#/singing softly/ I’m alone on this awful boat……

[vvienne]

i require silly aus to muck around in and take too seriously or I will EXPLODE

[strangelysamantha]

cheerleader ❀

rafe cameron x plus!reader.

warnings: swearing, flirting, slight angst in the beginning (barely)

words: 2,365.

summary: rafe was intrigued by you, he wanted to get to know you. he thought that task would be easy, but your distaste for him was apparent. despite the overwhelming amount of setbacks, he knew he would get you to crack.

request? no :)

a/n: please like and comment if you enjoy! thank you, ilysm <3

my masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

most things rafe wanted, he easily got. it was a known fact. his parents were financially stable so they could afford to throw money down the drain for useless items that wouldn’t be used more than once. his popularity and name allowed him to get away with most things. except you. you seemed to not care about his wealth or his looks. you didn’t even care to give him the time of day. he took this as a challenge. he was destined to get you to like him if it was the last thing he did.

the first time he talked to you was during school. he thought his charm and popularity would make you swoon. instead, it was quite the opposite. he approached you at your locker, his smile bright. “hey. i’m rafe.” he extended his hand out to you. “hello, rafe.” you shake his hand back, before retreating your hand to your side. you stare at him in confusion. “uhm am i in the way of your locker?” you question, he shakes his head. “oh no, actually. i just wanted to introduce myself to you.” you nod your head. “well rafe, it was nice to meet you, i guess. but i’m running late for class.” you shut your locker, speeding off to class.

rafe stayed by your locker in awe. you really thought rafe was just waiting to get to his locker? it’s halfway through the school year, if his locker was by yours, you would have known by now. he embarrassingly walked away, heading to his first class. that awkward moment was lingering in his head, stuck on replay. your facial expression that showcased confusion stayed still in his mind. by third hour he was over it, not as embarrassed. he shrugged it off, excited to try again.

rafe actually didn’t know that much about you. he saw you in the halls occasionally. his interest in you peaked when he saw that you talked to topper a lot. since you were heavily associated with topper, he believed that it would be easy to befriend you. it’s clear to him now that isn’t the case. he can’t help but feel surprised at your lack of knowledge for him. everyone knows of rafe, and you should especially know because of how well you know topper.

regardless, rafe knew what he had to do. he needed to see topper, and investigate him. rafe pulled his phone out, texting topper to meet him.

topper met rafe in the boy’s bathroom before fourth period. they scoped the bathroom, ensuring to themselves that they could openly talk since they were alone. rafe didn’t hesitate, he immediately bombarded topper with questions about you. “what’s with the sudden interest?” topper asks, confused.

“i don’t know, i keep seeing her in the hallway and she stares at me.” topper nods, “well she does good academically, i know her because her family is friends with my family, she’s on the cheerleading team, i don’t know man. what info are you wanting?” the cheerleading team. rafe smiled to himself, you are a cheerleader. “that’s good enough, i just needed some info so i could know if i want to meet her or not.” topper laughed, “alright man. i gotta go.” rafe nodded, “see you later.” topper fist bumped rafe before walking out the bathroom.

you were a cheerleader? he had no clue. it dawned on him, if he had no idea of who you were, why would you know who he was? he shook his head at the thought, instead heading to class.

on the other side of the school sat you, fidgeting with your pencil as you struggled to keep up with the current notes. the interaction you had with rafe was confusing you. why did he suddenly want to meet you? it didn’t make sense. the whole class period you tried to wrap your brain around his actions, trying to figure out what his intention was, but you fell short.

at lunch time you sat at a table, you usually sat with friends but they were absent. it didn’t help they were absent the one day someone popular randomly takes an interest in you. you sit on the chair, pulling out your math homework. if you knocked it out at lunch, you had a high chance of not having homework. you start the first problem, but immediately halt when your family friend, topper, taps on your shoulder. “hi tops.” you smile softly at him, setting your pencil down and turning your attention to him. he smiles at you, “hey.”

you pick up a goldfish, plopping it into your mouth. “how have you been?” you question topper. he shrugs, “same old same old. family is still upset with me, per usual.” you nod, soaking up what he said. “dang, that sucks. it’s so annoying how people hold grudges. they don’t know how to forgive and forget.” you shrug, smiling up at him. he returns the smile, “i know right.” you place your homework back in your bag, assuming you wouldn’t be able to finish it during lunch.

“what did you even do?” you ask him. he smiles, “uh i accidentally pissed a pogue off so they got revenge by sinking my new boat.” your eyes widened, “what! holy shit you must have fucked up bad.” he frowns, “i didn’t really want to do it, you know how tricky it is with our reputation and who we have to associate with.” you laugh, “oh i know all too well of what that’s like.” topper rolls his eyes, assuming you’re talking about him.

“hey! i’m not too bad.” you laugh, “it wasn’t about you. you aren’t bad at all.” you look up, seeing rafe take his backpack off. you glance at topper to see he is confused as well. “hey rafe, what’s up?” topper questions rafe, who had just sat down at our table. “nothing much man, saw you over here and decided to join.” you laugh sarcastically, “inviting yourself to our private party?” you question, slightly joking. rafe felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy when you grouped yourself and topper together.

“i’m just kidding rafe… kind of.” you grin, topper joining in by chuckling with you. rafe awkwardly laughs along. he pulls himself together, thinking of things to say. “are you going to the football game tomorrow?” rafe waits for your response. you smile slightly, “yeah, but i’m a cheerleader so i’ll be on field.” he nods, “oh, that’s cool.” you nod awkwardly. “yeah.” he smiles subconsciously, excited to see you in a uniform. his smile disintegrates when topper confronts him. “what are you smiling for bro?” rafe stared at him, unamused. “nothing.” topper scoffs, “alright then.”

you steal looks between rafe and topper, still confused. you don’t ask any questions, you just continue eating your food. the bell rings, indicating that lunch is over. you gather up your trash, standing up. you notice rafes eyes lingering over your body. his eyes fixating between your thick thighs, and hips. you feel self conscious under his stare, so you quickly stand up and walk to the trash can. rafe follows after you, quick on his feet. he comes up to your side, much to your dismay.

“will i see you at the game tomorrow?” you turn your head to the side, “are you going to the game?” you return. he nods, “yeah.” you smile, “then you’ll probably see me.” he grins, “okay, cool.” he quickly turns around, leaving you by yourself. you were confused still, but hey, maybe having rafe as a friend would be good.

you got through the day quickly, heading immediately home. you work on homework, chores, and finally get ready for bed. before bed you prepare your uniform. you set it out, along with a jacket so you weren’t on full display at school. you wake up the next morning, putting on your uniform, along with a bow in your hair. you head to school, slightly nervous for your possible interaction with rafe.

when you arrive at school, you don’t see rafe. you only saw topper, who was eagerly heading in your direction. he smiled, standing still in front of you. “hey, good morning!” you smile, “hi tops.” the two of you talk for a bit, him walking you to class. “can i pick you up before the game?” topper asks. “sure, it has to be a little earlier than the fans. i have warm ups and stuff i have to do before the game.” he grins, “okay! just text me tonight when you want me to pick you up.” you put your hands in your jacket pocket. “okay, thanks topper!”

he walks away, and you walk into your first hour class. you go through your classes as usual, rafe not showing up. you couldn’t tell if you were disappointed or relieved, but either way it didn’t matter, you had a game you had to prepare for. you do your make up, and touch up your hair. you chug water, and began stretching. you text topper, saying he could pick you up now, if he still wanted to drive you. his response was quick and enthusiastic.

topper pulls up to your house, his music loud, and a large smile plastered on his face. “game day!!” you laugh along, repeating his words. “game day!” you open his door, hopping inside. “let’s go!” you playfully roll your eyes at his eagerness, “to the school!” topper smirks, stepping on the gas, and speeding out your driveway.

the two of you sing along to the songs on the radio, before it abruptly ends due to you two arriving at the school. he decides to stay in his car, planning on joining right when the official game starts. you skip down the field, joining your teammates. you stretch with them, before you practice the chants and dance numbers.

at six thirty, they start allowing people in. you immediately see topper hunched over the fence, him waving frantically at you. you wave back, jogging over to him. “you ready?” he asks, you bite your lip, “i guess.” he laughs at your nerves, excited for you. you glance over and see rafe. he hadn’t seen you yet. your breath gets caught in your throat, slightly scared and self conscious to see him.

topper gives you reassuring words, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice rafe had found you. rafe slowly makes his way towards topper, keeping his cool. rafe stares at you in your cheerleading uniform. his breath gets heavy, he stares, watching you talk to topper. jealously fills his chest, of course topper was here first. rafe quickly approached the two of you, eager to break the conversation up.

“hi rafe.” you smile softly, looking up at him. he smiles, “hey. good luck today.” you fiddle with your fingers, “thank you.” rafe stays silent. you hear the coaches whistle. “i got to go, i’ll talk to you when i can!” you quickly turn around, jogging back to the cheerleading circle.

rafe watches as you jog away, hes mesmerized by how well the uniform fit. he knew you would look good, but damn. he looks over at topper, who makes eye contact with him. “what’s up rafe?” topper stares at rafe, waiting for an explanation. “she is so hot.” topper scoffs, “bro, already whipped?” rafe rolls his eyes, but grins. “for her, yeah. i’d willingly be whipped.” the two boys sit on the bench, topper watching the game, and rafe watching you.

after sitting in silence, rafe speaks up. “do you think she likes me?” topper quickly glances at rafe, trying to see if he was joking or if he was serious. when topper saw he was serious, he genuinely contemplated it. “id say maybe, i mean she doesn’t shrivel up in disgust when you are around. that’s a pretty good sign.” rafe shook his head, “that’s true. that is a good sign.”

rafe admired you, you getting his full attention. on break you rush to the fence, excited to see rafe and topper. “hey!” you look up at them, “you are doing great!” topper reached down, highfiving you. “thanks!” you look over at rafe, something took you over because he actually looked hot. you bit you lip slightly, you were going to say something, but rafe beat you to it. “you look good.” rafe smirked slightly, causing heat to rise to your face. “thank you, rafe.”

you return to the group again, your heart racing. the idea of rafe made your breath heavy. you continue to chant, and preform. you occasionally looked up rafe, his eyes always focused on you. you had a low chance of being able to go to the fence again, so you focused entirely on perfecting the choreography. the crowd was cheering loudly, your hometown winning the game.

at the final quarter, your hometown won by one point. your team jumps up and down, ecstatic. you preform a final show, before you break apart. you chug water. you rush in line with the other cheerleaders, going in a straight line to high-five the football players. you smile brightly at them, telling them congrats for winning the game. most of them returned a smile, and thanked you.

after the bleachers started to empty, you decided to meet up with topper, and possibly rafe. you look around for topper but he was gone. you turn around, accidentally bumping into rafe. “oh i’m sorry.” he stares at you, “hey, by the way topper left, said he was going on a date with a girl from the cheer team.” you frown, “oh. he was my ride.” rafe smiles, “you can ride me- i mean ride with me.” you laugh lightly at his switch up, “okay. i’ll ride you.” your heart is racing, the after game adrenaline flowing through your veins, which was causing you to be bold. he smirks at you, “okay, i’d enjoy that.” you mimic his smirk, following him to his car.

he turns around, “are you sure?” you nod, “i’m sure, are you?” he is shocked by your question, “so fucking sure.”

part two will be steamy <3

[dancingintheraindreamingonday]

The greatest miracle is love - Chapter 8

Author’s note: Just one more chapter and the story will end (like the series 😰). Thanks again for everyone who’s reading my story. And don’t forget: English is not my mother tongue 😛

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

As you left the plane in Latvia you are greeted by none other than Bruce Banner himself. „What are you doing here?“, your eyes are widened by surprise. 

„Well…“, he grins with his huge mouth. „I got a call from Pepper who got a call from him.“ He points to Bucky. „Heard what they did. How are you feeling?“

„I’m good. No worries. The serum didn’t effect me that much.“, you look intensively at Banner.

„Thats good but I can’t remember you having a degree in medicine. Oh and I’ve got another surprise for you.“ Bruce steps aside and what you see makes your heart jump. 

You let Bucky’s hand go and make weak steps forward. Bucky watches you worriedly, afraid that you might just collapse. And you do. You fall on your knees but not because of your strength but to be on the same high as the boy who runs into your outstretched arms. „My baby.“, you coo as you cradle your son in your arms. 

Zemo observes this scene carefully as he steps next to Bucky. „Ah…family, something so special and yet so fragile.“ Bucky doesn’t respond but Zemo can see how tightly he clenches his jaw. Smirking because he knew that he got under Bucky’s skin he says. „We really need to go. Cant waste our time with this.“

Bucky walks to you and Alex and lays his right hand on your shoulder. „I’ve got to go.“

You turn around and get up from the ground. „Be careful.“

„I’ll come back to you…to you both. I promise.“

„Don’t make promises you cant keep.“ And with that you take Alex’ hand and leave the airport with Banner. And Bucky leaves the airport as well. 

~*~*~

„I didn’t know you had a lab in Latvia.“ You ask Banner. 

„I don’t.“ He chuckles. „But they can’t deny a request I made. I think they are a bit scared of me.“ He laughs loudly. 

You lay down. A doctor took a blood sample to check how the serum affected you. Alex sits next to you on a chair reading or rather looking at the pictures of a small book. 

„So. I’ve got the results and no worries all is fine.“ Banner walks into the room with several papers in his hands. „The antidote I’ve given you when you were pregnant with Alex is still in your system. It’s part of your DNA, so you are immune to the super soldier serum.“ 

You remember how difficult the pregnancy with Alex was. He was a super soldier baby but you were just normal and almost unable to survive. But Bruce and Tony developed an antidote for the serum and because of that Alex is a normal healthy boy. 

„And there’s something else and I think congratulations are in order. The baby is all healthy. So don’t worry about it.“

You look away from Alex and into Banners big eyes. „NO! I’m not pregnant. I lost the baby. I felt it. On the morning I got abducted I bled. I…thought I lost it.“

Bruce’s eyes soften. „Don’t know. But the results are clear. You are pregnant.“

„Again? I really need to attend a sex education class. Seems like I need to learn more about protection.“ You smirk but in the inside you’re screaming. „Thanks Bruce. For being such a great doctor.“ You thanked him and he leaves you to maybe enjoy the news.

James promised to come back to you and Alex but not to another kid. Your current feelings resemble the feelings 5 years ago. The happiness and the sadness. You will be alone in this but that’s okay. Tony taught you how to be a mother, he taught you to be a strong woman. 

„Is there a baby in your tummy?“ Alex’ soft voice interrupts the dark thoughts you had. 

„Yes. There is a baby in my tummy.“ You answer, lifting the blanket so that Alex can crawl into your bed. You caress his dark hair mindlessly. „You’re gonna be a big brother.“ 

„Will dad come home?“ You gulp not really knowing what so say. „You know that your dad is a superhero. He rescues people all the time. Thats not an easy job so he can’t be with us as much as he wants to. But he loves you. More than you can imagine.“

„And the baby? Does he love it too?“

„Of course my love. He loves it but for now this will be our little secret, okay?“

~*~*~

Bucky keeps his promise and comes back to you and Alex. But it is a strange situation and yet so comforting. Bucky didn’t talk much and so does Alex. Sometimes they just lay on the couch reading a book or in case of Alex doodling.They enjoy the presence of the other without the need of talking. 

„I need to visit Sam and bring him the suitcase.“, says James one night as you both lay on the hard floor. „Okay.“, you trail small circles on his stomach while looking at the ceiling. „You can join me. You and Alex.“

„A road trip? That sounds interesting.“ Bucky doesn’t know how to feel. He’s with you but you seem so distant which irritates him. Isn’t that what you wanted? Did your feelings for him change? But he doesn’t know what else to say.

The next day you, James and Alex are on their way to Sam’s home.

„Is Miss Atomic bomb still your favorite song?“, Bucky asks you softly. „Yeah. It always make me cry. I get so sentimental about this.“, you chuckle.

„Why didn’t you give Sam the money for his boat?“, you ask James as stretch your arms outside the window. „What money?“, he asks surprisedly. „The money in our bank account?“, you laugh. „It’s yours and not mine. I don’t spend money that isn’t mine“, he mumbles. „Well it’s not mine either. It’s Tony’s. A fair split between Morgan, Pepper, me and maybe even the kid Peter.“

„Have you read the letter yet?“. On Tony’s funeral Pepper gave you a letter. The answer of the question whether you are his child or not. But you were scared to open it. „No, not yet. Pepper told me that he never read the test results but he was like a father to me. And I like the idea of that. But what if he isn’t my father. All the problems and pain I caused him…for nothing. I will open the letter one day but not  now.“ Bucky caress your leg while driving. „Giving Sam the money he need is a really good idea.“, he smiles.

„Tell me about the argument you had with Steve.“ Bucky asks you after a while. The silence in the car makes him rather uncomfortable because it seems so unlike you. Road trips in Wakanda always resulted in you singing along to every song on the radio. You are surprised that he knows about it.

„Sharon told me.“

„Of course she did. Do you really wanna know? I was horrible to Steve.“ But you remember the fight like it happened yesterday:

You were packing your things to join Clint on his mission. Alex who was a small baby slept silently on your bed. „Why are you so angry with me?  I just want to help you. I promised Bucky to take care of you.“ Steve stormed into your room not understanding why you want to leave the compound. You stopped with packing as you turned around. „What about me? What about the promise you gave me? You promised me that you make sure he survives but he didn’t. You are here and he is not. You failed, Steve. But that’s what you do, isn’t it? When it comes to my husband you always fail. You failed him when he fell off the train, you failed him in Bucharest and you failed him in Wakanda.“ Steve looked like he just got slapped. „I’m deeply sorry, (y/f/n). I know how you feel. When I lost Peggy..“ You interrupted him. „Don’t you dare to compare my marriage with James with your crush on Peggy. Never. What I had with James was real. With its ups and downs and love, and tears, and sex and laughs. Don’t pretend that you know how I feel because you fucking don’t know how it feels when your heart gets ripped out and there’s nothing you can do about it.“ You screamed in anger. „I hate you. I hate the universe for choosing you over him.“, You took off your wedding ring and threw it to Steve. You take your backpack and a crying Alex in your arm and leave the room. Steve stood there for awhile not able to move. Eventually he kneeled down to pick up the small and golden wedding ring and read the engraving. „The greatest miracle is love.“

„Wow. That was tough.“, Bucky grins taking his eyes from the street. 

„Yeah. I was awful at this time.“ You hide your face behind your hands and giggle. „Luckily, Steve is such a nice guy and after I got the courage I apologized and now I’m a better person.“ The drive to Delacroix is relaxing. 

As you both arrive the city is milling with people. „Is this okay for you?“, Bucky asks which surprises you. „Yeah of course. Why wouldn’t it be?“

„You got abducted and you have nightmares. I’m worried.“ He looks into (y/e/c) eyes and caress your left cheek. „I’m fine. No worries.“ You fake a smile and instead of kissing Bucky you take a step back. „I think we should look for Sam. Does he even know we’re visiting?“ You hold Alex in your arms as Bucky takes the suitcase from Wakanda. 

~*~*~

You and Bucky sit in Sarah’s and Sam’s family garden enjoying the bonfire. „No wine for me.“ Sam knows that something is off. The test he saw in your house, the distance and the rejection of alcohol indicate only one thing. So he takes the chance when you went inside to freshen up. „You’re pregnant.“ It wasn’t a question. You nodded not knowing what else to say. „You need to tell him. The sooner the better.“

„It’s not that easy.“

„He loves you. Trust him.“, Sam comforts you. As you both walk outside he yells „Lets call it quits for tonight, Sarah. Lets leave the lovebirds alone for a sec.“ He winks at Bucky and before the leave the garden he turns around: “And no sex on my couch, understand?“

Lost in thought, you stare in the flames, knowing that the time to reveal comes closer. „Whats on your mind, my love?“ James’ voice is just a whisper. You look him into his beautiful eyes that mirror the flames. He looks vulnerable and almost scared. 

„There is something I need to tell you and I get scared shitless.“ You say after you took a deep breath. Your heart is hammering against your chest and you have difficulties to keep a steady voice.

„Are you breaking up with me?“

„No! Of course not but I want to give you an exit.“

„Is that a metaphor from this one series we watched?“ Bucky remembers a show where relationships are compared to freeways. „Tell me what’s going on.“

Like removing a bandaid: fast and with no hesitation, you whisper:

„I’m pregnant. I’m sorry. I didn’t plan this. You have to believe me. I know how you feel about it and I want to let you know that you can take the exit right now. You don’t have to be in this.“

Silence. Bucky doesn’t answer for a long time.

„Since when do you know?“

„I… uhm… a day before the kidnapping.“

„You knew all this time and you didn’t tell me earlier?“ You hear his disappointment in his voice. 

„Thats why they didn’t took Alex, right? You wanted to sacrificed yourself and the baby for Alex.

„I thought I lost the baby. They wanted to take Alex. They wanted to experiment with a super soldier boy. So I offered me.“ Silence again just the crackling of the bonfire.

„You not answering me tells me anything I need to know. It’s okay, James. I did it once by myself and I will do it again.“ And with that you turn around suppressing the tears when you realize you’re going to raise two kids by yourself. 

As you walk closer to the Wilson’s house a hand grabs you and turns you around. „I’m not letting you go again. I love you, (y/f/n). You can’t imagine how much I do. I’ll figure it out… how to be a dad. I want you. And I want this. I’m scared and nervous. But my love for you is greater than my fear.“

He kisses you passionately.

„But we really need to attend a sex education class.“, He chuckles as he hugs you tighter. 

Chapter 9

@inlovewith3 @jackiehollanderr @homesicam@dreamydreamerwriting @losers-club6 @gengen64@agentsofsheilds @crimson-darling @akkinda10 @xemine@bubblegumholland @chipilerendi @iamasimpingh0e @bbmommy0902 @madddiiee26 @teenagedreams-bucky @aya-fay @idontknowwhatthisisfam @w-wolfhxrd @useless-creature-213   @angywritesstuff @supernaturalcat7 @harrys-stan @geek-and-proud @pastel-boy-sungjae @austynparksandpizza @maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals @teenagedreams-bucky @auds24 @ah-blossom @supraveng @lady-loki-ren

[jonahlovescoffee]

His Muse | J.M.

a/n: this oneshot is brought to you by my conversation with @randomlimelightxxx yesterday <3 it’s not one of my best works but the plot is too good to not write it down :’) anyways, happy reading!

summary: jonah’s love for you can be found within every love song he writes.

warnings: too much fluff :D

word count: 1199

The music started off as sounds of random keys being pressed, gradually turning into more graceful chord progressions then finally becoming a complete gentle melody that soothed the soul. It certainly piqued your interest right away but each note was played so softly that made it impossible for you to find the source of such a wondrous melody in your dream despite frantically searching high and low for it. You kept on running, chasing after the bits and pieces of the soft tune that seemed to grow fainter and fainter with each second that passed until your surroundings faded and your eyes were suddenly met with the familiar ceiling of the bedroom you shared with Jonah.

The music was much louder now, the rise and fall of the well-crafted melody wafting through the air of the semi-dark room, with only a tinge of sunlight lighting up the room. You didn’t need to check the clock on your nightstand to know that it was too early for a late-riser like you to be awake, nor did you need to turn your head to the side to know that it was Jonah playing the piano. This wasn’t anything new to you. He’d have sudden bursts of inspiration during his sleep then he’d drag himself out of bed to continue composing whatever unfinished song in front of the piano, experimenting with various melodies before jotting the satisfactory ideas down in his worn out notebook that he carries everywhere he goes. This had often resulted with you being awoken by the melodious sounds of the piano but you never complained.

Yes, his playing might have disrupted your beauty sleep for more times than you could count but you’d spend an eternity staying awake just to hear him play.

You got up into a sitting position and rubbed your eyes in an attempt to clear your drowsy vision. You didn’t make a sound until the music came to an end, choosing to silently admire how at peace he looked when he was in his element instead and also because you didn't want to pass up the chance of seeing him shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants on.

You started to clap softly after he ended everything with a firm press of one of the lower keys. “Bravo, bravo. You nailed it again,” you praised with a smile, already out of bed and walking towards him, carrying your blanket with you. He turned towards you just in time for you to lean down to connect your lips with his in a chaste good-morning kiss.

“Morning, love,” Jonah greeted sweetly as he scooted a little to the side to make sufficient space for you on the piano bench. You plopped down on the empty spot immediately before wrapping the blanket around both of you. Jonah noticed how you looked barely awake with your half-lidded tired eyes, messy bedhead and tired smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Did I wake you up? You know, if you still want to continue sleeping I can quit playing and go back into bed with you…”

“Nah, listening to you working wonders on the piano is much more important to me anyways,” you chirped, reassuring him that you weren’t the least bit bothered by the sound of music. His music.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” One of his hands slid around your waist to pull you closer before leaning in to give you another kiss on the lips, which made you giggle. He was always generous with his kisses in the morning, knowing that it was the only moment of alone time you shared before having to leave for work and not being able to see each other until nightfall.

“Hmmmm,” you pretended to be deep in thought by putting a finger chin while looking upwards, as if you were racking your brain in search of said memory. “Probably not,” you joked, looking into his hazel eyes with the most innocent expression you could muster.

“I must have been a really bad boyfriend, haven’t I?” he played along, cocking a brow at you.

“Yep, you’re the worst,” you laughed, earning a playful eyeroll from him. Your childish teasing wasn’t foreign to him so he, of course, knew to not take anything you said to heart. “But you can always make it up to me by playing something for me.”

“Fine,” he turned his attention back to the piano, hands gliding over all the keys once, forming a swift descending scale. “What do you wanna hear?”

“No idea. Surprise me,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist and laid your head on his shoulder, your cheek pressing against his warm skin.

“You are insufferable, you know that?”

“That’s why you love me,” you said cheekily, earning a light chuckle from him that was laced with amusement.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever floats your boat, sweetheart,” he proceeded to flip through the notebook in front of him that was filled with his handwriting and scribbles, all drafts of songs that were mostly written by him for fun. He stopped at a page that stood out from the rest with a star drawn at the corner. “I’ve been working on this song a while ago and…just tell me what you think in the end.”

“Okay,” you nodded as his hands found the right keys. He took a deep breath before letting his hands roam free across the keys. He had you hooked from the very first note and when he started singing softly just for you to hear, butterflies erupted in your stomach. You let your eyes flutter shut, savoring the beautiful song that was composed by none other than the beautiful soul next to you whom you were lucky enough to call yours.

It was times like this that never failed to make your heart soar with happiness and in that moment you realised that you were content to spend the rest of your life with him if it meant that you get to share precious little moments like this with him every day—just the two of you in your little bubble, temporarily separated from the rest of the world.

It wasn’t long before the song was over and you gave him a squeeze. “That was…amazing,” you breathed in awe, removing your head from its resting spot on his shoulders to meet his gaze.

“Really? Do you like it?”

“I love it so much in fact, it might’ve just become my most favorite song of yours,” you grinned, cradling his face in your hands and he leaned into your touch. “I’m just surprised that you never played this for me before.”

“Gotta make sure it’s perfect enough for the love of my life,” his hand covered yours, the mere touch and the affection in his voice able to make your heart race. “Gotta make sure it’s as perfect as you.”

His face was closer to yours now. So close that if you leaned forward just a little, your lips could meet again easily. “It’s about me?”

“It’s always been about you, for you, my beautiful angel,” was all he said before the space between you both collapsed.

taglist: @chilling-seavey @neralondon @mia-marais @randomlimelightxxx @hopinglimelight @kvd963 @cutiebandlover202 @savspersonalproperty @slowdownatthelotusinn @angelmarais @freakshows199 @my-fangirling-outlet @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @sadbitchfangirl

[ri-ahhh]

rockin’ around

because my family isn’t doing anything Christmas until the 26th and I have nothing else to do

home for the holidays doesn’t always mean you have to return somewhere.

just a big pile of dumb, ridiculous fluff. happy Christmas Eve🎅🎄⛄️

***

“I can’t go home for Christmas.”

Grayson looks up from his phone as you mope into the living room, tossing your purse and keys on the couch cushion beside him before climbing onto his lap. He pouts and wraps you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple as you cling to him and nuzzle your nose into his warm neck.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. You sigh when he swipes a palm across your forehead to smooth back your hair. “What happened?”

“My dad just found out he might have gotten exposed at work.” You take a deep breath, holding back tears that would do no one any good. He’s in the exact same boat as you — minus the potential risk of his parent having the virus — but it still wouldn’t be fair to him if you sat here and cried about it. “I just really was hoping I’d get to see family, at least for the holidays.”

Grayson hums a little and brushes his lips against your forehead once again; he understands all too well the struggle of beinf an out-of-state transplant in these times. “Well, lucky for us, we’ve got our own little family in this house, right? It’s not the same, of course, but it’s more than a lot of people have.”

He’s right. You mumble some semblance of agreement and squeeze him tight. You’re still upset, but the familiar smell of his cologne and the feel of being close to him is already assuaging some of your anxiety and sadness.

He hugs you back, and you can hear the reassuring smile in his voice when he speaks again. “We’ll have a party on Christmas Eve. I’ll have Adele order all the shit today; we’re gonna this the best, most festive Christmas we can, babe. I’ll make sure of it.”

Christmas Eve arrives before you know it. If 2020 has taught you anything, it’s that time is the most fickle and outrageous concept of them all; you feel like it was yesterday that you hung up the phone with your mom after finding out you’d have to cancel your flight home, when it’s really been just over a week.

You’re returning back from your apartment with a carful of presents and the other half of your closet to hang up in Grayson’s, to find an excess of Christmas decor has exploded in the twins’ house. Kristina stands precariously on a stool while she hangs a garland across the back doors, Ethan standing protectively behind her with hands held at the ready to catch her rather than simply helping her pin the other end of it to the wall. You giggle and shake your head, making your way to the den to dump some of the presents under the tree. Mando and Adele are stringing multicolored lights all across the room, which is sure to set the vibe right when the Christmas movie night starts later.

Your favorite sight by far, though, is the one you see upon entering the kitchen once your car is completely unloaded. Grayson, in a Santa hat, scooping out thumbprint cookies onto a baking sheet, singing along adorably off-key to the Kacey Musgraves rendition of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ that’s playing through all of the nearby alexas.

“You’re so cute,” you grin, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek before reaching down sneakily and pinching his ass.

Grayson curses with a little yelp, but chuckles with you as he ducks down for a proper welcome-home kiss.

“Gotta make Santa his cookies,” he says, grinning against your lips, then puckers them a couple more times before pulling away. He sets the bowl down and starts mashing imprints into the dough.

You reach up and squeeze the pompom on the end of his hat and quirk a suggestive brow at him. “You look like a Santa to me. And I might have a special cookie for you later tonight.”

Grayson’s own arched brows shoot up until they’re hidden beneath that sexy swoop of dark hair you love so much. He pushes too hard on one of the dough balls, squishing it much too flat, but he doesn’t even notice. “Yeah?”

You nod and pick up the jelly jar from where it sits on the counter next to a batch of already baked and cooled cookies. “Yep.” You lick and suck the remnants of the sticky sweet from the spoon that rests in the jar, eyeing him up and down. “I may have even bought special packaging for it, too.”

You smile widely at his annoyed laugh, watching him shake his head and get back to work to distract himself from the mental image of the early Christmas present he’s sure to receive tonight.

Ethan and Kristina are still hanging more garland and bunting all around the house, and you take pity on your friend when you hear her bickering quietly with her boyfriend about him refusing to do anything but be her spotter.

“I’m, like, a meter off the ground, E. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m American; a meter sounds like a lot. And you’ve almost fallen like five times.”

“Only because you’re distracting me and not actually helping!”

You laugh and haul a barstool to where the end of the ‘merry Christmas’ bunting needs to go, shooing Ethan off to help Mando and Adele. What would Christmas be without some healthy fighting from the resident mom and dad?

Decorations get finalized, cooking and baking are completed, and everyone gathers in the living room for some fun Christmas-themed games you and Adele had found on Pinterest. Ryan even makes it over, having made the decision himself to stay in LA as well. Adele passes around more Santa hats and obnoxious necklaces made of big, lit-up Christmas lights to accompany everyone’s ugly sweaters and cozy pajama pants. It’s truly something out of a Hallmark movie, and though you still miss your family across the country, you marvel at the one you’ve built right here — just like Grayson said.

Much later on (technically Christmas Day at this point), after cycling through The Grinch, Home Alone, and Love Actually, Ethan and Kristina head to bed. Mando’s new apartment is close enough that he goes home, taking Ryan with him, and Adele crashes in the guest room. It leaves you and Grayson some alone time to cuddle up together in a bundle of blankets beneath the tree, sharing soft giggles and sweet kisses.

Grayson’s smile is infectious as he nuzzles a dimple in your cheek brought out by your own giddiness — you practically feel the energy of a child in the early morning hours of Christmas, waiting on presents to appear magically beneath the tree.

“Do you think Santa will still come if I fuck you under this tree?” he whispers, kissing your ear softly and making you shudder. The chasteness compared to the dirty nature of his words gets you even more riled up. “In the hat, and that necklace, and whatever special wrapping you mentioned earlier?”

You hum and run your hands up and down his broad back, letting him trail hot kisses now down the column of your neck, sighing happily. “I don’t know. I think rockin’ around the Christmas tree in that way might get us put on the naughty list last moment.”

“More like rompin’ around the Christmas tree, am I right babe?”

You laugh out loud, squirming beneath him when he slips his hands beneath your sweater and tickles your ribs gently. You reach up and adjust his skewed Santa hat. “Please shut up, Mr. Claus. Now, I might already be wearing that wrapping, if you’re ready to eat your cookie.”

[heavenunderthemoon]

Pinky Promise {Jennifer Jareau x daughter! reader}

Summary: JJ, coming from a small town with hardly any sexual education that wasn't abstinence- centric, found herself pregnant. You, her daughter, await her return from another case leading to an interesting conversation between the Jareau girls when she arrives home. 

Warnings: teenage pregnancy, extreme fluff

Author’s note: I have a lot of content ideas for this concept so should I just post a lot of blurbs? Idk let me know what y'all think. Also, I didn't put an age for the reader in here because I don't want to exclude anyone so if you are looking for one you won’t find it, anyways enjoy lovelies<3

Rainbow sock clad feet pattered against the house's carpeted floors, the small two bedroom home quiet in the early morning hours.

Typically, you didn't wake this early. You had far outgrown the age in which your internal clock matched that of the rising sun. Your mother attributed your abnormal sleep schedule to the amount of coffee you drank, though you simply pointed the finger right back at her. You learned your caffeine addiction from the best, after all.

No, you didn't normall wake up this early but this morning you had because today was Tuesday. Tuesday's typically help very little importance. You had school, of course, soccer practice afterward and then homework until it was time for bed (very riveting). But this Tuesday was different because it had been precisely five days that your mother had been gone and she had called last night to tell you that she would be home by the time you woke up.

Your first response had been that you would stay up, waiting for her until she arrived. Sometimes you could get away with that. If the jet landed around nine she didn't mind you pushing back your sleep schedule just for her. But, she was still your mother and she still had her limitations. It'll be too late, your mother had whispered into the line, afraid of waking her coworkers. You had protested, but the sleepy yawns had made you sigh defeatedly, telling her to be safe before giving in to your fatigue.

But, none of that mattered now, because as your hand pushed open the door to your mother's bedroom, you recognized the lump underneath the blankets strewn across the bed. You had taken up knitting over the past year- when your mother was gone Garcia was typically tasked with checking in or even staying the night at times and she had taught you the skill. A tuft of blonde hair peeked out from one side of the bed and you grinned tiredly, not hesitating to climb onto the queen sized mattress.

You remembered those days not too many years ago. The days before your mother had gotten her job at the BAU, still struggling as a single mother in school, supporting her child all by herself. The days that had you two sharing beds in a teeny-tiny apartment. You hadn't minded all too much and, though you probably wouldn't admit it aloud, you missed it sometimes, falling asleep in her arms.

As you clambered into the sheets your mother's eyes fluttered open, a lazy smile coming onto her features. She looked as she always did after coming home from cases- tired, drained, but happy to see you. She turned her body to face you, a deep breath being exhaled as she pulled you into her side, a soft kiss being placed onto your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling, humming in response.

"Hi, baby." Her words were jumbled, exhaustion seeping through her tone but she smiled all the same, keeping her forehead connected with yours while she caressed your cheek.

She recalled all those years ago, discovering she was pregnant in that small town of hers. The scandal of her teen pregnancy had been the talk of the town up until the moment she left, and then hardships bigger than gossip had come. Having you, alone with no support system, clutching the hand of the kind nurse at the hospital. The small apartments, intense couponing, food stamps, and learning to sew baby clothes to save costs. So many years of struggling and she wouldn't trade a second of it because it had given her you.

Her daughter. A sweet, and funny, and kind girl who was more like her best friend than her kid. The kind of girl she called at least twice a day when on a case, wanting to hear every single detail about her daughter's day and answered when you asked about hers.

"I missed you." You whispered back, voice raspy from sleep. "How was the case?" You asked even if you knew you wouldn't get all the details.

"Hard, but it's over." The blonde responded truthfully, relief taking over her features and her eyes suddenly lit up, as if just remembering something. "How did your essay go? Total hit? Book deals completely flooding our mailbox?" She teased, and you chuckled, shaking your head at her goofiness.

"A-plus." You boated before wiggling your eyebrows. "No book deals yet, but I'll keep my ear to the ground." You quipped back and she laughed, heaving a small sigh afterward.

Staring at you, only a small amount of light from her sun-shaped nightlight (she had a weird obsession with the sun that you liked to tease her for, buying her sun shaped everything - even a spoon that she always used to eat cereal with). It provided just enough light to see your eyes staring back at her, the eyes that she had created with that old boyfriend of hers in high school, the teenage boy skipping town as soon as she had told him the news. She recalled seeing those eyes when you were born, solidifying the love she had felt growing as each day had passed with you in her belly. The eyes that, as soon as they had opened, your mouth opening to let out that beautiful, ear splitting, heart wrenching wail that signified your entrance into the world, had made her fall in love so deeply she felt she was being crushed under the weight of it all.

Guilt ate at her, as it always did. Guilt for not being the perfect, PTA-mom. The mom who made home-made muffins for bake sales or drove you to school everyday. She wasn't negligent, not in the slightest. She knew that. But part of her always feared that you might resent her for the certain spots that she could never quite fill.

"Do you hate me? For not being here all the time?" Jennifer voiced her concerns quietly, and the mere tone of her words made you pause because she seldom took that tone with you. A tone that showed just how afraid she was of her daughter's resentment, a resentment that could easily be caused by how little she was home.

The question alone made you furrow your brows, not hesitating to answer. "What? No!" And you were sitting up because how could you possibly hate her? How could you hate your mother? Your mother who had kept you safe, done everything in her power to make sure you remained that way. The mother who, yes, missed a couple things over the years but always made sure she was there on your birthday and holidays and the really, really important things. You recalled her tradition every year, swinging open your door at the exact moment you were born, regardless of the early hour, and singing you awake. A tiny cupcake in her hand (store-bought because, as discussed, she was an awful cook), a flickering sparkle candle (was a candle really a candle without sparkles?). That look that she gave you under the dimness of that flame, the look that said that she would do anything, go anywhere, be anyone for you. The look that made you know you were safe, and that even if she told you to make a wish you wouldn't even need to make one because you had everything you could ask for.

Jennifer sat up, her hand going to her distressed daughter's back, watching the pure horror on her face.

"I don't hate you, why would I hate you-" You were distraught, voice an octave higher and she shushed you softly, apologizing at once.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry-"

You turned back to her, tilting your head. "Why would you even think that?"

Your eyes scanned her face for any clues while you awaited your answer. She might have been the profiler but you knew your mother. You knew that she absolutely could not go anywhere with mismatched socks. Or that she hated avocado (the texture freaked her out). You knew that, after growing up on a farm, she knew the ins and outs of farm life (she liked to call you a city girl when teasing you and you called her chicken Joe just to get even). You knew that after years of scrimping on luxurious things she still wouldn't allow herself to buy nice things for herself, only for you. And you knew that, being that she was a media liaison, communicating was one of her best traits. So, you listened carefully.

She sighed, scooting to put her back against the headboard, reaching out to pull on the string that would turn on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room, before motioning for you to join her. Her arm stayed out, allowing you to snuggle in, your head falling onto her shoulder before she answered.

"I'm your mom. I'm supposed to be here." she said, eyes trained on the blanket you had made for her last month. You were getting better, this one hadn't yet fallen apart, but it was still a subpar attempt, despite what Garcia had told you.

"You are here." You tried, but the blonde was shaking her head. She had changed from her work clothes, the aforementioned outfit lying abandoned on the floor, the only spot in a very clean room. Her hair that she almost always had down was thrown into a bun and a few pieces lay forgotten in the front, tickling your cheek when she shook her head.

"No, I'm not. I'm on a jet every week, thousands of miles away from my daughter, thinking about what she's doing and who she's with and I feel like I'm missing everything important. And I don't want you to hate me-"

"I could never hate you." You cut her off, and you moved once more, making sure she was looking into your eyes because as much as you knew her, you also knew that she would never really believe you, not about this, and the eye contact would help in the slightest. "You go away every week because those people need you. You go help the people who need you, just like you help me when I need you." She went to protest, but you continued. "And just because you aren't here, doesn't mean you're not here. You're like Patrick Swayze in Ghost, okay? It's like I can still feel your presence-"

Your teasing made her let out a sad chuckle, sighing softly. You smiled at the sound, grabbing her hand.

"I mean it, kid. We're in this for the long haul." You narrowed your eyes playfully, bringing up a pinky.

She smiled and, for just a moment, she could look at you and see the baby she had raised. The small, premature baby that had clutched onto her finger, as if telling her they would make it through the night. The toddler who had turned up her nose at peas, exclusively eating pureed carrots for three months straight. The five year old who had begged her to learn how to ride a bike and then immediately pleaded for her to not let go of the back. 'If you let go, I'll die, I'm sure of it.' You informed seriously. The eight year old reading books twice the normal reading level, or the ten year old adorned in a scarecrow costume, passed out on the couch from eating too much candy. The thirteen year old who had suddenly hit a growth spurt, all your jeans high-watered that she would replace because you would never outright ask for new jeans. And now the you in front of her. The cool, thoughtful, amazing kid that she would never quite understand how she had deserved you.

Bringing her pinky up to yours, interlocking it. "Okay. But, you know that if you ever do resent me- and I'm talking, Mother dearest level kind of resentment you have to tell me so that I can at least play my part."

You smiled, scooting back to your place in her arms. "That takes the fun away."

It was silent for another moment, only the crickets chirping in the backyard heard, before she was speaking once more. "You know, I'm supposed to be the one reassuring you. My old age is making me emotional."

You let your body slump against hers. "We can take turns. If I let you bear that weight alone you might break a hip."

She scoffed, nudging your body. 'Ha-ha, very funny. how about I take Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and you take Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

Your eyes fluttered shut, despite knowing that even with it being far too early for you both to be up there was no way you were going back to sleep. "What about Saturdays and Sundays?"

Jennifer closed her eyes as well, trying to engrain the feeling of your body in her arms while she still had the chance. Before you found cuddling with your mom weird, or before she had to go away on another case and fall asleep alone and in a hotel bed.

"We'll flip a coin for it."

"Fair enough."

[telli1206]

House Of Tricks - Part 2

Carlos joins Uma’s crew, and Jay is ready to shoot his shot with him. But, is there another pirate just waiting to rock the boat?

Haaaaaappy Birthday, @hersilentlanguage! I know you’ve been eagerly awaiting a part 2 of this, so I got my ass in gear just for you, because you deserve ALL THE LOVE today. I hope it’s the best birthday yet for you. Much love 💖💖💖💖

Part 1

Evil, Jay never thought an attitude could be this hot.

But the freckled boy that’s in his room right now with arms crossed defiantly,  glaring daggers at him from the other side of his bed, is looking all kinds of fucking hot. His piercing brown eyes alone are enough to make Jay lose his breath from the tightness in his...chest. 

Or, from somewhere else.

“I never said I’d room with you. That wasn’t part of the agreement.”

Jay smiles back at the sneering pink lips directed at him. Carlos is trying so hard to look angry and put off, but it’s not having the desired effect at all. Everything he does is just so damn cute.

“Is that so?” 

Jay stares into angry eyes, refusing to look phased by the growing heat behind them. “Well, I don’t recall specific sleeping arrangements in the agreement at all. Unless, I missed something?”

With every word Jay takes a tiny step closer, inching his way into Carlos’ space as subtley as he can. The boy is quick to notice though. and Jay recognizes the slight tinge of fear that flickers into his eyes, which is soon blinked away and replaced with a hardened stare. Carlos takes a few deliberate steps to his side, sidling away from the potential Jay is creating to have him cornered by the window.

Jay snickers and shakes his head, maneuvering himself quickly in Carlos’ direction and darting an arm out to block his way. “Not so fast, pup. Where are you off to? We’ve got to figure out what side of the bed is gonna be yours.”

Jay uses his free hand to gesture towards his bed, throwing Carlos a suggestive wink. But Carlos responds with only an eye roll and a generous step back, taking him out of Jay’s reach.

“I need to talk to Uma. I’m about to call off our deal.” 

“Aw, c’mon now, don’t be mean,” Jay whines, jutting his lip out in an overly dramatic pout. “I saved you from your mom, brought you to The Revenge, convinced Uma to take you in. Don’t you like me even a little bit after all that?”

He adds wide, sad eyes and a quiver in his lip as he waits for Carlos’ reaction. But the boy simply scoffs, brushing some white curls out of his eyes as he looks away from Jay with a scowl still on his lips.

“Is that what you call breaking into my house, kidnapping me and stealing my mom’s furs so she’ll kill me if I try to go back, giving me no other options but to stay here and join Uma’s crew?” Carlos snaps, with an indignant curl to his lips. “SO sorry I forgot to thank you for all that.”

Jay chuckles at the heavy sarcasm in Carlos’ tone. His incensed banter is so entertaining, Jay is almost too distracted to notice Carlos’ fast shuffle around to Jay’s unprotected side. When he realizes what’s happening he takes a flying leap to grab at a freckled arm, but narrowly misses as Carlos tucks and rolls onto the bed, popping up with a triumphant smile on the other side. 

“Pup! Get back here!” Jay snarls, crawling across the bed, watching Carlos intently as he scoots his way to the door.

"This...roommate situation just isn’t going to work out for me, Jay,” Carlos laments mockingly, shrugging at him. “I’m fixing this with Uma, and there’s nothing that’s going to change my mind.”

Jay sighs when Carlos reaches for the handle, but at that moment the door swings open, and Carlos jumps back, arms raised, watching another familiar pirate sweep into the room, with a taunting sneer that glints almost as brightly as the hook dangling from his coatsleeve.

“And how’re the new roomies gettin’ along?” Harry sing-songs, his eyes darting from Jay’s crawling stance on the bed to Carlos and back. He takes in the boy’s sneer in front of him and lets out a chuckle.

“Aw, whatsa matter pup?” he coos, slipping a finger under Carlos’ chin to give it a tickle. 

Carlos snarls and smacks him away, almost opting to take a step behind him. But he glances at Jay and chooses to take a step over instead, keeping him closer to the door than the bed.

“I want to talk to Uma. This-” Carlos emphasizes by waving his hand between himself and Jay, “-isn’t going to work.”

Harry grins, casting his gaze back to Jay. “Well wha’ happened here now, Jay? I figured yeh’d be happy to share a bed with the cutesy lil’ pup.” He drops a hand to Carlos’ shoulder, tightening his grip when the boy tries to wriggle away. “Stop bein’ such a bed hog now.”

“Shut it, Hook,” Jay growls through gritted teeth. “I’m MORE than happy to share with him and he knows it.”

“I don’t want to,” Carlos butts in, still trying to shake off Harry. “If Uma won’t give me another room...I’d rather, take my chances at home. With my mother.”

“Eh, I might rethink that if I was you, pup,” Harry snarks. He raises a contempuous brow before ducking back out the door, leaving a curious Carlos and Jay staring pensively from inside the room.

When Harry returns, he’s carrying a balled up...animal?...of some sort, splattered in an array of blue and green paints. It’s only when he starts to unball it, letting the fur roll to the ground, that Carlos recognizes what it is and releases an audible gasp that carries a mix of both shock and horror.

“Harry!” Carlos chastises, snatching the fur from his hands. He pulls it open, holding it by the arms as the rest of the coat falls down in a flurry of color and the gleam of fresh paint, and lets out choked sob.

“Y-you...didn’t! Not my mom’s favorite fox fur!” 

Carlos’ eyes are wide with fear, bulging at the sight of the clumpy and  sticky fur coat, showing only a few tufts of the soft, silvery gray fur that once adorned the entire coat.

“Heh, yeah...Harry chuckles softly, rubbing at the back of his neck. He tries his usual playful smile, but even Jay can see the tinge of regret in his eyes.

“Gil wanted teh try an’ make it a lil’ more Uma’s style...” Harry explains slowly, his eyes dragging up and down the coat in Carlos’ hands. Carlos dips a finger into a spot of paint, rubbing it between his fingers for a moment before dropping the coat down in disgust.

“You ruined it! She’s going to kill me!” Carlos groans, clutching at his head in frustration, his eyes alight with fear and anguish. “At least I had a chance to get them back when they were just stolen!”

“Yeh. Guess you can’t paint fur, can yeh? Gilly and I learnt the hard way. I jus’ wish we stopped after that one...”

“Harry...you didn’t!” Carlos eyes are even wider, if that’s possible, and he’s gripping Harry’s shoulders now, the skin of the pirate’s biceps looking white where the boys nails are dug in. 

Harry rasps out a tiny laugh, smiling weakly at the boy’s pained expression. “Sorry, pup. Best if you stay here, don’tcha think? At least yeh know Uma’ll keep yeh safe.”

The fire that Carlos possessed just a few minutes is lost now, buried underneath the terror he has at the thought of facing Cruella’s wrath. He drops onto the bed wordlessly, burying his face in his hands and fisting and tugging at his curls.

“Jay.”

Jay almost doesn’t register his name, he’s too intently focused on the boy he wanted in his bed, now sitting so close and looking so distressed. Harry says his name again and he finally looks up, recognizing his nod towards the door as a signal for them to speak privately.

He slides off the bed, stopping for a moment with one hand hovering over Carlos, silently contemplating the offer of a comforting pat. But Harry clears his throat loudly, prompting Jay to drop his hand and follow him outside.

“Jus’ one lil’ thing, lad,” Harry starts, his voice just above a whisper. “I know Uma agreed that you could have pup in yer room, but she doesn’ want ‘im teh hate us either...so, she said you have a week teh make...’friends,’ er whatever, or she’ll give ‘im another room if he asks fer it.”

“What??” Jay rasps, eyes narrowed at Harry. 

Harry puts his hands up defensively. “Aye now, don’ kill the messenger, ‘k? I’m jus’ tellin’ yeh what the cap’n told me.” 

But Harry pulls a smirk before Jay can start to relax. “O’ course, I did tell Uma I’d be happy teh share a room with the runt if he doesn’ want ya,” he adds with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Jay’s mouth drops at Harry’s words. He quickly recovers though and clenches his jaw, balling his fists as he stares Harry down.

“What the fuck, Hook??” He grits, putting a fist in the pirate’s face. “That’s playin’ dirty! I thought I made it pretty clear he’s mine, didn’t I?”

Harry backs up, giving Jay a casual shrug. “Not if he doesn’ want yeh, I guess. Uma’s orders. She wants those traps, and she’s not willin’ teh give ‘em up jus’ so you can keep ‘em fer yourself.” He smiles and turns to leave, giving Jay a final glance over his shoulder.

“Pup’s cute, yeh know? An’ fiery. Can’ waste that if yeh don’ know how to have fun together. I’m sure he an’ I can have a good time.” 

Jay growls as Harry blows him a kiss before finally walking away. He curses his own luck, hurrying back into his room and to Carlos. He didn’t realize his plan to woo the new pirate would have a timeline, but he’ll be damned if he lets Harry get the spoils of his labor.

He closes the door behind him gently while he looks for Carlos. He’s no longer seated on the bed, but a quick scan and Jay easily spots the boy curled up in the bed, still and silent, with his back facing the door. Jay’s threadbare blanket is draped over him, pulled up to his shoulders, with his head resting on the pillow.

Jay exhales quietly, taking slow, gentle steps toward the bed. He sits on the edge to carefully toe off his boots, his eyes never leaving the boy in his bed. Carlos breaths are even and steady, and Jay can only assume that he’s asleep. Not surprising after all the change he’s gone through in just a single day.

Jay opts not to disturb him. Instead, he rolls over onto the bed, pulling the blanket over him to and laying beside Carlos, facing his back. He watches the boy’s breathing for a few minutes, his fingers itching to touch him, to wrap an arm around his waist and hold him while he sleeps.

He shakes off his urges though, choosing to close his eyes and try to let sleep take him over. The image of the freckled boy next to him still haunts his mind, his thoughts consumed with his desires, hindered by a new limited time span. 

Harry can’t fucking win Carlos. His usual outright flirting just isn’t going to cut it anymore. It’s time to come up with a plan. 

[charged-wanderlust]

a beautiful hurricane, pt. 3 | jett slater x mc x remy chevalier

THIS... THIS IS ALMOST 3K WORDS LMFAOOO well. i hope that makes up for the wait SDFGJSDHDS warning for mild smut ahead!!! anyway thank you so much @mcira for commissioning me, it helps me greatly and was so fun to do! if anyone else wants me to write them something, my commission prices are here!

What you really end up doing, instead of talking to Remy, is first, talking to Nikolai.

It only felt right - nobody knew Remy like Nikolai did, you’re pretty sure they dated once upon a time but refuse to talk about it, and Nikolai working with all of you made his approval very significant to the matter at hand.

“You’re asking for my blessing… to ask out Remy?” He blinks, dazed and confused, an uncommon expression from the mastermind himself. “Why do I have a say in who he dates?”

“It’s less asking for permission and more like asking for advice,” you explain quickly, scratching awkwardly at the back of your neck. “We know Remy is the jealous type, that much is obvious. So we just wanna know what you think on the whole polyamory thing - would Remy try it? Do you know how he feels about.. about us?”

Nikolai scoffs, his signature smirk returning. “The real question is, who doesn’t know how he feels about you two?” His words make you and Jett flush parallel shades of red, but you let him continue. “Yes, he’s definitely in love with you both. And that’s precisely why he hasn’t done anything about it; he doesn’t think he deserves one partner, let alone two. Instead, he drags out this con as long as physically possible just so he can pretend to be your husband a little bit longer, pretend like he can have you before you inevitably end up with Jett.”

Jett strokes his chin in thought, gears turning in his brain. “That would also explain why he’s been a lot more forward with me lately, but only when MC isn’t around… wow, he really thinks it’s his last chance, huh?”

He nods. “Exactly. In his head, he’s not worthy of love and you two deserve each other and are perfect together. I don’t even think the thought of polyamory has even crossed his mind.”

“Well it should!” Jett protests, like it means anything to Nikolai. “We both wanna date him, and he wants both of us! What now?”

“What do you think?” Nikolai asks it like it’s the most obvious question in the world. “You ask him.”

-

It has to be dramatic, you’d decided. Something awe-inducing, something solid and concrete so he can’t argue - because if there’s one thing Remy Chevalier knows how to do, it’s argue. You work with the Poppy to get Remy out of the penthouse - Vivienne might have poisoned him just a little to get the job done - long enough to stuff his room with lilies of the valley, and you help Jett paint the border of Remy’s mirror with all the little things you can think of that have some semblance of importance to you.

Making sure to use easy-to-remove paints, the two of you get carried away, branching from the edges of his mirror onto the walls, painting sunsets shared and fireworks made and foods had together. You and Jett work in perfect tandem with each other, art connecting to make one big picture that almost looks like a time-lapse of all the time you’d spent with him; the sunset where Jett realised his love for Remy all those years ago fading into the ice cream shop you discovered Remy’s favourite flavour was vanilla, fading into the river you all boated down together and learned that Remy has a surprisingly sweet singing voice.

Jett keeps pausing in the middle of his paintings, though, and eventually it becomes enough to make you ask.

“Jett? At first I thought you were just thinking about the painting real hard, but you’re not even looking at it. What’s wrong?”

You thought he was starting to get insecure, but instead, he laughs. He laughs and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

“Nothing’s wrong, love, I’m looking at you.”

“Oh.”

“You’re most attractive when you’re in your element like this, I think,” he explains, touching up the clouds on his side of the wall. “I just can’t help but think of how lucky I am.”

About an hour too early, the door flies open, and both of you whip around to find Remy in the doorway.

“Ah-ha I knew you guys were… up to… something…..” His voice trails off as he takes in the view before him, the flowers he’d only ever given those he’d loved, the paintings that he recognised the meanings of instantly, his own face in the mirror with a little crown painted atop his head- “What… what is all this? I thought it’d be another prank but… this… this is beautiful…”

You exchange a look with Jett, grinning from ear to ear, and gesture Remy to come sit on the bed with you.

“Oh-ho-ho, this is a really elaborate one is it? Let me guess. All of this for a really well-timed whoopee cushion?”

“How you wound me,” Jett sighs, bringing his hand to his forehead. “You really think that low of us?”

“I assure you, Remy,” you chip in, “I wouldn’t spend this much effort on a prank.”

“Then what else?”

Once again, you turn to Jett, who looks just as uncertain of what to say as you are. “Uh. Something important?”

Taking a deep breath, you figure you’re going to have to do the talking for the both of you.

“I’m gonna start talking, Remy, and I don’t want you to say shit till I say I’m finished. Okay?”

Remy is completely and utterly bewildered, but he nods slowly and sits on the bed, door shutting behind him as he observes the memories plastered all over his bedroom wall.

“We’re in love with you,” Jett blurts out, and it startles you so much you elbow him in the rib.

“What was that for?!”

“Ever heard of laying it on slowly?!”

“You’re… what?”

You sigh, gathering the courage to look Remy in the eyes as you talk. “Remy… over these past few months, working with you, getting to know you, the real you - the Remy underneath all those masks you wear to please people - I find I don’t want to stop being yours when the con ends. I-If you’ll have me, that is. And if you’ll have Jett, too.”

“It wasn’t the marriage con we did once that made me fall for you, actually,” Jett laughs, running a hand through his hair. “It was before that. That one kiss on the rooftop in Buenos Aires when the sun rose, when we didn’t go any further than that. All of a sudden it wasn’t about the sex anymore, or how good of a kisser you are - it was about you. Just you.”

“And before you butt in about me falling in love with you because you’re acting as my husband,” you interject, giving him a stern, knowing look that makes him shrink a little, “You’ve been teaching me all your tricks. I know when you’re being real or not. You can even test me.”

Something changes is Remy’s eyes when you say that, and he fixes them on yours.

“I love you.”

“That’s real.”

He smiles, but it’s the smile of a broken man, getting up to leave. “It’s not, ma cherie. You’re not as good as you think you are.”

“That’s also a lie!” He freezes, pinned under your glare, and you grab his hand, threading your fingers with his. Jett does the same with his other hand, face uncharacteristically solemn, and once again, Remy is speechless. “That’s what you want to believe, Remy, you’re lying to yourself more than anyone else. You think you’re getting in the way of us, you think you don’t deserve it but let me tell you, there’s a way. We can love you as much as we love each other - we do, and if you don’t wanna believe it that’s your own loss because we really, really care about you!”

The silence is is deafening enough to make your hands tremble.

“That- That’s all I have to say. Jett?”

“I’ve never been good with words,” Jett huffs, bringing Remy’s hand to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss across the man’s knuckles. “But I can prove how I feel about you in any way you ask, Remy. Through touch, through action, hell, through painting-” he gestures at the colourful wall behind him in exasperation, “-it’s all for you. These are all memories-”

“The time we had brunch on a boat,” Remy cut in, gazing fondly at the river painted atop his mirror. “The time in Bruges we kissed to be inconspicuous… the time I brought you ice cream tasting…” His eyes landed on the flowers adorning the sides of his room. “The flowers I’d given you.”

His mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to speak underwater, but he’s ran out of air - ran out of words - so instead, he wraps an arm around each of you and pulls you in for a soul-crushing hug, burying his face in your shoulders. He doesn’t make a noise, but his body quivers, and you and Jett realise he’s crying at the same time.

“I-I love you both, too.” His voice is small, but not weary - it’s just for you and Jett only, not the ears in the walls. “I love you both so much it-it- it hurts and I didn’t know what to do with myself and I just-”

He sits back up, wiping the tears from his face and giving you a real smile this time, the smile you see in your sketchbook, your dreams, your future - “It’s just too good to be true, almost. Like there’s meant to be a catch.”

Jett cups Remy’s face, kissing him softly, briefly, but enough to send tingles down his spine.

“The catch is you’re going to have to deal with both of us and all the shenanigans that ensue.”

Remy returns the kiss, just as chaste but just as lovingly. “I guess I have my hands full, then.”

“You sure do!” You laugh, climbing into his lap, jokingly shoving Jett aside - to which he yelps, “hey!” - and bringing your face close to Remy’s. “My turn, Remy. You told me a real kiss could tear open the sky. Care to demonstrate?”

He doesn’t waste a moment. You feel his smirk against your lips before you see it, welcoming the blistering heat as he pulls you closer to him, chest to chest. Finally, finally, finally - you thread your fingers in his long, silky hair, just like you’ve imagined so long, and all the teasing was so worth it because he kisses you like he can’t live without it. Maybe he can’t, not now that he’s had a taste and it really does break open the sky; the whole galaxy and beyond.

Getting impatient, Jett moves behind you, knocking Remy back onto the mattress and pinning you between them. He doesn’t expect you to stop kissing Remy - he knows firsthand how addicting his kiss is - instead, he tosses your hair over one shoulder and places his lips upon your now exposed neck, light, not tentative but tantalizing.

“Jett…”

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt you two,” he purrs next to your ear, ghosting his lips across the shell. “I’m quite enjoying the show.”

“You tease,” Remy half-chuckles-half-rasps, reaching past you to grab Jett’s collar and yank him down into another searing kiss, only to bite his lip harsh enough to make him gasp, then pulling back to leave him hanging.

Jett licks his lips, eyes flashing at the unspoken challenge. “So how are we doing this, then?”

“We’ve danced this dance before, you and I,” Remy muses, tracing Jett’s jawline with the pad of his thumb, “We should let MC decide.”

“I’ve danced this dance with both of you,” Jett snickers, peeling off the two of you to start working the buckles of his suspenders, giving you a cheeky wink. “Maybe I should give you tips. For example…”

He rolls you off Remy, pinning your wrists above your head, “MC likes being manhandled a little bit. And she’s really sensitive right here-” He sucks at the soft skin above your collarbone and you let out a soft whine on instinct, embarrassment painted all over your face, but you don’t miss the way Remy’s eyes darken at the sound.

“Good to know… any other tips I should know?”

“Ah-ah-ah, it should be fair for both of you.”

This time, he cages Remy to the bed, and you watch with rapt attention as he hikes the other man’s shirt up, giving you a brilliant view of his toned muscles. Jett leans down and drags his teeth along his v-line, making his legs twitch beneath him.

“Ah- Jett, you’re a menace.”

“You love it.”

A disgruntled sigh is the only confirmation he gives, but the smile on his face says it all as he shrugs off his shirt entirely, throwing it somewhere else in the room. “I quite preferred MC on top of me, actually.”

“Mm, it is a good look on you,” Jett agrees, helping you out of your clothes with surprising calmness compared to his usual frenzied movements. Clearly, Remy brings out the side of him that likes to really savour it.

Remy can’t help but groan at the sight of you in all your glory, taking Jett’s advice from earlier and tugging you atop him impatiently - maybe Jett brought out the beast in Remy, too.

Emboldened by his eagerness, you grind down on him, and the low rumble you hear from him in response is music to your ears. “I didn’t know our Remy was so… vocal.”

“Oh, you haven’t heard him when he’s taking it-”

“If we have to bring that up, mon coeur, I think you have me beat.”

You giggle, magnetically drawn to his lips once more while your hands fumble with his belt; Jett helps you discard the remaining cloth in the way so you and Remy finally, finally come together - it’s electric. You feel the static buzz all the way down to your toes, and it’s so, so good.

“Think you can handle both of us, love?” Jett peppers your shoulder blades with kisses, and while just the thought makes you shudder - you nod, almost too enthusiastically.

“I want it.”

“Good girl.”

The addition of Jett fills the room the with a chorus of moans that you can barely tell who from who. They give you a minute to adjust - ever the gentlemen - and next thing you know is an all-encompassing pleasure that pulses through your whole body, and you swear you can see stars. You have to bite down on Remy’s shoulder to not alert the entire building of the debauchery going on in the room, but he just grips your hips harder, growling deep in his chest.

“Don’t hold back on me, ma reveuse. Let us hear you.”

Who are you to deny him?

Noise complaints be damned, you think - the Poppy had stayed in town for this very reason. With every movement from Remy and Jett, your mind goes blank, only able to focus on the two of them working in perfect harmony, their hips, their lips, their hands, their voices, just them, them, them.

“C-Christ, you’re incredible- you’re both incredible. I’m- I’m-”

Jett’s pace stutters, but Remy keeps going, absolutely voracious, and your highs all crash down at once. Your back arches, toes curl, and you don’t even recognise the sounds leaving your mouth, but your two boyfriends ride out the wave with you, muttering choked-up praise in your ear and hushed I love you’s until your soul finally returns to your body.

The three of you collapse on the bed, a tangle of limbs and sweat, and Jett has the audacity to laugh. Not even having the breath to reply, you just tilt your head at him, raising a brow in question.

“Hah- If I knew this was how it would’ve ended up, I would’ve asked you both out a lot sooner, fuck…”

You gave him a worn-out, lazy grin. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Remy pecks your cheek affectionately, rolling out of bed to head for the bathroom. “I’ll get you a towel.”

“You did great, love,” Jett hums softly, stroking your hair rhythmically, gazing at you with entire galaxies behind his eyes. “Don’t worry. Between me and Remy, we can carry you everywhere until you can walk again.”

“I’d kiss that stupid smirk off your face if I had the energy,” you huff, crossing your arms. “You’re way too smug for your own good.”

“You love it.”

Remy returns with a damp towel, gently wiping you down with enough care to turn your limbs to jelly if they weren’t already bone-tired. “We do, unfortunately. What a shame.”

Jett weakly whacks him on the shoulder, and the three of you laugh together like the notes of a perfect chord. It’s hectic, all of you being together, but it’s perfect. Life never did stop being a hurricane, but with these two by your side, you know you can surrender to the harsh winds, letting it carry you along like a roller coaster - heart always thumping, eyes always shining.

You never knew a hurricane could be so beautiful.

[rudysrings]

Twin Pogues of the OBX - 6

A/N: Shortest part yet, but I promise more is coming tomorrow and I just couldn’t bring myself to figure out a good stopping place other than here :)

Warnings: underage drinking, cursing...I think that’s it for this one? 

Word Count: 2.2k

Masterlist

The next morning, you guys took out the HMS Pogue, before realizing the only way you could figure out the location of the wreck and with it, the gold, was to get access to the internet and plug in the coordinates.

Of course, with the power out on the Cut, there was no way you could get online from home. JJ worked as a busboy at one of the fancy hotels on the kook side, and offered to let you guys in.

As always, the familiar warmth of the sun felt nice on your skin. Somehow, after the events of yesterday, it felt like forever since you guys had just hung out on the boat—tanning, swimming, drinking.

You felt uncomfortable today, uninterested in your usual bikinis and shorts. Instead, you borrowed one of your brother’s long-sleeved shirts, usually saved for the winter, and pulled on some faded, worn skinny jeans over your bikini bottoms.

Of course, Kiara noticed, giving your ass a friendly slap as she asked, “What’s with the fit today?”

You threw an arm over her shoulder, hers circling your waist as you walked towards the van. “I just wasn’t feelin’ it today.”

“You’re gonna get real hot, real fast. It’s breaking 100 today.”

“I’ve got my suit under. If worse comes to worse, I’ll just strip down to that.”

“Suit yourself.”

It was rare that you felt insecure. You weren’t ashamed of your physical appearance, no. It might’ve been the realization that your dad had intentionally abandoned you that had shaken you so much. You were feeling vulnerable already and being exposed all day would be a physical manifestation of your fear.

You were quieter than normal, but the pogues didn’t question it, noticing the opposite in John B. It was as if last night had given your brother purpose, something concrete he could actually put his mind to, rather than wonder for days on end.

Once inside, you guys had found out it was about 900ft down, almost off the deep end, but reachable. Though not totally legal, the pogues hatched a plan to ‘borrow’ the drone from the salvage yard that JJ’s dad used to work for.

You asked if you could sit this one out, and, taking one look at your defeated figure, no one disagreed. “I’m going to go and try and write for a bit today, alright?”

You had been a part of a band with a few kids from school, scoring gigs here and there to scrape in whatever money you could. It allowed you a living while doing something you loved at the same time. You were thankful for it, and for Kiara’s dad, who made sure you knew that the band was always welcome to play at the Wreck and earn something for the time they performed. Part of it had to do with the fact that the band always improved business, people staying longer for dessert just to hear you play one more set, but part of it was that he just liked you. Though you were just as crazy, if not crazier than the other pogues, it was easy to see that you had an idea for your future and that’s all that Mr. Carrera ever wanted for his daughter. Though the band had broken up before the summer, with both the drummer and the lead guitarist having graduated high school and moved out of the outer banks for college, you still wrote from time to time. It was your own sort of therapy, the cathartic ritual of trying to reach somewhere within your mind to actually create something. 

Kiara grinned. “Yeah! You should definitely come down to the wreck later tonight; it’s karaoke night!”

You assured her you wouldn’t miss it for the world.

John B gave you a pat on the back as you exited the van. They dropped you off at the Chateau and drove off, JJ shooting finger guns at you and making you smile.

You spent the day at the Chateau, working through your songs and nursing a rare bottle of old wine you had managed to hide from the others underneath your bathroom cabinet. 

You contemplated the last few days, not just about how unloved you felt by your parents, but also the growing thing between you and a certain blonde haired boy. 

You smiled as you strummed the guitar that your brother had given you for your thirteenth birthday as you remembered when you and JJ had first met. 

The third grade was hard enough without a twin brother that radiated energy, leaving you looking like the evil twin who lived in the shadows and collected the limbs of barbies in different containers. Which you did, but you didn’t expect to be so ostracized for it. 

You were alone that day at recess, walking across the black top with your arms hugging yourself. Your dad had done a poor job of helping you with your hair, leaving it a stringy mess across your back. 

Suddenly, your face met the ground and you groaned, turning your head to see a halo of gold behind you. You blinked quickly, pushing yourself up to see a blonde boy with crooked teeth apologizing profusely. 

“Dude! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, this guy—”

You noticed something in his hand. A Gameboy?

Behind him, a pudgy boy with a sweater vest and khaki shorts was quickly approaching and you soon understood what was going on. So this blonde little boy was a thief?

On instinct, you grabbed the gameboy from the blonde boy and shoved it in your backpack as his attacker came running up. 

He shoved the blonde boy to the ground and shouted. “Where is it? You took it, you thief!”

Furious at the violent treatment of the blonde, even though he had stolen, you threw yourself at the bully, your nails scratching him. 

In the end, all of you got in trouble, but when you walked to the bus that day, you gave the blonde boy the game boy and invited him to your place, where you had your own. He gave you a wicked smile, before giving you a big hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, pretty. I’m JJ.”

You didn’t know why, but you had always been protective of the boy, without a single good reason. He had always hidden his best qualities, but maybe some part of you recognized a part of yourself in him instantly. A kindred spirit of sorts. A hotheaded mess that was awful at suppressing his emotions but didn’t know how to deal with them any other way. A boy that would do anything for his friends. You didn’t know it at the time, but you found a mirrored version of yourself in that nine year old boy, and you brought him home with you. 

At sunset, you gave up on your songwriting. You had made little progress anyways, instead heading to the Wreck as you promised Kiara. 

When you walked in, the pogues were already shoving their faces happily after a long day. Kiara gave you a huge smile and beckoned you in to hear what had gone down. 

You gave JJ a kiss on the cheek for no reason at all, and he blushed, quipping, “Hey, wifey!”

You pulled your brother and Pope in for a big hug, feeling nostalgic after your lingering thoughts of childhood memories today. 

Before the pogues could comment on your drastically improved mood and sudden need for affection, you suggested that you all get started on karaoke before downing a beer, getting all of them excited.

You danced with Pope John B’s awful, fast-paced rapping of fifty-cent, but that was the point of karaoke, you guessed. 

Pope twirled you, before grabbing your hands and pulling you towards him, shaking his head in a silly fashion. You threw your head back and laughed, catching JJ smiling at the sight from his seat. 

You continued dancing with Pope as Kiara kept vibing on her own a few feet away. She finally had enough of John B’s voice and stole the microphone from him, replacing his screeching with her gorgeous velvet tones as she began singing her go to — Come and Get Your Love. You watched as JJ finally stood up, striding over shyly, with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, raising his eyebrows at you in question. You let John B whisk Pope away as you pulled JJ to you by his forearms. 

You turned around, letting him cage you from behind as you swayed within the comfort of his arms. John B and Pope were waltzing beside you, making you chuckle. 

JJ sang softly to some of the lyrics, so low that you barely heard, only catching some when he bent close to your ears. “What’s the matter with your mind...And you’re mine, and you look so divine...If you want some, take some.” You tried to keep down the goosebumps, but of course, you failed, the fluttering of emotions you always tried to bury making its way up your throat. Or was that the alcohol?

He dropped his head to your shoulder, smiling as his hair brushed your collarbone. “You smell nice.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows and turned in his arms. “I haven’t even showered today!” 

JJ shrugged. “You always smell nice.”

The beer made you giggle, “Do I? Are you getting soft on me, Maybank? You dance and sniff girls’ hair now?”

JJ scoffed, before saying. “Soft? Me? Get outta here, Trouble.” He added smoothly, “And it’s only your hair I sniff.”

You wrinkled your nose. “That’s a little stalkerish, don’t you think? Should I be concerned? C’mon Bear, you’ve gotta live up to your rep.”

JJ shook his head, pulling you back towards him so that you were chest to chest, forced to wrap your arms around him to keep your balance. “Fuck that, just dance with me for fuck’s sake.”

You felt Kiara’s eyes on you, smiling as she moved on to another song. 

Eventually, you got tired and let Kiara pull you away from the guys for a breath of fresh air. 

You walked across the beach, arms crossed over your abdomen. Kiara kept looking at you with that teasing smile and you finally had enough. “What?”

Kiara shook her head. “Nothing, just, you know it’s kind of obvious? You’re so thick headed sometimes, but you clearly –”

“Have feelings for JJ?” You finished for her. She looked at you in surprise as you turned back to the waves. “I’m not so thick-headed. I know what I feel. I’m not stupid.”

She nudged your side, giggling. “Well, he’s really feeling you, too. Like all the butterflies and shit, I swear.” Kiara gave you jazz hands, emphasizing the jittery feeling of a crush.

You smiled. “Yeah, I know.” You knew JJ liked you. You knew it in the way he was always looking out for you, no matter what was going on or what he was doing, his focus was involuntarily always on you. Even your own twin brother didn’t pay that much attention to you. There had always been a tension in the air between you two, a sort of understanding of mutual attraction. It weighed heavy, not just in the air, but on your shoulders, on your heart. Because you knew that you couldn’t let anything come of it. 

Kiara stopped, holding your elbow to keep you from walking any further. She looked confused. “Then why don’t you do anything about it? The rule’s bullshit, anyways.”

You took a deep breath, looking at your friend with heavy guilt as you tried to put into words why you knew that it was a bad idea. “Because we’re so similar. Neither of us have our heads screwed on right. We’d eventually destroy each other. And the worst part is...After the chaos, I wouldn’t have my best friend to help me pick up the pieces.” You shrugged. “I figure if there’s one time in my life I’m going to think before I act, it’s with this. Because this is one of the most important things in my life and I know there wouldn’t be any coming back from that.”

Kiara opened and closed her mouth multiple times, before finally asking, “But what if it works out? What if you create something beautiful?”

You laughed in denial, your throat tight. “It wouldn’t, Kie. It kills me to say it, but I know myself. I can’t be what he needs. I can’t bank on what ifs, anyways.”

Kiara pulled you towards her, wrapping you in a warm embrace. She looked behind you at the guys, who, from the looks of things, were beginning to get suspicious of you guys.

You and Kiara began walking back. Right before the two of you were within earshot of the rest of the pogues, Kiara took your hand and said to you, with complete surety, “For the record, Y/N, I think you guys are being idiots. You were lucky enough to find something real and you’re throwing it away. Because what? Because you’re scared? I just—I just don’t get it.” She scoffed, shaking her head as walking back inside, leaving you back at square one, wondering if you were being foolish and cowardly.

Masterlist

Tag List (If there is a strike through your user it’s bc I couldn’t tag you bc tumblr is wack sometimes...)

@hurricane-abigail @omigodyall​ @timotaychalabae​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​@caswinchester2000​ @meghanisdeadinside​ @harrysbbby​ @official-maddibrown @xdelicates@maybebanks@yourwonderbelle @treestarrrrrrrr @loco-latte@sspidermanss@theradvibes @eviction-notice-no666@screamingnewsies @the-fandom-life-forever @dolanfivsosxox@vibin-n-thrivin @em-aesthe  @the-real-jort @riverdaleserpent04@free-pool-trash @mileven-reddie @drewswannabegirl@queen1054 @eternalharry@alwayshopelesss @superqalifragilistik@smileyxdolans@fangirling-all-day @dianaillusion@catonthesideoftheroad @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise​ @thelovelydreamer17 @http-cherries​ @pit-zuh​ @kisssmefree​ @starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies​ @outerbankstings​ @oliviadrake1​

I’m also kind of new to tagging and rlly bad at it so if something is wrong, I’m sorry and pls let me know and I’ll try my best to fix it!

I also lost my updated tag list i’m so dumb so let me know if I told you i would tag you and i didn’t oop

Stay safe and stay healthy!

[a-pirate-my-hearties]

The Preparations (Hook x adult Wendy fanfiction), chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Wendy Darling, Captain James Hook or Smee, I merely write my own interpretations of their characters. I also don’t own the song “Jolly Sailor Bold”.

FACECLAIMS: Captain James Hook - Jason Isaacs as Hook in “Peter Pan” 2003

Wendy Darling - Rachel Hurd-Wood (examples: her role in “Dorian Gray” and in general her looks as an adult person)

Smee - Richard Briers as Smee in “Peter Pan” 2003

You can find the first chapter of my fic here!

Jolly Sailor Bold - this is my beloved cover of this song! 

*********

Throughout his existence in Neverland James Hook had rarely dreamed. If ever, then those were the nightmares of that blasted, insolent boy Peter Pan, the crocodile that ate his hand and would gladly feast on the rest of his flesh, or simply flashes of images, like scattered glass, that made no sense to him. But the last couple of nights were different.

He has been having the same dream on repeat.

James saw a person standing in front of a full lenght mirror, at first the image was blurred, but soon enough he could see clearly. A girl in her nightdress, brushing her long, wavy, honey brown hair. She was standing with her back to him so James couldn’t see her face directly, but it was reflecting in the mirror. He saw jade green eyes, their gaze level but undoubtedly fierce  and inquisitive, now slightly softened by sleepiness as she was preparing for bed.

He recognised that face and those eyes. How could he not?

Wendy Darling.

But no, no longer a girl, those eyes were the eyes of a young scholar, he thought in his dream –

A woman.

Out of nowhere, as if he were deaf before, he heard a female voice singing, gradually surrounding him, as an echo in a well. He realized Wendy was singing.

Softly, mindlessly Wendy was singing.

My heart is pierced by Cupid I disdain all glittering gold There is nothing can console me But my jolly sailor bold…1

******

Suddenly the soft voice was replaced with shouting and swearing of his crew and his bosun was babbling nervously at him. A groan escaped Hook’s throat as he was waking up, still face down on his desk.

‘Capt’n? Capt’n? I was tellin’ ‘em dogs to get back to work  but ‘ey wouldn’ listen – ‘

‘I was dreaming, Smee.’

Smee’s eyebrows went up. ‘Of Pan, capt’n?’

With a heavy sigh Hook finally rose from the desk and gave his bosun an unreadable look, then walked to the window of his cabin to stare outside and there was such longing painted on his face, even Smee hasn’t seen him like this in a long while, and he knew Captain Hook  for, well, forever.

‘No, Smee. Of Wendy Darling.’2

Smee’s brows went even further up, but then he smiled fondly, remembering The Storyteller. ‘That Wendy lass, eh? Awful good at tellin’ stories. Must have grown quite lot since – ‘

‘Yes.’

Smee knew well  enough when not to provoke the captain, so he said no more. He just stood there a bit awkwardly, awaiting for the orders.

James Hook stood at the window, arms folded behind his back, but he wasn’t looking at anything in particular. His mind was filled with questions. What about those reoccuring dreams? Why Wendy Darling? Surely, when he met her she was a bright and daring child, but back then he used her just as a bait for Pan, nothing more. He didn’t like children anyway, not to mention he tried to kill Pan, of whom she was fond of (‘tis just a timble’, she said to Hook, before giving Pan her hidden kiss), her and her brothers, and about that he was sure, she never forgot. And wasn’t Wendy a part of his own demise, when he disappeared in the belly of the crocodile? (‘Old, alone, done for!’, oh, you cruel, cruel child). He managed to claw his way out of that damned beast with his hook, because in the cursed place called Neverland he couldn’t even rest. He couldn’t even die.

Maybe the fact he was still alive and those dreams meant something.

Maybe there was a chance for him.

Hook scolded himself in his mind for such thoughts. Years of loneliness, bitterness and dissapointment have taken their toll and he felt a wave anger taking over him, red flash reaching his eyes.

‘Capt’n?’

The wave was over as soon as it began. He had to make a plan. He had to –

Wendy...

With a sigh Hook turned around to Smee.

‘What are you standing here for, you old fool?’, he waved his left hand in a dismissive manner.

‘The orders, Capt’n – ‘

‘I will be on the deck shortly, that bunch of scoundrels – just help me with this bloody thing, Smee.’

‘Aye aye, capt’n.’

Smee helped James put on and fasten the leather harness that kept the hook in place. When James attached the hook with a loud „click”, he felt the same click in his head. The plan was beginning to form.

Bosun helped him comb his curls and then dress into trousers, shirt and his favourite red brocade frock coat.

Smee was ready to leave Hook’s quarters but was stopped by his voice.

‘Smee?’

‘Yes, capt’n?’

‘I think  I have a plan, concerning our dear Wendy Darling. And I think it’s time we put that Neverhell’s magic to work. To our advantage. I need three seamstresses, the best ones you can find me. They are to be paid well  and equipped with everything they need. We will need fairy dust as well… in vast amounts. A boat that will fit three people at least.’

‘Don’t think I follow, capt’n.’

‘We’ll have a masquerade ball in the Black Castle, Smee. But for that, I need you and at least another one  to transport Wendy safely here.’

Smee didn’t understand. But he was a bosun, and Hook was the captain, and Smee was proud that captain trusted him with such an important task. He puffed out his chest proudly.

‘Aye aye capt’n!’

Hook gave Smee a nod that meant he could leave.

His plan was time consuming and it required a lot of scheming, people and magic. But it had a chance of success. He was, after all, Captain James Hook of The Jolly Roger.

‘And Smee?’, Hook turned around, the corners of his lips curling up slightly.

‘Aye?’

‘I will  deliver her her invitation myself.’

1A piece of lyrics from „Jolly Sailor Bold”. I don’t own the song.

2So here I’m using that scene from Peter Pan 2003 where Captain Hook is first introduced to build my own scene. Paraphrasing it, if you will, or paying it a hommage. :)

@wisp-of-a-spook @bela-leerox @peritwotone @trierarchuncus-prairiensis @rosesandglitter @sephirayne I hope you will enjoy this chapter :)

[nubianamy]

35k, PG, Finn/Sam, pre-slash, pre-canon, camp, series, drama

from chapter 3

Every time Finn and Sam were around the campfire after that, Finn encouraged him to sing. Sometimes it was with Aggie’s borrowed guitar, and sometimes it was just him, without any accompaniment. Sam had a strong, melodic voice, and it didn’t really need the guitar, but Finn noticed he was louder and more confident when he was strumming along, and that was great to witness.

One evening, after most of the guys had gone back to their cabins and Finn and Sam were there tending the dying fire, Sam turned to him curiously. “How come you never sing by yourself? I mean, I would play anything you wanted to sing.”

“I don’t sing,” Finn shook his head perhaps a little too quickly, “that’s kind of the rule me and Puck have. Like, he’s the front man for the band, and I get to do the harmonies and stuff when we mess around.”

Sam seemed to accept that at face value, which suited Finn just fine, even if it involved throwing Puck under the bus with the implication that Puck had decided on the rule. When really, it was because whenever Finn had taken lead vocals, he’d managed to almost put the beater through the kick drum, he got so tense.

“The thing is, I can barely hear you when I’m singing,” Sam said, poking the fire with a long stick. “I’m kind of loud in my own ears, if you know what I mean. But what I can hear sounds really good.”

He smiled over his shoulder at Finn, not teasing, not waiting for Finn to say something, just because that was how Sam was. Being next to him, watching him smile like that, gave Finn courage. He took a deep breath. “I, uh… I used to sing all the time, when I was a kid. My mom had all these cassette tapes, and we’d play and sing in the kitchen and in the car. And she dated this guy, Darren. He always said I should be a singer when I grew up.”

“Sounds like he was really supportive.” Sam turned so he was facing Finn, digging the stick into the ground so he could lean against it, “What about your mom? Did she... not like it?” He quickly added, “I just... you don’t sing anymore, so I assume someone convinced you not to, or something.”

“Nobody,” Finn said, shrugging. “I mean, nobody in particular. You know how guys are. It just stopped being cool to do stuff like that. Like playing video games or reading comics. Me and Puck, we still do those things together, but… we don’t tell anybody? That would kind of be the death of our popularity, and Quinn, she thinks that’s really important.”

Sam nodded slowly, and in the darkness and the firelight it was hard to read much of his expression, “I guess people don’t do a lot of things they want to do. But, everyone here likes the singing. And I definitely do, and I like comic books and video games, so you already know I’m super lame.” He reached forward to nudge Finn’s knee with his fingers as Finn chuckled. “If you ever wanted to try with me, that’d be cool.”

“Try singing? I mean, we’ve done that lots.” Finn gave him a nervous smile. “Maybe if nobody else was around, I would. If it was just us.”

Sam looked down at the log they were sitting on for a long moment before he looked back and smiled, “I mean, Sean’s always sneaking over to the cheerleading camp, right? You come and get me when you’re ready, and I’m happy to listen.”

It didn’t happen that night, or the night after that, but Finn thought about Sam’s suggestion a lot, maybe more than he should have. It was running through his mind pretty much all the time when he wasn’t focusing on something else. Which, unfortunately, seemed to be during a lot of the practices.

“Hudson! Are you planning on running at any point this morning!” Coach Tyler yelled, and Finn picked up the pace as he quickly as he could until he was next to Sean again.

“Look, dude,” Sean looked around and gave Finn a pointed look, “You need to focus.”

“I’m trying—”

“No, your mind’s somewhere else,” Sean reached over and tapped the side of his head with the back of his hand. “Listen, I get it. You’re not finding this challenging. But the QB boat has sailed, and you need to be giving this your all, okay? Now... What can I do to get your mind off whatever it’s on, and back on these plays? Because we’ve got our second game coming up, and if Lucas loses to Sam’s team? He’s gonna be fucking insufferable.”

“Seriously, it’s nothing. It’s just something between me and Sam.” Finn shook his head, “We haven’t had time to really work it out—”

“Great. Me and Aggie are gonna go smoke weed in another cabin tonight. So, you and Sam can pick a room and hash this all out, before I lose my patience with you, dweeb.”

Finn watched as Sean moved away and was about to move himself when there was a hand on his shoulder, stopping him dead. He winced, expecting to see Coach Tyler, but instead Lucas was looking at him with a very neutral expression. “You’re interested in being QB?”

“Kind of?” Finn tried to settle under Lucas’s gaze. He’d been friendly enough to him, but then he’d turn around and be terrible to Aggie. Finn didn’t trust him. “I mean, yeah, I’m interested, but… that’s your position, right? Yours and Sam’s?”

“It’s like saying the circus belongs to the ringmaster and the accordion-playing monkey,” Lucas rolled his eyes, and looked Finn up and down, “I’m not going to be playing next year, and I kind of like the idea of passing this on to someone. I mean, you’ve got shitty taste in friends, but...” He shrugged. “I’ll find you when I’m ready, Hudson.”

Finn watched him walk away, feeling much the same as he had when Darren told him he should be a singer. Seriously, if I had your voice, my group would still exist. Keep it up. He felt a shiver. It didn’t matter in that moment if Sam wanted to be QB or not. He pictured himself on the field, in the center of the team, calling the plays, catching the hike, passing the ball for the touchdown. It actually felt possible.

Maybe that was why, when Sam asked him at dinner, “So are we singing tonight by the fire?” Finn shook his head.

“Aggie and Sean are busy,” he said. “We can be alone in the cabin.”

“Oh.” Sam seemed to hesitate, causing the line of people waiting for food behind him to stop for a moment, before he quickly took a step forward again. “Yeah. Okay. Uh, your room or mine?”

“Whatever. Except our room has that chair with no arms. It might be easier for you to play guitar sitting there, instead of on the bed?”

“Isn’t that chair really uncomfortable?” Sam said, walking straight past the salad bar without stopping. “I mean, I’m fine with either. The chair sounds great. Just, if you want the bed instead, I can make that work.”

It turned out the evening was drizzly, anyway, so Finn didn’t feel so bad keeping Sam all to himself. Back in their cabin, however, Sam seemed restless, moving from one thing to another. Finn tried to give him space.

“You know, I think I’m going to go for a run,” Sam told him finally.

Finn raised an eyebrow as Sam stripped off his t-shirt. “In the rain?”

“Just a short one. It’ll make it easier for me to focus.” He backed toward the door in his undershirt. “I won’t be long.”

“You’re gonna get wet.” Finn said, but before he could try his argument for why Sam should sit down before he lost his nerve, Sam had vanished out of the door, his glasses abandoned on the side table. Finn stood by the door, watching Sam’s legs carry him around the lake trail until he was out of sight. Then he went through the bathroom into his and Sean’s room, dug his phone out of his jacket pocket, and dialed Puck’s number.

It went to voicemail once, but the second time Finn called, it clicked to life. “You have the worst timing, Hudson. I’m in the middle of something.” Puck sounded annoyed, but there was the sound of music playing softly in the background so he couldn’t be too busy, “Or, I mean, I’m about to be getting into something.”

“Dude, you could have let it go to—uh.” He laughed sheepishly. “Sorry. I’ll be quick. What’s a song you and I sing together that’s really good? I mean, really, really good. One that shows off a little.”

“How about...” Puck trailed off, and there was a noise in the background that sounded almost like a groan.

Let's talk about sex, baby Let's talk about you and me Let's talk about all the good things And the bad things that may be

“Not that,” Finn protested. “Dude, I’m not trying to get in anybody’s pants. What the hell. I’m talking good singing.”

“Why’re you singing to someone if you don’t want to get in their pants?” Puck scoffed. “Can I offer...”

Come out Virginia, don't let 'em wait You Catholic girls start much too late Aw but sooner or later it comes down to faith Oh I might as well be the one

Finn flung himself onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. “No, no, Billy Joel is your range, not mine. Something higher.”

“So much for being quick about it. Sounds like the rumors about you aren’t exactly accurate.” He could hear a scuffling noise, and shushing and snorts of muffled laughter.

“Dude, who’s there with you?” Finn said suspiciously.

“Oh, this big, handsome, burly right guard. Yeah, we’re going at it pretty hot and heavy right now.” Puck sounded almost bored. “And, oh, yeah, there’s Mr. Ryerson coming through the door.”

“You really know how to make everything gross,” Finn said, grinning. “Okay, well, if you can’t think of anything, I’m going to have to default to Journey.”

“Do that Steve Perry single, the one from Straight Talk.” Puck hummed the chorus, and Finn sat up. “Can I hang up on you now, or do you have more stupid questions?”

“No, I think I’m good. Have fun… whatever you’re doing.”

“Looks like I might be doing some singing, actually.” Puck sounded amused. He added, to whoever was there, “You’re serious? Right now?”

Finn laughed. “I’m out of here. Whoever she is, good luck.”

He had to look up the lyrics to the song on his phone, not because he hadn’t sung it eight thousand times, but because he was sure he had been singing some of them wrong for years. Somehow it seemed important to get the lyrics right when he was singing for somebody else. Not that he was singing to Sam, or anything like that.

Actually, now that he was reading the lyrics, Finn decided he might want to have second thoughts about singing this particular song. It wasn’t because it was a love song, but it was kind of sad, and not exactly upbeat. But it was too late to call Puck back, and he wasn’t going to pick something else now.

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs outside, and Finn sat up on the bed quickly, his phone almost bouncing on the mattress as it slipped from his hand. He had begun to swing his legs off, but the door opened with a very loud noise, and Sam stepped in, shaking out his hair.

“Paul wanted us to know that the hose for the sprinkler system is working again,” he said dryly, barely looking as he pulled at his undershirt that was soaked to his skin. “It came off and sprayed me, but he, very heroically...” he trailed off, his eyes finally falling on Finn who was resting back on his hands, his legs splayed wide. “Uh... are you... waiting for someone?”

“Me? No.” Finn straightened up, trying to figure out what to do with his hands. He rose to his feet, tripping over his shoes a little. “Who would I be… um. Can I get you, like, a towel or something?”

“I should get to the bathroom,” Sam gestured but his shoes squelched as he took a step, and Finn quickly shook his head.

“No way, you need to lose the shirt at least, man, before you get sick. You can borrow one of mine until you go next door.” He grabbed one of his big, comfy McKinley High athletics shirts from his drawer and held it out. “Just—sit there and take off your shoes. I’ll get you that towel.”

He ducked into the bathroom. The towels on the rack both smelled like feet, so he rummaged in the shelf above the sink until he found a clean one. It was a worn towel from Six Flags, the one with the picture of the roller coaster on it.

Finn brought it back into his room where Sam was sitting on the floor in a puddle, his soaking-wet undershirt in a pile next to one of his shoes. He was struggling to get the other one off. When Finn snickered, he shot him an exasperated look.

“It’s really hard to untie wet shoelaces,” he protested.

“Hey, I’m not saying anything,” Finn held up his hands with a grin.

He exchanged Sam’s wet undershirt for the dry towel, then took the shirt into the bathroom to drip dry. He couldn’t help but pause in the doorway, though, and glance back at Sam, who was contorting himself trying to get a better angle on the lace, until his foot was nearly over his head, as he got more and more frustrated.

“Here.” Finn knelt on the floor next to him, gesturing for Sam to put his foot back on the floor. “You’re just making it hard for yourself. Let me.”

Sam looked very unsure about this, but he let Finn tug at the heel of his shoe until it finally slid off his foot with a sloppy sound. It made them both snicker. When Finn presented him with the shoe, like it was a priceless gift, Sam laughed harder.

“Thanks.” Sam rolled his eyes. “For the towel, too. It’s been a pretty crappy evening so far. Maybe... I should just turn in.”

“You think it’s going to get any better if Aggie gets home and sees you’re asleep?” Finn joked lightly, “I bet he’d put your hand in warm water just on principle. Come on, why don’t we just... hang out. I’ve got this dumb book I’m supposed to read for my classes next year, I’m sure you could do some sketching or something, right?”

That made Sam brighten a little. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good.”

It didn’t take long for the two of them to get comfortable, but the separate beds felt like way too far away to Finn’s mind. He pulled the blanket off the bed, and made himself a little half-nest on the ground, his back to the drawers. Sam spread out on the mattress, not physically, but between the sketchpad, a small pile of comic books, and the guitar resting against the headboard, there wasn’t a lot of space there.

The book was very boring, but listening to the sound of Sam’s pencil skritching away on the paper was strangely relaxing.

It wasn’t until the third time that he lifted his hand to his nose, and Sam hummed in a mildly negative way, that he turned to look. Sam finished with a line, and then looked back towards Finn and froze. Finn offered a small smile, “You doing all right?”

“Yeah, I was just...” Sam glanced at the sketchbook on his lap and then back to Finn. “Art, you know?”

“Are you drawing me?” Finn couldn’t help but ask, his chest feeling strangely warm. Sam looked mildly horrified, but after a beat he slowly nodded. “Can I see?” Finn continued, and that got a sharp negative. Finn tilted his head. “Why not?”

“Because... it’s embarrassing.” Sam shrugged, “And private. And you were supposed to sing, and you didn’t, so I’m holding my art ransom.”

“Oh, yeah?” Finn felt his smile broaden. “Does that mean you would show me if I sang something?”

Sam glanced back at the sketchbook and then back to him, “It’s honestly not that good. I mean, I really want to hear you sing, but I don’t want you to be disappointed if you’re expecting the Mona Lisa or something.”

“Dude,” Finn said softly. “There is literally no way I would be disappointed by you, Sam. Ever.”

Read the rest of chapter 3 | Read the whole story on AO3

[thefactsofthematter]

may we have a Softe javid fic to heal us

so i have no idea when this ask was actually sent (probably months ago) but i did START this fic when i got it! then i forgot about the wip and only found it again the other day. so here it finally is!!!

javid; 3.2k; an au in which davey is a rich socialite in the 1850s and it’s heavily inspired by laurie and jo’s meet-cute in little women; not proofread in the slightest

-

Brooklyn, NY, 1856.

David Jacobs has never been one for these pretentious, formal parties.

Hours of polite smiling, shaking hands with stuffy old people, and gently declining young ladies' requests to dance with him, all while dressed up in a stiff tuxedo— it's hardly a way to spend an evening.

And yet here he is, standing in the corner and nursing a glass of champagne, because Sarah keeps getting them invited to these things and he's not about to let her go off to a party alone. The least he can do is make a good name for his parents, as their polite young socialite son who makes connections with family friends and doesn't get himself into trouble.

"David, darling!"

Here comes Katherine, one of David's best friends and the daughter of the family hosting. She's twirling over to him, clearly feeling just as bubbly as the champagne she's been drinking.

"Hello Miss Pulitzer," he replies, stifling a laugh as he lunges forward to catch her from tripping over her own skirts. "It seems you're having quite the night."

She hardly makes an effort to right herself, seeming content to rest on his arm for a moment.

"Oh, am I ever," she sighs. "I do love when we get to host a big party— it's a bit fun being the centre of attention. And hey, don't you dare Miss Pulitzer me. I can't stand it."

David chuckles as he helps her regain her balance. She lets go of his arm and smoothes out her skirts before tossing her hair and looking every bit ready to continue dancing.

"I know, I know. I'm only being polite," he laughs, though she slaps him playfully on the arm for it. "You look lovely tonight, by the way. Though I surely hope you're not about to ask me to dance, since you know what the answer will be."

She rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically.

"Someday, Jacobs. I'll get you on that dance floor eventually— but no, that's not why I've come to find you. I was hoping I could call in a favour."

David quirks an eyebrow as he sips his drink. Why Katherine might need a favour from him in a house full of servants that literally work to do whatever she needs, he's not sure.

"I suppose," he replies. "But Sarah had me do her a favour by curling her hair tonight, and now I've got dreadful little burns on my fingers, so I'm not in the most generous mood."

"Sarah looks wonderful tonight, so perhaps your burns were worth it," sighs Katherine, hardly making an effort to hide how lovesick she is. She takes his hand to inspect it, and then rolls her eyes. "That's barely anything, you big baby! Surely no one's ever taught you that beauty and pain go hand in hand."

"My shoes are teaching me that right now," he whines. "They're my favourite ones, but they pinch my toes something awful. Anyways... what favour do you need?"

Katherine lights up like she's just remembering she'd asked for a favour in the first place.

"Oh, right! Let's walk and talk for a moment, if I can't convince you to dance." She takes David's elbow and they start to wander through the crowd. They're both well aware of the stares they get: everyone is expecting them to court and eventually marry, and they both know they'll probably go along with it someday. "So... I invited a friend of mine tonight— someone I met at the newspaper— but he doesn't really know anyone else here. I thought since you normally keep to yourself, you could show him around! I really think you two could be great friends."

David almost doesn't catch the way she winks, following those last few words, making her implication clear. He hopes no one catches the way he instantly flushes bright red.

"That's not right, Kath," he hisses, under his breath. "You brought me a date? Is he..." He trails off and giggles a little before whispering in her ear. "Is he quite handsome?"

Katherine laughs out loud and bounces giddily on her toes. For someone who's likely to be his future wife, she's awfully excited at the idea of setting him up for romance.

"Oh, isn't he! You're going to love him." She drops her voice to a whisper. "And before you ask... I'm rather sure where his affections lie— I think you two will get along quite well."

David, rather flustered now, starts to fuss with his hair and tie without even realizing it— until Katherine reaches up and fixes them for him.

"You look dashing," she giggles. "He was nervous to come in here and not know what to do with himself, so he's waiting in the library for now. Somewhere nice and quiet for you two to... get acquainted."

David can feel the heat of his blush on his cheeks and wills desperately for it to go away as Katherine drags him out of the ballroom and down the hall. He skids to a halt as they approach the library, tugging on her arm.

"I'm not ready," he whispers. "I can't do this. You can't just surprise me with a date! Oh, what if he thinks I'm annoying, or I talk too much, or—"

Katherine cuts him off with a giggle and a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"You've got nothing to be worried about, my dear." She straightens his jacket and smiles fondly. "Jack is a sweetheart, and you'll be as charming as ever. Now come on, it's impolite to keep company waiting."

With that, she walks gracefully through the library doors, leaving David scrambling to catch up.

"I'm back!" she sing-songs as she enters. She grins and grabs David's arm, dragging him into view. "I found you a friend!"

His stomach does a backflip as soon as he lays eyes on Jack. He's gorgeous. He's the kind of effortlessly beautiful that Davey has always wished he could be, where it looks like he hardly pays any mind to his appearance but it all just magically works out in his favour. His hair is tousled just the right way and his cheeks are a little rosy under these dim library lights— it's all coming together in order to make David swoon.

"Jack, David," continues Kath, gesturing between them. "David, Jack. Get yourselves acquainted and then come back and join the party! Cheers, boys!"

And then she's off, subtly winking at David as she hurries out of the room.

"Well, hi there," says Jack, laughing a little at Kath's abrupt exit. He extends a hand to shake. "Jack Kelly, pleased to meet you."

David hopes the flush on his cheeks isn't obvious as he shakes Jack's hand and smiles.

"David Jacobs." They release the handshake and it almost seems like they might fall into awkward silence, but David practically goes to parties for a living— he can command some small-talk when he has to. "So... you're a friend of Katherine's from work? I think it's just wonderful that she's gotten so far with her writing."

This manages to get the ball rolling.

"Isn't it?" replies Jack with a grin. "I draw the pictures for lots of her pieces and boy can she write. She's a real... oh what was that word she said... a wordsmith! That's it!"

David can't help but laugh. There's something about Jack that intrigues him, but he can't quite put his finger on what. He seems different from most of the snooty socialite people he's used to hanging around with— even just the way he talks, he seems more real.

"So Katherine told me you might need a little introduction to this whole..." he trails off and waves a hand absentmindedly as he tries to find the right word, "party scene. You might be best to turn around and head back home, if I'm being honest— I find the whole thing a little tedious."

Jack cocks an eyebrow. Upon a closer look, he seems a little uncomfortable in his suit, like he's not sure how to carry himself. It's like he's scared he'll slip up and make a wrong move, or something.

"Isn't it just wine, fancy food, and dancing? Sounds like it can't be all that bad," he chuckles, and then he gently takes David's hands in his own. Jack's hands are calloused and a little stained— likely ink, since he'd mentioned he draws for a living— and they make an almost poetic contrast to David's pale ones. "How 'bout you give me a dancing lesson right now?"

David's heart nearly beats right out of his chest. Oh god. This is a lot to handle. That was incredibly forward, and he sure hopes it means what he thinks it means. Are they flirting right now?

"I— I'm not much of a dancer," he laughs, sheepishly. "I mostly just stand around and watch. I tend to be a bit of a wallflower when it comes to crowds."

Jack starts to sway absentmindedly while still holding David's hands. They can still hear the music from the ballroom, and he seems to have the musicality to at least move along with the notes.

"Surely the girls are all over you," he chuckles. "You just break their hearts and won't even give 'em a dance?"

David blushes even harder, if that's possible. He remembers what Kath had said earlier— that she was quite sure Jack felt similarly about his attraction— so he laughs softly and decides to test the waters.

"I'm not all that interested in ladies," he says, and it takes a fair bit of courage to force those words out. Sarah and Katherine are the only ones who know about his... disinterest, simply because they're in the same boat. It's not something that feels like it should be talked about. This statement was at least general enough that he could brush it off, say it's because he's too focused on his studies.

There's a moment of knowing eye contact between them, during which David lets out a sigh of relief. They both know why Katherine introduced them. They're still holding hands, standing awfully close together, and David's scared Jack might be able to hear his heart pounding.

"Me neither," whispers Jack, after a long second of silence. He's not subtle with the way his gaze flicks to David's lips and then back up. He suddenly seems to notice how forward he's being, and he practically jumps backwards, before brushing his hands on his pants and looking up with a sheepish smile. "So, what if we don't even go into the ball? If neither one of us wants to dance with the girls, we can just dance in here, by ourselves!"

David's not sure he's ever wanted anything more. That sounds incredible. He freezes up in crowds, but if it's just the two of them, he might actually be able to remember some of the dances that he's watched so many times before.

"I'd like that," says David, his voice remarkably soft and his heart fluttering. "May I have this dance, Mr. Kelly?"

"I'd be honoured, Mr. Jacobs. You're gonna have to help me out though, I've got two left feet."

Slowly, hesitantly, they waltz their way around the library, constantly giggling as they trip over their own feet. Neither one of them was lying about not knowing how to dance— they're a mess— but it's delightful just moving along together with no one around to see.

Eventually, they start to make up their own moves, flailing and twirling their bodies however they want to, and David has never had so much fun. They jump and bounce around to the upbeat songs, laughing all the while like a couple of rowdy children. It's wonderful.

After several songs of dancing, they find themselves flopping onto the little couch to give their feet a rest. They're both still laughing as they try to catch their breath— Jack loosens his tie and unbuttons his jacket, which is certainly improper but also incredibly attractive.

"Thanks for that, Davey," sighs Jack, and David's heart practically leaps into his throat at the nickname. "Much better than dancing with any girls, in my opinion."

Davey laughs and drops his gaze to the floor.

"I can't help but agree," he says, still a little on-edge. "You make wonderful company."

There's a moment of quiet, filled only by the crackle of the fireplace. Davey has an overwhelming urge to take Jack's hand in his own, but he's far too nervous.

"Tell me something about yourself," Jack finally says, turning to Davey with a smile. "I'd like to get to know you better. What do you do for fun?"

Davey almost laughs. He's not sure of the last time he did anything that was purely for his own enjoyment. His life is about pleasing other people— his family, his tutors, and all the other wealthy folk that they try so hard to impress.

"Well, I like to read," he eventually settles on. He folds his hands nervously in his lap. "When I was living in France with my uncle last year, he had this grand library. I would sometimes sneak in there and read the fantasy novels— as silly as that is. It's awfully embarrassing, but I rather enjoyed it."

"Now that's not embarrassing," says Jack, still smiling, charming Davey even further with every moment that passes. "Who doesn't love a good story? And, wow— living in France? Do you speak the language, then?"

Davey hates how hard he's blushing right now. He's never had someone be so genuinely interested in what he has to say— it's a new and almost alarming experience.

His time in France was a very lonely experience: stuck in his elderly uncle's massive home, far away from his dear brother and sister, all because his parents had decided he needed to learn to be more cultured. All he really learned was how to keep himself entertained during long days with nothing to do— but at least it's something interesting to talk about now, he supposes.

"Bien oui," he responds, revelling in the way Jack's eyes light up in excitement. "C'est ma langue préférée. Tu sais... y'en a des gens qui disent que c'est la langue d'amour. J'avais mes doutes, mais peut-être je les crois, maintenant."

Jack clearly doesn't understand a word of it, but he seems thoroughly impressed.

"Wow..." he says, almost as if he's star-struck. "That's incredible."

Davey laughs softly, a little embarrassed at being the center of attention.

"Enough about me," he chuckles, desperate to get out of the spotlight. "You said you're an artist— is it something you've always been interested in?"

Jack looks a little caught off-guard to suddenly become the topic of conversation, but he recovers quickly.

"Oh, for sure. I started drawing as soon as I could hold a pencil." He gestures with his hands as he talks, which is entirely endearing. "I just do little cartoons in the paper, as far as right now, and I paint sets for a theatre in the Bowery when I have time, but I'd love to sell a painting of my own someday."

"I'd love to buy one," says Davey, finally mustering up the courage to place a hand on top of Jack's. "I'm sure they're beautiful."

It's Jack's turn to blush, which is oddly satisfying for Davey. They're holding hands on the little couch in this dimly lit library— Davey feels like one of the characters from the novels he's read, as this whole situation seems too good to be true.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Jack asks, after a moment. He's got a mischievous grin on his face, but he looks a little nervous as well. "You can't tell anyone else."

Davey smiles right back.

"Of course you can," he says, brushing his thumb gently on the back of Jack's hand. "I've been told I'm a wonderful listener— at least my sister thinks so."

Jack laughs softly and looks down at his lap. It almost seems as if he's trying to build up the courage to tell his secret.

"Okay..." he sighs, and then he continues in a whisper. "I'm not supposed to be here."

Davey can't help but frown in confusion.

"What on earth do you mean? Katherine invited you, and she's the hostess! Surely that means she wanted you to come."

Jack laughs nervously again. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"No, I mean... I've never been to a fancy party like this, no less in a house this nice. This ain't even my suit— I'm borrowing from Kath's brother. I've never owned no suit this dapper. I'm, uh... not like the rest of you, if that makes sense."

Oh. That's where it clicks for Davey. It suddenly makes sense why Jack talks a little differently, and why he'd been so impressed by Davey's mention of a trip to France— not everyone is born into the kind of wealth that makes that possible. That's why he'd waited in the library rather than come into the party; he probably wouldn't know what to do with himself.

It's not like Davey only hangs out with people of his own social status, but he has to admit that he doesn't know many people like Jack. Most of his friends— the very few that he has— are from boarding school, or these ridiculously uptight social events, although he's always felt like he doesn't quite fit in with them. He's always wished to be more... normal.

"Ah, well that's quite alright," Davey replies, since he's truly not sure what kind of response Jack was expecting. "It's not all it's cracked up to be, if I'm being honest. Forgive my language, but I do tire of hanging around with all these blue-bloods."

If only his father could hear him use a silly word like that. It's a funny term he'd learned to refer to wealthy people, and he'd probably get a smack around the back of the head for saying it in front of his family. Jack, however, just laughs.

"You're awful funny, Jacobs," he says. "And nicer than most rich folks, too. I can see why Kath wanted to introduce us."

Once again, Davey blushes. He curses his own pale complexion, because even in the low lighting, Jack has clearly noticed.

"She's quite the matchmaker," he replies with a chuckle. "Two of our friends are married now, thanks to her."

Jack leans in a little closer, and Davey can feel his heartbeat in his throat.

"Is that so?" he asks. "She must know what she's doing, then."

He's looking at Davey's lips again, and they go quiet for a moment. This doesn't even feel real— Davey almost has the urge to pinch himself and check if he's dreaming.

He takes a deep breath, as subtly as possible.

"I'd like it if you kissed me," he whispers, finally breaking the tension.

"I'd like that too," Jack replies, and then he oh-so carefully presses their lips together.

It's everything Davey could've hoped for.

They don't even notice Katherine and Sarah peeking in to check on them— nothing could possibly break this magical moment. It feels like they're exactly where the universe intended for them to be.

- 

@landlessbud @i-got-personality @alovelymoonbeam @penzyroamin @graceful-popcorn @auspicioustarantula @backgroundensemble @magimerlyn @myheartissetinmotion @papesdontsellthemselves @jack-kellys @big-potato-asshole @stop-the-presses @starrysence @wilde-guess @never-fear-brooklyns-here @fandom-fangirl07 @theresagoodchanceicouldfly @dying-poet @asphodelnerd @agressive-cinnamon-roll @daveysexual @soft-colors-and-such @move-your-elbow

[generaldisdainn]

Mandatory Relaxation

Happy Kristanna Christmas in July @somecallmejohn !! I’m your secret santa! :D Your suggestion was Kristoff being a goofball and Kristoff and Anna spending the day together in canonverse, so that’s what I tried to do!!! There isn’t too much plot- just a sweet snapshot of their day spent together. :-) I hope you like it!!! <3 <3 <3 

Rating: K

Pairing: Kristanna 

Word count: 2780

Kristoff hated watching Anna spread herself too thin. He could always see it coming- the frantic energy, the tired eyes- it all pointed to her over-expending herself.

He knew that assuming the role of queen meant more responsibilities and less free time for the two of them to spend together, but he felt that lately she hardly had any time at all. She was a brilliant queen, and Kristoff watched the way she ruled with reverence every day. He whispered how proud he was of her into her skin each night as they cuddled close. But lately she had seemed so tired. She was doing too much all out of the goodness of her heart. A neighboring kingdom had been dealing with a food shortage, and Anna was working diligently to figure out a way to allocate food and supplies to this struggling kingdom while still making sure that her people were taken care of. It was impossible to make everyone happy in situations like these, and he knew how much she hated disappointing people. 

She had finally come to a consensus with her advisors and the officials of the struggling kingdom, but the whole ordeal had left her tired and spent. He could tell in the way she carried herself, in the soft shyness with which her usually bright smile now tugged at her lips. It was why Kristoff decided to take it upon himself to help her relax. 

***

Anna awoke in the morning to heavy eyelids and a sore back. Despite the general aches and pains, she noticed that she felt surprisingly rested. Her mind was agile and ready for the day. It was refreshing. She opened her eyes and stretched against the morning sun, noting the way in which it crawled higher up the wall than what she was accustomed to seeing. She jolted at the sudden realization. There was way too much sun for it to be the time she usually awoke. 

“Kristoff, what time is it?” She glanced around the room in frantic search of her fiance. The bed next to her was empty. “Kristoff?”

Kristoff emerged from the bathroom and made his way over to the bed, a soft smile splayed across his face. “Morning, beautiful.” He reached over to embrace her, lips pursed to place a gentle kiss on her temple, but Anna pulled away, tugging at the covers and moving to get out of bed. 

“What time is it?”

“Sometime around noon,” he admitted sheepishly. 

“What?! Kristoff, I had a meeting at 8 this morning! Kai was supposed to wake me up hours ago!” 

Kristoff placed a hand on her arm to still her sudden movements. “Hey, easy feisty-pants. I called off your meetings today.”

“You what?”

Kristoff took a breath. “Anna, you’re exhausted. You haven’t had a break in weeks. You’ve been doing so much, and you know how proud I am of you, but you really need a break.”

Anna hummed thoughtfully. The anxious stutter of her breath calmed as she looked at the soft brown of her fiance’s eyes. She realized she suddenly had nowhere she needed to be. Relief washed over for a moment as she relaxed into his touch.

“Besides, I’ve missed spending time with you,” Kristoff added. He placed his lips to hers and she smiled against him. She loved the feel of him in the mornings- scratchy stubble and soft lips bringing her eagerly into her day.

“So everything’s cancelled for today?” she finally asked after they pulled apart.

Kristoff nodded.

“And no one’s upset?”

“No, Anna, not at all. Kai and Gerda thought that this was a great idea and were actually really excited. And they said everyone they talked to understood.”

Anna nodded slowly. “So we have a free day together then?”

Kristoff smiled and took her hand. “It’s all ours.”

***

They picked fruit from the garden for a late breakfast, letting the juice from nectarines run down their chins and kissing the remnants of the fruit off of each other’s lips. 

“We should do a picnic for lunch,” Anna suggested.

Kristoff nodded in agreement.

“I can have the cooks make something for us,” she said.

“I have a better idea.”

Kristoff led Anna into the town after grabbing a picnic basket and money from the castle. He intended to walk through town with her and purchase food for their picnic from the townspeople. He held Anna’s hand as they walked down the castle steps. He guided her, holding her as she held up the flowing fabric of her skirts to walk into the square. She was stunning. Her hair glowed in the warm rays of the sun.

He brought her to stands and carts where people sold fresh foods and hand-crafted items. Kristoff bought food for their basket as they went. He tipped each person generously. One of his favorite things about being a part of the royal family now was having the means to tip so generously. When he was a young ice harvester, he never had enough to tip at all, let alone well. He always wished he could give more, and now he had the means to do so.

Anna stopped and spoke to people in the bustling square as they made their way through the crowds. People were excited to see the two of them. Anna was adored for her endless grace and kindness, and Kristoff had even become a town favorite with the kids as he let them take turns riding on Sven and often told them stories about adventures in the mountains and tales of large ice golems in far away ice palaces. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve been out here. I forgot how much I love it,” she said to him as she swung her arm with his. They had made their way out of the main center and walked along the water at the pier, boats lining the shore with pride. Anna walked on a small ledge right next to the water and he held her as she balanced. “Look at how happy everyone is.” Anna sighed as she looked towards a group of kids who were playing some sort of made up game. They looked so happy, so carefree.

“You know, you play a big part in that.”

“In what?” 

“In helping make everyone feel so happy here.”

Anna blushed. “So do you, you know. I don’t think I tell you enough, but I’m so proud of all that you’ve done. I know you don’t always like the whole royal thing,” Anna straightened his collar and ruffled his hair. “But you’ve brought so much to Arendelle.” He truly had. She meant every word of what she said. He was the driving force behind building Arendelle’s first orphanage. He lead ice harvesting trips and taught the kids how to care for the reindeer. 

Kristoff rubbed a hand at the back of his neck and fumbled with something to say. He still found himself getting tongue-tied when he received such genuine compliments. He was always caught off guard by the way his heart would take flight at her kindness.

His fumbling was interrupted by the kids who were now barrelling towards the two of them.

“Kristoff! Queen Anna!” the youngest of the group cried. 

“Hey, guys!” Kristoff smiled. He immediately recognized the group from hanging around the stables. He knew the youngest boy as Bjorn- the one who was always asking for a ride on Sven.

“Kristoff, I’ve been practicing the song you taught me!” Bjorn began humming a gentle tune. 

Anna gave Kristoff’s hand a squeeze.

“I can never get that last part,” Bjorn grumbled as he faltered on the last section of the tune. “Can you sing it for me?” The other two boys lit up at the suggestion.

“Maybe some other time,” Kristoff offered. “I don’t have my lute on me.”

Bjorn gasped and scampered off suddenly.

“You’ve been singing to them?”

Kristoff shrugged. “Sometimes in the stables. They like to help me out in there.”

She had heard him sing many times, but she didn’t know he’d been singing to the kids in the town. Her heart swelled. 

Bjorn returned with a lute in his small hands. “It’s my dad’s! Please Kristoff?” The other two boys clapped excitedly and gathered around Kristoff as Bjorn pushed the lute into his hands. Anna smiled and sat down next to the boys. 

“Alright Kristoff, you heard the boys. You have to play. Queen’s orders.”

Bjorn giggled at that. 

Kristoff smiled and shook his head at his fiance. She was sitting like an eager child, legs criss-crossed and hands propping her head as she gazed up at him with eager eyes. 

He began strumming softly. Anna could tell he was a bit nervous. She knew he was more used to playing for their little family or in the stables, but not in the open like this. But it was just her and the boys on the pier. She could see him start to ease into the song.

Anna watched as he sang. He had a beautiful voice, something she always found herself learning all over again whenever he used it in song. He sang about a beautiful girl who rescued her sister and then saved a forest, a girl who was so deeply loved by a wandering man of the mountains.

***

They made it out to a secluded spot in the woods together. The trees dappled the ground with spots of sun and shade. It wasn’t too far off the beaten path. It was within walking distance of the town, but it was still off the trail just enough so that they were alone amidst the birds and the whispering of the wind through the trees. They shared breads and cheeses and stories and dreams. Anna watched Kristoff talk. She was in awe of the way his face glowed in the spotted sunlight, his hair shining in neat tresses.

“Here- tilt your head back like this, but make sure to keep your eye on my hand.” Kristoff instructed Anna as he posed to throw a grape into her mouth. He had offered to teach her after he had shown off his own ability in catching them. “Ready?”

“This is stupid,” Anna replied, although she stayed in formation.

Kristoff geared up and threw a handful of five, hitting her in multiple different places on her face. “You didn’t catch a single one!” 

“You cheated!” Anna tackled Kristoff to the ground in mock anger. She collapsed on top of him with bubbling laughter and he held her close, breathing her in and feeling her warmth on top of him. 

They laid like that for a moment, breathing and laughing together. Kristoff looked up at the tree-covered clearing and let out an easy breath. He felt so at home.

Anna clambered off of him and patted her lap. “Lay down- I want to play with your hair.”

“Hmmm you’re going to have to pay money for that. My hair doesn’t come for free you know.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Just get over here, silly.”

Kristoff laughed and laid his head in Anna’s lap. She strung flowers in his hair. They were full of good food and laughter. He smiled contently as she ran her fingers through his locks, putting another flower carefully into place.

“Sing for me?”

“You sound just like those kids,” he teased.

“Can you blame me? You have a beautiful voice.”

Kristoff opened his eyes and looked up at her, her face softening into a smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She placed a hand on his cheek and he leaned into it. It was soft and small and warm. 

He hummed a gentle tune as she worked.

***

“You know, we’ve been so busy we’ve hardly gotten to talk about our wedding,” Kristoff mentioned as they walked back to the town from their picnic. 

“I think we should have two weddings.”

“Two?”

“Well, a more traditional one of course for all of the stuffy dignitaries and ambassadors, but also a special one with your family.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Kristoff, of course. And it wouldn’t be just for you. I want that too. And I know the Northuldra would come to that one.” Kristoff thought about Anna professing her love for him underneath a night sky, draped in a mossy cape. His heart swelled. “Do you remember when your family tried to marry us after we had just met?”

Kristoff laughed at the memory. It was the first time he really felt him start to fall for her, her radiant smile illuminated by the gems on her headdress and cape. “That was so embarrassing.”

“I thought you were cute. I know we hadn’t known each other for that long and that I was technically engaged to Hans at the time,” they both made a face at the mention of her ex-fiance, “but I think that was when I first started liking you.”

“You mean you like-like me?” Kristoff asked in mock surprise. 

Anna stuck her tongue out at him. “Like you didn’t like-like me then too. You came back for me in the middle of a snow storm.”

Kristoff’s eyes got serious for a moment. He reached out to take her hands in his and held them there, stopping their walk to look at her with sincerity. “I would do that all over again for you. I never want to lose you.”

“I know, Kristoff. I’m right here. I love you.”

“I love you too.” They shared a look in mutual understanding. It wasn’t something they spoke about often, but they both still dealt with the fears of losing each other after enduring life-threatening adventures. Every once in a while they needed to remind each other that they were there- that they were okay. 

“So two weddings, huh?” They began walking again. He looked down at her with a smirk.

“Yup! Is that too much pressure for you? Are you thinking about pulling out now?” she challenged, a playful gleam in her eyes.

He knew she was joking, but he couldn’t help but answer with sincerity. “Never.”

***

Anna read before bed that night for the first time in weeks. What used to be a nightly ritual had become something of a broken habit that she now hoped to get back into. 

Kristoff came out of the bathroom and approached the bed much like he had that morning, arms outstretched and leaning towards his fiance, but this time, she didn’t pull away. She closed her book and nestled into his arms, leaning against the wide expanse of his chest. It was still early in the evening. Usually she would be coming in from a long day of work and head straight to bed, but tonight they felt as though they had all the time in the world. She felt relaxed and at peace as he ran his fingers through her hair. She had taken it out of its braids and it fell down her back in gentle waves.

“Thank you, Kristoff.”

“For what?”

“For everything. For today. I really needed this.” She felt his lips on the top of her head, felt him nestle into her hair and inhale deeply. “I’m going to do this more often.”

“Like take days off?”

Anna nodded. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’m right here. And whenever you need another day off just let me know. I’ll beat up anyone who tries to meet with you.”

Anna snorted in laughter. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Imagine you punching a dignitary,” Anna said with a chortle after a moment of silence passed between them. Kristoff laughed alongside her at the thought. 

They fell asleep that night in each other’s arms, sleeping peacefully not because their day was filled with meetings and large decisions, but because their day was spent with laughter and sunlight and music.

Anna awoke that next morning with no aches or pains, no groggy feeling in her head or weights on her eyelids. She awoke to Kai like usual, but for the first time in a while, she took an extra moment to snuggle up to her fiance, to plant a gentle kiss to his temple, and breath him in before going about her day.

[labyrinth-runner]

Hauntober Day 6: Fog

Soooo, I’ve got a two for one deal today. Above the cut is story one. Below the cut is story two.

Summary One: When the Captain hears a mysterious voice, he throws caution to the wind to investigate it.

Characters: Pirate!Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala

Warnings: None

Words Count: ~800

Summary Two: When your Captain hears a strange voice in the fog, you do everything in your power to bring him back to you.

Characters: Pirate!Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: None? Siren trouble?

Word Count: ~900

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“’Tis odd,” Obi-Wan murmured to his first mate, Anakin Skywalker.

“There shouldn’t be fog this far out, Cap’n,” Anakin admitted.

Faintly, Obi-Wan heard a tune being carried through the fog, turning to look at where he felt the source would be. “Do you hear that, lad?”

Anakin closed his eyes to listen for a moment and then shook his head, “No, Cap’n. I don’t hear anything.”

“There’s a voice. There’s someone out there,” Captain Obi-Wan said emphatically, “We’ve got to rescue them.”

“We’re pirates, not the navy!” Anakin protested.

“We help those in need,” Obi-Wan said pointedly. “If there’s a lass out in that fog, then it seems to reckon that she’d be in need.”

“Aye,” Anakin sighed, “I suppose that would be the logical conclusion.”

“Bring her around,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing to the wheel. “We’re going in.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Anakin murmured, turning the wheel hard to port, banking them straight into the fog. He cast a glance at his Captain, but pressed forward. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and listened, directing Anakin to follow the voice as it grew steadily louder. 

“Captain, I don’t enjoy sailing around in conditions that keep me from seeing,” Anakin protested.

“We’re getting close,” Obi-Wan replied, “I can feel it. Drop the anchor and ready the row boat.”

“You can’t possibly be thinking about going out there,” Anakin said incredulously.

“Lad, you’re right. We shouldn’t be sailing around in a fog.”

“Well, putting yourself in a row boat and goin’ out there isn’t a good idea either!”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said pleadingly. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then lower the boat,” he replied.

Anakin shook his head, “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Obi-Wan clamored over the edge of the ship and down into the boat, following the voice into the fog until he couldn’t see the ship anymore. He swallowed, rowing further when the fog started to break up and a small island came into view.

“There’s nothing on the map out in these waters,” he murmured to himself, pulling the boat up near the shore. “Where the hell am I?”

“How did you get here?” a voice gasped.

Obi-Wan turned to see a woman- nay, a mermaid- sitting on a rock near the shore.

“I followed the voice,” he replied, rowing towards her. “Have you heard anyone singing out here?”

“The only one singing out here is me,” she admitted. “I was separated from my pod during a storm and was hoping they’d hear me and find me.”

“You’re alone here?” he asked softly, resting his oars as his rowboat came up astride her perch.

“Yes. There’s no one on the island. I checked there first,” she told him. “I couldn’t find my way out of the fog. I’d end up right back at the island after a while.”

“It seems like you could use a lift, lass,” he murmured, looking her up and down. Her scales were pink and yellow, and they shimmered in the sun. In a word, she was beautiful. 

“You’d take me out of here?” she asked.

“Lass, I came here for you, I’m not leaving without you,” he blushed.

“Padmé. My name is Padmé,” she grinned.

“My name is Obi-Wan, but my crew call me Captain,” he winked.

“Well, Obi-Wan, I appreciate your help, but I will need assistance,” she replied, gesturing to her tail. “When it’s dry, I’ll get legs, but I’m very damp currently.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan replied, reaching out to wrap his arms around her waist. He pulled her into his rowboat, landing her on his lap as that was the only way they would both fit. He wrapped his arms around her to pick up his oars and paddle them back to the boat.

“How do you know we won’t both get stuck now?” she asked softly.

“Lass, I’m an excellent navigator. Not to mention, I have faith in my first mate.”

Anakin paced the ship back and forth, feeling antsy. “He should’ve returned by now. I hope he hasn’t gone too far.” He looked around the deck, eyes falling on the dinner bell. “Well, he may not be able to see the ship, but he’ll certainly be able to hear me.”

Obi-Wan smirked as he heard the faint bell in the distance, steering them towards the sound. It wasn’t long until the boat was in sight once more and they were being pulled aboard.

“You weren’t kidding about there being a woman out there,” Anakin murmured in awe as Padmé stepped off the rowboat and onto the ship in nothing but the Captain’s jacket.

“I have a good sense for these things,” Obi-Wan winked, leading her back to his quarters. He stopped with his hand on the door, “However, I’d prefer not to have to sail through soup as thick as this ever again. Take us out of here, lad.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Anakin winked, steering them home.

You woke with a start. The water was eerily calm, but the air coming in from the windows was enough to send a shiver down your spine. Sitting up, you looked over at the man asleep in bed next to you. He could sleep through a hurricane. Softly, you slipped out of bed and went to close the windows in the cabin, noticing a fog that had rolled in. Strange, you thought. The sky didn’t show any signs of this before you went to bed. As you closed the window, faintly you made out a voice in the distance. You swallowed the unease and returned to bed, tucking yourself into your captain’s side, trying to fall back asleep.

When you woke again in the morning, the ship was shrouded in darkness and the voices were louder. You’d heard stories of songs at sea, but you remembered they never ended well. Wrapping your shawl around your shoulders, you went out onto the deck to see what was happening. It was quiet. Too quiet. The sails were furled, and everyone was standing at the bow of the ship looking out. 

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” you asked frantically as you pushed your way to the front. Everyone looked through you, not at you, as you passed. Breaking to the front of the group, you saw Obi-Wan staring out as if in a trance. Your eyes squinted with the strain of the fog to see what he was fixated on. Your eyes widened as you saw a woman in the water, staring at him. Her blonde hair stood out against the foggy backdrop. When she caught sight of you, you could have sworn that she snarled. The music from last night started again, and you realized it was her. She was singing. Shuffling sounds could be heard behind you as the crew started to shuffle off towards the plank. However, the Captain didn’t move.

“Siren,” you murmured in horror. Your eyes snapped up to the crew. You’d have to save them all. Frantically, you looked across the deck, grabbing some rope that was tied to the main mast before running to encircle them all, tying them to the mast with the tightest knot you could. You heard a splash, looking over to see that the Captain was no longer where you had left him.

“Obi!” you screamed, grabbing a knife off of Anakin’s belt and jumping in after him. Your eyes stung against the salt water as you searched for him under the eerily calm surface. The glint of his wedding ring caught your eyes as you watched the siren pulling him further and further down. With no time to lose, you pumped your legs as fast as you could to catch up with them, reaching out your arm to loop around his waist. In a fight of strength, you and the siren fought over him, but you were not going to lose your husband to a fish. Pulling him against your chest, you slashed out at her with the knife, slicing her arm.  Her eyes widened in pain and she loosened her grip. Taking advantage of her distraction, you pushed him towards the surface, blowing air into his mouth before shoving him ahead of you. Your lips against his sparked recognition and his eyes widened taking in the current situation. You didn’t give him time to argue, propelling him to the surface. You pumped your legs, trying to follow when you felt a hand wrap around your ankle, pulling you down. A scowl crossed your face and you kicked her, dislodging her from your leg. She hovered in the water for a moment before swimming off, deciding that the two of you weren’t worth it.

You broke through the surface, gasping for air. Strong arms wrapped around you as you tried to catch your breath. The two of you were lifted into the air by the crew, having used their own weapons to free themselves once the spell was broken. 

Feeling the hard deck under your body once more caused the adrenaline to wear off, sending you into a fit of sobs.

“Lass, shhhh,” Obi-Wan murmured, holding you tight against his chest, “Lass, we’re okay. We’re all okay because of you.”

“I was so afraid I was going to lose you,” you cried into his shoulder.

“You didn’t, though. Because of your quick thinking and bravery, no one was hurt,” Obi-Wan reassured, swiping the salty tears off your cheeks. He picked you up, preparing to carry you back to the chambers to dry off. “Anakin, get us out of this fog.”

“Yes, Captain,” he replied before quickly going to sail away.

Obi-Wan kissed your forehead, setting you down in your room. “I’m going to go talk with the crew about a new course, because we cannot go back through siren country. Change and dry off before you get sick.”

You nodded, changing into your clothes and hanging your nightgown up to dry. Then, you went back out on deck, blinded by the sun. When your eyes adjusted, the crew was standing outside the door, waiting for you.

“Three cheers for the lass!” Anakin grinned. “Hip hip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hip Hip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hip hip!”

Your eyes lock onto your husband’s, a wide grin on his face. “Hooray!”

Obi-Wan came over, wrapping an arm around you and leading you to the front of the ship to stare off into distance. Sirens, you thought. If you never saw another one again, it would be too soon.

[fruit-teeth]

Matters of Time and Fate (9)

She was always hurting. She was always sick, in pain, with every part of her body screaming in agony. Her head throbbed, and her eyes burned with tears so often she preferred to keep them closed, submerging her in darkness. What made it even worse was that she was all alone – somehow, pain seemed more bearable when someone else was there, comforting her. But, at this moment, there was no one.

Until the door opened.

Young Helen lifted her head in the direction of the sound, still quivering from pain. She knew it was her father before she even saw him, and when he sat down on her bed beside her, she reached for him right away, whimpering.

“Shh,” he hushed her softly, pulling her into his arms. He was not a very big or strong man, but when he held her, he was the strongest man she knew.

Helen melted into his embrace as he stroked her hair, her sobs slowly fading off. He brushed the tears away from her cheeks, soothing her with, “I told you I would come back, my angelfish…I know it hurts,”

Her father eventually laid down next to her, holding her close and pulling the blanket over her shoulders. She curled towards his warmth, breathing in his scent and closing her eyes.

“My little darling,” he crooned, touching her feverish forehead before planting a kiss there. “I’m so sorry you have to go through this…if I could take on the pain for you, I would,”

Though Helen was still in pain, having her father there was the best comfort she could have asked for. As she began to drift off to sleep in his arms, she could hear him singing softly to her:

“O bonny Portmore, I am sorry to see Such a woeful destruction of your ornament tree. For it stood on your shore for many's the long day Till the long boats from Antrim came to float it away.

O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand, And the more I think on you the more I think long. If I had you now as I had once before, All the lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore…”

“Helen? Hey, are you okay?”

Helen opened her eyes, finding herself back in the present. She wasn’t a child anymore and her father was gone, long gone. She sat up slowly, blinking. “Who is it? Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” Miss Pauling sat down on the edge of the bed, shifting closer to Helen. “It’s almost noon, you’ve been in bed a really long time…are you all right?”

“Noon? Oh, my goodness…” Helen shook a hand through her hair, fluffing it up. “I had no idea. What are the men doing?”

“Not much for now, a couple of them went shopping,” Miss Pauling replied. “The others are wondering if you have any jobs for them today,”

“Well,” Helen got up out of bed, going to the mirror to fix her hair. “At the moment? There is not much they have to worry about, but if Saxton Hale still cannot arrive for the signing, we will send the mercenaries to collect him,” she turned around to look at Pauling again. “Has Hale called at all?”

“Not yet,” Pauling sighed. “I tried calling him, but there was no answer. I hope he and Bidwell are okay…”

“Hm,” Helen pursed her lips together. “We’ll just have to wait for now…though, rest assured, the signing must happen,”

“Right, yeah,” Pauling nodded. After a moment, she asked, “Hey, Helen? About Olivia – are you gonna tell her about…you know…”

“Why should I?” Helen’s voice lowered as she shrugged her bathrobe on. “She doesn’t have to know,”

“I know she doesn’t have to,” Pauling assured, though she stood up, gently brushing her hand against Helen’s shoulder. “But wouldn’t it be good for her to know, at some point? Maybe not now, but in the future?”

Helen went quiet again, and she grasped Pauling’s hand in her own, just for a few seconds. “We will see,” she cleared her throat, going to the door. “I need coffee,”

“Okay,” Pauling watched her open the door and head out into the hallway, before she followed after her.

Yet when Helen was downstairs, Spy stepped out from behind the corner and stopped Miss Pauling, pulling her towards him a little. “Miss Pauling, may I speak with you?

“Oh,” Pauling blinked, turning to face him. “Yeah, sure. What do you need?”

Spy took a breath. “Well, I meant to inquire about Olivia. Tell me: what is going to happen with her once the signing takes place?”

Pauling gave a little half-shrug. “Helen’s still working that out, but believe me, Olivia’s gonna be okay,”

“I see…” Spy didn’t quite believe her, but he continued to press. “Is Helen planning on adopting her? Or some such thing?”

Miss Pauling bristled visibly at that, though she maintained her composure. “Why do you wanna know?”

“I’m asking because I’m concerned for Olivia,” Spy dropped the volume of his voice, making sure only Miss Pauling could hear. “Now, you know I’m not one to jump to conclusions, but Helen has never been the parent type from what I can tell. Why would she be interested in adopting her?”

Miss Pauling took a step back, very annoyed but also somewhat anxious at this point. “Spy, look—that isn’t important right now. All you need to know is that we’re gonna handle everything and Olivia is gonna be fine, okay?”

As Spy looked at her, he could see in her eyes that she was hiding something. Though what, he didn’t know. He tried again. “You don’t have to defend her, you know,”

Pauling groaned, rubbing her temples. “Spy…Spy, I’m not—”

Just then, the downstairs phone began ringing, and Pauling perked back up. “Oh, that must be Saxton! Be right back,”

As she hurried downstairs to the phone, Spy watched her go, feeling uneasy and frustrated. He had to find some way to crack her, some way to get her to admit to what was going on…although she was so loyal to Helen, it seemed unlikely. However, Spy knew from his life experiences that even the toughest people have weak spots that will get them to reveal information of any kind, and with Miss Pauling, he knew it would be hard but he would find a weak spot in her shell. For Olivia’s sake, not for his.

At the same time, Olivia had wandered away from Scout at the store when he became distracted by a rack of sport equipment, and though she only went a few feet she soon discovered the toy section.

Her father had always discouraged her from buying toys, but she had never really been interested in them anyhow. Yet as she approached the shelf of stuffed animals, she suddenly realized that she did want one. A voice in her mind told her that they were ‘infantile’ things, as her father would always tell her, and she didn’t need one, though she pushed that back and walked right up to look through the stuffed animals.

At first, she didn’t understand what the appeal to them was. They were just animals made from fabric, there wasn’t anything terribly special or interesting about them. But then she touched one – it was so soft, softer than anything she’d touched, and it had a light yet pleasing weight to it. The animal in question was a little black cat with a blue ribbon around its neck, and she picked it up to get a better look at it.

The cat was very simple-looking, but its eyes were a bright shade of blue. Olivia smiled a little, enjoying the appearance, and she suddenly felt very drawn to the little cat. Yet it was right then that someone approached her.

“Those are nice toys,” a man’s voice said, and Olivia turned around in surprise.

There stood an older man, tall yet slightly hunched over with a thin scar crossing his forehead. Olivia didn’t recognize him at all, and she suddenly began to feel very nervous.

“Yeah,” was all Olivia could reply with, squeezing the cat tighter, really without thinking about it.

The man stooped down lower, his body appearing crooked as she did so. “Are you all by yourself? Where is your dad?”

Olivia took a step back, feeling more and more nervous. She didn’t know what to say or even what to do, but before she could even think of an answer, he stepped even closer. “It’s all right,” he said. “You can trust me, Miss Mann,”

Without even thinking, Olivia looked to her left for whatever was next to her, and when she spotted a tennis racket, she snatched it up and whacked the man across the face with it. He let out a shriek, stumbling back and yelling, “Aw, God, you little shit!”

Olivia began to wonder if he would attempt to attack her after she’d hit him, so she raised the tennis racket again, taking another step towards him, filled with near-murderous rage all of the sudden.

Right then, though, Sniper swooped in, snatching Olivia up and prying the tennis racket away from her and throwing it back towards the bin it had come from.

“There you are!” Sniper exclaimed. “We’ve been looking all over for you!”

Olivia squirmed in his grip, shrieking, “That guy was being weird to me! And he said a swear!”

The man recovered from the blow, but he looked up at Sniper, confusion crossing his expression. “Who the hell are you?”

Sniper looked over his shoulder at the man, squinting. “Huh?”

“Where is Gray?” the man asked, seemingly reaching for Olivia.

Sniper stepped away, getting an uneasy feeling. “What the…? Hey, piss off! Don’t approach lil’ kids like that, you bloody weirdo!”

As Sniper got away from the situation as quick as he could, Olivia calmed down somewhat. Once they were a safe enough distance away, he set her back down, and that was when he noticed the cat.

“Hey, you found a stuffy?” Sniper pointed out. “It’s very nice,”

“Oh,” Olivia had forgotten she was even still holding it. She felt it in her hands, looking back up at Sniper. “Yeah, it’s a cat – who was that guy?”

“I dunno,” Sniper plucked the cat out of her hands, carefully leading her to the checkout area. “But if he ever bothers you again, best believe we’re gonna keep you safe,”

“Okay…” Olivia stared at the stuffed cat in Sniper hands as they approached the register. “What are you gonna do with that?”

“I’m gonna pay for it for you,” Sniper replied, shrugging. “After I do, we can meet back up with Engie and Scout and head on back. Sound good?”

Olivia nodded. “Okay. Yeah, that’s good,” she looked back up at Sniper, watching him as he got his wallet out of his pocket to make sure he had cash on him. The memory of what had just happened in the toy isle crossed her mind, and she shuddered, trying to block it out while standing closer to Sniper.

Sniper noticed, and he took a moment to reach down with a free hand, unsure of how to comfort her but just patting her head for now.

“It’s okay.” He assured her, and although Olivia still felt nervous, the sound of his voice and the tiny gesture of affection made her feel more secure.

[jaxl-road]

Swelter

Same universe as Shiver//Shake and Suffocate. Can be read as a stand-alone, but probably makes a bit more sense if you read those first. Also available on AO3.

Summary: Tommy feels like he has to be strong and take care of Nikki, even if that means hiding when he needs help.

Warnings: None I think, let me know if I missed something!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started with a cough.

A tickle in the back of Tommy’s throat, really, like he had inhaled a bit of dust or something. It wouldn’t go away though, even after multiple attempts to clear his throat and drinking some water. But as annoying as it was, the drummer didn’t think anything of it, distracting himself with booze and music and a beautiful boy in his bed.

He still got a goofy smile on his face whenever he fell into bed with Nikki, even after over four months together. Actually, according to Mick, he pretty much got a goofy smile on his face anytime Nikki walked into the room. But he couldn’t help it- as soon as their relationship was revealed, it was like the floodgates opened. The terror twins had always been affectionate, but now Tommy took every opportunity to kiss Nikki’s hair, and cheeks, and mouth, lacing their fingers together under tables and pulling him onto his lap at every after party.

Not that Nikki ever complained, laughing and throwing his arms around the drummer and playing with his hair. And when Vince made fake gagging noises at their kisses he simply kissed Tommy harder.

Yeah. Tommy felt more and more head over heels everyday.

Which was why he was beyond frustrated when he woke up and found that the tickle in his throat had only grown worse. It felt lower, closer to his lungs, and his breath caught in a desperate attempt not to cough. Looking over, he saw Nikki curled next to him, makeup smudged around his eyes and hair a wild mess, breathing softly. Tommy rarely got to see Nikki asleep- the bassist was usually the last to drift off and the first to wake, sleep a constant battleground for the man. So the drummer refused to disturb his boyfriend’s much needed rest for something as stupid as a cough.

Unfortunately, his body didn’t seem to understand that, and he felt his eyes watering the longer he held it in. Finally, he rolled over as gently as he could away from Nikki and buried his face in his pillow, finally succumbing to the hacking in his lungs. He clutched the pillow around his head, trying to muffle the sounds as much as possible.

“Hmmpf, T-Bone?” Tommy wanted to punch something when he felt the bed shift as Nikki sat up, “You alright, babe?”

It took a minute for the coughing to subside, but when it did, Tommy sat up with a frustrated sigh, “Yeah, just had something in my throat,” he coughed a little to try to clear the raspy sound in his voice, “I’m sorry for waking you,” he said softly.

Nikki smiled sleepily, “No worried, dude. I should be getting up soon anyway, I wanted to work on a couple songs before practice today,” he stretched his arms over his head, and Tommy cursed internally.

“Aw, come on,” he whined, “don’t get up yet,” he wrapped his arms around Nikki’s waist, rolling over to lay on top of him. He smiled mischievously, “Stay a little longer.”

Chuckling, Nikki smirked up at him, “Well… maybe just a little longer.”

Grinning in victory, Tommy leaned down to plant a soft kiss on the bassist’s lips before shifting down to rest his head on his chest, ignoring the ache in his throat and crossing his fingers that Nikki might fall back asleep for a little longer.

Things had been amazing recently, both with the band and their relationship, but the truth was Nikki still struggled a lot and the insomnia was only part of it. He was the strongest person Tommy knew, but Nikki was still healing from a lifetime of pain. There was still fear embedded in his chest like shrapnel, and some days his pain drifted closer to the surface, and some days his demons nipped closer at his heels, and some days his hands wouldn’t stop shaking and fuck, all Tommy wanted was to make it better. Tommy wanted to be strong for him, to take care of him, to support him every chance he got. He had to.

No point in burdening him with a minor cough.

~~~~~~~

The problem was that it apparently was more than just a “minor cough”. As the week wore on, Tommy found it harder and harder to hide the rasping in his lungs. He got exhausted so easily, almost panting by the end of rehearsal, his body ached, and by the end of the week he was suppressing shivers because he just couldn’t seem to get warm.

Nikki furrowed his brows as he looked at the younger boy, “Hey Tommy, are you… okay?” concern was heavy in his voice, “You’ve been kind of quiet the last few days.”

Tommy wanted to kick himself. He had to get it together, Nikki dealt with enough anxiety without Tommy adding more to it. Mustering up all the energy he could, he plastered on a wide smile, “Oh, I’m totally fine! Just kind of jittery for the show tonight. We’re playing a lot of new stuff, you know, I want to make sure I bring my A-game.”

He hated the thought of lying, but when Nikki relaxed, he figured it was okay. The bassist smiled, throwing an arm around him, “Hey, you’re gonna rock tonight, just like you always do!”

“We’re going to rock,” Tommy corrected, relieved that he had managed to dodge that bullet. He was fine, and he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of him taking care of Nikki.

That’s what he told himself when he snorted a long line of coke and shoved a handful of cough drops into his mouth half an hour before the show that night. Their shows had been consistently selling out, and they had even been discussing how to go about putting out their first album. It was exhilarating, and a little overwhelming sometimes, but Tommy kept that part to himself. Right now, all he could think about was getting through this one show without fucking up. He’d already gotten weird looks from his bandmates for going on stage with his jacket on. Tommy was practically known for pushing the limits of how little clothes he could wear when performing, but he just felt so cold.

When the show started, the lights felt like they were stabbing his eyes, and his arms felt too heavy, and the drugs weren’t helping the exhaustion at all like he’d hoped. He took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when it triggered that fucking persistent cough. Turning to duck his head into his shoulder, he coughed as discreetly as possible while the crowd was distracted by Vince introducing them.

Throughout the show, all Tommy focused on was not fucking up. He barely looked out at the crowd, didn’t even attempt to twirl his drumsticks, and only mouthed the words he was meant to be singing in the background. He concentrated his meager amount of energy into keeping time and hitting the right drums at the right time. Anything extra was out of the question tonight.

Usually Tommy was practically overheating by the end of a show, sweating more than any of the guys from all the energy he poured into his playing. Even now he could feel his hair plastered to his face, which made no sense to him because he was still shivering. If anything it has only gotten worse as the night progressed, and he had to clench his teeth to keep them from chattering. Every time they got to a particularly loud part of a song he’d take the opportunity to hack and cough over his shoulder.

Simply put, Tommy was miserable. As the band took their final bows and made their way off stage, Tommy tried to think of some sort of excuse to get out of going to any sort of afterparty that wouldn’t be suspicious. He didn’t want to cause a fuss, but fuck, he just wanted to go home. All he wanted was to pass out in Nikki’s arms.

Poor choice of words, apparently.

Halfway down the hall to the dressing room, Tommy had to stop walking, because everything was swaying and spinning around him. It felt like he was on a boat in a storm, stumbling even as he stood still.

“Tommy?”

The voice sounded far away, muffled and soft. The lights didn’t seem so bright anymore, and the aches and chills were gone as he felt himself drift outside his body, floating gently towards the ceiling even as the floor tilted towards him.

“Tommy!”

~~~~~~~

The first time he wakes up, he doesn’t really wake up.

Everything is black. He thinks maybe his eyes are closed. But he aches again, and he’s cold again, and he feels hands gripping him gently to move him. He feels fingers running through his hair and then he’s out again.

~~~~~~~

The second time he wakes up, he manages to open his eyes a little, although it takes him a minute to notice because everything is still dark. Eventually he realizes that it’s dark because he’s staring at the ceiling of Mick’s car. None of the interior lights work in the rusty piece of shit, so nighttime left the vehicle dark as a cave.

“-what about- …. -ith me?”

“-uck that, I’m- …. -nything!- ….. -ing pay you back, just go!”

Words filter in and out, like breaking through water and then diving back under again and again. He tries to turn his head towards the voices, but a gentle hand rests on his cheek to keep him still. Sluggishly, his eyes drift up so see a dark, blurry outline. He sees red painted lips form the shape of words, but he’s already drifting away again.

~~~~~~~

The third time he wakes up, it actually feels like waking up.

Blinking wearily, it takes him a minute to realize that he’s home, laying in bed in their run down apartment. Something soft and cold smooths over his forehead, and while he was still shivering, it felt inexplicably incredible, and he found himself closing his eyes and sighing in relief.

“You back with me, babe?”

He’ll never quite get used to the soft, gentle tone that Nikki only gets in his voice with Tommy. Opening his eyes again, he turns his head and finds himself looking up at Nikki as the other man continues running the cold washcloth over his cheeks. He smiles warmly, “How are you feeling?”

“M’fine,” he mumbled without thinking, leaning into Nikki’s touch, “How’re you?” he asked habitually.

Nikki just laughed, shaking his head, “Fuck, T-Bone.”

Frowning, Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a deep, raspy cough. Nikki quickly helped him sit up, rubbing his back soothingly until the coughing subsided. When his breathing finally returned to normal, Nikki tugged him back so that his back was resting against his chest, keeping one arm wrapped loosely around his middle while the other held the washcloth to the back of his neck.

“Go back to sleep, babe,” he whispered in his ear.

Tommy wanted to protest, but he didn’t have much say in the matter. He blinked and sleep reclaimed him.

~~~~~

The next time he wakes up, he wakes up proper.

For a split second, it feels like a regular morning. The sheets are tangled around his body, and the sun shines through their thin, shitty curtains, and fingers are gently combing through his hair.

But then, he wakes up just a little bit more and all the shittiness hits him. His throat feels raw and torn up, his body is sticky with sweat, and his eyes feel hot and achy. A weak moan escapes him, and he buries his face in what he quickly realizes is not a pillow.

His head is resting in Nikki’s lap, and the bassist frowned when he heard the drummer wake, “Hey, you okay? You feeling alright?” He pushed Tommy’s hair away from his face so he could see him more clearly.

Tommy merely grunts in response. He wants to ignore everything, but Nikki doesn’t let him. Instead, he carefully turns his face until they are looking at each other, “How long have you been sick, babe?”

There is no accusation in his words, no anger, or disappointment, or annoyance, but Tommy still finds his vision blurring with tears. He’s too tired and he feels too awful to try to hide anymore.

“About a week,” he choked out.

“Dude, why didn’t you say anything?” He’s still speaking quietly, but Nikki’s voice is sad and dismayed, “You were burning up yesterday, we almost took you to the hospital!”

Swallowing thickly, Tommy pressed his face into Nikki’s thighs, trying to hide his face and the tears streaming down it even as his shoulders hitched traitorously.

“‘M sorry,” his voice cracked pathetically, “I didn’t want to stress you out. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Nikki feels a flare of anger and has to clench his teeth shut, forcing himself to wait for it to pass. Because having his boyfriend pass out on him after a show was a lot more fucking stressful than Tommy just admitting he was sick in the first place would have been. When the drummer had keeled over he swore his heart had stopped, he was so freaked out. Even after they realized he was sick and managed to get him home and force some medicine down his throat the second he was half conscious Nikki felt like he could barely breathe. He’d been up all night, terrified that his fever would spike or they’d need to drag him to the hospital after all.

But, he realizes as he exhales slowly, saying any of that would definitely not help. It would almost certainly make things worse. He allowed the silence to stretch, reaching out to hold one of Tommy’s clammy hands and petting his hair while he sniffled and hiccuped.

Finally, Nikki spoke, “We’re in this together, right?” his words were soft, but firm, “That’s what you said to me. We’re a team. That means that I have your back, too. I’m not gonna let you hog all the worry and caretaking in this relationship,” Tommy let out a breathy giggle, turning to look up at him with watery eyes. Nikki smiled teasingly, “You gotta share that shit. I’ll keep a fucking tally board if I have to. Bottom line is you have to let me take care of you too, and if you try to argue I will bleach your hair in your sleep, you perfect, beautiful dumbass.”

Tommy laughed more fully, which of course made him start coughing, Nikki helping him sit up again. When it finally passed though, he was still smiling, wiping his arm across his face.

“Okay,” he conceded, his voice scratchy and weak, “I guess that’s fair.”

“You’re damn right it is,” Nikki smirked. Carefully disentangling himself, he stood from the bed, leaning down to press his lips to the top of Tommy’s head. The drummer huffed out a laugh, thinking to himself about how gross his hair must be right now, yet Nikki still kissed it without hesitation. That’s true love right there.

~~~~~

Vince dropped by his room to see him later in the day, “Yo, Tommy!” he grinned as he walked over, “Where’s your nurse?” he asked teasingly.

Tommy chuckled, “Just grabbing a couple things.” His voice was still scratchy and quiet.

Laughing, Vince sat on the edge of his bed, “Seriously though, how are you feeling?”

Groaning, Tommy rolled onto his back, stating miserably, “I’m dying.”

“Not on my watch!!”

Both men jumped at Nikki’s determined shout, the bassist sliding into the doorway dramatically. His arms were full of water bottles, an entire jug of orange juice, various medicines, washcloths, and an unopened can of soup.

“God as my witness these fucking germs are gonna wish they’d never come near my boyfriend!” he declared with a righteous fury that had Vince bursting into giggles.

“Dude, how mad are you that you can’t physically punch Tommy’s fucking illness?”

“Fucking livid,” Nikki muttered petulantly, dropping the items he had brought onto the bed. Tommy snickered, taking one of the water bottles as Nikki sorted through which medicine he should take.

“What the fuck is with the soup?” Vince questioned.

Nikki shot him a look of disbelief, “It’s chicken noodle. That’s like, the thing you give sick people, right?”

“No, no, it is. It’s just, usually you actually take it out of the can first. Maybe heat it up if you’re feeling fancy,” Vince explained sarcastically.

“I know that!”

“Are you sure? Cause you didn’t look sure.”

“Alright, you know what asshole-”

Shifting a bit to get more comfortable, Tommy couldn’t help but smile as he watched his bandmates bicker. He still felt like shit. But that was okay.

Nikki would take care of him.