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theasstour · 4 years

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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟐𝟎.𝟐𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

A/N: Thank you so incredibly much to each one of you angels who voted for ST in the 1D Craft Awards 🥺 You continue to take my breath away with all your kindness, support and love 🐚🌊✨ ENJOYYY CHAPTER 7! x

Saturday, 25 July

The phone vibrated against the wooden table, jolting Y/N out of her focus. She blinked a few times, looking over at Fatima who turned the timer off and looked at Y/N with expectant eyes. Y/N shook her head and Fatima’s face visibly fell.

“What you mean?”

“I didn’t finish, did I?” Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face, hiding it from view for a few seconds before she sat back in her chair and looked at her laptop in front of her. The two were sitting at Olive’s Café on Island Square, seated on lime green chairs outside, the morning sun beating down on them as each of them tried to do work; Fatima looking through the curriculum she was going to teach this coming year, and Y/N doing her UCAT work. Fatima was a teacher for fourth graders, so she knew how to make things easy to understand, how to pull things apart and study properly. When Fatima had suggested that the two of them take a day together to just study, Y/N had jumped at the opportunity. Now, they had met to do exactly this a few days in a row and Y/N was really starting to feel the effects.

The thought of the UCAT exam coming closer and closer made her want to hurl. September 10th didn’t seem that far away anymore, something that absolutely terrified Y/N. Not only did she need to be out of St Ives by then, leaving her entire life and friends here behind, but she didn’t know where she’d even be. Would she even have enough money? Would she still be in Cornwall? Would she have crawled with her tail between her legs back to Winchester, asking for forgiveness for leaving them all behind?

Fatima pursed her lips, tapping her pen against the top of Y/N’s laptop. “Is it ‘cause you’re stressing too much?”

“Probs.”

“It’s hard not to when it’s important to you.”

Y/N sighed heavily, nodding her head in agreement. “This practice exam… well, it was hard.”

“They usually are, the practice exams,” Fatima explained. “Not necessarily so to scare you, more so that you’ll be aware that this will be hard, but the actual exam isn’t that bad. They never are.”

Y/N gave Fatima a little smile. “Taken the UCAT before?”

“Obvs, I’m the smartest bitch in all of the UK, if not Europe.”

Y/N laughed, quickly sighing again as she looked down at her laptop again. This was the first practice exam she had ever taken; Fatima had timed her to see if she’d make it in the estimated time it took to complete the UCAT, but Y/N hadn’t managed to. She supposed she still had a lot of time to study and prepare herself, but it still made her feel like all her studying had been for absolutely nothing. One failure, even if it didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, always seemed like the most important thing in the world. How had the world not shifted? How was not everyone around her crying like she felt she should be doing?

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Y/N. I promise you’ll be fine.”

She nodded, knowing deep down that Fatima was right. The universe would balance itself out eventually, everything would be alright in the end even if her current world was crumbling right before her eyes. Maybe she was just being dramatic, maybe it wasn’t that deep and she had just not been focused enough, but Y/N felt like giving up now.

“When I feel like I’m failing at life,” Fatima started, sitting up a bit straighter in her seat. “I pick up a pillow and I just scream into it.”

Y/N blinked.

Fatima grinned.

“You just scream? How?”

“Just like you’d normally scream,” Fatima chuckled, demonstrating by pretending to pick up a pillow, burying her face in it, and silently screaming. “And after that, I feel better.”

“Like a proper scream?”

“Like you’re being chased down the street by a man in a clown costume holding an axe.”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head some. “I’ll do that when I get back to the Inn. Immediately.”

Fatima laughed just as someone came up beside them, asking the man sitting beside them if the chair opposite him was taken. When the tiny, short-haired blonde sat down beside them, she beamed from ear to ear. There was something about Ellie’s presence that just made everything better. She was so round, so small, so joyous all the time that it felt wrong to be in a sulky mood when she was around.

“I heard you’re studying,” Ellie said, perching her yellow sunglasses on the top of her head. “And by the looks of it-“ Ellie mimicked what Fatima had just done with the scream. “-It’s not going so well.”

“Y/N’s studying for that dentist test and she tried one of them practice exams, didn’t go so well.”

“Aww.” Ellie pouted. “I’ll buy you a cupcake to cheer you up. I always eat tons when I’m sad, especially sweets. Especially, especially cupcakes.”

“Thanks for the offer, but-“

“-Ima, you want a cupcake as well?” Ellie put her purse down on her chair as she got up, holding onto her card. “Or a new iced latte?”

Fatima brought a hand to her chin, pretending to think about it, making exaggerated thinking noises till Ellie blurted a “today!” that made Fatima chuckle and say, “Both please, babe.”

Ellie smiled. “Girls, you know what I think we should do after this?” She waited for a few seconds for either of them to say something, but when they didn’t Ellie went on. “Go to the beach! You can’t be sad when you’re at the beach! We’ll sunbathe, have a bit of a swim, and then go for a Cheeky V at the pub after.”

Fatima smiled a little, looking at Y/N to see if she’d be into that.

Though all Y/N wanted to do was go back to the Inn and scream into her pillow, she smiled up at Ellie. “Yeah, why not? Have a bit of a girls day.”

“Oh, my gosh, that’s exactly what it is as well,” Ellie gasped, grinning from ear to ear. “BRB, ladies, I’m getting us something sweet.” Ellie was off into Olive’s Café greeting an acquaintance loudly before she went over to talk to them. Fatima only shook her head some, turning back to the book in front of her.

“You’ll figure it out, Y/N.”

“The UCAT?” she asked, looking at her laptop again, feeling her stomach drop at the sight of the practice exam again.

“Everything,” Fatima answered with so much conviction that for a moment, Y/N almost believed her.

“Alright, crew,” Dax called as they pulled into the farm, its lush and green landscape opening up around them. “Just warning you now, I’m gonna absolutely crush you tonight. I go for the title of champion even if it means I’m gonna have to lose some friends.”

“Sad, that,” Fatima sighed. “Seeing as you’ve never won before, what makes you think you’re gonna win this year?”

Amir turned to look at them from where he sat shotgun. “Dax, you may try to win, but we all know the former singer and frontman of Astronaut Lions will go home champion tonight.”

“You are a terrible singer, Amir. Dunno why we let you even sing,” Jo groaned.

“’Cause I’ve got a silky-smooth, delicious, fantastic-“

“-Shut up, mate!” Ellie groaned, making Jo laugh and give her a high five.

Harry stopped his van, killing the engine before Dax got up and opened the door for everything in the backseats. Y/N made sure no one could see her bum as she descended from the car, keeping her hands by her buttocks to keep her pleated lilac skirt from showing too much of her skin. She put her purse on her shoulder, letting it hang over her white crop cardigan. Music could be heard from the large barn, some awful singing streamed out from the open entrance as people walked out, laughing and carrying empty plates. The farm was just as beautiful as Y/N remembered it, now smelling of delicious barbeque and sounding of hens, chatter, and the occasional failed high-note. The karaoke night seemed to be under full way, the courtyard brimming with people, the same went for the inside of the barn it seemed.

Y/N, Fatima and Ellie fell into step beside one another as they walked over to the gate, Harry opening it for the rest, gesturing for them to walk in before him. When Y/N reached him last he gave her a little smile, eyes falling to the gravel under his feet.

“Harry!” Grace yelled, running from the grill where Uncle Tim, Jessa, and lolo stood looking at the food. “Harry, Harry, Harry!”

“There she is!” Harry bent down as Grace came running, wrapping his arms around her and spinning her around, her feet dangling in the air.

“Alright, Mr Flores?” Dax asked as he walked up to the grill, putting a hand on lolo’s shoulder. Lolo grinned up at Dax, saying something that Y/N didn’t catch as Amir let out a loud groan hitting his chest with both hands.

“Let’s go! Gonna belt Material Girl in approximately five minutes, everyone come watch to have your life changed!” Amir ran into the barn, shouting something as he met a few familiar faces inside.

“After a few pints he’ll try Gentleman,” Fatima sighed. “Someone should cover Gracie’s ears then.”

“That SL song?” Jo asked. “Nah, he better do Wiley Flow, or else I’m gonna have to challenge him to a rap battle.”

“Amir’s got no chance of keeping up with any of Stormzy’s songs,” Ellie pointed out matter-of-factly, scrunching up her nose. “Anyway,” Ellie stopped Jo before they started talking. “We’re doing Sugababes, yeah? About You Now?”

“Obvs!” Fatima exclaimed, offended that Ellie might’ve thought otherwise. “And Y/N’s joining us.”

“Oh!” Y/N raised her eyebrows, chuckling a little as Fatima wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard a Sugababes song.”

“They’re immense, aren’t they?” Ellie grinned. “I used to listen to Push The Button on repeat when I was like 12.”

“Was more of a Too Lost in You type of girl,” Y/N said, making Fatima gasp and Ellie bring a hand up to her chest.

“We’re doing Too Lost in You!” Ellie clapped her hands frantically. “Oh, my life! Legendary!”

“Of course,” Fatima smiled. “You wanna sing, yeah?”

“Let me down three ciders and I’ll be good to go.”

Jo laughed, gesturing for Y/N to follow them over to the main house where the four of them helped themselves to something to drink. Y/N glanced out of the kitchen window at the Styles-Flores family where they stood by the grill, sipping her cider. Grace sat on Harry’s shoulders, hands in his hair as she giggled at something. Harry had both his hands wrapped around his little sister’s ankles, holding her in place. Jessa was grinning at the two while Uncle Tim stood talking by the grill, asking lolo if what he was doing was alright, not having grilled this specific type of Filipino dish before. Dax stood chatting to one of Harry’s aunts, if it was Rachel or Abby, Y/N could not for the life of herself remember, but she noticed Harry’s aunt’s kids running around the grill, shouting at one another and laughing.

Y/N had never experienced a dynamic like this before. This family was so welcome, so big, so loving, and it made her happy to just watch them and know that, for a split second in time, she had been part of it. Maybe not a real part of it because this was not her family after all, but she had been touched by their warmth and been their guest for a time being. She would forever be grateful for that. Love tasted like Jessa’s lumpia, radiated like lolo’s approving smile, smelled like Grace’s hair after she had been out plucking wildflowers, and felt like Harry’s arms wrapped around her. Nothing would ever be quite like this.

“Let’s go to the barn,” Ellie said.

“I’ll just go say hi to Jessa,” Y/N announced, giving them all a smile before she walked outside and over to the grill where everyone was standing.

“Y/N!” Jessa exclaimed, opening her arms for her. Y/N grinned, walking over and doing the mano po on both Jessa and lolo. “How have you been? Don’t feel like I’ve seen you in ages.” Jessa swatted Harry’s arm, making him flinch away. “He’s keeping you all to himself, isn’t he?”

“I’ve been busy, nanay!” Harry said, furrowing his brows at his step-mum.

“Karaoke is huge in the Philippines,” Jessa explained, as she linked her arm with Y/N’s bringing her over to the grill where lolo and Tim were standing. “It is an understatement to say that Filipinos love karaoke, I daresay. Almost every Filipino home has a karaoke machine, Harry’s dad bought ours when we first moved here, but we put it out in the barn ‘cause we don’t really use it unless there’s a karaoke night, like tonight.”

“How nice, this is a tradition then? Each summer?”

“Yeah, we have a karaoke barbeque night every summer, everyone’s invited!” Jessa beamed. “It’s a fantastic way to just relax, forget about everything for a little while, belt your heart out to some of your favourite songs.”

Y/N smiled, eyes landing on the grill.

“Alright, Y/N?” Tim asked, smiling at her. “We made some tempeh for you, some Filipino barbeque sauce on it that’s out of this world. Not surprised, though, when Jessa made it.”

“Oh!” Jessa waved her hand as if to dismiss the compliment, but squeezed his shoulder. “I’m excited to see what you think. It was either tempeh or baos, thought you might like this a bit more.”

Y/N took a plate and a fork and watched as Tim put some food on her plate, thanking him once it was done. She picked up the tempeh and blew on it before she took a bite out of it, chewing it thoroughly and smiling at Jessa after swallowing.

“That’s brilliant.”

“Ahh! You think?” Jessa grinned, looking from Tim and back to Y/N, then at lolo. “Amá, Y/N liked the tempeh we made.”

Lolo smiled at Y/N and looked at her plate, nodding slowly. “You have to come and make some food with us once. You are part of the family now; we can show you our secret recipes.”

Y/N chuckled some before swallowing her bite of tempeh. “Wouldn’t say I’m part of the family, but thank you-“

“-Nonsense!” Jessa exclaimed, shaking her head furiously. “You are here, you’re making Harry happy, and since you’ve come to St Ives, the world’s been a brighter place. You’re where you need to be.”

For some reason, Y/N couldn’t quite believe what Jessa was saying. She knew it was coming from a good place, that she meant that it was nice to have Y/N there, but her family was in Winchester, she couldn’t possibly come into a new one and then ruin that one as well. This family she was visiting in St Ives would do just fine without her when she left in August. No one would miss her once she had been gone for a week, that was just a fact. Y/N was so bloody lost, she did not know what to do once her and Harry “broke up”, but she knew she would not disappoint and make any of the people around her sad, she refused.

Instead, Y/N smiled as she took the last bite of the tempeh, chewing and swallowing before she said. “Harry said something about an end of summer party.”

“Yes! I wanted to talk to you about that! Because, on the topic of food,” Jessa smiled back. “If you could give me some of your favourite vegetarian dishes, I’d love to make them for you! It would be amazing for many others to try something new as well.”

“I’d be more than happy to help out,” Y/N said, looking over at Grace as she sat on Dax’s back, the blonde man running around in circles as Harry ran after them, growling and acting like a disformed monster of sorts. She smiled a little at the sight, he looked absolutely ridiculous. How was he still cute? “I’ll bring the veggie food and I’ll show you how to make those, and then you show me how to make some Filipino dishes as well.”

Jessa placed a hand over her heart, beaming at Y/N. “You are an absolute treasure, me lover.”

Y/N smiled, eating some more of the tempeh. “When should I come and help out?”

“Are you free Tuesday?”

“Yeah, I don’t have any plans as of now.”

“Great! Harry will drive you here then. It’ll just be me, amá, Gracie, and Harry, and now you.” Jessa put her hand on Y/N’s arm, squeezing her lovingly before she turned to answer a question Tim asked her about the food he was currently grilling.

Y/N looked in the direction of Harry, Dax and Grace again, now walking towards the house. Jessa must have noticed Y/N staring in their direction because she linked her arm through Y/N’s and the two walked in the direction of the house as well.

“There’s more food inside,” she explained, grinning from ear to ear. “We do grill a lot, but Tim’s not really the best with the grill and he always insists on grilling at these gatherings, I don’t really have the heart to tell him no.” Jessa led Y/N into the dining room where she remembered all the food had been served at Grace’s birthday party. Again, casserole upon casserole stood spread over the dining table, covering it completely. Most of the dishes were all dug into, some almost completely wiped from the casseroles.

“Here,” Jessa said as she led Y/N over to the table. “I made your lumpia, there’s a few other vegetarian options as well.”

The fact that Jessa thought of this, thought of Y/N’s preference and made life a little easier for her, was so greatly appreciated that it nearly brought tears to Y/N’s eyes.

“This is biko,” Jessa explained, pointing to a casserole filled with banana leaves, a brown dish resting in it. “It’s a rice cake made from malagkit, or sticky rice, coconut milk, and brown sugar. Like other rice cakes, it is referred to as kakanin, taken from the word kanin which means rice, and is often eaten as a dessert or meryenda, meaning a mid-afternoon snack.”

“It looks lovely,” Y/N said, reaching for the spoon to get herself a slice before it was all eaten up. “Know we’re probably not set for dessert just yet, but I might just need some.”

Jessa laughed, smiling as Y/N took a bite of the biko. “What do you reckon, darling?”

“Heavenly, Jessa.”

Jessa clapped her hands together in delight, grinning from ear to ear as Y/N went in for another bite. “You have to try the buko pie next.”

“Which one’s that?”

Jessa pointed to a golden pie, not waiting for any sort of reply before cutting Y/N a small piece, placing it on Y/N’s plate. “It’s a sweet and rich pie made from young coconut meat.”

“Oh?”

“Buko pies are mostly sold in southern parts of Luzon in the Philippines. There’s this specific store down there called Collette’s that serves the best buko pie. I will never be able to replicate it, but I will try my hardest, every time I make a buko pie,” Jessa smiled. “We need to take you to Luzon, Y/N, you’d love it. Once we’ve saved up and all that.”

“This is the best buko pie I’ve ever tasted at least,” Y/N said, and Jessa laughed again looking out through the window only to sigh deeply.

“I need to go out there, it seems Tim is struggling and amá cannot be asked to help him out.” Jessa sprinted out, shouting something at Tim that Y/N didn’t catch but by the look on all the relatives standing around and Tim’s face, it couldn’t have been good. Y/N smiled a little, eating the rest of her pie before she realised she heard music. This wasn’t the type streaming out from the barn, this was coming from inside the house. And it was coming from the piano.

Y/N walked into the kitchen and placed her now empty plate on the kitchen counter before walking over to the dining room again, walking over to the doorway leading into the living room. With Grace on his lap, Harry was sitting by the piano, playing a tune Y/N had never heard before. It was both hopeful and very sad, unlike anything Y/N had ever heard before. There was no note sheet in front of him as he played, his eyes were only on the keys in front of him. Grace sometimes leaned forward and pressed a key she wasn’t supposed to, looking up at Harry while she giggled before leaning into him again, listening to the rest of the song.

“Can you play that other one?” Grace asked as Harry continued to play.

“What other one? There are quite a few, Gracie.”

“She means the one about me,” Dax grinned, standing beside the piano with his arms crossed, a massive grin on his face. “Go on, Hazza. Play that one inspired by Sexy Back.”

“Watch your mouth,” Harry hissed through gritted teeth, making his best friend laugh.

“Noooo!” Grace laughed. “The one you wrote after you, me and Y/N went to St Austell. The one about that trip.”

“Ahh, haven’t heard that one before,” Dax said, walking over to sit on the sofa beside the piano, watching the two siblings as they settled in again. Grace pressed one of the keys, looking up at Harry who smiled down at her and shook his head. He took her hand, bringing her finger over to the correct starting note, pressing it down for a long while so she’d get the feel of it. Then, he brought her to the next one, slowly playing the melody out before Grace motioned for Harry to take over for her.

What Harry produced just pressing a couple of keys at just the right moment was so breath-taking that Y/N almost felt dizzy. There was something to this melody that words weren’t ready to properly convey yet, something that was too powerful for a simple human brain to comprehend. Y/N understood why Harry wrote songs now. This melody captured that day perfectly. Her heart knew that melody. It had played that melody itself that day; it had been there with Harry while he came up with it as well.

She was thrown back to walking along St Austell, spending the day in the sunshine with two people that she had come to care so incredibly much for. Thrown back to standing side by side with Harry, talking about music, walking along the market, eating ice cream, laughing till her sides hurt. A lump suddenly appeared in her throat.

“What the fuc-“

“-Dax,” Harry said, stopping immediately. “No.”

“I’ve heard that word before, Harry,” Grace said.

“What, when?!”

“Harry, that was insane,” Dax said, grinning as he stood up from the sofa again. Before Y/N could be noticed, she stepped away from the doorway and walked outside again, feeling every inch of her chest hurting.

“Y/N!” Jo called. “Come in here!” They stood by the grill with a plate filled with food, waving her over so the two of them could walk in together.

She grinned over at Jo as she made her way over, them walking in the direction of the barn together. She waved at people she recognised – Florence from Bessie’s knitting club and Dax’s mum, was one of them. The inside of the barn was decorated with plenty of fairylights, giving the old interior a yellowish and homely glow resembling candlelight. There were small tables and chairs all around so people could sit down to eat, drink, and chat, while a huge screen was positioned by the furthest wall, two microphones attached to what looked to be a high quality karaoke machine of sorts. Jo showed the way and they sat down with the rest, it didn’t take long for Harry, Dax, and Grace to join them. Y/N got out of her chair and tapped Grace on the shoulder.

“Haven’t gotten a hug yet,” Y/N said and Grace jumped off the ground, throwing her arms around Y/N’s neck. She laughed, hugging the little girl to her for a few heavenly seconds before she stepped away. “You look nice today.”

“Nanay told me not to spill anything on it,” Grace said as she gestured at her pink, sparkly dress. “I told her I can’t promise that.”

Y/N chuckled. “You’re doing well so far, I’d say.”

“Thank you!” Grace beamed. “Anyway, Harry’s drinking that drink that makes his breath smell awful.”

“Gracie,” Harry warned from where he now sat beside Ellie, but the little girl did not appear to want to hear what he had to say.

“How can you kiss someone with bad breath, Y/N?” Grace asked and Y/N’s heart dropped at little as she thought about kissing Harry again. How they weren’t going to kiss again. How she wanted to kiss him, but not because they were fake dating. It took everything in Y/N not to look in Harry’s direction, because, judging by his little utterance of his sister’s name before, she knew he must’ve heard this as well.

“You don’t care if they’ve got bad breath if you really want to kiss them,” Y/N answered, giving Grace a smile.

Grace grimaced. “I would never kiss someone if their breath stank.”

“Don’t talk about kissing, you’re seven,” Harry said, sipping his pint.

Y/N raised her eyebrows at Grace and Grace did the same back. At Grace’s instructions, Y/N sat down in her seat so Grace could sit in her lap. Grace watched the people singing intently, sometimes singing along and nodding her head along to the music like she couldn’t help it. It was impossible not to smile at the sight of it, Y/N simply cared for this little creature so much it was hard for her to fully comprehend it. Grace, though young and Harry’s little sister, was the closest thing Y/N had ever come to a sister. They didn’t have a deep connection through thoughtful conversation, but they just understood and went along. There was an emotional and meaningful connection that, though not talked about, had appeared because they enjoyed and appreciated each other’s company.

Grace ran over to a nearby table to get herself some water, leaving Y/N sitting in the chair alone, her lap feeling oddly cold. On the other side of the table, Amir was talking loudly over the karaoke battle that had just begun.

“When I go back up to London for work in two weeks’ time, I feel like I’m just gonna make a right fool of myself, yeah? Normally takes a week for me to turn my weird off after I’ve been home.”

“Gonna be weird when you and Jo are off again,” Ellie said. “Why do you two have to work in London? Why can’t you just stay in St Ives?”

“Bit liberating to leave this place for another one every once in a while, not gonna lie,” Jo admitted, sipping their beer.

“Makes you realise all you’ve missed,” Fatima nodded. “Was the same when I came home for uni breaks, now I’m just really happy I ended up here. Might be underpaid as a teacher, but-“ Fatima shrugged her shoulders. “-I love living and working here, it’s home, after all.”

Y/N hated that she had never experienced that feeling; of coming back to something you had missed. Of coming home.

“Bum that,” Dax said. “I want my mates home at all times! I don’t care you’ve got a job!”

Y/N chuckled, the conversation around them commencing as she looked down at the table, picking at a stain on the table. Grace came back just then, but she didn’t get to sit down before Dax said her name.

“Wanna go up and sing your heart out?”

Grace squealed and took Harry’s hand. Harry downed the rest of his beer and stood up, walking with Grace, Dax, and Amir up to the karaoke machine. Y/N rested her chin in her hand, smiling as she watched the four of them discuss what song to do. It had to be an easy one that Grace already knew, it might be hard to find the correct one. They took some time to decide, but suddenly, the drums to a song Y/N recognised from Harry’s favourite’s playlist started playing. She remembered how Grace really loved that playlist.

“Uptown girl,” Grace sang into the microphone as she perched on Harry’s hip, sharing microphone’s with him. “She’s been living in her uptown world.”

Dax and Amir joined in as well, singing along with Grace who was still unsure of the lyrics but tried to read them as best she could on the screen in front of them. Harry moved them to the music, Dax throwing an arm around Amir’s shoulders as they started singing their hearts out. It was simply impossible not to smile as you watched the four of them, dancing and singing along to Billy Joel’s song.

“God,” Fatima sighed as she scooched her chair closer to Y/N’s. “I wish someone looked at me the way Harry looks at you.”

Y/N halted a little at Fatima’s words, looking in her direction as Amir, Dax, and Grace sang “And now she’s looking for her downtown man, that’s what I am”.

“Pardon?”

Fatima grinned. “Oh, you know-“ She placed her chin in her head, looking off into the distance with exaggerated doe eyes, a dreamy look on her face. For a split second, Y/N’s heart seemed to lurch out of her chest. Harry… Harry looked at her like that? He glanced at her? Surely, Fatima was not being serious and she had simply caught Harry smiling at Grace when she sat in Y/N’s lap.

Y/N laughed. “You’re taking the mick, that’s not how he looks at me.”

“Wouldn’t know, would you? Always happens when you’re not looking.”

“Harry,” Grace said, not even bothering to hold the microphone away as she spoke to him in the middle of the song. “You need to sing, the song’s for Y/N, remember?”

Y/N glanced beyond Fatima and at the group in front of the screen, a rush of adrenaline streaming through her veins. Laughter could be heard throughout the room at Grace’s words, many turning in Y/N’s direction to look at her, all with smiles and curious looks on their faces. At once, Y/N’s face seemed to be too hot for its own good. She bit her bottom lip, continued to watch the gang, ignoring the heat in her cheeks.

Harry seemed to take a deep breath before he started singing with Amir and Dax, both of them doing a miserable job of doing the song any sort of justice. Neither were impressive singers, but Y/N knew Harry was.

“Uptown girl, you know I can’t afford to buy her pearls,” Harry sang, voice so effortlessly breath-taking that Y/N felt like she was doing a pretty good job of imitating the dreamy look Fatima had demonstrated earlier. “But maybe someday when my ship comes in, she’ll understand what kind of guy I’ve been, and then I’ll win.”

Grace joined in then, wrapping her arm around Harry’s shoulder and leaning her head against his. They all continued to sing along to the song, Y/N not paying any sort of attention to the conversation between Fatima, Ellie, and Jo. She watched as the four of them cheered once they were done singing, bowing to the small applause they got before returning to the table.

“I need to go tell nanay!” Grace shouted, running off outside to Jessa and the rest of the family.

Y/N smiled at Harry as he came back, getting a tight-lipped smile back before he picked up his, Dax’s, Amir’s and Jo’s empty beer cans, walking over to get them all a new round. Grace came back with Halo Halo, placing herself on Y/N’s lap as the two ate, talking non-stop. The little one disappeared after a little while, Y/N suspected it was because it was getting rather late. As the night went on, Y/N realised that the only two that would be able to stand by the end of the night were her and Fatima. The others got very drunk, talking loudly about everything insignificant and nothing they would remember in the morning. Harry kept looking at the watch on his wrist, clearly making sure that they got back to his at a good hour so he could report at 3am. When Harry’s speech got a bit more slurred and his eyes a wee hooded, Y/N started looking out for him. Using the time on her phone, she kept an eye out, making sure that Harry returned to his cottage before then so he could sleep off most of his intoxication.

Talking amongst themselves as the rest chatted loudly, Fatima and Y/N agreed that Fatima would be the one to drive everyone home. It would be easier to drop Harry off last as this was his van, and Fatima didn’t live too far away from the lighthouse, the two then decided Y/N would sleep at her place that night, it would be nice just being the two of them. She loved how closed she was getting to Fatima and Ellie. There hadn’t really been a time before when she had made proper good friends, but everyone around that table were currently climbing very fast and very high up on her list of favourite people in the entire world. She genuinely appreciated Fatima’s help with the UCAT reading earlier that week, it had really helped her along, even though the result hadn’t been the best. That was Y/N’s fault though, not Fatima’s teaching skills.

At one point, Dax got all of them up from the table, bringing them over to the screen, telling them over and over again how they needed to do this. Y/N was unsure if they really did, but she didn’t bother telling a very drunk Dax that as he handed out microphones, telling people to share. Y/N scooted up next to Ellie, watching Harry as he put an arm around Jo’s shoulder, patting them as the two of them along with Amir watched Dax search for the song.

“We need to know what song we’re gonna embarrass ourselves to,” Amir exclaimed as Dax was taking his time typing.

“I’m not about to do a Union J song, mate,” Ellie said.

“Alright, I liked one of their songs ten years ago, Ellie!” Dax looked over his shoulder at her, a deep furrow to his brow. “Carry You is a belter!”

“It’s not.”

“Jo, back me up here,” Dax said, turning back to write something into the laptop standing there.

“Dax… don’t make us sing Union J or The Wanted or JLS or anything like that, we don’t need that,” Jo sighed.

“The fact you’re embarrassed about our boyband period in 2013 hurts.” Dax glared at Jo.

“Right, then, what’s the song we’re singing?” Harry shot in, nodding at the laptop again. “We’re just standing here lookin’ stupid now.”

“Looking stupid?” Amir tutted, shaking his head. “Couldn’t be me, mate. Model material, this is. Look like I’m straight off the runway.” He gestured at his body and Fatima feigned throwing up, making the five drunks howl with laughter.

“Ultraviolet, Stiff Dylans.”

Y/N gasped at Dax’s words, bringing her hand up to her chest as the others around just looked at her, afraid something had happened. She grinned at Dax. “That used to be my favourite song!”

This seemed to be shocking news to absolutely everyone.

“What?” Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging was revolutionary.”

“Too right,” Harry said. “But… were you…” He blinked a few times. “Were you even allowed to watch it? Not a film I reckon would’ve been allowed in your house.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say, I used to be a rebel.”

“Yes, Y/N!” Dax grinned, giving Y/N a high five. “Now, bum God Save the Queen, this is Britain’s national anthem! Someone record this, history in the making!”

The familiar music started up and Y/N was taken back to a time when she had a massive crush on Aaron Taylor-Johnson, hiding her obsession with this film from her parents, and listening to this song on repeat. The whole gang started singing, Amir doing a horrible job of keeping up with everyone else, but it was fun to watch him get annoyed with himself for not getting it right. Involuntarily, Y/N’s eyes fell on Harry. He was singing his heart out, sounding better than everyone else, but in his drunken state he seemed to have forgotten some of the lyrics. However, everyone knew the song and it felt very good to be with people she adored, singing a song all of them knew and loved, together. She felt part of something bigger than herself in that moment.

Maybe that was why she did it. Because, looking back, Y/N did not quite know what came over her in that moment, but she loved herself for it. As the song started nearing the end, Y/N took the microphone out of Ellie’s hands and started singing at the top of her lungs, taking absolutely everyone by surprise but she did not care. Ellie started laughing and the rest joined in again towards the end, matching Y/N’s volume.

As she turned around after the song, grinning from ear to ear as she glanced at her friends, basking in their applause and cheers, she caught Harry’s eye. That crooked smile of his was on his face along with a look she wasn’t sure she had ever really seen before, maybe only once. Amusement tangled up with adoration, forming a sort of emotion that had yet to be given a word; someone on the cusp of surrendering themselves completely to the overpowering concept of love, yet still holding back in fear of the unrequited. As soon as their eyes met, Harry looked away, scratching at the back of his neck as he walked back over to their table, everyone following suit.

The time came for them all to leave and Harry gave Y/N the car keys, claiming that he was not fit to drive, though she had not needed him to tell her that. Y/N gave them over to Fatima and all of them made their way over to the van. The night sky was black, brimming with glinting stars and the moon hanging big and yellow over Cornwall, wishing them all a good night. Y/N walked over to Jessa and thanked her for her hospitality, asking her where lolo and Grace were. She explained they’d gone to bed a long time ago, lolo had probably read Grace a bedtime story and fallen asleep himself, he sometimes did that when he stayed the night at the farm.

Y/N ran over to the van, opening the passenger door to see Amir sitting there, a bag in front of him in case he should throw up on the way home. He gave Y/N a peace sign before she closed the door and opened the door into the backseats.

“There you are,” Jo said through a yawn. “Let’s go, Ima.”

“Y/N!” Harry called from further back in the van, making Dax groan and mumble a “shut up, mate” that Harry did not hear. “Y/N! My flower! Come back here, I saved us the whole back backseat!”

Y/N glanced in Fatima’s direction, only to see her friend raise her eyebrows at her, nodding her head. “He made a big fuss.”

“Y/N, come here, I want to tell you something,” Harry said, words slurring a bit. Y/N stepped into the van properly, closing the door behind her before she walked back to Harry, sitting down in the seat right beside him by the window, even though there were three seats in the far back of the car. The car jolted a little as Fatima started driving, steering the car up the gravel round and towards the centre of St Ives.

“What’d you wanna say?” Y/N asked Harry in a hushed voice, hoping he’d mimic her.

“I… I wanted to say something that’s been on my mind for a while now,” he said, whispering back to her, his face mere centimetres from her own. She felt hot all over, adoring their close proximity but also remembering the rule they had made some days ago. As they drove by the white fluorescent streetlights, Harry’s face lit up for a few seconds, making him appear almost angelic. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Okay.”

“It’s got to do with you.”

“Figured as much.”

Harry giggled, looking down at his hands where they rested between his legs, sliding his thumb along his other. “You’re very smart.”

“Thank you.”

“Smartest person I know.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. “I doubt that.”

He pursed his lips as he thought. “You do that a lot.”

“What?”

“Doubt yourself.” He stared back at her, moving a little closer so their sides were flush against one another. “I think you’re great. I’ve never doubted you.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, neither knowing what to say as the world around them seemed to disappear completely. For a single moment, it looked like he was going to tilt his head to the side, almost as if he were getting ready to study her like he had done at Porthgwidden. He stopped himself, staring back at his hands.

“I don’t have any cucumber left,” Harry mumbled, this made Y/N giggle a little. “This ain’t gonna end well for me tonight if I don’t get that cucumber.”

Y/N giggled some more, bringing her hand to her mouth as Harry looked at her again, his crooked smile appearing on his face, dimple showing.

“What?”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re talking about a cucumber when you say it like that,” she said.

“What then?”

“Well… what’s kind of shaped like a cucumber?”

Harry furrowed his brows, thinking hard.

“You have it, I don’t.”

“A cock?” Harry mouthed, looking absolutely gobsmacked that Y/N would suggest such a thing, which made Y/N laugh again.

“Yeah, dildo or summat.”

“Y/N Bernadette Angelica McKay,” Harry gasped, shaking his head as his eyes fell on the road through the window beyond Y/N. “Saucy git.”

“You started it.”

“Well, you made it sexual.” Harry crossed his arms, pretending to roll his eyes to make Y/N laugh, which worked effortlessly. “Wouldn’t mind a dildo, not gonna lie.”

“Harry!”

“What?! It’s the truth!”

Y/N laughed again, watching as Ellie and Jo jumped out of the car once Fatima stopped it, waving at everyone before they started walking in the same direction. Fatima started the car over again just as Jo stumbled and almost face planted, making everyone in the van – including the two outside – crack up. Y/N settled into her own seat, looking down at her thighs as they drove off again, giggling a little to herself as she replayed Jo’s near-death experience in her head.

“I…” Harry started, and when she glanced up at him, he was smiling that very small smile back at her. It was barely there, making his dimples show ever so slightly, and it made every single butterfly in Y/N’s tummy flutter their wings madly. “I love the sound of your laughter.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat.

“It makes me happy.”

She knew that if she continued to look at Harry and he continued to look at her, she would just start feeling more for him. Though she knew it was inevitable, she would fall in love with him sooner or later, she wanted to slow the process out so that she didn’t end up spending too much time with him while she loved him.

“When you said you watched Angus, Thongs earlier, it kinda shocked me a bit,” Harry admitted, talking as if it was all part of his stream of consciousness. “Not that I think you’re innocent or anything like that, you don’t seem innocent- and when I say it like that it sounds weird.”

Y/N bit her lips together, trying not to laugh.

“From what I’ve heard your parents were very strict so…” Harry shrugged his shoulder, looking away from her again. He tilted his head a little to the side as he caught eye of Amir in the front. “Amir! Oi! If you throw up in my van I’m gonna murder you!”

“Shut up, Haz,” Dax groaned. “Y/N, why the fuck is your boyfriend so loud when he’s plastered? Bloody hell.”

“I’m not loud, I’m passionate.”

“About Amir not throwing up in your car?” Dax rolled his eyes. “Brilliant.”

Fatima stopped the car, shouting at Dax to get out and help Amir home. Dax slowly walked around the car and took Amir’s arm over their shoulder, the two walking off as Amir started singing a song that had been sung right before they left the farm. Fatima sat there and watched the two walk up the street, making sure they got inside Amir’s place where Dax would kip before she started driving towards the lighthouse.

The three were quiet for the last part of the drive, Harry seemingly about to doze off all of a sudden, humming Ultraviolet under his breath as they started driving up the gravel path to the lighthouse. Y/N just barely saw the light of the lighthouse before it disappeared, but did not pay any more notice to it as Harry leaned over her, glancing out the window as if to see his house. Once Fatima stopped the car, Harry reached for the seat buckle, fumbling for it in the dark before he finally got free.

“Help me inside?” he asked Y/N, making her lose her words a bit at first in surprise, but she quickly loosened her own seatbelt as Fatima turned around, about to jump out of the van as well.

“Just gonna help him get to bed, it’ll take five minutes,” Y/N told Fatima as Harry slid the backdoor open, getting out of the car.

“Ten if can force a cuddle out of her,” Harry said, chuckling a little to himself as he watched Y/N get out of the car and close the door behind her. She only raised her eyebrows at him, holding her hand out for his keys, which he gave her eagerly. She wanted nothing more than to cuddle him for ten minutes, she’d take cuddles for one minute if that’s all she got, but she knew he was only saying it in front of Fatima to make her believe them even more. He took his time walking to the front door, as if to drag the time out, while Y/N walked on inside, turning the lights on for him. It took some time for him to get his shoes off and while he did that, Y/N looked through his fridge, not seeing any cucumbers but a few tomatoes could maybe do as post-party food.

Harry put his rucksack with his camera down by the sofa, strolling over to the bathroom to do whatever he needed to do. Y/N put the tomato on the counter, making Harry a glass of water like he had made her last time and putting that along with the tomato on the dining table. Once he walked out of the bathroom, he rubbed at his eyes, giving Y/N a smile as their eyes met.

“Are you staying?”

“No, I… I’m going home with Fatima.”

Harry nodded. “You two…?”

Y/N chuckled some, feeling her cheeks get a little hot as she shook her head. “No, we’re friends. I’m kipping at hers.”

“Okay, good.” Harry nodded, biting the corner of his upper lip as he said, “I don’t like it when you’re alone.”

“Why not?”

“Because of what you said about your dad, that he was a bad man and all that.”

Y/N felt a sort of panic rise in her chest and she looked out the still open door, seeing Fatima sit by the stone fence circling the lighthouse, watching its lights. Harry yawned, lying down in his bed and glancing over at Y/N, his eyes trailing down her body. She felt herself blushing, both because Harry was staring at her like that and she did not want to talk about her dad, especially not while Harry was drunk.

“Can you stay?” His voice was soft, speaking with a meaning that went beyond the cottage and tonight.

“I’m going with Fatima.”

“I want you to stay, flower.”

She wanted to lay down next to him, slide her hand through his hair and watch as he closed his eyes, smiling ever so slightly and humming in total and utter contentment. Fall asleep next to him, feel his breath on her skin again, know that he was there to protect her if anything were to happen. She suddenly remembered how safe she had felt waking up here, how she had never slept as good as she did that single night she spent at Harry’s cottage. Never again would she feel like that, Y/N realised. Once she left St Ives in a couple of weeks, all the safeness and the sense of belonging would be ripped away from her. It would surely be like someone ripping off her arm.

Harry sat up in his bed as if he sensed a shift in the air around them, looking up at Y/N with slight worry but also a sort of desperation, silently asking her to please consider his offer. God, in that very second, it was very hard to resist him. Because when he looked at her like that, so attentive, so devoted to everything she did, she simply wanted to do nothing but lay down next to him and do what he asked. But she couldn’t, and with each passing second where they just looked at one another, the tension between them grew and she felt goosebumps up her back. She cleared her throat some.

“You wanted to tell me something earlier, was that it?” Y/N asked, wanting to get them talking about something else.

“What?”

“In the van, when I entered it, you said you had something to say, what did you have to say?”

“Oh,” Harry said as if suddenly remembering. He glanced away suddenly, scratching at the back of his neck. “No, it was… I wanted to tell you that… I know we haven’t spent much time together since the whole… since Terraland… last Saturday- so like, a week ago…”

She nodded, encouraging him to keep going.

“I’m sorry for that. I don’t… The last thing I’d ever do is hurt your feelings or make you uncomfortable.”

“I know, Harry.”

“I just…” He watched her, taking in every single one of her movements as if he would forget what she looked like when she left. “You and me, you know… we were sitting there together and… you were so pretty when we sat there at Porthgwidden, I couldn’t… I had to kiss you. Spur of the moment kind thing, I suppose.”

Y/N did not want to look at him, did not want to hear him say anything else. Had all the nice things he had said at the beach also been just “spur of the moment” then? So nothing was real? Not that she had thought it was, but that kind of just underlined it, didn’t it? She didn’t know what to think anymore, everything was so blurry, nothing seemed to really make sense. Everything was for the fake relationship, it always was.

“Y/N!” Fatima called from outside, Y/N glanced at her. “Say goodbye so we can leave!”

When she glanced back at Harry, Harry seemed to get a little desperate, not wanting her to leave just yet. But Y/N couldn’t stay.

“Y/N,” Harry said, maybe realising that what he’d said might’ve been a bit much. “I-I didn’t mean it like that.”

She gave him a smile. “We’ll talk soon, yeah?”

Harry just nodded, and she walked out the door and toward Fatima who was smiling at her. With one last glance over her shoulder, she saw Harry in the window over his dining table, looking out after Y/N and Fatima as they walked along the gravel path toward town. His hand was resting by the tomato she had laid there for him, hoping that it could somehow be a good second to his usual cucumber tradition after nights out. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest as a slight cold breeze blew past them and Fatima audibly shivered.

“Yeah, would you look at that,” Fatima said as Y/N glanced her way. “Left me out in the wind, you did. Now I’m freezing.”

Y/N laughed, nudging Fatima’s shoulder with her own. The two friends went on back to Fatima’s place, acting as two old friends would.

Monday, 3 August

This was the first time Y/N had ever witnessed rain in St Ives since she arrived in June. It was not pouring down as one would assume after a long drought, a slight pitter-patter fell onto the grass around her as she walked along the gravel path, falling onto the hood of the yellow rain coat she was wearing. The sky was a dull grey, not something one should be worrying about, but there were a few darker clouds hovering somewhere in the horizon and she was sure that with this high of a temperature and the promise of pouring rain later on, lightning would occur as well.

Once she reached the lightkeeper residence, she knocked three times, waited a minute for Harry to open, then peeked her head in when he didn’t. Harry was sat by the dining table, looking through an instruction manual in front of him, frowning down at the pages as if he was reading a language he did not understand. At the sound of the door opening, he looked in Y/N’s direction, giving her a little smile.

“Saw you approach just now,” he said before looking down at the manual before him again.

“So you didn’t bother opening the door for me?” she asked, smiling over at him, but Harry did not answer. This was what she had been afraid of.

Ever since the karaoke and barbeque night at the farm, Harry had not met her gaze. Whenever she had come over to study, he wouldn’t spend too long in the cottage with her and he would rarely make her tea as he usually did. There was something not subtly cold, but different. He still welcomed her to sit in his windowsill and would still talk to her, but he wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t stay around for long enough so they could talk properly. Y/N had tried, even suggested they go down to the Bakery to buy a pasty and walk around St Ives, go to the Candy Shoppe, or to the pub to have a few pints, but Harry had turned down all her offers, told her they could do it another time. He never really gave an explanation for why he didn’t want to hang out and Y/N was afraid of asking for one. But they had to talk. She didn’t want to go on like this, especially when Harry had come to mean so much to her.

“What’re you up to, then?” She took her coat and boots off, walking over to where Harry was seated by the dining table.

“I’m about to change the bulbs before it starts getting dark out and the lamp’s turned on,” he explained, furrowing his brows as he ran his finger over the page, concentrating on reading a specific line. Y/N stayed silent as not to disturb anything. He got up from the chair, sipping the last of his tea before he shoved the manual down in the back pocket of his denim shorts. He slipped his red knitted jumper over his Elton John tee shirt, the same one he had given to Y/N to wear after Dax’s birthday party when she slept over for the first time.

“Can I help?” she asked, giving him a smile she hoped he’d lay his eyes on her to see.

And he did, lips parting a little as if he was surprised by the suggestion. This puzzled Y/N as she had always expressed her willingness to help him, no matter what.

“Go on, then.” Harry nodded. “Just needed a cuppa before I started, it’s well past 6 after all.”

“You’re going to bed soon?”

“Yeah, and the lamp gets turned on in about an hour.”

Y/N smiled as he walked past her. “You’ve been procrastinating all day, have you?”

“Not all day.”

She laughed and she thought she saw the flicker of a smile on Harry’s lips at the sound.

“I’ve done other things as well, but I need this done now and quickly.”

Y/N nodded, putting her rain boots back on as Harry got his trainers on, the two then jogging in the direction of the lighthouse as not to get soaked in the rain that was starting to fall harder around them. Harry held the door open for her, then locked it once they were both inside. They started their ascent, Harry leading them past his little office floor, past the bedroom like room, up and up and up, till they finally reached the bell room. Even though Y/N was wearing a short white sundress with her green oversized boxy high-neck jumper along with her mid-calf black rain boots, she walked up the ladder leading to the bell room. She remembered how she had been reluctant to walk up wearing a dress that first time, but now she didn’t really care. Harry needed to change the bulbs and she said she was going to help.

Along the way, Harry had brought a toolbox with him, placing it up on the floor of the bell room before he walked up the ladder, letting Y/N go on up after him. For some reason it shocked Y/N when she came up to see that the lamp – the only thing inside the bell room – was not moving. She had imagined that the light in lighthouses moved around, and though Harry had explained what offshore and shore-based lighthouses were, the pattern of a lighthouse and the like, he hadn’t really explained how the lamp worked.

“It doesn’t rotate,” she said, walking up to the relatively small lamp in the middle of the room.

Harry was rummaging through his toolbox, stopping momentarily as he glanced over his shoulder at Y/N, unsure what she was referring to first, then let his eyes fall to the lens. “It flashes.”

Y/N furrowed her brows, walking around the lens to get a good look at it, studying the ridges and different colours of it, blank and red. “flashes?”

Harry pulled a screwdriver out of the toolbox and started working on the screws around the lamp. “It’s to identify it when it’s dark out, sailors can’t make out the white lighthouse when it’s night-time.”

“Makes sense.”

“Most lighthouses, especially shore-based ones like Clodgy, rhythmically flash or eclipse their lights to provide an identification signal. The particular pattern of flashes or eclipses is known as the character of the light, and the interval at which it repeats itself is called the period.” Harry tipped the plastic lens to reveal the five lightbulbs under it; Y/N was surprised to see it wasn’t made of glass. She supposed it was more convenient. “Essentially, a lighthouse may display a single flash, regularly repeated at perhaps 5-, 10-, or 15- seconds intervals. This is known as a flashing light. Clodgy is one of them.”

“What are these then?” Y/N asked, pointing to the red streaks.

“Basically, if someone is on sea and they are driving in the direction of sharp rocks or land, they’ll see a red light flashing instead of a normal, yellow one.”

“Danger, danger.”

Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out a box and putting it on the little space underneath the lamp.

“How many bulbs are there?” Y/N asked, looking at the different ones all attached to a round object in the middle of the lens.

“Five, they usually don’t have to be changed out. You gotta do so every 15-25 years, depending. This little thing-“ Harry pointed to the small bulb between them. “Lights up 15 miles using these lenses. It’s incredible.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, seeing a tiny and amused smile on his face as he talked. This was the most she had heard him talk in over a week; it made her heart do a silly fluttery thing.

“When one of these five bulbs go out, the apparatus knows that the bulb no longer works and it will rotate and-“ Harry placed his finger on the side of the bulb, rotating it to the right so that the apparatus turned, clicking as another bulb fit into place at the top. “-Click to a new bowl, it’s on automation and all that. So, we rarely change the bulbs.”

She bit her bottom lip as she watched him, not able to help herself. It was just so endearing to watch him like this, so amazing to hear him talking so unfiltered to her again. Right then, talking about bulbs and apparatuses and what not, he was so engulfed, so eager to tell her everything, that he did not care how he sounded. He was comfortable. She could tell.

He must’ve noticed how he rambled off, because he cleared his throat and stood up straight again, running a hand through his hair as a slight pink colour appeared in his cheeks. He quickly started to change the first bulb, putting a new on in its stead. Y/N just watched him, finding the sound of Harry working, the slight clicks, the quiet patter of the rain against the windows surrounding them, very relaxing. He seemed to be relaxed as well, so she thought this might be the best time as any.

Inhaling slowly, she leaned her hands on either side of the slight counter the lamp was standing on. She looked over it at Harry, his bottom lip between his teeth as he put the second bulb in its new place.

“Harry, we…” she started, swallowing thickly. “We need to talk about… things.”

Harry sighed. “Yes. Yes, we do.”

Knowing he felt the same way about that made it easier to breathe for a reason. At least she wasn’t going into this the same way she had been going into the Emilia situation after Dax’s birthday.

He started on the third bulb as he started talking, beating Y/N to it. “I, uhm… I want to tell you about my dad.”

This came as a shock to Y/N who was left raising her eyebrows at him for a second or two before saying, “Yeah, alright.”

He glanced up at her over the lightbulb. “You didn’t see it coming?”

“We’ll talk about your dad first,” Y/N gave him a reassuring smile. “We have time. We’ll always have time.”

“But that’s the thing…” Harry trailed off, switching out the fourth bulb, not meeting her eyes. “We don’t. If there’s one thing we won’t always have, it’s time. There won’t ever be enough time spent with your loved ones, there just won’t. No matter how much time you spend or how much time you spent with someone, you’ll always want more time. Always. What you got is never enough.”

The rain outside fell a little harder against the windows of the bell room, the wind a little harsher.

“Two years ago, my dad went on a fishing trip. He usually did this, took a few of his mates and then set off out wherever. They were never gone for more than a day tops, they always returned at night with tons of fish and I remember how Jessa would be so delighted and then invite our whole family over for barbecues and the like.” He paused as he started on the fifth and last bulb. “One day, September 4th to be exact, he didn’t return. Jessa and I sat up for hours waiting for signs of him. She started calling the spouses of the others on the boat, no one else had returned either.”

Y/N absolutely hated that she knew where this was going but she hadn’t told Harry that yet.

“Dax ended up sleeping at the lightkeeper house with me for a month and some after that, just didn’t want me to be alone, you know? He’s sound like that.” Once he was done putting the bulb in place, he reached for the lens and put it back where it belonged. “I think most of my mates and the people in my family’s life tried to keep our minds off it, ‘cause the more days went by, the more likely it was that… you know… he was dead.”

Harry sighed, reaching for the screwdriver, taking a little pause in talking as he screwed everything back into place. Y/N took a few steps back, watching him do his job and make himself ready to talk again.

“The boat was found October 14th, no one and nothing was in it.” Harry still wouldn’t look at her, put the screwdriver back in the toolbox and kept his back to her for a few seconds before turning around again. The bell room was starting to get relatively dark; she supposed the light would turn on soon, and she could barely make out the slight glassy expression in Harry’s eyes.

“I went absolutely mad. There are big chunks of time that I don’t even remember from that time, my brain has just… erased it from my memory, it was the darkest period of my life. They didn’t find any of the passengers’ bodies, there were three of them as well. It had been a turbulent and stormy night, so a sea storm took them out, drowned them all. But I… I…” Harry inhaled hugely, breathing shakily. “I didn’t… I still kinda don’t want… want to believe it. My dad is laying somewhere, far away from me, far away from Jessa, Gracie, from… from home…” He looked down at the ground, blinking rapidly. “It doesn’t fucking feel real. It’s not supposed to happen. This… He was a good sailor; he didn’t drown at sea.”

Y/N felt something starting to sting behind her eyes, she bit her bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. The storm outside seemed to pick up, sounding rougher than a minute before.

“I took over after him because I thought… I thought that, if no one else could, I could help him find the way home. I could shine that light; I’d take care of the lighthouse till he came back home. I’d show him the way, I’d light up the path for him, and he’d come home to me again. Where he belonged, where he should’ve been all along.” He took a deep breath, slowly looking up again, eyes falling to the lamp in the middle of the room. “It was a way for me to ignore the fact that he was truly dead. He wouldn’t come back. I didn’t really… I didn’t realise how… I didn’t realise how true it was that my dad, my constant, was gone, until Emilia left as well.”

Y/N furrowed her brows, a sort of rage filling her again. She had never been this angry before. There was something burning inside her, a sort of desire to protect Harry from everything evil in the world. No one deserved to hurt, but Harry least of everyone.

“I met Emilia at one of Astronaut Lions’ gigs the year before. I remember standing at the bar and she came up to me, asked me if I was Amos’ son – that’s my dad’s name, by the way - to which I said yes, and she told me her dad used to lend my dad and his mates his fishing boat sometimes. My dad and hers knew each other. So, we got talking, and, I want to say it’s ‘cause our dads knew each other, we got pretty close, pretty fast.”

Talking about Emilia brought Y/N’s gagging reflex into full force, but she composed herself.

“When my dad died, she was around, but not as often as Dax, Amir, Jo, Fatima, Ellie, or my family. She visited and stuff, kept me occupied, but the gang spent a lot of time at my place, occasionally rotating. It was nice, I didn’t want to be alone. I love being alone, but I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts then.”

Harry leaned against the window, eyes falling to the floor. Y/N continued to stand where she had, watching Harry carefully.

“We had been together for a year and some then. We hadn’t really fought much, I don’t really like confrontation, it makes me very uncomfortable, so I usually just let her say what she wanted to say if she was annoyed with me and didn’t bother arguing. Fatima kept telling me how unfair it was on her and our relationship, and also on myself, that I never really stood up for myself when we fought. It’s, like… I wanted it to work out so much that I wanted to ignore the things that didn’t. I didn’t want to do something that might cause us to break up.” He sighed heavily. “We were good for each other, we did have some good times, and she was my first ever proper girlfriend that broke my heart, but… but these last few weeks I’ve come to realise that she never really wanted what was best for me the way all my mates did.”

Y/N wanted to walk over to him and hug him. She wanted to console him; tell him she was there if he needed anything.

“I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about that part of my life, you know? I’m aware that breaking up with someone ‘cause they’re bad for your mental health is valid, but what she did really affected me. It made the grieving process worse. I had never really felt truly alone till then.” He furrowed his brows some. “I didn’t have dad; I didn’t have Emilia… I knew I had my mates, but… Emilia and dad meant so much to me, losing them both in such a short period of time… broke me.”

Y/N swallowed a lump in her throat, hoping he couldn’t hear how sad his story made her. “Harry, you don’t have to elaborate if it’s hard for you.”

“No, you deserve to know. Emilia’s back, you’re my… my supposed girlfriend and you… I want you to know.”

Y/N nodded, clutching at the hem of her jumper.

“I know it was a naff move on my part when I went with her to get her that cup, I know I should have understood why you were rightfully upset right away, I know I shouldn’t have been too friendly when she came to Terraland…” Trailing off, he balled his hands into fists at his sides. “The reason why I’ve been so reluctant to push her out of my life is… I know it’s fucking mental; I know I sound right mad, yeah? But… I figured that if she could return, then maybe… then maybe dad…” Harry didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to.

Y/N shook her head as the only thing in the bell room that was audible was the sound of the rain and wind outside, sounding eerie and strong against the top of the lighthouse. “It’s not mental. It’s a very valid and normal reaction to grief, clinging onto the last shred you have of someone, hoping that one day they might come back to you.”

Harry looked at her feet, not ready to meet her eyes yet.

“My dad and I have never been close. I used to love being around him when I was little, I remember associating him with goodness and warmth. He would play with me and make me laugh, do things that my mum hated him for.”

“Like?”

“Throw me in the air, let me jump from a bunk bed and onto the mattress on the floor below, that sort of thing.” Y/N almost smiled at the memory. She hadn’t thought about that in ages. “However, as I grew up, my dad just got colder. He was still nice to me, was still protective and a dad, but he wasn’t the same.”

Y/N could tell by the slight breath Harry inhaled that he wanted to ask what changed but stopped himself. She was grateful he did. She could not go that far just yet.

“But… though it’s not the same as you, I respected my dad’s wishes to stay in Winchester and do as my mum; become a stay-at-home mum who didn’t need education or anything like that. He wanted me to marry well and learn how to be a mum; learn how to be safe at home and mostly indoors at all times.” She furrowed her brows some. “I believed him when he told me I wouldn’t be fit to become a dentist.” She paused for a moment. “You know when you’re scared, and you believe every word your parents say to you ‘cause you don’t know what else to do? They’re older, wiser, got more experience, so of course they know better than you, they know the best thing to do in any given situation.”

Harry nodded slightly.

“Before… Before I came to St Ives, I hadn’t really parted from my family at all. It wasn’t really like I had a choice. They were just always there, and I was expected to be there, too. I was terrified when I left; not only didn’t my parents know I was leaving, but I had just disappointed them in every way possible anyway, so I… I couldn’t stay there.” Her eyes fell on the lamp that yet hadn’t turned on.

Harry cleared his throat, eyes still on the lens in the middle of the room. “Your parents don’t know you’re here?”

“They do now.”

“You told them?”

Y/N felt her heart pick up its speed, she swallowed thickly, continuing to avoid Harry’s eyes. “What I’m trying to get at is that I haven’t, and probably won’t, tell them about the UCAT, or the fact that I’m trying to become a dentist. Part of me wishes that I did, but I know the reaction I’m gonna get… And the other part of me… That part is longing for that loving and warm father to return, the one that helped me fly when I was little.” She leaned against the window. “It’s not the same as you by any means, but it’s-“

“-It’s just as valid, Y/N.”

She shook her head some, looking out at the tall waves below. “You ever get the feeling that, no matter what, you won’t really be good enough, and you settle down with that thought? It’s not this hopeless feeling, but rather you’re just… content with that. You’re average so you’ll get average back.”

“You’re not average.”

She looked over at him, and for what seemed like the first time that day, their eyes met.

“Did your parents make you feel that horrible about yourself?”

Y/N crossed her arms. “In what way?”

“That you were average? Not destined for good things? That you didn’t deserve proper happiness?”

“I was satisfied with life in Winchester.”

“Satisfaction and happiness are two vastly different things.”

It seemed like he wanted to take a step forward but stopped himself, taking a deep breath before settling against the window again. Y/N pushed slightly away from the wall, standing closer to the light.

“It’s like the whole thing with me and Emilia again, innit? There were times when I was happy with her, but I think that’s more to do with the fact that I knew she was there. I could always rely on her. But bottom line is that being with her didn’t bring me instant and constant happiness like-“ He stopped himself, as if remembering there were things he wasn’t supposed to say. “She didn’t make me happy like she should’ve. I was satisfied.”

“Isn’t being at peace good? If someone or something brings you peace, isn’t that good?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders some. “There are different kinds, though. Your life and the people in it should be able to make you feel something, you know? Not being excited to see someone or to be somewhere or to do something, it does nothing. You don’t grow if you’re satisfied ‘cause you’re not moving, you’re not evolving.”

“Being happy isn’t a constant, though. You can’t always be happy, sometimes you’re just… not.”

“How boring would life be if you felt the same way, did the same things, saw the same people every single day? How boring would it be without change?”

Y/N felt herself smiling. “You’re a lighthouse keeper, you do the same things every single day.”

“I don’t, though,” he said. “I might be stuck here in St Ives most of the time, but I never do the same thing every single day. And besides…” He trailed off, biting his bottom lip some. “Besides life’s been anything but ordinary lately.”

Y/N glanced at her arms in front of her. “I… I hated change.”

“You don’t anymore?”

“To a degree,” she said. “I’m happy with the decision I made to leave my old life behind, but now… now I don’t really know what to do. I’m going to apply for University, but what if I’m too old? I’m 25, way older than everyone else there will be, and I… I dunno. I feel like I have to figure myself out all over again now that I don’t have my parents around me anymore, it’s like I don’t know who I am. Once this summer is over and I leave St Ives – ‘cause St Ives, you, and everyone here, are genuinely what’s keeping me together right now – I… I dunno how I’m going to survive. Will I have myself when I don’t even know who I am? Is it too late for me to get a fresh start? Who- Who will be there to help guide me in the right direction if I have no one in my life?”

There was no trace of hesitation as Harry said, voice deep and low, “You’ll always have someone.”

“Will I? I feel lost, Harry.” She blinked a few times, hoping to prevent possible tears from falling. “I’m so lost. Where do I even go from here? I don’t and can’t go back to how life used to be, where do I go?”

“Don’t go.”

She glanced up at him, the lamp beside them suddenly coming to life with a massive blink. Though the suddenness of the light had scared her, Harry’s words had been what got her heart racing. The light blinked in the direction of the sea, the other side from where they stood so Y/N couldn’t see it directly, only the dark back that was facing the mainland. However, she could not care less for the light as Harry stared back at her, right into her eyes, for the first time in what seemed like forever. She felt herself relax at the sight of him, but his words still reverberated through her head, making it spin slightly.

“What?”

“Don’t go,” he repeated, stepping away from the window. “Stay.”

Her arms fell to her sides. “You… You want me to stay in St Ives?”

It took a few seconds, as if he was building up the courage to say something he thought was obvious, but, seemingly, not so obvious to Y/N. “Yes.”

“But I…” She trailed off, blinking a few times as if she were trying to regain composure. “You’ve never said.”

“’Cause I’ve always been afraid of your reaction.”

“My… my reaction?”

“If it would scare you.”

“Why would that scare me?”

“’Cause someone telling you they care for you more than… more than they care for anyone else, and you not feeling the same way… I don’t want to scare you.”

Y/N was sure she had not heard him right. And if she had, she must have misinterpreted his statement, because surely he had not just said what she thought he said. The light blinked its usual pattern, lighting up the darkening bell room as the two just stood staring at one another.

“I thought you only felt like that for Emilia.”

Harry frowned, shaking his head as if what he��d just heard was absurd. “Emilia?”

“Well, then… then that you used to feel like that for her, that you two used to be close. I’ve been jealous of that, after all.”

“You’ve been jealous?” Harry’s eyes were wide, intently staring at Y/N as she continued to explain. “How do you mean?”

“Dunno…” Y/N said, knowing that she probably sounded like an absolute plonker. “You’ve always seemed pretty caught up on her. That you still have feelings for her.”

He studied her, mouth falling shut as he let his eyes scan her face, saying a soft, “I don’t.”

“But- But why do you blush when she’s around, then?”

At the mention of him blushing, a red colour appeared in his cheeks and he glanced away for a few seconds, running his hands through his hair. Y/N could not help a small smile on her lips, biting at the corner of her mouth to stop herself from doing so.

“I get flustered, don’t I? It’s not like I can help it,” Harry explained, gesturing at his face as he took a few steps forward. “She’s my ex, it’s weird being around her.”

“You act so shy, though. Isn’t that how you are around people you’re nervous in front of?”

“I acted like that with you as well, did you notice?”

Y/N felt a breath hitch in her throat, something about Harry admitting this made her entire body hot. Part of her did not believe this could be true, it was just too good, while the other urged her to keep going, see what happened next. She shook her head slightly. “I-I dunno.”

“I was so bloody nervous,” Harry said, chuckling a little to himself. “It was genuinely hard for me to form sentences ‘cause I didn’t want to make a right twit of myself, yeah? I just… I wanted to impress you so bad, but it was so hard.”

She pressed her lips together, heart hammering hard, hands feeling clammy with anticipation.

“I’m not nervous around you anymore, though.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I feel safe with you now. I don’t care that I make a fool of myself ‘cause you won’t mind.”

She smiled a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He gestured around him with a soft jerk of his chin. “You’re a light room.”

Y/N wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but stopped herself when their eyes met again. She wanted to walk to him, to be near him.

“It’s like…” Harry started, pausing for a few seconds before he went on. “It’s weird being around someone you thought meant a lot to you and you realise they didn’t. But with you… that’s…” He glanced at the ground again, tugging at the hem of his red jumper. “It’s different.”

She continued to just look at him, afraid that if she said anything he would stop.

“It’s… it’s like I… like-“ He cleared his throat, suddenly blushing uncontrollably, and it was as if he knew how ridiculous he must look because he let out a small laugh. “You were the prettiest woman I’d ever seen and I wanted to impress you, I didn’t want to embarrass myself and have you not want to be around me anymore.”

His eyes fell to her feet, moving up over her bare legs, landing on her tummy as he continued to find the words lost somewhere within him. He took a deep breath.

“I’m not good with words, so explaining how much you mean to me is hard, but I know that I… that you…” He drifted off again, meeting her eyes. “You were the person I wanted to be in the arms of at Terraland, when I was all shaken up ‘cause of that ride, not Emilia, no one else but you. And you’re the only person I want to be in the arms of right now, tomorrow, and probably every single day after that. I like it when you hold me, when you’re around. That’s all I know.” His eyes fell to her lips for a second, meeting her eyes as if he remembered that was forbidden territory. She had said as much. “I like it when we touch, everything seems at once much simpler but also so much more important and grander because of you.”

Biting her bottom lip, Y/N walked closer to Harry, and at the sight, he took two more steps closer as well, meeting right beside the lamp that was still occasionally lighting up the bell tower and the entire coast along with it. Standing right there in front of one another, something that could only resemble magic passed between them and circled around them, drawing them closer to one another. They were meant to be close, meant to be right here, with one another. It was wrong to be anywhere else than with Harry. She didn’t feel as lost when he was here; there was a sense of reason, of purpose, when they were together that was so great to the point of invention, there was no other way of explaining it. This, what was between then, was beyond anything. Limitless, unfathomable, immeasurable; infinite.

“I want to touch you,” Y/N said, her voice almost a whisper as she, once again, glanced at his lips.

“Touch me. Please.”

Slowly and gentler than she had ever been before, she placed her hand to his cheek, thumb stroking over the slight stubble before she slid the tips of her fingers to the back of his jaw and then forth again. He closed his eyes, leaning into her.

“Please, touch me,” he repeated, the breath of his pleading words falling against her hot wrist. “Never stop.”

She studied his face, loving the calming effect she had on him because it matched the one he had on her. Though he made her heart race and had her overthinking everything, he calmed her down and made her feel at peace. Exhilarated her and confused her; overwhelmed her and elated her. He made her feel everything all at once, and Y/N thought at last, wasn't that what love really was? When you felt like the feelings inside your body transcended everything, made you see everything around you in a new light? When it changed your world for the better?

Y/N’s hand slid down Harry’s cheek and his neck, and at the change, he opened his eyes to look at her again. She took another step forward, leading him toward her as her eyes fell to his lips, meeting his eyes as they hovered dangerously close to one another. The light blinked on and Y/N pressed her lips against Harry’s. They melted into each other instantly. Harry placed one of his hands to her neck and the other one to her hip, bringing her closer. She breathed against him, the rest of the world around them disappearing completely as they drew out the kiss.

His tongue traced her bottom lip, making a shiver run up her spine. Gently, she slipped her tongue into his mouth, making sure she did not overwhelm him, that it was okay. He instantly complied, stroking his against hers, swirling his around hers sensually, lighting Y/N on fire. She moaned into him, gripping at the hair at the back of his neck as their mouths opened wider, welcoming more of the other to enter and entrance them completely. She ran her other hand over his chest, wrapping it around him, while Harry’s slid down along her back, stopping just before he reached her bum, squeezing her a little as if he wasn’t mentally ready to go down there just yet tonight. The bell room continued to illuminate up, shining its guiding light out across the ocean, helping sailors home and to their final destinations. However, neither Y/N nor Harry could even remember where they really were as they continued to kiss one another. She felt his moan on her tongue, a slight whimper that he had not been able to hold back as they deepened the kiss. They instantly got more frantic; desperate, harder. She pushed against him more forcefully, wanting to taste and feel all of him.

For an instant, and what felt like for the first time since they had known each other, Harry took control. He pressed her against the bar with the lamp, keeping one hand on her neck, thumb at her chin, and the other on her waist. She gasped at the suddenness, her entire body aflame as Harry kissed along her jaw, tilting her head as to get better access. She could not help the contented sigh that left her lips, pushing him even closer to her, wrapping her left leg around his right one as to ensure he did not step away from her.

He whispered her name against her neck, leaving wet kisses along the skin that was exposed and that he could reach without removing the high neck of her jumper. He kissed the tip of her jaw, sucking lightly, and she could not hold back her whimper. It seemed to have had an effect on him that she herself had not anticipated, yet absolutely adored. Between them, pressed against her tummy, she could feel him. It seemed to have startled him as well, maybe not having anticipated it to happen that quickly, but he kissed along her neck again, seemingly not really caring anymore. He wanted her to know just how much power she held over him. He came back to her face, lips hovering above hers. They panted against one another, not letting each other go as the rain outside picked up, thunder rumbling in the distance, and the light that Y/N was pressed up again kept lighting up the ocean ahead.

“I, uhm…” Harry stared down, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry ‘bout… that.”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head slightly. “Don’t apologise for that.” She brought her leg further up, twining it more around him to bring him closer. As if it was instinctual, Harry reached for her thigh, helping her bring it up to his waist. She let out another sigh, loving how he drew closer to her in the process of yanking her leg up higher. Their eyes met again, and she leaned her forehead against his.

“I thought we agreed on a ‘no kissing rule’,” Harry mumbled, lips brushing against hers as he spoke. “I thought you didn’t want to kiss me.”

“I want to kiss you; I just don’t want it to be part of our fake relationship.”

“This has nothing to do with that.” He moved to kiss her again and spoke against her lips. “I need to ask you, though, before anything more happens.”

She watched him, the sight of him slightly blurry but she did not care.

“There’s… There’s a bed… downstairs if you'd be interested in… you know…”

She smiled.

“In what?”

Harry smiled, giggling a little as he leaned his forehead against hers again. “I don’t want there to be mixed signals, so I’m just… I’m just gonna fucking say it.”

“Say it.”

He gripped her knee tighter. “Do you want to have sex with me? ‘Cause I… I mean, it’s not the sexiest way to go about it, just asking like that, but I… it’s very obvious that I would like- very much like to… you know, if you’d like. I don’t want to-“

She chuckled and Harry stopped talking, smiling at her. “I think asking is very sexy. Mixed signals aren’t sexy.”

“You’re right.”

She leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his lips.

“Flower,” he mumbled, voice rasping ever so slightly, making heat instantly pool between her thighs. “Would you let me make you feel good?”

“Do you think you can?”

Harry met her eyes, a crooked smile coming to his lips. “I’ve had no complaints before.”

“No complaints from Emilia?”

A slight furrow appeared between his brows before it lifted, his smile came back and it got wider. “You really were jealous of her.”

“She got to be close to you.”

“Well,” Harry said, eyes fluttering to her lips. “You’re close to me now. You’re closer to me than anyone’s ever been before.”

Y/N squeezed him closer, biting her lip before she said, “Yes.”

“You… you want to go downstairs?”

“Yes.”

Harry’s smile grew so wide it was hard for him to fight just how giddy he was getting at her words. He stepped away from her, taking her hand in his. They left the blinking bell room, climbing down the ladder, Harry securing the hatch before he turned to face Y/N again. Once they were in the near darkness of that room, they kissed again, desperate to feel one another again. This happened almost on every single floor – pressing each other up against a wall, needy to feel, to taste, to be close – as they could simply not help themselves.

Once they reached the floor, Y/N instantly recognised the door and where they were headed. On her first trip to the lighthouse, she had seen a bed in that room, the door had been half open, but Harry had closed it on their way down. Now, Harry opened it for her, letting her inside. It was tiny. A twin bed stood at the far end, its white sheets made neatly over it, while the desk – which stood perched right under a small window that was being attacked by harsh rain - was filled with photographs of Harry’s family. Him, Amos, Jessa, and Grace. There was a dresser with a vase on top, a bouquet of dead flowers in it that it seemed Harry had forgotten completely about.

Harry closed the door behind them. “This used to be my dad’s room. When it was stormy, he’d stay in here. The door sometimes opens on its own, logically I know it’s just a draught, but…” He shrugged his shoulders and Y/N knew what he meant.

Instead of focusing on that – because they could talk about this in the morning – Y/N said, “Kiss me.”

Harry wasted no time. He marched over to her, pressing his lips hard against hers as he started walking her backwards toward the bed. He let her lay down first, taking her rain boots off before she wiggled up to the top, watching as Harry crawled his way up to her, hovering his lips over hers as to tempt her. She tried to lean up to kiss him since he was taking too long, but he moved further away.

“Twat.”

He chuckled, grinning down at her. “How long do you think you can stand not kissing me?”

She brought her hand up to his neck, bringing him down towards her lips. They kissed again – finally. She felt Harry smile against her lips.

“Needy.”

“You were taking too long.”

“You just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

She wanted to roll her eyes at him, but he was correct. She wrapped her legs around him, bringing his core down onto hers. Harry groaned into her; his erecting cock pressed against her heat. He melted into her instantly, burying his hands in her hair.

“Neither can you,” she whispered back, making Harry let out a breathy chuckle.

“I also just want to make it clear,” he said against her lips. “If anything I do is not working, doesn’t do anything for you, doesn’t feel good, or if you want to try something new, a new position or anything like that, tell me, yeah?”

She smiled, nodding her head as they kept kissing. “Yeah. Same goes for you.”

“Do you have a favourite position?”

Y/N froze a little, thinking to herself and blushing when Harry looked down at her.

“What?” he asked.

“I’ve… only ever really done two.”

“Two… positions?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fine, did you enjoy them?”

“Yeah, I did. Sex was never really been about enjoyment as much as it was about closeness.”

Harry furrowed his brows. “You should enjoy sex, Y/N.”

“I know, I know. I just… I used to set fire to myself to keep others warm. I realised that was not what I should be doing, which is why I ended up in St Ives. With you. Here.”

Harry leaned down again, pressing a lingering and deep kiss to her lips. “You will enjoy yourself and feel real fucking good tonight, yeah? We’ll find something that works for both of us.”

She smiled. “Time will tell.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I’ll feel real fucking good.”

Harry halted a little as he heard that word slip from her lips. He had never heard it before. She felt the effect it had on him against her. “I’ll show you, flower.”

He reached down to the hem of her jumper and the two got it off her, throwing it to the floor before they started kissing again. She wrapped her legs around him again, resting her heels at the top of his bum, urging him closer to her. Slowly and deliberately, Harry grinded against her, revealing them both of a small fraction of pleasure, increasing the anticipation that was building in the air around them. Hard against her most delicate spot. She felt a desperate need to reach for him, to feel him right there, as ready for her as she was for him, but she liked this much better. Feeling him moan against her, the slow waves of his hips as he stroked his growing erection against the heat between her legs that was aching. His promise lingered in the back of her head, making her nipples perk at the thought. You will enjoy yourself and feel real fucking good tonight.

Harry’s hand slipped down the front of her white summer dress, lingering over her breast where he felt her already hard nipple. He squeezed her breast, bringing what he could of the nipple between his index and middle finger, squeezing lightly as he started kissing down her jaw. An uncontrollable moan left her mouth as he kissed her neck, chest, between her covered breasts. She felt hot all over as he kissed his way down, leaving no spot untouched by his swollen lips. He reached her thighs, kissing up her right one, leaving wet spots that got cold in the crisp air of the lightkeeper room.

“Turn over,” he said, sitting up on his knees to make the process easier for her.

She did as he told her to without hesitation. Again, he leaned over her, nose nuzzling her hair as he kissed her exposed shoulder. Each one of the kisses he trailed down her shoulder place, and back felt like a declaration of love; felt like a promise of forever, of safe keeping. Right in that moment, she realised she had never felt more appreciated or more turned on. She felt so seen, so important, as Harry kept kissing her back, sucking on her skin, humming moans of absolute delight into her that made goosebumps appear all over her. He reached for the zipper of her dress, kissing her shoulder before he whispered, “Okay if I undress you?”

“Please.”

Harry unzipped her dress, leaving a lingering kiss to her shoulder as he shoved both the straps off her shoulders. She took them off, letting the dress hang loosely over her breasts. Just because she felt like it, she lifted her arse off the bed, pressing it against Harry’s hard-on. It took him off guard and he gasped a little into her ear, but quickly took a grip around her waist. He pressed down hard on her, parting her bumcheeks as his protruding cock could now be seen, and felt, outside his denim shorts.

“Fuck,” he breathed as he grinded against her. His hands slipped down further, hovering over her centre, laying a slight pressure on her over her dress and knickers that was exactly what Y/N needed right then.

“Harry,” she whimpered, feeling him moan at her utterance.

“Dreamed about you saying my name like that,” he mumbled, kissing her shoulder again. “Sound even fucking better than I could’ve imagined.”

He placed more pressure on her, making her gasp and throw her head back slightly, leaning it against Harry’s beside her. They grinded against one another, absolutely lost in this seductive dance that they would have no problem doing forever. Panting a little, Harry kissed her shoulder again, knowing that they could not go on like that, no matter how much they wanted, because he would surely not be able to handle much of it before finishing. The heat between Y/N’s legs was excruciating, she could barely take it as Harry pulled her dress completely off her, exposing her naked back to him.

“On your knees.”

She did as he demanded, getting on her knees in the bed as Harry positioned himself right behind her. He ran his hands over her wet knickers, wanting to properly feel all of her now that he finally had her there. It sent a lightening up her spine, making her moan as he reached her bud, flicking it slowly. He kissed the outside of her knickers before he ran his tongue over her, the hot wetness of him on her made her gasp, sweet torture that she both welcomed and hated. Hooking his fingers under the hem of her knickers, he slid them over her bum and down her legs, and. Again, she felt cold as her wet skin was exposed to the chill room they were in, Harry’s ragged breaths didn’t exactly make it better. She whimpered slightly as she felt his breath go from cold to hot, she could feel the heat of his body radiating against her cunt and bum. With help of her hands, she raised, looking over her shoulder at him to see him there, only his eyes visible as he hovered in front of her.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered, planting a kiss to her bum before he went back to the place she had just been. “I’ll make you come, flower.”

“Actions speak louder than words,” she said, panting slightly in anticipation.

Harry smiled at her, she thought she saw a slight wink before he hovered back over her centre. She was about to tell him to just get on with it when she felt his tongue, hot and wet and hard, between her folds. She gasped again, closing her eyes at the impact. He licked up between her folds first, making sure to taste every last bit of her as he had thought about this for so long. He started off with a light pressure on her clit, licking around it, sometimes over it, driving Y/N absolutely insane. He slowly built up the pressure, making sure he did not overwhelm her, staying focused on the clit the entire time. He wrapped his lips around it, sucking lightly, something that made Y/N throw her head back, letting go of a loud moan that had Harry humming into her.

“Yes,” she gasped, fists buried in the white sheets under her.

He let go of her bud, licking up around the clit again, then over it, flicking it quickly while tipping his head to the side. She bit her bottom lip, looking over her shoulder at Harry as he continued to eat her out, eyes closed as if he was eating the feast of his life. Once again, he wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking lightly at first and building his pressure. Whimpering and panting, Y/N kept looking at Harry, the sight of him behind her like that, doing everything in his power to make her feel good – and succeeding – was so bloody hot.

When she had made her way up here today in the rain, she had never in her wildest dream this was where she would end up. On all fours, Harry seated behind her, eating her out. She had thrown away any hope of him even feeling a smudge of what she felt for him, but tonight, up in the light room, everything changed. Everything they said, and how they opened up to one another. She felt quite literally euphoric; static with adoration and completely engrossed in everything he did.

Harry moved up, slipping his tongue inside her hole, hands sliding down her thighs as he penetrated her. She swallowed thickly, biting at her bottom lip before she met his eyes.

“Doesn’t do anything.”

“Hm?” He moved up, eyes wide as he licked around his lips. “My tongue in you?”

“Yeah. Feels like you’re mushing mash into me.”

Harry laughed, resting his forehead against her bum as he shook, she chuckled as well.

“Don’t hold back,” he said.

“Sorry.”

“No, I’m glad you told me, flower.”

“Also,” she said as he started licking her again, she gasped slightly. “Can we switch? I want to watch you properly.”

Harry blinked slowly, smiling at her as he emerged. “Gladly.”

She turned around, placing herself on her back, Harry stopped to take her in, eyes gliding over her naked body in front of him. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply as he ran his hands over her tits, squeezing them just hard enough before he lowered them and himself. He positioned himself exactly where he’d been, spreading her legs wider for him.

He sucked on her clit again, this time pushing a finger into her. She instantly moaned loudly, burying her hands in his hair. Harry wrapped an arm around her thigh, holding her in place as he continued to lick at her clit, curving his finger ever so slightly as to make her feel the best she possibly could. She squirmed under him, her orgasm coming on much faster in this position than the last, streaming down her legs, her torso, towards the centre between her thighs where Harry was sucking at her most sensitive spot, pounding his finger into her. She tugged at his hair as she could feel it coming on closer.

“Harry,” she moaned and at once he reached up outside her thigh, cupping her breast in his large hand.

He ran a thumb over her nipples as he flicked at her clit, finger still buried inside her, watching as she started moving and panting and whimpering more and more. He moved his finger faster and sucked her bud, which was exactly what Y/N needed, she cried out, moving her hips with Harry’s fingers. He squeezed her breast, and she met his eyes, seeing his dark green eyes under his long lashes, drinking in the sight of her. He suddenly hit a spot that had fires erupt in her lower tummy. Y/N gasped and let out another loud moan, whimpering under Harry as he licked and fucked her through her orgasm. She did not take her eyes off him and he did not look away from her, ordering her to keep watching till she was completely down from her euphoria.

Y/N was sprawled out panting, smiling as Harry came up to hover above her. She took a grip of his neck, kissing him deeply. He tasted of her.

“I’ll go get a condom in the cottage,” he mumbled. “I-If that’s alright with you, of course. We don’t have-“

“-I want to.”

“Alright. Brilliant.” He stumbled as he got up from the bed in a hurry. “I’ll-I’ll be right back, yeah? Don’t move! I’ll-“ He looked over his shoulder as he stood in the open doorway, a huge sigh leaving his lips as his eyes wandered over her naked body. He shook his head slightly, letting out a chuckle of disbelief. “Fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled before running down the stairs and out of the lighthouse.

It did not take long for him to come back, condom in hand and panting as if he’d been sprinting back and forth. He closed the door again, placing the condom on the corner of the desk beside the bed, crawling back over her again.

“Been away from this for too long,” he mumbled, running a hand over her curves. “And your tits are bloody fantastic, by the way.”

She laughed at him, swatting his shoulder as he reached for the hem of his jumper and tee shirt, bringing both over the top of his head and throwing them to the floor.

“I’d been looking forward to doing that,” Y/N said.

“What, undress me?”

“Yes.”

His eyes seemed to darken a bit. “Take off the rest.”

And she did. Keeping eye contact, she reached for the front of his denim shorts, undoing the button and unzipping him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the slight pressure and caress of her fingers against his anticipating and hard prick seemed to do more to him than she thought it would. She hooked her finger around the band of his shorts and boxers, wiggling them down his hips till they were far enough down for him to do the rest. One hand supporting his weight, he used the other one to help her take his clothes off, but her eyes fell to his cock immediately.

It wasn’t like she had thought of it before. Yes, she might’ve had some dreams and daydreams involving Harry and her doing some very filthy things, but she hadn’t really let herself think about his prick. But there it was, and she felt absolutely giddy with anticipation now. She wanted to have proper sex with him; she wanted it so, so bad.

Harry reached for the condom, tearing it open and putting it on, hand sliding down his shaft and to the pubic hair at the very bottom. Seeing the slight trail from his navel and down to it made her mouth water.

“You alright?” Harry asked, that crooked smile on his lips making Y/N’s cheeks heat up. She was already flustered all over, she did not need him looking at her like that. He knew she had been looking and now he was taking the piss. As usual.

“How do you want me?” he asked, voice husky.

She bit her bottom lip, cocking her head to the side. “I dunno.”

He groaned, hovering closer to her lips. She felt him against her sensitive spot, making her gasp. “What can I have?”

She tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. “I want to be on top.”

That crooked smile came forth again, his dimples deepening. “Yes, ma’am.”

Taking a grip of her waist, he rolled around, making her lay on top of him. His head was on the pillow, right where hers had just been, so Y/N sat up. She took a grip of him, making Harry’s lips part at the impact. He gripped her thighs that were straddling either side of his hips, squeezing her lightly as encouragement. She sat up, bringing him to her, sliding him over the wetness he had caused. He let out a shaky breath, looking to be just as nervous as Y/N felt. She slid down onto him slowly, Harry’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and Y/N gasped again.

“Harry,” she said, a little breathless already. “I’ve… I’ve never been on top before.”

He smiled. “That’s fine, here-“ He placed his hands on her hips, urging her to move. She followed his lead, biting her bottom lip hard as her clit rubbed against his pelvic area. “That’s it.”

She continued to grind against him, moving her hips as he was instructing her. Placing her hands on his chest for support, she started moving a little hard, with a little more purpose, Harry’s hands on her thighs a grounding and intense pressure.

“Keep doing that,” he encouraged, letting a moan slip from between his swollen lips. She rolled her hips, loving the filthy sounds they made as the rain kept on crashing against the window. They continued to look into each other’s eyes, not daring to look away as if it would bring them back to reality. Because this was too good to be true. Never before in her life had Y/N felt like this. She felt powerful as she rode Harry, felt a sort of strength in her that had never been present before. It had never been like this with Dominic; it had never been this intense. He hadn’t demanded she order him around, hadn’t been willing or suggested to try new things, hadn’t really done it like this. Harry looked at her as if the world revolved around her alone. As if the centre of the solar system was right here, and he was watching the sun about to eclipse, watching one of the most beautiful and magnificent moments in time. He gripped into her with feverish hands, coming with suggestions every once in a while, always letting her know just how good she was making him feel.

“That’s right,” he moaned as she moved her hips in circles. “Right there. Don’t stop.”

That might just have been the sexiest thing she had ever heard along with his moans. She continued doing exactly what she was doing, feeling her entire body heating up as she could sense her second orgasm that evening. Thinking about it, she wasn’t sure she had ever come twice in one night before. Maybe it was Harry, maybe it was the moment, maybe it was the fact that her and Harry were finally letting their guard down, admitting that there was something else between them besides their fake relationship. People who fake dated each other did not kiss like that, they did not have sex, they did not look at each other like it was all they wanted to do for the rest of their lives. No, this was more than what they had let on. Way more.

Harry sat up, making Y/N fall against his chest as he bent his knees ever so slightly. He placed one hand on her bum and the other on the mattress behind him as to help him move more swiftly. With each stroke over him, Harry thrusted back into her, rubbing at her bud each time and making everything around her seem much more colourful.

“Like that do you?” Harry asked, mouth parted as he panted into her wet lips.

She nodded her head, taking a grip of his shoulders to better move her hips. They moved together, looking into each other’s eyes as the rest of the world disappeared completely around them. The rain, the thunder, the buzzing of the light from upstairs turning on and turning off, it was all tuned out. Harry leaned down, placing one of his hands on her left breast to kneed it seductively. He kissed from her collarbone and down to her breast, sucking and nibbling lightly on her skin as he made his way to her nipple. Sucking it lightly, he looked up at Y/N who was squeezing his shoulders, telling him to keep going. Electricity shot from her tits and down her spine, heating up the fire that was building in her core. He closed his eyes as he sucked and kissed her tits, humming into her and making her moan time and time again. It felt so fucking good. Though she moved a little awkwardly, though they made some sounds together that made both of them laugh and heat up, though they were still trying to figure out what the other liked, this was still the best either had ever had.

As he was closing in on his finish, Harry wrapped both arms around her, bringing her closer to him. They kissed, desperate pleads and whimpers left each of their mouths as everything started setting on fire. Harry moved his hips with her, she tried to continue to move hers along with him, her hips shaking a little with the effort. Harry’s lips parted completely all of a sudden, a furrow appearing between his brows, and she felt it. He twitched against her and she continued to grind her hips, moving him through his orgasm. Looking deep into her eyes, he seemed to completely melt away when she kissed his bottom lip, sighing against him as she herself started getting closer to her second orgasm as well.

“I’ll help you,” Harry said. “I’ll use my hand, if you want?”

“Yes, please.”

He removed his cock from inside her, meeting her eyes as his thumb circled her clit again. Y/N gasped, gripping both sides of Harry’s neck. His lips parted at the pressure, grinning up at her. He brought his other hand forward, slipping his index and ring finger into her while his other thumb continued to flick at her clit. At once she moaned, looking into his eyes as this brought her closer to her climax, fast. She moved with his hand, moaning louder and louder as the fire inside her tummy intensified, feeling even greater than the time before. Harry curled his finger just as he leaned down, sucking on her nipple again, looking up at her through hooded eyes.

Everything exploded and she threw her head back, unable to stop herself. The sound of Harry pounding into her at a fast speed, wet and filthy, echoed through the room with her exclamation of euphoria. Harry continued till she was completely done, watching her as she closed her eyes, breathing heavily above him. Gently, he removed his fingers from inside her, bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean just as she opened her eyes again.

Y/N felt at peace. Her heart was still thundering away inside her chest, her soul was still intermingled with Harry’s, and they would not let go of one another. They didn’t need that lamp, they didn’t need a lighthouse, they could light up everything on their own. She was sure that at some point tonight, while their bodies grinded together and worked toward climax, they had lit up like the sun. What was going on between them, the cellular reaction, the emotional connection, the physical attraction, it all equated to something. It had to. What this was, was greater than either of them individually. This would forever be marked on their souls. Meeting Harry, spending this summer with him, it had shaped her into a brand-new person. That was, Y/N reminded herself, what love was all about after all. Change for the better.

Harry got a cloth not long after, helping clean Y/N up before they both slipped under the duvet in the lightkeeper room, squished together as the bed was way smaller than what they were used to. Harry ran his hand from Y/N’s cheek and up to her shoulder, his eyes following his hand’s movement.

“I fucking worship you, Y/N,” Harry mumbled, the rain still pouring outside. He caressed his fingers gently over her jawline.

She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around him. They both closed their eyes and Y/N felt sleep coming closer. She felt so incredibly content, cuddled up to Harry and with the storm raging outside. A couple a seconds away from falling asleep, Harry started whispering against her forehead.

“Play fair with my heart, yeah?” It seemed like he thought she was asleep. That it was safe to say this. “’Cause I’m gonna fall in love with you. You don’t have to love me back, but I’m telling you now, ‘cause it’s inevitable, at one point, I’ll love you. Madly, truly, completely. Just… please… break my heart gently.”

Before she was able to form any sort of reply, she fell asleep.

A/N: If you wonder what the melody Harry wrote for that day spent in St Austell with Y/N and Gracie sounds like, I imagine it goes something like this 🥰

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kasienda · 4 years

Text

A Miraculous Reveal - Just an Ordinary (Bad) Day

Marinette choked back a cry as her eyes landed on the black butterfly that fluttered towards her. She slid down to the ground, and pulled her knees to her chest. How had she sunk this low? Yeah, her day had sucked, but it was the suck of an ordinary bad day where everything seemed to go wrong.

But it shouldn’t have been soul ending. Ladybug’s responsibilities hadn’t interrupted Marinette’s life at all. Chloé hadn’t been picking on or undermining her. Lila hadn’t cornered her in the bathroom, and while her history teacher was probably irritated that she had run out of class, she wasn’t facing a potential expulsion.

It was just an ordinary bad day.

Surely, not anything worthy of an akuma. Especially not an akuma for Ladybug.

Marinette should have been able to handle it. She always handled it. She just needed to breathe deeply and calm herself down.

And yet, the akuma fluttered ever closer.

Continue reading on Ao3

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to breathe.”

Marinette choked off a sob, scuttled backwards on her butt away from the sparkling butterfly, and did as her kwami advised. She took long and even breaths, trying to soothe herself, but she was losing the battle. Her tears threatened to claw back up her throat anyway.

It had been an absolutely terrible day.

It had started with the nightmares. She hadn’t been able to fall into slumber without tearing awake an hour later with her pajamas sticking to her sweat soaked form, struggling for air. On a bad night, Marinette didn’t always remember the haunting images that plagued her attempts at rest, but she would tear awake with a pounding heart and crying eyes just the same.

But this night, the dreams were far too vivid. In some, she faced the concerned faces of her friends and family, but she didn’t know their names. In another, she lived underground, living off rats after Hawkmoth’s dystopian wish came to fruition in the form of iron-clad authoritarian rule. But the worst nightmare featured Chat Blanc’s soulless blue eyes staring straight through her - never seeing his partner and friend. He hunted her through forests covered in winter white, or he threw her off the tallest building in Paris. And in the last one, he hadn’t tried to hurt her at all.

No, he had tried to turn his cataclysmic power on himself.

He had been so alone. Died alone in a desolate world.

She hadn’t been able to save him.

And after that, she had been unwilling to try again for sleep.

It felt like she hadn’t slept at all. Her head existed in a fog with a dull ache between her temples. Her thoughts and motivation were even more sluggish than usual this morning. She wished that she could just sleep through one whole night just once this week. Was that too much to ask?

When she hadn’t made it out of the bathroom quickly enough, her mother had been kind enough to leave a breakfast tray on her desk. Only, with a towel over her head as she was drying her hair, Marinette hadn’t seen it. She had knocked the whole tray - strewn with eggs, toast, and coffee - over onto the floor when she stumbled past. It wouldn’t have been a big deal except she had a project laid out on the floor. A pattern pinned in place that she hadn’t cut out yet. The coffee alone no doubt ruined the fabric she had spent months saving up to buy.

Marinette fell to her knees in front of the disaster.

Her mother found her there still clad in only her towel, staring stoically over the lost project.

When thin warm arms wrapped around her, Marinette’s started in surprise.

“Oh Marinette, I’m so sorry,” her mother apologized. “I didn’t mean to risk your project. I was trying to save you some time.”

Marinette shook her head against her mother’s chest. “It wasn’t your fault,” the teenager responded tonelessly. “I didn’t see it.”

“I can’t promise anything,” her mother soothed, as her hand rubbed warm circles along her back. “But I will try to save the fabric.”

Marinette nodded, but she couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes from the disaster. She didn’t know what she was feeling, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. And it wasn’t really about the fabric. It was about everything.

If Ladybug hadn’t been needed last night, no doubt Marinette would have finished cutting the pieces out, and had the project tucked away safely.

If Marinette wasn’t the Guardian, she would have had more time to earn more money to replace the loss, and she would have more time in general to recreate the now soggy patterns. More time to spend on the things that brought her joy.

As it was, Papillon had her up and running frantic at all times of day and night.

It wasn’t fair.

“Marinette, I will clean this up,” her mother assured her, still rubbing her back. “Do you think you could start getting ready for school again?”

Marinette stumbled to her feet, and began the usual mad dash to collect all her things before heading off to school.

She was only five minutes late by the time she ran out the door, with a ham and cheese quiche in her bag as a second attempt at sustenance. It wasn’t until she had fallen into her usual seat beside her best friend that she realized she had forgotten her essay.

The essay that she had actually completed, proofread, edited, and printed out. The assignment was no doubt still laying in her printer’s document tray on her desk in her room.

She let her head fall to the desk in frustration. Why did it have to be for Mendeliev? Any other teacher would have let her retrieve the paper during lunch and turn it in for full credit. But Mendeliev? While the science teacher was never very sympathetic with anyone, she had lost all patience with Marinette and her scatterbrained tendencies months ago.

Which is why Marinette’s grade was in jeopardy. She could not afford this late penalty. Having to retake the course in summer school was the absolute last thing she needed to add onto her plate.

At the end of class she had asked anyway, but the stern science teacher glared down her nose. “We’ve already had this conversation, Marinette,” she said coldly. “I’ve no interest in repeating it now.”

Her head hung low, Marinette trudged into the hallway barely noticing the bustle of students around her. Until one of them crashed into her and icy cold swept across her front.

“Oh my god! Marinette!” Rose’s shrill voice punctuated her shock. “I’m so sorry!”

“Marinette!” another voice crooned mockingly. “Finally found a fashion statement that suits your personality, I see!”

“Shut up, Chloé!” Alya barked already at her friend’s side, trying to help wring out the dark liquid from Marinette’s original shirt.

Marinette crumpled like paper on the spot. Hot tears sprang to her eyes, her throat closed up, and her chest felt tight.

Rose squeezed her hand, as tears sprang to her blue eyes. “Marinette,” she sobbed. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I was just running to meet Juleka. It was an accident. Please forgive me.”

Marinette squeezed Rose’s hand in return. “I-it’s okay, Rose. I-I know it was an accident. Today… today, has just…” and she choked on the words.

“Ladies!” Damocles’ voice barked across the courtyard. “Get to class!”

“But sir!” Alya objected. “Marinette needs to get cleaned up.”

The principal eyed the three girls. “Marinette is fully capable of cleaning herself up in the restroom. You and Rose need to get to class.”

Her friends glared daggers at the principal’s disapproving frown, but eventually shouldered their bags, and turned towards class with sympathetic smiles and slumped shoulders

Suddenly, Marinette stood alone in the courtyard in her sopping wet blouse. She blinked her eyes furiously, beating back the tears that threatened to fall. When she could breathe easily again through the lump in her throat she picked up her bag, and made her way slowly to the bathroom.

But within the privacy of the tiny girl’s bathroom, her emotions caught up with her again, and was soon weeping softly as she tried unsuccessfully to dab the coffee out of her pale pink shirt.

How much was too much, before a girl couldn’t take it anymore?

She fought against the thought, and forced her breathing to slow until she could dam up the flow of tears. She could do this.

She was Ladybug.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Alya: Hey girl. I just received a slip to leave for a dentist appointment. I have to go. Are you going to be okay?

The words blurred for a second, before Marinette stubbornly wiped her eyes, and recentered her breathing all over again. Of course, she would be okay.

She was Ladybug.

She typed back a quick response assuring Alya that she would manage.

After she finished rinsing her shirt the best she could, and using a hand dryer to get it down to damp rather than soaking, she returned to class.

Marinette ducked under the teacher’s disapproving gaze, and scrambled to her seat.

History proved to be particularly dreary that day. The teacher was just droning on and on. She would have had difficulty enough paying attention on a normal day. As it was, Marinette’s emotional reserves were shot and with Alya gone for her appointment, and Adrien absent for who knew what, there was nothing there to distract her. Soon, she caught herself nodding off.

“Marinette!” Her teacher’s sudden unexpected voice tore her from her unsanctioned nap. “If you stay awake in class, you might actually score higher than a D on the next exam.”

And that was the straw she could not handle. Tears burst from her in uncontrolled torrents. Right in the middle of class. Consoling and judgemental comments alike had poured in around her.

She didn’t wait for the teacher to call the class back to order. Instead, she bolted for the exit.

She had thought she could soothe herself in the privacy of the empty hallway, but instead she had found herself on the ground, backed into a corner on her butt, face to face with an akuma.

It honestly was almost pretty. Electric violet sparkled across the butterfly’s black fluttering wings.

Some part of her wanted to reach out and touch it.

Because Marinette was sick of crying, tired of being the bigger person, and far too aware that her thin shoulders could not bear the weight of protecting an entire city from a terrorist indefinitely.

She had no fall back position. She was it! A sixteen year old girl. Who thought that was a good idea?

If she was going to lose someday anyway, why not today?

Tikki’s bulbous form flew into her face and took up her entire field of vision.

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to breathe,” she added gently.

Marinette nodded, trying to follow those directions.

Because she couldn’t be akumatized. No one would know Ladybug was out of commission. No one could bring out extra allies from the miracle box.

But her throat was tight and her chest felt hollow and she just wanted to curl up on herself and cry.

Chat Noir would have to face her alone.

The butterfly melted into her earrings. She felt them grow hot, but she couldn’t move as the electric violet flooded her vision.

Hello, Lady Liberty.

His voice was cold, but booming. It seemed to scream from inside her own head. Her hands clutched either side of her face.

“Marinette!” Tikki yelled, but Marinette had to strain to hear her.

You bear a heavy load. Let me ease your burden by allowing you to let it all go. You can be free.

Hot tears ran down her cheeks. Marinette wanted to let go. She wanted to be free.

But Tikki was still screaming, and Marinette knew her kwami was the one she ought to be listening to. “Don’t fight your feelings! If you fight them, they double down. Try to accept them. Forgive yourself, Marinette. Have patience and compassion for yourself. Please! Can you do that?”

Marinette nodded, but who was she nodding to? She didn’t know.

I grant you the power to free everyone from the burdens they carry.

Marinette nodded again.

“Think of something that makes you feel safe and loved,” the other voice interrupted urgently. “Something that makes you have hope! Go to that place on your mind, Marinette.”

Her mind instantly flooded with visions of her partner.

Being tangled up with him in the string of her yoyo the first time they met. He hadn’t been upset. He hadn’t doubted her ability. He had been excited and wanted to know her name.

Him diving in front of her to take a hit only to instantly fade from existence. But he had smiled, just for a moment. Like he had died happy knowing he had protected her.

His infuriating smirk every time he managed to pull off a stupid joke at a ridiculous time or one up her in some ridiculous competition.

He gave her advice - patient and heartfelt - even when she was asking for advice about confessing to another boy.

His arms wrapped around her - solid and safe - after her biggest mistake that had cost her a mentor. His faith and trust in her had never waivered.

And suddenly, she was laughing through her tears.

She was in love with Chat Noir.

When had that even happened?

It didn’t matter, but the revelation made one thing crystal clear: She couldn’t be akumatized.

That would leave her partner alone.

And she would never do that to him.

Marinette gasped for air as the butterfly broke away. The akuma couldn’t hold her. Not like this, not with the joy that flooded her form at the realization that she could be happy - that she could make her kitty happy.

The winged creature flapped away, and Marinette sagged to her knees. Her bones felt like jelly, but she was giggling hysterically.

The black butterfly flew away. Only once it was out of sight did it occur to her that she should have transformed and purified it.

But she hadn’t been thinking at all, and now Ladybug was going to have to deal with an akuma.

She supposed that was better than Ladybug being the akuma.

Muffled screams pierced the silence, followed by the sound of a classroom door slamming open.

Marinette didn’t move immediately. She remained huddled up on the floor unmotivated to get to her feet. Students evacuated from their rooms - some more orderly than others. Despite the chaos around her, Marinette remained unaffected by it.

Even an explosion rocking the ground beneath her legs still folded underneath her form, was not enough to bring her out of her funk. Paris could wait for five minutes.

“Well, look at you!” Chat Noir’s booming voice echoed from the courtyard. “Aren’t you a regular class act?”

Marinette was running for a safe spot to transform before she had made the conscious decision. While she was willing to make Paris wait, she couldn’t leave her partner fighting for a second longer than necessary.

Not ever.

No matter how done she wanted to be with this day.

“M’lady!” He greeted happily when she landed beside him.

“What’ve we got?”

“Apparently a pop quiz burst this kid’s bubble!” Her partner reported, his green vertical pupils never leaving their adversary. “Apparently he was angling for an A in Geometry.”

She sighed. How mundane. “His teacher is the target?”

“Monsier Fontaine,” he clarified.

She nodded. “Let’s get this over with, kitty.”

The akuma wasn’t particularly dangerous, which wasn’t surprising since she knew he hadn’t been Hawkmoth’s first choice.

But Ladybug was having trouble keeping her head in the game - she was still raw and shaky from too close a call. She stumbled through an easy dodge more than once. But Chat was always there hauling her to her feet or blocking the attack.

Once he had her upright and centered for the fourth time, she wasted no more time waiting for an opening and immediately called for her lucky charm.

A spotted frying pan fell into her hands. She blinked at the pan, her mind remaining stubbornly blank. She had no clue what to do with this!

“What amazing plan will you cook up next?” Chat grinned at her, his baton spinning in his hands blocking another blow.

She looked into his smiling eyes, and everything instantly fell into place. God, he always was exactly what she needed. Of course she had fallen in love with him.

The battle lasted another twenty-two seconds.

But when Chat Noir offered her a fist for their traditional victory fist bump, she knocked it aside and seized him in a hug instead.

He stiffened for a second, but then his tension fell away and his arms encircled protectively around her. “LB? Are you okay? I didn’t think that battle was that hard. I certainly don’t remember dying that time.”

“Shut up!” she whispered into his chest as she clung to him.

His arms tightened around her. “As you wish, M’lady.” His head leaned against her own and she stood there feeling the comfort of his solid warm frame holding her upright. They just stood there for several seconds. Everything was quiet. Then his chest was vibrating. Was he purring?

She hadn’t known he could do that.

She nuzzled her cheek into his chest, closer to the soothing vibration.

“LB, are you okay?” he asked again.

She shook her head. “I just had a really bad day.”

Her earrings beeped in warning, but she remained within his embrace.

He sighed and melted against her. “Who do I need to beat up?” he mumbled.

She giggled. “I’ll text you my list.”

“I’ll take care of it by end of day tomorrow,” he joked, his voice tickling her inner ear.

She knew he was joking, but she grinned anyway. He was always on her side, no questions asked.

“I need to talk to you somewhere private. Where do you think would be safe from prying eyes?”

He pulled away just an inch and searched her face intently. She had no idea what he saw, and she quickly found her gaze falling into her hands, a heated blush creeping out from under her mask.

“Do you remember that café we went to after patrol last week?”

She nodded.

“There’s a deep balcony in the alleyway about three stories up. The building is closed for renovations, but the balcony is untouched.

“Perfect. Go recharge, and meet me there?” She requested.

“See you in ten, M’lady!”

Ladybug launched herself up out of the school’s courtyard and onto Paris’s rooftops. Her earrings beeped again. She ducked behind a chimney, and let the transformation fall. Tikki fell into her hands.

Tikki didn’t take her offered cookie. Instead, the kwami flew up to Marinette’s face and nuzzled her head into Marinette’s cheek. “Are you okay, Marinette?”

Marinette leaned into the affectionate gesture. “I’m exhausted, Tikki. I feel raw and numb. But not as upset. Thank you, by the way. I would not have survived that without you.”

“I’m always happy to support you. I am sad that it was necessary today.”

Marinette stroked the top of her kwami’s head. “I’m going to tell him who I am.”

To her relief, Tikki didn’t object. Instead, the kwami nodded. “I understand. But if you’re emotionally done for today, just know you don’t have to talk to Chat Noir right this second. It can wait until tomorrow or next patrol.”

Marinette shook her head. “Today proved that not telling him is a potentially huge risk. I am not going to sleep again until I fix it. And plus, he deserves to know. He’s wanted to know for so long.” She trailed off for a moment as her feelings caught up with her all over again. “He’s going to be so happy,” she whispered, a tear slipped down her cheek even as she giggled.

“You love him?” Tikki asked with a soft smile.

“I don’t even know when it happened!” Marinette exclaimed. “And that stupid cat is never going to let me live it down,” she grumbled.

Tikki did a happy little dance in the air. “I’m happy for you, Marinette. You deserve to be happy.”

“Thank you, Tikki. Now, let’s go.”

Tikki inhaled the cookie in two gulps. Marientte called for her transformation and launched herself into the skyline once again, her heart light even if butterflies fluttered in her stomach with nervous energy.

She arrived at their meeting place. He was already there sitting in a lotus position frowning into space. His expression brightened when he caught sight of her.

“Are you okay?” he asked for the third time, his eyes shining with concern.

And she found herself lost in his gaze - sincere and yet, incredibly open. How had she ever turned this boy down?

“I…” she trailed off, unable to find words. She just needed to say it. Why was she hesitating? This was going to make everything easier and he would be thrilled, wouldn’t he? He had always wanted to know.

But he hadn’t asked in a long time. Maybe he had moved on. Like she had asked him to.

She shook her head at herself. It didn’t matter. She had been akumatized. This wasn’t about what either of them felt. Not telling him was putting millions in danger every single day.

She found herself smiling.

“M’lady?”

She dropped down next to him, deep into the private balcony with walls on three sides. The balcony wasn’t designed to have a view. She suspected its function was just to allow the inhabitants to be outside.

“Tikki, spots off,” she whispered.

“Woah! What are you doing?” he demanded, turning his head away.

That wouldn’t do. She took his face gently between her hands. He didn’t resist as her skin tight suit peeled away in a ripple of pink light.

He just stared at her, his eyes wide in shock. “M-Marinette? But… I saw you… and L-ladybug.”

“Fox miraculous,” she explained.

“Ah,” was all he managed to say, his beautiful green eyes wide with shock.

“I-is this okay?” she asked.

He blinked at her dumbly. “Uh, y-yes, of course it is, m’lady! More than okay! Just completely unexpected.”

“You don’t have to reciprocate,” she told him.

He blanched. “Are you kidding me?! Plagg, cla-”

She pinched his lips closed with her bare hands. “No! Wait! Let’s talk first. You can reveal yourself after if you still want to.”

“But I…” he objected, his body tense and unmoving.

She covered his mouth again. “Please?”

He sagged against her hold. She didn’t remove her hand until he nodded. “Whatever you need, M’lady Princess.”

Every muscle in her body loosened at the new combined affectionate nickname. Princess. She was his princess. And his lady.

“Tikki?” Marinette called.

The kwami nodded.

“Spots on.” And she let her magical energies wrap her once again in its protective warmth.

Chat’s eyes were as wide as canyons as he watched her display. “Wow! That was… amazing. Your transformation is like a dance. You’re so graceful. I mean… I knew that, but this is just like the epitome of...”

She covered her face with her gloved hands, trying to cover the heat she felt growing from the bottom of her mask. “Please, stop,” she begged. How was she ever going to tell this boy what she needed to when he kept sending her thoughts and feelings scrambling in a million different directions with gushing praise?

He grinned. “I can’t help it,” he objected. “You’re so amazing. I mean... I already knew that, but now…” he trailed off and really looked at her. “I’ve suspected you more than once. I just… But after kwami buster, I assumed it was just wishful thinking.”

Her jaw dropped. “You wanted me to be her?”

He barked a laugh. “You have no idea.”

Her blush bloomed from her cheeks to the very tips of her ears. But she didn’t know what to say, and the silence stretched between them.

“So… uh…” his hand rubbed the back of his neck. “What changed your mind?”

She wrapped her arms around her stomach in an attempt to soothe herself - to assure herself that she hadn’t truly become an akuma. She hadn’t betrayed her duty or her partner in that low moment. “I just... I need you to know.” It was all she managed to say before her throat seemed to snap closed, choking off everything else she needed to say.

“It must’ve been some bad day to convince you to go against the prime directive of superheroing,” he offered, his voice gentle and soft.

And she laughed, but within seconds her mirth transformed into tears and she was finally crying, the sobs tearing through her.

His arms instantly wrapped around her. And she fell into his embrace and just let herself cry.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m right here,” he soothed, his hands rubbing comforting circles on her back.

And she cried herself out. It was a good cry. A release of not just the day, but also of all the tension and stress she had carried for weeks, or maybe years, with no place to unburden herself.

Until today.

“What happened?” he asked when her cries had finally faded.

The question was thrilling. Amazing even because it occurred to her that for the first time since taking up the mantle of Ladybug, for the first time in years, she didn’t have to filter anything.

“It’s stupid really. Just a bunch of little things that all added up.” And she told him all of it. About the nightmares, and she’d tell him about the reality of Chat Blanc soon. But for now, she stayed focused on the day. She spoke of her ruined fabric, her feelings that mishap had triggered about being Ladybug and the Guardian, about her blouse getting ruined, about her friends not being there in class, and her stupid stupid teachers wo just didn’t understand that homework could never be her top priority. “And I could have handled all of it, I swear! It’s just so hard on top of all of this. The akuma was the last straw.”

“Akumas do have the worst timing,” he commented.

She sighed. He didn’t realize that she didn’t mean the monster they just fought, but the raw little black butterfly.

“It was meant for me,” she admitted softly. “It actually succeeded in melding with my earrings.”

He turned rigid underneath her, suddenly as frozen as an ice sculpture.

Her grip around him tightened. “And you know what I was most angry about, Chaton?” she continued, determined to get all of it out. “I wasn’t angry at Papillion. Not really. I was just upset that I couldn’t let myself be akumatized. I’m the only person in Paris who isn’t allowed to just say “fuck it” and let the butterfly take me. The only person who isn’t allowed to have a bad day. I want to be able to have a bad day!”

“I want to be able to let myself be akumatized, and just be able to trust that Ladybug and Chat Noir will take care of it. Why don’t I get that?”

She pulled back just enough to see his face, and she was horrified to see the tear tracks down his cheeks.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”

His eyes landed on hers. “Whatever for?” he demanded.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” she admitted, brushing his tears away with her thumb. “I’m sorry that I’m so pathetic. That I wasn’t strong enough.”

He pulled back, and turned her so they were looking right at one another eye to eye. He had a hand on either one of her shoulders. She felt like he was staring directly into her soul, but she couldn’t look away. She had never once seen him so serious.

“Buginette, I need you to hear me right now,” he paused as if expecting her to object. When she didn’t, he continued. “You are the strongest person I know. From what you said, I gather that you were able to throw off an akuma after it had gotten you.”

She nodded confirmation.

“I’ve never known anyone to do that. I didn’t know it was possible. Maybe someone has done it before. I guess I wouldn’t have a way of knowing, but… I guess what I’m saying is that you’re not pathetic. Not even close. You’re so strong, and incredibly resilient. And I don’t know how you’ve done everything you do as Ladybug and as Marinette for so long.”

His eyes bored into hers, never once did he look away.

“And you’re allowed to be human, Buginette. And this feels weird to say, but I want you to be able to have a bad day, too.”

She laughed. And he smiled in response, touching his forehead to hers. His compelling green eyes filled up her whole vision.

“I’m sorry that you’ve felt so alone in holding the mantle of Ladybug. I’m sorry that I haven’t been here in the way that you needed.”

She shook her head. “That’s not true! You’ve always been here. You’ve always given me what I needed even when I didn’t realize. And me feeling alone was more my fault than yours,” she insisted. “I’m the one that insisted on keeping our identities secret. I thought it was too dangerous to share our identities.”

She pressed her lips together in thought.

“But when I was facing that akuma, I realized that not sharing is dangerous, too. That I’ve been keeping all my secrets in one basket. And while that makes them harder to lose, it also makes me more vulnerable. If I hadn't been able to fight off that akuma, you wouldn’t have had any back up and you wouldn’t have known that Ladybug wasn’t coming.”

“You’d likely be an absolutely terrible akuma,” he commented. “I mean, you kick ass without anything boosting your skills. I’m going to have nightmares about akumanette now.” His tone was light.

She stuck her tongue out at his teasing. He smirked.

She allowed the moment of silliness before growing solemn and serious once again. “Master Fu kept all his secrets in one basket and kept himself hidden for over a century. He told one person - me. And less than two years went by, and all it took was one stupid thoughtless mistake on my part and it all came toppling down!”

Chat squeezed her shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s also easier for him to stay hidden and keep secrets when there aren’t akumas out terrorizing the street every other day!”

“And I don’t even know how to do this as well as him,” she continued to rant as if he hadn’t spoken. “And I am falling apart, Chaton.” she broke into soft sobs again.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed. “I’m right here. And now that I know who you are, I’m going to be so present and so supportive you’re going to wish that you had never revealed your identity!”

She traced the curve of his jawline with two fingers. “In this moment, I really don’t think I’m going to regret any of this.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “For?”

“For trusting me. I promise I will do everything in my power to protect you, your secret, and by extension, your loved ones.”

She nuzzled further into him, her head resting on his collar bone. She didn’t want to be caught crying again.

“I don’t know if I’m worth your devotion, Chaton,” she whispered.

His arms tightened around her waist. “Shhh! Don’t say that. It’s not true.”

The tears flowed before she could stop them. “I-I don’t know how… to be the Guardian,” she confessed.

He only smiled. “You didn’t know how to be Ladybug at first either. You rose to that challenge beautifully.”

Her lips twisted into a displeased frown. “Only because I had such an amazing partner,” she said emphatically.

“I only have ever followed your example,” he told her. “You taught me to be a hero.”

She laughed. This boy. He never stopped. “God, I love you.”

Chat Noir looked like she had clubbed him with a two by four. His eyes were overblown, and his mouth open in a little ‘o’ of surprise.

She bit her lip, trying to assess his reaction because for once in his life he was being infuriatingly silent. “I meant it. It wasn’t just a slip. I actually love you.”

He blinked at her, unmoving.

“P-please say something,” she begged.

“I… uh…”

She wilted at his hesitation. “I thought you’d be happy…”

He pulled her against his form, tucking her head under his chin. “Trust me, Bugaboo, I am over the moon! I’m not sure that this day could get any better honestly. I’m just also in shock and more than a bit confused.”

She relaxed into his embrace, melting at how natural it felt to be held in his arms.

“Since when do you love me?” he asked, his voice barely louder than a gentle breeze.

“I think it’s been a while now, but I realized it just today,” she confided into his chest.

“How?”

“When we saw the akuma, Tikki told me to go to my happy place and I thought of you,” she sat up and looked up at him then. “You’re the only place anymore I feel safe and completely understood. And I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner.”

“What about your friends?” he whispered, his eyes swirling with an emotion she could not label.

“They’re great. But they can’t understand... and it’s not like I can explain it to them.”

“What about the boy you love?”

“I had to let him go.”

“Why?”

She leaned up against him once again, her gaze falling to their feet. “I couldn’t share all myself with him. And he doesn’t need all my baggage. Plus, I think I already missed my chance. He’s in love with someone else.”

She could hear his frown. “How do you know?”

“He told me.”

“He told you he was in love with someone else,” he repeated, the disbelief clear in his voice.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I find it hard to believe that he could love anyone else when he knows you.”

She rolled her eyes. “He told me that the girl he loved didn’t like his jokes, and since I was sitting right next to him in his fancy limo car when he said it, I knew he wasn’t talking about me.”

He went rigid underneath her. She jerked up, and searched his face. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing!” he said, turning his gaze away.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

He gaze swung back to her, his cheeks burning in the most beautiful pink. “I just find it impossible that he wasn’t talking about you.”

She gave him a flat look. “He definitely wasn’t talking about me.”

Chat’s gloved hands cupped both sides of her face. “He was actually.”

She was lost in his intense gaze.

“He just didn’t know it was you,” he whispered.

She stared at him for several seconds, but she shook herself and pulled away. “How would you know? You weren’t there!” she objected.

His claws scratched at the back of his neck. Her eyes zeroed in on the action. It was familiar.

“I know you don’t believe me, but It’s true. He was talking about you,” he insisted, looking right over at her. “You never have liked my jokes.”

“That’s not true! It’s not the jokes that suck!” she objected. “Though they are a bit lame,” she tacked on softly. “But it’s the timing! Your timing sucks!”

And then her expression faded. Her eyebrows scrunched towards each other under the pressure of the mask. “Wait, a second. I have never liked your jokes?”

“Well, you definitely didn’t like it when I pretended to be a wax model.”

She felt her face go slack, her eyes overblown and gaping. “A-Adrien?” she whispered.

“Hi?” He gave her a self conscious little smile.

“H-hi,” she managed back, her voice too high.

His whole face lit up in understanding. “Oh my god! You always stuttered around me because you liked me?”

Her cheeks burned hot.

“I was convinced forever that you didn’t like me at all, or that I was intimidating somehow for being a fashion icon,” he rambled.

“You were intimidating,” she broke in. “You were so kind and genuine. And just… incredibly patient. I liked you so much. I was terrified of messing things up. Which I did constantly, because I am such a spaz.”

His whole form softened, and he offered her the smallest most sincere smile and she gasped. Seriously, how had she never recognized him before this.

His hand slowly moved towards hers and he wove their fingers together, before touching his forehead to hers ever so gently. “Nothing has ever been messed up. You have always amazed me on both sides of the mask. I fell in love with Ladybug when she stood up to Hawkmoth on our first day on the job. I love the way her brain works and how her creative genius can find victory when she has almost nothing to work with.”

“And I’ve always admired Marinette for the way she goes out of the way to make everyone feel welcome - even stray cats that land on her balcony, the way she expects others to do the right thing, and the way she stands up when someone else doesn’t live up to those ideals. I love when her eyes get so big when she’s nervous and I positively love the moments when she trips over her own feet.”

She smacked him playfully, heat blazing from her neck to her ears. “Shut up! You do not!”

He laughed. “I do though! It gives me an excuse to touch her.”

She went still, her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Every time you trip, I get to catch you or offer you a hand to get back up. I love those moments, Marinette. I’ve always cherished them.”

“Really?” She asked, her voice small, her eyes filling with emotion she could not define.

“Really,” he assured.

She moved before she thought about it. She literally threw herself at him, and he barely caught her; he was so startled. But he did catch her. Because he always caught her. And that made it really easy to kiss him.

Her lips pressed against his. And she took satisfaction from the fact that he took him a second to react, that she had managed to catch him off guard.

But then he did respond and she didn’t have the space for thought.

His hands cupped the base of her skull, cradling her whole head. His claws gently kneaded into her hair, sending tingles shooting down her neck and all the way down her spine. And his lips - they were so soft. As soft as a baby’s newborn skin. He gently sucked in on her lower lip causing her to gasp. They were sharing the same breath. His tongue tentatively brushed past her lips and she met it with her own.

Unfortunately, she eventually needed to breathe again.

“I love you,” she gasped against his mouth as she pulled away.

He smirked. “I told you that you’d fall for me eventually.”

She shoved him playfully away when he cackled happily. But she was laughing too.

“What am I going to do with you?” she demanded.

He pulled her against him again, and kissed her chastely. “Love me forever, I hope.” And then his expression grew serious. “Because I love you, Mari. I have since the day I met you.”

She grinned and traced the side of his face with a knuckle. “Forever doesn’t sound so bad,” she admitted before kissing him again.

And it really didn’t.

Even if he never let her hear the end of the fact that she had finally fallen for him despite her denials. Even if she had to put up with puns at the worst possible times. Even if he insisted on taking blow after blow for her.

If she was being honest, she didn’t want to hear the end of it. She wanted him to tease her for forever and a day. She wanted to hear his stupid jokes. And she wanted to fight with him at her side.

Because that was who he was. And she loved him.

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ladynoir #identity reveal #angst #happy ending #Marinette's no good very bad day #Marinette reflects #Supportive Chat Noir #love confessions #miraculous reveal #my own content

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anastasiabeaverhousen87 · 4 years

Text

Make Wise Choices Part 3

Doctor Sharpe

You can feel yourself being held by strong arms and your face being placed in an odd angle. Someone is touching your mouth and your cheeks. You can feel liquid filling your mouth, no not liquid blood and tugging inside your cheeks. A few moments later you begin to hear voices, several voices in fact. You can recognize your sister’s voices and Lena’s but there is one you most definitely do not know who it belongs to. Its quite soothing though and because you don’t feel pain, you take that as a major win for now. Then you seem to notice the tugging and hands on your face continue to prod and touch inside your mouth and now you are intrigued to know what’s is going on.

You try to open your eyes but there’s a bright light directly assaulting your eyes, you first instinct is to hiss and close your eyes again but you find impossible to move your jaw to perform such action and in response the person manhandling your mouth tenses their hold to make sure you don’t move your jaw and the pressure grows stronger this time. The hands touching your jaw are strong and cool soft. You don’t feel scare and you wonder who the person might be.

By now everyone in your proximity notice you began to regain consciousness and now the voices are directed at you.

Alex: “Hold still little one, Doctor Sharpe is here, and she needs to look at your incisions and assess the damage. Please don’t be scare its just us and Doctor Sharpe” says in a very calm and reassuring voice.

Doctor Sharpe? You mentally ask yourself; you don’t know anyone named Sharpe and you know your dentist name is Richards.

Kara: “Shhh little one, we got you. Doctor Sharpe is a friend of Lena and she was super nice to come here and check on you. She is a dentist by the way, so don’t think we would just let anyone just prod and touch your mouth. Lena called her once you passed out, we were worry for you and I mean is not like I don’t appreciate your being here Dr. Sharpe but…”

Lena: “Kara, Love please calm down. Take a deep breath, you are rambling, and you are going to make y/n nervous” -Lena puts a reassuring hand on Kara’s shoulder and that makes the blonde stop and relax.

Kara: “sorry…”

You open your eyes once again, this time you are prepared for the assault of bright light and squint your eyes and can barely distinguish 3 figures standing in front of you, one of them holding your face.

Alex rolls her eyes at her sister “Kara tends to ramble a lot when she is anxious, but honestly thank you for coming so quickly to check on our sister. We really appreciate it” – Alex says with a small but grateful smile aimed to the doctor.

Dr Sharpe: “don’t be, it’s fine” the mysterious person says chuckling a little at Kara’s fluster rambling. The doctor removes her hands from your face and all of the sudden the blinding light is gone - “Honestly it’s okay, don’t worry, I’m used to worried parents and relatives doting over my patients. Its perfectly normal to worry about your love ones, especially when they are as cute as your sister right here”

Y/N: “Wow that voice. Pretty voice. I like it …Hooot” In your drugged out state of mind you think you’re having an inner monologue but you actually voiced those words out loud and you are thankful for the mouth piece you have stuffed next to your cheek and that the words come up a bit sluggish. Still you know everyone understood because you can hear different kinds of snickering coming from the women in the room.

Y/N: “nghhh…”

Dr. Sharpe: chuckles- “Well thank you honey, that is very sweet of you to say. But please try not to speak or move your jaw just yet”

That voice again, you really like that voice and you are finally able to see her face and the owner of that voice. You are mesmerized by the eyes looking straight at you, like she is looking into your very soul. The most astonishing blue eyes you have ever seen in your life. And that face, blonde soft waves and kind face. And in that moment, you are so grateful for the fever and swollen cheeks, otherwise you would be bright red with embarrassment and wouldn’t be able to hide it.

Lena: “Actually Cassandra is not a dentist, she is actually an amazing Oral & Maxillofacial Surgeon and a good friend of mine” Lena says smiling at the doctor and both your sisters look quite impressed and a bit embarrassed for calling her a dentist without knowing exactly what her expertise or field was.

Dr. Sharpe: blushing a little – “You are very kind Lena. But don’t worry, dentistry specialties are not commonly known. But let’s get back to the most pressing matter at hand” – the woman switches back to her professional persona and imposing presence. “Y/N I need to ask you a few questions, I’m going to hold your hand and please press my hand once for YES and twice for NO, we are going to let the muscles in your mouth rest for a bit. Are you comfortable doing this? – you press her hand once to let her know you are okay with it.

Alex- laughs a little and there’s a smirk on her face – “Oh wow, that’s a great and polite way tell someone to shut it, good one doc. I wish I had used that one sooner on this one” -Alex points at you while Kara and Lena give Alex a disapproval look while you look at the doctor with teary eyes.

Kara: “Alex! don’t mock y/n. she feels bad enough and you are not helping”

Lena: “don’t be mean Alex”

You know its all good and there’s not bite behind the words. You just feel bad because you just remembered why you end up in your current predicament. By being stubborn and a brat. You feel bad for worrying your sisters and Lena and all you want to do is to apologize. But you can’t, because you were told not to speak which makes you tear up in frustration at not being able to communicate properly.

But Alex being the wonderful sister she is, she knows without you being able to say anything she just looks at your eyes and just knows what’s wrong.

Alex: “Kara come on, you know I’m just joking. I could never be mean to her. she is not crying because of that tough.” – Alex comes to sit next to you and holds your other hand – “ y/n don’t cry, I know okay? I know you are sorry, and I know you are just frustrated for not being able to speak at the moment. Please sweetie no, please don’t cry. Just listen to the doctor and we will speak later okay? – you nod at her and she tenderly brushes a few stray tears from your face. She stands to let the doctor continue with her examination.

Meanwhile Doctor Sharpe is looking at the interaction between the women and she smiles at the warm and caring dynamic among you all. She is quite intrigue about how soft Lena is with them and more importantly she was becoming quite smitten by you, you had that power over people. You didn’t have to do much, you y/n Danvers had something that automatically draws people in and your eyes are so expressive and innocent that the good doctor can’t fight the urge to look at them and feel something she wasn’t expecting nor she had felt in a very very long time. She is taken out of her reverie when she hears Alex mentioning the examination she was supposed to be doing right about now.

Dr. Sharpe: “Riiight, yes sorry. Ok so here we go. From what I was told by Lena and your sisters the pain your experienced was bad enough to knock you out. y/n while you were unconscious, I injected you with a very strong pain medication. You should not be able to have much sensation inside your mouth, but let me ask and without traying to move or prod with your tongue, do you feel any sort of pain in your mouth?

You take a moment to take inventory of your current condition and you cannot feel any sort of pain in your mouth nor anything similar to the pain you felt by stumping your foot during your temper tantrum thrown at your big sister. You press her hand twice, saying NO, you don’t feel pain.

Dr. Sharpe: “Good, that’s good. You will experience lack of sensation for a couple of hours. Like I said it’s a strong pain reliever with a numbing agent, I gave you the best drugs available” – she winks at you. “But once that wears off you will feel very uncomfortable for at least the next 48 hours. Basically, strenuous activity can cause pressure to build up and complicate things like heavy bleeding and rupture of your stiches and of course can be extremely painful. Which unfortunately was your case. Because you haven’t developed the blood clot inside the tooth cavity, you are not suffering from what Is called dry socket, and that is not fun let me tell. It’s quite painful.”

Your eyes were comically wide in both surprise and fear.

Dr. Sharpe: “ Ok let me explain that better. Nothing to be scare about. Think about it like a lake. Yes, like a lake or a pond. After a tooth extraction, blood fills the site where the tooth was. Blood is what allows the body to heal. Just like a lake needs to be filled with water, a tooth extraction needs blood to heal. What happens during a dry socket is that the blood washes away and the site dries out too soon. When the blood clot is lost, the site lacks the blood cells and nutrients needed for healing. A dry socket is like a lake in a drought. The lake has dried up.”

You like her voice and how soothing it is. Even tough what she is saying sounds painful and scary. Your sisters and Lena are paying rapt attention to what the blonde doctor is saying.

Dr. Sharpe: “Ok so in your case you were lucky it was just the stitches, but painful, nonetheless. Dry sockets are a very common complication and can cause the healing time to extend. You did cause damage to the tissue surrounding the incision and I was not able to use stitches to close the gap without risking nerve damage. I use aviente, that is a microfibrillar collagen to help you absorb the blood to reduce the bleeding and accelerate the clot formation. I know this is a lot of information and maybe you can feel a little out of sorts due to the pain medication, but I like to explain everything to my patients.”

You could listen to her voice for hours and being explain anything she wanted to you because you liked her voice very much. You were also sporting a goofy smile towards the blue-eyed doctor while your sisters and Lena took into everything the doctor was saying.

The doctor gave you a warm smile and explained more about your condition to your sisters and Lena, making them feel much calmer now that you were okay and being tended by a very competent specialist. After the incident with your childish tantrum you learnt that Alex was about to leave to get your meds when Lena remembered her friend being back in town and she was an expert in all things dental according to Kara’s explanation. She called Cassandra Sharpe right away and her friend was able to drop everything to help her and be there for you because she knew Lena Luthor would never just call and ask for a favor in such urgent way and that only meant that you were someone very important and dear to Lena. You may be high as a kite right now and drooling like a fool, for obvious reasons, now but you certainly weren’t blind to appreciate how beautiful Cassandra Sharpe truly was. You were taken out of your daydreaming once again by the voice you could become addicted very soon.

Dr. Sharpe: “You need to be very careful Y/N, the next 8 to 12 days you need to follow the indications to a T. No hard or crunchy food, no smoking, no alcohol, no caffeine and avoid excessively greasy foods those can irritate and create infections in the tooth cavity. I noticed the drinking bottles Lena got you, those are great, please don’t let her use any kind of straws or bottles that requires suction those are a very hard no, they can easily dislodge the blood clot and that is what we are trying to prevent from happening at all cost. From what I can tell your pain tolerance is almost nonexistent and that would only create a horrible painful experience for you. Taking into consideration what I read and heard from Alex about your medical history, you can have complications due to the poor capacity for your blood to clot. The aid I use is designed to help create the clot but that takes time and you will have literally two open blood oozing wounds inside your mouth. I’m leaving a list and indications of everything you need to know, I’m getting you guys my direct line so if you have any questions or concerns you can call me right away or Lena can get ahold of me. But in the case, she is busy you can easily reach out to me. Y/N You can’t do any kind of exercise, heavy lifting, no strenuous activities even too much walking can be harmful. Try to relax and chill on the couch or your bed for the next 48 hours”

You knew your helicopter sisters and super protective Lena wouldn’t let you lift a finger in the near future. You sighed and nodded to the whole speech. You honestly felt like crap for putting your loved ones in this position, just for being stubborn and you were is no rush to be in that kind of pain again, you were going to avoid it at all cost. Besides you liked to see the bright side of things and meeting the gorgeous blonde doctor was something bright alright. Something about her was drawing you like a mot to a flame.

Alex, Kara and Lena were taking on everything Dr. Sharpe was saying like their lives depended on the words being spoken by the blonde woman.

Alex: “We will make sure she follows all your indications, and if I have any questions, I will call you right away. Thank you so much for all your help Doctor Sharpe, I cannot express how thankful we all are you were able to make a house call at such hour and leave all the important activities you probably had to put on hold”

Dr. Sharpe: “nonsenses, what are friend for right? I mean I love Lena like a sister, and she is one of my closest friends. I’ve heard a lot of stories about the wonderful Danvers sisters and I wish we could have met under better circumstances. But work and life kept me from National City and my favorite Luthor over here” She looks to where Lena standing close to Kara and gives her a very honest and tender smile. “I recently moved to National City looking for a less hectic and strenuous life, I love my job and being able to help and learn more about my field of expertise. But you know, there’s a time in your life where you need to stop and think of what you really want and need. I’m not in my 20s anymore and I needed a change. The need to settle down and have more time for me. I also missed Lee so very much, she’s been my family for a very long time, and it’s been years since we could be together in the same city for more than 2 days at the time. I just missed this amazing woman so much I just knew that if I wanted a fresh start and a place to call home it had to be wherever this amazing soul named Lena Luthor would be”

Lena started to tear up at the heartfelt words coming from the doctor, and you could sense Dr. Sharpe was a force to be reckon with and she was definitely someone very special and that she loved Lena fiercely. Wish only increased your need to know more about the blonde woman.

Lena: “Cassie why are you always trying to make me cry you beautiful idiot amazing woman. I have a reputation to uphold you know?” Lena teased and came to where the blonde woman was sitting at the coffee table in front of you and Kara. She gave the blonde a hug and whispered something in her ear that you couldn’t catch. But you saw Dr. Sharpe tear up a bit and nod against Lena’s shoulder. Suddenly you wanted to move Lena away and hold the blonde blue- eyed woman yourself. Ooookay possessive much? Damn those pain meds are really doing a number on you, what the hell? You mentally asked yourself while trying to sit up a bit since you been in a weird angle for a long time on top of Kara. You could swear you heard the words ´I love you too´ being whispered back from the blonde to Lena. You frowned.

This made the women turn in your direction, Kara helped you to sit with your back to her front while Alex kept looking at the exchange between Lena and the doctor and then at you with a smirk on her face.

Dr. Sharpe: “Okay well I guess that was a lot coming from someone you just met” she gives a nervous laugh while discretely removing a tear from her eye and continue with your examination. “And after that mushy festival, I would like to ask you y/n to really take it easy. Drink a lot of fluids and try to eat the food I listed in the sheet I gave your sisters. I will email you a more detailed list so you can have it at hand. I know it sucks no being able to eat many things but trust me y/s, I made sure to list a very good and delicious options, I swear to God and all the deities in heaven that I don’t eat rabbit food like Lena. I actually love food and I always try to make things easy for my patients. I mean they are already in pain and miserable so why make them suffer even more? I don’t like to see any of my patients in pain, that’s one of my main goals, that and to help them have a fast recovery period so they can go back to their normal lives in no time”

Kara: “wow you are a very impressive and dedicated doctor. Thank Rao Lena only has eyes for me, and we trust each other very much otherwise I would feel very intimated by you Doctor Sharpe.” Kara joked and laughs when Lena tries to slap Kara’s arm while still sporting a beaming smile at her girlfriend antics and having all her favorite ladies in the same room.

Dr. Sharpe: “Rao? As in the mythological Indian king?” – asked the blonde quite intrigued.

Everyone froze at that and Kara just giggled and said- “it’s just an expression from where I’m from but anyhoooow…what’s the verdict doctor?” – trying to change the course of the talk back to y/n.

Dr. Sharpe: “Oh, I see. That’s cool. Well Miss Y/N here needs complete and total rest for at least the next 48 hours. I would like to check on your incisions tomorrow just to make sure there’s no sign of nerve damage nor infection. And to try to gauge your pain tolerance while being out of the hard stuff and make sure you get the best option in time and avoid you experiencing any unnecessary pain. The first couple of days are the tricky ones. Reason why if you all are comfortable with, I would like to be your primary dental specialist, I’m not trying to impose or say that your current doctor is inadequate. The surgery was done perfectly. However, my concern comes from the post op care indications and the pain meds you were prescribed. Due to your medical history, the level of pain you experience today was very extreme, you doctor should have been aware of certain details to avoid searing pain based on your records. I’m sure he or she is a very competent doctor, however there are cases where the patient needs a more specialized professional, not to brag, but I am one of those professionals”. – she jokes while pointing a finger to herself.

Dr. Sharpe: “Besides any friends of Lena are friends of mine and I would hate for such a lovely girl like y/n to suffer unnecessary pain if avoidable” - her smile is kind and sincere.

You smile at the goofy doctor while being in awe of the amazing woman she is.

Lena: “Honestly Cassie you are so very humble I’m amazed you head still within the same space of your body and not floating around the streets ” – she says sarcastically with no bite behind her words, just friendly banter among close friends. “In all seriousness thank you so much for everything, I wanted to referred y/n to you as her first option, but you were so busy with the move and seminars that I never thought of asking. And her current doctor is an amazing professional as well, just not as immerse as you are in the studies of nerve damage caused by maxillofacial surgery. Nor the involvement in recent studies of sensory intervention to the face, and the you are pretty much involved in all the branches in mandibular nerve injuries”

Alex: “Absolutely, you seem to know more about what y/n needs right now and we would love for you to continue as her primary periodontist. And we have complete faith in what Lena says, to impress Lena Luthor is not an easy thing to accomplish and she speaks very highly of you. And like you said, a friend of Lena is a friend of ours as well”

Dr. Sharpe: “Perfect, that’s settles it then” – the blonde woman gives a brilliant smile to the women in front of her.

The Danvers sisters were beyond impress, if you could actually move your jaw, it would probably be hanging low near the floor at the amount of words coming out of Lena because, you were smart but that sounds like doctor Sharpe was some sort eminence in dental care. Can this woman be any more perfect?

Lena seems to be super proud of her friend and the way she talks about her work, you know Lena is beyond intelligent and crazy smart, but her friend is looking like a masterpiece created by the Gods themselves. Yes, the drugs she gave you are doing a number on you indeed.

The blonde doctor turns bright red at the words Lena just said and you think is the most wonderful thing to witness. You are in so much trouble.

You began to feel like all energy was leaving your body, you wanted to keep listening to Dr. Sharpe speak but you felt a heaviness take over your body and you still had something odd inside your mouth and all you wanted at the moment was to sleep. You tried to find a better spot within your sister arms and you brought a fist to your eye a clear sign that you were sleepy and about to get fussy.

Kara: “Someone is getting fussy over here. Dr. Sharpe are you all done, or you need her awake for a bit longer?” -Kara asked while traying to cradle you in a way you felt more comfortable.

Dr. Sharpe: “Oh my, I’m so sorry we kept talking and time got away from us. Yes, just hold her head like before and I will remove the mouth peace and apply the antiseptic and anesthetic gel really quick”

Doctor Sharpe was very quick to clean her hands and put on a new pair of latex gloves and very gently you felt your mouth being held again by those soft hands, and nimble fingers remove something spongy feeling that was placed inside your mouth. Then you saw when she grabbed something from a bag you haven’t noticed before and continue to properly finish wherever she was doing at the moment, finally you felt a sort of cold liquid and that was it.

Dr. Sharpe: “Ok all done. Sorry I got distracted for a moment. But you are all set y/n. You can now try to talk if you want but avoid making too much facial movements or prod the gaps with your tongue. I know is tempting, because you may feel a funny sensation around the tissue or just of out curiosity, please don’t do it. Rinse the extraction site with warm salt water 2 times a day for 1 week beginning tomorrow afternoon. Don’t let her take any of the medications on an empty stomach. If for any reason you experience discomfort or any problems, do not hesitate to call Okay?”

Y/N: “Thank you” – you replied very quietly and with a timid voice. Your sisters and Lena found that odd as you are always a ball of sunshine and not really shy. But then you had to do it, because of course you would…

Y/N: “So that means no corn dogs, right?”- you sheepishly asked.

Dr. Sharpe laughs a little – “No, sorry honey. You can’t eat those right now”

Kara and Lena just hide their smirks at the cheeky comment and Alex being the more mature of you all just gives you a look and you know you need to stop right now.

Alex: “Very well, you heard that y/n? no corn dogs and stick to what Dr. Sharpe is saying. You don’t want to be in pain and you will have tasty food options. So, shush you menace”

You sigh in relief that your sister is not really mad, and you honestly don’t want to prolong the time you need for recovery by doing something stupid, again.

Kara: “Okaay on that note, I’m taking this one to her room and tuck her in. Dr. Sharpe you should totally come to our games night, there’s wine, beer, food lots and lots of food and obviously games. We’re not sure when the next one will be though, until y/n right here feels better that’s for sure. But again, thank so much for all you’ve done tonight”

Alex: “Yes, I’ll be there in a moment, I will stay with her tonight. She tends to move in her sleep, like A LOT and I don’t want her hitting her face or putting to much pressure on her cheeks by lying on her side or stomach. If she is being held, she stays still”

Y/N: “No I don’t, Alex don’t say that” – you’re mortified by what your sister just said in front of the hot doctor and you want to hide your embarrassment.

Kara just snorts and Lena shakes her head. However, the blonde doctor seems to be pretty amused by that statement and looks at you with something you can’t quite decipher, she doesn’t look disgusted or mad. Her eyes seem to shine even brighter at that, and a smile so warm directed at you that you feel butterflies in your stomach. You are in so much trouble.

Dr. Sharpe: “You are just the cutest y/n. I think I’m going to have a blast getting to know you all now that I’m in National City. Now Alex, I think that’s a wise choice. An ice pack should be applied to the face as soon as possible, hold it for 20 minutes and then removed it for 20 more. Do it for a few hours, it will help minimize swelling”

Alex: “Of course, we have several ice packs ready. Thank you again for everything and it sure is a pleasure to meet you Doctor Sharpe I hope you can come to our game night; they are pretty fun and stress relivers. You can text us what time is best for y/n check up tomorrow or if you think it’s better for us to take her to your office…”

Dr. Sharpe: “Please, call me Cassandra Dr. Sharpe is way to formal and I would love to join you, just let me know what I need to bring and the time and date. About tomorrow, just call me whenever y/n is awake, and I can come to check on her pain level and make sure the clots are forming. It’s better for her to stay home so I think it’s easier for me to just stop by.”

Lena was looking at the exchange with curiosity, she seems to notice how her doctor friend was being towards y/n, she knew her well and her eyes never sparkle like that. At least not just at anyone and she hasn’t seen that look in a very long time. It was a good luck on her, however Lena was very protective of y/n, so she was going to have a nice long chat with her doctor friend very soon.

y/n was fading fast, so Kara just said a quick goodbye to the blonde doctor and walk out of the room with y/n in her arms while saying something about lunch or food. You weren’t quite sure.

Y/N: “Byeeeee doctor pretty eyes” – you said with a goofy smile and obviously losing all sense of shame and inhibition the sleepier you got. You gave a cute wave and you let yourself being carried away to your room.

The blonde doctor just gave you a big smile and waved back at you.

Dr. Sharpe: “See you tomorrow cutie, sleep tight”

Yes, things were about to get very interesting soon.

Next Part 4: dry sockets...

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Note: I don't know how or when it happened. The story took a twist without me actually knowing. somehow while thinking about this 3rd part i just kept seeing these scenes playing on my mind and my fingers just kept typing. I just realized how much i written and i was shocked to see it was at least twice the amount of words from the two previous parts. Let me know what you think, I never imagined this story to become so long. But bear with me, this is the first time I have written anything like this and i guess i still need to control my thoughts. Still i kept the same idea of baby Danvers being her silly cute and adorable self while being taken care and dot over her sisters and Lena. I just added something extra that I hope you'd enjoy. Please let me know what you think. I made this fluffier to compensate from the angst on Part 2, However don't think the pain is over (I laugh evilly and I slowly walk away)

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#baby danvers #baby!danvers #alex x baby danvers #origial character #supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor imagine #lena x reader #lena x supergirl #lena luthor #kara x reader #kara danvers imagine #kara danvers #alex danvers #fanfic

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kookicat · 4 years

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The Price of Peace pt2

So I wrote a second part to this fic-

Full thing is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907364/chapters/71064504

The Morning After

He wakes slowly, swimming up from sleep like he’s climbing through slowly setting cement. It clings to him, and if he wasn’t in dire need of a piss and a drink, he’d give in, let it pull him back under because he hurts all over. He bites back a groan and focuses on his breathing, falling into the old exercises easily, until some of the pain eases. His face is the worst, the hairline fracture in his cheek throbbing like a bad tooth. In fact, it’s making the entire side of his face hurt and he lifts a shaky hand, feeling the heat and swelling and realises belatedly he should have iced it before he passed out. They have instant ice packs, somewhere, but he doesn’t feel up to hunting though three rooms to find them.

He drops the footrest on the recliner and sets his feet on the floor, bracing his ribs with his bad arm as he levers himself upright. Moving lights up his ribs and shoulder like he’s dropped a match in a box of fireworks; all bright flashes and pain burning along his nerves. The room spins violently and he closes his eyes, hanging onto the chair with all the strength he has left, because he’d rather shoot himself in the head than pass out and have one of the team find him. Probably in a puddle of piss too, he thinks sourly and lets out the unsteady breath he’s been holding.

The dizzy spell passes and he shuffles towards the bathroom, feeling three times his age. His knees ache with every step. He pees and moves over to the sink, washing his hands before turning on the little light and examining his battered face critically in the mirror. He’s looked worse, he’s sure, but he damn well can’t remember when. The skin over his cheekbone is black with bruising, puffy from the swelling that covers his whole eye socket. What isn’t bruised is pale and faintly clammy until he soaks a washcloth and wipes his face. He opens his mouth, carefully, feeling the click deep inside of his jaw he didn’t have before the fight, and runs a finger over his teeth.

Nothing seems to be wrong, but he knows he’s probably going to have to visit his dentist when he gets back home. It’s all part and parcel of the life, but sometimes- especially deep in the AM, when he’s hurting and exhausted and sleep is eluding him, he wishes he had a different job. Something that doesn’t leave him littered with bruises and other people’s blood. Something clean, but he knows he left any chance of that behind him a long time ago and there’s no use pining for things you can’t reclaim.

Someone has left a fresh hoodie and pair of sweatpants on the vanity and while he’s desperate for a shower, he knows he’s not quite steady enough to risk it for now. The thought of falling on his ass in the shower makes him wince for multiple reasons; he’d probably never live it down, for a start. The small gesture touches him though, brings a fleeting smile to his lips before he turns the light off and eases the door open.

Sophie is curled into a ball in the middle of the bed, eye mask firmly in place, blankets wrapped around her like a cocoon. She stirs as he passes the bed, shoving at the mask with one hand so she can squint at him. “Eliot?” she asks, sounding sleepy, confused, then sits up as the events come back to her, smoothing her hands over her hair to bring it to some kind of order. “How are you doing? Why are you up?”

He blinks at the rapid fire questions. “Yes, fine and needed to use the facilities,” he says dryly and hopes like hell it’s too dark for her to get a good look at him, because once she does, that lie is going to sink faster than a lead balloon.

She reaches for the lamp and switches it on, and he knows he’s blown. He curls his injured arm around his ribs as she runs her gaze over him, frowning. “You call this fine?” she asks, but there’s no anger in her words, just a tired sort of resignation that’s somehow almost worse. “Sit back down, I'll get you an ice pack and the pills the Doc gave you. "

He retreats to the recliner, grabbing a spare pillow off the bed and taking it with him. It hurts to lower himself back down and he bites the inside of his lip, holding a heartfelt groan inside. He folds the pillow and rests his bad arm on it, taking some of the strain off his shoulder which helps, then hits the button to raise the footrest and braces himself, twisting so he’s curled on his good side. The movement whites out the room for a long couple of seconds and when he blinks back to awareness, Sophie is standing next to him, hands full of supplies, eyes full of worry.

“I’m-” - fine, he starts to say, then closes his mouth because he’s pretty sure they both know it’s not even vaguely true. Spit pools in his mouth as the nausea from earlier comes back and he gulps, taking small breaths to settle his stomach, but it’s no good.

Sophie gets the trash can under his chin just in time as he retches, bringing up what little he has in his stomach. It fills him with agony; jolting his ribs, his shoulder, making his head throb so badly he wishes it would just fall off and put him out of his misery. If he had the breath, he’s pretty sure he’d be groaning right now. The worst of it passes and he flops back against the seat, utterly drained.

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely, swiping an unsteady hand over his mouth, probing his lip which is bleeding again. He presses the side of his thumb against it and lets his breathing settle.

“You did the same for me,” she says, and takes the trash can into the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth. “It’s about time I got to return the favour.”

He intercepts her hand as she tries to wipe his face, taking the cloth gently, because the thought of anyone touching him right now makes his stomach clench in a knot. “The bad clams,” he says faintly and wipes his mouth.

“You did try to warn me.” She shakes her head, holding back a laugh. “What do you need, Eliot?”

It’s stupid, after everything they’ve been through, but he feels awkward asking for stuff. “Can you grab my bag?” he asks, because he keeps a kit in there for just this situation.

“Of course.” She presses a bottle of Gatorade into his hands, along with the bottle of pills the doc gave him. He glances at the label; it’s a combined muscle relaxant and painkiller that he’s taken before. The full dose knocks him out, and that sounds like a blessing right about now.

His stomach rolls at the thought of drinking anything, but he knows that he needs the fluids and cracks the top on the bottle, swallowing a single mouthful to see if it’ll stay down. It makes him feel a little queasy, but there’s no sign it’s going to come back up, so he swallows another mouthful, then closes the cap, resting his head against the chair, knowing he needs food before he can take any pills.

“Here.” Sophie leans his bag on the arm of the chair, then reaches down to pick up the discarded blanket, shaking it out over his legs. Neither of them had bothered to change the room’s air con setting, and it’s chilly.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, and digs into the bag, pulling out a pack of plain crackers and a box of Zofran. He lets the bag slide to the floor and jams the bottle between his hip and the chair so he can open the box of Zofran, popping out a tablet. He swallows it with a sip of Gatorade, licking his lips. He needs food and sleep and the painkillers in equal measure so he tears open the wrapper around the crackers, pulling one out.

Chewing hurts, and he spends a fleeting second wishing he was home, with access to his freezer and the homemade soups he keeps stocked there. There’s a lemon chicken broth that would hit the spot right now, but he pushes the thought away and takes another bite of cracker, convincing himself it’s just as good. Once he’s swallowed the full thing, he fumbles open the box of painkillers and pops one out, washing it down with a mouthful of Gatorade that tastes more like chemicals than the fruit punch it claims to be.

Sophie is dozing on the sofa, hair in her face, body curled into a ball. It makes him smile, because it’s rare to see her with her guard down. They’re alike in that way, though she hides behind masks, slipping through personas with an ease that unnerves him occasionally. He hides his true self behind a carefully curated image, letting people see what they want, the hitter, the easy mark, letting them underrate him so he can get in close for the sucker punch. He’s let a lot of that go, since joining the team, but it’s so ingrained now it’s a conscious effort most of the time.

He yawns, putting an end to his mental rambling, and shifts, already feeling the drugs getting to work. There’s still a good couple of hours before morning, when he has to pick himself up, drive the mask back into place and be the Eliot they all need him to be; unflappable, untouchable. It’s a heavy mask to wear sometimes but it’s a weight that he’s well used to carrying now, and it’s one that gets lighter for every month he spends with the team. They can carry each other, fill the gaps. Together they’re whole, and that’s a damn comforting thought. It brings a smile to his lips as he closes his eyes and lets himself rest.

#the tap out job #leverage #eliot spencer #eliot whump #whump #episode tag #part two #sophie devereaux #hurt/comfort #friendship #hurt eliot spencer #eliot spencer whump

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #452

“what i’ve felt, what i’ve known, never shined doing what i’ve shown / never free, never me, so i dub thee unforgiven”

Are you a part of the LGBTQ+ community? I am. Do you have Tiktok? Are you addicted? I don't. Do you enjoy being outside? IF it's cool outside, yes. Do you like being around kids? No, not really. Have you ever gotten Covid-19? No. What's your ethnicity? Caucasian. If you were president, what's the first change you would make? I'd probably put in place free healthcare first. What is an animal that you'd like to have as a pet but it's not allowed? If an animal shouldn't be a pet, there's a reason. So none. What was your favorite meal as as kid? Has it changed now? It was spaghetti. I still love it, but it's not my favorite now. Which doctor is your least favorite? Primary, eye, dentist, gynecologist, etc. Potential TMI answer follows. So, the VERY easy answer is gynecologist. Like, I've never even BEEN to one because I'm too scared. Not because I think they'll find anything wrong, but because I'm just very self-conscious about stuff like that and I do fucking not want some random stranger laying a goddamn finger on me like that. My doctor is really pushing me to go by now though as a safety precaution, but I just really, really don't want to. Do you feel that you'd be any good at solving a murder? No. I'm so clueless. You own a dragon, but it doesn't breathe fire; what comes out instead? Water, I guess? That could be beneficial in a lot of ways. Have you ever been sprayed by a giant rain puddle when a car passed by? No. Do you remember the last movie you saw while on a date? Yeah, IT with Girt. What color is your iPod? Hot pink. Do you think baby clothes are adorable? Ha ha yeah, I just tend to like miniature things in general, and babies are just... miniature humans lmao. Whose house did you last sleep over at? Sara's. If you could adopt 3 unique pets, what would you get? A plains hognose morph (probably a lavender, or snow?), a Brazilian black tarantula, andddd... an African fat-tailed gecko morph. What grade are you in, if you’re still in school? I'm not in school. Do you get a lot of tourists in the area where you live? Hell no, there's not shit here. Do you enjoy watching vlogs? Only occasionally by certain people I like. What was the last new video game you were excited about? It really sucks I don't have the appropriate console to play it myself, but I was SUPER stoked for Resident Evil 8: Village to be released and literally watched like four different playthroughs at the same time, ha ha. Have you ever talked about your period with a guy? Were they okay with it, or grossed out? In a three-and-a-half years intimate relationship, it obviously came up before. He didn't care, because he wasn't 12. Have you ever been to small church/bible group/study? Forced to or wanted to? I was forced to go to Sunday school, as well as church. Have you ever been to an Asian (any type) market? If so, what is the closest one to you? I've never seen one here, even. How would you feel if your significant other had tattoos? That'd be a bonus to how physically attracted I was to them, probably, lol. I just love tattoos. Where was the last place on your body that you felt physical pain? My uterus is screaming. :') What are you listening to right now? I am fucking unhealthily obsessed with Violet Orlandi & Skar's cover of "The Unforgiven" by Metallica lkasdjkflawjerwr like I will not stop listening to it lol. Last person you texted? My mom. Have you ever gone out of your way to make someone happy? Yes. Is there a certain person that makes you feel safe? My mom. Have you ever used a chainsaw? Nooo, and I don't want to. Do you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa? crihmuh Ever been so stunned, no words came out? Oh yes. Ever written that you were going to end your life? I have. I was fucking stupid and made a suicide note on Facebook. I genuinely wanted everyone on there to know what they meant to me, so like it seriously wasn't for attention, which I still worry people think that. Ever put fake bugs around your house to scare someone? Not to scare people, no. I have two faux tarantulas in my room as decor, though. Is there a reason you have the name you do? Not particularly. My parents just liked it, ig. Choose: the best song by Green Day? Aw, that's way too hard! I love Green Day. I guess if I absolutely had to pick, maybe "21 Guns." It's just a truly beautiful song. Have you ever tried to “save”, or “fix” someone, before? No. I don't believe that works and only damages you. Were ethics discovered or invented? That's a good question. I really can't say I know. Do you put effort into getting tan during the summer? Nah. Are you a fairly self-motivated person? NO. I need external motivation pretty badly. Be honest, does the person you like actually deserve you? Or are they actually not worthy of your affections? I don't deserve him. List 5 things that have been on your mind most recently. 1.) wtf I feel about Girt and wtf to do about it; 2.) my weight; 3.) what job I'm going to search for once I make progress at the gym; 4.) whether or not to quit photography and focus my efforts elsewhere; and 5.), as always, Jason. What is better, history or science? Science is way more interesting. Do you flinch at the sight of blood? No. Do you enjoy swimming? Yeah. When you swear, is it usually in general or directed at someone? In general. I don't generally swear at people. Are any of your friends hoping to be famous one day? Yeah; I've got a couple of musician friends. Who would you kiss right now if you could kiss anyone? GO AWAY Ever slapped a guy in the face? No. I don't hit people. Do you think you’re a good friend? I sure try to be. Have you ever thrown your cell phone in anger? When? I have on only one occasion when I Jason and I were texting and he pissed me off. I don't remember what we were even talking about now. My phone was fine btw, ha ha, I didn't like, chuck it. What color of hair do you find the sexiest on the opposite gender? Out of the natural hair colors, black. But I really like hair that's dyed exotic colors on like... anyone. Have you slept over at a member of the opposite sex’s house in their bed? Yeah. When you lost your virginity, were you sober? Yeah. Have you ever given your phone number to somebody you met online? Quite a few people, actually. Most of my friendships are online. On average, how much does gas cost where you live? When I was out today, it was $2.99. Why are you happy? Who said I was? I'm not happy. What is in your pocket? Nothing. What was the worst feeling you last felt? Severe indecision. Worthlessness. Yesterday had some grim periods. What would you name your future son? I always answer with the first name, "Damien," so let's see about a middle name... uhhhh... maybe Damien James? I'm not really sure about a middle name, but that sounds nice. What are you waiting for? Girt to message me back. He barely touches Facebook, so I can't blame him, but I wanna plan a day for him to visit and we can hang and I can decide what the fuck it is I feel towards him. What takes your breath away? Big waterfalls, to name a major one. What fact of life would you rather not know about? That the world doesn't give a fuck about you. It sounds super pessimistic, I know, but it doesn't. There is no sentience to it, no will to keep you safe and happy, it just... exists, and we're thrown onto it to figure it out. Unfair things happen. That's life. ... Damn, this answer was dark lol. What’re a few things that automatically make you go, “Awww?” Meerkat pups doing so much as blinking, guys being really cute with kids, seeing elderly couples holding hands and just generally being precious, proposals (especially gay ones just because of how hard that was fought for), seeing literally any picture in existence of Mark and Amy together, veterans coming home and their dogs freaking out... Man, a lot of things. This question brightened my mood to think about. :') Are you easily scared by horror movies? Nah. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? Illinois to visit Sara. :') I really wanna hang. Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? No, but a former best friend had her bday a day before mine. Are you wearing a ring? I always wear two. Do you hate to hug people? No, I love hugs. How many rooms does your house consist of? Seven. If you could be on any TV show, which would it be and why? Can I be a Pokemon trainer, pls???? What would you want to be famous for? Most ideally, a great wildlife photographer. The kind photography students would see and be inspired by. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? No, I sleep with a real animal, ha ha. What is your favorite brand of hairspray? I don’t have one. What is in your backyard? Not very much... I'm barely ever even out there, so I barely know. There's one shed, a small tree, and uh... idk. Who is/was your favorite teacher? I have a few. Mrs. Whitley, Mr. Proctor, Coach Collie, and Miss Tobey are some. What’s your favorite non-sexual thing to do with a girl/boy? Play video games together. Do you cheer for the bad guy? Ha, I have a tendency to do that... Would you rather start a new career or a new relationship? Career. I want one so very badly. Something on the human body that grossest you out the most: So even though I am sexually attracted to any gender, nevertheless, genitalia gross me the fuck out. Either kind. Penises especially though like what the fuck- Do you think it’s easier to raise a boy a girl? Why? From most parents, I've heard boys are much easier because girls (supposedly) tend to have more of an attitude. What is your favorite strawberry flavored food? Strawberry is generally my favorite flavor for like, everything, so this is just about impossible. Maybe uhhh slushies? What is the oldest video game system you’ve played? An Atari.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''the unforgiven'' by metallica

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planetsam · 4 years

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Love your Walt adopts Michael fic!! Any chance we might see more of it beyond the 2nd chapter? Maybe some more if the early days where Michael is learning to trust Walt?

The silence is so thick Walt thinks he can hear his own hair grow.

“Well what’d you do before?” He asks, “when you went to those other schools?”

Michael looks down and pushes around his cereal. Walt gets the feeling that he isn’t going to like the answer. Not that he has a whole lot of faith in the system, but Michael seems determined to show him how god awful it really is. The kid has medical records, he’s seen them. But he doesn’t believe for a second they’re accurate.

“Sometimes my foster’s would forge them,” he says, “I’d usually just piss the doctor off enough that they’d sign them so I would go away,” he shrugs, “or I’d forge them.”

“You’re forging documents?” Walt repeats incredulously.

Michael bristles and puffs up. Walt takes another drink of his coffee. Dealing with an alien is hard, dealing with an orphan is hard. Dealing with Michael’s prepubescent hormones makes him want to throw himself out of the window. Walt doesn’t think he could have gotten him at a worse time if he’d actively been trying for it. He can’t quite figure out if there’s a specific thing that sets him off or if it’s just everything. It seems to be the later.

“My species matures faster,” Michael says.

“I didn’t realize you were such an expert,” he says.

Michael’s glare almost makes him regret saying it. But he’s done stupider things to scarier people. Michael might be telekinetic and he may owe the boy something he can never repay, but Michael’s still a punk kid. Walt’s read enough parenting books to know you can’t just give kids whatever they want. You gotta discipline them. But not like the disciplining his old man used to do. Walt refuses to be that kind of person. The disciplining was kind where you said you were disappointed in them and they shaped up because that was supposed to be worse than being mad. Walt doesn’t believe it works on anything except tv but he’s got a preteen alien sitting at his kitchen counter so he’s going to try.

“So you’ve never been to a doctor?” He says. Michael shakes his head, “dentist? Any medical professional?”

“Of course not, I’d be in a lab somewhere if I did.”

“How do you know that?”

Michael stares at him. Walt knows he’s full of shit, that he’s the farthest thing from an expert on aliens despite being one. The old guilt churns through him. He got time with Miss Nora, time that Michael needed more than him. He ran away as a kid but he was able to find out about his own body. What he could and couldn’t do. Aside from being able to move things with his mind, he’s not sure Michael knows anything. Michael pushes his cereal around as Walt waits for his answer.

“May I be excused?” Michael asks in a weird impression of an obedient child. Walt chokes on his coffee.

“What? No,” he sputters, “where’d you learn manners?”

“Two families ago,” Michael says. Fucking smartass.

“And how do you know you can’t go to the doctor?” Walt asks.

Michael says nothing.

Walt can see where this is going a mile away. More than a mile if he’s being honest. He doesn’t need two eyes to see that Michael looks like a scared kid with a secret. God knows he used to see the look on his own face enough to recognize it, even if it’s been a damn long time since he saw it. Dropping it isn’t going to help either, he’s a bad sell on a good day in the parenthood department. He’s surprised he got approved at all after the way the social worker looked at the junkyard.

“Did one of the others tell you that?” He ventures.

Michael freezes and the look on his face shifts to horror. How the hell this kid is going to keep being an alien a secret is beyond Walt. They’re going to need a lot of rules. He’d say that he’s surprised Michael has kept it a secret this long, but the exorcism would say otherwise. Before Michael can sputter another lie or choke on his cereal or something, Walt decides to put him out of his misery.

“Your mom led me to the eggs,” he says, “I know there were three of you.”

“We were found by the side of the road,” Michael says, shifting from horrified to angry.

“I was younger than you when I found the eggs,” Walt says, “you ready to take care of three kids?”

Michael has the grace to look down, shake his head and mutter an apology. It doesn’t make Walt feel much better but right now he’s the adult. He doesn’t need anyone to hold his hand of absolve him of his sins. Especially not when it comes to the aliens. Michael shifts his weight and licks his bottom lip before looking up at him carefully. Walt can’t imagine the war going on in Michael’s head. Or, actually, he can. He doesn’t know where he comes out in all of this or why the hell Michael should trust him.

“Max can heal,” he says, “humans and us. He knows we’re different.”

Walt nods, he guesses it was too much to hope that something in this would be easy. He sighs and picks up the paper. The idea of Michael having to forge documents is not one he wants to entertain. He almost signs the damn thing himself. But Michael is a kid, if for some reason they get caught he can blame any number of things. If Walt gets caught, Michael goes to someone else. When he looks up at Michael, the boy is watching him intently. Walt slides the paper over to him. Michael goes for it eagerly and Walt puts his hand over it.

“You tell me when you do this kind of thing,” he says, “you shouldn’t be doing it at all but we don’t have a choice. The way I see it, here’s the safest place for you right now. But there’s gonna be a lot of lying involved so we gotta be honest with each other. Think you can do that?”

“Yeah,” Michael says and Walt believes him. He watches as Michael hunches over and gets to work, “I gotta do this for Max and Iz too,” he says and glances upwards.

Belatedly Walt realizes he’s asking for permission.

“Whatever you gotta do,” he says.

A few days later when Michael asks to go on a camping trip with them, Walt agrees and ignores the stupid feeling in his gut. He makes sure Michael has the phone number to the cell he’s got on him, then he makes sure he can recite it from memory. It’s just supposed to be one night and Walt tells himself that they are human enough that nothing terrible is going to happen. But when the damn phone shows a number he doesn’t recognize, he realizes how stupid the reassurances have been.

“You okay?” He asks instantly. There’s silence, in the background he thinks he can hear someone crying, “Michael,” he says, “remember what we talked about?”

“I need you to come pick us up,” Michael says finally, “I—“ he hesitates.

“Am sorry to wake me up?” Walt says, already pulling on his boots, “don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks,” Michael says.

He gives where they are and Walt hauls ass to the location. Michael is standing near the road looking anxiously out. A ways back Walt can see Max and Isobel huddled together. It’s odd to see them all together. He hasn’t since the group home. Michael is skittish but stubborn as he gets out. Walt looks him up and down.

“You hurt?” Michael shakes his head and Walt exhales, “you need my help?”

“We took care of it,” Michael says, “we just need a ride,” he licks his bottom lip, “please.”

Walt wants to demand answers to what it is and what they took care of, but he can see the desperation on Michael’s face. It’s almost as heartbreaking as him asking for help with a please or the look on the twins behind him. Walt reasons that what was done here is done, there’s no fixing it. So he motions them into the car. The three of them nearly collapse with relief and Walt wonders if this is the first time that they’ve gotten help from an adult. He helps them pile their stuff into his truck and watches as Max helps Isobel in and scrambles after her.

“Are they hurt?” He asks Michael when they close the door.

“Not physically,” Michael says.

“I guess that’s the important part right now,” Walt says, “get in.”

Michael scrambles in and he gets in after him. No-one speaks, the only sound is Isobel’s heavy breathing which echoes loudly in the car. Michael reaches over and turns on the radio, finding something that covers up the sound. Walt watches the three of them move seamlessly, taking care of one another in little ways that seem almost instinctual. Hell, maybe they are. What the hell does he know about families and how they take care of each other? No-one says anything as they drive. Walt gets off the main way and drives to a quieter place and pulls over, killing the engine.

“I know you all want to go home,” he says, “but your parents are going to want to know why.”

“Don’t you?” Max asks. There’s a quiet authority in his voice that’s damn unnerving.

“Course I do,” Walt says, “but I want you all safe more than that.”

“I killed someone.”

Walt whips around. Max meets his eyes but there’s no defiance in his. It’s that same authority. He killed someone and he knows why he did it. That’s damn powerful stuff. Walt feels sick at the sight of it. That’s not an expression anyone should wear, but especially not a kid. Isobel lets out a shuddering breath that gives away exactly why Max feels so justified. He’s almost afraid to look at Michael but he forces himself to do it anyway. Michael’s head hangs and the guilt rolls off him in almost palpable waves. When he raises his eyes to Walt’s, they’re bright. But he swallows and forces the emotions back.

“I buried him,” Michael says.

Walt hates the relief he feels.

“Deep?” He asks, “shallow graves—“

“He’s buried deeply,” Michael cuts in.

Walt almost tells him to not interrupt and then stops. That isn’t something important right now. He looks between the three of them and sighs. It’s not important but he’s getting the feeling that this is their life. He’d better get used to it.

“Don’t interrupt,” Walt says. Michael raises his eyebrows, “I’m not putting your manners on hold until weird shit stops happening, I’ll be old and grey if we wait that long.”

“You’re already grey,” Michael points out.

“Grey-er,” Walt corrects, “the way I see it I can take you all home or I can take you all nearby and give you a night to sort out your feelings. It’s not a lot but—“

“Nearby,” Isobel croaks.

Both the boys nod and the decision is made. Walt puts the car in gear and takes them nearby where he found them. When he goes to get their tent and gear out, none of them look thrilled at the prospect. He doesn’t blame them.

“Get your sleeping bags out,” he says, “you can camp out in the back,” Max and Isobel trade looks.

“What?” Michael says, “he knows what we are, I don’t think Max wetting the bed is gonna upset him.”

Max lets out an indignant squawk and suddenly they’re teenagers again. Or two of them are. Isobel still smiles though which is a lot better than the look she was wearing a few minutes ago. The three of them clamber into the back. It’s not the first night that Walt’s spent in his car, but it definitely wasn’t on his plans for the night. Still it’s kind of nice to hear the three of them talking in the back of the truck. The world’s going to be a mess in the daylight, but he hopes that one night of feeling safe will mean something. Somehow. He closes his eyes and opens them and it’s somehow daylight and the three of them are standing there.

“Here,” Michael says, handing him a paper cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” he takes it, looks at the time and swears, “lets get you back before your parents freak out,” they all climb in, “happy birthday,” he adds.

He drops them off and drives him and Michael home.

“Come here,” he says before Michael can get in the house. He leads him to another part of the junkyard and opens up the hatch, “I found this when I bought the place,” he says. Michael looks nervous and Walt rolls his eyes, “you think if I wanted to hurt you I wouldn’t have done it last night?”

That makes sense to Michael and he shrugs, following Walt down the ladder. Walt’s done his best to clean out the dust and get some damn lights going, but it hasn’t been the easiest job to finish Michael’s back. He supposes that the work’ll go faster if it’s the two of them. Michael looks around the space slowly, taking in the white board and couch Walt has down there.

“I figured you might need your own space, when things get crazy. Or you need to do your alien thing,” Walt says, “it’s deep enough you shouldn’t disturb anything up there.”

“This is mine?” Michael repeats.

“I know it’s not much but I figured—“

He’s not expecting Michael to throw himself at him or squeeze the daylights out of him. It’s an objectively awful hug. Awful enough to make Walt’s good eye tear up and his throat tighten. But only because it’s a damn shame no-one taught the boy to hug properly, not because the kid’s hugging him at all. He claps him back on the shoulder which is what you’re supposed to do. He thinks. Hell do either of them have any business hugging?

“Happy Birthday,” he says.

“Thank you.”

#michael guerin #walt sanders #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #michael sanders #malex #malex fic #Roswell nm fic #roswell nm fanfic #max evans #Isobel Evans

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firstdegreefangirl · 4 years

Text

Eddie Week Day Four: Between The Sheets

Word Count: 2135

Original Pub Date: 17 June 2020

Relationships: Eddie Diaz/Evan Buckley

Author's Note: This whole thing started with a convo in @rebeccaofsbfarm's inbox, so blame/credit to her for helping me cheat my way through this prompt! Love youuuu

Read on ao3 here

Just like aways, tagging: @eddiediazweek @hearteyesforbuck @thisissirius @hearteyesforbuck @dramamineontopofme @twinien @meloingly @myemergence

Eddie pushes the front door open, almost trips over his own feet trying to step across the threshold. Buck is right behind him, laughing when Eddie doesn’t pick his feet up far enough and catches his toe on the lip of the doorframe.

“Shut up, I just want to shower and go to bed.” He grumbles, leaning both palms against the wall for balance as he toes his shoes off.

They’d stopped at a drive-thru on the way to the house, Eddie riding in the passenger seat of Buck’s Jeep because he was already too exhausted to drive. He’d tried to wave Buck off at the mention of food but Buck ordered for him anyway, shoving a cardboard container of chicken nuggets and fries in his lap and threatening to drive circles around town until he’d eaten it all.

The long shift had drained the last reserves of energy from the entire team, but Eddie had taken a harder hit than the rest, having spent half of the night before sitting up in Christopher’s bed and rubbing his back after a bad dream.

“I know, that’s why I had to drive you home. Thanks for the couch invite, by the way. Way better than another 15 minutes behind the wheel.”

“Anytime, man.” Eddie rocks on his feet as he leans away from the wall, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. “You want first shower?”

“You never leave any hot water.” But Buck’s eyes soften when he sees the way Eddie can barely hold himself up. “But you’re not going to make it if I shower first …" He trails off, and Eddie can feel him mulling something over.

Watching Buck think is only making him more tired, so he leans his back against the wall and sighs.

“What, Buck? You going to say we should shower together?” He turns his head just far enough to see Buck out the corner of his eye.

“I mean, we change together at work. Why not kill two birds with one stone? It’s not like I’ve never seen you naked.”

Eddie thinks about what Buck said, processes the words as they roll through his brain. He’s all but dead on his feet, but he has to admit that there’s a certain amount of logic to what Buck is saying.

They’ve gotten dressed side by side countless times since Eddie joined the 118, stood naked underneath separate showerheads in the open-layout shower at the station.

Buck is right, he’s pretty sure. There’s not much difference between catching a glimpse of your buddy in the locker room and standing in the same bathtub to shower.

Besides, it won’t be weird unless he makes it weird, right?

“True.” Eddie nods and stands back upright, careful not to overbalance himself and faceplant. “Works for me.” He wonders briefly if falling asleep in the shower would be considered “weird,” if Buck would catch him if he toppled over underneath the spray.

It would, but Buck would anyway, he decides as he leads Buck down the hall to the master bath.

They stand next to each other to undress, shoulder-to-shoulder but facing opposite directions. It’s not a production, just the way they wind up, each of them watching behind the other, having each other’s backs.

When the water is hot enough to fog up the mirror, Eddie pulls the door back and they step over the edge to face each other under the showerhead. The air is thick with steam, enough humidity that Buck’s hair starts to curl almost right away. Eddie focuses carefully on a ringlet that’s wrapped around the top of his ear, knows that he has to keep his eyeline above Buck’s shoulders, lest he make his best friend uncomfortable.

Here’s the thing: Eddie’s never thought of his shower as particularly small. It’s got more than enough room for him to maneuver, a showerhead with more settings than he has fingers and a glass door that lets in enough light to open the space up without flooding the bathroom.

But apparently when two grown men stand in it at the same time, it’s just tight enough that Eddie has to think carefully about his every move. How can he reach for the shampoo without touching Buck’s bicep? Can he lean back far enough to rinse the suds out of his hair without invading Buck’s personal space? Can he lean back that far without falling over, on account of the exhaustion dragging through his limbs?

He can, it turns out, but he’s really too tired to have to actively think about it. Maybe Buck’s big idea saved them a few minutes, but by the time they’re painstakingly switching positions, letting Buck run his hair under the water and wash the lather from his body, he’s exponentially more drained than he was when they walked in the front door.

Thankfully, they’re both able to clean themselves up and dry off without bumping into one another. There’s enough space in the open bathroom for them to stand a couple of feet apart as they wrap themselves in fresh towels, and Eddie tosses Buck a clean pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt when he’s digging through his dresser drawers.

They don’t face each other when they’re getting dressed, leave enough space between them again to avoid any unintentional contact. But when Buck stands up, Eddie winces in sympathy at the way his back pops. Through the haze of his exhaustion, he realizes that Buck probably shouldn’t sleep on the couch tonight, especially not if his back is already making sounds like that. A solution pops into his mind and falls out of his mouth all in one fell swoop, before he can realize what he’s saying.

“Sleep in my bed.”

Buck turns around as he pulls the shirt down over his stomach, eyes going wide in surprise.

“What?”

“Your back popped,” like that explains it. “Sleep in my bed.”

“Eddie … I’m not kicking you out of your own room.”

“No, you’re not.” Eddie nods, the fringes of his idea fitting together in his head. “It’s a big bed. We can both fit; I have a king. You’re too tall for the couch, Buck. It’s fine, I’m inviting you.”

Eddie’s tired enough that he’s starting to feel a little drunk with it, but he’s not so far gone that he misses the way he can see Buck struggling with his options.

He sleeps over all the time, but Eddie’s never suggested sharing the bed before. He’s thought about it, in the mornings when he can see Buck trying to work the knots out of his shoulders without Eddie noticing, but he’s always stopped himself before he says anything.

“OK,” Buck nods, but he still doesn’t seem sure. “But only until I convince you to buy a new couch, dude.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, is suddenly too close to sleep to formulate a response. He steps past Buck, back into the bathroom, ignoring the way their bodies brush against each other as he jams his toothbrush haphazardly around his mouth. As soon as he feels like he’s at least brushed most of his teeth, he’s spitting into the sink and stumbling across the room to pull the blankets back and collapse into bed.

His face is buried in his pillow, but there’s just enough light seeping in at the edges of his vision that he’s still awake. So he waves one arm absently behind him, hoping Buck gets the message.

“Turn th’ light ‘ff, come lay d’wn.” The pillow muffles his voice, even as it carries back to his own ears, but Buck seems to know exactly what he’s asking, because a few seconds later, the room goes black and the mattress dips beside him as Buck settles in.

“You’re sure about this?”

They’re not touching, but Buck is close enough that Eddie can feel his breath hot against the side of his face.

“Yes, Buck ‘m sure.” Eddie groans and rolls over. “We don’t have to cuddle or ‘nything. Just shut up and sleep.”

It’s his last conscious thought, until he wakes up the next morning with an arm slung across Buck’s waist. He looks up slowly, only to find that Buck is already staring down at him, and snatches his hand back.

“Buck! I’m-”

“Don’t worry about it. Doesn’t have to be a thing.” Buck rolls over and stands up, and they don’t speak of it again. Buck makes breakfast, like he always does when he stays over, and they get ready to ride back to the station after dropping Chris off at Pepa’s to catch the bus.

But it does become a thing. Buck doesn’t stay over any more often than he did before, but there’s a whole new routine now.

It turns out that it’s actually really convenient to have someone else in the shower to give Eddie a hand with that strip of skin on his upper back that he can’t quite reach. And there’s nobody in their right mind would sleep on the couch when Eddie’s mattress is on offer right now the hallway.

There’s no deeper meaning to it, other than the convenience of having someone right there beside him. After the long shifts, they’ll lay awake together, reassuring each other that they’d done everything they could. They always start out fully clothed, leaving a careful distance between them, but after a few weeks that changes too.

Now, more nights than not, he and Buck will wake up curled together and find that one or both of them had pulled their shirts off overnight.

It doesn’t have to mean anything though, and every time Eddie tries to decide if it does, he remembers that he’s setting an example for Christopher, showing him that two men can be affectionate and open with each other.

That’s it. That’s all it means.

Which is why he doesn’t think anything of it when he throws Buck’s shirt in his duffel bag before work one morning. Buck had stayed over the night before, but left before Eddie was awake so he could make it across the freeway for an early dentist appointment before work. He’d brought a change of clothes, but Eddie isn’t surprised that he was rushing to get out the door and left his shirt behind.

He isn’t sure why it’s so important that Buck never leaves clothes behind, but that seems to be the line they’ve silently drawn in the sand.

So he takes the shirt to the station, but Buck is already out of the locker room when he walks in. He changes into his uniform, then carries the garment out to the common area, trying not to let himself think about how soft and worn in it feels before he tosses it at the back of Buck’s head.

“Hey, you left this in bed last night. Figured you’d want it back.”

Buck reaches up and pulls the shirt off of his head, turning it over in his hands before folding it neatly and setting it on his knee.

“Thanks, Eds.” He doesn’t say anything else, or react otherwise, but when Eddie looks around, Hen and Chimney are staring between them, mouths agape in twin ‘o’s.

“I’m sorry, what?” It’s Chim who breaks the silence, leaning forward like there’s some remarkable story about to be told.

“What?” Buck blinks at him. “Eddie’s bed is way comfier than his couch, so I sleep there now. I suppose you’re going to say it’s weird that we shower together sometimes too? We’re best friends, we don’t need boundaries.”

He sounds dead serious, and Eddie finds himself relieved to know that Buck isn’t any more hung up on how to describe their routine than he is; they’re friends who share a bed and a shower, who cares?

“It’s not weird,” Hen sets her hand on Buck’s knee, right over the shirt. “It’s just not friends, Buckaroo.”

Buck says something in response, but Eddie isn’t sure what it is, can't make out the words over the sound of the realization ringing in his ears.

It’s not friends.

He’s still reeling from it that night, lying in bed with Buck, whose made himself comfortable tucked into Eddie’s side. Eddie’s arm is around his shoulders, fingers toying lightly with the groove where his bicep and chest are pressed together. He can’t stop thinking about what Hen said earlier, about the freight train that drove straight into his heart.

It’s not friends.

Maybe … just maybe, if it could feel like this, if it could feel more than this, better than this, Eddie thinks he might want to be more than not-friends with Buck.

But sleep is pulling him under, so he decides that’s a thought that can wait until they wake up next to each other in the morning.

#eddie diaz week #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley #bed sharing #shower sharing #911 #911 fox #911 fanfic #9-1-1 fox #9-1-1 fanfic #9-1-1 #buddie fanfic #katie writes #kw20 #originalcontentfirstdegreefangirl

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hongism · 3 years

Note

getting my last two wisdom teeth pulled out was indeed hell i CRIED i humiliated myself in front of my dentist i left that place feeling like shit ajdjshjdha but at least i got them out….. but it was traumatizing. thank you for being proud of me caly :-( it really means a lot!!! actually, it’s insane and kinda weird (not in a bad way ofc) how much virtual connections mean to us humans, don’t you think? in my last ask you said how you’re not my top priority and right, i don’t even know what my top priority is tbh but i see you as a friend and i want to chat with you like we’re having a conversation because you >are< important to me!!! but when you stop and think about it it’s weird bc i am just someone and you don’t even know my name but i still see you as a friend. does this make any sense? probably not. but i hope you get what i said. i love making friends and the internet makes it even easier. i hate tumblr’s ask system but it’s kinda nice at the same time, it’s like i’m writing you a letter and then waiting for you to write back like we’re in the 19th century. hello m’lady *tips fedora* no but actually i’d love to be your friend in real life. you are so cool caly. i think we’d talk all day. but well i’m glad i got to know you even if it’s just here!! <3

now!!! 3 summer courses??? omg. i think the concept of summer courses is really cool i don’t think we have this in brazil? i don’t know shit about my own country. they aren’t free, are they? i don’t even hope for free stuff anymore especially when it comes to college but it doesn’t hurt to ask 😐 they steal all our money and then we just d*e but ANYWAYS you are amazing caly!! 3 summer courses isn’t for everyone and you are absolutely crushing it. take all the time you need okay!!! good luck again and remember to take care of yourself dear, drink lots of water, try to sleep well and a reasonable amount of time if you can, deep breaths, you can do it bub!!! - 🧸

omg they didn't knock you out!???! they put me to sleep for when i got all mine removed oml T_T i can't imagine having to be awake for that process i do not envy you even a little bit ;-; but i agree whole-heartedly!!! so many of my friendships are virtual and they mean the world and more to me it's so precious and amazing and fascinating how human interactions work i really adore it <3 i aim to never be anyone's top priority as i don't feel deserving of such an honor but !! im touched and honored that you see me as a friend and that i'm important to you <3 i feel the same way about you too heh <3 the ask system on tumblr is so flaky and hardly reliable but i do so adore how it connects people and allows them to chat however they feel comfortable. you are so super duper cool heh i appreciate u v vmuch :3

and yes summer courses !!! they certainly aren't free nothing is ever free im in pain it costs so much but welp i gotta do it to graduate on time ;-; just finished one course thankfully so now i just gotta push thru this second one then it'll just be one more for the rest of the summer!!!

#🧸 anon

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agentmarymargaretskitz · 5 years

Note

VanDad Savage. You get my drift.

This calls for Angst! (Don’t be afraid to click on the link and review, fam)

Please Don’t Come Back

From afar, Gary watched Nora dance with her father. Damien Darhk’s return as an Encore had been quite the ordeal for everyone. He had been vicious in Star City and when he was working with the Legion of Doom and Mallus. The man had even tried to kill him with a train. Now, here he was, dancing with his daughter after she’d married the love of her life. He didn’t even try to kill anyone during the ceremony.

Even with the not-Red Wedding, Damien’s return was still putting Gary on edge. It wasn’t just because the sorcerer had tied him up and left him to get run over by a train. It was that if Damien Darhk could return as an Encore, who else would come crawling out of hell? He knew about Rasputin and Kathy Myers and Marie Antoinette and the others, but Damien made it real for him. Because if the person he feared did come back, then the Legends would more than likely find out his dirty little secret and hate him more than they ever had.

Gary swallowed, gripping his glass tightly. He tried to focus on the music instead of his memories.

“So you’ve raised the bird all on your own, Gareth. Seems like you’ve done a fine job.”

Gary beamed at his father’s approval as he gently took the canary from the cage. At the ripe old age of nine, he knew to take his father’s praise whenever he got it. Those moments where Father showed pride in him were to be treasured.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, stroking Sally’s feathers. The canary looked towards him with a chirp.

His father ran a finger down the feathers. “Canaries were once birds valued by royalty. Courts bred them in Europe once. Centuries passed, and they became used by common folk.”

“They were used by coal miners,” Gary supplied. “A canary could detect bad stuff in the air. If it died, then the miners would know they had to get out. Also, they came from the Canary Islands.”

“You’ve been doing your research, Gareth,” Father patted his head. “You have an eye and a memory for important information, my son. That is important, but not all lessons come from books.”

Gary held Sally a little closer. He had a bad feeling about this.

“Some things will outlive their usefulness,” Father continued. “That bird, for example, has done so. I wanted to see how committed you were to figure out how to take care of something on your own without instruction. You’ve achieved the first part of that with raising the canary. Now the bird has no more use.”

Gary swallowed as his father guided his smaller hand toward Sally’s neck.

“Break its neck.”

“But it’ll kill Sally!”

“I know. You have to be able to take care of things on your own. Now do it.”

“No!”

“Now, Gareth!” Vandal Savage ordered.

The glass suddenly shattered in his hand. Gary felt his hand sting as the stem and pieces fell to the floor. He had gotten so lost in the memory that he didn’t even realize he had been squeezing the glass tighter and tighter.

“Gary?” Behrad was now looking in his direction with John and Charlie. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Uh, yep,” he nodded quickly. “Just…wasn’t paying attention. I’ll get rid of this.”

He bent down and quickly picked up the pieces of the broken glass. As he did it, he could feel the trio’s eyes on him and reddened. Once the last shard was picked up, Gary bolted towards the kitchen. He tossed the glass in the trash can before running to the bathroom and shutting the door a little too loud. Cringing, he sank to the floor by the sink with quick, shallow breaths as the tears started up.

It had been months since the last time he’d thought about his father. The first fifteen years of his life were spent trying to live up the standards Vandal Savage had put in place. He had wanted a son that was strong and powerful to serve as his right hand. But Gary had been nothing but a failure to him. That was something that had been made clear to him on multiple occasions, including the last time he had seen his father.

Gary had done all he could to move away from his childhood as possible. After he’d run away, he had moved in with an uncle and gotten some therapy. He kept that up for as long as he could afford it, then proceeded to just block out the bad memories and forget all the lessons his father had taught him. All the sparring and beatings and torturing and every other evil thing he’d been forced to do or was subjected to. He had never been able to live up to the standards that his father had set before him, which made him desperate for praise in everything now.

The very thought of Vandal Savage rising from hell like Damien Darhk and coming into his life was starting to send him into a downward spiral. It wasn’t the first time that Gary had gone into one over his father returning, but that was before Neron and Heyworld. While the spirals once lasted a day, the one he’d gone through after Neron had been defeated and they’d all been able to breathe again had lasted for a week. Now, his father returning wasn’t an unrealistic nightmare. It scared him to death, even though he knew Vandal Savage would never try and seek out such a disappointing son.

Pounding came on the bathroom door. “Gary, are you in there?”

His eyes traveled towards the door. There was a smear of blood on the wood where he’d shut the door moments ago. Lifting his hand, Gary saw his palm was bleeding. He hated blood and just looking at it was sending him further into the spiral.

A hunting knife was pressed into his gloved hand. “You can do this, Gareth.”

Gary couldn’t look at his father as he wrapped his hand around the handle and turned around. A sharp breath escaped him as he looked at the wounded buck. They’d gone out together on a hunting trip. Father had referred to it as a rite of passage for him. He had taken care of wounding the animal, but it was Gary’s job to strike the killing blow. This was another moment to prove himself to his father.

As Gary stepped forward through the crunching leaves, he felt another set of eyes on him. On a hill in the distance, he caught something moving by a tree. He stopped focusing on the wounded buck and focused there instead. A man in a long brown coat was just barely visible. His arm appeared outstretched, like he was holding something towards them.

Had his father not taught him about the enemies he’d had over his lifetime, Gary would have thought he was just another hunter. But Father had spoken enough about Gareeb enough for him to be recognizable. Rip Hunter, the man who had been trying to kill his father for years, had arrived.

Gary looked away from him. Whatever he was here to do, he could do it.

“Remember what I taught you,” his father said behind him, reminding Gary of his presence.

But the eleven-year-old shook his head. “I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to kill him.”

“You’re letting the animal suffer more the longer you delay. Now put it out of its misery.”

“No.”

“What did you say?”

“I said no!” Gary cried, throwing the knife to the side. “I won’t kill him.”

“Stop being weak!” his father shouted, striking him across the face.

Gary sprawled onto the forest floor by the deer from the force of the blow. His cheek burned as his father went and retrieved the knife. For a moment, Gary feared he would be on the other end of it and raised his arm. Instead, he used it to slash the buck’s throat. Blood spattered against his coat and he whimpered.

“Get up,” his father spat. “We’re going to do this again and again until you kill it yourself.”

He shuddered and climbed to his feet. When he looked back to the hill, Gary saw Rip Hunter walking away and out of sight.

“Gary, I’m opening the door!”

Gary tried to protest, but his voice failed him. The door burst open and John entered. The warlock’s confused expression morphed into concern when he got a better look at his apprentice. Behrad was in the doorway, his eyes on the bloody hand. Gary ducked his head. He’d always hoped someone would come after him whenever he went somewhere to cry. Now that it had happened, it was just too awkward and embarrassing.

John sighed. “Gary-”

“Just leave me, okay? It’s fine, I cut myself on the glass.”

John turned to Behrad. “Just head on back. I’ve got him.”

Behrad looked reluctant until John nodded at him, and then he left. Once he was gone, John shut the door and looked at him. “What happened?”

Gary felt his voice wobble when he answered. “Nothing.”

“Gary-”

“’m being stupid, okay? Just leave me alone.”

“Not like this,” John shook his head. “Let me take a look at that hand.”

Gary pulled himself to his feet and showed John the cut on the palm. John moved towards the sink and turned on the tap. He took Gary’s hand and inspected it closely for a moment. Then he wet a towel and started to clean off the blood.

“That’s one of the good towels,” Gary hiccupped.

“Eh,” John shrugged. “We’ll chuck it in the wash. I don’t see any glass, so that’s good news.”

“Yeah, pretty clumsy of me. Typical Gary being stupid. You think I’d know better, right?”

“Well, you did look pretty upset before it happened. I know people cry at weddings, but I don’t think you were crying about marriage.”

“I wasn’t.”

“So what then?” John asked.

“Encores,” Gary admitted as John started digging in the cabinet. “Especially with Damien Darhk coming back.”

“As soon as Charlie and I find the Loom of Fate, we will get that all sorted,” John promised as he ripped open a package of gauze pads. “Can’t believe you got all this thinking you’d need it for me.”

The joking tone didn’t make Gary smile. “Nora’s dad came back. I had forgotten about him. It started making me think that mine would too.”

“Thought your old man was a dentist?”

“It’s actually my uncle,” Gary confessed. “I ran away when I was fifteen and ended up living with him.”

“Didn’t know that.”

“I’ve never told anyone before. I never thought my past could try and catch up to me. My mom died when I was a kid, and then it was me and my dad for years.”

“Huh,” John finished wiping the blood away. “So your real dad is as bad as Damien Darhk? You know these are the worst of the worst that are coming back from hell.”

“I know, John!” Gary snapped harsher than he intended. “He is as bad, maybe even worse, than Damien Darhk! My father was a tyrant and a murderer! And he tried to make me just like him!”

The other man was silent, just taking it all in as he started to wrap Gary’s hand. Gary squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m sorry. I just spent years…trying to forget him and everything he taught me. He had a plan for me, and I never lived up to his expectations. I was useless and a failure. He always made sure I knew that.”

“He was dead wrong about that.”

Gary snorted. “He’s right. Even if I’m not what he wanted me to be, I’m still a failure. And I was a monster.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You couldn’t have already forgotten Neron.”

“No,” John shook his head. “That doesn’t count, because everyone was guilty there. We all made mistakes. But listen to me, Gary, you are not a monster. You are too good to be anything like your father sounds like he was.”

“I know why you’re here, Gareeb.”

Rip Hunter looked up abruptly as he moved away from the door he’d just closed.

“My father told me all about you. If you’re here to kill him, I don’t know where he is. I ran away when I was fifteen and I haven’t looked back since. And if you’ve come to kill me as revenge against him, just do it. He’s not going to care though.”

“I very much am not here to kill you, Agent Green,” Hunter took a seat at the conference table. “Regarding your father, I helped kill the man myself. Permanently.”

“Oh,” Gary sank into the chair. He didn’t know how he felt about that. “So why are you here?”

“I’m starting an organization within the government. Its purpose is to protect the timeline and keep it on track. The opposite of what your father and my former employers were doing.”

“I only heard Father talk about time travel in passing- are you telling me it’s real?”

“I am, and I think you’d be an excellent fit for this agency instead of here at the FBI. You’re orderly. Efficient. Incredibly brilliant yet overlooked. But you also have a good heart and stayed good despite everything Vandal Savage tried to make you. That’s important. You are a good man, Gary Green.”

Gary smiled a little.

“So how would you feel about coming to work for the Time Bureau?”

“You are good, Gary,” John told him.

He exhaled slowly. Hearing someone else call him good made the spiral he’d been on start to slow.

“Thank you,” he whispered, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry. I just…him coming back scares me to death.”

“I can tell,” John finished wrapping his hand. “But if your dad is as bad as you’re telling me, then Astra would have to do a lot of bargaining to get his soul and release him. Darhk definitely had to take some bargaining. She already has enough heavy hitters on the surface. I think we don’t have to worry about your old man.”

“I hope so,” Gary nodded, taking his hand back. “Hey, if Behrad or the other Legends ask, can you maybe not mention it?”

“I won’t. But Gary, who is your dad?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but the two words stuck in his throat. It was impossible to get them out. Because if John knew who he was, then he would look at him differently forever. The Legends would be even worse, especially whoever remained of Rip’s original team.

“It’s fine, G-man,” John patted his shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me now. Just let me know at some point, okay?”

“I will,” Gary promised. John had told him plenty of his secrets. He had to clean about a few of his. “Do you mind if I take a few days off? Just to clear my head?”

“Take all the time you need. Now let’s go rejoin that party and hope Behard lied his ass off.”

John gave him a one-armed hug before leading him out. No one had missed them when they returned.

For once, Gary didn’t mind being invisible.

~~~

Two days later, Gary was in the States standing in front of his uncle’s house. He still remembered coming here when he was a teenager after running away from home, showing up on the doorstep shivering in the middle of a blizzard. Jeff hadn’t even asked what had happened. He had just taken his nephew in and made sure he got through high school. Even when he’d moved out, Jeff had given him the key and told him that it was his home whenever he needed one.

As Gary entered the house, he noticed wet footprints on the hardwood floor after the doormat. Jeff had left for a camping trip yesterday and would be gone the rest of the week. Besides, it hadn’t rained here yesterday. The downpour had only started thirty minutes ago. Someone had made it to the house before him.

Shutting off the hall light, Gary summoned a fireball and began making his way into the living room. It was enough to light his way and could be used offensively if necessary. Whoever had come in was good enough to have picked the lock to get inside. He wanted to hope that they were long gone, but there were no exit prints. For now, he had to assume the worst.

Feet were visible in the light of his fire before a lamp clicked on. When Gary saw who sat in the chair, the flames extinguished as he stared at the sight before him.

Vandal Savage gave him a smile. “Hello, Gareth.”

#somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds #ask box #legends of tomorrow #fanfiction #gary green #vandal savage #john constantine #rip hunter #constangreen

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oforamuse · 5 years

Text

told you that i missed you

'you and mickey are getting married!?'

or, the one where fiona had to find about ian's engagement through lip.

a missing phone call set somewhere between 10x11 and 10x12

ao3

Ian’s mid-limp towards the fridge when his phone rings in his pocket, and without bothering to check the caller ID, Mickey said he’d call him later when he’d left earlier, he answers and brings the device up to his ear.

‘You and Mickey are getting married!? ’

Ah fuck.

He should’ve expected this.

‘Hey Fiona…’ Ian trails off, knowing where this conversation is most likely headed. He makes a mental checklist to prepare himself for the showdown that’s about to take place with his older sister, she’s never taken to being left out of things very lightly - which in her defense, didn’t happen very often given her being the head of the household for all of his life.

‘Don’t hey Fiona me, Ian Gallagher’ She practically spits out, dragging the emphasis on their second name with a clear underlying message of are you fucking kidding me, ‘Were you planning on telling me this anytime soon or was I supposed to find out you two were husbands at Thanksgiving or some shit?’

He pictures her fondly, hand on hip and the other one waving about, failing wildly to get her frustrated point across. It’s an image he saw so often throughout his childhood it’s almost comforting, warming.

‘You planning on being home for Thanksgiving?’ Ian chimes back, hoping to buy himself some time to gather his thoughts, though he immediately knows she won’t take the bait as soon it falls out of his mouth.

‘Don’t change the subject, Ian’ It’s the same tone of voice she used throughout their childhood, the go brush your teeth it’s gone midnight or carl put that hammer down right now before you hurt someone, and for a moment he feels 12 years old and scolded.

The words hang there and he can feel her glare down the phone, like a laser beam marking his pale skin, it’s always felt that way. The classic 100% Fiona Gallagher certified ‘I’m unimpressed’ look, a look he’s definitely been on the receiving end of far too many times to count growing up.

‘I was- listen, it’s been a little crazy here recently, I was going to tell you. It just...slipped my mind I guess’ Ian defends himself quickly, juggling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he attempts to clear the kitchen table from this morning’s wedding planning session with Mick and Sandy. They left after a long conversation about the perfect table cloths, table cloths, to go to the tux shop downtown. He didn’t know there were so many different kinds of things to be thrown, music to be played, or chairs to choose from. It’s been overwhelming to say the least, and deep down still pretty scary, there’s a small nagging part of him worried that this might be a mistake but it’s rightfully overruled by the much bigger and louder part of him saying it will be worth it. Seeing Mickey happy, being happy himself, knowing they can finally just be happy together, will be worth it. Worth any amount of meetings over chairs, or flowers or whatever, he doesn’t really understand it, but he’ll do it.

It isn’t the marriage part, really, that freaks him out - he doesn’t think so at least. He knows he wants to marry Mickey, he knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. That’s never been the question, even when they were countries apart or failing to see other people, it was always there in the back of his mind for his future, the ideal. He’s nervous to take that final big leap, to solidify their relationship in front of the world and the law, like actual adults do. He’s seen so many marriages go wrong and it aches to think that they could end up like a statistic, after everything they’ve been through, they could end up just being part of a percentage of divorcees.

But, also, after everything they’ve been through, they may just be strong enough to beat the odds. He doesn’t really know the statistics for gay marriages anyway, specifically for guys, he assumes they must be slightly better, happier or some shit.

If they can make it through homophobic murderous dads, prison sentences and annoying twinks, they can make it through this.

His mind falls back to Fiona on the other end, her constant stream of failed relationships, marriages and almost marriages that littered his adolescent years. A lump forms heavily in his throat and he tries to swallow it back down, he never thought he’d be the first Gallagher kid to get properly hitched, and hitched successfully, because Fiona and Gus do not count.

‘Really Fiona, it’s been crazy here’ He tries again,

He’s not making some dumb excuse, with the last month of being broken up (but so not broken up) then going to engaged to wedding planning all within a few days, calling his older sister wasn’t top of his list.

Perhaps it should’ve been, he thinks, and Ian can’t help it but his stomach rocks with a wave of guilt, crashing onto his mental beach. It sits there, sickeningly. Fiona used to know everything, be part of everything that was happening with the family, now she’s hundreds of miles away and worlds apart.

He knows it was a big deal for Fiona to move away from Chicago, away from them and everything she’s ever known, but that was her choice, he reasons, her choice to be a phone call away rather than just a bedroom. He doesn’t blame her though.

‘So I had to find out from Lip? And only, might I add, because he mentioned how you and Mickey were looking at flowers downtown so obviously I asked him why on earth you would need ‘em and turns out you guys are getting fucking hitched!’

He dumps their coffee mugs in the sink and watches the brown liquid swirl away before he resigns and moves his phone up to his ear.

‘I know I should’ve told you.’ He whispers, turning to lean against the counter top, wishing he didn’t feel so weird about talking about marriage with his older sister, ‘I just, I-I didn’t know how. It’s a really fucking long story, Fiona, and you’re not here…’

The guilt comes rushing back, like a wave crashing onto Ian’s shore. He grips the phone tightly.

Fiona sighs down the phone, and she goes silent, he pictures her running her hands through her hair like she often does when she’s exasperated or worried. His chest warms at the thought, he misses her, he really does.

There’s another beat.

‘I guess I should say congratulations?’ She says breaking the silence, almost posing it as a question. He can hear the hint of humour in her voice, playing it off as both a joke and a genuinely sincere statement.

‘Thanks’ Ian laughs lightly, quietly feeling relieved that she isn’t more upset.

The wave of guilt pulls back into the ocean.

His eyes flicker over to the fridge door opposite, where there’s still an old post-it note of Fiona’s reading ‘Liam. Dentist 12:20’ stuck above the handle. Her presence is everywhere in the house, it’s in the foundations, the walls and the floorboards. It’s her house more so than anyone else’s, a hell of a lot more than it ever was Frank’s, or Monica’s for that matter. Still, it stings to know that she isn’t here, physically.

That she wasn’t here when he got out.

‘How did it happen?’ She asks, her habit for gossip overriding her need to hang onto the sentimentalities.

‘How did what happen?’

‘You know, the engagement, who asked who and all that crap. Not sure how it works when it’s just two guys.’ She snorts, and Ian rolls his eyes fondly, taking comfort in knowing it was meant harmlessly.

‘Pretty much the same way as everything goes with Mick, fighting and making up. Except this time with added engagement’ The bad joke hangs for a moment before he hears Fiona bark out a laugh down the other end, he breathes out, relieved.

He knows his and Mickey’s relationship can be volatile, especially physically. They’re tough, their hearts are tough. How can they not be when they’ve grown up in this shithole, surrounded by violence and poverty all their lives, only to top it off with a light dusting of homophobic and or, alcoholic, parents. They’re a product of their environment, that’s for sure, and it works for them.

‘Not that I’m surprised or nothing, but you guys really got into a fight and then engaged? Sounds like you two’

He winces knowing that Fiona hasn’t always had the best opinion of Mickey or their relationship, but he can’t really blame her given that he kept her out of the most of it in the past. It’s always been easier keeping her, and Lip to be frank, at arm’s length when it comes to Mickey, especially in the last few years. Especially after almost dropping everything and running off with him to Mexico. He was close, he was so close.

He’s quietly hoping the distance between his two worlds will finally change once they officially become family.

‘Nah, I beat down Mick’s date and then, I asked him to marry me.’ He smirks at the memory, sure it was childish to have gone after Byron the way he did but the guy had been pissing Ian the fuck off and he was so fucking bored of playing games with Mick. Plus, no one gets to talk shit about his guy.

‘Mickey’s date?’ She asks, her voice distorted with confusion and rightfully so. She’s missed a lot in the last few weeks, heck, Ian’s been having trouble keeping up with it all and he’s here. He can’t even remember the last time he spoke to Fiona longer than a few minutes except down the tinny prison phone - they must’ve talked when he got out of prison, right?

It dawns on him quickly that he doesn’t think they’ve had a proper conversation since he got out of prison, weeks ago. It sits in his stomach, distastefully. That’s the longest they’ve gone without proper communication since he ran away when he was 16.

‘It’s a long story Fiona’ He sighs, throwing a glance over to the stairs, wishing she’d walk down them this moment, ruffle his hair like she used to then crack open a beer with him.

‘When’s the ceremony?’

‘We’re thinking the next few weeks maybe, Mickey’s really getting into the wedding planning.’

‘Mickey Milkovich is enjoying planning a wedding? That I would like to see!’ She laughs, ‘but jeeze, a few weeks? That’s pretty soon, why rush?’

‘Terry Milkovich paid us a visit cause he’s mad as shit. Shoutin’ the street down and pulling out his gun. It upset Mick so he’s taken to use the wedding as a chance to torture him, I guess he’s hoping he drops dead from his gay son being happy or some shit.’ Ian explains, his hands gesturing in ways that Fiona can’t obviously see. God, Ian should’ve killed the bastard back when they were kids because they deserve a break. Realistically, he knows he couldn’t do it, but fuck, he wishes Terry had gotten stabbed or something in prison the first few times round, it would’ve saved everyone a lot of grief. Himself included.

‘No chance i’ll be able to make it then, I guess…’ Fiona says sadly, though Ian can tell there’s a small attempt to hide the tinge in her voice. She sniffles and the guilt threatens to crash back.

‘I guess not’

Ian thumbs at his engagement ring whilst the two of them hang onto the silence, unsure of where to move forward from here.

‘You happy?’

‘Yeah, yeah I am’ Ian affirms, and he is, he’s really fucking happy. He didn’t think he’d ever get to have this, especially not with Mickey.

‘You gonna be Mr Milkovich?’

‘Fuck off’

‘You guys talked about it?’ She asks, and he can tell this one is a genuine question, whether or not Ian is going to shed the Gallagher name once and for all.

‘Nah, I figured we’ll get round to it after the gold chiavari chairs or something’

‘The gold what?’

‘Don’t ask’ he begs, he’s heard enough about chairs and all that for a lifetime.

‘I’m happy for you’ She says after a few moments, and his heart warms. He imagines her throwing her arms around his shoulders and bringing him in for a tight hug, locked and safe.

‘I wish you could come.’ He whispers, his eyes stinging, his thumb rubbing at his band. He does, he really wishes his big sister could be there to see him and Mickey beat all the odds.

‘I know’ Her voice cracks ever so slightly and Ian aches at the thought of being the one who caused it, ‘I’m sorry I’m not gonna be there’.

‘Not your fault’ Ian sighs, and it isn’t. She needed to get out.

‘Yeah’ She sniffs and Ian has to bring his free hand up to wipe his damp eyes, ‘I want pictures’

‘I’ll have Debs send you some’ Ian says wetly, he’s pretty certain Mickey has even organised a photographer. There’s some rustling on the other end and he can hear someone call out Fiona’s name in the background, it’s muffled but distinct.

‘Ah shit, I’ve got to go.’ She groans, and Ian figures it’s probably for the best. Someone’s bound to be home soon and he knows there will be a lot of questions if he’s found all teary eyed in the kitchen.

‘Okay’ It’s all he can manage.

‘I love you, and I’m happy for you.’ She says, ‘Tell Mickey I’m happy for him too’

‘I will.’ He replies, ‘I love you’

There’s a shuffle, then the line clicks and goes dead.

He hangs against the counter, cradling the phone in both hands, cradling the connection with his sister. He realises she didn’t even ask him anything about prison, or the fact Mickey’s out too. He wonders how much his other siblings talk to her, does Lip keep up with her regularly? It’s hard to imagine with him having to balance everything with Fred.

His phone chimes, he glances down.

3:39pm: MICKEY

‘picked out the tuxes. gonna look so fuckin good.’

God, if fifteen year old Ian Gallagher could see him now. He shoots off a reply.

3:40pm:

‘can’t wait’

And he can’t.

#gallavich fic #gallavich #ian gallagher #fiona gallagher #shameless #shameless us #shameless fic

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lizzytheauthor · 4 years

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Why not, right? Might as well just post it chapter by chapter. I might need to figure out how to like...archive all of them in one post or...maybe I could just do a page or something on the blog? Idk. I’ll figure it out later. Here’s the first chapter

Chapter 1

Yellow. Blinded by yellow. I feel wind? When did I get outside? I feel...peaceful.

I blink my eyes, and suddenly I’m laying in my bed. I look at the clock, 8am. On the dot. I look over and see a still vacant bed. I don’t remember going to sleep last night, but I...I don’t think I saw this Pete person. Maybe he’s not in yet, maybe he’s arriving later. I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to be doing. My “treatment” is at 9. Which is in an hour. I can only assume that the treatment in question is some kind of hypnosis. I don’t believe it personally. People going under and acting strangely? Nonsense. They insist that after three or four treatments I’ll be cured? Impossible.

I can’t have been sitting there for more than 5 minutes, thinking about what to do with my time. But a quick glance at my clock read 8:50am. I swear it hasn’t been 50 minutes, yet the clock betrays me. Maybe I’m just zoning out. I’ll have to mention it to the doc-

Knock. Knock.

8:59. Hm.

I go over to the door, and open it to see one of the large men from the front. He just grunts, and I assume that means I follow him. His pace seems a lot slower, probably due to his hulking mass. It allows me to look at everything around me with more detail. The doors predictably all look the same, the halls are a bland beige with a dark blue line at about doorknob height. Occasionally there’s a potted plant at a corner, or alcove. It all reeks of hospital. I don’t like it, nor do I trust it. I especially don’t trust the time. I’ve heard of time blindness, but...surely it’s not this bad?

We round a corner, and start climbing some stairs. Strangely, it does feel like I know where I’m going? Maybe it’s just cause I’m following a large man who clearly does know. These steps feel a little more daunting. I get a sense of apprehension about just climbing them. Like...Well. It sounds silly. I feel like the stairs go on forever? It doesn’t, I mean, I can see the top. It’s right there. But it feels like it.

This thought made me turn around. I felt like I had climbed at least a dozen or so steps, and sure enough the landing is simply 6 or 7 steps down. I don’t know how to parse this information. I think it’s better to ignore it for now.

The hulking man never said a word, didn’t notice anything strange I guess. We did reach the top, after an agonizing amount of time, impossible for me to trust my own sense of time. The top of the stairs was dark. As we reached it, the light came on overhead. All I could see is an endless expanse of darkened halls. I suppose they’re motion sensors, and I’m the first treatment of the day. Maybe.

A split second, I could’ve sworn I could….hear something. I’m not sure what. Maybe it’s just the hum of the lights as they slowly gain heat from being on?

We pass door, after door, after door. It seems endless, monotonous, boring. Finally, after probably the longest walk down like 3 halls and some stairs, of my life. The large man stops, and gestures to a door.

I open it, and walk through, cause I can’t exactly tell that kind of man no, ya know? Inside the door, is a small room, there’s a single chair, under a light fixture, it’s somewhat reminiscent of a dentists office. But with less actual equipment. The door is closed behind me, and I decide to sit in the chair, cause I’m sure as hell not gonna stand. And I wait.

I wait. I wait. I wait. There’s no clock in here, so I don’t know how much time passes. If you pressed a gun to my head and asked me to tell you how much, I’d say 3 hours. Finally, the doorknob turned, and in came a doctor. A woman, early thirties probably. Long black hair, pulled into a ponytail. She’s wearing a white lab coat, and has small rectangular glasses, which she adjusted as she entered.

“Hello, uh” she looks at her clipboard, which I didn’t notice her holding previously. “Ralph. That’s a nice name.” she gives a smile, this one feels genuine. More sincere some how.

“Yea...uh...Hi?” I let out, I try not to stammer my words, I don’t even know why it’s hard for me to talk.

Her smile maintains, almost alleviating my previous concerns. Almost.

“My name is Cera. Cera O’Hara.” she extends her arm, to give me a handshake.

I think that’s what’s throwing me off, she’s the first person that seems..well...like a person. A genuine, sincere one. I take her hand, and shake it.

“Uh, can I. Hm.” I pause, maybe this is a weird question. “What time is it?”

“Oh!” she pulls out a pocket watch, it seems basic at a glance. As I stare at it, I notice there is an almost beautiful intricate etching in it. “It’s 9:15. Right, sorry about the lateness, I overslept on accident.” She puts away the pocket watch. “So, this first session isn’t going to be all that exciting. I just need to perform a basic analysis of your mental state, so I know how to properly proceed with treatment.” she lets out a light chuckle, “Not that I don’t trust the state’s doctors, but ‘C-PTSD’ is hardly a comprehensive diagnosis. It doesn’t even state causative traumas, attempted treatments, possible co-morbid diagnoses, et cetera.”

I nod my head as though I understand, but this is all way over my head. Honestly, it’s a little boring, and I almost feel as though I could fall asleep to her voice.

“So, let’s begin!” she says, with a clap.

Then, suddenly. I’m in my room. I...How did I get here? I don’t...quite remember…

A look at the clock above my door, it says it’s only 10:30...the sun is out, so it’s still morning. I remember in those ghost stories, that digital stuff is always unreliable, and old stuff works better. I focus my hearing, and I feel like with the silence of the building I can hear the motor in the clock, along with the Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Not digital. I breathe a sigh, but I don’t know if it’s from relief or...hm. Wait. No, there’s no apprehension. If I see Cera I’ll have to thank her...I’m sure this is probably her doing. It’s been...a while since I felt no tension in my shoulders.

I look at the calendar, and see there’s nothing on the schedule. Or rather, it’s more accurate to say that the only things on the calendar are treatment times. So I guess I have free access? I feel hungry, so I guess breakfast is as good as anything to start my day with. I hear it’s the most important meal of the day.

I chuckle at my dumb thought.

I begin to leave the room, and bump into him. I would not have expected pete to look like this, but I mean, he’s entering the room, so surely it’s him. He has curly red hair, glasses that seem more like binoculars on his eyes, and he’s so skinny, and short.

“Oh, uh, hi!” I try to let out, as I step aside letting him in.

He doesn’t respond immediately, instead goes to his bed and sits down. It takes a moment of agonizing silence, before he finally looks up, and notices me.

“Hello!!” he waves with this with a surprising cheerfulness, like I suddenly snapped him back into reality. “My name is Pete, are you just arriving?”

I nod, “uh, erm. No, I” I point to my bed, expecting it to be messy as I don’t remember making it. But… “Ah, well..uh, no. I came yesterday, I think.”

He looks mildly confused, but shrugs it off, “So you’ve had your first treatment then?”

“I...I think? I don’t remember. I remember the lady saying we weren’t doing anything today, but then I-”

“-’Woke up’ in your bed?” he finishes for me. “It happens.” he shrugs.

“So, that’s normal then?”

Pete thinks for a moment, “Uh, normal isn’t normal here. You’ll see, I think.” he takes out a drawing pad, and a pencil, and he starts drawing.

Not wanting to disturb my new roommate, I check the clock. 10:35. I could swear that it was longer than 5 minutes, but I suppose my sense of time is just shot. Oh! Breakfast, right. I’m hungry. My legs moved on their own, and I began to walk through the halls, I felt like I was on the second floor still, but a window I passed by betrayed me. I was on the first floor. I don’t recall any stairs. Maybe I was zoning out way harder than I thought. Finally I made it to the cafeteria.

“Hey ralph!” the jovial man handing food out addressed me, “You’re a little early for lunch, unless you want a second breakfast?” He waits for my response.

“Uh, wait, second? I never had a first.”

Brian winks at me, “Oh, I see, well here, how about some pancakes?” he seems to be sharing a one sided inside joke that I do not get.

“Sure, that sounds great!” the enthusiasm that erupts out of me surprises me.

The enthusiasm puts a thought into my mind that maybe this isn’t such nonsense. Brian puts a couple pancakes on my plate, and I walk to the table. I think about all the creepy stuff, but maybe it’s not actually creepy. Maybe it’s strange, yea, but I mean, if this fixes me, then why not? I feel better already, I think. And that was just after one treatment, which I was told wasn’t even anything.

My eyes feel kinda heavy. I should eat a little bit, for energy. I think.

With a blink, I’m transported away. A field of wheat. I notice immediately, that I’m alone, and the wheat seems endless. There’s no house, no building of any kind, no trees, nothing. Just endless wheat. I notice second, that I’m not scared. It actually feels peaceful.

I felt compelled to start walking, feeling the wind on my face, the wheat against my hands. I can almost hear voices carried by the wind, but no. I can’t make anything out. Honestly, it feels nice to just not be fearful. Stressed. I must be dreaming, right? I can’t quite wake up. Or rather, I can’t feel my sleeping body. I guess. It’s not another nightmare, yet, so I’ll just enjoy this. I’m sure it’s not unusual for a 19 year old to pass out in a cafeteria.

I walk endlessly, it feels like forever, and I know I can certainly not trust dream time. I can’t even trust my real time, so there’s no point really. I just walked. A building begins to blur into focus, in the distance. I decide to go towards it, I have nothing else to do. The building doesn’t seem to get any closer. Hours upon hours I walk towards it.

I think for a moment, that this actually IS another nightmare, but that’s not the feeling I feel. I still feel that serene grace. That quiet peace. Just walking. Maybe it’s the wind, maybe it’s the sun on my face. I don’t know. I continue walking. This seems...Fami-

CLAP.

I’m ripped out of my dream. I don’t recognize the room I’m in, but it’s not a bedroom. I try and take in my surroundings, but everything seems fuzzy. Like, like trying to imagine your childhood room, by someone who is describing it through old pictures that are worn. You can almost tell where you are, but not quite.

“Hey, come back to me.” a girls voice. No, woman. Older for sure. Not terribly old.

I try to look at the voice, but it’s so hard to focus. Why can’t I focus?

“Feel your senses returning to you, become aware of your surroundings. It’s not terribly difficult. I do apologize for the abruptness, but this is the first time you’ve been alone.” as she says this, things start coming into focus. Slowly.

The woman in the room with me, has long brown hair. Her face feels gentle, even though it’s still slightly fuzzy.

“My name is Valerie. But please don’t call me that. Call me Val.” her attitude seems different. Normal? Well, not normal for this place. But, like, normal for outside.

I become acutely aware of the room. We’re in a gym or something. There’s weights, and exercise machines. We’re the only two in the room, and it’s much bigger than I thought it was at first.

All I can mutter is, “What?”

“Come on, surely you realize what’s happening?” she waits, and I just stand there. Clearly irritated, she continues, “Hypnosis? I mean really, you’re in a hypnosis institute. Did you think it’d be therapy and gumdrops for your stay?”

She goes to the door, and checks both ways out the halls.

“Hypnosis?” I ask. I still struggle to find my thoughts.

“Ugh, yes.” she hands me a watch, “Don’t let them see this. Try to not lose time.”

I check the watch, it’s digital. 3:39pm. I lost 5 hours.

“No, no no. This has to be wrong. It was only 10 something a second ago.” I protest, but she waves her hand dismissing it.

“Missing time means they’re stealing it.” she glances out again. “Hey, go to reception, and ask for a journal. They hand them out to everyone that asks. Keep track of...well. Keep track of anything that feels important.”

“What?” but it’s no use, she’s out the door and down the hall.

I guess...I guess I’m going to go to reception and get a journal. I step out of the gym, and try to get a feel for where I am. I honestly don’t know. I see some people who look like people who work here, and decide to approach them. After all, I haven’t done anything wrong, there’s no reason for me to fear these people. Right?

“Hey, I think I’m lost.” I start, “I was eating lunch, and then all of a sudden I was in that gym.”

Which isn’t entirely the truth, but also not a lie. Surely they’d understand.

“You’re not lost.” one of them says.

I take a step back, I...what?

“What? No, I...” but then it hits me. I do know where I am. No, wait. I don’t. I swear I don’t. But my feet are already moving. Whatever panic might have started building is swiftly replaced with a calm. I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this.

I just, try and convince my feet I want to go to the receptionist. I pass some people dressed in clothes similar to mine, they don’t acknowledge my existence. I notice they seem happy, it feels genuine. Maybe. I doubt it. I continue walking down the light beige halls, with it’s green line at doorknob height. It seems off, but I can’t quite place my finger on it.

After a handful of minutes, I arrive at the receptionist desk. I see Miranda, typing at her computer. The computer looks like an old 90’s era computer. Not what I expected in this new age institute. At any rate, Miranda notices my presence.

“Oh! Ralph! Hello! Can I help you with anything?” her cheerful attitude is still overwhelming.

“Uh, y-yea. Can I have a journal? I want...I want to write my thoughts down.” I don’t quite know what I’m going to write, but…

“Oh, pesky thoughts. Always getting in the way, I think. Maybe writing them down will rid you of them!” she smiles at me, I don’t fully get her meaning, but that sounded threatening. She reaches under her desk and pulls out an all black notebook. It looks leather? I take it. “Off you go now, it’s almost time for bed!”

I look at the clock on the wall above her. 7:40. I glance to the front doors, to confirm that it is indeed night already. How did I lose…

“Uh, oh. Ok. Yea.” I turn and go back down the hall. I feel Miranda burning a hole in my back with her stare.

After I’m well out of Miranda’s gaze, I take the watch out of my pocket. 4:39pm. I don’t get it. I don’t understand. I look around the halls, and there’s no windows. I look at one of the plaques, and see I’ve already made it to my room. I...this is strange. I don’t understand. I shouldn’t, I mean. Once again I feel the panic start to build, and it swiftly gets crushed. Nothing. Calm? No, that’s not quite it.

I walk in, and see out the window, the sun is out. It’s not right. Nothing is right. I’m not. I don’t think I’m crazy. Am I?

“Hey dude, I’m about to go get some dinner.” Pete was still drawing on his bed. I don’t know if he’s moved at all from that spot, though he is laying down instead of sitting now. He looks at me, “Whoa, hey, you ok? You’re sweating.” he sits up, and grabs a remote to turn the ceiling fan on.

Did we always have one? I don’t remember.

Am I sweating? I must be, my clothes feel damp.

“Uh, I think I’m gonna lay down...Could, you..” I pause. I don’t know what to say. How do you explain this? Maybe he knows. “Do you lose time?”

He looks at me, concerned, “Yea. I do. Hey, let me grab some food for you, just lay down, take it easy.”

He walks off. I decide to write this in my journal. Maybe taking note of things will help me retain my sanity. I hope it does. I keep the watch next to my journal as I write, I really don’t want to ‘lose’ any more time. They don’t deserve it, it’s mine.

After writing how I felt, the time loss, the way this building seems to claim my sanity. I just lay there. I feel exceptionally exhausted, yet somehow still relaxed. Is this intentional? Is this fixing me? To be fair, I haven’t thought about my parents. I feel frustrated. Again, the feeling gets squished by a larger pacificati….that’s it. Pacification. That’s what I’m feeling.

Last time I looked at the watch it said 7:06pm. A little early, but my body needs the rest. Wait, wasn’t Pete going to bring me dinner?

I hope he’s ok. I can’t help but feel myself drift off to sleep at this thought. Yellow. Again, that blinding yellow.

#my writing #horror #gaslighting #time blindness #issues with reality

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madiladi7 · 5 years

Text

Happy Halloween, Mao Mao!

Hello! This is for a Halloween writing exchange run by @maomaosmother ! You should check them out if you’re a fan of the show Mao Mao!

This story was written for @Fireinthered

I also want to tag @shapeshiftinterest on an unrelated note.

Request details: King Snugglemane hosting a haunted house for the sweeties and Mao Mao not believing anything there would be scary but being proved wrong. (The sky pirates should definitely be invited, they don’t even have to be main or relevant characters)

Please enjoy! I hope you like it!

10/24/19

Word count: 2554

The giant, foreboding house looms over the surrounding trees, which pale in comparison despite dwarfing the shack in height. The great trees of the forest outside the town of Pureheart are possibly generations old, yet the structure nestled beside them seems to have surpassed them in age. The wooden body of what once was a dwelling place are rotted and blackened, long abandoned by termites and the like. The old bones of the house creak and moan with every slight breeze that rushes past. The house even sounds like it’s haunted. The window frames don’t even have a trace of glass left in them, not even a shard protruding from the wood. A rotting, ancient looking door, or what’s left of it, stands between the forest and whatever lies in wait inside; it almost looks to be disintegrating, falling apart with every moment that passes. The roof is slanted, filthy and soggy, almost caving into itself with every sagging shingle, several of which are simply missing, gone with time. The sad remnants of a chimney poke out through what remains of the roof, missing most of its stones.

It’s almost hard to imagine that something like this resides so close to Pureheart, a place bustling with life and smiling faces; it’s even harder to imagine how this place is still standing, albeit barely.

And this is where the king has made his haunted house?

“Admit it, dude, this is insanely cool.”

Badgerclops nods in approval, smiling down at Mao Mao, who is clearly not as enthused about all this as he is. Mao Mao seems to be a little more uptight than usual tonight. Maybe because it’s late, or maybe because he’s secretly impressed. Whatever the reason may be, he keeps his eyes forward, glowering at the king’s handiwork.

“-Hah! You think this is scary? Pathetic. Something as cheesy as this could never scare a brave hero, such as myself. King Snugglemane should have spent less time galavanting around and more time putting together something really scary. Isn’t that right, Adorabat?”

...Adorabat doesn’t answer.

“Adorabat…?”

Badgerclops and Mao Mao turn around to find Adorabat trembling with… excitement? Her eyes are like stars as she gapes at the decrepit shack. Mao Mao can tell with just a glance that this isn’t going to be a simple patrol after all.

“This… Looks… SO COOL!”

“I know, right? I literally just said that.”

“Now, hold on, Adorabat-”

“Can we go in?! Can we, can we? I wanna see the zombies and ghosts and chainsaws and blood and dentists and-”

Adorabat’s rapid, excitement filled begging are cut short by Mao Mao, hushing her in an attempt to keep the trio on track that night.

“Adorabat, no. We’re on duty, remember? The king just had to build his haunted house in the middle of the forest, which is home to monsters, like a ridiculous amount of monsters. Stay focused.”

Adorabat frowns, most of her excitement wavering with every word that Mao Mao speaks. She wants to see the haunted house, she just can’t help it. Her little heart is set on enjoying herself tonight.

“Come on, Mao, it’s Halloween, let her have some fun. I can’t think of a better place for a five year old than a disgusting house in the middle of the woods. Look at her, she wants it so bad.”

At this point, Adorabat breaks out her secret weapon, which also happens to be Mao Mao’s greatest weakness: The puppy-eyes. Her giant eyes sparkle with faint tears in the moonlight. Badgerclops and Mao Mao both feel like they’ve been punched in the gut with cuteness. It’s super effective. Mao Mao has lost the will to resist her any more.

Mao Mao pinches the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tight as he prepares to make a decision he knows he’ll regret. After a long, exasperated sigh, he finally caves. The battle has been won.

“...Fine, fine. You can go through the king’s haunted house.”

Adorabat almost explodes with happiness as all of her previously lost excitement returns to her. She takes flight, squealing her thanks to Mao Mao and Badgerclops as her little wings carry her to the entrance. She quickly disappears into the darkness.

Badgerclops’ triumphant smile wavers as he glances at Mao Mao, noticing the worry written all over his face. Mao Mao is pretty good at hiding his worry or fear, but Badgerclops is even better at seeing through his facade. To Badgerclops, Mao Mao is like an open book. Besides, he isn’t as good at looking brave as he thinks he is.

“...I wouldn’t worry about it, man. All the monsters sleep at night anyways.”

“We still have to be vigilant, Badgerclops. We go to sleep at night too, and look at us now, still awake and wandering through the forest at an ungodly hour... I don’t want Adorabat to be scared either. Plus it’s way past her bedtime.”

“That’s what you’re worried about? Mao, she’s tough. Adorabat will probably scare whatever’s in that gross shack. She scares me sometimes.”

Mao Mao chuckles slightly, silently relenting to Badgerclops’ attempts to put him at ease. Maybe this whole ordeal won’t be so bad after all. Despite the fact that Mao Mao would rather be asleep right now, he’s glad that Adorabat is enjoying herself.

“Ah, Sheriff, there you are! What do you think of my beautiful creation? It’s a great success with the Sweetypies! I’m assuming they all love it by all the screaming and crying.”

King Snugglemane giddily approaches Mao Mao and Badgerclops, his luxurious fur blowing gently in the cold October breeze. His cape billows behind him with every step towards the duo. If nothing else, the king certainly knows how to make an entrance (and a haunted house).

“It certainly is something, my liege,” Mao Mao cheesily bows towards the king as he greets him.

“Adorabat went inside a little while ago. I’m sure she’s loving it.”

“Yes, that little one would like something like this, wouldn’t she? Strange one. Anyhow, I’m glad she’s enjoying herself, as she should. I’m glad I happened upon this wretched little place, it’s made the perfect haunted house.”

Mao Mao’s focus on the conversation is broken slightly as Ol’ Blue, accompanied by Penny and Benny, happily walk by. A glimpse of their conversation can be heard from where the three are standing. “I’m so impressed!” Blue merrily states, cueing Penny and Benny to nod vigorously in agreement, still holding hands. Mao Mao’s mood sours considerably after hearing that, following Blue with his piercing eyes until his focus is brought back by Badgerclops’ voice.

“It must have taken sooooooo much work to make your haunted house look this nasty, I could never. Manual labor is the spookiest thing I can think of.”

Badgerclops’ trademark laughter is somewhat interrupted by Snugglemane’s disgust filled sputtering, confusing the two as the king waves his hands dramatically back and forth at them.

“Ew, no. Good heavens, I think not. You two honestly think that I could make something that horrid? Honestly, what do you take me for? I found the house in this condition, of course. How absurd of you.”

Now this intrigues Mao Mao, but mostly concerns him. That can’t possibly be right. He stares in disbelief at the king as a sickening feeling of dread rises in his stomach.

“Wait, you found this place, just like this? That doesn’t make any sense. What is this place? Did somebody live here?”

“Goodness, I don’t know! I was doing my bi-weekly frollicking through the deep dark woods when I stumbled upon this place. It was disgusting and absolutely pitiable, so naturally, it reminded me of you peasants. You folk enjoy romping around in garbage, yes? Anyway, I have no idea where it came from or who it belonged to, though I suppose now it’s mine.”

With a haughty shrug, the king utters a quick goodbye and obliviously goes on his merry way, leaving Mao Mao and Badgerclops in his royal wake. Could Snugglemane really be that stupid? He stumbles on a horrible, broken, abandoned house, and the first thing he does is make it into a tourist attraction, bringing all the Sweetypies to play in it.

Mao Mao can feel his eyes twitch manically, his temper rising with every moment that passes. He was fine with staying out this late at night to ensure everyone’s safety, but that was under the assumption that the king’s haunted house wasn’t a rickety, sagging death trap. It could collapse at any moment!

Mao Mao’s face is now as red as his cape, and his gloved paws are clenched tightly into fists. Badgerclops soon takes notice, a fair amount of worry on his face as well. The two of them seem to be kicked into high gear as a certain realization dawns on both of them at once:

Adorabat is still in that disgusting house.

A loud, droning creak erupts from the building, instantly grabbing Mao Mao and Badgerclops’ attention. They have to get the Sweetypies out of that house.

“Badgerclops, we have to evacuate the haunted house. Those Sweetypies don’t stand a chance.”

“That’s a little intense, but you’re totally right, dude. They’re so clumsy and dumb, they might bring the house down, especially if Pinky’s in there.”

Without another word, Badgerclops’ metal arm transforms into arguably his favorite tool, the megaphone. He takes a deep breath, and then loudly shouts into the megaphone, grabbing the attention of everyone outside of the house.

“Attention! The king’s haunted house is unstable as heck, and you should definitely not go inside anymore, gosh. -Hey, I’m talking to you too, Chubbum, get outta here. It’s past your bedtime, I’m tired and I’m going home.”

The Sweetypies all look pretty disappointed, but begin to disperse and make their way back to town. Badgerclops’ arm hesitantly reverts back to normal as he turns to face Mao Mao, who’s doing a quick head count of the retreating citizens.

“There are still a couple of them inside of the house. Dang it, didn’t they hear the megaphone?!”

Mao Mao’s voice is fast and annoyed, as well as concerned, reflecting his mood incredibly well. He begins stomping towards the building in a huff and Badgerclops wordlessly follows, ducking under the broken door frame as they enter. The two of them immediately start trying to round up more people, but doing so is suddenly much harder.

Compared to the inside of the house, the forest outside is extremely well lit. Even Mao Mao’s cat eyes are having trouble adjusting to the thick darkness that surrounds them, finding it challenging to look ahead more than a couple of feet. The only source of light in the house are the beams of moonlight that shine through the various cracks and holes in the roof.

“Adorabat? It’s time to leave! Adorabat!”

Mao Mao tries calling out to Adorabat, but to no avail. Somehow their voices aren’t carrying through the house, despite being able to hear a pin drop, not to mention the fact that the house has more holes than swiss cheese. Nothing about this house is soundproof, in fact it’s a miracle the walls are still standing.

“Hey, Pinky! Get back here, the haunted house is closed!”

Pinky’s cackling laughter echoes throughout the house as Badgerclops sighs dramatically before chasing after him. A few other giggles are able to be heard along with Pinky’s. Badgerclops is almost completely out of sight as his voice rings through a side hallway leading to the voices.

“I’ll get them, dude. Just find Adorabat so we can get out of here. I’m so tired!”

Before Mao Mao can even protest, Badgerclops is gone, leaving him all along in the darkness. Thankfully, his eyes are starting to adjust, allowing him to see a dark, foreboding hallway just a few feet in front of him. Gulping down his fear, Mao Mao begins to make his way down the hall, further into the inky blackness despite his brain telling him not to. Even so, he carries on, setting aside his uncertainty for Adorabat’s sake.

Mao Mao’s arm hovers over the sword at his side without really knowing why, feeling more and more anxious with every step that he takes. His ears ring with the sound of echoing creaks and groans of the building, making him even more uneasy. His heartbeat pounds against his ribcage as his eyes scan what lies ahead, not that he can see very much of it. He wouldn’t be surprised if this hall turned out to be a dead end. Judging from the state of the rest of the house, rubble or debris could easily be blocking his path.

“Adorabat...! Come on, it isn’t safe in here!”

Mao Mao’s voice comes out sounding kind of pathetic, wavering a bit at the end of his shout, causing his face to contort into a cringe. This silly fear is so unlike him, but whether he likes it or not, an icy dread has filled his body. He doesn’t know what’s come over him, but he does his best to push his cowardice away, straightening up and holding his head up high.

His body almost has trouble moving forward, yet he continues to walk further in, arms gently sliding against the walls to guide him through. He can almost see the end of the hallway, just barely able to make out a different area. A little bit of relief floods his senses; maybe this isn’t so bad. In fact, he’s almost sure now that he’ll stumble upon Adorabat any second now. There’s absolutely nothing to fear, right?

“BOO!”

Terror.

Pure, unfiltered terror fills Mao Mao to the brim as Adorabat jumps out from god knows where, almost causing him to fall to the ground from the surprise. His fur instantly poofs out (more than you’d think was possible) and his pupils shrink into thin black slits, darting from place to place at a ridiculous speed, trying to figure out what’s going on.

Mao Mao slowly regains his composure and bearing on the situation, but not before taking out his sword out of habit and swinging it around haphazardly, screaming in a surprisingly high pitch the whole time, narrowly missing Adorabat with his wild slices. There’s almost no hallway left by the time Mao Mao is done with it, most likely about to collapse from the damage to the structure.

A couple of moments go by, void of any sound or movement whatsoever.

Adorabat doesn’t move.

Mao Mao doesn’t move.

The house even stops creaking for a couple of seconds as the two of them stare at each other.

“...Gotcha?”

“ADORABAT.”

Bonus:

The sky pirates’ mouths almost hit the forest floor when they see what’s happened to the building they’ve been squatting at. It somehow looks even worse than it did before they left for the night to go scavenging. At least it looked vaguely like a house before! Now it just looks like a heap of gross old wood on the ground, totally irredeemable and inhabitable. It only takes a couple of moments for them to all notice how much trash has been left on the ground as well. Whoever came and trashed their shelter did not care about the environment.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

#Mao Mao #Heros of Pureheart #Halloween #Badgerclops #Adorabat #King Snugglemane

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noona-clock · 6 years

Text

Working On It - Part 3

Genre: Teacher!AU

Pairing: Brian (Day6) x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, Oh, yeah, and I love you, Nothing’s Wrong

Of course, the first thing out of Sam’s mouth after you’d arrived home from The Grind had been, “Did he pay for your coffee?”

You’d had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, and you’d simply answered with, “It wasn’t a date. Get ready for bed.”

Thankfully, he hadn’t brought it up again the next day or over the weekend, and it had now been almost a week since you’d told Brian your somewhat tragic life story over hot, caffeinated beverages.

You were currently on your lunch break at work, trying to pay some bills online while devouring a PB&J. Just after you let out a sigh of relief when the final bill transaction went through (it was payday in a couple of days, so you were severely struggling), you remembered you’d seen a couple of email notifications from Sammy’s school.

You quickly tapped on your mail app, opening the first one you came across.

It only took a few seconds of scanning the message to realize he’d gotten in trouble again. Math class this time. His teacher wanted to meet with you after school - today if that was possible. You let your head hang, squeezing the bridge of your nose with your thumb and index finger.

“What’s wrong?”

You jumped, lifting your head up to see one of the dentists on the other side of the desk. She was dropping off a patient’s file, but she knew you were on your lunch break, so she simply set it off to the side so you could put it away later.

“Oh,” you breathed. “I -- I got another email from Sammy’s school. I have to go meet with one of his teachers again. Is it okay if I leave a little early? I’m so sorry.”

“Y/N, of course, it’s fine,” the dentist assured you with a nod. “I think we only have a couple of appointments this afternoon, anyway.”

You thanked her profusely, promising you wouldn’t keep having to leave early for these parent-teacher conferences.

But then you remembered there had been two emails from the school.

You shifted your gaze back to your phone and clicked on the second one, reading it as quickly as you could.

Instead of making your heart sink, though, this one lifted your spirits. It was from the counselor, and she had just wanted to let you know that she had seen Sammy for the first time today. She wanted to see him twice a week from now on, so you knew that meant he was in need of some serious help.

Of course, he was. The boy had just lost both of his parents at once. Sometimes, when you cried yourself to sleep, it was only because you felt so bad for him.

He was an annoying pre-teen most of the time, a serious little shit some of the time, but underneath it all, he was a sweet kid. And he was your nephew. He was family. You loved him as much as it was possible to love a kid you didn’t physically give birth to. All you wanted to do was help him, and you felt really good about this counselor. You felt, for the first time in a while, like there was actually hope.

So, at least it wasn’t all bad news coming from school today. That was a small victory you were more than glad to accept.

A few hours later, you found yourself in a time warp. Except, rather than experiencing something which had happened years or even decades ago, you were repeating something which had happened just last week.

You parked at the school, signed in at the front desk, asked the clerk for directions, met Sammy’s teacher, apologized for his behavior, promised he would do better, and...

Well, you just felt completely incompetent. Again. Useless as a parental figure. Again.

You had one hand on Sammy’s shoulder as you walked in the hallway, headed toward the exit. Neither of you had said anything yet; you were still trying to figure out exactly what to say. Apparently, what you’d said last time hadn’t quite worked, although he’d gotten in trouble in math this time - not English.

And speaking of English...

You saw a very familiar figure up ahead, walking toward the two of you, and a smile came to his lips when he realized who you were.

“Br -- Mr. Kang,” you greeted when he got close enough, mustering up the best grin you could at the moment.

“Hey,” he replied. He slowed to a stop in front of you, his hands casually slung in his pockets. And then he nodded toward Sammy. “Hey, Samuel.”

“Hey,” Sammy replied darkly, just barely meeting his eye.

“I really enjoyed the poem you turned in today,” Brian continued. “You did a great job.”

You squeezed Sammy’s shoulder, wanting him to know you were proud of that - even if you were still upset with him.

“Thanks,” Sammy murmured. He then glanced up at you, shrugging your hand off. “I’m gonna go to my locker. I’ll meet you at the car.”

You simply nodded, your eyes following him as he headed off down the hall and turned the corner.

“I guess he’s moved on from disrupting your class to disrupting his math class,” you said softly, though you tried to keep your tone light.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, he’s been a lot better since we talked.”

“That does help, actually. Hopefully, I won’t have to meet with all of his teachers, though. That would be just a little excessive,” you chuckled.

Brian let out a breath of a laugh before his expression turned into one of soft concern. “How are you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m all right,” you replied with a shrug. “Doing what I can. Oh! I got an email from the counselor today. She said she met with him, and she wants to see him two times a week. I’m sure I won’t hear anything about it from Sammy.”

“No, probably not,” Brian chuckled. “I’m glad she got to him so quickly.”

“Seriously, thank you.” You reached out and put a hand on his arm in just the way he had done to you more than once last week. “You truly don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do. I know I have a lot of students, but I really do care about all of them. I want to help them in any way I can.”

You couldn’t stop a very admiring grin from appearing on your lips, and in the back of your head, you wondered if you were kind of looking at Brian the same way that girl had looked at her manager boyfriend at The Grind last week.

“I sincerely hope there are more teachers out there like you,” you told him, feeling your cheeks get just a bit warm.

Brian quickly looked down at the floor then, shuffling his feet as a bashful smile pulled at his lips. “I just love my job, is all,” he told you with an embarrassed chuckle. And then he changed the subject, his eyebrows raising when he asked, “Can I walk you out to your car?”

You let your hand fall from his arm, moving it to clutch your purse strap a bit awkwardly. “Yeah, sure,” you answered.

Brian turned around, allowing you to lead the way before falling into step next to you.

“So, Sammy really turned in a good poem today?” you asked a bit skeptically.

“He did,” Brian affirmed. “I don’t know what you said to him after our meeting, but whatever it was, it worked. He’s been showing a lot more effort in his work the past few days.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. “Honestly... all I said was it’s one thing to disrespect me at home, but he can’t disrespect his teachers. It can’t happen anymore.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, I told him I wasn’t good at English, either, and maybe we could get him a tutor. But he said a definite ‘no’ to that. And then he called you kinda cool for a nerdy, old guy.”

“What?!” Brian laughed. “He called me a nerdy, old guy?!”

“Don’t you worry, I got onto him for that,” you grinned. “I said you were definitely not that much older than me, and if he wanted pizza for dinner, he would take it back. And he did. He said we were both very, very young.”

“See? I told you he was a bright boy.”

You felt pure, genuine laughter bubble up in your throat, and you honestly wondered how long it had been since you’d laughed. Really laughed. You and Sammy had some good times - especially when you got him to let you play video games with him - but you still couldn’t quite remember the last time you’d laughed until you cried. Or until your stomach hurt. Or until you couldn’t breathe.

You also wondered how long it would be until you laughed like that again.

Brian opened the door leading to the parking lot when you arrived at the front of the school, and you murmured a soft ‘thanks’ after you waved good-bye to the receptionist at the desk.

“Hopefully, I won’t run into you again like this,” you said when you saw Sam leaning against the passenger side door of your car. “I would very much like to not visit the school again. Unless it’s to chaperone a field trip or something. But it was still nice to see you.”

“It was nice to see you, too,” Brian replied.

You could’ve sworn he purposely slowed his steps, so you did, too. And then he took one giant step forward, enough to get in front of you, and he turned around to face you.

“Do you think -- could I get your phone number?”

Your brow furrowed, and you tilted your head slightly in confusion. “Did I forget to fill it out on the registration form?” you asked, racking your brain to try and remember. I mean, you had only gotten emails from the school so far...

“No,” he answered with a barely detectable grin. “You didn’t forget. I just... didn’t want to text you out of the blue.”

“Ohhhhh, gotcha.”

But... wait - did you really get it? What did he actually mean?

“You want to text me?” you asked, just in case you’d heard him incorrectly.

“If it’s okay with you.”

You honestly had no idea why Sammy’s English teacher would want to text you, but... okay. “I mean, yeah. Why not?”

That barely detectable smile turned into a real one, and Brian turned back around so he could finish walking you to your car.

Once you’d unlocked the doors, Sam wasted no time in scrambling inside, completely ignoring both you and Brian (though, you weren’t surprised).

“Thank you again,” you said a bit softly as Brian opened the door for you.

“You’re welcome,” he nodded, one corner of his lips lifted into a rakish half-smile.

After you sat down, started the car, and buckled your seat belt, you waited for Brian to be safely out of the way before backing up and starting your drive home.

“Why did Mr. Kang walk you out?” Sam asked, his gaze focused on the moving scenery out of his window.

“I dunno,” you shrugged. “Because he’s polite.”

“...What did you talk about?”

“He told me how well you’re doing in his class,” you said, deciding to leave out the part where he’d asked for your number. Sam would totally get the wrong idea.

“...He did?”

“Yep,” you answered casually. “And I’m very proud of you for that. I would love to hear things like that from your math teacher, too.”

Sam simply sighed, and that was the last noise he made until you were pulling into the parking lot in front of your apartment complex.

“I think Mr. Kang likes you,” was the first thing he said to break his silence.

“What?!” you laughed. “What are you talking about?”

“He walked you out to your car. He was smiling at you!”

“So? That’s called being friendly and having manners. You’ve heard of those before, right?” you teased. “Manners?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Sam waited until the two of you were out of the car before continuing. “He’s into you. First, he asked you out for coffee, and now he’s walking you to your car. I’m telling you, he likes you.”

You pursed your lips and shook your head, letting out a little giggle. “That is not correct,” you said in your best impression of that one Chrish Vine.

youtube

Sam let out a dismayed groan. You laughed out loud before stepping over to him and hooking your arm around his neck.

“You love me so much, don’t you?” you beamed.

“No, but Mr. Kang does.”

“Sammy!”

“I mean, I do love you!”

You simply rolled your eyes. Twelve-year-olds have some imagination, huh?

“What do you want for dinner?” you asked as you unlocked the door to your apartment.

“Pizza.”

“What else do you want for dinner?”

“McDonald’s.”

“Spaghetti it is.”

Sam, knowing you were going to tell him this as soon as you closed the door behind you anyway, went straight to the couch and unzipped his bookbag. And while he got started on homework, you got started on dinner.

It had been a long week - and it was only Wednesday - so after Sam had helped you clean up after dinner, you’d proclaimed he could play video games since you had plans to do a face mask and catch up on your favorite sitcom.

“Did you know you’re the best aunt ever?” he’d asked, pointing a finger at you.

“Yes, I did, but it’s nice to hear someone else say it,” you’d replied. And then you’d checked your time on your phone. “You have two and a half hours.”

Sam had immediately scrambled over the back of the couch, grabbed the remote, turned the TV on, and got his video game controller ready.

You had turned toward your bathroom, opened one of the few sheet masks you owned, and got ready to relax.

Now, ten minutes later, you were leaning against your pillow with your head tilted up to keep the mask on, pulling up the latest episode of your TV show. Just after you pressed ‘play,’ though, the sound of a text message coming through on your phone pierced through the air, your screen lighting up with the notification.

You quickly paused the show, lifting your phone up to your face and seeing it was a message from an unfamiliar number. Your brow furrowed as you slid your finger over, waiting to read this mystery message.

Oh! Duh. He’d just told you this afternoon he was going to text you. You’d completely forgotten, but now you were curious all over again.

You typed out a quick reply, even sending an emoji because you were cool and young and hip, just like him.

You were just about to lock your screen after changing his contact name, but you noticed he read your message almost immediately and started typing something within seconds.

Your brow furrowed slightly as you waited, and when his message appeared...

What in the world could he be talking about? You were about to reply with “Okay, I’m listening...” but you saw he had already started typing again.

You held your breath as you stared at the three little dots, an anxious bundle of nerves starting to form in your stomach.

...Oh, wow.

Part 4

#young k scenarios #young k imagines #young k fanfic #young k au #young k fluff #day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #day6 fanfic #day6 au #day6 fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop au #kpop fluff #young k #brian kang #day6 brian #day6 brian fanfic

586 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Rising from the Ashes (9/?)

Summary: When her husband died, Emma wasn’t sure that she could ever move on. He left her with a broken heart and a baby who was only three-months old. It’s enough to take most people down, to make them not want to keep going, but Emma Swan isn’t most people. She’s stronger than she has any right to be. And after years of heartache, she’s found ways to move on…one of those being in Neal’s best friend, Killian Jones.

As she’s always known, however, things are more complicated than they ever seem to be.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I’d just like to thank @shady-swan-jones for sending me the prompt that inspired this story. I thought it was simply going to be a one shot, but I’m having too much fun exploring everything as a part of a bigger story! And I know that you guys are really enjoying me ripping your hearts out. lol. ❤️

Double “-/-” around the flashback.

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Tag list: @artistic-writer @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog @mayquita @bmbbcs4evr @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @shady-swan-jones @snowbellewells @snow-into-ash @andiirivera @mariakov81 @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @kristi555 @facesiousbutton82 @superchocovian @jonirobinson64

“Momma, do you know where my red jacket is?”

“Is it not in your closet?”

“Nope.”

She sighs, leaning her head back against the wall with Christmas ornaments piled between her legs. She’s been adding back the hooks that fell off while they were all up in storage for the past year. It’s pretty much all of the ornaments, and since she’s tired of doing this every year, she bought the nice hooks that are supposed to stay on. It just means that she has to do them all.

God, she cannot wait to go back to work even if it does mean leaving Ada at nursery because she needs another kind of structure than this.

“Do you need it right now?”

“Yeah. Avery’s mom is going to take us ice skating tonight, and you said the blue one isn’t warm enough.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, I’ll go look for it later. Why don’t you go get your dad and ask him to come and help you to put all of these hooks on?”

“He’s napping.”

“Seriously?”

Henry shrugs. “Yeah, he said he was tired.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” she repeats to herself, running her hands through her hair. All she really wants is a nap as well, but she’s got Henry while Killian’s at the grocery store with Ada getting food for this afternoon while they decorate the tree. “Do you want to watch a movie while I go look for it?”

“Can I watch the Grinch?”

She smiles to herself before picking up all of the ornaments and placing them back in the container. “Yeah, I’ll set it up, and I promise I’ll be back to watch it with you as soon as I find your jacket for tonight? Do you also need your skates?”

“Yep.”

“Of course you do.”

She leans down to press a kiss into Henry’s hairline before setting the movie up for him. She’s got no idea where any of his stuff is, especially since they just went through the attic for all of their Christmas decorations, so she assumes it’s all simply somewhere in his closet.

So of course it’s not. His skates are, but she’s stupidly realized that they’re far too small. How did she not think about that? Probably because she’s had two straight days of hell that seem infinitely worse than everything else. She’s trying so damn hard to be positive, to remember all of David’s encouraging words, but it’s difficult when he’s not here reminding her of them in the hard times. And texting him isn’t exactly the same, especially when she’s not sure that she wants him to know absolutely everything that’s so messed up in her life.

It’s a lot.

She’d been so annoyed with Killian yesterday, everything he did rubbing her the wrong way, and she knows that it’s because she’d stayed up all night simply replaying conversations and memories and everything she should have left alone.

She was wallowing. She knows this, but recognizing something and stopping are two totally different things.

Then he’d come home from his dentist’s appointment with a smile on his face trying to talk to her like everything was as it should be, and she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t, so she snapped. It felt so good to let her anger out, but she knows that she only got part of it released before she pulled back and stepped away, not wanting to take things too far, not wanting to say things she’d truly regret. They’re so damaged right now, and as good as it felt to yell at him, she knows that they’re on the same team despite what she said. Even if they burn down in flames and are left as nothing but ashes, they’re always going to be on the same team because of their kids.

God, she hurts.

And then while they’d been at the Christmas tree farm Killian had pulled her to the side and told her what happened to Henry at school. She could see the hesitation in his eyes, could see how nervous he was scratching behind his ear, but he told her everything. She knows it couldn’t have been easy for him, could see the vein bulging in his forehead as he relayed the story between two duglas fir trees, and as pissed as she was at the fact that there are parents at Henry’s school calling her a whore (which is absolutely ridiculous and takes women back a solid fifty years), she was infinitely more upset that Henry was having to go through something so ridiculous. He’s eight. He shouldn’t have issues like having to deal with his classmates calling his mom a whore.

He’d seemed fine as they walked along the lot, a smile on his face as he talked about how big each tree was to all three of them, but Killian didn’t hold back in talking about how upset he’d been. The words “we need to talk about all of this some more” were on the tip of her tongue when Henry yelled her name as he pointed up at a tree. They’d gotten interrupted, and she hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to Killian again as she carried Ada over to where Henry was.

She really needs to talk to Killian because she can’t live like this anymore. She can’t live with her life full of more questions than answers and uncertainties than certainties. She can’t live like this. They have to talk.

And not just about them either. About everything.

Walking out of Henry’s room and down the hall to hers, she heads to her closet and starts going through all of the shirts and jackets looking for Henry’s red jacket. She has no idea why it would be in here, but it always seems like this is the place where things go missing. Sure enough, she sees the box she just marked ‘winter jackets’ sitting on the top shelf on Killian’s side of the closet. She can’t reach up there on her own, so it takes some maneuvering to get a chair out of the bedroom into the closet so she can stand up to get the box. She still has to press up on her toes to get it, and she thinks she’s got it until she stumbles and knocks the box down, having to catch herself on the bar that hangs all of Killian’s suit jackets that she just knocked over, all of the clothes tumbling to the ground with a large thud.

The saying when it rains it pours really seems to be sticking around for her right now.

It’s just raining suit jackets. And Henry’s red puffer jacket that tumbled out of the box.

It takes awhile to get the chair moves back so she can pick everything up, especially in her attempt to make sure all of the jackets are in the order that Killian likes (sometimes he’s so weird about things like this). His old dress whites are the last thing she hangs up, and as she’s straightening out the wrinkles in it, she feels a hard box in the pocket that immediately stops her in her tracks.

Holy shit.

She can feel her heartbeat in her ears. It’s actually in her ears, and if she was breathing, she’s sure that would be irregular too. Her hands shake as she reaches into the pocket, pulling out a small blue velvet box, and she nearly vomits right then and there. She shouldn’t open this. She shouldn’t. It’s not her business. This really isn’t her business, but now that she’s seen it, she doesn’t think she’s going to be able to live not knowing what’s inside.

She knows that it’s a ring, but for some reason she needs to see the physical proof of it.

Her teeth clamp together and her eyes close before she’s snapping it open, opening one eye to look at the diamond that’s in her hands. It’s gorgeous, just a simple oval diamond with a gold band that shines under the light in the closet.

This is – Killian was going to propose to her, she realizes, and her legs shake beneath her until she’s sliding down the wall and curling herself into a ball while she continues to stare at the ring, disbelief that it’s real. They’d talked about getting married. It wouldn’t have been completely out of the blue, but she had no idea that he’d bought a ring, that he must have been holding onto it for months now.

Finding out like this feels wrong, dirty even.

It should have never been like this.

None of this should have ever been like this.

“Hey, Ems, what was that sound?” Neal asks from her bedroom, and she quickly stuffs the ring into her shirt and her bra before he comes into view, half of his face covered in pillow creases. “Why are you on the floor?”

“I, um,” she starts, reaching up to fidget with her necklace, “I accidentally knocked down Killian’s suits when I was trying to get a box off of the top shelf, and I guess I’m on the floor trying to finish the clean up.”

Neal quirks an eyebrow at her, and she has to force a smile onto her face while her heart still beats quickly. That was a bad lie, and even she knows it. “I’m glad it was just the suits. It woke me up from my nap.”

“Sorry,” she cringes, getting up from the ground and brushing down her jeans before she grabs Henry’s jacket and holds it over her chest. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great. I’m just tired as all. It’s weird working a desk job again, especially because I stayed late yesterday to finish up some reports.”

“I cannot wait,” she laughs, nudging past him to walk out of the closet. “I love spending time with Ada, but I want to go back to work. Chilling at home isn’t really my thing.”

“Trust me, no one knows that more than me.”

Her steps stop at his words, but she shakes it off and keeps walking out of the room, hoping that Neal will follow her. Having him in her bedroom feels wrong, and all she can think about is the box pressing into the skin of her chest and a similar box that Neal gave her eleven years ago when he proposed under the cherry blossom trees in D.C. when they’d been out on a walk. She was so young then, so in love, and her mind can’t wrap itself around the difference in her life then and the difference in her life now.

“Yeah,” she chuckles awkwardly, twisting her head to make sure he’s following her as she stands in the hallway, boxes of Christmas decorations next to the stair railing that looks over the entrance to the house, waiting for them to come face to face with each other. “So, um, do you want to help out with some decorations? We tend to get really festive around here.”

“The giant tree in the living room tells me that.”

“We always get a big tree. It’s, like, this tradition now because I used to have this tiny fake tree when I lived in an apartment after you…after you died, and, well, um, Killian wasn’t having it. So now we have these giant real trees, and Henry gets to put this swan tree topper on it even though it looks ridiculous now.”

His lips curl up into a smile, his entire face crinkling, and she feels her own face do the same thing. “That’s wonderful. Do you guys do the whole Santa thing?”

“Yep. Santa comes to visit, and he leaves some smaller presents unwrapped on the couch while presents from us go wrapped under the tree. It’s Ada’s first Christmas, so I’m super excited about it. I guess it’s your first Christmas too. With Henry, I mean. So if you need help finding him a gift, I can go shopping with you.”

“He likes trains, doesn’t he? That’s what he said.”

“Yeah, but we have far too many trains in this house. Killian and I, I think, are going to get him a bike as his big gift, so I don’t know. You could get him something to go with that. Or maybe you could get him some more journals or crayons. Uh, books, he likes books. Or games for his Switch thing. We try to go minimal on the games, but he can get a couple. I’ll just have to tell you what games to get. Ooh, or – ”

“Emma,” Neal laughs, reaching over to put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing her sweater to get her to stop rambling, “you don’t have to list the entire toy catalog of toys. We can just go shopping or something. Though it’s not like we can go to Toys R Us anymore.”

“Look at you all up and current on the news,” she sighs, reaching up to quickly pat his shoulder before moving her hand back down to keep clutching Henry’s jacket to her chest.

“Well, it’s kind of hard to talk to my coworkers about shit when I don’t know anything that’s happened for years.”

“True. You want to go help set some decorations up now?”

“I’d like that. But, I, uh,” he mumbles, his feet staying put while he smiles with that crooked smile of his that she always found so charming, “I was wondering if you were okay, Ems. I know it’s been a lot of changes, but you’ve seemed a little frazzled over the past few weeks.”

“I’m fine,” she lies, pressing her lips together in what she hopes looks like a genuine smile. “You’re right that I’ve been a bit stressed, but we do have a lot going on.”

“And you and Jones, you’re fine too?”

“Yeah,” she spits out, knowing that she can’t start crying now. “We’re great. Like I said, even with how absolutely thrilled I am to have you back, it’s been a lot on me and Killian. I’m happy to do it, though.”

“I understand. It can’t be easy to have your husband living in your house with your boyfriend.”

Well shit. She knows he doesn’t mean anything by it, but she might as well tell him now. She’s going to start telling people how she feels today, and it might as well start with Neal. Maybe not everything, but she can start.

“We’ve divorced, Neal,” she mumbles, hoping that he can hear her as her eyes look at the light fixture just behind his head. Someone needs to dust that. “I don’t – I know that it’s not fair to you, but we are. I signed the papers last year to have you officially declared dead and us divorced. So technically we’re not married, and as much as I will always love you, I’m not sure that I see us ever getting back together or contesting the papers or whatever. I’m sorry.”

Her gaze falls back to his, and she can see a storm rage behind the brown of his eyes. They’re widened for a moment before he closes them, lashes landing against his cheeks while the corners of his lips curl up into a small smile that makes all of the lines on his face appear, the lines that she’s still getting used to.

She really did just blurt that out, didn’t she?

It feels damn good.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he begins, his voice as soft as she’s ever heard it, and she’s not sure if her heart breaks or heals as he opens his eyes again, water pooling in them that makes him look like Henry. “I mean, I kind of figured. I’ve been a little scared to talk about the legalities of it all, but I’ve pretty much known since you told me that you and Killian were together. You’ve been my wife in my mind for over a decade now, so I guess I’m still going to refer to you that way. I’ll try to work on it.”

“Neal, it’s fine,” she promises, stepping forward and wrapping him in a hug, hoping the Henry’s jacket will keep him from feeling the ring box. “It’s okay for you to need to adjust. You’ve been through hell, and you came back to an entirely new world. Henry and I, Killian too, we’re always going to love you.”

“I love you guys too,” he whispers as he buries his face in her hair.

For all of their problems, both past and present, she knows that nothing could ever change that she does love him in a way. He was her best friend for a long time, and he gave her Henry. For all the bad, there’s still good, and right now she can’t find it in her to dredge up all of the bad when having to tell Neal that she legally took him out of his own family.

But maybe that’s what she’ll work on next.

After they pull back from each other, they walk downstairs and turn to go back to the living room where Henry is still perched on the couch watching The Grinch, and she tosses him his jacket, listening to him murmur a “thank you” before she plops down next to him and pulls a box of ornaments toward she and Neal so he can help her thread all of them with the new hooks. It doesn’t take long with help, and they get everything done before the movie is over. Neal asks her if she wants to go ahead and start hanging the ornaments, but even with how upset she is with him right now, it doesn’t feel right without Killian. He should be here.

She wraps her arm around Henry’s shoulder and pulls him into her side, kissing his hair even if he protests a little bit. One day he’s going to be too cool to be affectionate with her, but today is not that day. He’s her little boy, and all she wants is for him to be happy. His day yesterday was so rough, and he doesn’t at all deserve anything that he’s had to go through because his parents’ lives are difficult and because other parents don’t know how to have private conversations. He deserves to get to watch Christmas movies and go ice skating with his best friend. He deserves for his parents not to be separated and moping despite how hard they’re trying not to seem upset.

She’s a mom. She’s been a mom for eight and a half years, whether she was ready for it or not, and life doesn’t stop for her no matter what’s going on. She has to keep going.

-/-

“Neal, I’m serious,” she groans, quickly twisting her hair into a braid so that her hair will stop falling in her face while she looks over her notes. “I don’t want to go out tonight.”

“Come on, babe,” he smiles, walking over to her and tucking her bangs behind her ear before she can pin them back, “it’ll be fun. You’ve been studying for days. It’ll be nice to get to go out.”

“I’ve been studying because I have finals coming up in two weeks, and I’ve got to keep my GPA up for my scholarship. It’s not like I’m going to make enough when I graduate to pay off loads of debt. Plus I still want to get my Masters and – ”

“Ems,” Neal whispers, leaning down to press a kiss on her cheek, “it’s okay. You work so hard, and I love you for that. But sometimes it’s good to take a break. Besides, when we get married, you can use my grant for your Masters. It won’t cost you any money.”

“Really? You’re sure that I can use it?”

“I’m positive. I looked into it and everything. I know your mom doesn’t have much money, but we’re going to be set.”

“I know you’re good at your job, but I don’t think it’s going to set us up for life.”

He shrugs before walking back to his dresser and pulling on a flannel shirt over his t-shirt. “I’ve got savings. I’m twenty-seven and have some leftover stuff that my mom left me when she died. It’s not like I’m just starting out. So we’ll be comfortable.”

She brings her bottom lip between her teeth, biting a bit while she weighs the pros and cons of going out tonight. It’d probably be fun. It’s been awhile since they’ve gone out.

“Okay, I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to drink tonight, okay? I’ve got to wake up early and go through my notes again since I only got to section three.”

“That sounds perfect.”

After she changes into jeans and a sweater, throwing her red jacket on to combat a bit of the cold, they go to Oceania, which is Neal’s favorite bar. She’s never seen the appeal of it, but it’s apparently where everyone here in the military goes on their nights off, no matter the branch. So she’s been here a few times, and it’s that fact that has her moving away from the bar and going to get a booth in the back. They’re much more comfortable, and she’s less likely to get hit on by random guys. She’s fine with it if only because she can take care of herself and it rarely goes too far, but when Neal has had a few beers, he doesn’t think the most rationally. She loves him, but sometimes when he pulls shit like that, she wants to tell him to fuck off.

It’s not often though. He’s a good guy, and she’s so happy that she’s found him. He’s probably the first person besides Ruth and David to really care for her, and he makes her feel like she’s found another home. A really good one. She spent most of her life alone, and while sometimes she still prefers it to be that way, it’s good to have a family.

She twists the ring on her finger, looking at the large diamond, and fiddles with it until she sees Neal coming back with their drinks. He’s just got a water for her, but she can see his almost empty glass of whiskey. She can also see that he’s bringing a group of people with him, guys following around him and talking to him, and she braces herself for the introductions. She’s always been so bad with names, and it doesn’t help that they always all look alike.

“Babe,” Neal greets, sliding into the booth next to her and giving her the glass of water, “I want you to meet a couple of guys. That’s Scarlett, Whale, and then you know that guy Jones I’m always talking about?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s him on the end there.”

She waves to all of them since she can’t reach over to them, and they all wave back. She’s never heard of Scarlett and Whale before, but she knows a bit about Jones. Killian. His first name is Killian even though Neal prefers last names. It’s a military thing, she guesses. Neal is always talking about him because they watch soccer together and sometimes train together outside of their units, but she doesn’t really know a lot about him. He’s not really how she pictured him either.

His hair is a little longer than a crew cut, his face not exactly clean shaven, and even in the dim lights of the bar she can see the blue of his eyes. He’s attractive. Anyone with eyes can see that, and the fact that he’s dressed in tight black jeans and a fitted t-shirt doesn’t hide the fact that he’s fit. But all of these guys are fit. It’s the nature of their jobs.

What she really doesn’t expect, however, is the accent.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, lass,” Killian greets, sliding into the booth across from her and flashing her a toothy grin. “Cassidy’s not one for talking too much about you, but I already know that you are far too good for him.”

“Undoubtedly,” she teases, laughing a bit at his joke while she pats Neal’s forearm. “But you can’t tell him that.”

“It’ll be between us, love.”

“I’m literally sitting right here.”

“I was enraptured by your fiancée’s beauty, mate,” Killian sighs, winking at her before looking at Neal. “Can you blame me?”

“A little bit yeah.”

“Hey,” she laughs, slapping his arm, “this is prime time where you say the same thing happens to you.”

Scarlett and Whale both whistle at that, and she turns to look at them still standing until they both squeeze into the booth next to Killian. She kind of forgot they were there.

“Cassidy, you’re supposed to compliment your lady.”

“Scarlett, you are the last person who should be giving me advice on this.”

“Hey, I dated Anna for years. I just fucked it all up.”

“Exactly,” Neal sighs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder while he chugs down the rest of his drink. “I’m not going to fuck this one up. Emma’s great, and she’s graduating from college soon, unlike every single one of us.”

“What are you studying, love?” Killian asks her, and everyone else at the table groans, much to her confusion. “Bloody hell, it’s not bad to ask someone what they’re studying. If you don’t want to hear about school, you can go sit someone else.”

“I know all about this, so I’m going to go get another drink,” Neal states before unwrapping his arm and getting up from the table. “Do you two want to come and join me?”

“Yep. It was nice to meet you, Emma,” Whale mumbles, smiling at her before getting out of the booth.

“Yeah, it was”, Scarlett adds. “I’m sure we’ll be back later. I want to talk to whoever is in charge of the music tonight.”

“It was nice to meet you guys too.” She watches them all walk away, their conversation fading the further they get and the louder the music playing over the speaker becomes. She’s never been great with small talk, so she’s a bit hesitant to be left with this stranger. He’s not really a stranger. She knows a little about him, but still. She wasn’t really prepared to be having a conversation with just him. “So, yeah,” she starts, focusing her eyes back on Killian as he taps his fingers on the table, “I’m getting my bachelor’s in psychology. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do, but I was always somewhere between social worker, therapist, and guidance counselor for high school kids. I’m leaning more toward counselor because I think I’ll enjoy it while also helping out. My counselor is the one who encouraged me to go to college when I didn’t think it was a possibility for me, so yeah.”

“That sounds brilliant,” he tells her, and she’s not sure why she feels relieved hearing it, but she does. “I never went to university, as you heard. I’d always wanted to, but after I was unexpectedly moved here when I was twelve, things were a bit crazy and money was tight. And by the time I’d turned eighteen, the Navy was my best option. And if I really wished to, I could always go back to school.”

“It’s not for everyone, but I definitely think it’s worth it. So you’re from – ”

“England,” he finishes for her. “I grew up south of London, and my brother has moved back there since he married a woman from home. But I like it here, have citizenship and all that, so I decided to stay. Though I do like to go back every now and then to make sure I don’t lose my accent. It makes people think I’m a hell of a lot smarter than I really am.”

“I was thinking it probably helped you get girls.”

He smirks at her, actually smirks, and she feels a shiver run down her spine. “That too, but I find that I actually have to be interesting to keep a girlfriend.”

She laughs at that, especially with the way that his brows move over his forehead. He’s funny, and even though she barely knows him, she has a gut feeling that he’s one of Neal’s better friends. They’re not all bad, but some of them are assholes.

“I mean, looks only get you so far, so I’m glad you realized that.”

Killian leans forward on the table and props his chin up in his hand. “So you think I’m attractive then?”

“That is not what I said,” she protests, blush rising on her cheeks.

“It’s what I heard. It’s fine, love. I know that life is unfair for other men when I’ve got the looks and the personality.”

“And you’re humble.”

“That I am,” he sighs, leaning back and wiping the smirk off of his face to show a soft smile. “But seriously, I’m most definitely kidding. It doesn’t hurt to be confident, but I don’t want you to think I’m some undeniable asshole.”

She hums, trying to think of what to say in response. She has a feeling that he’s quick on his toes and can turn any conversation on a dime. He’s kind of a mystery to her, but then again, he might be an open enough book for her to figure out. “Well, I just met you, so I’m thinking you’ll have to prove it over more time than just now. But, fair warning, I consider all people to be assholes until they prove themselves otherwise, so you have the tide working against you.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Yes.”

One side of his mouth ticks up before he reaches up to scratch behind his ear. “I like you, Swan. I have a feeling you and I are going to be good mates.”

“Really now?”

“Yep. Now tell me all of the weird things you can about Neal so that I can mess with him later.”

“You want me to help you mess with my fiancé?”

“I do indeed.”

“Okay, but only if I get to help. What is love if there’s not a little teasing involved?”

“Really damn boring.”

-/-

The front door opens, and she reaches forward to pause the movie, much to Henry’s dismay.

“Why are you pausing it?”

“We’ve got to go help Daddy bring in the groceries.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Henry groans and throws his head back against the couch before he’s scrambling up and walking out of the room with she and Neal following right behind him.

“Don’t look so excited to help,” Killian jokes as he watches Henry walk through the front door. “Hey, Swan. Ada has been a bit cranky, and I didn’t have a bottle so – ”

“So she needs me,” she sighs, stopping her steps toward the front door and turning to get Ada from her car seat on the floor. “Got it.”

“Thanks, love.”

She smiles tightly at him before she’s adjusting Ada on her hip and watching everyone else go outside to get the groceries. It won’t take all three of them, but they’ll learn that when one of them is coming back empty-handed. “Alright, bug,” she sighs, walking back into the living room and settling down in a recliner so she’ll be comfortable. “I’m sure you had a good time with your daddy, but you are fussy and need me, which is both reassuring and kind of annoying. Imagine what life would be like if Daddy could breastfeed.”

It’s a weird thought, but it’s a valid one nonetheless.

She moves to roll up her sweater and unsnap her bra when she’s suddenly reminded of the box she has hidden in there, the box that no one else can see right now.

Shit.

This day has been an absolute rollercoaster.

Quickly, she pulls the box out of her bra and stuffs it into the waistband of her leggings, the bulge obvious under the material, and gets Ada adjusted as much as she can, hoping that no one will pay her too much attention for the next few minutes before she can return the ring to Killian’s uniform jacket and stuff away all of her thoughts.

Or maybe not. Maybe she should talk to him. That’s what she’s been thinking all day. Now that she’s calmed a bit, she respects his choice of needing time, but she doesn’t respect his choice of not listening to her and her feelings, of not giving her an option. It’s selfish, but she can’t live in this sense of limbo. And it’s not like Killian hasn’t been selfish too. It’s too hard to act like she and Killian are okay when they’re not. It’s too hard to have to balance her crumbling relationship and her children and her ex-husband.

God, her chest feels lighter now that she’s not harboring that secret from Neal anymore.

She and Killian are going to talk. They have to. She has to take her life back because she has fought too damn hard for things to be okay for everything to fall apart because her kid got his dad back.

She’s going to get her life back if it kills her.

It’s going to kill her if she doesn’t, if she can’t. She has to get her life back.

She’s been so damn hurt by Killian, but honestly, all she wants is to be with him as long as they can work everything out.

“Mom,” Henry shouts as he runs into the room, “We’ve got cookies, but you guys can’t make them tonight because what if Ada eats them all while I’m with Avery?”

“Ada can’t eat cookies, kid.” “But what if you put them in the blender so she can?”

“We will not make the cookies without you, and Ada will not eat them. But, you know, when she’s older she can eat cookies, and you have to share.”

“I know. So you promise you won’t make the cookies without me?”

She sticks out her pinky, and Henry intertwines his with hers. “Promise.”

They spend their afternoon decorating the tree and the house, bright lights and ornaments adorning nearly every room. Killian puts Henry on his shoulders, and Henry puts the swan on top of the tree, completing everything in the house down to the wreath on the door that has a monogrammed “J” on it despite the fact that their household is made up of two Joneses, two Cassidies, and one Swan.

And a partridge in a pear tree.

Or a swan in a Christmas tree.

She doesn’t know. She’s lost her mind.

But for a couple of hours things seem normal again, and she feels her face hurt from smiling. It’s been a long time since that’s happened, and as she sends Henry off to go ice skating with Avery, money in his pocket to rent some new skates, she lets herself revel in it for a moment before she deals with the box that’s still pressing into the skin of her hip.

Before she takes her life back.

Once she gets Ada down for her nap, she take a deep breath (and then a couple more) and walks back into the living room where Killian and Neal are watching TV. She doesn’t understand how he can spend time with Neal and not her. Why does he need a break from her but not from Neal? Why doesn’t any of this make sense?

“Hey, Killian,” she asks, and he twists his head to look at her as he taps his fingers across the back of the couch, “can I talk to you for a minute?”

His eyes slant for a moment before they open back up, and he presses his lips together before nodding his head and rising from the couch. “Tell me if they catch the guy, yeah?”

“Sure thing, man.”

Killian walks over to her, and the moment he opens his mouth to say something, she nods her head and moves around the corner to that she can walk up the stairs, knowing for sure that Killian is following behind her, his footsteps heavy on the wood as it creaks beneath his weight at the same time that the weight in her shoulders begins to increase, her body humming in anticipation of laying all of her cards out on the table. She’s been through too much shit to have to go through more of it.

“Okay,” she sighs as they both walk into the bedroom, Killian closing the door behind him.

“You said you wanted to talk,” he asks calmly, sitting down on the edge of the bed as his eyes glance over to the chair that’s sitting in the closet. “What’s up?”

Her stomach churns, but she pushes it down, shutting her eyes for a moment before she’s lifting her shirt and taking the ring box out of her waistband and placing it on the bed right next to Killian. She opens her eyes to watch him, but all he does is widen his eyes before his hand is reaching out and thumbing over the velvet, caring for it like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Maybe it is to him.

Maybe to him it’s a physical representation of how their life should be.

“Emma – ”

“No,” she starts, straightening her back and crossing her arms over her chest, “I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen, okay? And then we can hash it out. We haven’t talked in months, and I’m sick of it. I can’t do it anymore. So you’re good to listen?”

He nods his head and presses his lips together again while his knuckles go white around the box.

“You are an idiot. Do you know that? You are an idiot, Killian. I love you so much that sometimes it hurts, and I thought that you felt the same way about me. I thought that you wanted a future with me, and finding that box today made me think that maybe you’ve changed your mind after all that we’ve been through. The damn break makes me think that too. I still want a future with you. I have never not wanted that. Do you understand me? Neal coming back is supposed to be a blessing. It’s not supposed to be something that’s going to tear us apart.”

“But what about him? What about your family? What about Henry?”

“You think that I want to be a man who accused me of having a drunken hookup with you and implied that that’s the only reason why I have my daughter? You think I want that? You think I want to be with a man who I don’t even know anymore? Who I barely knew then when I really think about it? Killian, I loved Neal a long time ago, still love him in a way now, but I was young. He was older. I thought he knew everything, that he could help me finally have the life I never got growing up.”

She shakes her head back and forth as the rage runs through her. She’s not even sure that it’s rage. It’s likely just the release of her emotions and of everything that’s been bottled up and festering below the surface.

“I was so bitter about my childhood still, about how no one wanted me for so long, and he did. He wanted me. You know all of this. You were there for a lot of it. But you weren’t there for the way that he would sometimes dismiss my feelings, for the way he would laugh at me when I got excited at things, for the way he wasn’t happy when I told him I was pregnant with Henry. I loved him, I thought the world of him, and I know that I’ve glossed over so much of that shit because I thought he had died and wanted Henry to think his dad was a hero. You thought he was a hero. And he is. But he is not the man I want to be with. So if you could get the stick out of your ass and just stop feeling guilty like I did and love me like you’re supposed to love me, I feel like we won’t have to play this stupid game anymore. I can’t...I can’t do it, Killian. I can’t hang on your string too.” By the time she’s finished talking, her chest is heaving, her shoulders moving up and down, and she can feel her heart beating between her ears. That’s not how anatomy works, but she can feel it. She can hear it. It’s also what causes her to start laughing, for laughter to bubble up and rise through her chest before it escapes past her lips in a sound that she would describe as insanity in the form of laughter. There’s no other way. She’s lost her mind. She really has.

“Are you okay?”

“No, no,” she laughs, a hiccup escaping her as she tries to see Killian through the tears that are pooling in her eyes. “No, I’m not okay. I’m not okay. I’ve lost my mind, and I’ve lost my life. I’ve lost everything.”

The tears that stemmed from laughter suddenly sting hotly behind her eyes, and something shifts behind her as her legs become shaky and she moves to sit on the ground, her back resting against the dresser, a knob digging into her skin that might as well be cutting into her.

“You have not lost anything,” he murmurs, and she can see the blur of him as he squats down next to her and pulls her into an embrace that she doesn’t fight. She encourages it, wrapping her arms around his waist and sobbing into his shoulder as she can feel his hands moving up and down her back, tracing her spine. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I fucked up, that I didn’t listen to you, that I wouldn’t talk to you, that I thought that I knew best. I don’t, Emma. I don’t. I love you, and I was terrified to lose you. I am always terrified to lose you, and I shouldn’t – I don’t know how to fix us when I’m the one who broke us.”

“I just want you to talk to me. I just want you to stop sleeping in the nursery and to come back in this room. I want you to stop feeling guilty. You are not keeping me from being from Neal. If I wanted to be with him, I would be. I love you, you insufferable jackass,” she sniffs, leaning back as much as she can with how their limbs are twisted so that she can look in his eyes, the blue cloudy enough to nearly look gray. “I love you,” she whispers, reaching up to caress his face, to feel his scruff against her fingertips, “and I want to have our family back. Isn’t that what you want? We were so happy. Don’t you want to go back to how we were?”

“More than anything.”

“Then stop being stubborn and talk to me so that we can be us again.”

He nods his head up and down before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against hers, the heat of his skin comfortable and familiar and wonderful. “I’m sorry.”

“I am too.”

“We need to talk about what’s going on with Henry at school.”

“We need to talk about a lot of things.”

“Aye, it’s just – ”

“What?” she smiles, her fingers still tracing his face, running over the scar on his cheek that he got when a mirror shattered on his ship and cut his face. Her heartbeat has calmed, the regularity of it returning, but all of the sudden it starts up again. This time not in fear, but in anticipation.

“I just really, desperately need to kiss you for a minute before we talk some more about how much of a jackass that I am and all of that other stuff.”

She laughs again, but this time it’s not quite so insane. It’s watery, but it’s happy. And instead of talking, she slams her lips forward to capture Killian’s lips with hers, and the softness is exactly like coming home after searching her entire life.

The kiss lingers for longer than she expects, a gentle caress turning into a desperate slow dance. She thought it would be frantic. In all of the nights that she allowed herself to imagine them coming together again, she always thought it would be frantic, but she should have known better. Sometimes they can be rough and hurried, coming together so quickly and harshly that they’re both left with bruises, but usually it’s soft and slow.

It’s like this.

It’s not frantic, but there’s still an urgency, a need, and she revels in the way that Killian’s nose presses heavily into her cheek, into the way that his scruff burns her as much as the heat of his hands snaking up underneath her shirt while her hands cup his jaw, feeling each movement of his mouth on hers.

The weights that have been on her shoulders, the ones that are lessening and gaining and changing every day, disappear into a lightness that she can’t explain. It’s giddiness and desire and love all wrapped up in one. They have so much to talk about, so much to figure out, but they need this. She can’t speak for Killian, not really, but somehow she knows.

When you love someone, you know.

Clothes are shed as the stand, and for the briefest moment she remembers Ada sleeping in her crib in the nursery and Neal watching television downstairs, but she really doesn’t need to be thinking about Neal when Killian’s hands are fumbling with the clasp of her bra, releasing it and letting her feel free as the rough pads of his thumbs ghost of her nipples while heat simmers under her skin. Ada, well Ada will sleep for another hour, maybe two, and if she wakes, they have the monitor.

It’s all a blur. She wants to remember it all, wants to memorize things like she did the first time they slept together, but the awkward fumbling and uncertainty are replaced by sure hands and even surer movements as they both rile each other up, metaphorical flames flickering across her skin as Killian hovers above her, teasing her until he slides in and begins rocking against her, full and thick and…like home.

She wishes she could think of something else, some other way to consider it, but Killian has been home to her for a long time, even longer than they’ve been together. He’s a steady partner for her, the person who often keeps her from spiraling, and he understands her. Maybe it’s that they both have some not so stellar childhoods. Maybe it’s that they have both been through great loss. Maybe they simply work in a way that she doesn’t need to dissect.

“Emma,” he whispers, his thrusts coming to a sudden halt and making her whine out in frustration. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” “Then why are you crying?”

He releases her hip to thumb away at the tears that have apparently fallen. Oh. She didn’t…she didn’t even know or realize, too caught up in the ecstasy and emotion of it all to notice that she’s crying.

She didn’t know.

“Do you not want to do this?” Killian asks her, the concern evident in his eyes, and she can feel him retreating until she moves her hands from his back and cups his cheeks, running her own thumbs over his cheeks, tracing the scar again.

“No, baby, no,” she promises, pushing back her frustration of having Killian still inside when he was just deliciously hitting all of the right places so that she can focus on what’s actually important right now. “I want to do this. I do. Don’t think otherwise. I didn’t even realize I was crying. I just – I love you so much, and I can’t…I don’t know how to express that with just my words. I think my body is letting out months of anxiety and sadness and relief over finally feeling like something in my life is right again.”

“For someone who claims not to be good with words, you were pretty good with them there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, slowly moving inside of her again, just a simple push and pull. He’s got this affection in his eyes, this life, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to the way that he looks at her like she hung the moon and created the tides of the ocean. Her breath always catches when it happens, her heart swelling, and she never wants it to stop. “That was really good, Swan. I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing. Let’s just…you want to have this conversation a little later? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing?”

Killian chuckles, something deep and throaty, before his lips are consuming her and his hips are snapping into hers. She’ll take that as a yes.

There’s a heaviness to his body over hers, a meaning to each snap of his hips, but she can’t explain it. She can’t think about it too much. They’ve fought before, absolute blow outs, but it’s never been like these past few weeks. Joining together has never been quite like this. It’s not that the sex is better or worse or different. They’re both still just as skilled and as in tune with each other as they’ve been for years, but it’s different.

She’s been craving normalcy, but she’ll gladly take this different, gladly take getting her life back.

She’ll take having them back.

And as she violently trembles beneath him, everything becoming too much for her and the emotions spilling over once again, she knows that she’s got them.

#rising from the ashes #captain swan #captain swan fic #cs ff #cs fic

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