#next time she's packing a strap in her legal bag. i know it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

sun in the shadows (03)

word count; 12,706

summary; trying to make some headway on the study leads to an interesting revelation, and progress in your friendship with noah.

notes; if this part is a little sucky, I apologise. it was a last minute addition that I created because I realised I wanted to include some extras.

warnings; brief mentions of panic attacks/anxiety, but it’s very mild.

The weather was improving, the drizzle of the winter and the grey skies overhead were getting lighter, the showers of rain were getting less frequent and the winter was moving on. Spring was making itself known, bulbs of daffodils were finally taking root in the soil, and green was sprouting from the earth that had been frozen over and dead only a couple of weeks ago. The watery floors were drying up, limited ice was fading away, and graduation was sitting right on the horizon for you all.

Your fingers flexed around the strap of your bag, rooting through the contents to find a place to slip your file inside, all your notes for the class you’d be having were inside, and there was a blank page for your next session waiting to be filled out. Once it had its place, albeit getting a little bit crumbled against the other content, you removed your wallet, a few coins jingling in the bottom, and you hoped it was enough for two coffees.

There was a coffee stand not too far away, and you were hoping an extra shot of coffee before you went in might get your brain working a little faster. Only a couple of feet ahead of you was a face you recognised, a dark jumper to match dark denim jeans, a pair of boots for motorbike riding that were beginning to scuff along the edges and the toes. He was hanging over his money, a brown bag holding a pretzel and a tall cup, the tell-tale tag of a teabag hanging over the edge, and he walked away.

Joining the back of the line, you watched him go, sitting not far across the quarter with his headphones on, settling on one of the recently repainted memorial benches. He pulled the tab on eh coffee back, opening it up and a cloud of steam left the drink, curling up into the air that still held a slight chill, drifting away to disappear as he blew against the surface of the drink. In his other hand was his phone, scrolling aimlessly on it as a way to keep himself disconnected from everyone else around him and prompt nobody else to join him. His bag was out on the bench too, pushed a short distance from his body in an attempt to take up the rest of the space to deter company.

Ordering a simple set of black coffees, and finding you had just enough change for a muffin too, you waited patiently for your order, an assortment of condiments and the double-chocolate treat you’d paid for being handed to you first. There was a grinding, the slight screech of the machine as it crushed the beans to create two black coffees for you, plastic lids sealed on and two cardboard jackets fastened around them.

Balancing the load between them all, you headed over to him, using your knee to nudge the bag up the bench until it bumped his leg, and he jerked slightly, looking up to see you. Offering him a beam, his narrowed eyes lightened a little, and he sighed. Putting down his phone and moving his bag to the floor, he lifted the headphones away from his ears, and let them hang around his neck. Sitting yourself down, he slumped back into the wood, and you scooted up to sit closer to him, placing the spare coffee you’d bought for Stiles on the floor away from your feet.

“Hey, Noah!” He gave a short nod, still a little uncomfortable, and he turned to face you more. “So, what’s your schedule looking like this afternoon?”

“How did you know I was here?”

You shrugged, opening up the bag of extras and searching through for a couple of sweetener packets, and a wooden stirrer. “I didn’t. I was just gonna’ grab a coffee before class and head to my hall early, because, y’know, studying at home is distracting.” Your hand waved off the statement, finding the packets you wanted, and clutching your cup between your knees for stability. “So, anyway I was going to text you when I got there, but then I saw you, so I figured I’d come and say ‘hey’!”

“Right.”

“So, hey!” You waved a little before taking the top from your coffee, and leaving it on the bench beside yourself. “I ask once again, what’s your schedule looking like this afternoon?”

“Well, since I am the most popular guy at this college, I’m pretty busy.” He smiled a little at his own joke, particularly when you gave him a laugh, and your brow raised.

“Oh, he’s got jokes today, huh? I like it, I can roll with that.” Tipping the sugar into the cup, you added a couple of packets, before stirring it slowly. “I take it you’re free, then. I was hoping we could squeeze in some study stuff this afternoon. I have a class in a couple of minutes, but I wanted to see if you were free?”

“Well, I’m free all day. I had a six AM class.” His face screwed up at the idea, and you could feel his pain, having spent the entirety of your sophomore year with a teacher who held lectures at six AM so she could avoid her morning sickness before class, and rush home for it afterwards. Professor Anderson going off on her maternity leave was the best thing that had happened to your education that year.

“Great, I’ll sort it with Stiles, and we’ll text you the details.”

“Sounds like a thrill. I can hardly wait.” He smiles, the sarcasm just like his brothers as it came through, and you repaid him for the joke with a chuckle. While the two of you had made progress, you could tell he was still a little unsure around you. You were polar opposites and he didn’t take well to that, the atmosphere that you brought with you could be a little too much for him to handle sometimes, you couldn’t stop the guilt that was eating at you a little. “What’s wrong? You’ve got a look on your face like you want to talk about things. Just warning you, I’m not good at that heart-to-heart stuff.”

“Yeah, I’ve witnessed that.”

“Shut it.” He teased, sticking his tongue out at you childishly, and you grinned cheesily in reply to him. “You can tell me, though. Can’t promise I’ll help, but..”

“It’s nothing weighing me down. I just wanted to apologise. I clearly interrupted your free time. You got yourself a little pretzel to eat in silence, and everything.” He offers you a blank look at your slight dig, and you only winked, waving the muffin in a bag that you’d bought, and taking a sip of your coffee once the lid was sealed back on. “People usually like it when I stop by to see them, I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, really.” His words were strained, the response bringing you no relief as he forced them out, and your frown remained. “I’m serious, okay? It’s alright.”

You were trying your best but learning the lines with Noah was different to you. Upon starting college you’d been thrown in at the deep end of socialisation and a whole world you’d never quite had access to before. Coming from a smaller town that had always limited your expectations was tough, and you’d taken it differently from the way Noah had. You’d had so many experiences, becoming legal to drink and venturing beyond your comfort zone, truly leaving home and facing the idea of having your life laid out before you, the first time truly having your heartbroken, and being too far to simply collapse into the arms of your mom or dad for support when things got messed up.

“When does your class start?” You jumped, lost in your thoughts as you slumped back into the bench, and you sat up straight again, turning to find that Noah was already looking at you, eyes scanning over you slowly. It was a good reminder, time had been slipping away from you and in the ease of his peaceful and quiet company, you could have sat there for hours.

Checking your watch, you sighed, lifting your bag strap back up onto your shoulder more securely, and packing everything you had with you inside, leaving you to hold a coffee cup in each hand. “In about ten minutes.”

“How about I walk you?” He picked up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder, and you nodded, a warmer feeling at his offer blooming where cold guilt had been. Standing up and making sure not to spill any of the scalding coffee onto your hand. Peering around the busy campus quarters that was more filled now than it had been for months, the lighter weather tempting groups to come out of their dormitories and the cafés to gather outside instead.

He fell into step beside you, toes scuffing occasionally on the slightly uneven stonework of the quad, before it fell away into smooth concrete pathways on the way to your lecture. The grass alongside each path was growing greener, dull colour fading away into something brighter. Paper crinkled beside you, the cup of tea in his hands being finished and the cardboard cup was crushed between string fingers, knuckles even paler than usual as he crumpled it up, and as you approach the closest bin, it was disposed of.

Your fingers flexed around your coffee cup, almost having forgotten that it was there as the heat from the two began to fade away a little. Taking a sip, the refreshing burst of sweetened caffeine was like a spark to your system, and you revelled in it. “How do you take your coffee?”

You lower the cup from your lips, swallowing your mouthful, and you couldn't stop the rise of your brows once you turned to look at him. “Creamer, usually. I like a caramel flavoured one. But, since I’m not big on creamer in packets or from street vendors, this one just has sweeteners.”

“Cool.” He nodded, and your lips pressed together tightly to try and contain the smile you wanted to let free, silence forming between you both for a moment, a further gathering of steps as the two of you went on, your building coming into sight again. “Did you watch the news last night?”

“Is this small talk?”

“It’s an attempt at small talk.” He winced, and you chuckled, a small smile on his features as the fear of judgement or humiliation washed away, and he gave a sigh.

“Okay, let's try this.” Your mind spun, searching for a track of something to talk about, and a thought clicked into space. “If you could watch one genre of movies for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“Comedy. Like, comedy-action. You know, ones like ‘Jumanji’ or something?” He was quick with it, certain about his answer, and you nodded.

“Yeah? That was quick. How come you’re so sure?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, one hand coming up to hold his bag strap, swinging it to the side to be able to get inside, and fish out the paper bag with a pretzel inside. “I guess I just think they’re good for you. Good for the soul. They have action and it keeps you a little on the edge of your seat, but it’s funny. It's easy-going, when you’ve got anxiety, or you’re having a bad day, or you just want background noise, they’re perfect.”

“Alright. Fair enough. Okay, tricky one.” his eyes narrowed a little, but an amused look passed over his features while he waited. “If you had to choose specifically between comedy and action, which is it?”

“It’s got to be action. Because comedy usually means Adam Sandler or Seth Rogen, and some of their comedies are good, but some are jus-” He paused, jaw dropping a little, and his hand came out, pausing in front of your to bring you to a halt too. A smile curled on your lips, and he looked shocked. “Holy shit, you’re good!”

“Ask a basic question that people are passionate about, it always leads to more options, and everyone always wants to talk about something fun.” His head shook slowly, as though he was in disbelief, and you took a dramatic bow, trying not to spill the coffees in your hands as you giggled. “Give it a go, I bet you can do it.”

The paper in his hands crinkled, your footsteps taking up again, and the two of you were making your way towards the building once again. Taking a bite from his pretzel, a piece torn away with his teeth, he thought it over. “Does your family have any secret or ‘famous’ recipes?”

“Oh, that’s a good one. Kudos to you, Noah.”

“Thank you. I thought about it for, like, eight whole seconds.” He grinned, the joke moving away from you both as you left it behind, and you thought about his question.

“Maybe it’s not my family recipe, just a personal one, but I’m great at making lasagne.” He scoffed, and you nudged him with your elbow. “I’m serious! I make a great lasagne!”

“You don’t seem like a cook to me, is all! You seem like the sort of person who’d manage to burn a pit of water.”

“You can’t burn water, an.. oh, I just got it. You jerk.” It was a joke, your nose screwing up as you stuck your tongue out at him, thanking him a second later as he held the door open for him. The bright lights of the outside changed to artificial lights in the halls, not as much coming through the windows as trees outside managed to cast shade into the building. “Well, I can cook. I love to cook, and I’m good at it. Especially lasagne. My family are generally the only ones who have ever had it, and thanks to that insult, you’ll never have it.”

“Oh, woah, no! You have to let me try it now. Prove me wrong, or I’ll be forced to believe you’re bluffing.”

“You’re sneaky.” You scoffed, students filling the hall and filtering in from different sides of the building, lectures in different halls all waiting to take place, and you stepped to the side of the corridor once your doorway was within reach. “If you’re lucky.”

“I’m betting on that.”

Glancing back, Stiles was already inside, as expected. Stiles Stilinski had never once been on time, he was either twenty minutes early or twenty minutes late, and since he’d spent the night with Derek, who was an early bird, you’d figured which one today would be. His head was slumped on his hm half-asleep and on the verge of drooling as he sat there, and you chuckled, turning to Noah. “Thanks for walking me. Also, thanks for small-talking with me.”

“Thanks for the advice on small talk.”

“I’m gonna’ head inside, but, I’ll see you later, okay?” He nodded, confirming the times with you, and lingering a moment longer. It was quiet, but not so tense, and he rolled on the balls of his fete, the half-eaten pretzel in his hands was seemingly abandoned as one hand tucked into his jeans pockets, the other hanging limply while holding the delicacy by his side.

“Thanks for sitting with me. This wasn’t so bad. It was almost fun.”

“You know, one day, you’re gonna’ tell me you had fun with me. I look forward to that day.” He smirked, your head tipping to the side at the expression.

“If you’re lucky.” He was repeating your own words back to you, and you beamed at the chance. Backing away from him slightly, you fixed him with the cheekiest glance you could as you walked through the doorway.

“I’m betting on it.”

You could hear his laugh once you were gone, into the classroom and beginning to take the steps up to a seat beside Stiles that he’d reserved for you, his bag sitting on it. He’d already gotten his equipment out, notepads and pencil laid out in a somewhat organised mess on top of the desk.

Placing the two coffees down, you moved Stiles bag to the floor, tucking it behind his chair and a soft snore made itself known from him, the boy not doing well with early mornings but he never had, not once in your years of knowing him had he handled it very well, so it was no surprise.

“Opening up your bag, you dropped your notebook down onto the surface with a loud ‘slapping’ sound, and he jerked upwards, flailing as he did, and almost knocking the coffees over. Blinking quickly and shaking sleep away, he looked around, eyes wide as he finally focused on you.

“Jesus Christ, don’t do that.” He chastised you, leaning back in his seat and holding a hand over his heart. “I was dreaming about high school, I thought you were my lacrosse Coach waking me up for falling asleep in class again.”

“Maybe I am.” You winked, slamming a hand down on the counter. “Drop and give me twenty, Stilinski! Right now!”

“Don’t do that, it’s eerily accurate.” He cringed, shuddering a little, before a wide smile replaced the horrified expression that had morphed, and you pushed a coffee over to him. “You brought me a coffee?”

“Yes, I did. It’s bribery.”

“Oh? What am I being bribed for?” He was curious, rooting through the bag of condiments for it and taking the plastic lid from the cup, steam curling out into the air. Taking an ungodly and certainly unhealthy amount of sweetener and sugar packets to load into his coffee.

“Your free time this afternoon. I’m thinking about getting some of my study done, I can get all the work for the next couple of sessions sorted now, but how do you feel about being asked some later?” He tipped them in, a drop of coffee flying up over the edge and landing on the desk as he stirred his drink with vigour, that same hyper excitement that he always had.

“Can’t I just fill them out now?”

“It’d be better if I could get your responses with Noah.” He sighed, rolling his eyes and making a scene of it, but there was a smile that told you he already agreed.

“You should have brought me two coffees, but fine.”

You let out a victorious ‘aha!’, and shook the little brown paper bag that was still sitting on your half of the desk at him. “I also brought you half of a muffin!”

“Only half of a muffin?”

“Well, it was none, but since I didn’t eat it yet and I’d feel bad eating it in front of you, I decided to share it.” You tore it in half, pushing half across the scratched and vandalised wooden surface to him. Crumbs were left along the surface, and Stiles pressed the pad of his finger along them to gather them all up.

“Oh, right. Well, in that case, what I meant was; wow, a full half of a muffin!” He cheered, much more enthusiasm, and you nodded.

“Much better.” At the front of the classroom, your tutor entered, door slamming behind him as he kicked the wedge out from underneath, and his case was placed down on the desk. The room began a hushed quiet, save for the loud slurping of Stiles with his coffee beside you.

“You know,” Your best friend didn’t understand the concept of a whisper, everything he did was more like a dramatic stage whisper on a Broadway show, and a few dirty looks were sent his way. The professor was used to this, a year of experience and advice from previous tutors guiding him to ignore Stiles’ fidgeting and chatter. “You’re going to have to convince Noah to do this.”

Slumping down in your seat a little more, you turned your head to him, nibbling on your half of the muffin. “I already did.”

“What?” This time he was hushed, the man standing at the front near his desk, trying his best to give extra advice to everyone and answer any common questions that he’d been emailed. You’d have to catch the after-class notes in your emails. “When d’you do that?”

“This morning before class. I saw him while getting coffee for you and we walked over.”

Stiles huffed, his brows being pulled together slightly. “Okay. Damn, he was my last free shot at getting the afternoon off.” You grinned, pinching at your friend’s cheek, and he smacked your hand away. “Quit it, I’ve told you not to do that before.”

“In case I pinch your moles off?”

“That's where my power is. My funny is in my moles.” He hissed, only making you laugh more, and you covered your mouth with your hand over his silly superstitions.

“Whatever, freak.”

“Hoe.” He snarked back, and you grinned, punching at his shoulder as best you could from this angle, and he reached up a hand to rub at it. “So, if we’re doing this, I at least want to do it at my place. I’m going out this evening, I gotta’ be ready. Derek’s sisters are coming up to visit.”

“It won’t take long, don’t worry.” He hummed, pulling out his phone and keeping it ducked from view. He was texting his brother, letting him know to be ready, and at what time your class would be ending, giving him a little time to prepare. Opening your book up and flicking to the page you had marked, it was a journal written about the study of the ways that twins raised in different households could grow up similarly, and you were hoping to adopt some of the content for your study.

“So, what’ve you got done so far?”

Stile sighed, flicking open his notebook, and you were shocked by the fact that he was already at the end of it. There were pieces of paper stuck in, a list of book references on one of the tabs down the side of a page, and only a few blank pages left at the back.

“Oh, wow, okay.” You stared at your notebook, barely reaching a quarter of the way through with the notes you’d been making, and it looked like Stiles was ready to start making progress towards a conclusion for his hypothesis. “So, you’ve got a whole lot done, then.”

“Yeah, well, I want to spend as little time in a prison as I possibly can.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead, the pages crammed full of information as he flicked through to find a blank one. “Plus, I didn’t want to go and interview inmates on my own, so I wait until Derek has free time to go with me, and I get as much done in those sessions as I can.”

“You’re gonna’ be done weeks before I am.” You pouted, your pen twirling at the top corner of a page, drawing a collation of pretty flowers to form a border, and he chuckled.

“I have easier test subjects than you do. They’re already guilty and behind bars, they’re more than happy to open up. You’ve gotta’ deal with Noah.”

“That’s true.” You grinned, thinking back on the conversation you’d had with the other twin that morning. When he was alone, it wasn’t so bad, he talked more and he wasn’t so worried about judgements, but as soon as there was someone else who might hear, he completely closed down.

“Hey, seriously, we have ages left. You’re gonna’ be just fine.”

“I’m just freaking out a little bit, because this is the last hurdle, y’know?” He nodded, and you could see whatever it was he was thinking practically swirling in his eyes, because Stiles’ emotions were open to read like a book.

“It’s terrifying. It’s, like, what the hell are we supposed to do when we finish?”

“I don’t know.” Your head dropped to your hands, fingers soothingly rubbing at your temples. A large hand landed on your back, rubbing in comforting circles. “What I do know, though, is that if I don’t get on with coming up with some more content, I’m never gonna’ finish this study in time.”

“Well, put your headphones on and come up with some questions.”

You did as told, plugging your earbuds in and choosing some classical music that would make it easier to concentrate. Opening one of your survey works back up to the page you’d left off at, your eyes began to flicker over the pages, picking out the useful information. Once you had a list built, you had a foundation to work from, questions to create and organise into groups, different sessions being able to come together.

Beside you, Stiles’ hand never seemed to stop rising, a constant dialogue with your tutor as he checked his work and ironed out any kinks in his study. He was also full of chatter and laughter, getting along with everyone around him and asking about their works, making you turn your music up several times just to be able to concentrate. But, by the end of the session, when Stiles was tugging your earbud out and telling you your class was over, you had a solid three pages worth of questions that had been split up into sessions, and ready to be worked through.

“Pack up and get ready to go. I have plans to get ready for.”

Stiles already had his bag in his arms, notebook tucked inside and pens and pencils put away, two empty coffee cups and a muffin wrapper sitting out, which he quickly gathered up, once his bag was on his shoulder. He was gone, walking past you and down to the waste bin at the front of the hall to dispose of them, his fingers tapping idly on his thigh once he was done.

You gathered your belongings, packing them away and curling the wire of your headphones back up neatly, making sure everything had its correct place in your bag, before following him down and out of the steps.

The halls were filled once again, the two of you navigating through crowds to the outside of the building, and you followed him in his diversion across the pathway, all the way to his car. Some students had already left, spaces beginning to empty out as a bottleneck effect took place at the only entrance and exit to this carpark.

“Where’s your car?” The dirty blue jeep was one of the only ones left in the parking lot, Stiles looking around for your vehicle, and you sighed.

“Don’t get me started on that hunk of junk.” You growled, stomping a foot on the floor as Stiles laughed. Opening the driver’s side door, he hopped up inside of it, legs dangling from the chair. “I’m trying not to use it as much. It splutters when it starts up and I have to try it a whole bunch of times, so the less I use it, the closer to graduation we can get before it eventually taps out.”

“You ever think about just getting it fixed?”

“Oh, big words from the man whose engine is held together with duct tape.” Your hand rubbed over the hood of the car, a slightly dusty layer that made you cringe, and you wiped your hand off on your jacket to stop it.

“Touché.” Stiles only smirked. “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride to my place. I’ll be waiting for hours if you walk.”

He slammed his car door once his legs were inside, leaning over the centre console to pop open the passenger side door as you rounded the car, and he was sparking up the car before you were even fully inside. Slamming it shut, he was reversing from his spot as you clipped in your safety belt, swinging his car around, and you gripped onto the edge of the door. “Easy there, fast and furious.”

“Oh, relax. Nobody is around.”

“Except for me, and I’d like to live until graduation.” His eyes rolled, hitting the brakes and flicking on the indicators as he was leaving the parking lot, moving out onto the main roads. There weren’t so many other cars, the mid-afternoon meaning the other students were mostly in class, in bed, or eating their lunch. College was a weird time, and while you’d loved it, you couldn't wait to regain some kind of normality. “Can we swing by my place? I need to swap out my books. I don’t want to carry all these around.”

“Okay, but be quick! I have to be ready by six and out the door by six-thirty. Derek will kill me if I’m late for this.” His fingers were tapping on the steering wheel as he changed direction to head to your place instead of his own. The space between you both was filled with the radio, the simple tunes of classic 70s anthems, the songs Stiles had grown up with, his dad’s favourite records and he played them constantly. He knew all the words, mouthing along and banging his head, pausing occasionally to check the mirrors and the roads between dancing in his seat.

Rolling the window down as he slowed in his approach to the building, afresh air swept into the carbon of the car, the slightly musty smell of the older car was something you’d miss when it was gone. The shade of the concrete cover overhead was chillier than the sunny roads, and he swung himself haphazardly into a parking space.

“I’ll turn the car around and wait here, cool?”

“I won’t take long, promise!” Hopping from the car and closing the door, you leant on the open door frame, and Stiles slouched in his seat, as he usually did. “Lydia and Ally should both be out, so there’s nobody for me to even talk to.”

“Good, because you’re chatty.” He teased, and you flipped him off, a quick walk as you headed away from him to the stairs. Once you were there, you were taking a quick jog up the sets of stairs, headed for your floor, and balancing your books in your arms carefully. Rooting through your bag to find your keys, they were at the bottom, jingling tantalisingly for you to find.

Leaving your books on the countertop of the kitchen, you shifted through them, taking the notebook you needed and leaving the rest, piling them back up and taking them to your bedroom Abandoned on the desk, you rushed to change, throwing on a bigger and warmer jumper to get through the rest of the day, phone in your pocket and a bag on your arm. Passing back through the kitchen, you were ready to grab the notebook and bag you’d left there, keys hanging in the back of the door, and you eyed the freezer.

You’d made a bet, a point to prove, and you were certain that buried somewhere deep in the bottom, you had a frozen lasagne from the last time you’d made it for Allison and Lydia. You had a few spare moments, and so you moved over to the freezer, opening the door and crouching to scan over all the shelves.

Running your fingers over frozen plastic, you searched for the right one. Tinfoil crinkling in the back, behind a bag of dinosaur chicken nuggets and a tray of alcoholic ice cubes, was a tray of lasagne. Pulling it out, the cold chilled your arm, even through the layers of your hoodie, and you used your foot to close the freezer while wrapping the tray in the nearest tea towel for an extra layer.

Placing your notebook over it and holding it in both arms for security, you clicked the latch onto the door, keys in your pocket and bag on your shoulder to let it swing closed behind you.

Stiles saw you coming, his head snapping over to the metal door between the stairwell and the parking lot when it fell open, backing through it and his brows raised. Opening up the passenger side door, he took the lasagne from you when you handed it over, climbing back into the vehicle.

“This is cold. What is it?”

“Lasagne.” You settled it onto your lap once your safety belt was on, folding the towel underneath to keep your lap from getting chilled and painful, and he nodded. The engine was still running, and taking off the brakes, he was pulling out of the space again.

“So, not that I don’t love a home-cooked meal, but I’m going out for dinner. Why the traybake?”

“I have a point to prove to Noah.” You were looking out of the window, but you could feel his gaze on you, making you a little uncomfortable, and you turned to face him. His eyes were flicking between you and the road, brows furrowed, a stare like he was trying to figure you out, before he let it go. “He told me I looked like I couldn't cook, and it’s a battle I’m going to win.”

“Well, alright then. Save me leftovers?”

“We’ll see.” You winked, and he grinned, eyes flicking to the tray in your lap, before back to the road.

It was only a short journey, the distance between your place and Stiles’ building was short for a walk and even shorter in a car, on the edges of campus and conveniently placed, and it had been one of the building blocks of your friendship with him An easily accessible study partner, somewhere to hang out with, someone to walk home with you after a night out, someone to share a cab with, or simply knowing there was a friend so close to you.

“It’s going to be weird not living around the corner from you in just a few months.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He sighed, pulling into his one building sparking area and it didn’t have the luxury of being covered or underground, it was exposed each flat having allocated parking spaces, and Noah’s bike was parked underneath the shelter, you could see it from here, with a clamp around the wheel and covered from the impending and risky weather of the early months. “I have a feeling that you’ll end up living next door to me someday.”

“You do?”

He parked the car, arm behind your head as he reversed into it, ready to make a quick getaway on the next morning, or this evening, when he would invariably be late. In true Stiles Stilinski style. “Yeah. Especially after I rock whatever gown you want me to wear for being your maid of honour, someday.”

“Lydia is going to fight you for that role.”

“I will fistfight her for it.” He challenged, and you grinned, clambering down from the car as Stiles had parked a little too close to someone else on your side. With your bag on your shoulder and lasagne in one hand, you tried to squeeze around the door without scratching someone else’s paintwork.

Stiles’ arm was slung over your shoulder as you set off toward the building, the elevator being fully functional, and it was a refreshing change not need to take the stairs up to your place, or risk your life in a rickety elevator.

Throwing his keys down on the kitchen counter, they slid all the way across and to the other side, hitting the floor, and he grimaced when you turned to stare at him. “I’ll pick those up later.”

“Uh-huh.” The sounds of video games and music were coming from behind Noah’s door, though it wasn’t fully closed, only pushed halfway, and you hoped that was a sign that he was still in a good mood. Leaving your bag on the edge of the couch that was facing away from you, your hands rubbed together, glancing around at the environment you were still getting used to. “You should put this lasagne in now, so that it’s ready for after the study. Medium heat, leave the full-on tight.”

“Where are you going?”

“To say ‘hey’ to your brother.” Stiles’ face scrunched up, a mumble of ‘good luck’ as he picked up the tray, lifting it over his head to look in at it from underneath. Wandering toward the sounds coming from the hall, you knocked on the edge of the door, pushing it open a second later when you heard the game pause, and the music following it. Leaning on the doorframe, Noah turned to face you, brows raising slightly, and he shifted in his chair. “Hey.”

“Hi. It’s, uh, time for the study stuff, then?”

“Yeah. You okay?” He shrugged, turning back to his game and closing it off, leaning forwards from where he was sat on his bed enough to turn the console off.

“I didn’t realise we’d be doing it here. It feels more personal, somehow.” He had a large hoodie on, comfortable in his own clothes as he wore a baggy and warm outfit, the same way you often had when everything started to feel overwhelming.

“Well, this study is going to get pretty personal.”

“I know that. It’s just that right now, it feels a bit like I’m naked, y’know?” You chuckled, a momentary smile on his face flashing past, and you were glad to see it. “I just feel exposed.”

“This study is gonna’ do that, but I promise that I’ll try and make it as easy as I can. I’ll break it up, I’ll make it comfortable for you, and we’ll stop whenever you’re getting overwhelmed.”

“That’d be great, actually.” His hands rubbed together, sleeves hanging slightly down over his palms, and he looked a whole lot less terrifying right now than he did with the armour of a bike and a leather jacket. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Good, because I need you in high spirits. I brought a lasagne and I have a point to prove.”

You backed out of the room as he advanced toward you, the door closing and leaving you both standing in the hall, and he smirked down at you a little, a disbelieving expression. “You really brought that?”

“You bet I did. It’ll be ready by the time we finish.”

“Then I guess we’d better get started, huh?” He hopped over the back of the couch, settling in beside his brother, who scowled at him as his drink spilt down his shirt from the impact. Taking a seat on the other side of them both, your legs folded underneath yourself in the armchair, finding a glass of water laid out for yourself on the table, courtesy of Stiles.

They looked so different and yet so similar in this moment. You could understand how people may have confused the two of them before their styles became so radically different. In the beginning, before Noah turned to leather and a sleeve tattoo, when they both wore hoodies and band tees and had clean pale skin. With the sleeve of tattoos covered, and the pair both wearing hoodies, one with an etching across the front and the other with a faded logo from being washed one too many times,

Laying out your books, it was more of a note you’d keep to yourself, and following from that was your recorder, coated in the front pocket of your bag so as not to get crushed. Switching it on at the side, the red light flashed on to green blinking once to let you know it was active. “Can you guys do your confirmations for me while I get set up?”

“Surely can.” Stiles sat forwards, leaning down a little with his forearms braced across his knees, as opposed to Noah, who slumped back into the cushion. “Stiles Stilinski, happy to be recorded.”

“Noah Stilinski, aware of being recorded.” Stiles rolled his eyes at his brother’s dead tone, clearly not having as much fun as Stiles was, but you didn’t blame him.

“Okay, so, why don’t you guys tell me what it’s like to live together at college.” There was a beat of silence, and then a set of matching laughs from both of them, the two starting at one another. There was a look between them, one you didn’t quite understand, and it seemed like some kind of twin-telepathy communication.

“It’s, like, exactly the same as when we were in high school.”

“Uh, what?” Stiles interjected, and Noah turned to look at him. “It’s nothing like high school!”

“Yes, it is!” Noah insisted, and you smirked, picking up your water and taking a sip as the two stared in shock at one another. “We lived together in high school, we played video games, I did all the cooking and you did all the cleaning while dad was at work. The only thing that is different is that we can’t cheat from one another’s homework anymore.”

“We don’t drive to school together anymore, we’re on opposite sides of campus!”

“That so doesn’t count.” Noah scoffed, and Stiles twisted on the couch, his hand gestures much more emphasised than that of his brother’s and you watched the debate go down. “You can’t name any more than that.”

“I take that as a challenge.” Stiles’ head rolled side to side. “Our schedules don’t match up anymore, and we haven’t had our usual movie nights in almost six months now. I can’t bring Derek over because your room is right across from mine-”

“My room was across the hall from you at home. You just didn’t date in high school or have anyone to bring home.”

“Low-blow. Unlike some people, I didn’t want to traumatise my brother in high school by bringing someone home, for that.” Stiles reached out mid-sentence, swatting at his brother’s shoulder, before continuing; “Uh, let's see. Oh! We don’t talk anymore, you didn’t ride your motorbike so much at home, you used to ride in the jeep with me. It’s like a totally different world now.”

“I didn’t know you felt like that.” There was a palpable kind of feeling in the air, something between them that was sizzling with electricity, before Stiles sighed.

“It’s no big deal. The difference is just that we’re both so busy now.”

“That was really good, actually. Thanks.” The two seemed to have forgotten you were there, both flinching and turning to face you again, matching sets of honey-coloured eyes in varying shades were fixing on you again. “Speaking of what you said, though, does it ever make it hard for you guys when your class times are so different?”

“Hard to do what?” Stiles squinted at you, face set in a frown that his twin normally wore.

“Hard to hang out, talk, have that whole brotherly bond going on.” Your clarification did little for Stiles, his brows still pulled tight and frown never moving, but Noah’s face smoothed out.

“Oh.. well, I g-”

“Totally.” Noah pressed, and once again, Stiles’ head whipped around to look at his brother. “Don’t look at me like that. You basically said it, anyway. We don’t talk so much anymore. We barely know each other. You don’t even tell me about your podcast, anymore.”

“You never listened!”

“You used to tell me your problems, not broadcast them to the world with jokes and humour! I missed two episodes, and you just stopped keeping me updated on it.” The moodier twin crossed his arms over his chest, and you swallowed thickly at the environment you had unwittingly created. “I don’t know. Just feels like we used to talk a lot more.”

They both went silent, and Noah shot you a pleading look, but there was something darker behind it. It almost felt venomous, angry or defensive, as though to say ‘I told you so’ about it being more personal now that they were home. Stiles was occupying himself with pulling a loose thread on their couch cushion out and making it that much worse, distracting himself from it all. “Well, how about something a little bit lighter. Just some questions about hobbies. Stiles, what inspired you to first start a podcast?”

“Well, as you know, I never stop talking.” He smirked, Noah laughing beside him, and just like that, the awkward air between them both was completely evaporated. “I had a lot to say, I had a lot to get off of my mind. At first, it was just to get my thoughts out there. It was kind of like a recorded journey for myself, and to share with my friends from back home. But, then other people started listening. I thought it was going to be the end of my college social life, a social life that I was developing for the first time ever, and they liked it. I was just talking into a mic and getting things off of my chest, making no sense while telling stories and bitching about my homework and suddenly I had friends. It got a whole lot of followers and I made new friends,”

He paused, offering you a wink for the comment, and you beamed.

“-and I was going to parties, I met my boyfriend at a pep rally, and everything just kinda.. blossomed. The more I got out of it, the more inspired I was to keep going. I ended up making multiple videos a week, all differently themed. Sometimes movie reviews, sometimes songs, sometimes just talking. That’s how ‘Mischief Mic’ was born.”

“Alright. That was awesome.” Stiles bowed as best he could from sitting on the couch, and reached over to take a sip of his drink. “Okay, Noah, have you got any hobbies that you didn’t have in high school that you found when you came to college.”

“Not really.”

“Not even one?” You pushed, and the arms folded over his chest tightened, his gaze going to the floor, socked toes pushing into the twist cable rug. He took his glass, swigging all of it, the water draining from the glass in nervousness, and you could hear the crickets inside your mind chirping to fill the silence that had formed.

“No. Not really. I’m going to get more water, feel free to continue.”

“Uh, okay.” You pressed your pen down into your paper, drawing a line through the question on your paper as you realised you’d have no answer to that question when you listened back on the tape at a later time. “Stiles, back to you, then.”

Your next question came, and went, and Stiles was more than happy to answer them. Occasionally, Noah would answer a question, you’d be able to pin him down long enough to get a straight answer out of him, but there seemed to always be something that he needed to mess with, or fix. Almost half of your questions for him had a line drawn through, and you would have to ask them another time, and get a whole extra session in without Stiles, dragging the study out.

It was going to take you twice as long to get through it all if every time you had to ask them separately, and had to spend your time trying to force him to sit and answer. You were missing half of the information that you needed to be able to compare to Stiles’ answers, you couldn’t answer without them.

The clock ticked by, leaving you with all of your questions for Stiles answered. On a blank page, while Noah had once again been tinkering with something in the kitchen, you’d rewritten up all over the crossed out questions that would still need answers. You had doodled on the corner again, waiting for him to come and sit back down, a collection of hearts and flowers, the occasional bee or ladybug, even a couple of misshaped stars, forming a banner across the top of the page.

When he finally came to sit back down, he huffed, eyes moving to the clock as though he was waiting for this to end just as much as Stiles was, and you gave up.

“Okay, how about we just finish this up?” You had reached the end of your tether, not even bothering with the rest of the questions that were written down for him. “We got almost two hours in, that’s perfect.”

Noah sighed, something like an apology in his look as your eyes met his and he shrugged lightly. Stiles only nodded, eyes flicking up to the clock on the wall, and he was grinning when he came back. Tearing a page out of your notebook for each of them, you passed it over, blank paper sitting before them, and you searched for a pen or pencil in the bottom of your bag for each of them. Placing your pen down before Stiles and a pencil in front of Noah, they both leaned forwards, picking them up. Switching off your recorder and packing it away, you were left with the two staring at you expectantly.

“Okay, Stiles, come fill yours out in the kitchen. You can’t discuss these ones.”

“Oh, some mystery. I like that.” He picked up his paper and pencil, heading over to the kitchen counter, folding the sheet in half as he did, and you nodded. Standing from your place behind the coffee table, your bag slumped a little more from where it had been propped against your leg.

“Okay, I want you both to try self-diagnosing yourself.” Stiles gasped, a little excitement lacing it, and his pencil was already moving over the paper. Noah, however, looked a little lost, looking to you for guidance. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to use professional terms, just, describe what you think, I’ll be able to figure it out, and if I can’t, I’ll ask you about it at some point.”

He nodded, pausing, not quite as eager to get into the activity as Stiles was, before the pencil finally met the paper, and the slow scratching of graphite over paper filled the silence.

Moving away to the kitchen, you searched for plates, and a dish, laying them out on the counter before moving to the oven. A wave of hot air into your face once you pulled the door open, and when it cleared, you search for the kitchen towel you’d brought with you. Wrapping it carefully around the edges of the tray inside, you pulled it out, resting it atop the oven and closing the door back up.

Flicking off the handles, the light inside went dead, and Stiles loomed up behind you. “Smells good!” He presented a piece of paper to you, your eyes flicking over what he’d written once you’d taken it from him, and everything that he’d written about himself seemed completely accurate. It wasn’t a surprising self-evaluation, Stiles had spent almost four years studying this, just like you had, and so it was bound to be accurate and professional. Even if his handwriting looked a little bit like chicken-scratch.

Noah was still working on his, and Stiles was picking at the edges of the tinfoil, trying not to touch the glass of the casserole dish and burn himself, and as soon as he had some foil pinched between his fingers, he was pulling it back. “Wait, Stiles, watch out for the-”

“Fucking steam! Oh, my God, that’s so fucking hot!”

His hand snapped back, half unpeeled as all the steam from inside clouded in the air, and his hand was clutched to his chest. He was glaring at the pot, before moving away and running his hands underneath the cold tap at the sink, his thumb rubbing over wet skin to soothe it.

A second later, Noah was appearing, placing his paper face down on top of Stiles, which now lay on the kitchen counter. “Well, now that I’ve been scalded by pasta, I’m going to go shower and get ready.”

“M’kay.” He backed away, and Noah leaned on the counter beside you.

“Looks good, but does it taste any good, is the question.” The twin you were left with was teasing you, your eyes finding him, and you raised a brow.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get me something to serve it up with, alright?”

He smirked, pulling open the drawer behind him and searching for a serving spoon. Slicing it into pieces, you dished it up for him, a large slab on a plate, still steaming with cheese that had only just stopped bubbling. He grabbed a fork, and one for you too, waiting patiently as you served yourself, and put whatever was left into a dish for Stiles, covering it back up and leaving it to cool.

“Okay, prepare for the best lasagne of your life.”

Picking up the papers and your plate, the two of you moved back to the couch, sitting opposite one another, and you waited with excitement. Taking a piece off of his plate with the edge of his fork, he raised it, blowing cold air over it for a few moments, before taking the bite. There was a tense few moments, while he chewed, face unreadable, before he was swallowing the mouthful.

“Well?”

You couldn’t take the anticipation any longer, a smile on his face at the desperation you showed for his answer, and he gave in. “Alright, alright. This may actually be the best lasagne I have ever had.”

“Yes!” Your hands went up in the air, cheering excitedly and he laughed at your reaction, holding his hand up when you forced him to, palms slamming together in a high-five. He was tucking in again, and you reached for your plate, excited for the meal you had made, Taking a large piece on the tip of your fork, you tucked in.

The sound of Stiles’ shower was running in the background, and he was singing loudly, a song that you were certain was a TV show intro but you’d never seen the show, and there was a chance it was something from Disney Channel. Picking up the pieces of paper again, you turned Noah’s around to face you.

You’d had an expectation, you knew what you thought he was going to write down, and yet you were somehow surprised and entirely not surprised at the same time. It was what you expected but with a twist. He had confidence in what he’d written about himself he was sure of it, and while there were definitely elements that you’d disagree with, there was a lot of truth to it, and you frowned, reading it again.

Noah was watching you do so, the scrape of forks over plates as the lull in chatter came back, and you place the two pieces of paper into the front of your notebook, making sure that it was all sealed tightly away. “Is it alright?”

“It’s just not what I expected from you. But, it’s perfect.”

“That feels like a backhanded compliment.” He smiled softly, but he looked nervous, and you shook your head.

“Not at all, it just means that you have a better grasp on this whole thing than I thought you did.” It was the truth, and while you didn’t want to reveal so much to him about it all without compromising your work, but it made sense. “It just feels like with the way today went, like you weren’t really so interested in it, so I didn’t expect such an accurate self-diagnosis from you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He sighed, pushing what was left of his food around the plate, and you copied him, appetite dwindling. “It’s just that when you’re here, in my apartment, and you’re asking questions about what changed and making me confront everything, it feels like real therapy. You said it was going to be casual, and this didn’t feel casual.”

“I get it. I really do, and it’s okay. I can just email you the questions you didn’t answer, and you can get around to them whenever you feel up to it, alright?” He nodded, shaking off the evening’s stress. He continued to eat, polishing off the meal that was laid out before him and settling his hands over his stomach once he was finished. There was a satisfied smile on his face, and your empty plate was soon stacking on top of his own. Leaning forwards a little, you caught Noah’s eye, and one of his brows arched up. “I can try to make it more informal, in the future.”

“That would be great, actually.”

You smiled, the consolidation made between the two of you, and your ears picked up on another sound. “Hold on, is Stiles blow-drying his hair?”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed, head turning to the closed bathroom door where his brother resided. “He thinks it makes his hair fluffy.”

“He gels his hair, though! Why does it matter if it’s fluffy?”

“He’s insane. Don’t you know this, yet?” Noah scoffed, and your giggles carried you back into the rest of the chair as you settled back into it. The evening was still waiting to come in fully. Comfortable quiet fell between you both again, and Noah moved away to take the plates to the kitchen. He left them in the sink, water running to wash them up, before storing Stiles’ lasagne in the fridge.

The aforementioned boy moved from the bathroom to his bedroom, skidding on the floors a little and clutching the towel to his waist as he hurried, making himself late with the extra-long shower and the blowdrying of his hair. Noah was washing up the plates, leaving them to dry on the draining rack, and you took that as your cue. The night was over, that much was clear, and you’d be willing to bet that he was more than eager to get back to his alone time.

Taking your bag and double-checking that you had everything, you swung it up onto your shoulder, and made your way toward the door. Hearing the shuffling of your feet, Noah turned, drying his hands on the towel beside him. “Are you going?”

“Feels like I should. Stiles will be going soon, anyway. I’m sure you have things to do, too.”

“I don’t have anything to do, if I’m being honest.” He cringed at his own words, pulling down the rolled-up sleeves of his hoodie and making his way over to you. Undoing the catch on the door, he pulled it open, leaning against it and you linseed in the doorway.

“Since you’re not doing anything, do you wanna’ get a coffee with me?”

His eyes narrowed, just for a second, and his fingers tapped anxiously on the wood of the door. “As a study subject, or..?”

“As friends.” You confirmed, his lips a thin line for only a second, before pulling up at the sides in a smile.

“Then, yeah. I’d like that.” He looked down, sweatpants and mismatching socks on his lower half, and there was a tint on his cheeks when he looked up. “Just give me two seconds to go change, alright?”

He darted away before you had a chance to reply leaving you there with the words frozen in your throat. Stiles was clattering around behind his own door, and Noah’s door slammed shut, leaving you alone in the doorway. Your hands tapped against your thighs as you waited, bag swinging on your shoulder, and only a second later, one of the doors was opening.

To your surprise, it was Stiles, flapping the flannel on his body to shake out any creases, and he stood before you. Doing a little twirl from where he stood, he began to button it up down his front, looking somewhat smart. It was a nice black and white one, no rips or tears or stains like most of his other ones, and the black stood out prominently against the white, thick patterns with flecks of grey within it.

“How do I look, then?”

“You look great, Sti. I’ve never seen you wear anything so plain before. There’s no colour.”

“Yeah, well, this is a new flannel. It’s my best one, and the skinny jeans are Noah’s. All my skinny jeans are blue or red, it was this or khakis.” He was nervous, resisting the urge to mess with his freshly-styled hair. “The place we’re going to is kinda fancy, but I don’t feel fancy enough for it. I’m gonna’ do something stupid like drop my glass and smash it or make a joke about something dumb.”

“Haven’t you met his family before?” You teased, and he huffed, searching for his keys, and finding them under the counter where he’d never bothered to pick them up from.

“No, not really. I’ve met his mom because she comes to visit a lot, and of course, his little sister, because she’s a sophomore here. But, he has a lot of family. His extended family are coming to graduation, but this is his older sister and his dad, and his uncle, and I’ve never met them before.” His keys were tucked into his back pocket, and his phone followed, your gaze moving over him.

“You got a blazer, Stiles?”

“Uh, yeah. One that my dad made me promise to bring, I wore it to my senior prom.” He shrugged, hands smoothing over his front. “You think I should wear it?”

“Go get it, show me.” He nodded, moving back to his bedroom, and you were waiting for something with orange and blue stripes to come back out, which wouldn’t surprise you. In fact, you’d always imagined Stiles going to his senior prom in a Beetlejuice suit. Noah emerged from the other side of the hall, hangers scraping over their post in a wardrobe as Stiles searched for them. “Did Stiles go to prom in a Beetlejuice suit?”

Noah paused, rolling the edges of his hoodie up, charcoal grey skinny jeans that were only a few shades lighter than the ones Stiles had stolen from him on his legs, and a pair of his usual scuffled boots. “What?”

He was laughing, loudly, shaking his head to hide his grin. “It’s a legitimate question! I have this mental image of it!”

“Unfortunately, he did not. My dad made us both go in three-piece formal suits. He saved up to have them custom made. Said that every man should have a smart suit.” He shrugged, crouching to start tying the laces on his shoes and Stiles reappeared. Over his shoulders was a dark black suit, crisp collar and pressed edges, and it was a beautiful piece of tailoring.

“You look good, Sti. Very smart, but casual. Like a polished version of your usual self.”

“Yeah? Good enough to meet Derek’s family?” His voice shook, and you wished you could ease him more.

“Totally. You look great.” He thanked you both, and Noah grabbed his wallet from the side, and his house keys, letting them both hang in the front pocket of an oversized hoodie.

“You ready to go?” He offered, hand on the top of the door, and Stiles’ head snapped up again from where he’d been checking his phone, presumably looking for texts from Derek.

“Where are you two going?”

“We’re getting coffee!” You beamed, and Noah nodded, stepping a little further out of the door with you.

“Oh, well, have fun. I’ll text you updates about how it goes. I might need bathroom-break pep-talk during the night.” You waved to him as you went, wishing him ‘good luck’, before the two of you were wandering down the halls. Thumbing the button for the elevator, the doors popped open, and you were stepping inside along with Noah.

“So, you wanna’ show off those new small talk skills to me, then?”

“Okay, okay. Let me think of something.” He hummed under his breath, glancing up to the top of the elevator and looking around at the posters on the walls for inspiration, and he seemed to find one. Turning his attention quickly back to you, you prepared for what he’d found. “Have you listened to any of the student bands? There’s been a lot of them growing, lately.”

“I’ve noticed that, actually.” There were several posters up around the inside of the elevator, different coloured flyers, some on shiny paper and some on smooth matte, varying fonts and designs, it was dizzying. “I haven’t, I’ve never been to see a student band. I should do that before I graduate, though. Have you?”

“I’ve been to a couple.” The door clicked open, the two of you stepping through it. Out into the setting chill of the evening that was threatening to break its way in. He chose the direction you’d be going in, heading toward the coffee shop on the side of campus that had been the first the two of you had met at when beginning the study. “Some of them are good, some of them are kinda’ average. They usually play at the bars on the edges of campus or in the places in the city, the less well-known, kinda’ alternative places. They can be fun.”

“You going out optionally to a night on the town? I’m shocked.”

“Uh, no!” He protested, grinning at you. “I’ve never been for a ‘night on the town’, and I never will. However, going to one of the few small bars around here that aren’t practically a nightclub, to listen to covers of good songs and get a pint without worrying about anyone bothering me or mistaking me for my brother, that’s nice.”

“Okay, well, maybe I’ll go to one sometime.”

“You should, I think you’d have fun.” The two of you weaved between other students, the small talk keeping up between you both as he did his best, and while it was sometimes a little stuttered and stalled, it wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. It wasn’t until the two of you had entered the coffee shop that he fell into tight silence again. The crowds, the rush of chatter from other groups gathered around the tables, and the friendly greetings of baristas whose chit-chat diverted to him due to his allegiance with you.

“What are you drinking? My treat.”

“Uh, just a black coffee.” He choked out, eyes flicking over all the boards, so many options up there, and you chuckled.

“Really, just a black coffee?”

“I’ve never really experimented. I just ordered whatever was the quickest and the easiest.” He confessed, already glancing back over his shoulder at the queue that was forming behind you both. “What would you recommend?”

“Hm, well, do you have a sweet tooth?” He only nodded, scratching around his cuticles on one hand and staring down at the flesh growing red, and you took his hand. Lowering it back down to his side, the hand formed a fist, flexed nervously, and you let it go, squeezing comfortingly first. Turning to the barista, she was still waiting patiently, and your eyes moved over the boards overhead. “Two mint and dark chocolate hot cocoas.”

“That sounds really good, actually.” He leaned down, mumbling the words into your ear to make sure you heard the quiet tone over the talk in the small coffee house.

“And, two croissants, too.” She rang it up on the machine, and you leaned in a little closer to her. “Do you have any of the warm and fresh ones straight from the oven?”

“We made a fresh batch about twenty minutes ago, they’re cooling. I’ll get them from the back for you.” She finished it with a wink, passing the card machine over to you once you’d produced your card from your wallet. Swiping it across the reader, you moved to the end of the line, and she moved away to begin preparing your order as someone else took over at the counter.

She was working, creating two beautifully constructed hot chocolates for you both. Placing them down on the counter before you, once they were garnished with chocolate sauce and whipped cream, she disappeared into the back room. Taking one of the ceramic plates with her, you were happy to see her bypass the glass cabinet with the older ones in, and only a moment later, she was coming back. Two fresh croissants on a plate, still warm and soft to the touch, and she handed those over as well.

Noah had been scouting for a place to sit, choosing which was the best one, and he carried both of the drinks while you carried the pastries, guiding you to the seat he’d chosen. It was tucked away in the back, a small loveseat sofa with a low sitting coffee table in front of it, and as soon as the paper cups were down on the surface of the table, he was dropping down into the seat.

“It feels like rush hour on the highway, but with coffee.” He mumbled, and you settled onto the couch beside him passing him his drink over, and he stared at it curiously. “What about the whipped cream. Do I eat that first? Scrape it off? Mix it in?”

“Any of the above.” You grinned, taking a wooden stirrer from the condiments tray in the middle and beginning to stir the cream into your hot chocolate. He placed it down, copying your actions, stirring slowly and trying not to spill any over the edges, but it was an impossible feat to achieve. Sticky droplets left over the edges of your cups and his, creating rings on the table that you had to mop up with tissues. “Okay, try it. This is one of my favourite orders here. It’s bitter because of the dark chocolate, but also sweet. Reminds me of you.”

“Now, that one is a backhanded compliment.” He muttered, taking a sip of the drink, and your lips rubbed together.

“Not everything is a backhanded statement, you know. I didn’t intend for it to be mean, it’s just the truth. You’re all dark and moody, but I can already tell you’re sweet on the inside.” You sipped your drink to finish your statement, and he filled the time where he didn’t know what else to say by pulling a chunk off of his croissant. Chewing on it idly, he settled back into the cushions, and you lifted your legs up to fold underneath yourself as you turned to face him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You’ve already asked me a lot of questions today.”

“You didn’t answer many, though. You kinda’ have to give me this one.” He scowled falsely, but nodded, licking a flake of pastry from his lower lip. “Not that I think you need it, because personally, I think you’re just fine, but why are you so scared about therapy? The idea of it, anything to do with it, it makes you so closed off. Even more than usual.”

His eyes moved over the room, nervously, before scanning both you and the table, and you put your drink down, holding open palms up to him.

“No recorder, no study. I’m just curious.”

“Okay.” He sighed shakily, and slumped back. “Well, after my mom died, my dad made me and Stiles have therapy when we started acting out. We had a therapist who came to the house, and she was great, don’t get me wrong, but I hated it. I didn’t want her to tell me how to grieve or mourn, and I didn’t want her to tell me how to move on. Stiles needed all the advice he could get, but I didn’t want it. I wanted to do it my own way. Now, the idea of therapy, brings back all those feelings of sadness and pressure and stress.”

“I’m sorry, Noah.” You reached out, rubbing a hand over his shoulder, and his gaze fell to the contact. “Genuine sympathy and sorrow, not just that thing girls do that you hate.”

“Stop hanging things I’ve said over me, I don’t remember half of them. I blackout in social situations.” He grinned, moving past the moment, and you withdrew your touch.

“You know, if it makes you feel any better, I understand the nervousness of being in a study.”

“Yeah?” He picked up the rest of his croissant, a large chunk of it being eaten, as he waited for you.

“Yeah. When I moved here, I was so nervous. I was beginning to take my course and I didn’t really have any friends, and there was a senior who needed freshmen for her study.” Noah grinned, settling in for the story and sipping his drink. “She was doing a study about the difference between kids who travelled far from home for college alone as opposed to those who were still close to home, and whether it impacted social clubs, grades, all that. To be fair, it was an awesome study.”

“It sounds like it.”

You smiled, swirling the cup in your hands to gather any loose powder that may have begun to separate and gather at the bottom. “Well, I got drawn into it. She was a senior, and she was nice. I had no friends yet, I was in a flat-share with Allison and Lydia and three other girls who were all too busy getting adjusted to college themselves. So, this senior, she invited me to a party, and then another one, and suddenly people started wanting to be my friend because I was the freshman who hung out with seniors. I figured it would all drop away when her study ended and she didn’t need me anymore, but by then the whole social hierarchy had done its thing, and there I was.”

You shrugged, and Noah was hiding a shit-eating grin behind his mug. “So, you were just a little freshman lab rat, then?”

You scoffed, your laughter mixing with his, and the two of you were left in subtle amusement. His laughter was cut short, though, brought a rapid halt when a set of legs bumped against your table on the other side, followed by two more behind them.

“Hey, girl!” One of the girls on the cheer team, a lacrosse player behind her and a girl who you recognised from your psychology class texting on her phone. “Saw you over here, wanted to know what your plans for the evening were. We’re going to do some karaoke and get some food, you wanna’ come?”

Your eyes moved to Noah, whose attention was fixed on the floor again, as though the splintering wood was of utmost interest. “Maybe another time. I think we’re good here for now.”

“Oh, you sure? I think it could be super fun, you should both come.” The invitation was now extended to you both, and you shook your head at her despite it.

“Seriously, you should go, if you want to,” Noah whispered, and when you turned back to him now, he’d dared to look up, chewing on a lower lip that would go raw, but he met your gaze.

“No, I’m sure. I’m having fun here.” You held his gaze for a second longer, before turning to her, and confirming your denial, and she smiled, promising to make plans with you soon, before she was walking away. Noah was fidgeting beside you, shuffling in his seat, and you could practically feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves. “I’m serious, Noah. I’m having fun, and I’m perfectly happy here with you, right now.”

He was trying not to grin, a smile that was being bitten back on the inside of his cheek. “Well, for the record, I’m having fun too.”

“What was that?” You cupped your ear, challenging him to repeat it, even though you had heard it perfectly, and by the look on his face, he knew the game you were playing.

“I said I’m having fun. I won’t deny it.”

“Two victories in one day, for this gal. I’m breaking down all your walls, Noah Stilinski.” You poked at his cheek, and he swatted your hand away, taking a bite from your croissant as punishment, and you tried to snatch it back from him.

“Two victories, one loss. You’re not getting this croissant back, now.”

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kurama-is-love · 4 years

Text

A day at the beach (Kurama x Reader)

Word count: 8292 (My longest oneshot so far.) Genre: comedy (mostly), romance, lime (slight sexual situations) Rating: 12+ (nothing explicit)

Pairings: Kurama x Female!Reader, Yuusuke x Keiko, Kuwabara x Yukina

Some note at the side: I didn't gave Jin an irish accent like he had in the english dub version, because I am german and have absolutely no clue about that accent. So.. just to let you know. I still don’t have a beta reader, so I am sorry about my english.

Summer, the sun, beach and more. Was there anything better than spending a relaxing time at the sea with your best friends?

This was what Yusuke, Kuwabara, Kurama, Keiko, Botan, Shizuru, Yukina and you thought when you had packed your stuff and drove towards Okinawa in the caravan that your brother had kindly provided.

Koenma had burdened a lot of you guys lately, which is why this vacation was found to be urgently needed, at least from Yusuke and you. Even Hiei was somehow persuaded to come along. Of course, the fire koorime had refused at first, but then Yusuke had a convincing argument.

“Yukina will be walking around there, half naked. You don't even know what Kuwabara could do with her when~"

And suddenly Hiei was convinced .. Should Kuwabara even try to make a suspicious move or touch on his beloved sister, a sword would be stuck in his human head.

"Sooo. Here we are. A 1-A private beach. Here we have our well deserved rest. " Yusuke grinned and put his hands on his hips as he looked over the fine sand and saw the water slowly glistening in the sun.

"Private beach? I didn't even know that one of you guys were rich .. Yusuke, we're 'legally' allowed to be here, aren't we ..? ” You asked slightly skeptical and crossed your arms. The black-haired man laughed uncertainly and waved his hand.

"Of course we are. This is the beach of ... a friend of mine. Right, Kuwabara? " Yusuke asked and hit the bigger guy in his side.

“What friend, Urameshi? You said the beach belonged to your dead grandparents? ” The orange-haired man said, confused.

Yusuke laughed when everyone looked at him reproachfully.

"Yusuke .." Keiko sighed and was about to hit her fiancé. Some things just never changed.

"Now calm down, everyone! This beach is not used by anyone! You see the beach house up there? I found letters in the mailbox that are 4 years old. Nobody has been here that long. So please. "

His words made you and the others not more relaxed.

“How do you know that? Don't say you have the key for their house? ” Kurama asked and raised an eyebrow, examining his friend's reaction carefully. Yusuke just shrugged his shoulders.

"People shouldn't just do it like in the movies and hide their keys under a flower pot next to the front door." his cheeky reply followed by his smirk.

"YUSUKE ...!" You sighed in unison, until finally giving in and simply accepted his antics. If you get caught, you could still blame it on Yusuke..

After the caravan was parked, the group went to the "borrowed" beach house to change for the beach. You, along with the other women, went in a bedroom on the upper floor, while the men had their area on the first floor and found a grill in addition to their swimwear. Perfect for an evening barbecue later, which can be set up outside in the back of the house.

You got along very well with the other women, especially Keiko. You both had a wonderful chemistry right from the start and quickly became best friends. However, everyone knew of the feelings that you harbored for a certain red-haired handsome man among the group. That's why Botan and Shizuru used moments like this to tease and encourage you to finally confess your feelings to Kurama.

"Uhm .. excuse me .." Yukina nervously began and pointed to the bikini. “Do I have to wear something like that too? Isn't there anything .. Uhm .. decent that covers more skin ..? " The shy snow maiden asked and was a blushy mess when she saw the others undressing to change.

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with it, Yukina." Botan tried to calm her down. “A bikini has to look like this. And you have a great body. So you have no reason to hide it. “ the female grim reaper of the spirit world winked cheekily.

“Botan, stop teasing the poor girl like that. If you don't feel confident enough, you are welcome to wear one of my swimsuits. " You offered and searched your bag for bathing suits.

What you found then, however, was surprising.

"Huh? I'm sure that I packed swimsuits .. ” You paused and rummaged through the whole bag until you found the only bikini in it. "...That's not one of my bikinis …" you mumbled suspiciously and when you lifted the top, you noticed a small note hanging on it.

'Hey, my beloved sister, you can thank me later. I saw this cool sexy bikini piece and got it for you so that you can finally seduce Kurama. You don't need any more, so finally get on with it!

With love, your brother [b/n] '

"... That damn, little …" You sighed in frustration and dropped the piece of fabric. Keiko noticed your mood change and stepped next to you.

"What's wrong, [Y/n]?" She asked worriedly and then saw the bikini. "... isn't that a little too ... revealing? It doesn't even have real cups, it just has narrow fabric up to the straps .. ”she added.

"... My brother is responsible for this. He hopes that this will cause something to happen between Kurama and me. “You mumbled. “You will have to go swimming without me. Because I'm definitely not going to put that on. " You shook your head.

"Oh that'll be fine. Hey I can quickly make a portal into the spirit world and get you a normal bikini from me! How does that sound? “ Botan asked with a grin.

"Why do you want us all to wear bikinis here?"You wanted to know and touched your forehead in annoyance.

"Well, how else do you want to conquer the men of your heart? Yukina-san can easily wrap Kuwabara around her finger in a bikini and I think Kurama will be very excited when he sees you in a bikini. "Botan grinned.

"First of all, Yukina doesn't need any extra to gain Kuwabara's attention because he's already madly in love with her." You corrected.

"W-What ..?" Yukina's head lifted in shock and her face reddened massively.

"Shit .. Sorry Yukina-chan, I had completely forgotten that you are still here .."

"Kazuma is ... in love with me?" Yukina asked incredulously.

"You never noticed?" Shizuru asked and took a drag on her cigarette. She was already in her swim suit and just waited for the others.

"I .. knew that he liked me, but .. that it was feelings like that .." Yukina mumbled, slightly embarrassed, and put her hands on her cheek.

"Ta-daaaa. Here I am. I have a really cute bikini for you! “Botan interrupted this unpleasant - at least for Yukina - conversation and gave you a cherry red bikini with a rose decoration on the upper strap.

"Wah? When did you go to the spirit world? I didn't even notice that you were gone .. " You shrieked and saw Botan grin appraisingly.

“Well, I'm not number 1 for portals into the spirit world for nothing. Fast and silently like a ninja, I walk between the worlds and ensure peace! "

"Chaos fits better."

“Oh, I can take the bikini back with me and then you have to have this half piece of cloth to wear where your breasts almost fall out .. Mmm, although that's more optimal, because that way you would definitely have Kurama's attention. ” Botan giggled at her last sentence.

“It's okay. I'm sorry. I take it. Thank you, Botan .. "

Botan grinned triumphantly and after each of the women was dressed appropriately for the beach, you went down to meet with the boys. However, you only found Kurama there.

"Where are the others?" Keiko asked and covered her upper body with a colorful pareo, which should give her a minimal feeling of concealment. Because she felt a little too naked for her liking too when someone other as Yusuke saw her like this.

"They have already gone to the beach." The kitsune explained and only looked briefly at the others. Because when his gaze fell on you, he directly averted his gaze and cleared his throat barely audibly ."You girls look adorable, by the way."

"Thank you. But why are you the only one still here? " Botan wanted to know.

“To wait for you. The others have found a good spot on the beach where we can all hang out. I stayed here to take you to this place so you don't have to look for us out there first. " Kurama explained with a smile.

"A gentleman as always."You spoke with a smile and when Kurama's gaze met yours again, both of you suddenly turned a little red in the face.

"Of course, when it comes to charming ladies like you." The redhead smiled and led the group of women outside. It was only a few minutes before you saw two men in the distance attacking each other. Yusuke and Kuwabara fought again. That was no longer unusual for you and so you sat down on the large beach towel. In the middle was a picnic basket from which everyone could help themselves. There were sandwiches, rice balls, and cold drinks that Kurama had taken as a precaution. This man just thought of everything.

After the two brawlers broke away from their petty argument, the group began to split into different activities. Yukina, Botan and Kuwabara built sandcastles, respectively Kuwabara built a huge heart for his Yukina. After you had slipped out what the orange-haired felt for Hiei's sister, Yukina even dared to reveal her own feelings. She had a bright red head, but when an overjoyed Kuwabara hugged her and even cried a little for joy, she smiled gently and relaxed into this new feeling. It was just as sweet as sugar. Even when Hiei almost freaked out, in the end he just wanted Yukina to be happy. And if that idiot made her happy, so be it ..

Keiko and Yusuke plunged directly into the floods of water and cooled off. It was pleasant to see how happy they were when Yusuke pulled Keiko up in the water and laughingly took her with him until he dropped her before the brown-haired woman countered with splashing water at him. Even if they argued every now and then, it was clear to see how much they meant to each other and it was just great.

Hiei and Shizuru were the only ones who holed up outside and did not care about the hustle and bustle of the others. They felt more like the babysitters of this gang of rascals on this trip. While Shizuru was able to find some relaxation by reading a book, Hiei just stared emotionlessly at the water. He was probably bored, without fighting enemies and stuff.

That left you and Kurama, who were still sitting on the beach towel and watching your friends in amusement.

"They're all having so much fun," you smiled. "It was really a good idea to come here," you added quietly.

“It really was. I'm glad to be able to find some relaxation too. " Kurama agreed and you looked at each other before your smiles grew wider and your eyes fell on your friends again.

“And I'm so happy for Yukina and Kuwabara. Actually, I just slipped out that he loves her, but I'm glad that it led to our little shy Yukina confessing her feelings to him. " You said then.

"Oh? So you are responsible for Yukina's sudden confession? ” Kurama smirked and took a strand of [h/c] hair from your face as he put it behind your ear. Such loving gestures had almost become normal for both of you. And yet you were no more than friends.

"Oh, that's a long story." You giggled and hoped that your redhead didn't ask any further, otherwise you would have to explain about the bikinis and your feelings, for better or worse. Because you just couldn't and didn't want to lie to him.

"I like long stories," Kurama smiled.

... You knew he would say that.

“It's really not that extraordinary. We talked when we were getting changed and Botan said that Yukina could attract the attention of Kuwabara with a bikini " You revealed.

"Ahaha. She has his attention the whole time. " Kurama interrupted you with a chuckle.

"I said that, too! And then it slipped out because he loves her. “ You laughed and scratched your cheek in disgrace.

Kurama smiled silently and briefly closed his eyes. A few years ago, he would never have dared to dream of making such great friends, let alone going on a trip to the beach. Fate sometimes had a strange sense of humor, thought the fox demon.

“But we shouldn't sit in the sun unprotected. Should I put some lotion on your back? “ You offered and waved the tube of sun lotion in front of his eyes. Kurama's smile softened and he nodded slightly.

"With pleasure. But only if I can put some lotion on your back afterwards, ”he said, which made you blush.

"Of course." You said quietly and sat down behind Kurama. He had his long, fiery red hair tied up so it was pinned up and out of the way. The kitsune closed his eyes when he felt the cold sun lotion on his shoulders. Shortly afterwards, your fingers gently danced over his skin to distribute the sun lotion around the neck and back. You applied a little variable pressure to massage the sun lotion in aswell. You smiled incessantly and didn't think anything bad about it at first, until you heard a sound that you had never heard before from Kurama.

He moaned so softly, it almost sounded like a purr. Purred foxes like cats? You wondered and smiled when Kurama seemed to relax completely. At least you could see it in his posture and the way his muscles twitched at your touch.

"You're totally tense." You commented, in order to escape this uncomfortable silence and also to contain his sinfully erotic sounds. Because these sounds did not pass you completely without a trace of a pleasant tingling sensation spreading in your crotch area.

“Does that surprise you? Fighting demons the whole time and then enduring Yusuke and Kuwabara's eternal quarrels .. " he joked and closed his eyes again when his head fell back almost by itself. "Aaah .."

This sound now made you blush. Your fingers slid very gently over his skin until you had completely covered his back and released all tension. You just took that time.

Kurama stretched himself and stood up.

"Thanks." He smiled and took the sun lotion from you. “Now it's your turn. Turn around. " He ordered gently and you obeyed immediately as you sat down in front of him with your back turned. However, Kurama was reluctant to use the sunscreen. "Uhm .."

"What's wrong, Kurama?" You asked and turned your head slightly so you could see him from the corner of your eye. It wasn't common for him to be reluctant.

“Would it be okay to unknot your top? The stripes bother a little. ” His voice was a little quiet and you could swear that they had a touch of hoarseness. Your cheeks literally glowed at this request, but since you were turned with your back to him and the others were far enough away, it was okay. You trusted Kurama.

"Yes. Will you open the knot, please? It's so difficult for me to get there and you are already ideal positioned for it. " You said softly, which made Kurama slightly blushed with a soft smile. These passionate tensions between the both of you grew stronger and yet no one dared to take the first step. It was frustrating, but also exciting somewhere and you enjoyed these intimate moments of with him alone and you could tell by his reactions, that Kurama felt the same way.

"Good, but if you should give me a slap for this action, I'll be happy to remind you that you gave me permission," he teased, making you laugh again. It was unbelievable how often you two could just laugh together and open up to each other completely.

"Aren't you mistaking me for Keiko? I wouldn't even slap you if you 'accidentally' touched my bum, "you admitted honestly, until you realized what you were saying.

"Oh, I'll keep that in the back of my head for sure." The redhead smirked, laughing and his fingers slightly, but provocatively running up and down your sides.

"Kurama .. I think your demon side is slowly seeping through." You sighed, slightly embarrassed, but not without a broad smile. It wasn't like you didn't enjoy flirting and his ambiguities. And then these touches ... But you could tell when Kurama's Youko side was involved. Not that you minded. Because you loved his Youko side as much as him.

"Sorry." He laughed very softly and gave you an apologetic kiss on your hair until he finally took care of the knot of your top. His fingers played around the cord of the knot a little teasingly before he slowly undid it and you had to hold the fabric at the front so that it don't suddenly exposed your bare chest.

Kurama dripped some sun lotion on his hand before starting to spread the cool substance from the back of your neck. Now it was your turn to enjoy. You closed your eyes and let the feel of his fingers sink in. His touches were so light as a feather and yet they kindled a blazing fire in you, which slowly clouded your mind. When he massaged the lotion as you did with him, you couldn't help it and a pleasant sigh left your lips. Kurama gave a small smile and began to massage your neck area lightly. That turned your enjoyable sigh into a slight moan.

You were startled by your own voice and put your hand over your mouth, embarrassed. You never made such noises. How embarrassing..

Kurama noticed your sudden stiffening and blinked before realizing how embarrassed you were. He smiled and hugged you around your arms. When he leaned at your back, he also got some of the sun lotion on his chest and stomach area, but he didn't care. You gasped in surprise when Kurama pulled you close and moved his arms around your hips. His head rested on your shoulder and his eyes were closed. Probably out of decency, so as not to risk a look at your very inviting neckline.

“You don't have to be uncomfortable with such sounds. To be honest, I think it's pretty cute. " He breathed tenderly next to your ear and didn't even tried to resist the urge to kiss your ear lobe. Very delicate, but sensual. You shuddered at his deep voice and his lips on your ear. You didn't trusted you voice right now, which is why you were silent at first.

“Really, now? As soon as we all are gone, you two literally pounce on each other. Are you so addicted to each other? I thought you were more subtle at least, Kurama. " Yusuke laughed, who came from the shore with a broadly grinning Keiko and gave his kitsune friend a thumbs up.

The two of you separated in a flash and Kurama helped you to tie the top again before clearing his throat to keep his composure and not to appear embarrassed. Your friends had actually found you in a highly ambiguous situation.

“It's not what it looked like. We just put lotion on each other's backs to avoid getting sunburn. ", you explained, but you couldn't explain your bright red head. Yusuke crossed his arms, his grin was almost eerie.

"Oh really? Since when do you put on sun lotion in such an intimate position? " The black-haired man asked further until he got a slap on the back of his head from his fiancée. "Ouch! What was that for now, Keiko? "

“Can't you see that both of them are uncomfortable? Why can't you even think one time before you make any stupid comments? ” Keiko sighed. There were moments when she actually questioned why she loved this guy in the first place.

"Yes .. I'm sorry, I didn't think before I spoke.", Yusuke apologized and held the spot that Keiko had hit.

"Isn't that your permanent condition?" Kuwabara's amused voice came from behind him.

"WHAT WAS THAT, IDIOT?"

".. Brawl Incoming in 3..2 ... 1" and exactly at the 1 of your countdown the two started fighting again .. But at least it took the attention of you and Kurama.

"Woah. Yusuke was right. This beach has a great view and no annoying glances. We can stay here unhindered, Touya. "A familiar male voice suddenly laughed.

“Wrong, I could hang out among humans without attracting attention. You are the one who has visible demon traits. " Touya replied dryly and pointed to the long, sharp ears and the distinctive horn on the forehead of his red-haired companion.

"Jin? Touya? What are you doing here? " Botan asked, now that all friends had returned to the beach blanket.

“Yusuke invited us! And since Koenma is here too, is it okay? ”Jin asked with a grin and crossed his arms behind his head.

"Koenma is here? !!?" Botan's face fell and Jin pointed to a corner on the beach. The friends' eyes met a small lounger there. There he lied. The baby ruler of the spirit world and next to him his constant assistant and messenger, the blue ogre Jorge.

"...."

Everyone turned to Yusuke, who was waving his arms defensively.

“Don't look at me like that! I only invited Jin and Touya! I would never bring the shit-arse(I have absolutely no idea how Yusuke calls Koenma in the english version, I am sorry..) here! I was glad I didn't see his pacifier visage for a few days! " He protested.

"I heard that Yusuke!"

"Pretty good ears for such a small man ..."

The friends shared a soft laugh. You just couldn't be angry with Yusuke for his spontaneous and often idiotic ideas. He was loved for those.

"Oi, Jin! Come here! “ Yusuke called after the wind demon after he was allowed to apologize to Koenma for his disrespect. Oh man, at least the old witch Genkai wasn't there. Then he would have to run the gauntlet, he thought.

Jin obeyed his best friend and floated next to him. "What's up?" He wanted to know.

Yusuke whispered something in his ear and you had an incredibly bad feeling about this thing when you watched them. Because Jin blinked perplexed and then looked at you, which confirmed you in the matter that it was about you what the two were discussing. The cheeky wind demon with the horn grinned broadly and nodded enthusiastically.

Oh no, what was Yusuke up to now ..?

Since that whispering, you kept an eye on the two men. Even Kurama noticed your concentration at some point when you did not respond to his question whether you would like to go into the water with him.

"[Y/n]-chan ..?" He asked worried and put his hand on your shoulder. That touch made you wake up from your trance-like rigidity and stop looking at Jin and Yusuke, who were both playfully wrestling in the sand.

"Huh?" you asked, looking at Kuramas' worried emerald green irises. They exuded so much wisdom, but also devotion and passion. It was very easy to get lost in his gaze.

"Is everything ok? You seem so absent since Jin and Touya got here. Do you feel uncomfortable because they are demons? ”Kurama asked, even if the question was completely nonsensical. He and Yusuke were demons too, and Hiei too. But you knew them much longer and you hadn't had much to do with Touya and Jin.

“Don't talk nonsense, Kurama. Half of my circle of friends consists of demons. " You replied with a smile, referring to the people just mentioned. Kurama smiled in relief at your answer. "Don't worry, I really like Touya and Jin, just .. I have the feeling that Yusuke is up to something stupid again and I'm the one to suffer from it." You sighed.

"Why do you think so?" The redhead wanted to know and also looked at Yusuke and Jin, who were laughing in the sand, both covered with bruises.

"Yusuke whispered something in Jin's ear and then they both looked at me with strange grimaces."

“I can't speak for Jin, but I'm 100% sure with Yusuke that he won't mean you any harm. Don't worry, they both have nonsense on their minds. I take care that their pranks won't escalate. Do you feel more comfortable with that? ”He asked with the most charming smile you ever saw at him. You almost melted away on the spot. This man was just too good for this world .. Sure, he was still a demon, but he would do anything to protect those he loved.

“Much better. Thank you, Kurama. " you replied with a smile that matches his smile, which made Kurama's heart jump with joy.

"Not for that," he whispered back and put his hand on your cheek to gently stroke your cheekbones with his thumb. You leaned into this touch and closed your eyes. "Evening is arriving soon. Wanna come into the water for a bit before it's dark? "

You nodded and Kurama grinned slightly before he lifted you up like a bride and carried you towards the water.

"Kurama .. I can walk alone."You protested meekly as you put your arms around his neck for a better grip.

"I know. But I also want to have a little fun sometimes. “ He chuckled with a cheeky undertone, to which you reacted perplexed, until you were dropped into the cold water without warning.

After you resurfaced, Kurama looked at you with an innocent expression.

"That was mean! At least warn me before you drop me like that. You get that back, foxy."You grinned back and just like Yusuke and Keiko earlier, a playful water fight broke out between the two of you. Who could have guessed that even Kurama found himself in joking around every now and then? He was usually the intelligent, strategic and calm part of the group.

The others watched the goings-on from their place. Yusuke crossed his arms with a grin.

"Have you ever seen Kurama so exuberant and happy?" He asked the others.

"What are you getting at, Urameshi?" Kuwabara asked, cocking his head slightly. Yukina slept cuddled in his arms.

“That's obvious, dumbass. [Y/n] and Kurama are made for each other. As long as I've known him, he's never been like this ... How should I put it ... “ Yusuke stopped to look for the right words. "He's just never taken the initiative with a woman."

"Now that you mention it," the orange-haired paused. “Kurama was always the popular heartthrob at his school, right? But I've never seen him so intimately with a woman."

"Exactly, that's what I mean. Kurama acts different when he's with her. He flirts, he seeks her company. He's completely head over heels for her. " Yusuke explained with a smirk.

"And [Y/n]? Does she feel the same way? ”Touya asked.

“One hundred percent. I'll bet the money I've saved for the wedding. " Yusuke nodded.

"Yusuke .."

"I was just kidding Keiko."

You and Kurama tried to catch each other for a while in the water, competed in swimming competitions to a nearby buoy and finally let the movements fade away by floating on your backs and looking at the sky. You were breathing a little heavily from your activities.

"Next time I'll win," you spoke, referring to the swimming competition. Kurama laughed softly and swam while lying on his back to you until he almost collided with your water-floating body.

"If you ask very nicely, I'll let you win." He said teasingly and you pouted at this answer. This kitsune was getting cheekier, or was that just how it felt?

"Do not show off. You only won because you manipulated the algae with your yoki to slow me down. I felt them wriggling around my legs. That was unfair, you cheater, " you pouted.

Kurama smiled widely and then rose from the lying position.

"And I thought you wouldn't notice," he said and held his hand for you to pull you back to your feet since you weren't that deep in the water.

"You thought wrong. Next time we'll swim in a real swimming pool without plants that give you an unfair advantage. "

"Alright."

You looked at each other briefly and had to laugh before you slowly went ashore. Neither of you had laughed as much as you did today in a long time. Everything was just perfect and harmonious. It could stay that way forever.

As the two of you set foot on the wet sand, which was constantly being hit by the waves, you noticed a strange breeze behind you.

"Wh-", even before you could register it properly, you felt a wet and cold wind around your breasts. And a sense of nudity. Your top was gone!

"JIN ?!" You shouted angrily and covered your breasts with your hands when you looked over you and saw the wind demon grinning mischievously. He was holding the top of your bikini in his hand. "Give that back right away! What's that about?!"

Jin grinned wider and flew far out towards the open sea. He used his demonic speed to be a considerable distance away in a few seconds. After a short time he came back without the top.

“Mission accomplished Yusuke. Bikini top successfully sunk 40 km to the west. "

"I beg your pardon? Yusuke, an explanation please! And you Jin, get my top back, now. "

Yusuke laughed and Jin waved his hands.

"Sorry, I didn't remember where exactly I sank it." Jin apologized and landed at a safe distance.

Yusuke wiped a tear of laughter from his face and looked at you and Kurama, who had stood protectively in front of you.

“Your faces are priceless! Hahaha. Do not be angry. I thought we could make a FFK session, we are all among ourselves, ” he said jokingly. Of course, there were other reasons why Jin should get rid of the top, but he couldn't quite admit that in front of Kurama.

“You damn dipshit.. If I get you .. ”You growled in frustration as Kurama turned to you and put both hands on your shoulders.

"I have an idea," he said with a smile, but you could clearly see the redness of his cheeks. "But you have to take your hands off your body to do this," he mumbled.

You were so red in your face now that the shade of red could measure up to the hair of your fox. Should you bare yourself before him? He was standing in front of you in such a way that the others couldn't see you, but that didn't help your embarrassment in the least when you thought about the fact that he could see your breasts. Kurama noticed your hesitation and stood so close to you that your bodies were almost touching. "I don't look, I promise," he whispered near your ear.

You swallowed, then nodded.

"I trust you, Kurama ..“ you said and loosened your arms as they hung by your sides again and your upper body could now be seen unprotected. Kurama smiled gently at your trust in him and took two seeds from his hair, which he placed on either side of your shoulder.

"Do not Scare. Just trust me. ” He warned you and used his yoki to sprout tendrils from the seeds. You blinked, perplexed, as the tendrils snaked around your breasts like a top and covered them so far that you could see even less than with the bikini. Rose petals adorned the straps above the base of your breast and when Kurama let go of you, he smiled again. "That should serve its purpose."

You looked down at yourself. The "plant top" felt pleasant and exuded the aromatic scent of wild roses, similar to the scent that Kurama always wore. You sighed comfortably and felt the top. No thorns, no holes showing skin. The top was perfect.

"It's perfect! Thank you, Kurama. ”You smiled and leaned forward to give Kurama a gentle kiss on the cheek. Kurama grinned slightly and wanted to hug you when you suddenly broke away and looked at Yusuke and Jin. "Now the two of them are getting a rubdown."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Darkness of the night had now fallen and the smell of grilled meat lingered in the air. The barbeque was in full swing and even Koenma and Hiei joined the group to eat the delicacies that Yusuke and Kuwabara had brought with them. At least the two of them really understood something about barbecuing. Even if the request at Hiei to fan the grill with his fire clearly met a lack of humor on the part of the Koorimes. Someone always goes to the cellar to laugh ...

Everyone was chatting wildly about all sorts of things until you noticed that a certain redhead was missing.

"Where's Kurama?" You asked, slightly worried, since it wasn't the fox's way to just disappear without a word. You immediately regretted the question when you saw Yusuke grinning maliciously. Great, another chance of being teased, now you were the one that gave him a target.

“Do you miss your fox already? Man, you two are really addicted to each other. " he laughed and took a bite of his hamburger with relish. Grilled still tasted best.

"Can't you just save your damn comments for one time? We are just friends. That's all .. ”You sighed, even if you weren't sure who you were lying to. Your friends or yourself.

"Oh come on. It's obvious to everyone here. Even Kuwabara and he has the brain of a protozoan. ”Yusuke said with a nod before Kuwabara tackled him down.

"URAMESHI ..!" He warned and you sighed before you got up.

"[Y/n]-san? I think I saw him walking towards the cliff. Kurama likes to be by himself when he has to think. But he certainly does not disdain your company. " Yukina smiled. You smiled back gratefully and nodded.

"Thank you, Yukina-chan."You said and made your way to the said cliff. Although Yusuke talked a lot of nonsense, he was right about one thing. Yes, you were addicted to Kurama. Yes, you missed him when you didn't see him, even if it was only a few hours. You simply sought his presence, like moths seek light. It was just maddening ..

You didn't have to walk far until you found the cliff ledge and a familiar head of red hair was gently blowing back and forth in the wind. He looked out at the horizon and seemed to be completely in thought. Still, you were sure that he must have noticed your presence when you stepped closer.

"Kurama ..? Are you all right? ”You asked quietly after reaching him and placing a warm hand on his shoulder. Kurama blinked slightly and turned to you. Since you looked so worried, he gave you a dreamy smile to calm you down.

"Yes everything alright. I only enjoy being by myself from time to time, because as much as I like my friends .. After a day like that I'm glad not to have them around, ”he admitted with a laugh.

"Oh." You mumbled. "Would you rather be alone then? I can leave again. "You offered him.

"No no. The others are a little stressful in a long run. You are the big exception. ", He soothed you and took your hand in his.

"Really?"You asked smiling and looked up as Kurama's smile softened and he brought your hand to his lips before caressing your knuckles one at a time with short kisses.

"Absolutely. If there’s anyone I’m never tired of being around, then that’s you, ”he said gently during this soft kisses on your fingers.

"Kurama .."Your voice was quiet and embarrassed and you looked deep into his irises, which shone with such intensity, as if he was looking directly into your soul.

"I'm serious." He said and pulled you closer to him, his lips were on your forehead and caressed the skin lovingly. You closed your eyes and snaked both arms around his hips. You enjoyed this closeness so much that you felt as if your heart was about to burst with bliss. "Come on, let's sit down a little and watch the stars," he said and then pulled away from you as he made himself comfortable on the stone. You sat down right next to him, your feet dangling down and you gazed into the starry sky.

There was a pleasant silence between you for a few moments before you realized you missed the physical closeness that his hugs created. Without thinking too much, you moved closer and leaned your head on his shoulder. Kurama looked at you, he smiled silently and put his arm around you to hold you close. His head rested against yours and both of two let out pleasant sighs before you began to giggle softly.

"Yusuke is obviously right."You began, which made Kurama blink questioningly. "I think we're really addicted to each other .." you added quietly and closed your eyes.

Your eyes opened again when he put his index finger under your chin and lifted your head slightly so that his pair of lips were only millimeters apart.

"You are addicted to me ~?" He asked. You shuddered when you felt his breath against your lips and swallowed lightly. Your heart rate had increased rapidly and your flushed cheeks literally glowed. He looked at you with so much love and desire that you finally ignored all your concerns.

"I'm addicted to you, Kurama .."

Shortly after those words left your lips, the kitsune pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was loving and tender at first to express the feelings you both harbored for each other.

"That's good .." he whispered as he broke the kiss. "Because I'm addicted to you too," he added and sealed your lips with his again. You closed her eyes and put your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Kurama used this moment to pull you onto his lap with his hands on your hips.

That second kiss wasn't quite so innocent when Kurama took your lower lip in his mouth and sucked lightly on it. You gasped into the kiss, which only encouraged Kurama to send his hands on a little exploration. His fingertips danced up and down your sides as light as a feather as the kiss grew deeper and deeper. Kurama licked your lips, a silent request for admission, which you were only too happy to allow him and opened your mouth for him. The kitsune responded to your cooperation with a deep moan as his tongue explored your oral cavity and playfully challenged your tongue to a fight.

You felt this pleasant heat in your body again and Kurama didn't seem to be completely free from the side effects of this hot make out session either, because something hard poked up from his swim shorts and nudged your buttocks.

After that second kiss broke, you were both a little out of breath and leaned forehead to forehead as you looked lovingly into each other's eyes. Kurama smiled and caressed your cheek before he breathed a third, short kiss on your lips.

"I love you. I never thought I'd ever feel this way, but .. It's true. I love you, [Y/n]. “ This confession made the butterflies in your stomach flip over. A big, happy smile was reflected on your lips, which were swollen from the kisses, and you pulled him close to blow kisses on his cheek and lips.

“Kurama, I love you too. You have no idea how much .. " You whispered quietly and happily. He smirked and grabbed your back to pick your up slightly and change the pose again. You was now astride his lap so your legs were next to his hips and your crotch was exactly on his. This stimulated the passion even more.

"I think I can imagine how much."He replied with a grin and leaned forward to kiss your neck. You threw your head back and gasped excitedly. Since when where you so sensitive on her neck? Kurama liked the sounds you were making in desire and kissed other places on your neck until youb started to moan with pleasure. Bull's eye.

Grinning, he sucked, licked and bit into your weak spot of her neck that he had just found to get another delicate moan from you. Your hands tried to grab hold of his shoulders, but soon they dug deep into his fiery red hair and as you pushed him further and further into your neck.

The sound of the sea waves was a pleasant romantic orchestra while you exchanged tender touches and kisses. It all seemed a little surreal to you. Was that really happening right now? Kurama, whom you had loved and desired for so long, sat here with you. Closely embraced, to the beat of love and enjoying the pleasurable tones of the other.

Kurama's touches were only experimental at first. He wanted to find out how far he could go with you. Even if the two of you had such an intimate relationship with each other before, it was a huge step to become more physically intimate. After all, he always behaved well and like a gentleman beforehand. He had never risked a look when you were changing in his room during a pajama party or today when he made your plant bikini top. Even then he hadn't looked.

So how much would you allow him ...?

His fingers gently caressed your shoulder and traced the outer contour of the tendril top. He felt how goosebumps gradually formed on your skin and smiled. He enjoyed the effect he had on you. Meanwhile, your fingers rested on his neck and massaged the skin lovingly. Although it was just a tender scratching, again a quiet purring elicited from Kuramas lips.

"Do you know that you're incredibly cute when you make such noises?" You smiled and kissed his cheek so lovingly that Kurama wouldn't let you get away with such a lame kiss. He put his hand on the back of your head and pulled your head close to seal your lips in an aggressive kiss. His tongue licked your lower lip after that kiss, leaving a trail of wet saliva down to your chin.

"And you should be careful with what you say, if you don't want me to lose control over my actions." He warned teasingly and sucked again at your weak point until you panted with relish.

"Aa-ah .. I don't think I would have a problem with that, Kurama," you replied, your fingertips dancing down his back, where you carefully scratched his skin with your nails. Very soft. Kurama closed his eyes and grinned. He had never felt so comfortable before.

After you had conveyed to him that he could go on, his hand went to your covered chest. He caressed and massaged your mounds gently until the tendrils were a little annoying. With his yoki, he let the locked tendrils apart and pull back so that he had free access to your bare skin. You gasped in surprise when you felt his hand on your bare chest and now saw how the tendrils gave way to his wishes.

"How convenient."You smirked and looked at Kurama with a grin. "Is that just a coincidence or did you already expect this ability to be useful in this way?" You asked him and earned a sensual laugh from your fox.

"It is coincidence. I really just wanted to help you with the top. But that doesn't mean that I'm not grateful for my ability to manipulate plants, ”he replied with a wink and gently pinched your nipples.

“Cunning fox. I like that. "You admitted and enjoyed the caresses from him. Your hands wandered their way forward and felt his biceps. His muscles flexed under your touch and a deep moan escaped his throat when your fingers now caressed his own nipples. He never realized how sensitive he was there. However, it was also the first time that someone touched him like that. At least in Shuuichi Minamino's body. And his human body seemed to react a lot more to a touch than he had previously assumed. Not that he wanted to complain about it ..

"Kiss me." You demanded and Kurama granted your wish without even a second hesitation. His lips caressed yours lovingly as your hands continued to satisfy your chest areas. Your nipples hardened quickly on Kurama's nimble fingers and the fox took advantage of this to stretch the buds between his fingers and pull them lightly with pressure. You gasped softly against his mouth and used this moment to slide his tongue into your mouth and feel every millimeter there. He tapped and nudged your tongue with his to seduce it into a passionate tango. Meanwhile, you continued to stroke his taut nipples and pinched them until Kurama gave a slightly submissive moan.

You broke away after this kiss when a strip of saliva connected your tongues. Kurama bit through this strip so that his lips could fall back to your neck and he placed loving short kisses on your skin. You were again so red in the face that the color of your cheeks could easily measure against his hair. Even Kurama's cheeks had turned a healthy pink from all these activities. It just looked incredibly cute to see the most handsome man you ever saw flushed and aroused. And the reason for his condition were you. That was really just cloud nine ..

“Kuuuuurama !!! [Y/n] !! “Yusuke's shouting brought the two of you out of your ecstasy and Kurama reacted quickly when he restored your vine top. You reluctantly let go of each other and stood up to wait for your black-haired friend running to you while maintaining a somewhat relaxed composure. The last thing you needed now were more remarks from him.

"What's up, Yusuke?", Kurama asked and cleared his throat after this question, as his voice still seemed rather hoarse and thick. You blushed again because Kurama just sounded insolently sexy and erotic.

“We heard the weather report on the radio and there should be a pretty strong storm tonight. Since Hiei has already felt a change, the storm will certainly start earlier and it will be quite dangerous out here on the coast. That's why I ran as fast as I could to get you back. We'd better seek shelter in the beach house for today. At least until the storm is over tomorrow, "Yusuke explained.

“Even if I don't like to just spend the night in someone else's building, we probably have no other choice. Thanks for the warning, Yusuke. “Kurama thanked him and you followed the black-haired man hand holding until you got to the house. The grill and patio furniture had already been moved inside and the others had already split up in some of the rooms. Yusuke and Keiko shared a room, Yukino and Kuwabara too, Botan slept in Shizuru's room, Koenma and Jorge had to share one and Hiei was the only one who slept alone in a room.

When Kurama and you wanted to go into the last remaining room, Yusuke stopped you.

"Wait a minute," he said and rummaged around in his pocket. You looked at each other questioningly until Yusuke found what he was looking for and grinned. "Here, Kurama," he said and tossed something small, square to Kurama. You blinked and Kurama looked emotionless at the palm of his hand. Now you also recognized what this object was. A condom. "After all, contraception is important."Yusuke winked and disappeared into his room before you could hit him with you shoe.

"Idiot .."You sighed annoyed with a bright red head, before Kurama smiled and put his arm around you.

“But we should be grateful to him for this foresight. I have to admit that I'm not prepared for this kind of emergency, ”he admitted with a teasing laugh.

"Kurama .. I would be very disappointed in you, if you were prepared for something like that.", you answered and Kurama smiled before he gave you a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Let's get a little sleep, huh?" He asked, rubbing his nose against yours as he opened the door and walked into the room with you.

That night, you didn't go beyond the experimental touches in the upper area, but Kurama still kept the condom for the future ~

THE END

#Kurama #youko kurama #yoko kurama #Shuuichi Minamino #Minamino Shuuichi #shuichi minamino #Minamino Shuichi #Kurama x Reader #shuichi minamino x reader #Shuuichi Minamino x Reader #Hiei #Kuwabara x Yukina #Yusuke x Keiko #YYH #Yu Yu Hakusho #yuu yuu hakusho

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matchasprouts · 3 years

Text

Listen Closer - Chapter 8

[ i wrote like a madman <//3 sorry besties ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

Garrett hated when his phone ringing woke him up.

He struggled to find it for a moment, before finally slapping his hand onto it. He picked it up off the nightstand, vaguely aware that there were arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Whitlock’s chop shop-” he paused, instinctively launching into one of his fucked up openers as soon as he answered the call. “Sorry. Who is this?”

“Who is this?” an unfamiliar voice replied, and Garrett became significantly more alert, wondering what the fuck was happening. “Why do you have Detective Hoffman’s phone?”

Oh shit. That wasn’t his phone.

“Shit, give me a second,” Garrett said, moving the phone away from him as he turned around in Mark’s arms. “Mark,” he whispered, gently shaking the detective. “Someone’s trying to talk to you.”

Mark groaned in response, but took the phone after a second, pressing it to his ear while still laying down. “Hoffman,” he greeted, his voice gruff and sleepy.

Garrett immediately laid back down and cuddled up to Mark again as soon as he was no longer required to be social, tracing a finger over the detective’s chest as he spoke to whoever it was on the phone, presumably a coworker.

That got him a soft hum from Mark, who moved to wrap an arm around Garrett again. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll be there in 10. Keep an eye on Matthews.” He hung up after that, letting his arm drop back to the bed.

“Job stuff?” Garrett asked as he looked at Mark, smiling when he looked back down at him before nodding. “Man. Sucks to suck, I guess,” he teased, pressing a kiss to one of the newer marks he’d left.

“Yeah, yeah,” was Mark’s reply, pausing for a second to kiss Garrett on the head before he was getting up to get dressed.

Garrett stayed on the bed, simply watching as Mark got his clothes from last night back on. He’s legally obligated to admire his handiwork when he made partners bleed, and BOY did he make Mark bleed.

Mark came around the bed and gave Garrett one last kiss before heading out. Garrett didn’t move until he heard the front door close, followed almost immediately by his alarm. He sighed, wondering if he could just call out of work today.

….. Yeah, he had someone to kill anyway.

---

Garrett honestly loved the Angel Trap. And he told Amanda as much, because sometimes she needed the ego boost.

Kerry was laying unconscious on the ground in front of the trap and behind Garrett, who was admiring the hanging trap. The idea of someone having their ribs ripped out all at once… he loved it.

He pat down his pockets before moving Kerry into the trap, ensuring he had the key that Amanda had given him. Once he was sure he did, he picked the detective up and hoisted her up, holding her up with his shoulder as he strapped her in.

The leather straps were first secured around the top part of her chest and under around her shoulders. Once they were latched on, he didn’t have to hold her up anymore, leaving her dangling.

Next there were the straps around her waist, and then he had to stick each pin into her ribs. The sedative they used was very powerful, so he didn’t worry too much about her waking up despite the pain. He still wore his pig mask, just in case she did.

Slowly but surely, he got each and every pin into each and every rib, right where they were supposed to be.

Kerry was starting to stir. He looked up at the sound of her groaning, hissing under his breath. He scrambled to get the key out of his pocket, dropping it into the beaker of acid hanging in front of her as soon as it was in his hands.

He had to dart out after that, because her eyes were opening and she couldn’t see him. He hid behind one of the pillars in the room, watching silently as she woke up and began to struggle when she realized where she was.

Once he was sure she was completely awake, he played the tape with her message.

“Hello, Kerry. I want to play a game. Up until now, you have spent your life among the dead, piecing together their final moments. You're good at this because you, like them, are also dead. Dead... on the inside,” the tape started, echoing through the room. Kerry had stopped struggling, pausing to listen.

“You identify more with a cold corpse than you do with a living human. I believe you want to join your true family, indeed your only family, in death. The device you are wearing is hooked into your ribcage, and by the time this tape is finished, you will have one minute to find a way out. At the end of that minute... you should know better than anyone what happens then.”

Damn, where did that come from? Garrett didn’t know much about Kerry, but he knew she wasn’t that “dead inside”. At that point it just sounded like an excuse to put her in the trap.

“There is a simple key that will unlock the harness, Kerry. It is right in front of you. All you have to do is reach in and take it. But do it quickly. The acid will dissolve the key in a matter of seconds... Make your choice.”

The tape clicked off at that, and Garrett slipped the recorder back into his bag at the tick of the timer starting. Kerry was struggling again, fighting with the padlock. It took her all of three seconds before she realized the only way out was in the acid.

To her credit, she stuck her hand right in.

She cried out as the acid hit her skin, and Garrett stopped watching. He hated acid, and her screams were more than enough to tell him what was happening.

And then it calmed down, and he looked back. She had gotten the key and was struggling to put it in the lock. She finally did and…

Nothing happened. The lock didn’t move.

Amanda had given Garrett the wrong damn key.

“Shit-!” he yelled, running out to do something to stop the trap, even if he didn’t have the key. He was, however, too late.

The trap activated and the wings spread out, ripping Kerry’s ribs from her torso in a matter of seconds. Garrett just watched, staring at her exposed organs. He slowly pulled the mask off, tossing it to the ground.

“Shit…” he repeated softly to himself, unbothered by the smell of blood but unable to look at Kerry’s face.

Some part of him knew it wasn’t his fault- Amanda had rigged the trap to be inescapable, and didn’t tell him- but he still felt awful for not being fast enough. He should have checked before he put her in there. He thought it was going to be fair.

He’d known Amanda for so long now, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to trust her the same after this, especially not with traps. Either she could put together her own damn traps, or she could make them fair.

Finally, he grabbed his mask and stepped away from the body. He quickly shoved everything of his into his bag, taking one last glance at the dead detective before leaving her for her former coworkers to find.

---

Instead of going home to his apartment, Garrett went straight to the meat packing plant they used as a base. He tossed his bag on the closest chair once inside, heading straight for the room Lawrence stayed in.

“Hey, long time no see,” he said as he opened up the door, grinning when Lawrence looked up at him with a smile.

“I was wondering where you ran off to,” Lawrence replied, even though he knew that Garrett worked during the week. He gestured for Garrett to come into the room, and he did so without hesitation. “How’s work going?”

Garrett groaned loudly at the mention of work, sitting down next to Lawrence on the bed and falling back into the mattress. “I can’t wait to finish the game for my coworkers. This is what they get for being such gossipy bitches.”

Lawrence chuckled softly at his ire, readjusting himself for a second before laying back with Garrett. “Hopefully I’ll get to see it. I’m sorry I missed your first trap. It was an iron maiden, wasn’t it?

“Yeah,” Garrett confirmed. “I wish you could have seen it too, but there’s always the next one, right?”

“Right.” He could see Lawrence smile at the idea, which made him realize that that would be a pretty fucked up date.

Oh yeah. Dates. “How do you feel about polyamory?” Garrett blurted out, immediately mortified with his own bluntness. He felt worse the longer Lawrence was quiet, especially when he remembered that the doctor literally cheated on his wife.

“I suppose it would depend on the other person,” Lawrence finally answered, turning his head to look at Garrett. “Unless you don’t feel like I have to date both of you.”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Garrett assured, relaxing now that he’d gotten an answer. “You totally could if you wanted to, and you won’t have to worry about secrets because he’s an apprentice like me, but you definitely don’t have to.”

Lawrence hummed at that, looking back up at the ceiling. “I’d be willing to try it with you. As long as he’s willing too.”

“I hope he is,” Garrett muttered to himself, and they slipped back into a far more comfortable silence, just happy to be next to each other, even though it had only been a few days since they’d last seen each other.

Garrett could have stayed there forever, but he could hear Amanda and John coming through the door, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before Kerry was found.

He sat up and leaned down to give Lawrence a little kiss before standing up and heading out of the room to see the others.

On the way there, he decided not to confront Amanda, just because he didn’t want to embarrass her in front of John.

In fact, he wasn’t going to bring up the Angel Trap at all, except to say that Kerry failed.

And then his phone rang.

#story tag: listen closer #self ship fic #self shipping #self insert #scrap.writing #scrap.ships #s/i: garrett whitlock #mark hoffman #lawrence gordon #peter strahm #romantic: 🦿🩺#romantic: ⛓🕵️‍♂️#romantic: 🖊💧#(poly) romantic: ⛓🩺🖊#chapter 8

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barnes-dameron · 4 years

Text

I Think of You

Double Sided Facade

Soccer player!Cassian Andor x physical therapist!reader

Summary: You came to this country to learn the language and find work to pay off for school, nothing else. Getting a job as a physical therapist for the National soccer team was a plus and getting to see the star player, Cassian Andor, was a major plus as well. But what happens when your visa expires and immigration is on your tail? Your only hope resides in Cassian, who is more than willing to marry you until you can get your green card. What can go wrong?

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is going to be a series but I don’t know how long will it be. I didn’t explicitly say what country this is taking place in because I want everyone who reads this to feel included. So for example, if you’re from the U.S., you can pretend it takes place in Mexico since Diego Luna is from there. Or if you’re from Mexico, you can pretend it takes place in the U.S. or another country. I want all readers to feel included instead of being excluded. I hope you all enjoy! Let me know if you want to be tagged for future parts.

Catch up: Part One

***

Cassian had to admit to himself that he was starting to panic when he saw your reaction to his insane question. You stood there in front of him, your eyes wide and your mouth open and gaping.

“Cassian,” you let out slowly in a voice just above a whisper. “What are you doing?”

Cassian got up from his stance on the floor to stand in front of you. He needed to be calm and collected, else wise he would spill everything to you.

“I know about your visa,” Cassian revealed. “You can’t leave now. Not when the season is about to start. So I figured the best way for you to stay is marrying a citizen so you can at least get a residency here faster than the usual process.”

Cassian watched your chest rise slowly and fall at the same rate. Your eyes were no longer wide from shock, but were wide with disbelief.

“Cassian, I can’t let you do this,” you whispered. “If someone finds out that the marriage is fake, it could run your career.”

“I’m willing to take that chance,” Cassian replied quickly. meaning every word.

“You would really do this?” you asked, your gaze burning into Cassian, but he welcomed it either way.

“I would,” Cassian said, looking into your eyes and noting the different shades of color. He suddenly found it hard to breathe in that moment. “It’s what’s best for-” He stopped himself before he could say anything else. He was about to say for you, he would do whatever he can, whatever is best for you. But he couldn’t say that, and you couldn’t know. “The team,” he finished. “It’s what’s best for the team.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding your head. “I have to go tell Mon and Bail.”

Cassian let out a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding as he watched you make your way out of the exam room to the door. So this was happening. It wasn’t how he imagined it in his head. He always thought he would propose to you on the beach after a night of dinner and dancing. The moon would be shining bright, casting its reflection on the navy blue waves. The sand would still be warm under your feet. It would’ve been perfect. Of course, he imagined asking you to marry him would occur after two years of dating and learning everything about you. But life doesn’t come out the way you plan doesn’t it?

Cassian turned around in the room, looking for where he put his shoes before participating in the therapy. But the next thing he knew, you were wrapping your arms around his neck, and fitting your head against his neck. Cassian was shocked from both the embrace and the closeness. However he welcomed the warmth that radiated off of you and the sweet scent from your shampoo.

“Thank you,” you mumbled into his neck. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

As quickly as you appeared before him, you left, leaving him a gaping mess as he processed what just happened. He kicked himself for not reciprocating the action. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and bring you closer to him. He wanted to press his head against yours, and leave you a kiss. But instead he was shocked from the action, and stood there like a tree. Well, hopefully the opportunity would present itself again.

***

You traced the wood pattern of the table as Anderson’s voice droned on and on in the Rebel’s conference room. It’s been about two weeks since Cassian’s proposal, and once you told Mon and Bail, they sent out for Anderson to draw up the marital contract.

You sat at the long oak table listening to Anderson, who sat at the head of the table. Alongside you was your own lawyer, diligently taking notes on her pad. After revealing everything that happened to you to Jyn, she recommended for you to get your own lawyer in case someone “tries to screw you over,” her words. Across the table sat Cassian, dressed in a suit instead of his usual uniform which you were so used to seeing him in. You secretly scolded yourself from admiring the way he looks in it. Does he have to look good in everything he wears? He was sitting next to his own lawyer who was also taking notes.

“So in summary,” Anderson finally said, grabbing your attention at last. “Mr. Andor and Ms. L/N will marry as soon as possible so his citizenship would cover her for a time period of one year. During the time period, Ms. L/N will be required to live with Mr. Andor in order to make the marriage look authentic and in the case an immigration worker makes a surprise home visit. After the one year time period, they are free to divorce. Is there anything that the parties would like to present?”

“Yes,” your lawyer jumped in as soon as Anderson finished. “My client would like to propose that she and Mr. Andor will get an annulment instead of a divorce, for personal reasons.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks when your lawyer announced that. You really didn’t want to get a divorce, the idea of divorcing someone without a good reason bothered you. Plus the divorce could bring unwanted publicity since you would be divorcing the captain of the major soccer team in the country, and there could be a possibility that someone will unveil the true nature of your fake relationship.

You watched Anderson’s brow furrow together, his pen trembling a bit in his hand.

“Well,” Anderson said, still processing the request. “The only grounds for annulment for the two parties would be failure to consummate the marriage.”

“That’s right,” your lawyer replied confidently, her spine straight and her gaze icy. That was another personal reason. It’s not that you didn’t want to have sex with Cassian, but you were sure that he doesn’t have any intention to be with you intimately. He wasn’t doing this whole thing for you anyway, it was for the team. You figured it would be best for the both of you to try and maintain your mutual friendship as long as possible, not to make it any more awkward then it needs to be. “Since my client works closely with Mr. Andor, we thought it might be best that they maintain their professional relationship.”

“I see,” Anderson said, turning his attention to Cassian’s side of the table. “Does the other party agree with this proposal?”

“Yes,” Cassian replied, not waiting to discuss with his lawyer who seemed to be annoyed with him.

“Very well,” Anderson concluded, making a note on his pad. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes,” Cassian’s lawyer spoke up. “We would like to propose that Ms. L/N will sign a prenuptial agreement in order to protect the wealth and properties of my client.”

You felt like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over your head. A part of you couldn’t believe that Cassian would think you would take half of his money and belongings. Does he really think that lowly of you? However at the same time, you understood why he would do it. It’s only temporary, you reminded yourself.

“Understandable,” Anderson said, turning his gaze to you and your lawyer. “Does the other party agree with this proposal?”

“Yes,” you affirmed, pressing your lips into a fine line.

You never thought this was how your marriage would start off...with a legalized contract and lawyers. Every little girl’s dream.

“Very well,” Anderson said, making another note. “If there is nothing else, I will go ahead and add these points so that it is ready to be signed tomorrow. As for now, you are dismissed.”

You watched as Anderson packed up his documents into his briefcase before leaving the room. As you watched him walk out, you silently wondered how big is the stick that seems to be shoved up in his ass. Your lawyer gave you a small goodbye as she too left the room with her briefcase. You took a deep breath, glad that this meeting was over. You bent down to grab your bag, and when you stood back up, you were met with Cassian’s stance right in front of you.

“Hey,” he started, his hands shoved into his pants pockets. “I was wondering if you were still free for tonight?”

Over the past two weeks, you and Cassian have been going out to dinner in order to learn more about each other so you can make your marriage look real. Neither of you know what kind of questions the immigration agent will ask, so you had to learn everything about each other, inside and out. It’s been nice, but after every dinner, you had to remind yourself that it was all fake. Your relationship is fake, the marriage will be fake, but you couldn’t help to feel real feelings. The dinners were a facade for the public, but at times the facade fooled you as well. Fooled you to think that it was real, and gave you false hope that anything could happen.

“Yeah,” you replied, ignoring the butterflies that were erupting in your stomach.

“Great,” Cassian said, a small grin appearing on his face, making your knee go weak. “I’ll pick you up around six.”

“Great,” you repeated. “I’ll see you then.”

You gripped the strap of your bag, and made your way out of the room towards the elevators, not bothering to give Cassian a goodbye. As soon as you got into the elevator, you pressed your head against the wall. You can’t catch feelings. You can’t risk this, and mess it up for both you and Cassian. But you couldn’t help but think about Cassian’s smile when hearing you were free. He smiled...

***

Cassian waited outside in front of your apartment building, leaning against his car. He would’ve gone up to get you, but you begged him not to. The first time he took you out, he came to your door. Some of your neighbors caught sight of him and instantly recognized him, which led to autographs and pictures and caused you two to be late to the dinner reservation. After that, you told him not to come up again, and he respected your wishes.

His head snapped up when he heard the building door open. Cassian’s stomach dropped to the street and every rational thought in his mind disappeared into the abyss. The only thing he could focus on was you. You were wearing a flowing magenta off the shoulders dress. The length ended just a little below your knee, revealing your smooth beautiful legs. You wore your hair naturally with a flower behind your right ear. Your stride was graceful and confident, like a queen. All the air escaped Cassian’s lungs, and he felt heat blooming in his core as well as his cock hardening.

“Hi,” you greeted. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Cassian got out, struggling to find proper words. “Let’s go.”

Cassian opened the passenger door for you, trying to think of things to calm himself down. The drive to the restaurant was silent. You didn’t say anything, just looked out the window, and Cassian couldn’t think of anything to say to you in that moment. He was still in shock of your beauty. He always thought you were a beautiful woman, but tonight you were strikingly gorgeous. The past couple of dinners, Cassian wanted them to be a date without an impending marriage hanging over your heads. But now, he desperately wanted tonight to be a date. He wanted to hold your hand, to hug you close, and to kiss you with everything he has. But then he remembered the annulment that you requested. He can’t have what he truly wanted. He was Tantalus and you were a delectable fruit. He could only admire the thing he wanted most, but knows he will never get it.

Cassian walked behind you as the two of you entered the restaurant. It was softly lighted, creating a romantic ambiance to the place that he originally didn’t intend. The place was near the beach, the gentle lapping of the waves heard in the background when the violinist was in between songs. Cassian has never been to this restaurant, and he mentally cursed Kay for suggesting this place. This place will only make it harder to suppress his feelings toward you.

The waiter sat you both at a table that was close to the beach and near the violinist. The candle light from the center of the table casted a soft glow on your face, bringing out your gentle features. Cassian had to be sure to take deep breaths every once in a while. This would be the last dinner as colleagues before becoming husband and wife. The thought still shocked Cassian.

“So that meeting today,” you said, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah,” Cassian let out, trying to think of something else to say. “Kinda crazy right?”

“I know,” you replied. “I just hope nothing changes between us.”

That comment hit Cassian like a bullet in the chest. So it was clear, you didn’t want anything else with him. He always thought that was how you felt, but hearing you actually say it hurts even more.

“Yeah,” Cassian agreed. “It’s only for a year anyways, it’ll be over before we know it.”

Cassian felt a pang in his heart when you pressed your lips into a thin line. This whole thing was crazy. Cassian knew he would fall deeper in love with you as this time goes by, which would make the split hurt more. He would be worse off next year compared to now. Cassian thought he was broken now, but once you walk away from this fake relationship, he will be shattered. Cassian couldn’t concentrate on the items on the menu, and decided to order whatever the chef recommends.

“Cassian,” you said, placing your hand on top of his softly, gently grabbing his attention. He felt an electric shock upon the touch, making it hard for him to concentrate. “Are you sure you want to do this? You could still back out, we didn’t sign the contract yet.”

Of course he wanted to do this. Sure you two would only be husband and wife on paper, wouldn’t be an actual couple, wouldn’t exchange blissful kisses, or even have sex. But he would still get to see you every day and night, and that was enough for him.

“I’m sure,” Cassian affirmed. “This is what’s best.” Cassian fumbled his other hand around in his pants pocket, reaching for the small velvet box. It was Anderson’s idea to make a formal proposal in public in order to get the support of the fans. They needed to get the public’s support so no one would dare question the nature of your marriage. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, rubbing your hands over your thighs. “Let’s do this.”

Cassian nodded, getting out of his seat and kneeling on one knee before you, the second time. He heard the collective gasps and “oh my gosh’s” of the other restaurant patrons. He saw the flashes of people taking pictures from his peripheral vision, and heard the whispers of others saying “Is that Cassian Andor from the Rebels?” The plan was working. Cassian brought out the navy blue box, presenting it to you, and opening it to reveal a dazzling two karat diamond ring. He had to admit it to himself, he found it fun picking out a ring for you. He wanted to get you something that was impressive but no too over the top. When his eyes landed on the chosen ring, he knew it would be perfect for you. But some of the dread washed up against him. At some point in the future he’ll have to return it. For now, however, he pushed those thoughts aside.

“Y/N L/N,” Cassian began. “Love of my life, my only one, will you marry me?”

He watched you bring both your hands to cover your mouth in shock, before pressing them against your heart. A smile spread across your face as tears formed in the corner of your eyes. You nodded your head, pretending to be at a loss for words then strangling out a quiet “yes.” You were a good actress.

Cassian smiled in turn, placing the ring on your finger as the small crowd around him applauded. He placed his hand along your jaw, bringing your lips to meet his. This was his first kiss with you, and he never wanted it to end. Your lips were smooth and soft to the touch, intoxicating if anything. But he pulled back, not wanting to get caught up in the action. He smiled at you when he broke away, watching as you did the same.

So this was it, the beginning of a long journey which would leave Cassian an utter mess. For a moment, however, he got caught up in the scheme. For a moment, he felt like he was actually proposing to you. For a moment, he felt that your yes was genuine. For a moment, he felt that your returned kiss matched his feelings. But it was all a lie; a coping mechanism for the impending future.

Cassian turned around, facing the multiple cameras and smiling with your hand in his. He nodded to some who waved, and thanked those who gave him congratulations.

And this is only the beginning, Cassian thought to himself.

To be continued...

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor #rogue one #star wars #sw #series #fluff #angst #love #diego luna #diego luna x reader

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mrsdeanwinchester19 · 4 years

Text

Talk is Cheap

Written for @imanuglywombat 4k writing challenge

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: Bucky takes his wife on a second honeymoon after their first was cut short. During the trip, an unexpected visitor arrives

Type: Fluff with some scary parts

Warnings: Gun violence, mentions of holocaust, mentions of sex trafficking, like 1 swear word

Author’s Note: The story mentioned about a Holocaust victim is 100% true, I know the woman personally

Prompt: Mountain moodboard/ Talk is cheap by Nick Murphy; Talk is cheap my darling/ When you’re feeling right at home/ I wanna make you move with confidence/ I wanna be with you alone

Actions speak louder than words. It means jumping in front of a bullet, rather than just saying I would take a bullet for you. This is a lesson I learned the hard way, but ironically, it also turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

My now ex-boyfriend David and I were at a bank on a regular day of the week, going to pull out some money out for a vacation fund. Five masked men came into the bank, armed and shouting for everyone to get down. I got on my knees slowly and put my hands behind my head as they instructed us to do.

One of the robbers walked up to the front counter and pointed his gun at the teller. “Open the vault,” he says in a low voice.

“I can’t sir. The vault can only be opened by a fingerprint scan and none of our fingerprints are registered in the system to open it. I’m only authorized to pull out $15,000 at once,” she replies, close to tears.

“Fine then, get to work on that, and you-“ he says, pointing his gun to a young man standing next to the coin counting machine, “There has to be an override code for the vault somewhere in the bank. Open all the offices for my men to look. Ares! Apollo! Go with him!” Two of the men follow the man to the offices in the upstairs half of the bank, both pointing their guns to his back.

While the teller was gathering as much money as she could, one of the men came over to my boyfriend and me. “Give me your phone and your wallet,” he says to me.

“I don’t have them,” I say honestly. “You can check if you don’t believe me.”

It’s then that I notice the emblem on his jacket. A red skull with six tentacles coming out of it. A symbol that always confused me, because a hydra has multiple heads, not tentacles like an octopus. It makes sense now why the leader called two of them the names of Greek gods, considering the hydra is from Greek mythology. However, as a historian and not a mythologist, it’s a symbol I learned about when we discussed Nazi Germany, where HYDRA got its start. This isn’t just regular HYDRA then, it’s their small elite force that robs banks to pay for their diabolical schemes. I let out an aggravated huff of breath when I realize who it is we’re dealing with, horrified that they’ve come back after Captain America took them down TWICE.

“Stand up,” he says. I slowly get to my feet. “Turn around.” I do as he says, a tear escaping my cheek as I realize he’s going to kill me, considering this is how many are executed when a socialist regime takes over a country. I interviewed a woman once who fled Poland when they were invaded by the Nazis, and she spoke of a time when she was in the woods picking berries and saw a group of Jewish people in front of a trench, and Nazis shot them into the trench one by one.

“And you, stand up,” he says, and from the corner of my eye, I see my boyfriend standing up as well. We look over at him and I can see the same fear reflected in his eyes, though they don’t tell him to turn around. “Lift her shirt up.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion as I feel David’s hands grasp the hem of my red blouse and start slowing lifting it. He lifts it up to where my bra strap is on my back, before the man stops him. “Turn around again lady,” he instructs, before telling David to lift my shirt again. Now I understand what he’s doing, he’s checking to make sure I don’t have a phone, wallet, or gun hidden in the waistband of my pants. He lifts it up to just under my bra again, but the man motions for him to raise it a little higher. He brings it above my bra, showing my cleavage. I close my eyes in embarrassment.

“Women don’t actually keep money in their bras anymore,” I say bitterly once I’ve opened my eyes.

“Don’t get sassy with me miss. You can put her shirt down now.” He turns to my boyfriend. “Where’s your phone and wallet?”

David’s eyes flitter to mine for a brief second. “I don’t have mine either.”

“I don’t believe that,” he says venomously.

A new voice shouts, “Zeus, we found the manual key for the vault!”

They’re using code names, which means there’s a chance they’ll let us go, because we can’t identify their faces or give real names. However, once they get the money, there’s also a high chance that they kill all witnesses. Or, if the teller pressed a silent alarm and the police are already here, they could keep us as hostages for hours.

As the man pointing the gun at us is distracted by the person who found the key, David steps behind me, shoves me towards the man, and tries to run to the front door. The person sees movement, shoots blindly, and an intense pain bursts from my abdomen. I fall over, and the man shoots David in the back before he reaches the door.

I hear someone outside shout “Shots fired!” and the doors burst open. A familiar red, white, and blue shield comes through the door, followed by a suit of red and gold metal, and a man dressed in all black, a gun bigger than the robbers’ held by his metal arm. The robbers don’t shoot the other few people in the bank, considering Iron Man has miniature missiles on his shoulders aimed at each of them.

“They say third time’s a charm, maybe you’ll actually stay dead this time,” Captain America says.

“Mmmm, not your best work,” Iron Man says to him.

Captain America ignores him, “Put down your guns.” They put down their guns, but two of the men fall over. They must still keep poison pills in their teeth. The police run in and arrest the three men who didn’t kill themselves, while Captain America and Iron Man look at David to see if he’s alive. The man in black rushes over to me and puts his flesh hand on my wound, causing me to groan in pain. “She needs an ambulance!”

“You’re Bucky Barnes,” I say, recognizing him from my history classes.

“Yeah, I am,” he says, clearly surprised I recognized him.

“I’m a historian…with a concentration on World…War II,” I say through gasping breaths.

“Alright doll, just save your energy, you can’t go to sleep,” he replies gently, as if he’s soothing a small child.

“I always…knew…you were the good guy,” I say slowly before the world goes black.

“Almost done packing babe?” Bucky asks, peeking his head into our room.

“I just finished packing my clothes. Did you pack the weapon bag?” I ask. Some people think it’s weird that we bring a bag of weapons on vacations, but when your husband is an ex-assassin with 80+ years of enemies, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“No, I told you this place is so safe we don’t even need guns,” he replies, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

I sigh, “Alright if you say so. I’m just happy we’re going on a relaxing vacation. You’ve had too many missions lately and my job has been stressful as well.” Columbia University asked museums in the area for a historian who could teach a class about World War II, and to apply for the job, we have to write a dissertation. Luckily, I have someone from World War II with me to answer any questions I have, but it’s taken up a lot of my time.

“Relaxing, but also exciting!”

“What?” I ask, exasperated. “Bucky I need time to lounge around on a beach or cuddle by a fireplace in a cabin or something. This is supposed to be our second honeymoon.”

Our first honeymoon had been to Belize. About halfway through our trip, duty called. We called the rest of the Avengers and spent the rest of our honeymoon breaking up a huge sex trafficking ring. We saved over 30 girls, and were happy about it, but our honeymoon was supposed to be our time to celebrate our marriage away from crime. And we love the team to pieces, but it was also our time to be away from them and the tower. They say bad guys don’t take days off, but I had at least hoped the world could survive without my husband for a while. I’m no agent or Avenger, but after Bucky and I started dating, he taught me over 100 different ways to defend myself, helped me train, taught me about guns and how to properly use them, and how to disarm a gunman within seconds. I was able to help destroy the sex trafficking ring by being bait, which was scary, but I trusted Bucky and the rest of the team to keep me from harm; and they did.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, doll. It’ll be relaxing during the day, but exciting at night because I have a bunch of new things I want to try in the bedroom,” he says, nibbling on my earlobe.

It tickles and I giggle. “You got some kinks you didn’t tell me about before we were married?” I ask jokingly.

He spins me around to face him before gently pushing me on the bed. “I didn’t want to scare you off before,” he says playfully, dropping onto me but not letting his full weight land on me. He grabs my wrists and pins them above my head. “Now that you’re legally bound to me, if you want to leave, it’s gonna cost ya.” I laugh and he flashes a brilliant smile. He leans his head down and starts kissing me deeply.

“Hey guys I-woah, sorry!” Steve’s voice says, panicked.

“Steve, you’re fine, Bucky’s just being silly. We’re decent!” I say, pushing Bucky off of me and sitting up.

He walks back into the room, face flushed from embarrassment. “Sorry, I just came to say that I filled your gas tank and took the liberty of putting your bags in the car, except that one,” he says, pointing to my duffel bag.

“Oh thank you Steve!” I say.

“Would you like me to take that one for you as well?”

Bucky replies before I do, “No, I’ve got it! You’re not the only gentlemen around here Steve. I can be chivalrous too, she’s my wife.”

Steve raises his hands in surrender, gives a small smile, and backs away.

“You didn’t have to be so sassy,” I say, lightly slapping his bicep.

“Steve always interrupts us right when things were about to get good,” he pouts.

“No, things were not about to get good. The door was wide open and we need to leave so we can get there before dark.”

“You are excited, aren’t you?” he asks rhetorically.

“I’m just happy you’re actually taking me on this second honeymoon.”

“I said I would!”

“I know, I’m just used to people saying they would do things and then not following through,” I say, thinking back to David, who was always making empty promises. I then compare it to Bucky, who has kept every promise he’s ever made me.

I sit mostly upright in my hospital bed, mindlessly flipping through channels. I stop Law and Order: SVU, but quickly change the channel when a character is shot. Baseball it is. There are two small taps on my door. “Come in,” I say.

A nurse walks in the door. “You have a visitor here to see you.” She walks back out the door, and Bucky Barnes takes her place.

“Hi,” I breathe out and a smile breaks out across my face. “What are you doing here?”

He frowns slightly, but then fixes his expression. “You were pretty out of it in the ambulance, but you regained consciousness for a little while. I told you I would come visit you in the hospital. I hope that’s ok. I brought you these,” he says, holding up a colorful bouquet of wildflowers.

“It’s completely ok, and thank you so much, that’s so sweet of you.”

“I figured you could use a little something to brighten the place up, but it looks like I’m not the only one who had the idea,” he says, gesturing to the three other bouquets that my family and my coworkers sent me.

He sets the vase down on the bedside table. I lean over a tiny bit take a deep breathe to try and smell them, since I can’t twist my torso over to them. However, once I do, I grab my neck and start gasping for air. His eyes widen with worry. “Sunflowers…allergic,” I spit out.

“Oh shit, I’ll go get a nurse!” he says, quickly standing up.

My gasping turns to laughing, and he stops, turning around. “I was kidding. You should’ve seen your face,” I say. I begin laughing harder when he pouts, but immediately regret it. “OW!” I put a pillow over my stomach to keep a little pressure on the wound.

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and rolls his eyes, but is smiling. “At least you have a sense of humor.”

“They say laughter is the best medicine, though maybe that isn’t true when you have a GSW on your abdomen.”

“You’re just lucky it didn’t hit any major organs. How long is your sentence?” he asks.

“If this is jail, it’s a pretty nice one. And they said at least two weeks, but it might go longer. If it had hit major organs, they said it would’ve been 5 weeks, if not more.” He hums in agreement but doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “Hey, if I ask you this, will you be honest with me? Everybody around me has been walking on eggshells and avoiding answering this question, so I can probably guess what the answer is.”

He looks apprehensive but says, “I can try. What’s up?”

“My boyfriend, David, is he dead?”

Bucky looks around uncomfortably, “Look, I don’t know if I’m the right person to ask this to…”

“If you’re worried you’ll break my heart with the news, don’t be. Because whether he’s alive or dead, the relationship is over.”

“Why do you say that?” he asks, eyes narrowed in both suspicion and confusion.

“Because he’s the reason I’m in this hospital bed. He pushed me towards the shooter so he could run away. He’s a coward. So if he is dead, then whatever. I know it’s poor to speak ill of the deceased, but he did try to sacrifice me to save himself. And if he’s alive, it’s over. He showed his true colors.”

He doesn’t speak for a few seconds. Probably trying to figure out how to best phrase it, or find out if I actually mean what I said. He very quietly says, “He didn’t make it. The bullet hit his right lung and it collapsed; they weren’t able to save him. He went through 3 hours of surgery before his heart gave out.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“For what?”

“Being honest with me. I’m a little tougher than people give me credit for.”

A small smile creeps onto his face. “I’m sure you are.”

“Talk is cheap, my darling. Anyone can say something and not mean it. My ma taught me never to break promises if I can help it,” Bucky says.

“Your mom sounds like a lovely lady,” I say, giving his cheek a kiss. “I wish I could have met her. I wish I could’ve met your father too. And your siblings.”

“Steve is just as much my brother as my actual siblings were, so at least you met one family member of mine. But my folks woulda loved you. Ma would be happy to see I finally settled down with an amazing woman, and maybe a baby on the way soon?” he asks hopefully.

“Buck, I told you I want to wait until two years after we got married, then I’ll pop out as many babies as you want, as long as that number isn’t over 5. 5 is the absolute most I would have.”

“I think 3 would be good. But I still want to get started as soon as possible!”

“Ugh, Bucky, what am I gonna do with you?” I rhetorically ask, laughing.

“I could make a list,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “But c’mon doll, I’m not getting any younger here!”

“Oh please, you’re over 100. I think you can wait one more year. They say waiting two years is good for your marriage when the stress from babies comes because then you have more happy times to look back on.”

“Oh screw the studies,” he says, sitting on the bed. He lightly grabs my hips and pulls me to stand between his legs. “My parents got married and nine months later I popped out, and they were still married when I went to war. It doesn’t matter how long you wait before having kids, it’s the people. You gotta be willing to work through the hard times.”

“And you know I am,” I say, running my fingers through his hair. “But we should get going. We can continue this conversation when we’re back. I want to be alone with you.”

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

“Ok, this text from Steve says the key is hidden in the bear’s mouth,” Bucky says. He grabs my hand and we walk up to the plain but nice cabin. It’s sunset, so it isn’t quite dark out, but there’s not enough light to be outside. There’s a small statue of a bear sitting on a stump on the front porch that says WELCOME. Bucky reaches in the bears slightly open mouth and pulls out a key. “That’s deeper than it looks.”

He unlocks the front door and I’m about to walk in but he stops me. “What? Tony said the place wasn’t booby trapped,” I say. This is Tony’s cabin, but Steve acted as a mediator between Bucky and Tony. Tony allows him on the team and to live in the tower, but he won’t go out of his way to talk to him. Cordial but not friendly.

“No it’s not that.” He suddenly picks me up bridal style. “Gotta carry my wife across the threshold.”

“Oh please Bucky, that’s for when you move into your first house together, not a honeymoon redo.”

“I don’t care, I’m gonna do it anyways,” he says.

“You’re ridiculous,” I say as he sets me down inside. As he shuts the door, I look around. An open concept downstairs area with a high end kitchen. The living room has a vaulted ceiling and an enormous fireplace. At the end of the living room there’s a staircase that leads to what I’m assuming is the bedrooms.

“So should we unpack tonight or wait until tomorrow and just go to bed?” Bucky asks.

“Bed? But I’m not tir-oh,” I say when I see him giving me a suggestive look, biting his lip. “You know what, let’s go to bed.” He picks me up and starts running towards the master bedroom.

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

A loud bang wakes me from my sleep. I lift my head, listening, and am about to go back to bed, thinking I imagined it when I hear the sound of glass shattering. Is someone breaking in? I sit up, holding the blanket to my bare chest and listen more. It’s silent for a few seconds but then thumps like footsteps are heard. “Bucky,” I say, nudging my husband’s arm. He grunts in response. “Bucky!” I say, shaking his arm harder.

“Go back t’sleep,” he mumbles. I grab my pillow and slam it on his face. He wakes up immediately. “What?” he asks, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“I think someone’s in the house,” I whisper.

“Babe, it’s probably just house settling noises. Let’s cuddle until we fall back asleep,” he says, laying down and grabbing my waist in an attempt to pull me back down to the bed too, but I resist. The distinct sound of a frying pan being dropped on the door makes him shoot up in bed. “Ok, nevermind, those aren’t house settling noises. You stay here, I’ll go check it out.” He climbs out of bed and grabs his joggers off the floor. He quietly steps into those before going over to his nightstand and grabbing a knife. He flips it in his hand before gripping it tightly.

“I thought you said no weapons,” I whisper.

“I said no guns, not no weapons. Plus, this was already here; I left it here when Steve and I went on our fishing trip.”

As he walks out, I grab his t-shirt and my underwear and throw them on just in case we have to run. I nervously clutch the sheets as I wait for Bucky to come back. After about 15 seconds, the door noiselessly opens and Bucky walks through, looking oddly calm. He shuts the door behind him. “Y/N, call 911.”

I grab my phone from the nightstand and quickly dial 911. As I do that, Bucky grabs an armchair and puts it in front of the door.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

Bucky pulls the phone from my ear because he didn’t tell me what’s wrong. He starts speaking quietly. “Hi, we’re in the Stark cabin out on 360th street. There’s bears in our kitchen.”

Are you serious I mouth at him. He nods his head. I can hear the woman on the phone tell us to stay in our bedroom, stay quiet, and that officers will be right out. He thanks her and hangs up. He gently sets the phone down on the nightstand and sits down in front of me on the bed, facing away, blocking me in case the bear breaks into our room. I wrap my arms around his bare waist and set my chin on his shoulder. “How many bears are there?”

“Three. There were two cubs pulling things out of the cabinets and I was planning to just scare them away when I saw momma bear coming through the door. I came back up here after I saw her, and I’m not about to knife fight a bear. I must not have closed the door fully when we got here.”

“You promised this trip would be safe, you broke your first promise.”

He turns around and gives me a disbelieving look. I shrug my shoulders and then give him a small smile so he knows I was just joking around. I lift my hands from his flat stomach up to his shoulders. “Bucky you’re really tense,” I say quietly.

“Because there’s a family of bears downstairs!” he harshly whispers.

“But the police are on their way, they’ll take care of it. They probably deal with this kind of stuff all the time.” I begin rubbing his shoulders and he relaxes a little, but just barely.

After about 10 minutes, and more sounds of things breaking, we can see red and blue flashing lights coming from the window, but no siren. They probably didn’t turn it on so the bears wouldn’t get agitated. There are three distinct thuds heard. A few minutes pass and someone calls out “You guys can come out!”

“I’ll go talk to them, you stay here, you’re not dressed and we left out bags in the car.” He walks out the door and I can hear him greet the officer. I decide I want to see what’s going on, so I grab a throw blanket and wrap it around myself before following Bucky. He turns around when he hears me coming down the stairs and holds out his hand for me like Jack on the Titanic. I grab his hand so I don’t trip over the blanket.

I look around and see the entire downstairs in disarray. The couch that probably cost my entire salary is shredded with stuffing hanging out everywhere and a broken lamp next to it. Glasses are broken on the kitchen floor and pots have been pulled out of the cabinets. The fridge door is open and food is littered on the floor around it. Chairs are turned over and the hardwood floors are scratched up. I look outside and see all three bears in cages.

The officer is explaining what happened. “When we arrived and shot the momma bear with a tranq dart, the baby bears freaked out and started tearing up the sofa. We got them as quick as we could so that they didn’t destroy even more things. They’ll be relocated and hopefully won’t come back to this house.”

“Thank you, officer,” Bucky says. The officer bows his head and leaves.

We silently look around for a moment before I say, “Tony’s gonna kill us.”

“Yep.”

“Well, you were right, this trip is exciting at night!”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #avengers #imagine #vacation #winter soldier #white wolf #steve rogers #ironman #captain america #tony stark #writing challenge #fluff #uglywombat4kchallenge

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bittybattybunny · 4 years

Note

Please lemme read Cafe Latte!

Order up!!!

Alright so here’s what I had written for this before I dropped the project to focus on TLC and then swapped to the Mermaid Plot instead for Hattie’s parents

I also included the Synop I originally wrote when it was gonna be posted on Ao3 if I finished it

So A Time Traveler, her older inter-dimensional Demon brother, and a lawyer walk into a Cafe---

Arulius Law was a tired law student trying his best to manage school work and his Controlling girlfriend Vanessa. His life changed when a girl's dog ran into him in the park! Meeting that same girl again when walking home, he got dragged through a time rift and the two are trying to fix the matter together!

“Damnit, Damion! HEEL!” The young woman shouted as she ran after the great dane.

The poor young man who sat below the tree looked up a moment too late as he was barreled into by the slobbering pooch. He coughed as the dog placed its tongue all over him, covering him in drool. He wiped his face as the dog was abruptly pulled off of him by the very angry looking girl.

“Bad Dog!” She chided, clicking the chain around his neck, “Honestly I shift hands for five seconds to answer my phone and you book it!” she sighed, holding a hand to the young man while tightly holding the dog’s leash in the other, “Sorry About that Sir.”

He took her hand, standing upright and dusting off. She blinked in shock as he stood above her, not having expected him to be so tall.

“It’s fine. He spoke in a deep voice, unbefitting of his thin frame, “I chose a bad spot to study!” he laughed it off, cackling.

She began to laugh with him, placing her hand on her hip, “Still, I should have had a better grip on him. Sorry about it.”

“No one but the bacteria on my face got hurt, so I don’t see any need to apologize.” he cracked his back stretching, “I needed to get up for class anyway.” he checked his watch, “I have a lecture in about 20 minutes. Perfect time to get a coffee.”

“How About I treat you?” She offered, “Since he did take your kisses.” She snickered a bit. She brushed a loose strand of black hair behind her ear.

He thought about it for a moment. Vanessa wouldn’t mind, right? It was just a coffee as an apology?

He sighed, “yeah sure.” he grinned, “Anything for bean water.”

“Rad.” She smiled, sharp teeth peeking when she did, “Lead the way!” She laughed.

He grabbed his backpack from the grass, shoving his open books into it and began to walk towards the west of the park, “There’s a nice cafe this way owned by a lovely screaming couple. Dead bird Cafe.” he explained as they walked, “one of the owners is this older gentleman who’s always screaming, but he makes the best dark roast ever.” he grinned.

“Dead bird Cafe,” she repeated thinking about it. She snickered, “So that’s how it is.” She giggled brushing her thick hair behind her ear only to have it bush back. She groaned, “I need a haircut.”

“I feel you on that.” He laughed loudly, brushing his own back, “My girlfriend likes my hair long though so I leave it.” he sighed, “Long curly hair on a legal defendant doesn’t look good. I feel I look so unkempt.”

“If you want unkempt try having these cowlicks!” she chuckled as she ran a finger through the shorter parts of her hair, “At least yours looks on length! I can’t get mine to grow more than a weird mullet!” She sighed heavily, the dog she was walking barking his two cents. The two laughed as they made it to the western disco cafe.

She paused outside, trying to withhold a laugh, “What is this decor?!” She was holding her stomach as she laughed, bright blue eyes watering.

“Yes it…. It is a little. Different.” he admitted opening the door, “Let me see if your dog can come in.” He headed inside, “Conrad?” he asked as he walked in, “DJ?”

“Aye if it ain't the bean pole! What canne aye getcha today?” the golden-haired man asked as he was wiping out a cup. He sat behind the counter, looking out the door. The young woman was busy talking on her phone, seeming visibly upset over something. “Who’s the lassie? You finally cut it off with Vanessa?”

He shook his head, “No, NO! Perish the thought Conrad!” he chuckled, “Her dog tackled me in the park, she offered to pay for my coffee as an apology, but we can’t just tie a great dane who got loose once outside. I couldn’t recall if you’re pet friendly.”

He frowned, “Well technically we’re nawt. But we only opened a lil bit ago so no one is here yet, so.” He shrugged, “As the owner I say fine.” He laughed, “You can go tell her, Arulius.”

“Thanks!” he waved heading to the door, “He said it’s okay.” He tilted his head as she was frowning, creasing her brow heavily, “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” She blinked, snapping back, “Oh yeah I’m fine! My brother was just being really annoying!” she admitted, “Apparently he found something I have to go look at when he gets out of class.” She dropped her shoulders defeated, “Today was MEANT to be a relaxing day.”

“I get you.” he patted the top of her head. His eyes lit up surprised, “Your hair is very soft!” He stated. He had it to be coarser.

She turned a bit red, “O-Oi!” She pushed past through the coffee shop door, “It’s because I just dyed it! The conditioner makes it softer!” she flushed bright red, “G-Get your bean water!” She pointed to the menu looking it over.

He followed her back inside with a very loud laugh. She jolted as he cackled, her grip tightening on the dog. Her eyes were wide as she thought about it and covered her face, “Ah. So. you.” she was mumbling and he couldn’t figure her last words.

“Hrm?” he tilted his head, “Conrad I’d like my usual please, extra-large.” He ordered.

“Aye Figured.” the old man laughed, the sound similar bird cawing, “An’ for ya lassie?”

“Oh, Um.” she was scrutinizing the board, “I.. Actually don’t know.” she admitted, “I don’t drink coffee so I don’t know what’s good. I don’t like Bitter.”

“What about a cafe latte then?” Arulius offered, “it has a lot of milk and creamer in it so it’s sweeter than a normal coffee.”

“Is that so..” she mused as she tugged on the dogs lead, “Okay!” she smiled. He hadn’t imagined it earlier. He couldn’t help noticing her canines were very oversized.

“So a Death Macchiato and a Cafe Latte.” The older gentleman hopped off his bar stool. He barely stood taller than the counter.

“Don’t!” Arulius warned seeing her eyes go wide. He stood in front of her to whisper, “Do not laugh! He’ll put SALT in your drink!”

She was doing her best to not laugh, “I won’t, I won’t!” her voice cracked as she whispered. She covered her mouth in her hands.

“You are doing a bad job!” he snickered at her.

“I Know!” she wheezed and leaned against his back, “I wasn’t prepared! Ahh.” she sighed, taking a deep breath, “I’m cool, it’s cool!” she grinned widely showing off those odd teeth, “See It’s cool!”

“Well if ye are cool the coffee is hot.” The man put the two cups on the counter, steam rising off of them, “Drink up, it’ll be 12.50 pons lassie!”

“Oh good, it is still pons.” She sighed relieved as she pulled out her wallet and paid for the drinks. She took hers and handed off the other, “Cheers.” she smirked. She patted the dog’s head.

They tapped their cups together, taking a sip as they exited the establishment. Yup that was a Death Macchiato. He sighed happily intaking the illegal amount of pure espresso and a hint of cream with a sigh of relief, “Ah I live.”

“Do you?” she asked with a cheeky grin. She sipped on her own, “I don’t hate it. But coffee is still too bitter.”

“You think so?” he asked as they walked towards the campus. He froze, “Are you going here too?” he asked worriedly.

“No, I’m just meeting my brother.” She admitted, “He works here.” she shrugged, “he won’t get out for a bit, so I was just going to finish walking Damion and return him to his owner.”

“Oh, it’s not your dog?” He blinked at her, he was sure it was.

“Nope! I just walk him for his owner.” She gave another shrug, “I have to earn money somehow and it’s hard when you didn’t finish High School and have no trade skills.”

“Why not get your GED or something?” he pondered as they headed towards the history building, “are you following me the whole way?”

“Why not?” she asked with a sly grin, “Actually, I just don’t..” she paused thinking about the next choice of words, “don’t have time for it.”

“But you can dog walk, and escort a student to class?” he raised a brow.

“One day off does not make for a full set of classes.” she pointed out, “And I’m not worried, I mostly do this because I enjoy it.”

Standing on the building's edge she gave him a small bow, “have a good time in class, Arulius!” She grinned, turning heel and running off in her bright blue sneakers, the dog keeping pace as they vanished before he could respond.

He sighed waving and headed inside, setting his books down he froze.

He never told her his name.

-----

“Good work today class!” the teacher clapped his hands together, he wheeled around the classroom, picking up the students papers. “Remember Thursday is a test day! Time waits for no one, so please make sure to study!” he laughed as he rolled up to Arulius’s desk, “As for you, I know you are trying to succeed, but please when I say 6-10 pages, I only mean 10 max.” he grabbed the hefty stack from the desk, “Also when will you start typing your reports, Mr. law?”

“When Vanessa gives my laptop back?” he shrugged, rubbing his neck. “Sorry, I just really like writing them out.”

The grey-haired man sighed, tapping the other’s head with the stack, “use the computer lab next time.” the other students filed out of the classroom.

Arulius packed his bag up, pulling his phone out he sighed at all the texts Vanessa had left him. Typing back he shrugged the straps over his shoulder. He started his walk home with a disgruntled sigh. He couldn’t get a single day without her freaking out. What did he have to tell her to make her believe he wasn’t doing anything suspicious. He literally went to class, home, and the cafe.

He blinked as he watched the girl from that morning scoot by him into the classroom. He almost hadn’t noticed but she smelt heavily of pine as she cut by him.

“Sena!” She shouted as she headed inside with a wide grin, “Ready?” She asked as she stood on the back of his wheelchair, leaning over him.

“Oh more than. I’m getting sore.” he admitted with a laugh, “I know this was your day off but Tim said it was a pretty bad one. Friend was even worried.”

“Yeah. yeah.” she sighed and ruffled her hair. She turned towards the door giving the young man a wave, “Hi Again!”

“Oh. Uh right hi!” he waved back sheepishly as he turned to leave, having felt his face turn red. He couldn’t believe he got caught staring. He sighed looking back. So that was her brother. Weird. He didn’t recall his teacher ever mentioning any family. But then again it was his teacher. He felt his phone go off again. He started to run home with a heavy sigh.

-----

“So. Is it a violet, blue, red, green?” She asked as she closed the classroom door. She looked at her brother with a tilted head.

“Hold on. Let me just.” he pushed up on the wheelchair, his legs dissolving in an almost pixelated fashion as his skin turned light blue. His face rearranging into a more alien state, his head changing shape. He shook his head as he finished shifting and floating around her, “I love teaching but holding a human form gets so tiring. Plus the whole I don’t actually have legs thing.” he grumbled floating around her. He snapped his fingers so his chair folded up vanishing in a mass of red threads.

“Feeling better now you can stretch a little?” She chuckled as she raised her hand to reach into the air. It shimmered as her hand vanished, reappearing holding an hourglass.

“Oh much better. Also what was with you and Mr. Law?” he raised his brow curiously as he took the hourglass from her.

“Oh, Arulius?” She sighed, “The dog I was walking this morning jumped him.” She admitted, “I treated him to coffee as a sorry. You know. He reminded me a lot of that one shadow demon we met years ago.”

“You think so?” He tilted his head this time, clearly a family trait.

“His laughter.” she admitted with a big grin, “Also I totally found that old Firespirit! He runs a coffee shop! A far cry from a studio!”

“Well, that does happen when you jump dimensions as often as we do. Somethings get mixed around.” he shrugged as he flipped the glass, red threads around it as he did. “Though I highly doubt that Mr. Law is the Snatcher…” he frowned, “Actually, no. You may be right.” he sighed, “well let’s hope he meets a better fate here.”

“You going to steal his corpse?” She teased as she reached out a blue flame covering the red threads.

“You steal a prince’s body once and you never live it down!” he wheezed. “Almost got it!” he held his hands up, “Alright! I think we’re good for a jump!”

“Onward!” She grinned as she took the hourglass back and flipped it around, the air shifting as things began to rewind, the two of them standing still as folks moved around them as if in a movie.

“How far back?” She asked as she held the glass steady.

“About a day and OH!” he stopped her, the rift shimmering as they paused the world around them by turning the glass on its side. “There it is!” He pointed towards a shimmering crimson toned orb that floated above the students in the classroom.

“Oh booo. I hate red rifts.” She huffed as she got up on a desk reaching out.

“Wait Eclipse!” Sena shouted but it was too late, her foot brushed Arulius’s face as he sat at his desk righting. He blinked looking around confused. The trio was pulled into the orb with a fizzing noise. The world resumed without them.

----

“Uh...Uhh..” Arulius looked around as they stood on the ceiling in a rocky temple.

Eclipse was holding her head ashamed while he looked around. He winced as he felt blood from his nose, leaking down his face towards his mouth despite the way they stood.

“How do I explain this to Tim?!” she fretted as she held her head in her hands, “Sena! What do we do?!” she gasped.

The demon was looking around, inspecting the stonework, “Nothing can be done right now. We need to locate what caused this rift, be it a timepiece or something else. Since it’s a red one, that means there could be an escaped horizon lurker.”

“Sena! I think this is a little more pressing! Oh no.” She saw his nose bleeding and reached to wipe it, “Damnit.” she groaned, “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m just.” He was trying to figure what was going on. His head was pounding and his stomach lurched, “urp.” he covered his mouth with his hands as he paled trying to keep his lunch down.

A loud roar filled the air and she groaned, “Damnit. It is a Horizon lurker. Sena.” she held her hand out.

“Right.” the demon reached and grabbed the threads that materialized around his fingers and a golden halberd with a star theme formed from the threads. She took it and looked at the poor law student.

“Sena why don’t you stay with him. I’ll go get the timepiece.” she looked at him apologetically, “Sorry about this, Ru. I promise it’ll be like a bad dream when this is over!” She jumped from the ceiling landing on the ground and running off.

He could only stare in shock as he fell to his knees. He paused, “Sena…” he looked at the demon who was holding his hands and fretting, “Mr. Nightingale?” he asked quietly.

“Yes Um hello.” he waved with a low chuckle. He laced his fingers together and took human form, however he was standing upright as he rubbed his neck annoyed, “look this is just as weird for me!” he sighed heavily, “Dear Mother Moon. That girl I swear is always a wreck no matter which dimension I find her.” he grimaced and looked down, “We can make you forget this ever happened so don’t fret so much. Think of it like.” he waved his scarred hands around looking for the words, “well as Ammy said, a bad dream.”

“Ammy?” Arulius stared even more confused.

“Oh um. It’s my nickname for Eclipse.” the demon scratched his cheek and sat down beside the law student as he thought about the matter, “I should have activated the rift but she was so hurried. I know she has a quota to make but.” he stopped hearing a roar and a loud whooping noise, “seems she found the lurker.” he leaned on his hand and rapped his fingers on the stonework nervously, “please let her handle it without injury.” he begged.

Arulius stared, “what are you exactly?” he reached a hand to touch the smooth surface of the demon’s head.

#ask #anon #fan fiction #ahit au #Cafe Latte and Broken Dreams Au #ahit moonjumper #ahit prince #ahit fan character #Eclipse Guardian #Sena the threadsmith #Prince Arulius #I hope y'all enjoy!!#maybe I'll finish this au someday but this one ends sadly #granted i could change that #i should finish my coffee shop cinderella au as well #anyone wanna hear about that mess #ive actually posted art for that au

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batfamfucker · 4 years

Text

Headcanons I have for the batfam (mostly just Bruce actually being a good dad because DC's still on some BS):

-All the batkids + Bruce cuddle a lot, especially on 'nightmare/night terror nights', nightmares and night terrors, unsurprisingly, happen a lot. It's not uncommon for one of the kids to either go to their closest sibling's room and pile in with them, or straight to Bruce's room. Doesn't matter how old they are, it's just a thing they do, and every member of the family just accepts it, embraces it even. No one ever gets shit for it. It doesn't matter how tired person B is, if person A comes in for any reason at all, even if they haven't had a nightmare and just want some cuddles, person B has no complaints. It can either be a no questions asked kinda thing or they can stay up and talk about it. Sometimes person B doesn't even get woken up, but instinctively grabs person A in their sleep and wraps them up in a big protective sleepy embrace. It's also not uncommon for word to get around about which room becomes the designated sleeping area for that night. Like, if Jason walks past Bruce's room and sees Damian curled up at his side, both of them fast asleep, he'll go right in and join. Then it'll continue with more joining depending on how many walk past, sometimes someone will even text the family group chat and be like 'Go to Bruce's room if you want cuddles'. It's also not uncommon for the whole family to be piled into the same bed in a singular night, especially after a rough night of crime fighting. Duke took a while to get used to this, but when he was sleeping at the manor one time, Damian came into his room. He was quiet and nervous, and Duke swears he saw him about to cry, and just opened his arms wide immediately. The moment Damian's small head was buried in his chest, it hit him why they did this, and he immediately understood. The next morning, he woke up to every sibling and one of the dogs in his bed. He couldn't stop smiling for a week.

-Mass sleepovers, which I've already described here

-Mass games of hide and seek around the manor, game night in general. Monopoly has been banned twice and still manages to get played every time

-They have a family group chat

-Steph and Duke are the only two Bruce hasn’t legally adopted, but he has everything ready should he need to

-Movie nights in the manor theatre once every month on the last Friday

-Bruce loves his kids and tells them he's proud of them often, tells them he loves them (sometimes verbal, sometimes silently through gestures, post-it notes, etc), has a separate calendar dedicated just to their birthdays, uses his detective skills to find them the perfect gifts, etc. Sometimes he just gets them gifts at random times. He'll see a cute dress in a shop window and think 'Steph will love this', Tim will complain offhandedly that he's running out of pens, and boom the next time he walks into his room, there's a brand new pack of stationary on his desk.

-Bruce has always tried to take them all to school every day and tried to pick them up as much as he can, which he's done since he first adopted Dick. He remembers how tiny Dick's first school bag was on his own back when he used to carry it for him. All neon blue with neon green straps. Sometimes he'd have Alfred stay at the manor and drive himself just so he could go on a walk and take Dick out for ice cream. He's done this with all his kids at least once.

-Adding on to this, Bruce tries to show them his support about everything, what their passionate about, school events, etc. Parents evening? It's the third one this week but he's going. Cass wants to show him her new dance choreography? He'll grab some popcorn and invite the others. Tim just took a really cool photo and wants to show Bruce? He makes sure to hype it up as much as he possibly can.

-Designated days where Bruce will hang out with a singular kid, which isn't on their birthday, to show them they're important and appreciated and not forgotten. Sometimes one of his kids will come to him, sometimes ask, sometimes some of them just kind of stand there awkwardly until he catches on, and he'll drop everything and take them out to see a movie or something. Just the two of them, just so they feel loved. His family comes first.

-Eat breakfast and dinner together as often as possible, you never know when there'll be an empty chair at the table so they try to savour as many meals (moments together in general) as possible. Every Friday night is designated family dinned night which starts just before patrol.

-Falling outs don't last that long because of this. You never know which fight you'll never get to apologise for or which word you'll never get to take back because anything can happen when you're a vigilante. You may not always return from patrol. Even Tim and Damian try to fight less after a few scares, trying not to take one another for granted. Yeah, they all be stubborn and fight now and again, but in the end, they all love each other and being stubborn and prideful isn't worth possibly leaving things on bad terms every time they put on that uniform

-Every time a newbie joins the family, they have a family meal together to watch the 'moment of truth' where the newbie tastes Alfred's cooking for the first time. They'll all discretely wait for the newbie to eat before digging in themselves, subtly watching as they try the food. It's Alfred's cooking, so they obviously always like it. The moment the newbie looks as though they enjoy the food, Alfred smiles and fills will pride, which makes the rest of the family happy, too.

-Lots of quiet but casual 'I love yous' from the kids. Dick openly says it to every sibling, with a million kisses to someone's cheeks and hair, and a bone crushing hug. Others may be quieter. Jason will leave a post-it on Bruce's computer, get a small plant for Alfred to put in the garden, grabs Tim a coffee if he's going past a coffee place on his way home, ruffles Damian's hair as he walks past and grins when Damian gets annoyed. Damian, like Bruce, takes into account people's interests or what's important to them (like when he found all of Martha's pearls for Bruce), he'll find an original book copy from an author, no matter how old is it, for Jason and Alfred, knows the exact pair of new ballet shoes Cass has been wanting for her birthday. He pays attention to detail and goes the extra mile.

-Older siblings 100% put themselves before the younger ones when in danger, especially if Bruce isn't there. If he is, he puts himself in front of all the kids. Oldest to youngest, starts with Bruce, then Jason and Dick, Tim and Steph, Duke and Cass, then Damian.

-Every Christmas, the kids that live at the manor/stayed the night will all get up and wait for each other outside Bruce's door. When everyone's there, they sneak in and then wake him up by jumping on the bed before piling onto him, crushing both him and each other in the process. Bruce swears they've broken his ribs on more then one occasion. It was fine when it was just eight-year-old Dick, but now it's anywhere between 3-8 kids, some of which are fully grown adults, just playing a game of pile on to wake him up. Either way, it makes them happy so he doesn't mind too much, even if they bruise him

-Alfred also cooks cultural meals. The family is very diverse, after all. He cooks traditional Romanian meals for Dick, Arabic cuisine for Damian, etc. Especially if he sees one of the kids looking a bit down or upset as a way of cheering them up

-Alfred is the real detective of the family, at least when it comes to food. He knows everyone's allergies without them even telling him, knows how everyone likes their food, even if they have the same meal. For example, if they're all having burgers, he knows Damian will have a veggie one, Dick and Steph like extra pickles, Duke likes extra cheese but no ketchup, Tim hates pickes, etc. Also knows how eveyone like their drinks with which meals, which drink they'll likely be in the mood for depending on their day and mood, how Damian likes his tea depending on how he's feeling, how everyone likes their protein shakes. Knows what proportions of food are perfect for each individual, Jason and Bruce eat the most, Cass and Damian the least, knows how much to plate up for each person so they won't get full but will still fill up

-Alfred and Jason bake together a lot

-Alfred and Damain have tea together

-Alfred is the only straight person in the whole family but he is not one of The StraightsTM, strong ally, loves his son and all his grandchildren no matter what. Every time someone new comes out, he just puts on a lil' pride badge and goes about his day

Bonus:

-Kate gets annoyed every time another batperson comes out (not really tho) because it destroys her cred of being the gay cousin/lesbian aunt the more and more it happpens

-Still goes to Christmas dinner with them even if she's Jewish because she likes the atmosphere and the food is good, and because loves them all

-They have a Hanukkah dinner with her in return

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dreamsafterhours · 4 years

Text

college boyfriend!markhyuk au series: III (mark’s pathway)

a universe in which roommates!markhyuk meet each other's s/o in class

markhyuk are roommates, my/n and dy/n are roommates, mark and dy/n take classes together and so do donghyuk and my/n — how will their fates intertwine?

genre: fluff pairings: mark+my/n (fem), donghyuk+dy/n (fem), platonic!mark+dy/n, platonic!donghyuk+my/n format: dotpoint AU universe: non idol, college bf warning: some swearing

masterlist

or click here to meet your soulmate, paediatrics!donghyuk!

II ⇤ | III | ⇥ IV

III: 별빛이 내린다 샤라랄라랄라라 (2+2=4)

the meeting of two souls: mark & my/n

hi hello good day how are you? i hope you're well today/tonight this is like 3 weeks late isn't it :D pls don't come after me i lost some motivation to write for a while but here i am now so let's get to it!!

aight so you met donghyuk's roommate for the first time yesterday and,,

you honestly had NO IDEA someone could be that cute

highkey regretting not asking for his name but you were so caught up in lingering on the fact that he implied you were pretty , like wHO DOES THAT ASDFKJL

you highkey shouted the verbal equivalent of a keyboard smash with ur roommate and she was all !! oh so this guy cute cute

you were contemplating whether or not to sneakily ask donghyuk for his name but you were worried bc hyuk has,, crazy sense when it comes to reading people and seeing through their words

and honestly you didn’t want to have to deal with hyuk potentially teasing the shit out of u for having a maybe crush on his roommate whom u’d just met

so you just beat your pillow sleep on it after your roommate reminds you it’s getting late and no life decisions should be made after 12am!! live by it

you wake up craving jjajangmyeon but alas if you were to get any satisfaction of that kind of hunger, it was going to have to wait because

~~ we love ~~ packed schedules ~~ in this house ~~

i hopes the sarcasm was noted in that previous sentence bc now u wish for life to cease

4 weeks into the semester and you were drowning in the midst of reports and lab pracs and content and revision

you were ready to ascend to the next life with only regret and an ability to vaguely explain the properties of a prokaryotic cell and endosymbiosis

but honestly donghyuk’s been a big help throughout the past month

your only friend in classes

official study buddy

2am revision session consultant

personal older brother bc he claimed you as his adoptive sister

another reason your roommate told you to go to bed was bc you literally have

a tutorial class + 2 consecutive 1.5 hour lectures + a 3 hour lab class to finish your day off

with no break for lunch in between :’((

looks like you’ll be starving through your library study session with dy/n

but oop

you find that dy/n had stayed up long after you’d fallen asleep writing her essay

leaving your dorm feeling a twinge of guilt that u might have distracted her from focusing on her work to listen to your rambles and kept her up later than she should have been

but a text from her in the afternoon reassures u that honestly she wasn’t even planning to write that essay and The Feels™ had just hit her last night and that she made it to class

you: oh PHEW that’s good

you: sorry i didn’t wake you up on my way out, u looked so peaceful i couldn’t bear to disturb

dy/n 🦁: dw dw it’s all g i made it n e way

dy/n 🦁: also is it cool if my friend and his friend comes to the study sesh as well we have to go through some lecture content

you: ah yes don’t see why not :)) i’ll probs have my earphones in the entire time anyways lmao won’t affect me

but will it

“who u texting in the middle of diffusion” cue hyuk peering over at the phone you’re hiding in your lap

you click your tongue at him and lock your phone, “someone twice the man you’ll ever be”

he gasps in mock horror like he’d just witnessed a murder as quietly as he can ,,

“you’re texting a guy? in the middle of diffusion?”

“no. my roommate lmao”

“and what? is it me or your roomma—”

“—my roommate” you glance back up at the prof without looking at him

“ouch”

“you dare?”

“if i don’t dare, who will”

and due to this exchange, you miss the osmosis slide

“ah shit what was osmosis again”

“lmfao what makes u think i know that”

(pause)

“isn't it just.. net movement of free water molecules from an area of high concentration to an area of low concentration”

sorry my bio neural pathways are being excited again after being revisited for the first time in two years

/stares at him/ “why was that infuriating to hear from u”

after class you prepare to head to your dreaded 3-hour lab class you have with donghyuk but he stands up and stares into the void blankly

“where am i going”

“where do u think”

“oh, hell, most likely”

you scoff at the accuracy and drag him out of the lecture hall

you look at donghyuk and he’s visibly resisting the urge to poke your cheek when he first puts on his gloves

“what’s with you today”

he stares at his hands forlornly, “idk ask that to my timetable”

“week 4 got u dead huh”

he glances at you with a frown, “don’t act like u’re not dying too”

“damn. touché”

to your dismay, the lab class runs later than scheduled and you get out of it 20 minutes after it was meant to finish but luckily it’s your last class

with a quick goodbye to donghyuk and a text letting dy/n know you were going to be a lil late, u stop by ur dorm to pick up ur textbook before rushing to the library

you were highkey exhausted and just. famished by that point

but a promise is a promise and you weren’t going to back out of one now

especially when you felt like you owed your roommate one and it was you who originally suggested a library session

so you get to the library, bag strap slung over your shoulder, checking the photo of the seats dy/n had saved for you in the library

highkey getting lost once or twice but you manage

you get to the general area and spot dy/n sitting at a four-seater (wow how’d they get that) but you

freeze when you see who’s sitting next to her

it’s ??

????????

????????????????

/error 404/

????????????????

????????

ur heart goes into panic mode bc

it’s not even kidding it’s donghyuk’s roommate

and despite ur brain short-circuiting

you manage to remember that dy/n had said that mentioned her friend’s.. roommate.. also coming along..

and if her friend was donghyuk’s.. roommate..

you: : )

you: oh my god they were roommates

and speak of the devil

“oh hey fancy seeing u here”

you turn around and it’s donghyuk legit chills right there

you barely reply a “hi”

“i thought u were going to ur dorm for dinner”

“ah yeah—no i’m.. gonna go over some.. diffusion”

“oii! over here dude” his roommate whisper-yells out at donghyuk

dy/n waves at you “heYY my/n”

donghyuk waves and turns back to you “welp i’m gonna join a study group.. you could join if you came alone? i’m sure they won’t mind”

“about that”

“u waiting for someone?”

“i’m going over there too”

“what?”

he glances over at the table and then back to you

“that’s my roommate. right there next to your roommate”

you point her out and then donghyuk’s jaw drops

“what the fUC—” and you both. burst iinto laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation

like ?? how???

“wOW r u KIDDING”

“HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN”

“talk about a coincidence.. oh my god my cheekbones hurt” he says as he clutches his side

so you get to the table and dy/n tries to introduce u to donghyuk’s roommate

“mark, this is my/n, my/n this is mark”

ah yes so mark is his name, you think

cute name for a cute boi

“nice to meet you again, mark”

dy/n: “?? again?”

mark gives u a rlly wide smile “yeah we’ve met. hi my/n”

you swear you’ve never had your heart flutter like this

fdksoafjadgioarigilf

then mark introduces dy/n to donghyuk and they start talking about how they’re your legal guardian and telling the other to “get in line”

leaving you in middle like “ok mum and dad” but also thinking back to when donghyuk was highkey flirting with you,, and now how he’s flirting with dy/n ,, oh dude he’s flirting

and highkey ,,, you don’t have any hard feelings about it ,, you know she’s also got this kind of humour code and she’s far more comfortable with meeting new people

until dy/n jokes about custody rules and donghyuk replies with “who says we’re split”

ok mum and dad

n e ways you came to study and study you will

so you settle down and go through your notes for the day

albeit being a lil distracted by mark who sits right across from you somehow, somewhy,,

somewhy should be a word you can’t tell me how to english

you keep wanting to steal glances at him but you have to physically restrain yourself from doing so

and also donghyuk who keeps poking u under the table and texting u even though he’s right next to you

💩hyuk: bro

you: wHAT

💩hyuk: nvm lol

you: im boutta slap u. give me my pen back i saw that

💩hyuk: damn

💩hyuk: also r u hungry

you: terribly

you: why

💩hyuk: does ur roommate have any allergies

you: not that i know of

you: again

you: why

you: u buyin?

💩hyuk: 🤡<- you

💩hyuk: 🤡, how do you feel about dinner

you: invalid question. no variable answer

💩hyuk: alright, 🤡. im not buying for u

you glower at him but he isn’t looking at u,, he leans back and laments about how he’s craving chinese food

did he read your damn mind how did he know

and apparently he’s read dy/n’s mind too at how she jumps up at the mention of chinese and agrees profusely

so you find yourself abandoning your studies for the rest of the night and in a restaurant lmfao

“chill,, guys,,, jjajang is fine”

rock paper scissors for the cheque ends in mark’s tears

“no it’s ok. i’m ok it’s our first meeting as a fateful group and it makes sense! for me to pay”

after you satisfy your cravings the boys walk dy/n and you back to your dorm

mark tells dy/n to give him her bag for him to carry and while she practically gives it up to him, he has to insist that he’ll carry yours too

to which you’re like omg no it’s fine i can carry it it’s not that heavy i swear—

until donghyuk takes ur bag off ur shoulder and passes it to mark

because of the narrow path, you’re forced to walk in pairs and you end up walking next to donghyuk who makes happy sounds about how good that food was and how priceless mark’s face was when he lost rock paper scissors

then dy/n takes the initiative to make a group chat for you four,, asking for donghyuk’s number to add

you give her a look like damn gurl but you have no idea if she saw or if she just ignored you on purpose lmfao

also donghyuk looked way too happy afterwards

either way you slapped her when you got back to the dorm like “SINCE WHEN WERE YOU SO ?? BRAVE?”

dy/n: um

dy/n: honey

dy/n: have you met me

and thus the chaos of a group chat was born and just like a real child, you spent hours on it

dy/n 🦁: ok we inside

you: thanks for dinner again mark!

💩hyuk: he says you’re welcome

💩hyuk: i say we “accidentally” lose our purses next time we go out

you: nah you’re paying next

💩hyuk: y

💩hyuk: y, 🤡

dy/n 🦁: yes y, 🤡

dy/n 🦁: HAHAH WHY IS SHE 🤡

💩hyuk: i thought you of all people would know

dy/n 🦁: why is she just as dumb in class as she is in the dorm?

💩hyuk: i knew it

dy/n 🦁: she poured too much hot water into her tea the other day it overflowed and spilt onto her foot

mark: oh no were u okay

💩hyuk: looks like you’re gonna have to study osomsis

💩hyuk: osmoiss

💩hyuk: fuck

you: yes i’m okay it wasn’t that hot i had socks on too

💩hyuk: osmosis

dy/n 🦁: avoided tragedy luckily

💩hyuk: finally

you: there is a reason you’re saved as 💩hyuk on my phone

dy/n 🦁: HAAHAHAHAHHAHAH

seriously you just don’t know just how much this group was going to mean to you yet

click here to meet your soulmate, paediatrics!donghyuk!

II ⇤ | III | ⇥ IV

shoot me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future parts!

#dreamwritersnet #kwritersworldnet #neowriters #nct au #nct 127 au #nct dream au #markhyuck #markhyuck au #markhyuck x reader #mark x reader #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #mark au #haechan au #donghyuck au #nct college #nct college au #eng lit mark #paediatrics haechan

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janeofcakes · 4 years

Text

KYFC..: Chapter 14

Hello, my friends! It’s been a whirlwind of a week. My days were all screwed up and everything went so quickly - meetings, cataloging and the lot. Even my daughter (7) has noticed how quickly time goes now. Friday was the last day of school and we are now in talks here because parental units want to see schoolwork and schedule continue while the childrens want them to end. They actually sat down together in a secret conference and wrote out their ”demands”. You say cute, I say eek!

But enough about that, the bout with the Ravens is finally upon us! Instead of my usual snarky teasing, I know how disappointed you are (Ha!), I wanted to define a few terms again and explain one or two things.

Pack - the largest group of blockers from both teams skating within ten feet of each other.

Blocker - a skater who tries to prevent the jammer from skating around the track and scoring points.

Jammer - the skater who skates around the track and aims to pass all of the blockers on the opposite team. A point is scored for each opposing team blocker the jammer passes.

Lead jammer - the jammer who breaks through the pack first (no points are scored on the initial break through. The lead jammer controls the jam and can call it off at any time, unless in the penalty box.

Not a term here, but when I refer to a triangle formation it is made of of three blockers. One faces the jammer and is the head, or top, of the triangle. The two remaining blockers stand side by side, facing the head of the triangle and facing away from the jammer. The head has a hand one of of each of their shoulders and they each have a hand on her shoulders. This keep the triangle tight and steady. The head shouts commands to the other two blockers because she can best see the jammer.

I hope that all makes sense. Off we go!

---

To tell the truth, I am getting away with murder. It is impossible to never tell the truth, but the reality is I’m getting away with murder. --Papa Roach, Getting Away with Murder

“Watch out for 32. She hits hard and she has your number,” Sherlock’s eyes are narrow slits when he looks to Harry in the tight huddle they form with Hella, Groot, Smacks and The Woman just outside the track.

“No shit. She’s been hittin’ my ass every jam. I’m working on a bruise bigger than the fucking space needle,” Harry hisses angrily, annoyance and adrenaline rolling off her in waves.

Sherlock stares at her coolly. He runs a few scenarios in his mind palace as she continues to curse in a steady stream, becoming more and more creative as she goes. A second later and his eyes are focused again.

“What can I do about this fuckstick? It’s like I have target on my back,” Harry complains. “How the fuck do I stop her riding my ass?”

“Can’t really blame her, love,” Clara Hell on Wheels teases with a flirtatious grin and a glance at HardOn’s posterior.

“She always takes turns tightly and comes in on the left,” Sherlock tells her. “Visibly brace yourself for the hit she wants you to expect and then make her miss. Hella and Smacks will pick her up. Groot, work on their blockers so The Woman can get through.” He looks around the circle at the face of each skater, the calm that only a plan can bring in his eyes. Each of their expressions changes in turn to reflect steady certainty where there had been chaos.

“Right. The left,” HardOn furrows her brow as she pictures what her coach has described. “That’ll work.”

“Ready then, ladies?” The Woman asks with a broad grin on her blood red lips.

“You bet your ass,” Hella replies, holding out her hand in the center of their circle. Everyone, including Sherlock, covers her hand and each of theirs in turn.

“For Rock City,” Groot says solemnly.

“And glory,” Smacks adds.

They all raise their hands collectively in a gesture of power, their faces already in triumph as if by the power of Greyskull, they have the power! Their hands drop with the kind of assertiveness held only by a true badass who knows no one can fuck with her turf. The Woman twirls her head toward the track dramatically in invitation to the others to join her. They each nod, steel in their eyes and tenacity on their faces as all five women skate onto the track and get into position while Sherlock remains on the sideline. He cannot resist a quick look to John, who is across the track standing in the aisle with spectators all around. He looks inconspicuous enough, but can hear most of what the other team is saying. It is perfectly legal as far as the official rules go, but the two men have to watch carefully that they do not do anything that looks even remotely like signaling. Any cheating results in disqualification and Rock City is still undefeated at this point, which is difficult, but not unheard of.

“Ten seconds!” the timer shouts and all ten women on the track bend their knees and straighten their spines. The whole stadium vibrates with energy, fans for both teams stomping and shouting. The whistle blows as the timer drops her arm from where it was held aloft and the track springs to life.

The Woman plunges her lanky body into the triangle of Ravens blockers nearly slipping between them right off the line, but the skater acting as the head of the trio closes the gap and prevents her escape from the pack. Face to face, they snarl at each other as The Woman gives a good push and then hops to the right on her toe stops, lunging forward and pumping her legs. Not to be undone, the trio moves with her, still in triangle formation. They tighten the iron grip on one another’s shoulders to stay together as they move. The skater closest to the outer side of the track shoves The Woman with her ass in an attempt to knock her out of bounds. The Woman sees it instantly and twirls to keep her skates inside the line, circumnavigating around that ass and cutting to the left, only to meet the fourth blocker in the pack. Hungry to break through, she continues to hop and push at the blockers.

Meanwhile, HardOn and company have formed an unbreakable wall for #32. She shifts this way and that, snapping her teeth as she bites at the air in an intimidating effort. Hella barks orders at HardOn, Smacks and Groot so they stay in her way.

“In! In! Out, out, out!”

“I’m going around!” Groot shouts.

“Go, go, go!” Hella answers and the three maintain the wall while Groot skates away from the pack and all the way around the track. When she rejoins, it is with the other group of women where she slams into one. With a satisfied gleam in her eye, Groot knocks her on her ass and shoves toward a second skater. The Woman takes the opportunity to follow behind Groot and dart around the whole group. The fourth blocker lunges to pick her up and misses, leaving The Woman to glide away free and clear, blowing a kiss as she goes and earning lead jammer. One of the trio lashes out at Groot in frustration, dropping her to her knees and drawing a penalty. She heads for the box as The Woman weaves her way around her own teammates and the opposing team with such grace and skill, earning four more points for Rock City.

Finally, #32 breaks free from her own wall of blockers and skates away furiously. Suddenly unoccupied, Smacks throws a skillful shot at the trio of Ravens readying to block out The Woman and creating enough of a scuffle that The Woman weaves between them all a second time. Groot forms up with Hella and HardOn readying for another attack by 32, who started building speed as soon as she broke away from the pack.

“HardOn, look out!” Smacks shouts just before 32 slams into her as hard as she can.

The warning was meant to help, but only succeeds in startling HardOn and increasing the effect of the hit. Her eyes wide in terror, HardOn flies right off her skates. It happens in a split-second, but the scene plays out in slow-motion for everyone in the stadium. HardOn hovers in mid-air with a curse on her lips before slamming right into Smacks, normal speed returning as 32 spirals into the mix. They skid out of bounds in a tangle of limbs and loud grunts, Smacks on the bottom and taking the full force of the other two skaters. Her scream echoes through the stadium at impact and she clutches at her calf as soon as they come to a stop.

Whistles blow loudly, three in rapid succession, as Sherlock rushes onto the track. In spite of being closer, somehow John gets there first. He calls for his bag and begins assessing the damage. Sherlock squats next to him.

“Fracture?” he asks in a serious tone.

“Yes,” John nods. His lips press into a thin line, his brows drawing together in concentration.

“How bad?” Sherlock can’t keep his voice from trembling, his genuine fear for Smacks threatening to surface.

“Not good. It’s near the knee,” John glances up when Trixie sets the medical bag next to them. “Ta.”

Sherlock releases a harsh breath through his nose as he turns to the side and motions for a stretcher. Every skater in the stadium, on and off the track, is down on one knee in solidarity. Smacks is biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. She holds her breath and then inhales sharply as John continues examining her leg while he asks questions. She bites back a cry and squirms, which only seems to increase her pain.

“It hurts here?” John asks with raised brows and she nods.

“John?” Sherlock fixes him with a steel gaze.

“Her ankle may be broken too,” he replies after gently squeezing one last time. “I need an x-ray. Could be sprained, but I’d say broken.”

Two men place a stretcher next to the fallen skater and unbuckle its straps.

“You have an ambulance on standby, yeah?” he asks them.

“Yes, sir,” the one with plugs in his stretched earlobes answers.

“Good. I want to take her straight to the closest ER. If her tibia is broken the way I think it is, she’ll need surgery,” John’s voice is crisp. He is in full-on doctor mode, his orders for the two men clear and concise.

“Surgery?!” Smacks queries in a hushed voice that sounds like a gasp.

“Don’t worry, Janine,” John’s eyes soften as he turns them toward her. His face relaxes and his body language is open, honest and comforting. “I’ll see you through it every step. You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

She can only nod a pained grimace and then let her mouth fall open in a silent scream as pain racks her body. At John’s advice, she tries to keep her body limp as he and the two men lift her onto the stretcher and strap her in. She still bites off moans with every movement and looks more than a little grateful once secure. John turns to Sherlock while she is being wheeled away.

“I’ll phone you as soon as I know anything concrete,” he promises.

Sherlock nods, giving John’s arm a tight squeeze as he pushes him off the track and towards the exit. John understands, gives Sherlock a tight smile and jogs after Smacks.

***

The rest of the bout goes without a hitch. Rock City wins by fifteen points. Sherlock receives a call from John just after his celebratory remarks in the locker room. He confirms an oblique fracture of the tibia, just under the knee and a stable fracture of the fibula where it meets the talus. Both require surgery and John will stay at the hospital until Smacks is resting comfortably. Sherlock gives the news to the team once everyone is on the bus for the hotel.

“Fuck me,” HardOn breathes an astonished whisper. “That shoulda been me.”

Hella finds her hand and holds it tightly, a misty look in her eyes as she lays her head on HardOn’s shoulder. The bus is quiet, every skater exhausted, and in a haze of worry and regret. Watching them from his seat at the front, Sherlock straightens his spine and calls out so all can hear.

“Janine is in the best care with John. Concern for her is admirable. It’s what a team is, but we have nothing to fear,” his words float over every skater and he can already see them perking up.

“You best your ass, Coach,” HardOn answers boisterously, Hella raising her head again with a grin. “Ph.D.’s the best of the best. We don’t keep him on just for his body, after all.”

“Not that it isn’t reason enough,” The Woman leers and the bus erupts into laughter.

Sherlock eases back into his seat, listening as the ladies crack jokes and bolster one another. A small smile of pride tugs at his lips. Despite the accidents and obstacles, the ladies are a team above all else. They band together on and off the track like a family. The smile grows as Sherlock’s words from their first bout emerge from a corner of his mind palace; the ladies never cease to amaze him.

Upon their arrival at the hotel, the ladies head up to their rooms to stow their gear and meet back in the bar for a drink or two.

“To Smacks,” Trixie raises a glass. “To the surgeons and steady hands. To a speedy recovery.”

“Hear, hear,” The Woman declares. Every skater echoes her words and they all down a shot. Sherlock taps his empty glass on the table thoughtfully.

“Coach?” Trixie asks in a quiet voice. He turns his gaze on the acting captain and straightens his spine.

“Make sure they’re all in their rooms by midnight. We have to be at the airport at nine tomorrow morning.”

“Will do,” she promises and adds with a wink. “I’ll see to Harry personally.”

Sherlock cannot stop a quiet huff of mirth and he pats her shoulder in thanks as he rises.

“I’m going to the hospital,” he informs the cheerful team in a loud voice.

“Tell Smacks we’re thinking of her,” Trixie gives him a nudge and meets his eyes.

“I will,” he assures. He nods at each of them in turn and hastens out of the bar.

Sherlock spends the cab ride telling Greg about the bout and Smacks’ injury. He scrubs a hand through his curls as they discuss it at length, as well as #32’s apparent personal vendetta against HardOn.

“It was no accident, Greg. That woman was on Harry’s case from the moment it started,” he says with certainty. “She was the target. If she had impacted the track with that force, she would have broken more than two bones. Janine was in both the right and wrong place.”

His leg bounces restlessly on the seat, the only outlet for his agitation.

“Jesus, Sherlock,” Greg’s voice is full of shocked disbelief. “Do you think Harry will be targeted again?”

“Yes, definitely,” he replies. “They will not stop until they succeed.”

“But why would someone on the Ravens help James Moriarty?” Greg asks. “Assuming you still think he’s responsible after this.”

“I don’t know,” Sherlock ignores the comment, “but I intend to find out.”

“Sherlock, don’t do anything foolish,” Greg cautions. “Where are you?”

“On my way to the hospital,” his response is quiet, but books no argument.

“Good. Yes. Stay with John and stay out of trouble. We’ll figure this out when you get home,” Greg says with a hint of that GM instruction in his tone.

Sherlock sighs and rolls his eyes at Greg’s big-brother overtones. The call ends just as the cab pulls up to the hospital. Sherlock pays the driver and walks swiftly into the building. He makes a few polite inquiries into John and Janine’s whereabouts, resisting the urge to snap at every person in his way. Taking a quick detour to stop at the hospital coffee shop, he ultimately pushes into the day of surgery waiting room. John is alone, save a couple mumbling in low tones to one another in the corner.

“John,” he says quietly as he approaches the doctor. John looks up and Sherlock offers one of the two coffee cups in his hands. “Just the way you like it.”

“Thanks,” a smile plays at the side of his mouth and he takes the cup.

Sherlock sits next to him and they both sip their coffees. He tries to read John in sideways glances. He looks tired, but not worried or frazzled. Assured of Janine’s condition, Sherlock allows himself to relax further and take a moment to observe John. It is quickly becoming one of his favorite pastimes; watching John. John’s face is all soft lines and dimples. His eyes are the color of the ocean, clear blue like a sunny day with expressive specks of midnight. His cheeks grow a most delightful shade of pink while Sherlock watches him. He finally stops his observations when John clears his throat and sits up straight in his chair. A bit not good, he supposes.

“Janine is in surgery?” he asks in spite of its obvious answer.

“Yep. They’re setting the tibia and repairing the ankle. Should be finished in an hour or so,” John turns his head to face him. “Did we win the match-up?”

“We did,” Sherlock nods, admiring the brilliant smile his answer receives. His stomach does a flip.

“That’s good. The record stands,” John replies. “Janine was fretting on the way here.”

“Harry delivered an ass-kicker of a hit to 32,” Sherlock adds, his eyes sparkling with mirth, “and wasn’t called for it.”

“Janine will like hearing that,” John grins. They both chuckle quietly, an edge of tiredness to the sound. John sighs and looks at Sherlock, leaning his temple against the wall. “It’s going to be at least two or three hours before I’ll be able to see her, depending on how quickly she wakes from anesthesia. You don’t have to stay.”

“You don’t have to stay alone,” Sherlock replies in a quiet tone, not to disturb the couple. John lifts his head to look at him fully. They can both feel exhaustion ebbing and flowing from the other like the tide.

“You and the ladies are leaving tomorrow morning,” John reminds him.

“Irrelevant,” Sherlock waves him off.

“Sherlock, you have to be there by nine,” John argues, trying to make him see reason.

“I want to stay, John,” Sherlock snaps in an angry and too loud voice. He glances toward the room’s other two occupants and they avert their eyes when he catches them staring. Sherlock shifts his body to look at John and effectively turns his back on them. When he faces him, John appears very unamused to say the least.

“I want to stay with you,” Sherlock continues in a calmer voice.

John’s face goes all soft and he tilts his head. Though he says nothing at first, he places a gentle hand on Sherlock’s. It is warm and feels like home.

“There’s nothing I’d love more, but it’s already so late and getting the ladies through an airport is like herding cats,” John laughs when Sherlock cracks a smile. “That’s what you Americans call it, yeah?”

“It’ll be fine,” Sherlock protests while nodding in answer to the question. “They aren’t juvenile delinquents.”

“I don’t know,” John responds in mock skepticism. “I’m not so sure about Harry.”

Sherlock bursts out laughing, much to his own surprise. Not missing that fact, John starts in too and they both descend into quiet giggles when the receptionist gives them a stern look.

“It’ll be fine,” Sherlock repeats in a whisper. “Clara will help keep her on track. She’ll follow her anywhere.”

“True enough. They’re rather adorable that way,” John’s eyes twinkle.

“Don’t tell them you said that,” Sherlock chuckles darkly.

“Well, I don’t have a death wish now, do I?” John raises a knowing brow.

The giggles begin anew and only slow when Sherlock realizes John’s hand is still on his. He looks down at it solemnly and then meets John’s eyes again. He sees all the blues of the sea and his mind begins to catalog them all. He sees pure and utter fondness and friendship. He sees his future.

Sherlock turns his hands under John’s and twines their fingers together as he lifts them to his lips, pressing a kiss to John’s knuckles. The doctor lets out a breath and bites his lower lip. Sherlock’s eyes track every movement. He mirrors the action and then slowly, deliberately glides his tongue across his own upper lip, knowing his teasing has John’s full attention. He raises his eyes only after John’s breathless gasp reaches his ears. They stare at one another for a full minute before John clears his throat and breaks the spell. Sherlock lowers their hands, but does not let go.

“I wish you could come back with us,” he mutters.

“If all goes well, we’ll be able to follow in 24 hours. It won’t be long,” John reassures him.

Sherlock gives him a small smile and squeezes his hand. The corners of John’s mouth turn up. Sherlock feels… He feels happy and contented. His only source of disquiet is that John will not be with them on the plane. Janine may need him, but it still feels wrong. He does not want to leave John here.

“It’ll be fine, Sherlock. We’ll be fine,” John tells him and Sherlock looks at him thoughtfully.

“I would like to,” Sherlock murmurs into the space between them.

“What?” John’s brow knits in confusion.

“What we talked about before,” he clarifies. “To date. If you are amenable, that is.”

John’s brows rise to his hairline and his lips stretch into a beautiful grin. God, those lips. Sherlock wants to nibble and lick them until John is boneless, completely undone, taken apart piece by gorgeous piece. He wants to feel them move against his own mouth and his neck and his shoulder. He wants to see them wrapped around his rock hard cock.

Sherlock visibly jumps at the thought, startled by his raw desire for John. He jerks his hand away without meaning to and the doctor’s smile is gone when he looks at him.

“Hey, no, I want that. I want to date,” John says, his brows knitted in concern now. He nearly misses the tiny nod Sherlock gives him. John hesitates for a second before covering Sherlock’s hand with his again. An electric shock shoots up Sherlock’s arm at the touch, though he keeps himself from jumping this time. John is smiling now. A glorious, brilliant smile. “I’d absolutely love it.”

A wide grin instantly spreads across the coach’s face. Given the fact that John said he had never loved anyone he dated in the past, using the word so freely now and in this context makes Sherlock’s heart swell. He should not dare to hope; John truly cannot promise their relationship will be any different. Even so, Sherlock cannot help himself because maybe, just maybe it means John will realize his true feelings for him.

“I’d love that too,” Sherlock whispers as he rests his forehead against John’s.

---

Oh my god. Action-packed (I hope all the derby action was understandable), another injury (the plot thickens), and then a tender moment for our leading men. Awwwww. I know what you’re saying: Jane, this fucking chapter has it all! What is in store for Rock City? (Defeat? Glory?) What is in store for our intrepid duo? (Danger? Romance?) Only time will tell, my friends. Oh, to know the inner workings of The Mind of Jane. ‘Tis a scary place.

As always, I hope this has brought you all some distraction and solace. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading with me, loving these two idiots with me, and sharing this with me in these uncertain times. I love you all. Jane

@zentris @221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor @tooolforthissh--stuff @shana-movershaker @melmey-fanfics @louise175dk @technicallywiseoncns @underestimatemethatwillbefun @jhamishw @weirdlittlegoofball @superwholockpotterincamelot @superwholocklmt @ladidragonuniverse @kittenmadnessandtea @srebrnafh @welcometomyharddrive @annecumberbatch @kingdomofbrokenhearts @philliphooper @whodwantmeasaflatmate @gloriascott93 @vvaticancameoss @cow-mow @echosilverwolf @spazzz32 @absentmindedsstuff @swissmissing @shuukichan @maeliandmyself @wtgilsa @red-pen-revolution @britishaccentfan @dischorde @plasticstrawsmuggler @youknowyougrow @one-thousand-splendid-stars @irina12maria

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the list. My apologies to anyone I have neglected to this point. I pledge to do better.

#Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #sherlockholmes #sherlock loves john #sherlock fanfic #sherlock roller derby #john watson #johnwatson #johnlock #Johnlock fanfic #johnlock au

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spacegaywritings · 4 years

Text

Communication of Silence - Chapter 10

Sorry for the late update. The next chap is safe but the one after might have a delay. I will update you. The current situation is causing me a lot of work and issues, so it is struggle time.

Everyone be safe and treat yourself and others with kindness♥

ao3 link! story under the cut.

The door leaned into its frame and lazily stuck around.

Dee leaned down to give Virgil’s forehead one last kiss.

“Be safe. Drive, like, slow or whatever... d-don’t get hurt, okay?”

She laughed.

She was even more beautiful whenever she laughed.

“I will be safe and sound. And you will be too. You will go to therapy tomorrow or on Tuesday - otherwise I will cancel.”

Virgil commented with a scoff and significant eyeroll.

“Who are you? My sibling?”

Dee’s deer brown eyes gained another layer of depth and the emo could not help but sigh in defeat. He could feel her

“Good night, my love. Take care of Patton.”

Virgil stepped back to support the door in being so close to home and so far from the beauty leaving their proximity.

“Good night, Dee. Love you. I know.. I will.”

She smiled at him and disappeared down the staircase, hat covering her head and coat making sure that not too much of her handsome self would be unleashed onto this world all at once.

He went back inside and told Patton goodnight.

Just thinking about the ginger made Virgil hurt inside.

This while weekend had been a whole mess of ups and downs.

Not eating again, passing out on physical exercise and seeing his precious rat and older sibling again.

And having Dee meet the others just felt like the weirdest blur ever.

All in all, it felt.. not that bad.

Well, that was for hid diary to decide.

He just had to sit down and list all the happy things he had done today and how much he liked. His pages would soak it up and he could make a recap of the week.

In a few days, he would be old enough to drink alcohol, legally.

It was wild.

Just last year, his life was in shatters and he had tried putting it back together and now he was in a rather stable home and he had a person who respected him and family and friends and even a place where he could study.

Life really did get better.. somehow..

That was nice to know.

He smiled when he got back into his and Logan’s shared room.

“That was certainly something, today”

Logan greeted him with a voice, more neutral than Switzerland. Even his face looked absolutely untouched, for a sculptor to be sculpted.

The emo cleared his throat and trotted over to his mattress, losing more and more clothing as he progressed.

He was comfortable with taking his jacket off around Logan - or his hoodie in that case.

The hoodie landed on the mattress first and Virgil groaned as he simply threw himself onto the mattress, shirt coming off and pants half-way following as he lazily wiggled around.

His legs’ movement slowly died down and he commented on it with yet another groan.

“If you mean something, as in a fuckton of bullshit and feelings, then yeah - you are right.”

His words came out like spit. It was sudden, forceful and in front of a certain amount of emotions.

A sigh escaped his lips and Logan turned to him, glancing over his roommate’s laying form.

There was something about Virgil in only shorts.

Logan could see colourful as much as black ink .

When Virgil drew his hand through his hair, he blinked.

“Another tattoo? I did not see this one before.”

The emo curled up and pulled at the clothed he had just shed, forming a little pile of them.

“Yeah, uh... I ..um”, he started but broke off.

The words were too stubborn to work for him so he simply swung his body back into a sitting position and let his right arm stretch over the edge of Logan’s bed.

“There you go. If you wanted to see it. I got it this weekend so you could not have seen it before..”, he trailed off and looked at Logan who was adjusting his chair to face Virgil’s body.

He could look at the other without twisting his back in any awkward way, now.

He could see an arrow, several symbols and words connected by strings and colours.

It mostly looked monochromatic but the emphasis was made with certain accents of different shades of colour from the rainbow.

Enticing.

Logan did enjoy examining tattoos. He found the patterns to be calming and it was fascinating to see what kind of decoration people paid to embed in their skin.

The meanings.. oh, they were also a good point - considering someone had a deeper motivation behind getting certain motifs.

“May I ask what this.. foil is?”

Indeed, as Logan pointed it out, there was some sort of invisible foil strapped over the new design.

“Ah, yeah. They give you that as protection for the tattoo. It is so the open wound created can, like, heal up without anything getting into it. Others might just instruct you to put some stuff onto it every time the skin is dry. Like, they give you special tattoo lotion that is sort of anti-bacterial or whatever. But with this weird foil uh.. or whatever you wanna call it, you just leave it on and then moisturise three times a day. You keep it on for.. two weeks, I think. Yeah, I think it was one or two. “

Virgil blinked.

“I forgot but I put a reminder in my phone so I will not miss it. I just keep forgetting these kidna things, every now and then.”

He shrugged.

Logan nodded.

The invisible patch reminded him of water-proof band-aids. Considering the looks of it, they probably served as something like this.

He had never known about any of these techniques.

Virgil smiled at the nerd.

His lips hung a bit low despite being curled like a melon slice.

“Why did you .. I mean, why do you get all these tattoos? Do they mean anything to you or is it just for the aesthetics?”

The other snorted and leaned back onto his bed.

“You are funny Logan. You really are.”

His voice seemed to purr and his words were dancing into Logan’s ears. Sounds were swinging and the fierce smile of his friend was sensually sprawling over the elder student’s vision.

He cleared his throat.

“Anyway, this is some kinda sibling bullshit thing. I have been meaning to do that for a while already and finally got to it.”

Virgil looked down at his arm and played with his dirty laundry.

Just... pushing at his hoodie.

Hey, that one was actually good to wear again at least one or two more times. Hoodies were so hard on catching smells that he loved them even more.

They were the kind of low maintenance clothing he needed in his life.

“I only recently finished the sketch for it so my sibling went ahead and got it this weekend. I got it the day after so we could go and be there for one another..”, he licked his lips, “you know, sibling shit and all. I kinda fell asleep when I got mine. The vibrations are sort of relaxing and the sound is soothing.”

Logan chuckled.

“I never heard of that.”

The other got up and put on his hoodie again, no shirt for underneath. His boxers got changed and he put his dirty laundry into the nearby basket.

“Hey Virgil?”

A hum could be heard.

The man was fishing inside of his sleepover bag and eventually got out a book.

“Do you sleep enough?”

The words fell onto the ground like a judge’s gavel hitting the desk.

“uh... where did that come from?”

He laid down but made sure to glance over at Logan.

All he could see was his back since the other was sitting at his desk, writing away as if he was not just starting up some conversation between them with this particularly hot topic.

“Where did that evasion come from?”

Oof.

Gotcha.

“I swear to the stars, Logan, you are a treat.”

Virgil chuckled and the IT student put his pen aside.

“You are awake, no matter when I wake up. You fall asleep in weird places, at odd times. I saw you doze off at work - now even at a tattoo parlor when enduring pain? You stated looking paler and more stressed these days and even your eye rings appear to be much darker than I observed before. Therefore, I concluded you might lack sleep.”

Virgil scoffed at him but did not dare deny his words.

It was true.. not that it was that hard to make out just how sleep-deprived he was but Logan really hit the nail.

“However, you seem more refreshed when you visited your friends or your sibling. I assume you sleep together?”

Virgil started scribbling into his stupid diary update therapy shit book thing.

Nerdy, yeah..

Still, it kinda helped him so he did not complain. He actually kinda dug the book and enjoyed writing into it.

It was empowering to see the good happening in his life or just writing down some shit he felt bad about so he could find out how and why he was more anxious in certain times.

He hummed.

“I uh.. don’t take it personal but.. I just can’t relax here. I .. I am.. It is not because of you.”

Fuck, he sounded like some cliche guy breaking up with someone.

“Uh, I mean.. This is my problem. I am just stupidly anxio- I mean.. I am anxious a lot and it is hard to sleep and shit but it is okay.”

He bit his lips.

...self-deprecation was high again.. He put a 6 on his one to ten scale.

“It happens or whatever. It is not like I am the only person to ever have sleeping problems or whatever.”

His shoulders shrugged.

Meanwhile, Logan noted down Virgil’s response.

“Fellow lover of Bunny Smashskull, would you fancy sleeping in the bed with me?”

Virgil’s mind stopped for a moment.

Tha..there was more than a bit of information packed into this short sentence.

He.. uh..

“I- what?”

He blinked and Logan opened his mouth again to start speaking but Virgil rose his hand, eyes hardening.

“What do you mean with that sleep thing?”

His whole body seemed to resemble a cat arching its back. If he had a tail, it would be all fluffy and big, every hair on his body would probably stand up like crazy.

Logan’s brows furrowed together.

He had expected his friend to reacted with a bit more confusion and less... whatever this was. But his words suggested that if Logan did not take careful steps, he would make his friend leave.

He already sounded as if he was halfway out of the door.

Virgil had a place he had never mentioned before... now that he thought about it, it felt as if he had stopped talking about himself at all ever since he had moved in. Safe for some moments, they had barely talked at all because he was just staying away a lot.

Was Virgil avoiding him?

“Virgil, not sleeping is very unhealthy and while I am not your caretaker, I am your friend. As a friend I am expressing my concern for your health as a lack of can increase the risk of many diseases and illnesses to break out - mental and physical ones alike. I noticed you falling asleep with me on the couch despite the amount of people around us, so I suspected that bodily warmth next to you might be beneficial for your sleeping cycle.”

The emo looked at the nerd, his shoulders immediately dropping to a regular position. The cat fur was smooth and nice again.

He looked so small and tired.

Not once have the dark circles looked as miserable as during this moment.

“You are.. worried?”

The words came out in a rather silent whisper. The short sentence was once step before the other in a house with loud and squeaky wood planks when you were awake at night and needed a snack but did not want to wake up your relatives.

The emphasis on the last word made Logan question whether Virgil doubted him that much or rather his own worth.

Both sounded bad.

“Of course I am worried. Again, I am your friend and I want you to be well - as much as you can be. If sleeping together in a bed is out of your comfort zone, I would agree to you letting your friends sleep over if you keep it to a reasonable volume.”

Virgil’s eyes blinked rapidly.

Logan fucking hated people in his space. When Patton as much as nudged the open door further open, the student of computer sciences would get all cranky.

Well, okay maybe he did not hate people but he did value his personal space and he took it very serious.

Once Roman wanted to put his part of the laundry into Logan’s room and loudly announced at as he did so and Logan immediately rushed over and gave the other a more than hefty talk on respecting his boundaries, commenting on how he could have just dropped it in front of his room’s door.

He had said much more than that and Roman had eventually backed away and muttered something under his breath.

Those things made Virgil wonder how and why Logan of all people lived with a person such as Roman but...

His face turned sour again and his chest hurt.

He let out a whine but quickly formed it into a groan.

“Ugh, whatever. We can sleep together and test your hypotheses or whatever, nerd. If that lets you leave me alone”

His lips pulled into the top corner of one side.

Logan knew he did that in instances when Virgil did not feel upset at all. It was more an action of deliberation or rather uplifting feelings.

He needed to observe it further but he had found a connection between Virgil’s feelings and his lips pulling into a downward curve.

“You would help me with my science project?”

The words tickled Virgil’s nose and he had to smile away the weird feeling in his stomach.

“Yeah, because we are friends and shit. Like, I care about you and stuff. But just because I had fucking biscuits and they gave me a really good mood.”

Logan snickered and turned his attention back to his writing for a bit. It did not last for too long despite Virgil continuing his scribbles and whatnot himself. Eventually, the smaller student put his pen aside and closed his notebook.

“Wait a moment. You fucking know Bunny Smashskull? I am awake, this is not a dream and you asked me about the band, right?”

He sat up properly and put his notebook aside.

For now, his thoughts were too wild to focus again. His fight or flight reflexes had taken over too much of his logical reasoning once more.

Logan was still writing, from as much as Virgil could judge.

Really, he could just see his back so there was not too much telling but his arm seemed to flinch a bit every now and then.

“Log you fucking nerd, answer the question -”

A smug smile stole itself onto his lips and he got up from his mattress to sit on the one-time-their bed. His notebook was cradled in his lap, just in case.

The roommate shrugged.

“So what if I did?”

Virgil inhaled audibly.

“Shut up, you do not - “, he started but paused mid-sentence, words stuck in his mind as he realised what he had said and heard so far. His voice dropped from a grand revelation in announcement volume to a low one in the regular fashion of discussing a secret between thieves.

“Holy shit, you do!”

Logan back flexed but he did not speak.

Instead, he kept writing slowly, neatly for a bit longer.

Virgil was tempted to walk over and look at his notes.. or to just put his hands on his shoulders and annoy him a bit but he did not know what Logan was writing.

He did not really want to know, really. Curiosity wanted to know for the sake of finding out whatever he did not know.

“Log, fucking talk to me and talk to my face, you hear me? This is wild! I never took you for the type to rock it.”

The nerd slowly turned around.

“You never took me for the type? Very well, I was aware of my ability to hide away my interests but I did not expect myself to be that good.”

He was tugging at his shirt as if to adjust a bowtie or a necktie. Something fancy and serious like the stuff people in suit would wear.

Come to think of it, Dee did this every now and then.

Virgil leaned in.

It was time to bond and shit.

“Your secret is safe with me, log. I promise.”

Virgil shifted on the bed and patted a spot next to him.

His friend took the hint and put his notebooks (multiple notebooks, alright, nerdy nerd) to their respective places.

And Logan damn made sure to took his sweet sweet time with it.

“What’s your favourite song?”, he whisper-screamed to his friend.

Their shoulders were touching and Virgil felt fuzzy in his mind.

He giggled.

This felt like a silly sleepover already and it seemed funny to him.

Logan smiled and pulled his phone out.

“My favourite songs is “Laws and bones break better than hearts” but I am biased”, he tapped a few icons on his phone and handed it over to Virgil for him to see a younger version of Logan.

The younger one was still absurdly tall, still smaller than Patton - younger Patton - who was next to him. They were wearing black shirts with the band logo in front of it.

A crowd of people was behind them and Logan’s cheeks were red from heat and sweat but he was smiling and he looked breathless.

Breathtaking, even.

“You are biased because you went to a concert, you fucking traitor!”, Virgil exclaimed and nudged Logan’s side, “Can I swipe?”

Logan agreed and he continued to go through the collection of pictures.

Hair disheveled and shirt too big, he was pressed against Patton and smiling into the camera.

He barely got to see Logan so off-guard but it was.. refreshing.

It was much nicer than seeing him wear ties at work and keep going through flashcards before lessons so he could make a better impression or whatever.

He barely knew Logan’s lips could do something as ambitious as smile so brightly.

“You look really happy, Log..”

He had reached the end of pictures.

It was Logan just hugging Patton close.

“I got the tickets back there”, he explained as he took his phone back, “Patton knows nothing about any bands I like nor does he understand how I enjoy this sort of music. He just went ahead and asked random online strangers about which bands to recommend because he wanted to make my 18th birthday really special.”

Logan’s lips formed the same alluring smile.

It was softer than feathers and lighter than wings.

He really seemed like a divine creature with his face smiling like that.

“Looks like he got that right. I am in groups a lot and it is not that uncommon for people to ask for advice on new songs and artists but seeing a completely clueless person just join for a friend? That is wild. But it does sound like a thing Patton would do.”

Virgil leaned back, his arms crossing behind the back of his head. He folded his hands over one another in his neck.

“You giants are too friendly. Can’t relate.”

His smirk was teasing.

Logan got up and got the shirt.

“I will sleep in this. I want to sleep in it.”

Virgil chuckled.

“You’re the boss, Log. I am not gonna fight you over a night shirt.”

The nerd changed into his band merchandise and Virgil moved over to lay on his side and finish his journaling thing.

“Diary?”

He shook his head.

The bed dipped next to him and the blanket started moving.

Virgil grunted back at the movement but a few more tugs had him move over so the blanket could be on top of them rather than on the bed only.

“Journal thing for therapy. Sucks but it is also kinda helpful so I am trying to stick to it ‘n all.”

He shrugged.

“My favourite song is “poison”, by the way. Fucking underrated.”

Logan laid down next to him and put his glasses aside.

“It is a good song indeed”

Virgil hummed.

“ m done”

He dropped pen and book onto his mattress.

“uh.. let us try this.. this sleep thingy and all. Can’t go wrong, right?”

His shoulders shrugged and he slid under the blanket with his friend. The smaller figure felt like a plank himself.

Virgil flinched and got up as soon as his whole body was in a sleeping position.

“Fuck!”, he hissed and toppled after his notebook, “the light. Log, we are fucking stupid in the chilis tonight.”

Logan huffed.

“It is too late for memes, Virgil.”

Virgil walked around to shut the light and slowly stumbled back to bed.

“You can pull memes from my cold, dead hands, pocket protector. It is always meme time but night time is even more intense meme time.”

“But to be fair, at least because of me you know that this is a meme”

The blanket rustled from Logan’s body vibrating in his quiet chuckles.

“You sending me confusing pictures and sentences during working hours is not educational.”

Virgil settled in bed and curled up.

“But I might have learned from it anyway, Virg.”

It was his turn to chuckle and the emo made sure to get comfortable with his pillow from the mattress quickly being moved up to assist him.

And his blanket.

He still shared the blanket Logan was using but the more blanket, the better. Sleepy time was the perfect time to be warm and comfortable after all.

They laid still for a bit. It was quiet and sleepy.

Outside, Roman could be heard. He was talking, probably to Patton but it was too far away to make out any words at all.

It was just Roman-ish noises.

Roman was probably offended about something at work and needed to harass Patton about it even though that man was busy too and had worries too. Oh dear fuck, he really did.

Virgil wanted to just walk out and pull Patton into the happy slumber bed with him and Logan instead of letting him subject himself to Roman’s offended princey noises.

Ugh...

But it was like nine in the evening and Patton would work on his study stuff before actually going to sleep. And Roman would just fuss around.

...It was already special enough Logan allowed Virgil to sleep in his bed after all they had talked about, after all he had been through.

For some reason, he felt a bit ashamed to be in the same bed with him, to intrude so much but he quickly banished the thought.

Logan did not force himself to let Virgil into his bed. He had asked him and he was being upright about it and had napped with him before, on the same day even so.

“Virgil?”

The emo shifted a bit, his movements intentionally slow and uncoordinated.

He might not have been the best actor in the world but he knew how to pretend being asleep or waking up jut then and there. Years of training had taught him well.

Sometimes, experience was a much better teacher than getting a license and some degree.

“mhm..?”

His sounds were haphazard and sounded just silent, muffled and hidden enough to mimic the innocence of a person who was slowly detaching from the promising and sweet dreams of their mighty sleep.

“Do you hate it here?”

Virgil shifted more to the edge.

If he had to leap, he would.

“What do you mean? I thought you wanted to sleep, not start a conversation.”

He heard someone clear his throat.

Outside of their room, Roman was laughing and Virgil flinched.

A shiver ran down his spine. He pressed his eyes closed and held onto his sleeves.

“You are not sleeping, let me talk to you.”

He sat up and put on the lamp on the nearby nightstand.

Only Logan was enough of a person to have a night light with fancy nice light that did not hurt the tired eyes too much.

Coloured light was the only valid thing to ever exist for waking one up in the middle of the night.

Virgil scoffed but followed his friend’s lead to sit up and whatnot.

Leaning against the wall behind him, he rubbed his eyes.

“ugh, whatever”, he mumbled and tugged the blanket closer around him. Even then, he did not stop tugging and nudging the ends of it with his fidgety fingers, “what do you want, Log?”

He sounded as if on trial for murdering a man and his hands were still pushing the murder weapon from one bloodied hand to the other.

Logan meekly watched him, without glasses and only a bare minimum of light, it was difficult to make out what Virgil was doing or what he looked like.

“Okay, okay. You go give me the talk, teach. What did I do?”

The smaller student’s hand was hanging low and his fingers were fidgeting still as they resided in his lap.

Logan swallowed dry before he decided to answer.

“You did not do anything, Virgil, please do not take my worries or my curiosity as offence. I was just wondering why you were so uncomfortable here.”

The words easily made their way out of Logan’s mouth but for Virgil, they were less like releasing feathers to the wind and just watching them flow. It was pushing the big and heavy rock up the hill instead of Sisyphus and the chore was bound to never stop.

The shivers gave him goosebumps so bad he pulled his knees to his chest to preserve body warmth.

“Who said I am?”

Virgil was the still holding onto the metaphorical knife but it was so much easier to keep telling himself it was not him as he nodded his head as if to shake off the truth.

If he just denied the reality hard enough, maybe he could do it.

“Virgil, please. It is obvious. Do you want me to point out every moment you made it clear you dislike being here? Only today you gave me so many pieces of evidence.”

The friend exhaled.

His breath was a bit rocky.

Logan’s words truly had a punching effect on him.

“If I say it, will you let me promise me to let it go and just move on already?”

Virgil glared at him, eyes barely focusing on the man before him.

Even with the near-complete darkness they were in, Virgil could see Logan through his heavy bangs shielding his vulnerable face from the knowledgeable judge that was his nerdy friend.

“If you are saying the truth, I might.”

He scoffed.

“I fucking hate you.”

His words sounded less bitter, more desperate and weak. Almost like a plead.

They were asking him not to press further on it.

“It is him. Now good-fucking-night, Logan.”

With that, Virgil turned around and plugged in earbuds so he could listen to something that was not Logan.

The nerd gave up and fulfilled his side of the promise.

It was not as if he had not expected that answer.

...He just had not expected Virgil to get so upset over it..

The IT student called it and shut the lamp.

Despite the warmth in the bed and another person in it, he felt horribly lonely.

It took him ages to fall asleep.

Figuratively.

#ts analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #anxceit #fanfiction #fanfic #fanficion #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction

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mummy-in-lockdown · 4 years

Text

The start...

I’m pregnant! It’s a girl! She’s due May 2020! Less than 2 months left at work! BANG!! Coronavirus hits the UK. Lockdown began!

When I found out I was pregnant in September 2019 I was both extremely happy and very shocked. We’d only been married a month! I took over 20 tests to keep checking I was pregnant! I don’t think I fully believed it until the first scan.

I’d had a relatively good pregnancy in the first few months. Not a lot of morning sickness and coped quite well. The main thing I ‘suffered’ from was swollen feet, the children I taught said I had feet like an elephant! Cheeky I know!

I remember the day lockdown for me began - Tuesday 17th March. Prime Minister Boris Johnson held a news conference on the Monday to explain that Pregnant Women were classed in the vulnerable category and should take measures to protect themselves. I didn’t know what to do. Legally could I leave work? Should I leave to protect me and the baby? Would I still get paid? Or would I be forced to start my maternity? It was March! There was no way I wanted to start my maternity 2 months early! Safe to say I didn’t sleep well that night!

I got into work early on the 17th. I was definitely the first teacher in. I started to pack some of my things just in case I made the decision to leave. I just didn’t know what to do. By 10am the decision had been made for me. I was told to go home and thank God I was still getting paid!

Saying goodbye to my class was hard. I knew I wouldn’t be back till after my baby was born and it was hard that I never got the chance to say a proper goodbye.

Coming home that day I didn’t know what to do. So I sat and had a hot drink (never get a chance to do that midweek!!). It was a bit of a novelty. The next couple of days were relaxing. It felt normal to be honest, just kind of felt like it was half term. After two weeks, it hit me. It was probably because of my hormones but there was one particular day I just couldn’t stop crying. Sitting at home within the same four walls was hard. My husband was at work full time and I’d not left my house in over 14 days. I missed the freedom to visit people or even go to shops. I think it hit me more because I, along with everyone else, didn’t know how long this would last.

I had just reached over 32 weeks and things took a turn. I’d stopped feeling my baby move or kick. On the drive to the hospital I remember being very quiet and my husband was trying his best to keep my spirits up. We’ve been told on the phone that I would have to go into hospital on my own. I had not been to any appointments without him and this day of all days I needed him there. I got in the antenatal day unit and everyone was wearing masks, had gloves on and aprons on and it all felt quite scary. I had to turn my phone off as they affected the machines so I had no contact with my husband for the whole time I was in there. The nurses strapped me up to the monitor and took my blood pressure and left me to sit and wait. As I sat there I watched the monitor. I was watching my little girls heartbeat, thanking God that I knew she was still there. It was the biggest relief after days of not feeling her. The nurses explained that they needed me to come back every day for the next week at least to continue monitoring.

After a week of attending the unit the doctor came to see me and explained that due to me being diabetic and the fact that gradually every day my blood pressure was going higher they wanted me to continue to come in twice a week for the rest of my pregnancy. This was to have her monitored, to check my blood pressure, and have blood tests carried out.

As it continued my blood pressure had gone very high and I was put on medication to control it. I had also had a blood test which revealed that I was pre-eclampsia and they continued to monitor this. At 36 Weeks I had a scan to check on the baby’s size and was told that the baby was still in a breech position and I agreed to have a procedure called a External cephalic version (ECV). This is where a Doctor presses on your stomach to push the baby into the right place. There are risks to this procedure, one being a tear in the placenta or a change to the baby’s heartbeat. But I still made the decision to have it carried out. So on the 28th April I had to pack my hospital bags into the car just in case they had to bring the baby out. Again just like all the other times I had to go into hospital on my own. I had to read all the risks. I had to make all the decisions on my own.

I’m not going to lie or play it down but the ECV was so painful and so scary I’m not sure I could do it again. The doctor pushed on my stomach so hard I thought he was going to hurt the baby and I was convinced she was going to have to be brought out as an emergency. I remembered crying thinking all I wanted was my husband there to help me through it and to be with me in case anything went wrong. It’s not a situation I would wish on anyone. At the end of the procedure I sat there for another hour while they monitored the baby to check that everything was still ok. All I could do was pray. Pray that she was ok. Pray that she was safe.

The doctor eventually came back and explained that the ECV had failed and they had been unable to turn the baby around. This then meant I would have to have a Caesarean at about 39 weeks. I’ll be honest when my husband picked me up and we drove home I felt like a failure. Not being able to give birth naturally made me feel like a failure. I had a plan. A plan to give birth with my husband next to me. With all this time at home I had written what would be the most perfect birth plan. But it’s so true what people used to say to me, when you have a baby your birth plan goes out the window.

A few days later I was back in hospital for my weekly monitoring. My husband decided to go do some shopping as I was in hospital for about two hours each time. They put the monitor on me as usual, they took my blood pressure and checked my bloods from the previous time I was in. But this time it felt different, this time I knew something wasn’t right....

#newmum #newmummy #muminlockdown #coronavirus #pandemic2020 #babygirl #babyuk #pregnancy #hospitais #maternity #monitoring

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peter-parkers-passport · 5 years

Text

Flower Child (Peter Parker x ofc)

Chapter 3: Strange Nights

warnings: language, depictions of anxiety, poor Lila not catching a break

To say that Lila was weirded out by the events of the night before would be a semi-inaccurate understatement. She wasn’t weirded out, to her, it was more comparable to meeting a celebrity. Like when Peter told her how he came home to Tony Stark sitting on his living room couch. Peter Parker walking through her house felt like playing out something that was supposed to stay in her head. And her dad was definitely not part of the picture.

Regardless, her dad made tomato basil as promised, and got acquainted with the boy Lila had been secretly crushing on for forever. Lila picked out a record from her mom’s collection (Sheer Heart Attack from Queen’s repertoire) and they all enjoyed the conversation that lasted through the evening. And for a while, Lila merely observed the two of them talking about a wide variety of topics. Content with only piping in here and there, it wasn’t until Peter started talking about Tony Stark’s clean energy initiative that Lila really started investing herself in the conversation. It was something she and her dad had talked about countless times, trying to incorporate several of Stark’s inventions into their store to minimize their carbon footprint. Peter listened with great and genuine interest, pitching several ideas to Ted and Lila about how to better involve the clean energy they wished to use. Dinner ended with Ted jotting notes down on a legal notepad as Peter spoke rather excitedly.

When it was time to do the dishes, it was mentioned that Peter’s aunt was May Parker, the woman the Landry family volunteered with on Sundays down at one of the local homeless shelters in Queens. Peter smiled a small, proud smile as Ted talked about how amazing her work was in the Queens community, how she was instrumental in keeping everyone close and friendly with each other. Almost bashfully, Peter repeatedly said thanks, knowing May would be thrilled to hear that. He was politely insistent that he help clean everything up, and it became an assembly line of dishwashing. Ted washed, Peter dried, and Lila placed them in the dishwasher. Lila thought the night was ending, until Peter asked if she had Mr. Puth for AP Literature. Peter missed the homework assignment for that day, and wondered if Lila had it written down somewhere. Which she did, it was in her planner, which was in her backpack, which was in her bedroom since they got home.

She anxiously led Peter down the hallway, furiously blushing as her dad mouthed to her to keep the door open, and walked into her bedroom. She silently thanked the Asgardians that she made her bed and pick up her room that morning before school. Peter looked around the room with a polite interest, noting the brick wall, the bed, the large desk, even larger bookshelf, and the record player perched in between. “You guys seem to really like record players,” He noted, walking further into the room. He could smell the faint notes of the candle that sat on Lila’s desk, and it didn’t go unnoticed the picture of the beautiful woman that matched all the other pictures around their house. This one was different, she had a little girl perched in her lap, both elegantly dressed, and they were looking at each other like they had the funniest secret between them in the whole world. When Peter looked back to Lila, he saw she was looking at the same picture.

“Yeah, my - my mom and dad kind of bonded over that stuff. I g-grew up on the sound, since they both had an extensive collection. And when records started coming back, I started building my own. It was - it was a way to feel closer to my mom.” She walked over to her bookshelf, where an entire shelf was dedicated to vinyl records. She pulled one out, smiling softly at the cover, and placed a record on the player. Soon, soft notes of trumpets filled the room. She then went over to her desk, where her backpack was sitting in her chair, very aware of Peter still looking around her room. In her mind, she was going over any and everything that could possibly be judged. Part of the reason why she kept her room minimally decorated was so she could avoid that-

“You’re into photography?”

Lila’s head whirled around, back to the bookshelf where Peter now stood. He held her camera in his hands, observing the model and its features as well. She blushed, gripping her planner tightly. “Yeah, uh - just a hobby. I like - I like looking back at how much New York’s changed just over the c-course of my life.”

“Do you mind?” Peter held up the camera, asking if he could look through her photos. She shook her head and invited him to sit down on her bed. She sat down on her desk chair and watched with bated breath as he looked through all her pictures. It wasn’t something she was embarrassed of, or felt they were very private, but she knew that Peter was an avid photographer, and felt that they were on too different of skill levels to be comparing each other’s work. Yet again, Lila was surprised by Peter’s kindness, for he smiled at every picture she took. “These pictures are really… happy. All of them.”

He looked back up at her, silently asking for an explanation. She shrugged, sighing as she thought about it. “Yeah, well, some photographers capitalize on pain, and anguish, and stuff that really m-matters. I guess... I think people sometimes forget that h-happiness matters too. I know all about - about anguish, and pain, and - and sadness. S-So I think it’s important to remember that happiness happens all around us. And I take happy pictures so I - so I remember that.” A look that Lila couldn’t read ran through Peter’s eyes, before a smile took over his features.

The pair spent the next hour talking about random topics before Peter had to leave. They were so wrapped up in their conversation that Peter almost forgot to get the homework assignment from Lila. And Lila didn’t even realize that her stutter lessened significantly over the course of the pair talking to each other.

*****

“One black coffee,” Lila declared as she held out a thermos to Michelle. She found her friend at the foot of the stairs, her hands moving across the pages of her sketchbook as she took on the morning scene. MJ glanced up, eyeing the coffee suspiciously, like Lila had slipped arsenic in it just because. She then looked up to Lila, who sighed, “My dad made some this morning. Apparently, he’s scheduled to provide arrangements for a charity event with the Osborn’s, and has to get started on it today. I asked him to save you some.” Michelle merely stared at Lila, and she took it as a need to fill the silence. “I didn’t have any, okay? I had some Earl Grey this morning.” A skeptical raise of the eyebrow made a huff pass Lila’s lips. “It was decaf.”

“It’s just that the last time-”

“I’m well aware of the last time I had caffeine,” Lila stated grumpily as Michelle took the thermos from her, savoring the drink. She was with Lila that Saturday in April, when Lila’s anxiety had taken a turn for the worse. It was nearing the anniversary of her mother’s death, and Lila was feeling not at all like herself. Michelle suggested coffee and a bookstore, trying to get her mind off of her troubles when she realized that it was a mistake. She’d left for a few minutes to look at sketchbooks when she found Delilah sobbing over a kitten calendar. Realizing that the caffeine probably only made things worse for her, Michelle made Lila promise that she’d cut it out of her life entirely. Lila agreed wholeheartedly, and hadn’t touched it since.

A honk sounded from behind them, and Lila turned around in time to see Peter narrowly avoid being hit by Flash Thompson’s expensive car. He greeted Peter in his usual fashion (“Sup, Penis Parker!”), and drove around to the parking lot. Silently cursing Flash out, and making sure to make their next tutoring session extra difficult, her eyes once again landed on Peter. She saw as he clenched his jaw, and took out his headphones. Walking over to the stairs, she gathered up her courage to say, “Good morning, Peter,” as he walked by her. He glanced to the side, and smiled softly at Lila, not forgetting what she told him about Flash yesterday. He waved to her, then to Michelle, and headed inside. Lila turned back around and looked to Michelle, blushing as she noticed MJ watching the whole interaction. “That was what the coffee was for.”

Michelle took a sip, “It was for Peter?”

“No, no, it was for you,” Lila tightened her ponytail before resting her hands on the straps of her backpack. She waited for Michelle to put her things away before heading up the stairs with her friend and into the school. “I just wanted to say thanks for pushing me to talk to Peter.”

“I didn’t push you to do anything of the sort. Talking to high school boys is pointless.” MJ’s locker was the closest to the two of them, and she pulled out everything she needed for her morning classes. She silently handed back the coffee to Lila to hold and placed her bag into her locker before shutting it. Taking the coffee from Lila, they headed down the hallway to her locker, so she could get ready for the day as well.

Lila smiled, knowing that Michelle had her quirks, and had her ways of being there for Lila, though she’d never outright admit it. This was one of them. “Thanks for knowing it’s not - it’s not pointless to me.” All she got in return was a nod.

*****

The next time Michelle showed that she was there for Lila was during lunch, when the two of them sat at the end of a table. On the opposite side were Peter and his friend, Ned Leeds, another boy Lila knew from academic decathlon. Michelle hadn’t taken her eyes off of her book save to drink out of her milk carton. Lila was working on her homework, occasionally eating some of the veggies and hummus she’d packed. She usually would’ve been editing something or other for Sophie’s podcast, or helping her dad with certain orders for the shops, but Liz Allan had mentioned that Lila might need to practice some more with the other teammates for nationals. She did an excellent job the day before, but Liz wanted to make sure she could be competitive in every aspect of what they were likely to be tested on. So there she sat, working on calculus homework across from her best friend.

Speaking of Liz Allan, she was busy working across the cafeteria, setting up homecoming posters and banners alike around the room. Lila would’ve thought nothing of it, but then Peter and Ned had to start talking to each other. Glancing over at the pair of them, they were sat next to each other rather than across like Lila and Michelle, and they both had awestruck expressions on their faces. Following their gaze back to Liz, Lila’s stomach sank. “Did Liz get a new top?”

“No,” Ned answered easily. “We’ve seen that before, but never with that skirt.” The pair of them and Lila looked back over at Liz, who was sporting a very preppy sweater and jean skirt, paired with white high tops. There was nothing remotely outstanding about Liz’s cute outfit, but Lila couldn’t help but start feeling uncomfortable in her soft sweater and jeans, wondering why she didn’t start wearing cuter clothes…

“We should stop staring before it gets creepy, though,” Peter suggested, still not taking his eyes off Liz.

Michelle, who noticed Lila’s grip on her pencil tighten significantly, but otherwise showed no outward signs of distress or discomfort, looked over to the two boys. “Too late,” She said. The boys looked over to her and Lila, who was also looking at Michelle with a confused expression on her face. “You guys are losers.” If she felt the kick that Lila landed to her shin, she didn’t show it. She simply turned back to her book.

“But, then why do you sit with us?” Ned asked.

Looking back up at them, Michelle answered, “Because I don’t have any friends.”

If the boys weren’t bewildered before, they sure were at that statement. Both pairs of eyes slid to Lila, who still had a slightly wide-eyed look. A pale pink sat on her cheeks when they both looked at her until Ned looked back at Michelle. “I thought Lila was your friend.”

“Is she?” Michelle didn’t even bother to look up from her book at that statement. Peter and Ned both looked back to Lila, who merely offered a shrug in response. She was about to say something to them when her phone buzzed with a text from Sophie. She saw the time displayed on her phone and realized she had to leave if she wanted to talk to one of her teachers about some of the homework. She started putting everything away, but not before tapping Michelle’s foot with her own, much more gently this time, as a way of saying thanks for supporting her when she was letting her mind and her jealousy get the best of her. Then she scurried off out of the cafeteria.

*****

“Next question,” Liz said, staring between the two tables perched on the stage. She stood in front of them, note cards on her stand as she read them off. “What is the heaviest naturally-occurring element?”

Sat at one of the two tables were Abraham and Cindy, then Ned and Charles. Lila sat next to Michelle at the edge of the stage, both reading different books. Lila’s was still for school, while MJ’s was merely for fun. Although, she wasn’t sure how Of Human Bondage would be a book to read for fun, but who was Lila to judge. Charles, a boy with big glasses and an even bigger sense of humor, rang the bell on his table. “Hydrogen’s the lightest,” He answered confidently, before adding, “That’s not the question. Okay, yeah,” He went back to look at his notes, but the other table rang the bell. “Uranium!” Abraham answered, and Liz nodded approvingly.

“That is correct. Thank you, Abraham.” Abraham had a smug look on his face as they turned back to their notes. Lila’s gaze flickered over from Liz to Flash, who was sitting with his feet propped up and was reading what looked like a comic book. She saw Sally laying on the floor, feet in the air as she worked on her own homework. “Please open your books to page ten.”

Then finally, Lila’s stare caught on to Peter, talking in a hushed voice to Mr. Harrington. “... Because if Mr. Stark needs me, I have to make sure I’m here.”

“You’ve never even been in the same room as Tony Stark,” Flash said from across the way, the degrading tone of his voice not sitting well with Lila. It never did. The way Peter tensed, Lila could tell it didn’t sit well with him either. That made her feel worse.

“Wait. What’s happening?” Cindy asked, taking everyone’s attention and putting it on Peter and Mr. Harrington.

Sally answered, “Peter’s not coming to Washington.”

Everyone felt a tinge of dread. Peter was one of their strongest assets on the team, and everyone remembered how he dominated the physics question that stumped everyone else in a competition last year. Cindy was just the first to vocalize her dismay. “What? No, no, no, no, no.”

Abraham rang the bell. “Why not?”

“Really?” Liz added, trying her best to be nice but her disappointment came through over much else. “Right before nationals?”

“He already quit marching band and robotics lab,” Michelle pointed out, to everyone’s confusion. The only person who wasn’t confused was right next to her, and her eyes got big. Lila panicked briefly, for everyone started to stare at Michelle for saying that out loud, wondering why she knew that. She looked at her teammates at the tables, who were all unashamedly looking her way, waiting for her to elaborate. “I’m not obsessed with him, just very observant.”

It did little to comfort her teammates, but Lila blew out a breath of relief. She was the one who mentioned all of that to Michelle in passing. She said it just to talk about it, not caring if Michelle was really listening. Lila supposed it was a little comforting to know that MJ did, in fact, actually listen to her when she talked from time to time. But then her mind shifted back into worry, wondering why Peter decided he needed to quit the team when he’d already given Mr. Harrington a permission slip to go with them all to Washington.

“Flash, you’re in for Peter,” Liz said, giving one last pointed look to Peter before returning to her cards.

Flash shook his head, not looking up from his comic. “Oof, I don’t know. I’ve gotta check my calendar first. I’ve got a hot date with Black Widow coming up.”

A bell was rung, followed by Abraham’s voice. “That is false.”

“What did I tell you about using the bell for comedic purposes?” Mr. Harrington scolded, before resignedly telling Peter it was okay for missing. The rest of the team went back to their normal practices, interchanging people who sat at the tables so that everyone (except for Peter) could get a chance to practice. Lila was improving, even managing to answer a few questions herself, which Liz praised highly. And at the end of their time, Liz pulled Lila aside and told her how great of a job she was doing.

She would’ve felt proud of herself, but Lila noticed Peter slip out before most of the kids could get their stuff. She sent a quiet thanks to Liz before following him out of the door. The bell overhead rang, and students started leaving their classrooms, making the hallway noisy again. She caught up to Peter, feeling a sense of déjà vu that she had to ignore. Like always, Peter seemed to sense that Lila was right behind him, for he turned around. He was looking relatively impatient, and that made Lila feel more nervous about talking to him. “P-Peter.”

“What’s up, Lila?”

She couldn’t beat around the bush, for she was starting to see patterns that she herself struggled to avoid for years. “I just - I just wanted to make sure you’re o-okay.” She saw him tense up slightly, not making herself gain more confidence. “I know we’re not - we’re not really that c-close or anything, but you - you seem kind of off.”

It was Peter’s turn to seem kind of nervous. Scratching at the back of his head, he looked down at Lila. “Really? How - how do you figure?”

“Quitting marching band, q-quitting robotics lab, and now - and now the decathlon. I don’t-” Lila swallowed, knowing that if she could help, she had to do her best. “ - I don’t want to overstep any b-boundaries by asking this but, would any of this - any of this h-have to do with - with your Uncle Ben?”

Peter’s eyes widened in understanding, and he shook his head. “Oh, no, it’s not-”

But Lila was on too much of a roll to stop. “B-Because when my mom died, I quit a - a lot of stuff, t-too. I sh-shut myself off from a lot of things that could’ve r-really helped me - helped me cope. And I just want t-to make sure that you’re doing okay-” Peter put his hands on her shoulders, not knowing how else to interrupt her. But it instantly shut her up.

Peter retracted his hands, smiling softly. “Thanks, Lila. It’s not that. I’m just - I want my internship to lead to a real job someday, so I’ve been taking more time to focus on that instead. You know, picking up extra jobs over there, it’s just taking a lot more of my time.”

Lila nodded. “I get it, my dad’s shop takes up a lot of my time. And I really like helping out over there, so I get it. Just - just make sure you soak up your t-time in high school, being a k-kid. It isn’t a-all so bad.”

He seemed to think about it, Peter’s smile growing a bit bigger. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thanks again, Lila.”

“S-Sorry you couldn’t make it to Washington,” She said before waving goodbye to Peter.

*****

“Ugh, my brain has been chucked in the deep fryer, Lila. Not even the Avengers are gonna be able to save me.” Sophie folded her arms on top of the counter and rest her head, shutting her eyes in exhaustion. Lila stared on in amusement, before turning back to her corner of the store and continuing to sweep. Collecting the scattered soil and placing it in the trash bin, she walked over to where Sophie was sprawled out and stood across from her in a motherly manner. Checking the clock, she realized she had every right to.

It read half-past seven, half an hour after the store closed for the evening. “Don’t you have, like, a giant test this week?”

“Friday,” Sophie groaned, not even moving from her spot.

Lila clenched the broom handle tighter and sighed. She was by no means a bossy person, it didn’t ever sit well with her, but when it came to taking care of the people she loved, Lila spared no expense. “And you told me you hadn’t even edited your next Origin Story. That’s supposed to be up on Saturday.” Sophie lifted her head from her arms to glare at Lila. Ignoring it, Lila set the broom down and placed her hands on the counter. “Look, why don’t you just go home? You can send me the file for your episode and I’ll do the editing before Saturday. You need to study for your test.”

Sophie stood up straight, suddenly looking unsure. “But our dinner-”

“Let’s just save it for when I get back from the decathlon trip, and you’re done with your test. Y-You should go, Soph, I can close up shop. I’ve done it before.” Normally, it would’ve taken considerably more of an effort, but deep down, Lila knew Sophie was desperate. With a touch more goading, and assuring her that she would be fine to be by herself, Sophie left the store. Lila turned her phone’s music on as loud as it could go, and began wiping down the countertops. She then locked all of the necessary cabinets and doors before spritzing a few bouquets with a bit of water. Grabbing her backpack and putting her headphones in, Lila set the store’s alarm and left, locking the doors behind her. Checking the time, she noticed it was still before eight, and her stomach let out a low growl in protest of canceling her dinner with Sophie.

Lila walked to the corner, where Delmar’s bodega was thankfully still open. Taking her headphones out of her ears, she ventured into the empty shop, the chime of the bell signaling her entrance and echoing through the space. She heard a soft mewl come from the far side of the counter, and Lila eagerly walked over to pet the large cat. “Hey, Murph,” She cooed quietly, scratching behind the cat’s ears. His head leaned into her hand, and a soft purr tickled her fingers as they moved to scratch his chin. She almost didn’t hear Mr. Delmar walk into the room from the back, but as he did so, she glanced up and smiled softly.

“Lila Landry, a pleasure as always.” Mr. Delmar grinned at the girl. She returned the greeting, and strode along the outskirts of the store, picking up some toothpaste for her dad, which she knew he was running out of. She came back up to the front counter and ordered a sandwich to go. Mr. Delmar rang her up, a stern glint in his eyes. “Little late for you to be out. Shouldn’t you be at home?”

“I had to close up shop tonight, Sophie’s got a huge test this week,” Lila answered, scratching her wrist after she handed Mr. Delmar cash. She watched him count it out and open his till, preparing to say something else to her. However, Lila beat him to the punch. “Dad’s working late in Man-Manhattan tonight, the Ritz is apparently hosting the Osborn’s for some benefit tomorrow. And he wanted to get the final touch-ups in tonight.” It was effective enough to silence Mr. Delmar’s further questions, not that he really doubted her. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, and he knew that more than most.

After handing back the correct change to Lila, Mr. Delmar stated he’d head to the back to make the sandwich she’d ordered. Leaving her to her own devices, Lila quickly pulled out her phone and began unraveling her headphones and walking slowly around the store. She’d started placing the designated earbuds in each correct ear when she happened to look outside of Mr. Delmar’s shop. Catty-corner to the deli was a bank, which was usually closed before Landry’s was on weekdays.

Usually.

This time, when Lila looked over at the bank, it was full of people, as well as money flying everywhere. It reminded her for a brief moment of one of those machines that were at arcades, where tickets would fly up in a glass cage and the person inside would have to grab as many tickets within the time allotted. Only this time, the glass cage held four men with Avengers masks, and Spider-Man, who was being thrown around by a device of the likes Lila had never seen before. It was emitting a bluish light, and held Spider-Man in a suspended state that he seemed to struggle to get out of. Lila watched as another one of the men in a mask grabbed a shotgun, and she felt her blood go cold.

“Mr. Delmar!” She called with urgency, and she heard him stop working on her sandwich. “C-call 9-1-1, there’s - there’s… I don’t kn-know.” She saw Mr. Delmar in the corner of her vision stand next to her and observe what she had been staring at. Mr. Delmar was quicker to react than she was, and immediately yanked her back away from the glass doors. He rounded the counter and reached for the telephone that was charging in the corner. Dialing the police, he looked at Lila and sharply told her to stay away from the windows while he waited to be connected.

He nodded slightly when an operator picked up his call. He stepped closer to the doors to get a better look at what was going on and relayed what was going on into the phone. “Uh - Spider-Man is fighting the Avengers in a bank on 21st Street… No, no, they’re wearing masks that look like the Avengers… Do they have - yes, they are carrying weapons… I don’t… they’re robbing an ATM and there’s money everywhere-” He didn’t even have time to yell out in surprise when a vivid purple light shone through all the windows. Lila saw the light grow brighter before it crashed into Delmar’s, shattering the glass and making several things explode. The smell of smoke and dust filled her senses before a heavy shelf to the left collapsed on top of her, sending her small frame to the floor. A flare of pain radiated in her side before a rack of gummy worms went tumbling down, the edge of it hitting her in the head and knocking her out cold.

*****

By the time the laser had shut off, Peter was already sprinting towards the deli that was currently up in flames. Leaping over a pile of rubble, Peter glanced around, urgently looking for anyone in the store. “Hey, Mr. Delmar, you in here? Is anybody in here? Hello?” He didn’t have to search much longer, for Mr. Delmar was tucked in the corner, coughing on his share of smoke. Peter rushed over to him, throwing an arm around his shoulders and hoisting him upright. Before Peter left, he noticed a ball of fur trembling under an overturned table. He swept Mr. Delmar’s cat up in his free arm, and rushed the pair out of the building.

Peter helped Mr. Delmar to the streetlamp just outside his deli, where he proceeded to cough violently as he breathed in the clean air. Peter kept trying to give him his cat when Mr. Delmar gripped onto his shoulder tightly. Due to the inability to form complete sentences while his lungs filtered out the smoke and dust, Peter couldn’t really understand what Mr. Delmar was trying to say. Leaning closer, he heard Mr. Delmar say, “Lila.”

“Lila?”

“Lila, she… closed her dad’s shop… came in for… still inside… Lila…” Peter’s blood ran cold. Staring down the street, he saw the darkened sign of Landry’s Flowers, remembering that it was merely a few doors down and realizing just what Mr. Delmar meant when he mentioned a Lila. Without hesitating, Peter shoved the cat into Mr. Delmar’s arms before heading back into the burning building.

“Delilah!” Peter shouted, coughing slightly as the smoke began to creep into his throat. His suit was clearing the building of any other people possibly present when his eyes came upon a figure on the ground. Surging forward, Peter saw her honey-colored hair before he saw her face, and noticed a large shelf covering most of her small figure. He lifted the shelf off of her, barely reading the screen in his suit explaining her head was injured due to another object hitting it, or that she had some kind of injury on her side. Once everything was clear around her, he gently shook her shoulder in an attempt to make sure she wasn’t as gravely hurt as it appeared.

After a few seconds of yelling her name and shaking her shoulder, Lila’s face scrunched up before she let out several coughs. She did her best to roll over onto her back, but she merely groaned in pain. Opening her eyes and blinking rapidly to stop them burning from the smoke, they landed on Peter in surprise. He leaned over her, subconsciously clearing the hair from her face. “Are you okay? Mr. Delmar, he - he told me you were in here. Can you stand up, Miss?”

“Lila,” She corrected, her voice laced with discomfort due to the pain taking over most of her attention. “I can’t - I can’t get up by myself. I need - it hurts.” Peter did his best to gently turn her over before he thrust an arm under her legs and another around her shoulders, carefully lifting her off the ground. It was slightly awkward, for her backpack was still on her back, but Peter managed to ignore it thanks to the multiple whimpers she let out. He tried not to cringe at the pained expression she wore, nor did he try and let the guilt settle in his stomach either. He should’ve been more careful-

“Mr. Delmar-” She started as Peter carried her out, but the man in question was already there, helping Lila stand up as Peter set her down. He stared at her for a few seconds and how she clutched her side while she coughed, but for the most part, she was intact. He stared back over at the bank, seeing the broken glass everywhere, but no sign of any of the bank robbers. Throwing his head back in exasperation, Peter sighed. He turned back around to double-check on Lila and Mr. Delmar, hearing the sirens of police cars creep closer and closer. Knowing that they would be just fine was all Peter needed before he was off, swinging down the street in the opposite direction, already calling Happy Hogan with information on the technology in the weapons used against him.

It did occur to him at some point that saving Lila Landry was the closest Peter had ever come to his two lives intersecting. The thought left him uneasy, and he was grateful to be in and out before anything could come of it. Just another close call for Peter. That is, until he came home, where his best friend found him crawling on the ceiling.

#spider-man #peter parker #spider-man fic #peter parker fic #spider-man x ofc #peter parker x ofc #mcu #mcu x ofc #marvel x ofc #slow burn #mine

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let-it-raines · 6 years

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Indirect Deposit (2/3)

Summary: It’s the oldest story in the world, isn’t it? Falling in love with your neighbor. Killian’s sure that he’s seen hundreds of books and television shows starting off that way, and he’s always thought them all to be entirely unrealistic. That is until he started getting to know Emma Swan, who just so happens to live across the hall from him, and he has absolutely fallen for her in a way that he hasn’t fallen for anyone in a long time.

It’s the oldest story in the world...until it isn’t. Because it’s not just Emma he’s fallen in love with. It’s her unborn child too, and while everyone he knows thinks he’s crazy for falling in love with a pregnant woman, he knows that he’s not. Some things in life are worth taking the risk.

Some people are worth loving. And some things about life may surprise you.

A/N: Technically my next posting date for @csmarchmadness isn’t until next week, but since the entire story is now finished, I figured you guys wouldn’t mind getting part two now. The response to part one was kind of insane, and I hope you guys like this one as well! As always, shout out to @wellhellotragic for coming up with this fantastic idea, letting me write it, and for being an all around good person :D

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Tag list: @kmomof4 @kingofmyheart14 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @artistic-writer @andiirivera @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer @ultraluckycatnd @killiarious @scientificapricot @mez86

“Hey, Anna,” she greets as she walks into the office, Sawyer strapped to her chest and a diaper bag thrown over her shoulder.

“Hi,” she squeals, getting up from behind her desk and practically rushing over to Emma so that she instinctively cups the back of Sawyer’s head out of some sort of sense of protection. “What are you doing here, lady? You’re not supposed to come back for another two weeks, but you’ve brought your baby so I’ll give you a pass.”

“She’s sleeping,” she whispers, hating to disappoint Anna. Sometimes Anna can be a bit much, but Emma really does like some of the people in her office most of the time. The only one she really talks to outside of work is Ruby, but she kind of likes it that way. She’s never been one to need a lot of friends at all times, wanting to be alone in the evenings, but being away from all of them has made her miss her coworkers a bit. It might mean that she’s going crazy or is overly tired or something, but she’s missed them. She’s just not here to actually see them. “I’m sure she’ll be up before I leave, so you can see her then, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Oh it’s fine, hon,” Anna promises, reaching up and squeezing her shoulder. “How are you feeling? Why are you here?”

“I’m feeling good. Still a little sore but good. And tired. But I’m getting used to things.” She smiles, running her hand up and down the back of Sawyer’s head to adjust her headband. “And I wanted to pick up some case files to prepare myself before coming back. I didn’t want to be overwhelmed.”

“How are you always so on top of things?”

“I don’t sleep.” The phone rings, and Emma’s a bit thankful for having an excuse to go. “I’ll let you get that, but I promise I’ll let you see her before I leave.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Emma nods her head before walking away, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as she walks through the offices and says hi to a few people who notice her. Most people don’t pay her any attention, but she can feel some of their stares on her. She works with some good people, but she also works with a hell of a lot of assholes who she knows judge her for being a mom now. They judged her for being a woman before (again, assholes), and she can practically feel their stares now. She really did come into the office so she can get some of her upcoming cases or cases that she’d put on hold for her maternity leave, but she also came in because she knows that she’ll be crucified if she’s even one step behind when she comes back.

The world has gotten a lot better, but sometimes things still suck.

Two steps forward and one step back is still one step forward.

It’s not like she’s even some kind of high-powered, fast-paced lawyer who competes with her coworkers and other firms for who can get the most business. She deals with divorces and custody settlements, which she personally finds more important than mergers, acquisitions, and the corporate law a lot of her coworkers practice, and to her clients, it is fast-paced and important.

Maybe the most important thing in the world.

Her daughter is the most important thing in the world to her, and while at one point in her life she thought that one day she’d be married and have a child with her husband, that’s not how her life has worked out. And she doesn’t bemoan this. She actually likes this.

No, she loves this.

Her daughter is hers. She’s never going to get into a legal battle over her. She’s never going to have her taken away to live with someone else. She’s hers, and it gives Emma a comfort she’s never quite felt before. She really loves her daughter and wants to protect her at all costs.

She will protect her at all costs.

It’s almost like when her body got torn apart and changed through pregnancy and giving birth this protective instinct that she’s never quite had before also became a part of her. She’s not sure if it’s instinctive, genetic, or what. Maybe it was there all along, but it’s been so long since she loved someone with such abandon that she might have hidden that part of herself away.

Not anymore.

After she’s made it through the pit of cubicles and glass walls, she finally makes it to her office, pulling her key out of her pocket and unlocking the door. It’s a bit dusty when she gets inside, a candle or plug-in desperately needed, and she knows that at some point she’s also going to have to clean up in here, dust some of her shelves off and add a few pictures of Sawyer. In the back of her mind, she knows that she could ask Killian to clean and organize for her, but she’s not going to do that. She can clean her own office and make it less…dull.

Maybe she needs a plant. Can she take care of a plant? Of course she can take care of a plant. She has a baby.

She drops her bag on the ground next to her desk, sitting down in her chair and adjusting Sawyer in her Björn, making sure that she can see her face for when she wakes up and is searching Emma out. There are stacks of paper on her desk, someone obviously having left her things despite her office smelling stale, and she’s a little scared to check her email. Her email is going to be absolutely insane.

Okay, so maybe coming into work early was not her best idea, but she wanted to get out of the apartment today. It’s a nice day, the mid-June sun shining brightly in Boston, and going on a walk with Sawyer just didn’t seem like enough…so obviously she came to work to get on top of things.

Maybe she has a problem.

Over the next hour and a half she tries shuffling through everything, having to take Sawyer out of her carrier to feed her about halfway through, and she feels pretty accomplished. Actually, she feels extremely accomplished, and it feels good. She’s not quite ready to come back to work and to leave Sawyer (she will cry if she has to think about it, and she is not ashamed), but she does like doing something different. It’s nice doing something other than puttering around the apartment talking to a baby who simply coos back. They’re cute coos but still.

Okay, so her baby is damn cute.

There’s a knock at her office door, Ruby standing at the entranceway with a cup of coffee in her hand that Emma already knows is not for her. She could totally have a cup of coffee right now.

“Look who decided to make an appearance into the world.”

“Shut up. I’m supposed to have off.”

“Oh I’m not talking about you,” Ruby sighs, walking into the room and placing her mug on Emma’s desk. “I am talking about Sawyer. You were pregnant forever, and I didn’t believe your daughter was real for awhile.” “You’ve seen pictures.”

“But not her in person. She’s cute, Emma.”

“Thank you,” she sighs, rolling in her chair and adjusting Sawyer in her arms so that Ruby can see her more. She really misses her seat that she usually keeps her in at home. It would be really useful right now. “I like to think so.”

“How old is she now?”

“Ten weeks.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’ve left me alone to rot in this office for ten weeks?”

She shrugs. “Pretty much.”

“Well, I’m thrilled to have you back, so I can have more people to talk to at lunch. I’ve been sitting with Graham and Anna, which is just, like, a clash of personalities.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like it would mix.”

“It doesn’t. I love it.” Ruby picks her mug back up and takes a sip as she backs out of her office. “I don’t have a lot of time to talk right now because I’ve got to go investigate a case for Lorenzo upstairs, but we’re going out to dinner sometime soon. I will even consider coming to your apartment to eat.”

“Such a saint.”

Ruby winks. “I know.”

After another half hour, she packs up her stuff to go home so she can work on things over the the next two weeks in her own time. She makes sure to stop by the front desk so Anna can see Sawyer while she’s awake, but she really can’t stay much longer because Sawyer needs to take a better nap in her crib. She sleeps pretty well, but Emma can tell when she doesn’t get comfortable sleep versus when she does.

It’s not fun for either of them when Sawyer doesn’t get good sleep.

It’s really not fun.

Traffic is bad on her way home, but she does eventually get there, pulling into her spot in the lot and getting Sawyer out of her car seat while she wails over the sudden stop in the car. This afternoon is just going to be a bad day, but they’ll get through it. They have so far, and she plans on getting through all of the days in the future. She’s been through some shit in her life, and a crying baby is not going to bring her down.

Today.

There have been days when she cries just as much. Being a mom is hard. Rewarding but hard.

After a few hours, Emma decides that the nap simply isn’t happening, so she goes through their routine of feeding, changing, tummy time, and bath time all the while telling stories and just letting Sawyer hear her voice. It’s comforting for her in the same way that she hopes it’s comforting to Sawyer, and she just likes talking to her kid about whatever she wants to talk to her kid about.

Finally, she gets her to go down, hoping that she sleeps through most of the night, and there’s blessed quiet through the apartment as she drinks a glass of water standing in her kitchen. And it’s the exact moment that she hears the lock in her door twisting, the wood opening in its frame, and Killian appearing dressed in his favorite sweatpants and Henley, his feet only covered in socks.

It’s unfair how attractive the Henley is. It’s black, and he always wears it unbuttoned with the sleeves pushed up so she can see the dark hair on his forearms and the way that the muscles flex there whenever he’s doing anything. And the fact that he’s wearing gray sweatpants doesn’t really help anything either. It certainly doesn’t hide anything.

She’s always known the guy was attractive. That’s never been a question in her mind, and while she doesn’t think she’s ever been one of those women who just fawn over men, she’d be crazy to admit that he doesn’t do something to her. She doesn’t like admitting to it, doesn’t like admitting that she’s attracted to him, and what she really doesn’t like admitting is the fact that she has some pretty intense feelings for him. High school, first love, intense feelings.

Or just regular feelings that for a long time she attributed to her pregnancy hormones. For almost her entire second trimester, she almost just asked him to sleep with her several times a night just because she so desperately needed something. It’s been a long time since she’s had sex, and having Killian be in her life doesn’t exactly help that.

So she’s known that she’s physically attracted to him, but emotionally, that was a little harder to accept. And she’s still not totally convinced on what exactly she’s feeling. Relationships are hard for her. Now, as an adult who likes to think she’s got an okay grasp on her emotions, she knows that it began not having parents that were together and a dad who was happy but who pretty much only had her. He dated, but she was never under any impression that she and his job weren’t the two most important things in her life. Sometimes she worries about how this might affect Sawyer when it comes to her being a single mom, but she’s hoping that she has some time to figure it all out. And hopefully Sawyer won’t have exes who screw her over.

It’s not…she loved Neal so fiercely as a teenager and a young adult, and she refused to accept that her dad was right in saying that Neal could be emotionally manipulative of her, never letting her make her own decisions. Hell, she almost dropped out of college for him because he wanted to move to follow some dream to be a musician when he can’t even sing, and to this day, she still can’t believe that she even considered that. Like, she wants to slap herself upside the head for considering that, for not allowing her own voice and thoughts to be heard. And everyone after him was kind of the same with different variations. They were nice at first, but things just seemed to go wrong along the way. Not every one of them were tragic. Some simply ended. Graham is one of those, and while she never wants to date him again, she still feels fondness for him, especially since they still work together.

But then her dad died, and love seemed a little less grand. It just seemed hard and heartbreaking, and things likely became twisted in her mind. She’s been untwisting them over the past few years, though. She’s learning that not all pain is bad pain, and not all love is going to end in heartbreak. She knows that there are going to be times when she and Sawyer don’t get along, when she wonders how the hell she has such a frustrating kid, but the love isn’t going to stop.

Ever.

And maybe one day she’ll fully open herself up to loving someone else again, to allowing someone to love her, but right now she’s a little terrified to do that. She and Killian are just friends, or so she thinks. Sometimes he looks at her with just this…longing in his eyes, and she thinks she might have the same in hers. But it’s so complicated when it comes to him because she’s allowed herself to rely on him in a way that she hasn’t truly relied on anyone in years, and she knows that evolving their relationship to a romantic one wouldn’t just shift things between them, it would shift things between he and Sawyer as well. If he leaves, it doesn’t just change her life, it changes her daughter’s too. Sawyer may not remember him now, but she’ll remember when she’s older if he’s still around.

She won’t let someone leave her daughter because of something she’s done.

Not that she thinks Killian would. While she’s not sure if he has feelings for her, she knows that he loves her daughter. He may love her daughter as much as he loves Roland or Liam, and that terrifies her a bit. It fills her with joy, but it also terrifies her. He’s a good guy with a big heart, even in the moments where she sees flashes of darkness and insecurity that she knows comes from his upbringing and his relationships. She understands him in the same way that he understands her, and it’s that very thing that gives her the comfort that maybe he won’t leave.

It doesn’t mean she thinks she’s ready for something more, but maybe one day the thought won’t shake her to her core. Maybe she simply needs a little more time.

Right now, she simply wants to focus on her daughter and being a good mom, a good lawyer, and hopefully a good friend to Killian. He’s done a lot for her, and while she knows that he didn’t do it for anything in return, he doesn’t deserve for her to treat him like crap. The man regularly eats ice cream with her at two in the morning and lets her talk about nothing for hours on end. It doesn’t seem like much, but it’s a lot to her.

And it’s not the only thing he does for her, but right now she’s kind of thinking about ice cream. She’s really been liking ice cream over the past few months, and the summer heat doesn’t help.

“Hello, darling,” Killian greets, walking over to her in the kitchen and quickly brushing his lips across her cheek, gooseflesh rising on her skin. “How was your mini day back at work?”

“Tiring,” she sighs, letting her shoulders slump. “And Sawyer was so good while we were there, but she had a meltdown for the rest of the evening.”

She watches as he grabs a diet coke out of her fridge, the one that he decided needed organizing last week before six in the morning, before he settles down on top of her countertop, having to adjust himself until he’s comfortable. She usually loves to sit on countertops, but it hasn’t been super comfortable lately. She’s not exactly sure why she ever thought it was.

“Is she asleep now?” he asks, popping open the tab.

“Yeah, but you can see her when she wakes up if you stay that long since I know you’re only really here for her.”

“Hey,” he groans, his lips pressing together and morphing into a smile that does something to her no matter how much she doesn’t want to let her do something to her, “that is only partially true. I am quite fond of her mother too even when she’s accusing me of only being here for the baby.”

“How sweet of you.”

“I try.”

“How was your day?” she asks, moving around the counter and sitting down on the barstool. She’s starving, really needs to eat dinner, but she’s not quite sure what Killian is going to make. Maybe she can make something. Maybe they should just eat pizza even though she’s trying to watch what she eats, ice cream not included. “I didn’t hear from you all day.”

“Aye, sorry about that, love. Teaching a full load over the summer is kind of killing me because we meet in class every day.” “How hard it must be to go to work five days a week. That’s never happened in the history of the world.”

He rolls his eyes and scratches behind his hear, but he doesn’t protest. “Okay, so true, but I’m used to a bit of flexibility and long breaks. I don’t mind the money though. I quite like the money, actually, and it’s much better than having to work some odd job selling insurance for three months just to make sure I can keep money in my savings for the future.”

“Seems responsible.”

“Well, between you and Liam, I’ve definitely gotten my shit together on that front.”

“And I will take my thank you in the form of dinner. I know we’re doing healthy, but I kind of want some Chinese food. I wanted ice cream earlier and then pizza, but now I’m kind of thinking Chinese.”

“Bloody hell. It’s like we’re going through your third trimester all over again.”

“I’m not really appreciating you tonight, so you and your newly put together finances can pay for the Chinese. I want extra egg rolls.”

Killian pulls out his phone. “I know, Swan.”

They eat dinner, talking about the rest of their days before falling into watching TV and falling into their normal debate and conversation about the characters on their screens and how the writers could have changed things. They’re into Game of Thrones right now, even if Killian was wary of watching it with her since she hasn’t read the books, she doesn’t seem him complaining.

Okay, so he complains about some of the differences between the book and the show, but that’s pretty tame for him. They’re both nerds. They just show it in different ways.

Killian is much more obvious about it all, while she’s more reserved, only letting bits peek through out of self-preservation, but it’s nice to have someone who’s not going to judge her for enjoying the feeling she gets when she checks off all of her items on her to-do list and gets all of her files perfectly organized while also really like Star Wars. How can you not like Star Wars?

“Do you want to go to Rob’s for lunch on Saturday? I think we’re going to go to Rol’s football game first, but I figured you wouldn’t want to take Sawyer out in the heat for that long.”

“That sounds good,” she mumbles while holding a cold egg roll to her mouth. “And yeah, we can join you guys at his apartment afterward. I haven’t seen them for weeks. I miss them.”

“Roland misses you. I’m not sure if Robin does, but I know Roland does.”

“I’m both insulted and flattered. I’ve got to text Ruby and set up dinner sometime. I may need your help.”

“Babysitting?”

“Cooking,” she laughs, turning her head to face him. “She might come over here. Or maybe I’ll have you babysit. I don’t know. I don’t want to leave Sawyer until I absolutely have to.”

“I know, love. It might be easier for you to do an hour or two gone, though, before you go back to work. I mean, obviously up to you, but it’s an idea.” “I hate how much sense that makes.”

“I’m a smart man.”

“So you keep telling me.” “And one day, maybe you’ll believe me.”

-/-

The entire summer is sweltering, but she spends it running between an office that has the air conditioning turned up far too high and an apartment that seems to never get cool enough despite her air conditioning working perfectly fine. Honestly, sometimes going outside is more pleasant than staying in, especially down by the harbor or the Charles where there’s a breeze flowing off the water and keeping she and Sawyer cool when she takes her out for walks in the afternoons after work. Getting back into working was difficult, even with how much she tried to prepare for it, but she thinks she’s gotten the hang of it. Leaving Sawyer at daycare is another story, but there are days when it’s nice to not be in charge of another human being for a few hours.

Or at least not be in charge of another human being’s continued life. Being in charge of a divorce is different.

Still, it’s nice to be an adult not tethered to a baby sometimes, even if she does so crave days where she gets to go home and watch Sawyer develop with the way the she can roll a bit or prop herself up as she reaches for toys. Plus, she’s got the cutest little laugh that brings Emma such joy that she feels like she hasn’t experienced in a long time.

She’s happy. She’s happy with her entire life, and while sometimes she does wish that her dad could be here to see his granddaughter who she thinks has his eyes for how blue they are, she’s perfectly content and thrilled with how her life is right now. Honestly, it might be better than it has been in a long time. She has her family, and she’s really grown to love her close group of friends, allowing them into her life a little more than she used to.

Which is exactly why she’s letting Anna watch her daughter as she gets dressed to go to a Red Sox game and out to dinner with Killian who has convinced her that she needs to go out and do something fun for herself. She couldn’t think of anything, didn’t feel like putting in the effort of figuring things out, so she went with what everyone in Boston does when they need to do something fun. It’s cliché, and neither of them really even watch baseball, but it’s something to do.

Plus, she’s definitely going to chow down on junk food at the game before they find something to eat for dinner. Really, she’s doing this for the food and some time on her own that’s not work. If getting to spend time with Killian happens to be a part of this, well, she’s not going to complain.

Not at all.

He’s her best friend, and over this summer, she’s definitely decided that having to throw up in his bathroom was actually a good thing.

A really good thing.

And maybe on some days she feels like she’s just going to grab Killian by the shirt collar, pull him to her, and kiss the holy hell out of him. She hasn’t done that yet, but she really wants to, even more than she used to.

Going on what’s basically a date right now doesn’t help, especially since Anna is convinced that she and Killian are made for each other after she apparently assumed that he was Sawyer’s father all the way back at the baby shower. That would be wild, but it’s just not true.

It’d be impossible.

“Alright, baby,” she sighs, leaning down and kissing Sawyer’s forehead right at her dark hair that’s been turning a little more brown lately. It still looks black, but she sees hint of brown in it sometimes under certain lights. “Momma is going to be back later tonight. Be good for Anna.” She squeezes Sawyer’s fingers before she looks up at Anna. “Okay, so you know where everything is? You know how to heat up a bottle? That you can call me if you need something? Seriously. Call for anything.”

“I know, Emma,” Anna chuckles, bouncing Sawyer in her arms while smiling at Emma. “I watch my sister’s kids all of the time. You know this. It’s literally why you’re letting me watch her.”

“I’m letting you watch her because I trust you and because I like you more than I like the people at her daycare.”

“And because you wanted to go on a date.” “It’s not a date.” “It’s totally a date.” Anna winks at her before looking down at Sawyer and cooing, “Your mommy is going on a date. She just doesn’t realize it.”

“This is what I get for becoming friends with you outside of the office.” “Please, I am great. But seriously. I know you’re just going to a baseball game, but you look hot, mama. And if you want to get a hotel or stay in Killian’s apartment for a few extra hours, let me know. I will be happy to stay so you can get it on.” “Anna,” she chuckles, reaching her hand out and gently hitting her on the shoulder while her stomach moves with laughter, “I’m not using you so I can have sex.”

“But you could. It would be totally worth it.”

“We are so not talking about this right now.” “But we’ll talk about it afterwards when you’re regretting coming back here too early and not actually coming.”

Anna smirks, moving her brows a bit in a way that reminds her of Killian, and she can’t help but shake her head as she kisses Sawyer’s forehead again before she’s grabbing her purse, stopping by the front door to check her lipstick in the mirror and completely ignoring Anna’s comments about how she really won’t be mad if Emma’s back later than she’s supposed to be.

Who knew that Anna would be as invested in her sex life as Ruby is?

She opens her door only to run right into Killian, putting her hands against his chest while catching her feet and making sure she doesn’t fall back while Killian’s hands find her waist, fingers grabbing at the skin just above her shorts and under her blouse. When she looks up at him, his eyes are blown wide, the blue somehow seeming more familiar than usual as he continuously blinks while his lips gape open.

“Hi,” she laughs, stretching out her hands into his t-shirt, feeling his heart beat a steady rhythm under her palms. “I was just going to – ”

“Come to my apartment?”

“Yeah. I should have known you’d get here before I could get there.”

“Yeah, you should have,” he laughs, squeezing her hips before releasing them, his lips stretched into a smile that stretches across his entire face. “Hello, Anna. Nice to see you.”

Anna pretty much looks like the cat who ate the canary right now, and Emma can feel the blush rising in her cheeks right now. Why is blush rising in her cheeks? How does she make it stop? Anna’s definitely gotten into her head, not that the thoughts weren’t there before. But now they’re really there.

“Hi, Killian. You want to say bye to the kid before you guys go?”

“Of course. I’ve got to say bye to my little lady.” He beams, walking over to Anna and taking Sawyer out of her arms only for Sawyer to absolutely light up with joy over seeing with Killian. She recognizes him so easily now, usually giggling and reaching out for him when he comes over or when they go out, and it makes her smile. He’s so good with her that it’s almost shocking. As terrifying as it is for someone else to love her daughter, it’s also wonderful. Of anything, she’s sure of that now after Killian being so good to her for so long. “Hey, little love,” he sighs, running his hands over her arms and kissing her forehead. “Thank you for letting me take Mummy out today. I promise I shall return her to you before ten.”

“Or later,” Anna adds in, and Emma almost hits her head against the door.

“Or later,” Killian laughs, kissing Sawyer again before handing her back to Anna. “Thanks for watching her, love.”

“It is literally no problem. Now go you two. Have fun. Catch a ball. Get on the jumbotron. Do whatever you do at baseball games.”

“Yeah, so I’m taking you to a baseball game someday,” Emma laughs as she walks out the door, Killian’s hand ghosting over the small of her back as they leave. “Be home tonight.” “The morning is fine too.”

“Love,” Killian chuckles, closing her door behind them, “if I didn’t know better, I think Anna is going to steal all of your stuff for how much she wants you gone.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about her.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. We’ve got to go to a baseball game, where I think we’re supposed to watch baseball.”

“Shut up. I know that you at least know how baseball works.”

“I believe there’s a ball. And a bat. And there’s definitely a lot of rounding the bases in what is unfortunately not a sexual way.”

His description was totally satirical, but it’s definitely exactly what it’s like. There is a ball, a bat, and rounding the bases in a non-sexual way, but she knew all of that. It’s not like she’s been living under a rock. She just doesn’t really like sports too much. Today, though, she likes sports. Killian feeds her a live commentary of the game the entire time, making up backstories for each player that she realizes about halfway through are the backstories for the characters out of a creative writing paper from one of his students that he let her read last month when he was grading it and completely enthralled in how good it was. He’s obviously been reading it again since then, and she wouldn’t be surprised if she’s spending extra time mentoring the kid.

She really was unsure of how she was going to like today, even if she was excited for it, but having the sun beat down on her legs and a beer bottle in her hand while everyone seems so happy around them…well, it’s fantastic. She kind of feels like she used to feel, getting out and getting to do things without having to find a babysitter or worry about needing to pump her breasts, and it’s nice to know that she can still do things for herself. She doesn’t think being a parent should mean sacrificing who you are as an individual and giving up the things you love. It involves a lot of sacrifices, but with some things, you have to stand your ground.

Killian’s arm wraps around her shoulder, fingers playing with the strap on her shirt, and she doesn’t even think that he knows that he’s doing it as he practically takes her top off of her while they’re watching this game. His touch is electric, warmer than the sun even though that’s physically impossible, and her entire body is prickling with desire and pleasure and…something.

Want, maybe.

Twisting her head to the side, she looks at Killian and the way the sunlight brings out the ginger in his beard that only really shines through when he’s let his beard grow a little too long. His skin has tanned this summer, and it somehow makes his eyes bluer than they usually are, lighter somehow. She’s really obsessed with his eyes. He’s so beautiful, and when he turns his head to face her, their lips only inches apart, she goes for it.

Like, really goes for it.

Before she can think it through, her lips are pressing against his, and she can feel it through her entire body. He’s soft and warm, and as his lips begin to move with hers instead of staying immobile, she can taste the salt from the popcorn he was eating earlier. She can also feel his scruff brushing against her skin, but honestly, besides how good it feels, it just feels right. She’s fought her feelings for Killian for so long, even if she has let up recently, but it still feels like she’s finally accepting her feelings. It feels like she’s finally accepting him.

It feels like something she should have done a long time ago.

In the spirit of baseball and all that, it feels like she’s sliding home.

“Swan,” Killian breathes when they pull back, the hoarseness in his voice affecting her nearly as much as the kiss did, “that was – ”

“Yeah,” she sighs, smiling to the point where she can feel Killian’s smile against hers, “that was good.”

“That was bloody fucking brilliant.”

She barks out a laugh, slanting her lips over his again, and Killian’s hands immediately find their way into her hair, his fingers tugging at the strands that send shivers down her spine. Yeah, this definitely is bloody fucking brilliant.

“So,” Killian sighs, pulling back from her and wrapping his arm around her shoulder again, fingers moving even more frantically than before, “I’m thinking we have three options.” “Why do we need options?”

“Just listen. So we have three options. One, we talk about the fact that we just kissed. Two, we continue to watch this game. Or three, we get the hell out of here and go make out somewhere where people won’t stare at us like people around us were just staring.”

“Option three,” she laughs, leaning down to gather her things. “definitely option three.”

-/-

She’s honestly not sure how she’s supposed to go about dating Killian, but like what she’s discovered in her year of knowing him outside of simply being neighbors, she simply has to let things be. That is pretty much impossible for her, but he helps a lot by making things as comfortable as possible. After the baseball game back in August, they’d gone and grabbed dinner at a café and talked. She hadn’t wanted to, really hadn’t wanted to, but Killian had insisted. She kind of thought maybe he was planning on taking her back to his apartment like Anna had teased her about when he gave her those three options, but no, he went with option one and made her talk about how she was feeling despite the fact that she just wanted to...well, she wanted to sleep with him even though she knew that was not her smartest option.

He made her think through things, which was definitely a mistake on his part. She’d started freaking out, questioning why she would kiss him, but he had somehow reassured her. He’s always reassuring her of things, and honestly, getting to see the smile on his face, getting to see how much he truly wanted to be with her, she knew that she couldn’t break his heart. Not when she wanted exactly the same things as him. So they’d talked, fleshed some more things out, and he’d taken her home, kissing her goodnight outside of her front door and then walking back to his apartment with a goofy grin on his face and his brows moving all across his forehead. She’s pretty sure he tripped over the threshold of his door, and she simply stood there with her bottom lip between her teeth as a giggle rumbled in her stomach.

Anna had freaked out.

And now that she’s been dating Killian for two months, she’s realizing that it’s pretty much the same as it was before. Yeah, so now he kisses the holy hell out of her and shows a lot more physical affection, but emotionally, it’s nearly the same. It’s insane to her how blind she was, how much she thought that they were simply friends, how much she convinced herself of that, and how much things changed with one kiss at a baseball game with an annoyed older man sitting behind them talking about how young people are far too sexual today.

They had literally kissed. It’s not like they were going at it in public. They don’t even sleep together at home. She’s ready for a lot of things, but she’s not ready for that despite the actual, physical ache that she felt after their first kiss. She’s just not ready now that she’s had time to calm down. Maybe soon, but a part of her is still scared that right after she sleeps with Killian, he’ll no longer be interested in her. And she knows that it’s not true. There’s no way it’s true. They’re too good of friends for that, and he loves Sawyer far too much.

And she thinks that he loves her.

She thinks that she loves him.

She’s about ninety nine percent of the way there, but math has never exactly been her strong suit.

It’s terrifying. Love is freaking terrifying. Why does no one ever say that when you’re young? They tell you about all of the good things, but how terrifying and heartbreaking things can be are conveniently left out until you experience it yourself.

“Alright, baby girl,” she sighs, propping Sawyer up on her hip while she applies mascara to her lashes, “you have got to let mommy get ready because we have people coming over to celebrate me getting old. Yeah, your mommy is getting old.”

When she’s finished coating her lashes with mascara, she looks down at Sawyer who is messing with the lace on Emma’s bra, and she absolutely cannot get over how adorable this kid is. She’s really grown so much lately, and Emma absolutely cannot believe that she’s nearly seven months old. How can her baby be that old? She’s got her own little personality, and she’s an absolute spitfire who knows what she wants. She really loves hanging out on her playmat, but there’s nothing she loves more than when Emma blows raspberries on her stomach. She absolutely giggles, and it makes Emma’s heart swell more than anything in the world.

She really loves being a mom, and she’s so incredibly thankful that she’s got her best girl to spend her life with. It’s more than she thought it would be.

“We also have to get you dressed, Sawyer. You get to stay up a little late tonight too, and you’re going to have people fawning over you because you’re so dang cute.”

Sawyer giggles as Emma adjusts her on her hip and walks out of the bathroom to her nursery across the hall, finding the romper and little floral sweater that Killian had bought her next week. He’s always coming over with things that he’s bought for Sawyer, and she swears that she has enough clothes to last her until Sawyer is two. And she’s pretty sure that Killian will just keep buying things. She tells him he doesn’t have to, that he should save his money that he’s working so hard for, but it’s like he doesn’t listen when it comes to doing things for Sawyer.

“You look just beautiful,” she laughs, wrapping a headband around her head and pushing back the black hair on her head that’s starting to grow back in after it fell out.

“So does her mum, even though that outfit is definitely not party appropriate.”

“Holy shi – oot,” she gasps, her heart pounding wildly within her chest while she makes sure Sawyer doesn’t roll off the changing table. That would be a disaster. “Babe, you cannot scare me like that.”

He simply shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest so his biceps bulge under the navy material of his sweater. “I figured you heard me come in.”

“I definitely didn’t if the way my heart is beating right now is any indication,” she laughs, picking Sawyer up who is absolutely squealing to go see Killian, and it’s only when she hands her over that she realizes what Killian was talking about. She’s in her underwear…and Killian is here. Has Killian ever seen her this dressed down? Was he staring at her stomach? Her boobs? Her ass? Does he even care? Of course he cares. He’s a man. She needs to breathe. And to get dressed. Getting dressed would be good. “I’m just going to – ”

“Hey,” he sighs, adjusting Sawyer on his hip while she stares up at him, her small hands grasping at his shirt, “Swan, I didn’t mean to intrude or make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh I’m not. I’m just – ” She motions down her body, trying to will the heat she feels from knowing Killian’s gaze is on her. Okay, so maybe she’s feeling kind of ready to sleep with him, especially as she pictures what he looks like under the sweater and jeans…nope, nope, nope. She can’t go down that road right now.

“You’re beautiful,” he finishes for her, reaching his free arm out and tugging her into his side before he brushes his lips against her temple. Her eyes flutter closed, reveling in this moment. “And if it were just the three of us here tonight, I feel like we could definitely reconsider your outfit choice so that this could stay on.”

“Oh yeah?” she questions, feeling a bit bolder.

“Most definitely. I’m rather fond of lace, and I’m sure it would look fantastic with the plaid on my boxers.”

“I feel like those wouldn’t really mix.”

“I feel like they would.”

“So are you talking about…”

“A pajama party, darling,” Killian deadpans, looking at her with full seriousness as he begins to bounce Sawyer on his hip so she won’t get fussy. He’s got this weird way to know when she’s going to get fussy before she even does. Sometimes he knows better than her, which is crazy. “You, me, and the munchkin. We’ll wear our best sleeping attire, and have a personal little party.”

“Oh,” she sighs, a mixture of excitement and disappointment filling her all at once. “That sounds nice.”

“But if you want to have an adult pajama party, love, all you have to do is ask.” He winks before unwrapping his arm. “Now go get dressed. You’ve got a birthday to celebrate.” “I know, I know. Why didn’t we have a party for you? I’m going to do that next year, so I’m not the only one to suffer.”

“We didn’t have a party for me because you had just started work back and were exhausted, and I was fine watching Sawyer while you slept. Now get dressed, darling.”

He gently pushes her away, and no part of her misses how he grabbed her ass while doing it. He’s not even sly, and when she looks back at him, he’s talking to Sawyer like he wasn’t just feeling up her mom. He throws her a subtle wink, though, and she walks back into her bedroom with a smile on her face as she shakes her head.

-/-

“Oh come on,” Ruby laughs, everyone in the living room looking at her as she speaks, “you guys are so boring.” “I’m not boring,” Emma protests, adjusting her dress as scoots back on Killian’s thighs ignoring the slight hiss that he lets out. She pats his leg, but she’s pretty sure that only makes things worse for him. “I just don’t think that we need to move from my very comfortable, nice apartment to go down to O’Leary’s. I have drinks here.”

“You have some wine and an entire freezer full of breast milk.”

“Yeah, the breast milk is off limits.” “Wasn’t even thinking about it,” Graham chuckles, flashing her a sweet smile that only makes her feel a little guilty having him sit here watching her with a baby and a boyfriend when she knows he still wants to date her. It’s just…it’s not going to happen again, and she likes him as a friend. She shouldn’t feel guilty that it didn’t work out with them romantically.

“You have some rum and whiskey, love,” Killian adds in, his warm hands splaying across her stomach as he literally picks her up off of his lap and adjusts her. She can feel his arousal through his jeans, and yeah, she definitely should have sat on the floor or something to keep him from losing his mind. Maybe to keep her from losing her mind too. “And there’s beer in my apartment. I can guarantee you it’s all better stuff than Will serves down at O’Leary’s.”

“And Emma has Sawyer,” Anna points out while she holds her daughter who is watching everyone in the room with rapt fascination. She really needs to be put down, but she doesn’t seem to be too tired yet. “So unless we want to go full on Sweet Home Alabama and take a baby to a bar, we can celebrate here.”

“I think the baby in a bar is a good route.”

“I can personally attest to the fact that a baby in a bar is not a good idea,” Robin chuckles from his spot on the couch while still cutting up his cake. Ruby brought a cake from her grandmother’s restaurant, and it’s absolutely delicious. She could pretty much melt in the chocolate.

“Hold up, mate. You took Roland to a bar?”

“For five minutes, I swear. And then five minutes turned into about two hours. Marian was so pissed at me. I swear her entire face turned red enough to be a tomato.”

“But your kid is still alive right?”

“Ruby.”

“Shut up, Graham. I’m asking important questions.” Robin chuckles under his breath, sticking his fork in his mouth. “Yes, Roland is still alive and is safely at home with his sitter.”

“See, Ems, we could totally take Sawyer to a bar.”

“No,” she laughs, rolling her eyes while Killian’s fingers move in circles over her stomach and his scruff brushes the skin at her neck, making her entire body tingle while he kisses her collarbone, “we’re not going to a bar, but we are going to eat all of this food so I’m not left with it. Plus, my couch is far more comfortable than any seat at O’Leary’s.”

Ruby literally groans, her entire body sinking into the cushions. “You are so old.” “That’s why we’re here.”

Sawyer starts to fuss, the cries welling up, and when Emma gets up to go grab her, Killian tugs her back to her, kissing her neck before whispering in her ear. “Darling, I suggest you don’t get up or everyone in this room is going to know more about me than even you know about me.”

She giggles, flat out giggles, before leaning back into his embrace and kissing his cheek. “Anna, can you bring her to me before she loses her mind?”

“Sure, hon,” Anna sighs, walking over to her and handing her Sawyer, who almost immediately calms down even if Emma can see her bottom lip trembling. She’s tired, exhausted probably, and she really needs to put her to bed. “Is she hungry?”

“Tired. She’s usually asleep right now. You want to go to bed, baby?”

“I can take her,” Killian says behind her, and she raises her brow before glancing down at his lap. He shrugs, just the smallest of things, and she nods her head. Their silent communication has gotten a lot better recently, and it’s kind of nice to have someone who can understand her even when she’s not speaking. “And that way you can enjoy everyone even if Ruby’s being obnoxious over needing to go to a bar.”

“You are new here, Jones. Watch yourself.”

“I have been here for over a year, Lucas,” Killian grits out, and she wonders why he’s getting frustrated with Ruby when he usually loves spending time with all of them. Maybe tonight just isn’t everybody’s night. “I’m going to go put Sawyer to bed.”

Emma gets up from his lap and Killian quickly follows, taking Sawyer out of her arms and walking down the hall and out of the room. She’s got no idea what kind of switch just flipped in him, but she knows that they’ll have to talk about it later. She’s not necessarily looking forward to talking through what he him angry, but she’d rather do it than let him get all dark and broody.

She hates when he’s dark and broody.

“Ruby,” she sighs, tearing her eyes away from the hallway to look over at Ruby, “you have to be nice.” “He’s a grown man. He can take some teasing.” “We all can, but that doesn’t mean everyone’s always in the mood for it.”

“What did I even say?”

“You said – you know what? It doesn’t even matter. Does anyone want something else to eat or drink? Anna why don’t you find something for us to watch?”

“Sure, Ems. I’ll find something.”

She rises from her chair and gets up to wander the few feet into the kitchen. This is really not how she wanted her night to go. Everyone had insisted that she do something, and she only agreed because she thought it would be perfectly fine for everyone to spend the night at home just relaxing. No, it’s not going out to a bar or to a concert, but that doesn’t make how she’s choosing to spend her day inherently bad. She should be able to do whatever the hell she wants, but apparently everyone’s going to be in a pissy mood.

She’s already got one baby. She doesn’t need others.

Grabbing a glass out of the cabinet, she fills it with wine. She’ll pump and dump or whatever, but she honestly needs something to relieve some of the tension she suddenly feels. And she really needs some time alone to try to lessen the irritation that’s spreading across her skin in the form of heated goosebumps. So of course that means Graham followed her in here while she hears everyone else arguing about what to watch a few feet away.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, taking a sip of her drink and settling her back against the counter so the granite digs into her skin, “I think it might be time for me to go to bed too. You think everyone will be okay having my birthday party without me?”

“Well, I think it would be quite the sad party without the guest of honor.”

She motions out at the living room. “It’s sad now.” He flashes her a grin. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Ruby hates everything, and I have zero idea what’s up with that. Anna is about to go into overdrive trying to make things positive, especially with Kris coming over soon, you and Rob are just kind of…watching all of the craziness unfold, and Killian is pissed off for some reason. And him being pissed off probably means that Sawyer is not going to go down easily because it’s like she has this sixth sense and mimics our emotions.”

“I’m sorry, but if it makes you feel better, I don’t hear any crying. I think Killian’s got a pretty good handle at the dad thing.”

“Yeah, I know,” she sighs, letting her eyes flutter closes again, trying to think herself down only to realize what exactly Graham just said. It’s not the first time that something like this has happened, and she’s learned that it’s simply easier to not try to correct people. She’s just a little confused as to why Graham thinks this when…oh. Well, it’s not like she’s exactly told a lot of people how exactly Sawyer was conceived. It’s none of their business, and only Killian knows. But she kind of thought everyone knew she and Killian were a new thing. There’s no way in hell he’d be able to be the father of her child, even if she swears Sawyer looks more like Killian than her.

It’s really weird.

“Why don’t you go try to be the voice of reason in there? I think I’m going to check to make sure that Sawyer is okay.”

She nods to Graham before putting her glass down, realizing she’s only taken the tiniest sip, and this night really, truly isn’t going to plan. Maybe she will just go sit in the nursery and fall asleep in the rocking chair to avoid everyone. She wants to avoid everyone.

When she walks in the room, she closes the door as silently as she can behind her only to be stopped in her tracks at the sight in front of her. Killian’s sitting in the rocking chair fast asleep with a wide awake Sawyer curled up on his chest. She gurgles when she sees Emma, and Killian practically jumps out of the seat, his eyes blowing wide while his arms squeeze around Sawyer, startling her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she soothes, stepping closer to them and taking Sawyer out of Killian’s arms so she can walk her around the room, “it’s just momma. There’s nothing to be scared about. It’s just momma. Yeah, it’s just momma.”

“I’m sorry, Swan. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I sat down to rock her and it just…it happened.” “It’s fine,” she promises, whispering soothing words in Sawyer’s ears before she puts her down in the crib, her eyelids heavy as they start to close. She’s got to be exhausted. “You want to tell me what’s up with you?” “Nothing.” “Killian.” She walks over to him and settles herself into his lap again, figuring that his erection has likely gone away by now, and she assumes they’re about to have a talk anyways. “You’re not supposed to lie to me. Same team, remember?”

“Aye, same team,” he sighs, leaning forward and softly brushing his lips over hers. He tastes like the cake, and that’s definitely not the only reason that she dips back in to kiss him one more time before she’s staring at the blue eyes that she’s really come to love. How could she not? “I guess…bloody hell, I don’t know. I didn’t love that Ruby basically told me that I don’t belong after pretty much bashing your choice of how to spend your birthday all night. It all rubbed me the wrong way.”

“Me too.” She reaches up and cups his cheeks, running her palms from his temple to his jaw and making sure that he looks at her when she speaks. He needs to hear this. “You belong, Killian. You are my best friend out of anyone on this planet, and you being in my life for the shortest amount of time changes absolutely nothing. I love you.”

And she says it. Just like that. There’s no hesitation, no weariness. It just…happens. She wasn’t even sure that she felt that way earlier today, but apparently she does. She definitely does. She loves him. Oh damn, she loves him.

She hears Killian giggle, actually giggle, and it’s what gets her to actually look back at him and to look at the way that he’s got water in his eyes, only making them bluer. How is that possible too?

“I love you,” he says on a soft breath, his lips close enough to hers that they actually touch with each breath. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He kisses her with each uttering of the phrase, and she actually feels her heart rearrange itself in her chest. How in the world has she found someone who loves her, who wants her, who lets her be just who she is without reservations? The anger that was spreading across her skin earlier is replaced by goosebumps of the best kind, and she’s got just this…she’s happy.

“So happy birthday to me, I guess?”

“Happy birthday, my love.”

-/-

“Killian,” she giggles, moving her body as far away from his as she can with the way that he’s got his arms wrapped around her back, pulling her closer to him even as she squirms. “Killian, I’m serious. I need to get up and get ready for work before she gets up.”

“I’ll take care of her,” he promises, trailing his lips over her shoulder and against her collarbone in a way that he freaking knows makes her shiver and lose her mind. He’s doing it on purpose. He’s teasing her, and she’s going to be late for work. With the way she feels right now, she almost wants to give into him. Almost. “Because you have been gone at that blasted conference for a week, and I missed you.”

“You missed having sex with me.”

He raises a brow, the most incredulous look on his face, and all she can do is bury her head in his chest, rubbing her face into the soft hair that resides there. “I mean, obviously I did, but I did miss you for other reasons.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You should,” he sighs, rolling them over in bed until she’s resting on top of his chest with her head propped up on her crossed arms, “because I missed getting to see this gorgeous face in the mornings, especially when your hair looks like it does right now. I missed getting into arguments with you over what we want to eat or who’s going to do the dishes. I missed being lazy with you. And I definitely missed you when I was putting my best girl to bed. Bath time was rough without mummy.”

“These are all weird things to miss.” “You caught me on short notice. I had a whole list, but I don’t think it really matters since you’re now here, safe and sound from New York.”

“This is true.” She dips her head and presses her lips on Killian’s chest, right where she can hear his heart beating. “I missed you too. Thank you so much for watching Sawyer for that long. I know it’s not exactly on the list of boyfriend responsibilities.”

“Hey now,” he sighs, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears and resting his palm there so that she tilts her head to the side and brushes a gentle kiss on the skin, “that is something I will never complain about. You have a daughter, love, and that’s a part of you. I knew that from the beginning, and even if I didn’t, it wouldn’t be a problem. I love Sawyer just as much as I love you, if not more.” “How was that sweet and insulting all at once?” “I’m a man of many talents.”

“That you are.” She leans down to brush a kiss against his chest again before she rolls off of him, ignoring the erection that was pressing against her thigh. “I’ve got to go get ready for work, but I don’t think I’d object to you making breakfast. Just keep the monitor with you, okay?” “I’m not an amateur.”

“Eh, that’s debatable.”

“Is it now?”

“I mean,” she sighs, shrugging her shoulders as she stands at the end of the bed, “I can think of a few things you can work on.”

He raises both of his eyebrows at that, and she already knows that he’s going to protest whatever she says. She could say that he’s bad at astrophysics – and he is – but he’d say he was good. “Would you care to enlighten me, my darling?”

“I mean, I was just thinking that maybe later we could work on some of your hand skills. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with them. I’m just saying that I won’t fight you if you want to practice.”

She takes a step away to go to take a shower, but before she makes it there’s a hand grasped around her knee that’s pulling her back into bed with a thud, her head hitting against the mattress while her arms hits out over Killian’s stomach as he laughs next to her.

“How are you an adult who teaches people for a living?”

“Well I graduated from secondary school, then I went to University at Oxford and then I came here to – ”

“Wait,” she stops him, twisting her body so that she can look him in the eyes, “you went to Oxford? How did I not know that? I really feel like that’s something I should know.”

She sees the blush rise on his cheeks, and she can’t quite figure out why. So she reaches up to caress his face, running her hand over his scruff to coax his gaze back to her. She should really be getting ready for work, but it’s probably okay if she skips doing her hair or makeup today.

“I mean, probably, but there are bound to be lots of things we don’t know about each other still. Where I went to university isn’t that important.”

“Yeah, but we know the important things, I think. One day, though, I want to hear about all of these little details that I don’t know, okay?”

“Only if you share the same with me.”

“I’m not nearly as interesting. I’m not an Oxford man like you.”

“No offense, love, but if you were, I don’t think you’d quite be my type.”

She leans forward and quickly pecks his lips. “That’s what you think. Breakfast, baby, and then I’ll do something for dinner since Liam and Loren are coming into town today and I’m sure you’ll be busy obsessively cleaning your guest room.” “You don’t know that.”

“I might not know you went to Oxford, but I know you, Killian Jones.”

-/-

Killian texted her that Liam and Loren arrived around lunch and that he’d have Sawyer over with them all day, so instead of going to her apartment, she walks across the hall and pulls out her key for Killian’s place, opening the door to hear loud chatter and laughter that stops the moment she walks in. She sees Liam first, the lightness of his eyes reaching hers as she takes in the broadness of his shoulders and the curl in his hair. Killian definitely doesn’t have that curl, but even if she didn’t know they were brothers and hadn’t seen pictures of him before, she’d know just looking at him. Loren is next to him, her red hair pulled up into a ponytail, and she’s got a kind smile on her face that allows Emma to relax the slightest bit.

“Um, hi,” she greets, awkwardly waving her hand and walking further into the room to place the food on the kitchen counters, shedding her sweater. “You must be Loren and Liam. I’m Emma.”

“Hello, love,” Liam says first, getting up from the couch and walking toward her, his hand stretching out in front of her until she takes it. “It’s nice to meet you. Killian is in the bedroom changing your daughter since I’m sure you were wondering.”

“I was, yeah,” she laughs, releasing his hand and wiping her hands down until she has to shake Loren’s hand too. “Did you guys have a good flight?”

“It was long,” Loren groans, throwing her head back even as she smiles, “and the jet lag is a killer right now. Killian’s been keeping us entertained. Your daughter is adorable by the way. I hope it’s okay that we got to spend some time with her today.”

“Oh, of course. She usually goes to nursery, but with Killian not working, he offered to take her while he was on break. And he’s much better with her than anyone else.”

Loren gives her a kind smile while Liam gives her a colder one, and even when she’s been the only person in this apartment, it’s never felt quite this quiet. Meeting new people is always so awkward, but it’d probably help if Killian was out here right now. With her child. She wants to see her child.

“So I wasn’t really sure what you guys like,” she begins, needing something to do with her hands as she unpacks the food out of the counter, “but I figured no one can say no to breakfast for dinner. There’s a diner around the corner that is absolutely delicious, and they’re having all of these yummy holiday themed foods right now. There’s this crepe in here that I swear to you tastes like hot chocolate. I got it for me, but I’d be happy to share.”

“That sounds delicious, Emma,” Loren promises, helping to unpack the boxes. “It smells good too. Don’t you think, sweetie?”

“It does. Thanks for getting us dinner.”

She waves them away, a little more ease setting into her shoulders now that she has something to talk about with them. It’s been awhile since she’s had to get to know someone new that’s not been in a work capacity, and meeting her boyfriend’s brother, well, that’s kind of terrifying. And maybe Liam just isn’t a naturally friendly and outgoing person. Killian loves him probably more than anything in this world, but they’ve known each other for their entire lives. She’s known him for ten minutes. Of course it’s not going to be the same.

She’s just setting out her crepe and the omelet she knows that Killian likes when he walks out of his bedroom with Sawyer dressed in a pair of her pajamas, her hair very obviously freshly washed. He must have gone ahead and given her a bath.

“Hey,” she smiles, dropping the food and walking over to them, pressing up on her toes to kiss Killian’s cheek before she takes Sawyer out of his arms, smattering kisses all over her face until she’s a giggling mess. “Hey, my baby girl. Oh I missed you today. Did you have a good time with Killian and his family? Did you?” Sawyer coos back something that resembles mama but that’s not quite there yet, and she presses one more kiss to her temple before she looks up at Killian. “When was the last time she ate?”

“About three hours ago.”

“Okay, I’ll feed her after we eat.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” He dips his head until his lips are slanting over hers in a slow kiss that seemingly goes on forever until there’s a cough behind them. “Hush, you wanker. Emma, darling, have you meet my charming brother and his wonderful wife?”

“I have. They’re very nice and are super excited about having breakfast for dinner.”

“From the – ”

“Yep.”

They all settle down in front of the television to eat, and things are much easier with Killian around. Conversation flows more smoothly, the laughter she heard when she first walked in comes back, and Sawyer totally eats up all of the attention she’s getting as well as reveling in the different Christmas lights that Killian has in his apartment. They’d decorated her place together, pulling out old decorations and going out to buy new ones, and even though Killian said there was no need for him to do his apartment since he’d probably spend a lot of the holiday season with she and Sawyer, she’d still made him decorate. It’s not much, just a few multi-colored lights strung around the windows as well as a small tree that sits on his coffee table, but at least it’s something. At least he’s not the Grinch.

She really likes Liam and Loren, even if their names go together a little too well for her taste, but what she mostly likes is how happy they make Killian. It’s odd to be in a room with him and be the only person without an accent or to not know a lot of the inside jokes, but watching him laugh, the way he throws his head back against the couch and water falls from his eyes, well, she could watch that all day. She really could. She loves him, and she wants him to be happy all the damn time.

Around eight Loren calls it a night, claiming that she can’t make it any longer, and as she walks to the guest room, suddenly Emma realizes just how much Sawyer needs to go to bed in her crib. She’s asleep on Killian’s shoulder right now, likely drooling up a storm, but Emma hasn’t said anything because she’s selfish and likes the way that Killian’s free hand is running up and down her inner thigh in a movement that she knows is unconscious. He’s not trying to stir her up or start something. It’s simply how his hand falls, and as much as she would like some alone time with him to make good on their conversation from this morning, she really kind of wants to go to sleep. But not for a little while at least.

“I’m going to take her to bed,” he whispers in her ear, scruff brushing against her skin as the warmth of his breath washes over her.

“Okay,” she sighs, getting up with him so she can kiss the crown of Sawyer’s head. “Goodnight, baby. I’ll see you in less time than either of us want.”

Killian chuckles under his breath before he’s walking out of the apartment, the door closing behind him at the same time that plates are clanking together from where she’s cleaning up dinner. Liam joins her in the kitchen not a moment later.

“So what exactly is your plan here?” Liam spits, tossing a dish in the sink while the smile that was on his face a moment ago disappears into a scowl. She feels cornered all of the sudden, and every instinct she has stands on high alert. Why the hell does he look so angry? What just changed?

“What are you talking about?”

Liam scoffs, and her skin heats in response, cheeks likely tinted in red as bright as the ornaments on the miniature tree. What the hell is happening? “I’m talking about with my brother. What are you doing here? Getting him involved with you and your daughter.”

“We’re dating. We’re adults who are dating, and I just so happen to have a kid. It happens every damn day.”

“Yeah, but my brother seems to be convinced that your child is his.”

“I’m sorry…what?”

“You went to a sperm bank right? That’s how you got pregnant.”

“Not that it’s any of your business but yes.”

“Exactly, and Killian’s gone and convinced himself that he was your donor because he apparently donated sperm years ago to the same bank you used. And now he’s walking around thinking he’s a father while he’s not, and you have every bit of power to rip this child away from him because he has no legal right to her.”

“You’re crazy,” she scoffs, disbelief running through her as she steadies her shaking limbs on the countertop behind her. “You are actually crazy. Sawyer is my daughter. Mine. I love Killian, and I know that he loves us but…but he doesn’t think she’s his biological daughter. That would be crazy, and Killian is not crazy.”

“And yet I am?”

“Yes! You’re spewing all of these lies at me! And for what? To drive a wedge between me and Killian? That’s insane. He’s happy. I’m happy. Why would you try to change that?”

“I’m trying to protect him.”

“No, you’re being an asshole.” She gains the strength in her legs to move again, and she quickly walks out of the kitchen, dodging Liam to leave Killian’s apartment and run back over to hers where Killian was going to put Sawyer in her crib.

Liam is crazy. He’s crazy. He has to be. Why would he say these things? Why would he corner her like that? Why does he say that Killian thinks he’s Sawyer’s father? He can’t be. He can’t. Even if he really did donate sperm…he can’t be.

Can he?

No, the odds are too low. It’s not possible, and he would have told her. He wouldn’t have kept this from her or lied to her for this long. Sawyer is almost nine months old. He just wouldn’t have. He loves her, and he wouldn’t keep something like this from her.

Would he?

Would he lie to her like this?

Her body is buzzing with a nervous energy, one that makes her continue to shake, and she struggles to get her front door open with the way her head is pounding, her heart thrumming with it. She could vomit. She might actually vomit all over her living room floor and the Christmas tree that’s full of presents now. Covering her mouth with her hand and ignoring the way her stomach rolls, she walks down the hall to the nursery to find Sawyer fast asleep and Killian straightening up the changing table.

It’s so natural for him to be in here. It’s just like he fits, but right now she feels like she’s having the rug ripped out from under her, having her life ripped out from under her.

“Do you think you’re Sawyer’s father?”

#indirect deposit #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #captain swan fic

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