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neon-junkie · 4 years

Text

Sinners Prayer

Summary: Dutch has asked you and Micah to tag along for the evening at the Mayor's party, but the catch is that you two have to go as a pretend married couple.

Pairing: Micah Bell x f!Reader

Word Count: 6557

Rating: SFW

Tags: Friends to lovers, Strangers to lovers, Fake relationship/marriage, Saint Denis, Shady Belle, Party, Dress up, Formalwear, Slow burn, First kiss, Flirting.

Notes: God I LOVED writing this, which is why it's sooooo long. I've had this fic idea lingering in my head for months now as I'm a sucker for the whole fake couple/marriage trope, but it feels so good to finally write this<3

Obsessed is a strong word to use, especially when it's relating to a stranger. But maybe it was the right word because you found yourself swooning over this man over and over, despite barely ever speaking to him. You were in the same camp, sure, but that didn't mean much apart from sometimes riding by his side during a mission, or sitting on the same log as him at the campfire. You'd exchanged few words and you somewhat hoped it'd stay that way, knowing exactly the kind of man he was.

Was this secret obsession something to do with past trauma? your previous encounter with a toxic man that you thought you'd gotten over? or was Micah really just meant to be yours?

But seriously... Micah. Micah Bell. Micah Bell the third, in fact, because somehow his shitty family had managed to breed more than once.

You want to feel sick every time you see him, you really do, just like everybody else in existence does, but you find yourself gazing at him from the other side of camp every single day, so drawn to various little bits of him.

There's the scar on his chin, the one that starts at his split lip, and you're curious as to how he got it, but not as curious as to if you'd be able to feel it when you press your lips against his. You try to tell yourself that his facial hair is stupid, but he always keeps it so neat and clean, and you can't help but wonder what that 'stache would feel like brushing over your thighs as he kissed along them. And his hair, his scraggy shoulder-length hair, the dirty blonde locks that you just want to run your fingers along and grip onto if you had the chance to ride him.

You're doing it again.

You give your head a little shake as you snap out of your daydream, straightening your back and taking a swig of your drink. It's late, and you're enjoying a beer before bed after finishing your shift on guard duty. Micah's sat at his usual space by the campfire in your line of view, and thankfully you haven't zoned out staring at him else, well, that'd be embarrassing.

Micah also seems zoned out, staring at the fire with his hands dangling freely down his sides, one ankle crossed over the other. He lets out a sigh and rolls his head back, staring up at the stars before looking over at you.

Oh shit.

You quickly look away, taking another sip from your drink. You can feel Micah's gaze still on you, but when you do finally peek over, he's back to staring at the fire.

You've accidentally met his gaze a few times before, a mix of you meeting his, and him meeting yours. At least it wasn't always you staring at him, he seems to have an interest in you too, though the two of you rarely ever interacted. Micah had, for some reason, kept his distance from you, despite his blatant and poor attempts of flirting with other women of the camp. Maybe you just weren't his type? But then why would he always stare at you?

Your beer is finally finished and you turn in for the night, following your nightly routine and climbing under your blankets, only to stare at the tent walls and think about Micah.

Ugh. That man, if you can even call him one.

You're a sinner, just like the rest of this crazy bunch that you run with, but it seems whatever Gods float about in the sky continue to ignore your prayers, despite them being desperate.

Please, please can they just stop this attraction to him? Please. There were so many better men out there, a handful of which you run with, but you find yourself worryingly obsessed with this foul man, yet you can't seem to stop it.

You roll onto your side, letting your eyes fall shut and as always, drift to sleep with the hopes that you won't be obsessed when morning comes.

Morning does come, and oh boy, does it hit you hard.

Dutch was quick to call you upstairs to the balcony by his room, telling you to finish your breakfast first, but hurry up as soon as possible.

"It's a party," Dutch tells you. "The mayors' party," Dutch smirks, raising his hands as if he was waiting for you to jump with joy.

"And...?" you question.

"Well. I've picked a fine bunch to tag alongside me, but I'm asking you specifically to help with a special task. Myself, Hosea, Arthur, and Bill will be mingling as singles, but we need a couple to go. We need a couple to weave their way in there with all the others and see what they can find. Maybe get invited to some fancy private getaway or... whatever it is those upper-class city folk do in their free time," Dutch explains, speaking with his hands as always.

"Dutch," you laugh. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm unfortunately single," you tell him as you shake your head.

"I know, just like the rest of camp, but I'll make suitable arrangements for you, my dear," Dutch replies.

"What about John and Abigail?" you ask, the only couple that springs to mind.

"I wouldn't dare ask them, not after that whole fiasco that happened with our dear boy Jack," Dutch says as he shakes his head. "You can say no if you want to, but I could really do with this."

You let out a sigh but then ask "what arrangements are you thinking?"

"Well..." Dutch begins. "I wanted you to be a part of this job to begin with, I knew that as a fact. You've got a good charm and I've seen you gussy up folks before. You know exactly what you're doing, and I need that strength right now," Dutch compliments, though his tone of voice and the way his eyes begin to avoid yours makes you fear for the worst.

"Trelawny's going to take you into the city to pick out a dress for you, the women have already said they'll help get you ready for the party-"

"Dutch. Who am I going with?" you cut him off, noticing the way he's avoiding the elephant in the room.

"I put a lot of thought into this, ___. I really have. I've gone through all the members of the camp-"

"Dutch," you sigh as you cut him off again. "Just tell me."

"Micah," Dutch says as his eyes meet yours. "Like I said, you can say no if you'd like. I just know the two of you would be able to make this work, and I could really do with this," he explains.

"Have you already asked him?" you question.

"I have, and he said he's happy with it if you're happy with it," Dutch tells you as he watches your expressions and body language, though you surprise him as you show no signs of discomfort.

"Alright, I'll do it," you shrug.

"Thank you, my dear," Dutch grins as he places a hand on your shoulder. "It's this evening. Trelawny will be waiting for you outside the tailors in Saint Denis, and make sure you're ready a little early. I want time to run through the plan before we set off."

The Gods were definitely mocking you at this point, sat up there on their high horses, laughing and pointing down at you as they continued to worsen your situation. Really? A party with posh folk? And you have to pretend to be a couple with Micah? You barely know him for starters. What if you two really weren't meant to get along? The last thing you wanted to do was cause a scene after Dutch had asked you so kindly to go in there and fish out information for him.

Trelawny seemed in his usual cheery mood when you met him, helping you pick out something nice. Honestly, the dress is gorgeous, and you feel beautiful wearing it. You have no problem playing dress up, sometimes secretly looking forward to it as you rarely get an occasion to wear something other than your usual attire.

The women shower you with compliments as they help do your makeup, picking out some nice matching jewelry that compliments your facial features, along with a pretty necklace that seemed to draw even more attention to your cleavage. You haven't worn a corset in a while, and the sight of your boobs bulging up against your chest was clearly meant to be a distraction to try and lore out some weaker men. Maybe Micah would end up dragging them off to the side, only to knock their lights out and loot them for "looking at my woman!"

Ugh. Your stomach hadn't stopped turning like a stormy sea the second Dutch had told you who you were going with. You hadn't seen Micah around the camp all afternoon, probably mentally preparing himself for whatever shit-show that was about to happen.

Well, you were ready.

Mary-Beth was quick to run out of the house and draw everybody's attention, attempting to give you some kind of grand reveal, as if the camp had never seen you in a dress before. They have, but this was the fanciest you'd ever worn; with your hair up in a do that took all afternoon to keep in place, and jewels that perfectly matched the shade of your makeup.

"She's ready!" Mary-Beth squealed, attracting the attention of Dutch and Arthur as they lingered over, the rest of the camp perking up their ears and eyes. "Now, you better all flatter her 'cause she seems a little shy, and we spent all afternoon helpin' get her ready, but-"

"Mary-Beth, please," you sigh as you exit the house, not wanting the grand entrance that she would want. There's still a mix of oo's and aah's throughout the camp, and Susan is quick to rush over and take your hands in hers, looking like she's about to cry.

"My dear, you look so wonderful," Susan tells you.

"Thank you, Miss Grimshaw," you reply as you give her hand a little squeeze.

"She's right, ___. Trelawny and our women have excellent taste. Thank you, all of you," Dutch tells them as he speaks to the camp, then turning back to you. "Are you ready, dear?" he asks.

"Physically, yes. Mentally, no," you joke, though you're serious.

"Well, it'll have to do," Dutch nods.

"My my," a dreaded voice calls out. Micah's approaching, stopping just beside Dutch as he speaks to you. "Ain't no way you can go the party like that, sweetheart. You're gonna knock 'em all dead with them pretty looks of yours," Micah compliments.

Your stomach begins to turn again, though you begin to question if you should curse the gods or thank them, because the sight of Micah in a tux is one you could get used to. He's dressed like the other men, a smart black tux with a white shirt and bowtie. He's clearly had a bath, as his hair looks the cleanest you've ever seen it, nearly bunched into a low ponytail with a few loose strands shaping his face. Micah always keeps his facial hair clean, but it's freshly trimmed and perfectly shaped just underneath his jaw.

You notice Arthur already glaring at him in the corner of your eye. Why Dutch didn't ask Arthur to go with you was beyond your knowledge, but something tells you he has a deeper reason behind picking the two of you to go together.

"Thank you, Mister Bell," you softly reply as your eyes meet his.

"Guess that makes you Mrs. Bell for this evening," Micah smiles. "Don't it, Dutch?" he asks as his eyes quickly turn to Dutch's.

"It does! Now, let's all get going before we're even later than we already are. I'll go over the plan on the way there," Dutch huffs as he waves his gloved hands about, hurrying everybody along to the stagecoach that was waiting.

You're about to walk off, but Micah's sudden movement catches your eye. He offers you his hand. "Gotta look the part, darlin'," he tells you.

"Oh! I just remembered!" Micah says as he suddenly moves his hand away, reaching into his pocket to fish out a pair of gold wedding rings that he no doubt had stolen recently, specifically for this event.

"May I?" Micah asks, holding out his hand again. You take it, your soft palms gently settling in rough ones. He flashes you another smile, then flicks his eyes down to focus sliding the wedding ring onto your finger. The sight of that alone is enough to make your knees go weak, but you try your hardest not to pass out, and thankfully Micah doesn't seem to notice how lovesick you're feeling.

The ring is only slightly too big, and hopefully, you'll notice it if it gets close to slipping off. He quickly slips the other one onto his own finger, and takes your hand again, his eyes finally moving away from yours as he leads you over to the stagecoach, following behind the others.

The ride there isn't too bad, and the plan seems simple enough. Steal nothing, only information. Only your 'husband' was most definitely not going to do that, even if he doesn't tell Dutch about it.

He helps you out the coach, gently tucking your hand around his arm as he walks with you into the party. Surprisingly, Micah didn't bring his guns with him, making a comment to you under his breath about how he doesn't trust anybody with them. That's understandable.

Dutch and Arthur head upstairs to do whatever it is they were going to do, speak to Jack's surrogate father or whatever, leaving you and the others to wait on the balcony.

You rest your hands on the railing, looking down at the mishmash of strangers below. Micah removes his hand from yours, resting it on the small of your back as he turns to speak to you.

"You nervous?" Micah asks.

"I'm sure I won't be after a couple of drinks," you joke, turning your gaze to meet his. You've never seen his expression so soft before, and have his eyes always been that blue? They're an icy shade, maybe a warning sign about his cold heart, but he's making yours burn up with his stupidly sweet smile and that stupid cute little ponytail that he just had to tuck his hair into.

"So now I gotta take care of my drunk wife whilst also lookin' for leads?" Micah jokes back, though there's something about him calling you his 'wife' that makes your stomach turn faster than it ever has before.

"I ain't gonna get drunk!" you laugh. "Your wife can handle herself, thank you very much," you raise your nose jokingly.

"You sure? Cause if I remember rightly, the last time you got drunk you tripped over and almost fell in the campfire," Micah chuckles, watching your expression drop. How did he remember that? That happened months ago!

"I'm a changed woman," you reply, "for tonight," you add.

"Sure you are, Mrs. Bell," Micah grins as he moves a few loose strands off your face. "Then after tonight, you can go back to fallin' into campfires."

"And would my dear husband not save me if he saw me falling into one?" you question.

"I ain't really your husband, sweetheart. Not unless you wanna keep that ring on and keep playin' dress up with me," Micah replies, trying to make it sound like a joke, but you both know that if you said yes, Micah would happily continue your fake marriage.

It's a good thing Dutch arrived when he did, cutting you off as you opened your mouth to speak, but you were thankful as you hadn't even thought of a reply.

Dutch gave you all another pep talk before shooing everybody off on their way, and you were thankful a server passed you as you reached the bottom of the stairs, taking a glass of champagne for yourself and thanking them, Micah grabbing one for himself also.

Your hand finds Micahs arm and he walks with you a while, eyeing up any obvious leads as you pass through the strangers. You come to a stop at the back of the party, pulling Micah to one side as he rests his hand around your waist. God. You could get used to Micah having his hands on you at all times.

"You see anything obvious yet?" you ask Micah before taking a sip of your champagne. At least it was decent, not having that awful cheesy flavour that cheap bottles had.

"I ain't been lookin'," Micah replies, making you snap your eyes over to his with a little scowl on your face.

"What?" you ask.

"Hard to focus on a bunch of snobby strangers when I got this pretty woman clinging onto me," Micah grins. You realize that your hand had come to rest on his forearm as his hand had found your waist, clinging onto him a little too tightly, your body practically pressed up against his. At least the two of you looked like a couple.

You go to take a step back, but Micah is quick to pull you against him more, holding you firmly in place. "I'm jokin', sweetheart," he tells you. "I've spotted a few here 'n' there."

"You better not be lyin'," you tut.

"You not trust your own husband?" Micah smirks, chuckling even whilst he has a sip of his drink. "Besides, we ain't even planned our story yet. How we gonna mingle with other couples when we don't even know how we met? Or when we got married?" Micah asks.

He's right, the two of you had no time to prepare your story, but you're far from earshot of these strangers, so now would be a good time to get your stories straight.

"Well, what have you got planned then? Seeing as you brought this up?" you question.

"Nothin'," Micah shrugs. "I figured I'd ask my lady, seeing as you women tend to fantasize about these situations." You can't deny that, because little does Micah know, you've had a few fantasies about the two of you getting together for quite some time now.

"Do I look like the type for romances, Micah?" you ask.

"Do I?" Micah replies. Good point.

"Well..." you sigh, trying to think of a few ideas. "You plan how we met, and I'll plan our wedding?"

"Sure, darlin'," Micah nods as he finishes off his drink.

"Wait here. I'll go get us a refill," you say as you take Micahs empty glass, finishing off your own, and wandering off back into the party to find your next round of booze.

Micah watches you leave, tucking his hand into his pockets to fish out a cigarette to enjoy whilst he waits and ponders.

Finding a server wasn't hard, and you thanked them as you swapped your glasses over. On your walk back you overheard another couple talking about how they met, saying she was a server on one of the ferries and he was there to gamble, only he ended up spending the night distracting her from her job.

You find your way back to Micah, who's just finished his cigarette, stomping it out on the ground with his polished black shoes. "I picked you up at a bar," Micah tells you as you hand him his drink.

"What? No," you scoff, scrunching your face up at the generic and boring backstory.

"What else you got then, sweetheart?" Micah asks before taking a sip from his drink.

"I just overheard a couple say that they met on one of those gambling ferries. She was a waitress and he spent the whole night chattin' her up."

"You wanna steal their backstory?" Micah tuts. "Dutch said we shouldn't be stealin," he says as he shakes his head jokingly.

"We'll just change it a little... I was a bartender and you spent the night chatting me up," you suggest.

"A woman bartender?" Micah questions your suggestion.

"Times are changing, Micah. It's believable," you reply, getting a little defensive.

"I didn't mean it like that," Micah says as he raises his hand. "I like it. And we met 4 years back, got married in April last year. How's that sound?" he asks.

"Good," you nod, realizing that you'd done each other's jobs rather than the ones you assigned. "You ready to mingle?" you ask him.

"Fine," Micah sighs.

Neither of you wants to do this, both forcing a fake smile and kind accents as you speak to the strangers. After an hour, you haven't found much, a few mentions of summer homes and private boats, but nothing within the area.

You're a few more glasses in, beginning to feel ever so slightly tipsy, but you needed that buzz to help you get through the smugness of these strangers.

"You want another?" you ask Micah who has barely sipped on his current one. He's only drunk a glass less than you have, but he doesn't seem affected, though his tolerance is probably higher than yours.

"I'm alright, my love. I'll wait here for you," Micah tells you as he moves his hand off your waist, letting you wander off into the crowd.

You're still not used to the pet names, but you hope they continue to roll out of Micahs mouth, seeing as you no longer had that sickly feeling in your stomach. It seems your nerves had finally calmed down, being replaced by a warm and gentle buzz instead, though that's probably the alcohol in your system.

You thank the waiter as you take another glass and turn to leave, but overhear the most hideous voice you've ever heard call out to the same man you just thanked. You attempt to walk away, but quickly stop and look over your shoulder, face scrunching up at the sight of quite possibly the rudest woman you've ever seen, if you can even call her a woman.

She drones on and on, insulting this poor stranger that was only trying to do his job. God. The way she spoke to him made you sick, and before that little voice in the back of your head can stop you, you've already approached her and cut her off, attempting to speak to her sweetly.

"Are you an entertainer?" you ask.

"What on earth are you yapping about?" She questions as she looks you up and down in disgust.

"Well, it's a very good act you've got going on here. Playing the stereotypical obnoxious upper-class woman, though I wouldn't recommend performing it when you're not on stage," you respond, acting as if you genuinely thought she was a man in drag.

"Well, I never!" She squeals. "You've got some lip on you, little girl. Do you now know who I am?"

"Oh, I do apologize, madam. What's your act called? Maybe I'll drop by to hear you squeal on stage next time I pass the theatre."

You can't hold back the grin creeping across your face as the stranger's face turns red, her huffing and puffing attracting a handful of eyes nearby. Thankfully, the poor served had managed to sneak off, so at least she wouldn't take it out on him any more than she already had.

She goes to open her mouth again but is quickly cut off when Micah appears by your side.

"Oh, I do apologize for my wife's behaviour," Micah says with a wave of his hand. "Sweetheart!" he says as he turns to you, putting his arm around your waist and beginning to walk you away. "What have I told you about feeding the animals?" he says in clear earshot of the woman.

The both of you don't get to see the woman explode as you rush off, but your grins are as wicked as each others as you lead Micah to the back of the party, giggling devilishly.

You can still hear the woman protesting as she's asked to leave, and is eventually dragged out, which was more than satisfying to watch. The party returns to how it formerly was, the strangers barely looking your way as it seems you'd done everybody a favour.

Your eyes meet Micahs, his arm still wrapped around your waist as your hand rests on his shoulder, your body pressed against his. Both of your grins remain there as the two of you look at each other, suddenly realizing just how pressed up you were against your 'husbands' body.

"I ain't seen that fire in you before, sweetheart," Micah tells you.

"There's a lot of me you ain't seen, Micah," you reply.

"Ooooh," Micah sighs as he chuckles. His head dips down slightly, speaking more directly into your ear but far enough that he can still see your reaction. "Well if you'd be so kind as to show me," he flirts.

Your knees feel like giving up on you, and you're thankful that Micah's grip is tight enough around your waist to hold you upright. You go to open your mouth and invite him to find out, but you're cut off before you can even make a sound.

"Mister and Mrs. Bell?" A familiar voice asks. Both of your smiles fade as you turn to see Dutch standing there, his brows slightly furrowed. "What the hell was that?" he whispers through gritted teeth.

"She deserved it," Micah shrugs, his voice returning to his usual tone as he softens his grip on you.

"What happened?" he whispers.

"Dutch, trust me, anybody would have done the same. It seems I did everyone here a favour," you reassure him.

"I don't care if she deserved it or not. Just stop drawing attention to yourselves, please!" Dutch hisses.

Micah raises his hand innocently, "sure, boss," he says.

"We'll keep quiet," you add on.

"Thank you, now go and mingle," Dutch attempts to force a smile, waving his hands about as he encourages you to head back into the crowd.

He doesn't walk away, so you're forced to drag Micah back into the handful of strangers and continue where you left off, doing whatever you can to find at least a little something to take back to the camp.

Thanks for ruining the moment, Dutch.

The whole time you're speaking to these strangers, all you can think about is the flirtatious glisten Micah had in his eyes when he said that line. His hand is around your waist once more, only you're well aware of the way his hand is slowly trailing down you, eventually resting on your tailbone, a little too close to your ass, though you wish he'd move his hand a little lower.

A stranger quickly thanks you for having that woman kicked out of the party, and your bitching session about her is cut short from the loud bang coming from the sky. You almost drop your drink, surprised to hear what sounds like gunshots, only to turn and see the sky glowing an array of colours.

They're fireworks. You've heard about them before but never seen them, and despite how pretty they are, you wish they were a little quieter. Sure, you're a gunslinger, but loud noises still make you jump, despite being somewhat used to them.

Micah stands almost directly behind you, moving his hand to your hip as he pressed his body against yours. You relax against him, your back pressed against his chest and shoulder. Micah places his empty glass on a tray that trails past him, using that same hand to brush a few strands of hair from your face, catching your attention as you move your gaze off the fireworks.

"You think we're doing a good job, sweetheart?" Micah asks.

"A good job of what, exactly?" you reply.

"You know exactly what I'm on about," he chuckles. His gaze was soft on you to begin with, but it softens out even more as you make him laugh.

"I think we're doing well, but we can always do better," you flirt.

"Oh?" Micah smirks, picking up on your hints. "And how are we gonna do that, my love?"

Micah boldly places a gentle kiss to your temple, your heart fluttering as his 'stache brushes against your skin, a lot softer than you thought it'd be.

"Well, for a start, you could kiss my lips rather than my temple," you reply, just as boldly as his move.

"That so?" he smiles.

"It is so, darling," you reply.

"Just you wait," Miah grins, kissing your temple again. "I ain't gonna let that happen in the middle of these folk," he explains.

"That's alright, Mister Bell. I can wait," you reply as you rest your head against the crook of his neck, angling upwards so you can continue to watch the fireworks.

Micah places another kiss to your temple before wrapping his arms around your waist, enjoying the way your hand rests on top of his, the other one still holding your glass. He continues to place gentle kisses against you every so often, holding your back firmly against his chest.

Little do you know that Micah's heart is also racing just as fast as yours, his stomach feeling just as sick and his knees feeling just as weak. All those times he'd accidentally met your gaze from across the camp were times when he'd been admiring you, watching you from afar as he tries to figure out a non-creepy and non-cheesy way to talk to you.

When it comes to one night stands and quick hook-ups, Micah will blurt a few stereotypical pickup lines out and hope for the best, but he's been lovesick the second he saw you, and his feelings continued to grow the more he saw your personality come out within the camp. He felt a little jealous at first, finding a woman who's just as good with a gun and knife as he is, but the thought of "but what if she was mine?" struck his mind, and he then decided that he just had to have you.

Micah struggles to talk to women, he's barely interacted with them, and it's even worse growing up without a female role model in his life. But the camp continued to move and hunt for money, and when Micah found out that Dutch was invited to the mayors' party, he finally saw his chance. Despite trying to recommend taking another set of hands along, without Micah making it obvious that he wanted an excuse to talk to you, Dutch quickly picked up on what was going on and decided to stir the pot even more.

Originally, Micah just thought Dutch could do with his help and maybe take one of the ladies, but Dutch is smart and picks up on little things like the two of you admiring each other from afar. Dutch grinned as he thanked Micah for his suggestion, and then said he could do with a fake couple there so they had all their options open. Micah was quick to dip his hat over his face and blurt out "sure boss, I'll leave it to you," scurrying off when he realized that he'd dug this hole a lot deeper than it was meant to go, but he swallowed his fear and went along with it.

And here the two of you are, Micah leading you over to the gazebo at the back of the mayors' house to have a "little talk about the leads we've found." There's another couple stood on one side, but the gazebo is big enough so if the two of you stand on the other side and speak under your breaths then they won't hear you.

"Well, what you think?" Micah asks as he gently removes your hand from around his arm, holding it lightly in both of his hands as he leans back against the railing, crossing one ankle over the other.

"We got a few bit here 'n' there. It ain't been easy," you shrug. It seems that despite every single person here being an obnoxious prick, they had their guards up around strangers, not letting things slip out too easily.

"But have you had fun?" Micah chuckles.

"I've had fun playing dress-up with you, Micah," you grin, noting the way Micah's fidgeting with the ring on your finger, probably slightly nervous.

"We can always do it again some time," he flirts. "Maybe go to one of them fancy poker games they host at the saloon here," Micah suggests.

"Oh, I bet you'd enjoy that," you giggle. "Gambling, liquor, and me sittin' on your lap."

"How could I not enjoy that?" Micah asks as he stands upright. "But is it a sin if I do enjoy it?" Micah asks, his tone turning slightly stern as he looks into your eyes.

"Do you want it to be?" you ask, watching as Micah moves your hand from his to rest on his shoulder, his hands finding your waist.

"I ain't really bothered, sweetheart," Micah tells you with a little shrug. "Sin or not, I'll have you on my lap, so I'll be happy," he adds.

"You know, we ain't gotta play dress up again just for you to have me sit on your lap," you flirt as your other hand comes to rest on his shoulder, slowly wrapping around his neck.

"Don't say that, darlin'. Cause we both know that you'll get tired of me constantly takin' up that offer," Micah jokes.

"You think I'm gonna get tired of you, Mister Bell?"

"You might," Micah says with a shrug. He moves one hand off your waist to gently cup your chin, making sure your eyes are on his. "Mrs. Bell," he says with a grin, noticing the way your heart flutters at the sound of it.

"I bet you I won't," you smile.

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

"We will, Mister Bell."

Micah gently moves his hand from your chin, gently brushing it along your jawline as he cups it, his thumb rubbing slowly over your cheek. You melt into his touch, and the sight of that is enough to pop Micah's patience.

He finally dips his head down, gently pressing his lips against yours, though he's not surprised when you begin to kiss back, deepening the kiss. Micah's hand moves from your cheek, joining the other one around your waist as he holds onto you, pulling your body against his.

Despite how firmly his lips are pressed against yours, his moustache is a lot softer than you imagined, running against your upper lip, lightly tickling you. There's the strong taste of champagne on his lips, and a faint taste of tobacco on his tongue as he slides it against yours. It's a good thing Micah has your body pressed up against his, holding you firmly, as you can feel your knees getting weaker by the second.

Micah lets out a soft sigh as he moves one hand to gently cup the back of your head. Your fingertips brush against his low ponytail, a style that you hoped to see him wear again. Maybe he'll keep it for this upper-class poker date that you'd both just planned, and even though neither of you said it was a date, the way you were gazing at each other says otherwise.

There's a sudden cough, and that's when you realize that someones been coughing to get your attention a few times now. You were far too engulfed in locking lips with your 'husband' that you didn't notice poor Arthur standing a few feet away, trying to get both of your attention.

Micah momentarily breaks the kiss to mumble "go away, Morgan," before bringing your lips back to his, continuing where you left off.

"We're leavin', Micah," Arthur tells him in a stern voice.

Micah ignores him, and although you feel bad for Arthur being there, you're not willing to break this kiss for anything. You've waited far too long for this.

"You two, come on," Arthur sighs, and Micah finally breaks away from you.

"Fine," Micah frowns as his gaze meets Arthurs. Arthur ignores his attitude and walks off, heading through the slowly-dispersing crowd to find the others.

Micah doesn't say anything but flashes you a cheeky smile as he offers his arm once more. You take it, and he leads you through the party, meeting the others who are already climbing into the stagecoach when you arrive.

Micah does most of the talking on the way back, telling the others about the few leads the two of you had found. His hand rests on your knee the whole journey back, and Dutch seems to notice it, smiling to himself.

When you arrive back at camp, Micah offers you his hand as he helps you down from the stagecoach, and despite being back, his hand still lingers in yours whilst you say goodnight to everyone.

"You want me to walk you home, Mrs. Bell?" Micah jokes.

"Oh, you're so kind, offering to walk me ten steps," you giggle.

Micah does it anyway, stopping outside your tent.

"I err..." Micah gulps, his eyes flicking around the camp, then back to you. "I had fun tonight. Now I know we didn't get many leads, but I still enjoyed myself."

"I did too. Maybe we'll make up for our losses when we go on that upper-class poker mission," you smile. Micah's eyes widen a little.

"You were serious about that?" he asks, a tint of doubt to his voice.

"I was. But I understand if you're tired of pretending to be my husband already," you jokingly sigh, bringing a smile back to Micah's face.

"I ain't ever gonna get tired of it. But if you're up for it, then well, I guess I better start lookin' for a way to make it happen," Micah replies.

"You let me know as soon as you find it."

"Anyway, I ain't gonna keep you up. You get to bed, sweetheart," Micah says as he takes hold of your hand, placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

"You still ain't learned where my lips are, have you?" you flirt, watching Micah's eyes light up at your comment.

"I guess you better show me then, Mrs. Bell," Micah grins, his face dipping down to meet yours as you lean up to kiss him, your arms wrapping around his neck once more.

Micah doesn't keep you up for too long, softly kissing you goodnight and finally letting you turn in. You hear him walk away as you close your tent flaps, taking your time to get undressed and get ready for bed. The whole time you're changing, your stomach is still turning with butterflies, in shock at tonight's turn of events, even though you adored all of them.

In some ways, the Gods finally did answer your prayers, giving you the sinner you fawned over rather than taking your feelings away. Either outcome would have been fine, but you definitely preferred this one, especially now you had a date lined up.

Maybe those romances that Mary-Beth reads aren't so silly after all.

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jayz4dayz · 4 years

Note

1 for Ririka and Itsuki.

Bet. I’ve been waiting to do a fic for them. And yES I’M AWARE THESE ARE DRABBLES, BUT 3 THOUSAND WORDS IS SHORT TO ME OKAY?!

(For real tho, the other “drabbles” won’t be nearly as long as this one. I just really loved writing this one.)

Anyway. Prompt: “Come over here and make me.”

Unmasked

There was a certain mysterious element to the Vice President’s porcelain mask, something Itsuki had always privately found herself to be drawn to. The eyes, jet black and ominous; oftentimes Itsuki feared she would drop dead if she stared into the mask’s eyes for too long. And then that smile, so menacing and eerie, never fated to one day frown. There was something so alluring yet sinister about the mask that made it difficult not to look away whenever the Vice President walked by or was in the same vicinity as the nail collector.

And for the longest time, Itsuki had been so curious as to why the Vice President wore this mask. Surely no one would willingly wear it if they had nothing to hide; the damned thing in itself was rather creepy. Not to mention Ririka never removed it no matter where she was, which raised suspicion.

What exactly was the Vice President hiding from everyone?

Rumors about why the Vice President wore her mask had been floating around the school since she first arrived. Some say she was hiding a hideous scar either from child abuse or from a wicked fight she might have gotten into. Others suspected she wore it because her face was malformed and ugly from a bad birth defect or otherwise and hid her true face so people wouldn’t be as afraid of her.

Itsuki didn’t believe any of those rumors; she knew not to believe most of the crap the students at Hyakkaou would eagerly spread like a wildfire. She herself was a gossiper, but she only gossiped things she knew to be true. None of these rumors about the Vice President gave her reason to think they were true.

If anything, she speculated that the Vice President likely hid her face because she did the President’s dirty work and couldn’t risk having her face be known among the school population. It certainly made sense at least; no one knew what the Vice President did behind closed doors or what her general role in the school was. Even if Itsuki was right, it wasn’t like she was going to ever find out the truth for herself anyway.

For a while at least, Itsuki tried to ignore her fascination with the mystery behind the infamous smiling mask. Yet when she saw the Vice President walking alone down a semi-empty corridor, she could not contain her curiosity and decided to follow her.

She had no probable cause to follow her; for all she knew the Vice President could have simply been going to the restroom or student council room. However, she showed no signs of doing so as she walked to a more empty and unused side of the campus. At this point, Itsuki just wanted to see what the Vice President was up to whether or not she would finally see her without her mask.

Itsuki tried her best to not raise any suspicion, following the masked girl distantly. She noticed the Vice President’s pace seemed to slow a bit, causing Itsuki to fidget with anxiety. Thankfully, the Vice President never turned her head to see the one pursuing her and Itsuki quietly continued to follow her.

The Vice President stopped, pulling out a key card to unlock a room Itsuki had never seen nor been in before. Itsuki noticed that the door was still ever so slightly open, an invitation perhaps. Or a one way ticket to her demise.

Swallowing back the fear and urge to turn and run away while she still had the chance to, Itsuki waited a minute before slowly approaching the door, creaking it open a little more so she could see what was going on within. She gasped slightly once she noticed the Vice President’s mask sitting on a small tea table near the door and searched to see the unmasked face of the platinum haired girl.

All she saw was the back side of the Vice President, who no longer wore her school uniform, but still had on her skirt and her bra, appearing to be brushing out her long, smooth hair. Itsuki knew she should have shut the door and walked away to give her privacy, but her eyes were glued onto the Vice President’s semi-bare form.

She was stunningly beautiful from behind; Itsuki could only imagine how she looked if she turned around. Itsuki felt like such a pervert for watching her like this, but she needed to know what she looked like from the front. Just a glimpse was all it would take to satisfy her.

Itsuki continued to watch in silence, noticing something rather odd. The Vice President began to braid her hair. To her shock, she saw the Vice President braid her hair the exact same way the President did. Even more peculiarly, the Vice President also had the same exact Presidential blazer Kirari wore every day. The only reason why she would have this and braid her hair just like Kirari did and coincidentally have the same hair color as the President was because...

No. It couldn’t be. The President and the Vice President… were the same person?

Itsuki rubbed her eyes and blinked rapidly, now taking a really good look at the girl inside the room who still had her back turned to the door. She was aware that the President was known for doing strange and out of the ordinary things, but to pose as the Vice President made no sense. Not to mention the Vice President and the President had been seen in the same location as each other, so obviously they had to have been two different people.

Frustrated for not gaining any answers, Itsuki barged into the room and snatched the mask on the table. Naturally, the only other girl in the room yelped in surprise and turned to face Itsuki. Itsuki was just about to yell and confront her on why she was doing this and expose her for it, but all her words died in her throat the moment she saw those cerulean eyes and flustered cheeks.

This girl was not Kirari Momobami. It was impossible. Yet she shared the exact same face as Kirari. However, her expression alone proved she wasn’t the President, so how could this be? The thought of it made Itsuki’s head spin.

“Y-you shouldn’t be here, Sumeragi!” the girl across the room squeaked, covering her top half with her dress shirt.

“Who are you?” Itsuki questioned in a loud voice. “I know you’re not the President, but you look just like her.”

“G-give me my mask,” the girl sputtered, shakily putting on her shirt and slowly buttoning it up.

Itsuki snorted. “Ha! Not a chance. I want answers and I’m gonna get them. If you don’t comply, I’m gonna smash this thing to smithereens!”

The younger girl was well aware she was playing with fire and her actions were honestly quite cruel, but she didn’t care. This was an opportunity unlike any other. The amount of blackmail she would now have on the student council may just be enough to get her re-hired in exchange for her to keep what she saw to herself.

“No! Don’t!” The older girl shrieked, reaching out with her hand even though she couldn’t reach Itsuki. “Just… give it to me and we won’t have any problems! Give it to me right now!”

Itsuki wanted to laugh at how pathetic the Vice President sounded while trying to threaten her. Without her mask, she was a completely different person. Itsuki wasn’t intimidated by her in the slightest.

“You’re in no position to demand things from me,” Itsuki snickered. “Now talk.”

“I… I will explain, but first give me my mask,” the other girl complied.

“Oh yeah? Come over here and make me,” Itsuki challenged.

Itsuki wouldn’t give up so willingly and she knew the Vice President wouldn’t either. Skittishly, the Vice President slowly approached the ginger. Itsuki began to study the features on the Vice President’s face as she came closer. She was convinced if the President were in the room that very moment and stood next to the Vice President, they would look like clone copies of each other. At this point, Itsuki wouldn’t have been shocked to discover the President did have a clone.

Perhaps the only difference about the Vice President was her eyes. They were a bit brighter, more innocent and warm than Kirari’s cold and blank ones.

“Please,” the Vice President bowed respectfully in front of Itsuki. “I’m not myself without it.”

Itsuki sucked in a breath and blushed, not expecting her to do this. “F-fine, but you really better explain who you are and what’s going on!”

Itsuki handed the mask to the Vice President, but to her surprise, the platinum haired girl did not place the mask back on. She instead clutched it to her chest protectively.

“My name is Ririka Momobami. I am the older twin sister of the President,” Ririka explained, her voice calming down.

Itsuki blinked at her. Finally, something made sense. The only thing that didn’t make any sense was that Ririka was the older sibling. As far as she knew, Kirari was the heir to the Momobami wealth and the Bami clan. It was strange considering the eldest child was traditionally and typically the one to inherit their family’s wealth and top positions.

Regardless, Itsuki knew this bit of information was detrimental to obtain and now gave her a future advantage against the student council.

“The President has a twin. Of course she does,” Itsuki snickered. “Who else knows?”

Ririka hesitated. “Only four people know. Sayaka Igarashi, Runa Yomozuki, my sister, and Mary Saotome.”

Itsuki bristled at the mention of the blonde’s name. She had recently become friends with her and trusted her, so why would Mary keep something this important from her and the rest of their friend group?

“How did she find out?” Itsuki questioned.

“On accident much like you did. We sort of knocked into each other while walking down the halls a week ago,” Ririka explained.

Well, Itsuki wouldn’t say this was an accident per say. Ririka didn’t need to know she was followed here, so Itsuki kept her mouth shut about that.

“Ugh, now she has some explaining to do too,” Itsuki grumbled. “So, what’s up with the mask? I get why Kirari wouldn’t want people knowing she has a twin, but why bother with that creepy thing?”

“That’s… something I’m forbidden to reveal,” Ririka whispered darkly, her tone turning much like Kirari’s.

“Okay then, why were you starting to braid your hair like the President?” Itsuki retorted.

Ririka suddenly chuckled, the surprisingly comforting sound making Itsuki’s heart skip a beat. “Kirari likes to switch places with me sometimes. Usually it’s to gain information on other students quietly, but this time it was because she wanted to avoid English Literature and have me take the class in her place.”

“So, you’ve been trading places with her for a while now and no one has ever found out?” Itsuki asked with wide eyes, now wondering how often she was talking to Ririka when she thought she was speaking to the President.

“Well, someone very dear to Kirari’s heart figured out the two of us were switching places a while ago,” Ririka said softly.

“Igarashi,” Itsuki mumbled under her breath.

“You know about that?” Ririka asked in shock.

Itsuki scoffed. “Oh please, the whole school has suspected those two have been together since Sayaka was hired as Kirari’s little Secretary.”

“I suppose you’re correct about that,” Ririka nodded in agreement. “Now, I hope you have no more questions, Sumeragi. I know you likely won’t grant this, but can you keep this interaction of ours private?”

Itsuki debated on that. On the one hand, she knew she could use this secret against Kirari to gain her position in the student council back, but was it fair to do such a thing to Ririka? The ginger hardly knew Ririka, but perhaps it would be better to have Ririka as an ally rather than an enemy. Revealing her secret would only burn bridges between them, something Itsuki didn’t want. At least right now.

Still, Itsuki wanted to know if there was anything she could gain out of this.

“I don’t know, what’s in it for me?” Itsuki asked flatly, her intense ocean blue eyes searching for an answer from the taller girl.

“I…I have nothing to offer,” Ririka sighed in defeat. “Nothing you would want, at least.”

Itsuki raised an intrigued brow at her. “Oh? What exactly do you have in mind?”

“The only thing I can offer is monetary compensation, but why would you accept that seeing as how you’re the daughter of Japan’s wealthiest toy company?” Ririka murmured sadly.

That was hardly something Itsuki would consider to be worth keeping her mouth shut over, but she knew Ririka was at the end of her rope and truly had nothing else to offer. And the more Itsuki found herself to be drowning in cerulean, the harder it became for her to want to continue her blackmailing.

Deep in her heart, she questioned whether or not Ririka deserved this treatment from her. Perhaps she was just as much a slave to Kirari’s bidding just like the rest of the academy was. There was still too little she knew about Ririka to say what she was doing was justified or morally right.

“Yeah, I don’t want your money,” Itsuki deadpanned. “Maybe you can offer a partnership instead?”

Ririka looked up at her with hope. “What are you saying? Do you wish to be my gambling partner like Saotome is?”

“No, nothing like that,” Itsuki shook her head, laughing at the idea of having Ririka following her around like some lost puppy like she did with Mary. Though the idea itself was still intriguing.

“Then what are you suggesting?” Ririka asked in confusion.

“You know… a partnership,” Itsuki responded stupidly.

Ririka’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Y-you mean like a romantic relationship?”

Itsuki almost choked on the air as soon as those words left Ririka’s lips. She supposed the word ‘partnership’ was a rather broad term, but she still wasn’t expecting Ririka to suggest something like that.

“No! God no! I-I mean not that you’re undesirable, you’re… you’re actually really pretty! I just…” Itsuki fumbled her words, turning redder by the second.

“You think so?” Ririka asked shyly.

Itsuki’s throat went dry. “W-well, yeah? It’s kinda hard to believe you’d hide such a beautiful face behind something so scary.”

“No one’s ever called me that before,” Ririka chuckled.

“Yeah, I can see why,” Itsuki smirked, gesturing toward the mask Ririka still clutched to her chest.

“You must think Kirari is beautiful if you think I am. Usually those sort of compliments are reserved for her anyway,” Ririka deflated at the realization.

“I mean I guess, but she’s terrifying. You’re… different. A good kind of different,” Itsuki blushed.

Ririka’s eyes searched Itsuki’s for any trace of deception, but found nothing. “Thank you, Sumeragi. As for this… partnership, I’m not opposed to it whatever it may be.”

“Seriously?” Itsuki asked in disbelief. “What if it was something romantic out of curiosity?”

Ririka sighed. “I’m not sure, I’d have to thoroughly know you better before deciding on something like that. Still, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“And why is that? I was kinda pushy and mean to you a few minutes ago,” Itsuki reminded her.

“You could have easily snatched my mask and ran off to tell the world about my true identity, yet you didn’t. Why is that?” Ririka shot back with a cute slight smile that melted Itsuki’s heart.

“I don’t know, sheesh! I wanted answers I guess?” Itsuki said in defense.

“I hope you got your answers,” Ririka smiled fully.

“Not all of them,” Itsuki replied quickly. “I still have a lot of questions. Even more now if I’m being honest.”

Ririka nodded calmly. “Alright then. If you join me for tea tomorrow afternoon, I will try my best to answer them all.”

“W-wait, this… this won’t be a date, will it?” Itsuki stuttered.

“It’s whatever you wish it to be,” Ririka shrugged. “You want a partnership? Very well. As partners, however you may see it, we will have to get to know each other regardless. Am I wrong?”

Itsuki’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. How did it ever come to this? She was only trying to satisfy her curiosity. She never expected things to turn out the way they did.

“You’re not wrong,” Itsuki mumbled shyly.

“Good. I will see you tomorrow then. You still have my contact on your phone from your time on the student council, yes?” Ririka asked.

“Yeah,” Itsuki breathed out. “But remember, this is my compensation for keeping my mouth shut! Got it?”

“I understand,” Ririka nodded.

“Great,” Itsuki sighed.

“Now, um. Can you let me finish changing into my clothes?” Ririka requested with a sheepish grin.

“Oh! Right! O-of course!” Itsuki exclaimed in embarrassment.

“Thank you,” Ririka chuckled. “I will text you sometime later on where I’d like to meet for tea tomorrow. Have a good afternoon, Sumeragi-san.”

“You… you too, Momobami-san,” Itsuki said breathlessly.

With that, Itsuki left the room and shut the door behind her. She stood in the empty hallway for several seconds, still processing what just happened. All this information was too much for her brain to process all at once.

The smiling porcelain mask hid the President’s identical twin sister. Itsuki now apparently had a date with the President’s twin sister. And she was actually kind of looking forward to it.

Though some of her questions were answered, they were replaced by dozens of new questions. What was the history behind Ririka’s mask? Why was Kirari the heir to the Momobami clan and not her? Why was she forced to wear the mask all the time? Why in god’s name was she okay with going on a ‘date’ with Itsuki?

Itsuki sighed and ran a hand through her ginger hair. All the questions her mind was producing was overwhelming and to be blunt, she didn’t want to think about it. The only thing she wanted to think about was what she was going to wear and what color nail polish she was going to apply tonight for her ‘date’ with Ririka Momobami tomorrow.

#kakegurui #ririka momobami #itsuki #ririka x itsuki

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

Text

Do you put effort into getting tan during the summer? No. It happens if I go to the beach because I spend hours out there, but I don’t go for that reason. That’s the only time I spend long enough outside for that happen. It’s a nice bonus.

Have any summer homework? No, I’m not in school.

Are you a fairly self-motivated person? Motivation who?

What’s your favorite book series? My current faves are by the authors Willow Rose, AJ Rivers, and Mary Stone.

What’s your favorite thing to do if you’re out on a lake? I don’t ever do that, but it does sound nice.

What type of food do you know how to cook? The only thing I cook is ramen and things I can easily make in the microwave or oven. Do you make your passwords so tricky to remember that you forget them? No.

Cautious or reckless driver? I don’t drive.

What’s a subject you’re sick of people debating about? Hmm.

Are you one to take naps? Yes.

What’s something you wish they’d build in your neighborhood? *shrug*

What’s your favorite website, excluding social networking sites? Google? ha. All I use are social media sites.

What hair product do you use the most? Shampoo and detangling spray is all I use.

Do you usually keep ponytail holders around your wrist? No.

Sunny D or orange juice? I hate OJ, but I actually loved Sunny D as a kid. Sunny D isn’t actual orange juice, though. Kinda like how I like chocolate Yoo-Hoo, but not chocolate milk. I like the fake stuff apparently, ha.

What’s your favorite food to get at a carnival? I just love the fried delicious foods.

Do you actually use e-mail? Yeah. I don’t send any, though.

Can you snap out of a bad mood fast? Nooo, definitely not. I feel the wave of emotions coming on and once it starts there’s nothing I can do to stop it and I drown in it. It completely takes over and ends when it decides to and it likes to stay around for awhile. It also happens daily and more than once. Although, nowadays I feel like I’m just always in a bad mood.

Holding any grudges? No.

What do you order to drink when you go out to eat? Soda or coffee.

How can a person tell if you’re mad or annoyed? I think you can see it in my face. <<< That’s one of my giveaways, too. And if I’m quiet (though that can mean nothing or it can mean other things as well), and my tone and body language for sure.

What’s your favorite energy drink? Starbucks Doubleshots.

Have you ever ingested caffeine in the name of getting homework done? In high scholol and the early days of college when caffeine really did something for me.

Are you good at coming up with gift ideas for others? Depends on the person.

Do you have a pair of jeans with holes in them? No.

Where’s your favorite purse from? Boxlunch. The brand is Loungefly.

What about your sunglasses? I don’t wear sunglasses.

Do you keep lint rollers around the house? Yeah.

What’s something you enjoy that’s outside your age level? Watching some shows from my childhood and younger days.

Is your curfew flexible, if you have one? At 31 I don’t have a curfew, but actually never had one. I didn’t go anywhere so there was no need to even set one. I’ve always been such a homebody.

Regardless, when is the latest you have come home from a night out? When I was a college I had some late nights with friends that went on until like maybe 2 or 3 at the latest, but it wasn’t often. I did like the late night Taco Bell runs, though. Ha.

Do you have a weak stomach? Yes. Are you usually the person comforting, or the person being comforted? The comforter.

Do you actually use the camera on your phone? Yeah.

Tennis shoes or flats? Tennis shoes/sneakers.

Are you a good planner or do you settle for spontaneity? I’m a planner.

What do you do to pass the time when you’re a passenger on a long car journey? Listen to music, talk, sleep. I wish I could read, but I get motion sickness.

When your friends come and hang out at your house, what do you get up to? --

Does it annoy you when surveys ask questions about controversial topics, or do you like arguing your point? I avoid those questions.

How often would you say you updated your Facebook status? Not often at all.

Do you think there’s a specific age when it’s no longer acceptable to be living with your parents? Who am I to say, I’m almost 32 and still do.

Girls - if you got pregnant now, would you keep it? Guys - what would your reaction be if your girlfriend fell pregnant? I can’t get pregnant and I don’t want kids.

Do you think it’s ignorant for people to have unprotected sex when they’re not ready for a child? Yes.

Are there any specific piercings you would never, ever get done? Most piercings. <<< I don’t have plans to get any, honestly, but yeah there’s definitely some I never would.

What’s your favourite non-animated Disney film? I couldn’t possibly choose.

It’s pouring with rain and you don’t have anywhere you need to be - how do you spend your day? Just like every day. <<< Yeah, I don’t do anything different but I do love rainy days. We don’t get many of them, sadly.

How often do your family go out for meals? We get takeout a lot. I do at least once a day to be honest. My DoorDash past orders list is quite long, ha. We haven’t all been out to eat together in over a year. I did go out to eat at a restaurant for the first time last month with my mom and aunt, though, and have gone a couple times since then with my mom.

Assuming you had sufficient funds, would you be capable of living alone, paying bills and looking after yourself properly? No. It is best for me that I still live at home given my situation. It’s what I want and feel comfortable with, I have no desire to live on my own.

What were your favourite things to do as a child? I was obSESSED with Barbies.

Are you happy to spend time being single, or are you one of those people who jumps from relationship to relationship? I’m honestly fine with being single.

If you were shopping with your best friend, and they picked an outfit that was completely unflattering, would you tell them? Ahh. I wouldn’t know how to go about that. I had a friend who had to try everything on and ask my opinion and I really didn’t like it. I tried to shift it back to them and be like, “what do you think? Is it comfortable?” lol or something like that. If I wasn’t asked then I very likely wouldn’t say anything. If they like it, then I’m like hey do what you want.

Do you find it easy to open up to people about your past? I don’t find it easy to open up in general.

If you’re out in the middle of nowhere and need the toilet, do you try and hold it in or just go behind a bush somewhere? Thankfully I don’t ever find myself out in the middle of nowhere.

Do you prefer using air-con or having the windows down when you’re driving on a hot day? AC for sure. Having the windows down is just having hot air blowing on me.

Can you ever manage to finish three courses when you go out to eat at restaurants? Noo, definitely not. I rarely am able to finish my meal as it is.

What would you say your favourite farm animal is? Horses are pretty awesome. They’re so beautiful and majestic.

How do you react when someone you’re friends with has a bad attitude? I’ll have some thoughts in my head, ha, but I didn’t really do anything.

Is it easy to embarrass you, or are you one of those people who just plays things off? I'm very easily embarrassed, but I try to play it off.

Are you comfortable going shopping or to the movies with your parents? Yeah, I do that all the time with my mom.

Do you have a favourite movie soundtrack? Not particularly.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

You’re not him; Jack Kline x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so SPOILER ALERT!!!! IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED THE PREMIERE EPISODE OF SPN THEN STOP RIGHT HERE AND GO WATCH IT BEFORE READING THIS FIC!!! If you have seen the episode then you can stay, so if you don’t want to be spoiled PLEASE. LEAVE. NOW!!

So warning wise it’s the typical SPN warning; swearing, violence, zombies, ghosts, and there is a scene with kissing w/o consent (ALWAYS ASK BEFORE KISSING OR TOUCHING SOMEONE. CONSENT IS POWER!!) other than that, not really anything else. Hope you all enjoy this fic :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

________________________________________________________

Well we were screwed….no I don’t even think screwed is even the right word I would use right now. Here we are trapped like rats in a crypt with a bunch of possessed zombies trying to break down the door. As my brothers and Cas were trying to figure a way out of this place or how to stop those—things outside, I was on the ground touching Jack’s cheek.

Thanks to the bastard Chuck, Jack’s forever gone. His eyes burned out and I knew that there was no coming back from that. This was all too much for me. Jack didn’t deserve something like this, no one did. Not Pamela, not Kevin, and certainly not Jack.

“Jack—” I muttered as I leaned my forehead against his chest. Why must everything bad happen to those we care about? Just shortly before Lucifer stole Jack’s grace, the two of us admitted to each other while we were stuck in Apocalypse world with Mary that we started developing feelings for each other.

While he was fully human, I taught him the basic necessities on how to stay alive. And from there we just—kinda grew closer to each other. Even when he burned out his soul, he somehow made me still believe that he was in love with me.

Now he’s gone.

Suddenly I began to hear something. Something from within the walls. As my brothers kept arguing with each other, I pressed my ear to the wall.

“(Y/n)? (N/n).” Dean said.

“Guys I—I think there’s a pipeline in here.”

“Probably a sewage line.” Both Sam and Dean came up and Sam helped me stand back up while both he and Dean removed the concrete slab to reveal the brick structure underneath. Using the iron pick they chipped away at the brick wall but suddenly coming out was a possessed corpse.

I jumped back screaming. God I hate it when those things do that. Cas then picked up the concrete slab and slammed it right on top of the corpse which killed it but the ghost that had it possessed took off flying.

“God I hate it when that happens!”

“You’ve been doing this since you were ten, how does that still scare you?” asked Dean.

“Hey give me a wendigo, vamp, werewolf, leviathan, whatever any day. But having something that just pops out, especially when they look like they’re from the Thriller music video, forget it!”

“Well so much for your pipe theory, now what do we do?”

“Hello.” No. It—it can’t be. We all turned around and there stood Jack alive!

My heart stopped and I froze like a deer in headlight.

“Jack? You’re alive?” Sam asked in disbelief. It can’t be, it just can’t be. Please anyone but god tell me this is a joke.

“That’s not Jack. It’s a demon.” Cas said. At that point, I was enraged. Okay making my older brother into one, and forcing my big brother into being the vessel of the devil himself is one thing, but no I repeat no demon should ever, ever possess Jack’s body.

“What?”

“Yeah.” The demon said using Jack’s voice. “Sorry about that.” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“How in the hell—”

“Look I just got here and I needed a body so—”

“So you are a demon.” Sam asked to confirm this was a demon and not one of those spirits that came out of hell.

“Yeah. I would do the whole eyes thing but—no eyes.” He then walked over towards my bag and pulled out the sunglasses he and I once bought for him when he and I had some downtime together a few months back before we hung out with those teens we saved from the psycho serial killer clown.

“Put those down!” I snapped. Of course he ignored me and put the shades over his eyes and he said.

“Sorry but I gotta blend in.”

“Get out of him!” Cas sneered.

“Look I know it’s weird. Okay where do I start? Like the first day of school. Hi, uhh my name’s Belphegor I—” I snapped as I trudged up towards him, gripped him by the throat and pinned him against the wall holding my demon blade.

“Get. Out of him!”

“Ooo wow kitty’s got claws. I like that in a woman. I would wink but like I said—no eyes.”

“I’m not gonna ask you again you son of a bitch!”

“Look, hey I can get you out of here. I can help.”

“(Y/n).” Dean said to me trying to get me to get off this demon possessing my boyfriend’s corpse.

“No, I’m with (y/n) on this. He’s an abomination!” Cas said as he came up over my shoulder.

“You’re an abomination with that stupid, dumb trench coat.” I pressed the blade closer to the demon’s neck and I snarled at him.

“You don’t get to talk to him!”

“(Y/n) hey, hey okay back off! Back up!” Dean said as he came up and forced me off the demon.

“He’s defiling his corpse Dean! And you’re acting like you don’t even give a shit! What if this were Mary, huh?!”

“Hey listen to me She-wolf. Jack’s gone! Okay I know you don’t want to admit it yet but your boyfriend’s gone! Now I say we just listen to what he has to say, and if we don’t like it. Then you and Cas can stab him.”

“(Y/n),” Sam’s voice spoke up softly. I turned towards him and he agreed with Dean. “He’s right. We need to get out of here.” I forced myself out of Dean’s grip and walked away and faced the wall.

“Whew, feisty. She available?”

“Hey focus back to right here!” Dean snapped.

“Right. Look I’m not a crossroads demon or one of those black eyed ones that ooze slime to take out virgins or puppies or—virgin puppies. I like my job, I check in a soul, torment it. Repeat. Simple basic eternity to eternity job. You want all those bad guys back where they came from right? Me too. I mean—we’re like twinses guys.”

“We are not twinses!” Cas snarled.

“Can you fix this?” asked Sam gesturing towards outside.

“Umm no. but I can get you out of here.”

“How?” asked Dean.

“A little spell. You know nothing major.” God he was such a pain in the ass with his cycling of nonchalant teasing. “See a little graveyard dirt, and some uhh angel blood.”

“Cas.” I turned and watched as Cas reluctantly cut his palm with his angel blade and allowed some blood to flow into the demon’s hand.

“Oh wait, one more thing; I also need a lock of hair from a beautiful girl.” Oh hell no!

“You’re making that part up.” Cas stated.

“Actually I’m not. I need the hair otherwise it won’t work.” I walked up to him and Cas said.

“(Y/n) wait, you don’t have to do it. You know he’s lying.”

“Cas I don’t like it as much as you do but—what if he is telling the truth?” he and I looked at each other before I walked right up to the demon possessing my boyfriend’s body. He gave me Jack’s famed grin that once made me flutter and go weak at the knees.

“Well beautiful?” I took out my pocketknife and picked up a strand of my long hair. Then I cut a strand from underneath so that way no one would notice an uneven strand of hair.

I held the hair in my hands and hesitantly held it over Jack’s hand before finally placing it on top of the dirt and Cas’ blood. Just before I could remove my hand from his palm, his hand closed over mine and he hummed.

“Mm, so soft. Fierce and calloused but very soft at the same time. Been awhile since I held a girl’s hand.” I quickly took back my hand and held it over my chest and turned away getting creeped out. Cas protectively wrapped his arm around me as the demon then just held his arms out like he was about to do a chant.

But all he did next was clap his hands, the soil, blood and my hair fell to the ground. At first I thought it did nothing, that was until I heard nothing but silence outside.

“Huh.” He bragged. I was the first to race outside and all there were around were dead corpses no longer possessed.

“Holy shit.” I muttered.

“Didn’t I tell you? It worked. High five.” Belphegor said.

“The spirits have been destroyed.” Cas said as he walked ahead.

“No, I just blasted them out of those bodies. Yeah.”

“So where the hell are they now?” asked Dean.

We were now in the car driving on home hoping to figure out a plan. Thankfully Cas sat between me and the demon possessing Jack because all the while through the drive, I could feel his—well metaphorically speaking his eyes were on me.

“You know—you’ve got some good style taste there doll. I like ‘em.”

“Don’t call me doll.” I lowly muttered.

“Alright Romeo enough with the flirting back there. That’s our sister and I wouldn’t press her if I were you. You think we’re bad, she’s worse than us.” Dean spoke.

“Empty threats. Not to say that you’re not strong there doll. I mean—every female demons has envied you for the way you’ve been known to torture us. In fact some learn from you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me.”

“On that note explain to me this, how many souls are we talking about specifically?” asked Sam trying to drive the conversation away.

“What you mean in hell?” asked Belphegor as Sam nodded.

“Oh I don’t know 2-3 billion.” Great.

“Okay for now we just stick to the plan. We head back to the bunker. Figure a way to close the riff.” Dean said as he kept driving.

“If you can.” Said Belphegor.

“You got any better ideas?”

“I do not. But if you wanna buy some time, you could just—contain the ghosts.”

“How?” I asked.

“Magic.” He stated with a shrug.

“And you just happen to know the right spell?” asked Cas skeptically.

“Lucky you.”

“What do you mean by contain them?” questioned Dean.

“Magical circle about a mile wide. No ghosts get in, no ghost get out.”

“Yeah, great, great.”

“But Sam we can’t. Harland, Kansas is less than a mile from the cemetery. What are we gonna do about the people there?”

“We get them out.” Dean stated.

“How?” asked Cas.

“We lie.”

As we drove on we soon found an abandoned car still running up ahead with its lights on.

“Whoa, whoa pull over for a second Dean.” Dean did as Sam suggested and we parked right behind the abandoned car. My brothers and I got out of Baby and we shined out flashlights on the car.

The first thing I noticed was the blood along the window, the radio was still playing but there was no body so this wasn’t your typical murder. Yet for some reason this scene was very familiar to me.

“This look so familiar to you guys?” asked Dean.

“Looks like a—woman in white.” Said Sam.

“Exactly.” I remembered back on the first case after we got Sam out of Stanford of the woman in white.

“Guys….I think this is our woman in white.”

“No way we sent her to hell years ago.” Dean said.

“No think about it. God opens up the doorway to hell, every soul to ever go down there escapes. Including our woman in white.” I explained.

“But then that means if she’s back—” Sam stated off before Dean finished his brother’s thought.

“Then every last one we ever killed and sent down there is back.” Well that’s just great.

By morning, donning on our fake FBI uniforms, we headed for Harland and began to evacuate the city.

“Alright look (y/n). Sam and I got the evacuation part down, so why don’t you and Cas take Crowley Jr. and get him the things he needs.”

“Are you serious Dean?” I snapped. “Dean you—you really don’t care how this is making me feel do you? I—I can’t even look at him. I just—I just can’t…..” I took off down the street and he called out to me.

I sat down on a nearby bench and pressed my face into hands trying to contain my sobs but I could feel tears in my eyes.

“(Y/n).” I looked up to see Cas standing over me. He sat down beside me and I said to him.

“If you’re—trying to make me go back there and make amends with Dean then uhh—” I looked around and found an abandoned half eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “I’m about to hit you in the head with a PB&J sandwich.”

“No, no I—I get why you walked away from him. I—can’t even look at….you know. So I can’t imagine how it must be for you. After all you and Jack….”

“It may have seemed difficult to decipher our relationship especially when his soul completely burned out. But—somehow even in that soulless way, he still made me believe he was in love with me. I have no idea how but—he did. I just….feel like this is all my fault.”

“It wasn’t. The only person to blame for Jack’s death is God. All this time following his orders and commands, and this is how I’m repaid.”

“To be fair we did kinda make you turn against your traditionalist ways. I mean remember how you were back then.”

“Yeah I guess I did have a stick up my butt.”

“Not even a stick is big enough Cas to describe how stuck-up you were.” I teased which caused the two of us for the first time to actually laugh. It was small but still a laugh. “I just wish he was still here. Like here here, not some demon possessing him using his voice and doing those little quirks he did.”

“I know. So do I.” he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and hugged me close to him. “So do I. I promised his mom I would take care of him, now I feel like I let her down. Again.”

Eventually I went with Cas and Sam to do some evacuations. I went to one house just three blocks from where Cas went. Holding my shotgun close and ready to fire in case any ghosts came up, I called out.

“Hello? Anybody here?” I cautiously walked along the hallways leading towards the upstairs bedrooms. But when I opened the door, I held in my puke for right there before me were two teenage girls around my age covered in blood, however most of the blood came from their eyes and I knew only one legend that ever made that happen.

Bloody Mary.

I quickly raced to find a nearby mirror. It worked on her once before and it should work on her again. But just as I went to grab the mirror that hung in the hallway, she suddenly appeared before me in my reflection then turned into me.

Blood started tearing down my face as I couldn’t look away now. She had me.

“Been a long time Winchester sister. And in all that time you’ve become a killer, just like your brothers. All those people you’ve helped kill, Kevin, Charlie, Bobby, but worst of all precious Jack. It’s your fault all this happened to him. If he hadn’t liked you, he’d still have his grace.”

“Shut up……shut up!” I soon felt this agonizing pain as I collapsed into the table and she soon came out of the mirror repeating over and over that it was my fault, my fault, my fault.

“Hey.” Oh shit it—it couldn’t be him. I looked up and through the blood that had dripped down from my eyes, I could see Jack’s body standing before us. Bloody Mary turned into Jack and said.

“You’re a true monster. Killing Sam and Dean Winchester’s mother. Releasing the archangel Michael, it’s all your fault.”

“Yeah sorry there Mary but,” he lifted his shades revealing the burnt out holes in them. “Plus I’m not this guy uhh—Jack. So you might as well hit the road bitch cause honestly out of all the legends you were the worst, and as a demon I don’t mean in the good way.” Mary phased back into herself and launched at the demon but he held up a mirror before her.

And just like last time, her reflection spoke back to her which killed her right then and there. The mirror shattered and the demon shook the glass off of him.

“That bitch is gonna have it in for me when I get back. Lucky for her, I’ve got something up my sleeve for her for leaving hell in the first place.” Slowly I got up and wiped the blood out of my eyes. “Red looks good on you.” I growled and steadied myself up along the wall. “What? No thank you for saving your ass?”

“Not from you. Had it been Cas or Sam I would thank them. But not to creeps like you.”

“Aww c’mon babe after all the fun we had last night?”

“That was for the spell only and you know it! Now did you find your ingredients for the spell? Does Dean even know you left him?”

“Technically no. See for whatever reason I found myself here and I could hear you screaming….well bloody Mary up here so I figured might as well save one Winchester, maybe their cute sister and maybe get on a better side with you and the others.”

“Saving my life doesn’t atone for what you are.” I said as I cleaned my face up in the bathroom.

“Why so stuck on me? It’s not like I had a choice. This body was the nearest one I could find. I would’ve found another back at the cemetery but those meat suits were well you know. Wormy. Difficult to blend. I sorta got an answer from your brother but I wanna hear your side now. Who was he to you?”

I turned the tap off and stared at him through the mirror. I dabbed my eyes with a towel and muttered.

“He was a friend.”

“Ahh there it is.”

“What’s there?” I demanded.

“See down there,” he pointed downward gesturing to hell. “You may be praised for your fighting skills and some torture methods. But you are laughed at for your lying skills. I mean I know there’s some truth to it, but I know there’s gotta be more.”

He then slowly walked closer towards me as he continued.

“So c’mon just between us. Was he—Your confidant? Your secret keeper?” he now stood almost chest to chest with me as he now had me up against the vanity counter. “Your boyfriend?” at that my breath hitched sharply. “Ahhh, ding-ding. Seems I’ve found a winner?”

“So what if he was? Just because you have his body and use his voice to talk, doesn’t mean that you’re him. So stop with the flirtation and just—” suddenly I felt his lips on mine.

I almost lashed out but I was suddenly hit back to the time Jack and I shared our first kiss in Apocalypse world. Jack had just performed another puppet show for the kids, we told them an epic tale of a young warrior searching across the galaxy to eventually become a great warrior (Star Wars).

After getting all the little ones to bed, Jack and I just stayed up and talked and that’s when I leaned in and kissed him. At first I regretted it because he just sat there in shock, but when he kissed me back I threw my regret out the window and just accepted the kiss. And ever since then, we’ve been a couple.

I felt Jack’s hands cup underneath my chin just as he always placed them whenever we kissed. I tried to resist but I guess this is what I needed for long. Ever since his soul got burned out, his kisses didn’t hold the same feeling of love as they had compared to our first kiss.

Wait—what the fuck are you doing (y/n)?! You’re kissing a demon! A bloody demon! I whined and pushed him away from me and I slapped him in the face.

“Never. Kiss me. Again!” I snarled.

“Oh yeah like I haven’t heard that before.” He teased.

“I’m serious. Whatever you think is happening between us, forget it! Now get your stuff for the spell and get out of my sight!”

“As you wish. My sapphire star.” My heart stopped as he actually used the nickname Jack gave me. I turned back around and saw that he was gone.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!” soon running up the stairs was Cas. “I heard you screaming as I got closer to the house, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I’m fine.” He cupped my face before saying.

“Your eyes are bleeding.”

“Oh right I—I had a little reunion with bloody Mary. But I handled it.” It was best not to tell Cas about the demon coming to save me, since I really had no real father figure in my life Cas has kinda filled in that role after getting him to loosen up a bit and hanging around us humans for a while.

“Does anything else hurt?”

“Well I’ve got a splitting headache.”

“Here.” He placed his two fingers to the center of my forehead and I felt this warmth come over me.

“Thanks Cas.”

“No problem. Come on Sam might need us.” I nodded and the two of us headed outside.

After reuniting with my brother and saving a mother and daughter from the killer clown as well as some other ghosts that popped out. We saw this bright light suddenly rushing across the ground like the tide coming out.

“The spell.” I said. The ghosts all glared at us and took chase.

“Run! Run get them out of here!” Sam urged us. I picked up the kid and took off running down the street. Once we got to across a certain path of the road, the ghosts stopped and psycho clown couldn’t reach us with his knife. He growled before yelling at us before my brother finally told him to shut up.

“It’s done. They can’t get out now.” I said.

“C’mon we gotta get to the high school.” Sam said as we now walked calmly out of the neighborhood to meet up with Dean and Balthagar.

After getting the mom and daughter to the high school five miles away, I was leaning against the wall of the high school when I felt two familiar hands cover my eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Enough.” I elbowed him in the chest.

“Ow! Hey I thought we had something back in the bathroom?”

“I already told you, you may wear Jack’s body but you aren’t him. You even touch me again, and I’ll let you see firsthand why demons down there probably talk about me.”

“Ohhh, kinky. I look forward to it.” He flirted. I glared at him and walked away from him. I came up to my brothers who were looking inside Baby’s trunk.

“Did he just cover your eyes playing the guess who game you and Jack used to do?” asked Dean.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I told him bluntly. He looked towards Belphegor and he said.

“Listen, if he tries to flirt with you in anyway talk to us, okay. I—I had a talking to with Cas and he set me right. I should’ve been more understanding of what all this has meant to you (n/n) I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. All of this really has gone to shit. I mean not just the souls of hell being free but God literally screwing us over. I mean—guys pardon my French but…..we are in some serious horse shit.”

“She’s right. I mean yeah we can keep up the lie for what 1 maybe 2 days before the real FBI shows.” Sam agreed with me. We already had two encounters with law enforcement we don’t need a third strike.

“Yeah I figured. But right now we need to get you fixed up.” Dean said gesturing to Sam’s shoulder. Of course stubborn as an ox Sam Winchester refused but with Dean’s persuasion he managed to talk Sam into showing him the bullet wound he telepathically got after shooting God.

It wound itself looked like it was about to close up but when Dean said there was no exit wound, I got a little worried.

“Hey you remember when you were little, and how I used to always distract you? You know when it involved a band-aid or something like that?” Dean asked as he got the rubbing alcohol out and poured it onto a cotton patch.

“Yeah you—used to tell some stupid joke. You even did it for the munchkin there.”

“Don’t go there green giant.” I mocked.

“Knock, knock.” Sam at first turned away like it was a joke. “Come on knock, knock.”

“Who’s—” before he could say there, Dean placed the patch on his bullet wound.

“Still got it.” Dean praised himself with a grin. I shook my head and I said nervously.

“Hey guys,” they turned towards me and I continued, “So—when Chuck said welcome to the end…..do you think he meant this? I mean by like—ending the entire human race with ghosts, demons, and all that?”

“Baby girl you know as well as I do he’s been playing us the entire time. So screw him.” Dean said.

“I know but….think about it. If one of us dies, that’s it. We’ve been lucky in the past but now that he’s pissed at us. He’s gonna ensure that no one or nothing brings us back. No resurrections this time. I may not look it but—I’m terrified guys.” Sam being the caring brother that he is, wrapped his arms around me in a big bear hug and I continued. “We’re nothing but rats to him. And now that he’s had his fun, he’s gonna ensure that we end up in the pathway with furious cats ready to devour us. While he just sits back and watches us being ripped apart.”

“Yeah nothing but rats in a maze. Sure we could go left, sure we could go right. But we were stuck in the damn maze. It makes you think—what did all of it mean?” Dean said agreeing with me.

“It meant a lot.” Sam answered. “We still saved people, saved you kiddo.” Sam said looking down at me.

“But what for?” I asked. He stroked down my hair. “He just throws us one end of the world after another and sits back just to make us do all the hard work.”

“Yeah. That’s what he does. He gets bored and-and-and-and pulls the rip-chord. That’s what he did with Apocalypse world, and probably….. with all of them. He moves on and starts another story. And you know what—good. Because if he bailed it’s just us. For the first time; it’s just us.”

“You forgot the 3 billion ghosts there Sammy.” I said.

“Yeah well what’s one more apocalypse right?” I softly laughed and shook my head. Sam patted my back comfortingly as he separated from me. “But seriously. If we win—when we win this. God’s gone. There’s no one to screw with us, there’s no more maze, it’s just us. Then we’re free.”

“So you, me and (n/n) versus every soul in hell……I like those odds.”

“Yeah. Me too.” The boys looked at me and Dean asked me.

“(N/n)?” I looked at them. I sighed deeply before saying.

“Well….I guess you know what this means, right boys?” they softly grinned at me and we turned towards Baby’s trunk as Sam said.

“We’ve got work to do.” Before closing it up.

498 notes · View notes

marimeetsmischief · 5 years

Text

can i be basic (with you)?

read on ao3

tags: fluff, little bit of angst, mostly marichat, identity reveal, WHOOPS self indulgent

summary:

so are you feeling stupid, too?

i hope i'm not the only fool.

don't wanna run away from you.

inspired by the song "basic" by sigrid <3

___

Marinette?"

The girl finally took notice and looked at him, a spaced out expression slowly draining off of her fave and giving way to a sheepish smile.

"Oh, sorry Chat Noir, what were you saying?"

He laughed softly, shaking his head at her. "That's the fourth time tonight, you know," he teased, nudging her with his elbow gently.

She rolled her eyes, shoving him playfully in return. This was a comfortable habit by now. Once or twice a week, he would drop in on her after patrols, and she just seemed to be full of never-ending acceptance of him. Sometimes she would open the skylight before he could even knock, already climbing out with drinks or snacks for them to share. All it ever did was reaffirm for him that Marinette was the most unconditionally kind person he had ever met. It was so easy to look at her, practically glowing under the moonlight, so full of softness and life, so easy that sometimes he forgot about everything else.

"Who's the one spacing out now, huh?" She said, waving her hand in front of his eyes. He jumped back a little, turning red and then shaking his head.

His hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing at it anxiously as he tried to offer her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Purrincess," he joked, always unable to resist the punny nickname when it came to her.

She groaned, smacking her palm into her face at the nickname. At first, she had ignored it, and even seemed a little embarrassed by it, but that was probably because he had gone just a little overboard on the charm when she had helped him with the Evillustrator. Now that they considered each other friends for real though, she didn't hide her mix of amused annoyance, something that reminding him so much of his favorite spotted heroine.

"When are you gonna let that awful nickname go?" she asked with an exasperated sigh, even as the corners of her lips crept up in a smile.

He grinned in response, hopping up from his seated position on the railing and standing on it instead. He dipped into a low bow, holding his hand out in a dramatic flair of princely behavior. "You have to admit that it's kind of fitting, Princess. A room at the top of the tower, a balcony that looks over the city, and the beautiful princess waiting for her prince," he added with a wink, still grinning as he walked along the railing toward her.

"Oh, you think I'm beautiful, huh?"

His foot slipped as he realized exactly what he had said, and he tumbled off the railing, thankfully only onto the balcony instead of down onto the street.

"Chat!" She yelped, jumping straight up as he fell and darting over to him. "OhmygodImsosorry, are you okay?!"

Rolling over onto his back, he looked up at her. She had kneeled down behind his head and now she was leaned over him, staring at him with those brilliant blue eyes of hers.

"You really are beautiful, Marinette," he said softly, locking his eyes onto hers with so much certainty in his look. Her eyes slowly widened and her lips parted, and then he realized that he had done it again. Both of their faces turned red and he scrambled to sit up quickly, only to knock his forehead into hers with a solid thud.

She leaned back immediately, holding her hand to her forehead. "Ouch, Chat, sheesh. What are you trying to do, give me amnesia?"

"Uh, purrhaps?" he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck again. "Sorry, Mari, for your head, and the uh... you know."

Laughing, she shrugged it off, even though her very red face made it clear that she was more than a little embarrassed. "Isn't Ladybug usually the one who's at the receiving end of your compliments?" she asked, trying to brush past the obvious awkwardness.

She was right, of course. It was normally his lady that occupied his thoughts, because she had always been extraordinary. Still, he shrugged and sighed, leaning back on his arms to look up at the sky. "My Lady is amazing. That's always been true, and it always will be. Things are just... more complicated lately."

"Complicated?" she said quietly. He heard her moving around, and then she was sitting next to him with a curious expression.

"Ah. Sorry, I don't know." He shook his head, sitting straight up again, glancing over at her. He knew exactly what his complication was, but he wasn't sure he could really bring himself to say it either.

She met his glance, offering a kind smile that made his heartbeat jump. "You can talk to me, you know," she murmured softly, a hint of an emotion he couldn't place on her face. She seemed almost... conflicted?

"I love Ladybug. I've always made that clear," he started explain. After another glance at her made him nervous, he leaned back to lie down on the balcony floor, staring up at the sky, which somehow didn't help as much as he thought it would because all he could think was that her eyes sparkled more than the sky ever could.

"Yeah..." she finally mumbled in response, which shook him out of his quickly spiraling thoughts.

"I, um, I might be starting to think I'm in love with... someone else, too," he admitted finally, chickening out of the confession at the last second. "I've always thought that Ladybug was 'it' for me. She's this brilliant beacon of hope and goodness, but sometimes she really does feel like an actual beacon. Like I can see her light, and it's close, but it's just out of reach, and if I try too hard, I'll get smashed on the rocks. I guess that being in love like that is starting to feel... complicated."

He paused, closing his eyes as he started to picture his Lady in his mind. She was as beautiful as ever, and she still made his heart go crazy but... there was hesitance now, and he knew that the oddly silent girl next to him was the cause.

"This other girl, even though she's made my feelings complicated, she somehow manages to make things so simple all at once. If Ladybug is the sun, then she's like the moon. She's soft, and sometimes sad, and even if she reminds me of Ladybug in some ways, she's still entirely herself in everything she does." Realizing that he had been rambling like a fool, he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to shrug it off. "Wow, sorry, I don't know where that came from!"

Marinette shifted slightly and looked at him, starting to stand up before pausing to speak. "It sounds like you really care about them both, Chat," she offered quietly, then stood up the rest of the way. He turned his head to watch her walk to the railing, leaning onto it so heavily that it made his heart hurt for some reason. She just seemed so tired. "I know how you feel," she mumbled so softly that he probably wouldn't have heard it without his cat hearing.

"What do you mean?" he asked in response, and she jumped slightly, almost like she had forgotten he was there.

"Oh. Well, I've already told you about the boy I've been crushing on for a while now but there's sort of someone else creeping into my heart too? So, I guess I just understand what you're feeling."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that. He knew she liked someone, even if he wasn't sure who it was. He had managed to convince himself that maybe he had more of a chance with her than Ladybug though, but if she liked two people? That made him a lot less sure. Trying to process this, he sat in silence and she didn't appear to want to interrupt it either. Both of them were stuck in thought, and finally he just sighed, clambering to his feet.

"Hey, Marinette?" He called softly, standing just behind her with his hand rubbing the back of his neck again. She turned around quickly, trying to get rid of the sad look on her face before she faced him, though he could still see it in her eyes.

"What is it Chat?" she asked, stepping away from the railing and towards him.

He held out a hand, and after a moment of hesitation, she put her hand in his. Using it as a tether, he gently pulled her forward and then grabbed her other hand too, holding them both in his own. He looked down at her hands, turning her palms up and tracing the lines with his thumbs.

"Chat?" she asked again, a little quieter this time.

"I don't want to be complicated anymore, Marinette." He paused, taking a deep breath and flicking his gaze up to her eyes before bring it back down again. He wouldn't be able to say what he wanted to if he was looking into those, that was for sure. "I... It's you, Marinette. I think that, well, no, I know that I'm falling for you."

His heart almost stopped at the soft way her breath hitched and she froze stone still. Before she could question him or try to speak, he hurried to explain.

"At first I just wanted to come here because you were just so... confusing to me. I know I shouldn't say this, but I know you as my civilian self."

"Chat! You can't-"

He nodded, finally looking up at her. "I know. It's just hard. Having the mask just makes things so complicated!" He squeezed her hands, trying to bring himself back down to a more calm state. "And I hate things being complicated. My life, all of it, has always been complicated enough. I don't regret accepting the miraculous, but sometimes I just wish that things were easier, so please just hear me out on this, okay?"

She looked skeptical at first, and hesitant to let him do something they both knew had risks. Still, he mustered up the most heartfelt pleading look he could, and she relented with a sigh. "Alright."

"You... you act so different, around civilian me? I know I can't tell you a lot of details or how close we are, even, but it's just always been a mystery to me." Pausing, he took another deep breath and tried to figure out what to say without overwhelming her. "Marinette, you're kind of the most amazing person I know."

"That! Well, that can't be true, I mean.. Ladybug, right?!" she sputtered, starting to pull away from him slightly as her face flushed red.

"It's not the same. Ladybug is... she's a hero. People just kind of expect kindness from her, and yeah, maybe it's not required, but she just sees it as part of the role. But you? You're just nice to everyone, because you want to be! It's like you were literally made of kindness. Even with me..." He looked up at her, letting go of her hands finally. She was doing her best to avoid looking at him, and he gently tilted her face back towards him. "You've been so kind to me. Both sides of me, even when you barely knew me and had no reason to be. With the life I live, you, Princess, are one of the only people who truly makes me feel real."

She sniffled softly, and he could see tears starting to form in her eyes, something that made his heart drop. "I... I don't know what to say to that, Chat."

"You don't have to say anything, really, I just needed to un-complicate things, a little." He smiled sadly, moving back to give her some space again. He watched her reach up to wipe her eyes and sighed, frustrated with himself and the circumstances.

Seeing her tears start to spill over, he sighed again. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled her into his arms and wrapped around her tightly. "I hate that I caused this. I'm sorry, Princess."

"It's not your fault, silly cat," she mumbled softly, starting to relax in his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder, her arms twined around his torso. He couldn't help but be a little pleased that she still wanted to be around him, and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head. She sighed at that, squeezing him a little tighter. "It's just that things are still so complicated. Gosh, I hate that word."

"Well, maybe I can make things less complicated," he said thoughtfully. It was something he never thought he would consider, but now that he had, the thought was implanted in his mind. "I don't want things to be complicated or difficult for either of us. I'm okay with going in blind if it means I'll crash into you. You're the most trustworthy person I know, Marinette."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, pulling back slightly to give him a puzzled look.

He sighed, giving her a lopsided grin that didn't match the worry in his eyes. "Please don't be mad at me," he said, barely pausing before rushing into the next phrase. "Plagg, claws in."

"Chat, wait!" she squeaked out, but it was too late. There was a blinding flash of green light and she slammed her eyes shut, and then slapped her hand over them for good measure.

"Marinette, please," he said softly, reaching for her hands. He gently tugged the first one away, bringing it up to kiss her palm. "I need you to see me, all of me."

He could see that she was shaking, and probably angry with him, if her silence was any indication.

"I know that you're in love with two probably great guys. I know that I probably don't measure up to them either. And... if you really don't feel comfortable with this, I can transform again," he said, looking over his shoulder for his kwami, who he spotted lurking near a potted plant. The tiny cat god had no sarcastic comments, which was a shock, instead just nodding at him. "I used to think Ladybug would be the first one to know. Maybe she still should be, but I just know that you kind of mean everything to me, and I can't hide from you anymore."

When he had finished speaking, he let go of her hands, stepping back out of her space. She didn't move to cover her eyes with her hands, which was a relief, but she also wasn't opening her eyes either. She seemed like a statue, completely frozen in thought. He tried to wait it out, but after a few minutes, it seemed clear that she wasn't okay with this.

"I'm sorry, Marinette. I'll go, okay? Plagg-"

"W-wait!" she stammered out, reaching one hand out for him. He quickly wrapped both of his around it and squeezed hers reassuringly, trying to offer her any kind of comfort he could.

"It's okay. You don't have to force this," he said, giving her hand another soft squeeze.

"No, no. I... you're right. I don't want things to be complicated anymore." She took a deep breath, bringing her other hand up to squeeze his in return. After what felt like forever, her face un-scrunched itself and her eyes fluttered open.

At first, she didn't react at all. The world was perfectly still, and he couldn't really even see anything but her. Then, the realization started to kick in, and her eyes widened. From there, he watched her expression shift to something softer, and then there was embarrassment, some sadness, more shock, and every other possible emotion. Finally, she settled on a small smile and teary eyes, squeezing his hands.

"Adrien. It's you." she said, barely above a whisper. The tension seemed to have slipped off of her shoulders with those words, and she looked more lovely than anything he had ever seen.

"Yeah... Is that okay?" he finally managed to ask, letting go of her hands to rub his neck for the millionth time that night. She sure managed to make him uncertain sometimes, that was clear.

Instead of speaking, she just rolled her eyes and before he knew what was happening, she had crashed into him. She wrapped her arms around him, slightly on the tips of her toes to lean into him more. He felt himself relax all at once and hurried to return the embrace, practically lifting her up and spinning her around in his excitement.

"Of course it's okay, silly cat," she mumbled softly into his shoulder. "It's better than okay," actually," she added as an afterthought, and he looked down at her questioningly.

"Better than okay?"

She froze, leaning back to give him a sheepish and embarrassed smile. "Yeah, uh. The two guys that I have... feelings for, are you. Well, Adrien-you, and Chat-you."

He stepped back, gaping at her with wide eyes. "Wait, you had feelings for me and... me?" She only nodded in response and he grinned again, sweeping her into another enthusiastic hug, and then abruptly stopping again. "Which feelings came first?"

"Cha- I mean, Adrien! Agh!" She groaned, roughly rubbing her face with her hands, which only made him laugh. Hearing his amusement, she pulled her hands away and tried to glare at him but failed, pouting instead. "It's not funny!"

"I'm sorry! You're just cute when you're frustrated, Purrrrrincess," he said with an overdramatic flair, shooting her a grin. She was red in the face, and fighting to find words like she often did around his civilian self, and that made much more sense now. "You must find me pretty irresistible then, since you fell for me twice, how cute."

She shot another glare at him, though this one quickly became a smirk that terrified him. She chuckled slightly under her breath, and leaned up onto to her toes again. He froze as she got closer and closer to his face and watched her eagerly, trying not to be disappointed when she pressed a kiss to his cheek. He thought she would back down after that, but instead she leaned forward more, stopping when her mouth was so close to his ear that he could feel her breath. "You fell for me twice, too, Chaton."

His eyes widened and he started to respond, but before he could even get a syllable out, she had moved again and instead pressed her lips to his. Every single thought evaporated from his mind and the whole world became the vanilla and sweetness that he could taste on Marinette's - Ladybug's? - lips. He tilted his head to return the kiss, holding her in his arms like the treasure that she was. She felt so much like home to him, and he finally understood why trusting her had been as easy as breathing. Even physically, she fit perfectly in his arms, and her lips felt like they were molded to be kissed by him.

When they finally broke apart, she looked up at him and he met her eyes. Part of him felt ridiculous for thinking there could ever be two people with eyes as positively magical as hers.

"I love you," she said softly, her endlessly blue eyes filled to the brim with the sentiment to match her words.

"And I love you, m'Lady."

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #marichat #identity reveal #lovesquare #miraculous ladybug fan fic #ml fanfic #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

Text

Amoureux (c.s./d.s.) - Chapter Twenty-Three

A/N This song’s chapter is Water Fountain by Alec Benjamin <3

The rest of the day was spent with Louisa resting in her room, her body exhausted from the draining events of the last few days. She didn’t hear much movement and thankfully barely any speaking or yelling, the palace down to a steady silence. She drifted in and out of sleep most of the afternoon, the guilt and shame and sadness eating at her heart every time she woke. It was so much easier to just sleep through it all. She just wanted to wake up back at Versailles.

The King had never seen his eldest son so angry in all twenty and a half years of knowing him. They spent the entire afternoon in the office, the King sat behind his desk and Christian pacing the room, screaming and cursing at the top of his lungs until he finally exhausted himself and slumped into a chair to logically discuss where to go from there. His hurt was apparent as he had fallen head over heels for Louisa from the first moment, he laid eyes on her and his love had only grown tenfold since then. There was nothing Christian was more sure of in life than wanting to marry her; and having Daniel ruin that was the last straw. Christian had dealt with Daniel’s extroverted and attention seeking personality since his brother was a toddler, always finding a way to turn anything and everything onto himself. Christian couldn’t help but think that this was just another one of his stupid plots to get under his skin, taking something that wasn’t his; Louisa. It infuriated him.

What Christian didn’t know that Daniel was hurting just as badly, locked in his room with his spare keys confiscated as his room was searched before he was left in there with his own mind. He paced his floor for hours, mind reeling about how much he hurt Christian, how much he hurt Louisa, and how he was most likely awaiting his trial for his execution. For sixteen-year-old Daniel, it was the single most terrifying thing to ever happen to him and he was sure that he was having a mental breakdown. He always lived by the seam of his pants, acting first and thinking second; and after his argument with Louisa the morning of the wedding, he was ready to do anything to get her for himself, away from Christian who he figured wasn’t good for her. It made sense to himself, to stand up and confess his love to Louisa, to save her from this arranged marriage – perfect sense, but as soon as Christian walked out of the church, Daniel knew he messed up badly. He knew he deserved punishment, but he was dreading the idea of being hung by the hand of his brother. He didn’t want to die.

Louisa woke the next morning and it took all her effort to get out of bed. Mary helped her tidy herself up and dress, neither woman saying a word. What was there to say when the palace was falling to dust around them? Louisa planned to take the day to talk to Christian and resolve their obvious tension before finding Daniel to hear what the hell he was thinking and hopefully smooth things over and burn some bridges. It was going to be a draining day.

Louisa stepped out of her bedroom to find the grand staircase noisy and the foyer bustling with people. She walked down the stairs slowly, watching various butlers carrying trunks and chests into the waiting carriage under the controlling order of Jonah. Louisa stopped at the landing, her hand resting on the banister as she watched the men move the items quickly.

“Jonah.” she called, her voice rough from all her crying and he looked up towards her before excusing himself from the butlers and walked up to meet her at the landing.

“Your Royal Highness.” he bowed to her. “Good to see you awake.”

“Jonah, what is going on?” Louisa asked slowly, keeping her eyes narrowed in confusion towards the carriage through the open doors.

“Prince Christian and the King have come to the conclusion that Daniel will be leaving today.”

“Leaving?” Louisa turned to him quickly. “Leaving for how long?”

“The King chose to pardon the usual charge and punishment of treason and simply banish him from England to avoid anymore…situations.” Jonah explained.

Louisa couldn’t respond, her mouth fallen open in shock as she looked back to the trunks being loaded onto the carriage.

“He is still a child. Where are they sending him?”

“Either Spain or Denmark; whichever ship leaves earliest when they arrive to the port by tomorrow morning.” Jonah said. “I am sure Prince Christian will speak with you today, but the wedding has been postponed to the end of this week.”

“He still wants to marry me?” Louisa asked, turning back to Jonah.

“Yes, ma’am. He does intend on keeping the arrangement and marrying you by Saturday.”

Louisa couldn’t even smile at that relief of a statement as she glanced back to the carriage. She couldn’t believe Christian would just get rid of his brother so easily, that the King would get rid of his son that easily. She wondered if Christian would have actually sent Daniel to be executed if it was ultimately his decision.

“May I see Prince Daniel before he leaves?” Louisa asked before she could think it through.

Jonah hesitated, contemplating that question a moment, but he looked at her and nodded once, “I will have to be there as well, however, as he is legally a criminal and you are not permitted to be put in any possible danger.”

Louisa wanted to laugh in his face; Christian was more of a danger than Daniel.

She followed Jonah back up the stairs and to a door at the far end of the hallway. He pulled out a ring of keys and unlocked the door before leading her inside. Daniel was sat on his window sill in his near empty room, staring out at the courtyard where the carriage was being packed up with his things and biting his fingernail anxiously. At the sound of the door shutting again, he looked over, his eyes widening at the sight of Louisa and he breathed her name as he jumped to his feet to greet her. Jonah set a hand out to stop him before he could hug her and Daniel pouted lightly as he simply stared at her. He looked so much younger than she remembered, his hair sticking up in all directions and his blue eyes rimmed with red and cheeks flushed pink from crying, and he was dressed in only a white button up, trousers, and black boots, as if his wardrobe had been taken from him along with his citizenship.

“I’m sorry.” Daniel said softly. He glanced at Jonah and then back at Louisa.

She had prepared a whole speech to tell him how much he hurt her and how stupid he was but she seemed to forget it all in that moment. Louisa’s bottom lip trembled a moment and she looked to the ground to keep from crying.

“I will wait outside.” Jonah whispered to the two of them. “Do not make me regret this decision.”

They nodded thankfully to him and Daniel watched him leave and close the door, leaving it open only a crack. Daniel looked back to Louisa and took a step closer, hesitantly reaching out to lift her head to look at him.

“Why would you do this?” she cried softly. “Why’d you have to tell everyone like that?”

Daniel swallowed thickly, bowing his head in shame, “I know. I wasn’t thinking. I was upset from our argument and I did the worst thing to you and to Christian. It was so wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

He expected her to yell about her ruined relationship with Christian and how he deserved everything that came his way, but she took him by surprise with a gentle, “Now I will never see you again.”

Daniel bit back his tears, sick of crying so much the past days and exhausted from thinking she hated his guts, the relief shamefully blissful, and he engulfed her in a tight embrace. Louisa clung onto his shirt in her fists, burying her face in his neck and let herself cry.

“At least I won’t be hanged.” Daniel tried to joke but it only made her hold him tighter. He rubbed his hand over her back, closing his eyes tightly as if trying to forever remember the feeling of her in his arms. After a moment, they separated just enough to look at each other and Daniel wiped her tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

“Christian moved the wedding to Saturday.” Louisa whispered.

“I know.” Daniel nodded, sliding his hands into hers between them.

Louisa sniffled and looked down to their entwined hands, stood just the same way as she and Christian were two days prior. She gave his hands a small squeeze.

“You’re going to look beautiful.” Daniel whispered. “My brother’s a lucky man.”

“And a little psychotic.” Louisa chuckled, turning back to look at his face.

Daniel didn’t even crack a smile as he shook his head tiredly, “No. He’s a good guy. He means well. He’s gonna treat you so good.”

Louisa nodded as she took a trembling breath, ignoring his sloppy grammar, her nose scrunching as she struggled not to cry.

“Come here.” Daniel sighed, stepping closer to slide a hand against her face and press a kiss to her other cheek, his other hand wrapping around her back and held her close.

She closed her eyes as they stood motionless for a moment, resting her head against his shoulder, arms snug around his waist. The palace was silent, so silent she could almost hear their heartbeats, feeling Daniel’s soft breath against her neck, his thumb rubbing soft patterns over her back.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Daniel whispered, after a while of silence, his words muffled with his hesitation to speak, “but I love you.”

Louisa sighed, letting the words linger in the air a moment. Even if she wanted to reply, she didn’t have the opportunity as the door opened quickly and they separated in record speed – something they were all too used to doing – and two Royal Guards came in with Jonah. Jonah pulled Louisa back and she stared with wide eyes as the two men turned Daniel around and tugged his hands behind his back aggressively, shoving him forward against the wooden post of his blue canopy bed. Daniel shut his eyes for a moment as they handcuffed him and he glanced over at Louisa as they tightened them, the sound of the rusted steel chains echoing off the walls of his elegant bedroom.

“It’s okay.” Daniel whispered to her, wincing as they tugged him back by a rough hand on the back of his shirt. “I’ll be okay. Be good to my brother.”

He couldn’t help the cheeky little wink as they pushed him out of the room and towards the stairs, Jonah and Louisa following as well. The rest of the family was already stood on the landing, Anna hiding behind her mother in slight fear as her brother was pushed past them in shackles, the Queen unable to even look at her son as she swallowed back her shame, and the King and Christian watching with straight lined expressions. Christian glanced to Louisa as she joined them and he grabbed her arm to pull her closer, almost as if to keep her as far away from Daniel as possible.

The younger brother looked over his shoulder to take one last look at his family as they reached the bottom of the stairs and he met Louisa’s frightened gaze before being tugged out the door by the guards. Christian’s grip on her arm tightened and she winced quietly, not bothering to speak her complaint. The family watched as Daniel was driven away, seeing the silhouette of his bowed head through the back window as the carriage disappeared through the palace gates.

#daniel seavey #christian seavey #why dont we #wdw #why dont we music #jonah marais #jack avery #corbyn besson #zach herron #daniel seavey imagines #daniel seavey fanfic #wdw fanfic #royal!wdw #wdw imagines #why dont we imagines #why dont we fanfic #historical fiction #👑

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heauxplesslydevoted · 5 years

Text

Early Mornings (Thomas x MC)

Summary: Just an average morning in the Mendez-Day household.

This probably would’ve been up earlier, but I have a sick 3 year old niece at my house who is very clingy and needs constant attention and cuddles, lol. This idea was given to me by the lovely @akacalliope whom I am super grateful for because a girl was having major writer’s block. Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list (in general or for Thomas)

Fair warning, this story ended up being a bit smuttier than I anticipated, so by reading this you acknowledge you are 18+.

Tags: @canknot @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @cxld-play @thefangirl-2001 @blackcoffee85

~~~

“How many more minutes until the alarm goes off?”

Thomas turns his head and looks at the alarm clock on his bedside table. “11 minutes.”

Marissa ignores the warm light that’s trying to peak through the curtains. She burrows deeper into the bed and sighs. Seriously, how did she ever live without an amazing memory foam mattress and down comforters? “Great. Wake me up again in 11 minutes.”

“You can’t seriously go back to bed, can you?” Thomas asks incredulously. “That’s not enough time.”

“Um, I’m the queen of power naps.”

Thomas chuckles and wraps his arm tight around his fiancé’s waist, pulling her closer to him. He plants a kiss on the back of her shoulder, before moving up slowly, peppering kisses up the back of her neck. “I’d rather do this.”

She shivers pleasantly at the feel of his lips on her neck. “That’s a nice gesture.”

“But is it better than going back to sleep?”

“Mhmm, I don’t know,” Marissa teases playfully. “You might need to do it again. For research purposes, of course.”

“Of course. I’m more than happy to oblige, madam.” Thomas’ finger slips under the strap of the tank top Marissa’s wearing and slides it down, exposing more of her shoulder. He teeth gently graze the flesh, before he kisses it. “How about now?”

“Definitely getting warmer.” Marissa turns her head so she can look at Thomas. “Good morning.”

“Morning, beautiful.”

Marissa tilts her head up and snakes her arm around the back of his neck and head, pushing him towards her. She captures him in a greedy kiss.

Thomas responds eagerly, his tongue sweeping past her lips and melding with her own. His hand leaves her waist and he skims the smooth expanse of her stomach until he reaches her breast, cupping one of them.

A low moan escapes the back of Marissa’s throat and she arches against him, pressing into his morning arousal.

“Marissa…” Thomas warns, growling into her ear.

“Yes, counselor?”

Thomas can’t hold back his own moan as the words leave her mouth. He squeezes her breast before taking one of hardened nipples between his fingers, rolling it. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“I-If my memory s-s-serves me correctly, I’m not the one w-who started this.” The grip she has on the back of his head tightens, her nails gently grazing his scalp. “Let’s see how much you can accomplish in a 7 short minutes.”

“You’ll be surprised to see what I can do with a limited amount of time. And I’ll have you know something, Miss Day, I never shy away from a challenge.”

He grabs her face and kisses her again, harder this time, the urgency and desperation evident. He had never felt more grateful for the fact that he only wore boxers to bed. While the official reason was that he got incredibly warm in his sleep — Marissa constantly called him her own personal heater — Thomas couldn’t deny that it was extremely convenient for morning quickies. Taking a hand, he quickly shoves the boxers down and haphazardly kicks them away, not caring where they land.

He then hooks his thumb into the waistband on his fiancé’s underwear and tugs them. Marissa lifts her hips in order to assist. His fingertips slowly trail down her thigh, a trail of goosebumps left in their wake. “You’re so soft. It should be a crime.”

“Thomas,” Marissa exhales. “You’re being a tease.”

His breath is warm on her neck as he pants behind her. He chuckles deeply. “You have no patience, my love.”

“I have the patience of a saint,” Marissa argues. She flips them over so she’s on top of Thomas. “I’m just choosing not to exercise it.”

Whatever witty response Thomas has geared up on the tip of his tongue dies as soon as she lowers herself onto him. His eyes flutter shut at the feel of her completely enveloping him.

She rocks her hips forward, and Thomas lifts his up, meeting her halfway. After a few thrusts, they fall into a slow rhythm. Her nails rake across his chest, uncaring if she actually scratches him. Thomas doesn’t mind either. They enjoy marking each other up every once in a while‍‍. Besides, a well placed scratch or hickey makes for interesting gossip fodder for the PTA, and Marissa knows how much they love talking about her.

His hands roam every inch of skin his can touch — her thighs, her stomach, her breasts, her arms. Every touch of the skin only sets her on fire and spurs her movements on further. He drops his hand down between them, his thumb finding her clit, drawing slow, lazy circles. Thomas watches as Marissa’s eyes close and her head drops back with a shuddered moan.

Her thighs start to tremble and that all familiar ache settles in her lower stomach. “Fuck,” she hisses under her breath. “Thomas, I’m s-so...close.”

“Come on,” Thomas coaxes, his pace on her clit quickening. “Cum for me, Mari.”

A silent cries escapes her lips as her orgasm rolls through her. Thomas follows behind a few thrusts later, spilling into her.

Marissa falls forward, her head landing on his chest. The room was silent, save for their heavy pants, the couple trying to catch their breaths. Thomas places a hand on the small of her back, softly stroking her skin.

“Why don’t we do that more often?” Marissa asks rhetorically. As soon as the words leave her mouth, the shrill sound of their alarm clock goes off, startling them out of their peaceful bubble.

“Because we’re never going to get up early enough to do it often,” Thomas answers with a sigh. “And even if we ignore our alarm clock, we have two tiny humans that will wake us up.”

Marissa rolls over and gets out of bed. “True. Join me in the shower before we have to get the girls up?”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

~V~

Forty-five minutes later, the Mendez-Day household is in fully up and ready to begin the day.

Thomas is getting dressed for work, while Marissa is in the kitchen with Luz and Ivy, making breakfast.

Ever since getting engaged and moving in with Thomas and Luz four months ago, the four of them settled into a pretty seamless routine. Marissa helped the girls get dressed for the day, they ate breakfast together, and Thomas reviewed their homework before dropping them off.

“How about just cereal for breakfast?” Marissa suggests. “I won’t have to cook, and that way I’ll still have time to do your hair for picture day. What styles are we going with again?”

“Braids,” Luz says.

“Ballerina bun.”

“Braids and ballerina bun, got it.” Marissa grabs a box of Cap’n Crunch from the pantry and pours two bowls.

“Don’t forget I have soccer practice after school,” Luz says, accepting a bowl of cereal.

“Of course not. It’s over at 5:30. And Ivy has science club until 5, so she’ll get picked up first and then we’ll swing by and get you.”

“Can you bring snacks for the team?” Luz asks.

Marissa checks back in the pantry, scanning to see if they had enough of one snack to feed a bunch of hungry kids. Nope. “I’ll head to the grocery store as soon you guys leave, and pick up Capri Suns and...trail mix. Is trail mix good?”

“It has to be cranberry kind.”

“You got it, dude.”

After breakfast and getting the girls prepared for picture day, Marissa grabs their backpacks, ready to usher everyone out of the door.

“Do you pack lunches or do the girls need lunch money?” Thomas asks.

Marissa adjusts Thomas’ tie and smooths out the lapels of his suit jacket. “I added lunch money onto their accounts last Friday, they should be good for two weeks.”

“Okay. And have you seen my briefcase?”

“In your car.”

“And there’s no permission slips we need to sign or conferences we’re forgetting?”

Marissa shakes her head. “No. Are you picking the girls up later or am I?”

“Will you be out of class by then?”

A few months ago, Marissa enrolled in the local college to finish her bachelor’s degree. Thankfully she was just a few credits shy, and only had to take two classes, one of them online.

“Class will be over at 1:30, I’m good.”

“Can you pick them up, just in case I end up staying a bit late at the office? I don’t plan on it, but sometimes they hold me hostage.”

“No problem.” Marissa turns to Ivy and Luz. “Let’s do takeout for dinner. Chinese food, pizza, or Thai?”

“Pizza!” The girls say in unison.

“Pizza it is.” She bends down to kiss both of their foreheads. “Have a good day at school, my little chickadees. Make good choices, be brilliant.”

“Bye mom.”

“Bye Marissa!”

Thomas wraps an arm around Marissa’s waist and spins her around. “I don’t get any love?”

“I think you’ve had your fair share for the day, Mister.”

Thomas smirks. “Nonsense. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.”

“Have a good day, my love. May you be the best lawyer at your firm, win all of your cases, and have easygoing clients.” Marissa obliges him and gives him a sweet kiss on the lips, ignoring the obnoxious sounds the kids were making at the display of affection.

“Okay, I’ve heard enough from the peanut gallery.” Marissa says once she pulls away. “I love you guys.”

“Love you too.”

Once the three of them are gone, Marissa dramatically plops down on the couch. She closes her eyes, hoping to get a few moments of rest.

As soon as she closes her eyes, her phone buzzes loudly. Her eyes snap open at the noise. Pulling her cell out of her pocket, she sees it’s her group text message thread, from the PTA, asking her questions about new fundraiser ideas.

She sighs. “No rest for the weary.”

#choices: stories you play #playchoices #mother of the year #moty #thomas mendez #thomas mendez x mc #ns*fw

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revisitingstoneybrook · 4 years

Text

#15 Little Miss Stoneybrook...and Dawn: Chapter 14

No spoilers for who wins the pageant but the foreshadowing is so obvious you can probably figure it out. And there’s bruised egos all around in the BSC.

The pageant officially starts! The host says this is the first annual (and probably the only, since we never hear of this pageant again) Little Miss Stoneybrook pageant and it's sponsored by Dewdrop Hair Care, “hair products for today's youth!” Kristy makes a stupid joke, wondering about next week's youth. Say what you will about Abby being a Kristy clone, at least her jokes aren't as dumb as that one.

The judges are introduced: the owner of Bellair's, the head of the Stoneybrook Dancing School (thankfully not Mme Noelle or else we'd be subjected to zee french ak-zent), Mrs. Peabody (I assume from the charm school Karen goes to at one point. Continuity!) and some doctor, according to Dawn. I wonder what it feels like to be a doctor and have “judging kiddie beauty pageants” as your side hustle. The host says he'd like to “send heartfelt good wishes to each and every little miss who is backstage right now” and Kristy says “Gag me!” Actually keeping with the times and using some 80s slang, good on you, Ann Martin.

“Marching music” is blasted through the auditorium and the girls trek across the stage for the opening procession. Sadly, no opening musical number:

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You know Karen would have shoved her way to the front with some lyrics she wrote herself like she did in her class Thanksgiving play.

Claire starts killing her odds of winning right away by tacking onto the end of her introduction, “Oh hi Mommy! Hi Daddy! Hi Mallory!” before she gets moved away and misses shaking Mrs. Peabody's hand. Oops. Maybe it's a good thing they cut her off or else the pageant would have taken much longer for her to name her whole family. And I'm surprised Mallory's there and isn't staging a protest with Jessi outside, complete with a bonfire of lipstick, hair curlers, and false eyelashes.

Margo does well, no one notices because she's overshadowed by the professional-ness of Sabrina Bouvier the Younger. I'm surprised she didn't say, “I'm Sabrina Bouvier, I'm seven years old and when I grow up, I want to be a sweetie pie! *bats eyelash implants*” Dawn tries to reassure herself that grace and charm really won't help in a beauty pageant. Maybe Sabrina isn't that talented, maybe her intelligence is hovering in the same area as Claudia's.

Now it's the part we've all been waiting for...the talent. The first contestant sings the national anthem while dressed in a red, white and blue sequined leotard. Claudia and Dawn share a laugh at how crappy she sounds and Claudia makes a mental note to ask the girl where she got the leotard from and whether they carry it in teen sizes. The second contestant sings a song she wrote called “I Love My Dog” but nothing is said about her because the true talent is taking the stage as she leaves. Myriah Perkins, in a pink leotard and tutu and black tap shoes, carrying a big lollipop, brings the house down with her rendition of “On the Good Ship Lollipop,” with a dance routine I'm guessing she choreographed herself. I'm surprised she isn't blindfolded and flawlessly juggling three hoops of fire too. She's met with tons of applause, and even cheering and whistling.

How do you follow that up? With Claire Pike! She says she doesn't want to do it but goes out anyway. For a moment she just stands there, doing nothing. Dawn eggs her on from offstage and Claire sings her Popeye song, does the hornpipe (and looks bored doing it), then sings again with the hand gestures. The audience, much to Dawn's relief, loves it. Claire hams it up even more and the audience laughs and gives her lots of applause. And, in a more shocking move, Kristy gives Dawn a thumbs-up for bringing Claire the Comedienne into the fray.

Claire's followed by a mediocre pianist and a failed baton twirler. Karen's up next and she goes onstage wearing her yellow flower girl dress. Dawn wonders if she's going to sing a love song. Oh no, Dawn. Instead of belting out “You Light Up My Life” or “Endless Love,” she sings the wonderful romantic ballad “The Wheels on the Bus.” FIFTEEN VERSES OF IT. Omitted from the text are the people in the audience screaming in agony as she makes up more verses on the spot, including “The people on the bus are tired and hot.” After the judges start looking at their watches, Karen takes a hint and finishes up. Surprisingly, Kristy doesn't act confident and smug and she and Dawn just shrug at each other.

A ballerina performs, Dawn remarks she's good (hold that thought, we'll return to it later) and then Sabrina the Younger comes onstage in a long black gown and white evening gloves with her hair piled up on her head. So like this?

It sounds like she’s going for a different look, because the song she sings is “Moon River.” Dawn says she's never heard of it but you'd think since the whole BSC is obsessed with old movies and Mary Anne loves Roman Holiday, which stars Audrey Hepburn, they'd know it’s the song from Breakfast at Tiffany's!

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Needless to say, Sabrina butchers it, but she smiles a lot and the judges like her. Next, Margo takes the stage with her banana. The triplets snicker at her when she peels the banana with her feet but she ignores them and recites the poem without any mistakes and gets lots of applause. Phew. And Dawn gets another thumbs-up from Kristy. Again, what alternate universe are we in if Kristy is acting nice to Dawn?

And, just as expected, Claudia's plan of having her own pageant contestant blows up in her face when Charlotte freaks out, completely forgets the passage she's going to read, and runs offstage in tears. Charlotte's crying so hard backstage Claudia goes and gets the Johanssens to take her home and she stays at the pageant to see what happens, looking crushed. Charlotte never should have been a contestant in the first place, Claudia, you suck for humiliating her for your own personal gain!

The beauty parade is next, and it's every girl for herself. Dawn hears Margo tell Claire to break a leg, and Claire tells Margo, “I hope you fall off the stage!” Mee-yow!

Question time! Dawn tells Mary Anne she's worried and Mary Anne says she is too. I mean, she really has no reason to be, since she's coaching Myriah Perkins. Anyway, the first question a little girl gets is “What do you like best about Stoneybrook?” She says the ice cream store and everyone laughs in an “awww cute!” way.

The next girl doesn't fare well either and then we get to Myriah Perkins. She's asked what she would change about the world. Channeling John Lennon, Myriah says (and I have to quote it in its entirety): “It would be wars. I would stop them. I would say to the people who were making the wars, 'Now you stop that. You settle this problem yourselves like grown-ups. Our children want peace.' That's what I'd change.” The crowd applauds as the little peace activist exits the stage and Claire comes on.

Claire's asked what she hopes for most of all. She says, “Santa Claus. I hope he's real,” in a terrified tone. The audience laughs in the same way they did for the first girl and Dawn groans as if she's just been asked to babysit for Jenny Prezzioso. Mary Anne reassures her and says Claire probably got nervous. Karen's next and she gets the infamous “If your house was on fire, what 3 things would you rescue?” question. Kristy makes a point to say out loud that she prepared her for this.

But guess what, Kristy? You aren't the Queen of Babysitting because Karen manages to kiss the crown goodbye too. She says she'd rescue Moosie her stuffed cat (so I guess the Little House is the one burning down...nice. Save the MANSION), Tickly her blanket, and “as many toys as I could carry.” She asks if she could rescue a fourth thing and says it would either be Andrew, or her pen that writes in three colors. Lovely that she thinks of toys before she thinks of her brother. And I guess she's letting Lisa and Seth burn. I'm surprised she didn't say something like, “My parents are divorced and I live in two houses. Can I rescue six things since I'm Karen Two-Two?”

Unfortunately, Sabrina the Younger uses up the “global peace” answer before Margo can get to it. Or maybe it's a blessing in disguise, since she didn't know what it is. Either way, Margo's asked what she would most wish to happen in the year 2010 and she freezes. I guess she was nervous but terrified too because 2010? This book was written in 1988. And even then, in BSC land, that's ages away! She'd be 29 by the time the BSC got to 2010! And Claudia would probably still be wearing neon green hair scrunchies and bright purple leggings at age 35. Margo obviously doesn't want to recycle the global peace answer and her mind goes blank, so she's ushered off the stage after 30 seconds of dead air.

Dawn freaks out backstage and openly admits she wanted one of her girls to win so she could show what a good babysitter she is! We're back to this shit again?! The others admit to this too and in one of the most ironic statements ever written in a BSC book, Kristy says, “Maybe we learned something, though. Even the best babysitter can't change a kid.” Now how many times can we all name before and after this where the BSC attempted to change a “problem child” or help out a kid with a problem because their horrible parents didn't know about it? So they all agree with Kristy, don't apologize for being bitches to each other and crowd around Mary Anne because they're confident Myriah has this in the bag.

The girls all line up onstage for the announcement of the winners, which is so obvious right now, even Claudia can predict it. Third place goes to Lisa Shermer, the ballerina from earlier. She wins $50 and fades into BSC obscurity. Second place is Myriah! She shrieks with delight because she just won a shopping spree at Toy City (which I would gladly take over the grand prize). Dawn even admitted she'd like it because she could buy Kid-Kit supplies. First thought ALWAYS to the BSC, just like a good cult club member. Well, Myriah's thrilled but Mary Anne screams in agony and wails, “Why isn't she the grand winner?!?!?” and we cut away from offstage before we can all drown in the deluge of Mary Anne's tears.

First prize, no surprise here, goes to Amber Dempsey Sabrina the Younger. Time for the song! “L the losers in her wake, I the income she will make...”

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She wins $100, gets a little tiara and bouquet of roses, her mom's weeping, Dawn calls the whole thing disgusting. Little does Sabrina the Younger know that's a magical tiara that will age her 6 years so by the time book #60 rolls around, she'll be 13!

#babysitters club #little miss stoneybrook...and dawn #dawn schafer #bsc #snark

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blueishfood · 5 years

Text

Her handsome boy, Chapter 5

Pairing: Adrienette, Ninya (in the background)

Words: 1,8 k

Warning(s): Swearing,

Summary: Alya, Marinette, Nino and Adrien are seniors (18 y/o) and as Marinette, biker girl supreme, discovers Alya’s crush on the music-nerd Nino Lahiffe she starts to question if she also has a crush on a certain goody-two-shoes-boy.

A/N: So here is chapter five FINALLY. This took me way too long to write, but there’s a lot going on at school now before Christmas so I guess it makes sense… I don’t like this chapter partly because I feel like it’s too slow going but meh-

Prouloge

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

As the night slowed down, so did Marinette. Adrien realized that the bar wasn’t as bad as he had thought, and neither were the people. The bartender refused to give Marinette any alcohol, even if she asked jokingly. It was obvious to him, that they were all like family. Adrien wondered if this was what it was like this in Marinettes biological family as well. He wondered if this was how it could have been in his family.

She took his hand in hers, and Adrien put the thoughts aside. She smiled brightly at him, as if the atmosphere had filled her with light and energy. Maybe it had.

“Do you want to see my favourite place?” She asked, her eyes big and warm. Adrien smiled back at her, confused.

“I thought this was it,” he mused, cocking his head to the side. Marinette chuckled, eyes dragging over the joint.

“It is pretty close,” She answered, “But there’s somewhere even better.”

Adrien nodded, determined. “You can take me anywhere, My Lady,” He grinned, bowing down low to place a kiss on her hand. Something that proved a little difficult in a crowded bar.

Marinettes eyebrows rose, but she didn’t pull her hand back. She merely rolled her eyes and held his hand tighter.

“Let’s go then, Casanova.” She pulled him with her, out the door, on the bike and into the night.

It was amazing how much he could smell on the back of a motor bike. Street food, grass, smoke and leaves. He had never before realized that he could smell summer. Well… he could. He could smell it all, he could feel the freedom of it all. Adrien understood why Marinette loved her bike, he even wondered if maybe he should get one. If so, it would be green. Like a neon green and maybe black. Yes. That would be a nice ride.

For a second he thought of asking his father about it. But then he remembered who his father was and almost laughed. He would never agree. But what if Adrien was to suddenly have a rebellious faze in his teenage life? He could buy a bike from his dad’s golden emergency card and get piercings. Maybe he would even get a tattoo. It would be nothing like his celebrity image. Nothing like what he had worked so hard to build.

The press would have a field day and Gabriel himself would flip. It would be perfect.

Adrien was chuckling hysterically when Marinette pulled over. She stepped off the bike, pulled the helmet off her head and stared him down.

“What are you laughing at?” She demanded to know, hand on her hip. Adrien sobered up and grinned at her.

“Buying a bike and getting a tattoo,” he answered laughter not quite gone from his voice. Marinette bit her lip to hold back a smile. Her eyes raked his form and Adrien almost squirmed.

“A tattoo would suit you,” she stated before turning around and heading for the forest. Adrien followed, not entirely sure if Marinette knew where she was going.

He voiced his concern right before tripping over a twig and faceplanting. Thankfully Marinette didn’t notice, or at least she pretended not to notice. He could swear he heard her giggle. Hopefully it was his imagination.

“Don’t worry Adrien, I know this path like the back of my hand.” Marinette didn’t lie about that. The way she moved in the dark, was almost as if the path was full of light. Adrien struggled a bit to keep up, but every time he seemed to slow down, so did she.

Until they stepped into a clearing. The darkness was penetrating, and it was hard if not impossible to see anything at all. Squinting through Marinette’s phone light, Adrien caught a glimpse of something big and round. Also, maybe a metal rod? Or a giant twig? It could honestly be anything. With a few leaps, he was right behind Marinette.

“What is this place?” He asked, still trying to see their dimly lit surroundings. He could hear Marinette grinning even if he could barely see her.

“Stay here for a bit?” She ran off before Adrien could respond. A chill raced up his spine. Suddenly he realized just how cold it was, he wondered how he had missed that detail.

“Okay, very funny princess, come back.” He patted his pockets again, looking for a phone that he had intentionally left in his locker. His dad had a tracker and Adrien wasn’t exactly stupid. Or maybe that was exactly what he was?

“Mari this is getting old.” He looked around, not finding the spot of light from Marinettes phone anymore. Would she just leave him here? To be fair he didn’t really know her, in fact he’d basically just met her. But he was sure she wouldn’t do something like that. At least not to him. Right?

“Marinette if you leave me here I wil literally die. It’ll basically be murder!” Adrien didn’t dare take another step. His eyes were still not entirely used to the light and he could be walking off a cliff for all he knew.

Then light blinded him. Adrien blinked furiously for a few seconds before he could see Marinette in between the swirling dots. She was smiling, not entirely grinning but close.

“Don’t worry, handsome boy.” She winked. “Who in their right mind would leave you behind?” My dad? He locked away that thought as Marinette began to walk.

Glancing up, Adrien realized that the light was coming from a small version of a Ferris wheel. He almost gasped. Well small wasn’t exactly the word, but it wasn’t huge. Maybe the height of eight-something grown men? The light was soft and bright at the same time. The metal bars were yellow from age and the carts red as her lipstick.

His eyes drifted back to her only to realize that she was looking at him. Adrien decided her smile lit up the place more than the Ferris wheel ever could. As soon as he discovered it, the smile disappeared. Adrien quickly made it his mission to make her smile again.

“Come on, pretty boy!” He rolled his eyes at the nickname. As he followed her to the bottom of the Ferris wheel. “Are you really going to call me that?” Marinette lauhed at the question and looked at him with bright eyes.

“I’m just trying to find out what fits… And you called me Princess, so.” She shrugged, stepping up on the first metal rod. Adrien grinned.

“But you’re like a motorcycle princess!” They laughed together; Adrien figured he hadn’t had this much fun since… well since never. When he realized what Marinette was doing, he followed, careful where he stepped as they climbed the wheel.

“You’re not scared of heights?” She asked, glancing down to him and stopping for a second. Adrien shook his head; his hair wild in the wind.

“Never been,” he told her, and he swore he could see a smile in the way her mouth quirked.

“Huh, wouldn’t have seen that coming.” Marinette pulled some of her hair away from her eyes.

“Are you?” Adrien asked before he could stop himself. “Scared of heights?” He continued, curiously.

“No,” Marinette stated, turning away from him stubbornly. Adrien could see her hands shaking. He chuckled under his breath; she was surprisingly cute despite the front she put up. Adrien climbed the next few steps quickly until he was next to her. She looked at him as if he was someone she didn’t deserve. Then he rattled the step they were on.

Marinettes hands clenched around the metal so her knuckles became white. “STOP!” He continued for a little bit, grinning. “I SWEAR I’LL KILL YOU ADRIEN I’M GOING TO DIE!” She folded her arms around the metal bar she was holding, and Adrien finally stopped.

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL.” Marinette didn’t let go of the bar for another long miute. The silence were interrupted by the occasional; “We could have died.” Or “If you do that again I will push you down.” Adrien kind of doubted the last one, but didn’t say anything.

“Not scared of heights we said?” Marinette scowled at his kind of smug expression.

“Oh, shut it. Everyone has to be afraid of something.” Adrien laughed at that and reached out a hand to help her on. Marinette ignored his hand.

The top was apparently Marinette’s hide away. The tallest cart was filled with blankets and pillows, the roof was a tarp she pulled over the cart when she left. In a plastic bag in one corner was a stack of books. The roof was filled with fairy lights. According to Marinette that had been particularly hard installing. The view was beautiful, he could see all the lights in town. For a while they sat in silence.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this in an abandoned amusement park in the middle of night… With you as the only witness. But punching Chloe was probably not the right thing to do.”

Marinette closed her eyes and turned back to the view of the city. She pulled the blanket closer and sighed.

“I know.” She glanced at him and then away again. “I- I have anger issues. Well, not on paper but I can get very angry very quickly if I don’t watch out. Usually I have control but today I just…” She let the sentence hang in the air.

“Snapped,” Adrien finished for her, a light chuckle escaping him. “Sometimes I wish I could snap. But with dad and the image I… can’t.” Marinette nodded. She knew what that felt like. She felt like that before she decided to do exactly the opposite.

“Maybe you can stop me from snapping and then we can snap at each other instead sometimes.” She laughed, shaking her head at the idea. Adrien lifted his eyebrows.

“I don’t know if that would be better,” he answered, settling back in the pile of pillows with her.

“Well, at least you won’t have to deal with me, I’ll be kicked out of school for sure.” Adrien put a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad. Our school’s discipline is not a harsh one. Maybe you’ll get a call home and a mark on your resume, but it won’t be more than that.” Adrien was very certain when he said this. He probably shouldn’t have been.

Tags:

@rhi2018 @thevixentimelord @mkiahb @dont-panic-to-much @nii-facedaingeal @our-cool-jenny @miraculousbuebird @coccinellegirl @littlebluewhalen @http-mitch @sarsoora55 @legitsadness @immatureidiot101 @ribbonthewolfartist @i-dont-even-knoooww-man @bones-bones

#adrienette #ladrien #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #MLB #mlb fanfic #mlb fandom #mlb fluff #mlb au #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfiction

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ohtheseboysilove · 5 years

Text

The sunflower always finds its sunlight III [Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 3, 600 K +

Warnings : language, sad shit, angst, eating disorders, fluff

Summary : Roger likes Reader since forever but the timing seems to just never be right for them. Reader is still haunted by her past relationship and kept rejecting Roger who know nothing about the abuses she had been victim of. After being rejected for the sixth time, Roger thinks it’s time for him to move on…

Note : Back in present guys, it’s time for slow burn and awful timing...

☀ Masterlist ☀

The next three months had been hard on you after your fight with Roger. You didn’t talk to him since, you wanted to apologise so badly but you couldn’t just bring yourself to do it, he probably hated you anyway. So you distanced yourself from the band, slowly but surely, you old demons bubbling back during these long hours alone. Freddie and Mary were trying to help but you didn’t want any help and they couldn’t do much when they didn’t even know what was the problem to begin with. You were back at your old bad habits from where you were a teenager : eating disorders.

Back in high school, like a lot of girls, you started hating your body and it resulted in you skipping meals more than you should have. You went through it but these last weeks, it had slowly crawling back into your mind, Donovan’s memories where more present these days, shadowing over you, feeling like he was still here and it was destroying you. The truth was you really thought you were doing better this last year about the whole Donovan thing but even if Roger didn’t know what happened, he had been your biggest support the past three years and now...you were all by yourself, leaving you with nothing else than sleepless nights, skipped meals and endless crying.

You knew you should talk to someone but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not yet.

“I don’t know, Freddie...I’m pretty sure I am the last person Roger want to see at his birthday” You said with a tired voice, the singer had been harassing you these day to convince you to go out with them.

“Oh darling, you’re one of his best friend, of course he want to see you there ! Your little fight is becoming really ridiculous” The singer was certain than nothing could come between Roger and you, friends for life. But he didn’t know how many time you broke his band mate’s heart either so, yeah, maybe he would change his mind about it. “Come on, (Y/N). It’s a dinner for Rog, we rent his favourite restaurant for the night and invited only close friends so you have to be here, I see you at seven”

“But– asshole” The line disconnected so you hanged up and sighed deeply, you knew you had to go. If you wanted a chance to save what was left of your and Roger’s friendship, you had to.

You spent two hours finding an outfit for the night, something cute but not to tight, the last thing you wanted was that someone noticed that you lost too much weight. Especially Roger, Mary and Freddie, the only three of your friends who knew about your eating disorders. Freddie and Mary found out by your mom, who was worried after your left home so when she came visit you one day and met you friends, she told them. For Roger, well as you closest friend, he kind of guess it somewhere during you four-years relationship with Donovan, how the most subtle change in your mood could affect your appetite, after months of asking about it, you had finally tell him the truth. And that was probably one of the best decision because without him, you didn’t know how you would have ended after Donovan left.

You picked an adorable little dress and get ready, ignoring the nervous twisting in your stomach. You had no idea how Roger was going to react and you couldn’t help yourself but thought about the worst scenarios.

Few hours later you were in front of the restaurant, biting anxiously your lips. You were thirty-minutes late, thanks to the horrible traffic of London and now you could hear the loud sounds of conversation as everyone probably already arrived. Great. By only close friends, Freddie meant something like twenty peoples with their plus one and you found yourself incredibly...lonely. You entered the place and gave your name, and instead of going inside right away, you stayed in the entrance, trying to calm yourself. You had avoid everyone for weeks and suddenly you were about to appear like nothing happened ? Maybe it wasn’t a such great idea to be here.

“Where is she ?” You froze as you recognised Roger’s voice from behind the curtain, which leaded to the large dinning-room. “She is never late”

“Oh for god’ sake Rog, relax okay ? She’s coming, I talk to her earlier, she promise she would be here” You couldn’t repress a smile, the drummer wanted you here. This was a great relief, the nervous knot in your stomach turned into hundred of butterflies.

“Then where the hell is she ? I can’t have any fun at my birthday’s party if she isn’t here” You tucked a strand of hairs behind your ear, feeling blush creeping on your cheeks. You were so ready to make peace with Roger and have your best friend back...and maybe more ? The only thing you knew was that you didn’t want to lose him again.

You took a deep breath and pushed away the curtain, showing yourself to the boys with a timid but sincere smile. You locked your eyes with Roger, waiting for his big cheeky smile to paint on his face at your presence but he only knotted his brows together, looking rather surprise.

“(Y/N) ? I didn’t know Freddie invited you”

You tensed your jaw to not drop your smile right away as the reality slapped you in the face, he wasn’t talking about you earlier. The she was another girl.

“It was one of your surprise Rog !” Freddie hugged you ferociously and let an arm around your shoulder, babbling about how great it was to see out of your place.

You were glad that the singer offered some kind of support physic because you could have collapse on the ground at any second, under the weight of the humiliation. Of course he wasn’t talking about you, what were you thinking ? The blond scratched his neck awkwardly but before he could say something, the look in his eyes changed to uncomfortable to excitement about something or rather someone right behind you.

“Hi guys ! I’m so sorry I’m late ! My shooting-photo ended later than planned, sorry Roggie”

Probably one of the most beautiful woman you ever saw walked by you and pressed her perfect deep red lips on Roger’s. She was a model without a single doubt, her leg longer than half of your height, she was a bit taller than the drummer with her heels. Her tight dress was showing her thin waist, her neckline wasn’t even too large to be called groupie, no she certainly wasn’t any girl, she was Roger’s. His hands ended on his hips as they kissed for a some long seconds, sweetly and you felt completely out of your place.

“It’s okay, dove. I was waiting for you to have some fun, only boring people with wives inside anyway” He winked and you swallowed thickly, shifting uncomfortably on one foot then another, wondering if the situation could become more awkward. “Hum, so Nina this (Y/N)...an old friend of mine. (Y/N), this my girlfriend, Nina” He smiled to the leggy brunette, their hands tangled together.

“Oh, that’s nice to meet (Y/N) !” She immediately hugged you and gave you the friendliest smile possible. She did sound really nice and god she was absolutely perfect physically speaking. “I’m counting on you to show some humiliating pictures of Roggie when he was younger”

“Of course” You replied with a toothy grin but you were clenching your teeth so hardly, it was almost hurting you. “I got plenty of them, it’s endless, trust me” You laughed awkwardly but no one since to notice it, thankfully.

Freddie, Roger and Nina chatted for few more minutes as you just stood here, nodding and chuckling when it was needed, all of your body tensed with shame. You just wanted to disappear six feet under ground.

“Well, (Y/N), it was nice to see you again, I have some people to introduce to Nina. See you later” The blond smiled politely and walked away, his arm resting protectively on the brunette’s waist.

“I told you he wasn’t mad at you anymore, darling” You nodded slowly and gave a sweet smile to the singer, hoping hiding your urge to cry at this instant. “Come on, let get you a drink” Freddie rubbed your back gently, silently telling you that he knew how hurt you were but as friend with both of you, he couldn’t do much, after all, he was the one who reunited you and the blond tonight.

You learnt that Roger and Nina were together only since two months but knew each other for longer, meaning he probably hooked up with here before he start seriously dating girls. They looked like they were together for much longer, as they were close and clearly into each other, Roger’s hand was always somewhere on her body.

You were sat next to Chrissie during dinner with John at your right and it honestly felt good to see your friends, chatting about random topics and sharing some laughs. You made your best to not stare at Roger during the meal but you couldn’t resist to steal some glances in his direction. You had miss him so much and you still did, you maybe or maybe not had some romantic feelings for him but first of all he was one of your best friend, you used to hang around each other a lot and because of your stupidity it had stop. You dearly wanted your best friend back.

You didn’t eat much, your fork playing with the food to make illusion as your brain was tricking thinking that you didn’t needed that food, you were fat enough compared to Nina. It wasn’t true but your clouded mind couldn’t see it. Freddie’s eyes were looking at you a bit longer than normal sometimes during the dinner so you made sure to eat at least your dessert, forcing your knotted throat to swallow every bite of the chocolate cake.

“So (Y/N), how your romantic life’s going ?” Chrissie asked to you with a curious smile. “You’re always so secret about it since Donovan !” You hated that this asshole was still in your group’s friends, even in America he was still in touch with most of them. But what it would have changed after all ? They all thought he was a good guy, you thought that too. At the beginning.

Well, I spent the last three years trying to forget what my ex-boyfriend did to me but the traumatises are still here as rather than spoke to someone I completely shut down myself and pretended everything was fine. Then I fucked up everything with Roger because I was and still am deeply affected by these memories and now he acted like a complete stranger with me. Everything is fucking perfect Chrissie, thanks for asking.

But instead you just said “It’s pretty calm, I’m focusing on myself for now” You lied through your teeth but the answer seemed to satisfied the brunette who dropped the topic.

You had stay more than it was politely needed at this party and now you were ready to leave, not seeing the point to staying any longer. Roger and Nina had been glued to each other all night, chatting to everyone who had come and honestly you had feel out of place all evening. You had nothing new to say and it was kind of pathetic compared to your friends who were doing great in their life. Brian and Chrissie’s wedding was in few months ; Veronica and John, who were already married, were expecting their first child in five months ; Roger had a new girlfriend who was a famous model ; Even Freddie had something to tell, his favourite cat Delilah just gave birth to four cute kittens. But you...you were still at the same point since Donovan left, nothing new for you.

“You’re leaving dear ?” You internally cursed Brian to catch you as you were trying to exit discretely the party.

“Hum, yeah, got work early tomorrow” You nodded and gave him a quick hug. “Say goodbye for me to the rest okay ? There so many people, I want to leave before the sun rise” You joked with a weak voice and disappeared outside.

You wanted to say goodbye to Roger but during all the evening, every of your interactions with each other has been awkward, thing that never happened before and god you hated that. Plus, the last time you checked, Nina was sitting on his lap, both of them drinking bubbling champagne, laughing loudly. You didn’t want to ruin the mood. After asking to the receptionist to call you a taxi, you sat on a random crappy bench, quietly waiting for it.

“It not even midnight and you’re already leaving ? That never happened at one of my birthday before” You blinked surprisingly when the drummer joined you on the bench, lighting a cigarette.

“Hum, yeah, I need to wake up early tomorrow” You coughed to hide how awkward you were, finding incapable to make conversation with him. After all, the last time you and him were alone ended badly, breaking both of your hearts.

“I understand” A silent fell between the two of you, the blond smoking his cigarette as you played with the hem of your loose dress. “Thanks for the gift by the way, it was really nice” He smiled at you and blew the smoke away from you, hoping you will help him make conversation.

“You’re welcome Roger” You replied with a little smile. He was lying and he knew that you knew it too. You had offer an expensive pair of sunglasses for his birthday and it was the lamest present possible you could have give. It was impersonal and unlike you.

The two of you had a tradition for both of your birthdays to offer each other duo gift and always enjoyed it together. This tradition was born at Roger’s twentieth birthday, it was only few months after you moved in London but you were already friend so when you heard he was a big fan of Bowie, you managed to get him two tickets to see him. He was so surprise from a such nice gift that he brought you with him, giving another dimension to your friendship. After that, for your nineteenth birthday, Roger offered you two tickets for Wimbledon as he knew you loved tennis and so you invited him with you to spend the day together. And it kept going during the next years, even where you were with Donovan, he was a bit jealous but he had to deal with it anyway. You did some fun things together : Karting race – you went crazy and Roger thought you were totally suicidal – ; Vineyard tour and tasting – both of you ended drunk as you were supposed to spat the wine and not drinking it for the tasting part but none of you listened – ; The Reading Music Festival – you were high as a kite most of the night but it had been good fun – ; Cadbury world, the chocolate factory – you were still sick thinking about the amount of sweet things you ate that day – ;

The list was long and it was supposed to continue but with your shitty present today, you broke the tradition. God you were dumb and you wanted to prove to Roger you were still friends. So you chuckled gently and shook your head, earning a curious glance from the drummer.

“I’m sorry I offered you stupid sunglasses, it’s a complete ridiculous present”

“It’s not (Y/N), it’s really nice, I’m serious I love them” He tried to stay serious but when he saw the amusement glowed in your eyes, he let his lips curled into a grin. “Alright, it was rather...unexpected from you but you have your reasons. I’ve been a total asshole to you last time and I deserve these shades which make me look like a total wanker” The blond shrugged and let out a little timid laugh, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

You joined his laugh but your heart was aching at the memories and before he couldn’t understand what was going on, your arms were tightly wrapped around his neck, babbling endless apologies.

“I’m so sorry Rog, I shouldn’t have say all these horrible things to you” His hands flew on your back, rubbing it gently as you sobbed against his neck. “It was stupid and totally wrong, I know you’re a wonderful boyfriend and I was just being defensive and I’m so sorry, you’re my best friend and now you hate me–“

“Hey, hey, breath, love. I’m not mad at you, silly girl” The drummer chuckled at the funny noises escaping from your nose. “But I will if you keep soaking my brand new shirt, it’s a Battistoni, love and it was bloody expensive” You chocked out a strangle giggle and took a step back, quickly wiped your wet cheeks.

“Sorry, it’s a really nice shirt, a bit posh for you but you do look like a smartass” You joked and put back correctly his shirt collar. The drummer rolled his eyes but when he slid his hand his shirt pocket and get out a handkerchief for your teary eyes, he couldn’t repress a cheeky grin. “No, you didn’t !” You gasped at the way too posh gesture and shook your head with amusement.

“I know, I look like a douchebag but I always wanted to try it. Just like the gentlemen in these old movies ya know ? Plus, the tissue was offered with the shirt so here I am” He gave your hand a kiss, making you giggled stupidly. God you had miss this dork. After the laughs slowly died, you looked at each other without knowing what to say. Were you friends again ? Best friends ? Or the last fight went to far ? “I’m sorry too (Y/N)” Roger sighed as he scratched his shoulder, chewing at his bottom lip. “You’re not a heartless bitch, you’re probably the nicest person I know, maybe a bit too nice sometimes” He gave you a half-smile and a chuckle escaped from your lips, he wasn’t wrong, you needed to toughen a bit sometimes. “I was just a bitter asshole because you refused to go on a date with me and when I say it out loud, it sound even worse, god. Can we just forget that night ? I miss my best friend”

You nodded eagerly, tears shimmered in your eyes from the emotions. Jesus, you really needed to toughen more than a bit. Roger’s words felt a bit bitter on his tongue, you were more than a best friend for him, so much more but he promised you and himself than the sixth time you rejected was the very last. So he stayed true to his words and if the only way to have you in his life was as a friend, he will accept it.

“I missed you too Rog” You hugged him again and this time, you melted into his familiar embrace, his comforting scent floating around you. It was definitively your favourite place in the whole word. When you both pulled away, you grabbed the new pair of shades hanging on his head and threw it on the floor before stomping on it seriously. He gasped loudly at your gesture, pouting like a kid. “Please, can we forget that for your twenty-eighth birthday, I offered you stupid sunglasses ?”

“I don’t know...shitty gift it’s better than nothing” The blond smirked and looked at you curiously as you energetically looked through your bag before letting a yell of victory escaped your mouth. “What it is ?”

“Your real present” You slid a white envelop on his hands with a sweet smile. “I bought them months ago but I wasn’t sure how tonight was going to be so I had the shades in case of you still hated me” You shrugged and watched his eyes twinkled as he discovered the inside of the envelop, taking out from it two golden tickets.

“Shit, you remember ! I thought you were too drunk for that” He giggled like a kid. You had got him a ride of hot balloon for two peoples, he had confess you during one drink night how much he would love to do that but the guys had make fun of him when talked about the idea. You were pretty hammered but you certainly didn’t forget. “Thanks (Y/N), it’s awesome...we should do that sometimes in summer, the view going to be so beautiful”

“You want to do it with me ?” You squeaked like a mouse, you didn’t expect him to pick you for this...rather romantic activity.

“Of course ! We always choose each other, it’s not going to change now” He winked at you and showed a toothy grin. “What are saying ? Want to be my hot balloon date ?” He added jokingly but there was a little tension in the air after the word date. You should say no, he had a girlfriend for doing this kind of thing and after you almost lost him, you shouldn’t take anymore risk. But you couldn’t bear to see this cheeky smile, which became your favourite through the years, fall from his features.

“Yes Rog, I will come with you”

Tag list : @amy-brooklyn99 @mercurycrowley @vanitysfairr @loveandbeloved29 @luvborhap @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming@geek-and-proud @fearless2tobeme @chlobo6 @stormtrprinstilettos @mrsmazzello@neckfruit

#roger taylor x reader

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teannamon · 5 years

Text

Purple Butterfly (ML Fic) 3

(Cover art done by P00pyPetals)

↫ Chapter 2

Chapter 3 : A Beginning is Always Trivial, Right?

“Did you see that too Plagg?” Adrien asked the kwami flying out of his pocket as he started driving.

“See what? You mean the blonde stalker who followed Marinette to see if she’s really having lunch with Luka and not ignoring said stalker?” he remarked with a smirk, aiming the statement at his chosen.

Adrien grumbled, not because of Plagg’s teasing but because it was true. Instead of heading straight to the lunch interview, he spotted Marinette and decided to follow her to her “lunch date with Luka”. She didn’t say it was a date, but he assumed it might as well be.

He acted as if he was just passing by the corner when Luka noticed him and nudged Marinette beside him, most likely letting her know that he was there for some reason. She smiled and waved at him, and that’s when he headed back to his car in the parking lot.

“They were sitting so close to each other their faces are practically touching. I mean it’s possible they’re just talking about something serious but the way he looks at her, and laughs with her, talks with her so easily!” he practically yelled, venting at the kwami enjoying his cheese in peace. He remembered how Marinette would have trouble talking to him back then and it took her a year to make her talk comfortably around him (based on the few interactions they had after starting Lycée), he didn’t mind it but thinking about it now he envied Luka.

The car came to a stop as he arrived to the restaurant he was scheduled to have the lunch interview. “Tomorrow,” he muttered and Plagg stopped eating to look at him “I’ll make Marinette see a different side of me”

Adrien arrived to school earlier than usual. He wanted to see Marinette to make sure his lunch ‘date’ offer still stands. He cancelled a charity event for this and he had it all planned out.

“Excuse me, Mr. Model, but do you happen to spare a few minutes to talk to your bro?” a voice came from behind.

“Nino!” Adrien turned around and hi-fived his best friend, “What’s up dude? Sorry I couldn’t hang out as much with y-”

“Hey you don’t need to apologize everytime we see each other in person, talking online still counts as hanging out in today’s modern world” he playfully punched his shoulder, earning a chuckle from the blonde.

“Besides,” Nino continued “I heard from Alya that you’re starting to fancy a certain cute fashion designer”

Adrien felt his heart beat faster and his cheeks heat up.

“Oh, would that cute fashion designer happen to be me?” Marinette teased and Nino looked surprised to see her behind him. She laughed to see him so jumpy.

‘God, she’s so beautiful when she laughs’ Adrien thought as he looked at her.

“’Sup Mari,” Nino greeted, then moved closer to whisper “Alya told me about the date for today and I wanted to make sure it’s true”

She scoffed then whispered back, “It’s probably not a date, maybe he’s gonna ask me a favor. You don’t know”

This time it was Nino who laughed and patted Marinette on the shoulder, “Yeah keep telling yourself that. Well, see you around guys I have to meet someone before class”

“See ya” Marinette waved as their friend walked towards the library. She turned around to face Adrien, “So where should we meet for lunch?”

Hearing her ask about it made Adrien relieved and it gave him an idea. He was supposed to tell her but a better plan popped into his head.

“It’s a surprise, I’ll see you later after your class” he winked and walked past. Leaving a very confused and flustered Marinette by the school gate.

“Please read the required readings by Thursday for our activity” their professor said as he left the room. Students began scrambling out of the room as quickly as they can, obviously ready to leave. Marinette still had her handouts and tablet out so she stayed a bit to fix her things.

“Marinette? She’s over there”

“Ok, thank you”

“Wait is that Adrien Agreste, the model?”

“Omg you’re so lucky!”

“Is that his girlfriend?”

Adrien strolled in the classroom towards Marinette, fixated on her things. She dropped a page of her handout and it landed right on Adrien’s feet, to which he picked up and handed it to her.

“A-adrien? What are you doing here?” she looked up and grabbed the page from him.

“I’m here to pick you up for our lunch of course” he said with a grin like it was the most obvious thing ever.

“Thanks, but you really didn’t have to” Marinette said sheepishly while looking to her side, avoiding his gaze as she stood up.

“No, but I want to” with that he grabbed Marinette’s bag from her chair quickly before she did and he slung it over his shoulder. She gasped and tried to protest but decided to let it be. Its not everyday your crush suddenly asks you out for lunch, fetches you after class, and carries your bag, right?

They made small talk as they walked to the parking lot. They talked about trivial things like their weird professors, how some of their old classmates are doing, and general ‘how’s it going’ stuff.

Adrien opened the door to the front seat and placed her bag there, then gestured for her to get in before getting into the driver’s seat himself.

“So now will you tell me where we’re going?” she asked as he started the car. He looked at her briefly, “If I told you now it wouldn’t be surprise now would it? Besides, this will be a one-of-a-kind lunch date than yesterday”

“Yesterday?” she raised a brow.

‘Shitshitshitshit, I shouldn’t have said that’ he scolded himself and he can hear Plagg snickering from his pocket.

Meanwhile, Marinette is thinking back to what he meant by ‘yesterday’ when she heard Tikki chuckle from her bag something about Luka, then it clicked. ‘Oh he meant the lunch with Luka. It wasn’t a date though, they were sitting pretty close yesterday while eating but that was because they were discussing costume details and-wait how did he know?”

With that thought she snapped her head to face Adrien, who’s trying his hardest to appear casual about his own statement but internally kicking himself in the face for letting that slip out. He must’ve read her mind because he followed it up with, “I mean I was passing by the café as a shortcut and I saw you guys”

She pursed her lips but smiled right after, “Oh well, that makes sense. It wasn’t a date though, we were just discussing some band related stuff”

“I see, that’s nice.” He responded as the car came to a stop. Marinette looked out the window to see that they’re in front of the Agreste Mansion. It’s been a long time since she’s been here so she was easily overwhelmed. ‘Did he forget something at home?’

“Shall we go?”

“Huh?”

Adrien lead a confused Marinette around the back of his house. She never would have dreamed of having a private lunch with Adrien Agreste at his house. She’s still wondering why is he showing sudden interests now so suddenly, but she’ll figure that out later.

Right now, she would let loose and enjoy herself like her kwami always told her to do. In between saving Paris, schoolwork, and having commissions at the side she doesn’t have as much time to let loose and she decides that now is the time.

“I hope you don’t mind sitting on the ground” Adrien told her. She smiled and nodded, so he grabbed her hand gently and lead her to a beautiful backyard garden. There’s a picnic blanket placed by the shade and Adrien pulled her to sit down on the blanket.

“Can you wait here? I’ll get our food from inside, I cooked it this morning” he said as he let go of her hand.

“I didn’t know you can cook, Adrien”

He winked, “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me yet, mil-I mean, Marinette”

Second time he almost slipped but thankfully Marinette hadn’t caught wind of his antics yet. She just chuckled and said “I suppose not”

Jogging inside thru the kitchen backdoor he reached for the thermal bag he set aside on the corner. Plagg got out of his jacket and flew to his camembert stash in one of the cupboards and floated next to his chosen as he double checked the contents of the bag.

“So when will you tell her? Or are you going to keep this charade up?”

“Shut up, Plagg. I will tell her when she decides to tell Chat Noir, and this is not a charade. I’m just taking advantage of this moment to establish a closer relationship with the girl behind the mask I have loved for so long” he replied.

“I may not be a fortune teller kid, but I can tell this is going to do worse than good. Trust me, Tikki thinks that you both are mature enough to know each other’s identities but the delay is all on Marinette now”

Adrien closed the bag and slung the strap over his shoulder, “Exactly Plagg, it means that there’s something holding her back and I will make her trust me. Both as Chat Noir and Adrien”

Plagg grumbled while he went back to his pocket, “If things go wrong don’t say I didn’t tell you so”

Tikki peeked out of Marinette’s bag as soon as Adrien left to take a breather and talk. “Hey Marinette”

Marinette turned her back to the door just in case Adrien comes out unexpectedly. “Hi Tikki, are you hungry?”

The kwami shook her head no, “I just want to let you know that I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself on this date”

She blushed at the statement, “I-its not a date” she hesitated “I think”

“Well whatever it is, I feel something good is going to happen from this so make the most of it” Tikki chirped happily.

“Thanks, Tikki” she heard the door clicked and the red kwami ducked back into her bag. She turned around to see Adrien with a thermal bag walking towards her. He sat down next to her and opened the bag. The distinct smell of Bacon and Cheese hit their noses.

“Its Bacon Cheese Fusilli,” he said as he opened the small tupperware and handed it to Marinette “I made it this morning but its still pretty warm”.

“It looks so good, smells good too.” She complimented, “Thank you by the way, this was a nice change of pace from both our busy schedules and considering we didn’t hang out as much back then too”

‘Probably cause I have a hopeless crush on you that made me stutter whenever I see you’ she said to herself. By now though, she has matured past the sighing fangirl crush she has on Adrien and toned down to admiration for his kind demeanor.

He took out the forks and handed one to Marinette as he said, “Well it was nothing, Marinette. I would definitely go out of my way to impress the woman I love and if it means taking extra time out of my busy schedule it would be worth it”

‘Wait what?!’ Marinette nearly choked on her food.

Not realizing what he just said he still continued while opening up his container, “And of course, even though I already know you from the surface level I’d always wanted an opportunity to know you better as the brave, kind, and sweet Marinette Dupain-Cheng ever since I saw you”

He looked at her with a smile and it was only then he saw how flustered she looked. She wanted to say something but her brain can’t comprehend properly what Adrien just said to her, about her.

‘He likes me?! All this time?! This doesn’t make sense, where is Alya when I need her!’

And for the third time today, Adrien realized what he (unconsciously) said and tried to salvage the situation. He set down his food and sighed while scratching the back of his neck “W-well I guess the cat’s out of the bag. I was supposed to tell you after our lunch date but I guess I got carried away” he chuckled nervously.

She’s still in shocked silence.

“Marinette? Are you ok?” he cupped one hand on her cheek. Warm and soft, he mentally noted.

She finally finds the words she wanted to say, “Uhm yeah… but why now?”

His mind went back to his accidental discovery and his weird cryptic dreams, but he figured he couldn’t say those to her. Well, not yet at least.

“Let’s just say,” he rubbed circles in her cheek while moving closer to her “I’ve waited for a long time for the perfect moment and something made me realize it was now”

She parted her lips to say something when Adrien talked again, this time with a request that sounds all too familiar but she just can’t quite remember.

“May I?” he asked as his thumb ghosted over lips. He couldn’t help himself anymore, his lady is right there in front of him just like how she was in his dreams. All what’s missing is him to close the distance between their faces.

And something else, that he just remembered as they both heard a crash from the distance.

A purple butterfly.

An akuma.

↬ Chapter 4 (tba)

↬ AO3

❤ I finally have cover art for this fic *happiness noise* It’s my favorite scene from the vocaloid song that’s inspired by this fic :3

#teanammonfics #purple butterfly #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #tales of ladybug and cat noir #ladybug and chat noir #adrienette #adrien agreste #lukanette #marinette dupain cheng #marinette dupain-cheng #adrinette #teannamonfics

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pocminiseries · 5 years

Text

3 A.M.

US.

"Alina Baraz-Coming To My Senses"

♦️

•••••

When the "accident" happened, Kiana was only twelve years old.

It was a day that plagued her dreams and the reason why she woke up every night at 3 A.M.

The specific time she remembered waking up when smoke began to fill her nose. She recalled calling out for her parents and hurriedly getting out of bed to go find them when they did not answer. The feeling of her lungs burning as she coughed harshly, avoiding the flames that slowly spread throughout the house. The panic that overcame her when she saw no way out.

But most of all the fear that engulfed her when she found her parents dead in the living room.

The very images Kiana could never erase from her mind no matter how hard she tried.

After finding her parents, things became dark. She woke up in a hospital bed with no idea of how she even had gotten there. The only info she received was from a police officer who informed of that she was found outside in her front yard unconscious and that her parents were dead.

And that's as far as the case went before they ruled what happened as an accidental fire.

What made things worse was that Kiana didn't remember much of what happened before then either. Her childhood memories were scattered all over the place, and of course, her doctors said it was probably due to the fact she inhaled a lot of smoke. But Kiana always felt like there was just something off about that and the whole situation with her parents.

She was positive that even through all the smoke and flames that she saw blood where her parents laid out in the living room, that wasn't from the cause of the fire.

The whole ordeal has followed her ever since then. It wasn't until a few years ago when she began seeing the face of a boy she didn't recognize. He would always seem to pop up right before she awoke saying something she has yet to fully understand. His lips would move but no sound could be heard.

She assumed that he had to be some guardian angel or maybe someone from her childhood. Whoever he was, he was always by her side as she laid on the freshly cut grass of her front yard as her house burned down.

Maybe he was the one who pulled her away to safety.

It was a mystery, just like her parent's deaths that she felt as though would never be solved.

_________

"We need to talk."

Kiana's eyebrows furrowed taking in the trio that sat next to her unexpectedly. Her eyes connected with Ji-soo's for a second before finding Taehyung's once more. "About what?"

The last time they had a conversation, his fingers were working their magic in between her thighs in a matter of a few minutes. She still couldn't believe how she managed to let something like that happen, it wasn't like her at all. Just the thought alone made her body respond and her cheeks grew hot.

"Us."

She looked at him confused. "What?"

"What he meant to say was, why are you out so late?" Ji-soo quickly interrupted whatever Tae was going to say and completely ignored the look he gave him.

Kiana watched them before clearing her throat. "I couldn't sleep." She said slowly, glancing at Taehyung before focusing on her plate. Thankfully her appetite was still intact because she would've hated wasting good food. "You three look as though you're about to commit a crime." She commented, cutting into her waffle after looking over their choice of clothing.

Just then Joo-hyuk coughed violently as Ji-soo patted his back roughly. "Ok, ok, I'm fine. No need to beat on me like I'm a stepchild you hate." Joo-hyuk scowled, swatting Ji-soo's hands away from him.

"Why are you so dramatic?"

"Why are you so childish?"

"Why are you so abusive?"

"Why are you so weak?"

Kiana listened to them argue back and forth in a language she didn't understand. Her gaze shifted towards Tae who sat there rubbing his temples with his eyes closed. "Are they always like this?"

"Sadly."

She laughed a bit, taking another bite of her food, letting out a slight moan from how delicious everything tasted. Taehyung had grown stiff in more ways than one from hearing that familiar sound that he had at one point caused her to make.

"You want some?" She offered him, holding a piece of her waffle at the end of her fork.

He slowly opened his mouth and allowed her to feed him the sweet dough that was surprisingly good. Kiana smiled as he ate, taking notice that even his chewing face was beautiful. She almost wanted to reach out and brush away his long bangs from his eyes.

How was it fair that he was so....perfect?

She was actually trying to point out a flaw but failed to find any.

"Want more?"

He lightly shook his head. "No, you finish eating. I don't really have much of an appetite."

"Which is why we're making you eat something," Joo-hyuk commented, waving his hands for Marie to take their order.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, turning him out and focusing his attention back on Kiana who had a bit of syrup smeared on the side of the mouth. Not bothering to tell her, he took his thumb and wiped it off, licking it clean. She brushed his actions off as nothing and continued to eat, almost cleaning the complete plate.

At this point, she wasn't really bothered by him or his ways. There was something about him that she could quite pinpoint just yet. Had any other man did that she probably would've gotten up and moved as far away as she could. But once again she allowed Taehyung to touch her once more with no real protest.

"How have you been sleeping?" He asked suddenly.

Kiana glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she took a sip of her soda. "Still the same." By now she was used to it. She figured if she ever wanted to get an actual full night to rest she'd have to be dead to achieve it.

Or Taehyung's skillful fingers.

He watched the slight red tint form on her cheeks curiously. "If you need me to help you relax again, all you have to do is ask." At this, she shied away looking in the other direction completely.

"That was a mistake." She whispered, feeling ashamed but turned on all over again at what she let him do to her.

"There's nothing wrong with being pleasured, Kiana." He told her. "Nor is it allowing me to do it again. Especially if it helps you in the end." If she thought he thinks anything less of her because of what happened, then she couldn't have been more wrong. He never labeled her as being easy.

He was just well aware of what she needed.

Feeling his finger brush up her neck, a shiver ran up her spine from his touch. "Stop it." She said weakly but didn't bother to move away from.

"Is that what you really want?" She hated the way his voice affected her. It was the type of sound she could fall asleep listening to.

But what she would give to hear him moa-...she really needed to stop while she was ahead.

Instead of answering him, she placed a twenty dollar bill on the counter. "Have a goodnight Marie." She waved bye to the woman and quickly hopped from her sweat and practically power walked towards the door.

Taehyung smiled to himself and looked towards his friends. They immediately nodded their heads, already knowing what he was asking without having to verbally speak. Ji-soo occupied Marie, while Taehyung and Joo-hyuk followed closely behind Kiana into the parking lot as she was unlocking her car door.

Hearing footsteps from behind her, she looked over her shoulder seeing the two men casually making their way towards her direction. "What?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Taehyung looked down at her, noticing just how tiny she actually was compared to him and Joo-hyuk. "You run from me as if you're scared of me."

"I'm not." She answered truthfully. Even now being in a darkened parking lot alone with two men, she didn't fear for her life. "But what I don't understand is what you want from me."

What he wanted was everything.

"We." He corrected her.

"What are you talking about?" She asked confused once more by his choice of words.

Taehyung simply nodded his head, telling Joo-hyuk to make his move. Kiana watched the man slowly walk behind her, his hard chest hitting her back, just as Taehyung did the same and stood in front of her. "You mean what do we want from you, Kiana."

Before she could question him, a gasp escaped past her lips feeling Joo-hyuk's mouth attached to her neck as his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place. Taehyung took this as his cue and kissed up her jawline, placing small teasing pecks on her cheeks. Joo-hyuk sucked on her skin, marking her moan out loud which was immediately silenced by Taehyung's lips connecting with her own.

He didn't think that he could ever get tired of how soft the plump flesh felt.

Her small hands gripped at his shirt, surprising even herself by kissing him back. Her body was set a blazed, allowing the two men to take control. Her knees buckled feeling Joo-hyuk's tongue slid over her spot, sending a wave of pleasure straight between her thighs. His fingers teased with the waistband of her sweatpants, slightly pushing his fingers inside of the material.

Smiling, Taehyung teasingly licked her bottom lip, pulling it softly with his teeth. "Could you handle what we want from you? Whatever you need we can give it to you if you let us."

Both men shared a look before abruptly pulling away from her. Kiana stood there in a daze at what just happened. Her hormones were all over the place. She had to stop herself from whining at the absence of them.

"We'll be seeing you again," Taehyung told her, giving her a smirk that made her come to her senses.

"Goodnight Kiana." Joo-hyuk bowed slightly, winking as both men left her standing there. She blinked, watching their retreating forms go back into the restaurant as if nothing happened, leaving her horny and very much needy.

Sighing loudly, she almost wanted to slap herself. "What the hell is wrong with me?" She whispered.

What type of spell had these men placed on her?

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kegofglory · 5 years

Text

Sea Meets Earth (1/1)

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Pairing: Killian Jones/Emma Swan

Summary: Modern Neighbors Au.

She presses her lips together into a hard line, trying to figure out why she’s intrigued by this man, her new neighbor. There’s the obvious--he’s incredibly attractive, even at six in the morning in sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There’s the fact that she knows he’s an incredible support to her brother and sister-in-law. But mostly, she thinks, it might be that there’s something eerily familiar in his eyes. She can’t really explain it, but she feels a weird sense of understanding when they look at each other.

AO3

---///---

Killian’s knowledge of Emma Swan is incredibly limited. In fact, he knows four things about her.

1. She’s David’s younger sister. 2. She’s a pastry chef. 3. She lives in Boston--or at least, she did live in Boston. 4. She has an eleven-year-old son, Henry.

That’s it. After six years of friendship with David Nolan, and four years of being partners, those are the only facts that he’s collected about her.

He also knows that David loves her deeply and fully, and that he’s crazy protective of her.

That’s what gets him to even mention the soon to be vacant apartment above him in his nice duplex in New York City. Finding real estate in the city is no joke, and he’s only lucky enough to be close friends with his landlord, Nemo.

“So, my upstairs neighbor is moving out in two weeks if you’re still worried about your sister finding a place in the city,” Killian says from his side of the patrol car.

David raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I’m not lying, mate,” Killian says.

His partner rolls his eyes. “Has Nemo rented it out yet?”

“No, I mentioned it to him and he said to give you his number to pass along to Emma. It’s a two bedroom one bath, and he’s cheap in terms of New York prices.”

David nods, “Thanks man. I’ll let her know.”

“So, what brings your mysterious sister to the city?” he asks.

Beside him, David’s entire body goes tense. Killian remains silent, allowing his friend some time to respond, if he even wants to. “She just needs to be closer to us, ya know?”

Killian nods. David has always reminded him a lot of Liam. Sometimes, it’s hard, but sometimes, it’s comforting to have someone like Liam in his life. When he’s feeling particularly sentimental, he thinks that Liam sent David his way on purpose.

“Sure. Well, I’ll text his number to you and she can check it out, I guess.”

---///--- “And we have to go to the library, the one on 5th! Mom, it is so cool, and you can probably find all the fairytale books you like there.”

Emma stares down at her son, who is rambling despite the fact that he’s struggling to get a few boxes out of the U-haul.

“Sure, kid. What do you say we at least get these boxes inside first, though?” she says, unable to fight the affectionate laughter bubbling up in her chest.

“Uncle David said we have to go to the Hall of Science. It sounds sooo cool,” he’s still going on, and Emma rolls her eyes.

“Kid, relax. We’re going to have time to do all the things, okay?” she says. “Listen, David and Mary Margaret are on their way here, and they’re going to help us with some of Uncle David’s coworkers so we can get this done fast.”

Henry grunts. “I just want us to do it all before we go again.”

Emma stops in her tracks, turning to stare at her son. He looks up at her guiltily.

“Hey, Henry. Put that box down, come here,” she mumbles, grabbing his hand and leading him to their new front porch steps. Thankfully, according to her brother, their new downstairs neighbor is apparently out of town, so she doesn’t have to worry about bothering him as they noisily move everything into the upstairs unit.

“I didn’t mean it,” Henry mutters, sitting down beside her.

“It’s okay if you did. I know I’ve moved us around a bit too much in the past,” Emma says, rubbing her lips together as her son nods sadly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Mom, it’s fine. This is only our third move,” he says, sounding way too adult, as always. “I know it’s because you needed to do it.”

Emma squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head. “We’re here to stay. We’re not going anywhere for awhile, so I hope you like it here.”

He smiles. “I’m going to love it if you do, mom,” he says.

That’s really all it takes for tears to prick at the corners of her eyes. She sighs, leaning over and kissing the top of his head. “I love you, kid.”

He smiles, and like clockwork, David pulls into her drive with his wife and two large men from work.

She approaches his truck, watching the strangers pile out. “Hi guys. I’m Emma and I’m also eternally grateful you’re all here to help. I’ve supplied all the pizza and all the beer upstairs in the fridge.”

The tall man laughs, stretching his hand out to her. “It’s no worries. I’m Robin, and this is Jefferson,” he says.

She shakes both of their hands, smiling kindly as they head toward the u-haul.

David is about to wrap his sister into a hug but is interrupted when Mary Margaret practically pushes him into the bushes, running to wrap Emma into a tight hug.

“It’s so good to finally have you here,” her sister-in-law cries into her ear.

There’s something that is so consistently warm and welcoming about Mary Margaret that makes Emma feel at home for the first time since arriving to this bustling city.

David groans, “Let’s get unpacking, girls. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can take Emma and Henry to Granny’s.”

At this, Henry perks up visibly, well aware of the diner that they go to every time Henry and Emma visit. “Do they still have those onion rings?”

“Of course they do,” David says, chuckling as he leads the way to the truck.

And Emma finds that, throughout the day, her stomach begins to hurt less and less. Maybe she is home, at least for awhile.

---///---

Killian has lived in the same duplex for eight years, and he’s never had much of a relationship with the tenants that have lived above him. There are instances where he sees them, of course. He has a beautiful front porch, where both of their entry doors are located, and the tenants upstairs get a lovely balcony right above his porch.

He figures it will probably be the same with Emma and her boy.

The first night he gets back from his trip, it’s late and he can see the light upstairs shining through the window, along with a yellow bug sitting on the street in front of the house. Killian laughs when he sees the car and shrugs, entering his apartment and heading straight to bed.

Any Sunday morning that Killian is lucky enough to have off, he sticks to the same routine. He wakes up as early as he can and enjoys the sunrise sitting on his porch swing with a cup of coffee. He’s done it for as long as he can remember. Even as a child, Liam would wake him up and take him outside, where they’d sit in the grass and watch in silence.

After his trip to go visit Elsa this past week, he finds his mind wandering to a dark, sad place a little more often than usual. Elsa was Liam’s best friend, his soulmate, and he tries to make an effort to go see her at least once a month.

His heart hurts, though, when he leaves. She always wants to revel in the memories of Liam. His kindness, his loyalty, his morals. It’s nice, because she’s the only person on this planet that loved Liam as much as he did. At the same time, it forces a lot of thoughts to the front and center of his brain,

Like how his brother practically raised him while his alcoholic father did absolutely nothing, or how it was always their dream to one day go back home to London and visit all the places their mother wrote about in her old journals.

Or how he knows that Liam would want more for Killian than what he settles for now.

An unfamiliar voice pulls him from this dangerous road, though. “Mom! Mary Margaret called me and asked why you’re ignoring her texts,” a young voice calls. Killian looks up. They must be on the balcony. If he stood up and walked forward a few feet, he’d be able to see. But, that would be creepy, so he stays seated.

A feminine laugh sounds, and he raises an eyebrow out of instinct.

“I didn’t consider that moving to New York meant I’d be even closer to the two most controlling people I’ve ever met,” she says. Her son laughs in response.

“Should I tell her what we’re doing today?” he asks.

“No, kid. It’s our day. Just tell her we’re busy,” she says, and she sounds a little guilty.

“Good, because we can just meet them later anyways. We should go explore on our own. But mom--”

“Henry,” she cuts him off, chuckling. “If you tell me the hall of science opens at ten one more time, I’m going to go back to sleep until noon just to spite you.”

Killian can’t help the small smile that fights its way onto his face. The domestic familiarity between the two makes his heart swell.

“It’s nine, mom! What if there’s traffic? What if there’s a line to get in?”

He hears footsteps above him. “Okay, okay. I’m jumping in the shower. We will leave in twenty minutes. Can you go, like, complain about being up early on a Sunday or something like a normal kid?”

“Normal? But you’re the one that raised me this way,” Henry jokes and then their voices grow quieter. And Killian wonders for the first time what Emma Swan’s story is.

David keeps his stories about her close to his chest. He can see the love and pride in his eyes every time he brings his sister up, but he never shares many details. And Killian never pushes, because that’s how their friendship has always worked. David has returned the favor tenfold, allowing him to talk about his childhood only as much as he felt comfortable.

It’s a half hour later when Killian almost done with his coffee and the front door swings open to reveal a young boy with brown hair and a blue backpack on his shoulders. “Mom!” he calls up the stairs before turning and noticing Killian.

“Oh, hello! Sorry for shouting,” he says and Killian laughs.

“It’s quite alright, lad,” he says, standing up and approaching the young boy. “I’m Killian Jones. I’m guessing you’re Henry?”

Henry grins. “You’re Uncle David’s partner?” he asks, reaching forward to shake his hand. The manners in the young boy remind him of David. Or Liam.

“Yes, that I am,” he replies, shaking the young boy’s hand. “How are you liking the city?”

Henry shrugs. “It’s pretty cool, but we haven’t had a chance to do anything other any unpack and organize. Mom and I are sneaking out into the city today.”

“Sneaking out?” he asks.

Henry nods, fiddling with the straps of his backpack. “Uncle David and Aunt Snow said that on our first free day they want to take us on a tour,” he says.

“First of all,” he ticks off one finger. “Aunt Snow?”

Henry chuckles, and his nose scrunches up. “My mom always calls her Snow White… you know… because she’s kind of like a nice princess,” he explains.

Killian barks a laugh at this. “Very fitting. And two, do you guys not want to go on a tour?”

Henry looks around nervously, like he’s sharing a top secret. “My mom and I like to do things on our own, sometimes. Every time we move somewhere or go on a vacation, we take the first day just us to explore whatever we want. No itinerary. We don’t want to hurt Aunt Snow or Uncle David’s feelings so we’re keeping it a secret.”

Henry’s face is bright as he explains this tradition to Killian, and it brings a genuine smile to his face. It’s obvious that Emma is this boy’s hero.

“Sounds like a good tradition to uphold,” Killian says.

Before Henry can respond, though, the door swings open again to reveal a blonde, her fingers wrapped tightly around a black thermos full of what he only assumes is coffee.

She looks at her son, then her green eyes land on Killian, and he has to physically take a step back at the intensity in her gaze.

She smiles tightly, turning to Henry and handing him the thermos, her hair falling around her in waves. “You have extra cinnamon in your backpack, right?”

He nods. “Of course.”

She turns back to Killian, and her smile is a little more open now, though her eyes are still electric and curious.

“Mom, this is Killian, Uncle David’s partner,” he says, clearly unaware of the effect that his mother is having on his ability to speak or even breathe.

“I’m Emma Swan. I’ve heard tons about you,” she says, extending her hand forward.

He clears his throat. “That can’t be good,” he jokes.

She laughs, and it’s beautiful. He wants to hear it again.

“Please, it’s David. He has a hard time finding a bad thing to say about anyone. I’ve only heard good things.”

He smiles, trying to think of anything to say. For some reason, he knows the charm and bravado he normally relies on won’t work with her.

Before he can even formulate a response, she turns and locks her front door. “Well, we’re off. See ya around,” she says.

Henry grins. “Bye Killian!”

“Bye, lad. See you around, Swan,” he says, the words falling off his lips before he can think about it. She whips her head around to look at him, wonder in her eyes, before she nods and leads her son to her little yellow car.

It’s not until they speed off that Killian can even out his breathing again. He swallows hard, shaking his head. Fuck. He doesn’t need this kind of distraction right now.

---///---

A week goes by without Emma seeing Killian, and she thinks that’s probably for the best. She had to make a conscious effort not to think about him on her entire day with Henry last weekend. Something about his eyes, his smile, his… something, got under her skin. In a wonderful, terrifying way.

It’s the following Sunday that she sees him again. She opens her door to leave at 5:45 in the morning when he makes his presence known.

“Good morning, Swan,” he says, and she jumps, letting out an embarrassing yelp. She turns to see him sitting on his porch swing.

“Fuck,” she mutters, placing her hand over her racing heart. “You scared me.”

“My apologies,” he says, though he’s wearing an amused smile. “I’m just surprised you’re up so early.”

She laughs, leaning against the wood pillar and she takes a sip from her coffee cup. “I work in a bakery, Jones, so this is a normal hour for me.”

His eyes brighten when she sarcastically calls him by his last name. He stands, and she watches the swing move back and forth as he steps into her space. She doesn’t step back though, just looks up at him knowingly.

“Oh yes, you’re a pastry chef. Tell me, what’s your specialty?” he asks, raising a suggestive eyebrow. She can feel his breath on her face.

She smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asks, surprising herself when she holds his gaze.

“Perhaps I would,” he returns, and her whole body warms at the way he looks at her.

“If you hear a child screaming violently, it’s most likely my son playing video games, just so you know,” she says, changing the subject to something safe.

He laughs at this. “Good to know.”

“Don’t worry, though. David and Snow are coming to get him at nine for breakfast,” she says.

He shakes his head. “I’m not worried.” He dips his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers, and she has to force herself to breathe normally.

She clears her throat. “I’d better go. Have a good day,” she says.

“I’d say it’s off to a pretty great start, love,” he says.

She rolls her eyes, turning around before he can see the smile on her face.

---///---

Killian is pacing a hole into his floor at nine when there’s a knock at his door. He sighs, swinging the door open to reveal David, Mary Margaret and Henry all smiling brightly at him.

Jesus Christ.

“Hello,” he drawls out awkwardly.

Mary Margaret giggles. “We’re going to go get breakfast. Would you like to join?”

Killian raises an eyebrow. His only plan for the day was to sit in his apartment and wonder why he has no control over his actions when Emma’s around. This seems like a better alternative.

“Sure,” he says, slipping some shoes on. “Where to?”

“Grannys, of course!” Henry practically cheers. “And we’re going to surprise my mom and bring her some hot chocolate.”

Killian stops in his tracks, suddenly unsure if he should join. David looks at Killian suspiciously and he can even feel Mary Margaret’s curious eyes on him.

“Alright, let’s go,” he says breezily before anyone can question him

Henry grins. “Awesome! Have you been to Granny’s, Killian?”

The entire walk to Granny’s is filled with mindless chatter, mostly on Henry’s part, and he can’t help but notice the looks that Mary Margaret and David keep exchanging.

“I hate when you guys do that,” Killian says suddenly, staring at his best friend.

David feigns confusion. “Do what?”

“Have conversations with each other without speaking,” he mumbles.

Henry laughs loudly at this. “You guys do actually do that. It’s really weird,” he agrees.

Killian looks at the married couple, pointing at Henry as if that’s proof enough.

“Whatever, Henry. Don’t act like you and your mother don’t have a second language of your own. Half the time, I need a translator just to keep up,” David replies, laughing.

“At least we actually talk, though,” Henry counters. “You guys don’t even say words… just stare at each other.”

Mary Margaret scoffs, glaring at Killian. “Do you see what you’ve started!?”

He laughs fully, shaking his head as he enters Granny’s.

The lunch carries on like that. The conversation is easy and Henry’s kindness and intelligence continues to shock him.

Henry happily leaves with the to go hot chocolate in his hands. “Come on, Killian. My mom’s work is only a block away,” Henry calls, running to catch up to Mary Margaret and David, who are holding hands and giggling together a few feet ahead of them.

Killian starts to get nervous, though. He already feels like a fool when he sees Emma at their house. He knows the moment David sees Killian look at Emma, he’ll know what’s going on.

Henry swings the door open, and Killian looks up at the sign. Blackbird Baking Co.

The bell on the door chimes, and Emma looks up, her face brightening obviously when she sees her family. She grins, wiping her hands on her red apron.

“Hi guys. Couldn’t handle one morning without me?” she asks before her eyes land on Killian. Her mouth opens slightly, surprise crossing her face for a millisecond before she schools her features.

“We brought you hot chocolate with cinnamon,” Henry says proudly, and Emma’s face changes suddenly.

It takes Killian by surprise, the way every single part of her softens when she engages with her son. She smiles, taking the cup from him and shooting him a wink.

“Best kid in the world,” she says.

“Hey, I paid for it,” David calls out defensively, and Emma rolls her eyes.

“Best brother in the world,” she deadpans. “I see you guys have dragged my neighbor out with you today,” she nods at Killian, who’s still standing a bit behind the other three.

“It’s so nice that the two people we love most in this city live in the same house. Makes life so much easier,” Mary Margaret says.

Emma laughs, walking around the counter and wrapping an arm around Henry.

“So, I was thinking…” Mary Margaret starts nervously, and Emma smirks.

“Yes?” she asks knowingly.

“I was thinking we could have a housewarming party? We’ll plan it on a night that Killian’s off, so we don’t have to worry about disturbing him with the noise, and so that he can be there, of course! And we can invite all of our friends so you can get to know them.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I should be surprised it took you this long to suggest such a thing.”

David chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of Mary Margaret’s head affectionately. “I had to really compromise with her on this. She wanted to do it the night you arrived.”

Even Killian laughs at this, and Emma’s eyes dart to him. He smiles kindly, trying to keep his eyes from lingering on her for too long.

“I don’t think I stand much a chance stopping you so okay, Snow. Just… try to keep it lowkey,” she says, dragging her eyes back to Mary Margaret.

“I can be lowkey,” Mary Margaret counters, looking at her husband, who is smirking.

“Sure, honey,” he agrees sarcastically and Henry laughs loudly.

“Well, I think it sounds nice. Mom, you need some friends in your life.”

Emma’s jaw drops, turning to glare playfully at her son. “I have friends!”

She rolls her eyes when Killian, David, and Mary Margaret all begin laughing at the exchange.

“These two don’t count, they’re family,” he says, jabbing his thumb toward his aunt and uncle. “And I don’t count either.”

Emma presses her lips together and motions toward Killian. “He’s my friend.”

“Really?” Henry asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Doubtful. I’m pretty sure I’ve spent more time with him than you have, mom.”

Killian can’t help but raise his eyebrows at Emma when she glances over at him. “The lad’s got a point, Swan. When are you going to come downstairs and hang out with me. I can play video games, too,” he says, and although his voice is teasing, David’s head whips toward Killian immediately.

“You’ve never invited me, Jones. Next time Henry and I have a Super Mario showdown, though, we’ll yell for you.”

He grins widely at her. “I’d be honored to join.”

Mary Margaret giggles lightly, and he doesn’t miss the knowing look she shoots Emma. Or the way Emma shoots a glare back.

Okay, so maybe the silent conversation thing is more of a Mary Margaret thing.

“We’ll let you get back to work, Em,” David says finally. “We’ll see you later though.”

“Thanks for feeding my child, guys,” she says.

“I can fend for myself, you know,” Henry cuts in. “I’m eleven.”

Emma just rolls her eyes, her free hand landing on her son’s shoulder. “You’re practically an adult. See you this afternoon, kid.”

“Are you going to bring home any extra pastries?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows as he looks at the brownies in the display case behind her.

She rolls her eyes. “Goodbye, guys,” she calls and they all turn to leave.

And try as he might, Killian still turns around to get another look at her, and to his surprise, she’s watching him as well.

“See ya later, friend,” he says, and her eyes widen, shaking her head.

“Goodbye, Jones.”

---///---

“So, how is it living under my sister and nephew?” David asks the next day when they are finishing up paperwork at the end of their shift.

Killian shrugs. “Fine. I don’t see much of them, really,” he says quickly, refusing to meet his best friend’s eyes.

“Yeah, that makes sense. You know, you and Emma are eerily similar. I never really thought about it before.”

“Oh, are we?” Killian asks. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

David laughs, and Killian realizes he has said too much. “And why is that?”

Killian rolls his eyes. He’s not in the mood to be psychoanalyzed by his best friend. “I just don’t see it, is all.”

David hums. “Okay. Sure. Just, be careful,” he says.

Killian raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t push. He wants this conversation to end yesterday.

David leans back in his chair, the squeaking cutting through the tension. “Killian,” he says quietly.

Finally, Killian looks up. When he meets his friend’s eyes, though, he’s surprised to see genuine sincerity etched into his features. “What is it, mate?” Killian asks, swallowing the lump in his throat.

There’s so much love in David’s heart, and he’s always wondered what David even saw in him. When Killian met David, he was in the worst place of his life. It was right after his brother had died. Killian and David met at the precinct on Killian’s first day, which was a month after Liam’s death. He was a right prick at the time, spending every day off hiding in his bedroom and drinking himself to sleep.

David didn’t even know what was going on, but he just seemed to sense that Killian needed someone. So he continuously invited him over for dinner with his wife. Killian declined every time, honestly getting annoyed that the man would not let up.

Then, one day, after a particularly rough shift, David walked up to him and told him they were going to the bar. Seeing as that was much more Killian’s speed, he agreed. David was terrible at holding his liquor, and Killian got plastered as well. Mary Margaret came to pick them up at closing time, and she basically tucked him into bed in their guest room.

The next morning, nursing a hangover, David stood in front of him and said something that Killian will never forget. He said, “I know there’s a lot of good in you. Sometimes, the darkness seems insurmountable, but it’s not. You are better than this, and I’m going to keep harassing you and trying to help you no matter how mad it makes you, Killian.”

Then Mary Margaret made him breakfast and coffee and when he left she hugged him so tightly. He didn’t even know a hug could carry so much emotion.

The rest was history. They basically took him in as their adopted child and he wouldn’t change a thing about it.

When it came to Emma, David always seemed to get that same look in his eyes that he had when he lectured Killian that morning.

David sighs, pulling Killian from his thoughts. “She can use a friend like you,” he says, his words measured.

Killian nods gravely, and David nods before he looks away and changes the subject to a case they’re working on.

---///---

Emma’s leaning against the ledge of her balcony when she spots Killian walking up the sidewalk. She ignores the ridiculous way her stomach lurches, and before she can control it, she’s calling his name. He looks up and smiles so brightly it almost blinds her, even with the distance and the darkness surrounding him.

“How are you still up, Swan? Don’t you work at the crack of dawn?” he calls, stopping in the grass and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I have a hard time sleeping,” she admits. “Are you just getting off work?” she asks.

He nods. “Yeah. David and I had to work the once a month 10am to 10pm today.”

“Yuck,” she says. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

For some reason, Emma doesn’t want to let this conversation to die. She feels so much safer with the distance between them, like she can let her guard down and just chat as herself.

He seems to sense this, smiling softly at her. “I also have a hard time sleeping, so it’ll be awhile before I finally fall asleep.”

She nods, looking up at the moon for a minute when she can’t find anything to say.

“So, love, what’s on your mind this evening?” he asks, and she sighs.

“Just thinking about Henry,” she replies honestly. He raises an eyebrow at her in surprise, waiting for her to elaborate. “He’s just so grown up… sometimes, it makes me sad.”

“How so?” he questions, his voice free of any judgement.

Emma leans forward more, trying to get a better look at his face. He’s so beautiful. She’s never described and grown man as beautiful, but looking at him, it’s all she can think.

“I hope he didn’t feel the need to grow up too fast, you know? He deserves a chance to just be a kid,” she explains.

He nods slowly. “I don’t know the lad that well, but if you want my opinion, I’d say that Henry is just a smart, mature kid. I don’t think it’s due to some emotional trauma. He seems like he gets a lot of his qualities from you.”

She scoffs. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

He shakes his head, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. “Trust me, love. It’s not a bad thing.”

She smiles despite herself. “Thanks,,” she says so softly that she’d assume he couldn’t hear her if it weren’t for the next words out of his mouth.

“No worries. Would you like to come down and sit on the porch or should we continue this Romeo & Juliet scenario here?” he asks, and even she can hear the nerves in his voice.

And she wants to say sure.

Yes.

That’s what normal people do.

He watches her carefully as she thinks to herself. “I should probably try to get some sleep, but raincheck,” she says.

And all she can think is she’s such a chicken. He nods, looking a little disappointed.

“Sweet dreams, Swan,” he calls before walking toward the house and out of her view.

“Fuck,” she mutters to herself before heading inside and she definitely does not have sweet dreams about the man living below her.

---///---

It takes Mary Margaret only three days to plan and organize Emma’s housewarming party. She sends David and Killian out to pick up ice, because according to Mary Margaret, there’s no such thing as too much ice. They dropped Henry off at a new friends house on the way, which is giving Emma enough anxiety to last her the rest of the night.

In the meantime, Emma helps her sister-in-law set up. And by help, she means does exactly as instructed.

“So,” Mary Margaret starts, trailing off.

Emma knows that voice well. She has heard it about a hundred times in her life. Mary Margaret came into their lives when Emma was sixteen, and they’ve always been able to read each other.

“What is it, Snow?” she asks.

“I was just thinking,” she starts, keeping her focus on the cheese tray she’s assembling, “You know, Killian is a really good guy.”

“Oh shit,” Emma says immediately. “This was bound to happen, I guess.”

Mary Margaret snorts. “I’m just saying. He’s cute, and he’s nice, and Henry seems to like him.”

“So, should we get married tomorrow then?” Emma asks sarcastically, pulling a beer out of the fridge even though they still have two hours before the party begins.

“In my ideal world, sure,” Mary Margaret teases. “Seriously, Em, I’m just saying. We love Killian and I happen to think you are at least a little intrigued.”

“I don’t know what gives you that idea,” Emma mutters, taking a long swig from her beer as she avoids eye contact with her sister-in-law.

“I saw the weird way you looked at him when we came to the bakery the other day. It was… different. I’ve never seen your eyes look like that before.”

Emma clears her throat, shaking her head. Thankfully, the boys choose the perfect moment to return home. “Thank God,” Emma mumbles, much to Mary Margaret’s chagrin.

“Okay,” David says as soon she he opens her door. “So when Killian and I were trying to do a shot of rum earlier we were sent out of the house to keep out of trouble, but Emma can start drinking beer at six?” he asks.

Killian laughs, walking into the house and smiling. “It’s nice up here, Swan,” he says, eyeing the picture frames on her mantle. She feels exposed, the way he stares at her family photos with obvious interest.

“Thanks,” she says breezily. “And it’s my party, so I say we all start drinking now,” she says.

David grins, setting the ice into the kooler before placing a quick kiss on Emma’s cheek. “What a good host you are,” he says.

Mary Margaret groans. “Actually, Emma. You’ve never had the displeasure of seeing these two when they drink together. It’s in everyone best interest that they hold off.”

Emma barks out a laugh at that. “Okay, that’s something I want to see. Last time I drank with David was, like, four years ago,” she says before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Remember, David! You fell asleep on my porch and my neighbor called the cops because they thought you were homeless.”

Killian’s eyebrows immediately shoot skyward, and even Mary Margaret giggles.

“It was your birthday and we were supposed to take you out on the town,” Mary Margaret reminisces.

“We didn’t even make it out of my apartment thanks to David,” she says between her laughter. She glances over at Killian to see him watching her with a new look in his eyes.

What is that? Curiosity? Surprise? She can’t quite tell.

“He is quite the lightweight,” Killian adds, and Emma beams at him.

“I can’t have this conversation with either of you,” David groans. “You both have super human tolerance.”

“Is that so, Swan?”

Emma raises her beer toward him. “It is so,” she replies, smiling mischievously at him.

He chuckles. “Seems like you’re challenging me,” he mumbles.

She shrugs innocently, walking into the kitchen and retrieving a beer from the fridge. “Cheap beer work?” she asks.

He smirks. “It’s not rum, but it’ll do,” he replies.

Mary Margaret snorts. “Knowing Emma, there’s a flask of rum somewhere around this house.”

David chuckles lightly as Emma rolls her eyes. “Maybe,” she mutters, handing Killian the beer. He leans it toward her and grins.

“Cheers, love.” He stares at her is a way that is so disarming that she has to break eye contact, tapping the bottleneck to his before taking a long swig. She walks away immediately, unable to take the unnerving way that he seems to read her face more easily than anyone else in her life.

David observes them, making a weird hum under his breath that she decidedly ignores. “Okay, so I’m going to take a shower and get ready so that I can look presentable for the people that arrive,” Emma announces, leaving out the part where she just needs to put a physical wall between herself and Killian.

Mary Margaret chuckles. “Okay, Em… are you taking that beer into the shower with you?”

Emma shrugs, “I don’t see why not. I’ve got a lot of socializing ahead of me. I’ll need it.”

Killian laughs. “Besides, she’s gotta keep up with me tonight,” he cut in.

David claps a hand onto Killian’s shoulder. “It will probably be you keeping up with her, bud.”

Before Emma can hear his most likely charming response, she slips into the bathroom and turns the water on, sighing loudly when she can finally catch her breath.

Something about being around Killian and her family at the same time throws Emma for a loop. Because she loves the way he fits into her life seamlessly. And she can’t show that, because Mary Margaret and David will see right through her, and she doesn’t need the typical lectures that they tend to lovingly dole out. It’s always well intentioned, but it makes Emma feels so broken.

If anyone is aware that Emma has some serious issues, it’s her. Her family trying to psychoanalyze her just makes her feel guilty for things out of her control.

She stands under cold water first, silently counting to herself as she tries to pull herself together. Then she turns the faucet all the way to the left, the water suddenly burning her skin. She stands there until her skin turns red, and then turns the water off.

“Okay,” she whispers, staring at herself in the mirror. She quickly dries her hair and gets ready for the night ahead of her.

When she finally exits the bathroom, there’s a new beer sitting on the counter right outside the door. She looks around but Killian, David, and Mary Margaret are nowhere to be found. She allows herself to laugh quietly, bringing the beer to her lips before heading to her room to change.

Emma gets thrown around between David and Mary Margaret like a ping pong ball, both of them tugging her in different directions of her own home to meet their friends.

She smiles and does her best to make small talk, even though it’s never been her strong suit. This isn’t exactly her idea of a fun night, but it makes two of the most important people in her life very happy, so she sucks it up. After everything they’ve done for her in this life, she figures she owes them.

The best part of her night comes from Killian, which is irritatingly not surprising. While she gets stuck in several conversations with strangers, he sneaks behind her and replaces her empty beers with new ones. Most people don’t even notice the sneaky exchange, but she smiles and bites back laughter every time.

The fifth time he does this, she’s engaged in an awkward conversation with a kind man that goes by Archie. She meets Killians eyes over Archie’s shoulder, and he’s smirking at her knowingly from across the room. He raises his own beer toward her before returning to his conversation with Robin.

Finally, Mary Margaret and David are distracted enough in the corner of her living room that she can breathe. She makes her way toward Killian, who is staring down at his phone.

“If I didn’t know any better, Jones, I’d think you’re trying to get me drunk,” she says, and he jumps. He beams at her, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“I’m just trying to see who can outdrink who. Killian Jones never backs down from a challenge,” he says, his blue eyes dancing.

“I have an idea,” she says suddenly. He does that outrageous thing with his eyebrows that makes her stomach clench, but she does her best to power through. “Follow me,” she says.

He nods, “As you wish, love,” he says quietly, and she ignores the way his low voice makes her skin feel as if it’s on fire.

She looks around to make sure no one is looking, and when she’s satisfied, she opens her bedroom door and pulls him in with her.

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay, Swan, I have to say, I definitely think I’m holding my alcohol better than you if you’re already drunk enough to drag me into your bedroom.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes. “Shut up,” she muters. “I’m looking for something.”

“Is it your inhibitions?”

She doesn’t justify his question with an answer, reaching into her sock drawer, digging around the back until her hand meets something metal.

“A-ha!” she shouts, producing her flask from the drawer and waving it in his face. “I do have rum in here,” she says.

“I’m impressed,” he says, eyeing her carefully as she twists the cap on and takes a long pull. She squeezes her eyes shut as the rum burns her throat on the way down. She hands it to him and he takes an appreciative shot.

She smiles. “Hold onto that, would you. My pockets aren’t big enough,” she says, heading back to her door.

“We’re leaving already? I think we can find something to do in here, don’t you?” he questions, and his voice is teasing, but his eyes are dark.

“Come on,” she groans, putting her hands on his shoulders and half pushing him back out of her room. She pretends that the simple act of placing her hands on his body doesn’t send a chill down her spine. And she’s pretty sure he pretends not to notice.

As if her spidey senses are tingling, Mary Margaret sees them as soon as they exit her bedroom. Emma rolls her eyes at the look that crosses her sister-in-law’s face, shaking her head. Killian chuckles beside her and Emma sighs.

“Em!” David calls out, timing perfect as ever. “Come here, I want you to meet my sergeant.”

Emma bites back her groan, leaving Killian’s side to meet yet another face who’s name she will most likely forget by the end of the evening.

The night flies by like that, and she hardly gets another chance to talk to Killian. When she finally sees him again, the party is winding down and Emma is only slightly buzzed, the constant socialization very sobering.

She walks over to Killian, who is sitting on her couch talking to Robin again. “Hey guys,” she says, falling onto the couch beside him. She notices him tense slightly when her arm brushes against his, so she scoots away a bit.

“How are you liking it here, Emma?” Robin asks kindly, and Emma smiles politely. She’s only had to answer this question a dozen times this evening. But she’s aware they all mean well.

“I like it a lot. My neighbor is a little strange but that’s to be expected in a big city I suppose,” she says, and Killian scoffs from beside her.

Robin chuckles, “I work with the guy… you don’t have to tell me how strange he is.”

“Alright,” Kilian cuts in. “Enough of this.”

Emma giggles, and for the first time all night, she feels comfortable. She doesn’t think about how she feels most comfortable sitting beside Killian. Robin says his goodbyes and leaves.

She closes her eyes, resting her head back against the couch cushion.

“Thanks for making tonight bearable, Killian,” she says quietly. She hears him move, feels his arm against hers, and she opens her eyes, turning to find that he’s looking at her with soft eyes. “What?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name,” he says.

Before she can respond, Mary Margaret is back and she’s talking a mile a minute. Killian clears his throat, scooting away ever so slightly. His absence leaves her feeling cold.

The party comes to an end, and Killian leaves after a quick goodbye. She glances back at him when he leaves, sighing when the door shuts and she’s left alone with David and Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret seems to read her face, but glances at David and doesn’t say anything.

They clean everything up, and David and Mary Margaret end up falling asleep on couch. She smiles to herself when she looks at the couple, cuddled together. Then she locks the door, turns off the lights, and puts herself to sleep.

---///---

She can hear Henry rambling on and on from the top of the steps as she locks their door. She assumes he’s talking to Killian on his porch, and her heart pounds in anticipation.

She takes the steps down slowly, biting back her smile as she reaches the porch. She stops short when she sees a beautiful redhead speaking to her son.

“Oh, hi,” Emma says, and she doesn’t mean to sound short, but she can hear how clipped her tone is.

Her arms are full of brown bags filled with groceries. “Hi, hi,” she says, struggling to keep everything in her arms. “I’m just trying to help Killy. Sometimes I surprise him by leaving actual real groceries in his home. I know he gets busy, you know, but having real nutritious food in your kitchen makes life so much easier. Especially when he’s too good of a cook to not have groceries stocked up here. He says I’m overbearing but I think deep down he appreciates it.”

Henry laughs, taking a couple bags from her hands. Emma watches as the woman digs into her pocket and pulls out her keys, fishing out of the one for Killian’s front door quickly.

“Thanks so much,” she says to Henry once she swings the door open. “You’re a real gentlemen.”

Her son smiles, beaming at Emma as he follows her inside and sets the bags down for her. Emma stays on the porch, the idea of stepping into Killian’s apartment without him present making her feel strange.

Henry and the stranger walk back out to the porch and Henry readjusts his backpack. The girl smiles. “I’m Anna. You must be Killian’s new upstairs neighbor,” she says.

“Emma,” she says tightly. “This is Henry. I’m sorry, but we have to get to my brother’s. We are going to be late.”

“Oh, David? Ugh I love David. And Mary Margaret. Talk about a match made in heaven, right?”

Emma raises an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Yep, a real fairytale,” she says. “Nice meeting you,” she says before practically dragging a smiling Henry to her yellow bug.

“Why were you so rude to that girl?” Henry asks, but his tone is smug and knowing. Emma shoots him a look as she starts her car.

“I wasn’t rude, kid. We really are running late.”

“We’re always running late. What’s the big deal with today?” he asks. He’s staring out the window, trying to sound more casual than he actually is.

Emma laughs despite herself, swallowing down the irrational anger and jealousy as she pulls into traffic. “I just don’t want to hear it from them today, is all.”

“Sure,” Henry says breezily, not quite able to cover up the laugh in his voice.

---///---

Killian should not be surprised by the way his sisters-in-law both feel the need to insert themselves into his life, playing mother when he has never asked. He laughs when he walks into his apartment to find it stocked with groceries. He knows Elsa is out of town for work, so he falls down onto his couch before he calls Anna.

“Oh, hello Killy!” she greets happily.

“You know I’m capable of doing my own shopping, correct?” he asks lightly.

He can hear the smile in her voice. “Yes, I am. You know that I love you and just want to help you because I know your job is stressful and keeps you very busy, correct?”

“How’s Kristoff?” he asks, because he and Anna have had this conversation so many times it has honestly gotten old at this point.

“He’s good. How’s your neighbor?” she counters, her voice mischievous.

Her question gives him pause. “What do you mean?”

“I met her today when I was bringing in your groceries. She is stunning, Killian! And her son is adorable and kind.”

He doesn’t know why he gets so tense, but he does. “They’re both very nice, yeah,” he says vaguely.

Anna snorts. “Emma wasn’t very nice, actually. But I suppose she didn’t know I was your sister-in-law and therefore got a little jealous. I should have mentioned it, but it slipped my mind. I can relate though. Back in college, I saw this girl talking to Kristoff and I literally lost my mind. It was kind of crazy, since I had only just broken up with Hans. I had no right to be jealous and yet I was. Turns out, it was his cousin. Also, it turns out, you can’t control your irrational anger.”

Killian rolls his eyes. “Trust me, Emma was not jealous. She is just a little standoff-ish at first. She’s quite nice once you get to know her, though,” he says, because there’s no way she could have been jealous.

“Hmm, that sounds familiar,” she says innocently.

“Anna,” he groans, rubbing over his face with his hand in frustration.

She giggles. “What, I was talking about Elsa,” she says, but her tone says otherwise.

“Thanks for the food, Anna. I’ll see you and Elsa next weekend,” he says, and she laughs knowingly before she hangs up.

He left his front door open, the screen door closed, letting in the beautiful breeze. It also lets in the noise of Emma and Henry as they walk up the sidewalk.

“Mom,” he whines, and Killian feels affection well up in his chest.

“Henry,” she whines back mockingly. Her son giggles. “Listen, kid,” she says. “You’re right. I’m a big jerk. We’re going to move on and I’ll be better in the future.”

Killian raises an eyebrow, standing up to head out to his porch.

He swings the door open, and Emma’s eyes widen for a split second before she schools her features to her normal guarded look.

“Hey,” she says easily, although there is tension in her tone.

Henry clears his throat. “See ya later, Killian!” he says before heading upstairs to their apartment. Emma glares after her son’s retreating figure before returning her attention to him.

“How are you today Swan?” he asks.

She leans against the front of his porch, looking him over quickly. “I’m okay. How are you?”

“Good,” he says. He eyes her carefully, considers her tight smile and distant eyes. “I heard you met Anna earlier.”

“Yep,” she says shortly. “She’s great.”

Killian bites back his smile as he watches her cold eyes avoid his. Oh. Oh. She is jealous, at least a little bit. He wants to let this go on, but decides to let her off the hook. “Yeah. She’s intense but she’s my sister-in-law so what can you do?”

He knows he’s not imagining the way her shoulder slump with relief.

“Sister-in-law?” she asks casually.

He nods, full on smirking now. “I’ve got two of them, actually. They’re incredibly overbearing but I love them anyways,” he says.

She crosses her arms over her chest, smiling slightly. “Oh.”

“Is it possible that you were feeling a bit jealous?”

He’s grinning playfully at her, and she rolls her eyes, sending him a glare. “I have nothing to be jealous of.”

He nods. “I don’t know, love. You seem quite green with envy to me.”

“You wish,” she mumbles, adjusting her messenger bag on her shoulder and glancing at her front door, likely plotting her escape.

“Sorry to upset you, Emma, but you’re something of an open book.”

She finally does look at him, really looks at him, and her eyes are exploring his, searching for something. Whatever she’s looking for, she must find it, because she softens slightly.

“I wasn’t jealous,” she says, but it’s teasing now. “See you later.”

She opens her front door and that smile she sends him gives him the courage to reach for her upper arm. She stops, turning to look at him.

“Are you and Henry doing anything for dinner tonight?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Nothing more than mac and cheese on the couch, why?”

He shrugs. “I’ve got all these groceries. Why don’t you guys come down for dinner? We can enjoy it on the porch. It’s going to start cooling down soon.”

She smiles slightly. “You don’t have to cook us dinner.”

He shakes his head. “I know, but I’d like to.”

She sighs, pursing her lips together as she thinks. “What time?”

He claps his hands together happily. “Ah! I knew I could tempt you! It will be ready by seven, my lady.”

She shoots him a look of amusement, shaking her head. “You’re so weird, Jones,” she mutters, but he only smiles wider at her. She turns away, but she glances back at him before heading upstairs, and her eyes are dancing.

---///---

Henry only asks Emma about twenty questions about her and Killian, why he’s making them dinner, he must like her, and does she like him, he’s so cool, before she gets him downstairs by seven.

“Just--kid--stop asking these questions,” she says in a hushed tone as they stand outside his front door on his porch. “He’s just being nice.”

“That’s because he likes you, mom,” Henry whines, but the door swings open to reveal a smiling Killian before she can respond.

And he’s beaming at the two of them. “Ah, Swan! Henry! Just in time!” he practically shouts, and Henry rushes right past him, exploring Killian’s apartment as if he’s searching for hidden treasure.

“Wow, cool!” Henry says, pointing at a ship in a bottle that’s sitting on Killian’s mantle. “It’s like a pirate lives here!”

Killian barks a laugh at that, and Emma shakes her head at her son.

“Yeah, we’ve got a regular Captain Hook on our hands,” Emma deadpans, taking a step further into the apartment. Blacks, greys, and whites surround her. Photos of him with friends or family are framed around his living room, along with nautical themed decor. The place screams Killian, and it makes Emma smile without even realizing it.

He creeps up behind her. “I hope you guys like pasta carbonara,” he says before brushing past her. She tries to ignore the way goosebumps rise along the back of her neck when she feels his breath on her.

“Do you want me to set the table?” she asks, watching as he whizzes around his kitchen with ease. He shakes his head at her.

“I’ve got dinner all set up on the porch, love. You and Henry go sit, I’ll be right out.”

Henry runs out to the table on his front porch, and Emma only lingers for a few seconds, watching as Killian grabs water bottles from his fridge.

Henry’s smile is as bright as the sun when she sits down beside him. “Yeah, mom, he doesn’t like you,” he says, pointing at the beautiful spread on the table. There’s pasta, salad, and bread on the table, and Emma laughs when she looks up to see Killian with three water bottles shoved under his arm, a bottle of wine and two glasses shoved under the other arm. She stands up, grabbing the wine and the glasses from him to ease his struggle.

He smirks at her, watching her closely as she carefully sets down the glasses.

“This is too much, Killian,” she says, and her voice is much softer than she had intended.

He seems to catch the change in her demeanor, head whipping toward her to study her face. She feels warm under his gaze, so she looks over at Henry, who is already piling pasta onto his plate, smiling knowingly down at the table.

The dinner is delicious, and the company is even better. Killian and Henry joke back and forth about stupid things, sometimes poking fun at David, sometimes at Emma. Killian tells them of his love for the sea, how he actually has a boat that has a home down at the docks, how he’d absolutely love to take them out on the water.

It’s overwhelming, for Emma to feel so much ease around a man that makes her feel so…

What?

Alive? Scared? Excited?

She’s not quite sure yet, but it’s too much of something, it sets her on edge.

Or at least, it should. But sitting down, watching him converse casually as he scoops more pasta onto Henry’s plate, it’s almost--easy?

Emma looks over at Henry and smiles, watching as he tries to sneakily grab another piece of bread. “Hey,” she says, and his hand meets his side quickly. Killian chuckles while Emma shakes her head. “It’s a school night. Head upstairs, kid,” she says.

He smiles, jumping up and giving Killian a hug. The action takes him surprise, if the shock on his face is anything to go off of, but his arms circle her son quickly.

“Thanks for dinner!” he says, pulling away and kissing Emma on the cheek. “Night, mom,” he says, and without another word or glance in her direction, he’s running up the stairs in the world’s most obvious attempt to leave them alone.

Killian smirks at Emma, clearly reading the room correctly.

“He’s such a little rascal,” Emma mutters and Killian shrugs.

“He’s a smart lad is all,” he says, standing up to clear the plates from the table.

“Smartass, maybe,” Emma concedes, jumping up and taking the plates from Killian’s hands. “Please, let me clean up.”

“What? No, I won’t hear of it. I invited you to dinner, love,” he says, but when he reaches for the plates again, she takes a step back, leveling him with her hard stare.

“No,” she says firmly. “I’ll clean. You can pour more wine into my glass and wait out here, got it?” her tone conveys that there is no room for argument, so he sighs, holding his hands up in defeat.

It takes her ten minutes longer than necessary to clean everything up. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t linger inside to collect her thoughts before heading back outside. She strolls through his apartment slowly on her way to the porch, taking it all in. Her eyes catch on a photo on the mantle. She stops and walks closer, her heart warming when she sees the frame photo of Killian and David standing in front of Madison Square Garden, smiling happily at the camera. She sighs, and when she gets outside, she finds Killian sitting on the porch swing, sipping slowly from his own wine glass.

He smiles when he sees her, bright and so genuine, before holding out her wine glass. “Ah, Swan, at last! Come sit,” he says, and she slowly approaches him, setting into the spot beside him on the porch swing, thankful for the arm rest between them.

She looks ahead at the street, cars bustling by, even at ten at night, and she tries not to focus on the fact that she can feel Killian staring at her profile.

“Thanks for dinner,” she says, finally turning to look at him. His eyes are too soft, too understanding. “Where’d you learn to cook like that?” she asks, if only to start a conversation and hopefully get him to stop looking at her like… that.

He smiles fondly, if not a little sadly, and looks out at the street as well.

“My brother taught me, actually,” he says, his voice distant.

“What’s his name?” Emma asks, taking in the sounds of the city.

She’s lived in small towns, the countryside, big cities, but none quite like New York City. There is always noise, always people walking around, and always lights. Somehow, though, it’s become more of a comfort to Emma. Now, she can’t imagine going to sleep without the sounds she’s become accustomed to relying on.

“His name was Liam,” Killian says after a beat. She stops, turning to look at him again. His eyes are set firmly on her yellow bug that’s parked in front of the house.

“Was?” she repeats, because she doesn’t know what else to say.

He nods. “He died, about six years ago now. He was in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver. He died instantly,” Killian says, and Emma can almost hear the horrid memory in his voice.

“Killian,” she says, drawing in a sharp breath. He doesn’t respond. She reaches out to him, placing her free hand on top of his. He looks down at the hand, then at her. He examines her face, and she keeps her eyes on his for once, trying to convey her emotions without speaking. Trying to show him that there is no pity in her eyes, just understanding and support.

He nods. “It was long ago now, the wound isn’t quite as fresh but…” he trails off, seemingly searching for the rest of his sentence, when she finishes it for him.

“It hurts just the same.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Aye.”

She squeezes his hand once before returning it to her lap.

“You can tell me about him, if you want.”

So he tells her about Liam. About how their mother passed away and how their father turned to alcohol to soothe his pain. How Liam stepped up and took care of Liam, raised him to be an upstanding man. How he was the moral compass that Killian needed in his darkest hours. How he taught Killian how to cook a great meal, but how Killian was never quite able to make lemon bars anywhere near as well Liam could.

In return, she tells him about her life in foster care. In homes where no one cared about her, where was neglected, abused, and forgotten. And about how David befriended her in high school, and when he learned of her home life, or lack thereof, he and Ruth took her in without question.

He smiles at her, and she feels the warmth trapped in her ribcage spread from her toes to her fingertips.

“I’m no stranger to loss,” she says quietly. And he doesn’t ask for more, doesn’t pry at all. Just watches her, waits for more. She takes a sip of her wine before continuing. “Henry’s father, Neal, passed away a few years ago,” she confides.

He winces. “Swan, I’m sorry. Were you guys married?” he asks.

She shakes her head, a little to vehemently, she thinks. “No, no. We fell in love when I was seventeen. We were just kids. He wasn’t much in the picture after I got pregnant. He had a gambling issue, and just a sticking around issue, it seemed. But, when Henry was six, he got his life together, and he really showed up for Henry. He did his best to make up for lost time, really, and I was really happy for him.”

Killian reaches forward this time, just letting his hand settle softly on her knee, and her entire body feels alight.

“He got lung cancer. It all happened fast. About six months from the time of his diagnosis to the time that he died. That’s all.”

“Gods, Emma,” Killian breathes.

She nods. “After he died, I think I lost it, a little. It’s just, well, I didn’t know how to cope. I lost so much in my life before David came around and brought family and love into my life. And I didn’t want Henry to hurt anymore, but I didn’t know how to make that happen. We moved a bunch, and I never felt quite settled anywhere.”

Killian’s quiet for a minute, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. He’s processing. “And New York is another in the long line?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “No.”

He smiles slightly. “I’m glad to hear that.”

She sets her empty wine glass down on the porch, sighing.

“I’m glad you’re my neighbor,” she tells him, because she doesn’t know what else to say, and she doesn’t know how to convey how grateful she is that he just listened to her ramble with kindness in his eyes, but she has to say something.

“Emma,” he says, a little breathless, and she looks over at him. His face is different. His heart is truly on his sleeve when he reaches forward and brushes her hair behind her ear.

“What’s happening?” she asks.

He laughs. “Well, not to be presumptuous, darling, but,” he trails off, running his fingers slowly over his lips and smiling at her mischievously.

She scoffs, green eyes locked on his blue ones. The smug action should not be so charming, but, dammit, it really is. She can’t even fight the smile playing on her lips. “Please,” she breathes. “You couldn’t handle it.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, and it’s ridiculous, the things he does with those eyebrows, and how it constantly affects her.

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,” he practically purrs,

That’s all it takes for her to lean forward and catch his lips with her own. It’s awkward, at first, the wooden armrest between them lodged into her side as she leans forward, trying to get closer, one hand gripping at the collar of his shirt while the other finds its way to his hair. But when he groans with pleasure into her mouth, she forgets the pain in her side.

When she pulls his away, his eyes are open, free, and she sighs, resting her forehead against his for a minute.

“That was, uh--” his voice is hoarse, and she cuts him off before he finish.

“A one time thing,” she says sternly, backing away and standing up.

A look of hurt crosses his face as he processes her abrupt mood change. She can barely look at him, feeling like the coward she knows she is.

“It’s late, I should go,” she says, her voice shaking.

“Goodnight, Emma,” he says, his voice faraway, and she doesn’t spare him another look before she heads upstairs, where it’s safe and there is a considerable amount of space between them.

---///---

She spends the next two weeks guiltily rushing away from him every time they run into each other on the porch. He shoots her these knowing looks, and it gets under her skin, the fact that he clearly understands how scared she is. It would be better if he just looked mad or annoyed. But no, of course, Killian Jones is nothing but understanding and compassionate. And he really can read her, terrifying as that is.

When Henry tells Emma he’s going to a sleepover at a friend’s house, she makes it a point to call Mary Margaret and demand a girls night in. Because heaven forbid she spends the night alone above Killian Jones.

When she gets to Mary Margaret and David’s apartment, she lets herself in and calls out into the empty space. “I’m here, I’ve got wine, let’s start drinking… like, five minutes ago!”

She looks around, sighing, but smiles when she sees the door to her balcony cracked open. She heads out to see David, Killian and Mary Margaret all talking, sitting in the little chairs on the balcony. Emma stops short, fighting back a loud groan when Killian’s kind eyes reach hers.

“Hey, Swan,” he says easily, though he’s more reserved than usual.

“Hi,” she says, her voice scratchy to her own ears.

There’s a moment of silence, and neither David nor Mary Margaret feel the need to jump in and save them. The married couple just keep looking at each other knowingly, seemingly having an entire conversation without speaking a word.

“Okay,” David says finally, and Emma lets out an audible sigh of relief, much to Killian’s chagrin. “Killian, you ready to head out?” he asks, clapping his hands together awkwardly.

“Where are you guys going?” Emma asks as Killian stands.

“Poker night at Robin’s,” Killian says, and Emma nods.

“Have fun.”

David eyes Emma, and she looks away because no one knows her better than David, and she doesn’t want him to see right through her, like he always does.

They say their goodbye and move to leave the balcony, but David stops and places a kiss on Emma forehead. “You okay, Ems?” he asks quietly against her hair.

She nods, sending him a half-hearted smile before she pushes him toward the door lightly. He sighs and leaves with his friend. Emma groans, falling into the seat that Killian had just vacated, and glares over at Mary Margaret.

“They wouldn’t stop talking. They were supposed to leave a half hour ago, I swear,” Mary Margaret says. Emma just frowns, replaying the look in Killian’s eyes over and over in her head. “I’ll go get the glasses,” Mary Margaret says, and Emma nods, leaning back into her seat and closing her eyes.

Mary Margaret comes back with two glasses, and Emma wastes no time in popping open the wine bottle and pouring a generous amount into both glasses.

“I kissed him,” she mutters into her glass.

Mary Margaret smiles at Emma, the exact opposite reaction that Emma was hoping for. Also, the exact reaction she was expecting.

“Of course you did, Em,” she says softly. “You like him.”

Emma pouts, and Mary Margaret laughs. Emma stretches her legs out, glad she chose to wear jeans and sweatshirt, as fall was finally hitting full force and the temperature had dropped considerably.

“What’s so bad about kissing him? He’s a good guy, Emma. I know you can see that.”

“I just… don’t have time. And he’s my neighbor, I mean… when it all goes to hell, it’s going to be so awkward. Plus, Henry is really attached to him already, so I don’t want to ruin that either.”

“When it all goes to hell?” Mary Margaret repeats back, and then shakes her head in a way that can only be described as motherly.

“It always does.”

“Yeah, that’s how it works. Different relationships don’t last for varying reasons, until you’re in one that does work.”

Emma levels her sister-in-law with a look. “Says the girl that married her high school sweetheart.”

Mary Margaret laughs lightly at this, taking another sip of her wine. “My situation is very rare, and just a matter of dumb luck…” she trails off, considering her words. “And also, a matter of hard work. It wasn’t easy when we were in college, trying to figure out our paths, separately and together. We worked through it.”

Emma nods, remembering her years as Mary Margaret’s roommate, listening to the struggles of the couple navigating this new phase of life.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okay, tell me this,” she urges, taking a new approach. “What do you like about Killian?”

Emma groans, and she feels heat rush to her cheeks. “I don’t know, Snow. He’s kind. And he’s so good with Henry. He makes me laugh… but also… it’s weird. He just… sometimes, when he looks at me, it’s like we’ve known each other our whole lives.”

She can hear how cheesy her own words are, but she doesn’t know how else to explain her attraction to all things Killian Jones.

Mary Margaret beams, nodding. “Sounds pretty nice to me,” she says.

Emma pours more wine into her glass, decidedly ignoring her sister-in-law for a moment.

She continues, though. “Emma, it’s pretty obvious he’s half in love with already.”

That’s all it takes for Emma to choke on the wine she’s in the process of swallowing. Emma frowns, looking down at the spots of red on her grey sweatshirt, but Mary Margaret only chuckles in response.

“I know Killian pretty well. He’s one of the most decent men I’ve gotten to know. He also wears his heart on his sleeve, when it comes to the people he loves. His eyes scream I love Emma Swan every time you’re in his vicinity, or even when David or I bring you up around him. I know you’re frightened, Emma, but you know, being scared is a good sign. Sometimes, when something scares you, that means you need to go for it.”

She considers her words. She’s gotten enough pep talks from Snow in her lifetime that she expected this lecture. However, she didn’t expect to find it so convincing.

“You need to have a little hope, Emma. Sometimes, just believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a powerful thing. And no one deserve a happy ending more than you.”

“What if my happy ending really is just Henry and me,” Emma interjects, but the words lack the conviction she means for them to have.

“That’s fine, too. Just, don’t settle. Life is too short, and you know that to be true.”

---///---

Emma mulls over Mary Margaret’s words, but it’s still a week before she talks to Killian again. She actually has to ask David to send her Killian’s phone number, rolling her eyes when he follows up the text with no less than fifteen questions about why she needs his number.

The thing is, though, that Henry called Emma saying that he forgot his keys at home, and she knows that she won’t be home until nine due to a wedding that she’s catering. He’s on the bus home when he tells her this, and she panics, knowing it’s close to thirty degrees outside, and knowing that the kid most definitely ignored her when she told him to dress for the weather.

Mary Margaret and David are out of town for a romantic long weekend at a bed and breakfast in some sleepy down in Maine, and she doesn’t know who else to call.

“Hello?” his voice answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Killian,” she says, and she winces at the breathless sound of her voice.

There’s one second of silence that somehow stretches on for years before he responds. “Swan?” he asks, disbelief clear in his voice. “Are you alright?”

She smiles despite herself. “Yeah, yeah. I’m just stuck at work and Henry is going to be home any minute and he’s going to be locked out because he forgot his keys and I forgot to hide the spare so I was wondering, you know, if you’re home, and free, if you--”

He cuts off her run-on sentence. “I’m home. I’d be happy to entertain the lad in my home while you work, love,” he says.

She breathes out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Killian, really,” she says, hoping her tone conveys her gratitude.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says.

The line goes silent and she sighs. “I have to go back to work.”

“Of course,” he says, not unkindly. “See you later.”

She hangs up before she can say something stupid, like how much she misses him, and how much she needs to see him.

When Emma gets home, it’s nearing eleven o’clock at night, and she’s beyond exhausted. She knocks lightly on Killian’s door, trying to ignore the way her arm is shaking with nerves.

He opens the door after a moment, and it’s quiet inside. She looks past him to see Henry asleep on the couch, a red blanket tossed over him. Emma smiles at the sight, then looks at Killian, who is leaning against the doorframe looking criminally handsome in his flannel pajama pants and black t-shirt.

“Hi,” she finally says, and he smiles in response. “You’re my hero.”

He laughs, rolling his eyes as she moves to the side to allow her to enter his apartment. They walk quietly past the living room, back into the kitchen so they can talk freely. Her heart is pounding against her chest.

He turns to her, leaning against his counter. “What’s been going on, Swan?” he asks, his voice free of judgment.

She shakes her head, staring down at her shoes. “I’m terrified of you.”

She doesn’t need to look up at him to know that his gaze is intense and on her only.

“Am I frightening, love?” he asks, his voice a little teasing. She laughs, looking back up at him, and his face is kind. And lonely. “You know, I’ve missed your sass these past few weeks.”

She shakes her head. “I have more to offer than sass, Jones,” she mutters.

“Oh, believe me, I know,” he says.

She reaches into her messenger bag, pulling out the small tupperware. His brows knit together with confusion.

“I made you something… as a thank you, for watching Henry tonight.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Emma. It’s really no problem.”

She rolls her eyes. “They may not be as good as the ones your brother made, but Henry loves my lemon bars, so I thought I’d make you some.”

He stares at her like she just presented him with all the fortune and riches this world has to offer. He takes the box from her gingerly, staring down at it with wonder before setting his eyes back on her.

“This is very kind, Swan,” he says finally, his voice trembling slightly.

She shrugs, stepping into his space slightly. He doesn’t move closer, though, he lets her control the situation. “Killian, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry,” she sighs, fighting the urge to break eye contact. “The answer to your question… you do frighten me. It’s not your fault, it’s me.”

She stops, and he nods. “I knew you were scared, Swan. I’ve been trying to give you space.”

“Yeah,” she says, reaching her hand forward to rest lightly on his forearm. “Yeah, I noticed. What was that about me being an open book?” she asks, and he laughs quietly. “I just… I didn’t expect this.”

“Neither did I,” he agrees.

She takes the tupperware from him with her other hand, placing it on the counter behind him. “So, what now?” she asks after a beat.

He shrugs. “What do you want, Swan?”

His body surrounds her now, she’s left very little space between them. She searches his eyes for an answer to his question, and then she takes the leap. “I’d like to try something new,” she says.

“Really? And what’s that, darling?” he asks.

Her heart leaps at the endearment, and she doesn’t even bother trying to fight the smile on her face. “Trust.”

He laughs, full and joyous, and she leans forward to press her lips to his.

His hands tangle in her hair quickly, and she’s so happy that she laughs lightly into the kiss, and he responds in kind. He pulls away, pressing soft kisses to her nose, her cheeks, her forehead.

She’s giggling the entire time, and it feels like an out of body experience. She doesn’t know this Emma, this brave, terrified, thrilled Emma.

It’s his phone that interrupts them, and she jumps a bit at the sound. He rolls his eyes, pulling it from his pocket to silence it. She leans forward, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

“I missed you, too, Killian,” she admits, and he laughs, running his hand down her side, settling it on her hip.

They stand like that for a moment, and she pulls back slightly to kiss him once more when they’re interrupted again.

“Mom?”

She jumps away quickly, and Emma looks up to see Killian’s face turning red. She turns around to see her sleepy son staring at them with awe.

“Hey, kid, did we wake you?”

He just raises his eyebrows in disbelief, shaking his head. “Are those lemon bars?” he asks, looking past her to the container on the counter.

She rolls her eyes, and he just shrugs. “Save me some. I’m going back to sleep.”

With that, he turns around and Emma is staring at Killian, who is chuckling at the entire scenario they’ve found themselves in.

It’s only three months more of them getting to know every single thing about each other that he tells her he loves her. He whispers it into her ear one evening on the couch. And for the first time in a long time, her instinct isn’t to run. It’s too press her lips to his shoulder and tell him that she’s so in love with him, that he’s changed her life.

Three months after that, they decide it makes more sense for Emma to move in with him, and Henry couldn’t be happier when the new neighbors move in, giving him a new friend, Violet, to spend time with. Emma doesn’t miss the way his cheeks redden when the young girl waves at him.

And it’s hard work, sometimes. Emma has to learn how to really open herself up, to be truly vulnerable, but it’s worth it. It's the happy ending she never could have imagined for herself, but it's the one that eventually, she realizes, she deserves.

#once upon a time #Killian Jones #Emma Swan #Killian x Emma #Captain Swan #my fic #CS fic #cs ff au

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