car but you didn’t even turn around when you answered him. You just wanted to get alone where you could cry.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you half heartedly yell over your shoulder. 

You didn’t give him time to respond before you disappeared behind the door of your bedroom, leaving the Winchesters standing in the library. You knew Sam wasn’t happy with Dean, but you really wished the younger of the two would just leave the other alone. 

You didn’t know what would happen if Sam poked the already vexed bear and you weren’t sure you could handle another fight with Dean at that magnitude. 

When you’d heard Sam yell Dean’s name, you assumed the worst. You felt like your heart fell at your feet. You just knew something horrible had happened to him and as mad as you were at him right now, you couldn't live in a world Dean didn’t exist in. 

Grabbing your clothes in a quick, yet somehow nonchalant movement, you made your way to the shower, and turned on the spray as hot as you could stand it. Mechanically stripping out of your muddy clothes before stepping under the scalding spray. 

You weren’t angry really, now that you were thinking about it, you were just hurt. Dean had looked like he hated you in the car tonight. Like if he could have gotten away with it, he would have killed you, which you knew was possible and that made it even more scary. You were a fool to ever think that Dean would ever have the same feelings for you that you had for him, and you knew that, but you didn’t realize how much he hated you.

That’s what made the dam of emotions that you had been holding back the whole way to the Bunker shatter. Deep, heart-breaking sobs racked through your body as your heart cracked into pieces  and slipped down the drain the water was draining in at your feet with the water that was rolling off of your body. 

Part of you screamed that you should leave the Bunker. Then another part of you, a much larger part of you, said you’d never survive if you did. Being a female hunter was dangerous, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was, you couldn’t leave Dean behind, and if you did, then it would be because he forced you, and that, you knew, would surely kill you. 

You stood there sobbing under the hot spray until it turned cold, washing your hair and body as tears streamed down your face in a now steady flow, only hidden by the water pouring around you. When you finally couldn't stand there any longer, you turned the shower off, took a deep breath, and dried yourself with a towel. Your hair was not top priority right now, and honestly, why would you even bother anymore. Not that Dean would notice or care even if you shaved it all off. 

You were so wrapped up in your own blind heartache that you didn’t see him standing in the hallway in front of the bathroom door until you ran headfirst into his chest. You staggered backwards as two strong hands grabbed each side of your shoulders to steady you. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you mumble, shrugging his hands off of your body. You tried to make your way around him, but he quickly stepped in front of you, blocking your way. 

“Hey, listen, I want to talk to you,” he said with a low voice that normally would have made you melt, but right now, you couldn't even make eye contact with him because of the fear that the water works would start again, or that he would still look as angry as he did in the car. 

“Dean, I’m really tired, I just want to go lay down, can we talk later?”

Shoving past him hard enough to make him stumble backwards out of your way, you stalked towards your room and shut the door as fast as you could, hoping that he’d just give up on yelling at you  and would just go away. 

Three loud pounds on your door told you that you weren’t going to be so lucky.

“Y/N, please let me in,” his muffled voice begged through the door. 

You said nothing, just pulled the covers over you and hoped that if you didn’t answer he’d leave without saying anything else.

“I can pick a lock you know!” 

You honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. You shot a narrow-eyed glare at the door as if he could see through it, before you heard the distinct sounds of the lock being picked. 

That was one of the cons of living with a couple of hunters, no privacy. 

What was left of your heart stood still as the door to your room opened, and then closed. The sound of heavy footsteps making their way to your bed and the dip in your bed letting you know there was no way you were getting out of this. 

“Y/N, listen. I was too hard on you back there. I’m sorry. You’re not a bad hunter, you’re not a liability, you’re not stupid or a bitch. I was afraid that you could have really gotten hurt tonight, and I blew up unnecessarily. I was wrong for that, and I’m sorry.”

His voice was soft and quiet, so contradictory to what it had been in the car, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around to see if he still had that same look on his face as he did before. 

“S’Okay, Dean, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have put Sam or myself in jeopardy. It won't happen again, no need to apologize.”

For just a moment the room became deathly silent and you wondered if he’d just get up and leave, but he didn’t. Dean was never a big talker, and you were already surprised he was saying as much as he did, even though you knew Sam had probably put him up to it.

“So, um, I’m gonna go make some burgers, wanna join me?” He asked.

You just shook your head against the pillows, wiping the stray tears on the pillow beneath your head to keep him from seeing them. His words were still ringing so loud in your head that it was all you could hear. Just a loop repeating over and over again. 

“You’ve got to eat something Y/N. Come on, let me fix you something to eat, you haven’t really eaten anything all day.”

Way deep down, the sassy part of you wanted to scream the question, “Is that an order?” Still, you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to enrage him while he was being nice to you. 

“Dean, please, I’m not hungry, just… Go away, go find some girl to fuck at that strip joint up the road and blow off some steam.”

The words came out harsher than you meant to, and you could have swore you felt him flinch next to you. 

A dark chuckle left his lips that had you turning around and looking at him in spite of yourself. How could he even find that funny? When you turned around you found no humor in his hard features. 

“Why won't people let that shit go?” He asked you seriously, and for a moment it threw you off, red rimmed eyes and all, you sat up in your bed and faced him fully.

His face searched yours as he took in the state that you were in and his handsome features fell even further, so much guilt hanging in the air around him that it made you a little sick. This was the vulnerable side of Dean you had never seen before. If you were being honest, you didn’t even know how to handle it. 

“Dean, I don’t understand,” you told him as you watched his eyes glance over you, keeping his distance at the foot of the bed. 

“I mean, yeah, I went through a lot of women when I was younger. I was a hunter, didn’t need any attachments. It was a way to feel something other than the bullshit I was dealing with at the time.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes almost like he wished he could will away the memories you couldn’t see. 

Dean had a dark past and you knew that. You never really saw it manifest until tonight. 

“I know it wasn’t healthy, but what hunter ever dealt with anything properly? I haven’t done anything like that in years, but here you are, and there Sam was just about 15 minutes ago, still throwing it in my face.” 

Dean stood, and slowly made his way towards the door, his broad shoulders slumping slightly as he went and it made your heart clench. 

“Dean,” you tried, but he just shook his head as he grabbed the door and opened it slowly. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m poison and it’s best that people think I’m a shitty human, maybe then you and everyone else I care about will be safe.”

Turning to face you with his hand still on the door, he gave you a look more haunted than anything you’d ever faced, fought, or killed. The small smirk pulled at his lips, not quite reaching his pale green eyes as he stared into your soul.

“I wish you could have met me before I became this way. Maybe then you wouldn’t hate me. Even though I can’t blame you, I can tell you that you will never hate me as much as I hate myself.”

You were on your feet before you had even thought about moving and grabbed his hand in yours to stop him from leaving. When he turned to you, you could see it then. The scared little boy that was still buried not so deep under the toughened surface. The one that had to see, live through, and deal with more than you knew you will ever in your lifetime, and carried more scars than you will ever be able to understand. 

“I don’t hate you Dean, I never have. I thought you hated me.”

Dean’s face fell even further, which you didn't know how that was possible, and his eyes hesitantly met your own, his teeth sinking into his lip hard enough that they were turning white before he finally spoke. 

“I don’t hate you sweetheart, I never have. I’m scared of what you make me feel, I’m scared that I will lose you, I’m scared… I’m scared of a lot of things.”

You were so relieved to find out that he didn’t absolutely detest you, that you pulled him into you with such force that it closed the door he’d had open, which led to him push a huff of air out of his lungs that he’d apparently been holding. 

“I don’t care that you’re poison Dean, I’m not going anywhere.”

For a long time the two of you just stood there, arms wrapped tightly around each other as if you could fix all of the broken pieces in your souls. Even though it wouldn’t all be okay tonight, even though Dean would crawl back in his shell of protection and hide from his emotions, even though no one would say it this this eventful night, you could see that he loved you just as much as you loved him… He was just afraid. 

Tonight, he’d spend the night with you in his arms, and in the morning, you’d share a lingering glance in the kitchen, maybe a passing touch, and that would be enough. Whenever he was ready, you’d still be there waiting for him, because even though he never said it with words, his body and soul cried out for the love he’d never been allowed to have before, and it told you all you needed to know.

He didn’t have to scream it to tell you, actions were always louder than words, and it was time for once in your life to do as you're told, and wait for your hero to come back to you. To let you make this homeless, broken man a home of your own. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how long you’d have to wait. You’d do it and do it gladly.

So even though there would be no dramatic declarations of love, no great, mind blowing sex just right now, and the wounds that words created would not get miraculously healed, you’d both take a shaky step together in the right direction. 

A little bit at a time, step by step, you’d get him to open up to you, but tonight, 'I’ll wait for you' will be enough.

Forever Tags: @deanmonandnegansbitch @hayleeharling @flamencodiva @coldmuffinbanditshoe  @dirty-pan-goblin @itmejado @supernatural3002 @teresa-67 @thoughts-and-funnies @hearteyes-j2 @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @emoryhemsworth @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @softsebastian @tatted-trina6

A/N 2: sorry if your tags didn’t work guys! Tumblr is being an ass!

[izzabeean]

Chapter 4 : Bitter

SUMMARY

Oikawa tries to distract you upon finding out about your break-up and it does seem to be working but only for a moment...

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 2,146

tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n :  I feel like things are picking up and I’m so excited for what this fic has in store! Apologies for the slow beginning, this truly is a slow burn. *NOTE: Kuri dorayaki is a traditional Japanese sweet, pancake-like bun with red bean paste and roasted chestnut filling.

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Barely an hour goes by before Oikawa jumps at the chance to spend the day with you out and about in the city; it's not often he’s had the opportunity to, especially when you and Ushijima were together making most of your weekend's busy spending time with him. Of course, you were quite keen on spending the day inside, finding ways to forget the severe emptiness festering within, but Oikawa's excitement couldn't be ignored and with that, you agreed to spend the day out with him.

Honestly, if it weren’t for Oikawa's pestering, you wouldn’t have realized how much the fresh air fills you with ease a s you walk down the street listening to him babbling about his evening with Iwaizumi. Normally you are a very attentive listener, engrossed in his dramatic details, but today you found it very difficult to listen intently. Your attention shifted to the pairs of people passing by; some hand-in-hand, some giggling, and the sight makes sick to your stomach.

All these couples in love getting to spend time together. It’s so repulsive.

And you're bitter.

Bitter because you wish you had that. Bitter because you used to have that. Bitter because you miss Ushijima.

And because you miss him, you can't help but think back to when you first showed interest in each other. At that time, you and Ushijima had a weird friendship, actually, you weren’t really sure what it was as he only spoke to you at school. Topics didn’t stray far from assignments or classes, so it was very odd when he asked you to hang out one morning off of campus.  

“You didn’t have to wake me up so early,” you groan curled up in the passenger's seat of Ushijima’s car. Your eyes are heavy, as you press your forehead against the cold window examining the long outstretch of highway lit by the sky just moments before dawn breaks. Looking over to Ushijima you notice not a trace of fatigue that filters his eyes as they remain focused on the road ahead. 

“What is there to even do at 6 in the morning?” you yawn.

The sudden wake-up call was earlier than anticipated, you should’ve clarified that morning for you was 9 AM. But to Ushijima hammering his fist on your door was a more productive way to wake you up rather than a call or text. Truthfully, he found the results to be much more amusing and knew you could not ignore him.

“We had to in order to arrive on time,” he booms flatly, quickly casting a glance at you.

Your face contorts with irritation at the vague response and question if this is just a planned kidnapping. Maybe you were exaggerating a bit... Still, nothing else seemed reasonable.

“Well, will you at least tell me where we’re going?” you lash.

“We will be there soon,” he replies, calm and cool to your aggressive tone.

Crossing your arms in impatience, you scoff at his response then continue to look out of the window listening to the low murmur from the radio. 

It’s not much longer until Ushijima pulls into a gravel lot at the side of the road and parks. 

“We’re here,” he says getting out of the vehicle.

You tilt your head quizzically scanning your destination which is basically out in the mind of nowhere. Ushijima pops open the passenger door waiting for you to get out.

"Is this a joke?" you rasp.

"Just follow me," he says trying to hold back the irritation in his voice.

Unbuckling the seatbelt, you slide out of the vehicle and follow him, hopeful that there’s more to this deserted parking lot than just a dusty road. 

And there is because your eyes are met with a breathless view above the town. All at once, your doubts fade as the sun begins to rise at the atmosphere’s edge, drenching the houses and buildings in its golden glow. Everything feels so peaceful.

“This is beautiful,” you breathe, sincerely in awe of the picturesque sight. 

You are an idiot.

“Not gonna lie, I thought this was a kidnapping,” you joke.

Ushijima casts a confused glance at you, unable to understand what you were getting at. “I was told to take a girl I like to an intimate spot.”

A girl he likes? Oh.

Did he bring you here for advice? A hint of jealousy surfaces at the thought that Ushijima has his eyes set on someone else. And you wonder what his true intent was for bringing you here. 

“Maybe tell her where you’re going so she doesn’t get the wrong idea,” you tease.

“Tell who? You didn’t like the surprise?”

You blink. “Me?”

It never crossed your mind that you could be the one he likes. Obviously, he’s hot and every time he says your name your heart skips a beat, but you never thought anything of it.

“Yes.” 

Ushijima takes a step forward closing the distance between the two of you. His gaze is a lot warmer than usual evoking a strong pull at your heartstrings. You know your personality can be quite cold and temperamental, sometimes even hostile, but there was something more underlying your cheeky, sarcastic comments. Ushijima brought out a side to you that no one else really could.

A slight breeze picks up pushing your hair in your face, to which Ushjima leans in tucking the strand behind your ear. 

“Your hair was in your face, thought I should move it so I could see you better,” he utters.

He’s close, the closest he's ever been, and you're hot. 

You stare at him wide-eyed soaking in the electric chemistry floating in the air. You think your heart might stop as his hand moves under your jaw to tilt your face up at him while the other touches the small of your back bringing you closer; his touch is warm and soft cascading tingles down your body. Then he leans in even closer to gently press a kiss on your lips.  

“Hey! Pay attention!” 

Oikawa’s yell snaps you out of the nostalgia bringing you back to your walk with him in the city. But your daze only causes you trouble because you spot a bike unwavering from its path heading towards you. Your brain screams, telling you to move or do something, but your body freezes in place--all you sense is fear. 

Suddenly, your arm is yanked from the side, and with a yelp, you’re pulled to safety. It was unlike you to be so out of it, but you didn’t realize how much Ushijima occupied your thoughts until that moment. 

A lump forms in your throat as the cyclist passes you and you could hear him mumbling under his breath how unobservant pedestrians can be. 

“That was close,” Oikawa jokes.

His words startle you as you come to the realization that Oikawa’s arms are wrapped around your body. You look up at him as he stares down at you with his shit-eating grin that says “I just saved your ass big time .” Your eyebrow twitches at his expression and pry yourself away from his grip.

“I’m not going to thank you!” you shout, angrily. 

“Wow, so cruel Y/N-chan,” he whines with a giggle.

His laugh is all-consuming as you feel overwhelmed with frustration. It’s just like Oikawa to make everything completely insufferable, now you weren’t going to hear the end of it, of how he saved you from getting hit by a bike. He always knew the right way to get under your skin.

“Y/N-chan,” Oikawa calls, pointing to a vendor on the corner of the street selling kuri dorayaki*. “Would you like one?” 

Swiftly, the sweet smell fills your nose and the scent reminds you of your childhood, strolling with your family under the gold and crimson trees while the earthy, caramel air nips at you through your clothing. 

But you’re hesitant to give in to his peace offering. 

You didn’t want to be bribed, but as the flavors continue to float through the air, you could hear your stomach start grumbling.

Before you had a chance to oppose, Oikawa takes his wallet out while walking up to the food stand to purchase a couple of treats; one for you and one for him. Upon returning, he hands it to you and motions to take a seat on a bench nearby.

“What do I owe you?” you ask.

Oikawa waves his hands in the air, “Nothing, it’s on me.

You pause. The city noise rang in your ears as the sun gleams down blanketing you in warmth. It almost feels strange, having him be so nice, after all, teasing each other has become so routine that the pressure to say something nice resides in your chest. You don’t know what’s overcome you, you normally never second guess what to say to Oikawa, but his kindness really stunned you.

As the steam rolls off causing your mouth to water in anticipation of the flavors, you sink your teeth into the delicious pancake-like bun. The taste of the sweet red bean and chestnut coats your mouth bringing a sense of warmth inside washing away the feelings of anger and frustration. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, under your breath licking your lips. 

Oikawa smiles in response, “Anything for you!” 

Just as you were about to take another bite, you pause peering at a familiar figure across the street-- the only figure you could recognize from a mile away.

Ushijima.

“Do you not like it?” Oikawa looks at you with an uncharacteristic flash of concern.

You don’t reply as you keep your eyes locked on your ex who is in front of a bakery you’ve walked past a million times, standing next to a girl you’ve never seen before. It’s almost unbearable as she wraps her arm around his looking in the window at all the decadent sweets on display. You are nearly consumed with agony at the sight but can’t stop looking while he turns to fix her hair for her.

Just like how he used to with you.

Your gaze must have been burning because as he looks up in your direction. He pauses blankly staring; it’s the same look he’s always given you--stony and daunting--but it feels much more unsettling. And now you know, that he knows you’ve seen too much.

Your eyes dart back to Oikawa who’s traced your eye line to where you’ve been looking. You can tell he’s anticipating some sort of reaction, but all you do is look back to find Ushijima gone.

Your heart sinks.

Everything makes sense now.

“Isn’t that--” 

"Do you know her?" you cut Oikawa off quickly reverting to desperation. A sense of betrayal fills you as you study his face, noticing he looks like he wants to say something but is holding back.

"No," he scoffs, not sounding the slightest bit convincing. It's the kind of ‘no’ you give to someone you want to let down easy or you want to avoid telling the truth to. 

"Don't lie to me," you say, firmly.

Oikawa pauses.

The suspense feels like it could kill you as you watch the wheel in his head turn, trying to piece together the right thing to say. 

“Have you met the transfer student?” Oikawa softly asks. "I've seen her around campus but didn't realize…"

Transfer student? 

Your heart drops as the words echo in your head leaving the rest of Oikawa's explanation to fade in the background. 

“You’re joking,” you state plainly, unable to process the information and when Oikawa doesn't answer you know he's not. 

It wasn’t like Ushijima to leave you for someone else, not even the slightest sliver of you can believe it. He respected you and cared for you, was the one who initially made a move on you. How could that all just change, like a flick of a switch? Yet, it did and last night you were met with a Ushijima you didn’t know. He was cold and distant, unreadable to the point you were convinced he could be a stranger. But, of course, the evidence was right in front of you as to why. There was someone better.

Unfortunately, there was nothing you could do. You know immediately Ushijima doesn’t owe you an explanation because you weren’t together anymore.

"Let's go," you whisper, getting up from the bench turning to Oikawa.

“You know, you don’t have to deal with this alone,” Oikawa breathes, quietly

The sentiment is almost dumbfounding to the point your nerves start to jitter. Admitting your worries to Oikawa wasn’t going to do you any good. 

You can’t help but let out a nervous laugh to suppress your embarrassment.

“Thanks.”

And there it is again, that smile he knows it’s forced, but he doesn’t tell you. It’s not worth causing you more pain than you’ve already been in.

[magics-protector]

Mountain Sound

Soulmate AU: Soulmates have one song that connects them - when one soulmate listens to it, they both can see each other.

The Song: Mountain Sound - Of Monsters and Men

(which I think fits Merlin absolutely perfectly)

Spotify, Apple Music, Youtube

A small kind of crack fic from my Everlast series - which will start up sometime this week because it’s Reading Week and I finally have time to write it!

With a soft sigh leaving her lips, Y/N fell into her chair, dropping the books she carried down onto the table. A long start to an already long day, if you asked her. 

First, she had to help Jack get his hand out of a cookie jar (because apparently her adopted little brother couldn’t just ‘magic’ his way out of it). Then, her Uncle asked her to “help” with work on Baby’s engine - and by “help” she meant that he made her stand there while she held all his tools and wasn’t allowed to touch the engine itself. 

Not that she could complain. It was nice having everyone home for once - not that it was going to last long. Hence the reason for all the books. A new day would bring new cases and as always, Y/N was responsible for research - being her father’s daughter had it’s disadvantages in that way. 

Speaking of her dad, he sat across from her, eyes trained on the laptop in front of him as he searched and typed, falling into the same pattern quite easily. Pulling her knees up to her chest, Y/N opened the first book on her pile and began to research - so it seemed Dragons were the big enemy of the day. 

As she read, Y/N started to notice writing she hadn’t seen in over a year. Language she hadn’t seen since she disappeared. It was the old language of the Druid People. Something she had learned to read over the years. 

As she read on, Y/N noticed the old phrasing of the common Soulmate connection: “Songs and stories of different melodies and tunes. That is what shall lead thy heart to its destiny”. 

“Huh, well that kind of sucks.” She said, meaning to think it but it just came out. 

Sam pulled his head out of his computer and looked up. “What sucks?” 

Y/N looked up from the book, motioning to the page. “The language in this book. It talks about the soulmate connection. You’d expect it to rhyme, but it doesn’t.” 

A laugh like breath came from Sam as he shook his head. “Not all old texts have to rhyme, you know?” 

Y/N scoffed with a smile. “I know that. I just think it would have been funnier and more romantic if it did.” 

Then Y/N’s smile faded. “Hey, Dad?”

He hummed in acknowledgement as he looked down at his laptop again. 

“What was your song? You know, your song with Mom?”

Y/N could see Sam tense at the question. Y/N had known for so long that her parents were in fact soulmates, but Sam never talked about her. The memory of Will was almost to painful for him to remember. Not the relationship itself, but what happened to her. 

He shifted in his seat, looking down as he nodded before he stood up, moving around the table to sit next to Y/N, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “It was Rebel Rebel. That was our song.” 

Y/N turned her head, her face shocked. “Your song with Mom was Rebel Rebel? Dad, I did not take you as a David Bowie fan.” 

Sam chuckled, moving closer to the edge of the chair and placed Y/N’s head on his shoulder. “He grew on me, only because of your mother. She loved to listen to his stuff. Rebel Rebel may have been our song but I can still remember her screaming the words to Space Oddity like there was no tomorrow.” He moved his head to look down at her, placing a small kiss on her head. “You remind me of her. Everyday I can see her in everything that you do and I know how proud she’d been if she could see you.” 

Y/N smiled sadly. “Have you ever tried to see her again? Maybe if you listened to the song again you’d see her..” 

“It doesn’t work like that, Bug.” Sam chuckled sadly. “Your mother has been gone for a while. I don’t think it’s possible to see her again until I get to her myself.” 

Y/N could sense that the conversation was getting to him, so she stopped. She would have much gathered leaned in and enjoyed the moment, which is what she did. 

“Woah, didn’t realize we were interrupting a moment.” 

Sam and Y/N looked over to the archway of the library where Dean walked in, followed by Cas and Jack. 

“Where the hell have you been, Dean?” Sam shook his head. “I called you like an hour ago to help with research.” 

Dean scoffed, taking Sam’s old seat. “Yeah, well, I had to pick these two up from the Gas Station.” He pointed at Cas and Jack with his thumb. “And what’s this about research? You two obviously aren’t doing any - OW!” 

Cas whacked Dean across the back of his head. “Don’t be rude, Dean.” 

Dean didn’t argue, he couldn’t argue with Cas, so he just grumbled. 

Y/N giggled as she watched her Uncles interact - it was honestly so surprising how long it took for the both of them - well mainly Dean - to come to terms with their connection. 

“Hey, Dee?” 

Dean looked at Y/N with a hum. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your song?” 

Dean sat up, leaning back in his chair while Cas took a seat next to him. Cas had a smile on his face while Dean gave off a rare cross between a smirk and a smile. “Well, that’s easy. It’s --”

“You Shook Me All Night Long.” Both Dean and Cas said at the same time, which made the both of them smile at each other. 

Y/N nodded her head, almost as if in agreement. “How did I know?” She giggled. 

Jack smiled too - he hadn’t found his song yet, but he was waiting, knowing he’d find it one day. He looked over at his ‘sister’ with a curious face. “Why do you ask, Y/N? You’ve never been interested in Soulmate songs before.” 

Y/N felt all eyes on her. She thought for a moment, before she answered. “Well.... I kind of want to find my song.....” 

Dean looked at his niece with that bothersome uncle look. “I thought you had no interest in finding them.” 

Y/n looked down at her hands, rubbing them together. “But I did. At least, I’m 99% sure I found him.” 

Everyone’s faces erupting with smiles and cheers - Sam gripped her tight in a side hug. “That’s amazing, Y/N!” 

“What’s the kid’s name?” 

“Where’s he from?” 

“What’s your song?” 

Y/N put her hands up to stop them.”Woah! Woah! I never said I found my song. I just said I think I found him.” 

Cue the confusion. “But,” Jack tilted his head. “if you haven’t found your song, then how do you know?” 

Y/N took a breath before she stood up, walking towards a pillar of the archway and leaned against it. “I just feel it.” She laughed with a smile. “When I was with him, it was like.. nothing else mattered....” She shook her head. “What we went through was a lot for two people to handle, but with Merls, it was like.... it was like we could take on the whole world and no matter what the outcome was, as long as I had him, I won.” She seemed so lost in the memory, so lost that when she came back she went pink with embarrassment and she held her arms. “If that makes any sense....” 

Sam, Dean and Cas looked at each other with knowing looks. “Well then,” Dean said. “Looks like we have a song to find. After all,” Y/N looked at her uncle in confusion. “We don’t want to leave him waiting.” 

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

“Ugh, this is hopeless!” 

Hours and hours of music and nothing. They tried it all - Bon Jovi, Hozier, My Chemical Romance, Lana Del Rey and countless other bands and still nothing. 

The team sat there for hours, playing music from Dean’s collection, random bands they found on YouTube, but nothing was working. 

Y/N slumped in her chair, defeated. She ran her hands over her face before she stopped and sat up quickly. “Wait!” She looked at her dad. “Dad, you said you weren’t very fond of Bowie but Rebel Rebel was your song with Mom. How did you find it?” 

Sam sat for a moment, his hand over his mouth as he thought, before his eyes went wide. “There was something that connected it to me. I would see the record or hear it faintly on the radio and that’s basically how I found it.” He leaned forward to pull his laptop towards him. “Is there any song that just stands out to you, Y/N? One that you can think of without hesitating? Like you’d see the album and feel a pull?” 

Y/N thought for a moment when her eyes went wide. She raised her head slightly and mumbled under her breath. 

“What?” 

She looked up at her family. “Mountain Sound. It’s a song by Of Monsters and Men. I’ve never really thought about it til now, but there’s something about it.” 

Sam quickly typed it into his search engine and pulled it up, handing it and the headphones over to Y/N. 

With shaky hands, Y/N put the headphones on and started the song and it was like the world had stopped. Swirls of gold filled the void in the archway capturing her gaze and she smiled. Those golden swirls soon started to form the shape of a man sitting with a book on his lap. That man, Y/N knew him better than anyone did. Tears pooled in her eyes as her smile grew wider. “I knew it.” 

Sam, Dean, Cas and Jack all smiled. They did it. 

As the swirls finished forming the boy, Y/N moved to the floor, carrying the laptop down with her as she moved closer to his form. The boy seemed to enticed by his book until he looked up and over her way. He looked around hearing the music himself and then he looked at Y/N and a smile broke out on his face, tears in his eyes. 

“Y/N?” His voice was eery, but that was normal for this kind of thing. 

Forgetting she was in the presence of her family, Y/N laughed, tears streaming down her face. “Hey, Merlin.” 

The young Warlock smiled, lunging forward to touch her, and through the power of their song, he hugged her for the first time in over a year. “I never thought I’d see you again, My Love....” He lamented. 

Y/N held him close. “Takes a lot more than a glassy portal to keep me away from you, you Cabbage head.”

Merlin pulled back, but made sure to keep a hand on her shoulders. “Where are you? We looked everywhere for you. I thought Arthur was going to take off my head if you weren’t found.” 

Y/N looked up at her soulmate and smiled. “How badly did you irritate him this time?”

With a look of pride, Merlin answered. “I going to be honest, I nearly had the Knights turn on him.” 

“Pft, hahaha! Merlin! You can’t just lead a coup against Arthur! That’s my job!”

Merlin laughed, he laughed so hard that he leaned forward and turned, resting his head on Y/N’s legs. “Honestly, to be fair, it wasn't his fault. All those Lords had been quite vocal about their disapproval over your rescue mission. I thought Gwaine was gonna tear off someone’s ear.” 

Y/N giggled, playing with Merlin’s blackish brown locks which had grown out since the last time she saw him while her other hand ran over his cheek, where a small stubble had grown as well. “I wouldn’t put it past him to do that.” 

“No. But I think the others would have let him if Arthur hadn’t been in the room.” 

Y/N looked down into his eyes and smiled. “It’s just nice to know I’ll have a huge welcoming when I get back.” 

Meanwhile, as Y/N and Merlin continued to ramble and talk away as the song repeated and repeated over and over again, Sam and the rest of Team Free Will decided to leave Y/N alone with her soulmate and as they left through the back door, Sam watched as Y/N smiled the brightest smile he’s ever seen. Silently, he vowed that he’d make sure Y/N got back to wherever she had disappeared to. 

[themangolorian]

look how long this love can hold its breath

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

pairing: javier peña x reader

summary: (slow burn/fake married) When Pablo Escobar escalates his war on Colombian law enforcement, the DEA is getting desperate to pin down his location. Reader is forced to go undercover with another agent, one she can’t stand, Javier Peña. Worst of all, she’ll have to try to infiltrate the Cali Cartel while pretending to be Peña’s wife.

warnings: mild language

a/n: i know it’s a generally overdone trope but i couldn’t resist doing my own version of fake married Javi with a pretty antagonistic reader. hope you all enjoy!

You’d been assigned to an undercover assignment of sorts. You were infiltrating the Cali Cartel. Sort of. The mission was simply to gain inside information on Escobar’s whereabouts. To finally bring that hijoeputa down.

The only problem was your assigned partner.

Javier fucking Peña.

You’d never worked with him, but you knew his reputation as a womanizer. His machismo. And, worst of all, he was an American.

You’d encountered him briefly on separate occasions in the briefing room and each time he’d rubbed you the wrong way. He had a habit of talking over you and every other woman in the unit. Well, honestly, him and his partner Murphy liked to talk over everyone but- to put it plainly, you didn’t like Javier Peña.

“What’s the plan?” You asked in your typical no-nonsense way as you joined him and Murphy in the briefing room.

Incredibly, the up aboves had put these two pendejos in charge of the operation.

“Hola amor,” Peña lilted at you with a smirk from his seat across from you, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

You glared at him. “What the fu-.”

“You’re married.” Murphy tossed the manila envelope on the table in your direction, interrupting your outburst.

He knew you and Peña got on each others’ nerves. This was his way of avoiding the inevitable bickering. It was a shitty way of doing so though.

You cursed under your breath as you fell into a chair and swept the envelope open.

The other two were quiet as your eyes scanned the documents.

“Fuck no.” You pushed the papers containing your’s and Peña’s aliases back at them.

Señor y Señora Villalobos. Dealers disguised as diamond salespeople. Married. To each other.

“Told you.” Peña told Murphy, his tone all-knowing.

“Cállate,” you snarled at Peña.

“You first,” he glared back.

“Hey,” Murphy exclaimed. He rested the tip of his index finger on the files and glared at you both now.

“This isn’t a request. These are orders.” He rubbed at his mustache and this time directed his gaze at you. “You either follow the mission or find another job.”

You glared from him to Peña who didn’t meet your gaze, too busy staring at a point on the table.

You threw your hands up in defeat, reached across and snatched the folder then huffed out of the room, muttering all the while. “Estos tontos Americanos vienen a mi país y piensen que tengo miedo de ellos, malparidos...”

Murphy looked from your retreating figure to Peña who was watching you walk away with amusement in his eyes. “What was that? What did she say?”

“She’ll do it,” Peña said, smirking. He stood and picked up his own file. “And learn Spanish while I’m gone, cabrón.”

Peña rapped Steve on the arm with the file affectionately and then he was gone.

Steve rubbed his face again, tiredly, worried that given the short fuses of both you and Peña, the DEA was making a huge mistake.

*****

“¡Apúúúúúúrateeee!” You dragged the word out, tapping your foot impatiently against the brake.

You were in an agency assigned car waiting around the corner from Peña’s flat for the pendejo to come outside so you could start the long drive to Cali.

Finally.

He threw his bag into the backseat then slid onto the passenger’s seat.

“Amor,” he greeted you with a sardonic smile as he slipped his sunglasses on.

“¿Y por qué tardaste tanto?” You ignored the stupid nickname he was no doubt using to taunt you in order to ask him what had taken him so long.

“I couldn’t find the rings.” He held up a shiny golden wedding band, and you saw a matching one already around his own finger.

For a beat you merely glared at the ring as if all of this was its fault, then you were taking it and roughly sliding it onto your own finger.

“Careful,” Peña said as he inclined his seat so he could sleep. “Keep being so charming and all the narcos are going to want to marry you.”

You revved the engine and took off jerkily, turning the volume of the radio up to drown him out.

The trip was a long one. You both took turns driving. Peña kept turning down the radio while you drove so he could sleep, and you kept changing the station while he was driving. You argued over where to eat and what temperature to keep the air at or whether to open the windows.

“We’re supposed to be married, not divorced,” he’d quipped at you once while he was driving after you’d knocked his hand out of the way of your water bottle as you reached for it.

You turned the heater up then, knowing it would bother him, even though you were already sweltering. He left it though, too stubborn to engage you at your game.

Until you opened your window. Then he was slamming the shut off button for the heater.

You glared at him...then- A mansion outside his window caught your eye. You watched it whiz past.

“What?” He slowed and turned the radio volume down.

“You passed it.” You sat back in your seat. “Coño.” You muttered under your breath.

He pulled the car over. When he let the car idle instead of turning around, you looked at him to see him already watching you, sunglasses off.

“What?”

“This is it. One wrong move and we’re both dead.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. You glared fiercely his way. “Are you reminding me how to do my job, Peña?”

He sighed. “Just- I know we don’t get along, but this weekend, we don’t have a choice.”

You rolled your eyes. “Look just because you swooped in from the grand US of A to save all us heathens,” you fluttered your hands mockingly, “doesn’t mean I need you to remind me of my job. I’ve been doing this for longer. If anyone in this car understands what’s at stake, it’s me.” You finished, angry.

“That why you hate me so much?” He asked thoughtfully in a tone so soft you had to look at his face to discern his intent for asking.

He wasn’t glaring anymore. If anything, he seemed curious.

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered but your tone belied your words.

He chuckled. “That’s a good start.” He started turning the car around. “Amor.” He added and suddenly you were fuming again.

*****

The introductions with the narcos and their wives went well enough, better even than you’d hoped. They accepted you as one of their own. It wasn’t hard for you to fit in, you were Colombiana to the bone. Peña on the other hand… But he’d sold it well. Almost too well. This had been your first opportunity at seeing how much he’d picked up during his time in Colombia so far. And it seemed like he’d picked up a lot.

Peña hadn’t been wrong when he’d indicated some of the narcos would take an interest in you. They greeted you both warmly, but their hands enveloped yours tightly and their eyes lingered just a moment too long. You thought Peña must have noticed too, and surely he worried that allowing such blatant flirting would endanger your cover.

That must have been why you suddenly felt his arm encircling your bare shoulders. You tried not to tense in surprise, so much so that you let yourself relax against him in a natural manner. He continued the pretense, kissing your forehead as he made a joke with the narcos about keeping the wife happy.

Inside, though, you were having a crisis and you hoped the look on your face was one caught between amused and loving. A shock had gone through you when Peña’s lips had met your skin. His act was so convincing; how was he so good at this?

You thought back to the first stop you’d made earlier on in the car drive. When you’d gotten out of the car, Peña had whistled softly upon seeing your sundress, warming your cheeks and angering you simultaneously. But he’d said nothing else. And you’d thought on it during the ensuing drive. Normally you wore suits to the office, pants and skirts, but suits all the same. And you’d made a point of never going out with Peña or Murphy. So he’d never seen you in anything else. Against your will, you wondered what the whistle had meant. Not that you cared, but you didn’t need to add one more thing to the long list of things you already had to think about.

You smothered the thoughts. They were distracting and unnecessary and right now you were lucky that Peña was so good at this because he was carrying you both.

As you trailed the narcos out back to sit and have drinks by the pool, you slipped your arm around his waist, needing to carry your weight in the farce and not wanting to have to hear later from Peña about what you should have done.

“Así,” you heard him murmur approvingly.

You dug your nails into his side and heard him grunt in pain.

Your smile then at the wife of one of the narcos holding out a drink for you was genuine.

You spent an hour bantering back and forth with the other couples.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think Peña was happily married in his private life. He played the part perfectly.

As you were both sitting at the poolside table, he would reach over absently and take your fingers in his. The first time a jolt went through you again. But you took the cue. You alternated touches. You would rest your hand on his thigh. You swore he jumped the first time you did that, but he hid it well. He took long draws from your glass. Once he even fed you an olive. If you didn’t know any better, he was enjoying torturing you. He knew you hated olives. But the gesture drew laughs from the men and awwws from the women. It was then you noticed how they were swooning over Peña. It upset you only because you realized that if the pinche idioto was in the position to do it, he’d sleep with all their wives.

Finally and blessedly, your hosts suggested that you two retire to your room before dinner. Peña was to join the other men in Pacho’s office just before dinner for a discussion. You assumed that was when any useful information would be recovered. You realized then that you were here more for decoration than anything.

You fumed as you let Peña lead you by the hand up the mansion’s grand staircase. You both followed the housekeeper who led you to your room.

You dropped Peña’s hand the second the door closed behind you. He gave you a look but then the two of you were scouring the room, searching for any hidden recording devices. You shook your head at him, but he put his finger to his lips and tilted his head toward the bathroom. You raised your hands questioningly but followed him all the same.

He was reaching into the shower and turning it on full blast.

“¿Qué haces?” You hissed at his ear, having to get close to be heard.

“We don’t know for sure it’s clear. We only talk freely like this.” He murmured into your ear, his breath tickling your skin. You shivered involuntarily at the sensation.

You both established that your cover had been bought. And what most likely awaited him at the meeting. You left him to take a shower and went to lounge on the bed.

Several minutes later, the door to the bathroom opened releasing a wall of steam and-

You sat up, glaring, “What are you doing?”

Peña put a finger to his lips furiously. “Adonde está mi maleta, amor?” His sweet tone was a direct contradiction to the furrow in his brow. He shook his head at you, gesturing to his suitcase as if to ask how you expected him to get dressed without clothes.

“Allí, corazón.” You said for show, just in case, glaring at him as he took his time going through his bag to find an outfit. Your eyes tried not to linger on his bare skin and the way water from the shower trickled down his toned back.

You averted your eyes when he turned back, but he was smiling as if he knew you’d been watching him, so you flipped over on the bed to face the other direction.

When Peña left the room with the sound of a fake kiss, you were too nervous to sit still. You had to get ready for dinner anyway. But you were anxious all the same. Your cover could be blown at any second. You stored a handgun under the bathroom sink before getting into the shower and kept an ear out for any strange noises. But nothing happened. You dressed and put your perfume and makeup on. Still Peña was absent. You slid a smaller gun into the holster on your inner thigh and went to join the other wives wherever they were.

They turned out to be in a bar off the kitchen. Luckily already tipsy and talkative. They handed you a drink, but you took only tiny sips as you engaged them in conversation. You struck gold when one of them brought up Tata, Escobar’s wife. They were gossiping over who had a better kitchen. You hung onto every word while providing input as shallowly as possible. Apparently your and Peña’s kitchen was inlaid with marble and dark hickory wood.

Nothing they said gave up the location of the Escobars though and the subject soon turned to jewelry, at which point the women fawned over the diamond necklace provided to you by the agency. Which was your cue to try to sell them diamonds.

Soon enough the staff came in to lead you all to the formal dining room where the men were waiting. They all stood but it was Peña’s face you were focused on.

His lips parted when he saw you and his brow smoothed over. His eyes traveled from yours down along your entire figure. You couldn’t help but get the slightest bit flustered. You avoided his gaze, but he was coming your way to take your hand and lead you over to the seat next to his. It was strange. Surrounded as you both were by actual enemies, it felt like you were the only two in the room. It confused you and irritated you, but you managed to catch your breath again once you were seated at the dinner table. You ignored Peña’s dark eyes on you and took a long sip from your wine glass, trying to focus on the mission at hand.

“Not too much,” you heard him whisper as you placed the wine glass back down.

And there he was.

Underneath the table, you adjusted your feet, “accidentally” stepping on his shoe with one sharp heel.

The curse he muttered in pain under his breath had you smiling as you dove into the conversation, ready to take on a room full of the people who had played the bad guys in your life for so long.

masterlist

[pettyprocrastination]

Dinner for Three

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Valerie Lord x Black!Fem!Reader

OneShot: This is just a non-canon fic! This is basically placed AFTER the timelines of this fic, just a fun little side ficlet surrounding you and the lords after yall get together in celebration of Valentines day!

*If you want to read the rest of the fic so far here's a link to my masterlist where you can find Rip Out Our Seams & Stitch Us Together*

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: profanity, some groping going on and kissing. That's about it! Fluff and talking of self-worth.

Summary: It's Valentine's Day, you decide to treat Valerie to a nice homecooked dinner, Maxwell joins you when he returns home from work.

If the formatting is fucked im sorry tumblr fucked this like three times today im just trying to get it POSTED for you all.

Tag List: @captainsamwlsn @themarcusmoreno @cinewhore @thesadvampire @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @holographic-carmen @honestlystop @thecrimsonsquire @phoenixhalliwell @that-chick212 @phantomnae @goldafterglow

If I forgot to tag you I'm so sorry please let me know!

Notes: BIG thank you to @ficsilike-reblogged who bought me a kofi! I know i was meant to do asomething shorter but i couldn't help myself! Also my usual big thanks for the ever lovely @teaofpeach for editing for me you are an absolute treat my dear ily <3

(i coudn't find any good lasagna gifs the TRAGEDY)

“What in God’s name are you wearing?”

You turned around at the shocked voice to see Valerie standing in the kitchen doorway, red painted lips dropped open.

You grinned and planted your hands on your hips with pride. “My Valentine’s Day outfit! You don’t like it?”

Her face fell flat as she looked you up and down; the main culprit of her disdain was the shirt you wore, buttoned neatly and covered in hearts. “Hon, you look like a cartoon character.”

You wiggled your brows. “A sexy cartoon character?”

“Remind me again why I love you?”

Hearing the word ‘love’ from Valerie Lord would never not send your heart into a frenzy. It had been months since the gala, since they had told you about their feelings with courage brought on my champagne and their own confessions to one another.

They finally had each other, why couldn't they have you as well?

Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t a… learning curve. When it came to the relationship, Valerie was bad at sharing her feelings. Sure, she’d say when she didn’t like somebody, or when she thought certain food tasted bad or when Maxwell’s new cologne smelled like rat shit. But she wouldn’t tell you when she was sad, insecure or felt like she wasn’t enough for the both of you.

Maxwell was too concerned with the outer view of the relationship, as he had been with Valerie since they got married. It was suspicious of course, for him to be seen leaving with a “mystery woman” without his wife around, so he took certain precautions. When out and about, he would take too much time fretting over the cameras and questions than you.

These precautions nearly cost them your relationship, their sweet girl who brought them together and showed them love and care and made them realize while they couldn't live without each other, they couldn’t live without you as well.

But now, they knew this. That you weren’t a fling who could be replaced. Your nimble fingers had stitched their beating hearts back together with a golden thread they wouldn’t dare untie from your own.

You turned away from the heiress and back to the stove as you stirred the red sauce in front of you.

“As abhorrent as that shirt is-” Her voice purred in your ear as her arms slid around your waist and pulled your back flush against her- “I love you in those jeans.”

You chuckled and kept your eyes on the task at hand as you slowly stirred. “As much of a compliment that is, Mrs. Lord, why don’t you keep those hands to yourself until I put this on the stove, alright?”

She hummed, contemplative before pressing her lips to the crook of your neck. “So mean to me baby.”

Her hands toyed with your belt loop, a painted nail hooking your shirt and slowly sliding it out from where it was tucked.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Valerie.”

“What? Can’t I show my pretty baby some love on Valentines day?”

“Not while I’m cooking on a hot stove, little-miss-gropey.” A quick slap to her wrist with the wooden spoon made her yelp and yank her hands away from you.

“Bitch!”

You turned and pursed your lips. “Aww, poor baby, want me to kiss it better?”

She grumbled under her breath, taking in the splattered food on her wrist from the spoon before swiping her finger through it and bringing it to her mouth.

“Maybe you can kiss my ass instea- Oh, damn that’s good.”

Her eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of such a high and mighty woman licking the back of her hand.

“Is that-”

“Basil?” She hummed at the taste. “I’m glad you enjoy it. It’s my father’s recipe.”

Valerie watched you as you cooked. Methodically adding each ingredient while humming along to the radio and swaying from side to side. 

“You don’t talk about him much.”

Valerie knew you were different than her and Maxwell. Your childhood wasn’t full of flashing cameras, propping questions, and hiding tears behind fake smiles to reporters. When your father was brought up in conversation, you didn’t bristle or change the subject. You would smile. 

She wasn’t jealous of that joy. That love you had from your family. She’s grateful for it, that amongst the struggles you had, there was also support and happiness. 

“He doesn’t come up in conversation often.” Valerie’s hands once more wrapped around your waist, but simply settled at your hips. Her body was flush with your own and she let her head rest on your shoulder, gently swaying with you as you continued to cook. 

“Tell me about him.”

She saw the small smile that graced your lips, mourning and grateful all at once as you spoke of him. 

“He used to say that as people, we’re a collection of those around us. The ones we’ve loved. All their little mannerisms and tics become a part of who we are. And that we do the same for other people who love us.” 

As you slowly set the pasta onto the bottom of the pan and began to layer the sauce, she wondered who you were an amalgamation of. Was the way you tilted your head back as you laughed from an old flame? 

Was the way you sang and shook your hips from a best friend when you were young, who you wished had been more?

Were the soft kisses you press to the tip of their noses something given to you? Or an act of love learned by watching your parents?

Did you have anything of hers? Of Max’s? 

Did they have anything of yours? 

“I see it in you and Max, yanno.” You stepped back to open the oven and settle the pan on the top rack before shutting it. “You both do a lil’ nose scrunch when you get angry.”

“What?” She drew back from your body, unintentionally wrinkling her nose in the process. “We do not.”

You pulled her close to your body again. Your arms settled around her waist as you slowly moved side to side. You hummed along to the smooth voice of Grover Washington Jr. that danced from the radio and filled the large kitchen, empty except for the two of you. 

“Sure do. You're also both very boujee-”

“Hey.”

“A touch temperamental-”

“I’ll give you that one but-"

“As well as emotionally constipated-”

“Excuse me?”

“And yet-” You hummed, letting your head drop forward to rest against hers, nose bumping against hers in a gentle caress- “I can’t help but love you both every damn day.”

Her blue eyes widened, before she groaned and shoved her face into your shirt. 

“You fucking sap.” She lifted her head to yours and kissed you. The melody curled around you as she wrapped her arms around your neck and tugged you flush against her. A soft moan broke from her lips as you ran your hands over the plush skin of her ass. 

You pulled away long enough to press a kiss to the tip of her nose, giggling when her face scrunched up in response. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Val."

Valerie Lord never thought she’d have this. This love and security. The ability to smile and kiss and dance on a Sunday night in the arms of a lover. She didn’t think she’d ever have a day where she felt love, a love she wasn’t afraid to admit. 

Especially to two people. 

The pair of you danced in silence, listening to the lyrics that serenaded the way you spun her and the laugh that bubbled up her chest her perfect, pinned, blonde curls came loose. 

And darling when the morning comes

And I see the morning sun

I wanna be the one with you.

When Maxwell came home, he noticed how quiet the house was. No chatter or footsteps along the hardwood floors. He knew what day it was, of course he did. He wasn’t an idiot. Valentine’s Day wasn’t a special day with the Lords. It never had been. 

But of course, that was before they met you.

Maxwell never saw that love with his parents. His mother was cold and cruel, and while his father was a good man, he knew he didn’t love her. He didn’t blame him for it. But now he felt it. The way his heart would hammer against his ribs so hard he wondered if you could hear him. The way all his stress and anger would melt away the moment Valerie’s hands held his face in a grasp like that used to carry a bird with a broken wing. 

He didn’t think it was possible to love. To desire and need somebody as much as he did you two. Now he did, and he wouldn’t go back to a life without it for all the money and power in the world. 

The sound of smooth sax caught his attention. Slowly, he set down his briefcase and followed the music until he found himself in front of the kitchen. 

This. Maxwell thought as he watched the two of you, your eyes shut as you held one another in a close embrace as swayed. This is why he did it all. 

The long hours, the greuling work and idiotic employees. If he could come home to this everyday, it’d all be worth it. 

He leaned against the doorway, watching you two until your own eyes opened and met his. 

“Happy to finally have you with us monopoly-man.”

He snorted at your lovingly crude nickname. “It was a long day at work.” Gone was the fake ‘apple-pie-and-picket-fence’ accent he forced himself to use at work when he spoke and you loved it. To see the real Maxwell was a privilege, one you would never take for granted. 

“Every day at work is a long day for you.”

Before he could retort, his wife unwrapped her arms from you and walked over to her husband. Valerie cupped his face in her hand and led him to her lips with a soft moan. Maxwell melted into the kiss with ease, all thoughts of work and conference calls vanished into thin air as his wife’s fingers carded through his hair. She pulled away with a wet pop and ran a thumb over the smudged lipstick on his face. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

Maxwell let his hand run over her bottom lip with a lazy smile. She was magnificent like this. Not preened or pinned or posed. She was messy and unkempt and happy. She never looked more breathtaking than in those moments. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey.”

Her eyes flicked over his crisp suit and her sweet smile was replaced with a groan. 

“Son of a bitch you fuckers are matching!”

You shrieked with laughter while Valerie pointed an accusatory finger at the heart-covered tie that lay on her husband’s chest. 

“You tacky traitor!”

You leaned over and pressed your lips to his cheek, his hand coming to rest at the small of your back. 

“Aw don’t worry, Max. She’s just jealous she isn't matching with us.”

Valerie reared back. “I’ll be caught dead before I ever-”

“Alastair sent them to us.”

A moment of silence passed before she spoke again, more offended than annoyed. 

“And he didn’t send one for me?”

Maxwell smirked at his wife, fishing out a small white box and presenting it to her. 

“Our son knows his mother wouldn’t be caught dead in anything with gaudy patterns.” He opened the box and she took in the red heart earrings with a smile. 

Which was ultimately ruined by you. 

“Aw, he boujee just like his mama!”

Before either one could snap back at you, a small ding sounded through the kitchen and you moved quickly over to the oven. 

“You know-” Maxwell spoke as he put the earrings on his wife with gentle hands- “We have a chef for a reason.”

You brought out the pan and set it onto the stove, taking in the savory smell with a proud smile. 

“Well, fine then. Go get your cook to make you dinner if you want to complain.”

“Wait. Wait, no that not- that’s not what I meant- I’m starving, please.”

Valerie moved around her husband, taking a bottle of red wine and bumping his hip with hers. “Just set the table Maxwell, we both know how you can make it up to her later. It’s a special day after it all.”

Her husband loosened his tie and grinned at you in a way that made you think he wanted to eat you for dinner instead of the meal you prepared. 

“Lovely idea, darling.”

[matildashoney]

Golden

an ‘all i’ve ever known’ first look.

MOODBOARD // TAGS // PLAYLIST // TAGLIST

let’s talk about harry and amelie!

“Not letting you listen to the album all about you in your studio,” Harry says, holding his hand out and waiting at the door of the art studio. “I’m taking you on a drive so you can hear it how it’s meant to be heard.”

“But it’s not even out yet. I want to wait until it’s released, like I always do,” Amelie pouts, holding her paintbrush between her fingers and wiping the excess paint on the linen tarp beneath her.

“Only want you to hear the first song.” Harry walks into the studio and turns the stereo off. “Can listen to the singles and all that, or repeat one, on the way home and then I’ll let you listen to the rest later.” His mouth tugs into a smile as she rolls her eyes, setting her paintbrush down and beginning to twist the caps onto the tubes of paint. “Have to listen to this one as the sun is setting because it’s based on a conversation we had at sunset, and yeah. Trust me on this one.”

“You say that as if I don’t,” Amelie laughs, shaking her head and walking towards him. Harry reaches out for her hand, kissing her hairline as he flicks the light to the studio off and they make their way to the garage, his hands pulling his keys off the hook and mumbling a goodbye to their cat before Amelie is yanking her hand away and bounding up the stairs. “Hold on, I forgot my ring!”

“Only going for a drive!” Harry calls, laughing as he opens the door and waits for her to rush through the walkway and into the garage with him. “All better?”

“Much,” she smiles, running her fingers through her hair and slipping her sunglasses – the sunnies she bought for their holiday last summer that are shaped like hearts on the eyes – on her nose before turning to face him. “Alright, it’s golden hour and we’re about to drive on the highway. Care to tell me what song we’re listening to?”

Harry’s teeth bite into his bottom lip, squeezing her thigh and turning the radio on, his phone connecting through the bluetooth and the chimes beginning to play before it could be paused. “I will, but, I want to share something first.”

Amelie raises her eyebrows suggestively, holding her breath while Harry backs out of the drive into the street, his hand holding her thigh as they begin to navigate out of their neighbourhood and to the furthest end of the highway. “Share with the class, Mr Styles.”

“Fine Line is about you,” Harry starts, sucking in a deep breath and taking the moment in traffic to meet Amelie’s stare, “about the good and the bad that we’ve gone through, especially over the last year. All that we’ve done, all that I’ve done, is because of you reminding me that life is the good and the bad times. I tell you this all the time, but I do this all because of you.” Amelie nods, squeezing his hand on her leg. “This song, “Golden”, is about the day before we started writing in the studio, and we sat on the beach and we talked about everything, and how you always feel like the first instinct you have is to shy away from me, to not be vulnerable.” His tongue wets his lips, the hum of the engine filling the void silence between his words. “Made me think about how in the first few weeks we met, that we became friends, I was so vulnerable with you, telling you about Mum and Dad, telling you about the things going on with the band, m’anxiety and all that. That night, you told me that you might not ever be that open, but it meant a lot that I was. And two weeks later you told me about Jack.” Harry’s throat bobs as he swallows down any tears in his eyes. “Never told you this, but you have no idea how much that meant to me, that you told me; not because of what it meant for our relationship afterwards, but because it meant that you trusted me.”

“Always have,” Amelie says, taking Harry’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “Baby, it’s alright.”

“Fuck. Know it’s alright, ‘s just, yeah,” Harry sniffles, taking a turn and parking in the cove at the beginning of the highway, his eyes meeting hers as she pushes her sunglasses into her hair to properly look at him. “That night we were at the beach and you told me that you get scared with how open I am sometimes; it gave me this idea. I was staring at you, and you hadn’t dyed your hair the peach colour yet and it was still a bit blonde and the sun was setting over you and I couldn’t get it out of my head that you were as bright as the bloody sun. And that reminded me of the years of other memories that have to do with you and the sun and that’s where the name came from.” Harry smiles so wide Amelie swears that his cheeks are going to ache, and then she realises that she’s smiling exactly the same. “This song you have to listen to driving down Pacific Coast. It’s a coast song.”

Amelie’s eyes are so bright under the setting sun that Harry swears he could go blind. “Let’s listen, then. You have a show tomorrow and I want to listen to the album at midnight.”

Harry shifts the gear and reverses onto the highway, turning the song on and cranking the volume, rolling their windows down and soaking in the way Amelie’s smile changes into one that is wide enough to reach her cheeks and her eyes are squeezing shut to have only the music in her ears, all of her senses working to take in the vocals and the melodies and the chimes and the guitar and the drums. His hand is on her thigh, his thumb rubbing the skin lightly as her tongue wets her lips and soaks in the beginning moments of the song, no vocals or lyrics.

Golden, golden, golden as I open my eyes. Hold it, focus, hoping, take me back to the light.

“Harry, your voice,” Amelie says, eyes wide and staring, shaking her head and staring out the window, the ocean passing in a blue haze beneath them. “Already, I love it.”

You’re so golden. You’re so golden. I’m out of my head, and I know that you’re scared because hearts get broken.

“Holy shit.” Amelie’s eyelashes are wet, her thumb brushing away a stray tear as she sucks in a deep breath and swallows any tears threatening to fall, wanting to fully immerse in the song before giving her thoughts and sentiment. “All in one go, you wrote this?” Harry nods and smiles at her warmly.

I don’t wanna be alone. I can feel it take a hold, I can feel you take control, of who I am and all I’ve ever known. Loving you’s the antidote.

“Harry.”

Harry smiles, “To be fair, you are all I’ve ever known. All of my twenties are with you. All of me becoming an adult.”

Amelie stares at Harry as if the words that have come out of his mouth are that of a revelation that should be spoken about until the end of time, until they no longer have air in the lungs or beats in their heart. His words are truthful, honest. Because they have been together for nearly the entirety of their twenties. Her twenty-fifth birthday was barely over a month ago, Harry’s twenty-sixth coming soon. They’ve known each other since Harry was barely twenty-one, and the growing that they’ve done together is more than either of them could have imagine being apart. Harry’s being honest, yes, but there is also a sentiment to his words, that they’re all each other has known, that they know everything about each other, the good and the bad, and have been through life together. Amelie thinks that she learns something new about Harry every day, a new quirk or habit, sometimes it’s something that Harry doesn’t even notice himself, and it reminds her that they’re friends, first and foremost, at the beginning of everything, they’re best friends.

“All that we go through,” Harry says, cutting Amelie out of her thoughts, “I know that as long as I get to love you, I’ll be okay. We’ll be alright. Hence, ‘loving you’s the antidote’. It’s like, loving you is the solve for it all. It’s pretty cliché, to be fair, but love is pretty cliché.”

“Love is both skill and enthusiasm,” Amelie smiles, leaning over the centre console and kissing Harry’s cheek. “Think we’re doing alright with both.”

“I’ll say,” he laughs, reaching for her left hand and lifting it slightly, nodding to the diamond ring sitting on her third finger.

Amelie gasps, undoing her seatbelt and scrambling into the backseat, mumbling under her breath as Harry stares at her through the rear-view mirror and bites his nails worriedly, asking to have her come back to the front and buckle in her seatbelt for her safety. “Can you please put on your seatbelt? Gon’a scare me half to death, I swear.”

“Needed to grab a polaroid and we left our second one in here after last weekend.”

“Need it for what?”

“Have to take a picture of us listening to the album for the first time. Did it with the first and I want to keep the tradition.”

Amelie kisses Harry’s cheek, again, as she manoeuvres her way to the passenger seat, prepping the camera and leaning into his chest, smiling as the flash goes and the picture is taken with Harry kissing her hair and her smiling at him, “Watermelon Sugar” beginning to sound through the speakers.

“Looks cute,” Amelie grins, setting the photo near her phone to ensure that she wouldn’t forget it on her way inside when they get home. “Which song has my voice on it?”

“That’s ‘Cherry’,” Harry says, turning rolling the windows up slightly to alleviate the volume of the wind inside the car. “Can’t listen to that one until midnight.”

“Is that the one you talked about in the Zane Lowe interview?”

“Mean when I said, ‘That’s my girlfriend’s voice’?” Harry asks, smiling as Amelie’s fingers lace through his, squeezing his hand sweetly. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Not too sure how we’re going to keep hiding everything when we make slip ups like that, Harry,” Amelie hums, her elbow propped on the windowsill, her cheek resting in her palm as she stares at him. “Not that it matters all that much anymore, I mean, it’s been almost five years.”

“Having your name on the album is going to have some conversation stir.”

Her hand sticks out the window, the ocean breeze waving against her palm and the sun shining over her face as she lays her cheek against her arm. Malibu is breezy for December, and it’s nice, it reminiscent of London which has become closer to home than Los Angeles or Malibu have ever felt. “Have to be careful about where we’re taking pictures tomorrow night.”

“Make sure we tell Helene in the morning. Jeff said that there have been fans camping all week for the show,” he says, his fingers tapping along her inner thigh as the trumpets sound through the speakers. “How’s your tattoo?”

“Healing nicely, I’d say,” she shrugs, looking at the freshly inked flower on her forearm, one single flower that they got together, matching, after her birthday. “Met me with two tattoos,” she hums, pausing for a second to count the tattoos scattered on her arms and torso, “Now, I have six. How do you feel?”

“Very attracted to you at all times,” Harry laughs, squeezing her thigh a bit tighter and bellowing a laugh as she smacks his hand away. “I adore you; you know that?”

Her voice is etched with sarcasm and teasing in the most flirtatious way. “Oh, so that’s why you wrote a song about me and named it that. Good to know. I wasn’t sure.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “To be fair, I write a lot of songs about you, Ames.”

“Fair enough,” Amelie giggles, sitting upright in her seat and leaning over to kiss the corner of his mouth, turning the volume louder and letting the salty breeze wash over her skin. “Are you excited for tomorrow?”

“I am,” Harry nods, brushing his fingers through his hair and taking a moment to admire Amelie staring mindlessly out to the sea. Moving to Malibu was their best decision at the beginning of the year. “Have the setlist finalised, Fine Line all the way through, Stevie is coming to sing ‘Landslide’ with me.” His eyes run over Amelie’s face, the way she’s listening to him so adamantly and adoringly. “Have you there. ‘s all that counts at the end of it.”

“Doing that ‘Behind the Show’ thing, aren’t you? I’ll have to make myself scarce,” she laughs, tugging her tie out of her hair and letting the waves fall over her shoulders. Her hair was meant to be dyed light blue two weeks earlier, and then there was a delayed flight from New York and a stressful reschedule, and there they were, dying her hair pink to match the album cover a week before the album was set to release. Harry always loved that about Amelie, the expression and the change, it was felt very natural, very her.

“Mean, how horrible would it be if you were in it? One day the world is going to find out.”

“One day the world will know, yeah,” she says, humming along to the melody of the very first released song of the album and laying her hand over her heart, “but maybe we should do that when you’re not releasing the best album of the year.”

“Already have the ring, Cherry,” Harry snorts, indicating his turn and navigating back to the highway to head home. Only a few more hours until the album would be officially released, and they could listen to its entirety. “Don’t really have to flatter me all that much.”

“How many nicknames do you have for me, now? You say Ames and Cherry. Doll. Angel,” Amelie teases, her fingers lacing through Harry’s as he lays his palm open on her thigh. “Going to add any else any time soon?”

“Wife sounds like a good one to add to the list.”

Amelie turns away from Harry, her cheeks flushed and a blushing colour adorning her skin. “Harry Styles, if you say that one more time, I will be leaning over and sucking your dick as you drive us home. Give you road head or summat for saying a thing like that.”

“You say that like I’ve just said something horrible!” Harry bellows, his laugh making her want to cry out of pure joy, the squeak and giggle that follows suit making her heart so swollen she swears it could break her ribs in half. “Asked you to marry me because I want you to be my wife. Therefore, I’d call you m’wife.”

“I’ll lean over and unbutton your trousers, right now. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Amelie Fay!”

“Do you know how many years I waited to hear you say those words? Too many,” Amelie breathes, her sunglasses pushed into her hair and her eyes meeting his. “My wife sounds hot coming from you.”

Harry shakes his head with a smile, “Heading back home so that we can have dinner and you can finish working because we have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Got me all bothered, now,” she sighs, sinking into her seat and letting the glasses fall over her eyes with her hair tugging along. “Come and keep me company in the studio? Have to finish one of the imitation pieces for the Kahlo Exhibition that’s in Italy this summer.”

“That’s the one I’ll be able to come to, right?” he asks, his mind trying to remember the dates for the exhibits that align with the tour dates they scheduled nearly six months ago. Amelie wanted Harry there, and that isn’t something to take lightly. “Don’t want to miss that.”

Amelie nods, smirking at Harry and taking in the way his features are tightly wound with nerves and anxiety for the evening, his hand swiftly pausing the music before the remaining eight songs can play through the stereo for her to listen to early.

“Quit looking at me like that,” Harry says, smacking her thigh and bringing his hand to his legs, laughing when Amelie furrows his brows at him and laces their fingers together to bring his hand back where it belongs, as she would say.

“Can see why you named the song what you did, baby.”

“Why’s that?” Harry muses, wanting to hear her understanding even though he’s given her the entire reasoning behind the song already. Amelie’s interpretations were always so unique, so interesting to him.

“Because I’m looking at you, right now, and the sun is right there, and it looks like you’ve created the whole universe just like that.” Her tongue wets her lips for a moment. “Like you just shine brighter than every star. Golden, it’s what you are, I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s like a feeling, isn’t it? Isn’t that how you felt? Like you’re looking at the sun and there is nothing else that would ever look the way this does.”

“That’s exactly how it felt.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　✧･ﾟ

i wasn’t thinking about posting a preview for the sequel for another few weeks into august, but with this challenge going around i thought it was the perfect opportunity! thank you to @helladirections​ for making the summer fic challenge that this prompt was part of!

welcome to the world of harry and amelie, for a second time. this is a scene from the sequel that quite literally fulfils the vibe of ‘driving down the pacific coast highway’ and introduces the song that started it all! their story is one that i love so much and i hope you start to fall in love with them all over again.

[ezrasarm]

Funeral Suit

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Warnings: Angst (I know, unheard of in Marcus fics), 10 ply fluff

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Y’know how some stories just sort of fall into place without even having to think about it? This was one of those. It was inspired by the song “Funeral Suit” by Lisa Hannigan. There’s also another song that I’ve embedded in here because multimodality is a wonderful thing!

It wasn’t too late but it was late enough that you were a little confused when a soft knock sounded from your door. Getting up to look through the peep hole you were surprised by who you saw to say the least. “Marcus?” You mumbled still in slight disbelief when you opened the door. You hadn’t even processed that he was back in town. He stood there, gaze cast down on his shoes as he rocked back and forth on his heels nervously. He wore a jet black suit and it reminded you of something he’d told you ages ago. Black suits were reserved solely for weddings and funerals in his book. He thought they made him look too serious. He must have come straight here from the reception and the idea made your stomach churn with guilt. 

“Yeah,” he muttered before flitting his gaze up to your eyes and you noticed a slight blush had risen to his cheeks. “Sorry, this was a dumb idea. I should have given you a heads up first or something.” He said, a self deprecating chuckle escaping him as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. When you still hadn’t said anything he shook his head with a slight huff, taking a step back and motioning to turn away, maybe even leave. The thought of that made your heart lurch in your chest.

“Wait, Marcus.” You said, catching his wrist and the touch sent a spark of familiarity up your arm. God, you had missed him. “Come in.” You said, and as though muscle memory had completely taken over your actions, you were pulling him into a tight hug, one arm looped around the back of his neck pulling his head down to your shoulder while your other arm wrapped around his back. You swear you fit together like puzzle pieces. This is exactly what home felt like. 

“I saw your parents.” He hummed into your neck, not quite ready to pull away from your embrace.

“I just got off the phone with them. They said it was a beautiful reception.” You noted, only now pulling away so you could look him in the eye. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I couldn’t get out of this shift.” You explained, remorse set in the slight furrowing of your brow knowing that you had taken the shift quite purposefully. It was only now that he had even realized you were still in your work clothes and suddenly he felt like an idiot again. You must have been exhausted. He recalled the long phone calls he’d spend with you when you first started this job years ago. Long hours and emotionally draining shifts. He had so much admiration for you. He was about to make up an excuse to leave and let you get some rest but you beat him to it. “Hows your mum doing with all of this?” You asked, shutting the door behind him. You wanted him to stay? He thought, as he followed you into the kitchen where you poured both him and yourself a glass of whiskey before leaning back against the counter. The room was dim lit, illuminated only by the warm lamplight pouring in from the living room. “She’s a little shaken up but she’s doing okay.”He explained and you nodded in understanding. “He was the love of her life.” He added and you remembered watching the two of them as a kid and thinking how much you would like to grow up to have a love like theirs.  

“And you?” you asked. A long pause fell over the two of you as he contemplated the question. It was filled only by the soft crackle from the radio you had switched on the moment you got in the door to drown out the overwhelming silence of your empty apartment. 

“Leah and I got divorced.” He said through a clearing of his throat, arms folded over his chest as he leaned back against the island across from you. It wasn’t the answer you were expecting and judging by the look on his face after he said it, neither was he. You recalled his mum telling you that when you had gone over for dinner with your parents a couple years ago. You wondered why he wasn’t the one to tell you. You may not have heard from him for a while before hand but you always expected that he would be able to talk to you about things like that. Of course you’d seen him around since. Family events and what not. The two of you could never seem to avoid each other for too long even if you were trying. He was at your sister’s wedding the year before last but you had been so busy trying to keep everything on the rails and the stress away from her that you hardly got more than a side hug and a rushed “How are you?” “I’m good.” Out of him. You would be lying if you said it hadn’t stung a little.

“Yeah, I heard about that...” You replied. This time you were the one who was suddenly interested in studying the floor. 

“Then I got engaged again.” He said and your eyebrows shot up in surprise. That message clearly hadn’t made it through the grapevine. You had to gulp back the urge to blurt out “Again?” but he was already snuffing out his statement. “She uh… well that didn’t work out either.” He said with a shake of his head. You could tell the wounds were still fresh from the way he was wringing his hands out. 

“Jesus, Marcus.” You sigh, something between a compassionate and pitying smile taking over your face. It was a look he had grown to recognize on people’s faces ever since the failure of his first marriage. Now with his second relationship disaster and his dad dying it seemed to be the only way anyone ever looked at him anymore. “When are we gonna find you a girl who sticks around long enough to see how perfect you are?” You ask, knocking your foot lightly against his in a gesture he didn’t think you recognized the reassurance of. After all this time, after all the things that had happened it felt like you two were falling right back into the same dynamic you had always known from one another.

The song on the radio changed over to Roberta Flack’s version of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” and Marcus huffed. A soft smirk rose on his lips. “You still listen to this station?” He asked, remembering quite clearly that time you told him that you liked how informative the hosts were and that the songs they played always reminded you of when he used to play jazz. You nodded, giving him a slightly curious look when he stepped a little closer to you, taking the drink from your hand and setting them both on the counter behind you. His hands found your own and his fingers intertwined with yours as he pulled you into the clearing in the kitchen, placing your hands on his shoulders and his own on your waist. 

“Remember prom?” You chuckled now at the familiarity of the situation as you fell into the same slightly awkward slow sway. 

“You mean that asshole who dumped you mid dance? No, not at all.” Marcus added sarcastically and you laughed. Marcus had come to your rescue when your own date had run off with the girl he had had a crush on. 

“Okay, it was actually kind of sweet. He only asked me because he thought he couldn’t get her.” You argued, knocking into his chest with a soft thud. 

“Yeah, that’s called being an asshole!” He exclaimed. This was most certainly not the first time you’d had this conversation. “You know I will never understand your unwavering ability to see the good in people.” He said with a slight shake of his head. “That guy didn’t know what he was missing.” He concluded and the sincerity in the look he gave you made you blink back the encroaching sting of tears. Needless to say Marcus’s own date (and later, wife), Leah, was less than enthralled when he excused himself to go and cheer you up. He got quite the earful afterwords.

“Hey, where’s James?” He asked now, head shooting up and his body going slightly ridged at the thought of how much trouble he’d gotten into. Jamie had been your boyfriend of five years. Marcus had never taken to calling him that though. You lived together before the two of you had broken up over what he referred to as “unsurmountable differences”.

“He’s not in the picture anymore.” You said simply and he chose not to press anymore than that. His arms tightening around your waist a little more as his chin came to rest on top of your head and your so called dancing turned into more of a prolonged swaying hug that neither of you quite had the guts to call out.

“What did you mean?” You whispered into his chest after a while, not fully intending for him to hear you. But when he pulled his head back and gave you a curious look you knew you had to explain yourself.

“Just before your wedding ceremony.” You clarified. That must have been the last time you spoke this openly with one another. After that you just drifted apart. Things- people got in the way. “I asked you if you were nervous and you said you were terrified but not for the reason I thought you were.” You prompted him. You knew he remembered. You could recall so clearly that look in his eyes like there was something he wanted to tell you before his brother burst in saying they needed him. That way he stuttered through his vows and the look he gave you when you went to give him a nod of encouragement seemed to be burned into your memory. It wasn’t entirely unlike the look he was giving you now, lips parted and eyes pleading as he sucked in a shaky breath.

“Everyone said I was too young.” He said. “Turns out they were right.” He chuckled bitterly, a twinge of regret being swept up from where he had locked it away long ago. “But I wasn’t scared of married life. I knew I wanted to settle down.” He explained. You knew this well about him already. He was all about that white picket fence and golden retriever running around the front lawn. “With Leah we were getting so serious it seemed like the obvious next step- God I was so stupid.” He interrupted himself and you squeezed his hand gently as you waited for him to recollect his thoughts. “I thought marriage was the answer. That it would make it go away-” 

When your brows furrowed in confusion Marcus paused, suddenly feeling he had revealed too much. He hoped you had missed it, that he could brush it under the rug like he hadn’t said it all but when you asked “Make what go away?” with a hint of concern dawned on your face, he sighed.

“You really don’t know do you?” He asked, the gentle sway the two of you had found suddenly falling short as he steadied your hips.

“Know what?” You asked, the oblivious look on your face completely irresistible to him as he slid his hands down your arms to lock in your own. 

“It should have been you standing at that alter with me.” He said and a look of utter confusion crossed your face.

“I was…” You said, eyes narrowing at him as you wondered how after all that fuss Leah had made he could forget that you were his best “man”.

“On the other side of me.” He corrected you. Your mouth fell into a disbelieving ‘O’ as it finally dawned on you what he had meant. With the look on your face Marcus was just getting ready to backpedal himself out of his abrupt confession when you reached a hand up to place on his face. Your fingers tangled in the hairs at the nape of his neck as you brushed your thumb over his cheekbone lightly, drawing out the anticipation as you brought your lips to his own in a teary eyed kiss you were pretty sure had been in the making since the two of you could talk. Everything about it felt so natural as he wrapped an arm around your waist, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your lower back, pulling you into him as though he couldn’t stand an inch of distance between you after the years you had wasted apart. You swore you were built to fit into his embrace as your lips danced over one another. When you finally pulled apart to breathe, his own eyes had gained a glossy film as he pressed his forehead against yours. You managed to catch a “You feel the same way?” through his breathlessness.

“Its always been you, Marcus.” You hummed back, your fingertips dragging up and down the back of his neck lightly and sending a welcomed shiver down his spine.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” He asked, the his thumb coming to brush the edge of your jawline gently.

“Because I was the girl who ran half naked through your sprinkler when I was three years old! I didn’t think you looked at me that way!” You exclaimed and he threw his head back with laughter.

“And I was the kid who threw up at your dining room table because I ate my dessert too fast. I don’t think I’m allowed to throw stones here.” He chuckled softly as his laughter died down and he brought his lips to meet yours again. A soft and delicate kiss before you pulled him back into a hug like the ones you had been sharing all your life.

“I’m sorry about your dad.” You murmured to him finally, knowing thats why he was here. Why he was standing in your kitchen at ten at night in his funeral suit, looking for something that felt like home.

“Me too.” He mumbled back. “He always said you were good for me... I think I know what he meant now.”

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