#me sitting next to the women my brothers are dating/engaged to and hearing them scream 'YESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'

[britneyshakespeare]

james and logan can still backflip

[hookedonapirate]

Through the Rising Tide

Thank you so much for the beautiful graphic @itsfabianadocarmo​!

Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son.

Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past.

The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type.

Oh, and apparently their taste in women.

Or rather, one woman.

Feisty.

Blonde.

Gorgeous.

Green-eyed Goddess.

Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse…

Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident.

Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart.

Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces.

Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby.

Notes: 

Starts out as Jewelled Swan. Don’t like, don’t read!

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd​​ for looking it over!

This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take.

The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this:

"I hope you know through the rising tide

That I'll be here and you can lay by my side"

If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFJbLzEtoZw

P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says—

"There is no happiness without tears

No life without death

And no true love without heartbreak"

Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs).

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 //

Chapter 3

One Year Later…

 With a sleepy groan, Emma shoots out her hand to silence the loud, annoying noise coming from her phone. “Ugh…” She drops the device on the nightstand and retreats underneath the covers, not ready to get up yet. She’s never ready to get up in the morning. She rolls over to her other side, seeking warmth from the body lying next to her. She wraps her arms around his torso and buries her face in his chest, not wanting to leave him. But she has to get ready for work. She hates the thought of leaving his arms, though. They fit so well together like this, like two puzzle pieces.

 She knows the longer she lies here like this, though, the stronger the urge to stay will be. She attempts to force herself out of bed. She kisses her sleeping boyfriend’s forehead and starts to get up. His strong arms pull her back to him, his hands latching onto her hips, pulling her on top of him so she’s straddling him. Emma emits a sleepy moan when she feels his thickness pressed against her core.

 “Where do you think you’re going, love?” he asks, his voice groggy with sleep as he wraps his arms around her to ensure she won’t leave him.

 “I have to go to work,” she groans, clearly not happy about it. When he tightens his arms around her, she wiggles in his hold and laughs, trying to free herself, but honestly, she’s not trying very hard.

 He caresses her cheek and pulls her in for a lazy kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to taste her. She moans against his lips, her body tingling and molding to his as she rocks slightly against him, her arousal coating his hard length as he arches his hips into her, seeking more friction. Friction she desperately wants to give him.

 But as much as she wants to get caught up in the kiss, in the effect he has on her, as much as she wants to just give herself to him and ride him into the next world, she really has to get up and go to work. She breaks the kiss, as painful and difficult as it is. “Babe, you’re not making it easy,” she says breathlessly.

 He pouts as he looks up at her, his crystal blue eyes boring into her green ones, not making this any easier. No, the way he’s looking at her right now makes it ten times harder. 

 “Sure you don’t have time for a quickie?” he begs, releasing a small groan of desperation as he palms her naked breast, brushing the pad of his thumb over her nipple, making it hard. 

 “Babe, if you make me late—” Her pleas are instantly silenced when he moves his hands to her ass and squeezes, pressing her more firmly against him. 

 He flashes a devilish smirk, one tainted with mischief that she only witnesses when they’re either talking about sex, having sex or about to have sex. “Then I’ll get to fuck you for the next hour.” 

 Emma had actually planned on getting up, but when she feels Liam’s lips on her neck and his teeth nibbling her skin, when she feels the head of his cock at her entrance, all bets are off. A moan tumbles from her lips and soon, Liam is grabbing her hips and sliding into her. Emma sits up, placing her hands on his chest in total submission and rocks her hips back and forth, eager to have him completely buried inside of her. 

 “Oh, fuck, Emma. . .”

 He reaches for her breasts again and squeezes as she rides his dick. She’s so glad she’d set her alarm clock fifteen minutes early like she always does because she knows nine times out of ten, she’ll let Liam get his way. It's their morning routine.

 But she can’t help it. Her boyfriend is so irresistible. The way he flips her over, sending Emma to her back, the way he pounds into her so rough and hard like he can never get enough of her. The way he kisses her so deeply and passionately, making her head spin. The expression on his face as her walls grip his cock, the way he groans, setting her skin ablaze. And the way he’s kissing her after it’s over, both of them breathless. When he pulls out, the way he kisses every inch of her on his way to her satisfied core, his cum dripping from her entrance as she combs her fingers through his curly brown hair. The way he laps up both of their orgasms from her cunt until her walls are fluttering around his tongue. She can’t help but give in to all of it.

 Emma’s fingers clench around his hair as she screams through another incredible orgasm. “Fuck… Liam!” 

 And once she's able to reassemble herself and jump out of bed before he can talk her into cuddling or going for another round, she immediately hates having to leave him. But now she must.

 Emma throws on some clothes, making sure she’s dressed appropriately in case she runs into her other roommate as she heads to the bathroom. The big, blissful smile plastered on her face instantly vanishes, though, her nose scrunching in disapproval when she steps on something and looks down, spotting a red, lacey thong on the floor outside Killian’s bedroom. A thong that is not her own. 

 What the actual fuck? 

 She grimaces and kicks the fabric aside like it’s contaminated with a deadly virus. She’s not surprised though. Disgusted, yes, but not surprised. Killian is always bringing a different woman home with him, and she and Liam always have to hear the noises coming from his bedroom. Therefore, they never feel bad when they’re going at it in their bedroom, and don’t even bother being quiet. 

 Sometimes she thinks the two brothers are engaging in some sort of weird contest, trying to see who can make the woman they’re with scream the loudest. She gathers it’s a pissing contest between the two brothers to see who’s the better bloke in the sack or to see who has the bigger cock. So Emma always makes sure she’s extra loud to let Killian know just how good his brother is in the sack. And so far, none of the women Killian’s brought to his bed have outmatched her. 

 Emma grins at the thought as she continues to the bathroom to relieve her bladder. She also thinks about how much things have changed since she came here to Storybrooke. She’d never meant to start a relationship with Liam, or anyone for that matter, when she’d ran into him outside his bar the night they’d met. They had exchanged phone numbers and he’d asked her out the next day, to which she’d reluctantly accepted. She was reluctant, not because she wasn't attracted to him—because God, she was—but because she still had a strong fortress surrounding her heart from when Neal had shattered it to pieces. But when she’d learned Liam too was cheated on by an ex, they had bonded over their heartaches, and she thought they could help each other heal. But they did so much more than that. 

 Emma fell for Liam and she fell hard. He’s much like a teddy bear, only soft on the inside, not the outside. He’s kind and loving and warm and best of all, he makes her laugh. When she’d discovered how good he was in bed on top of all his amazing qualities, she thought he was too good to be true. He seemed like the total package. He is the total package. But still, she’d kept waiting for the other shoe to drop; it never did, though. Or at least, it hasn’t dropped. yet.

 Once she's under the shower stream, she’s wetting her hair and singing the first song that comes to mind. Titanium by David Guetta. 

  “You shout it out, but I can’t hear a word you say. . .”

 After nine years, she still sings this damn song. But it’s so perfect for the shower because the lyrics are ones she can easily belt out, the words echoing beautifully off the bathroom walls.

 She’s been singing in the shower since she was eight years old. Her brother would always pound on the bathroom door when she was taking a shower, and yell for her to stop. It was like that when they lived in the same house growing up and it was like that after she moved in with him and Mary Margaret. She has to admit, she misses annoying the hell out of her brother. 

  Bang, bang, bang.

 “Would you stop your bloody awful singing?!" Killian shouts through the door. “Some people are actually trying to sleep around here!”

 Now that she lives with Liam, she has his pain in the ass brother to annoy. As fun as that is, it’s not really the same.

 Emma doesn’t stop though. Instead, she grins to herself and lathers shampoo into her hair, closing her eyes as she makes sure to sing even louder and more obnoxious.

  “You criticize, but all your bullets ricochet. Shoot me down, but I get up. . .”

 Ever since she moved in with her boyfriend eight months ago, Killian has been a pesky thorn in her side. He’s been nothing but a nuisance. From leaving his dirty dishes in the sink to sleeping with a different woman almost every night to pissing her off every chance he gets. He’s always trying to bring her down, always finding new ways to push her buttons. She’s not sure exactly why it all started. Maybe because he’s held a grudge against her since she chose his brother over him. Or maybe because he thinks she’s trying to steal his brother away from him. But either way, she’s not giving him the satisfaction of letting him get to her. Or at least letting him know he gets to her. 

 Emma starts shouting out the lyrics, each word louder than the previous one, purposely trying to get a rise out of him, just like he always does to her. 

 “Shoot me down, but I won’t fall! I am Tit-aaaaan-iiiiiiiuuuuuum! Shoot me down, but I won’t—”

 The whine of the faucet interrupts her, and suddenly she's shivering, no longer feeling the hot water spraying her skin. What the fuck? One second she's rinsing her hair and the next, the bathroom door is slamming shut and she’s just standing there in the bathtub with shampoo dripping down her face and no water to rinse it out with. 

 That damn bastard turned off the shower!

 “What the hell?!” she screeches, her words garbled when the shampoo drips into her mouth. She spits it out and spins around, blindly reaching for the towel on the rack, yanking it off the bar and wiping her face with it. “You asshole!”

 She steps out of the tub, blood bubbling under her skin as she wraps the towel around her body. Okay, pounding on the bathroom door is one thing, but shutting off the water while she’s taking a shower is a whole different level of asshole for Killian Jones! And she won’t stand for it. She’s not letting him get away with this.  

 She marches out of the bathroom and down the hall, leaving a dripping wet trail of soapy water behind her. But she doesn’t give a fuck at the moment. She rips his door open and storms into his room without any sort of grace. She hurries over to his alarm clock, which he leaves on his dresser across the room so he'll have to get up to turn it off. He does it so he won’t be tempted to hit the snooze button and fall back asleep. 

 Killian’s in his bed with the covers over his head as Emma turns on the music and cranks up the volume. She immediately spins around and scurries out of his room, her heart hammering in her chest, but when she makes it to the doorway, she can feel his hand gripping her arm as he turns her around and presses her firmly against the wall, just outside his door.  

 She loses her breath.

 He doesn’t say anything at all; he just stares at her, a mixture of emotions written all over his face. She can’t tell if he’s pissed or irritated, or if the look on his face is just pure hatred for her. Or if it’s something else entirely.

 Emma loses a breath when he closes the gap between them until their bodies are pressed together, his face inches from hers. He still doesn’t murmur a word, just stares at her. 

 She gulps when his eyes flicker over her face, and it almost seems like he’s going to. . .

 No, no, no, that can’t be. She knows for a fact she’s just imagining things, because Killian would never try to kiss her. Not only because his brother is dating her, but because he hates her with every fiber of his being; he’s never said it out loud, but she knows deep down he does.

 Killian’s still staring at her and she’s so stunned in her spot, she can’t even move. As his eyes move to her lips, she swears she stops breathing, her heart pounding in her ear. He hasn’t looked at her with anything apart from hatred since the night they met.

 He quickly amends his stare, his eyes snapping to hers, regret clouding his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispers huskily and releases her, dashing to his room and slamming the door behind him. 

  What the hell was that?

 He may have been able to move, but she feels like she’s superglued to the wall. She can still feel his palms on her wrists like he’s still pinning her, but he’s not.

 “What the bloody hell was all that racket?” 

 The sound of Liam’s voice makes her heart jump into her throat, and she has to peel herself from the wall. When she does, she feels a million times lighter. She blows out a long breath. A breath she feels like she’s been holding this whole time. She turns to Liam and gets on her tiptoes as she wraps her arms around the back of his neck, kissing him chastely on the lips. “Nothing, babe, it was just your annoying brother hollering at me for singing again and telling me how awful of a singer I am.” 

 “Don’t listen to him. You sing beautifully,” Liam assures her sweetly, kissing the tip of her nose. “I love your singing.”

 Emma smiles at his compliments, but her face twists at the memories of Killian turning off the water on her. “I never do listen to him, but that asshole shut off the shower on me while I was in there. And I had shampoo in my hair and it got in my eyes and mouth.”

 She can see the anger spiraling through her boyfriend, his features appalled. “He did what?!” Liam lunges toward Killian’s door, but Emma moves in front of him and places her hands on his chest to stop him. 

 “It’s fine. I got him back.” She smirks. “I turned on his music and cranked up the volume. 

 “I know, I could hear everything,” he grumbles, his eyes focused on Killian’s door. Emma’s still standing in front of him so he won’t go charging in there, but he manages to pound on the door. “What the fuck, Killian?! You don’t go into the bathroom while Emma’s using it! She lives here, too, you wanker!”

 “I already told her I was sorry!” he calls through the door.

 Emma furrows her brows. She thought Killian had said he was sorry for pinning her against the wall and almost kissing her. Or at least, that’s what it seemed like.

 “Sorry, love,” Liam murmurs, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead. “My brother’s a pompous arse sometimes.”

 She can’t disagree with that. This is far from the first time Killian’s been a jerk to her and it won’t be the last. She wishes she and Liam could get a place of their own. What she wouldn’t give to be able to get up in the morning and prance around the apartment half-naked, or even naked if she so chose to be, not having to worry about annoying roommates who only stir up trouble and tell her she’s an awful singer. She knows her boyfriend wants to be close to his brother, but still, how does Liam not get sick of Killian’s shit?

 “It’s fine,” she assures him, looking up into his warm blue eyes. “I just can’t wait until we get a place of our own. Just you and me.” 

 A serene smile stretches over Liam’s lips as he gazes into her eyes and caresses her cheek. “I can’t wait either, baby.” He turns her toward the wall, pressing her back against it, much like Killian had done a few moments ago. Emma moans when she feels Liam’s thickness digging into her thigh. “Then I would get to fuck you whenever I wanted without worrying about my little brother pounding on the wall, telling us to stop.” He lifts her up and she instinctively wraps her legs around his waist as he buries his face in the crook of her neck and gives her a few gentle thrusts. Emma tilts her head back and moans, loving the way his cock feels pressed against her center. He’s wearing boxers, but she can still feel every inch of him.

 “That would be amazing,” she murmurs breathlessly as he leaves a trail of kisses down her neck. 

 “But it might not be such a good idea because then I would never want to leave. I’d want to stay home and make love to you all day.”

 Emma laughs as his words vibrate against her skin. “You’re insatiable.”

 “Can’t help it, love. You’re so bloody gorgeous and perfect. And when you have something rare and precious, you hold onto it and never let it go.”

 Emma’s heart warms, a blissful smile curving her lips. Liam’s sweet lines, no matter how cheesy or sappy, are just some of the reasons why she fell in love with him. He always knows what to say to make her feel special. Emma fists her hands in his hair and pulls his face to hers, capturing his lips for a heated kiss.

 Killian’s bedroom door opens, and he barges through the hallway, bursting their cozy, quiet bubble. “I can’t wait for you two to get your own place either. Then I won’t have to hear you two fucking every goddamn second of the day,” he grumbles as he marches down the hall.

 “Oh, like we’ve never heard you fucking one of your many conquests!” Emma hollers after him.

 “Whatever, I’m taking a shower. I’m late for work and you’re taking too damn long.” 

 Emma’s eyes widen when he disappears into the bathroom, and she releases herself from Liam’s hold and follows Killian, but before she can stop him, he slams the door in her face.

 She’s seeing red as she wiggles the knob and is even more pissed when it’s locked. “You asshole! I have to rinse the shampoo out of my hair since you shut off my shower before I could!”

 He answers by turning on his heavy metal music.

 Emma lets out a frustrated scream and pounds on the door. So much for being at work on time today.

 She’s fucking pissed and about to kick the door, but Liam’s warm arms instantly put her at ease. 

 “Come on, baby, don’t let him get under your skin. Let me make you breakfast while you wait for the shower.”

 Emma relents and goes to her room to grab her bathrobe. She rinses her hair off in the kitchen sink as Liam starts the coffee.

 ~*~

 Killian’s still cursing to himself when Emma’s in the shower for the second time that morning. He tugs on his shirt, hating himself for what he’d done earlier in the hallway. He never should’ve pinned her against the wall and almost kissed the bloody hell out of her, but he’d reacted before he could control himself. 

 When he had pressed her into the wall, she was standing there, dripping wet in nothing but a towel. He can still see the wet spots on the carpet where her hair had dripped to the floor—in his bedroom when she marched in here to turn on his music and outside his door. He’d damn near drooled when he gazed upon the soft swell of her slick breasts, and couldn’t help but notice her pebbled nipples underneath the thin cotton. He could feel her taut nipples against his chest when he pressed himself into her. She was so fucking sexy, and he wanted to pick her up and carry her to his room and have his way with her. Or seeing that she was naked underneath the towel, he wanted to lift her up and just take her there against the wall. It would have been so easy to slide inside of her and just fuck her senseless. Neither of those scenarios was an option, obviously.

 Killian sits on the edge of his bed, sighing into his hands. As much as he pretends to and wishes he actually hated her, he’s unfortunately in love with her. After he found her in his kitchen wearing Liam’s shirt a year ago, he did everything he could to forget about her. He's tried sleeping with other women, he still tries that method, but it never bloody works. It only makes him wish those women were Emma. It makes him want her more. It makes him feel more lonely than he already is.

 Maybe he would've been able to forget about her if she hadn't kept showing up here. And it was bad enough when she and Liam had their sleepovers all the time, but then she moved in eight months ago because she was sick of living with her brother, and Liam was sick of not waking up next to Emma every morning. 

 Killian hates living here with Liam and Emma. He hates having to hear them fuck in the bedroom next to his; he hates having to hear them speak to each other like they’re so fucking in love. It makes him sick. 

 He hates having to witness every milestone in their relationship. He had to listen every time Liam went on about how he was falling for Emma and how she was his soulmate. He had to hear about it when Liam told him he had finally professed his love for her; he had to hear about it when Liam said he could no longer stand living without her, and how he wanted to ask her to move in with him. Liam sought Killian's approval, which he reluctantly gave, and had to hear about Emma’s reaction and how excited she was when she said yes.

 Killian’s had to listen to every conversation Liam and Emma have had when they’re all home at the same time, he’s had to watch them feed each other, he’s had to witness one of them going into the kitchen, grabbing a can of Reddi Whip and heading back to their room countless times. For the past year, he’s had a front-row seat to Liam’s and Emma’s relationship, and he’s hated every fucking second of it.

 In the beginning, Killian had hoped their relationship would be temporary. Emma had been cheated on, too, just like Liam, so they had that in common and it was something they bonded over in the beginning. Killian thought they both just needed to cleanse themselves from their cheating exes, and that they were using each other to do that, but nope. What they had in the beginning went beyond helping each other heal. And Killian can’t blame his brother for wanting something more with Emma. She’s the whole fucking package and Killian knows this just as well as Liam does. It’s the reason why Killian hasn’t been able to tame his feelings for her, even though he knows she’s completely off-limits. 

 He’s happy for Liam, he really is. He’s glad Liam found someone as amazing as Emma. He’s glad Liam is happy. He just wishes he’d never met her at the bar that night. He wishes he’d never set his sights on her so that maybe then he wouldn’t be pining for his brother’s girlfriend. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so head over heels for her. But then again, maybe he would still feel the same way about her, no matter how or when he met her.

 Maybe it’s his fault though. He knows his feelings for her would be so much easier to deal with if he didn’t live with her.

 There have been so many times he told himself he was finding another place to live, but at the end of the day, he talked himself out of it because why should he leave? This was his apartment long before Liam even met Emma. Hell, this was Killian’s apartment before Liam moved in with him. 

 Killian moved here after he graduated from high school and his first roommate wouldn’t leave after not paying his share of the rent for six months. Killian could have gone to court, filled out the paperwork and served him with an eviction notice, which would’ve given his roommate a month to move out. But Killian had another idea in mind that would speed up the process, and all he had to do was beg Liam to go along with it. He got the idea from watching an episode of Friends. The One Where Eddie Won't Go. Chandler couldn’t get his annoying, nut job of a roommate to leave, so when Eddie returns to the apartment the next day, the lock on the door has been changed, Chandler and Joey pretend they don’t know Eddie and they act as though Joey never left. 

 So Killian had something similar in mind. Liam showed up at his apartment and went into the roommate’s bedroom. Together, they gathered his things and started moving them to the front lawn. When the roommate returned later that day, the locks had been changed and Killian opened the door after he heard the incessant pounding and pretended he didn’t remember having another roommate besides his brother. When the guy refused to leave, Liam stood at the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and his intimidating height and size compared to the scrawny, short lad who stood in the hallway, finally left with his tail between his legs. 

 When Liam went back to his and his girlfriend’s flat that night, he walked in on her while she was banging some other guy in the bed they shared. Not wanting to be reminded of what he’d witnessed when he slept in his bed every night, he’s the one who left and never came back. Liam and Killian have lived together in this flat ever since then. And they never heard from Killian’s old roommate ever again.

 So, why should Killian be the one to leave? 

 Then again, if he stays, his feelings for Emma might become even more difficult to shake off. 

 Right, like he could shake them off. If he could, then he would’ve done that long ago.

 ~*~

 ��Killian, can I talk to you for a moment?” Liam asks the next day when he steps into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. It’s Saturday, so neither of them is working, and Emma is out shopping with her sister-in-law.

 Killian’s carrying a mug of freshly brewed coffee as he leaves the kitchen, catching the serious expression on his brother's face and in his tone. He's a bit nervous if he’s being honest, certain Liam’s going to chew him out for shutting off Emma’s shower yesterday. Killian was out the door before Liam could say anything to his face about it. He supposes he deserves the lecture, though; he was kind of an arsehole to her. Okay, he was a huge arsehole. But she was being so loud. And yes, she has the voice of an angel, but it doesn't give her the right to wake up the entire apartment building. Prepared for an arse chewing, Killian raises his free hand in surrender. “I promise I didn’t see anything. I was only trying to get her to stop singing—”

 Liam shakes his head before Killian can finish, and drags a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. “That’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

 “Oh. Okay, what is it then?” Killian asks, noticing how nervous Liam appears to be.

 Liam motions to the living room, so they both head to the sofa and take a seat. He draws in a shaky breath and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a velvet box.

 Killian’s eyes widen in horror as he stares at the object. 

  No, please tell me that’s not what I think it is. Please, Liam. Don’t make it so.

 Killian gulps thickly, unable to remove his eyes from the box. He’s never prayed for anything in his entire twenty-three years of living on this earth, but right now he’s praying that whatever’s in that box is not a diamond ring.

 But judging by the smile cracking Liam’s lips, he already knows the words on his tongue before he speaks them. “I’m asking Emma to be my wife.”

  Heart meet dagger.

 Killian feels like the wind has just been knocked out of him, all of the air in the room suddenly gone.

 Liam cracks open the box, showing Killian the ring. It’s a princess cut diamond with a white-gold band. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

 Liam’s waiting for some sort of approval, but all Killian can do is stare at the ring and feel a stab of jealousy. He knows he should be happy and supportive, but he still can’t help but want Emma to be his and not his brother’s. He knows Liam deserves a woman like Emma, though, and she deserves someone like Liam. He’s a good man, and if Killian were forced to pick someone besides himself, he’d pick Liam every time. And if he had to pick someone for Liam, there's no doubt he’d pick her. But that doesn’t make this any less easy.

 Killian clears the frog from his throat. “It’s stunning,” he says with a smile, trying to keep his tone even. “It’s stunning, just like Emma.”

 “That’s exactly what I think too, little brother.” He blows out a wobbly breath. “I’m so bloody nervous about asking her to marry me. We’ve only been together for a year. Well, almost a year, but I know she’s the one for me, Killian. I know it deep in my bones. I’ve known since the night I met her.”

 Killian wants to say he knows the feeling. 

 How is it even possible he and Liam felt the exact same way about the exact same woman that exact same night? 

 She made her choice though, regardless of the chemistry between her and Killian.

 He also knows how Liam feels because, apart from that first week he and Emma were together, he hasn’t exactly kept Killian out of the loop. So Killian’s known every goddamn step of the way how Liam has felt about her. “How will you ask her?”

 “Well . . .” Liam runs his hand through his hair nervously and stares off into space, as though he’s playing the scenario in his head. “For our one-year anniversary, I want to have a picnic on the lake where we went on our first date. Which reminds me . . .” Liam looks at Killian, appearing a bit skittish about something, “I wanted to ask you if I can borrow your motorcycle.”

 Killian furrows his brows. “But you hate my bike. When I first got it, you kept telling me how dangerous it was, and when I taught you how to ride it, you said you never wanted to be on it again.”

 “I know… but I want this proposal to be special, and I always catch Emma staring at your bike whenever we’re getting into my car.”

 “You do?”

 “Aye. And she’s mentioned she’s never ridden a motorcycle before, so I wanted her to have that experience. I want to do something with her she might enjoy before I pop the big question, you know? So she doesn’t think I’ll be one of those vanilla husbands who doesn’t know how to have fun.”

 Killian’s heart clenches. How many times has he dreamt about taking Emma for a ride on his motorcycle? How many times has he dreamt of having her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight as they rode his bike? 

 “Then after we eat and have some wine, we’ll walk along the beach, and when the moment feels right, I’ll get down on one knee.”

 Killian swallows hard. The scenario Liam is painting sounds absolutely perfect, and he knows Emma will love it. He knows Emma’s not a grand gesture type of lass, and what Liam has planned is the perfect combination of grand and simple. 

 “So, what do you say, can I use it?” 

 When Killian witnesses the spark in Liam’s eyes, he can’t help but say, “Of course. You can use it for as long as you’d like.”

 “Thank you, Killian,” he says appreciatively, clasping his hands together as he leans forward and perches his elbows on his knees. “I also have another favor to ask of you.”

 Killian quirks a brow as he sets his mug on the coffee table. “I’m afraid to ask.” He laughs, but he actually is afraid to ask.

 Liam chuckles. “Relax, I only wanted to ask if you’d be my best man. You’re not only my brother . . .” his face grows serious as he looks Killian dead in the eyes, “you’re my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine anyone else standing up there beside me as I marry the woman of my dreams. I imagine it’ll take a while to plan the wedding, and the earliest it would be is next year, but—” 

 “I’d be honored,” Killian cuts him off, swallowing hard. It feels like Liam just drove the dagger deeper into his chest. 

 As honored as he is for Liam to ask him to be his best man, he can’t stand at the altar and watch the woman of his dreams marry his brother. He just can’t. But he can’t possibly tell Liam that. 

 A big grin overtakes Liam’s face as he pulls Killian in for a big hug. 

 “I’m happy for you,” Killian expresses hoarsely, trying to ignore how crushed he feels. “You deserve it, brother,” he says genuinely. 

 “Thank you, Killian. That means a lot,” Liam says as they break the hug. “Now just hope I can grow some balls to get down on one knee, and pray she says yes.” 

 “She’ll say yes, I know she will, Liam,” he says sincerely, patting his brother on the shoulder. He knows deep down Liam and Emma are perfect for each other, no matter how much he wants to deny it.

 “You really think so?” Liam is asking hopefully. 

 And right now, Killian can’t help but smile. If Liam were proposing to any other woman, Killian would be so bloody happy for him. So he shoves away the fact that it’s Emma they’re talking about so he can just be there for his brother like Liam needs him to be. “Aye. There is no one more perfect for you than her.”

 Liam grins from ear to ear. “At least we can agree on one thing,” he chuckles. “I love her so bloody much.” His face suddenly clouds with something Killian can’t quite put his finger on, and once again, Liam appears to be nervous. “That brings me to the final thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

 “Okay,” Killian gulps. He has a bad feeling about what the next thing might be, though it can’t possibly be worse than telling him he’s proposing to the same woman Killian’s completely in love with or asking Killian to stand beside Liam as he watches Emma marry someone else.

 “I need you to be nice to Emma,” he says in a condemning tone. “She thinks you hate her.”

 Guilt clenches Killian’s heart, and as much as he knows he should be nice to the woman who will be Liam’s future wife, he knows agreeing to be nice to Emma is like agreeing to jump into quicksand.

 For the past year, Killian’s had to pretend to hate Emma because he knows if he and Emma end up becoming friends, then he’ll be tempted to act on his feelings for her, and he can’t let that happen. He can’t do that to Liam. So, there’s only one other option.

 Killian has to move out, and he needs to move out soon. Until that happens, he has to throw on a smile and pretend everything is hunky-dory. “I don’t hate her,” he manages, trying to shove all of his emotions down his throat. 

 “Good, then act like it. If she says yes when I propose, she’ll be your sister-in-law soon, so get used to that idea.”

 Killian tears his gaze from Liam, unable to look at his brother right now. He feels like his ears are bleeding. Like his heart is bleeding. Liam has no idea how much his words just gutted him. He could never get used to being Emma’s . . .

 No, he can’t even think about the idea. He could never consider Emma as his sister-in-law, and there’s no way he could ever be a brother figure to her. There’s just no bloody way. He’s wanked off while thinking about her for crying out fucking loud.

 “You don’t have to worry, I promise I’ll be nicer to Emma.” Even as Killian makes the promise, he can feel himself being pulled in by the quicksand.

 “Thank you, Killian.”

 When they stand, Killian tells him he’s going to the gym. He needs to relieve some of the pain bubbling inside his chest and figure out how the bloody hell he’s going to win this internal battle inside him, or if he ever will. He should have seen this coming though. He knows Liam has been serious about Emma from the beginning.

 He changes into his gym clothes, and once the cool breeze hits his face, once Liam is no longer near him, he can finally breathe, but even then, the surrounding air feels paper-thin. He’s barely able to suck in enough oxygen to make his heart not feel so heavy.

 He puts on his helmet and hops on his bike, driving out of the parking lot and trying to figure out how the bloody hell to get out of this predicament.

 As much as he loves Liam, he can’t fucking do this. Any of it. He can’t be Liam’s best man, he can’t give a best man speech and tell everyone how bloody happy he is for the bride and groom while he’ll actually be dying inside. He can’t live with them for one more bloody second, and he sure as hell can’t be her brother-in-law.

 Which leaves Killian with only one choice.

 He needs to get out of Storybrooke. And he needs to get out soon.

  Tagging people who have shown interest. Let me know if you would like to be added or if I missed you. @itsfabianadocarmo @resident-of-storybrooke @snowbellewells @onceuponaprincessworld @viajandosinalas @teamhook @captainswan-shipper88 @jamif​ @katielovesstarcrossedlovers @uhthreeyuh @lfh1226-linda @babyyouremyqueen @sthonour @julesep3026 @fairytalewhispersinmyheart @andiirivera @wefoundloveunderthelight @wickedsw4n @eleveneitherway @eherron14 @ouatpost @transparentclodsludgeweasel @stahlop​

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

For your Valentine's day post. If you could 1 and 17 as an imagine for Fred Weasley. Please and thank you. 💚

1. “I want to smack you as much as I want to kiss you.”

17. “Will you marry me?”

 •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You pulled the cardigan you wore closer to your body, feeling the February breeze against your face as soon as you apparated outside the Weasley house. You were supposed to have dinner with the family and it just happened to land on Valentine’s Day. You smiled to yourself as you brought your hand up to the door, knocking hard for the people inside to hear over the ruckus. As soon as you were finished knocking you could hear Fred’s voice, shouting that he had the door and moments later, and a few thuds from inside that was no doubt Fred tripping on things, the door opened.

“Well hello there.” He spoke in a low voice, trying his best to sound sexy as you giggled.

“Hello handsome.” You stepped forward to give him a kiss as he smiled into it, wrapping his arms around you. He led you into the house, his arm still around your waist as you caught up with the rest of the family, giving Molly and Arthur a hug and a kiss on the cheek before everyone was gathered in the living room. Harry and Hermione were also there along with the rest of family. Seats where scarce as Fred sat in the big armchair, pulling you down into his lap. You squealed when his arms gripped your waist but ultimately laughed when you moved to drape your legs over the side.

“Y/N, its been too long dear! What have you been doing out there?” Molly asked when she saw you lay a head on your boyfriend’s shoulder, effectively cuddling into Fred’s side. Fred pulled you closer into his body as you spoke to Molly, telling her about your week in the ministry. He loved listening to you talk, well he loved you, and hearing your stories, even though he’s heard the exact same stories last night when you had your own dinner with him. When the conversation moved on you began to play with Fred’s fingers, locking them with yours. You glanced up at Fred, seeing him listening in on Ron and George’s conversation, nodding his head when you smirked. You moved your head to nestle into his neck, pressing soft kisses against his skin. You could feel his breath hitching as your nose landed on a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.

“Stop it.” He mumbled, knowing his voice isn’t as commanding as he wanted.

“Uh, I don’t think so.” You whispered, peppering his jaw line. You could feel Fred’s grip on your waist tighten slightly. “What’s wrong Freddie?” you asked innocently. Fred knew you were just trying to get at him. 7 years of dating and you knew every little trigger Fred had. But he also knew yours.

Not a second after you reached the patch of his neck under his ear did Fred’s fingers tickled your sides, digging into your sides as you jumped into the air, squealing as Fred barked out a laugh behind you. He pulled you back, despite your objections.

“Oh, come on darling, you started it!” he laughed as you finally sat on his lap but not looking at him, your arms crossed in front of your chest. He knew you weren’t really mad at him as he hugged you from behind, his entire family now watching the two of you. “Y/N? I’m sorry!” he cooed into your ear, making you squirm from the tickle of his breath.

“I want to smack you as much as I want to kiss you.” You grumbled when Fred uncrossed your arms, holding your hands in his.

“Well, I’d appreciate the latter.” He joked as you sighed, feeling your lips upturn into a smile. You spun around in his lap, pressing your lips to his. You could feel Fred’s cocky grin against yours as the men around you groaned, pretending to be disgusted while the women awed. You felt your cheeks heat up as you covered your face with Fred’s shirt, laughing quietly. Fred’s heart swooned at the sight of you using him for comfort, 7 years and you still managed to steal his heart every day.

George caught his brother eye, seeing the glint behind them as he remembered their main conversation from the past few weeks, and that shiny ring sitting on the desk in their room.

“Dinner’s ready!” Ginny called out from the kitchen as you stood up, grabbing Fred’s hand to pull him up. He just stayed up, staring up at you with those beautiful eyes.

“You go, I’ll be right there.” He kissed your hand before you let go, following Hermione into the kitchen. Fred waited until everyone was gone before making his way up the stairs, skipping a few steps in his hurry to reach his room. He pulled back his door, seeing the ring box sitting there. Picking up the box, he turned to see George leaning in the doorway.

“Finally gonna do it?”

Fred sighed, a slight laugh coming out as well. “Figured it wasted enough time not on her finger.” He paused, his grip tightening as he stared at the box. “Think she’ll say yes?” He asked honestly, suddenly feeling as if this wasn’t the best idea.

“She loves you right?” Fred nodded as George clapped him on the back. “She’ll say yes Freddie. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Dinner was amazing as usual. Fred came back with George a few minutes after you started eating, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head before sitting next to you.

You got along with Fred’s family as if they were yours, and truth was they practically were. When meal time wrapped up and dessert was being cleaned up, you and Fred sat at the table close together, his arm wrapped behind your back as you leaned into his side, falling asleep as your head rested on his shoulder.

Fred was fiddling with the ring box in his pocket as you groaned, shifting a little against him.

“Y/N?” He whispered, his voice a low sotto as you shifted, humming a little. “Y/N, wake up.” He told you as you yawned yet still kept your eyes closed. He chuckled, shaking his head with a grin before realizing he didn’t know how he was going to propose. And yet with one look at you he knew he didn’t care how, he just wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

He pulled out the box, quietly opening it as he took a deep breath.

“Will you marry me?” He spoke out without thinking.

That woke you up.

Your eyes shot open as you sat up, turning to Fred completely. He wore a nervous look in his eyes as you stared into them.

“Are you serious?” You blurted out. Fred nodded, glancing towards the ring in his hand. You followed his eyes, gasping rather loud as you saw it.

It was a simple ring, one that Fred had saved up to buy after your 2 year anniversary, knowing that at some point he would be in this exact predicament.

He pushed his chair out, gently falling to one knee as your eyes started to become blurry. “This wasn’t how I imagined this moment Y/N. But one thing I did imagine was staring into those Y/E/C eyes of yours and telling you I loved you.” He grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb across your skin as you wiped away some of your tears.

“I’m not still sleeping am I? This is happening?” You asked genuinely making Fred grin up at you.

“This is happening. I love you Y/N. Will you marry me?”

The rest of the family sat in the other, talking amongst themselves before they heard you screaming a yes, a few different squeals coming from the living room as everyone stopped, listening in on the couple of you.

“What the bloody hell is going on in there?!” Ron shouted as George sat back on the couch, patting his youngest brother on the back.

“That, Ronnikins, can mean only one thing. Our dear brother just got engaged.” Everyone looked at him as if he grew another head. He just smirked, listening to the happy sounds of Fred and your laughs coming from the kitchen.

A/N: Freddie! ❤️ I’ve tried to post this a million times, god help me... tell me what you think please! 😊

*Not My Gif*

Post Date: 2-19-20

~Master List~

~Harry Potter Master~

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @saturn-aka-six @nathaliabakes @whyamihere-bro @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @wellhellotherelovey @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash @emcchi @rauwz @herondalescecilys

Harry Potter: @accio-rogers @songforhema @hahaboop @paigeyisme @missmulti @daddyloonglegss

Fred: @spideyboipete @themusingsofmany

Twins: @seppys-return-to-madness @siriuslysirius1107

[connordavidscamera]

Falling in Love | Connor Brashier

A/n: this is a repost from my Shawn account!! This is my piece and is not stolen.

Summary: you just can’t believe how in love you are with your fiancé.

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 1.8k

***

Staring at my fiancé from across the room, I still can’t help but think I’m dreaming. Never in a million years did I think I would be able to keep this man interested long enough for him to even want to marry me. But here we are a month into our engagement, at our party with all our friends and family, and I still think I should wake up any second now.

I knew I was a goner the first time he kissed me - when the whole world stopped existing until we pulled away for the much needed oxygen to find its way back to our lungs. It was almost too perfect, the way his lips curved against mine, the way his hands cradled my face like that was its rightful place - since that day, it has been. I’d never understood what people meant when they said sparks flew when they kissed someone. But I understood that day.

Our relationship was never rushed. We took everything slow and steady (even though people had their opinions about how long it took us to go public on his insta, or how long it took for us to say I love you. Except, hi, that’s no one’s goddamn business, but go off, I guess.) And I’ll admit, it did take longer than expected for either of us to say those three words to each other - eight months, actually. But you could feel the love in the relationship even without them. It was in the way he always picked up the phone when I called, no matter the timezone. It showed when he would come back from tour and he’d come to my apartment just to fall asleep on my chest because my heart beat lulled him to sleep. And how his hands always found their way to lock with mine whether we’re walking to the car, or dancing in a crowded club, or eating dinner and we’re sitting on opposite ends of the table, so he reaches over and it’s like that cutesy couple thing you see in all the movies. We didn’t need the words to feel them.

And just looking at him and his nonchalant attitude, no one would think that he had a romantic side. And they definitely wouldn’t guess that for our first six dates, before he finally asked me to be his girlfriend, he sent me flowers the next day. And then when we started actually dating, little love notes would just pop up everywhere. Like when he slept over and would wake up before me, I’d find a sticky note on my bathroom mirror that would say something like “Your smile is the best part of my day.” And there have been a few instances where I wasn’t feeling my greatest and he just showed up hours later - seeing as these moments only seemed to happen when he was off on tour - and he’d cuddle me on the couch while we watched shitty rom-coms until I felt better. And it may not be a big deal to anyone else, but when he talks to me, or listens to me talk, his eyes are always trained on me, and I think it’s kinda cute.

And he’s the most caring person. Not just with me, either. He looks after his own. His brother got in a fight one time and Connor was there instantly to patch up his wounds and give him a place to stay so he wouldn’t have to face their mom. Another time Alessia fell coming off the stage and he sprinted to get her ice for her swollen ankle. He made sure to check on her every thirty minutes or so, even though he was working and couldn’t do much for her then. And he is always, always there when I’m sick to my stomach, or sick of life. He’s there drawing hearts and smiley faces over the problem area with his finger, whether it be my stomach, or back, or my mind. He takes care of his own and that to me says everything about our future.

And this boy, Jesus Christ, he is so creative. I’ve never known anyone whose mind works like his. He can see a plain brick wall and immediately his brain clicks and it’s suddenly turned into an aesthetic Shawn’s next shoot. And he doesn’t just focus on faces, he goes and he gets the beads of sweat on Shawn’s hairline, and the rings on his fingers. And he edits his videos in such a way that you can’t possibly watch it only once and feel like you’ve seen everything. It’s fast paced and beautiful and I could watch him edit for hours on end and never get bored. The way he layers photos on top of videos and how he knows just  the right time to make the music swell in a scene. He’s talented and I hope he knows I think so.

He’s so random too. I never know what to expect with him. We can lay in bed while he’s stroking my hair, pulling me to sleep when he asks, “What if cows screamed when you milked them?” Or, “You know, Popeye ate a lot of spinach, but I don’t think that’s the real reason he was so strong. He had to be taking steroids.” One time he came into the room at 3 in the morning, woke me up and asked, “When you were a kid, did you have those suction cup ball things that you would throw at a wall or a window and they’d just stay there?”

“Connor, I’m trying to sleep.”

“I know, but this is important.”

“Why?”

“Because I just bought a dozen of those and a dozen of those sticky slappy hand things.”

And he’s spontaneous (not just in the things he buys off Amazon at 3 AM). There have been many occasions where he has called me up and told me to pack an overnight bag because he wanted to go to the beach or Disney or because he found this bookshop in Nevada that he thinks I’ll enjoy. And then of course there are the more “extravagant” trips he likes to take at random points in the year. We spent last Christmas in the Bahamas because he wanted to wear shorts on Christmas day and he couldn’t do that if we were going to a family Christmas party apparently. Another time we flew to New York because I said I was craving something from this one restaurant we went to last time we were there. He doesn’t wait a second. If I mention wanting something, we’re gone in hours, or it’s already ordered and on it’s way. There is no way to fully know what his next move is gonna be and that keeps the relationship exciting.

And he sees things so vividly, remembering them in soft light, sometimes though in overexposure. He tells stories- AMAZING stories - through the lens of his camera. He puts everything into perspective in such a way that you can’t picture it any other way. You can’t see Shawn on stage and not immediately think of the thousands of girls and women crying because they’re in the same room as him and he’s there and he’s beautiful. And you can’t see him running to hug his fans without seeing the pure elation from the ones he touches. Connor gives you the pieces to make one whole and leaves nothing out, not even once. He never strays from the real story he’s telling, although he might go into a few others while doing so,he always finds his way back.

And despite his resting scowl, he’s not a fighter. He puts off this “I dont give a fuck” type of vibe, but he’s a softy. Until someone says something they shouldn’t. It’s only happened twice. When we were out with friends and I was getting us a couple waters from the bar. This man, who was way too close to me, tried to buy me a drink, his hand playing with the straps of my dress. I was uncomfortable, but I couldn’t find Connor in the crowded space and I had nowhere to escape to when he started getting even more touchy. And then I heard it, the unmistakable sound of skin hitting skin. “Come on, we’re going home.” He said roughly into my ear and he pulled me away, out of the club. Only for him to be Connor again, my Connor. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? God, I oughta kill him. Can I get you something?” I just shook my head and wrapped my arms around him. He let me. Of course he did.

The other time was early on in the relationship. We were hanging out with his brother and some of his friends from school. I don’t really know what happened, but one of Dylan’s friends said something about me. Connor told me later it had to do with him having me in his bed while he did awfully dirty things to me. Con went off on the younger boy, his face red with anger. He looked like he would blow steam out of his ears at any second. Dylan and I had to pull him out of the room, and let’s just say, he and I don’t go anywhere near that guy anymore.

“You’ve been staring at me for a while now, sweetheart.” Connor said, suddenly at my side, his voice low in my ear. “You’re giving me bedroom eyes. Can’t take care of you with all these people here.”

I hum, finding his fingers to lace mine through. “Hmm… that’s never stopped you before.”

“No,” he presses a gentle kiss to the side of my neck. “But we are kind of hosting this party. So it would be rude to just disappear for 20 minutes.”

“Who said it would take that long?” I giggle, connecting our lips in a quick peck.

He hums into my skin, “Later, kid. When I have you all to myself and we can be as loud as we need to be.”

I nod, biting my lip. “We could always kick them out early.”

“Patience, y/n. Want me to take care of you?”

I nod desperately. “Please.”

“Then you gotta be good for me. Because the guys are staring at us right now and neither of us will hear the end of it if I take you right now.”

I whine. “Okay… but I want everyone out in an hour.”

He kisses my lips one more time before pulling away from me. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I love you,” I say just loud enough for him to hear. 

“I love you, sweetheart.” He throws me a wink before disappearing in the sea of people that fill our home.

***

I hope you enjoyed (again)! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

[essaysbyciara]

Old Habits Die Hard| Part Two: Just Be Good To Me

 Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Dave East x Y/N Fic

SYNOPSIS | PART ONE: DAYS BEFORE

Warnings: Language, Lightweight mentions of sexual situations, brief marijuana use 

Y’all. I’m so overwhelmed by the love I’ve received for this story. Thank you to everyone who read, liked, commented and/or followed me on here. Taglist is STILL OPEN. *squees from joy*

JUST BE GOOD TO ME

Your finger traces the tattoos that dart up and down Dave’s back, the smoke from his blunt curling around his head as he leans back to inhale. The box fan on top of the dresser can only do so much as you push the sheets down to your knees so your torso can catch a quick cool down. You love watching the sweat trail down Dave’s spine. You try to catch each drop before they hit the mattress. 

“I forgot your bougie ass don’t smoke.” You crawl behind Dave, wrapping your supple legs around his waist. Your arms prop up your body so you can get a better look at him as he takes another pull. Dave instinctively starts to caress your left knee with his free hand. Your skin feels like cotton candy to him. You taste even sweeter. 

“You’re gonna stop calling me bougie...” You chuckle gently as you plant gentle kisses on Dave’s shoulder.  

“You know I like messing with you. Chill.” Dave lifts himself off of the bed. He still isn’t used to your love language. You pout as he walks up to his dresser to grab his phone. You try to weaken the feelings of dismissal but Dave catches your body language change in his mirror’s reflection as you lean over the bed to grab your clothes from off the floor. He realizes it was a mistake to walk away from you. 

“Yo. Come here.” You answer Dave’s command, lifting up the sheets to wrap them around your body like a towel. “Fuck the sheets. Come here.” A mischievous grin covers your face. Dave elicits confidence and freedom from you like never before. You walk over to him, hips swaying to the beat of the bass that’s blasting holes throughout the atmosphere outside. Before you can even get within an inch of him, Dave picks you up and sits you on top of the dresser. He kisses you so deep that your legs can’t help but to swing open like a broken screen door. The bass cranking from one of the cars outside sets the pace for your next round with Dave. 

“Fuck…” 

“My bad, Y/N. These potholes ain’t no joke up here.” Yahya’s not-so-smooth driving wakes you up from your slumber. You look down to witness the silent quivering  pulsate from between your legs. This isn’t the first time you’ve dreamed about Dave since you accepted his friend request a few days ago but the closer you were to getting back to Philly, the more intense they became. You grab Yahya’s hand to assuage your guilt. He smiles. Unlike Dave, he needs no help deciphering your love language. 

“It’s okay, babe. I needed to wake up. We’re super close to Aunt Jerri’s.” 

“Should I be scared about meeting your family? You made it seem like they’re gonna cut me if I don’t come correct.”

“Aye, they might.” You tease Yahya. Your left hand starts to caress his inner thigh. “They won’t mess with you. Aunt Jerri always got the family in line, I’m sure. She loves you already and she’s the biggest test to pass.” 

“Good. I really wanted to leave the lawyer that I am back home. Where should I park though?” 

You reorient yourself to the surroundings to direct Yahya to the back street behind Aunt Jerri’s house. You already see the smoke billowing from the barbeques on the street and hear the little ones’ laughs and screams. You also see all of your Dad’s brothers on the back porch playing spades and they’re already at peak shit-talking form.  “You know how to play spades, right?��� 

“Don’t let this Berkeley degree fool you, Y/N.” The vibrations from your phone break up your laughter. You open your phone to see an Instagram notification from Dave. You set up post notifications to track him, lying to yourself enough to believe it was to keep tabs on Dave so you wouldn’t run into him at the block party. Your heart knows the truth. He just posted a picture of him and his cousin Pardi posted on his porch. He and his boys are outside ready to play. 

“Is that my Y/N!” 

“Hey Uncle Ro!” Uncle Rodney -- or Ro --  was a barrel of a man who always wore his Sunday best even in the hottest of the weather. He was a preacher at an Pentecostal church who could drink the rest of the family up under the couch. He pulls you in for a hug. You try not to soak in the smells of sweat mixed with Christian Brothers emanating from his body. 

Yahya trails behind you with his hands inside of his pockets because of the growing fear quaking his bones. The spades game has suddenly stopped in its tracks and your other uncles -- Trace and Larry -- and Mr. Reed, who has always been like an uncle to you, start to ice grill Yahya down to his socks. Your Dad must have sent a bat signal from heaven for his brothers to stand tall on his behalf. 

“Y/N! Y/N!!!!!!! Heyyyyyyyyyyyy!” Aunt Jerri breaks up the detente at just the right time. She hugs you with so much force that your eyes almost pop out of their sockets. “And look who we have here, huh? You must be Mr. Yahya. He looks so much like T doesn’t he, Trace….” 

Trace doesn’t respond, still acting as a stand-in for your father. 

“Yahya, baby, don’t let them scare you. Bring your ass in the house.” Yahya feels relieved as Aunt Jerri drags him by the hand into her house to meet more of your family. You follow right behind. 

“Trace, you can relax. The dude bought bags of ice. He’s aight with me,” says your Uncle Larry. Trace doesn’t respond, instead throwing down a ten of spades that erupts the entire table. 

“Run up to the store right quick, Quaadir.” Dave passes a ten dollar bill to his nephew. 

“No, nigga.” Quaadir folds his arms and sticks out his lower lip like it’ll change Dave’s mind. Quaadir is not old enough to be on the corner but he’s talking like them.

“Yo, Pardi. Your son think he brolic. You hear him?! Nigga, what?” Pardi only looks at Quaadir and he quickly changes his mind. “He picking all this up from his moms, man.” The porch erupts in laughter. 

Dave needed this laugh. Especially after seeing your engagement pictures with Yahya. 

It wasn’t what he was expecting to see when he requested to follow you on Instagram. You looked happy and at peace. The paintings inside of the art gallery where you took your engagement photos looked to be showing their approval of your impending union. Dave couldn’t front: you two looked good together. 

You and Dave didn’t go on many dates during your two-week romance. There wasn’t enough time and the time you did have only found you mostly under Dave’s body. The only official date you two went on was when you took him to the Anthropology and Archaeology museum located on the University of Pennsylvania’s campus. He watched you grow in excitement at every exhibit, reading every placard and hanging to the museum docent’s every word. He saw your joy and felt honored to witness it. 

He felt the opposite of joy as he read one of the captions under your pictures. You called Yahya “your favorite discovery.” Your nickname for Dave was “favorite”. You were Dave’s favorite and he lost out on you and that hurt like hell. Nevertheless,  he couldn’t stop scrolling down your Instagram feed. He wanted to see pictures from last summer and of the body,  face, smile and the style of the woman who caused him to want to make an entire course correct on that thing called life. He saw that you still had it all. Asking Ariel was such a waste of time and being at this block party was triggering as all get out. 

People always talking ‘bout reputation… I don’t care about those other girls, just be good to me … ooooooo

“Just Be Good To Me” cascades down Reed Street in a way that you’ve never heard. You missed this place and this time during the summer when everything stops to allow the neighborhood to bask in delight. It was a feeling you desperately needed last year after you decided to ditch a week in the Bahamas and a week of recuperating at home to spend two weeks at Aunt Jerri’s house. Truth be told was that the Bahamas once had a man attached to it but that fell through. 

That’s what led you to go after Dave. 

“It’s hot at Hades out here, my Lord.” Aunt Jerri fans herself as she sits on her stoop overlooking the busy street full of barbeque grills, babies splashing inside of kiddie pools and a DJ blasting everyone’s favorite R&B of the 80s. 

“Rodney! Rodneyyyy! Boy, toss me a Lime-A-Rita. It’s lit cityyyyyyyy!”

“Mom! Who on Earth taught you about anything being “lit”?!” Ariel’s embarrassment grows at her mother’s attempts to be cool. 

“Oh, I’m hip! Too hip to be a square, eyyyy!” She sways ever so gently to “Square Biz” by Teena Marie. 

“Ari, leave her alone! Uncle Rodney, don’t indulge her please.” You sip on your Hennessy with ice because, unlike Aunt Jerri, you were free to indulge. Yahya holds you from behind, sipping the last of his Heineken in between fits of laughter. Your Uncle Trace passes another bottle to Yahya as a peace offering and as an official welcome to the family. Your Dad must’ve sent a message to Trace to stand down. Your yellow sundress with a thigh high split up to high heavens is cooling you off as the heat rises from off of the asphalt. 

“Y/N … you don’t tell Rodney what to do! I do! Let me be great!”

“You got it, Aunt Jerri!” Yahya kisses your right cheek and grips you tighter. He feels right at home and you’re so relieved that he’s here. 

“You know what I need someone to get? More paper plates. Run down to the store, Trace.”

“You got it, Sis.” 

Trace’s fashion sense was stuck in 1996; Ghostface Killah and Raekwon would be so proud. Trace was -- and still is --  feared, revered, loved and lusted over. He was the Dave of his time, his roster of women certified. Truth is that he could still build one, Trace capturing the attention of all of the 40-plus-year-old women on the street as he walks down to the store. He still had it. 

“Yo, Trace!” Dave hops up from the steps of his Aunt’s house to show Trace some love. Trace got Dave an overnight warehouse job years ago and he’s been indebted to him ever since. 

“Peace, king. What’s good?” Dave wants to ask Trace about you but last time he asked someone else in your family, it didn’t end the way he planned. 

“Shit, Trace. Just waiting for the street lights to come on so we can really get it in out here. You at Ms. Jerri’s crib? Everybody up there?” 

“Yeah. Everybody. You remember my niece, Y/N? She came up too.” 

Dave’s mind screams every expletive known to man. He wonders if you came up with you-know-who but asking Trace would open up old wounds and expose a decision that Trace explicitly forbade him not to make. 

Dave was Trace 2.0 and Trace knew it. He didn’t want that for his niece so when he saw Dave flirting with you at last year’s block party, he made it a point to pull Dave to the side to ask him in not-so-nicely terms to knock it off. 

You worked all the way around that threat with the help of Aunt Jerri. 

Aunt Jerri encouraged you to “remember that you’re on vacation” and that “what goes on here, stays here.” She saw the way you looked at Dave. It was the same way she gazed at your Uncle Terrence when she first met him. You were beyond smitten, turned on by the way he walked and talked. Dave could hem you up and pick you up. He oozed confidence that almost crossed into obnoxiousness. You wanted him and couldn’t hide it and Aunt Jerri encouraged to “have some fun with all of that.” She vowed to keep your secret from your Uncle Trace. You didn’t know it would turn into two of the most passionate weeks you would ever have and subsequently the worst heartbreak you ever felt. 

“Yeah, I do.” That’s all Dave could muster up to say as he feels his heart boil over. He daps up Trace, sits back down on the steps and opens up Instagram. 

Yo. You up here? 

Taglist: @yoursoulstea​​ @harleycativy​ @twistedcharismaaa​ @dorkskinneded​​ @need-my-fics​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @writerbee-ffs​ @chaneajoyyy​ 

[neo-culture-mafia]

Chest Fire (l.dh)

Warnings: |Strong Themes| |Triggering Themes|

Summary: He wasn't the same. No one was, really. But, especially him...Donghyuck. He lost you and can't bear feeling sober anymore. He needed to be numb so he didn't feel himself and get lost in his own mind. But the guys are getting tired of watching Donghyuck drink away his money--but the damage had already been done.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Donghyuck stumbled the now home feeling club where sweaty bodies pressed against each other and peach scented vodka drifted through the humid and sticky air.

The alcohol was making his fingers turn into fire as his toes curled in his combat boots. Another random girl walked up to offer him a dance, but he turned her away already knowing that she couldn't move like you. You were special, and no whore at the club could compare to you, yet he still came crawling back here for the simple fact he couldn't crawl back into bed with you.

He was lost and needed help because his heart was losing its sense of direction. The booming of the bass vibrated through his shoes as his fingers curled into his palm. He needed to stay balanced and he was finding it harder with every passing minute.

He lousily made his way over to a bar stool, not wasting a second before sitting down. "Anoth-" Hyuck was cut off by the bartender. "Im sorry buddy, I'm cutting you off. You've had way too much to drink tonight." He said and Donghyuck was just sitting there, his mouth wide open in shock.

"I am...You-you should..." He slurred over his words, trying to at least get 5 more drinks out of the bartender he now deemed as a friend. Yet, this guy saw himself as Hyuck's friend too, and friends don't let each other kill themselves by drinking their pain away...even though it might help.

Yet, the raging fire in Hyuck's chest only became more apparent at the sudden news of his cut off.

"I think it's time I call Mark, Hyuck. It's time to go home." The bartender said grabbing his phone from his back pocket; and like a cherry bomb...Hyuck exploded.

"No." He slammed his fists on the bar like a 5 year old. "No no no." He repeatedly said slamming his hands down. "Give me more. You're not my father." Donghyuck said and the bartender just sighed and felt pity at the sight.

Stares were coming from each direction as the man gave in to Donghyuck's wants for more liquor. Hyuck sat down, drinking his beer through a straw because he had read somewhere that women liked 'sophisticated' men. Yet, even after 20 minutes of him sitting there sipping his bitter liquid through a neon yellow bendy straw, he finally gave up when he was now drinking air through the endless loops of the bendy plastic.

Even if someone came over and talked to him, he knows he could never take them home to where you used to lay; where you and him had pillowtalks; where you and him did things that only the moon kept secret. It would never be the same...no matter what girl came skipping along.

This was his last resort on trying to cap the memories he had with you. The alcohol was no match for his loneliness though, and it was starting to show. "Hey buddy, you good?" The bartender asked, putting a hand on Hyuck's shoulder. "Uh yeah...totally." Donghyuck chuckled. He turned to face the other man again. "How much is my tab?" Hyuck asked as he grabbed his wallet.

"Why? Usually you pay after 2 weeks." The guy said as he dried a glass lazily. "Not this time my man." Hyuck said fooling around with his wallet. "No, seriously. It's fine." The bartender said going into a folder and ripping up pieces of paper that were labeled as receipts.

"I was gonna pay!" Hyuck said getting defensive. "No...I promise it's fine." The bartender said and Hyuck groaned as he still slipped a 100 out and gave it the worker. "For all the trouble I caused." He said and the man just grabbed it hesitantly. "Thank you?" He questioned, but Hyuck was already out the door with another beer in his ring adorned hand.

He stumbled in a literal circle for 20 minutes. "Hyuck." He heard someone call. It sounded like you. He immediately stopped and looked at the beer. "Hyuck!" Someone screamed this time. "Y/n?" He called out, turning around now. His heard was whooshing with all the passing traffic; all the bright city lights blending together. The fire on his chest wanting to grow more and more at the such sweet sound.

"Y/n!" He yelled and the people passing him gave dirty looks but he was trying to find you. "Hyuck." Someone grabbed him from behind. He whirled around and was met eye to eye...with Jaemin. "...y/n..." is all that Hyuck muttered to himself.

"No. It's Jaemin." Jaemin reassured and the delirious boy could only nod, meaning he could understand him. "It's time to go home now." Jaemin said holding Hyuck's arm and leading him to a car.

"Can we go to y/n's place?" Hyuck asked like a five year old who just lost his favorite toy. Jaemin opened the passenger door and helped the boy in.

You and Jaemin were twins. You were siblings but acted like best friends, so naturally when you and Hyuck started dating, the three of you became family. So seeing Hyuck so hung up about you leaving him...it hurts Jaemin too.

"I don't think that's a good idea, buddy." Jaemin sighed, buckling his best friend up. "Please. I need to see her." Hyuck gripped Jaemin's hand. "Please." He choked out, tears ready to spill at any moment.

Jaemin removed his hand and groaned; slamming the door with such a force that it rocked the car a little.

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

"We're here." Jaemin braked hardly infront of the homes for you and what seemed like a million other people. Hyuck was jolted awake, but he was still thankful for the hour trip Jaemin made.

Jaemin just looked out his window and sulked like a pouty baby. Hyuck had sobered up a little and he was able to control himself and his own body.

He hopped out of the car and walked the short way to the gate. He opened the small gate and walked up the foot path to your house. The walking distance felt like muscle memory as he recognized the familiar feeling.

He was then met with the glimmering marble stuck in the ground. He stared at your engraved name in the ground. He just sighed, falling to his knees. "...hey baby..." He said sitting on his bottom and crossing his legs so he sat like a kindergartener in class.

"I miss you." He sighed again, tracing hearts next to your name. "Jaemin misses you...he's just...scared to come visit you..." Hyuck said looking back to the boy sitting in the car. Even in the complete darkness of night, anyone could see Jaemin's body shake with sobs. The light behind him made it look like a shillouete. It was absolutely beautiful yet heartbreaking.

Yet his body straightened again and you could see Jaemin light a cigarette quickly.

Donghyuck looked back down to you. "Jaemin started smoking again." He sighed and picked at the weeds growing around your headstone. "Renjun doesn't come out of his room except for missions." He said and recalled what the others were doing.

"I caught Jisung in your room, trying to talk to you...he's been a mess." Hyuck told of the younger boy, totally lost with the fact you aren't around anymore. "And...we're just all...really sorry it happened like this."

You died in a mission gone wrong. You had the option of staying in the truck with Chenle, or accompying Hyuck and Jaemin into the warehouse where Jeno, Renjun, and Jisung were working undercover. You all didn't hear the man sneaking up behind you, and when you did...it was too late.

Hyuck was twirling his engagement ring around his finger. "This is useless." He said and took it off, setting it right next to yours that was locked in marble forever. He leaned back and looked at the stars. They were so bright that night. It was crazy. "...let me let you go already..." He mumbled as he watched a star fizzle out completely.

"I love you." Hyuck said leaning down and kissing your stone sweetly. "...wait for me..." He said as he got up and walking away back to the car. He hopped in, now completely sober after the experience.

"Ready?" Your brother asked, ready to speed away from this place that held you imprisoned. "Yeah...I'm ready." Hyuck said and they zoomed away as if they were still threatened by the attacker that took you.

"..soon enough..." Hyuck whispered to himself, setting his chin in his hand and looking into the city. "...soon enough..." He closed his eyes.

----------

THE NEXT DAY

Hyuck didn't sleep at night, literally. He sat up on the rug the whole night, afraid of the harsh reality that once he opened his bedroom door, you wouldn't be there. He knew you weren't there, he just doesn't want to accept it.

You both were so strong and had so many plans for the future. You both wanted kids, a home, a life...and it was all down the drain now.

It was just getting harder to live everyday when his every breath felt like a gunshot to the chest. His mind was a bomb, and it was going off every time he is reminded of you and the way you used to tell him it was okay.

"You fucker." Jaemin yelled as he shot the man down quickly. Hyuck dropped his gun and grabbed you as you began to drop.

"Chenle, get 127 unit down here, man down." Jaemin called and Hyuck was still frozen in shock, yet the bullet stuck in your neck made him snap in and out of this icy trance.

"Come on, you got this. Keep your eyes open." Hyuck said taking off his bandana and getting ready to wrap it around your throat so it can stop the bleeding. Yet, you wouldn't be able to breath . Him and Jaemin realised this at the same time, as your eyes became icy and pale. You were dying. You realised this too. It would be a painful and gruesome way to go, but it was happening.

"It's okay." You motioned with your mouth, the hole in your throat, not letting you speak. The look on your fiancés face would haunt you to the other side. He looked so...scared. "It's okay. I'm here." You mouthed again and touched his cheek. He just looked down at you as you took your final breath. Jaemin hasn't told anyone yet, but he was so ready to pop one on himself in that very moment, yet he was so convinced this was a dream that all he did was stare down at your cold and pale face.

Jaemin woke up the next morning and wished he didn't. Hyuck didn't sleep till the next night; he was too afraid of the dark and the thoughts that would cloud his mind once he was alone, wanting to be with you.

Hyuck was now laying in a baby position, holding his legs close to his chest. The knocking on the door brought him out of his dark thoughts. "Open." He mumbled and the door opened to Jaemin.

"Dude...we've been at training for an hour now." He said and all Hyuck did was nod, understanding what he was saying. "Sorry?" He yawned and Jaemin slumped at his friends expression.

He sat down next to his laying position.

It was pure silence until it was sliced by Hyuck's heartbreaking confession. "It hurts." He said, and Jaemin didn't have to be a genius to figure out what he was talking about. "I know...i know." He said putting his hand on Donghyuck's shoulder. "It hurts so much." Hyuck cried, curling up into a tighter ball.

The firey feeling in Hyuck's chest was like never before. It felt so much different as your literal other half held him as he cried like a child.

The burning was unbearable as his eyes screwed shut in pure agony. Jaemin couldn't help the tears from pouring either. Sitting on the ground in yours and Hyuck's apartment was all too real. It was too real you weren't here anymore.

Hyuck finally calmed down and looked to his friend. "...please...please end this..." He begged and Jaemin couldn't yell at him. He wanted to end this pain too. The bottle of aspirin wasn't doing anything anymore. It all hurt too much for any medication to numb it.

"...I'm...not going to kill you..." Jaemin breathed, the words falling out of his mouth. "...please..." Hyuck became desperate to make the raging in his chest and head stop.

"I'm...no." Jaemin said standing up now, leaving Hyuck on the floor. "It hurts...I know...It hurts like hell. But, you can't give up now. She wouldn't be happy with this..." Jaemin started getting into his own mind.

He had been so long without one of your hugs or seeing you smile at his surprise tickle attacks.

"I...I know it seems like the only way. I know that." Jaemin said pulling at his hair.

"Because it is." Hyuck bursted through the air, throwing the TV remote at the wall. It ended up hitting the vase and made it shatter into a million little pieces.

"I'm tired! I'm tired of coming home alone! I could lie, and say it's okay and that I like it that way, but I don't!" Hyuck screamed, kicking things around to get his point across.

"It feels as if I'll never be happy again, and at this point I don't care. I just want this..." Hyuck said pointing to himself and all around the room. "this....I want this to end..."

They were left together in the quiet room, the only sound being their breathing. They could only look at each other at a time like this.

-----------

"I just don't know what to say anymore." Mark sighed as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. They were all in practice, and Jaemin had left about an hour ago to find Donghyuck.

"None of us do." Renjun mumbled, twisting his leather bracelet around his wrist.

"He's gonna end up killing himself if we don't do something." Mark said what everyone was thinking. "We just need to get him out of the house." Mark finished as he grabbed his jacket.

"No...we should let him be alone...he'll just be aggressive if we tell him to move on." Jisung finally piped in, trying to get everyone to turn around and leave Hyuck alone.

"Jaemin has it...it will be okay." Jisung said, more of assuring himself than anyone else.

Everyone looked at each other in silence, even though they knew it wouldn't be okay...ever.

"...okay..." Mark said dropping his jacket and walking back over slowly.

"...30 pushups..." Mark said and the Junior Forces hit the ground, their worry and fear going into the performance they were all wearing on their face.

----------

"...i'm cold..." Jaemin muttered and Hyuck could only nod, the tears falling down into the blue water. "...me too..." He muttered.

He held Jaemin close to his chest, the water sloshing over the sides a little bit. "...it's going to be okay..." Jaemin reassured Hyuck, but also himself. "...i know..." was all that was muttered from the slightly older boy.

"...thank you..." was the last thing said by Hyuck before he grabbed Jaemin's hand. He closed his eyes as the banging and yells from the front door began to get more violent, the rest of the units trying to get to them. Yet, they were in the bathroom and no one could make it to them in time. It was already over.

Jaemin gripped Hyuck's hand one more time as he felt everything become still, shuttering in the cold water that entrapped both of their bodies. Both of their eyes closing, and the raging fire in their chests finally stopped....

...everything stopped...

○••••••••••••••••○

I honestly think this is the worst thing I have ever written, to be completely honest.

I might do a couple time stamps for what happens after...but...yeah. I hope you enjoyed it, and sorry in advance if I made you cry.

Love,

~J

[marcloveskylie]

Kylie Minogue Sunday Times interview in full. (Thanks to Darren Nixon)

Kylie Minogue interview: the pop star talks love, regret and new beginnings ahead of playing the Glastonbury ‘legends’ slot

Kylie Minogue is glowing. Of course she is. As the blue-eyed, blonde princess of pop music and golden girl of pop culture, idolised by millions since the 1980s, Minogue, I imagine, floats around in a perpetual state of looking luminous. She has also been dancing in front of our photographer for an afternoon and, as she puts it, “should be glowing after all that make-up!” It’s not just the make-up. On the brink of releasing a new album, the gig of her career, her 51st birthday and with the thrill of a new man, she is happy. “I could say nothing and you could read everything,” she laughs, pointing to her smiling face. “I’ve met someone who I feel good with. It feels right.”

Post-shoot, Minogue sits upright and cross-legged on a sofa in our east London studio, her 5ft frame wrapped in a barely-there slip dress. Much has been written about her dabbles with Botox, something she admitted in 2009, but today she looks beautiful and natural — faint lines on her face, yet still miles younger than 50. She speaks so softly that I strain to hear her and she answers many questions with a giggle. On the surface, dainty and delicate. Underneath, nerves of steel. “None of this was handed to me,” she says, “but this was my destiny. I was meant to do it.”

The first music I remember was a 1989 VHS tape of Kylie’s videos. Aged five, I watched nothing else for months. Fever (2001) and Aphrodite (2010) — the CDs scratched from overuse — made up much of the soundtrack to my clubbing twenties. Interviewing her is an excruciating test, as I attempt to maintain professionalism while trying not to touch her face. (Full disclosure: when we hug at the end, I scream a bit. She doesn’t mind.) But aren’t we all Team Kylie? In 2005, when, at the age of 36, she revealed her breast cancer diagnosis, support from fans and the press came in floods. When her highly public relationships end, it is always her the world sides with. She is, perhaps, the only non-Brit considered a “national treasure” by the tabloids — The Sun ran a campaign in the early Noughties to have her bottom listed as a World Heritage Site on the grounds it was an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. Brand Kylie has mastered the near impossible: triumphing for three decades, with gold- and platinum-certified records, scandal-free and to global adoration. She’s still considered both a reigning disco diva and a bubbly, Aussie girl next door. Underestimate her at your peril, though. Being Kylie, she says, “takes a lot of work, graft and insecurity — not always what the wrapped-up end product looks like. There have been times when I’ve thought, ‘I just can’t.’ But you’ve got to take the knocks because they’re always coming. It ain’t all roses.” A pause. “But maybe otherwise it wouldn’t be as sweet in the end.”

She values her private life as “precious”, and admits that she has “sacrificed some anonymity”, no doubt because her romances have been tabloid fodder for years. Her most high-profile relationship was with INXS frontman Michael Hutchence from 1989 to 1991. In 1997, long after they broke up, he committed suicide. For four years, she dated the French actor Olivier Martinez, who supported her through her cancer diagnosis and chemotherapy (“Olli was there all the time,” she said in 2006). They broke up in 2007, but were rumoured to have reignited their romance in 2017, claims that she has never addressed. Then there was an engagement to the British actor Joshua Sasse. The two started dating in 2015 and that December she told Desert Island Discs that Sasse, then 28, was “my love”. They announced their engagement in February 2016, but broke up 12 months later; last September, he married an Australian entrepreneur. It strikes me as sad, but her steeliness quickly reappears.

You’ve had your heart broken, I begin. “I don’t know about heartbroken,” she flashes. “I’ve made mistakes.” Such as? “I regret lying to myself. Like, ‘This is OK,’ and doing the merry dance. When that honest bit inside of you knows, but you’re busy covering it up? I regret doing that. It’s not fair on yourself. And yet I think we’ve all been there, we’ve all done it. But I don’t see myself doing it again. I’ve met someone who I feel good with.” She has been dating Paul Solomons, the 45-year-old creative director of British GQ, for just over a year. When talk turns to him, she lights up. “I can feel my face going,” she says. “People say, ‘Your face changes when you talk about him,’ and it does. Happiness. He’s an inspiring, funny, talented guy. He’s got a real-life actual job! It’s lovely.”

Their weekends are generally spent in her Knightsbridge home, watching documentaries on Netflix — “We liked the Ted Bundy Tapes. I was too scared to watch them on my own” — or listening to podcasts — “Have you heard Dear Joan & Jericha [Julia Davis and Vicki Pepperdine’s mock agony-aunt podcast]? I’ve literally creased myself to that, it’s so inappropriate.” He does most of the cooking. “He’s got me cooking too, actually. He’s the first to do that. It can no longer be the family joke that I can’t cook.” Her family are all still in Australia. Her parents, Ron and Carol, worked as an accountant and dancer respectively, and her younger sister, Dannii, followed in Kylie’s showbiz footsteps as a pop star. She also has a younger brother, Brendon. They are a close family who text daily and speak frequently. I imagine they are overprotective about any new boyfriends. Minogue tells me that the first time Solomons met her clan was spending last Christmas with them. “They [already] could tell I was good within myself. They liked him before they met him, and they liked him more after they met him.”

Her Australian accent is still distinctive, but she has lived in London since the early 1990s, when Soho was her stomping ground. “I was really deep in London nightlife back then,” she says. Now, generally, the only time she’s up until the early hours is when she’s on tour. Her last big night out was her 50th birthday party, a year ago, at Chiltern Firehouse, complete with performances by Rick Astley and Jake Shears. “I went to bed at about 5am, but probably had no more than a glass of champagne all night. I was talking and dancing and high on life. The icing on the cake was that I had my special someone to share it with.”

It’s remarkable that Minogue has the stamina to dance until 5am at an age when many women are experiencing the menopause. Indeed, she’s already been there, done that. As is common with younger breast cancer patients, her menopause was medically induced when she had treatment, to suppress her oestrogen levels. On Desert Island Discs, she stated that she would love to start a family. It’s a difficult subject to broach, but I wonder if she feels the chance to have children has passed. “I can definitely relate to that,” she answers. “I was 36 when I had my diagnosis. Realistically, you’re getting to the late side of things. And, while that wasn’t on my agenda at the time, [cancer] changed everything. I don’t want to dwell on it, obviously, but I wonder what that would have been like. Everyone will say there are options, but I don’t know. I’m 50 now, and I’m more at ease with my life. I can’t say there are no regrets, but it would be very hard for me to move on if I classed that as a regret, so I just have to be as philosophical about it as I can. You’ve got to accept where you are and get on with it.”

Born and raised in Melbourne, she attended acting school in her home town and became a superstar at 18 as Charlene in the Australian soap Neighbours. Charlene’s wedding to Jason Donovan’s Scott in 1987 was witnessed by 20m viewers in the UK. Despite no formal singing or dancing training, she left the show to pursue music, and her debut album, Kylie, released in 1988, was No 1 in the UK for six weeks. She has since released 13 more studio albums, as well as dozens of compilation, live and remix records. Next month she is releasing Step Back in Time, her latest greatest hits album. All the big hitters are on there: Spinning Around, I Should Be So Lucky, Confide in Me. She doesn’t have a favourite, but points to Where the Wild Roses Grow (1995) and All the Lovers (2010) — “just glorious”. She had to brace herself, she says, to listen to some of the older tracks. “I recorded Locomotion when I was 18 or 19. I was so young and I felt so young.” She shakes her head in bewilderment.

Minogue has just finished the Golden Tour, six months of shows in Europe and Australia. “I don’t know how much time I’ve got before my showbiz hips and knees start to protest,” she laughs. “They’ll be like, ‘You’ve been treading those boards for a long time, we think you should slow down a bit.’ ” This summer, along with gigs in London, Manchester and even Scarborough, she will take to the Pyramid Stage at Glastonbury in the Sunday afternoon “legends” slot, previously filled by the likes of Dolly Parton, Barry Gibb and Lionel Richie. It is particularly poignant as she was set to perform there in 2005, but her cancer diagnosis meant that she had to pull out. She sang at the festival in 2010, as a guest of the Scissor Sisters, but has never performed solo. “I’m bound to cry,” she says. On stage? “It’s going to happen. When I was meant to be there, I watched it from Australia. I was dealing with much bigger things back then, but when I’m there it will take me back to when I wasn’t there. But I’ll work through that.”

She confirms there will be guests joining her on stage, but won’t tell me who. Dolce & Gabbana designed the Greek goddess-inspired costumes for her Aphrodite: Les Folies tour in 2011, but her on-stage style now is “more human, more real”. “But even Elvis had a few diamantés on him,” she continues. “Come on! I’m thinking of it as a big sing-along. It’s daytime, so you can’t have the lights, effects and lasers that I normally have. I think the simplicity is part of what makes that slot so magical. Dolly Parton just walked on out. Lionel Richie just walked on out. I mean, I’ll sashay on out.”

Minogue’s manager then intervenes. The car is waiting and the star has somewhere to be. “I keep threatening my team that I’m going to retire,” she winks, safe in the knowledge that there are decades left of her career. And, with that, she sashays out. Glowing.

Step Back in Time is released on June 28

[a-winchester-fairytale]

Killing Christmas

Summary: The brothers pick up a case where 5 murders occurred in one night at a Christmas party.  The case turns personal when Dean and Y/N become victims of the supernatural and time is running out.

Word Count: 3,309

Warnings: Canon Violence, mention of murders and suicide, relationship fighting, anger, angst

A/N:  This was written for @katymacsupernatural Christmas Gone Wrong challenge.  I appreciate the extra time to get this finished.  I hope you enjoy how it turned out.  I also included a prompt in bold for @winchesterprincessbride "Jen Says What" Challenge.  As I was writing this story I thought the two of them fit perfect together.

Please feel free to let me know what you think.

“And you think this is a case?”  Dean asked Sam, pulling the laptop screen to face him.  Sam shrugged.

“We have looked into less.”  He answered simply.  Dean pursed his lips and looked through the article on the screen.  You let your hands slide down around his neck to the center of his chest as you bent down to read over his shoulder.

“Five girls killed their significant others at a Christmas party on the same night, and they can’t see any other connection between them?  If that isn’t a case of supernatural interference, it must have been one hell of a party.”  You teased, kissing Dean on the check before standing back up.

“Okay, let’s check it out.”  Dean agreed, shoving the computer back to his brother.

Four hours later, the three of you unloaded your bags into the Blue Elves Motel in Rockville, Minnesota. 

  “Why don’t you and Dean go talk to the home owner?  I’m going down to the sheriff’s office to see if I can get any more information from them.”  Sam suggested.

You and Dean pulled up to a two story home in a nice upscale neighborhood.  A police tape was still hanging over the edge of the front door, but workers were starting to resume their normal duties.  You followed Dean up to the house, noticing a van parked around the side of the property with Rockville Décor written on the side panel.

“Good afternoon.  My name is Dean Weston and this is my partner Y/N.”  Dean began, holding up his FBI badge for the maid to see.  “Can we please speak with the owner of the house?”

The maid nodded, stepping aside to allow the two of you access to the foyer.  Within moments a woman in her early 40’s stepped into the room and greeted you both.  You engaged Mrs. Follen in the details of the night of her annual Christmas party while Dean glanced around, keeping one ear open to what she was saying.

“It was just like any other night, until about 11:00 and then I heard screaming near the bar area.”  She began, leading you both into a den with an old mahogany bar in the far corner.  “When I came in, I saw our neighbor stabbing her husband in the chest with a serving knife over there.  Next to the patio doors, my husband work colleague had used a broken bottle to cut her fiancé’s throat.  There was blood everywhere and people were running away, practically trampling each other.  It was horrible.”  She continued, obviously shaken.

You watched as Dean looked around the end of the bar where the first victim was killed, running his hand along the edge of the wood and taking a mental inventory of the bottles behind the counter.

“I told the bartender to call 911, and by the time the police arrived, three more people were killed.  One was lying face down in the pool out back, drown.  Another was pushed down the stairs in the foyer and broke his neck.  The last was run over on the front lawn.”  Mrs. Follen told you, her hand pointing at the door and then falling weakly by her side.  She closed her eyes and shook her head like she was trying to remove the pictures from her mind, but you knew that she would be living with those images for a long time to come.

“I’m so sorry you have to go through this again.”  You offered, sympathetically touching her hand.  She took a deep breath and nodded.  “Can you remember anything else right before that happening?  Any strange behavior in any of the guests, strange smells, or cold spots where there shouldn’t be?”  You prompted.

“No, nothing comes to mind.  There were so many people here that night that I barely had a chance to stand still though.”

“What about the servants?”  Dean asked, coming closer to where the two of you stood.  “Did you hire outside help that would have had access to the food, drinks, etc that you wouldn’t normally have here?”

“Do you think this was poison?”  She asked instead of answering.

“We just want to be sure to cover all the bases.”  Dean replied.

“Well, I hire a catering company to help with the oeuvres and servers, but I have used that same company for years.”  She replied.  “I could get you their card if that would help.”

“Thank you.”  You answered.  Mrs. Follen went to the desk drawer and pulled out a business card from the top, handing it back to you.

“Mrs. Follen, we are almost ready for the tree.  Where would you like us to put your personal ornaments?”  A young man asked.

“Please excuse me for a moment.”  She said, following him back out into the foyer.

“You’re thinking witches, aren’t you?”  You asked when she was out of hearing range.  Dean shrugged, his brow scrunching up at the thought.

“It would make the most sense, but I haven’t found any hex bags anywhere.” He answered.  “I hate witches.”  He mumbled and you laughed.

“If there is a witch, I don’t think it is her.  She seems genuinely upset about the whole thing.”  You told him, glancing back over your shoulder when you heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey, check this out.”  Dean exclaimed, taking your hand and pulling you to him as he smiled and pointed up at the doorway.

You glanced up to see mistletoe hanging above and shook your head.  “Come on, Dean.  Be serious.”  You whispered.

“I am.  It’s supposed to be good luck, ya know.  I think we could all use a little good luck with this one.”  He added, leaning toward you.  With one more quick glance over your shoulder to make sure Mrs. Follen hadn’t returned, you smiled and kissed Dean.

“Only you would find this romantic.”  You teased him, giving him one more peck on the lips before stepping away, letting your hand gently slip out of his.  Dean just chuckled.

Within moments Mrs. Follen returned to join you both.  “I apologize.  The Rockville Décor company arrived just before you came to collect their Christmas decorations that they set up for the party.  I should have returned them yesterday, but the police wouldn’t allow anyone to move anything until they had finished taking pictures.” She rambled a bit.

“I understand.  We will let you get back to your work.”  You told her.  “This is my card if you think of anything else, please don’t hesitate to call.”

She followed you both to the door and thanked you again before the two of you walked back to the impala.

Sam adjusted the edges of his jacket before stepping into the station and asking to speak with the Sherriff.  A man 20 years his elder stepped out of the office as soon as he heard Sam introduce himself as FBI and waved Sam into the office.

“For once, I can honestly say I’m glad to see the FBI come in on a case.  I’m Sherriff Harper.  This one is a weird one.”  He began as he shuffled some papers away to make room for Sam to sit down.

“Oh, yeah?  How so?”

“Well, for starters, who kills their significant other at a Christmas party I ask you?”  The Sherriff said as Sam sat down across from his desk.  “We can’t make hide nor hair of it.  This kind of thing just doesn’t happen in Rockville.”

“The report I read said that you couldn’t find any connection between the victims.”  Sam lead the conversation and the Sherriff shook his head.  He took off his hat and laid it down on the desk, running a shaky hand through his hair.

“No sir.  Not a one.”  He replied.  “Two of the couples are in their 50’s, both married, but one lives here and the other lives about two hours away and didn’t know anyone except the host.  There was a coworker’s son, who brought his fiancé to the party, then there’s the neighbor’s teenage son who brought his girlfriend that he had been dating for a few months, and last we have the couple that apparently met at the party and didn’t know each other before that night.”  Sherriff Harper explained, laying out the folders for each of the victims in front of Sam as he did.

“And what about the women?  Did they say anything to you or the arresting officers?”

“No one said a word that I know of.  They just sat down next to the body and didn’t move until the officers came and put them in handcuffs.”  He said, once more shaking his head and brushing his hair back.

“I’d like to talk with them, just to see if I can get any further information from them.”  Sam replied after looking through the files. 

“Didn’t they tell you?”  Sherriff Harper asked, surprised.  Sam raised his eyebrows and tilted his head.

“Tell me what?”  He asked, hesitantly.

“They are all dead.”  Sherriff Harper stated bluntly.  “That’s the weirdest part of the whole thing.  It was like they combusted on the inside or something.  Coroner said their insides just burnt up.  I heard of being mad, but never so mad you set your insides ablaze.”

The three of you pored over the files and lore books you had brought with you to the motel room, but none of them had given any clues as to what could have caused this.  After describing what the Sherriff had told him, Sam left no doubt in either of you that he had been correct about this being a case.

Occasionally you and Dean would bicker about something to do with the case.  The longer the three of you did research, the more annoyed you got with everything Dean did or said.  Convinced it was just being cooped up and frustrated about not finding any answers, you finally declared you were taking a break to shower and change clothes for the night.

“Well, I knew the honeymoon phase couldn’t last forever.”  Sam mumbled.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, you two have be nauseatingly happy all the time.  Relationships just don’t work that way.  People bicker occasionally.”  Sam explained, to which Dean simply rolled his eyes.

“And what makes you the expert?”  He asked bitterly.

Sam just turned away and went back to his computer.  He knew Dean was only sulking and no amount of talking would change that.  The only thing that could fix his sour mood at this point was for the two of you to make up.

“I’m going to go get us some dinner and bring it back.  When she gets out of the shower, be nice.”  Sam warned him.  Dean rolled his eyes but threw his keys to Sam instead of flinging another sarcastic retort.

When Sam returned to the hotel, he was shocked to hear yelling coming from the hotel room the three of you rented.  He glanced around, grabbing his gun and headed toward the door.  When he heard a crashing sound, he burst through the door, his gun raised in defense. 

“Whoa!”  He heard Dean exclaim, holding up his hands as you lifted up a chair above you head to throw at him.  “What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Y/N?”  Sam said, putting his gun down and grabbing the chair from your hands just before you could swing at Dean.  He grabbed your arms and you struggled against Sam, yelling at him to let you go.  “Dean, what did you do?”  Sam asked, holding you down.

“I don’t know.  We were fine one minute and then we started bickering about stupid crap and she just started that.”  Dean said, anger and confusion in his voice.

“I want to throat-punch you so bad right now.”  You screamed at Dean over Sam’s shoulder. 

“Go ahead, Sweetheart.”  Dean challenged.

“Not helping.”  Sam told him.  “Just go for a drive or something, Dean.”

Dean scoffed, but jerked the keys out of Sam’s hand and stormed out of the door.  Sam turned, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you to sit down on the edge of the bed.  You tried to calm down, but your blood was still boiling and all you could think about was going after Dean.

“And, you….what is going on around here?”  Sam was asking you, trying to make you talk to him.

“I don’t, I don’t know.  I just can’t stop being angry.”  You stammered, your eyes pleading with Sam to help you as you looked up into his face.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me Sam.  All I know is, and I can’t even believe I’m saying this, but I want to hurt him, like really physically hurt him.  I can’t make it stop.”

“Okay, you have to tell me what happened when the two of you went to that house.  Tell me everything.”  Sam insisted.

You took a deep breath and rubbed the tears from your eyes as your heart rate started to slow down.   You felt Sam timidly start to relax his hold on you, obviously unsure how much control you had over your actions. 

“She led us through the house to the bar room telling us what happened that night, pretty much the same stuff she told the police beforehand.  I kept asking her questions and Dean searched for hex bags or anything out of place.  That’s it.  There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that we could find.”  You explained.

“Was anyone else there?”

“Just some people picking up the Christmas decorations – some company called…..Rockville Décor.”  You replied, slowly remembering the name painted on the side of the van.

“Can I trust you to stay here?”  Sam asked you.  You nodded.

Dean pulled up to the front of what looked like a storage facility and put the impala in park.  Sam climbed out of the passenger seat and Dean followed behind him.  The bell on the front door signaled their arrival and a teenage girl promptly appeared behind the counter to greet them.

“What can I do for you?”  She asked, her gum smacking as she looked them over.

“I’m Sam and this is my partner Dean.  We are with the FBI and we need to speak with the owner.”  Sam replied as they both flashed their badges.

“You’re going to need a lot more than that badge if you want to talk to the owner.”  She replied mildly sarcastic.

“Like what?”  Dean challenged.

“Like a Ouija board.”  She smarted back at him.  “She died, bout a month ago.”

“Son of a bitch.”  Dean muttered under his breath and Sam shot him a reprimanding look. 

“Mind if I ask how she died?” 

“Well….”  The girl began, glancing around to make sure no one else was inside before continuing.  “She locked herself and her husband’s lover in the house and set it on fire around them.” 

“Really.”  Sam stated thoughtfully.  ”That explains why the women died the way they did.”  He whispered to Dean.

“I always thought she was a little crazy to begin with, but I guess once she caught him kissing some other girl under the mistletoe she snapped.”  She added with a shrug.

“Sam, that’s it.”  Dean said, turning to face him.  “I kissed Y/N under the mistletoe at that house.  That has to be what’s going on.”  He added, forgetting that the teenager was there momentarily.

“We are going to need to see all the decorations that were used at the Follen house.  Can you get those for us?”  Sam asked.  The girl looked back and forth between them, debating whether to press the issue and then turned to go into the back room. 

A few moments later, she came out carrying a key.  “They just unloaded them all into storage locker B.  Its around the corner.  Do you need me to show you?”

“No, thanks.  I think we can manage.”  Sam replied with a smile, taking the key from her outstretched hand.

They drove the impala around the corner to the front of the storage unit and opened the trunk.  Armed with a shotgun full of rock salt and an iron club they proceeded to open the metal garage door to reveal a 10x10 room full of boxes. 

“This is going to take all day.” Dean grumbled, setting the iron club down in the doorway and pulling open the first box he came to.

After about an hour of combing through the boxes, they realized they were getting close when the ghost appeared shoving Dean backwards away from the box he was digging through.  Sam shot her with the rock salt and she disappeared.

“She’ll be back.”  He called out to Dean who lifted the box and dumped the contents on the floor in front of him.  He pushed away a few items and pulled out the mistletoe.

“Sam, look out!”  He yelled, pointing to where she had reappeared.  Sam spun around and once more blasted her away with the shotgun.

Dean pulled out his lighter and set the mistletoe on fire as Sam reloaded the shotgun to prepare for another attack.  They both heard her screams and turned to see her dissipate in a ball of fire along with the mistletoe that she had been attached to.

“You okay?”  Sam asked as they walked back out to the impala.  Dean nodded, but he didn’t seem as relieved as Sam thought he should have been.  Instead he was quiet and climbed into the driver’s seat with a worried look on his face.

“What if this didn’t work?”  Dean asked.  “Or worse, what if we are too late?”

Sam sighed, leaning back against the leather seat.  “Don’t worry.  If this didn’t put things back the way they were, we will figure something else out.  I won’t give up.”  Sam promised him.

“I can’t lose her, Sammy.  I just can’t.”  Dean replied, twirling his key ring between his fingers, refusing to look up at him.

“I know.”  Sam answered.  “It will be okay.”

Dean sniffed once and then let out a deep breath, reaching out and starting the impala to head back to the hotel.  He didn’t say much on the drive back, too lost in his own thoughts as the miles ticked by.  When they finally arrived at the motel and parked the car, Dean hesitated and Sam waited patiently.

“Think she still wants to kill me?”  Dean asked aloud, trying to make it sound like a joke.

“There’s only one way to find out.”  Sam played along, gesturing to the motel room door.  Dean huffed a chuckle and got out of the car.

As he did, the door to the motel room opened and you stepped outside.  Both of the brothers stood frozen, waiting to see what you would do. 

“Dean, I’m so sorry.”  You said and his shoulders relaxed.  “I don’t know what happened, I just couldn’t control it.”  You stammered.

“I know, sweetheart.  It’s okay.”  Dean said, stepping forward and wrapping you up into his arms.  He kissed your lips, relieved to have everything back to normal.

“Here we go again.”  Sam teased, rolling his eyes and walking past the two of you to gather his things from inside the motel room.

You laughed, but Dean just pretended not to hear him and squeezed you tighter.

“Let’s go home.”  He suggested. 

“Gladly.”  You replied.  “Besides, I wanted to decorate a little before Christmas gets here.  Maybe we can hang some mistletoe in the bunker like….”  You started to tease him.

“NO!”  Both of them shouted at the same time, cutting you off.

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[huntertales]

Part Two: Pick On Someone Your Own Size. (Everybody Hates Hitler S08E13)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader investigate the death of a Rabbi who spontaneously combusted. The case becomes ever more confusing when they learn that the Rabbi was researching Nazi Necromancers. The trio are attacked by a Golem who turns out to belong to the Rabbi’s grandson, Aaron. The key to the case lies with the Golem but Aaron doesn’t know how to control him, which leaves everyone in danger. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,904.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

The next afternoon you and the boys arrived in Pennsylvania to investigate more of the death of the rabbi to see if it might be supernatural, or just the circumstances of something that science had yet to figure out. Spontaneous human combustion was a thing that happened a few times before to people with no sort of explanation, however you had students who witnessed the man's death and might be able to shed some more light on what happened. Sam parted ways with you when he decided to check out the rabbi’s research and figure out if it might be linked to the reason of his sudden and unexpected cause of death.

You and Dean headed off to the college campus to track down the eyewitnesses who saw the sight first hand. Almost everyone had the same story they repeated to the cops about Isaac Bass; an old guy who hung around a lot at the library and chatted up students about stories that made little sense, only to someone who was probably losing their mind due to old age. Most of the people you talked to couldn’t elaborate more on the stories Isaac went on about due to needing to get to class or didn’t want to. Lucky for you and Dean, when you got the campus pub there was a few students who had lent him and ear from time to hear about his wild stories. And got a front row seat of Isaac’s death the night it happened.  

“He was a really nice old kook.”

“Really nice.”

The two college students who witnessed Isaac's death first hand were two volleyball players that shared more than just their peppy attitudes and outfit. They sat across from you and Dean while they told you about Isaac. You smiled slightly as you raised your brow slightly from their wording about how they described the man as you repeated it, asking what they meant by that. The blonde sitting across from you look at her friend before back at you to elaborate more.

“You know, he’d talk a lot to us, to himself, to anyone who’d listen.” The blonde said. “He was always talking about this secret war that nobody knew was going on.”

“Conspiracy stuff.” The other one added. “He was obsessed with Nazis.”

“But he said they were ‘special Nazis,’ you know…” The blonde turned her head slightly over her shoulder to take a quick glance around the pub to see that all of the students were either talking among themselves or too engaged with their phones to care much about what all of you were discussing about two things that never should go together. “Necromancers. Like, from what world of whatever-craft that my little brother is always playing.”

You dealt with a lot of weird stuff in your time while hunting and came across many forms of evil, but you weren’t lucky yet to come across a couple Nazis and put a bullet in their brain. But you had your fair share of people who tried to raise people from the dead with consequences. You wrote the two words down on the small notepad you had opened and outlined it, knowing there was going to be a fair bit of research tonight for you and Sam to figure out how the two worked in together. You knew well enough it wasn't going to be something for the greater good if it had one of the very worst forms of humans the world had ever seen.

“It’s sad, isn’t it,” The student sitting across from Dean spoke up. You looked up from the paper to hear what she had to say about the poor soul who she thought was losing his mind. “That old people have to go so crazy.”

“I know.” Her friend said. “It is sad.”

You nodded your head in agreement as you kept your gaze down to your notepad while you wrote down a few more things that would be useful for you in the near future. Dean peered over slightly to see what you were writing, but he found his attention lingering away from the table when he felt someone’s eyes on him, like before. He casually glanced around the pub and made eye contact with a man sitting across the room. The stranger gave the man a little too friendly of a smile as he waved. Dean turned his head slightly to see that you were still engrossed in your writing. He realized the man wasn’t waving at you...but him. Dean found himself slightly taken aback as he turned his attention back to the two college students. “You, um...” The older Winchester found himself trailing off for a second, his eyes wandering back to the stranger across the bar, but the man looked away from him. You gave him a slightly confused expression before he pulled himself back to normal. “I'm sorry. You, uh, you both saw the accident?” “I can still hear his screams.” The woman sitting across Dean said, giving you a visual for what the both of them had to witness. “It was like the fire was alive, like,” Her friend continued on. “like it was attacking him.” The other woman nodded her head on agreement. “It was like that.” Dean found himself drifting away from the conversation and to the man across the bar when he realized he was still being stared at, in a way that was making him grow skeptical something was going on here. He excused himself from the conversation, leaving you alone to the volleyball players he might have stuck around to talk to a little while longer if he was single. But his focus was on the stranger who had no business following him around campus. And it was starting to get under the man’s skin. Dean caught the guy off guard when he was drifting off to space and staring at someone else in the bar to make himself look a little less conspicuous. The older Winchester knew better than to think this was anything more than something serious. Dean got the man’s attention when he slapped his fake badge down on the table, making the stranger look back at him, slightly startled at the introduction he wasn’t expecting so soon. Dean introduced himself as Special Agent Bolan, the same name to the rest of his fellow classmates he’d been talking to for the past few hours. He expected the stranger to grow a little nervous out of fear for why the FBI was lurking around campus, but the man’s reaction was anything what he was expecting. He stared at the badge with a sort of bashful smile on his lips, the kind Dean saw on many females faces when he told whatever sort of authority role he was playing to impress them. “Oh, really? Wow.” The man said, smiling slightly as he let out a chuckle. “I thought you were like a headhunter or something.” “This is the second, maybe third time I'm seeing you today?” Dean wondered, bringing up the numbers of times he saw the man's face around campus that was more than just a coincidence. His tone of voice might have been casual, yet the serious expression on his face was anything but. "Why you following me, Gingerbread?”

"Oh, so, we, um..." The man found himself growing slightly embarrassed at what was going on and the miscommunication between the both of them. "we didn't have a thing back there, huh?"

Dean felt himself being thrown through a loop at what the man was talking about, things weren't clicking just yet. "Back where? W-what now?"

"I thought we had a thing back at the quad, you know, a little 'eye magic' moment," The man explained to the older Winchester. Dean suddenly felt the wheels turning in his head. He slowly retracted his badge and flipped it closed. He slightly peered over his shoulder to see that you were wrapping up the conversation with the two students, not having a single clue of what was going on. "and I saw you here and I figured I'd wait until you were done with your meeting and maybe we might, uh..."

Dean had his fair share of flirtatious talk to know what was going on here, hell, he was the one normally giving it to the person that caught his eye. And plenty of women have tried it on him when he was single, even taken. But never in his time had this happen. "Yeah, uh, okay, but no—no moment. This is a...." Dean was normally casual and collected under these kind of situations, but he found himself growing like a babbling idiot. "federal investigation."

"Is that supposed to make you less interesting?" The man tried to make a joke as he chuckled. Dating was hard for everyone when you weren't sure who liked who, but Dean had to give the man props for having good taste. "No, I'm sorry, man. I hope I didn't freak you out."

"No. No. I-I'm n-not freaked out. It's just a, you know...a federal thing. It's a..." Dean realized that he was rambling on like an idiot, the exact same kind of way he used to behave when he was a young teen. He cleared his throat to try and compose himself before he could make himself out to be any more of an idiot. He was saved by the sounds of your approaching heels clicking away. "Okay, citizen. As you were."

"You have a good night." The man said, watching as Dean began to walk away.

"You—You..." Dean turned around to face the man to give him a nice farewell, but he found himself forgetting to stop walking. He accidentally felt his backside hit a table with a few empty glasses on the table, his collusion made them clank together, causing a few eyes to wander over to him to see. Dean felt his cheeks beginning to grow warmer. "have a...okay."

Dean managed to get far enough away without making an idiot out of himself again. You stood waiting for him at the front door with your arms crossed over your chest, wondering what was taking so long. When you saw him approaching, you were ready to head out, but you found yourself lingering behind at the sight of Dean you didn't think you've really ever seen him before. You furrowed your brow slightly at the sight of his cheeks, that were the slightest tinge of pink.

"What's with you? Someone mistake you for a college student?" You joked with him, knowing the both of you were well past the prime age of your youth. Dean shook his head and said nothing more. You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked around to see who he was talking to that was making him so...bashful. You didn't see a young woman that was ten years younger than you on her own, but you did happen to spot a familiar face you noticed while roaming around the campus. "Hey, doesn't that guy look—"

"Yeah. Don't worry about it. Turns out it was just a...misunderstanding." Dean said. He smiled, the kind of way as if someone had told him he was cute. You looked at him before back at the man sitting by himself with a drink. It took you a second before you realized what was going on. It seemed someone had tried to make a pass at him, but it was the opposite gender this time. You let out a quiet chuckle, finding this a little too amusing. "Let's get out of here, huh?"

You nodded your head in agreement as you pulled out your ringing phone from your pocket to see that it was Sam calling. As the both of you made your way out of the pub and back on campus grounds, you looked back over at the man one more time to get a good look at him, thinking you wouldn’t see him ever again. "Eh, he's cute. But you could do better." You muttered. Dean gave you a look from how you were still keeping the topic going, you smiled to yourself and answered your phone before it was too late. “Hey, Sammy."

"Hey. So I looked into the rabbi's research. It doesn't make a lot of sense. Um..." Sam fell silent for a moment over the phone, making you wonder what was going on with him. He spoke up a few seconds later to tell you what he found. "bird watching."

"Huh. Well, the two co-captains of the women's volleyball team Dean and I talked to agreed that the rabbi's death was very unnatural." You told the younger Winchester. "I think we've still got a case."

"That would explain why I have something stuck to my shoe." Sam said. You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked over at his older brother that was standing next to you, prompting you to ask if he was being followed. "Yeah, I think so."

"That's weird." You said, starting to walk to the Impala with the older Winchester. "Dean thought him and I were being followed earlier."

"Turns out it was just a gay thing." Dean felt the need to add that detail to clarify loud enough for his brother to hear over the phone. You stared at the man for a second from what he felt the need to announce, Sam's voice on the other line echoed a 'what' at his brother's confession that dismissed the situation as nothing to worry about. Dean ignored your look as he snatched your phone away to talk to his brother. "Nothing. You need a hand?"

"Yes, please." Sam said. "Some place quiet?"

“Visitors parking—the boonies. I’ll park in the back. You meet up with Y/N." Dean said, coming up with a plan of action. You made your way to the passenger side as Dean got himself behind the wheel. “Thirty minutes.”  

+ + +

It was growing darker when you met up with Sam in front of the library and spent a few minutes talking to one another, pretending to be engaged with something that sound important to throw his shadow off. You and him started to make your way back to the Impala that was parked a good distance away where you met up. The metal ring that held the keys to the Impala dangled off your index finger while Sam walked in sync with you, both of you pretending to be oblivious about your surroundings as you carried on a conversation. You complained about your feet hurting you, Sam told you to wear more practical shoes on the days where it required a lot of walking. You tossed him a dirty glare as you made your way to the trunk of the Impala, pretending to fetch a different pair of shoes. Sam made it seem like he was about to make his way to the passenger side, but he stayed close. You began to casually flip through each key, trying to remember which one went to the car. However, due to your slippery finger, you accidentally dropped them to the pavement. Instead of picking it up right away, you looked over at Sam, giving him a small smile from what you were about to do.

"Oh, no. I’m such a klutz. Sammy, can you help a pregnant woman out?” You asked him, loud enough for him to only hear. “My back hurts when I bend down.”

Sam pretended to give you an annoyed look at what you were asking of him, he did it anyway. It wasn’t a total lie. You turned your back to the bushes that were behind you, a perfect spot for someone to be crouching down right now and spying on your every move. If you had to guess, Dean was making his move as you and his brother distracted the stranger. And that’s where you ran into a slight problem. Well, more of a huge one.

The Winchester boys were rather tall; Dean was a good six feet somethin' while his little brother had three more inches on him that caused him to tower over most, you especially. However the person following Sam wasn't someone that compared to his height...not even close.

Sam was about to push himself up back to his feet when something unexpected happened that sent you and him to look behind you. It started off with the sound of someone screaming, which you quickly learned was Dean after you saw him go flying in the air—and land directly into a parked van that made you wince at the impact it had. Broken glass from the windows  cushioned his fall as he dropped to the pavement.

You called out the man's name in a panicked tone as you saw him curl up at the pain settling in his body from the impact that you knew had to cause some damage. Your first instinct was to go running towards him to make sure that he was all right. But what you saw emerging from the bushes, who had thrown a man very much heavier than you through the air like he was nothing more than a rag doll made you rethink your decision.

"Oh my God. Oh my God." You weren't the type of hunter to panic when you saw a dangerous hunter coming your way. Hell, almost all of the time you went running towards it, ready to take it down once and for all. But who you saw charging forward at you made you realize this was something you hadn’t really ever dealt with before. You found yourself acting like a deer in headlights, your mind trying to wrap around the fact that a giant was coming your way, probably ready to give you the same treatment he gave to Dean. "Sammy…”

You had gotten pretty lucky from the tumbles you took here and there while hunting that didn't disrupt the baby. That was when you went up against monsters you knew like the back of your hand. But what you saw approaching you...it was nothing you've seen before. And didn't want to be near. Sam tried his hardest to work quick as he could to unlock the trunk and retrieve a weapon he could use against the thing coming your way. He snatched a machete and yanked you by your arm, getting you behind him so you were out of harm's way. Sam swung the weapon to the arm that was coming in his direction to try and slow the giant down.

The blade sunk into the forearm of the monster, the one that was sharp enough to slice through a human neck, but it didn't do much of anything. You felt your eyes grow slightly wider as your mouth fell open at the sight of the machete in flesh without needing more than one swing. But the machete didn't do much of anything to slow the creature down. You felt your eyes grow slightly more wider as you mouth fell open at the sight of the blade stuck in the monster's arm, nothing more than just a dent. No blood, no cut.

Sam had to use all the strength he had to yank the machete out from the creature’s arm, but before he could take another swing, it seemed the creature wasn't too happy with what the younger man had did. You could only watch as Sam was grabbed ahold by the neck from a hand that had to be big as your head. Without even breaking a sweat, the thing lifted up Sam off the ground, letting his feet dangle for a good few seconds as the man struggled to breathe. Your mouth was wide open and your brain was screaming for you to tell the creature to stop hurting Sam, but the fear of what you were staring at made you fall mute. However it seemed someone had come to the rescue, ordering for the creature to stop.

Sam felt his feet hit the ground after only a few seconds as he inhaled a much needed breath after his neck was squeezed tighter than he’d ever felt before. You knew there was another man standing next to Sam, who had commanded for the enormous giant to stop hurting Sam, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off the thing that towered over Sam and made you feel like Thumbelina. The thing you were staring at...he was nothing you've encountered before. It was like the Incredible Hulk.

"What the…” You brain began to finally start working when it began stuttering out words as you continued to stare up at the giant in front of you. Your neck was starting to grow sore from having to look so high up. The creature stared down at you and Sam, showing no sort of emotion to indicate what he was thinking, or if he was planning on killing you with his bare hands that could easily snap your neck like a twig. "What the hell is that?"

“He’s a golem.” You found your gaze lingering away from the monster that now had an identity. You looked over to see a face you spotted earlier today at the pub. The man who tried to make a pass on Dean. "Well, he's my golem."

You managed to force a smile at the bit of information that didn’t make you feel any better about this situation. The man didn’t seem like he was here to harm any of you, despite the fact that the golem had thrown Dean across the parking lot, where he remained almost forgotten—until you heard him mutter something about his spleen. You quickly looked over to see him still on the ground curled up in pain. You winced slightly as you made your way over to him, wanting to make sure he was all right and there was no broken bones you needed to worry about.

+ + +

At first things seemed to be going in a bit of a strange direction in this hunt; Nazi necromancers, a rabbi who burst into flames with his last book checked out for his research about bird watching and a golem that belonged to a guy named Aaron. But all of it was connected together. You and the boys were invited back to Aaron's’ motel he was renting to discuss things in a more private setting. You were the last one inside while Aaron intended to be the first after he unlocked the motel to his motel room, but his golem pushed him out of the way, wanting to scope out the place for any more potential danger before all of you were heading inside.

“The rabbi who was murdered, Isaac Bass, he was my grandfather. That’s why we’re here.” Aaron explained the situation that lead all of you here. “When you guys started to follow up on his case, we started following you.”

“So, wait. What you’re saying is that you and me—we, uh, didn’t have a moment?” Dean couldn't help himself but linger back to the first encounter he had with the man that gave him the wrong impression. And made him fumble around like an idiot. You couldn’t help yourself when you rolled your eyes as you let out a sigh, wondering why he had to bring it back up in the first place.

“No, man.” Aaron said, his face scrunching up slightly. “I was tailing you.”

"Told you I was being followed. He was my gay thing." Dean turned his attention to you and his brother. You raised your brow slightly as you gave him a look, wondering why he was still going on about it longer than he should. Dean seemed to have gotten the hint. "That was really good. You really had me there. That's very smooth."

"Yeah, well, smooth's just about all I got." Aaron said. You found your gaze lingering away from the man and to the golem that had been circling around the motel, keeping a watchful eye on things. You weren't sure what to make of the golem, but it seemed his relationship with Aaron was anything but pleasant when he stared down at the man with an almost disapproving look. Aaron stared back at him, showing the thing that he wasn't in the mood to take any of his crap tonight "Yeah, that's right. Keep walking...you chia pet.”

"So, that's a golem?" Sam asked, pointing a finger to the creature that began walking around the motel once more.

“Yes. Shaped from clay and brought to life by rabbis to protect the jewish people in times of—I don’t know—general crappiness.” Aaron said. You've heard a few things about the creatures from time to time during your search, but not enough to realize they were real. Or would have been so large. You couldn't help yourself but to clarify if the one lingering around here was his. "Hardly. My grandfather left him to me. I'm the last surviving descendant of the members of this...thing, this...initiative."

"The Judah Initiative?" You asked him, wondering if that’s what he was trying to remember.

“Right, and he—”

"Who?!" You suddenly felt yourself jump out of your own skin at the booming voice coming from directly behind you that took you off guard. You peered over and then up to see it was the golem hovering over you, You smiled slightly, hoping he would get the impression that you weren't much of a threat. "Who are they to know about the Men of Judah?"

“It’s okay.” Dean reassured the golem in a slow tone of voice for him to understand. You could only presume it was more patronizing than helpful. “We are the good guys.”

"We're hunters. This is Sam and Dean Winchester. I'm Y/N Y/L/N.” You introduced yourself to the golem in more detail to let him understand you weren’t here to cause any harm. "We know about the Judah Initiative because their grandfather was a Man of Letters. My father was one, too."

“Yes.” The golem said, recognizing the title as he stared down at you and the boys, with the type of look that reassured you he wasn’t going to do anything to hurt you. “The rabbis knew the Men of Letters.”

Aaron offered all of you something to drink along the line of beer, much as you would have enjoyed one, you forced yourself to politely decline. You weren’t much of a drinker, but you liked to have the occasional one, but that wasn’t going to be possible for another several months to a year. You did however take a seat when he gestured to a couch that you happily sank down on to rest your aching feet and back. You leaned back as the boys cracked open their beers. “So...your grandfather was into all this supernatural stuff, too?” Aaron struck up a conversation when he took a seat on the chair across from Sam.

“The whole family. Mom’s side was hunters, Dad was a Men of Letters.” You told him about your history that was somewhat similar to the boys. “However they tried to hide it from me. Obviously didn’t work out too well.” “Yeah, grandparents, mom, dad, truckload of cousins—the whole family was lousy for it, but we...” Dean said, giving the man some background about his and Sam’s family to tell more about himself. While he went on, he found himself trailing off for a moment, finding his attention lingering to the giant man roaming around the room, his heavy footsteps echoing through the place. “never had a golem.”

"Right. Yeah, we grew up in it," Sam said, nodding his head to his brother. "But you didn't?"

“My grandfather’s adventures, the initiative, the golem, the war—they were the stories that he told me when I was a kid. I thought it was make-believe. So did my parents. You know, fantasies to help him cope with all the horrible stuff he’d seen,” Aaron said, giving you and the boys some context  to his own past. It made sense that Aaron would have thought the rambles he heard was nothing more than stories.. Being a survivor from one of the worst genocides in human history, witnessing things that you only learned about from pure evil. “but every once in awhile, crazy old grandpa Bass would come back on one of his trips, hand me a twenty dollar savings bond, and say, ‘One day you’ll inherit the mantle.’

Sure enough, a few days after he died, this big box shows up at my apartment. He always said I'd know what to do, which was crap,” Aaron went on, growing angry as he pointed a finger to the giant that was his responsibility. “because when I opened that box, this big, naked, potato-faced lunatic wakes up and goes crazy!"

“I didn’t…” The golem stopped at the window for a moment to examine the empty parking lot to make sure there was no lurking danger in the darkness of the night. It seemed he would have begged to differ on the harsh words Aaron was speaking about him. "go crazy."

“You trashed my entertainment center!” Aaron shouted. You furrowed your brow slightly at how worked up he was getting about things that could have been easily replaced. Maybe with something better since it wasn't the nineties anymore. “He broke my water bed.”

“This boy knows nothing.” The golem said. It seemed he was growing tired of being spoken down to by the man who should have known more about his religion and took pride in after what his grandfather and others like him went through to freely practice their beliefs. “Observes none of the mitzas, labors on sabbath, dines on swine."

“Everybody loves bacon!” Aaron defended himself against judgement.

“He’s no rabbi. Yifalchunbee!" The giant shouted a word that didn't sound German from the words that you remembered, it had to Hebrew. A language you knew nothing about. Aaron seemed to understand somewhat of what it meant when he rolled his eyes, muttering about how he didn't want to start with this again. The golem didn't listen as he repeated himself to try and get through to the younger man." Yifalchunbee!”

“Enough! Please!” Aaron shouted once more in annoyance. “Quiet time!”

The golem stared down at the man before he went back to pacing around the motel. You let out a sigh from how well none of this was going for any of you. “All right. What was that?” The younger Winchester asked. “What was he saying?”

"It's Hebrew for something like 'take charge,' but I have no idea what he means." Aaron admitted to all of you. He was in the dark about all of this much as you and the boys were. "Look, I grew up in Short Hills, I cheated my way through Hebrew school. I never really listened to my grandfather, what he was saying."

"So, wait—he just sends you this golem," Dean began speaking, but dropped his voice to a more quieter tone when he noticed the very man he was talking about cross through the small living room area. "And expects you to work it out?"

“He didn’t get much chance to prepare me, I guess. My parents—they did everything they could to prevent him from screwing me up with all his crazy talk.” Aaron said. “See, after the war, my grandfather spent the rest of his life trying to track down something he called the thule society.”

“The thule society. Right." Sam said, recognizing the name. "They were Nazis."

You and Dean looked over at one another when you realized how this connected to what the two college girls you were speaking to earlier today about the hate group. "Nazi necromancers."

“N-necro-who?” Aaron asked, stuttering out the word he heard you mention.

“Necromancer—witches, sorcerers, dark magic, mostly with dead people.” You explained to him in more of a definition with the word that he would understand

"Okay." Aaron muttered to himself, not sure if he really knew what was going on here and how the two went together. "All I know about the thule is that they were this twisted, secret fraternity hell-bent on world domination, that sponsored the early days of the Nazi party. My grandfather said the judah initiative was started to fight them.”

"And the thule murdered your grandfather, boy.” The giant said, putting the pieces together himself from the knowledge he knew. “Find them so I can do my work!"

You weren't the type of person that scared easily considering the things you've seen in your time of hunting. But an almost seven foot tall person with arms bigger than your head made you a little jumpy. Without warning, the golem smashed a table into pieces slamming his fist down. His outburst made you jump slightly in the air as you subconsciously reached out a hand to grab a hold of Dean's arm, as if the giant was about to attack all of you. When you made sure that he went back on his way of roaming around the place, you calmed down slightly and composed yourself back to somewhat normal.

"Hey! Hey! We're renting here! Renting." Aaron shouted at the golem to try and get him to calm down so he wouldn't be spending any more money than he had to replace things. He let out a sigh and began rubbing his forehead out of frustration. "Look...I think the golem's right. My grandfather-- he left me this message on my machine the day he died, and he said that he had found something that the thule were willing to kill him for. He said he was hiding it here in plain sight."

Aaron pulled something out of his back pocket that appeared to be a folded up post-it note. "He left me this weird—I don't know—equation. It's not a phone number or an address or coordinates--Q-L-6-7-3-W-8?"

Dean grabbed the piece of paper from the man to see if he might be able to figure it out for himself about what it could have been. His guess was a combination, when you looked over to see what it might have been, it took a second before you realized what the letters and numbers really meant. And where you could use this information for your own benefit.

“Oh, it's a call number. Library of Congress—their filing system, they use it in college libraries. Uh, Q-L-6-7-3—that's...sciences.” You started thinking out loud about what the rabbi wanted his grandson to see and where it was stashed. When you thought back to the last bit of research he did at the college, you looked over at the younger Winchester. “Wait, Sammy. Didn’t you say the last thing Isaac checked out was bird watching?”

When Sam nodded his head, you felt your lips stretching into a victorious smirk as you snatched the paper out of the older Winchester’s hand to hold onto. You didn’t even say anything else to give the men a clue of what you were thinking about. You pushed yourself up to your feet and made your way out of the place, heading to the Impala to make a quick stop at your own motel to change clothes and then to the college library. That’s where you found find the research that caused Isaac Bass’ life.

[Next Part]

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester @everything-i-tried-was-taken@starswirlblitz @albot-e @supernaturalismydrug @we-are-band-sexuals@angiewinchestercas@kaylinfayezink @owhatshername1 @kgbrenner  @cleo-is-my-doggy@eeyore1988 @dakota-dream @lilylovelyxo@timetravelingginger@holahellohialoha  @quicksilver123456@natashacamillaus @lexi-anastasia @kaylinfayezink @deanwnchstr @albot-eh@yelloweyedwriter@rashinyx2002 @shellybeans @icantfindacreativeurl@becs-bunker @oreosatmidnight @bands-and-shietz @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear @clarewinchester@releasethekracko@alex-zeppelin @mega-mrs-dean-winchester@theskytraveler @1000roughdrafts @notmoose94 @assassinofmasyaf@caswinchester2000 @savannah-m-99 @sunlight-dean @strayrosesbloom@that-slytherin-over-there

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[lovinnscarletknight]

The Gap Year [1]

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 2054

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, some sex mentions I guess??

Summary: People who are the most difficult to please are often the least worth pleasing.

Finally packing the last box, you looked around your now empty dorm room. It was crazy to you that you had lived here for two years and never realised how disgusting the paint colour was, why did you ever decide on pink? It wasn’t even a nice pink and you regretted forcing Harrison, Tom and Harry to paint it for you, Sam having some random excuse. After all, Charlotte was only twelve at the time and letting her decide what colour your room should be felt like the least you could do after leaving her with a million men at home. You and Charlotte had always had a good relationship, you two being the only girls out of the Holland’s and your family, the Osterfield’s; however, neither of you would have it any other way. Altogether you had managed to pack four boxes and two suitcases, it wasn’t bad considering this was all your belongings, Liam, your fiancée, had convinced you to chuck a load of stuff out and only keep the vital things, this meant you could buy new things when you went back home. Looking at your room one last time, you shut the door crossing your arms over your chest and walking out the house to find Liam leaning against his car; he smiled when he saw you.

“You ready baby?” You sighed heavily resting in between his legs, his eyes looking for yours. You had been dating Liam for a year and a half now, he was your first serious boyfriend and you were worried what your family would think of him; of course your mother was a bit unsure but she didn’t care as long as you were happy. He was a straight A student, had a wonderful personality, gorgeous but sometimes his mood swings got the better of him. Of course, he would never dare lay a finger on you, but some days you questioned it. You had both gotten into countless arguments and most of the time he started them, but you always apologised; that’s just how it was. He proposed on your one-year anniversary, the both of you just clicked and you didn’t see yourself marrying anyone else. Of course, you knew you were both young, twenty-two was extremely young, but it was love.

“Take me home” His lips quickly found yours and you stretched up onto your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips. It would take a couple of hours to get home, but you were ecstatic to see your family again. You facetimed Charlotte three times a week to catch up with her and all the gossip of being a fifteen-year-old girl, you regretted missing her birthdays. Charlotte was the definition of beautiful. She had gorgeous blonde-brown hair, very similar to yours, yet hers was long and wavy complementing her slim figure. You were curvier but also slim, something you had worked very hard towards, it wasn’t because you thought you were large, it was more to make yourself happy and healthy and you were. You and Charlotte had the same eyes and face structure, you were just a couple of inches taller. Harrison was much taller than you and Charlotte, it was like beautiful ran throughout your family, everyone had always congratulated your mother and father on the three of you.

When your father passed away three years ago, everyone was affected and although it caused heartbreak through your family, it brought you all closer. You didn’t really talk about your father a lot as you two never had a very good relationship but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss him. Your entire world revolved around your family, they were the most important people to you, and that included the Holland’s. Harrison, Tom and you had been friends for seventeen years now which was insane, but once your friends with one Holland, your friends with them all. Sam, Harry and Paddy were like little brothers to you and even though sometimes it feels like your life is overran with boys, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It’s a left up here” You spoke nervously playing with the loose threads on your jumper. You didn’t really know why you were feeling so nervous, they were your family. Maybe it was because they were meeting Liam for the first time? Or maybe because you hadn’t seen them in two years and were suddenly going to be there every day? Or maybe-

“Babe, I can hear you overthinking. Chill out, they are your family and I can guarantee you they are so excited to see you ok?” Liam grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles, “Number 4?” Your breath caught in your throat when you saw your old home. It was just how you remembered it, “You didn’t tell me you lived in a mansion, jheez” You laughed playfully poking his chest.

“This was my grandparents house before it was ours, and it’s not as huge as it looks, it’s a good amount of space for us and the Holland’s” Liam knew about your friendship with the Holland family. He was a bit hesitant to begin with but who wouldn’t be when your best friend is famous and ridiculously attractive. You obviously weren’t blind, you knew Tom was attractive and maybe that’s why Liam was anxious to meet him; you weren’t sure why thought because Liam was gorgeous, and he was the man you were going to marry. He was tall, and dark curly hair along with beautiful blue eyes. Liam was fawned over by many girls which bothered you but, after all, he had chosen you.

Liam parked the car in the drive, your eyes meeting his, “Ready?” He nodded opening his door. You adjusted your denim skirt and pulled your jacket tight around your bare arms regretting wearing a cropped vest, at least your hair was down covering your neck. There was a chilly breeze which hit your legs making you visibly sigh in discomfort, Liam grabbed your hand, kissing the back of it to try and calm you down, sending a small bit of warmth through you. Your family were unaware of you coming today, you told them you’d be home at some point this week and couldn’t wait to surprise them today. You knocked on the wooden front door, you unaware sister opening the door.

“Y/N!” She screamed jumping on you and hugging you tightly. Charlotte had grown a couple of inches, yet you managed to just be taller. Charlotte pulled away, happy tears filled her eyes as your mother came racing around the corner to see what all the commotion was about, “Mum look!” You smiled shyly at her before she wrapped her arms around you. You had missed her more than words could describe and barely seeing her on your and Charlotte’s facetime calls killed you.

“My god, how could you have gotten even more beautiful?” Your mum brushed your hair out of your face and smiled widely, “And this must be the famous boyfriend – sorry fiancée?” You stood back and gestured to Liam.

“This is Liam Scofield, Liam this is my mum, Phil, and my sister, Charlotte” Liam easily accepted your mothers hug and Charlotte waved. You all ended up in the living room after the women fawning over the engagement that sat on your finger, a steaming cup of tea in your hand to warm you up even though the heating was luxurious. Charlotte was leant against your shoulder, one of your hands running through her long hair, Liam sat in your father’s old arm chair and your mum sat in hers.

“So, where’s Haz?” You asked sipping your tea and looking at her. Since Harrison was your twin, you had missed him the most. Obviously, you missed everyone, but Harrison was different. He always knew how to cheer you up and what you needed. Your mum smiled as she checked her watch.

“He should be back anytime now, he’s been at Tom’s all day doing god knows what” Liam didn’t seem fazed by the mention of Tom’s name. You weren’t sure how they would get along and you were slightly worried, “They are actually all coming over this evening for a catch up, I haven’t seen the boys in a couple weeks, we’ll order takeout and get some drinks. Little celebration for you being back” You nodded smiling before casual conversation between Liam and your mother continued and you relaxed into the sofa which you had spent so many nights drunk on, but nobody needed to know that.

About half an hour later, the front door opened, the sound of loud chatter and laughter could be heard. You smiled widely before standing up and hiding behind the living room door, Charlotte recording on her phone. Harrison soon came around the corner and flopped on the sofa next to your younger sister not realising anything. You took this as a perfect opportunity to sit on his back, Harrison letting out a groan.

“Who ever you are, get off me” He groaned as you continued to prod him.

“Even your favourite person?” Harrison quickly sat up causing you to fall off and hit the floor laughing, “Jheez Haz, that’s the way you welcome me home?” Harrison jumped up picking you up by your arms and grabbed you into a hug. His arms held you tightly, close to him and he was laughing, “I missed you too Haz, but I also need to breathe” He slowly loosened his grip before looking down at you. Harrison had always been taller than you and you almost forgot how much taller he really was. You both were considered identical twins, apart from you obviously being a girl, you shared dazzling blue eyes, perfect smiles and very similar face structure, the only difference being your hair was much darker than his.

“When did you get back?” He asked, the smile not leaving his face, “Nikki and Dom are in the kitchen, Tom and the others will be here soon, they went to get some food” Charlotte quickly announced that she was going to her room, you kissed her head as she left.

“A couple hours ago, I’m so happy to be back! Liam came too, do you reckon they’re grilling him in the kitchen? Oh God, this was a mistake” Harrison furrowed his brows before grabbing your arms gently.

“I’m sure everything is fine. If he’s with you, clearly, he’s a great guy. Now I should go give him the talk, since you’re marrying the lad and I’ve never met him” You laughed before shaking your head, “What? You’re my little sister, he needs to know the rules Y/N”

“I’m not little, you were born three minutes before me grandpa” He gasped being fake hurt before you ran off into the kitchen where Nikki, Dom, Liam and your mother were chatting; you spotted Liam and you quickly made your way over to him kissing him on the cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“There’s the lady of the hour!” You turned to see Nikki and Dom smiling widely at you and you smiled back before walking over to hug them. Nikki and Dom had been like second parents to you. When ever your father passed away, they opened up there home for you, Harrison and Charlotte so your mother could have some time to herself. Nikki also loved having you around since she had four boys and no girls, when you spent the day, it allowed her to connect with someone else who could understand more.

“Wow, I didn’t think someone could get any more gorgeous! You look so well, and you’re engaged! Liam here was just talking to us about your crazy diet you went on?” You raised an eyebrow at her as she cupped the side of your face and admired the ring.

“Thanks Nikki. It wasn’t crazy, it was just to help me get to a place where I was happy with myself and it worked. How have you been?” You chatted with Dom and Nikki for a while, your mother watching smiling as she drank her tea and Liam’s arm remained around your waist. Nikki was interrupted by the door opening again and more people appeared in the kitchen.

Specifically, the Holland brothers.

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

Hopefully the next part will be up on Monday! It’s the beginning of a roller coaster and I cannot wait for you guys to come along! I’ll make a tag list if people are interested? Let me know :) 

[cocomaxley]

Chance at Love

Chance at Love Chapter 8 - Rashad x Greysen(OC)

Synopsis: Greysen James is an attorney that had to do everything on her own. After years of hard work, she finally made it. She didn’t take time for herself let alone time to date. One fateful day, on her way to her best friend’s wedding in a small Mediterranean country called Cordonia, that all changed.

Some notes: This is sort of an AU. It would take place at the beginning of Book 3 when Liam x Anitah (MC) are engaged. Anitah will often call her Greys (pronounced like Grace). I have never written fanfic or anything outside of school/work documents, so please be gentle.

Warnings: Implied smut and implied NSFW. So if you’re under 18, please look away. I don’t want messages from your mommy and daddy.

Word Count: 1,632

Tag List: @ao719 @leelee10898 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject @katurrade @riseandshinelittleblossom @bobasheebaby @brightpinkpeppercorn @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @blackwidow2721 @fullbeaumonty @liamxs-world @stopforamoment @krsnlove @alexpottrechoices

The wedding goes off without a hitch. Anitah is the picture perfect bride, and Greysen couldn't be happier for her best friend. After she helps load Anitah and her dress into the carriage, the bride and groom leave the cathedral. Rashad pulls her into a waiting limo. Alicia, Pam, Drake and Leo are already inside the vehicle along with another couple she hasn't met yet.

Leo makes the necessary introductions, “Greysie meet Maxwell and his wife Stephanie, Max and Steph, meet Greysie, Anitah’s best friend.”

Maxwell is bouncing in his seat like a little kid on his way to the zoo, “Aw yeah! This is going to be Beaumont Wedding Bash 2K18!”

Greysen turns to Rashad confused. He and Stephanie both just shake their heads. She giggles understanding she will likely learn what this means later tonight.

Leo rubs his hands together and says, “Let the party begin, ladies and gents!”

He pulls out four bottles of champagne from the limo fridge and hands one to each of the men. They pop the corks and fill the ladies’ glasses. The group clinks their glasses and downs their drinks.

They are arrive at the palace and make their way into the ballroom. It is beautifully decorated in wine and navy colors to match the men’s tuxedos and the ladies’ mermaid style dresses. The navy blue three tier cake with deep red flowers and gold accents sits on a table in the middle of the room.

They take their seats at the head table as dinner service starts. More drinks are poured and Greysen clinks her glass with her fork, winking at Anitah as Liam leans in to kiss her.

Maxwell’s eyes widen and he says, “Ooh, let's play a drinking game! Every time someone clinks their glass for them to kiss, we all take a drink!”

Drake groans and Pam sympathetically pats his hand. Rashad raises his glass and drinks in acknowledgment. Greysen does the same, understanding that Beaumont Wedding Bash 2K18 has just begun.

Alicia nods her head and says, “This sounds like a horrible idea, let's do it!”

Leo just smiles. The last time Greysen saw that smile, she paid the price with the worst hangover the next day. The next thing she knows, Maxwell has clinked his glass 4 times in a matter of minutes before Drake rips the fork out of his hand.

Maxwell whines, “Awww come on, Drake!” As he reaches for his spoon. Drake quickly yanks that out of his hand and removes any silverware within Maxwell’s reach.

Stephanie giggles, “You know that'll just motivate him more, Drake.”

All of a sudden the group hears someone tapping on a microphone, “Ladies and gentlemen of the court, please join me in clinking your glasses so the royal couple can kissssss!”

The group breaks out in laughter as people start tapping their glasses. Anitah and Liam share a deep kiss, smiling at each other as they pull apart.

It's time to cut the cake, the happy couple cuts their slice of cake and Liam puts the fork gently into Anitah’s mouth. Greysen’s eyes widen when she sees the mischievous look on her friend’s face. Anitah takes a handful of cake and smashes it all over her unsuspecting husband’s face.

Liam laughs, “Oh, so you want to play, huh?” He grabs his own handful and smears cake on her face. She's completely surprised at his retaliation and starts throwing cake at him. Liam picks up a napkin to shield himself from the flying dessert as he returns fire.

Bastien walks towards the king, unsure if he needs to step in. He thinks about it before walking back towards the door resuming his post. Stephanie has to maintain a tight grip on Maxwell's suit jacket to keep him from jumping into the fray.

Regina is so shocked at her step-son’s antics, “Liam! Anitah! Show some decorum!”

As she continues to clutch her chest, both of them are doubled over with laughter completely covered in cake. Their white clothing streaked with blue and gold frosting. They quickly excuse themselves to clean up.

Drake and Pam head to the bar and Alicia and Leo slip out of the ballroom. Rashad takes her hand and leads her onto the dance floor. He holds her close and she rests her head on his shoulder. He leans down and places a soft sweet kiss on her lips. She smiles at him. What did she do to deserve this man?

As they're dancing, she notices Madeleine and Kiara shooting daggers in her direction. She gives Madeleine a wicked grin and a wink, pulling Rashad down into a passionate kiss that he eagerly returns.

After what seemed like forever, Anitah and Liam finally return to the ballroom looking flushed and giggly, their hair a mess. Leo and Alicia slip back into the ballroom shortly after, both looking just as giggly adjusting their disheveled clothes.

The emcee announces that its time for the bouquet and garter toss. The ladies line up, Greysen, Pam and Stephanie are standing to the side of the crowd not participating in this particular tradition. At the front is Kiara, Penelope, Madeleine and Alicia. Anitah turns around so her back is facing the crowd and throws the bouquet into the air. Alicia trips Penelope and pushes Kiara out of the way so she and Madeleine are the only two battling for the flowers.

“Over my dead body, Maddie!” Alicia screams as she elbows her right in the face and triumphantly catches the bouquet.

Leo watches proudly as his girlfriend takes down the three noble ladies until he realizes she's holding the bouquet in her hand. He swallows hard and pulls at his collar with his finger.

Liam takes his place in front of the single men and turns around launching the garter behind him. All of the men, except for an unknowing Leo, take three steps out of the way and the lacy garter lands directly on Leo’s boutineer. Liam turns around and bursts into laughter, “Bullseye, brother!”

Leo stands in the middle of the dancefloor completely dumbfounded at what just happened. Drake walks over and claps him on the shoulder.

“Looks like you're next buddy!” Drake chuckles as he makes his way back to his wife.

The party goes late into the evening, drinks flowing non-stop. The men go to the bar leaving the ladies together. Greysen hears someone clearing their throat behind her. The ladies turn and see Madeleine. Pam immediately rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.

“A true queen would never act so barbaric during a special wedding tradition. The cake cutting is symbolic between husband and wife”, Madeleine says with an evil smirk.

Greysen smiles at her, “Maddie, why are you such a bitch? Do you really think you're that much better than everyone? Even though you've been turned down by the three most eligible men in your own country, to fun American women.”

Madeleine looks affronted and is about to retort when the men return from the bar. Rashad wraps his arm around Greysen’s waist.

“Countess Madeleine, I recall telling you to leave my girlfriend alone. It seems that was unnecessary since she had no problem putting you in your place”, Rashad says with a chuckle, “I believe Lord Neville is still looking for a marriage prospect. You two would be quite the pair. Now, please excuse us.”

He quickly leads Greysen away from the group and out of the ballroom. Once they're down an empty hallway, he pins her up against a wall and captures her mouth in a heated kiss. She grabs the front of his shirt to keep him from pulling away.

“Rashad”, Greysen moans breathlessly as he kisses her neck.

He responds a low tone, “Tell me what you want, Greys.”

“You, I want you.” She pulls him into another kiss.

Just then Pam and Drake enter the same hallway, Pam pinning Drake against the wall.

“You like that, Walker?” Pam purrs.

Drake notices they aren't alone and tries to grasp his wife’s roaming hands, “Pam, stop. We aren't alone. PAM!”

She opens a door and quickly pulls Drake into the room. Rashad groans, resting his forehead against hers. Greysen giggles at his frustration, “Come on lover boy, we can't leave until Anitah and Liam leave for their honeymoon anyway.”

“I can't wait to get to New York so we can have privacy. Being here is like living with your horny brothers that always have their even hornier girlfriends over”, he grumbles as Greysen continues to laugh.

“Don't worry, baby, I'll make up for it later” she whispers in his ear, pulling him in for one last kiss. He growls before he melts into the kiss.

At the end of the night, the crowd of people thin out. Maxwell is the still dancing and Stephanie has her head laying on the table.

Alicia and Leo have disappeared again. Pam and Drake were just making their way back into the ballroom. Anitah runs up to Greysen and pulls her into a big hug.

“Thank you for being here, Greys. This past month has been amazing!”

“Aw, Nita, thank you for asking me to come. I missed you!”

Anitah releases her and turns to Rashad, pulling him into a hug, “Take care of her please. She means the world to me.”

Rashad smiles at her and kisses her cheek, “I will, I promise. She is my world.”

Anitah and Liam bid everyone a final farewell as they head to the airport to leave for their honeymoon. Rashad puts his arm around Greysen’s shoulders and starts walking back into the palace.

“Now… I believe you made me a promise” he smirks at her.

“I believe I did”, she giggles as they make their way back to her room.

[ask-omegaverse-bangtan]

Jaehyun's Backstory

(Warning: very slight child abuse)

*Buk-Gu, Daegu, South Korea; 1996*

“You are almost there Ms. Min! Just a little bit further! One last push will do it!” a doctor yells to the woman on the bed and looks at the nurse holding her hand. The woman screams as she pushes, stopping only when a loud cry is heard.

“It’s a boy Ms. Min! You have a son,” the doctor says as he the baby off to be cleaned by a different nurse. When the child is cleaned off and is wrapped in a blanket, he is handed to his mother who cradles him gently.

“Any thoughts on a name ma’am?” the nurse asks, holding a birth certificate in her hands.

“Jaehyun…..lee Jaehyun,” the new mother says, smiling at the child in her arms. As the day goes on, people come and see the new mother and child then three people, two adults and a toddler, comes into the room. The woman on the bed smiles seeing them and watches as the other woman puts the small child on the bed with her.

“Goodness, he is gorgeous. What did you name him Nahyun?” the standing woman asks, cooing at the tiny baby. The woman on the bed, Nahyun, smiles and gently rubs her baby’s cheek with her finger.

“His name is Lee Jaehyun,” she says, looking up from the child then loses her smiles seeing the look on the man’s face.

“You gave him the last name of that man? Why?” the man questions, trying to keep his anger controlled for the, now, two children in the room.

“Because jaehyun has the right to have the last name of his father, oppa. Why can’t you understand that?” Nahyun says, her eyes becoming cold at the words.

“You’re only 20 and now a single mother! Do you have any idea how bad that makes our family look?!” the man yells, moving closer to the bed where the young woman is lying.

“I don’t care if it brings our family shame! I love my son and i WILL take care of him!” the woman yells and all the adults still at the loud crying coming from the tiny baby. Nahyun holds her child and rocks him gently to calm him down then looks up and glares at the man.

“I would like you to leave, oppa. Just you,” she says with bitterness in her voice and watches as the man leaves the room angry.

“I am sorry about him Nahyun. I am sure he didn’t mean that,” the other woman says and looks at the toddler as he crawls to the baby, “Yoongi, what are you doing?”

The toddler, Yoongi, looks at the baby and sits back with his arms open as if to say he wants to hold the small child. Nahyun smiles and helps the small child hold the baby then watches the toddler’s eyes sparkle.

“That’s your little cousin, Yoongi. He’ll need you and your hyung to protect him ok?” Yoongi’s mother says and pats her son’s hair. Yoongi smiles and nods, cradling the baby close to him to keep him safe. The two women smile watching the two in case something happens.

*Buk-Gu, Daegu, South Korea; 2002*

Little bare feet tap against hardwood flooring and a door is pushed open. A tiny body goes into the room and hops on the bed, on top of a figure who is sleeping.

“Mommy, wake up! It’s Jaehyunnie’s birthday!” the tiny child yells, shaking the figure sleeping who only turns, grabbing the child along the way, and cuddles with them.

“Mommy, wake up! I’m being squished!” the little one giggles, wiggling in their mother’s arms. The woman smiles and starts placing kisses all over the child’s face then sits up in the bed.

“Good morning my little Jaehyunnie~. Why are we so excited this morning~?” the woman asks, although she knows the answers then chuckles quietly seeing the small pout form on her child’s lips.

“It’s Jaehyunnie’s birthday mommy. Did you forget?” jaehyun says, still pouting and is scooped into the arms of his mom.

“No, baby. I could never forget my boy’s birthday~. Why don’t we get ready and we’ll go meet auntie, uncle, Junki and Yoongi for breakfast~?” Nahyun questions and smiles as the 6 year old goes to his room. Jaehyun looks through his clothes and pouts trying to find something nice.

“Do you need help Hyunnie?” his mother asks, walking into the room and kneeling down when the child nods, “what about your favorite puppy shirt and some jeans? It is a little chilly so a light jacket as well.”

The 6 year old nods, loving how his mom always knows what to wear and the two finish getting ready together before heading out to the restaurant where they are meeting their family. The young child hops out of the car and holds his mother’s hand tightly as they make their way inside, the aroma of food hitting their noses. “YOONGI HYUNG~!” Jaehyun yells seeing his cousin and he runs into the arms of the other, giggling. The adults and eldest child smile seeing the two hug one another before they all sit down. The youngest child colors on his placement/menu while the adults talk and he swings his little legs back and forth.

“How are things with your boyfriend Nahyun?” Yoongi’s mother asks, sipping on her drink.

“Things are actually wonderful. He loves hearing about Hyunnie……plus we are no longer just dating,” Nahyun says and holds up her hand her left hand to show the engagement ring on her finger. Yoongi’s mother squeals and hugs her sister-in-law while her husband sits in silence, slightly shocked at the news.

“Dear, isn’t that exciting news?” the woman asks, holding the man’s hand with a worried look.

“Will he care for Jaehyun as well? I need to know that not only will you be cared for but your son as well,” Yoongi’s father says, looking at his nephew concerningly. Nahyun pets the boy’s hair and gives a small smile toward her brother.

“He will. Changmin loves Jaehyun just as much as he does me,” the woman says and looks at the menu.

*Months later*

Jaehyun runs around the park with his cousins, giggling and he turns hearing his name.

“Hyunnie, come take pictures now~!” Nahyun yells and waves her son over. She smiles as the 6 year old runs to her and she hugs him close while her new husband walks up. They stand together as the photographer takes pictures of them.

“I’ll be right back Hyunnie. Stay here with Changmin ok?” the woman says and kisses both of their cheeks while she walks over to the bathroom. Jaehyun looks up at his stepfather and tries to hold his hand, but is surprised when it is pulled away.

“Listen here; do not touch me with those dirty hands of yours. Just stay in my line of sight kid,” Changmin says and moves slightly away from the 6 year old. The child looks down and feels a hand on top of his head causing him to look up.

“Do you wanna play at a table Hyunnie?” Yoongi asks his cousin who nods and the 6 year old keeps his hands to himself until the 9 year old grabs it, “come on Hyunnie.”

Nahyun walks out of the restroom and looks to see her husband but not her son which worries her. She walks over to the man talking to his relatives and places a hand on his shoulder making him turn around.

“Honey, where is Hyunnie? Wasn’t he supposed to be with you?” she asks, clearly worried and looking around. “I haven’t seen him,” Changmin says and goes back to talking, making his wife slightly mad. She walks away and hears her son’s giggle then follows it to the source. Nahyun stops and smiles seeing the two kids playing a game together at a table.

“Hi mommy~! Hyunggie is playing with me~!” Jaehyun says noticing his mother and giggles as his hair is ruffled by his cousin. 

*Buk-Gu, Daegu, South Korea; 2006*

“Jaehyunnie, it’s time to get up for school~!” Nahyun yells and walks into her son’s room. She smiles seeing a lump on a bed and she sits down on the said bed. The woman begins to tickle said lump and giggles seeing it spring up from the bed.

“Good morning Hyunnie~” the woman says and leans down the best she can to kiss her son’s forehead. Jaehyun pouts but hugs his mom and rubs her belly.

“Morning mommy, morning baby,” the 10 year old says, still tired from sleep and he goes over to the dresser to get ready for the day. His mother smiles and leaves to go get things ready for him for breakfast. Nahyun looks up from the cupboard when a hand rests on her hip and she smiles seeing her husband standing there.

“Good morning Changmin,” she says and kisses his cheek while turning back to getting the cereal out.

“Morning,” he says back and slowly pours a cup of coffee so he doesn’t spill the contents on to the counter. Jaehyun walks down the stairs in his school uniform and he goes to the kitchen to help his mom finish the breakfast prep. The 10 year old grabs the milk form the fridge and sets it carefully on the counter near his mom.

“Thank you Hyunnie~. Go sit and I’ll bring your food out~” Nahyun says and smiles as the child goes to sit down at the table.

*later on that day*

Jaehyun walks into the house after a long day at school and he sets his backpack in the spot he normally does then goes to the kitchen to get something to drink. He grabs a small bottle of water and carefully opens it so it doesn’t spill. The 10 year old starts taking a sip when, all of a sudden, he trips over his socked feet and tumbles to the ground, his water spilling everywhere. Before the child gets up to clean the spill, the front door opens and Changmin walks in then sees the 10 year old on the floor next to the puddle of water.

“What have you done!?” the man yells and rushes over to the child then harshly grabs the boy’s arm and pulls him up, “why did you spill this?!”

“I-it was an accident! I-I fell!” jaehyun cries and struggles against his stepfather’s grip, knowing it will bruise later. Changmin pulls the child to his room and throws him inside while growling angrily.

“You are not to come out until I say so!” the man yells and slams the door shut. The 10 year old gets onto his bed and hugs his pillow tightly while sobbing. The next time he wakes up, he feels a hand petting his hair and he looks up to see his mom then hugs her tightly with fresh tears falling. Nahyun holds her child close and rubs his back, worried about why the boy is sobbing like he is.

*2 weeks later*

Jaehyun grabs a stool and sits on it as he looks up at his mother who is reading over a recipe.

“You ready to make dinner Hyunnie~?” Nahyun asks then smiles seeing her son nod his head excitedly and they start cooking. As the two finish up plating the food, the door opens and Changmin walks in then freezes seeing the mess in the kitchen with Jaehyun putting a pan into the sink to let it soak.

“Hi honey. Dinner is just about done,” the woman says and goes to kiss his cheek but is shocked when he moves past her toward the 10 year old.

“What the hell did you do you brat!? How dare you make a mess of my beautiful kitchen!” Changmin yells, furious and he begins to hit the child in front of his wife. Nahyun’s eyes widen and she rushes over to the man, despite her big belly.

“Changmin stop it! He is only a child!” she yells and tries to pull her husband away.

“Shut up!” the man yells and pushes her back, slamming her against the wall behind them.

“M-mommy!” jaehyun yells and is slapped by his stepfather.

“Shut up you brat! Why were you even born if all you do is make messes!?” Changmin snarls and he continues to hit the 10 year old. All of a sudden, the man is pushed off the child and they look to see an angry Yoongi standing there.

“Don’t you dare hurt my aunt and cousin again!” the 13 year old screams and starts attacking his step-uncle again. Nahyun grabs Yoongi and jaehyun then rushes out of the house toward her car and drives off.

*At the hospital*

Yoongi sits in the room with his aunt and cousin, scowling and he gets up from the chair when the door opens and a police officer walks in with his parents right behind him. The 13 year old hugs his mother and looks back as he is taken out to be questioned by a different officer.

“Mrs. Jung, do you think you could explain what happened?” the officer asks sitting next to the bed where the woman was lying in.

“i-I don’t know. My son and I were making dinner when my husband came home. He saw the mess and started hitting my son,” Nahyun says, tears falling down her face as she looks over at the other bed where her 10 year old child is sleeping with bandages on his face and right arm and a sling on his left arm.

“Mrs. Jung, we won’t let your husband come near the three of you. You have my word,” the officer says and offers a small smile as he leaves. The woman looks over at her child again while rubbing her pregnant belly.

“I will protect both of you. I swear it on my life,” she says and closes her eyes trying to get some rest.

*Seoul, South Korea; October 2017*

Jaehyun opens his eyes and looks around the room. The 21 year old sits up in his bed and rubs his eyes then hears the loud, annoying ringing of his cell phone. He picks it up and answers the video call.

“Hey mom,” he says and gives a smile at the woman on the phone. “Hi Hyunnie, how is Seoul treating you? Have you made any friends yet?” Nahyun asks from her end and gives her child a smile. Jaehyun smiles more and begins telling her about all the people he has made friends with. The woman smiles contently knowing her eldest child is well protected and well taken care of.

“I gotta go get ready for lunch with the hyungs mama. I will call you and Channie later. I love you~” the 21 year old says and smiles brightly, sending a kiss to the woman before hanging up. Nahyun smiles to herself and looks at the picture she has saved as her background, which is a picture of her and Jaehyun on his 14th birthday which is when the boy told his mom that he like dressing into female clothing and that he liked boys. 

“I love you too Jaehyunnie. Happy birthday my beautiful baby boy,” she says to the phone and kisses the picture.

[katdvs]

Lucas Friar moved back to Texas at 17, now he’s running for Mayor of Rosewood Springs so best friend Zay and little sister Gigi decide he needs a little help from a political consultant.

Riley Matthews found her calling, she found a fiancé, but she never expected to find herself here, of all places.

Cross-posted to FF.net | Soundtrack

-the moon that moves your tides- | -basics of you and me- | -rather hurt than feel nothing at all- | -taste of love oh bittersweet- | -time to face my weakness- | -you do what you do- | -a place you belong-

Author Note: Why do you all think Lucas doesn’t remember Las Vegas? Also, since I hit 1000 followers on Tumblr (seriously that is mind-blowing to me), I’m doing a little fanfic giveaway. You can find out more about it here.

-the one I want for life-

Lucas knocked on the guest room door, when Riley opened it he felt that pickup of his heartbeat that happened every single time he saw her. God, he wished that would stop, and yet he didn’t want it to. It wasn’t fair, “Um, are you done with my phone?”

“Oh yeah, just finished. Um Facebook, Twitter were easy, you barely use them. Instagram was surprising.” She put the phone in his hand, afraid to touch his skin but feeling the heat shoot through her body when her finger tips grazed his palm.

“What was surprising?”

“Um just that you didn’t have pictures of you with a bunch of girls, actually the only girls on your entire feed are your Mom, Gigi, and then Maya, Smackle…”

“And you.” He looked down at the phone, “See I’m not a total asshole.”

“Did you delete pictures from high school, from parties you attended already?” She had to know.

“I never posted party pictures.” Lucas slapped his phone against his hand, “The only time those ever made it onto my feed would be when Dixie would steal my phone and post them. I would try and go delete them later.”

“But they would be pictures of girls all over you, wouldn’t they?”

“Maybe I don’t remember, that was ages ago Ri would that really matter?”

Yes, it would! She wanted to scream but instead Riley shrugged, “We need to set up social media for the campaign, and then um, we need to really sit down and talk strategy.”

“And not about the women who have sucked my dick right?” He was sure her eyes drifted down his body, no he was imagining it. “Yeah, Zay and Gigi already went to the bar for the night, since well it’s Saturday, um I’m going to grill that chicken I put in to marinate earlier. You can join me of course, I mean why wouldn’t you unless, you want to go hang out at the bar until like three am.”

“Dinner with you sounds fine, besides we have cake.” Her heart was fluttering as she took a step back from him, “Maya says hello.”

“I’m sure she does.”

“No, really, she does.” She slipped her phone into her back pocket, “How about you do the chicken, I’ll get us some sides.”

“That would be wonderful.” He moved away from the door so she could come out, “Have you, um, talked to Dave yet?”

“Not yet, it’s Saturday he’ll be out on his boat, no phone until tomorrow.”

“He’s a boat guy huh?”

“Yeah, well he got into it a few years ago, when he joined his firm.” Riley shrugged, she didn’t really enjoy going out on the boat, she always ended up seasick.

“You and Dave, that just seems weird to me.” Lucas confessed as they went down the stairs. “I mean I could’ve seen you and Charlie.”

“And I can still hear the distaste for him in your voice, but he married Maya.”

“That oddly makes sense.” Lucas stopped at the bottom of the stairs, “How about while we prepare dinner you get me caught up on everyone back in New York; even Maya.”

“I can do that, or at least try. I’m sure you know some things.”

Lucas shrugged, “Zay is closer to all of you now, somehow I came back here and lost hold of all of you.”

“I’m sure Gloria Maya and Dixie tried to fill that void just fine.”

Lucas couldn’t help but catch something in her voice, was that it? No, it couldn’t be that. She wouldn’t be jealous of two girls who he never did anything with—okay he made out with Gloria May once and then she’d slapped him when he moaned Riley’s name.

“So, what can I get for you tonight Dixie?” Zay looked at the woman with blonde hair as she gave him that smile, he figured she thought it was sexy, flirty, but something always unsettled him about it.

“I see you left the Doc at home tonight, so I guess I’ll just take one of those cosmos they drink on TV.” She let her eyes travel over Zay, he was cute, but he was no Lucas Friar, no Lucas had been her goal since he moved back to Texas in high school a goal she was sure she was close to achieving.

“Lucas is at home, with an old friend.” Zay started to mix the drink for her, “You know I don’t think I’ve seen anyone drink a cosmopolitan on TV since we were kids.”

Dixie gave him a dirty look, “So an old friend, that Farkle guy in town?”

“Nope, Riley, his first and only girlfriend.” Gigi moved next to Zay grabbing a few beers from the tub in front of him, “Dixie you look a little green.”

“What is his ex-girlfriend doing visiting?” she put her cash on the bar when Zay put her drink down.

“Well, Riley is visiting Lucas for a while. They’ve reconnected, and this was the perfect time in her work schedule to get down here.” Gigi explained while Zay moved to another customer, “You look a little green, sure you don’t want some water?”

“Oh, well, will she be here for the Fourth of July dance?” Dixie thought to the tight red dress she planned to wear, she had a plan to get Lucas once and for all that night.

Gigi smiled, “Of course she will, Riley is going to be around for the foreseeable future.”

“Wonderful,” Dixie tried to hide her frown, “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“I’m sure the pleasure will be all yours when you do.” Gigi smiled as Dixie walked away with her drink.

Zay came over behind her, “What did you just do?’

“Well at the very least I got my big brother a reprieve from Dixie for a little while, or I just gave Riley the best excuse to stick around Texas and forget all about Dave.”

Zay shook his head, “Her and Lucas reconnecting? How is that going to make her stick around? They’re going to kill you.”

Gigi smirked, “Trust me Zay, they might be mad, but come on, she needs to stay right?” She turned to look at him, feeling that weird energy she’d been trying to ignore for she didn’t even know how long now, Worst comes to worst Riley leaves, and if she does Lucas will chase after her this time.”

“What makes you so sure?” Zay felt as if he was missing a piece of Gigi’s puzzle, how could she be so sure?

“Because I’ll drag him to New York myself if I must.” She grabbed her order book before going back out to check on her customers.

Zay shook his head, he could’ve stopped her, but he didn’t, he at the very least did enjoy watching how unsettled Dixie was at hearing that Riley was in town.

Riley was setting the table for two when she looked out the window to see Lucas on the back patio manning the grill. She closed her eyes for a moment, giving herself just a small little time to fantasize, thinking of kids running around the backyard.

She blinked when she saw him turn towards the window, giving him a small wave before she continued with her task. Though as she moved around the kitchen she couldn’t help but wonder if he had thoughts like hers.

No probably not.

He stood her up.

He is the reason why it wasn’t a reality.

She had to get him set up with his campaign as quickly as possible or she was going to end up with broken heart, which she knew was trouble since she was engaged to someone else.

Dave was a good man, he loved her, okay maybe not as much as corn chips or his boat, but he loved her. He wanted to marry her, have a family, settle down.

Lucas wanted to get off occasionally and not have anyone attached to him. Why though, what had changed, hadn’t he wanted what she wanted once? Or had they just been young and saying what they thought they should say and promise to each other?

He stood in the doorway watching her, trying to keep himself from picturing what it would look like if there was a mini version of her following behind, trying to help.

Why didn’t he go to NYU? Because the thought of being near her and not being with her was pure torture. Why didn’t he go to New York and tell her that he loved her and that being broken up was the dumbest decision they could’ve made? Because he was afraid she didn’t agree, he was afraid she was okay with them not being together.

Why else would she be planning to surprise him for his birthday, only to not come after all.

If only she’d been the girl in Las Vegas.

“So, um Chicken is ready.” He carried the plate and set it on the table.

“Wonderful, we’ve got a nice little spread.” She brought a pitcher of water over to the table.

“Do you want anything besides water, I’ve got some wine and beer over here.” He pulled curtain back to reveal a small wine fridge.

“This is a professional dinner, we’ve got to get your campaign figured out.” She reminded him.

“A glass of wine isn’t unprofessional.” He watched her, he could see the resolve wash away.

“Fine, what do you have in a white?” She took down two classes from the cabinet.

Lucas took out a Pinot Grigio and found the corkscrew, opening the bottle. “So, what is Auggie up to these days?”

“He’s teaching, he followed my Dad’s footsteps, except he’s teaching kindergarten instead of middle and high school.” Riley watched him, trying to figure out how they could go from these moments of simplicity between them to the sudden tension that would overtake them. What did any of it even mean?

“Did he and Ava ever get together?” he poured a glass before handing it to her, watching as she studied it for a second before taking a sip.

She moved to the table, “Auggie is single. He and Ava dated up until college, and they grew apart, she lives in California now and owns a Yoga Studio.”

“Wow, they did change.” He poured his own glass, never letting his eyes leave her.

“We all change Lucas, life changes us. Look at Zay, he was on his way to being a Broadway dancer and got injured. Smackle always planned to go and cure diseases, and yet she spends most of the day pouring over polling data. Maya thought she was going to become a famous artist, but she’s a stay-at-home mom to two kids she has with Charlie. Really, you’re the only one who did exactly what they said they would do, become a Veterinarian.”

Lucas took a sip of his wine, “You’re still helping people, maybe not the way you intended but you are.”

“So, you want to help the people of your community, what makes you think you can do that?”

“Going straight for it huh?” He looked down at his plate as he gathered his thoughts, “People trust me, they come to me for advice, the people of this town believe in me.”

Riley nodded, “Have you thought about the work load, you have the ranch, your practice, being mayor is going to take up more time than you realize.”

Lucas rested his arms on the edge of the table, “I have Gigi and Zay to help with the ranch, and a staff of ranch hands who do the heavy stuff. My practice is thriving, and I can always bring someone in to help if need be.”

Riley focused on her food for a moment as she thought how to bring this up, “Your marital status, this could bring you some unexpected attention. I know you’ve been named Bachelor of the Year three years in a row, it might bring more unwanted attention.”

Lucas took a sip of his wine, “I have no plans to get married or date.” How could he when the only woman he’d ever contemplated marrying was engaged to another man who wasn’t worthy of her, not that Lucas was worthy of her either.

“I’ve worked on campaigns in small towns like this, chances are the women are going to be itching to marry you off, if they weren’t already.”

“Can’t I be a confirmed bachelor?”

“People might talk, you and Zay, roommates for how long?” She leaned back taking a sip of her wine.

“I’m pretty sure people won’t be gossiping about that.”

“Tell me about your opponent.” She decided to change the subject.

Lucas sighed, “Current Mayor, getting older, nothing has really moved forward in town, kind of a holding pattern, too comfortable in the position.”

“Younger blood, revitalize the town you love, okay, okay.” Riley looked over to him, “I think your chances are good Lucas, your social media was clean. But go lock everything up, you need fresh accounts.”

“Fresh accounts?��

“Yeah, we’ll set up a story for who you are. Control the message, the story.” She explained, “This is something that Gigi might be able to do for you when I leave.”

“Desperate to get back to Dave huh?” He downed the rest of his wine, getting up from the table as his phone went off with a flurry of text messages.

“I don’t think I need to be hands on that’s all. I don’t think you need me.” She explained as she got up following him, “What’s wrong?”

“Just really weird messages from Dixie Carmichael.” He rolled his eyes, “If anyone thinks I need to be married it would be her, but only if she were my wife.”

“What’s she saying?” Riley tried to ignore the pit of jealousy rooting itself in her stomach.

Lucas scrolled through them, “Something about how you and I are reconnecting. How does she know you’re here?”

Riley took the phone from him, “How does she even know about me?”

“Zay and that mouth of his, but she must’ve misheard him, the bar is pretty loud.” Lucas put the phone down, his hand landing on top of hers and he felt a shiver ripple through his body.

Riley didn’t pull her hand away she looked at his though, feeling her heart beating before she looked up at him, “So, Gloria May, Dixie, how many other hearts have you left broken around town?”

“I don’t make promises I have no intention of keeping, if I broke any hearts here in town it’s because they created something in their own minds that wasn’t.” It would be so easy to kiss her right now he realized, so easy to blame it on the wine.

Riley pulled her hand away, “Tomorrow we need to go through your wardrobe, see what you have, what you need, see what your look is.”

“I need a look?” he wondered why she pulled away then. “We’ve got Church tomorrow, you’re welcome to go with us.”

“Of course, I should see you in your weekly element.” She gathered the dishes and started to put stuff away in the fridge.

“Why did you go to George Washington, why leave NYU? I know why Zay left, but why did you?”

“I needed to get out of New York.” She put the chicken in some Tupperware, “I needed a change, and I didn’t go to my first choice because the money wasn’t there.”

“I thought NYU was your first choice.”

“There was this program I was interested in somewhere else but I didn’t get in.” She lied, she couldn’t tell him that she’d been accepted to Texas A&M, that she’d almost gone, but couldn’t stand the thought of seeing him with another woman.

“I’m sorry, I can’t imagine anyone rejecting you.”

Riley shook her head, “That’s fucking funny coming from you Lucas.” She threw the plastic wrap back in the drawer and stormed out of the kitchen.

“What does that mean,” He followed her watching as she stormed towards the steps but he reached out for her, to keep her from walking away.

“It means what you think it means Lucas” she couldn’t look at him, she couldn’t get lost in those green eyes that didn’t know, didn’t understand.

“I think you’re mad at me for something and dammit Riley I don’t know what for.”

“You’re mad at me as well.” She broke her silent vow letting her eyes fall on his, she could so easily kiss him, just taste him once more, stir his memory, but what good would that do either of them? She would still be engaged to another man, and he would still be the man who didn’t meet her at the chapel in Vegas.

“Maybe it’s the situation, maybe part of us is still mad that we had to break up, we didn’t get the natural end to our relationship.” Though as Lucas spoke he knew there was no such thing, nothing about them ending could or would ever be natural.

“We would’ve maybe have made it through high school, but college took us different places.” It took every bit of strength she had not to caress his face, feel his facial hair against her finger tips.

“Distance is hard, I’m sure you’re aware of that, you can make it work with the right man.”

She didn’t speak.

“Dave is the right man for you, right?”

“Dave loves me, he wants forever with me, not just a night.”

Lucas couldn’t speak, did she really believe that he could only ever want her for a night? He wanted her for every night, he wanted her for every morning, every afternoon, if he honestly thought she could want him now he would do anything and everything she said to.

Her phone started ringing, she pulled it out of her pocket, showing Lucas the screen, “Speak of the Devil, I should take this.”

Lucas released her stepping back, “Of course.”

Riley felt like a piece of herself was falling away as Lucas’ touch was gone and she answered the phone, “Dave hey, um, how was the water today?”

Lucas went into the kitchen shaking his head, grabbing a fork from the drawer and going to the cake, Riley had frosted it, creating a simple pattern with a fork on top. She wouldn’t tell Dave she knew about the ring, she wouldn’t tell Dave that she was with Lucas. She was going to try and get out of here as fast as possible, he could feel it in his bones.

He stuck his fork in the cake and pulled out a full forkful before stuffing it in his mouth, he had to come up with a plan to keep Riley here in Rosewood Springs.

If she didn’t want to be here, with him, why should he try to get her to stay?

Because he needed her.

He needed Riley.

He needed her with him, in his life.

That’s what people meant, wasn’t it? He didn’t need her as a consultant.

Lucas Friar needed Riley Matthews, but how was he going to get her back?

Riley listened as Dave went on, and on about what a wonderful day he’d had out on the water on his boat with his co-worker Avery.

She should be jealous right now that her fiancé spent all day out on the boat with another woman, shouldn’t she? Shouldn’t she have the same reaction to the news that she had to the thought of another woman touching Lucas, another woman pressing their lips against his, feeling his hands on their body?

She shook her head, no she had no reason to worry or be jealous of the time Dave spent with Avery. They were friends, they usually ended up on the same cases. She never had any reason to be jealous.

Why couldn’t she bring herself to tell Dave that she was with Lucas?

Not that she was with Lucas, but here in Texas, on his ranch?

Would he be jealous?

Had she ever given him a reason to be jealous?

No, Riley had never strayed from Dave. She’d never strayed from any of her boyfriends.

Except she might have fantasized a time or two, thousand maybe about Lucas.

But those were fantasies. Even after he crushed her heart, yes part of her would always be physically attracted to him, she wasn’t blind, she could see very easily how attractive he was. He could give her one look, it was innocent enough she’d notice in the last two days, and part of her would be wishing he’d throw her over his shoulder and lock her away in his bedroom.

Fantasies are not reality though.

She started to change for bed, the way Lucas had stopped her earlier, she should’ve been mad, and she was, but only that he hadn’t pulled her body against his, that she didn’t get to feel the vibrations of desire she hoped to God he was feeling.

What was wrong with her?

Riley went to brush her teeth, why was she torn between trying to get out of town as quickly as possible, and needing him to ask her to stay.

She had no reason to stay though.

He didn’t need her.

But Riley did need something from him, closure.

That’s what this was about, it had to be. She needed to put Lucas Friar in her past once and for all so she could move on with Dave.

She studied herself in the mirror, really looking at her reflection. It was a Saturday night and she was free of make-up, her hair in a simple ponytail on top of her head. She looked wow, maybe, probably not to Lucas.

It would be so easy to go his room, to ask for that one night, it was all he could give her, wasn’t it? It would be all he would want to give her.

No, she already had one night with him, and he didn’t remember it.

That was it.

She needed him to remember. She needed him to remember the sensation of her lips on his chest, the feel of her mouth on his shaft, the feel of being inside of her and reaching the ultimate peak pleasure.

When she stepped out into the hall she paused, gathering courage perhaps, strength maybe. His light was on and she took a few steps towards his door, trying to gain the confidence to knock.

His door swung open just as she decided she couldn’t do it, “Riley is something wrong?”

She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t get distracted by him in just the pajama bottoms, if she opened them she knew she’d have that Peggy Carter moment of wanting to just reach out and touch his chest. “What time is church in the morning?”

“Service is at ten-thirty, we leave here at ten sharp.” Did she not understand what she was doing? Even though her pajama bottoms were loose they clung to her body in the right places, he was sure she was panty free now, he knew she was braless, but the tank top she had on was tight across her chest, he couldn’t help but notice the logo, “Gamma Gamma Nu?”

“Yeah that was my sorority.” Riley wondered if he recognized the logo as matching the tattoo on her buttocks from their one night together.

“I was an Alpha Tri Beta,” Lucas tried to look away, did she know how much more beautiful she was right now, in a way he could only describe as wow. She probably had no idea, Dave probably never told her, he probably didn’t really understand what he had.

“Oh, um so I should go now.”

“Riley, I um noticed something in my pictures.” He had to find a reason to stop her.

“You did?”

He grabbed his phone, “This one, from Las Vegas that looks like you and Maya giggling in the background.”

“It is me and Maya.” She told him not looking at the phone.

His heart was beating quickly, “It’s a shame we didn’t run into each other.”

Riley looked down at her hands, “Good night Lucas.”

He was stunned silent, what had he said? What was he missing? He reached out grabbing her before she was too far away. The golden flecks of her eyes blazed with a fire, “Why are you so mad at me?”

Her breathing was heavy as her eyes tried to fall from his but only realizing she was in more trouble if she stared at his chest. “You’re not the Lucas I thought I knew.” She wanted to scream at him to kiss her, to show her that he wanted her. “Who are you? No really Lucas, who are you?”

“Who am I?” He questioned, pushing her against the wall of the hall, “I’m a man Riley, who yes I have needs, I have desires, but …”

“But what Lucas.” She ran her hands over his chest, the hard muscles, golden chest hair as she stared into his eyes, her breathing becoming heavy as she felt the definition of his body, the texture of his golden chest hair against her finger tips.

“You’re a woman, you have needs, you have desires, but…” He could feel his body vibrating, he wanted to kiss her, he needed to kiss her, he could kiss her and find he spark he was desperate for gone or he could set a forest on fire claiming Riley as his once and for all.

“But what Lucas” She felt herself lean towards him, her eyes pleading for him to kiss her, even though her mind knew it was wrong.

His fingers ran down her cheek, over her throat, “You’re not the kind of woman who cheats and I’m not the kind of man to ask you to.”

“You’re right, I’m not the kind of woman who cheats.” She felt his touch, his body move away from her, it was like the oxygen around her was gone.

Lucas ran his hands through his hair, “I could never ask you to jeopardize your future, your happiness for what? A night of some high school fantasy.”

“And I’m not looking to become a notch on your headboard.” She moved down the hall knowing she wouldn’t be a new notch.

He watched her walk away, didn’t she get it. She wouldn’t just be a notch, no if Lucas was going to be with her, worship her body the way she deserved than she had to his and his alone.

At least now he knew that part of her wanted him, part of her needed him, but what about the part that wanted and need Dave?

Riley leaned against her bedroom door, what the hell was she thinking?

She knew what she was thinking.

She knew what she wanted.

She knew what she needed.

She laid on the bed, pulling a pillow against her body. She had to get out of Texas before she ruined her life in some crazy schoolgirl fantasy.

Why did she still want him?

Why did she still need him?

Why did she want him to want her?

Why did she need him to need her?

That wasn’t about closure, no it was something else.

But what?

”Lucas and Riley are going to kill you when they find out what you did.” Zay told Gigi as they got out of his truck, it was three in the morning, the moonlight was bright, washing over the fields.

“Or they’re going to thank me.” She put her purse over her shoulder and watch Zay, “They need a push to be together.”

“She’s engaged, Riley isn’t the kind to cheat.”

“And my big brother isn’t the kind of man to ask her to.” Gigi stopped on the back steps, putting her at Zay’s eyelevel, “It’s obvious they care about each other, and I think they both need the other, but something is holding them back and it’s not the man she plans to marry.”

“What’s holding them back Gigi?”

“Fear, we should be fearless.”

“And are you fearless?”

Gigi pushed her shoulders back, “I should practice what I preach, shouldn’t I?”

“I mean it might help your case.” Zay was trying to ignore the familiar flutter in his stomach as Gigi’s eyes took an inventory of him, “Gigi?”

“What are you afraid of Zay?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” He gulped, that was a lie, he was afraid of what Gigi was about to do, that he had now power to stop it because damn it, part of him wanted to find out, and he was afraid of what Lucas would do to him when he found out.

“You’re lying.” She smirked as her hand ran over his cheek, “You have this specific smile when you lie.”

“Gigi, we should go inside, get to bed.”

“Mine or yours?”

Zay was stunned, “You in yours and me in mine.”

Gigi shrugged before she leaned in, her lips on his, expecting him to pull away, only to feel him pull her closer, into him.

He knew it was wrong, he knew he should stop it, but it felt like every kiss he’d ever heard described in a movie or love song. No kiss he’d ever had before, had been like this.

This was everything Gigi had imagined it could be the last few months as the butterflies circled her body whenever he was near her. She’d tried to ignore it, she would flirt with the guys she waited on, but none of them made her tremble with just a look.

Lucas might end up killing Zay, but at least Zay figured he was going to die a happy man and that was only from a kiss.

Gigi pulled away smiling and took the step behind her up, still facing Zay, “I’ll see you for church in the morning.”

Zay stayed outside, knowing he had to keep a distance between the two of them.

He’d be lying if he’d said he hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t imagined it, but he’d always tried to push it out of his head. She as Lucas’ baby sister, she wasn’t even nineteen yet, a few days away but still.

She was about to turn Nineteen, and Zay was thirty. Two very different worlds, two very different lives to lead. No way could he believe she was even ready for what he was ready for, no she still had so much of the world to see, to explore, getting involved with him would hold her back, and he could never do that to her.

Not that he’d have the chance to, the minute Lucas found out, and he would, then Zay would be a dead man.

[rdrlister]

Time's' Wounds

Chapter 37 Meredith sat under a large tree in her parent͛s garden in Devon. Hamilton͛s ashes were buried beside her under a scots pine she had planted. He loved plants and trees. The roof garden had had slowly died under her care. She just didn͛t have the knack that he had for them. His funeral had been how she had wanted their wedding, small and intimate. The select few they had invited to the wedding were there to mourn him, the priest who had married them had performed the funeral service and been there to comfort her when she had been handed his ashes in a plain rosewood box. She couldn͛t face their flat after the funeral. Her parents had packed everything up and had her things moved to their family home. The sale had gone through last week. She just had to decide what she wanted to do with her life. London held too many painful memories for her to be there anymore. Her boss had been sad to see her go but had understood her reasons and promised a sparkling reference when she needed one. In her listlessness she had wondered into the local museum one day last month, where they were celebrating Jane Austin and her contemporaries and everything Georgian. After sitting through a seminar by a lecturer from the local university she had engaged him in conversation on its subject, ambiguous women in Georgian England. Jane had been mentioned as the disgraced first wife of the Marquis of Stafford. Apparently she had been cast down for infidelity and attacking a family member, she had ended her time in bedlam after the Marquis had had their marriage annulled and her daughter packed off to distant relative to raise. Meredith had thought the lecturer had been badly offended when she had disagreed with his theory that Jane had been treated badly and did not deserve her treatment. Meredith had asked him if his views would change if he discovered she was a manipulative bitch that deserved everything she got. Meredith had not forgotten their friend that Jane had sent to the institution herself. The lecturer had tracked Meredith down a few days later to ask her opinion on another aspect. He had remarked that she was extraordinarily informed about the period. She had smiled and had tea with him in her parent͛s front living room. He had returned almost every day since then to talk to her. ͚Meredith? There͛s a man here to see you.͛ Her father broke into her thoughts. He had been a quiet, steady rock for her since Hamilton had died. Where her mother had clucked and bickered over everything he had quietly handed her a whisky and waited for her to talk, or not as she pleased. He had been the one to find her at all hours of the night sobbing her heart out and screaming about injustice to the sky by Hamilton͛s grave. He had taken her into his arms and let her cry herself into exhaustion and put her back to bed. He stood before her now with a middle aged man in a savile row suit. She pushed herself up from the grassy ground and, brushing her hands on her jeans, shook the man hand. ͚Miss Meredith Lacy?͛ ͚Mrs Hamilton now. I was married three months ago.͛ ͚Many congratulations. I am Jefferson Highton from Smith, Smith and Jones in London.͛ ͚A lawyer? What͛s this about?͛ Her mind reeled. Was there a problem with Hamilton͛s will? It had been very strait forward leaving everything to her. Maybe it was to do with the flat? ͚Well it͛s rather strange madam. We have had these papers in our possession for about two hundred years. It was left with strict instructions that it be delivered at this address on this date into the hands of Miss Meredith Lacy only, by a very important client of ours.͛ ͚May I ask who the client is?' ͚The Earl of Bybrook madam.͛ Meredith stopped breathing. Robert? Robert had left her a letter? But how? He had died before she had left. She had been at the reading of his will, surly anything he had wanted to give her would have been given then. But then Robert had known nothing of where she and the others had come from. He had his suspicions, she knew had had, but he had never discovered the whole. She took the packet the lawyer held out to her. ͚I must admit the firm was curious to see if you actually existed madam. They shall be curious to know how a lady from 1820 would know of you.͛ Meredith could hear the question in his voice but she had no inclination to tell this man her story. ͚A lady you said?͛ ͚Yes madam. The mother and guardian of the duke at the time. I believe he was very young when the title came to him, she managed his affairs until he was twenty one I believe.͛ ͚I see. Well I have no idea. Thank you for delivering it to me. Do I owe you anything for your time?͛ ͚No madam. The current Earl is an extremely generous employer. He shall be disappointed that you could not end his curiosity.͛ The man sounded disappointed for himself as well. She could imagine, he had probably had this curious package waiting patiently in a box since he had started at his firm. She thought he probably was one of the high flyers in the business but had brought it here over junior staff just to satisfy his curiosity. He left her in the garden staring the package. What could Ruth have sent her? It was an ingenious way of getting a message to her. Meredith was just sorry that it only went one way. She could never right back to her friend. Returning to her place next to her husband she broke the seal on the packet and flicked through the package. There were pictures and letters. It was a time capsule of Ruth, Robert, Mary and James. It held details of their lives and their growing families until Ruth͛s death in 1864. They had all lived very happy and full lives. Blinking back tears she pulled a letter at random from the pile of papers before her. My darling Meredith, I got married today. I know me, married? Who knew? But he͛s a good man. He͛s a gentleman down here in Bybrook. He has been very kind to Robert and I. I think I love him but then I thought I loved Nigel and look how that ended. At least this one married me. I͛ll take each day as it comes and live each day like it͛s my last. Robert has grown like a weed. He͛s five now and loves nature. I am constantly finding him and Martin (my husband) down by the pond looking for newts and frogs. Martin is teaching him how to identify trees. They have even started a little herb and vegetable garden. It is such a comfort to see Robert frolicking in the garden, safe and happy. We visited Henri and the Earl this morning. The hydrangea is flourishing and Robert planted a matching plant over Henri to honour the occasion. I miss them sorely especially on days like today. But I feel them with me when I feel I need them. Mary and James had twins last month. A boy and girl, Simon Robert and Henrietta Meredith. They are gorgeous little sprogs and Geoffrey is so protective of them. He lays between their cots and growls at anyone who comes into the room. It really is endearing to see. Like something out of peter pan. Though I can͛t see Geoffrey taking a bonnet and being called nana well. They adopted little Sarah when Jane was taken to bedlam. The poor girl was very quiet and withdrawn when they took her on. The poor dear, I hate to think what negligence Jane forced on the creature. Jane͛s other child went with her to the grave on the occasion of his birth. We placed him next to Robert and Henri. It wasn͛t the child͛s fault his mother was vile. He has a buddleia to watch grow about him and love from heaven. There is not a day goes by that we don͛t miss you and Hamilton. Mary and I get together sometimes and hope that you made it home. James was devastated that he did not get to you both before those ruffians threw you into the river. He dived in after you but could not find you. He still askes the constables if they have any word of you but I think he had come to the conclusion that you and Hamilton are gone. He brought us all to his family home near Bristol for a memorial service. It was beautiful. Hamilton͛s brother brought a couple of seeds from Hamilton͛s garden and planted them. Mary told me she entwined them when they sprouted. I hope this finds you both well and happy. I imagine that Hamilton eventually got his way and made you his wife though every time I imagine your wedding it͛s different. It just doesn͛t seem right that Mary and I are not there to fuss over you and get riotously drunk at the after party and embarrass you for your big day. I hope you know that wherever we are now we were with you on your happiest day. Never forget us as we will never forget get you. All my love in friendship Ruth. Meredith was dry eyed as she read the letter through again. She hadn͛t realised how hungry for news she had been of her friends. She was glad that little Sarah had gone to Mary and James. The couple had an unending capacity to love. She flicked through the documents before her and found an old picture, a photograph of an aging Mary and James surrounded by a large group of people. Meredith realised they were their children and grandchildren. By the looks of it Mary and James had had five children, Sarah and at the time of the picture, 1860, seven grandchildren. There was a similar picture of Ruth with a man she assumed was Martin, a tall strapping man that looked like Ruth͛s dad must be Robert. Ruth had had three other children, a boy and two girls, they all looked happy and healthy. Giving Hamilton a pat and gathering the papers she returned to her parent͛s Tudor house. They had given her a number of rooms on one side of the building. The room she used as a sitting room was dominated by a huge inglenook fireplace with a blown up photo of her and Hamilton when they had been out in the park one day. He was hugging her, his bright green eyes crinkled in laughter while she nuzzled his cheek, a look of amused adoration in her eyes. Walking over to her desk she rifled through the draws until she found what she was looking for. Two large but old fashioned frames. She slipped the pictures of Ruth and Mary into each and hung them either side of her wedding picture with Hamilton. Standing back she admired her work. Seeing her friends so happy she made a decision. She couldn͛t go on living in the past. She would not forget it, the past had made her but she had to move on or fade away. She refused to become Miss Havisham. There was a knock on the door. 'Meredith, your lecturer is here to see you again.͛ Her mother called as she walked in. Meredith gathered herself and turned to the new man in her life with a dazzling smile. 'Hello John. I͛m so glad to see you.͛ The end