#she's putting them on the table and letting them slam together from like 4-5 inches away and OW

[fabulouslygaybean]

if this girl at my table doesn't stop slamming her fidget magnets together im going to scream

[boxesandrings]

For the fic request

Shane x F! farmer pls they want to tell jas and Marie about them dating. and their going to to do it at a dinner at marnies ranch.

Hi! I finally wrote this piece and had a lot of fun with it! It took me a while because I had a lot of ideas about how this could go, and wanted it to be fun! I hope you enjoy!

Title: The Set Up

Rating: G

Summary: Shane and the Farmer have been seeing each other for a few months, and want to tell Shane's family over dinner. Marnie, who's unaware of what's been going on, has a different plan for the couple.

Characters: Shane, F!Farmer, Jas, Marnie

Word Count: 3141

Story under the cut, and also on my AO3!

Shane had just finished buttoning up his shirt when he heard Jas yell and slam the door. He ran out of his bedroom, head swiveling as he searched for her, afraid she had fallen or gotten hurt somehow. He listened for her sobs, but sighed a breath of relief when he heard her excitedly talking to someone outside of the ranch. He checked his watch— 4:45. Marnie must be home. He headed towards the door, determined to rescue his aunt from the excited 7-year-old, who had been just a little too excited about dinner with the Farmer tonight.

Jas and Marnie liked the Farmer, quite a bit, which Shane was incredibly grateful for. He and the Farmer had also gotten incredibly close over the past year and a half, something that Marnie had wholeheartedly approved of, as the Farmer had somehow pulled Shane out of his depression, sobered him up and set him on the right path again.

What Marnie hadn’t realized was that two months ago, Shane and the Farmer had spent the day in Zuzu city exploring, watching the Tunnelers and taking tours, exchanging quiet confessions and kissing in every darkened alleyway they passed. They had been dating since but hadn’t told anyone yet, afraid of the newness of the relationship. The pair had finally decided to tell Marnie and Jas about them, and when Marnie had invited the Farmer over for dinner last week, they decided that it was the perfect time.

Shane got to the door and opened it, taking a step out into the brisk fall air. He was surprised to find that instead of Marnie, Jas was excitedly trying to jump on the Farmer, rapidly asking questions and attempting to pull things out of the brown paper bag the Farmer had brought with her. The Farmer was laughing, spinning in circles so that Jas couldn’t reach inside of the bag, carefully holding a wrapped package and some kind of bottle under her arm, answering the few questions that she could.

“Jas, get off of her.” The Farmer looked up, noticing Shane for the first time. She smiled, and Shane noticed her cheeks grow pink as she quickly scanned his body and felt his own grow warm.

“I like that, your shirt. You look nice today.” The Farmer readjusted the items she held, shrugging her arm so that the bag made its way back to her shoulder, her hands holding the package tighter. Shane bit his lip— she was wearing some kind of black, sleeveless dress, made seasonally appropriate by a dark, rich orange turtleneck underneath. She looked beautiful.

“You’re early,” is what he said instead, but he could tell by the Farmer’s curling lips and mischievous look that she might have guessed what he had truly been thinking.

“Marnie told me 5?” Shane shook his head.

“Oh, I thought-- Maybe I misheard.” Shane motioned to Jas. “Come on, let’s let her in the door.”

Jas groaned but walked over to Shane, reaching up to take his hand as he led her back into the house. The Farmer followed behind, setting everything as carefully down on the kitchen table as she could. She began to unwrap the package she had been carrying, taking Jas’ attention once again.

“What are you carrying? What did you bring?” Jas was gripping the edge of the table, jumping up and down hoping for a better view. The Farmer smiled as she worked.

“Your Aunt asked me to bring a pumpkin pie, and I figured I’d bring some apple cider too!” Jas ‘ooh’d’ as the pie was finally revealed, but her attention quickly turned to the bag as she grabbed at its edge.

“And in here?” The Farmer laughed and took the bag away, lifting it to her own face and taking a look inside.

“Well, it’s mostly just a bunch of stuff like vegetables that I thought you guys might like, but I think I did have something for you…” The Farmer reached into the bag and pretended to dig around, tongue sticking out as she looked up at the ceiling. Jas was beside herself with excitement, but Shane rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile.

She was so sweet with Jas. He had never said anything to the Farmer about it, even before they were dating, but he could tell the Farmer understood that Jas was always going to be the most important thing to him. Jas’ parents were dead and Shane was incredibly protective of her, helping raise and take care of the girl with his aunt.

The Farmer finally pulled out a deep purple flower and Jas gasped, carefully accepting it as she stared at the petals. The Farmer crouched down to Jas’ level, watching the girl’s face.

“Do you like it? Shane told me they were your favorite.” Jas nodded, turning the flower in her hand.

“Yes! Thank you!” She gave the Farmer a hug, wrapping her arms around the woman’s neck. She pulled away, smiling, then turned around to face Shane. “Look!”

“I see! How cool!” He took a step forward and picked Jas up, resting her on his hip. She was getting big, he wouldn’t be able to do this for much longer. He looked at her face, where something blue and sticky was on it. “Dude, what’s all over you?” He tried to rub a thumb against her face, but the gunk didn’t budge.

“We made slime at school today! It’s in my room, do you wanna see?” He set Jas down.

“Later tonight, sure! But I think we’re going to eat really soon, why don’t you put your flower in your room and clean up?” Jas nodded and sped off, closing the door to her bedroom behind her.

Shane looked at the Farmer, who had stood up and was now leaning against the table. She smiled when their eyes met.

“Hi.” Her voice was quiet, and Shane smiled now and walked closer to her, their bodies only inches apart.

“Hi.” She wrapped her arms up around his shoulders, their bodies now pressed together. He had his arms wrapped around her back. “Did you bring anything for me?” The Farmer pressed her lips together, an over exaggerated thinking look on her face.

“Hmmm… nope?” She looked back up at him, their faces getting closer. Shane heard the faucet in Jas’ bathroom turn on.

“Oh, but I had something for you.” His forehead pressed against hers.

“Yeah? What is it?” Shane kissed the Famer, their lips finally meeting as he held her. He could kiss her forever, but pulled away after a few seconds. They hadn’t told his family yet. “You look nice today.”

The Farmer giggled, pressing her face into Shane’s shoulder. He heard a muffled ‘thanks’ from his shoulder, and had been preparing something else, some other compliment when he heard the oven timer go off. He took a sudden step back and made his way toward the oven, the Farmer swaying forward and letting out a small ‘ah!’ as he did.

“Sorry! Chicken’s done. I think.” He grabbed a pair of oven mitts and put them on, reaching for the oven door. He heard the Farmer grab something behind him and make her way toward the fridge, opening the door.

“I’m gonna put the pie and the whipped cream I made in here.” Shane pulled the chicken out. Did it look right? He hoped he followed the recipe right. Where was the meat thermometer, he better check.

“Wait, the pie in the fridge? Aren’t they supposed to be warm?” He opened a drawer, searching for the utensil.

“Maybe? My family always put the pumpkin ones in the fridge at least. I like them cold.” Shane found the thermometer and stuck it in the chicken and sucked in through his teeth.

“Geeze, I don’t know if we’re gonna work.” He looked over at the Farmer and smiled, who in turn stuck her tongue out through her teeth and scrunched her nose. He turned his attention back to the bird— the temperature was good.

The Farmer made her way to a cabinet, searching for utensils to lay out. “That smells really good.” Shane smiled.

“Thanks, I just showered.” He heard her snort behind him, and the rattling of the forks in her hands.

“Hardy-har-har. I meant the chicken.” Shane nodded, taking off his oven mitts and heading toward the refrigerator, where Marnie had put the salad she made earlier.

“Thanks. I’ve never made it before so I hope it’s alright?” He put the salad in the middle of the table, then took half the utensils from his girlfriend and started on the other side of the table. “It’s Marnie’s recipe, so if it’s gross we can just blame her.” The two were now standing on the same side of the large circular table, and when they bumped into each other made eye contact and smiled.

“My ears are burning, someone must be talking about me!” Marnie sang as she walked into the kitchen, setting her purse down on the counter. Her eyes were flicking back and forth between the couple, a large smile on her face. Shane scooched away from the Farmer awkwardly, but the Farmer didn’t flinch, instead walking toward Marnie with her arms outstretched.

“Marnie! Thank you for inviting me over today. It’s been so busy this season, so it’s nice to take a break and actually eat a proper meal.” She gave Marnie a hug, but wasn’t prepared for the force of Marnie’s hug back.

“Of course! You’re always welcome here.” Marnie finally let the Farmer go, scanning over the other woman’s outfit. Marnie turned to Shane, obviously about to say something, but paused as she took Shane in with an approving look in her eye.

“Well, that’s quite a nice shirt.” She nodded at him, but Shane scrunched his face.

“It’s a shirt! I can wear nice shirts sometimes. Why is everyone bringing up the shirt?” He moved toward the hallway door. “I’m going to get Jas, she was washing some… weird… goo off of herself.”

Shane made his way to Jas’ room, the chattering of the women behind him still audible. Marnie’s loud and warm laughter, the Farmer’s sweet giggles. He knocked on Jas’ door and waited for her response, opening when he heard her tiny voice.

Jas was at her little desk, coloring a picture when Shane walked in. He saw the Farmer’s flower in a large cup by Jas’ bed, water practically up to the bloom. He’d have to pour some out later, but admired Jas’ efforts.

“Dinner’s ready, kiddo.” Jas looked up at him, smiling.

“Do you like it? I’m drawing the flower.” Shane nodded, admiring the purple and blue image on the table.

“It’s very pretty.” Jas smiled, and set her crayons down. “Now let’s go eat!” Jas didn’t move.

“But Aunt Marnie told me to give the adults some space tonight.” Shane cocked his head.

“What?”

“Yeah, she said before she got home to let you talk with your friend for a bit.” She smiled at Shane, so proud that she had followed her Aunt’s instructions so perfectly. Shane felt even more confused.

“Well,” he said, shaking the feeling off, “now I’m saying to come eat dinner with us. Let’s go.” Jas hopped up, running out of the room.

In the hallway, Shane and Jas ran into the Farmer on her tiptoes, reaching up into a closet. Shane stopped, but nudged Jas ahead to the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” The Farmer stepped back, nodding.

“Your Aunt asked that I get some tablecloth out, that she was too short to grab it, but I don’t think I’m doing much better.” Shane scratched his head. Since when did they use a tablecloth? He peered up into the closet, spying the fabric far overhead.

“I don’t think either of us would be able to get that without a stepstool. There’s one in here somewhere, I think.” Shane dropped to his knees, sorting through the boxes below until he found what he was looking for. He pulled it out and pulled the bars apart.

“Oh, thanks!” The Farmer climbed up both steps, reaching far up into the closet overhead. The tablecloth was still a little high up— who even put it there?-- and the Farmer was still reaching far above, her heels lifted, wobbling slightly. Shane steadied her with a protective hand on her back, ready to hold her if she started to fall. The Farmer stretched as far as she could, finally pinching the fabric between her fingers.

“Got it!” She pulled down the tablecloth with a swift motion, almost falling backwards as she did. Shane steadied her, concerned as he held his girlfriend.

“You good?” The Farmer nodded.

“Yeah.” She looked down on Shane, smiling.

“Oh good! The tablecloth is out.” The couple turned to face Marnie, who was leaning against the archway leading into the kitchen, her lips pressed tightly in a way suggesting she was trying to hide a smile. Shane moved his hands back to his side, realizing that he still had them around the Farmer. “Well, shall we eat?” Marnie turned around and quickly headed into the kitchen. The Farmer and Shane looked at each other, and followed behind.

Once the tablecloth had been laid out and the placemats reset, the group sat down to enjoy their dinner, chatting amicably about nothing at all; the season was going well, the animals were producing at a nice rate, Jas had gotten an A on a test. A few times, Marnie would ask a question that would give the Farmer pause, asking about past relationships, what she thought of certain people in town, and Shane would throw his aunt a look, mentally pleading for her to change the topic. Or suddenly, she would grow very complimentary of Shane, talking about past achievements or how he was with Jas, and Shane could tell the Farmer was holding in laughter.

“You know,” Marnie finally said, “We’re really so glad that you came into our lives. Shane’s been doing so much better since the two of you met. You’re really such a positive influence on him.” The Farmer bit her lip, her jaw tense trying to hold back a grin. Shane’s face flushed red.

“Oh, thank you.” She looked briefly at Shane, then back to Marnie.

“Marnie, I— yes. But I don’t think we really have to—” Marnie cut Shane off, kicking her nephew under the table.

“I mean, the two of you make such wonderful friends, I’m sure he agrees. Right Shane?” Shane didn’t know if he could blush any harder, his cheeks were burning. The Farmer’s eyes were wild, practically eating her lips to hide her smile.

“Yeah, we’re real good friends.” Shane cleared his throat.

“Actually, we were, uh, gonna—” Marnie cut him off again.

“I really think you two should hang out more, even. I mean, you get along so well, and who knows where things could go.”

“Marnie!” Shane jumped in his chair and grit his teeth. “What are you doing?” The Farmer covered her mouth with her hand, shaking with laughter. Much like the rest of his family, it seemed, she loved to see him worked up. Jas, holding her cup with both hands, was taking a long sip, her eyes darting between the adults at the table. Marnie turned to Shane.

“What? You were obviously never going to make a move, I thought I’d help!” the woman stage-whispered, her voice loud enough that everyone at the table could hear her. The Farmer lost it now, tears streaking down her face as she laughed.

“Marnie!” The Farmer's head was on the table as she tried to contain her laughter, her hair well into the food, but she hadn’t noticed. Even Jas now was giggling behind her cup at the spectacle unfolding before her.

“I see the way you look at her! Nothing is ever going to happen if you keep mooning at her from a distance!”

It all made sense now. The two different dinner times. Jas’ weird statements. Marnie waiting in the hallways. The table cloth. His aunt had been trying to set them up, unaware that they had already done it themselves. The Farmer lifted her head, shaking still.

“Shane, do you have a crush on me?” He could barely make out the words between her giggles.

“I— Marnie!” He turned back toward his aunt. “I— you don’t need to set dates up for me! I’m a fully grown adult!” Marnie shrugged.

“It really looked like you needed the help.” The Farmer’s head hit the table again, causing Jas to spill her apple cider as she laughed.

“I don’t need the help! We were going to talk about this tonight!” Marnie tilted her head. Shane cleared his throat, trying to settle down. “We’re already dating. We were just waiting for the right time to bring it up.” Jas set her cup down, a large smile on her face. Marnie clasped her hands together over her chest.

“Oh! Shane, why didn’t— is this true?” Marnie turned toward the Farmer, who lifted her head and nodded, still crying. At least she was having fun.

“Yeah, it’s— it’s true,” the Farmer said through giggles, and Jas immediately began to fire off questions at the Farmer. Marnie clapped again.

“Oh! Shane, I’m so happy. You two really would— do— make a good couple, I was so hoping this would happen.” Shane rested his head in his hands, massaging his temple.

“It was just so new that we didn’t want to tell anyone, in case...” Marnie laughed.

“There’s no way it’d go bad.” She looked toward the Farmer, who was still shaking but trying to answer Jas’ questions. Marnie herself began to laugh, the giggles almost uncontrollable. “Looks like you didn’t need any help after all.”

Shane looked up, thoroughly prepared to be annoyed with his aunt, but as he looked at the women at the table— Marnie laughing in her chair, Jas asking rapid fire questions as his girlfriend did her best to answer them while she giggled— and realized that maybe this was just okay. His family already loved his girlfriend (maybe more than him, even) and were rooting for the relationship, even when they didn’t know about it.

The Farmer caught Shane’s look and winked before turning her focus back to Jas, and Shane smiled. While Marnie had somehow gone about things in the worst way possible, the night had gone well. And now, Shane could do what he had wanted to do since the Farmer had caught him in the barn working with the chickens, all those months ago— call her his girlfriend, to make it known how he felt about her, how she felt about him. The night had definitely gone well.

[headinthestaticsky]

Sanctuary with the Enthralling Moon: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 4

Authors notes: I think this is my least favorite chapter I have wrote... but, I hope you guys like it anyway.

All rights go to Stephanie Meyer, none of the characters in Twilight are mine.

“Stay afloat When it feels like it's all going nowhere And you wanna know But the tide keeps trying to pull you under Let it go You can't fight the waves, boy, it's no wonder If you wanna grow Don't fight what's natural.”

Rush by, Kali Uchis

POV: Back to Fleurs.

Today I had woken up on my own and according to my alarm clock, it was already the afternoon. I stumbled down the stairs, almost running into a wall before making my way to the kitchen. I put my head on the table, trying wake myself up. It was crazy how fast the months had gone by. November and December came by in a flash and Leah and I had been hanging out more. I had almost dosed off in the kitchen when I heard my dad speak.

 “Hey Petal, Sam called... he wanted to see you today.”

“Sam? I didn’t except him to want to see me.”

“He was asking for you.”

“Okay, I’ll head down there now.”

I felt nervous on my way down there, I wondered why Sam was wanting to see me, why Bella was all of the sudden going down there. I stopped the car and sat there for a moment, collecting my nerves and unanswered questions and putting them in the back of my mind. When I got out I saw Sam, he looked pretty different from last year. His hair was cut short, he was way more buff, and he had a tattoo.

“Hey Fleur.”

“Sam.”

I sighed and then started walking toward the beach, Sam was trailing behind me.

“So... Jacob and Bella huh?” Sam started.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t heard anything about it?”

“No, Bella hasn’t had a civil conversation with me for a solid 5 months.”

“Oh... they’re apparently building dirt bikes down at Billy’s.”

“... She’s trying to kill herself... she won’t make it 5 inches without getting into some kind of accident.”

“Yeah...”

“Look... why did you call me? We haven’t talked for an entire year.”

“ I know you saw Leah yesterday, what did she say to you?.”

“We caught up, and then she told me what happened between you two. Why would you do that to her?”

“Do what?”

“Uh, break up with her after 3 years to then date and get engaged to her cousin? Someone who she was extremely close to mind you.”

“I wish I could tell you Fleur, but it’s complicated.”

“It seems to be all you do lately... You never explained to me why you didn’t want me to date Jasper so bad.”

“Because he’s a...”

“A what? Besides, I’m still dating him... I lived.”

“Of course you’re still with him. Your brain must’ve gotten fried back in Arizona.”

“Hey, don’t you dare insult my intelligence! What is with you? Why are you such a DICK all the time! Besides this isn’t about my relationship, this is about yours!”

“Don’t call me that Fleur.”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Hey, what’s going on down here?”

“Paul, stay out of this!”

“I’ll tell you whats going on, your friend here is being a complete dick!”

“Aww, did he hurt your feelings?” Paul said mockingly.

“Calling someone stupid tends to piss them off.”

“Well you don’t exactly look the intelligent type.”

I whipped my hand back and smacked him, He turned his head back around and started panting heavily. His face was red with anger and rage.

“Fleur... get back. Paul calm down.” Sam said

I slowly took a few steps back. All of the sudden Paul morphed into a wolf, I was frozen in my spot. Paul then took off, away from the beach.

“Sam... saying you turn into a wolf is not complicated... it’s pretty freaking clear. “hey Fleur... I turn into a giant ass werewolf.

“Come on, let’s head back to the house.”

“I would go with you... but I can’t move.”

Sam sighed before picking me up, he started running back down to the house.

“So... I’m going to assume being a werewolf has something to do with what happened Leah huh?”

“Yeah, it does...you see us werewolves have the ability to imprint on someone. This person could be a lover or just have a brother/sister relationship. We’re a protector to that person we imprint on.”

“So you imprinted on Emily...”

“Yeah, the second I locked eyes with her... I couldn’t stop myself from imprinting, it was as if someone else had over taken my body.”

“I get it now, you don’t really have a choice as to who it is, it chooses you.”

“Exactly.”

“Now that I got that part of the context clues it makes you seem way less of a dick...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So... if your tribes legend is right, you know that the Cullens are vampires.”

“Yeah we do.”

“Listen, the Cullens are not bad people, they don’t even go after humans.”

“They’re still a bunch of leeches.”

“You need to have some faith in me here Sam. Jasper’s amazing, he would do anything for me. I would do anything for him... we protect each other. Even though, he does a lot more of the protecting than me.”

He sighed

“Okay, okay... I’ll trust him...  but that’s about as far as I will go on that.”

“It’s progress...”

Timeskip: A week later

It seems I was always going down to the reservation anymore after meeting Emily and having the whole imprinting thing cleaned up I was hanging around Sam a lot more. Today I was going to visit Billy and Jacob. I wanted to see if those rumors on the dirt bikes were true. Bella still wasn’t talking to me so... I would have to figure it out myself. When I got there I started walking toward an old red shed, I knocked on it, waiting for someone to answer.

“Come in!”

“Hey Jake, it’s been a while!”

“Fleur!” He ran toward me and spun me around in a hug.

“So are the rumors true? Where are the dirt bikes?”

“Yeah...what are you doing here Fleur.” Bellas voice had jumped in, venom leaked out of it.

“You haven’t talked to me in 3 months Bella. When I hear that you’re somewhere I have to investigate it... Me seeing you is a rare phenomena, it’s like it happens every 100 years.”

“Well you saw me, you can leave now.”

“Make me leave.”

“Okay you two, cool it. You can come with us if you want  We plan on riding the bikes down by the beach.”

“Oh...”

“No... she will not come with us.” Bella interrupted

“No don’t worry about it... I was going down to Sam’s I thought I would stop by on the way.”

Bella scoffed.

“Of course you’d hang out with Sam, Jake has told me about him, I heard he tries to influence people too.”

“Are you trying to insinuate that I made the Cullens leave, again?”

“Glad to know your brain still works.”

“I’m not starting this with you Bella, you’re not worth it I need to go, Emily is excepting me soon. It was nice to see you again Jake.” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around.” Jake looked between us... he looked trapped, caught in the middle of our childish fight.

POV Change: Bella’s

“Can you believe her Jake? I know she’s just trying to get me in trouble with those bikes... she’s probably on her way home telling Dad right now.”

“What’s up with you and Fleur? I really don’t think she came here to find proof of you doing this just to tell your dad.”

“You don’t know her like I do, she’s a manipulator...”

“I’ve just never known Fleur to be like that...”

“You haven’t been around her long enough to know her like I do... Can we talk about something else please?”

“Sure... we need to go anyway.”

Timeskip: To Sam and Emily’s AND a POV Change: Back to Fleur

Emily was making food in the kitchen, she was excepting the rest of the pack to come over today so she had her hands full. I was peeling potatoes and carrots while talking to Emily. It was nice, it was like talking to an older sister.

“So you Bella aren’t doing so well?”

“No... it was so weird, we had been getting along a lot last year... Then all of sudden we got into a fight in Arizona and we haven’t been the same ever since...”

“I understand how you feel, It’s the same way with Leah and I. Ever since Sam and I got together... it just hasn’t been the same.”

“I might be able to help you out with this one... Let’s say that the situation with Sam was flipped. He was with you, vanished for a week, and then imprinted on Leah when he came back. It would be a lot to take in for someone... I don’t mean to make you sound like the bad guy but... if you put yourself in her shoes, you might understand her a bit better.”

“Yeah, you’re right... I couldn’t imagine how that must feel. But, what do I do?”

“Just give her sometime. I’m positive she’ll come around, the way she talks about you to me seems full of love. She just needs some time apart right now.”

‘Okay, that’s fair... I’ll give her some space... thanks Fleur.”

“No probl...”

“Fleur come quick! Bella hit her head she’s bleeding.” Jacob said, he was panting as he if he ran down here. His shirt was missing too.

“Damn it... I knew she shouldn’t of gotten on those bikes... She trips walking on a flat service with nothing in front of her.” 

I ran out of the house, Jake was running quickly behind me, I could see Bella leaning against her truck, holding Jake’s shirt on her head. 

“Do you need me to drive you to the hospital?” I asked.

Bella didn’t even look at me, her head was turned to the side.

“Look, you can still hold a grudge against me... we don’t have to talk the entire way. But you literally bleeding out of your head... you need patched up.”

Bella groaned in annoyance, before throwing me her keys. She opened the truck door and then slammed it shut.

“Thanks for tell me Jake, I better go,”

“No problem.”

We didn’t say one word to each other the entire trip to the hospital, nor did we talk the entire ride home. I of course, had to explain to dad why she had a patch on her head.

“She and Jake were walking on the beach, the sand was a bit too slippery and she fell and hit her head on a rock.”

A week had gone by, Bella was even more tense than usual. Jacob had stopped talking to her after an incident at the movie theater with her and Mike. At least, that’s what dad had told me. My dreams with Jasper were getting more real and intense. The last phone call I had with him seemed like the dreams were starting to get to them. 

Flashback to phone call.

“I saw you again, you were following me where ever I went, but you disappear before I can talk to you.”

“That’s so strange...”

“One day I’m going to call out for you, and you’re actually going to be there.”

“I hope so, I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.”

Flashback over

“Petal, Harry and I are going on a fishing trip. Watch out for Bella, if she goes anywhere, follow her. I don’t know how she’s doing right now since Jake is talking to her... We don’t need another woods incident.”

“Sure, no problem.”

It seemed as soon as dad had left, Bella planned on leaving, I caught her before she could reach the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, I was just planning on going for a walk...I thought I would invite you to go with me.”

“Really? Where did you plan on walking then?”

“To the woods.” I lied on the spot

“Fine... I’ll go with you.”

We walked in the woods for a bit, the only sound I could hear was crunching underneath my feet.

“Do you know why Jake hasn’t talked to me?”

“No.” I half lied, I thought I knew what was happening...Billy had said Jacob had mono and he couldn’t even go outside. But, I thought he was changing, that he would become a werewolf soon. 

“Oh come on Fleur, I saw you two talking outside before you went to drive me to the hospital... You want me to be completely isolated from everyone.”

“Are... are you insane? Did that hit you took from the bike accident damage your brain somehow? All I did was thank him for bringing you back.”

“Whatever... this is all your fault!” Bella said, she then sprinted out in the woods, trying to lose me.”

“BELLA!” I yelled and began to chase after her. I found her quickly though, and I saw her hunched on the ground, picking at dead bits of grass. I heard rustling on the other side of the field. Bella heard it too and looked up, she then gasped.

“Laurent?” 

[comphersjost]

All for You | 2 ➸ Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

hi, its 3 am, and i couldnt stop until i finished this. ik i promised yall another part on thursday so im sorry this is later then i was hoping. i hope you enjoy it :) i took a different approach to brady here than ive normally seen, let me know how you guys like it!!

It’s been 4 and a half months since that day in the basement. With Christmas just days away and Matty on a flight back home, you and Brady take a risk, leaving Matt to wonder where he went wrong.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: this is really angsty yall, like actually, smut, sir kink, brady is Mean, uh moral ambiguity sorta (thinking abt someone else during sex), d/s undertones sorta, unprotected sex (be safe), oral (m on f), some choking, alcohol (wine), sex under the influence, pls ignore any typos fkakldfa

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

masterlist

Even with how utterly fucked the situation was that Matt had found himself in, there was one thing he couldn't stop thinking about. It was the way his logo and his last name and his number rested against your back that drove him insane.

It was burned into his retinas.

Even now, on a plane back home to St. Louis it was all he could think about. Every time he closed his eyes it was you you you.

It had been months since he had seen you. Nearly 5 months had passed since that night in the basement. And it killed him.

He was in a slump. Everyone knew it. He knew it, his teammates knew it, the damn front office knew it. And it was because of you.

His teammates had quickly put together your absence at any sort of gathering and Matty’s sulking. 4 and a half months later he resembles a shell of the man he used to be.

He had called, of course he had. Over and over, hoping, pleading, praying to any deity that existed out there to hear from you again.

Matthew’s prayer was answered one day, when he had come out of practice to find a text from you. His heart rate accelerated, time felt like molasses as his phone camera ID’d his face. As the facial recognition unlocks his phone, the message is revealed.

Please stop calling me. And tell the boys to stop too.

The text tears his heart to shreds. It was the last straw. Before he had been mopey, but now - now he was spiraling. His play was abysmal - a shit show on the ice really. He drank until he blacked out every time, not even looking at another girl.

He had contemplated going to your work, but decided a player in the middle of a slump having a restraining order filed against him would not go over well with the Flames management. Every time he went out for the most mundane task, groceries, dry cleaning, he couldn’t help the hope that he would run into you. Even if you didn’t give him the time of day it would be enough for him to just see you.

He hadn’t seen you since that day. Not for lack of trying, though. Matthew had been to all the spots you used to frequent—the grocery store you love, the clubs you two used to go to, even the 7/11 you had both been to after the both of you got so drunk that you could barely walk. You weren’t on the flight you had booked back together. In fact, he had no idea about anything that’s been going on in your life, his mom just told him that you’re okay and that was all he got.

Now it was 3 days before Christmas and the idea of seeing you again both filled him with dread and also made him feel more alive than he had in months. He was equally utterly terrified and buzzing with excitement. His hands itched to hold you again, though he knew there was a bigger chance of you slapping him than letting him kiss you the way he wanted.

As Matt stares out the window at the clouds, he lets his mind wander. He wonders how you're doing; are you okay? After everything that happened did you pick up right where you left off? He wondered if you missed him, if he was on your mind as much as you were on his.

He still wondered if you loved him back.

-

“Mom, I really just, I really want to stay home and do nothing tonight okay? I'm tired.”

Your mom rolls her eyes at your attempt at getting out of going over to Tkachuk’s house tonight. You’d been trying since 9 am.

“Honey, I know you said you and Matthew don’t hang out anymore, but he won't be there!” she tried reassuring you, “Brady and Taryn will be there to hang out with you until Taryn goes to spend the night with the Johnson’s.” That made you groan even louder - you had to be alone with Brady. Great, now you had to steel yourself for a night of utter humiliation.

Brady isn't even downstairs yet when you enter the Tkachuk’s threshold, Chantal’s call for her kids brings Taryn down in an instant, ever excited to see you.

“Y/N!” she squeals, running down the stairs, “You're here, you're here!”

“Y/N?” you hear faintly, and then the slam of Brady’s door and rapid footsteps. He nearly slides down the stairs, freezing at the bottom when he spots you. Taryn lets you out of her embrace, leaving you to stare wide-eyed at Brady. Unsure how to navigate your way out of this situation, you keep staring at Brady as your parents and Taryn follow Chantal to the kitchen.

“Hi, B,” you say meekly, unsure of how he’ll receive you after so long.

“Hi, buttercup,” he responds, a bright smile pulling at his lips. It’s all he needs to take a few quick steps in your direction and draw you into his arms.

“I missed you so much, buttercup,” he whispers against your hairline, “More than you know.”

Despite his warm welcome, the night is tense. You still don't know what he thinks of that night, not wanting to ask him in front of your families - well, most of your families anyways. You didn't even let yourself think about what would happen when you saw Matthew at the next dinner party. You sat at the table and ate your food, barely speaking to Taryn and answering Keith and Chantal’s inquiries about your life in Calgary with a tight smile.

You’re so zoned out trying to make time go faster you barely register your parents telling you that they’re going out with Keith and Chantal.

“Mom, wait-”

“Y/N,” she warns, looking at you with that look, and you sigh in resignation. She smiles at you, a silent promise to make it up to you.

Taryn had left 30 minutes ago, announcing that she had somewhere to be before leaving as quickly as she could, uncomfortable with the palpable tension between you and Brady.

You watch your parents leave, wincing for a moment at what awaits you when you turn around. To your surprise, what greets you is a glass of wine hovering in front of your face.

You take the peace offering gingerly from Brady’s hand with a tiny smile. And it’s a really bad idea, the way you let him keep refilling your glass, and his own, let him draw you in during The Grinch on the couch, let him hold you tight under the blanket that was covering the both of you.

You can hear your common sense screaming in the back of your mind when you snuggle closer into Brady’s chest. It’s near 11 now, and your parents are still together, laughing and drinking in the living room of your house before Keith and Chantal are supposed to head to the airport. You're cuddled up to Brady, shifting every few minutes to try and get closer, even though nearly every inch of your body is practically glued to him.

He hums when you shift again, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “Gotta go home,” you say, your voice muffled against him. It’s not like you haven't spent the night with him before; you just haven't since that night.

“Probably,” he mumbles, arms tightening around you. “But I don't want you to.” And like, you've had way too much wine and you should probably go before Matty gets here cause you really can't handle that conversation like this so you push off of Brady, standing up but stumbling, wine sloshing over the lip of the glass and splattering on your pants.

“Fuck,” you hiss, the red wine surely staining the gray leggings you wore. Brady takes the glass from you, placing it on the table and stabilizing you with his other hand.

“Go change upstairs,” he says softly, looking up at you with those eyes you're such a sucker for. “Stay.”

And - how can you say no to that? You can't, because it's Brady and you're so damn easy for him it didn't matter what he’d asked you to do, you would do it without a second thought.

That's how you find yourself stumbling to Brady’s bedroom, barely finding your way to his bathroom to change out of your stained leggings and wipe yourself down. You rummage through Brady’s dresser, searching for - there it was. A pair of Brady’s sweatpants from high school that he stopped wearing approximately 2 months after he got them [mostly because he couldn't find them (mostly mostly because they were either in your room or on your body)].

You place the worn sweats on top of Brady’s dresser, fumbling to close the drawer and find your balance. Someone clears their throat and your head snaps towards the doorway. Brady is leaning against the doorframe and through the fuzziness of the wine, you register the thought that he looks so good like this - in his comfort zone.

“Hey,” he says, pushing off the doorframe towards you.

“Hi,” you whisper back, eyes too focused on Brady moving towards you.

“We should give it a shot,” Brady husks, hooded eyes trailing down your body and back up again. Suddenly the room feels too cold, the oversized sweater you had on stopped at the top of your thighs, barely covering the pale pink panties you were wearing. The sweater paws gave an air of innocence around you that Brady knew was fake.

“What are you talking about?” you whisper meekly, both concerned about what was going on in that head of his, and intrigued.

“You know how you feel about me,” Brady states - which isn't entirely true anymore, but you don’t interrupt. “I don’t know how I feel about you, and neither of us actually knows if this-” he motions between the two of you “-is it for us, so I say, we give it a shot and see how it feels. Let’s give it until we go back?”

When did he get so close to you? Brady’s taking more steps forward, and you’re taking as many steps back, until the back of your thighs hit the corner of the bed and you instinctively sit.

Which - in retrospect, was probably a mistake, because now Brady towers over you even more than before and now - you’re really intrigued. His fingers trail over your jaw, thumb swiping gently across your bottom lip.

You part your lips out of habit, eyes widen when you realize what you’ve done. Brady laughs darkly when he catches your slip up, stroking your face affectionately.

His thumb slips between your lips for a moment, and your eyes flutter shut as your cheeks hollow around him.

“Look at me,” he commands softly, and you do, opening your eyes to stare up at him again; Brady, your best friend. He smiles proudly, murmuring a soft, “Good girl.”

The words are uttered at the same time he withdraws from your warm mouth, wrapping his fingers gently around your throat. You can’t help the whine that escapes, mortified when Brady’s grin widens.

He leans down, mouth next to your ear to whisper, “Matty always did like it when they’re needy. Needy girls drive us crazy.”

Really, the thought of Matt shouldn’t be driving you crazy, but it is. And when you feel Brady’s nose nudge against yours, his mouth just millimeters from you - your biggest fantasy for nearly 20 years - you knew you were going to hell.

A needy moan escapes your throat before Brady’s hand tightens around your throat and you give in, looping your arms around his neck. You pull him down to meet your lips, nearly clawing at him in your desperation.

Faintly, you think that this is a bad idea, this would only hurt you more later on.

But the longer you kissed him, the less you cared about the consequences. You wanted - you needed Brady so fucking bad right now you were willing to deal with whatever the aftermath presented you with. Brady’s other hand finds the bottom of your sweater, slipping underneath the fabric to lay against your rib cage.

You needed more.

“Brady,” you whine as you break away from his lips, tugging at his hoodie. “Need you.” Brady chuckles darkly, tugging you by your throat to kiss him again.

“Ask nicely,” he husks against your mouth.

“Please,” you whimper again, pulling harder at the fabric to just get him closer. “Please, Brady, I need you so bad.”

“Try again.” Brady pushes you - nearly tosses you really - further up the bed with a snarl, ignoring the yelp you let out at the suddenness of his mood shift. You stare up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. You're unsure of your next words.

“Please…Daddy?”

A cocky smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. “Not quite.”

You think for a moment, watching him bring his hand behind his back and pull his shirt over his head. The dark look he gives you makes you shrink, as if to say ‘Still?’.

Suddenly your eyes light up, and Brady can see it. He's already on the bed, crawling up your body as you attempt to control your breath. The words are barely out before he's kissing you again.

“Please sir?”

Brady groans into your mouth when he hears you say the words, slotting himself between your thighs to grind his hips against yours. You mewl into his mouth when his clothed cock catches against your clit, pushing your hips up against him for more. He growls as he pulls away again, swatting your thigh as a warning.

“Careful, princess,” Brady warns - voice low and dangerous - and his grip on your hip so tight you knew there would be bruises in the morning, “or I won't be.” His words are thick with intention, both a threat and a promise.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe shakily, letting yourself fall against the sheets to look up at him.

Brady’s eyes soften for a moment, reaching up to brush your hair out of your eyes. “Hi,” he whispers, leaning down to steal a kiss.

“Hi,” comes your response. He steals another kiss before pulling away again, and you can't help but think that he looks beautiful like this.

I love you. I'm in love with you.

You want to say it, the voice inside you is screaming it. It’s screaming for you to say it, and Brady is looking at you almost like he wants you to too.

The feeling of his hands pushing your sweater up distracts you from your plight. Brady’s movement is slow, and he’s looking at you intensely, giving you time to stop him. You only nod, and the softness is gone as soon as it had come. You lift your arms to help him bring the material over your head. He tosses the sweater to the side, catching your wrists when you reach for him. He guides them back over your head, smirking as you suppress a shudder when he leans in a whispers against your mouth. “Be a good girl and keep your hands there princess.”

You nod quickly, grasping the sheets in anticipation. Another slap to your thigh has you rethinking.

“I’m sorry!” you gasp. “Yes, sir.”

Brady hums in acknowledgment, kissing down your throat until he’s staring up at you from the valley between your breasts. You whine softly when he pulls a nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing the harden peak before soothing it with his tongue. His hand is pinching and pulling at your other nipple, making your noises significantly louder. He alternates, playing with your nipples until they're swollen and sensitive and sore.

He sits back on his heels to look at you, hands on your knees now, sliding up your thighs. His eyes roam your body unabashedly, while his fingers play with the waistband of your panties. There's a burning look in his eyes as he says, “You're gorgeous. You're so fucking beautiful.”

You don't know why hearing him say it makes you tear up. Brady had told you that you were pretty before, that you cleaned up nice, always telling you how hot you were when he'd see you dressed up before events. He was your own personal hype man but he'd never called you beautiful.

Not like this.

Not like Matty.

Not like Matty.

The thought makes your blood run cold.

“Please,” you mewl, starting to reach for Brady before remembering what he told you. Your hands fly back above your head, twisting in the sheets, whispering, “I’m sorry, sir, I forgot.”

Brady smiles softly, slipping his finger under the waistband of your panties, tugging on it before letting it snap back against your skin. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss softly at your stomach. “Trying so hard to be good for me.” He shuffles himself backwards as he kisses his way down your body, sliding your panties down your legs at the same time until they've fallen to the floor.

“Wait,” you say softly, causing Brady to pause, his expression quizzical. “Please, I need you.”

Brady grins wickedly. “Just a taste princess.”

It turns out, ‘a taste’ actually means Brady edging you with his tongue until you were nearly crying. He's brought you to the brink three times now, each time getting you closer and closer before pulling away. At this point he's holding your hips down and your hands are as tangled in the sheets as you could get them, not wanting the repercussions of disobeying.

Brady’s tongue is sliding through your folds again when you finally break.

“Please!” you sob, tears finally sliding down your cheeks as your back arches from the pleasure. “Please, Brady, please, sir, please please, I- I need - please just - fuck - please.”

Brady hums against your cunt, the vibrations tearing a scream from your throat. Suddenly the warmth of Brady’s mouth is gone, leaving you chasing him with a buck of your hips. He pins you back down again easily, his lips glistening as he smirks. You hate the way the sleazy look on his face does it for you.

It reminds you of Matt.

You whine again, wiggling your hips as much as you could in Brady’s grip. “Please just fuck me,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. You feel his lips press against your hip, smiling against your skin.

“Anything my girl wants, she gets,” he murmurs against your skin.

My girl. The words echo over and over again in your head. My girl my girl my girl.

Two words you've been waiting years to hear come out of his mouth, and the only thing you could think of was how you liked it better when Matty said it.

Your eyes stay shut as Brady kisses up your body, fingertips dancing over your skin. His mouth finds yours, emptying your brain of all other thoughts but him.

“You ready for me, pretty girl?” he asks you, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek gently, wiping your tears away. Your eyes flutter open, to look at him, nodding as you bite your lip. His thumb tugs your lip out from between your teeth as you feel the tip of his dick brush against your thigh. You didn't even realize that he had taken off the rest of his clothes, but you weren't complaining. Not with him so close like this.

“Please,” you whimper, and after stealing another kiss, Brady sinks into your heat.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, gripping the back of your thigh to spread your legs even further. “You're so fucking tight, fuck you feel so good.” Once he’s bottomed out, Brady leans down to kiss you, swallowing your desperate noises.

He gives you little time to adjust, and really - you don't need it considering the way he tortured you with his mouth and fingers. You're whining into his mouth as his hips move against you, the drag off his cock inside you so fucking good after being denied like you were.

You're close already, and Brady knows, delivering sharp thrusts and hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars.

He finally breaks from your lips, breathing heavily as his hips slam into your cunt. “I'm so close,” you tell him, gripping the sheets above your head so hard you feel like you might rip them. “Please, please let me cum, sir, please.”

It seems like Brady finally thinks you've had enough torture, because he brings his hand from your thigh to your clit, rubbing quick tight circles. “You've been so good for me baby,” he grunts, his other hand holding him up so he can look down at you. “Come on baby, you can touch me now, come on princess, cum for me.”

That's all it takes to send you over the edge. Your hands come flying from above your head to grasp at Brady, his shoulders, his back, tangling in his hair, anything to just touch him. You cry out as your orgasm hits, your back arching under Brady as he relentlessly fucks you through it.

You faintly register Brady’s filthy encouragement in your ears, telling you how good you are for doing what he says, for not touching him this whole time, for cumming for him like this. You writhe against him as you feel him spill into you, grunting as he fucks into you, chasing his orgams with shallow, sloppy thrusts. It feels like you've been riding your high forever; your vision is blurry when you finally come down.

Brady’s breath is hot on your neck, his hands stroking your skin gently as the two of you catch your breath. He shushes you gently as you moan when he pulls out of you. Brady practically collapses next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest. He peppers kisses across your skin, nudging his nose against your cheek to grab your attention.

You can barely turn your head, suddenly so tired you feel like you'll pass out right that second. “Hi,” he murmurs, kissing you gently. You hum and bury your face in his neck.

“‘M sleepy,” you mumble against his skin, eliciting a soft laugh from him.

“Then sleep,” he says, before smirking devilishly, “don't worry there's lots more where that came from, but in the morning.” You snort at his words, squeezing the back of his neck before burying your fingers in his curls.

“Night, B,” you mumble.

“Goodnight, buttercup.”

-

Matthew was going to kill his brother. He was going to straight up murder him. On top of not being there to pick him up from the airport, he also didn't answer any texts or calls from Matt.

So yeah, when Matthew got home, he was going to kill Brady. When the Uber finally pulls up in front of him, Matthew is nearly halfway done with his plan to get away with it.

He fiddles with his phone as the driver pulls away from the curb, scanning the random notifications that he had popped up when he got off the plane. It's when he opens up Instagram that he really pays attention, the 3 stories in a row at the top of his feed catching his eye.

Taryn’s, yours, and Brady’s. Against his better judgement, he taps Taryn’s magenta-rimmed profile picture. The story takes a moment to load, but when it does, he sees a picture of you in front of the Tkachuk’s Christmas tree. You had your arms out in a ‘ta-da’ fashion, the fingers barely poking out through the sleeves of your sweater. Taryn’s caption reads “didn’t need an angel for the tree cause we already got @y/n/y/l/n”. He can't help but smile fondly, so distracted by how cute you look that he just stares at you until the time is up - but not before pressing on the screen so he could screenshot the photo.

Your first story was a repost of Taryn’s, a simple white heart emoji in the bottom corner. The second was a shot of the TV in the Tkachuk’s living room displaying the Grinch’s title. The caption reads “heart grows two sizes bigger when i’m home :)”. The location is tagged as St. Louis, with Taryn and Brady tagged in the corner of the photo. The third post makes his blood run cold, it's a video of you and Brady, your back against his chest as you lay on the couch, the caption the cross-eyed emoji and Brady’s handle. Brady is facing away from the camera in the beginning of the video, your eyebrows raised as you wait for him to notice. When he does he laughs and reaches for your phone. The video cuts off there.

Matthew taps the left side of his screen to replay it, an unpleasant feeling twisting in his gut. He doesn't want to watch Brady’s story, but he taps the right side of his screen anyways. It's a photo of you on the couch, one knee pulled up to your chest with the other in Brady’s lap, and a glass of wine in your hand. Your hair is piled into a messy bun on top of your head as you wink at the camera and make a peace sign with your free hand, tongue peaking out of the corner of your mouth.

Matt screenshots the picture.

He’s angry; angry because his brother left him stranded at the airport. Angry because he said he hadn't spoken to you either, that you didn't answer any of his texts and calls since that night. He's angry because Brady managed to get you back, and Matt didn't.

Matty’s angry because he loves you, and he's pretty sure you still love Brady.

When the car finally pulls up to the house, he’s almost relieved. He notes that the lights are off downstairs as he lets himself in, pausing when he sees your shoes still by the door. The glow of the TV is visible in the living room, and as Matt pads towards it, the uneasy feeling grows.

There's two partially filled glasses of wine on the coffee table, as well as yours and Brady’s phones. He taps on Brady’s phone, revealing the unread texts and unanswered calls from Matt, as well as an unread text from Chantal, telling Brady that he would have to be the one to pick up Matty from the airport.

The pit in Matt’s stomach only deepens as he climbs the stairs, duffle bag in hand. He goes slowly, trying to prolong his inevitable heartbreak, but it doesn't change what he sees at the top.

Brady’s bedroom door is half open, the light from the hallway streaming in.

Matthew knows it's a bad idea when he takes one, two, three steps and he's in front of Brady’s door. He takes a deep breath and pokes his head inside the room. The sight nearly knocks the wind out of him.

You're tucked under Brady’s arm, your nose squished against his cheek and your hand curled around his neck.  He can see the bare skin of your back and stomach pressed against Brady’s bare torso. A blanket covers the both of you from the waist down. Brady’s hair is a mess, and so is yours, and suddenly Matt feels nauseous.

He feels like he would do anything - anything - to make the feeling in his chest go away. It feels like pressure, too much pressure, in his chest, and he nearly clutches his heart. The blood is rushing in his ears, he can't breathe, he feels dizzy.

Why does it hurt so much?

Before he can think it through he’s stumbling to his room. He kicks the door shut behind him, tossing the duffle back on the floor near his bed. His hands are reaching for the backpack on his shoulders and pulling out his laptop before it even hits the ground. He doesn't even sit, placing the laptop on his bed and bending down to type into the search bar.

He barely pays attention to the final amount when he hits “confirm” - he has more money than he knows what to do with anyways. The moment it’s done he sighs, watching the Gmail notification light up on his phone.

“Flight Confirmation, December 23rd, 2020 11:25 pm

St. Louis, Missouri to Calgary, Canada”

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 12-Bookaholics

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Bookshop/Bartender AU)

Word Count: 1,515

Summary: You and Bucky try to get the ball rolling and explain your idea to Sam and Nat all while having a little fun :)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Happy Monday! Thank you for all your continued amazingness! Love you all! If anyone hasn’t been to the High Line you can check out the website here It’s one of my favorite places in the city and really is that beautiful! I like taking you on a little tour of NYC through this story, it helps with how badly I miss my city (we are doing well though so one thing at a time right!) All the pictures I use in my moodboards are real photos of these places. Here is the link for attaboy  again in case you want to see that too. Thank you all for reading! Much love to you always ❤❤❤

Warnings: Fluff, some super light smut (mostly implied), flirting, romantic fluff :)

Previous Chapters

Chapter 1: Enchantment

Chapter 2: Cookie Crumble

Chapter 3: Sweet Anticipation

Chapter 4: Read Between the Limes

Chapter 5: Secrets on the Shelf

Chapter 6: Love Between the Covers *

Chapter 7: Love Lines & Soul Finds

Chapter 8: Drunk in Love *

Chapter 9: Pour it onto the Page

Chapter 10: Recipe for Love *

Chapter 11: The Pages in Between 

When you awake the next morning it’s to the sound of more rain hitting the sky light, Bucky’s even breathing warm against your neck. You slowly shift and stretch to grab your phone. Seeing that it’s not even 6am you unlock the device and lazily search through your Pinterest, saving recipes that look worth trying.

“Looking up some new stuff to bake, sweetheart?” His voice is low and raspy from sleep and you love the sound, turning and smiling as he rubs his eyes. “I hope I didn’t wake you?” He curls his arms around your middle and pulls you against his chest, “nope.” You rest your head under his chin, closing your eyes and listening to the rain.

“How about we just stay up here forever. Forget work, read books, eat pizza…” You continue, your breath hitching as Bucky’s hand creeps under your shirt. “Listen to the rain…Bucky.” He rolls on top of you, gently pulling your shirt above your head. “What else?” he asks between kisses. “This. Lots and lots of this,” you whisper, shimming out of your shorts.

“How long do we have before you have to leave for work?” His fingers inch below the waistband of your underwear, easily slipping inside you. “Enough time,” is the last thing you say before his lips capture yours, swallowing your moans.

You find if hard to concentrate at work, every free minute your mind wanders to thoughts of the bookshop and your idea and to Bucky. It’s hard to shake the feeling of wanting to dive in headfirst and just do it, go all in. But you know you can’t. You must do this right. You shoot Bucky a quick text, ‘hey babe, want to talk to Sam this weekend? Maybe we can hang at the bar after closing and go over our idea?❤❤’

His reply seems enthusiastic and you smile. ‘Definitely!❤ I can’t stop thinking about it, especially being in the bookshop now. I keep imagining where we could put things and how to move things around and all that.😁😍’ Letting out a breath you let him know you’re excited and try to get back to work. The rest of the day is boring, and the work week drags, however, your nights with Bucky are anything but.

Saturday night rolls around and you and Nat stroll into the bar late. You wade through the crowd of already drunk people, searching for Bucky behind the bar. You spot him leaning against the back counter, his button down open at the front and his sleeves rolled up, the buttons looking like they may pop off any moment. His jeans do little to hide his thick thighs and perfect ass. Sam slides up next to him and you follow their line of sight over the bar to find two girls giggling at something they said.

“Hey Nat, I think our boys caught some attention,” you snicker, pointing their way. Nat raises her brow, whispering in your ear before heading to the other end of the bar. She makes her way to the bar, getting the attention of Peter. “Hey Pete, could you get y/n and I some shots please,” she asks, batting her eyelashes.

He nearly falls over, grinning wide at you both before looking nervously over at Bucky and Sam. “Uh, yea, sure of course ladies. What’ll it be?” You pretend to think it over for a second, “you know what, why don’t you pick for us? Whatever you think we’ll like. And make one for yourself so you can join us!” He simply nods, rushing off to make your shots. “Could he be any more adorable,” Nat whispers, giggling. “No. But could he be any more afraid of the boys?”

You both let out a laugh, having way too much fun and looking over at them. They’re staring, Sam with his arms crossed over his chest and Bucky with his hand on his hip, all four eyebrows raised in your direction. You smirk at Bucky just as Peter appears with the shots. “Thanks Pete, can’t wait to try these.” He lifts his shot up, clinking the small glasses with yours and Nat’s. You keep your eyes on Bucky while you down the cold liquid, slamming the glass down on the bar and licking your lips. “That was great, good choice, thanks.” Nat heartily agrees, sliding the glasses back and smiling at Sam.

“You’re welcome, can I get you anything else?” A large hand lands on Peter’s shoulder, Sam’s deep voice answering his question. “No, thanks Pete, we’ll take care of the girls from here on out.” You watch him visibly stiffen, shaking his head vigorously before practically running off in the other direction.

“No need to scare the pants off the kid, baby,” Nat coos, her smirk reappearing. “And it looks like you were handling those girls on the other side of the bar just fine from here.” Bucky and Sam look at each other and scoff before they start laughing. “So, that’s what this is about!? They’re Steve’s cousins that are visiting from out of town,” Sam says, eyeing Bucky before laughing again. “You were jealous!” Bucky adds, his eyes bright. “I love it.”

His smile is so wide you want to punch him and for a moment you and Nat are silent. “Well, how were we supposed to know! And we were only having a bit of fun! AND might I add, I was not jealous!” Nat chimes in, “but clearly you two were! Coming over here and scaring Peter half to death!” They start laughing again and Bucky leans over the bar to whisper in your ear, “I love you.” Sam throws Nat a wink and waves over the two girls who quickly head toward you. After introductions are made and everyone laughs over your misunderstanding you spend the rest of the night enjoying your new friends and having some drinks.

By the time 2am arrives and the bar closes you’re all tired but still willing to talk things over.  Sam cleans off a back table and grabs some waters. “Ok. Let’s hear this plan of yours,” he says, smiling brightly despite the time and fact that he’s been at work for almost 12 hours. Your heart swells. You love them all so much.

Before you start you reach into your bag, pulling out a small Tupperware. “Ok, but first, some cookies!” Sam whoops along with Bucky, two large hands grabbing for the container. Bucky looks to you, his mouth full of cookie, “go for it baby.” You hold his hand the whole time, laying out what you’ve come up with so far.

Nat’s smile never falters, and Sam’s excitement is clear as they listen to all you have to say. When you’re finally done, they naturally have questions which you and Bucky do your best to answer. “Listen, I think it could really work if you do it right. People love books. They love food. They love coffee. You just need to bring it all together,” Sam says, suggesting you set up a meeting with his friend Tony who owns several businesses and has a really good head for this stuff.

“He sounds like he could be a huge help,” you say excitedly. Sam nods, chewing his last cookie. “Oh definitely. He’s brilliant and honest and if anyone can help you navigate through this it’s him. And of course, us!” he adds, putting his arm around Nat. “Of course, guys! Did you tell Steve yet?” she asks. Bucky shakes his head no. “He and Peggy couldn’t make it tonight so they are going to stop by tomorrow, actually later today, so we can fill them in.”

When you finally leave the bar, it looks as if the sun is about to come up. “Summer is really here! I love how early the sun comes up these days. And how long it stays out,” you say, leaning into Bucky. He has his arm around your waist as the two of you walk slowly down the quiet street. Suddenly, he stops. “Hey, I have an idea. You wanna go on a little adventure before we head home?”

With a little squeeze to his middle you happily exclaim, “yes,” not needing to ask any questions as you follow him into the subway. About twenty minutes later you emerge back to the surface and see you’re at the High Line. “Oh, Bucky! I love it here!” He smiles down at you, walking up the steps. “I hope we can see what I want to see,” he whispers, holding your hand as you head down the path.

You reach a spot where you have a clear view of the water and Bucky sits on a bench, pulling you into his lap. It’s close to 6am and the sun is starting to peek over the horizon, the bright orange and pink hues dancing across the calm water. “Good morning,” he says against your ear, his eyes fixed on you instead of the rising sun. Turning your head, you kiss him softly. “It’s the most perfect morning.”

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @book-dragon-13 @buckys-broody-muffin @bucky-on-my-mind @bugsbucky @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah @hawksmagnolia @ikaris-whore @imgaril-lindru @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelandotherfandomimagines @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @scarletsoldierrr @softpeachbarnes​ @the-wayward-robot​ @throwmyheartawayagain​ @flyawaybay​ @amandatar-06​ @nd1998sc​ @yansi1923​ @captainchrisstan​ @vherriepie​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @when-the-hell-is-bucky​ @fire-flv​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @irishflutiegirl​ @rinthehufflepuff​ @moonybarnes​ @nordlysinthewoods​ @inflxmes @lauratang​ @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines​ @buchanansebba​ @emilylyoness​ @curlyred2020 @kaosera​ @breezy1415​ @metal-armed-cuddly-dork​ @devynsdiary​

[lamesiscanon]

Mistletoe

Day 5 of the holiday prompt list posted by @remus-john-lupin  I also did not read this again for mistakes so pardon those... anyways,

 The plan was christened as Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him. Or as James called it, Desperation at its Finest. It came together on a rather ordinary Wednesday evening in the dorm, where Sirius was lazily flicking sparks at James’ feet as the other boy slept. The appeal came from the quiet giggles and words like “Lily, stop that tickles” James would mumble sleepily, delighting Sirius to no end. This was prime blackmail material that Sirius would most definitely use as an advantage in the next coming weeks. 

Sirius had to bite his sleeve to keep his laughter from waking him up when James started puckering his lips against his pillow. Though, it turned out to be all for naught when Peter threw the door open with a bang. 

“Whazzat?” James sat up on his bed with his wand held out, though he held onto the wrong end. Sirius quickly hid his own under his duvet and turned his attention towards Peter, who was out of breath and full of sweat. 

“SIRIUS!” Peter shouted in a way of greeting, dumping his bag on the floor and slamming the door shut once again.

“PETE!” Sirius met his words with equal enthusiasm, though he had no idea what this was about. 

“JAMES!” James joined in, always ready to match his friends energy. Peter ignored him.

“Sirius, I just overheard a conversation in the library and Emmeline Vance is planning on asking Remus to the Christmas dance.” Peter let out in one breath as he searched through his trunk, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. 

“What?” Sirius and James both yelled in a panic, to which Peter explained everything he had overheard in the Library. Emmi’s Hufflepuff roommates had apparently talked her into asking Remus to the dance after Emmi herself complained about not knowing who to go with. Sona Pearce had suggested Remus because he was tall, kind, smart, and most importantly, mysterious as hell. The rest of the Hufflepuff girls had giggled at that, talking excitedly about how quiet and secretive Remus was. It was decided then, and declared by Emmeline that she would ask Remus Lupin to the Christmas dance. Peter had immediately run out of the library all the way to Gryffindor tower. 

And so that’s how Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him was born. Peter, as the scribe, James as the voice of reason, and Sirius as the anxiety ridden idiot in love. Together, they came up with the perfect plan to squash all of Emmeline Vance’s hopes and dreams. (Though, Sirius didn’t think she’d be too sad in the end, since she apparently didn’t have an actual crush on Remus.)

Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him (Desperation at its Finest) ((Shut the fuck up, James))

Step 1: Make sure Remus avoids running into Emmi Vance at all times. 

Step 2: Subtly show Remus that I, Sirius Black, am perfect boyfriend material.

Step 3: Ask Remus to the Christmas dance.

Step 4: Get Remus under the charmed mistletoe and kiss him until he forgets his name. (Stick your tongue down his throat) (Gettin’ Jiggy with it) (Peter, for the love of God, please never say that again.)

Step 5: Ask Remus on a date, become boyfriends, fall in love, get married, live happily ever after.

The first steps were surprisingly easy. Sirius managed to execute them without any complications, which was rare for a Marauder’s plan. The map came in handy when the first step was still in motion. All it took was a quick glance at the map after each class to make sure that they wouldn’t run into Emmeline on their way to the next class. A couple of times it was unavoidable, but Sirius would usually engage Remus in a conversation so he wouldn’t notice Emmeline trying to get his attention. And for the one time that Emmeline actually tried to come up to Remus and talk to him, Peter set off a well-timed dung bomb that set everyone running for fresh, clean air. He’d gotten detention for that, but Sirius was grateful enough to finish his potions homework for him for the next week. 

Step two was just as easy since Sirius usually complimented Remus on a daily basis and would help him with Transfiguration and Runes (the only classes Remus didn’t have the highest marks). He stepped up the game just a little by giving Remus his favorite sweets from a secret Hogsmeade run and organized his part of the dorm room before and after the full. Remus hadn’t acted like it was out of the ordinary, but he did thank Sirius and even gave him one of those secret smiles the two usually shared, so Sirius counted it as a very successful win.

Sirius was almost sure he failed the whole thing when it came to the third step, though. Actually asking Remus out brought up nerves that he usually only felt right before quidditch games. It ended up being a spur of the moment thing when the two were alone in the dorm, when Remus was getting dressed and Sirius was pretending not to watch. Sirius blurted the question before he could prepare himself for it. He thought the plan was completely fucked when Remus had only stared at him for a moment, confusion and concern evident all over his face. Sirius almost took it back, was about to play it off as a joke when Remus smiled and said “Sure, Pads. That sounds like a lot of fun.”

In the days leading up the the Christmas dance, Sirius learned that the fourth step wasn’t going to be as easy. Regular mistletoe wasn’t proving to be enough, so Sirius had to resort himself to charmed mistletoe, which backfired horribly when Peter had accidentally gotten stuck with him. Much to both of their disappointment, the charmed magic on the stupid plant didn’t settle for any cheek kisses. 

The one who the charmed mistletoe was actually meant for had jumped out of the way at the last second, but Peter hadn’t been so lucky. It frustrated Sirius, that Remus seemed to have memorized the layout of all mistletoe decorations around the castle and avoided it well. So far Sirius had been resigned to kissing Both Prewett twins (separate occasions, thank Merlin), Dorcas Meadowes, Sona Pearce, Isaac Ure, and poor Peter all because Remus was apparently afraid of mistletoe.

The actual day of the Christmas dance made Sirius feel excited, nervous, and frustrated in one go, but his hopes were up that tonight would be the night he could get Remus alone and under the damned magical plant. 

Remus was getting ready in the boy’s dorm while Sirius was dragged up to Lily’s because apparently it was “more romantic” to wait and see each other until they met up at the common room entrance. At least Sirius got the perk of having Marlene do his eyeliner.

As reluctant as he was to admit it, Lily was actually right about the extra romantic thrill of seeing Remus after walking out of the Fat Lady’s portrait. He cleaned up well, with a set of dark maroon robes that went well with his dirty blonde curls and honey eyes. Merry fucking hippogriffs, Sirius could barely manage from swooning straight to the ground when those eyes met his. And that stupid, beautiful smile that Remus gave him when those honey eyes took in every inch of Sirius. He was completely fucked.

Sirius was fucked when Remus laughed as the teachers took the first dance, he was fucked when Remus ate a sugar quill from the refreshments table, and he was fucked when a hand grabbed his to pull him out on the dance floor for their own dance. The night was one of the best of Sirius’ life, yet he still hadn’t managed to get Remus under the mistletoe. He got distracted by dancing with Remus once the music turned into more upbeat stuff, and then they met up with James, Peter, and their dates and sat around for hours laughing and talking about other couples they could see on the dance floor.

James nudged Sirius at one point, motioning to where Emmeline was dancing with Benjy Fenwick. Apparently Emmi Vance had a type, which was tall and smart bookish boys.

Sirius got so caught up in joking with Remus and Lily that he didn’t hear the announcement for the last song. Lily had been dragged away by her date, leaving Remus and Sirius alone at their table near the refreshments. 

“Come on, let’s finish the Christmas dance with a bang.” Remus said, holding out his hand for Sirius to take. Sirius was so excited to dance with Remus that he didn’t even process the fact that this was the end of the night and he still hasn’t kissed Remus.

In the middle of their jumping around and screaming, Remus pulled out his wand and made an unrecognizable motion to Sirius, but before he could ask, Remus put his wand away and continued to dance. The crowd cried for an encore when the song ended, nobody wanted to leave just yet. The band relented, though they announced that this was going to be a slow dance. Sirius shyly took Remus’ offered hand and led them both across the floor in twirls and slow sways.

The night was actually perfect. Even in Sirius didn’t get to kiss Remus, he always had tomorrow, or the next day, or even the next. He just wanted to be in this moment with Remus as they swayed and laughed, completely oblivious to everyone else around them.

“So I found something interesting today.” Remus spoke, jolting Sirius from his thoughts.

“Oh yeah?” Sirius asked, curious as to what Remus found and thought interesting enough to bring up during their dance. 

Remus smiled, reaching into the pocket of his maroon dress robes and pulled out a small piece of parchment that was torn at the edges. It sort of looked familiar...

“Sirius Black’s Five Step Method to Get Remus Lupin to Date Him.” Remus read aloud. “I thought it sounded quite interesting, so I picked it up.”

“Moony, no! You weren’t supposed to see that!” Sirius let of Remus’ waist to grab the parchment out of his hands, but Remus was quick at dodging the attempts. 

“Oh Merlin...” Sirius groaned, completely embarrassed. He wished that whatever deity was above would just smite him right then and there. 

“Well, it has my name on it so I didn’t have any qualms about reading it...” Remus cleared his throat and shook out the parchment to prepare reading the rest. 

“Step one, make sure Remus avoids running into Emmi Vance at all times. This one was interesting, since I have no idea what Emmeline has to do with any of this.” 

“She was going to ask you to the dance...” Sirius muttered. He was pretty sure this is the reddest his face has ever been, and there was no way to stop this torture. 

“Ah, I see. Step two,” Remus continued, “Subtly show that I, Sirius Black, and perfect boyfriend material.”

All Sirius could do was smack his hand to his face and keep wishing that he could somehow disappear from this whole mess. 

“Step three, ask Remus to the Christmas dance.” Remus read, sounding more amused as the moment dragged on. “Now, since we’re both here at said dance, I can only assume you deemed the first three steps successful, right?” 

Sirius didn’t answer, but Remus apparently wasn’t actually looking for one, he just continued reading. 

“Step four, get Remus under the charmed mistletoe and kiss him until he forgets his name.” 

They had stopped dancing at this point. Sirius was pretty sure it was because of him being to embarrassed to do anything but cover his face and listen as Remus read his own plan aloud to him. He felt rooted to the spot, no matter how much he wanted to run away and hide until graduation. Maybe the room of requirement would be a good place to live until then...

“I laughed and James’ and Peter’s inputs here. And suddenly, all your mistletoe mishaps made sense. It was hard to watch actually, nearly crushed all my hopes, but when I found this it all started to make sense.” Remus waved the parchment again and Sirius heard it flap. 

“Remus, please stop. I’m so sorry, okay? I promise I can just avoid you if you want that, but- wait? Did you say I crushed your hopes?” Sirius finally took his hand off his face, looking at Remus for the first time since he started reading. He expected to find disgust, but instead he saw Remus smiling that same, sweet, secret smile that they shared between the two of them. 

“Well, duh.” Remus shrugged, still holding that damned piece of parchment. “I don’t think anyone would like to watch the guy they fancy kiss six other people.” 

Sirius could only gape while his brain floundered for words to say. 

“You- you fancy me?” It came out as a whisper. 

“Of course I do, you daft mutt. Only for the past two years or so. How could I not?” Remus smiled again, and Sirius realized that the way he was looking at him was the same way Sirius would look at Remus when he thought the other boy wasn’t looking. Oh. This revelation brought back all of Sirius’ confidence, it seemed. He put his hand back on Remus’ waist to pull him just a little bit closer and plastered a smirk on his face. 

“Well then, what am I going to do about step four? It’s been bloody hard to check that one off, you know.” 

Remus laughed, and then pointed at the ceiling above him, revealing a single spot of charmed mistletoe. Well, that explains why Sirius felt so rooted to the ground earlier, then. And it explained Remus’ random wand movement earlier.

Sirius’ thoughts were cut off again, but he was more pleased by the cause this time. The pair of softest lips he’d ever felt were pushed against his own, and he hummed, perfectly content. 

Remus was kissing him, Remus was kissing him!

The song ended, and people around them applauded the band for their night of well-played music but Sirius and Remus didn’t even notice. Their own thought were filled with only each other. It was the best night of Sirius’ life. 

“Well,” Remus broke away, breathless from their kiss but still smiling, “You’ve already asked me out, and you got your kiss, so what’s next?”

Sirius laughed and pretended to think about it for a moment, head tilting side to side. Remus smacked him on the shoulder to hurry him along. 

“I’m pretty sure the next step was to become boyfriends.” Sirius beamed. 

“And happily ever after will come later.” Remus agreed, and then his lips were back on Sirius’ while both boys were completely oblivious to the rest of the people around them. 

[sorrelchestnut]

EVERYBODY’S PICKIN’ UP ON THAT FELINE BEAT, PART 37

holy shit I finished a scene.  We’re really close to the end now, y’all.  That being said: this definitely ends on a cliffhanger.  Fair warning.

Part 1.  Part 2.  Part 3.  Part 4.  Part 5.  Part 6.  Part 7.  Part 8.  Part 9.  Part 10.  Part 11. Part 12.  Part 13.  Part 14.  Part 15.  Part 16.  Part 17.  Part 18.  Part 19. Part 20.  Part 21.  Part 22. Part 23. Part 24. Part 25. Part 26.  Part 27. Part 28. Part 29. Part 30. Part 31. Part 32. Part 33.  Part 34. Part 35. Part 36.

Title: everybody’s picking up on that feline beat Author: Sorrel Fandom: Fallout 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: None Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor Series: Part 3 of everybody wants to be a cat

Coffee helps; fresh air and sunshine helps more.  For someone who spends a significant majority of her life inside, underground, nocturnal, and/or just generally skulking around in the shadows, Whisper can be surprisingly solar-powered at times.  By the time they're over the river she's in almost obnoxiously high spirits, singing "Anything Goes" in a squeaky falsetto that makes him think longingly of the roll of duct tape in his pack.

"The world has gone mad today, and good's bad today, and black's white today, and day's night today-"

"Whisper, I swear to God-"

"And that gent today you gave a cent today once had sev-er-al chateaus!"

"Alright, Cole Porter, that's enough."  She grins wider and opens her mouth, and he hastily slaps a hand over it before she can start the next verse.  "No."

Her lips tickle against his palm as she grumbles, "You're no fun."

"What, because I like living?  You're going to bring down every raider in the greater Boston area, the way you're caterwaul- ow!  Fuck!"

She tucks her thumbs in the straps of her pack and gives him a cheerful, empty-headed smile, showing off the pearly white teeth she just sunk into the base of his thumb.  "Talk shit, get hit."

"Jesus, you're aggressive."  He studies his hand but doesn't find any sign of bleeding, just a neat row of stark white tooth marks rapidly flushing back pink.  "Whatever happened to licking my hand to gross me out?"

"Sometimes I can really tell you were an only child," she informs him, shaking her head faux-mournfully.  "You gotta go big or go home, that's my motto."

"Good thing we're going home, isn't it?"  When she squints at him, he smiles sunnily and holds his injured hand a couple inches above her head.  "I mean, 'big' isn't exactly your strong suit, so..."

She launches herself at him with a war cry.

Bickering aside, they straighten up when they come into sight of Diamond City, falling into character as a pair of road-weary mercenaries coming off an all-night hike and desperate for a shower and some sleep.  (Which, to be fair, isn't that far off from the truth, all things considered.)  They're both in costume already, not that that took long.  All Whisper had to do was slick back her hair and throw on a pair of sunglasses and hey presto: Olivia Bailey, ruins-rover extraordinaire.  Next to her all Deacon has to do is look suitably grizzled and road-weary, so he pretty much just tossed the least-disgusting raider's jacket on over his travel clothes and smeared some dust artistically through his stubble and called it a goddamn day.

It certainly works well enough on the second-shift gate guard, a pockmarked woman with nicotine stains on her fingers.  She waves them through with a disinterested nod, already going back to her book before they even clear the gate.  Deacon squashes down the contrary impulse to make some kind of scene and just nods back, professional and cool, as he wraps an arm around Whisper's shoulder.  She gives him a little sideways look that says I know what you're doing but doesn't bother to pull away until they're in the tunnel.

Deacon looks around and then back to her, pointedly.  Whisper huffs a laugh.

"What now?"

"Nothing," he says, and waggles his eyebrows.  "It's just… here we are again.  Where it all started.  Back to the site of our fateful first meeting."

Her eyes narrow.  "Weren't you the one who said-"

"Mm, yeah, but I've had time to think about it, and I think you made a compelling point.  First contact is definitely the first one that counts."

"You just don't want to 'fess up on just how long you were following me around."

"Why, partner, I'm hurt that you would think of such a thing," he says, and moves swiftly on before she can call him on the obvious evasion.  "You know, you keep bringing me back here, I'm going to start thinking you've got a secret romantic streak."  She gives him a look.  "Very secret."

"That's me, all hearts and flowers," says quite the most ruthlessly practical woman Deacon's ever met.  "Besides, if I was going to start up with romantical remembrances at this late date, that wouldn't be the one I'd pick.  I was so sleep-deprived I'm lucky I remembered my own name."

"Couldn't tell to look at you," Deacon says, in massive understatement.  She was all easy swagger and magazine-cover grin, on her way to bigger and better things.  She sure as shit didn't look like she was running on the ragged edge of her endurance - but then, he knows better than most just how well she can lie with a smile.

She glances over at him as they break out of the tunnel, her gaze shrewd over the rim of her shades.  "You remember it pretty well, huh?"

Nope, nuh-uh, not going there.  "Your hair was longer," Deacon says, tweaking the end of one of her curls in a transparent bid for distraction.  "I remember that for sure."

"Well, yeah," she says, ducking neatly around a kid that seems really intent on wherever she's running.  "You told me to cut it."

"I did?"  He definitely doesn't remember that.  "When?"

"When we were prepping for the Covenant op.  You said blonde, I said I had to grab some bleach, and you gave me that 'oh honey' look you do when people are being particularly stupid and told me to just cut it off, you had a spare wig lying around someplace."

That does sound like him.  "And you just did it?" he says, because Whisper is a lot of things, but 'obedient' sure as shit isn't one of them.

"You were brandishing a knife when you said it," she admits.  "It seemed easier to give in than argue."

Yeah, that definitely sounds like him.  Especially then: that must've been, what, their first week together?  Back then everything was one long haze of exhaustion, staggering from one crisis to the next with barely enough time to take a shit.  Hauling her into the Covenant op was a desperation play, pure and simple: he needed backup, and anyone had to be better than Glory.  He hadn't known, then, what she could do with nothing more than a smile and a little room to work.

Though he figured it out pretty damn quick.

"I'd say it worked out," he says, and tweaks her dark hair again.  "You do make a fetching blonde."

She gives him a look over the tops of her shades, knowing and a bit amused.  "They do have more fun."

Aaaand now he's thinking about their first time, that silver dress pushed up around her thighs, blonde wig spilling across the mattress above her and blue eyes begging him in the dark.  He clears his throat.  "You want to go talk to Valentine?"

"In a bit," she says, and wraps her arm around his waist.  He automatically puts his arm around her in turn, and she leans her head on his shoulder, a picture-perfect image of a lovesick spouse.  "Need to make the rounds, hit up a few of the merchants first.  It'd be weird if I didn't."

"God forbid we look weird," he agrees, and laughs at her elbow in his stomach.

~*~

She does break off eventually, slips away to discuss things with Valentine and leaves him with a key and strict instructions to take care of dinner.  Deacon makes a quick loop of his own, touching base with the runners they placed last time and offloading some of their scav while he's at it.  Myrna's girl has been promoted to working the afternoon shift solo, and is more than happy to take a few extra minutes dickering in order to fill him in on the local gossip.  He rounds it off with a visit to the Dugout where the cocky one is still serving drinks - Deacon makes a note to collect the ten caps from Whisper later - and picks up some dinner to go on his way out.  Never let it be said he can't follow orders when it suits him.

He's setting out the plates when Whisper follows him in just a few minutes later with a slammed door and a cheerful, "Hallo the house!" from the far end of her little warehouse.

"Kitchen!" he calls back, and a moment later she appears, weaving her way through the stacked boxes and dropping a noticeably emptier pack on the floor by the stove.

"Need a hand?"

The food's pretty much done, so he tilts his head to the table with a hopeful, "Something to drink?"

"I've got just the thing," and she grabs her pack again, fishing around inside until she comes up with a couple bottles of Bobrov's homebrew.  "I tried to catch you at the Dugout but Vadim said you just left.  Good enough?"

"We-ell, everyone knows a dry white pairs best with seafood, but for day-old mirelurk I suppose it will just have to do."

"You're trying to ruin my appetite but it's not working," she informs him, nose in the air.  "I'm so hungry I'd eat a mirelurk raw."

He laughs and nudges in behind her as she turns to grab a bottle opener.  "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that.  You know it's only the best for my girl."

"Flatterer," she says, nothing in her voice now but laughter.  "You talk any sweeter, I'm gonna be forced to check those lips for honey."

"Aw, babe.  You say the - ha ha - sweetest things."  He buries his nose in the back of her neck and inhales.  "I get the cigarettes, but why do you smell like one of Tom's experiments?  Hot metal and burnt wiring," he clarifies, when she gives him a truly weird look.

"Oh, I stopped by Piper's after I talked to Nick," she says, all offhand as if she's not talking about the biggest gossip in the Commonwealth.

Deacon unpeels himself from her back and takes her by the shoulders.  "Whisper," he says, seriously.  "Do we need to have a conversation about operational security?  Because I feel like you may have been out that day."

"Oh, so you want her to come by and harangue me in person?  Because that is one hundred percent what she'd do if she heard I was in town and didn't go see her first."

Okay, so maybe she has a point.  The thought of Piper fucking Wright showing up at his door - well, Whisper's door, whatever - demanding to know his intentions toward her friend… Yeah, no.  That's gonna be a haaaard pass.

Whisper grins at him, the devil in her eyes.  He knows that look.  "Whisper-"

"Ohhhh, I see what this is about."

"Fear," he assures her, trying to head whatever this is off at the pass, "this is a very healthy and reasonable level of fear," but she's on her way to a punchline and won't be deterred.

"You're a fan!" she declares, over his groan of protest.  "Aww, sweetheart, why didn't you say something earlier?  I could totally arrange an introduction for you."

"Ahhh, no thanks," Deacon manages, through the bolt of terror that thought inspires.  "Little-known fact, spies are in fact allergic to reporters?  Like, clinically.  The hives are brutal."

She takes pity on him and gives way with a laugh, her eyes crinkling up at the corners.  "Don't worry, babe, I'll protect you."

"You're the best."

"And don't you forget it."  She pops open one of the bottles one-handed, handing it off to him with a cheery flourish.  "Besides, you don't wanna bitch too much about my girl Piper.  Her caps bought you this booze."

"I take it back, she's my new favorite person.  After your radiant self, of course."  He takes a swig and passes it back, enjoying the flush of boozy heat down through his chest as he turns back to the stove.  After a moment's consideration, he adds a couple extra tatos to the pan.  If they're drinking Bobrov's then he definitely wants to lay down a hearty base.  "Something interesting afoot?"

"Mhm?"

"Your payout from Wright.  Anything I should know about?"

She wobbles her flat hand side-to-side, a wordless eh.  "Not really.  Just a side project I've been working on."

Interesting.  It's not as if they tell each other everything they get up to - he certainly has any number of moving parts at any given moment she's not read in on, and this business with Hancock gave him a good idea about how much he doesn't know about her adventures - but the fun stuff, yeah, that's usually share and share alike.  Then again, maybe it's a leftover from her little enforced vacation back in August.  He's mostly kept his nose out of whatever she was up to those weeks in hopes she'll do him the same courtesy, so there's a gap in his intel.

"Very mysterious," he teases, nudging a little.  "C'mon, not even a hint for your faithful partner?"

She refuses to be nudged, only smiles faintly and hunches one shoulder into a lopsided shrug.  "You can read it in the paper tomorrow like everyone else."

"Way harsh."

"That's me, cruel and unusual."  She passes him back a plate with an absent kiss to his scruffy cheek.  "C'mon, quit fondling that pot holder and get me some supper.  I'm starving."

~*~

It's a good night, maybe the best he's had in a while.  Deacon sort of figured she'd be distracted, mind on her mission tomorrow, but instead it's the opposite: for the first time in what seems like weeks, he has her full and undivided attention, and he basks in it like winter sunshine.  They trade stories and quips, mostly things they've told each other a dozen times over but still fresh, still funny, still so much fun to watch her trying out a new spin, a new angle.  She's so fucking good at that, always has been.  Yet another thing Deacon never needed to teach her, but damn does he never get tired of watching her reinvent herself on the fly.

Deacon, for his part, finds himself mugging shamelessly for her attention, chasing her approval as fervently as any junkie he's ever pretended to be.  And unlike a junkie Deacon gets what he's craving in spades, because she's as generous with her smiles as she is with her stories, lounging back in her chair with her glass in her hand, thighs sprawled wide and her voice gone syrup-slow with that insinuating smirk that only ever spurs him on.

Later, he doesn't entirely remember how they end up in bed.  The booze turns everything smeary and soft-focus, like light coming in through a stained-glass window, and his memory preserves only a series of snapshots: pulling Whisper into his lap, her startled yelp of laughter muffled with his mouth.  Making out on the landing, one foot braced a step down to put him closer to her height, his fingers busy on her shirt buttons and hers on his belt buckle.  Tumbling into bed in a snarl of limbs, laughingly disentangling them until Whisper tugs him up over her in the dark.  Burying his face in the sweat-slicked curve of her neck as he works his cock inside of her, her blunt nails scoring lines down the length of his back and her heels digging into the backs of his thighs to urge him on.  The flicker of the candlelight playing across her lush mouth and her dark, shadowed eyes, her damp hair clinging to her forehead as she tosses her head back against the pillows.  The low breathy rasp of her voice, "Deacon," murmured against his ear, "Deacon, Deacon, please-"

And then when he wakes up, he's alone.

The radio downstairs is playing “The Wanderer,” and Deacon lies there for a moment, listening to the clatter of the rain against the windows, experiencing an overwhelming surge of deja vu.

Then he hauls himself out of bed, picks up his boots, and goes in search of his wayward accomplice.

Unlike last time, there's no pint-sized partner clattering around in the kitchen, cooking breakfast and dancing around like temptation on two legs.  The room is cool and dim, only the faint mid-morning sunshine straggling in through an upper window to light the way, and the only sign of habitation is the soft strains of the radio.  Deacon does a quick check in the warehouse section just in case - have the boxes been breeding back there? - but the only sign of life in here is him.  Most damningly of all, Whisper's pack is gone from the hook beside the door, leaving his looking lopsided next to the empty space where its partner used to be.

Do not project onto an inanimate object, Deacon my lad, he tells himself, and checks the counter next to the radio, where he previously saw a pad and a pencil half-buried under a precarious stack of ammo boxes.  Sure enough, there's a note there, torn loose from the pad and folded into thirds with John scrawled across the front in unfamiliar handwriting that must belong to Liv.

She's just keeping cover, not stupid enough to write anything else out here in the open where anyone could walk in and see it, but Deacon still stares at it for a long moment, that single syllable knocking around somewhere at the bottom of his ribs.  Then he shakes his head at himself, reaches out, and unfolds the note.

hey handsome, you looked so peaceful i couldn't bring myself to wake you.  at least one of us should get to sleep in, and nick had me up with the sun.  (you know what he's like when he's on a case!)  shouldn't take long though, just a quick run down to goodneighbor and fingers crossed we'll be back by supper.  take care of my best guy while i'm gone.  xoxo, liv

The radio changes to “One More Tomorrow,” and Deacon glares at it as he folds up the note.  Reading between the breezy, heavily fictionalized lines, it's clear enough she decided to handle this Kellogg business solo.  Which is… fair enough, he supposes, but something about it doesn't sit square.  Did she think he would have told her no, if she asked him to stay put?  He thought he made it pretty clear the whole thing was hers to handle or not as she saw fit.  Or maybe she just thought it'd be too awkward, having him up in her business like that?  Maybe after their last op, she's about had her fill of personal.  He couldn't blame her if that's the case, but he hopes she knows the last thing he'd ever want to do is make things harder for her.

Well, there's not much he can do about it either way, not with her at least a few hours ahead of him, judging by the sun, and definitely not with her clear instruction to sit tight.  Waiting isn't much his favorite part and he didn't really plan to be hanging out in Diamond City all day, but Deacon's an adaptable fellow; he'll find a way to keep himself occupied.

The market is bustling at this hour of the morning, and Deacon lets the crowd carry him along, thinking vaguely about picking up some noodles for breakfast and then maybe having a wander around.  It's not great for his cover to spend so much time out and about on his own, but with the right sidelong look most people will probably assume she's sleeping off a wild night, which would be great for his ego, at least.  Besides, there's really no substitute for market gossip when it comes to keeping a pulse on the goings-on in the Commonwealth, which is what he plans to tell Dez if she gives him shit for the wasted day.  Not that she will, because if Deacon has his way she'll never hear about any of this, but he likes having a contingency plan in place.  Makes him feel all nice and comfy.

It's when he's looping around the counter in search of an open stool that he catches the familiar sound of Piper Junior hawking her wares at full volume.  Which is funny, 'cause by his calculation they're not due for another issue for at least a week.  Normally Piper's pretty regular with the print, except-

Deacon gets a sinking sensation in his chest.

-except when she has something too juicy to wait and damn it, Whisper, what the hell are you up to?

Normally the last place he wants to be is anywhere near someone named Wright, but since his partner has been up to shenanigans without bothering to inform him first, he figures that in this case 'better safe than sorry' means getting out ahead of whatever nonsense Whisper's been cooking up rather than running the other way.  He makes sure to pull his cap low over his eyes, hitches his pack higher on his shoulders, and sidles over towards the Public Occurrences like he just doesn't have anything better to do.

"Extra, extra, read all about it!  Minutemen General has the tell-all of the century!"

Oh, it's Minutemen business.  Geez, why didn't she just say so?  If she's running some propaganda job for Garvey, the last thing he'd want to do is get in her way.  It was obvious they needed something after the trip to the Slog the other week, and throwing Piper at the problem is probably the most efficient way to get the word out.  Half the damn Commonwealth reads her paper at some point or another, even if it's just so they can tell themselves how wrong she is.

Still, Whisper did tell him he'd find out today, so she probably expects him to read up on whatever it is.  He snatches a paper off the top of the stack and flips it over, scanning for the headline.

Woman out of Time: Savior of the Minutemen Tells All About Life Before the Bomb!

"-not the current General," Little Wright's saying, when Deacon manages to stop staring at the paper and drag his attention back to the real world.  "The first one, the one that retook the Cast- hey!"

Deacon finds the paper snatched right from his hands, a pint-sized version of a familiar glare beaming up at him.  "You gotta pay before you read," Little Wright informs him.  "We're not running a charity here!"

"Uh, right," says Deacon, who still feels like he's hearing everything underwater, slow-motion and echoing strangely.  "What's the deal with this General, then?"

"Didn'tcha see the headline?  She's from before the War!  Vault froze her in cryo, right here in the Commonwealth!"

Vault 111.  Oh, fuck.   Ohhhh fuck.

"So you gonna buy or just stand there and stare?"  Little Wright brandished the paper at him.  "Hot off the presses!  Only ten caps, and you can be the first to know!"

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (15/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

Rating: Mature

a/n: And the weekend shenanigans continue for these crazy kids 😘😘

ao3: beginning | current

Found on Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

-/-

“Do we have any more chocolate?” Emma asks, standing from her chair and walking toward the folding table where all of their food is spread out. “Or did we eat it all?”

“I think we’re out of chocolate, but there are some more marshmallows,” Elsa tells her.

“Damn,” Emma mutters before turning around and plopping back in her seat. “I love those, could eat the entire bag so my stomach, like, expands forever, but all I really wanted was a Hershey’s bar. Do we have the stuff to make hot chocolate inside?”

“Killian was in charge of food,” Anna suggests. “Ask him.”

Emma glances around the fire to look at the faces that are illuminated by the flames, but there’s one that’s missing.

Where the hell did he go?

“Has anyone seen Killian?”

Ruby whistles and stumbles a bit. She has had far too much whiskey, and Mulan is going to have a great time getting her into bed tonight without her flopping on the floor first.

“Looking for lover boy so you can make out with him again?”

“You, my friend, are drunk,” Emma sighs, placing her hands on Ruby’s shoulders and steering her back to her seat. “You need to stay away from the fire and the water, okay?”

Ruby falls back into her seat and sticks her bottom lip out. “Why do you have to ruin all of my fun?”

“Because you’ve had more than enough fun tonight.”

“So much fun,” Ruby giggles, resting her head on Mulan’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you actually kissed Jones.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Emma rolls her eyes and look over at Mulan, who is shaking her head from side to side. “You gonna make sure she doesn’t fall into the fire?”

“I will try my best.”

Emma nods and walks away, passing by David and Mary Margaret, who ask her where she’s going. She says to see if she can find anything to make hot chocolate in the kitchen, which is only a half truth. She does stop in the kitchen first, rifling through cabinets and the fridge to see if there’s anything good, but most of it looks like food that’s waiting to be cooked tomorrow. So she grabs a bottle of Gatorade that she is definitely going to need tomorrow and starts heading upstairs so she can grab her stuff to shower and find Killian. He’s not in the bedroom when she walks in, so she figures maybe he went back out. He was probably only gone to go to pee or something anyway.

Emma grabs her bag from the floor, shuffling through it to find a pair of shorts and a t-shirt as well as her shampoo and conditioner, and once she grabs all of it, she walks back downstairs to the hallway bathroom. It takes a few minutes for her to figure out the shower. It goes back and forth between scalding and freezing, and she eventually settles on almost-freezing, quickly going through her routines and washing her hair before jumping out and wrapping her hair in a towel before getting dressed and finishing her nightly routine.

The towel around her hair drops when she bends down to pick up her clothes from earlier today, and instead of putting it back on, she hangs it over the shower door and lets her hair fall down her back. She’ll figure out what to do with it later.

The light is on in the bedroom when she gets back to it, and Killian is now in bed, his back propped against the small headboard and his phone in his hand.

“Hey, where have you been?”

“I took a shower in Liam’s bathroom. Couldn’t figure out how to get the bloody shower in that hall bathroom to work.”

“Me either. I basically took a shower in ice water.”

Emma drops her bag, and reaches up to grab her hair, twisting it around into a bun on the top of her head. Then she turns back toward the beds, and while she could easily climb up the ladder to get to her own bed, she’s not ready for that quite yet. So, instead, she walks over to the bed, puts her knee down on the bottom mattress, and settles herself over Killian’s lap while he still taps through his phone.

Sighing, she leans down and presses her mouth against the underside of his jaw, tasting his clean skin and the scratch of his scruff before trailing her lips down to his ear, nibbling in the spot she knows he likes all while her hips gently roll against his.

“I was thinking…”

“As you say, dangerous thing that.”

She bites down, hard, on his ear, and she hears his phone lock before there’s a gentle thud on the ground. “Shut up and listen.”

He grumbles, there’s some kind of curse, but really, she has no idea what he said.

At this point in time, she doesn’t care.

“I was thinking that we’re up here, separated from the rest of the group, and while we didn’t get a big, comfy bed like everyone else, it doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.”

Emma dips her head down, nosing along his neck and down to his t-shirt, moving the material away from his skin until she can worry a mark against his collarbone. Or, at least, the beginnings of one that will fade in an hour. She doesn’t want them to get into another hickey situation with Ruby.

But when Killian doesn’t say anything, Emma looks up, settling back on her legs and looking down at Killian who is staring at her with pressed together lips and hooded eyes.

“What? Are you – ”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence because then Killian is leaning up and slamming his lips into hers while his hand cups the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair and pulling her closer to him. It’s all tongue and teeth and is giving her no time to think or to set the pace on her own. She knows that she’s had a little to drink tonight, that Killian has too from the taste of rum still on his tongue, but there’s a buzzing emanating over her skin that has nothing to do with that.

It’s like she’s floating as he’s kissing her. Every inch of her body is on a high, one that she doesn’t want to come down from, and when Killian juts his hips up into hers, she knows it will be awhile before she does.

Killian tilts her head while his other hand wraps around her back, inching up underneath her t-shirt. He groans when his fingers get to the bare skin where her bra usually is, and Emma can’t help but laugh into the kiss, pulling back with a pop and a gasp of air.

“I was planning on going to sleep. Did you think I was going to wear a bra?”

“Can’t say I put much thought into it, love.”

“Really? I kind of figured you were always thinking about – ”

He interrupts her again, pressing his mouth pressed hotly against her neck while he gently flips them around. There’s not much space on the bed, and Emma’s leg slams against the wall, but then she’s managing to remove her t-shirt and settle under Killian while his mouth moves to her breast, lips wrapping around a nipple while she curls her leg around him and pulls him closer to her. She can feel his cock pressing into her through his boxers, almost exactly where she wants him, and God, it feels good. He’s heavy and thick, and she swears that her body goes even higher as her skin tingles with the buzz of anticipation of having him buried deep within her.

“Take off your boxers,” Emma gasps, scratching at his back.

“Not yet,” Killian mumbles into her stomach. “Not yet.”

She almost questions why, but then he’s moving down her body while he moves off the bed, settling down on his knees and tugging her to the edge. Emma takes the hint, lifting her hips she he can tug her underwear off and then wrapping her ankles around his shoulders.

Killian is damn good at what he does next, the warmth of his mouth pressed to where she’s aching and the roughness of his beard scratching against the inside of her thighs. She doesn’t need to tell him what to do, doesn’t need to instruct him, because he’s learned just what to do over the past few months. She’s already on edge, her body unable to stay pressed against the mattress, and her hands bury themselves in Killian’s hair, tugging on the soft, still slightly damp strands as he keeps moving in just the right direction that soon has her gasping for breath and having to mumble his name when she remembers that they’re not alone in this house.

Fuck.

After, he takes his time trailing his lips up her leg, settling his chin against her hip and staying there while her heart still pounds far too quickly and while she can’t even out her breathing. His eyes are hooded, deep blue showing itself from the blackness of his arousal, and after pressing his mouth against her side, he starts moving up her body again, kissing every inch of skin until he’s kissing her while she adjusts her hips so that he can press into her in a slide of heat that has her burning.

“So good,” she mumbles while he slowly rocks into her.

“You’ve got no bloody idea,” he rasps as his hands settle on her hips, fingers digging into skin, while he adjusts her underneath him. “Fucking temptress, doesn’t give a man a moment to breathe.” “You’re one to talk there.”

She can feel his laugh vibrate against her cheek, and she turns her head to capture his lips in a slow kiss as he begins moving within her and over her, pinning her to the bed. He’s warm over her, his back slick with a sheen of sweat, and she manages to press her hips tighter against him while he settles into a rhythm, slow and measured and one that she has a feeling could last forever if they wanted it to.

Right now, she can’t decide whether or not she wants this to go on indefinitely or if she’d like for him to fuck her into the mattress.

Killian seems to decide for her, keeping his thrusts slow as his lips ghost over her neck and her collarbone and then her nose, lingering there while his forehead presses into hers. She can see every eyelash, her freckle, every scar, and she’s so caught up in the feeling of him over her and within her and the subtly of his smile that her orgasm surprises her before overwhelming her, prickling at her skin in one long, slow simmer that she could definitely live in forever.

Emma’s nails dig into Killian’s shoulder hard enough to leave marks, and while he’s still pushing into her, she lets her hands fall to his lower black, pressing flat against the skin while Killian’s head falls to her shoulder, his lips pressing warmly against her. He keeps rocking into her, faster and faster until he stills and speaks something unintelligible into her skin.

Damn, Killian Jones.

Just, damn.

“And you complained about the bunkbeds,” Emma laughs as she waits for Killian to catch his breath.

“Not enough bloody space,” he mumbles before rolling off of her and standing up, grabbing his boxers off the floor and cleaning up with them. “If we mess these sheets up, someone will definitely see before we manage to get them in the wash.”

“You think ahead way too much.”

“I like to be prepared.” He shrugs and walks over to his bag, grabbing another pair of boxers and slipping them on before tossing Emma her t-shirt.

“Why are we getting dressed?”

“Door doesn’t lock, and our friends have no boundaries.”

“Ah, I have a solution for that.”

Emma rises from the bed, her legs still a little shaky, and slips on her t-shirt before walking across the room. She grabs the small chair next to the dresser and walks it to the door, propping it up underneath the knob.

“There,” she claps, “problem solved.”

Killian chuckles and settles down on the bottom mattress again. When Emma joins him, he shifts to the side, turning so she can stick her leg between his calves and rest her head on his shoulder. His hand wraps around her back, and he draws circles on her back, soothing her into a drowsy bliss that soon takes her.

-/-

Emma wakes to the extremely obnoxious sounds of birds outside her window, a constant chirping and chittering, and she should have put in her ear plugs before falling asleep.

“Oh my God, why do people like nature?” she huffs, opening her eyes and stretching her aching back only to realize that the warm body she slept next to last night is no longer there.

Huh.

This is a ridiculously small bed. It’s literally made for children. She should have felt Killian getting out of bed.

Emma sits up and reaches her arms above her head, stretching and pulling at all of the sore muscles. It’s like her entire body is on fire, and they’re probably going hiking again today. She is definitely going to need some ibuprofen or something.

Is she old in that the first thing she thinks of when she wakes up is ibuprofen?

Throwing the covers off her legs, Emma stands from the bed and reaches down on the floor to grab the t-shirt she’d put on after her shower last night and then pulls all of her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’ll have to fix that later, but from the feel of it, she can tell brushing it is going to be beyond a nightmare.

She slept with it wet without brushing through it and then Killian had run his hands through her hair, so there was really no way she was getting out of this predicament.

The door to the bedroom opens with a creak, and Killian steps inside. His hair is black with water, and he’s already dressed in a pair of black running shorts and a fitted pullover. Did he go running?

“Hey,” he mumbles in greeting, popping out an Air Pod she’s just now seeing.

Yeah, he went running.

“Good morning. What time did you get up this morning?”

He shrugs and toes off his trainers. “Early.”

“You should have woken me up. I know I’m no Skipper, but I make a good running partner even if my entire body hurts right now. My legs can be steady.”

He quietly chuckles, and she keeps waiting for him to look her in the eye and flash that smile she’s so accustomed to, but he keeps staring at his fingers as the hold onto the bottom of his pullover.

Something’s wrong.

Her superpower is going off, but it’s not…she doesn’t know why exactly she has this heaviness in the pit of her stomach.

“Swan, can I talk to you about something?” Killian asks, finally looking up at her.

Emma can see his eyes, but the smile is definitely not there.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma nods.

Killian reaches up to scratch behind his hear before he paces back and forth in the room, moving over to the window before leaning up against it.

“Look, you’re,” he finally begins, “damn, Swan, you’re fucking incredible. It’s bloody insane how good it feels to be with you. But I think it might be best for us to stop.”

It’s like she’s been slapped.

That’s the only thing she can compare it to.

She’s been slapped and punched in the gut and suddenly her legs aren’t so steady anymore.

Where the hell did this come from?

Emma opens her mouth to ask why, but she quickly snaps it shut. Killian isn’t one to mince words. He chooses them carefully. He always has. If he wanted to give her an explanation, he would have before he gave her any time to talk.

If he doesn’t want to sleep together anymore, that’s fine.

That’s what they agreed to.

There’s probably someone else. Women are always floating around him, flirting and talking and trying to make him laugh. He has to meet as many people in a day that she does, and maybe he found one that’s piqued his interest.

Emma swallows the lump in her throat and attempts to balance the toothpicks that are holding her up right now. She really needs to sit down or lean up against something, but she’s not going to budge from her spot.

“Oh, o-okay,” Emma finally sputters out, losing a bit of her balance despite herself. “If that’s what you want, that’s fine.” “Love, I – ”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” she interrupts, holding her hand up. “It was a good arrangement, KJ, but that’s what it was – an arrangement. Either of us could end it whenever, no hard feelings.”

He nods, slowly, all while his gaze never leaves hers. She swears that she sees his jaw clench, but that could have just been an illusion, a product of her still tired mind and body.

“Right. No hard feelings.” Killian moves away from the window and walks toward her, hovering so close she can feel the heat of his body and smell the saltiness of his sweat before his lips lightly brush against her cheek, his scruff scratching soon after. “I need to take another shower. I’ll see you downstairs for breakfast, aye? Maybe do something with that mess you call your hair.”

“Shut up,” Emma laughs, pushing his chest so he moves away from her. “Half of that is your fault.”

He half shrugs before bending down to grab clothes out of his bag. “Perhaps.”

And then he’s walking out the bedroom door like she’s not standing here with shaky legs and a heartbeat so erratic she hopes an ambulance can get here soon.

Fuck.

What just happened?

No, no.

Nope.

Emma is not going to let herself think about any of it. It’s early and she’s got half of a hangover, and her brain isn’t functioning. That’s why she feels so off-kilter.

It’s the half hangover and the distinct lack of coffee and greasy breakfast food in her stomach.

Coffee and food. That’s what she’s going to focus on.

With a deep breath in and out, Emma goes to her own bag, grabbing her brush and working through the knots in her hair. It’s painful as hell and takes far too long, and while it leaves her hair bushy and a little too much like Hermione Granger in the early movies, there at least aren’t knots anymore. She pulls on a pair of shorts and then some socks before gathering all of the things she needs to get ready for today.

Everything is completely and totally normal, and she is not going to act otherwise.

By the time she’s brushed her teeth and washed her face, Emma feels almost normal. Her hangover is definitely still there, the headache creeping into the corners of her head and settling there, but thankfully, she smells bacon and coffee when she walks into the kitchen. David is standing at the stove, and Emma pumps her fist when she sees pancakes on the griddle.

“Bless you,” Emma sighs as she walks toward him. “You’re making enough for me, right?”

“I know better than to be in the same five-mile radius as you and to not cook you pancakes.” He leans down and brushes his lips over the top of her head because David is the epitome of a father figure right now. All she needs now is some kind of misguided lecture on her life choices. She could actually use one of those right now. “You’re up earlier than I thought you would be. Everyone but Elsa is asleep.”

“Killian’s awake. He apparently went for a run this morning.”

“He was smart and didn’t drink as much as us, so he’s probably the only one thinking clearly.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Emma muddles around the kitchen, finding the largest mug she can find and pouring coffee in it before adding milk since there’s no creamer, and then fixing herself a plate of food. As she sits down at the counter, she sees Elsa walk into the kitchen. She doesn’t look anywhere near as dead as Emma feels, but she also probably got a heck of a lot more sleep last night and wasn’t broken up with – wait, no. That didn’t happen to Emma. She needs to wipe that thought right out of her mind and never think of it again.

This is fine.

This is normal.

This is how it has always been.

Elsa and David talk as David continues to cook, and Emma stuffs a forkful of eggs in her mouth. She needs food and to get over this hangover, and really, she is far too young to have such a bad hangover after so few drinks.

She isn’t even twenty-eight yet. She should be able to still drink and then not feel like hell afterward.

“Something smells delicious,” Killian sighs as he walks into the kitchen. His hair is now wet from his shower instead of sweat, and he’s changed into an almost identical pullover and pair of shorts.

“Thanks, mate. It’s just from a box,” David chuckles.

“Oh, Dave, I hate to break it to you, but I was talking about Emma, not your cooking. Though, it does smell heavenly in here.”

Emma feels heat rise in her cheeks and something else drop in her stomach, and she doesn’t even try to avoid Killian’s gaze. He flashes his teeth at her before winking, and it’s like nothing has changed.

Good.

That’s good, right?

Killian jokes around with David and tells Elsa good morning as he fixes his own plate. He sits at the counter next to her, and he stays there throughout breakfast, even as everyone else wakes up and stumbles into the kitchen, all in different states of distress. He stays and talks and laughs, and for a few moments at a time, Emma can imagine that everything is normal, that nothing has changed despite this pit that keeps growing in her stomach.

“David,” Elsa starts, “I have to say that you make a hell of a breakfast. Liam could learn from you.” “Oi, what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?” Liam grumbles, his mouth obviously full of food.

“That I didn’t fall in love with you for your cooking.”

“Really? Then what was it? My looks? My undeniable charm?”

Elsa laughs as she leans forward to press her lips into Liam’s cheek. “Your humbleness, honey, obviously.”

“Oh, Elsa,” Anna interrupts, “what about what you told me that one time?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“You know – ” Anna waves her fork in the air before putting it down as the room quiets, everyone suddenly listening to this conversation “ – like when you said that you knew that you loved Liam because he was the first man who had ever made you feel comfortable in a relationship. It was like he didn’t make you chase him or play games. You knew where you stood, and it was just, you know, solid.”

“Solid,” Liam repeats slowly. “I like that. I mean, I think of myself as passionate and romantic and thrilling, but I like solid too.”

“I like that my sister just told everyone something I told her in confidence.”

Liam chuckles and then reaches up to cup Elsa’s cheek, his hand covering the blush that’s painted itself there, and then he kisses her.

Emma looks away, suddenly feeling like she is intruding on the most private of moments, and as she turns her head, she catches Killian’s eyes and the hard set of his jaw as he looks at his brother.

Solid.

Comfortable.

He makes her feel comfortable in way that she has never felt before, and that’s how she knew that she had true feelings for him.

Oh fucking hell.

That’s how Killian makes Emma feel, how he always has even when she didn’t realize it.

Neal used to always have her on edge. He was always playing games and making her second guess what his intentions were or if he was being truthful, and in their five years together, she doesn’t know that she ever felt comfortable.

What an utterly shitty thing to realize as she finally realizes why she has this pit in her stomach.

She’s fooled around and developed feelings for the one person who has the ability to shatter her, and he ended a part of their relationship that she’d really grown accustomed to.

It hasn’t been just sex for her in a long time, and Emma had no idea.

Maybe Killian did, though. Maybe that’s why he ended it.

He was trying to save her from herself by stopping things before they went too far.

Too late.

-/-

-/-

tag list: @qualitycoffeethings​ @mrtinski​ @klynn-stormz​ @scarletslippers​ @jonirobinson64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @galadriel26​ @galaxyzxstark​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @superchocovian​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @mariakov81​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @cluttermind​ @lfh1226-linda​ @andiirivera​ @elizabeethan​ @captain-emmajones​ @csalltheway​ @itsfabianadocarmo​

[emy-loves-you]

(Slightly) Less Useless, (Definitely) Gayer Chapter 4

Confronting the Princes

Chapter 3 | Masterlist | Chapter 5

Warnings: Some of this is in the POV of a predatory transphobe, so a lot of bad things will be mentioned (also, as I post this I realize that the first few lines could be seen as discussions of animal cruelty, no animals were harmed or considered being harmed in this fic)

“Okay, but wouldn't it get a little bit drunk?”

“No. The Carassius auratus would surely suffocate before it could become intoxicated. Besides, the chances of it even ingesting any liquid before dying is slim.”

“Ooh! Would it be like hotboxing, but with death?”

“I am not sure what ‘hotboxing’ means.”

“I’ll have to show you later!”

Virgil sighed as he entered the room. “You’re not getting Logan high.” Remus and Logan were sitting on the couch, debating something. Virgil pushed down his jealousy. Debating wasn’t exclusively between Logan and Virgil. Besides, Remus tended to discuss topics that made Virgil… uncomfortable, to say the least. Speaking of which…“Do I want to know what you’re talking about?”

Remus bounced lightly in his seat. “I was wondering what would happen if you put a goldfish in a tank filled with vodka.”

Ah, so a tamer topic this time. Virgil shrugged, heading over to the couch. “Mind if I listen in?” Remus shrugged, and Logan held out his arms. Virgil (a little too eagerly) accepted, moving to sit in his boyfriend’s lap. Logan’s arms moved to wrap around Virgil’s waist as he rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil sighed, closing his eyes as they continued their conversation on drunk fish.

As the conversation continued, Virgil allowed his mind to wander. It’s been one month since Virgil confessed to his boyfriends. Not much has happened, surprisingly. Any time Virgil’s boyfriends weren’t busy, they’d all hang out at Janus’ house. Virgil was relieved to see everyone getting along, especially Remus. Remus’ intrusive thoughts and insecurities made him uncomfortable to go out in public alone. Virgil was happy that Remus was developing a positive relationship with Patton, Logan, and especially Roman.

Speak of the Devil. Roman suddenly knocked on the door. “I hate to interrupt, but breakfast is ready.” Remus squealed, running to the dining room. Logan and Virgil followed at a more subdued pace. It was currently almost noon, so it was more like brunch than breakfast, but it’s the thought that counts. Today was the 5-year anniversary of Janus and Remus’ relationship, and Janus wanted to celebrate by cooking breakfast for Remus. Considering the fact that Janus has never cooked a single meal in his life, this meant a lot. Janus had spent the entire morning attempting to make something edible with the help of Patton and Roman. Virgil decided to stay out of the kitchen, not wanting his own anxieties and possessiveness of Janus’ kitchen to cause interference.

Everyone took a seat at the dining table as Janus and Patton entered, each with a tray of food. There were buttermilk pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Janus took a seat next to Remus while Patton sat next to Virgil. They ate in relative silence, with the occasional compliment to Janus’ cooking (sure, the bacon was burnt and the pancakes were in multiple pieces, but it was good for Janus’ first attempt). Eventually, everyone finished eating and quietly talked amongst themselves. Logan and Roman were arguing over how to properly eat a pancake. Remus seemed determined to kiss every square inch of Janus’ face, making sure to whisper something in Janus’ ear between every kiss. Virgil and Patton watched quietly, holding hands underneath the table.

Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz

Roman looked at his phone and paled considerably. Logan glanced at the phone and sighed. “Just ignore it, Roman.”

Remus looked up. “Ignore what?” He looked over at the phone and read the contact name. “Why are they calling you!” He looked furious.

Roman huffed, shoving the phone away. “They call me once a month to try and convince me to stop being gay. They constantly call it a ‘phase.’ And according to them, the only reason I’m gay is that I thought it would magically bring you back somehow.” If it wasn’t such a serious conversation, Virgil would’ve snorted at the jazz hands Roman sarcastically made at ‘magically.’

Remus stared at the phone in silent fury while Janus got out his phone. He entered a number but didn’t hit call, just watching Remus. Virgil watched as Remus turned to look at Janus. Remus bit his knuckle as he looked at the phone. Janus showed him the number and raised and eyebrow. Remus sighed and brought his non-bitten hand to tug at his hair. Janus gently removed the hand from Remus’ hair, rubbing small circles into Remus’ wrist. Remus stared for a few more minutes before sighing. “We’re gonna need time to get ready.”

Janus smiled softly. “I know. I’ll help get everything together.”

Roman sat up, grabbing his phone as it stopped ringing. “Get what together?”

Remus turned to Roman with a shaky smile on his face. “Have you ever been in a limo?”

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Barbara Prince was surprised to hear a knock at the door. Today was both Barbara and her husband’s day off, and the two of them were in the living room. Barbara was dusting the mantel, while John was watching some sports game that Barbara didn’t care about. Barbara hummed a small tune as she set down the cleaning supplies and went to answer the door. She made sure to take her time; if someone wanted to talk to her that badly, they could wait a few minutes. Now, who could it be? Almost everyone is out on vacation right now.

Barbara Prince did not gasp at the sight of Janus Williams outside her house, thank you very much. Barbara never believed that she’d ever meet such a prestigious (or wealthy) individual. If Barbara wasn’t a faithful wife, she would’ve swooned on sight (never mind how Mr. Williams is several decades younger; after his mother died, Barbara’s sure the man would enjoy an older woman in his life).

If Mr. Williams noticed the staring, he didn’t say anything. In fact, all of his attention was turned towards the other man on the porch. The other man was also fairly attractive. He and Mr.Williams were both wearing form-fitting business suits with green and yellow accessories. The man seemed uncomfortable, biting his lip (which only drew attention to his face- or more specifically, his mustache).

Barbara snapped herself out of it, finally noticing that she’d been staring at the two of them for an improperly long amount of time. She gave Mr. Williams her best smile. “Hello. How may I help you fine gentlemen?”

Mustache Man slightly cringed before taking a deep breath. “Hello, Mother.”

Barbara froze for a second. “Roman? Oh, sweety! It’s so good to see you!” She quickly wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the way he tensed up “I see you took my advice, and I’m so proud of you!” She let go of him, only to pinch his cheek. “Look at you, all dressed up for business! And I see you know Mr.Williams.” She turned to look at the man in question, who’s face had stayed neutral the entire time. “I hope my son hasn’t been too much of a handful.” She giggled at the irony, hiding her smile behind her hand. After years of disappointment, one of her children were actually paying off!

Mr.Williams cleared his throat. “I believe we’ve reached a bit of a misunderstanding.” He made a gesture behind him, and Barbara finally noticed the vehicle parked on the street. Is that a limo?! The back door opened, and four men stepped out. The first man Barbara didn’t recognize; he wore a similar outfit with purple accessories. Barbara fought back a sneer at his shaggy purple hair. The next two people took her a moment to recognize; they both wore glasses and their suits each had sky blue or navy blue accessories. Barbara didn’t bother to hide her sneer when she recognized them. Logan Croft and Patton Morale. Roman’s ‘boyfriends.’ What are THEY doing here. She smirked. Maybe they’re here to apologize for all the shit they convinced Roman to put me through. I’ll let them grovel and beg for forgiveness. Barbara was so distracted by Croft and Morale, she didn’t even notice the last person until they were already on the porch.

Roman!? Barbara turned to look at not-Roman. The man chuckled nervously, biting his lip again. “It’s been quite a while now, hasn’t it, Mother?”

Barbara found herself freezing again. “Rebecca?”

Rebecca tensed up while the man with purple hair hissed out, “That is NOT his name!”

John chose that moment to approach the door. “Honey, who’s at the door?”

Rebecca took a deep breath. “I have just come to say a proper goodbye. You never respected my wishes to be a man, and you never respected Roman’s wishes to love who he wants to love. But we are both living happy and successful lives without the two of you. I ask that you never try and contact me or Roman from here on out. Good day.” With that, Rebecca spun on her heel and went to walk away. Mr.Williams touched Rebecca’s elbow and whispered something in her ear. Rebecca nodded once before walking away with Roman and his boyfriends in tow.

Mr.Williams smiled at Barbara and John. It reminded John of the smiles Barbara used to give the gay men who lived down the street. It reminded Barbara of a python, poised to strike. “If I may come inside, there is something that I would like to discuss with you, Mr and Mrs.Prince.”

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Virgil watched from his seat in the limo as Janus was forcibly shoved out of the house, the door slamming shut behind him. Virgil had to physically restrain Remus from getting out of the limo. Janus quickly brushed himself off, muttering something that Virgil couldn’t hear. He quickly made his way back to the limo, giving the simple order to take them home. Whatever he told the Princes, he didn’t share with the rest of them. Virgil watched as Remus and Roman curled up together. The two brothers were uncharacteristically quiet, with Remus rubbing small circles into Roman’s hands.

Roman suddenly grabbed Remus’ right arm. “Do you remember?” The rest of the question went unsaid. Whether because Roman didn’t want to talk much or because it was an obvious memory, Virgil didn’t know.

Remus chuckled softly. “Yeah. We climbed the old oak tree in the backyard. You fell out and I tried to catch you and suddenly my arm broke from under your fat ass.”

Roman nodded. “Do you remember what you said?”

Remus tilted his head. “I said a lot of things that day. I specifically remember that day being the first time cussed that bitch out.” He smiled softly. “But I don’t think that’s what you’re talkin’ about. Can you be more specific, Ro?”

Roman sighed. “You said that we would stick together. That you would never let me fall alone.”

Remus’ smile grew. “Yeah, ‘birds of a feather’ and all that. Why’d ya ask?”

Roman took a deep breath. “Does that still apply now? I know I pushed you away and it’s been so long but-”

Remus pulled Roman in for a hug. “Roman, you are my brother. You mean the world to me. I’m sorry I left you alone. But I promise that we’ll stick together from here on out.” We gave Roman a shaky smile. “Twins forever, right?”

Roman laughed, tears forming in his eyes. “Yeah, twins forever.”

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst @whatishappeningrightnow @idont-freaking-know @cute-and-angsty-princess @artsy-enby09 @girl-who-reads @drarrymalecsolangelo @count-woe-laf @im-an-anxious-wreck @ent-is-undecisive

[acreativeme]

Going to Work Mad

WARNING: THERE IS A MENTION OF A SHOOTING AND DRUGS

Request: hey, i wanted one with jay halstead. Jay arguing with his partner and she being shot, with a final fluff.

“Why are you being so overprotective, Jay? This isn’t my first UC, hell it’s not even my second or third!” Y/N asked, slamming her locker shut. 

Jay rolled his eyes, pushing off the lockers he was leaning against. “This isn’t some college dealer sting, Y/N. These are some of the most dangerous members of the Lorenzo Cartel, they are gonna see right through you.”

She sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the anger boiling in her chest. “College dealers? Is that what you think I was dealing with in Boston, Jay? You think the irish mob is a bunch of ‘college dealers’, huh?”

Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, Jay nodded. “Obviously. They aren’t like the gangs we see here in Chicago.”

Y/N stepped around the bench, moving closer to Jay as she spoke. “Really, Jay? Have you ever had to watch an innocent 15 year old girl get wiped and burned alive for rejecting an arranged marriage with an much older man? Or seen a 13 year old boy have to execute his own brother, because said brother talked about wanting to be a cop?” At this point, Y/N was up in his face. “Have you ever come upon a body with no tongue or eyeballs and shredded vocal cords? And when I say shredded, I mean like shredded chicken.”

Jay visibly gulped, taking a step away from Y/N. “This is different. You are going under as a prostitute, not a dealer.”

She shook her head, turning away from Jay. “Jay, you don’t get it. I wasn’t just a dealer in Boston. I was a prostitute as well. The only difference is that I am not actually going to have to sleep with anyone here.” 

Y/N picked up her UC bag and walked out of the locker room, putting an end to their argument. 

~Before~

Y/N stood in front of Kim, staring off into space as Kim laced up her mic. Her and Jay’s fight played in her head, distracting her from the conversation going around her. She and Jay had been partners since before Erin left 4 years ago, which made her believe that he had some faith in her. ‘But apparently not.’ 

“Got it, Y/N?” Voight asked, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts.

“What?” She responded, looking around at her teammates.

Kevin stepped up. “The code word is cherries. So, that is what you will say in case you are in danger and need assistance.”

She nodded, slipping her leather jacket over her shoulders. “Gotcha. I can work that into a conversation.”

Voight clapped his hands together. “Alright! Let’s roll!”

Dressed in a tight leather skirt, maroon crop top, 5-inch black heels and leather jacket, Y/N strutted passed Jay. Jay glared after her, tugging at his vest. 

Kevin stepped up to him, watching her walk away. “She looks fine. “

Jay looked over at him, “shut up.” 

Kevin laughed as Jay moved to get in the van. 

~During~

Y/N fixed her jacket as she walked up to the bar, brushing passed intoxicated party-goers. She locked eyes with Kevin, who was sipping on a beer, for a brief second, before leaning between two anonymous females to order her drink. 

“What can I get ya?” A tatted up man asks, wiping his hands on a towel.

 Y/N bit her lip, “can I get Dirty Ricky?” She batted her eyes at him. 

He clicked his tongue. “Are you sure, little Lady?”

She nodded slowly, pulling a roll of cash out of her purse. “I am sure.”

He grabbed the roll from her, nodding towards the door at the end of the bar. “Meet me at the door.”

Y/N nodded, pushing away from the bar. She tapped her purse three times, to signal Kevin. “I’m going back, guys.” She whispered to the team. 

“Stay alert, Y/L/N” Voight’s husky voice rang through her earpiece. 

“Got it.” She knocked on the door, walking around the bartender that opened the door.

The man led her to another backroom, where there were three large men and a well-dressed woman. There were multiple little baggies of crystal meth and stacks of pre-counted cash neatly organized on the table between the four of them. 

The bartender whispered in the woman’s ear, handing her the roll of cash. The woman nodded, waving him off as he finished speaking. “So, you are looking for some Dirty Ricky.” The woman’s voice was like velvet. “Are you sure you want something that strong?” She clasped her hands together. 

Y/N shifted in her spot. “Yeah, I am supposed to be going to rehab, so I need something strong to last me.” She started rubbing her arms as if she was itching for another fix. 

The woman stood up from her chair, signaling for the men to stay seated. “Rehab, you say. What rehab?” The woman played with a gun.

Y/N stepped back, racking her brain for a rehab name. “Rebirth. It’s in California. My folks want me far away from my triggers.” 

The woman looked at the men, who seemed to be searching the internet. The balding man was the first to speak. “No such rehab exists in California.” 

The woman tsked as she looked back at Y/N. “Now, why are you lying about going to rehab?” 

Y/N pretended to bite her nails. “I was hoping for a discount, you know.” 

The woman popped the clip out of the gun, to count the bullets. “I don’t know who told you about me or told you I do discounts, but they were lying to you little lady.” She slid the magazine back into the gun. She circled around Y/N, looking her up and down. “When was the last time you used?” 

Rolling her shoulders, Y/N bounced on her toes. “Two days ago.” 

“Tsk. Now, I know that is a lie. You aren’t showing any signs of withdrawal.” She circled around Y/N to stand in front of her. “There is no way you are an addict.”

Panic rose in Y/N’s chest, “woah! I’ve just been curving the cravings.”

The woman shook her head, tsking. “I’m calling bullshit.” Not wasting anytime, the woman let off two shots. One hit Y/N in the shoulder, while the second hit in her abdomen.

Y/N screamed out in pain, hitting the ground. She could hear the team breach the building, Voight was calling in an ambulance as Kevin knocked in the door. Despite the intense amount of pain, Y/N tried to put pressure on her abdomen wound. Black orbs started to form as the team formed a circle around her and their suspect. She could feel Jay’s eyes burning holes into the side of her face, but she was more focused on the red pool growing under her. 

The suspect muttered under her breath. “I fucking knew you couldn’t be a junkie.” She set the gun down, surrendering to the team. Voight and Adam cuffed the suspect, allowing the rest of the team to assess Y/N or go get the EMTs that showed up. 

Jay was the first to fall at her side, replacing her weak hand with his strong one. “I can’t believe you got yourself shot.” His voice shook. 

She laughed, breathlessly. “Are you gonna tell me ‘you told me so’?” She asked as she fell out of consciousness.

“No..” He whispered, stepping back to let the EMTs work.

~At the Hospital~

Y/N was in surgery for 10 hours, due to both bullets hitting bone and breaking into fragments. She had also lost a lot of blood, so they had to make sure she got an infusion of clean matching blood. While most of the team came in and out of her room, Jay remained a constant figure. He sat at her bedside, left hand clasped in hers.

Voight and Platt stood in the doorway, watching Jay talk softly to his partner. Both were stunned by the care he showed towards the injured detective. “I’ve seen him like this.” Platt stated, taking a sip of her lukewarm coffee.

Voight grunted in agreement. “Not even with Erin.” Y/N started to stir, signaling that it was time for the older officers to leave.

They shared a knowing look and turned away from the door, giving the pair some privacy. Neither Jay or Y/N spoke. Jay simply poured her a cup of water, letting her take small sips before sitting back in his chair. 

“How long have you been here, Jay?” Y/N asked, voice still raspy from the anesthesia.

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, looking down sheepishly. “The whole time you've been out.”

Y/N leaned back a little further and noticed that he was still in the same clothes that he wore to the bust, the only difference was that they now had blood stains. “You should change and get some sleep, Jay. You are covered in my blood.” Y/N’s voice was laced with strong emotion. 

Jay shook his head, “No. I am okay.”

Y/N squeezed his hand. “I am okay, Jay. You don’t have to stay with me. I will be okay for a few hours.”

He just continued to shake his head. “I’m not leaving you again.” His voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes. “I thought I was going to lose you today. And all I could think about was our stupid fight and how much I wanted to tell you that I love you. I am so sorry, Y/N.” He leaned down and sobbed into her hands.

Shocked by his confession, Y/N’s mouth fell open. “Jay…” She whispered, causing him to lift his head. “I love you too.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

With a wide grin, Jay cautiously pulled Y/N into a passionate kiss.

[neighborhoodmoonchild]

ᾰ̓γᾰ́πη - Pt. III

Pairing(s): Cursed!Seokjin x Reader

Genre(s): Fantasy Au, Fluff, Soulmate Au, Angst

Summary: “There’s a story whispered around here. One surrounding the beautifully carved statue of a man at the center of the town. Legend says that when the hand of his true love graces his palm, he shall wake from his cursed marbled slumber. It’s always been a silly old wives tale, until you give in to a friend’s dare.” (prompt idea from writing-prompt-s)

Warning(s): mild language

Word Count: 3.7k (oops)

Part I, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, …

taglist: @best-space-boy​ @maryelixabeth @mochimaw​ @yeontanismypresident​ @hannahantonette17​ @ign-is​ @fanfuckingfic​ @koala-wonderland​ @suchgayaesthetic​ @dulcaet​ @anoynmoustumbler​ @annoyingpessimist​

~ if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, feel free to send me an ask! thank you💜

“It’s also a pleasure to finally see you again, Althaia,” Seokjin adds after a not at all awkward pause while Mira swiftly prepared an herbal tea meant to relax her noticeably uncomfortable guests. Looking over the rim of your cup as you took a long sip, your eyes darted from the man now sitting at the table across from you to the woman seated to your right.

He was watching her intently as she swirled her spoon around her cup, lightly agitating the liquid to blend the honey she always added. She once told you she’s not one for bitterness, and because she could never find the perfect blend sweet enough on its own, honey would have to suffice.

A long, dramatic sigh accompanied her look of disinterest.

“I’m quite surprised, though you don’t seem to be.” Again, your gaze flitted between the two, unsure of what to make of the situation. Mira didn’t seem bothered at all, almost as if this whole thing was something she expected, or at least, knew might be coming.

Why was she not correcting him? Insisting he must be mistaken; her name is Mira, not...not Althaia or whatever he said. And how could he insinuate he knows her in any way? He’s been a statue since before you were even born and Mira is only a few years older than you.

Mira had remained quiet, content as Seokjin waited for any kind of response. It would make more sense if she had outright denied his accusations, shut him down and insist a mistake had been made. Instead, she slowly moved her attention from her earlier ministrations, softly gazing upon you for a brief moment, then turning to him.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d remember me after all this time, let alone be able to recognize me, Mr. Kim.” Her voice was low and calm, calculated as she mulled over just how to address the situation to come. Something about the tone of her voice didn’t sit right with you. This was no longer the slightly agitating neighbor you’d grown fond of.

This person next to you was entirely different.

In the deepest part of her being, Mira knew it from the moment she met you that things were finally changing.

“What do you mean ‘remember?’” you piped up over the silent stare down the two had unconsciously engaged in. At an utter loss, your mind had taken the small bits of information provided to try and come to some sort of viable conclusion, but to no avail. Perhaps your mind was still processing your own dilemma, and you couldn’t afford to lend any brain power to this situation, or maybe it was just too far-fetched to even fathom.

Now, the two stared at you as if you were some poor, pathetic creature or a doll made of porcelain. Pitiful was one way to put it and it made your insides clench and churn, the situation all too reminiscent of a lamb about to be sacrificed to the slaughter. Eerie how suddenly you were the only one without a clue and it didn’t help that it now felt as if you were seated next to two strangers and not just one.

After the two continued in an annoyingly cryptic battle of stares, almost prodding the other to speak first, you decide the time for silence and secrets is officially over. Slapping two hands on the oak table as you shoot from your seat, the crack of skin on wood makes them fully focus on you. Not even bothering to look either one in the face, you let out a hefty sigh and close your eyes, mind suddenly battling an intensely growing migraine.

“Look, I don’t know whatever ‘this’,” hands waving between the two of them, “is, but I’m tired and done. With everything. Feel free to settle this on your own, I’m going home.”

Before you could even make it 5 steps from your seat, the slightly ajar front door slams shut...on its own. Like a lone wind had decided to fiercely bound though the opening, or more fittingly, a spirit decided to trap you inside.

“The hell was that?” You mumbled to yourself as you cautiously approached the door, afraid it may come suddenly to life, considering the day you’d had.

As your hand curled around the cool metal knob, you heard someone rise from their seat, “Wait, Y/N, just stay and let...let me explain.”

Swiveling your head around enough to see Mira standing firmly by her chair, a scared expression on her face, the atmosphere shifted. It set you off, igniting a sense of, you’re not sure, maybe fear, within you. Something wasn’t right. Nothing about this whole situation felt right.

“I can’t do this. I don’t know what’s going on, but it doesn’t feel right. I can’t be here...with you.” You weren’t sure what exactly was triggering this flight response within you. Not once in your time knowing her had Mira ever done anything for you to react this way towards her, but today, with her pushing you to touch the statue, to the odd sense of familiarity between Seokjin and her, to the strange aura suddenly radiating off her, it was all too much.

Your senses were overloading. Too much had transpired and you’d not been given enough time to properly digest anything. Going from a relatively boring life to one suddenly plagued by some kind of weird magic, sorcery, whatever it was, in the span of a few hours is too much.

The migraine you’d been fighting was on the cusp of becoming a full fledged breakdown.

Ignoring the protests of the two behind you, again your body moved towards the door, handle turning a fraction of an inch before everything stopped.

Seconds, maybe minutes you stared at the slab of wood. Not a muscle moved, like your entire body was paralyzed, only slow shallow breaths could escape the numb confines of your lips. As if you no longer controlled the only vessel with which you solely could. You were a marionette, controlled by invisible strings.

And then all at once, a warm tingly feeling seeped through your veins, bringing with it the sweet taste of freedom. Nerves alight, muscles contracting, you finally had your body back.

But with this came the intense fear of the whole situation. Every other thought within you was gone, mind shut down, body going into lockdown mode, syphoning your remaining energy into getting away.

Away from whatever this strange new danger was.

Slowly, cautiously, prey reacting to predator, you turned your body back to the table.

It hurt. Hurt to look at them. To look at her.

At first, a part of your mind jumped straight to blaming the newcomer, but deep in your soul, you knew.

She looked pained, as if she hadn’t just defiled you in some unbelievable and terrifying way. Like she had instead been the one to somehow become nothing but a husk reduced to a master’s bidding.

The questions of how and why were disregarded for a greater purpose, saving yourself from whatever was happening and preventing it from ever happening again.

How dare someone you trusted, cared for, looked up to, do whatever that hell that was to you, a friend, even for the fleeting moments she did.

The blood in your body was now cold, face pale and painted with such a deep look of betrayal you could feel the guilt radiate from her being.

“Y/N.. I-“

“Don’t.”

You didn’t even breathe when she flinched at the steel tone of your voice. This was all too much. This whole day was entirely too much. You needed to get away from this, from them, and you needed to do it now.

She knew what she’d done. Not only had she lied to you your entire friendship, but she’d hurt you in a way that shouldn’t be humanely possible. Panicked in her efforts to come clean to you, protect you, and protect herself, she’d acted too quickly, doing something she’d swore never to do again. It was one thing to keep secrets, but another to use them against someone.

Seokjin forgotten, you briskly made your exit, making sure they couldn’t see as the tears fell.

————

“If I see one more walk by, I’m going out there and beating the shit out of them,” you mutter to yourself halfheartedly underneath the comfort of the blanket fort you’d built in the living room.

After spending a few days trying to piece yourself back together, you’d decided the best course of action was: avoidance. Within the tiny walls of your home, you could stay cooped up in a safe space and forget everything that happened. Statue man could stay with her and you could go on with your life, without the both of them.

It seemed do-able at first, spending an unhealthy amount of time in bed, watching movies, the occasional brief call with your mother, but it of course couldn’t stay that way.

You’d been naive enough to think that the town would go back to normal, find something new to obsess over and forget all about you and the stupid statue.

Oh, how wrong you’d been.

Suddenly your house was like an attraction for everyone. As soon as the sun rose, you’d catch a few faces passing by your windows, just outside the front gate. There they’d sit for a few minutes, gawk and gossip, and eventually leave, and be replaced by a new set of oglers ready for a show.

You weren’t afraid of the attention, just miffed that your plan to lay low and be alone failed from the beginning.

Despite the annoyance from the nosy town folk, you were grateful that it had only been them, and not two other faces outside.

Watching the last of the group of young girls get bored and disperse from your window, you turn your attention back to the movie on your screen. As the characters moved and music played in the background, you forced yourself to try and focus on that. Instead, thoughts of Kim Seokjin and your friend weasel their way in over the noise.

What were they doing? Were they thinking of a way to fix things with you? Had they forgotten about you and moved on? How did she even do that in the first place? And what is the whole backstory between them?

The questions tore you up inside, fighting with the stubborn part of you that wanted to forget them completely. The other downside to isolating yourself was the immense amount of free time to think about everything that’s happened. It was a nightmare going over everything, every single bit that made no sense, bits and pieces not adding up in any way you could understand.

Just a few days ago you were a normal girl living life in a boring town fighting with your friend over the legitimacy of a town legend.

She was your only friend, the only person who listened, who understood. Could you forgive her for what she did? It was quite obvious she’d been keeping things from you, but for how long, and why? And Seokjin, your soulmate, how are you supposed to love someone you don’t know, who’s probably lived a whole life before yours even began?

If he is your soulmate, why didn’t he stop her? Did he feel the pain you did when you were robbed of your own self? How could he see you in such distress and not do anything? Why hadn’t it scared him as much as it had you? What parts of Mira’s hidden past was he privy to that you were not?

Perhaps you were putting too much onto the whole soulmates thing. After all, how could you expect a stranger to assert himself into such a personal thing, even considering the circumstances. When it all comes down to it, soulmate or not, Kim Seokjin is an outsider, an alien to you.

He is no more a part of your life than the nosy towns people, the visiting tourists, or the migrating birds. You don’t owe him anything, and he you.

The only thing you could wish for him right now, is to go about his own life and not force himself into yours.

Pillow clutched unknowingly tight to your chest, grounding yourself, you couldn’t help the dull ache in your heart. That was the only thing you would allow yourself to chalk up to the soulmate thing. Maybe one day, like them, you’d be able to ignore it too.

Movie long abandoned, you trudged your way back and forth, pacing across the wooden floorboards like a caged animal. You were desperate to get out, see the stars, breathe in the fresh air, but your body was still afraid of what leaving these four walls might incur. Whether you were ready to face them or not, you couldn’t sit there and drive yourself insane any longer.

The sun had set hours ago, the light from the moon casting a hazy white glow over the landscape, and you were desperate for even just a second to bask in it.

Grabbing a light jacket to fend off the chilly night air, you brace yourself, hand wrapped tightly around the door knob, and take a deep breathe.

Now that you were truly thinking about it, it must look overly pathetic from an outsider’s perspective. You’d been holed up in your home for four days now, only peeking suspiciously through your windows to glare at the onlookers and then returning to a pitiful mope-fest with only one attendee; you.

You owed it to yourself to snap out of it, move on, and go back to life as normally as possible. The only thing you could control was yourself. It doesn’t matter what others do or don’t do, you need to do what you can, for you.

And right now, that’s enjoying some fresh night air and being brave.

Taking that first step out onto the front porch is what you imagine the first astronaut on the moon must’ve felt. The most mundane of things became a huge feat, and you weren’t about to ruin it for yourself, no matter how silly it seemed.

Looking out across the street, the sidewalk empty and streetlights dim, it was like you were finally yourself again. The stars above and the moon shining bright made the first smile in days appear.

All of the worries, the questions, the bitterness lifted away by a light breeze, the clouds in your head dispersed and you had the sudden urge to forgive. All your life you’d been quick to judge and draw conclusions, but something within you told you there was more to this than meets the eye. You needed the truth.

Like fate had been keeping a close eye, your attention was drawn to the figure making its way along the outside of your fence line. The long dark hair caused a breathe to catch in your throat, and you were suddenly questioning if you were really were ready to face things.

She stopped just before the gate, head looking up and catching your eyes with her own.

Hesitating, she clears her throat, “I...I didn’t think you’d be up.”

Watching as her hands lifted up, you spot the neat paper bag tucked within her palms.

Still afraid to say anything, not trusting yourself to stay calm and collected, she continues.

“He’s been asking a lot about you. I wanted to do something...to apologize.”

She pauses, waiting to see if you’d run away or tell her to leave, but when you nod in the direction of the bag, she finishes, “I showed him how to make your favorite cookies. But I thought it be best if just I came to drop them off. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Arms protectively crossed over your chest, you take another deep breath and slowly descend the porch on step at a time. Instead of meeting her at the gate, you plant firmly in the grass.

“Why?”

It sounded choked coming out and you hated that. Not only did you not want to seem weak in front of her, you didn’t want her to think you hated her. The only thing you want is the truth. She owes you that much.

Mira fidgets a moment and returns her attention to you, not quite in the eyes, but it’s close enough.

“I didn’t mean to-I just-“ Tripping over her words, not exactly sure how to begin or where to go, you stop her quickly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Finally meeting your eyes, she sees the strength you’ve managed to muster up, sees that twinge of forgiveness at the helm and realizes it’s now or never.

“I’ve wanted to explain everything, I just wasn’t sure how to go about it.”

“So instead you instigate me to break some curse you already somehow knew I’d be able to, pretend to be someone your not this entire time, and somehow posses me and take away my free will?”

The look of shame that melted onto her face struck a chord of guilt deep in your soul, but this was something you had to do. For too long you let others have free reign, it was time to take control.

“I wasn’t sure if you could handle it, or even believe me in the first place...”

“And how am I supposed to ever believe you now? I don’t even know who you really are, what you are...”

Tension building quickly in the cool air, things were becoming muddled. You weren’t even sure what you were pushing for, a confession? A secret so dark and unbelievable it was grounds enough to hide from you for as long as you were friends.

“I’m a witch.” There’s a long pause. You both stand there, staring at each other, unsure of who’s to make the next move. Mira’s afraid she’s just divulged her dangerous secret to someone who can’t handle it, and you’re afraid you’ve officially lost your mind.

“I know I sound like an old record player by now, but maybe we should take this somewhere more,” she pauses to look around the darkness cautiously, sending a shiver down your spine, “private?”

————

Turns out cookies at 2 in the morning are a good way to smooth over the confessions of the magical past of your only friend. Not going to lie, you’d taken plenty of breaks to try and absorb and process the incredible amount of information Mira, or formerly known as Althaia in the late 1800s, if you can believe it, had to unload on you. In her defense, you’d pushed her quite hard to open up and be 100% honest with you.

“So, you just...change your appearance and house every few centuries and pretend to be someone else?” Rubbing your head to ease the growing headache as you mindlessly shoved another cookie in your mouth, you felt like a little kid asking an adult really strange questions that shouldn’t have a serious answer.

Mira nods, wrapping her hands around the mug of coffee you made her and taking a sip.

“And you knew Seokjin when he was alive, well, in his own time, before he turned into a statue?”

She cringes a bit and it catches your attention, “About that...”

-

“You mean, you’re the one that cursed him?!?” It was probably the hundredth time you’d asked her that in the past half hour, but you couldn’t help it, you suddenly felt like you were going crazy, trapped in some bad supernatural rom-com or something. 

Sighing loudly enough to voice her growing impatience with you, she nodded, “Yes, for the millionth time. I put the curse on Kim Seokjin.”

“Well, why?” Resting your chin in your palms, eyes wide like a child, you prayed further. You just couldn’t understand why on Earth she’d curse him in the first place. Even if she is a witch, what could have warranted him to invoke a curse? And why this particular curse?

“Well, it’s not really my story to tell...”

Holding true to your childish theme growing in this conversation, you pouted, bottom lip sticking out and leaning forward on the table, “But you cursed him, how is not yours to tell?”

Mira only shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips at your antics. You’d only shown your stubborn side like this to her on few occasions, and it made her laugh at how you could be so apathetic one minute and youthfully enthusiastic the next.

“True, but there’s much more to it than it seems. Besides, I think it’s time you both get together, talk, and figure things out.”

Your silent for a moment, fighting another pout and mulling over her words. Then suddenly, it hits you.

“Well, if you’re the one who cursed him, you can break our soulmate bond too, right?”

Her grin morphs into a neutral line, lips curled in. Like she’s trying to think of the best way to let you down.

“The thing is, I only enacted the curse. The means to break it were decided by fate, not me.” The look of disappointment that washed over you couldn’t help but bring a prick of guilt from the witch.

She’d invoked the curse reluctantly to help another, and now she was hurting someone again. If she could go back, maybe she’d have done differently.

Silence again stretched out between the both of you. It was one thing when it was some folk lore from town, but now knowing the truth, and knowing it is all very real and unavoidable; unfix-able, it’s a harder pill to swallow.

“Do you,” you squeak softly, eyes trained on the floor, “do you think we can actually do this? That I can do this?”

Mira’s hand reaches across the table to softly grasp your own. Despite your protests, a small tear slips from the corner of your eye, and you rush to brush it away.

“I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” Even though she understands, she wants to hear you say it, for yourself to hear it.

“Of being tied to a stranger forever. Forced to be with someone I may not ever fall in love with...”

“To possibly fall for someone who’s forced to be bound to me forever, who may never truly love me back.”

__________________________________________________________

A.N., 

 Not going to lie, writing this portion was like pulling teeth. I’m not 100% happy with how it turned out, but in order to progress the way I want, I needed some things cleared up first. Now that we know Mira’s little secret, how will Y/N and her’s dynamic change? How will Seokjin fit into Y/N’s life and this new world? I promise, Y/N x Jinnie shenanigans are coming in the next part! 

 -Moonie🌙

[that-kids-storybook]

There goes my first ever post! :) Hope you like it!

It was the cold breeze of November the second that made my hair flutter as I rollarskated my way down the fully decorated hallway, my eyes analysing the beautiful golden chairs perfectly aligned together majestically around the large red angelic serving table in the middle that was set up with those admirable empty culinary.

I circled my way round this beautiful aspect and immediately met with the familiar auroma of my favourite cake that was currently being prepared in the kitchen by my mother.

I licked my lips at the remembrance of the little personal fact: after my first birthday, it became a tradition for her to prepare my cake. I chuckled at the thought of her quoting; "Made with love," to my friends.

Speaking of friends, I had made sure to invite everyone I loved, which apparently meant that this was going to be an amazing day filled with laughter and happiness.

"I can't wait!" I exclaimed with my eyes closed and arms sticking out.

"This is going to b-"

My glorious train of thoughts and ranting was rudely disturbed by the solid concrete wall that divided the kitchen from the hall.

The momentum made me stumble backwards, and I crashed into the floor.

Letting out a moan and rubbing my sore temple, I stood up and pounted straight at the wall, glaring at it as if it were an offender who had managed to arrogantly disrespect me, just by existing.

"You'll never change will ya?"

Came an oddly familiar voice, I did not even need to look back as I already knew who it belonged to.

"I'm the 'Birthday Girl', I've an absolute right to act egotistical," I muttered enough for her to hear but not enough for my precious mother to hear either. I was not going to risk my chances of getting lectured. No, not at all.

"Yeah, yeah, understandable, anyway what's up?" Noor casually mimicked taking a seat on one of the golden chairs.

"Hey! Don't you dare sit on my legendary Iron-man chair, you punk!" I bellowed beckoning my best friend to sit on the couch instead.

"Dude, c'mon what made you choose a pathetic Iron-man theme?" She indirectly obliged to move an inch.

"Welp, Tony Stark's death ain't goin' good on me ya know... Poor Mr. Stark," I said mocking her tone.

"Hahaha, so funny,"

"Shut up, sour patch!"

"Why should I? Alpaca,"

"At least alpacas are cute," I acknowledged as-a-matter-of-factly, smirking.

"Mr. Stark I don't feel so good, please I don't wanna g-," She was disrupted by me throwing a cushion directly at her face.

'No one, I mean no one, makes a joke about Peter Parker's despair in this household,' I thought to myself.

"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter?!" I cursed, as a cushion hit me in my perfect tooth.

In no time, we found ourselves having a 'cushion war', as if that was even a thing.

"You won," I cried out in defeat, gesturing for her to give me her hand to stand up.

"C'here," she signed giving me her hand and making me stand on my own two feet.

"Lessgo," I said lazyly putting the rollerskates back on, ironically I wondered when I even took them off.

Slamming myself on the bed, with a slight thud, I sighed deeply. The clock on my bedside table notificed me that it was 4 O'clock which if we put in perspective, clearly meant that the celebration of me inhaling my first atoms of oxygen, would start in roughly an hour.

"You wanna kill some time while we wait for the party to start? I got the new Spider-man movie here!" Noor squeaked, beaming at the movie's compact disk in her right hand. How could I refuse such great things in life? "Yep, let's make this go down!" I sassed taking the disk from her hand and putting it into the drive reader of my laptop.

[Time Skip]

Noor and I were perfectly done with our routine of wasting time, the humongous clock on the ceiling of the hall boomed throughout the house. Indicating the time as 5 o'clock.

'The guests should be arriving by now,' My brain broadcasted to me.

We looked at each other, grins reaching our eyes. Nodding, we took a jog down the entrance gate of the house.

"Now, we wait," I said, proudly puffing my chest high. Noor just giggled at my childish behaviour.

Just as the door bell rang, I enthusiastically swung the door open without even bothering to confirm if it was a phedophile or not. Luckily, it was not.

"Konichiwa," the three of my friends chirped like sparrows. Making Noor and me snicker in the process.

It was just like I imagined a perfect birthday to be. After the arrival of my good friends, gradually as the clock ticked, the hall started to fill with my classmates and relatives. It was strange as well, because I did not remember requesting my mom to invite this much people, but perhaps the phrase; "The more = the better," was quite correct.

"It's 7 o'clock already, Areeba, when're ya goin' to cut the goddamn cake?" Screamed - I do not know - Mishal? Yeah it was her.

Taking Mishal's request as a treat, I proceeded to make my way toward my obviously expected Iron-man cake, which portrayed Tony Stark vibing with his capri-sun. To make it more divine, the candle holder was just above the nano infinity gauntlet, I was about to lit up the candle as Rozhna was informing the guests about the main ceremony taking place.

"Stop!" Shahar's voice echoed through the fusion of chatter, which made me stutter, fortunately, Noor caught me from the back before I could fall face-to-face into the cake. Not to mention but I reluctantly knocked a couple cupcakes in the chaos.

"What?" I whimpered practically shooting daggers at her through my eyeballs. How can someone not expect me to get furious after they make me subconsciously murder two delicious cupcakes?

"Areeba, we gotta talk this through," my dad joined in. The confused look on my face probably took Noor off-guard but I did not care, this was honestly pretty bizzare.

"On everyone's 13th birthday after they blow the candles, one word appears on their skin, depicting their career or purpose in life. We want you to know that after you blow this candle, your purpose, your destiny, will become apparent, it'll be engraved on your body, and you won't be able to get away with it, because that's what your chosen for," mom's little speech was appreciated by the crowd, as they were applauding and cheering, some were even whistling. Which only made me confuser.

"But how come I didn't know about this?" I whispered, hoping for some sort of savior to take my confusion away.

"It's because we're forbidden to let this bit of information wander through the ears of those who're younger than thirteen," Shahar, or in other words, my 'saviour' described causally. I looked through the crowd and realized that there were no children under the 'appropriate' age present. The little bulb inside my head lit up and I started laughing.

"Really? You sure this isn't a prank or somethin'?" I asked eyeing everyone in the room.

"Nope," Noor said softly, showing me her ankle, the word 'doctor,' inscribed there with a golden splint.

"Alright,"

The scene was overwhelming, literally everyone was curiously gathered around the table, pure astonishment in their eyes as I blew the candles. They were applauding which for some odd reason, made me feel sick to my stomach.

Just as the little fire left the candle top, everything went into slow motion, the party poppers that were shooted directly at me became numb, the second hand of the clock that hung high to the ceiling started to move moderately, the screams of joy disappeared, my heart was unusually beating faster, I could feel the aderline pumping through my veins as tears threatened to escape my eyes.

Pride, it was all I could feel.

After about what felt like an eternity, everything came back to as it always was.

Perhaps it was just me who felt that sensation?

"What is it?" A voice quizzed.

"Go to the bathroom and see!" Another voice ordered.

I have no idea what happened after that but when I did come to my senses, I found myself in the bathroom trying to find the word. Or if we put it bluntly, My Destiny.

I looked and looked but could not find it.

A thought made my heart swell.

What if all this was just a prank?

Before I could contemplate any further I started to sob hysterically while sitting crossed leg on the cold bathroom floor.

As my head jerked to the side, a glimpse of something red caught my attention.

I shakily closed my eyes and directed my head towards the back of my left foot.

Deep down, I wanted this 'prank' to not just be a prank. Pulling myself together, I opened my eyelids to find my destiny there, written in a colour as red as blood.

"Assassin,"

"Wow! That was lit!" Jax gasped, as he professionally shot the target in the most vulnerable spot, which instantly resulted in her dying.

"Yeah, mine is sort of the same!" Alexa declared, the smile visible even through the black cloth that she infamously described as her 'mask,'

I chuckled, "this is one of the best memories of my childhood," I mumbled dragging the body of our target toward the dumpster.

[thinkyoureholy]

Soul Eater [6]

[A/n: Aahh I'm posting a day early but I didn't want to leave y'all with nothing for 3 weeks. I'll be going on a short break since my finals start in 2ish weeks and I need to really study for these test to not tank the class. Soul Eater will be back December 15th!]

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Pairing : Jung Yunho / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Demon! AU

Words : 2.6k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

-Yunho’s P.O.V-

I paced in front of her door, my thoughts running at a million miles per second. It had been almost two weeks since the last time I saw her and I was worried sick. I tried to stay away, knowing that she told me not to contact her until she was fully healed but I couldn’t keep my mind off of her. The image of her injured body flashed in my mind every time I closed my eyes but what really had me on edge were the last few words she said to me before leaving to her apartment

“I'd hate to have to see you turn into a demon, you alone are meant for salvation ...not damnation.”

I figured selling my soul to a demon would send me straight to Hell but I didn’t know it would also make me a demon after I died. Truth be told after hearing that I regretted selling my soul in the first place but that regret didn’t last long. It scared me to think about turning into a demon but that fear vanished when I realized...Y/N would be there with me. We’d be able to spend hundreds of years together. But the fact that I'm okay with being a demon if that meant still being able to see her...it was a telltale sign of what I felt towards her.

"Are you going to just pace in front of my door all day or are you going to come in?"

I was snapped out of my thoughts the moment I heard her voice, my mind going blank the moment I saw her face. The claw marks...they were gone...not even so much as a scar was left behind. Without thinking I reached out and cupped her face in my hands, moving her head from side to side as I took a closer look. Again, without much thought I grabbed her arms, pulling up her sleeves to see that the crumbling effect her left arm  had was all but gone, the gash on her right bicep also gone. I looked back up into her eyes, shocked with how quickly she’s healed.

“You know this could also be a form of harassment you know? Touching me without my consent.” She deadpanned, the look in her eyes as guarded as ever.

I quickly took my hands off her, taking a step back, “Sorry...I just...I can’t believe it. I didn’t think you would be able to heal this quickly. I mean in those three days I watched over you...it…” I trailed off, at a loss for words.

She smiled softly, but it wasn’t one that had my heart racing...it was a sad one, my heart sinking to the pit of my stomach.

“I’m not human remember? The wounds were just deep so I was having trouble healing on my own but...I had some help from an old friend.”

“You have friends?” I blurted out without thinking.

Shit...I really gotta stop doing that. Before I knew it she had punched me straight in the chest. It wasn’t particularly hard but there was a small throbbing sensation that still spread out over my chest. I winced as I rubbed over the spot her fist made contact with.

“You’re lucky I didn’t punch through your sternum. And I have friends! Or rather...one friend. He’s annoying but he’s the only other demon I can stand and trust.” She snapped, her voice falling in volume to longer she spoke.

Without another word she then turned on her heel and made her way into her apartment. I half expected her to slam the door in my face like she had done so many times before but she left it wide open, her invitation to come in replaying in my mind. I smiled to myself as I stepped inside her apartment, closing the door behind me and following her to the living room. I couldn’t help but look around, seeing that her place didn’t have much but the necessities. She had a couch, a coffee table, a book shelf stocked full with books, and that’s about it. She didn’t have a tv or any other decorations put up.

“You don’t even have a tv? What do you do in your free time then?” I asked as I sat down on the couch.

“I don’t really have much free time...well until now actually. It’s been awhile since I’ve been directly involved in a deal like this so I have more time to myself than I did before.” She explained, heading into the kitchen.

“You don’t know how to work a tv do you?”

I don’t know what led me to ask that question but I kind of wanted to keep the conversation going. This is one of the first times I’ve gotten to talk to her for so long without her being hostile with me. She seems more relaxed than usual so I thought this could be my chance to finally get to know her and start breaking down the many walls she had surrounded herself with.

“I know how to work a tv...I’m not an idiot.” She retorted with a scoff, turning on her heel to face me, “I might have been raised in an entirely different century but I’ve had to keep up with technology as its come out. Speaking of which you humans just keep coming out with new things every year, I’m surprised you haven’t figured out how to clone yourselves yet. I guess that’s a good thing since you’ll be playing God at that point.”

I watched her intently as she rambled on. I don’t think she realized that she was just saying whatever came to mind. This is the first time she’s ever done this around me, I couldn’t help but let a smile tug at my lips as I listened to her. I’m guessing she’s just comfortable enough around me to ramble on the way she was, this was a good sign. But the smile I had on my face fell the moment I saw her wince ever so slightly, her hand resting over her side...right where her ribs were. That action reminded me of her injuries and why I had come up here in the first place.

“Y/N?”

She hummed, waiting for me to continue, leaning against the counter as she continued to hold onto her side.

"Are you really alright?" I asked, hoping she'd tell me the truth.

"I told you already. I'm as good as new. I just needed that extra push and a little bit of rest and poof, back to indestructible demon once more." She rambled animatedly.

I couldn't help but smile at seeing this, even though I knew she was lying through her teeth. It warmed and broke my heart at the same time to know she was lying for my sake...but she didn't really have to. She then went on to talk about something completely different, rambling once more. As I listened to her talk I was reminded by her words the other day...once again they rang loud in my mind.

"Y'know...to me at least...being a demon doesn't sound like such a bad idea…" I mumbled to myself, or at least I thought I did.

Y/N heard every word, the hint of a smile that had been on her face all but vanished the moment she heard me. A look I had never seen before fell over her eyes. Truth be told I was starting to feel a little bit scared the longer she looked at me like that. Just when I thought she'd just continue to stare at me with that deadly look in her eyes she spoke.

"You--you have no idea what it's like so don't go saying that ever again, am I clear?" She said through her teeth, the look in her eyes intensifying.

"But...it--it doesn't seem all that bad. I mean you get to live for hundreds and hundreds of years, you're basically immortal and-"

She cut me off by slamming her fist on the countertop, the tile covering it shattered into pieces. Her eyes had shifted entirely, her demonic eyes staring straight into my soul.

"It doesn't seem all that bad? Really?" She questioned rhetorically, the look on her face making my whole body tremble in fear, "You have absolutely no idea what they do to you down there the first twenty years. They break you in every which way; emotionally, physically, psychologically, spiritually, any way they can find to break you they'll do it and do it ten times over. By the end of it you'll be begging for them to just kill you, anything to get the pain to stop. And once your twenty years are up your transformation finally begins. The pain of your body changing is of course nothing compared to the pain you endured for twenty years."

She took calm collective steps towards me, towering over me as I stayed glued to the couch, too frightened to move, "And when they send you up to Earth?" She paused to chuckle dryly, staring down at her clawed hand, "You go on a murder spree. Seeing humans so carefree makes something in you snap. You think to yourself, 'Why do they get to smile? Why do they get to laugh like that? How come they get to be oblivious to the pains of the world? Why? Why me? Why did I have to endure so much, in both my human and demon life, why?' And that's when you kill your first human. And no, oh no it doesn't just end with one. By the time you come to your senses you've killed hundreds, their blood running down your fingers and staining your skin for all of eternity."

She leaned down, resting a hand on the back of the couch behind me, our faces mere inches apart. She stared at me silently for a moment before she sprouted her wings, the appendages hanging over me menacingly. I cowered back into the couch, trying to create some space between the two of us but she wasn't having it. She reached out and grabbed my collar, keeping me in place as she leaned in closer.

"You have no idea what it's like so don't go casually saying shit like that. The way we're made is not something to be taken lightly, especially not by a worthless human who has had everything handed to him his entire life." She spat out, reaching up to forcefully grab my chin with her fingers, "I've been patient with you, I was even willing to risk everything to cancel our deal but now? Now you can forget about it. I'm not about to save a human who takes demons so lightly, I don't care how clean and pure your soul is. If you don't see anything wrong with being a demon then you deserve to burn."

With that she shoved my face away from her, straightening back out. She turned on her heel and gave me her back to me.

"Get out before I hurt you."

I stared at the back of her head, stunned at her words but then I swallowed down the fear that had been bubbling up inside me since the moment this whole conversation started. I stood up from the couch, refusing to collapse even though my legs felt like they would give out any second. I reached out tentatively, placing my hand on her shoulder as gently as I could.

"You're not gonna hurt me. If--if you really wanted to you would have already. Look, I'm sorry about what I said. I know I was wrong now. I...I should have never said anything because you're right, I have no idea what it's like and--and I'm sorry." I paused, feeling a lump in my throat the moment I felt her shoulders start to shake, "But please, don't--don't shut me out. I won't bring it up ever again please just...just let me stay by your side."

She jumped at those words, returning back to normal, her demonic side hiding under the surface once more, "You don't know what you're asking, Yunho. I'm not someone that can-"

"I don't care about any of that! I don't care! I…I can't stand to be pushed away...not anymore...not by you."

-? P.O.V-

"She's really gone soft hasn't she?" I asked, disgusted with what I was watching.

I scoffed as I watched her stare at the ground, almost gagging at the look she had in her eyes. He and I shared a look, a smirk making its way onto his face.

"We should toughen her back up don't you think?" 

The smirk he wore grew into a grin, mischief shining in his eyes. I simply smiled back, a devilish look creeping into my eyes.

"That's the best I idea you've ever had. I think it's time we pay Y/N and her pet a little visit in the human realm."

…...

-Y/N's P.O.V-

I closed the door, leaning my back against it. It took awhile to get Yunho to leave. He kept insisting that he wouldn't move a muscle until he was convinced I was no longer angry with him. After ten minutes of tell him that I wasn't mad he finally left, saying he'd be back tomorrow. I let my eyes close for a moment, sighing heavily as I replayed all the events from the night, a particular sentence I uttered rang louder than the others.

"If you don't see anything wrong with being a demon then you deserve to burn."

Ah...now I've done it. Now how am I supposed to bring up the cancellation of the deal? I basically told him he's on his own and-- I groaned, cutting my thoughts off, rubbing my hands over my face.

"I can't believe just how far you've actually fallen."

That voice! I shifted immediately, getting into a fighting stance but I wasn't quick enough. I struggled against his grip, my internal wound still not completely healed, my movements slowed by them. I clawed at the hand he had around my throat, glaring down at him as he lifted me up high into the air, my feet dangling.

"Ceri," I spat out, the anger in my eyes intensifying the moment I saw him smirk, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

His smirk turned into a grin, our surroundings changing in the blink of an eye, "I'm just following orders, I'm sure you don't mind...right? This very important person wanted to see you and I just couldn't find it in me to refuse her."

My ears perked up as he spoke, hearing the sound of footsteps approaching us. It didn't take me very long to figure out who this "her" was. There's only one bitch in hell that has Ceri at her beck and call and has the gall to do something like this. She stepped out of the shadows, her violet colored eyes glowing as the moonlight reflected off of them. I dug my claws into Ceri's wrists the moment my eyes met hers, twisting the bones in his arm seconds later. He let out a cry of pain, letting me go to cradle his arm close to his chest. I landed on my feet, shaking Ceri's blood off my fingers. Rolling my shoulders I felt my wings extend, my rage unmatched about being summoned to a place like this by a cunt like her.

"Pride...you have a lot of fucking guts doing this. I take it you finally want to die today, huh?" I asked with a growl, seeing her eyes waver at the sight of me but she stood her ground.

Fine. If it's a fight she wants it's a fight she's gonna get.

.

.

.

Tags : @chanyeolol​

[coneygoil]

The Home We Built Together, part 30

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29

Writer’s note: The 19th marked one year that I first posted this fic!! It’s amazing to see how far it’s come! 

Her breathing was even now.

Astrid had fallen asleep against his side, her head resting upon his slender chest. Hiccup hadn’t loosened his hold on her. He couldn’t, not after almost losing her.

His heart had plummeted to the bottom of his stomach when he realized Astrid had fallen from the saddle. There was little comfort when he looked back to find she’d landed on a ledge. The red dragon had instantly sensed her presence there.

“We gotta go back, bud!”

Toothless didn’t hesitate firing at the red dragon. He aimed for its most vulnerable part – the eyes (and Night Furies never miss) -- and the dragon retreated, furious and snarling. The short window gave them enough time to rescue Astrid.

There was a lot to be said and discussed. A plan to formulate. A village and a whole fleet of dragons to protect. But now was not the time.

Hiccup had noticed Astrid’s behavior after the rescue. She was clearly shaken and upset, but when she collapsed in his arms sobbing uncontrollably, it was then that Hiccup realized how deeply it had affected her. Astrid was a pillar of strength, and to see her in such a state of distress had jarred him.

A new commitment welled up inside him. A fierce need to protect that he’d never experience before.

Hiccup was always the one in need of protection. He was the talking fishbone that could barely lift a weapon. He never had to worry about anyone but himself, really. But now? There was more at stake than just his puny well being.

Hiccup squeezed Astrid’s sleeping form a little closer against him, planting a tender kiss to her golden crown. He kept his lips pressed in her hair and whispered the three words he wished to utter aloud, “I love you.”

As if his confession stirred her from slumber, Astrid shifted in his arms. Her hair brushed his jawline as she lifted her head to sleepily look at him. Hiccup waited with bated breath. Had she heard his confession? Would she return the endearment? The first signs of daylight were peeking on the horizon, and the lamp continued to burn low on the bedside table. She blinked her eyes, still puffy from the breakdown she’d had not even a couple hours before.

Astrid cupped his cheek, her fingertips brushing softly on his skin. Hiccup nuzzled into her palm. He’d never had the chance to feel a loving touch before. He never knew his mother and his father only held him as a young boy. He’d longed for something his skin had never experienced. But now, he could have it and he closed his eyes to savor the caress of Astrid’s hand upon his cheek.

He was pleasantly surprised with a soft kiss that he returned in sweet pecks. They continued to plant little kisses on each other’s lips as Astrid pull him with her to sit up on the bed. They’d both gotten better at kissing, having lots of practice as of late. Hiccup was thankful they’d gotten passed the awkward dance of shyness of expressing their affections.  

With hand upon the back of his neck, Astrid drew him into a deeper kiss. A kiss that told of unspoken need. A kiss that told of unspoken of love. Astrid broke away, though only mere inches from Hiccup’s face. Their heavy breathes warmed each other’s faces. He longed to capture her lips with his once more, to pour out the love that were overflowing inside of him.

Then Astrid spoke the words that made his heart soar, “I want to be your wife in every way.”

He searched her face, the reassurance of her gaze leading him on. This was what he’d longed for. “I want to be your husband in every way.”

***

Rap. Rap.

Hiccup’s face scrunched at the loud noise banging in his head.

Rap. Rap. Rap.

He groaned at the noise banging faster. He rolled over to hide under his pillow, or at least he would have if he wouldn’t have been held down. He blinked away the blur in his vision to find an arm strapped over his chest. The golden crown of his wife was cushioned against his shoulder, and her leg was thrown over his. She was cuddled up to him like he was an oversized stuffed toy.

“Hiccup? Astrid?” the all-too familiar heavy lilt of Gobber called from outside.

Why was Gobber at their front door? Hiccup peered out the window, eyes widening in realization. It had to at least be lunchtime!

“Astrid!” he hissed, taping her arm splayed over his chest. She’d never slept this deeply before, and Hiccup wondered why she was so tired-

Oh.

The thoughts of their union just a couple hours ago suddenly slammed into his memory like a magnificent, engulfing wave. The innocent exploration of each other’s bodies. The awkward positioning as they figured out how to fit together. The satisfying pants on one another’s faces at the height of pleasure that hit all too soon. The odd thought that, yes, there was blood afterwards mingled in just as Astrid had said on their wedding night. Heat flushed on his face when Hiccup remembered they didn’t bother redressing and were sleeping against each other in their birthday suits.

Astrid rolled off him, eyes slit open just enough to see him. “Huh?”

Hiccup jumped out of bed. “Gobber is here looking for us. I think it’s lunchtime already!” Glancing down at himself, he flushed at his bare skinny body. No time to linger on the fact that he was completely nude in the middle of the day in front of his wife. He fumbled with his shirt that had been strewn on the floor, shivering at the chill of it on his warm skin. Not bothering to put on undershorts, he tugged on pants, nearly falling over in the process. He dashed down the stairs to the bottom floor, dodging furniture on the way to the front door.

Hiccup yanked open the door, revealing Gobber with hook hand half raised to knock. “Hey, Gobber,” he greeted, slightly winded. Hiccup tried to look casual as he leaned against the door, planting the other hand on his hip and giving a toothy smile that wasn’t fooling a yak.

“Hiccup, you and Astrid missed dragon training this morning. I was wondering if one of those beasts had eaten you two for breakfast.”

Hiccup focused a chuckle, trying to hold up his pants that he carelessly tied on while stumbling down the stairs. “No. Me and Astrid had a long night.” He feigned an exaggerated yawn. “We uh… just overslept.”

Gobber narrowed his beady eyes suspiciously then the older man’s bushy eyebrows lifted into his forehead. His mustache spread into a wide smile. “Oh, I see.” He leaned in close as if there were people around that might hear. There was actually no one nearby. “Did you two finally decide to take your honeymonth?”

If this was anyone besides Gobber, Hiccup would have been terrified of the consequences. But even so, he went stock still.

Gobber chuckled lightly. “Oh, don’t worry, Hiccup. Your secret is safe with me. It’s okay that it didn’t happen right away. You two are young and still discovering your bodies. Ye just needed to get some practice in before the big event.”

Hiccup raked twitchy fingers through his hair that was most likely disheveled more than usual. As much as he wanted to sink into a hole talking about the private matter, he was thankful it was Gobber as the listening ear. Gobber was probably the only one in the entire village who’d take an understanding to their decision to wait. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

Gobber straightened as he stood back. “You two kids take all the time ye need. I’ll see ye back at work when you’re ready.” He winked before lumbering off in the direction of the forge.

Hiccup stood there in the doorway wondering if that conversation actually just happened. They’d been a bit of controversy about him and Astrid not taking their honeymonth (but when was anything involving Hiccup not met with controversy). It was never addressed to them face to face, but Hiccup overheard hushed tones around the corners of buildings and passing conversation in the Great Hall. Why was the Chief’s son not spending the time with his new bride? But their consummation had been confirmed (though a little deceitfully), and they’d had permission from the Chief to continue their duties only because of the fast approaching winter months and the need to train the newest warriors for Berk’s defense against dragon raids.

Shaking himself out of his bewildering contemplation, Hiccup shut the door.

“Did Gobber give you an earful?”

Hiccup spun around to find Astrid at the top of the stairs. Dressed in a red tunic. His red tunic. With pale, bare legs extending from the hem. He stared, awestruck, mouth slightly gaping. He’d never seen her in red, but he knew instantly he wanted to see her in that color more often.

Hiccup swallowed. “He let us off the hook.” He gravitated toward Astrid descending the stairs like she was a magnet pulling him in. As if just the sheer act of kissing her wasn’t enough to make him think he was living in an amazing dream, his mind shifted once again to their marriage bed. How his lips yearned to kiss the column of her neck and beyond. “Somehow he figured out we hadn’t yet…y’know—” Hiccup laced his fingers together.

Astrid laughed softly. “If you wouldn’t have acted so obvious whenever he brought it up.”

“How am I supposed to act when talking about…that?” Most Viking men talked quite bluntly and with no shame about the makings of their marriage bed. If Hiccup was supposed to start talking that openly about his and Astrid’s privacy, then he’d rather stay in his perpetual awkward state.

Astrid sighed with a little grunt and met him in the middle of the room. “I don’t know.” Her hand found his shoulder while her other lingered on his chest, teasing the skin between his loosened shirt ties. “I’m happy we became husband and wife completely.”

Hiccup felt the breath in his lungs shudder in delight. His hands found her hips. Astrid snaked arms around his neck as he drew her closer. “Me too.” He couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed his lips. “Gobber excused us from our duties.”

Astrid grinned, twirling a lock of his hair around her finger. “That means we can—”

“Go fly Toothless farther again--Ow!” Hiccup retreated into a defensive position when Astrid’s fist smacked his shoulder. “What was that for!?”

Astrid crossed arms over her chest. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m competing with a dragon for your affection.” Her mouth was an unamused straight line, but her eyes still held a twinkle.

“Toothless can’t give me this,” he replied in a deep suave tone. He pulled her by the biceps, planting a gentle peck on her lips. He shrugged a shoulder, looking thoughtful. “I mean, he could but it’d be way slobberier.”

Astrid’s grin was back. “I can hit you again, if you’d like?”

They dissolved into laughter until the moment had passed.

“What’re we going to do about the dragon’s nest?” The question sobered the mood and laid a heavy blanket of burden around them.

Hiccup frowned. “I don’t know. Not yet, at least.” The fear that clinched his heart when the massive dragon emerged from the pit returned, but that was nothing compared to losing Astrid off the back of Toothless. He could still feel the sensation of her sobbing in his arms and the fierce need to protect her that had awoken inside him.

Caressing her cheek, he vowed to her with all that was inside him, “I promise, I’ll protect you.”

Astrid search his eyes then shook her head, determined and strong as the Astrid he knew. “No, Hiccup. We protect each other.”

They held each other there in the middle of the living room, the promise bonding them together. Hiccup never knew he could feel this intensely for anything, but as they stayed there, he knew without a shadow of doubt that he’d formulate a plan to protect Berk and the dragons and Toothless. But most of all, the girl that he loved.

***

Writer’s note: It finally happened! I’d gone back and forth ever since I started this fic with whether I’d have them consummate the marriage during this fic. As the story progressed, it felt like it should happen. I’m not completely satisfied how some of this chapter came out. There were two moments that I’d been working up to and I felt I didn’t emphasize them enough. But I’ve been working on this chapter for like nearly a month now and if those parts hadn’t improved yet, then they probably weren’t going to. I’m happy with how the story is playing out and there’s so many more big things that are about to happen!

Thank you to all y’all who are keeping up with this story! I really hoped y’all are getting the same enjoyment I’m getting from writing it <3

Tags:  @martabm90​ @chiefhiccstrid @drchee5e @celtictreemuffin @hey-its-laura-again

[georgialouisea]

Never Be His  - Part 5

Pairing - Jensen x Reader, EX Jared x Reader, Rosie (ofc).

Warnings - Angst, fluff, talk of cheating, swearing, divorce.

Word Count - 3.5k.

Part 4 - Series Masterlist

Jared looked up from the papers splayed out on the table in front of him. “You’re sure about this?” He asked fiddling with the lid on the pen in his hands.

Nodding at him from where you sat across the table. “Yes.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the house? It’s bigger for you and Rosie.”

“I’m sure, I have my apartment, we’ll move when it gets too small, keep the house.”

“The cars-”

“I keep mine, you keep yours.”

“What about-”

Reaching across the table you took his hand in yours, ignoring the way his lawyer Peter was watching your every move with a scowl. “We’ve been through this Jared, I have everything I need, everything both of us need, as long as Rosie has everything she ever wants in life that’s all I want.”

“There’s nothing else I can give you?”

“Mr Padalecki,” Peter spoke up for the first time.

“No, Jared anything you want to give me put it into Rosie’s college fund.”

Squeezing your hand he dropped the pen onto the table. “What can I do to make this better?”

“Help me raise our daughter with two parents who love her more than anything in the world, we make this  as easy as we can for each other and I think we can make this work Jare.”

“I promise when we sign this, this is it, our future apart and raising Rosie together but I need you to tell me now if there’s anything else you want.”

“Jared, stop it, just because you feel bad-”

“I do.”

“Trust me I have everything I need, everything our daughter needs, we just plan for her future okay?”

“Promise me something?” Squeezing your hand he smiled at you.

“Jared,” Peter warned.

Ignoring the lawyer you kept your eyes on Jared. “What?”

“If you need anything in the future, even if it’s years down the line I don’t care what it is or how much it costs promise me you’ll ask, just because I’m not married to you doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.”

“Jared.” His name left your lips with a sigh.

Squeezing your hand hard his eyes met yours. “Y/N.”

“I promise.”

Letting go of your hand he picked the pen back up. “We’re really doing this.” He sighed looking at you with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” Watching him sign the papers you wiped a tear away as it rolled down your cheek.

Putting the cap back on the pen he placed it next to the freshly signed documents. “Are we done here?” He asked keeping his eyes locked on the table in front of him.

“Yes, we are.” His lawyer stood up collecting the papers from in front of Jared. “If there are any issues we’ll be in contact.” Lifting his head he addressed Jane your lawyer.

She smiled at him giving him a small nod. “Of course.”

Jane was recommended to you by a friend of a friend, she was a cutthroat lawyer. When you first sat down with her she was fully prepared to take Jared for everything the house, cars, everything he owned and also suing him in the process for the potential impact this could have on your career. When you told her that’s not what you wanted she was beyond confused, you could take everything from him after what he did and you didn’t want to. Neither of your signed a prenup you’d shared everything when you were married. You proposed to just take what was yours, Jared soon countered with a straight 50/50 split, Jane told you to take it. A husband offering his soon to be ex-wife more money wasn’t something that happened often.

That’s how you ended up here with lawyers who wanted more from the other party, neither one fully satisfied with the result. You just wanted the whole thing to be over so you could focus on your daughter and your career, so you could move on.

“I’ll call you,” Jane whispered as she stood up, her hand resting on your shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“Mr Padalecki?” Peter adjusted the papers in his hands as he glanced towards where Jared sat across the table from you.

“Yeah, I’ll be right out.” Jared gave a small nod, not fully lifting his head.

“Y/N?” Jane looked down at you.

“Can you give me a minute?” Glancing towards Jared she nodded, turning on her heel. She followed Peter out of the room shutting the door behind them.

“Are you okay?” Jared asked as he looked up letting the tears fall down his cheeks.

“Not really, are you?” You asked him already knowing the answer as you watched the tears run their course down his face.

Shaking his head he sniffed as he ran a hand down his face, wiping the tears from his cheeks his palms ran up and down his thighs. Standing up he walked around the table coming to a stop next to your chair, standing up he wrapped his arms around you pulling you against his chest, your arms were trapped between your bodies, slowly pulling them to your side you slowly wrapped them around his waist.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“I know you are Jared.” Running your hand up and down his back he held you tighter. Holding him close you took a deep breath. “We’re doing this for Rosie.”

“Yes.” Pulling away from you he smiled at you. “For Rosie, is she with Jensen?”

“No, she’s with my Mom.”

“Your Mom’s here?” He asked clearing his throat.

“Yeah, she’s been here for a few days, she’s flying home tonight.”

“Oh, I bet it’s been nice having her here.”

“I mean I could do without a few comments.” You shrugged.

“About me?”

“Some of them.”

“Can I ...erm … no, nevermind your Mom’s at yours.”

“You wanna see Rosie don’t you?”

“Can I?”

“Of course.” Pulling your handbag off the chair you pulled out your sunglasses putting them on you looked up at him. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

“No, you’re hiding it well, wish I’d thought of it.”

“I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll follow you to yours?”

“Sure just give me like half an hour.”

“Okay.” He nodded.

Smiling at him you left the room, keeping your head down as you walked through the building towards the garage, the last thing you wanted was to be recognised, not today.

-

Walking into your apartment your Mom’s bags were already packed and waiting by the front door. She was doing you a huge favour looking after Rosie you knew she’s offered to look after her granddaughter just so she could keep an eye on you too. She knew you had Jensen in your life and she wanted to see for herself that you were okay. The last thing she wanted to do was leave you tonight and if she could get more time off work she’d stay for weeks, she knew it was always going to be a short trip to see her girls.

“Y/N, sweetie that you?” She asked as she walked out of Rosie’s nursery.

“Yeah.” Dropping your bag down on the couch, pulling your sunglasses off your head you threw them down onto the table.

“How did it go?” She asked resting a hand on your back.

“Fine, it was fine.” Walking into the kitchen you opened the fridge pulling a bottle of white wine out you put it down on the counter top. “Want a glass?”

“Sure, honey do you want to talk about it?”

Pulling two glasses out of the cupboard, uncorking the bottle you half filled the two glasses. “Not really, not yet.” Picking up the glasses you handed her one. “Is Rosie asleep?”

Shaking her head she smiled at you. “Not yet, she’s tired though.”

“What times your flight?”

“Seven.”

“I’ll call you a cab later on.”

“Thanks, sweetie.”

Sitting down on the couch your Mom sat in the armchair next to the couch. “You can talk to me about anything, you know that right?”

“I know, trust me I know, I think I just need a little time to process.”

“Whenever you’re ready.” Taking a sip from her glass a smile tugged at her lips. “Is Jensen coming over tonight?”

“Yeah, I think so, he’s working today.”

A knock at the door made your stomach drop, nearly slamming your glass down on the coffee table you looked towards your Mom taking a deep breath. “Please, please don’t make a scene.”

“What are you talking about?” She asked putting her glass next to yours.

Your Mom hadn’t seen Jared since you’d found out he cheated. “He wanted to see Rosie.” Walking towards your door you opened it.

“Hi.” Jared smiled at you, his eyes a lot redder and puffier than they had been when you left him in the lawyer's office.

“Hi, come in.” Taking a step back you let him into your apartment.

“Thanks, you doing okay?” He asked as he took in every inch of your face.

“Are you?”

“I will be.”

Shutting the door behind him you took a second to compose yourself before you turned around. A crack ripped through the room you knew what you were going to see before you even looked over your shoulder.

Jared’s hand covered his cheek, your Mom all 5 foot 4 of her stood glaring up at your ex-husband. “You are the stupidest man to ever walk this earth, with everything you had at home a beautiful wife who gave you a daughter and you still chose to cheat on her.”

“Mom.” Taking a step towards them Jared reached a hand out stopping you.

“You lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you for a roll around in the sheets if you weren’t Rosie’s Father I’d make sure you have nothing to do with my daughter ever again.” Pointing a finger in his face, glancing towards you, you shook your head and she quickly backed down.

“Jared, Rosie’s in her room she should still be awake.”

“Can I?” He asked pointing his thumb towards the nursery.

“Yeah, go see her.” Watching him walk towards your daughter’s nursery you turned to your Mom. “Please no more comments when he comes out, we’re trying to figure this out.”

“I promise.” She nodded with a sigh. “I still want to knock his head off his fucking shoulders.”

“I know you do.”

She sat down in the armchair grabbing her wine glass she took a few large sips. “Damn fool.”

“I know, I know.”

The front door opened behind you, Jensen walked in with a pizza box in his hand and a grocery bag hanging off his arm. “I have pizza and wine.” He announced kicking the door shut behind him. “Hi Mrs Y/L/N.”

“Jensen, I’ve told you before it’s Sarah.”

Leaning in he kissed your cheek. “Hi, beautiful.”

“Hi.”

“You doing okay?”

“I am now you’ve brought food.”

Jared cleared his throat behind you both. “Erm, she’s asleep, I’m gonna go, I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll show myself out.” He started walking towards the door.

“Jared.” Taking a step towards him he stopped when he reached the door, turning to face you.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

With a small nod, he smiled at you as he left your apartment.

“I’m going to head to the apartment.” Your Mom stood up.

“Your flight isn’t for another two hours.”

“I like to be early.” She shrugged.

“Do you want a ride?” Jensen offered.

“No, no you stay here and enjoy your pizza.” She smiled at him. “I’ll call a cab.” Walking towards you she hugged you hard. “If you need me you know where I am.”

“Thank you.”

Jensen held his phone to his ear as he called your Mom a cab.

“He’s sweet.” She whispered as she pulled away from you. “A keeper.” She added with a wink.

“Mom.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome if you need me you know where I am.”

“Cab’s on its way,” Jensen announced putting his phone down on the countertop.

“Thank you, darling.” She smiled as she walked towards him, glancing over her shoulder at him.

Taking the hint you left them alone, walking into your bedroom you changed out of your white blouse and grey pencil skirt.

“Look after her.” Your Mom half asked, half threatened.

“Of course I will.” Jensen nodded. “I promise.”

“This has been hard enough on her as it is, when the public find out who knows what will happen, with you by her side I think she’ll be okay, you’ve been a life saver for her Jensen, thank you for behind here for her when I couldn’t be.”

“Sure.”

“But I swear to you if you hurt her the way Jared has I’ll cut your dick off yourself.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, I’m not going to hurt her I never will.” His phone vibrated across the countertop, checking it he put it back down. “Your cabs here, Y/N!”

“I’m here.” Walking back into the lounge in a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt with a faded ‘friends’ logo across the front. “Are you going?”

“Yes, my cab’s here, I’ll come back and visit soon.” Giving you one last hug she grabbed her bags.

“I’ll walk you down Sarah.”

“I’ll be fine, enjoy your pizza while it’s hot.”

“Goodbye, Mom.”

“Goodbye sweetheart.”

---

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jensen asked before taking a sip from his wine glass, his hand gently running up and down your thigh as you lounged on the couch with him, your legs thrown over his lap.

“He offered me the house again.”

“What did you say?” Leaning forwards he put the glass down on the table.

“I don’t want it, I’m happy here, then he brought up the cars and I told him I have everything I want and need, he made me promise if I ever need anything even if it’s in ten years time that I’ll ask him for it, he doesn’t care what it is or how much it costs if I need anything he wants me to ask.”

“He still loves you.” Jensen’s hand stopped moving on your thigh. “What about Rosie?”

“We’re carrying on with how we have been with her, she’s spending the majority of the time with me, when I’m working and Jared’s not he’s looking after her and for a night or two during the week, we haven’t figured out the holidays yet but we will.”

Giving your thigh a small squeeze he smiled. “I’m proud of you, how’re you feeling?”

“Better than I thought I would.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, I think it is, I thought this whole thing would go so differently, it’s a relief to know he isn’t fighting me that he’s making this as easy for me as he can.”

“He feels guilty.” He gave a small shrug. He’s trying to get you to forgive him.”

“How do you know that?”

“He asked me last week what he can do to make this better, I told him to talk to you.”

“So that’s why he came to my trailer to talk.” Recalling last week it answered a few questions you had. Your hand covered his on your thigh, your fingers interlinking with yours. “We’re going to be okay aren’t we?”

“Of course we are, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” He asked as his palm cupped your cheek.

“A lot.” You sighed.

“You’ve had a long emotionally tiring day, c’ mon let’s go to bed.” Bringing your knuckles to his lips he kissed them. “I’ll lock up.”

Pulling your legs off his he let go of your hand. “I’ll check on Rosie.” Getting up from the couch you walked towards your daughter’s room, looking down at her as she slept in her crib you couldn’t help but smile, she was beautiful, as her hair grew longer it got darker, you saw more of Jared in her every day. Brushing her hair out of her face she didn’t stir at your touch. Leaving her to sleep you walked back through your now very dark apartment, crawling into bed next to Jensen you flicked off the lamp on your nightstand. Rolling over you cuddled up to him, reaching out he turned off his lamp, pulling you closer his arm wrapped around your waist, resting your head on his chest you took a deep breath.

“You okay?” He mumbled.

“Yeah, I think I am.”

--

Everyone expected it to be awkward on set between the three of you with you and Jared newly divorced and you and Jensen newly together. What they didn’t expect is what happened which was the complete opposite. Jared made everything as easy as possible for you, by making it easier for you he made it easier for himself. He didn’t fight back about your relationship with Jensen or him being around your daughter, something you highly expected him to do. He was making it easier for you to move on, he was doing what he promised he’d do help you raise Rosie together.

After a few months things shifted, everything became more comfortable as you all got used to the situation, you felt like you’d been living like this for years. Jared and Jensen’s relationship slowly went back to what it had been before all of this, they were able to laugh and joke around on set again they started hanging out outside of work again. You didn’t want Jared to lose his best friend and you, it was a relief to see them together again. Your relationship with Jared also changed you slowly became friends again, you didn’t hate the sight of him. At first, it was to try and make things easier for Rosie but now you were genuinely friends with your ex-husband, something you never saw happening.

The day you and Jared posted statements addressing the separation was definitely one of the hardest days of your life. As soon as you posted in comments, calls and texts came flooding in. Switching your phone off you spent the whole day on set even when you were done filming, when you didn’t answer your phone the boys came looking for you. They soon found you in Jensen’s trailer laying in bed with Rosie tucked up against your side, her head resting on your stomach.

“You doing okay?” Jensen asked sitting down at the end of the bed.

“Not really, I don’t dare turn my phone back on.” Sighing you ran your fingers through Rosie’s hair.

“It’s not bad,” Jared spoke as he rested against the doorframe. “Everyone is just making sure we’re okay, I’ve had a few follow-up calls checking you’re okay because you’re not answering your phone.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, people understand why you’ve done it, how long has she been like that for?” He asked nodding towards your sleeping daughter.

“Not long.” You smiled down at her. “While she’s comfy and quiet I thought I’d leave her.”

“We’re nearly done filming.” Jensen’s hand rested on your knee. “We can go home soon.”

“Don’t rush it, we’re happy here.”

Jared’s phone dinged in his pocket, pulling it out he looked at the screen a smile growing on his face.

“Now you can’t be that happy the world knows you’re single.” You teased him.

“He’s met someone.” Jensen chuckled.

“You have? What’s her name? Tell me everything, why didn’t you tell me anything sooner?” Slapping Jensen’s thigh you accidentally woke your daughter in the process.

When she opened her eyes and saw Jared she sat up crawling across the bed towards him, scooping her up he kissed her cheek. “Hey, baby girl.”

“Hey no, don’t use our daughter to change the subject.” Sitting up Jensen wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Well, it’s very new, she works on the show, her name’s Gen.”

“Gen? The woman playing Ruby?”

“Yeah.” He nodded with a smile on his face.

“Jared she’s lovely, I met her last week.”

“Yeah, she is, I actually wanted to talk to you two about tonight, I know I asked to have her tonight is there any chance you guys can have her tonight and I’ll have her tomorrow.”

“Hot date?” Jensen asked with a smirk.

“She’s coming over I’m gonna cook us dinner, is that okay?” He asked focusing on you.

“Yeah, sure.”

Someone knocked on Jensen’s trailer door. “Jensen we need you on set.”

“Gotta go, I’ll be done soon.” Kissing your cheek he stood up walking out of his trailer leaving you alone with Jared.

“Are you okay with this? I was going to tell you myself I just didn’t think today would be the best day to do it.”

“If you’re happy that’s all that matters.”

“I am.” He nodded, chuckling when Rosie grabbed a fistful of his hair. “Are you? With Jensen, are you happy?”

“Really happy.”

“Good.” Pulling his hair out of Rosie’s grasp he smiled at you.

Another knock at the trailer door interrupted you. “Jared we need you too!”

“I’ve gotta run, I’ll pop my head in later see how you’re doing.” Bending down he got Rosie settled next to you.

“Okay, we’ll see you later.” Pulling your daughter into your lap she sat looking at Jared. “Say bye to Daddy.” Waving bye to Jared you smiled when Rosie did the same. “Good girl, say bye Daddy.”

Jared waved back at her with a grin on his face. “Bye baby girl, I’ll see you later.” Straightening up his focus turned to you. “Y/N.”

“Jared.”

“I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“I’m happy you’re happy too.”

“I’ll see you later?” He asked as he came to a stop in front of the door.

“Yeah, we’ll still be here, see you later Jared.”

Pulling the remote off the nightstand you turned on the TV pressing play on the little mermaid you got comfortable with Rosie. “You know what baby girl, I think everything is going to be okay.”

Part 6 

Forever Taglist - 

@mega-loser1298 @smalltowndivaj @roxyspearing @emoryhemsworth @dwgrl1903 @cassieraider @deans-baby-momma @mogaruke @heyitscam99 @mouselovesmusic @supernaturaldean67 @atc74 @witchofenoch @malindacath @skathan-omaha @ain-t-bovvered @beffyblueeyes @serienjunkiegirl @jchona @polina-93 @thefangirlliveson @rhochradel @juanitadiann @amandamdiehl @dixonsunicorn @deanzeppeloin @katieelementarymydearwatsonme @atlas-of-the-world @chelsea072498 @dean-winchesters-bacon @racheo91 @mrswhozeewhatsis @death-unbecomes-you @brewsthespirit-blog @shann-the-artist-moon @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @claitynroberts @spnwoman @angelsandwinchesters @smoothdogsgirl @cdwmtjb8 @perkypolarbear @thisismysecrethappyplace @tatertot1097 @jessieray98 @gh0stgurl @starfirerules @kcrews74 @calaofnoldor @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @screechingartisancashbailiff @malindacath @kolelondon24 @natura1phenomenon @thehufflepuffblog @lemondropirwin @babypink224221 @mariekoukie6661 @mymysosa @blackcherrywhiskey @lonely-skys @titty-teetee @foreverwayward @81mysteriouslyme @x-waywardaf-x @blueberrykushlovexoxo-blog @paintballkid711 @sandlee44 @deanwinchesterswitch @supernatural-harrypotter7 @ilovefanfic86  @sleepylunarwolf @lauravic @caryswhogoesbothways @broadwaybaby25

Jensen -

@akshi8278 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @adoptdontshoppets @liebemeineslebensx @hhiggs @clarewinchester

Never Be His - 

@kylee247 @saving-captain-hook @gh0stgurl @invisibledevour @keithseabrook27 @bobasheebaby @racheo91 @me-han10 @justkending @adriux93 @allonsy-yesiwill @brinnalaine @kylee247 @jessie9008 @janicho88 @holyfuckloueh @chelseadanielle19 @pretty-fortune @closetspngirl @fashionablepenguin07 @cocklesbelli @waywardrose13 @cap-just-said-language @supersupernaturalfan @time-travel-bouqet

[ft-dads-au]

Chance Encounter - Chapter 4

Home for the Holidays 2019 Prompt: Gatherings A collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​ AO3 | FF.Net | Prev: Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Next: Ch 5

6:00 pm - 6:20 pm Snack/Social Time

When Rogue and Gildarts entered the daycare center, several club attendees were already present, standing together and chatting around a table whose entire surface was covered in snacks and drinks. Rogue didn't pay much attention to them. Although he could go for a coffee, the twins were starting to squirm in their stroller seats. The change of surroundings had sparked their interest, which wasn't all that surprising since this room had been designed with young children in mind, and since they had been shackled for so long already, Rogue thought they deserved to be let out to play first.

He parked the stroller in a corner where it wouldn't be in anyone's way, putting the brakes on and grabbing the diaper bag before unbuckling Haku. He wasn't spreading any unpleasant smells yet, still carrying that wonderful scent of fresh clothes and baby lotion, so he was approved to join the other kids in the play area.

Two teenagers, a boy, and a girl were looking after the playing children, and Rogue guessed they were the ones providing the babysitting service that was mentioned. The boy seemed somewhat familiar. At first, Rogue couldn't remember where he'd met him, but as he studied his face a little bit more, it finally clicked. This had to be Macao's son, whose picture he had been shown yesterday. The girl, however, he was sure he had never seen before.

"Good evening!" she greeted him with a sweet smile, "I'm Wendy, and what's this little angel's name?" She crouched down next to Haku as Rogue put him on the floor.

"This is Haku, he's only six months old, so you need to be careful," Rogue recited, handing the diaper bag over and already feeling nervous at the idea of having someone else watch their sons.

"Don't you worry, Sir. Both Romeo and I have earned our babysitter's certificate. We even trained in infant CPR, Haku is going to be just fine!" Wendy, who seemed so very young to Rogue's eyes, smiled at him reassuringly, but all he heard was CPR.

“CPR, why would he need CPR?!”

“Oh dear, that was supposed to make you feel better,” Wendy’s eyes watered at Rogue’s distress.

“No, no. I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Rogue fought between his desire to grab Haku in his arms and wanting to boost the girl’s self-esteem, “Uhm, I’ll be right back with his brother.”

Rogue tried not to think of Sting’s reaction to that little fiasco, he’d never live it down. He grabbed Kuro out of the stroller, thankful there was enough activity to hold the infant’s attention. Kuro rewarded him with a gummy smile and a smack on the head from his red dragon.

He could hear an amused chuckle behind him, followed by Kuro becoming increasingly wiggly in his arms. Rogue turned to see Sting walking towards him, his work bag slung diagonally across his chest and a bright smile at the ready.

"Hey, babe!" Sting pulled him into a quick hug, being careful not to squish Kuro between them.

Once they separated, Sting grabbed the ever more frantic Kuro in his arms, "Hey monster! Did you miss me? Where's your partner in crime?"

Kuro began to grunt, eagerly responding to the sound of his father's voice, and although Sting smiled at his efforts, his attention was immediately captured by the sight of food, "Is that food for everyone? I'm starving!"

Before Rogue had a chance to respond, Sting had already made his way over to the table, with Kuro still held in his arms. He began piling food onto a plate and grabbing a couple of juice boxes. To Rogue's utter dismay, Gildarts walked straight over to him.

“Heey, you must be Mr. Half-Pint!" Gildarts exclaimed, slapping his hand enthusiastically on Sting's shoulder as he recognized Kuro.

“Who?” Sting mumbled through the food that had already made it into his mouth.

“Rogue’s husband?”

“Oh, yeah!” Sting agreed cheerfully, once he’d swallowed, “Sting Eucliffe, nice to meet you. And you are?”

“Gildarts Clive, at your service. I’m one of the men running this club. That’s an Edolas accent, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I travel quite a bit in my line of work,” Gildarts replied, “I’ve been to Edolas a few times, beautiful country. Anyway, it was nice chatting with you, I need to introduce myself to a few others, seems we have a lot of new members tonight. Enjoy the snacks.”

Gildarts moved on to his next victim, and Rogue took the opportunity to grab Kuro from Sting. He took him over to Wendy, who had already set up a blanket and toys from the diaper bag for Haku to play with. For his part, Haku looked quite content.

"This is the angel's twin, Kuro." Rogue sat him down next to his brother, his mind more at ease now that he'd seen how comfortable the children were around the two teens and the other way around. "Oh, a word of advice: make sure no one takes that dragon away from him. Trust me, he'll take tantrum to a whole new level."

"That's good to know, we'll keep a close eye on it," Wendy reassured him.

Rogue smiled at her, hoping to give off some friendlier vibes than he had earlier. Now that the kids were settled, it was time to get that coffee, but he hadn't made it to the snack table yet when one of the boys had started crying loudly already. He whirled back around, feeling both relieved and foolish when it just turned out to be Haku, who had noticed Sting and was calling for his attention. But Sting didn't respond to him at all, and if that wasn't strange enough already, both his posture and expression were alarmingly ambivalent. He was standing still in the middle of the room, snack plate in one hand and an open juice box just inches away from his face as if something had made him stop dead in his tracks. And when Rogue followed his line of vision he spotted Gildarts, talking to a silver-haired man, and…

Rogue could only be glad that he'd never grabbed that cup of coffee because if he had, he would inevitably have spilled it all over himself. He blinked several times, not trusting what his eyes were showing him. If it weren't for the fact that Sting was acting oddly, he would have gladly accepted that he was suffering from a rather intense visual hallucination caused by seeing Gildarts again after so long.

As fate would have it, that wasn’t the only unexpected reunion shaking him up today. After not having spoken to each other since their last disastrous phone conversation six years earlier, Rogue was now standing just a few feet away from his older brother. He was getting ready to stomp over, not caring about causing a scene as his escalating emotions took over, when Macao announced:

"Alright, everyone, find a seat. It's time to start the meeting, and there are a lot of new faces tonight."

It distracted him for a second. The chatter died down, and everyone present in the room began finding their way to one of the chairs that had been set up in a large circle, but Rogue felt a treacherous tremble rising in his entire body. A voice in his head compelled him to ignore all social niceties and march right up to his bastard of a brother and give him a piece of his mind.

He was more than willing to heed it, but just as he was about to raise hell and disrupt the entire meeting, not to mention throw every last bit of professionalism out the window, Gildarts moved out of the way. And Rogue couldn't help but notice a timid looking boy standing in between his brother and the silver-haired man. Reality slammed into him like a truck as it quickly dawned on him that he had almost caused a scene in front of his children. Not to mention those of complete strangers and that little boy he had no trouble identifying as his own nephew, even though he hadn't been aware of his existence until a few seconds ago.

Rogue peered into big midnight blue eyes, so familiar they brought him back to the past, to a very similar pair of eyes belonging to the one person he used to look up to like no other. His flared up anger and frustration simmered down, transforming into melancholia and more of what he’d already faced today.

Guilt and shame weighed him down once again, making him oblivious to the fact that he was the only one who wasn’t getting seated until Sting grabbed his arm and steered him to one of the empty chairs. Rogue had no choice but to sit down, feeling Sting’s hand grab his own and squeeze it, his concerned eyes burning into Rogue’s skin as he sat next to him.

“Are you okay?”

Rogue had no answer to that.

6:20 pm - 6:30 pm Introductions

"Welcome to the Magnolia Dad's Club, my name is Macao Conbolt, and the man standing next to me is Gildarts Clive. We are the current runners of this club, so if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to come talk to us. Before we get started, I'd just like to let you know this club is for you and your family. Children are always welcome at meetings, but you can also come on your own."

Macao grabbed a piece of paper from a stack and held it up, ”Here are some flyers that contain more information on us and what we do so please feel free to help yourselves to one. Now, why don’t we get introductions started, who wants to go first?”

Rogue tried to listen to what was being said, the logical part of his brain reminding him he still needed more information for his article, but his mind refused to let things go.

When had Gray come home? Why hadn't he gotten in touch with him? He snuck a look to where his brother sat next to the silver-haired man and wondered who he was to his brother. Was this a friend, a new boyfriend? What had happened with his husband, and how old was his kid? Gray was staring at Gildarts with an expression Rogue couldn't identify until he realized Gray probably hadn't seen the man's prosthetics before.

One by one, different men stood up and introduced themselves, and Rogue heard not a word, waiting for the moment it would be his brother's turn, his mind still coming up with question after question until he felt Sting get up, pulling him up with him.

"Hi, I'm Sting Eucliffe, I'm a first-year pediatrics resident at the hospital, and this is my husband Rogue," Sting gestured toward him, and he waved weakly. "We are fathers to twin boys, Haku and Kuro, I'm sure you'll hear from them soon enough," Sting paused as several men chuckled at his joke. "I sort of got shanghaied here, but I have to admit I like what I've seen so far, and I look forward to being a part of it."

The twins began to cry at hearing Sting's voice, and he walked over to them, calling, "There they are," behind him to many laughs. He returned with both boys, handing Haku over for Rogue to take.

Rogue focused on making his son comfortable, and once he quieted, he looked up to see Gray watching them with a neutral expression. He looked away when he realized Rogue had noticed, speaking quietly to his companion and pulling the little boy onto his lap.

“Hey, my name is Gray Fer- uhm Fullbuster,” his brother began speaking, discomfort oozing from every word.

Finally! The moment Rogue had been waiting for had arrived, it was Gray's turn to speak, and just as he began to introduce himself, Rogue felt movement next to him.

“Everything okay, Half-Pint?” Rogue was startled to find Gildarts kneeling next to him and whispering in his ear, distracting him.

"Yeah, everything's great," Rogue hissed, trying to hear what Gray was saying.

“What else did I miss the last couple of years?” Gildarts frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in concern as he took in how tense Rogue was, “I can’t help but notice there’s something off here.”

Rogue thought of what he could possibly say that Gildarts would accept and would let him get back to Gray's introduction, but to his dismay, his brother had already sat down.

“I already said everything was fine,” Rogue snapped, angry he’d missed his chance to find out any information on his brother.

“Fine, sorry I asked,” Gildarts got up and handed Rogue a clipboard with a membership form, “Fill this out when you get a chance.”

Gildarts walked away, but for the rest of the introduction portion of the meeting, his gaze never strayed from either him or Gray, and Rogue was frustrated to see that the silver-haired man never introduced himself.

6:30 pm - 6:40 pm Recap of the last meeting

"Okay, we went over quite a bit, but that's alright," Macao glanced at his wristwatch before launching into a recap of the events of the last meeting.

Rogue whispered to Sting, “Did you get to hear anything?”

“Yeah, it looks like he’s going by Fullbuster again, and the little boy’s name is Aki. He’s about a year and a half.”

“That’s it?” Rogue couldn’t believe he’d gotten himself so worked up for so little information, but still, he now knew his nephew’s name. Aki.

"Sorry, babe, he didn't say anything else," Sting draped his arm over Rogue's shoulder, squeezing it briefly before pulling away.

“Warren has been gracious enough to volunteer to work on our website which he assures us will be done any day now,” Gildarts grinned at Warren who only groaned at the word volunteered, “and he’s also writing an app that we’ll be able to use for all scheduling and sign-ups.”

“Wait! When did I agree to that?” Warren complained.

“Sometime after your fourth beer, I think,” Macao reported to Warren’s horror.

“You guys were serious about that?!” Warren’s face paled as he realized how much work he’d signed up for, “My wife is gonna kill me!”

That sentiment earned a laugh from several of the men in attendance. Rogue heard a man joke to Sting, "Well, at least that's something you don't have to worry about," to which Sting chuckled nervously.

“Here,” Sting shook him gently before grabbing the clipboard from him and handing Kuro over, “The boys seem to be doing better, why don’t you take them back with the others, this is a great opportunity for them to get some socialization in.”

Rogue would usually get irritated when Sting got into pediatrician mode, but this time he was grateful. Attempting to sit still while he was in such turmoil was only driving him crazy. He cuddled both boys as he walked, drawing comfort from their warmth and sweet expressions.

He set them back on their play blanket, opting to stay with them for a few minutes. Wendy had been busy helping a group of little girls with art supplies, but Romeo came and sat with them.

“What’s it like?”

“Hmm?” Rogue peered at him uncomprehendingly.

“Having a baby, what’s it like?” Romeo asked again.

“Oh, it changes your entire life. You can kiss getting a good night’s sleep goodbye, and you have to kind of get used to the idea that you don’t come first anymore, but it’s okay because soon you won’t remember what your life was like before they were there.” Rogue replied with a smile.

Romeo didn't respond, but he knelt down to play with the twins, and with a wrinkle of his nose, he said, "I think this little guy needs a change."

“Oh, I can do that,” Rogue went to get the diaper bag only to find Romeo had already beaten him to it.

“Don’t worry about it, I can probably use the practice,” Romeo waved him away as he grabbed Haku and moved him over to one of the changing areas.

Rogue watched, ready to step in if needed, but Romeo seemed to have it all under control. Wendy returned, waving at him cheerfully as she began to play with Kuro, and Rogue found he had no excuses left to not return to the meeting.

He walked back towards Sting slowly, his mind tackling the problem at hand. Now that the initial shock was somewhat over, did he even want to speak to his brother? Gray had shut him out years ago, even though all he’d been trying to do was be a good brother. He'd abandoned him knowing full well Rogue didn't really have many other people in his life, and now here he was back in Magnolia, still shutting him out. How long had he already been in town?

Rogue was conflicted, the fact that he felt so hurt was a testament to how much he still cared, but he couldn't deny that there was also a lot of anger he’d yet to deal with. He'd almost decided to say fuck it to the whole situation when he noticed Gray's son, his nephew, walking towards the play area, moving slowly as he held on to the backs of the empty chairs he passed.

Rogue stayed where he was, noticing the little boy-Aki, his mind supplied helpfully- had stopped at the last chair and was watching him intently. Aki looked back towards Gray, but the draw of children’s laughter and colorful toys seemed to be more powerful. His eyes darted to the space behind Rogue, where the twins were playing with Wendy.

Rogue could see Gray attempting to stand up from his chair, and it irritated him. Seriously, what did his brother think he was going to do, grab Aki and run? To his amusement, the silver-haired man put his hand on Gray's thigh, forcing him to sit back down, whispering words into his brother's ear that Rogue couldn't hear. Gray looked unhappy by the rebuff, but he remained seated, his gaze following Aki's movements while keeping an eye on Rogue.

Rogue moved out of the way of the entrance, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. Aki surprised him by running past without giving him another look, and Rogue couldn't help but to turn and look to see what had drawn his nephew's attention.

“Hey, Aki!” Wendy greeted cheerfully as the little boy had stopped short of the blanket.

He kneeled and peered at one twin then the other with a puzzled expression. “Same?”

Wendy giggled, “They do look the same, don’t they?”

Aki nodded at her and smiled uncertainly.

"They're twins," Wendy smiled as she pointed at the boys, "This is Haku, and the one with the red dragon is Kuro. Would you like to play with us?"

“Yesh.”

“Come on then, just make sure not to take Kuro’s dragon, he doesn’t like it.” Wendy made room for Aki in the large blanket, grabbing a basket filled with small toys and placing it next to him.

Aki found a plastic phone and grabbed it, pushing the buttons and bouncing excitedly when they made sounds. Haku's eyes widened, and he began to bounce and laugh along.

And it was at that moment that Rogue got his answer. He did want to patch things up with his brother. It didn't matter what their argument had been about, or how much work it would be to fix it. He wanted this for his sons. Sting was an only child, and he only had one brother, their family was small enough as it was. They deserved all of it.

He observed his sons playing with their cousin for a few more minutes before going back to Sting with a smile on his face and a heart full of determination. He would reach out to Gray as soon as he saw an opening.