#(though i imagine it will show up in at least the tag searches anyway since i've mentioned them in the main body :') my apologies) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

martuzzio · 3 years ago

Note

The idea of Ren joining the Amputees-Only club sounds so bittersweet... cuz before he knew they were having fun, but also knew that they were allowed to have a bond like that. He never expected to join them.

I can honestly imagine in his first few meetings there's a few times where Ren just cries, poor guy...

Rendog's first Amputee's Only Club Meeting (written under the cut because this one is longer than normal)

Despite what the universe seems to think, Doc is a pretty easygoing guy. Yes, he does look scary as hell and yes, he was a mob boss at one point, but that doesn’t mean he’s a violent person. Well, he’s violent when he needs to be, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys it. In reality, his favorite moments are all from quiet parts of his normal, boring, daily life as a hermit.

In these everyday moments, Doc likes to process things. He likes to sit in the greenhouse and watch the bio bees work alongside the robot bees. He likes to brush his fingers on the plants and let his half-robotic brain process the data into something that resembles touch. He likes to listen to Grian and Etho chat as they work.

He observes small moments like these because that’s all he really does. He takes in data and processes it. He uses the processed information to judge his surroundings and react accordingly. Sometimes this means that he uses his data to laugh at his friends who make dumb jokes. But sometimes he uses the data to run, hide, or fight back. When all you do is process data to keep yourself alive, it becomes very hard to ignore incoming information.

This is how Doc eventually locates Ren. He wasn’t planning on finding where his longtime friend wheeled off to, much less go searching for him, but Doc unfortunately decided to take a more leisurely route to the bridge and his camera eye caught the slight movement anyway. Doc has to give it to him; the man knows how to hide. The werewolf is in a lesser-used community room, curled into a dusty couch that’s been shoved into the corner. The chrome wheels of his temporary mobility aid reflect off of the window overlooking deep space. Ren has his left leg drawn up to this chest. His stump of a right leg rests on the couch cushion, shunned. Ren’s obviously hid because he doesn’t want to be found, but unluckily for him, Doc was specifically altered to notice things.

Ren’s flinch when Doc claps his hand on his shoulder is almost unnoticeable. Ren looks like he’s either been crying or had a bad allergic reaction to the dust. Doc assumes the former.

“Cub was working on your new parts earlier today. They look pretty sick,” he ventures.

Ren looks like he has the entire universe on his shoulders. “That’s wonderful,” he mumbles. He opens his mouth as if to say more, but instead sighs and slides his eyes shut.

Doc plops down on the couch and slings his arm over the back of the rest. The action makes Ren recoil again, this time more visibly, and Doc pointedly ignores it. Instead, he says, “As much as I want you to come see what Cub is making, you will go to him when you feel like it. There is nothing you need to do right now besides heal.”

Ren barks out a wet laugh. “Bro, I appreciate you so much, but how can stumps heal?”

Doc’s cybernetic hand twitches in sympathy. “You know what I mean, man, and we both know it.” Doc replies. He looks down at the sliver of space between his leg and Ren’s and chews his words. Ren shifts his gaze to Doc’s arm, then to gaze directly at the creeper’s face.

Doc feels uncomfortable in a way he’s never felt before. All of the other amputee hermits were already amputees when they joined the crew. They had time to heal, be angry, and let go in their own ways. He did, too. But now, with Ren sitting next to him, suffering through the same kind of anguish Doc felt when he first woke up from being operated on, Doc suddenly doesn’t know how to act. How do you comfort someone who literally lost a third of their body? As much as Doc knows what that feels like and as much as he wants to help his friend, he might not be able to. He might not ever be able to.

It’s the single most heartbreaking thing that Doc’s realized in a long, long time.

This revelation causes the duo to sit in silence for a long while. Then, Doc gets an idea. His eye shifts to look at his friend. Ren narrows his eyes tiredly but waits anyway.

“The Amputees-Only Club meeting is in a few minutes.” Doc murmurs. Ren is silent, but he plows on. “I think you should come,” he pleads. “I think everyone would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s throat clicks as he swallows. “I’m sure they would.”

“I would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s eyelids squeeze together. “I know you would.”

“Then let’s go,” Doc insists as he pushes himself to his feet. He turns around and smiles as much as he can at his friend, still curled up on the couch. Ren gazes exhaustedly back. “I think it would be a good idea.” He wishes his smile weren’t so frightening.

Ren moves to rub his eyes with his hands but remembers he’s missing one of his arms a little too late. The resulting crumpled expression immediately burns into Doc’s deep storage memory. “I don’t know, Doc.” The werewolf manages after a long moment. “I appreciate you trying to help, but…”

Doc understands. Of course he does. When he first joined the hermits, the idea of a weekly club meeting exclusively for amputees sounded farfetched at best and belittling at worst. Hell, he didn’t even think there were enough amputees on the team to warrant a club. Imagine his surprise when three other people showed up to his first session, all excited he was there to hang out with them.

With this in mind, all he can do is repeat, “I think it would be a good idea.”

Ren stares up at him, and in that moment, he looks as old as Xisuma. But then he gently closes his eyes, inhales slowly and shallowly, and motions for Doc to drag his mobility aid closer. Doc complies immediately.

The journey to the meeting room, like every other journey on the Hermit Craft, is long. It’s made even longer because of Ren’s inexperience with his aid, but Doc doesn’t dare to offer his help. They eventually end up in front of the elevator that Doc remotely called beforehand with his brain chip. When the doors open, Doc lets Ren wheel in first.

Ren is silent in the elevator. Doc tries to catch his expression, but his friend’s unruly hair blocks his vision. “We’re playing cards tonight.” He mentions.

“That’s what you do at every Amputee-Only Club meeting.”

Doc shifts his eye back to the elevator door. “��Correct.”

Ren doesn’t reply.

When the duo finally reaches the Club meeting room, Doc pauses outside for a moment instead of directing his brain to open the door like normal. He glances down at Ren again and murmurs, “if you don’t want to go back, or to your room or something, that’s—”

“It’s fine,” Ren interrupts. He sounds defeated. “We walked all the way here, so we may as well go.”

Doc activates the door without another thought.

The door slides open and reveals the club room. It’s small, smaller than the average community space on the Hermit Craft, but it feels warm. The soft yellow color painted on the walls matches pleasantly with the yellow of the couch cushions. Joe definitely was the one to orchestrate that. There’s a small kitchenette in the corner that’s set up to have nice views of outer space. Various game tables fill the rest of the room, a few surrounded by five chairs. Doc wonders if Ren will notice the new chair addition. Maybe he already had.

The most interesting part of the space, though, is the people within it. TFC is bundled up on the couch, snoring pleasantly and covered in at least ten blankets. His usual plate of cookies is already half eaten. Iskall is standing at the kitchen counter, fiddling with a teacup filled with a mysterious bright pink liquid. His outfit has a few suspicious-looking singe marks at the hem. Finally, Scar is sat at the poker table in the middle of the room, crossed legs resting on an adjacent chair. He’s sorting through a pile of yellow and orange chips. To Doc’s continued wonder, the stack of bright blue cards resting near Scar’s elbow have miraculously not been knocked onto the floor yet.

When the doors open, Scar and Iskall look over. Ren immediately shifts at Doc’s elbow. Doc waits a moment to let Ren speak if he wants to, but when his shorter friend remains silent, he clears his throat in a grinding noise and announces, unnecessarily, “We’re here.”

Scar is so excited that his eyes have turned into little slivers of green. “Ren, I’m so happy you decided to tag along!” He kicks one of the chairs out from the table and clonks his foot on it for emphasis. The blue cards wobble on the edge of the table but still refuse to fall. “Sit down! Iskall can get you something to drink. Have you ever played poker?” He leans forward with the question. “It’s difficult, but I think it’s fun!”

“Uh, I haven’t.” Ren replies awkwardly, still at the door alongside Doc. “I’ve never even heard of it before.”

“Yeah, I would be surprised if you knew about it. It’s one of those old-timey games from TFC’s era.” Iskall says from across the room. He is now by the couch and is gently patting TFC’s fluffy hair to wake him. “Don’t worry that you don’t know. We’ll teach you.”

Ren tries and fails to make a pointed noise of interest, but he still seems intrigued. Doc feels the knot in his chest loosen a little. He rolls his shoulders to relieve some tension and moves to sit down. By the time he turns his head to look back, Ren is already wheeling forward to join him but looks lost as to where he should sit.

“Howdy, Ren. Sit next to me so I can teach you, but I’ll only teach if you’re willing to listen.” TFC, now awake, grumbles good-naturedly as he heaves himself off the couch. With his large frame still wrapped in a dozen blankets, he looks like a huge bear compared to Iskall. Which is impressive, Doc thinks, since Iskall is nowhere near frail. TFC’s metal prosthetic clonks on the floor as he walks over to the poker table. As he sits down across from Scar, he says, “There’s no point in just sitting there and gawking at us. Grab a seat.” He uses his leg to nudge the chair to his left.

Ren blinks and maneuvers his aid to let him sit down next to the astronaut. TFC procures a blanket from his pile and offers one to him. Ren, after slowly settling in his chair, accepts the pink fuzzy blanket. Doc accepts a purple one.

TFC lances over to Ren as he saves the blue cards from the edge of the table. “Poker’s good fun. You’ll get it in no time.” He snorts and flicks his gaze to Scar, who is busy stacking the chips into a pyramid. “This one always makes sure we have a great, long game.”

Scar looks up and winces minutely in a false apology. “Sorry about that.”

TFC chuckles. “Boy, I’ve never had better games than when I play with you.”

Scar’s grin almost sparkles. TFC and Doc grin back and Iskall hides his laugh in his shoulder.

“Anyway, ready for your first game with us amputees?” TFC brings the conversation back to Ren, who suddenly looks a lot more uncomfortable.

“I,” he begins, his eyes flicking to TFC, then Doc, before looking down. “I, well, uh…”

The table is silent. Iskall is staring at the table with his hands in his lap. TFC sighs and begins shuffling the cards. Doc, as much as he wants to clear the air somehow, can’t seem to find a way to do so. Scar just looks sad. He looks right at Ren, almost through him.

Ren stares back, eyes wide.

“You don’t want to be here.” Scar says quietly, finally. It’s not a question. Ren’s choked response makes the ex-convex smile slightly. “You can say so, Ren. You’re not going to hurt our feelings. None of us want to be here. But, as much as we may want to, we can’t change what happened to us.” He falls silent again as he looks at a particularly twisted scar on the back of his left hand. He rubs at it harshly with the pad of his thumb before Iskall stops him. “This might be selfish,” Scar continues, softly, “but I’m happy that I at least don’t have to sit in here alone.”

For a long moment, the table is silent. Then, with a rush of noise, Ren makes a sound like he’s dying. In a certain way, Doc thinks, he is.

“I don’t want to be here,” Ren confesses as his open mouth contorts and tears roll down his face. “I don’t want to be here.”

All Doc can do is wrap his arms around everyone else, encasing Ren and his other amputee friends in his embrace, and wish he could do more.

#hermitcraft #space outlaws stories #rendog #docm77 #tinfoilchef #goodtimeswithscar #iskall85

281 notes · View notes

ahatintimepieces · 3 years ago

Text

In Want of Stitching

I am delighted to present another little fic for the build-a-bear au by @smieska-draws‘ and me! Smieska generously offered to let me post her incredible art above^ with this fic where Hattie is reunited with her favorite doll from her childhood! The doll is worse for wear, but Hattie knows just how to help! Be sure to give Smieska your love, and if you missed it, the previous fic is here. Without further ado, enjoy!

Words: 4,180

Hattie kicked her legs as she perched on the table in the breakroom. One hand was propped back, nestled between Dimitri’s bag and her backpack, and the other held her dwindling milkshake left over from dinner. While she waited for her dad to finish up with the last customer before closing, she watched Dimitri fuss with the supplies on the shelves.

He struggled to pull out one of the drawers and the sharp jostle of the handle caused the whole structure to shift. He froze and Hattie’s eyes widened as they waited to see if the cleaning items up top would tumble. While the bottles wobbled like a spinning toy wavering to a stop, they stilled without any avalanche and Dimitri and Hattie relaxed.

“I’m just going to deal with that in the morning,” Dimitri huffed, turning around. “Don’t tell your dad.”

Hattie gave him a thumbs up as she reached the dredges of her milkshake and the straw gurgled as it sucked air between the last of the frosty cream. While he crossed over to the rack of aprons, her gaze drifted down to the floor. The off-kilter shelf had shifted away from the wall, revealing a large dust bunny.

Narrowing her eyes, she tried to get a better look at the mound of grey that seemed to cover something else.

“See ya tomorrow, kid?” Dimitri prompted, snapping his name tag against the magnet on the wall.

“Probably!” She lifted her chin.

“Boss says a daycare center has scheduled a trip to the mall, so we might be busy,” he sighed, reaching for his bag. She scooted out of his way and nodded.

“That could be fun. But also noisy,” she offered, glancing up as she mentally noted to warn Belle, Mu, and Timmy that they needed to avoid the food court for lunch. Maybe hide in the café connected to the bookstore.

“Noisy is right.” Dimitri swung his bag over his shoulder.

“Will Dad have to work on the floor?” She lowered her empty milkshake.

“I imagine so,” he paused on his way to the door. When she placed the cup down and blew a raspberry as she slouched, he prompted, “why?”

“It just means I have to keep Mu and Timmy away. They’re trying to prove he’s magic and can blow things up with his mind.” Scowling, she swung her legs a little too hard and the table creaked underneath her.

“Is that why they asked him to heat up their—”

“Lunch?” She crinkled her nose. “Yeah.”

Dimitri sucked in air before bursting into laughter.

“They looked so mad when he used the microwave!” he wheezed, gesturing to the other table with the offending appliance. “Mu’s stink eye nearly killed me!”

“It’s dumb,” Hattie grumbled.

Catching her frustration, Dimitri reeled in his laughter and cleared his throat.

“There’s no harm in it,” he tried. “The boss can be a bit eccentric, and it can be fun to pretend, but I’m sure even Mu and Timmy know he’s not actually able to light things on fire or…” he paused, giving her a curious look, “steal souls.”

“They sure act like he does.” She turned away, cupping her chin in her hands.

“Have you told them it bothers you when they fixate on it?” Dimitri asked sympathetically.

“Yeah, and they ignore it because they think he actually does all of those things.” Her glare hardened.

“You could talk to the boss?”

“I don’t want him to know about the rumors.” After a beat, she looked up to meet Dimitri’s blank expression. “What?”

“He knows,” he said dryly. Her jaw dropped and he softened. “Listen, you might want to just talk with him about the whole Snatcher myth if it’s getting under your skin, but it’s not harming anyone. I think it also gets the store more foot traffic from teens, which isn’t usually our intended demographic. So, in a way, it even helps!”

Hattie groaned, flopping onto her backpack and staring at the ceiling.

“Hang in there, kid.” His shoes tapped against the tile as he walked towards the door. “But just talk to him. See you!”

“Night, Dimitri.” She gave a halfhearted wave as he left. Once the door shut, she fixated on the faint buzz of the lights in the breakroom.

Seconds ticked by.

She heaved herself up, bored with staring blankly and too tired to stew in her frustration any longer. After scooting to the edge of the table, she dropped down with her flipflops slapping against the ground. She intended to toss the milkshake cup and pester her dad while he closed the workshop, but her gaze shifted back towards the shelves. The oddly large dust bunny piqued her curiosity once more and she crossed over.

Crouching down, she prodded the clump of hairs and silver dust. A dead fly was caught in the webbing and bits of dirt or crumbs were suspended on the hairs. But when she pressed down, a firm something lay between her and the tile.

Shifting, she pressed her cheek against the wall and peered into the crack between it and the shelf. Behind the dust bunny lay a small doll, crushed and crumpled.

After a precursory check for spiders, she reached back and pinched one of the doll’s puffy sleeves. The dust bunny tickled her finger, and she crinkled her nose in disgust. As soon as the doll was pulled out into the open, she batted the wad of grey from its mitten hand, and the cloud of minuscule debris floated harmlessly to the ground. She gasped when she held the doll out in the light.

Beneath the grey streaks of grime, a missing button eye, the torn right arm, and a left hand hanging by a single thread, was the prince doll that she had loved so dearly when she was younger. Her heart soared, but the doll’s state soon had guilt souring her joy.

It had been ages. The last time she saw the doll, he had been a bit worn, but still intact. She had been near inconsolable when she lost him. Her dad promised to get her a new, better doll, but she loved the prince doll because of all the memories they shared. Despite all her searching and tears back then, her dad urged her to move on as the doll had continued to elude her. And no wonder! All this time, the doll had been in the breakroom rather than home. He must have somehow fallen behind the shelf at the workshop when she had been playing, only to be shoved deeper and deeper into the dark over the years.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, frowning at the frayed threads where a button used to be. When she poked the remaining button, it wobbled, threatening to soon snap away as well. She brushed back the yarn hair, covered in dust that caused the chestnut hue to appear murky. The felt crown looked more brown than yellow, and ashen stuffing dripped from the doll’s arm and broken wrist.

But… it was still her favorite doll. Though it had been years, relief surged through her chest.

“I’ll clean you up!” she promised to herself, gently giving the dusty, dilapidated doll a soft hug.

She knew how to sew, at least! And she had the materials at home. She could even surprise her dad! He always reacted positively when she showed him the hats or masks she made.

Scrambling to her feet, she carried the doll over to the table. She grabbed a couple of tissues to wrap him up, both hoping to keep him protected and intact and to prevent the dust from spreading in her backpack. She was just tucking him safely into her bag, nestled between new fabric she got from her millinery lessons earlier and a graphic novel that Timmy recommended, when the door thrust open.

She turned, noting her dad’s slouched posture as he removed his apron, which was common on days he had to both open and close the workshop. Holding his hand over his mouth, he tried to cover a wide yawn, but his sharp fangs still glinted in the light.

“Time to go?” Hattie prompted while zipping up her backpack.

“Finally, yes.” He paused, glancing towards the shelves. “Did Dimitri refill the sewing kits?”

She shrugged in Dimitri-solidarity when her dad turned back around. He accepted it without further prodding and tossed his apron onto a hook.

Hattie slipped on her backpack gently to keep from jostling the doll as her dad pulled out his hair tie and scratched at his scalp. He grabbed his keys and waited for Hattie to shuffle over.

Once he finished locking up and took her hand to lead her through the dark parking lot, she mentally went through the list of supplies she needed to fix up the prince doll. Neither she nor her dad said a word as their footsteps tapped against the still warm gravel. But that was normal for them. Her dad didn’t usually have much to say unless otherwise prompted by people or work, especially when he was tired. So, she continued her quiet pondering all the way home, staring blankly at the streetlights as the radio played family-friendly tunes at a hushed volume.

As soon as they got home, Hattie dashed into her room. She swept her arm across her workbench to clear away the new beret she was making and placed her top hat on the hat display stand her teacher had given her. Since she only had one, it was her favorite top hat that got the place of honor. Then, she dropped her backpack onto the ground and retrieved the prince doll.

He lay on the tissues that were now smeared with grey. Even just folding back the material caused Hattie to swiftly turn away and sneeze, jostling him as he perched on her palm. She’d need to clean the doll, but the open cuts in his arms worried her. After prodding around, she decided it might be better to pluck out the dusty stuffing, since his arms were closed off from his main body anyway. The loose button, too, she thought to remove to ensure easier cleaning.

She got to work, walking back and forth between her room and the bathroom as she ferried supplies. If her dad wondered what she was up to, he didn’t comment as he settled down in the living room to quietly read.

Setting up a doll bath in the sink by lowering the plug, she submerged the doll into the water with iridescent bubbles lining the porcelain. His one arm threatened to come off and his other hand floated at an odd angle. Undaunted, Hattie stuck out her tongue as she scrubbed the dust and cobwebs from his hair. The felt crown popped off at one point, and while she rescued it, the original gilded color seemed beyond saving so she decided to replace it. But she kept the crown nearby so that she could copy the size and shape.

Once the years of neglect were scrubbed away, Hattie drained the sink and rinsed the soap suds from the doll. The chest felt heavy with the water, even more than the lolling head. But hopefully the doll would dry just fine.

While wringing out the water, she tried to squeeze the doll gently, intent on preserving the fragile threads. Finally, she laid him out on a towel and used another to dab up as much water as she could. Wondering if she could borrow her dad’s hairdryer to speed up the process, she hurried into the living room.

“Da-ad,” she called as she padded onto the carpet. “Where’s your hairdryer?”

“Under the sink in my bathroom. Why?” He turned the page of his novel without looking up.

“It’s a surprise.” Arcing around the table, she peeked at the title. She recognized it as Ember’s latest recommendation from her book club. Curious, she slipped over to the armrest where he reclined. She leaned over his shoulder and identified Ember’s annotations that lined the margins in pencil, confirming that she had loved it enough to lend him the book.

“Should I be worried about this surprise?” he asked, unbothered by her hovering.

“Nope!” she chirped cheerfully as she jumped back to face him.

“Carry on, then,” he muttered, his golden eyes flittering back and forth as he read.

The amber light from the lamp behind him skipped across the strands of his hair, painting the coal-colored locks with flickers of iridescent violets. With his cheek pressed into his palm and his elbow on the armrest, his gaze momentarily flickered away from the book as he used his pinky finger to turn to the next page.

“Need something else, kiddo?”

Instead of answering right away, she hopped onto the couch and crawled onto his chest. He held still as she flopped onto her back, staring up at the book.

“Is the story good?” she prompted.

“It’s crafted well.”

“But are you enjoying it?” She tilted her head back into his shoulder. He kept his eyes ahead.

“Not really.” He sounded calm as he said it.

“But you don’t hate it?” she clarified.

“No.” He turned the page.

She sighed, not expecting anything different.

Usually, it didn’t matter. But she didn’t want the same reaction if she asked how he felt about the rumors of the Snatcher. She knew Dimitri thought she needed to talk to him about it but…

“What would you do if you had magic powers?” she asked instead.

“What?” That got him to look down. He quirked a brow and she shrugged.

“If I had magic powers, I would make my top hat like a bag of holding. I could carry all my stuff everywhere and be prepared for anything.”

“Oh.” He relaxed and lifted his gaze back to his novel.

“So, what would you do?” she repeated.

“Hm?”

“What would you do with magic?”

He hummed, lifting his head and reaching over to help steady the book as he turned the page. Once he settled back, he shrugged.

“I’d use it to heat up my coffee.”

For a split second, she wondered if he was also privy to Timmy’s and Mu’s speculations.

“That’s boring.” She narrowed her eyes.

“I’m a boring person,” he provided.

She grumbled and he continued to read. Scooting closer to his arm holding the book, she wedged herself into the crook formed by him and the back of the couch. He shifted slightly, but otherwise let her get comfortable. She curled up so that the side of her head pressed against his chest.

There was a muffled crackling sound, like crinkled paper.

“Hey Dad, do you know about the Snatcher?” She tensed.

“You mean what everyone calls me at work?” He managed a snort. “Or do you mean all that talk of soul-stealing?”

She snapped her head up, baffled.

“Y-you’re okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He met her gaze, though from the way his palm squished his cheek and he leaned back, he seemed far from interested.

“Because it’s not true!” She gestured wildly. “Isn’t that something your dumb books talk about? Unfair deformation of character.”

“I think you mean defamation,” he corrected with a sly grin.

“That too!” she insisted.

“It gets us more customers and makes my job more interesting. So, no. It doesn’t bother me.” He started to tear his gaze away, “But speaking of my dumb books—”

“But you don’t snatch souls or eat them!” She sat up, knocking his book back. He huffed as he lowered his arm. She perched on his stomach. “People are scared of you!”

“There are worst things,” he said in a lackadaisical tone. Since he couldn’t read, he swiveled his head in his chin to look out at the living room. He tapped his sharp nails against his cheek pensively.

“But Dad—”

“Hattie, it doesn’t bother me,” he interrupted, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t you have something you were in the middle of? The whole Snatcher thing doesn’t matter. It’s not worth getting worked up over.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line to keep from pouting.

“But why doesn’t it bother you?” she tried once more after a moment.

“Kid, that’s enough.” He wiggled his arm trapped behind her back to coax her off. “Go run along.” He suddenly sucked in a breath and covered a noisy yawn. The creases under his eyes deepened as the shadows stretched away from the light.

Hattie deflated.

“Fine,” she grumbled, scooting forward.

He grunted when she leapt off his stomach, but his focus returned to reading without another comment.

Hattie retrieved his hairdryer and returned to her bathroom, where the prince doll remained drenched. She turned the setting to no heat and plugged it in. While the drone of the hairdryer filled the bathroom, she zoned out.

All this time, she had been trying to shelter her dad from the rumors but apparently, she was the only one who cared that people thought he could suck souls out with his fangs like some sort of vampire who loved to sunbathe and didn’t mind garlic.

“It’s not fair,” she muttered under the whirling hairdryer. She glared down at the faceless prince doll. His mitten hand fluttered precariously while the gash in his bicep caught air and caused his arm to fluff up like it had stuffing again.

Her features softened as she carefully tilted the dryer back and forth.

She would rather her dad wasn’t upset by the rumors, which is why she waited so long to say anything, but somehow it felt lonelier than ever when she was the only one who cared.

With a slight slouch, she turned the dryer away and then carefully rolled the doll onto his stomach. She finished drying him out and placed him on a fresh towel while she cleaned up. And though she passed her dad as he returned from the kitchen with a steaming mug while she was on her way to the laundry room, he didn’t question her bundle of towels under his hairdryer.

Her step gained an enthusiastic bounce when she was finally ready to fix the doll. She carried him back to her workbench and gingerly set him down. For reference, she carefully pried the old storybook from her shelf and opened to the most crinkled set of pages, worn from love and constant rereads under her covers at night.

“Here it is, Prince!” She presented the first illustration of the kindly character with puffy sleeves greeting bluebirds, bunnies, and deer. She winced at the doll’s blank face. “Whoops. You can’t see. But don’t worry! I’ll fix that!”

She propped the book back against the worktable and used the beret and open sewing kit to pin it open. After she grabbed a handful of stuffing from her reserves in one of the drawers, found a button to match his eye, and sorted through the spools she’d need, she finally sat down.

Now that the doll was clean, his vibrant crimson coat and purple boots looked just like the illustration. But the blush on his cheeks had faded and one of the stitches meant to look like laces on his boots had frayed. With steady hands familiar with detail work from all her hat making, she looped thread through a sharp needle and got to work.

Fixing the boot and resewing the buttons was a bit tricky, but once the prince had his eyes again, his blank features regained the warmth she remembered. She stuck her tongue out as she restuffed his arms. At first, she wondered if she could add a little muscle definition but no matter how she finagled the lumps, she couldn’t get them to look right.

“Sorry, you’re stuck with noodles for arms,” she lamented dramatically, tugging out the extra fluff.

His large button eyes stared at the ceiling.

The final challenge was stitching his hand back on, and only because the mitten hand was so tiny. She struggled to keep it in place as she threaded the needle through his wrist. After having to backtrack and redo the area a couple times, she eventually got the hand snuggly back into place. The stitches lined his wrist, mostly concealed by the edges of his sleeve.

Then, she only needed to close the tear in his bicep and was able to hide the work under the gold band of his puffy shoulder. Once she placed the scissors down after snipping the final thread, she leaned back with an exhale. As she stretched out her back, she appraised her work.

“How do you feel?” she asked, cupping the prince doll and giving his arm and wrist a few squeezes. When she tapped his button eyes to ensure they remained firmly in place, she glanced up at the illustration to compare. She jolted.

“Your crown!” She whirled around, looking for the dull accessory that had popped off during the cleaning. Her head snapped down and she heaved a sigh of relief when she noticed it had fallen onto her carpet.

She grabbed the felt crown and procured a piece of scrap cloth leftover from the bright yellow beret she intended to give to her dad when it was finished. Snipping the dull crown to flatten it out, she traced its pattern on the scrap fabric. After she cut it out, she glued the edges together, careful to keep it seamless as she held the ends with tweezers.

“Perfect!” She held the new crown next to the prince’s head. She found a lump near the base of the yarn hair where the other crown had been glued previously and glued on the new crown its place. Once the glue had dried and the crown remained fastened to his head, Hattie beamed at her work.

“You look perfect!” She leapt to her feet, hugging the doll to her chest. “Let’s show you to Dad!” She darted over to the living room, shouts of excitement welling from her pride, but she skidded to a stop when she found him fast asleep on the couch.

She heaved out a sigh that dissolved into a blown raspberry.

Oh well.

Since even the book flopped open on his chest visibly quivered from his shivering, she crossed over to the wicker basket filled with throws and blankets and grabbed his favorite from the top. She dragged it over him with one hand, but when she reached the book with pages folding at odd angles, she looked from the blanket pinched in one hand and the prince doll cradled in the other.

“Watch him for me for a second,” she whispered to the prince, dropping the blanket and trading him for the book.

Her dad flinched in his sleep at the sudden shift, but she was too busy locating his bookmark on the coffee table to notice. After guessing where he left off, she placed the closed book next to his mug, which still had a puddle of coffee. She turned back around to find her dad twitching.

“Dad?” She reached out but recoiled at how much heat he radiated.

While his eyes remained squeezed shut, his chest jerked under the limp doll. Panicked panting gripped his restless slumber but before Hattie could try to wake him, he turned to his side, flinging the doll away as he twisted. Hattie bent to catch the prince as her dad’s breathing slowly returned to a calmer pace.

She placed the doll back on the table, fretting as she watched her dad’s tight brows relax. His long, spiky black hair tumbled over his sweaty features, but once his exhales fluttered out like a flickering ember, he began shivering again. Hattie crinkled her nose, holding the back of her hand to his forehead covered by hair and then to his clawed fingers.

Almost like ice.

Unsure whether she wanted to wake him after that, she tugged the blanket the rest of the way and watched him for a few seconds longer. He usually felt colder at night, often kindling the image of a campfire dwindling as those around it slept, but his sudden spike in temperature concerned her.

Was he getting sick?

A few more moments passed, and he remained steady. Hattie gnawed on her lip but decided not to worry. If she woke him up when nothing was wrong, he’d just get grumpy. She’d make sure to check on him later, though.

When grabbing the prince doll, she found it trembled in her palm. She tried to meter her own breathing to soothe herself, thinking her dad’s temperature spike had left her more shaken than she realized. She calmed enough to stop shivering after nestling the doll into the plush pile next to her pillow. But as she walked away to get ready for bed, she did not realize that the prince doll continued to tremble on his own.

Slowly, and like a heartbeat that just remembered its pulse.

#a hat in time #ahit prince #ahit snatcher #ahit hat kid #ahit dadtcher #build-a-bear au #my writing #friend art #smieska-draws #smieska #*Jessie's song from toy story 2 plays in the distance*#'so the years went by~ i stayed the same~'#'i was left alone...'#i love this au for all the accidental toy story refs we can squeeze in #but also when somebody loved me is just a prince song... look deep into your heart... you know its true #ANYWAY I LOVE THIS ART SO MUCH GO GIVE SMIESKA ALL THE LOVE #THIS IS IT!!! THIS IS THE PIECE THAT INSPIRED ME SO MUCH I HAD TO WRITE THE MOONJUMPER BIT ;O;#LITERALLY HAD IT OPEN ON ONE SIDE OF THE SCREEN WITH THE WORD DOCUMENT ON THE OTHER #DOLL PRINCE IS JUST SO CUTE!!!!!! LOOK AT HIS LIL ROUNDED TOESES #LOOK AT THAT DETAIL ON THE SLEEVES AND THAT EMBROIDERED HEART #HIS LIL BUTTON EYES AND HIS YARN HAIR!!!!!#THE COWLICK STICKING OUT OF THE CROWN!!!!! ITS INCREDIBLE AND DARLING AND I LOVE HIM #HIS MITTEN HANDS!!!!!!!!#I WANNA GENTLY HOLD HIM #okay i'll stop crying now but seriously GO SHOWER SMIESKA WITH LOVE AND ADORATION AND ALL THE FELT HEARTS

132 notes · View notes

existslikepristin · 4 years ago

Text

A Two-on-One Match

Part 2 of 3 of the OC Jung Hyunjin's arc. A request from Rex [of the ever-changing name] I recommend starting with A Quick Fix to follow the plot if you haven't read it already.

Tags: TheLounge, Gfriend, Eunha, SinB, male OC Jung Hyunjin, "oh hey I know you", one dom one sub one clueless boxer, some butt stuff, request

~~~~~

The bell rang to announce Yuta’s departure. He turned back as he walked through the door and waved. “Thanks Hyunjin! Good to meet you!”

“You too man! Enjoy!” Hyunjin waved back. It was his second week working at The Lounge and he was getting to know quite the wide range of people, and the first day he was working the morning shift, now that he was fully finished with his evening training.

A familiar voice came from behind, just at the entrance to the kitchen. “Nice catch. How’d you know Yuta would like the cinnamon sprinkle?” It was Hyunjin’s new boss, Kim Soomin.

“Wish I could tell you Ms. Kim. Honestly I just guessed.”

Soomin shrugged. “We’ll chalk it up to intuition then. Anyway, it seems like you’ve got things handled up here. I’m going to start up the oven for some brownies. Sungho is going to be here in half an hour, but I’ll be right there if you get rushed, alright?”

“You got it, Ms. Kim.”

Hyunjin wasn’t especially worried, since he didn’t imagine they’d be getting that many more customers in so early in the morning. When Soomin was gone, he leaned back against the perfectly clean counter and pulled out his phone.

Sowon had told him she was an idol, but he still hadn’t bothered to look up her music. It seemed to him that while he was waiting for customers was as good a time as any. He opened up his default browser and tapped in her name. A second later, his phone was flooded with pictures of Sowon in a variety of outfits, generally much fancier than what he usually saw her in. In the sidebar, her real name appeared, as well as the company she worked for and the group she was part of. “Gfriend,” rung a bell in Hyunjin’s head, at least, though he had no clue if he’d actually heard any of their music before. Maybe at a convenient store while he wasn’t paying attention?

He tapped the link to change the search to Gfriend. The images that showed up were far more zoomed out than before. He could pick out Sowon’s face among the six women in each picture, but immediately scrolled down and saw their names. He nodded his head and kept going down the list. Jung Yerin was next. No clue who she was. Then Jung Eunbi, also known as Eunha. That name sounded somehow familiar to him, but he continued to read. Choi Yuna, also known as Yuju…

He was interrupted by the bell ringing. He bounced away from the counter and popped his phone back into his pocket. Looking up, he saw two women had entered. One of them took off to the side toward the lounge chairs right away, but the other one approached the counter. She walked normally at first, but slowed down when she and Hyunjin’s eyes met.

“H-hyunjin?” she asked.

Hyunjin hesitated to respond. He pulled his phone back out and looked at the images still on the screen. “Do you go by Eunha?”

Eunha nodded slowly. “Yeah… Were you in drama club in middle school?”

“I was.”

There was a long pause.

“Holy shit, Hyunjin! It’s been such a long time! When did you start working here?”

Hyunjin laughed. He knew the name was familiar. “Just a couple of weeks ago. I got referred by Sowon.”

Eunha laughed back. “She and I are in a girl group together!”

“I literally just found that out! I was looking you guys up! See?” Hyunjin held out his phone.

“Woah! Yeah! How are you doing these days?”

The two took some time to reminisce and catch up. Despite the initial moment of not recognizing each other, they quickly remembered their connection. They had grown up in the same neighborhood, and recalled a variety of events they had gone to together as children. Eunha was a year above him in school, but had encouraged him to participate in drama. The Lounge continued to stay effectively empty the whole time. Hyunjin told Eunha about how he and Sowon met and how he ended up there, and about how he was training again to fight. Eunha told him about the rest of Gfriend, and how the other woman she entered with was Umji.

To avoid making Umji wait too much longer, Hyunjin took Eunha’s order and got to work. He was all smiles. When he brought their coffee to them, he included a napkin with his phone number on it and invited Eunha to the fight, but couldn’t continue to chat with the other customers that began to pour in, the bell going wild.

* * *

The bell went wild. It was the end of the last round. Hyunjin wiped at his nose with his arm. His opponent backed off and the two bumped their gloves together. Hyunjin wasn’t especially happy with the turnout. It had been far too long since he’d stepped in a ring, and it showed. That wasn’t going to stop him from being a good sport though. He kept a smile on.

Fortunately, the referee still held his arm up in the end. “... by split decision: Jung Hyunjin!”

The crowd cheered. Whether it was for Hyunjin or not, he couldn’t really tell. The crowd wasn’t exactly huge, and the two fighters nobody had heard of (it was only his opponent’s second official match) in a small venue didn’t exactly have a fanbase yet. Hyunjin couldn’t pick any familiar faces out of the crowd either.

His disappointment was quickly abated by who he saw while making his way to the locker room. Dressed in frumpy, nondescript sweatshirts and hats, Eunha and another girl Hyunjin barely recognized from Gfriend’s group pictures as SinB caught him right at the doorway.

“Hey! We were hiding out in the back row. Congrats!”

Hyunjin ran his fingers through his hair. “Thanks. I was rusty though.”

“Rusty? What do you mean? You were great!”

SinB tapped Eunha on the arm. “No, he’s right. They both looked like amateurs.”

Hyunjin grimaced, but before he could say anything, Eunha grabbed him by the arm. “Hey, let’s go in there, where it’s not so noisy! I can barely hear you two!”

She wasn’t wrong. When the door closed behind them, the lack of noise was a relief.

“So yeah,” SinB started, “what I was saying is that he’s right. They loo--”

Eunha silenced her with a strict look. “SinB...” is all she said, and it was all she needed.

SinB averted her eyes and a blush crossed her cheeks. “It’s um… Nice to meet you, Hyunjin. My name’s SinB.”

Hyunjin smirked. “Hey, good meeting you too. Don’t worry about the fight though. I used to be a lot better. I’m just out of practice. I’ll be starting regular training again next week.”

“You really did do great though,” Eunha said, “I mean, you had to, right? You won.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m just being critical of myself. But anyway, thanks for coming! I really appreciate the support.”

“Of course! Just think of us as your first fans?” Eunha ended with a questioning tone, but followed up quickly. “Actually, let’s not be fans yet. It’s weird for fans to take you out to dinner.”

“Dinner, huh? I’d like that. I need to get washed up first. Pretty sure I’ve still got some blood in my mouth.”

“Totally, yeah! We’ll just, uh, wait here.”

Hyunjin gave a nod and went to the locker room. He could hear Eunha hushedly giving SinB an earful the whole way.

Undressing was a bit painful. Hyunjin had taken a particularly strong hit to one of his left ribs, and now that he could see the site of the impact, he could already tell it would be bruising. He hoped it wasn’t broken.

As he made his way to the open showers, he could hear Eunha and SinB again. They sounded like they were close to the locker room. There wasn’t a door to block the sound though, so he didn’t think much of it, but he knew something was up when he heard footsteps over the sound of the running water. Nobody else should be on this half of the building except his coach, who he hadn’t even informed of the fight. He quickly covered his dick with his hands and turned to the entrance.

And there was SinB, blushing furiously, looking straight up at the ceiling. “H-hey, Hyunjin. I’m sorry.”

“Um. Well, cool. Apology accepted. But is this really the--”

Hyunjin cut himself off as Eunha brushed past SinB. But unlike SinB, she was completely undressed. She walked toward him, small breasts bouncing with each step, getting soaked as she went directly through the spray of the showers. He started to smile, but noticed and quickly got rid of it. “Eunha, you’re…”

“I’m here to help you get cleaned up,” she finished his sentence for him, though it wasn’t what he was intending to say. “We can get to the restaurant sooner this way, right?”

Eunha grabbed a bar of soap from one of the little shelves along the wall and stopped just short of Hyunjin, who had lost all hope of being able to hide his erection. Not that Eunha seemed to mind, or even pay any attention. But it’s what she said next that made her intentions much, much clearer.

“You and Sowon aren’t exclusive, right?”

“No. I suppose we’ve been very clear that we aren’t.” Hyunjin took a hand away from his crotch to rub the back of his neck.

Eunha put a hand on Hyunjin’s arm, pointing at his neck. “Oh no. Are you feeling sore?” She gestured toward a stool. “Let me give you a massage. SinB!”

Hyunjin watched, half afraid and half mesmerized, as SinB quickly undressed and tossed all of her clothes back into the locker room. He let Eunha pull him down to sit on the stool she dragged underneath the stream of the shower. “I don’t really need a massage. It’s okay.”

“That’s good to hear! I’ll just get started on washing you up then. In the meantime, can you do me a favor?”

“Uh… Sure?”

While sitting on the stool, Hyunjin was just barely shorter than Eunha, which let her lean down to whisper in his ear. Her tone made it clear she was asking a question. “Let SinB practice on you?”

Hyunjin’s eyes went wide. “So Eunha, I don’t mean to sound like a perv here, but are you implying something about practicing a blowjob? Because I’ll take that.”

Eunha motioned for SinB to approach. “No, no. Why would you think that?” she asked, clearly twitching at the corner of her mouth as she tried not to smile. She slowly pulled Hyunjin’s other hand away from his full-mast dick.

In no time at all, SinB was standing in front of Hyunjin, hair getting drenched by the shower, hands behind her back, and eyes anywhere but on him. With a little difficulty, she moved to straddle his lap. The width of her legs put her bare pussy dangerously close to his cock.

Sure he knew where the situation was taking them, Hyunjin shifted his legs, pushing SinB’s a little farther apart. The head of his dick speared her. He watched as her chest rose and fell rapidly. She used her hands to brace herself on his shoulders. He wanted to make a snarky comment, but was having difficulty coming up with anything good. He was also distracted by the feeling of something hard against his cock. He reached around SinB and grabbed her butt. As his fingers explored, he was able to verify immediately that she had a butt plug inside of her.

“This is an interesting night,” he said simply.

Just then, Hyunjin felt Eunha pressing her front up against his back. Her skin glided over his, as if it was (and it was) covered in soap. At the same time, SinB lowered herself further onto his dick in a jerking, twitching way.

“I don’t know what you mean. Is something unusual, Hyunjin?” Eunha asked as she rubbed her tits and stomach up and down his back.

Hyunjin’s sarcasm struggled its way out of his throat as SinB started fucking him, bouncing herself and making a beautiful, wet scene of her slim body. “Not at all…” Hyunjin said, “Perfectly normal Wednesday night.”

Eunha couldn’t contain her giggle. She ran her soapy hands over Hyunjin’s shoulders, arms, and whatever parts of his legs she could reach with SinB in the way. He winced a little when she swept over his new bruise, but otherwise did his best not to react.

“How do you like SinB’s pussy?”

Hyunjin groaned. His grip on SinB’s asscheeks tightened subconsciously. He had to unclench his teeth to say, “It’s alright.”

“Hear that, SinB? Just alright. Maybe a bit amateurish.”

SinB’s shoulders tensed up visibly. “I said I was sorry…”

Eunha walked around to the shelves on the wall to pull a bottle of shampoo off. The close up view of Eunha’s plump, naked, wet ass just about set Hyunjin off. She was obviously arching her back just enough to make it noticeable.

“Damn, Eunha. I always admired your butt when you were my senior, but now… fuck…”

She turned to look at Hyunjin over her shoulder. “Oh thank you! Sounds like you’re thinking about cumming?”

Hyunjin nodded. With no hesitation at all, Eunha set the shampoo back down and pulled a visibly shocked SinB off of his cock. He was shocked too, about ready to ask why Eunha would do such a thing, but found his answer right away.

Eunha, facing away from Hyunjin, positioned herself between his legs and spread her ass with one hand, and grabbed his cock with the other. She directed it to an unexpected target, and Hyunjin’s breath caught in his throat as he was hilted completely in Eunha’s asshole.

“Now you can cum,” she said.

Hyunjin didn’t need to be told twice. He barely needed to be told once. His orgasm hit him harder than his opponent did in the ring. He grabbed Eunha’s hips and held her down against him as he pumped a gigantic load into her ass.

He brushed his hair back, suddenly light headed, feeling like his soul had just been pulled out of him through his cock. He saw SinB sitting back against the wall, still blushing bright red, masturbating as she stared between Eunha’s legs at the spot where Hyunjin was impaling her.

“So then,” Eunha said casually, despite having an ass full of Hyunjin’s dick and cum, “Did you want anything special for dinner? I have an idea if you don’t!”

Hyunjin smiled. He was still trying to comprehend what just happened, but he was happy with it, even if the intensity of his climax left him with the sound of a bell ringing in his ears.

#gfriend smut #kpop smut #male oc #eunha #sinb #request

111 notes · View notes

headheartbellarke · 4 years ago

Text

Paper Rings | OWEN JOYNER

Requested by anon: “Owen request? A series of events that leads Owen to finally working up the courage to propose to his girlfriend?” PAIRING(s): Owen Joyner x fem!reader WARNING(s): some language, mentions of abuse, panic attack, anxiety, and fluff haha WORDS: 3.7k SUMMARY: Five times Owen almost asks his girlfriend to marry him, and one time he actually does.

Charlie looks around, feeling out of place amongst the big mirrors, bright lights, and the sparkling diamonds. When his best friend, Owen, told him that he wanted a ‘guys night’ (he’s still unsure as to why he wants to have one: they live together, it’s guys’ night every night – he was expecting bars, or clubs, or fancy restaurants; things they don’t get to do every night, because of work. But he definitely wasn’t expecting to be dragged into a jewellery store.

“O, buddy, what are we doing here?”

Owen shushes him, walking ahead to a counter. A woman with kind eyes greets him. “Mr. Joyner!”

He smiles, familiarity pooling in his eyes.

Charlie frowns. He didn’t expect Owen to be into jewellery – sure, he buys stuff for his sister and mother, but he always takes them with him.

He thinks of Y/N, Owen’s girlfriend of about five years – there’s a possibility that he may be buying something for her, but it’s highly unlikely. Y/N has been pretty vocal about the fact that she hates diamonds, and who’s to blame her, really? Her father used to buy her mother a diamond necklace after every time he hit her or when he came home smelling of another woman’s perfume.

Charlie exclaims, “Owen! I’m gonna die if you don’t tell me what’s going on!”

“I know, I know.” He shushes him, again, and Charlie feels like a child, even though he’s older than the blonde boy. Owen turns to the woman in front of him, Miranda, as her name tag reads, and says, “I hope it’s ready.”

She nods, excitedly. “Yes! I have it right here with me.”

She disappears beneath the counter, and Charlie expects her to return with a big box, like a magician’s apprentice. But, instead, she emerges with a small, tiny box and he wonders –

As realization dawns upon him, he feels a rush of euphoria. “Oh my god, are you –”

Owen nods, his face aglow with anticipation, hope and adoration. “I – I walked into this store a couple of weeks ago, after I decided that I wanted to marry her, I mean, I’ve known it for a while, you know? I can’t see myself being with anyone but her for the rest of my life, and I want a family with her. She’s my soulmate, dude. And I – I think it’s the right time, too. She’s got that amazing job, and my career’s going great, so, yeah. I wanna marry her.”

Charlie sniffs, feeling tears at the back of his eyes. “Bro.”

His friend grins. “Bro.”

Charlie pulls him into a hug, but Owen pushes him away, and they swat each other’s hands for a second before Owen whisper shouts, “Do you wanna see the ring or not?!”

Charlie’s eyes widen and he nods. They turn to the woman in front of them, and she points to the box placed on the counter before them. “If you’re ready.”

Owen nods, and Charlie feels amazed at the determination clouding his irises. He opens the box, and the Canadian boy gasps.

Inside sits a simple platinum ring. Except at the middle, there’s a diamond shaped like a star. It’s so beautifully built, every edge looking like they’re fit to cut steel. And the entire ring – it’s so simple, yet beautiful, and Charlie knows why he picked it.

It’s a mirror of the way Owen sees Y/N – something gorgeous, something priceless, something elegant, yet something so simple to him, and something that will always makes sense, no matter what.

Owen inhales, staring at his reflection in the full body length mirror in front of him. He’s going to do it today – he is going to ask his best friend, his soulmate and the love of his life to marry him. He has planned it all – even Charlie went out with the rest of the cast tonight to give the twenty-three-year-olds some privacy. (Charlie, Y/N, and Owen live together in Vancouver, at least while shooting the fourth season of Julie and The Phantoms, so, as one can guess, it’s really difficult to get a moment alone – but since the both of them love Charlie so fucking much, they don’t really mind.)

He straightens his tie and hears soft footsteps in the hallway outside his room. Y/N’s head pokes in, her face lit up like Christmas lights.

“Don’t you look sharp!” She says, while walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his torso. Owen smiles, catching her eyes in the reflection. “Are the bad puns ever going to stop?”

She gasps, dramatically, and exclaims, “You don’t gotta be so mean about it!”

He shakes his head, and feels love swell in his chest for the woman behind him. “I love you so much, you know that, right?”

A mischievous glint appears in her eyes. “I could use a reminder.”

Owen grins, turning backwards and cups her face in his hands, about to kiss her, when a voice stops him.

“I think I just broke the coffee machine!”

Y/N’s eyes widen, and she yells, “You did what?!”

Owen’s brows furrow. “Is that –”

She casts him an apologetic glance. “Zoe, yeah. I forgot to tell you, but Cece had to go out last minute, so I offered to watch her for the evening!”

Usually, Owen loves kids, especially Y/N’s cousins like Zoe, but right now, he feels like jumping off a cliff. She seems to sense that as she runs her hands down his arms, and says, “I’m sorry! I know you said that tonight was gonna be just us, but you love Zoe, don’t you? And it’s gonna be fun, I promise!”

It’s not. Owen had booked a table at Y/N’s favorite restaurant in Vancouver, and he would have proposed midway through the dinner, when the musicians there would start to play ‘Love Story’ by Taylor Swift, and when they got to the bridge, he would have dropped to a knee.

Ignoring the weight in his chest, he plasters a smile on his face. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry, I just – it’s been a while since we’ve been alone, you know? With work and all. But I’m sure it’s gonna be great with Zoe, too!”

She nods. “Thank you. We can go out alone next week when Charlie has that photoshoot with Madi!”

He nods. “Absolutely.”

The little black box stays hidden in the pocket of the beige coat in his closet that he never wears.

As Y/N smiles at him, Owen thinks that this is it. This is the moment he’s gonna ask her to marry him.

As the light from the fire illuminates her face, he thinks about how perfect this weekend has been. After long days, and even longer nights of filming, they finally got a weekend off, and Charlie immediately booked a cabin in North Vancouver.

And there’s no one better at planning trips than Charlie.

Along with Owen, Y/N, and Charlie; Madison, Jadah, Jeremy and his wife, Carolynn, Savannah, Sacha, and Tori are here, too, everyone basking in the peace. Throughout the weekend, they’ve done anything and everything they can do in snow – from skiing, to making snow angels, and finally, as the shades of evening rolled on the last day of their trip, they are tired.

After dinner, everyone wordlessly returned to their rooms, and Owen knows that they’re all fast asleep, right now – except Y/N, who is still as bubbly as champagne.

When they returned to their room, Y/N quickly lit the fire – because no matter if it’s snowing or if it’s fifty degrees outside – she is always freezing.

It’s the opposite in Owen’s case, though – he’s always warm, and that’s why Y/N wasted no time to settle in his lap.

Owen quickly pats his pocket to check if the ring’s still there. It is, and it’s been there for the whole weekend. He’s been searching for opportunities, but they were always either with someone, or it wasn’t a good time.

“O?” She asks, her voice soft.

“Hmm?” He replies, threading his fingers through her hair.

Her eyes brighten up, putting the fire in front of them to shame. “I’ve just had an idea.”

“Later. First, I have something to ask you.” He says, his hand reaching into his pocket again.

She smiles. “I know what you’re gonna ask.”

Owen’s surprised. “You do?”

She nods excitedly. “Yeah. Charlie told me!”

He must have had a horrified look on his face because her eyes widen quickly. “Oh, he didn’t want to, believe me! But, now that I know, tell me, when are you gonna do it?”

Owen stammers, suddenly feeling breathless in this room. The anxiety starts to pool in his stomach, along with an anger, directed towards Charlie. “I – I – I can’t believe he told you this…”

She shrugs. “You know that he can’t hide anything from me. He’s like the brother I never asked for. Anyway, so he was showing me some of the designs, and I love you, but I don’t think you can handle a tooth piercing.”

Owen’s brows furrow. “What?”

“Like, totally no offence, but you passed out when the dentist came to do a routine check up on your teeth. I don’t wanna imagine what would happen if you got them pierced.”

“What are talking about?!”

“Charlie and your matching piercings, dummy! What else would I be talking about?” She looks at him as if he’s grown a third head.

Owen’s lips part. “We are not getting matching piercings – I wasn’t gonna ask you that!”

“Oh!” Her eyes widen. “What were you gonna ask, then?”

He gulps, thinking to himself – this is it. This is it. This is it.

“Do you wanna go home for New Year’s?”

He mentally curses when that question comes out of his mouth, and even with Y/N’s bright smile, he starts to feel queasy inside, knowing that he still isn’t confident enough to actually ask her.

Owen wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans and stands up. “Y/N, I have to tell you something.”

She nods, her eyes sweeping across the mostly empty LA beach. He brought her here today to finally ask her to marry him – his past attempts have been nothing short of disastrous.

As he opens his mouth, he feels a pang in his heart, and his mind starts to race. All kinds of thoughts race through his mind, like – what if she says no? what if she hates him for ruining what they have? What if Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift becomes his most relatable song? What if she –

Y/N stands up, and her hand finds that of Owen’s, a reassurance, and he knows that she can sense his anxiety. She doesn’t ask him to talk about it – she knows that he will, eventually, when he’s ready. For now, she shows him that she’s here for him, and somehow that is enough.

As she brushes his hair, his mind starts to calm down, his erratic breathing slowing down and involuntarily matching the pace of her breathing. She whispers, softly, “You’re okay. You’re safe. Everything is okay. You’re okay. I love you. I love you –”

She keeps repeating that, until it’s like a mantra in Owen’s head, turning the racing thoughts to mere background noise.

He opens his eyes, and looks into hers, and finally feels calm. He exhales. “That… uh....”

She nods, comfort flooding through her eyes. “I know, baby. But it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

He shakes his head, taking his hand in hers. “I – I – I think that maybe you and I should, uh, get – um, matching tattoos. Yeah. That’s what I wanted to ask you.” He lies.

She nods enthusiastically. “Yes! Of course. You don’t even have to ask – we’ve always talked about it, and I think that now is the perfect time! Do you wanna –”

As Y/N talks about designs, he thinks that he’s a fucking coward.

As Owen laughs, he feels confident, for once. He knows that tonight he’ll be able to ask her to marry him, especially in front of all his family – he loves his family, and so does Y/N and vice versa. He remembers the first time he brought her home three months after they’d started dating. He remembers feeling absolutely euphoric about the fact that she fit right in with his family. That was also the day that she had told him, for the first time, that she loves him.

He looks around the table, and watches Y/N talk animatedly to his mother. His parents think of her as their own daughter, especially after finding out about her rocky relationship with her father. Y/N’s mother sits next to Owen, and he loves how carefree she looks – her ex-husband, really, was an asshole.

He takes the little box out of his pocket, and his cousin, Elias, gasps. “Is that an engagement ring?” He whispers, his face scrunching as if the sentence left a bad taste in his mouth.

Owen nods. “Yes. Elias, I would appreciate it if you kept it down.”

His cousin raises his hands. “Always, homie.”

He rolls his eyes. “Right.”

Elias looks around. “Hey, do you think that it’s a good idea to propose now?”

“What do you mean?” Owen’s brows furrow.

“I mean people do it in private for a reason. What if she says no and then you get embarrassed in front of your entire family and hers? It’s sympathetic looks for the rest of your life, bro. And your parents wouldn’t be able to talk to her, nor to her mom, ‘cause it’d be, ya know, friggin’ embarrassing. Everyone’s probably gonna hate you.”

Owen’s eyes widen, and he toys with the truth in his cousin’s words. Elias shrugs, and takes a sip of his water. “But it’s up to you, dude.”

Slowly, Owen slides the ring back into his pocket.

Owen looks around, checking if any distractions could be in this room. None. How could it, though? He’s standing in an empty classroom, in the middle of winter break. Nobody in their right minds would be here.

Well, that would mean that Owen’s not in his right mind. To be really, really, really honest – he is kind of losing it. He has been trying to propose to Y/N for the past month, but every time – every god damn time, something comes up and ruins everything.

So, he decided to break into his middle school. Well, ‘break into’ isn’t the right phrase – he asked the guard to give him the keys for the night, and even thanked him with a hundred dollar note. Unlike his girlfriend, he’s incapable of breaking rules.

The guard thought that it was very romantic of him, but really, he’s just tired and wants to get married already. He taps his foot anxiously, and finally hears the door opening, signalling Y/N’s arrival.

God, she looks absolutely adorable. Her nose is crimson from the cold, and she is bundled under what seems to be ten layers of clothing. She huffs, grinning when she notices him.

“Are we here to make out? Because your house was much more comfortable and so, so warm.”

Owen shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Well, are you gonna murder me, O? Because, well, it’s certainly the perfect location.”

“I have to tell you something.” He says, taking a step toward her. He looks around and sees that there is nothing that could possibly ruin this moment, and smiles brightly, preparing himself. Y/N’s eyes gleam with anticipation, as she nods for him to continue.

“Y/N, I still remember the day that I met you. I remember the way you smiled at me even though I had spilled black coffee all over you and ruined your very pretty, white dress.”

She laughs. “I was really mad at first, yeah. But the cutest boy in all of Oklahoma was in front of me, and well, you know that I was a goner.”

He smiles fondly. “And the beautifulest girl in the world was in front of me.”

“That’s not a word.”

“I know. And then you laughed at my dumb jokes, and even agreed to go on a date with me.”

“To compensate for that absolutely gorgeous dress.” She clarifies, a teasing smile on her face.

He grins sheepishly. “And then somehow, somewhere we fell in love, and somehow, you became my other half, and somehow, I can’t imagine a world without you. I don’t want to. You are my best friend, and you are the one person around whom I can be completely myself and face no judgements.”

“No, I do judge you. You’re a little questionable.”

“And what would I do without your wicked sense of humour?”

“Honestly? You’d be lost without me. I mean, you forget to even put your socks in the washing machine.”

“You’re not supposed to wash them. They go on your feet. Obviously.”

“That is disgusting, and you know it.”

He laughs. “I wanna be with you for the rest of my life, and I… I… I want a family with you, you know? I know that we’ve never talked about this, and I don’t know how you would feel about one, but still, if you’re up for it, I’m too. But, if you don’t, that’s okay, too. More than okay.”

For a moment, an unrecognizable expression crosses her face, and he wonders if he’s hurt her. But then the biggest smile blooms on her face.

“We should have talked about this. But I would like a family with you, too. I mean, I’ve never really wanted one, and you know why. But, after seeing you and your family, I realized that a part of me does want it. I do want to have the home that I never got to have with you and I wanna do better. I know that you’ll be an amazing dad, and I wanna raise my kid the way that kids should be raised. And I want it with no one else but you.”

Owen feels as if he’s on cloud nine, and he stares at her for a moment, wondering how lucky he is to find a girl like her. He says, “Y/N, I –”

Before he can ask her the question, though, her ringtone cuts through the silence of the empty classroom. She whispers an apology and takes her phone out from her jeans pocket.

She accepts the call and speaks into the phone. “Hey, Luka, what’s up? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Luka, slow down.”

She exchanges a panicked look with Owen.

Speaking of Owen, he’s losing it. Absolutely. He was so close. And for the first time, he had both confidence and hope. And something had to happen. He starts to feel annoyed at Luka, his sister, and then immediately feels bad about it, but then starts to feel annoyed again.

“Oh no, you did what? Do you need me to come?”

At Y/N’s last sentence, Owen bursts out. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Y/N raises her brows at him. He feels anger replacing all his emotions, anger towards the world, it’s timings, and mostly, towards himself.

Sensing his rage, Y/N gives him a weird look. “What is wrong with you?” She whispers.

“Everything. Everything is wrong!” He whispers back.

He starts to feel breathless, and the familiar sensation of a panic attack starts to overcome him. He looks around, trying to focus on something, anything, when he spots the door.

He looks at his girlfriend, and says, “I love you, but I’m gonna lose it.” With that, he walks by her, and out the doors, while she yells after him.

+1.

It’s been twenty minutes since he last talked to Y/N, and he has lost all hope. He’s now sitting on a park bench a couple of minutes away from the school, and he is listing all the reasons why his life is absolutely shit.

“Hey, you okay?”

Owen looks up, and notices Y/N walking up to the bench, with a concerned look in her eyes.

“I – I just… I’ve been trying to ask you something, Y/N, for the past month. And every time I try to do it, I’m either interrupted, or I’m not confident enough. And, today, there were no distractions, and I was finally feeling confident and hopeful and then my sister decides to ruin it – is she okay, by the way?”

She nods and sits down beside him. “Yeah, she misplaced her dress for tonight.”

He grits his teeth in annoyance. He loves her, but his sister has the worst timing.

Y/N rests a hand on his, an odd look taking over her features. “You should know by now that the answer will always, and obviously be a yes.”

Owen sharply turns towards her. “What?”

A brilliant smile makes its way onto her face. “You are gonna propose, aren’t you?”

A gasp involuntarily escapes him. “How’d you know?”

“Well, you just said some pretty nice things about me. Also, I can see the outline of the ring box, and you keep checking your pocket for it every two minutes, even if you don’t realize it. You’re literally doing it right now.”

In his defence, he wasn’t, or rather, isn’t consciously doing it. He slowly retracts his hand from his pocket and gives her a sheepish smile.

She stands up. “Really, O, are you gonna do it or not –”

“Yep, yep, yep.” He clears his throat and stands in front of her and drops to a knee. He takes the ring out, and flips open the box, and as the diamond’s reflected light dances across her face, Y/N gasps.

“Oh my god, that’s gorgeous!”

He grins. “I have great taste.”

She smiles teasingly. “I know, baby.”

“Will you ma–”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“Someone would’ve probably interrupted you and I couldn’t take the chance of you losing your shit again.”

“You do have a point.”

“I always do.”

He slides the ring onto her finger, and she kneels in front of him to match their heights. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he wraps his around her waist, both desperate to be closer, closer, closer.

“I love you so much.” He whispers into her hair, and she kisses his shoulder.

“I love you. Forever.”

She untangles herself from him, and as she kisses him, Owen realizes that he had no reason to be worried at all.

[MASTERLIST]

reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

390 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

VALERIE - Part V. (Harry Styles)

happy sunday loves!! part 5 is here, buckle up bc we are getting down to business here!! thank you so much for the nice feedbacks, it’s always so moving and inspiring to read your thoughts, so please keep them coming! even if it’s just some gibberish rambling, those are the best haha! now let’s jump right into part 5, we are heading into the christmas mood and im so excited for yall to read this part!! enjoy!

word count: 6.1k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

By the time November nears its end you officially become a couple with Marcus. It happens gradually, two more dates follow your first one, and then on the third one you agree to test the waters of the possibilities between the two of you exclusively.

Marcus is a great guy. He is funny, caring and smart, always listens to you and cares for even the smallest details about you when you’re talking. He is great company and never fails to make you feel appreciated and wanted. Exactly what you’ve been looking for in a guy, Rosa really hit the nail on the head this time.

You easily fall into a habit with him. Fridays are for date nights, sometimes you go for little trips outside the city on Sundays and he never misses a chance to send you flowers throughout the week. He is just the type of guy that’s always there to cheer you up with something whenever the days start to weigh down on your shoulders.

You even have dinner together with Rosa and Steven one Saturday evening, Rosa keeps giving you those ‘I told you so’ eyes whenever Marcus kisses you shortly or places his hand to your waist. You mostly just roll your eyes at her, not wanting to make a big deal out of the two of you, but Rosa knows how long you’ve been trying to find someone.

What’s a surprising turn is that you start seeing Harry more. Intentionally. You have no idea how it happens, but it does and you’re not mad about it. Some days you grab lunch together whenever he is in the neighborhood, some days you go shopping with him when his sister doesn’t have the time. Harry is a problematic shopper, he takes a long time to decide on clothes so usually you are the one that forces him to choose and finish before all shops close.

When he has had a rough week and you happened to call him for whatever reason, the two of you agree to meet up for drinks at his place, then end up playing UNO for hours, slowly emptying out two bottles of wine.

It’s starting to get harder to imagine what it was like when things weren’t like this with him. When you were getting anxiety from just the thought of seeing him or having to talk to him. It’s like the both of you are showing a different version of yourselves to each other and you have to admit you enjoy being friends with him.

He keeps his habit of teasing you and making jokes about you though, but you don’t mind it. He is not doing it in a mean way with the attempt to piss you off, but to make you laugh and start a playful war where you both throw insults at each other until one of you runs out of it and just starts laughing. You feel a kind of dynamic building between you and him that has a way better effect on you than the continuous killing you were doing before.

You can tell Rosa is thankful for the change as well. Whenever she sees you interact with Harry without making a grimace or have that face that screams how badly you want to hit him, she is relieved that she has one less thing to worry about and Valerie will have two amazing godparents who even like each other.

Christmas is always a big parade in your family. Your mom and your aunts always want to celebrate together so in the past few years it has become a tradition to rent a place out that has enough space for the whole extended family and spend three days there from the 23rd to the 25th. This year your dad found a huge cabin in the woods with ten bedrooms and seven bathrooms, just the perfect size for you all. It’s gonna be your parents, Rosa and Steven with Valerie, Aunt Monica, Aunt Teresa with Uncle Andrew, your cousin Etta, her husband Joe and their two kids, your other cousin Lily with her husband Jeremy and their daughter, and lastly you and Harry. Though your mom urged you to invite Marcus along as well, he could join you for longer than a dinner, since he was already set to fly home to his family.

“You sure he can’t stay for at least the first night?” you mom asks on the phone one evening. You’re stirring the sauce in the pan. holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder so you have both of your hands free.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s fine, he can come for dinner and then leave later.”

“I get it, but it would have been fun if he stayed,” she sighs, clearly disappointed that she couldn’t change what’s already set. If you’re being honest you don’t mind that Marcus is not staying for the night. You haven’t been dating for that long, you feel like it would be a little uncomfortable to have him there the whole time. A dinner is perfectly fine as a starter, since he hasn’t met anyone else from your family other than Rosa and Steven.

“Anyway,” she sighs moving on, “Have you figured it out how you’re gonna get there?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’ll tag along with someone.”

“Well, I think you should ask Harry. Everyone else is pretty packed already. Rosa and Steven won’t have any extra space with Valerie this year.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you. These past years Rosa always offered you a ride for the holidays, but even when they brought her over for just one night their car was jam-packed. No way you’re gonna fit in there so you are left with Harry since Marcus can only come in the afternoon.

“Sure, I’ll ask him.”

You shoot him a text that day and he replies right away that you’re welcomed in his car, though he won’t be able to take you back since he is leaving early in the morning on the 25th since he is flying back to the UK to his family. It’s fine, you think, you’ll just probably just tag along with aunt Monica back to the city, she always gets her a car for these occasions. Though it’s not your ideal option, she is not the best partner for rides, because she is a fan of smoking in the car, but you don’t have much of a choice.

“I’ll call you when I leave, okay?” Marcus tells you on the morning of the 23rd. It’s early, barely seven, but he is up because he needs to work a little today and you are finishing up packing since Harry will be here in an hour to pick you up.

“Sure. Drive safe,” you huff sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at your suitcase that’s still not closed, clothes are sticking out on the side and you’re sure you’ll have to sit on it to pull the zipper.

“See you later,” Marcus says before you end the call.

It’s rather comical how you try to close the suitcase but you only care about the fact that you eventually succeed. Only minutes before eight you are packed and ready so when you get Harry’s text that he is outside you can leave right away.

Seeing you with your big suitcase he hops out of the car and rushes to help you.

“How long are you planning to stay, Y/N?” he chuckles lifting the bag up and you just shrug your shoulders with a smirk. You’ve alway been a heavy packer, no need to try to cover it up.

Harry throws your stuff into the back of the car as you take the passenger seat. His phone is hooked to the car, a playlist of his own playing gently through the speakers and you’re surprised to catch on the Christmas feeling in the songs.

“Are you in the spirit?” you ask when he gets into the car.

“Like to set the mood ahead,” he chuckles starting the car and off you go.

Ridiculous to think about it, but it’s actually the first time you sit in the same car with Harry or see him drive even. The way you two used to be was not quite ideal to have you locked up in such a small place as a car. But now you have nothing against spending the almost hour long drive with him.

“Can you pull out the navigation when I leave the highway? I’m not sure where exactly I need to head,” he asks you, eyes fixed on the road ahead of him and nodding you open the app on your phone so his can keep on playing the music without the voice of the navigation interrupting it.

“Excited to spend your first Christmas with us?” you ask. Though Harry was there at several family events, it’s his first Christmas since becoming Valerie’s godfather.

“I am,” he chuckles, nodding, hands gripping the wheel gently. He is a natural driver, easily working the car, the kind you feel completely safe next to. As Baby It’s Cold Outside comes on a smile stretches across your lips as you start gently bop your head to the song. “I’ve heard crazy stuff about Christmases at your family,” he adds glancing in your way for a second.

“Like what?”

“I remember when Steven told me about his first Christmas with your family. You remember that?”

Searching in your memories you tried to remember when was the first time Rosa brought Steven along. They dated for two years before they got married so it’s been about five years since then, but as you think hard the memory of that specific year pops into your head making you laugh as you nod.

“Oh, yes. The year Aunt Monica almost burned the Airbnb down,” you sigh grinning at the memory. She brought some special kind of cigars that year that were told to be curiosities from somewhere fancy, but they ended up the literal worst quality, flaming bits were falling out them all the time when she would smoke one, almost making the rug catch on fire wherever she went. Best thing is that she was already drunk on the liquor so she didn’t even notice, there was always a person on Aunt Monica duty, following her around, making sure nothing burnt down.

“Steven said he had a moment when he thought about bailing,” Harry tells you and you gasp, because that’s new information.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but like only for a split second after your dad walked in on him naked in the bathroom. That was kind of the last straw. Luckily Rosa could convince him to stay. Guess it all worked out at the end.” Harry smiles as he stares ahead of him.

You can’t imagine a version where Rosa and Steven don’t end up together. They met through a mutual friend not long after Rosa had a nasty breakup with her scumbag ex. Steven was there to put her back together and be her partner as she found herself again. The change and positive impact he had on her could be seen every day and you were so thankful to him for helping your sister find her way out of such a dark place in her life. It didn’t take them too long to start dating and he proposed a little more than a year later. You still remember how Rosa was screaming in the phone when she called you that evening telling you that Steven proposed. They are quite literally a match made in heaven. It’s been your goal in life to find this person in your life though you haven’t had much luck with men so far. Ironically, if you were in a room with every man you were ever involved with in any kind of way, Harry would be the only one you’d want to talk with. If you had to make this exact same choice just months ago you would have chosen to run out screaming.

“Maybe this year it’s your turn to get horrified from us,” you laugh, sinking down a little in your seat as you adjust the seat belt. You’re still quite far away from the cabin, you might as well make yourself comfortable.

“I think there’s not much that I haven’t witnessed yet. I was walked in on at the bathroom once too, but it was your cousin, Etta.”

“When did that happen?” you ask with a heartfelt laugh.

“I think it was last summer at one of your nieces’ birthday party. Luckily everything was already tucked away when she basically barged in.”

“She didn’t miss much,” you tease him with a smirk and your witty comment catches him by surprise.

“Are you saying my dick is not imposing enough to be worthy of peeking?” he asks with raised eyebrows and you’re happy he is driving. His intimidating look would already burn right into your skin by now, but he is forced to watch the road instead.

“I mean, if you want to put it that way…” you continue, but a laugh escapes your lips.

“Take that back, Y/N,” he orders, sneaking a hard look at you before turning back ahead, but you can see the small smile hiding on his lips.

“Or what?”

“Or you might find yourself in a war you don’t want to be involved in,” he warns you, but his words don’t quite have the effect on you he wanted. Because in a heartbeat you find yourself feeling… excited? Thrilled? Even curious about his means behind his words.

“Wouldn’t want to lie, so…” Pretending like you’re sorry you shrug your shoulders as Harry gives you a look that makes your stomach churn. Now either you are gonna have some fun teasing each other or… you just threw yourself into the arms of the Devil himself. Either way, you’re certain Harry won’t leave it in that.

Turning your head to your window you can’t keep your smile contained as you think of the fact that how big of a lie it was. Harry is surely not a guy who should ever worry about any aspect of his manhood. You’re talking from experience.

***

The cabin is absolutely gorgeous, just the perfect place for a cozy family holiday. Hidden from the busy roads with a secure gate and tall trees on both sides, the back of it is facing a majestic view of the valley and the evergreen covered hill in the distance. With an interior straight from the pages of a magazine, you need just a few moments to adjust to your surroundings upon arriving.

“I saved a nice room for you, Harry!” your mother gushes the moment she sees the two of you walk through the front door. You huff in annoyance.

“And what about me?”

Harry chuckles giving you a smug grin. “Guess you’re just second after me.”

“It’s his first Christmas with us, he deserves the better room,” your mom shushes at you, making your eyes roll instantly. It’s still hard to believe Harry has this kind of charm over most people.

After greeting everyone who is already there, your dad, Aunt Teresa and Etta with her family, your mom walks the two of you down one of the hallways that leads to several bedrooms. She stops at the last door with an excited grin on her face as she opens it revealing the bedroom behind it.

You instantly understand why she thought this is the best one. The view is absolutely breathtaking, the gentle noon light is flowing into the room through the floor to ceiling windows, the king sized bed facing them so when you wake up in the morning the first thing you see is the endless sea of evergreens on the side of the hill. Not to mention the room has its own bathroom, not many of the other rooms are blessed with that. There’s a spacious shower that has enough space for at least three people in there and it’s one of those fancy ones that can make you feel like you’re having a shower in the middle of a jungle, mood lights and bluetooth speakers attached to it.

“No fucking way Harry is getting this room!” you gasp as you look around, taking in the luxure your mother is willing to hand over to him.

“Jealous, much?” he smirks, throwing his sports bag to the bed already ruining the neatly made sheets. He does not deserve this.

“Mom!” you huff turning to her, but she has made her mind up already.

“Your room is nice too, don’t worry Honey. Let Harry have this one!”

“I really can’t believe you are taking his side,” you grumble under your breath, folding your arms on your chest as you take one last look at the stunning view.

“Come on, Y/N. He is a guest!”

“He is not! You said it yourself he is family now!” you retort and Harry just laughs behind you, so you shoot him a murderous look over your shoulder, that just fuels his entertainment.

“Don’t be silly. Your room is the second one on the right from here,” she smiles at you. “We are gonna take a walk around once everyone arrives, so get settled by then!” she informs you before walking out.

“Hey,” Harry’s soft voice makes you turn around. “You can have the room if you want.”

Your eyebrows rise at the kind gesture, it’s very not like him, even now in your friendly state, so it’s quite odd that he is willing to switch rooms with you.

“No need,” you shake your head grabbing the handle of your suitcase that you abandoned at the door.

“You sure? It doesn’t matter where I’m sleeping, really.”

“I’m not gonna deal with my mother’s scolding if she finds out I took your room, so you can totally stay.”

Harry chuckles as you head out, but stop at the door to have one last word with him. “Though I might occupy your bathroom, that shower looks nice.”

“All yours,” he grins before you walk out.

***

By 11 am everyone arrives and the once quiet cabin is now buzzing from life, children running around, Valerie’s babbling shoots through the spacious living area where Rosa set her crib up, your mother is already making preparations for dinner while most of the men are circled around the pool table having a beer since no one has to drive for the rest of the day.

“When is Marcus arriving?” Rosa asks, eyes on Valerie who is absolutely destroying something that once were an elephant maybe, but she’s been ruthless with the poor animal, chewing and throwing it around all the time, so it’s not just a grey, fuzzy mess.

“Sometime before dinner. He has some work to finish,” you tell her pulling your legs under yourself on the comfy couch.

“And explain again, why isn’t he staying for the night?” she turns to you with a puzzled look.

“Because he is going home to his family early in the morning tomorrow.”

“Okay, but he could have just left from here, didn’t he?”

“It’s… complicated. It’s better if he just goes back home tonight and then leaves from there in the morning.”

What you leave out of the whole explanation is that you didn’t really invite him to stay the night as well. Sounds horrible and ridiculous but you didn’t think you’d have felt comfortable with him staying. You’ve been dating for only barely more than a month and though things are going well, you felt like starting with just a dinner would be a better idea. Marcus didn’t question why you didn’t offer him to stay, it seemed like he was fine with just coming and then going after dinner.

Does this make you a bad girlfriend? Maybe, but you value your comfort and feelings more than to ruin your favorite holiday with your family.

Just as you mom said, once everyone is settled in their rooms for the upcoming three days, the whole gang dresses up to have a walk around taking the welcoming little path that runs around the cabin and is smooth enough for Valerie’s carriage as well. Your nieces and nephew are quick to surround Harry and nag him to join them at the front, exploring the woods surrounding the path. It seems like he doesn’t mind it and gladly takes part in the adventure, also secretly looking after them so their parents can have a break and enjoy the stroll in hopes the walk tires the kids out enough that they’ll willingly go to bed in the evening instead of whining to stay up late.

You’re walking with Etta next to you as she tells you about Hannah’s latest dance competition when you spot that Harry and Oliver, your nephew, Etta’s other kid are suspiciously whispering around pointing in your direction. At last Olly nods and runs up to you showing a quite thick piece of wood into your hand. You look down at him confused.

“Thank you?” you tell him a little unsure what it’s all about.

“I found it in a bush, I want to take it home. Harry said you’ll keep it for me because you have a good hand for thick and hard sticks.”

You almost choke on your own breath, as Olly just carelessly runs back ahead to join his sister. You immediately look over to Etta in fear that she heard what Harry told Oliver, but luckily she was talking with Joe turning back, not really paying attention to the conversation you just had with her son. If she did, Harry probably wouldn’t live by now.

Speaking of the devil, you look in his way and that annoying, smug grin is right there as he nods in your way saluting before he shows his hands into his pockets and turns back around to catch up with the kids.

That disgusting piece of shit really went into the depth of teaching something secretly dirty to your nephew as a way of payback for your comment in the car earlier. He surely wasn't just joking when he said you’d pay for what you said. And you have a feeling he is just getting started.

***

Aunt Monica is like a legend in your family. She is the oldest between your mom and her sisters, already in her sixties, but in the heart she still feels like she has just turned twenty. She never married, but had several men in her life, love affairs, short flings, but none of them lasted for more than a year.

“Why would I settle when there’s so many fish in the sea?” she once told you, her iconic Chanel sunglasses sat on her nose as she sipped on her martini.

She has worked many jobs throughout her life, she was once a dancer, she waited tables and even worked as a TV host at one point in the ‘80s. She was the true free spirit of the family, her sisters often questioned her sanity, but you think there’s nothing wrong with how she lived her life, enjoying it to the last bit. In the early ‘90s she was seeing a millionaire, probably the only man she would have given her lifestyle up for. Unfortunately, they never married, the man passed away due to his heart problems, however, since he had little to zero family he left basically everything to Aunt Monica. Money, house, cars, business, everything. Being the smart woman that she is, she handed over the business into professional hands but she is still the owner, so the money is still flowing even though she could have lived happily on the money she inherited without ever having to work a day.

She seems a little odd in your family, but she has always been a loving aunt to you, a caring sister and she never fails to take care of her loved ones. She is the one to pay for all these Christmas getaways, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to stay in places this nice.

“What’s all the money for if I don’t spend it on my family?” she always says when someone questions if she is fine with paying for everything. Your mom and Teresa have tried to convince her to let them at least pay for part of it but she wouldn’t even listen to them.

She likes to have her own, sometimes odd ways in life. She definitely has a drinking problem, but not in a dangerous way. You have never seen her completely wasted, she just likes to keep things buzzing and always have a drink on her whenever she needs the extra fun. Because of her past she has the greatest stories about meeting famous people back in the days or how soldiers used to try to win her over when she was just a teenager.

“Oh, those things happened,” your mom told you when one day you questioned if you could believe all the crazy stories Aunt Monica tells you. “She was like… the star of the show. Used to hate living in her shadow, but I can’t blame her for enjoying life and doing the things I was too afraid to do myself.”

Now you’re sitting in the sunroom that faces the amazing view behind the cabin, the Christmas tree is standing tall in the corner, beautifully decorated in white and beige. Valerie is snuggled up to your chest as you gently rub her back and you listen to Aunt Monica tell you about how a literal captain once proposed to her after just three days of knowing each other.

“He was a gentleman, but a beast in the bed, Y/N. I’m telling you, men in uniform are just a different level of satisfaction.”

She sighs deep, taking a sip from her margarita that’s definitely not her first drink, and you just laugh nodding.

“He was begging for me to go to Italy with him.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“Who said I didn’t?” she asks with a pretentious hurt look turning to you and you just laugh. You should have known the story would go this way. “I accepted the offer, only turned down his proposal when we sailed off and then we parted as soon as I stepped onto the land of Italy. Broke his heart into pieces, but I was too busy enjoying the Italian summer.”

Harry comes in and hands you a bottle filled with juice that probably Rosa sent for Valerie.

“Thank you,” you smile at him shortly as you adjust the little girl in your arms and hand her the bottle.

“Young boy, have you ever proposed to someone?” Aunt Monica asks Harry who stops in his way as he was already about to head out, but now he walks back to the sofa where she is sitting.

“No, not yet,” he shakes his head.

“And how do you think you would if the time came?”

You watch Harry think to himself at the odd and quite random question. It’s not really something you would have ever asked him, but now that there’s the chance to hear his answer you are listening curiously.

“Depends on the woman I’m proposing to,” he replies after a few seconds.

“How would you propose to Y/N?”

Your eyes widen as you turn to your aunt with shock all over your face. You definitely didn’t want yourself dragged into this.

“Aunt Monica, that’s--”

“Shush! I’m just asking theoretically. Wanna hear his answer.”

Harry’s eyes wander over to your sitting figure on the sofa as he leans onto the back of the one in front of him. You can feel the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks under his burning look and you just know he enjoys how nervous you got from this simple question that wasn’t even asked from you.

Licking his lips he moves his eyes from you over to Aunt Monica who is still waiting for his answer.

“Something romantic, but not too grandiose, I know she doesn’t like being in the center of the attention that much. Maybe…” Tapping on his chin you listen to his words and without even realizing you hold your breath. “Maybe on a hike with a nice view. She would be admiring the view when I get down on one knee and as she turns around I pop the lid on the box.”

What bugs you is that it’s an awfully accurate description of how you’d imagined your proposal. He was right about many aspects, like how you don’t like being in the center of attention. No idea how he nailed so easily, but he did.

Glancing down you pretend to be busy with Valerie who is still peacefully drinking her juice, eyes wandering around the room relentlessly.

“So you really look to satisfy her deepest fantasies, careful about even the smallest details. Women appreciate it,” Aunt Monica nods, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable she just made you feel.

“Thank you, I do like to satisfy women,” Harry cheekily answers with a smirk, eyes locking with yours for a moment as Aunt Monica lets out a laugh at the dirty comment. Before you could bite your tongue a retort slips out of your mouth.

“What a shame you don’t always succeed.”

Harry’s eyes turn from playful to dark pretty quickly and you enjoy the victory over him. Your comment in the car earlier already wounded his manhood, now it’s another stab right into his… crotch. It’s the least he deserves after what he taught poor Olly.

“That I don’t believe. He seems like an absolute pleaser.” Aunt Monica winks in Harry’s way who just smiles at her shyly, but you can tell your comment is still bugging him.

“I think Y/N knows that too herself, am I right?” He tilts his head to the side and you stand your ground with holding his gaze and not looking away.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” you simply say, just when you hear your mom calling out for you. “Would you take her please?” you innocently ask walking up to Harry, holding Valerie out for him. You can tell he is looking for a witty comeback, but he has nothing just yet, so he is stuck with keeping his mouth shut as he takes baby Valerie from you. You gift him with a sweet, but definitely spikey smile before leaving him there with Aunt Monica.

***

Dinner is already almost ready, you’re helping your mom and Aunt Teresa in the kitchen with the finishing touches, Joe and Harry packing out the wine bottles from the rack Jeremy brought them in, the two of them examining the bottles with such professionalism you almost believe they have the slightest idea about what to look for in a good wine.

“Should we open some red or white ones for tonight’s dinner?” Joe asks your mom who is the master chef when it comes to the dinner.

“Red would suit better,” she answers. “Are they sweet?”

“Some, yeah,” Harry nods holding up a bottle and checking the label.

“Great. Monica loves that too,” Teresa chuckles as she adds some salt to the mashed potato.

“And Y/N too,” Harry adds, not even looking up, but he successfully attracts your mom’s attention with his comment.

“She does?” Harry looks up and sees your boiling anger plastered all over your face, so of course he chooses to take it further.

“Oh, yeah. She can drink like a gallon. Wine drunk Y/N is like a whole different person.”

“I told you so many times not to get drunk, Y/N. It’s not too ladylike. When was the last time you saw her drunk?”

“There were plenty of occasions,” Harry exaggerates and you could kill him right there. “Though last time it was the tequila that got her wildin’.”

That damned smirk of his is making your hands curl into fists and for a moment you tell yourself it’s okay to punch him in front of your mother even if she’ll probably disown you for such behavior.

“Y/N! I have told you a million times that you need to know where your limits lie!” she huffs shaking her head at you while you clench your jaw. Back at it with the lessons about getting drunk. She’ll never get over it, not even when you’ll be forty. Why does it matter to her so much? Sometimes she is the one to get you started, but then she gives you the dirtiest looks when you have one too many. She should just get used to it now.

“She surely likes to have fun when she has had a few drinks,” Harry continues smugly. “Remember how much fun you had at Rosa and Steven’s wedding?”

“Oh, God! I remember how drunk you were that evening, I could have killed you!” your mother growls and you roll your eyes at her.

“It wasn’t that bad. There were a lot more people who got way more wasted than me,” you try to defend yourself folding your arms on your chest.

“That doesn’t change that you were too,” she says with a hard look. Great, now she is mad at you for something that happened literally years ago. Kudos to Harry for ruining her mood.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Harry adds and you look in his way with suspicion. “She was a delight when it was time to get her to bed.”

Your mouth almost hangs open, but it seems like you’re the only one understanding what he really meant by that. Luckily, beside you and him, Rosa and Steven are the only people who knows what happened between you and Harry that night, so it’s no surprise no one else catches on the hint.

“You were the one who took her up to her room? Sorry if she was a burden,” your mother sighs and right at that moment you wish the floor would just open up and you could disappear forever. Harry’s satisfied grin is the evidence that he just won another round of this nasty war.

Just as you open your mouth to try and move the conversation to another field you see a pair of headlights pull up to the driveway. Everyone turns to the window as Marcus’ car parks down last in the line. As you step away from the counter you see the confusion in Harry’s eyes about the new guest.

“Oh, amazing! He is here!” your mom cheers, seemingly instantly forgetting about how she was dragging you just a minute ago.

“Who’s here?” you hear Harry ask, but you’re already out of there, heading to the front door to greet Marcus.

Just as you walk out into the cold evening air you see him get out with a warm smile on his lips. You wait for him at the door, arms wrapped around yourself and as he reaches you he places a soft kiss to your lips.

“Hey, how was the drive?” you ask him.

“It was fine. I didn’t arrive too late, right?”

“No, we were just about to set the table. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

He takes your hand in his as the two of you walk inside, all eyes immediately turning your way at the arrival of your boyfriend.

“Everyone, I want you all to meet my boyfriend, Marcus. He is staying for dinner.”

Your family members walk up to the two of you, shaking hands and introducing themselves to Marcus who smiles at everyone politely, trying his best to remember all the names and information that’s thrown at him all of a sudden. Everyone seems delighted to have him for dinner, the kids instantly make him promise he’ll play a card game with them after dinner and he happily says yes to the invitation.

You can tell your mom is proud that finally both of her daughters are spending Christmas with a man by their side and you’re almost certain your dad took a liking to Marcus the moment he mentioned he is into fishing.

Everyone seems excited and happy for Marcus, there’s just one face that doesn’t fit in the line of joyful smiles. Harry stands quite far from the two of you and only gets closer when he shakes hands with Marcus. His cocky grin is long gone from his face as he keeps his hard look on your boyfriend who is chatting with everyone. Standing next to Marcus, your hand still holding his, your eyes lock with Harry’s and there’s an unknown, burning feeling in your gut when his hard gaze holds yours. The sudden change and cold act gets you wondering what’s really going on in his mind. He is the first one to look away and you watch him walk into the kitchen and disappear from your sight before you force a smile on your lips and turn back to Marcus.

PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@f-vasquezp @perspnhel @http-cherries @h-arrystyles @just-damn-bored @millennial-teenybopper @sarcasticallywitty15 @gwenlovesharrystyles @perfectywrong @do-youseeme @burberryharold @irwindoll

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles valerie #harry styles valerie series #valerie series

530 notes · View notes

elizabeethan · 3 years ago

Text

Rising Tide

An Overboard Addition

The decision to travel to the Outer Banks to follow the Bluefin Tuna fishing season through the winter was an easy one, only once Emma had suggested that they go together. Even after three years of marriage, he still couldn’t imagine being apart from her for more than a week, never mind an entire winter season. But when Emma found out about the extended season down south, thanks to the blasted television show out of Massachusetts, she insisted that they take part, together.

Of course, he didn’t exactly expect her parents and brother to join them.

A/N: I wrote this because I felt like I was being too mean to Mary Margaret and decided to spread the wealth.

For @the-darkdragonfly for keeping my enthusiasm for this series alive, and for being the best beta around.

Rated M

Catch up Here

Read my other stuff

Get on my tag list

Read on Ao3

~~~~

There are too many people on this bloody boat.

Killian’s fishing vessel has comfortably held himself, his wife, and his two crew members on countless occasions, but something has shifted with the addition of a fifth person.

Or, perhaps, it’s the fact that his crew members have been traded for Emma’s entire family. Plus, there’s their dog.

Of course, he didn’t exactly expect her parents and brother to join them.

Leo has just turned 21, and is, according to his sister, soul searching. Emma claims that he isn’t sure what he’s doing with his life, what with his decision not to attend college and his struggles to find a steady job. She thought that maybe helping Killian this season would also help Leo, perhaps exposing some passion for fishing he never knew he had. But of course, Leo has never fished before, so his father is tagging along to make matters easier and safer. And why not throw Mary Margaret into the mix too… the more the merrier.

At least that’s what Killian thought until they all got onto his bloody boat and shoved off.

It really isn’t meant for five people. Plus a dog the size of a miniature horse.

Emma enjoys sunning herself on the bow, even in the winter, and Killian enjoys watching her. What he doesn’t enjoy is the quick and judging looks he gets from her father and the snickering and giggling from her mother each time he’s caught. He doesn’t enjoy the groaning and eye rolling he gets from Leo each time he kisses his wife, seen because of the painful lack of privacy on this bloody boat.

The whole journey down was near torture. Emma and Killian have grown accustomed to a certain amount of privacy, as well as a certain amount of pleasure for each of them. Everyone says the honeymoon phase will fade, and yet it hasn’t for them. Everyone also says that he will soon struggle to keep up with the energy of his much younger wife, and yet he has not experienced such a thing.

Killian’s always been a private person, preferring to love his wife in seclusion. At least when it’s Will and Robin on the boat, he can tell them to shove off if they’re caught in some unsavory position. But when her father does, Killian nearly jumps overboard.

It takes them about a day to sail into Wanchese, the harbor almost as accommodating as the one back home. They’re friendly here, but he can’t help but get a sense of competition burning between himself and the southern fishermen. Killian’s never been much for competition, but David is.

He says something cheeky and mildly ominous to the others in the fleet, something about catching the most tonnage this season despite not being from down here, and Killian stiffens beneath Emma’s hand on his back. She leaves warmth between his shoulder blades where he always seems to be stiff.

“It’s alright,” she says as she kisses his shoulder over his sweater, pressing up onto her toes. “It’ll be fun.”

“The season down here is short,” he explains, though she already knows. “But I have a feeling it’ll feel quite long.”

She hums and laughs, kissing him once more and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind him as he pulls away from the docks. When he hears her mother’s voice cooing at Ripple, “look at your mommy and daddy over there,” he stiffens again.

It’ll be a long season.

~~~~

He’s only glad for the hotel room that her parents have rented.

Leo’s still on the boat, of course, acting as Killian’s first mate, but he can handle that for the evenings. Leo does well preparing the lines and fishing for bait, and he tries to see the upside as Emma serves him spaghetti for the fourth night in a row and he realizes that they once again won’t have any privacy.

“Thank you, love,” he says softly to her as she hands him the floppy paper plate. “Smells delicious.”

She snorts, shaking her head as she takes a seat beside him on the bow. It’s become a favorite spot for them; a place where they can unwind together, make love to each other, console each other’s demons. “Don’t lie,” she says, bumping their shoulders together. “I’m a shitty cook anyway, never mind on the water.”

“You’re a brilliant cook.”

“Yes,” she laughs, nodding and twirling her fork in the flaccid pasta. “My recipe for peanut butter and jelly is award winning.”

“Aye, well, I do like when you sprinkle the potato chips in them.”

“That’s because we’re both eight-years-old.”

He leans towards her, securing his plate in his lap so that he can press a lingering kiss against her temple. “I should hope not,” he jokes.

They sit quietly for a while, enjoying the dinner she made for them despite her complaints that it’s mushy and watching the sunset. It’s beautiful here, he has to admit, and he can’t help but appreciate the way the pink sky bounces off of the sea and into his wife’s hair.

“It’ll be fine, you know,” she says softly, her lips pressing to his neck. “It’s only a few weeks, and I don’t even think they’ll come out most weeks.”

“Aye, love,” he murmurs into the top of her head. “You know I’m not upset about this, right?”

“Yeah, but I can tell you’re not completely comfortable either. I mean, my parents--”

“Emma,” he interrupts, although he doesn’t like to. He takes her face in his hands and gives her a smile. “I love your parents because I love you. I can handle a few weeks with them.”

“You promise you won’t gaff them if they mess up your boat?”

He laughs, if only to remove the image of such a violent proposition from his mind, and nods. “I promise, my love.”

~~~~

Things start turning south after a few weeks on the water, her parents, just as Emma had predicted, only making a few appearances. David was helpful enough teaching Leo the ropes, and he’s become an invaluable member of Killian’s crew. Now that he’s trained quite thoroughly, David and Mary Margaret have taken the opportunity to explore the Outer Banks.

Only today, they’re out on the boat, along for the ride since Killian suggested a shorter trip just past the sound. It was hard enough crossing the bar with Emma’s father’s watchful eye on him, and now that they've made it to deep enough waters, his anxiety is at an all time high.

Killian is a talented sailor. He knows this, and he also knows that he’s a talented fisherman. He’s earned himself a rather suitable fortune in his years catching tuna, and he maintains that he knows what he’s doing. And yet, having an audience-- especially one that seems to still be waiting for the other shoe to drop-- is making him entirely doubt himself. They’re waiting for their daughter to get hurt, either by him or because of him. He’s waiting for the doubt he has in himself to fade, and yet it never seems to unless Emma forces it away.

He would never hurt her. He would die if anything ever happened to her, especially if it was at his hands. If he were ever involved in any pain delivered to her, he isn’t sure how he would survive the guilt and anguish that would result.

Which is why he’s been so careful the entire trip, and each time she’s on his boat with him. He failed at his attempts to make her wear a lifejacket-- So what, you think I can’t swim? I’m a better swimmer than you, probably-- but he tries to take every other precaution. He’s even trained Ripple to bark when she sees a large wave incoming so that they can take cover. He keeps knives stashed around the boat so that he can cut any rogue line or rope, should anyone get tangled. He keeps lifepreservers as well, one on each corner despite the boat being small enough to reach one easily. Every sharp object has a home, a designated place to avoid accidents. He captains a very safe vessel any day, but when Emma and their Ripple are on board, it’s like his senses are heightened.

Which is why he watches her like a hawk each day, but especially now that her parents are on board. He just knows that one misstep will have them staring him down, judging his ability to care for their daughter, silently gaining confirmation that their marriage won’t make it. He knows it’s dramatic, and not entirely true, but he can’t help but fear that they think of him as too old for her. He’s not energetic enough; he can’t keep up with her needs. He can’t provide her with the life that she deserves.

They’ve talked about this, of course. But the reminders keep coming with her parents’ looks towards him, so his self-doubt flourishes.

They’ve only just hooked up when it happens. Leo is reeling-- he’s doing phenomenally as he works with the waves in an effort to drag the beast to them-- and Killian is driving. David stands at the helm with Leo, telling Killian when to go into reverse and when to go into neutral, when to turn left and when to turn right. They’ve almost brought the thing to the port of the vessel, and Emma stands diligently with a gaff ready to assist however she can. Killian can’t stop staring. Not only because she looks beautiful and strong, but because he worries for her too much.

He notices the rope on the ground quickly after it falls, calling to David to move it despite his distraction with the strained line. He kicks it away, a loop forming easily as he does so. He shouts once more, desperately as he watches Emma take a step to her left, and panics when he isn’t heard.

“Emma!” he calls from the wheel, turning towards her but unable to abandon steering the craft for fear of disaster. “Love, your--”

She starts to trip as David throws the harpoon, the line tightening around her ankle and pulling at her leg until she has to drop to the deck. Killian abandons his post easily, rushing towards her and shoving against David with too much force so that he can grab for a blade and cut her free.

She falls forward into his arms, her gasp coming out forcefully as she seems to piece together what’s almost happened as the adrenaline wears off.

“Woah,” she breathes, squeezing his hand in hers as he helps her to straighten.

“Are you--”

“The line!” David calls. “It’s-- Emma?” He hurries towards them both, finally abandoning the tool as Leo cuts the beast free and does the same and crouches by her side. “What happened?”

A sudden wave of disgust washes over him as an equally powerful wave from the sea crashes into his beloved boat. With the force of it, with his wife safe in his arms, he realizes he couldn’t possibly care less what happens to his fishing vessel as long as she’s alright.

“She nearly went overboard,” he spits. “Did you not hear me? Or were you too busy with the bloody harpoon?”

“Obviously I didn’t hear you,” he argues. “But I don’t need you blaming me when your equipment doesn’t work. This harpoon line is way too long.”

He breathes out an exasperated laugh, shaking his head and staring up at David. “Oh, so this is my fault? You aren’t watching your lines and nearly get your daughter killed and somehow it’s my fault?”

“Babe,” she starts, putting her hand on his, but he’s too angry and worked up and terrified.

“No, I'm sick of this,” he says. He hears Ripple finally bursting out of the cabin after far too many attempts to break free, and she hurries towards Emma, towards her mother, to lick her cheek. Emma giggles and cuddles with the pup, seeming to allow her breath to finally even. “Every chance you get, it’s a dig at my ability to keep my wife safe. And when I-- when your Captain orders you to move a bloody line away from her damn foot--”

“Killian!”

He can’t even respond, can’t do anything but take a heaving breath in hopes that it will calm him. He knows what she’s thinking-- that she wishes he would stop yelling at her bloody father-- but he can’t shake the feelings of rage coursing through him.

“I’m sorry,” he finally mumbles, finally able to turn his head and look her in the eye. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

She takes his hand and squeezes once more, nearly forcing him to maintain eye contact, and says, “I’m fine, babe. I’m okay.” he tries to ignore the discomfort written across her father’s entire being. “Let’s just go below deck and you can check my ankle, okay?”

“Is it hurting you?”

She blinks once and says, “It’s a little sore. Come on.”

They aren’t even able to shut themselves in before she tugs on his arm, dragging him close to her and wrapping him in a squeeze that he swears could kill him if it wasn’t exactly what he needs. It’s not as if she was dragged over the bow-- it’s not as if the rope truly cinched around her ankle and dragged her overboard, beneath the surface of the deadly crashing waves-- but she came pretty damn close. And now, as he comes down from the high of adrenaline of nearly losing his wife, his best friend, the most important thing in his life, he cracks.

He can barely breathe as his palms reach to cup her cheeks, if only to ensure that they’re still warm and pink and alive. He chokes when he has her in his grasp, his brows pinching together almost painfully and his teeth digging into the soft flesh of his bottom lip, likely drawing blood. “Love,” he stutters, his voice weak and small, and he nearly loses his balance as another wave crashes into them. She keeps him steady. “I almost--”

“No,” she insists. “I know, baby, but you didn’t. I’m right here, Killian. I’m not going anywhere.”

When his eyes meet hers, he says desperately, “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” she tells him with such certainty that he has no choice but to believe her. “Killian, I'm right here. I’m here with you, and I’m okay. You’re not gonna lose me.”

He shakes his head, and when he does, she creeps closer to him on the small captain's bed until her hips can straddle his thighs. His hands find her waist, unable to do anything but hold her and try to convince himself that she’s here and she’s fine. He didn’t lose her, although he almost did. The sea has given so much to him, but it’s also taken. It took his brother, or so he must only assume, and it almost took the love of his life. He knows now, now that it’s been proven to him, that he would gladly give himself to the sea if she took his wife. “Emma, my love…”

She hardly gives him a chance to answer, although part of him thinks she knows that he had nothing to say. Her lips cut him off, pressing to his and destroying any thoughts of negativity or anger or fear. They fuse themselves to his mouth and take from him every ounce of distress he could possibly imagine feeling. They give him every ounce of strength he could possibly possess. Her tongue slinks out over his own and sends small tingles down his back to the base of his spine until his grip on her tightens. Until his grip is tight enough to convince himself that she isn’t going anywhere.

“I love you,” she presses against his skin, her mouth somehow never leaving his.

“Emma,” he breathes again. With a gasp, he says once more, “Emma.”

“I'm okay,” she says. Then, with her hips pressing to his, she says, “Let me show you.”

In a move that he can barely perceive, one consumed with disorientation and a need to still feel her in his arms, she’s off of his lap and shedding her clothes. Her shorts were wet and difficult to peel from her legs, her-- his-- sweater, too, but her tight tank top, the one doubling as a bra, comes off of her easily. He reaches for her breasts, his lips finding her tightened nipple, and the moan that leaves her has him shaking.

She takes his clothes off, too, leaving hot trails of fire with her mouth each time she removes something from his skin. Her tongue follows a line between two freckles on his upper thigh and he throws his head back against the thin pillow that they share most nights. When her lips purse against the angry red tip of his cock, he grabs for her, fingers lacing through her hair and holding onto her if only so that he never has to fear letting her go. If he never lets go of her, he’ll never lose her.

She hollows her cheeks expertly, quickly working him to nearly his breaking point until he has to force himself to stop her. He wants her more than almost anything, second only to the feeling of finishing with the feeling of her walls reaching the same precipice around him. He thinks-- he hopes-- that the look he gives her conveys this, and when she releases him and licks her lips, smirking at him, he knows he’s succeeded.

Her fingers find her clit, although he’s quick to replace them with his own as she settles herself just above him. When she throws her head back with a gasp, her breasts swell and her long hair nearly tickles his kneecaps. When his fingers slide down from her clit to her entrance, smoothly spreading her arousal until he can tuck them inside, she lets out a moan that’s far too loud for their close quarters, so he sits up and fuses his mouth to hers. Her fingers grip the back of his head, holding him to her and tugging at his hair in a way that he knows means she’s mad with want.

His tongue traces her bottom lip in filthy need before he bites down on it, making her moan. “I want you,” she breathes as his mouth finds her earlobe. “Killian, please.”

“I need you,” he murmurs without meaning to, suckling on her ear in hopes to silence anymore foolish confessions.

“Take me. Take what you need, please.”

Her core is just above him, his cock throbbing with a need to be within the heat of her walls, to be squeezed by her until he can spill all of the love he has for her inside. When she drops onto him, her clit running along the length of him and warming him from the inside out, he grips her hips once again and helps to guide her. When she whimpers desperately, a moan escaping the back of her throat making him twitch, his mouth finds hers once again. With another move along his length, her fingers reach between them and guide him into her, making her hiss and whine and bite and hug him tighter.

“I love you so fucking much,” she says as she grinds down against him.

He can do nothing but consume her, taking her mouth against his again and moving into her until she lets out a breathless sound of need and desire. It drives him mad, his whole body shivering as he thrusts up once again, and when she props herself on her knees and moves herself up and down along his length, he has to squeeze his eyes shut.

The fact is, he nearly lost her. She’s fine, she wasn’t injured, nothing happened, but it could have been so much worse than it was. He praises himself for being quick enough to cut her free, but fears what could have happened if he hadn’t. But when she takes his face into her palms again and presses their foreheads together, when she whispers that she’s here and that she loves him, he knows that he can believe her. He knows that he can allow himself to move on from the absolute terror that comes with nearly losing the one thing he can’t live without.

“Emma, fuck.”

“Fuck me,” she says. Her grip on his hair tightens again and she commands, “Harder.”

So he flips them over, Emma landing on her back and gasping when he slams back into her, her ankles hooking around his back and pulling him deeper into her. She moans in his ear when he tucks his face into the crook between her neck and her shoulder and sucks what he knows will become a far-too-obvious mark there. She’ll likely have to keep wearing his sweaters to cover it, not that he minds.

She squeezes, and she pushes against him, and she cries out against the lobe of his ear, and before he knows it, his hands are finding the back of her shoulders and pulling her up towards him so that he can hold her as close to himself as he can possibly manage. When she’s seated upon his thighs, his hips thrusting so that his cock can slide into her and hit every perfect part of her, she bites her bottom lip and screws her brows so tightly that he wonders if she’ll have a headache.

He can’t speak, can’t put into words the love he has for her, so he kisses her again and she kisses back. And though it’s quick and dirty, it’s just what the two of them need. She’s alright-- she’s just fine-- but they need each other now. He needs her to show him that she’s alright. She needs him to show her that he believes her. So when they come together, Emma squeezing him forcefully and desperately, he spills himself into her with just as much neediness so that they’re falling together, holding each other, losing themselves in one another.

Eventually, he falls forwards, Emma barely catching him before rolling the both of them over so that they're on their sides and facing one another. Once they’re comfortable, both of them panting heavily, she lifts her hand and rests it on his cheek, a soft smile gracing her lips and brightening her eyes, and he knows now that she’s alright. She’s fine, just like she said.

“You’re okay?” he asks in clarification.

“I’m perfect, as long as you’re here.”

“I’m always here.”

“Then I’m always okay.”

He didn’t expect to be here with her, now, with her family above deck, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. When his palm lands softly on her cheek, the warmth of it heating his entire being, he smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you too, idiot. You’re my husband; it’s kind of a given.”

With a laugh, he answers, “You’re very rude.”

“Only because I love you very, very much.”

“I’m not sure how those two things are equivalent, but…”

She shushes him then, scooting closer to him so that she can press her lips to his. “Don’t overthink it, baby. You could hurt yourself.”

“You’re quite something.”

“Yes, I love it when they say that to me after a night of passionate lovemaking.”

“It’s only four thirty.”

She laughs softly, a warm breath pushing itself from her lungs and onto his face, his lips tingling in response to the heat of her presence beside him. He laughs, too, his hand brushing a rogue strand of hair away from her eyes. “Emma,” he whispers.

“Killian,” she whispers back, “I’m okay.”

He nods, because with her in his arms now, he knows. “I know.”

She kisses him one more time, then asks, “Now, what was it you always say to me? You’re only allowed to fuck me through your feelings if we talk about them afterwards?”

He sighs, nuzzling his nose against her own before it finds her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry,” she tells him, her exasperation clear in her voice. “I’m not mad, Killian. I just want you to know that it’s alright to feel angry about stuff that scares you.”

“When did you get so deep?”

“The ocean is pretty deep, right? And I almost got yeeted right into it.”

He wants to laugh, truly. He wants to make a joke about her idiotic, immature reference. But he can’t, for his fear of her actually going overboard takes over. And he doesn’t exactly know what the bloody hell that phrase even means. So he squeezes her tighter and shakes his head. “Hush,” he says, because he can say nothing else.

She whispers, “Killian,” and when he looks up at her, her eyes are deep and serious. “It’s no one’s fault. And nothing happened.”

He shakes his head. “Something very bad could have happened, love. If I ever lost you…”

“I know, I know,” she says, cutting him off with one more kiss. “And I know you’re mad at my dad, too, but it’s no one’s fault. That rope was there, and you cut it away.”

Truthfully, he’s almost surprised by her mention of her father. It’s true that he became too angry, too blameful of the man who could have prevented a disaster from taking place had he only listened. But Emma is okay, she’s fine, and David is probably just as worried as Killian was.

“I know,” he concedes.

“And I know you’re a little upset about him… I guess he’s been kind of doubting you, huh?”

He shrugs. She’s right, of course, but far be it for him to admit that he’s feeling this way. Why he can’t, he doesn’t know.

“It must get pretty tiring to have him always questioning you, especially since you're the captain. Your word goes, and all that.”

There’s no response, not without admitting that this is exactly the way he’s feeling, so he kisses her nose. She makes it easy, of course, and she’s completely right. He gave a command that wasn’t followed, and it could have cost him his life in the loss of her. “It’s just…” he starts, unsure if he’ll be able to finish.

“They’ve been doubting you all this time?”

With a sigh, he nods. How she manages to read his every thought, his every emotion, is lost on him. “We’ve been married quite a while.”

“Three years,” she confirms happily. “And we’re pretty content, aren't we?”

“Aye,” he laughs, pulling her close to him so that he can tuck her beneath his chin and press a kiss to the top of his head.

“They have this need, Killian,” she starts to explain. “They gave me up, and now they have me back. They have this need to protect me and take care of me so they don’t risk losing me again.”

“I know, I just--”

“And I’m sure it’s impossible to rectify how they could somehow not see you as the one thing that’s protected me more than anything. But they need to be the ones, I think.”

He shakes his head, unable to move past the point she’s trying to make as he asks, “So what, I can’t be the one to protect my wife?”

With a soft sigh, she suggests, “Maybe their doubts are rubbing off on you? Making you doubt yourself?”

“It’s not exactly difficult,” he says in spite before again trying to force away his irritation. Shaking his head, he says more softly, “I know that we’re perfect for one another, and that I can and will keep you safe above all else, but the constant distrust makes it difficult to believe that.”

Her fingers find the gray along his temple, scratching through it lightly in such loving gentleness. He’ll never tire of how much she loves his grays, his old age somehow feeling more manageable as her appreciation for it grows each day. She stays quiet, and he knows it’s because she knows he’s right. He’s said what he wants to say, and she agrees with him.

“You know,” she says, “you’ve known me as long as they have.”

“Aye, I know.”

“And you love me more.”

He clears his throat. “That can’t be true, love.”

“And yet, it is,” she laughs. “It’s okay, I like it. I’ve spent more time with you than I have them. I have more of a connection with you than I do with them, in a few ways,” she says with a chuckle, smirking and kissing him softly.

“Emma--”

“I spent my whole life craving a certain type of love from a certain type of person. I always thought it would be from the people who gave me up, but it turns out I was wrong. The person I was looking for was the person who would love me over everything. The one who would put me above everything. My parents did the right thing when they gave me away, but they still gave me away. You’ve never given up on me, Killian. All my life, I’ve been searching for this person, and I found you.”

All he can do is hope that the look in his eyes as he stares at her conveys the depth of what he’s feeling for her. She tells him things like this quite frequently, her comfort with him evident as she continues to open up. When they met, she was an open book, although the stories were written in another language. Now, nearly four years later, he’s fluent.

Finally, after much silence passes between them-- too much, considering her family is still just above them-- he sighs and fiddles with her hair once more. He’s said his piece now, able to get off his chest the anger and fear that he felt, but with Emma’s heartfelt confession, he feels a need to clarify some things.

“Your life as a child who was, well--”

“An orphan,” she tells him firmly.

“An orphan. It seems rather impossible. I just can’t imagine how hard that must have been, and how much strength it must have taken just to grow up.”

With a soft, sad smile, she nods. “Why do you think I don’t want kids?” she asks with a shrug.

His fingers dance along the soft skin of her temple, drawing trails down the side of her face and to the back of her neck before he pulls them together and kisses her lips gently. “It’s… It’s alright for that to be the reason, love,” he starts, hopeful that he can actually get his point across successfully. “But I just want you to know… I mean… you have a reason, but you certainly don’t need one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean not wanting a child is enough of a reason for you not to have one. I know you struggled growing up, and you fear you could subject a child to a similar fate, but you would also have the right to make this decision even if that wasn’t the case.”

She leans in close to him, their foreheads touching and her nose bumping his, and she whispers, “I know. And I know that if we had one, we would love it and everything but… we’re enough,” she shrugs.

“We are.”

“Are you sure?”

With a tender, lingering kiss to her lips, he whispers, “What we have is perfect. You and Ripple are all that I need. A baby would add to what we are together, but it’s not something that I need to feel fulfilled. It wouldn’t complete us because we’re already complete.”

She sighs softly and nods, kissing him again. “Okay, good. I agree.”

“I’m glad.” His hands cup her cheeks as gently as they can, all of the love he has for his wife washing through his palms and into her skin. “I love you more than anything,” he promises her.

“I love you more than everything.”

“Cheeky scoundrel, you are.”

“For you, babe.”

“When did you start calling me babe?”

She silences him with one more kiss, deep and passionate as their lips meld together and their tongues tangle briefly, before she pulls away from him with a salacious grin and stands up. “Come on,” she insists, holding out her hand. “My family is probably wondering what we’re up to down here.

He catches the small, genuine smile that graces her whole face, brightening her eyes as she says family.

~~~~

Dinner that evening is awkward. Despite having an unsuccessful day as far as fishing is concerned, they decided to call it a day and turn in early. The tension on the boat was too high, a conversation desperately necessary but not conducive to their environment. He needs to apologize to her father, he realizes, but he struggled to find the ability to do so while trying to captain his vessel.

When they got into the harbor and docked, they decided to go for dinner out rather than finding something to cook either on the boat or in her parents’ hotel room. The small local restaurant they came across just beside the harbor is quiet enough, the atmosphere relaxed and quaint, but it still feels too awkward to bring up his outburst of anger, no matter how justified it was.

Finally, after they'd each finished a glass of wine and gotten refills, he clears his throat. “Dave,” he says with little conviction. He scratches behind his ear, noting the way Emma’s left brow raises expectantly, and takes a swig from his glass. “I, uh, I’d like to discuss earlier.”

Her father clears his throat just the same as he had, pressing his lips together and earning a startlingly familiar look from his own wife. “So would I.”

Without making eye contact, he nods, trying to find the right words. “It’s come to my attention that I may have gotten a bit angry.”

David raises a brow, purses his lips as he stares down at the fish that KIllian can’t believe he has the ability to eat, and nods. “Me too.”

The silence that consumes their table is deafening, the restaurant suddenly seeming far too noisy against the stiffness between himself and David. Perhaps this will be enough, he thinks. Although, he’s proven wrong easily. Dropping her fork dramatically and rolling her eyes, Emma exclaims, “Are you both serious?”

“My thoughts exactly,” her mother agrees. “Do men not talk about their feelings, ever?”

“No,” Leo laughs.

Her mouth is agape as she stares between them, each of them looking to her as if hoping for guidance in how she wants them to move forward. “You’re both being idiots,” she accuses, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest as she shakes her head. “Just tell each other that you’re sorry, Jesus Christ. What are you, toddlers?”

“Sorry?!” her father exclaims in outrage. “What do I have to be sorry for? Your husband screamed at me!”

“Because you didn’t listen to an order and almost got her killed!”

“I think you’re forgetting that I know what I'm doing when I’m out there, Jones. You don’t need to have a power trip with me.”

“I think you’re forgetting, I’m the bloody captain.” He’s seething, leaning forward into the table and resting his elbows on the hard surface.

“Shut up!” Her voice is too loud for the quiet space, but truthfully, her words are necessary. “Dad, I know you were scared, and maybe you took that fear out on Killian. But he was scared, too, and he did the same thing. And Killian, I know you gave an order, but he didn’t hear you. So if both of you could chill out and stop blaming each other for something that didn’t even happen, that would be great.”

Killian stays quiet, his jaw tense and his teeth grinding together with too much force. She’s right, of course, they’re being childish. She had already tried to tell him that there’s no one to blame, and here he is blaming her father. It’s unnecessary, an excuse for him to ignore his fears a bit more. So he clears his throat again. “I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I was afraid I was going to lose her and I took it out on you.”

David takes in a deep breath and leans away from the table, the tension loosening slightly, and says, “I’m sorry, too. I did the same thing.”

In a moment of boldness, he says, “Although, it does feel like you’ve been doubting my ability to provide for her since we met, and it honestly feels like you aren’t in support of our marriage.”

He sees Emma squeeze her eyes shut, her hand cupping her forehead, but she makes no attempt to stop the exchange from taking place. Mary Margaret stiffens, so does Leo, and David takes a moment before even considering an answer.

“Killian,” her mother starts, placing her hand over his in an attempt at being comforting. It works, a bit. “Emma, are you feeling that way, too?

Though she’s clearly on the spot, Emma looks up from the table’s surface and shrugs. “I mean, yeah. I know you guys love us and support us, but he’s right. Sometimes it feels like you doubt we’ll make it.”

David sighs and shakes his head. “That’s never been our intention.”

“We both believe in each other, in our marriage, but to always have you in our ears about how Killian’s older, and his job is dangerous, and how I need stability… It feels like you don’t trust us to take care of ourselves or each other. And now Killian’s doubting himself and blaming himself for something that he shouldn’t be.”

She’s honest, almost too honest, and the tension is back.

David’s eyes seek the ceiling, his jaw tight before he says again, “It’s not our intention. I’m sorry that we’re making you both feel that way.”

Wiping at her eyes, Mary Margaret says, “Emma, honey, we just… we worry about you. We want to make sure that you’re getting everything you need and that you’re well taken care of, and we put pressure on Killian. I’m sorry.”

“I know that,” she answers in exhaustion, shaking her head. “I know you guys are putting pressure on yourselves, too, to make sure that I have a good life now that I'm here with you. But I do have a good life. I need you to trust that Killian and I have the best life I could possibly imagine.”

“We know,” Mary Margaret says softly, her head casting down.

“We don’t need different jobs, or a bigger house, or… or kids. We’re perfect just like this.”

There’s quiet across the table now, each of them seeming to settle and relax a bit with the truth out between them. It’s not like this isn’t something he and Emma have discussed-- they’ve talked at length several times about how her parents have a need to care for her. But having the words spoken aloud, having Emma ask them to tone it down, feels freeing.

“We’re sorry,” David finally says after a few moments of peace. “I’m sorry. I know I’m hard on you, Killian. I worry about my little girl too much, and it’s not fair for me to put that on you.”

It’s a big step. Truthfully, it almost takes Killian by surprise, considering the two of them couldn’t even look at each other a few moments ago. But now, David has acknowledged why he’s so upset, and he’s apologized for it. Her mother, too. Honestly, just them recognizing that this is the way they’ve been feeling is enough, even if they continue to doubt him.

“I don’t intend to let her down,” he finally says, earning a soft smile from her. “I-- Emma’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’ll do anything I can to keep her safe. Always.”

She squeezes his hand and she bites her bottom lip, releasing it so that she can smile once more. “I love you,” she says softly for only him to hear. To her mother, she says, “I love him, okay? I’m fine; we’re fine. I promise.”

~~~~

The trip home has been a long one, her father constantly making jokes about how he’s driving that make him absolutely mad, although he knows them to be in jest. He taught Leo how to captain, showing him the ropes now that he’s used to the controls, so with only a few hours before they make port in Storybrooke, he’s able to meet his stunning, sundrenched wife on the deck of his beloved vessel. She tries to sunbathe, although it’s becoming colder and colder the further north they travel, so she’s wrapped in her blanket rather than lying atop it.

“Hey babe,” she smiles, tipping her sunglasses off of the bridge of her nose.

“Hi babe.”

The face she makes is priceless, her nose scrunching in disgust as she shakes her head. “No, don’t call me that. It’s all wrong.”

“And what shall I call you, if you can call me babe and I can’t?” he asks as he sits beside her and presses a kiss to her temple.

“You can call me… Darling, or my love, or the best thing that’s ever happened to me…”

“Those are my options?”

“Take ‘em or leave ‘em.”

His arms wrap around her easily, pulling her against him until she wriggles herself on top of him. They lie down, Killian on his back and his love resting across his chest, and he sighs happily. “Well, my love,” he starts, his fingers scratching against her scalp until she sighs and melts into him. “It seems to have been a successful season after all.”

“Just like I told you.”

“Aye.”

“You should listen to your wife, Jones.”

“I suppose you’re right, Swan.”

“It’s Jones, Jones,” she says softly, kissing his neck just above the hem of his sweater.

“My mistake, darling,” he almost whispers.

They’re quiet, so relaxed as they lie together, the swell of the ocean rocking them into a sense of serenity. Her breath is warm as it washes over his skin, sending a shiver down his spine as they travel north, back into the northeast winter. He pulls the blanket they share higher so that it covers her shoulders, and she hugs herself closer to him.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly after a while, her voice barely audible over the waves.

“Aye, are you? Are you cold?”

“No,” she shakes her head against his chest, “You're nice and toasty. But that’s not what I meant. I meant are you... okay?”

With a soft and understanding sigh, he nods. “Overall a successful season, my love, just like you’d predicted.”

“And you didn’t even gaff anyone,” she says with a grin he can hear through her voice.

“Well, no one messed up my boat.”

She laughs softly and squeezes her arms around him once more. “And you beat out those southern assholes.”

He chuckles and lets his fingers trail up her spine over his sweatshirt. He caught more than anyone else, earning more money and respect, along with a target on his back for next year. If he comes back, he’ll have to be careful to ensure that he succeeds once again.

“I’m glad we… I mean, we got a lot out in the open. Things feel simpler now.”

She nods and kisses the small patch of hair that peeks out from beneath his sweater. “I know, I feel it too. It’s like things have finally settled down, ya know?”

“Aye. Like we don’t have anything to worry about now.”

“Yeah.”

More time passes and the gentle hum of the motor lulls them as they skip over wave after wave.

“I love you,” he says softly, cutting through the comfortable silence lying between them. If he could whisper and she’d hear him, he would.

“I love you, too, babe. More than anything.”

He moves his hand from her back to the side of her face, the side that’s exposed to the chilled air rather than tucked against his chest. He lets his fingers trace gentle patterns along her temple until she presses up to look at him, her eyes fluttering shut as he cups her cheek. “God, how I love you, best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers.

She giggles and leans in, fusing her lips to his, their kiss pure and longing as she deepens it. She lets her hands cradle his head and hold him to her, her tongue sliding out of her own mouth and along the line of his bottom lip before she nips at it. With his hands beneath the blanket that conceals them from the wind and the sea spray, he squeezes her ass and pulls her hips down onto his, drawing a needy moan from the back of her throat.

She breaks away from him for just a second, taking in a deep breath without opening her eyes before she leans in again and meets him once more. With a whimper as he bucks his hips up into hers, he lets his hand begin to wander beneath the thick fabric covering her curves.

Her family is here, far too close for comfort, but even so, he thinks he would risk terminal embarrassment in favor of being with her if not for the rude interruption. They hear their angel, their Ripple, barking loudly from the rear deck, Leo unable to console her as she argues with the dolphins that greet her from beneath the water. Eventually, he calls for his sister for support, hopeful that Emma’s presence will calm the beast so that she doesn’t leap overboard.

Emma groans, breaking away from him and dropping her forehead against his in frustration. “Dammit,” she whispers. “I totally would have fucked you, too.”

He snorts, shaking his head and kissing her once more, and says, “I’m sure that’s true. I suppose we’ll just have to wait until we get home.”

She smiles softly as she presses another kiss to his mouth and says, “Know what’s funny?” When he hums in question, she continues, “We’ve been married for three years, but it still feels like we’re in our newlywed phase.”

He smirks, slapping her ass one more time as she moves to get off of him, and says, “I think we should stay in it.”

“Agreed.”

Apparently, their agreement is binding. He never does lose the absolutely need-driven desire to make love to his wife any chance he gets, no matter what they should be doing instead. No matter the things that could come between them, he loves her, and he’ll never tire of showing her any chance he gets. It’s enough, they’ve both realized. They're perfect.

The End

Tagging:

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @pirateprincessofpizza @captainswan21 @hookedmom @lostintheskyfaraway @undercaffinatednightmare @strangestarlighttree

#captain swan #captain swan fanfic #overboard #rising tide #overboard ff #cs ff #once upon a time fanfic #ouat ff #cs modern au #cs smut #cs angst

48 notes · View notes

bobohu4eva · 4 years ago

Text

Pink Lace - Chapter 4

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo

Masterlist

When you woke up your head was pounding. Reluctantly, you dragged yourself out of bed anyway.

“Hey Mia” you spoke as you knocked on her door “I need a favor.”

She opened the door just enough for you to see her tired form, bedhead and all looking back at you.

“It’s 9am on a Sunday what the hell y/n.” She opened the door the rest of the way and rubbed her eyes. “What is it?”

You felt bad waking her up, but you needed to tell her what had happened. And you needed your car back, which was still parked at the club.

“I’ll explain more on the way, but Baekhyun drove me home from work last night and I need you to take me to my car.”

You saw your roommates eyes widen “He drove you home? Are you insane?”

“Just let me explain everything, I promise it’s not as crazy as it sounds.”

“Okay, let me get dressed though.” She looked at you skeptically, closing the door and meeting you in the living room soon after to get going.

“So he drove you home.” She stated simply, keeping her eyes on the road as she made her way through the streets towards your work.

“I know it sounds bad but he saved my ass last night. I was so nervous about him possibly showing up that I let some assholes get me blackout drunk. When he showed up he took me into a room to sleep it off and drove me home.”

“You got wasted at work? You know how dangerous that is.” She reprimanded you.

“I know, I know. And I usually don’t, but these guys seemed nice and I was so nervous that I just kept taking the shots they bought me. The assholes had me in a VIP room for a while too, from what Baekhyun told me. I can’t remember any of it though, thank god. All I remember is laughing and having a good time and then waking up with my head on his lap.”

“Baekhyun’s lap? How do you know he didn’t just make it all up to seem like some sort of hero?”

“Yeah.. He usually always gets there early, like 7 or 8, and when I woke up it was past midnight. He told me I was asleep for a few hours.”

“So he just sat and watched you sleep that whole time... that’s not weird at all.”

“I told you it’s not like that! If it wasn’t for him I would’ve been all on my own last night. I don’t even wanna think about all the fucked up shit that could’ve happened to me in there if he hadn’t taken me somewhere safe to sleep it off.”

Mia stayed quiet. She knew you were right, Baekhyun had actually helped you.

“I can’t explain it but it’s different with him, he’s not like the other guys there at all.”

“Y/n, do you like him?”

Her question caught you off guard. You didn’t know what to say. Did you like Baekhyun?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean do you like him as more than just a customer.”

“Well...” There was a pause, and you knew she could tell what was going on in your head.

As you were trying to form your thoughts, Mia was already pulling into the parking lot of your work. She parked next to you, but before unlocking the doors she looked over at you.

“You know you can tell me anything. I’m not gonna judge you if you have a crush on your professor, even if I think it’s a really bad idea. You’re my best friend.”

“I don’t know what I feel. He’s always so sweet to me that it’s hard not to like him, even though I know I shouldn’t. I know I’m pushing these feelings down but they’re getting harder and harder to ignore.”

She gave you a sympathetic look and you heard her car doors unlock. “Let’s get home, it’s too early to be thinking about this now anyway.”

You got out and entered your own car, starting it and making your way back towards your shared home. When you got back you started making breakfast for the both of you, as both a thank you and I’m sorry for waking her up so early on a weekend.

The two of you were in the middle of destroying some cinnamon rolls when she caught you off guard again. “Do you have a picture of Baekhyun? This whole time I’ve been imagining him as a smelly neckbeard. He’s cuter than that, right?” She asked you, and you couldn’t help but crack up.

“Yes” you laughed “he’s cute, really cute actually. Definitely the most attractive professor I’ve had in a while. Let me see if I can find something.”

“Ooooo yes I wanna see.”

You logged into your universities website and started searching around, seeing if there were any photos of him there. To your dismay you couldn’t find anything on there, so your next guess was facebook. You typed in his full name, and what popped up was not what you had been expecting.

There were several posts, all fairly old, and all pictures of him with his arm around a beautiful girl. His ex.

Mia saw the change in your face and immediately snatched your phone out of your hand to see for herself.

“What the fuck y/n...” She said as she stared at the phone, eyes wide. “THIS is him? This man right here.” She turned the phone around, pointing at him.

“...Yeah. And I think that’s his ex in the picture too.”

“Fuck the ex y/n this man is fucking beautiful... no wonder you like him. I would too. I’m sure half the girls in your class would love to hop on that.”

You took your phone back, looking intently at the image on the screen.

“She’s pretty.”

“Who? His ex? Of course she is, look at him!” You just kept staring at the picture of the two of them together, feeling how it made your stomach twist up in discomfort. “Damn you do like him if you’re that stressed over one picture with his ex.”

You knew she was just teasing, but she was still right.

“Shut up, I just haven’t seen her before. I knew about her but seeing a picture of them together feels different.”

“Y/n you have the fattest crush on this guy come on just admit it.”

“It’s not a crush! I just think he’s an interesting person, and he’s attractive, and he likes me, soo..”

“So what? Are you gonna try to fuck your professor?”

“MIA” You shouted, and grabbed a pillow to hit her with.

“Come on if I had a professor that hot I would too! And you already know he’s into you too.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“He’s my professor, that’s the problem.” You sighed. “And my customer. Starting anything with him is a bad idea.”

“It’s definitely a bad idea, but it could be really fun.”

“An hour ago you thought I was crazy for letting him drive me home and now you’re telling me I should sleep with my professor just cause he’s hot?!”

“Well I didn’t know what he looked like then! You should’ve at least told me he was cute.”

“You’re so shallow!”

“I’m not shallow! Y/n you need some spice in your life, maybe he could be good for you. And he’s rich.” Her eyes suddenly went wide, before asking you, “What car does he drive?”

“An Audi... we still don’t know if he is though! He’s still just a professor, remember?”

“You should try to find out how he has all this money, what if he’s secretly a mafia boss or something.”

You only rolled your eyes. Sweet, shy little Baekhyun, a mafia boss? It was laughable. He was way too nice.

“If he is rich, I don’t know how. Maybe he’s just a trust fund baby or something.”

“Yeah maybe, but you’re gonna find out! Did he pay you last night?”

That thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, you assumed your money bag was empty when you got home since you hadn’t given any dances but you hadn’t looked inside of it either. “I don’t know... let me check.”

You got up and went to your room, returning with the bag. You sat back down in the living room with Mia and dramatically unzipped it, before holding it upside down and shaking it. Both you and Mia gasped at what fell out. Hundred after hundred fell until your living room couch was decorated with hundred dollar notes.

“What the fuck...” You heard Mia whisper, obviously just as shocked as you.

You gathered the money and counted the bills. Over two thousand dollars had been in that bag. You looked at your friend in disbelief. “He must’ve paid me for every hour I was asleep...”

“Holy shit”

“I have to give it back, this is too much.” You started shoving the money back into the bag, but Mia grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Are you crazy? He gave you the money for a reason! You’re basically set for the rest of the semester now.” She was looking you in the eyes intently now, not letting you ignore her.

“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t even give him a dance or anything I was literally just asleep and then cried a lot, he shouldn’t have paid me at all.” You said, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It’s your money and I can’t tell you what to do with it but I’d keep it if I were you. You’ll probably just hurt his feelings trying to give it back.”

“I don’t care. I’m giving it back. Especially if he is just a professor I don’t want him spending any more money on me.”

“It’s up to you...” She looked skeptical. You knew she wanted you to keep the money so she could reap some of the benefits as well, although she would’ve never admitted to it. Deep down you just couldn’t help but worry that Baekhyun couldn’t afford to give you that much. You had to at least try to give it back.

The rest of Sunday went by in a blur of netflix movies and youtube videos. Sundays were your lazy days, a sacred tradition you were dedicated to keep. You knew however that when Monday rolled around, you were going to have to try to give Baekhyun his money back. You weren’t sure what that would look like, but for now the plan was to just corner him after class and tell him he needed it more than you did. Hopefully, he would accept it and that would be the end of it.

Class on Monday was even more confusing than the previous days. You felt like you understood less with each passing class period, not more. The concepts he talked about only got more and more abstract, to the point where you had little clue what was going on at all.

You were anxious about class ending as well, since you were going to have to face him to try to return his money.

Eventually the lecture ended, and today you had to wait for several other students to talk to him first before he could get to you. They all had questions about their essays, the essay you had yet to even start.

You knew Baekhyun saw you waiting and purposefully made you go last, although this time you were grateful.

“Do you need help with you essay too?” He asked once he was done talking to the last student. You shook your head.

You glanced towards the door, making sure the last student was out of the room before before pulling out the stack of cash that had been in your bag Sunday morning. “I can’t accept this.” You said, placing it on his desk.

Baekhyun looked surprised, however he still wasn’t going to make this easy for you.

“Why not?” He asked simply, looking genuinely confused.

“I have plenty of money already, from you. I didn’t even give you a dance or anything and I know you don’t make THAT much as a professor and I just-”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me y/n. Just keep it. I promise I’ll be just fine without it.”

“No. You need it more than I do, I already have enough to keep me going for a while and this was too much, I didn’t even do anything to deserve it.”

“Y/n. Please. Just take it.” The look on his face was tired. You could tell he was telling the truth, he wanted you to have it, but that didn’t stop you from feeling guilty, and you weren’t taking no for an answer.

“You’re a college professor, not some hotshot CEO, I know you don’t have this kind of money Baekhyun. I’m not keeping it.” You said, crossing your arms.

Baekhyun just sighed, scratching the back of his head. He looked annoyed, but also somehow.. sad?

“I told you there’s a lot you don’t know about me. And I’m not taking it back.” He said staring down at the wad of cash. Obviously he wasn’t taking no for an answer either.

“Baekhyun pleaaase” You looked at him again, giving him your best puppy eyes but he wasn’t having it. His face remained stoic, the only visible emotion was a twinge of what looked like sadness.

“Y/n...” He sighed again. “I’m going to my office now. You can come with me, or you can take your money and go home.” He said sternly.

You pouted, but picked the money back up, shoved it back in your pocket, and followed him anyway. Eventually he unlocked the door to what you assumed to be his office and he held the door for you to walk in. He sat down at his desk, and you sat across from him on the other side. As you looked around, you couldn’t help but smile at how Baekhyun the office was. The space was very cozy, filled with little trinkets and lots of books, all of which you were sure would make absolutely no sense to you. Everything felt so much like him. He had pictures of him and his friends sprinkled throughout as well, and the room even smelled like his comforting scent.

You took the wad of cash back out of your pocket and placed it on his desk. He didn’t acknowledge it.

Once both of you were sitting down, an awkward silence filled the air. Baekhyun was sitting right across from you, but instead of the usual intense eye contact you’d grown accustomed to, he was staring solemnly down at his desk.

He was the first one to break the silence.

“My parents died in a freak accident last December.” He said it without looking up at you, eyes still fixated on his desk. “A semi hit them going 20 over. They both died on impact.”

Your stomach lurched. “Baekhyun wh-”

“Between the two of them they had quite a bit of money. I inherited it. I could quit this job if I wanted to. I have more than I even know what to do with, so just keep the money, please.”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know...” Your voice was barely loud enough for Baekhyun to hear. Finally he looked up and you met his eyes.

“There’s no way you could’ve. I understand why you probably thought what you did but I definitely don’t need it, so keep it.”

“But-”

“If anything” he interrupted “I feel bad I couldn’t give you more. We were up there longer than what I paid you for but that’s all the cash I had on me and I didn’t wanna have to leave you alone to go to the ATM.”

“Baekhyun, I...”

“You can go now, sorry if that was uncomfortable but I wanted to tell you before you insisted on giving the money back.” He said, scooting the cash back towards your end of the desk. His expression was once again blank, making it impossible for you to try to figure out what was going on in his head.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry about your parents.”

Although he had told you you could leave, you found yourself planted in the chair and against your better judgement, you stayed. Maybe it was the cozy feel of the room, or the comforting smell of old books and vanilla, but you didn’t want to leave yet.

“Were you really close with them?”

He smiled at your question, and because you were still sitting in front of him, even though you didn’t have to be.

“Yeah, they were amazing parents. They always supported the things I was passionate about. Lots of parents would get mad at their kid for studying something as useless as philosophy but they always had my back.” He sighed solemnly, the sadness making it’s way onto his face. “You never really learn to appreciate things until they’re taken from you. I should’ve visited them more often, told them I loved them more. Everything I have now is because of them.”

“I’m sure they were really proud of you.”

“Yeah, luckily I was able to make the best out of my degree. Most people who study philosophy aren’t as lucky and end up doing something totally unrelated. I at least get to teach people about something I’m passionate about.”

“Is that why you keep working here even if you don’t need the money?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “ And I know my parents wouldn’t want me to quit just because of the money. It would also get awfully boring to just sit around at home all day and not work anyway. I like having somewhere to go and feel productive.” He paused for a second, eyes meeting yours again. “And if I wasn’t here I wouldn’t get to see you.” His face turned up into a smile with his last sentence.

At first his words made you think he was just trying to find an excuse to hit on you, but his face told a different story. His smile was so gentle and welcoming, it didn’t feel like any kind of sexual advance, just his raw emotions. Emotions that he was willing to show you without any filter. Baekhyun had always been so open with his feelings with you, it made you feel even worse for how hesitant you were about your own.

You couldn’t help the pink tint growing on your cheeks at his statement.

“You’re blushing.” He said, now grinning.

“Shut up.” You tried to hide your face, but with him sitting directly across from you, staring intently there was nothing you could hide.

“You’re lucky I like you enough to let you talk to me like that, any other student would be in trouble.”

“So you admit I get special treatment?” You asked, leaning back in the chair and crossing your arms, one eyebrow raised at him.

Before answering, Baekhyun leaned towards you, resting an elbow on the desk, halving the distance between the two of you. “Sweetheart, I’ve never even spoken to a student outside of campus. Special treatment is an understatement.”

Your face turned an even deeper shade of red at his use of the pet name, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” He asked you as casually as one would ask about the weather. Your eyes widened, not at all expecting him to ask such a thing.

For a moment you just stared at him in disbelief, hoping he’d say something else but his expression remained the same. Eventually you shook your head, but before he could ask you anything more you had your own question for him.

“What happened with your ex?”

Immediately his face fell into a deep frown. You’d caught him off guard again, and this time he didn’t quite know what to say.

“Well...” He said, still pausing to think. “After I got the inheritance from my parents things just changed. All we did was fight about money. She didn’t even seem to care that my parents were dead. She just wanted access to the money. Eventually she realized I wasn’t going to give it to her and she left me.”

“I’m so sorry, that’s awful.”

“But that’s how I got to meet you.” He smiled, taking one of your hands in his. “I’m glad she left me when she did, and Chanyeol talked me into going to the club that night.”

“Baekhyun...” You felt yourself getting scared again. The things he was telling you and the way he held your hand was beginning to feel too intimate, to a point where you were becoming anxious. You felt an unfamiliar sensation blooming in the pit of your stomach.

“I remember when he pitched the idea to me, I called him a dumbass.” He laughed. “I really didn’t wanna go but he dragged me in there.”

“Well I’m glad he did too.” You responded shyly, before you could think twice about your own words.

Now it was Baekhyun's turn to blush. He was already shocked enough that you were willingly staying in his office, hearing you say something that flirty to him sent his mind into chaos.

“Y/n...” He grabbed both of your hands now, looking into your eyes with that familiar intensity. “Do you.. like me? Not as a customer or a professor, but as a man?”

He had been wanting to ask you since Saturday night, but couldn’t find the courage. He knew how terrible of an idea it was to be having this conversation with one of his students, but when it came to you all rational thought seemed to fly out the window. He had stayed up all night torturing himself with the thought. He needed to know.

But you could only stare back wordlessly. Not because you didn’t want to tell him no, but because you couldn’t deny to yourself that you did like him. You just couldn’t get the words out. It was one thing to feel something deep inside your heart. It was another to be able to say it out loud.

Baekhyun quickly noticed your discomfort and withdrew his hands. “You don’t have to answer that, sorry. But you know how I feel about you. I just need to know. Whatever your answer is, whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’ll accept it. If you want me to leave you be, just tell me and we can act like we never knew each other before last Monday.”

But you didn’t want that, not at all. Your feelings for him had only grown and you couldn’t see yourself ever going back to only seeing him as your professor. It was too late for that now that you knew what his arms felt like wrapped around you.

“I know I don’t want that.” You said so quietly, it was almost inaudible. But Baekhyun still heard you.

His eyes widened in surprise, but his smile found its way back into his face as well. “I really hoped you wouldn’t choose that. But whatever you do decide, will be fine by me.”

“Okay.” You spoke, as you got up out of your chair. “I should go. Thank you for explaining everything.”

“Don’t forget this” he said, holding the wad of cash. You sighed, and took it from him, shoving it back in your pocket “and thank you for listening.”

Baekhyun waved you goodbye as you exited his office, shooting you another gorgeous smile that you couldn’t help but return. As you walked back home you felt that same unfamiliar feeling still blooming in your stomach. You tried to ignore it, but it was unmistakable. This is what people were talking about, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you talked to someone you liked. You’d felt it before with past flings and crushes, but never as much as now.

And the more you let yourself think about it, the clearer it became to you. You were becoming just as fucked for him as he was for you.

Next Chapter

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo smut

263 notes · View notes

mrs-cavill-wife · 4 years ago

Text

Safe And Happy (One Shot)

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female Reader (Barbara)

Warning: Language. Fluff. Minor Injury. Zombie Apocalypse. Gun shot. Persecution. Please, say if I miss something.

Author's Note: My second fanfic, YAY! Henry is not a celebrity in this fanfic. Duh! It's a zombie apocalypse so it's kinda obvious but I wanted to say it anyway. Hope you guys enjoy it and reblog if you do. I'm all ears to feedback!

Tag List: @lexyvaldez26 @thereisa8ella @natura1phenomenon @mrsavery @number1chonie @themanfromu @littlefreya @legendarywizarddetective @lovingbearherringhairdo @zealoushound @deangal-101 @everydaymultifandom @summersong69 @jgtfvhsg @tellingyouastory @sillyrabbit81 @nuggsmum @pussyverson @oh-for-fic-sake @foodieforthoughts @fanficlover91 @r-t-doll @its--fandom--darling @poledancingdinos @hlkwrites @rmtndew

Summary: The world is a dangerous place now, but in the arms of the man she loves, she always finds security.

Barbara's P.O.V

Shit. I miss when the world used to be good. It was never perfect but no doubt it were way better than now.

An zombie apocalypse, who could have imagined that this could actually happen? Who knew that one day I would be armed, with a "beautiful" wound on my leg, hiding in an abandoned store, running away from a horde of about fifty zombies, crazy and thirsty for some human flesh.

I got hurt entering here, there was a piece of wood that grazed my leg, but luckily I had some bandage on the bag, I tied it to my leg to stop the blood. I looked at my leg and sighed, frustrated with myself.

"What the fuck dressing did you do, huh? My man is going to be pissed"

I live with my boyfriend, well husband, wasn't exactly official but we are together, he's amazing with dressings, but of course, I never pay attention when he tried to explain it to me. I'm hiding, trying to calm my breathing and think of a new plan, I don't know if I'll be able to run with my leg like that, but I think partially, it's really my fault. I'm often on those situations, I have my skills but I might not be the best, I still remember when I meet my boyfriend, on this type of shit cliche situation, today I don't complain for being dumb back there..

We met a year ago, I was running away.. again. I remember going into a dead end street, my gun had only two bullets left, I managed to kill some of those brain eaters, but I had about ten still behind me. I was already out of breath and couldn't think of anything else.

It was all very fast, suddenly my hero appeared, super skilled, I can't say where he came from but he managed to cut the heads of some of them, cut one in half, he stopped in front of me and fired with a super powerful machine gun, spilling a little blood and a disgusting substance on both of us.

"Hey are you alright, princess?"

He spoke to me after all those butchers fell dead. I was in shock but in seconds, I regained consciousness and was able to notice the man in front of me.

Broad back, fair skin, incredibly neat curly hair, a sharp jawline that could cut my soul, kissable lips.. a beautiful ax, a weapons in the waistband and at least two powerful shotguns in the back. The sun was setting and the light reflected in his eyes. The brightest blue eyes I had ever seen. There was a small brown part in one of them, I had heard about cases of heterochromia, but it was the first time that I saw it right in front of me.

"Your eyes are so beautiful.."

He laughed softly and a little shy. The sweetest laugh I've heard. Oh God, he's so wonderful, I think I died and went to heaven and that angel came to receive me. Maybe I'm not too unlucky after all.. wait, what did I just said? Oh fuck, what a good way of cause a first impression. First you almost die then act like a dumb ass needy teen. I rolled my eyes realizing what I done and he touched my arm.

"Thank you, you're beautiful too.. but are you hurt? What are you doing all by yourself?"

I nodded looking down and blushing red like a tomato.

"Huh I'm fine. I was searching for a place to stay. I heard on radio there was a small group of survivors around here. I'm always alone, so I decided to look for it but I obviously didn't payed attention on the munition I had before risking my butt."

He giggled and soft touched my cheek, wiping away some of the dirty. Gosh, I'm not going to handle and he's not making it easy..

"So it's your lucky day, pretty girl. I am from that group of survivors. They always told me to go round and look for possible new survivors."

I looked at him frowning.

"Now it's my time to ask. All by yourself? Why?"

And he smirked, looking like a made a silly question. Your hot bastard.

"I'm a prepared person. Not bragging but I always check my munition"

Touchee. I crossed my arms looking at him, trying to keep my posture but I was really melting inside.

We heard a loud noise, making us concerned. He grabbed my hand and started walking.

"It doesn't seem far, we must walk. Let's go"

"Where are you taking me? I.. I don't even know your name?"

I stopped moving and he stopped looking a little mad then he sighed.

"I will take you to our shelter. I saved you, you can trust me. We both need a bath and some rest.. and I'm Henry."

He said smiling and I nodded starting to walk by his side.

That day, he took me to the survivors. There were at least four people, some couples and children, all of whom welcomed me very well. But despite that, I thought about leaving the next day, I was always alone and until then, it was how I wanted to be and I would be like this today, if Henry hadn't insisted that I stay. I said I would stay for some days but during that, he convinced me to stay for more weeks and when I realized, we were closer than ever. Actually, those days made me found love. One of the guys of the shelter was a priest before the world was destroyed, Henry and I decided to get married and so it happened. Simple but a beautiful ceremony.

After a few years, we both decided to leave, maybe it was not a smart idea in the current situation, but we were certain of it, so we did. It was difficult, at first from hiding to hiding, sleeping on uncomfortable places, sometimes without enough food for both, we almost died a few times but together, yes, we were unbeatable. But finally, we got a place, safe enough to call home.

Henry's P.O.V

One hour left. I trust her, she's a little clumsy but my girl knows what to do, I taught her some tricks when we met but still, my heart is desperate. Today I received a radio message, it was Stuart, a partner, we have known each other since I was part of a group of survivors, he provided us with food, ammunition and weapons from time to time, even now that I am no longer part of the group, he's a great friend. I always went to get it, alone, I didn't want to risk seeing my Barbara hurt. But today, Stuart said he couldn't come, because of some injuries, so I would have to go, but Barbara decided that her chance to do it this time.

"Barbara.. baby, you don't have to.."

I remember I said trying don't sound like I was doubting her capacities.

"Well on my mind, I do need. You always do that, I feel useless, I'm no princess in danger, i can do that"

I got closer touching her back while she packed her bag with "travel" supplies. She looked at me, touched my face and smiled. I love this smile.

"I'll be alright, I know that area is dangerous but you know I know the way and I had a good survivor teacher"

She said and wrapped her arms around my neck and I hugged her feeling defeated. She never had to say much to convince me of anything. I know she was feeling bad about me doing the hard work and I think she deserves a chance. I need to show I really trust her.

"I will be counting the seconds.."

I sighed and she smiled widely packing my lips many times. She grabbed her bag, her gun and went through the door but before leaving she looked at me one last time.

"I love you"

We both said at same time, making our hearts beat at same rhythm.

She gonna be alright, I know.. at least I hope.

Barbara's P.O.V

I heard a small noise that made me wake up. I dozed off for a while when I expected the horde to calm down and preferably leave. I got up and checked outside by one of the windows. Empty. Thank God. My leg didn't hurt so much anymore, but the fact that the street was clean was a relief to m. I wouldn't have to run, just be careful.

I opened my bag and ate a chocolate bar. Stuart wasn't lying when he said that had good things this time, I got things I hadn't ete in years. I left the store quickly after eating and started walking my way back home.

I was almost closer, I smiled seeing my home. Finally, safe house. when I got on the home's street, had three zombies, between me and my house. Great.

I tried to carefully pass behind them, I was almost there, but again, I didn't pay enough attention, I tripped over something and fell to the floor, over my injured leg, I couldn't contain the scream. They heard and were already walking towards me. F U C K M E.

I looked at my house. It's not so far, I can do it. I ran, fast as I could, my leg was hurting a lot, the bandage already red with my blood but I did it. I could climb the special secret passage through the wall and done. I layed in the grass for a second trying to recover my breath, closing my eyes, finally feeling safe then something fell on top of me. I got scared until I could open my eyes. A beast. A fluffy beast.

"Hey Kal, you scared me baby"

I hugged the big black and white American Akita. It's mine and Henry's dog, our loyal companion, our dog son. We found him on our away to find a new safe place, he were a little injured on the front paws. Of course we felt in love with him and took care of him, we had to keep him and we did.

I petted him a little more before getting up.

"Alright, mommy needs a good break now. Promise to play later. Where's daddy? He had a heart attack?"

Oh he will when see my situation. I walked to inside our house and pulled the food supplies on the kitchen. I was focused until I hear the shower on bathroom upstairs. I smiled.

"What a good way of relax, huh?"

I walked upstairs, taking off my clothes though the way. When I opened the bathrooms door, I was fully naked. Oh that vision. My man, all naked.. that furry defined abs, those strong muscles.. that round booty.. and that big veiny dick, shit, even soft he's huge.. I'm so freaking lucky.

I licked my lips and tried to close the door softly but i ended up making noises.

"Thought I had told you need to be stealthy"

When I turned around, he was looking at me, with those gorgeous eyes that left me speachless since first time. Then he's face changed to worried and I realized he were looking at my wounded leg.

"Barbara, what the fuck just happened?"

I rolled my eyes then got into the shower with him. Before he could say something, I kissed him softly. He kissed me back of some type of way that I could feel how worried he were. Was a intense kiss, our tongues battling against each other, oxygen wasn't this necessary for us at this point. He quickly grabbed me tight and gave me a little boost then I had my legs wrapped around his waist. We ended our kisses with soft pecks and smiles. I looked at him. He had one hand around my back and another softly rubbing closer my wound.

"Hey are you alright, princess?"

I smiled way more with his soft voice and nodded.

"Yes, now I'm safe and happy"

#henry cavill one shot #henrycavill rp #henry cavill #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you

72 notes · View notes

liibrii · 4 years ago

Text

fem!Miya!reader x Ginjima Hitoshi & Akagi Michinari || part of the Third Miya series

Synopsis: It’s just a courage test. Just a nightly walk through a labyrinth of statues. Even the moon refuses to peek out from behind to clouds to witness your stupidity. Oh, did I mention there've been ghosts sighting here? There've been ghost sightings here.

Warnings: cursing, some spooky atmosphere, spooky things happen, some prime examples of sibling love

wc: 2.3k

a/n: should I post this chapter after the one establishing Reader's friendship with the team? Yeah, probably. also what I could do is write a little author's note that Reader is a friend with all the boys on the team and move on from there, ya know?

In case you missed previous chapters, Twins call their sister San, while others simply refer to her as Miya. (I'm experimenting and trying to use y/n as little as possible. lemme know if you like it).

if you wanna be tagged in future chapters lemme know and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

Nothing scared you.

Well, except Mr-No-Gaps Kita Shinsuke but you're pretty sure there isn't a being on this planet that wouldn't be afraid of him so that disqualifies him from this particular competition; or mom that one time she discovered nobody had taken the trash out even though she said to do it several times. And the dark sometimes. And ghosts! Ghosts are spooky. You can't punch a ghost

But other than that nothing scared you.

This nightly walk though is making you reconsider the statement. Maybe the time has come for you to put 'dark' and 'weird noises whose origin you can't see' to the top of the list. Shivers run up your spine and you step faster, closer to Ginjima beside you. He gives you a questioning glance but luckily doesn't say anything. You hope he won't mention it later either. The only thing worse than your brothers finding out what a scaredy cat you're being right now is... Well, nothing would be worse than that.

The Gallery Tangle is what this place is called and you find the name strangely fitting. Stone statues, some crumbling and all overgrown with moss, stand lined by the path going in twists and turns. No matter where you turn cold unseeing eyes watch you. If you were the one choosing the name for this place it would be something along the lines of 'that corner nobody in their right mind would ever go close too'. Some people believe it used to be a cemetery but really it's just a meadow where someone left an unwanted statue once, and then another, and before you knew crowds of curious tourists and stupid teenagers visited the place all the time. Even the moon refuses to peek out from behind to clouds to witness your stupidity. Oh, did I mention there've been ghosts sighting here? There've been ghost sightings here.

So naturally it's the perfect place for a courage test. The only one at fault for this entire situation is Osamu for daring Akagi and Ginjima to go visit the site, and you for falling for his trap when he turned to you and, with that annoyingly sweet voice pretending he's a caring older brother who's just looking out for his little sister, said: “Thank the heaven yer too much of a baby to go out of the house after sunset.“

Yeah well, maybe you are and he knows it, and he also knows the easiest way to get you to do something is to tell you you don't have the guts. It's all a well tested trap you keep falling into. Walking amongst countless silent statues you want to ponder how the mice traps are always so obvious and yet the mice keep falling for them like dummies, but that would be a silly thought to have in the middle of the night and taking your current circumstances into consideration also incredibly hypocritical.

Nothing much scared you, except for Kita Shinsuke, but if you were given a chance to get help from one person right now you'd chose him. As much as the mere thought of him makes you straighten up and check if your clothes are on point you're sure ghosts and demons and other creatures of the night would rethink once or twice before coming closer to bother you. Not to be rude but he'd probably be a better ghost repellent than trembling Ginjima beside you who at the moment is being more of a ghost attractor. Can ghosts sense fear? Apparently even horses can smell fear so why would ghosts be any different? Maybe better for that question to go unanswered.

“Are ya sure we're goin' in the right direction?“ asks Gin.

“Maybe.“

“Akagi-san ya do know that's not the answer we wanna hear right now, right?“

“I'm yer senpai so I can't lie to ya,“ answers Akagi and you wish he wasn't your senpai so you could give him the well deserved kick in the shin. As Osamu would put it, getting a straight answer out of him was sometimes harder than eating udon noodles with only one chopstick. Your smart-ass replied with 'Just drink them', which was a funny response at the time, a justifiable enough reason for Osamu to slap your head, but in the end this solution didn't really apply to the libero. “We're takin' a little detour to avoid inhabitants of this place,“ Akagi says and if you didn't know him better you'd think his words were meant to reassure you.

“Ya mean the statues? I don't think they really mind us trespassin'.“

“Ah no, not the statues.“ He turns and points his torch up to light up his face. “I meant ghosts.“

“Ha ha, very funny,“ you say pretending a shiver didn't just run up your spine. Your hold on your own torch tightens.

“Skepticism doesn't suit ya Miya. There's a ghost of a little boy hidin' round here. Ever since his old house was demolished he walks around lookin' for his parents.“

“Sure he does,“ you answer and quickly change the topic because if Akagi doesn't stop you're sure Gin will climb in your arms and the question if you're strong enough to carry him is another one you don't want to know the answer to. “Where did Samu say he left the scarf?“

When Ginjima answers his voice is strangely high pitched: “By the statue of an old lady with a cat.“

Akagi nods. “We should split up so-“

“No!“ you and Ginjima half yell.

“We could get lost,“ you add, feeling heat rise on your cheeks.

“Exactly,“ Ginjima agrees, “look how many statues there are! It's a labyrinth 'round here!“

Akagi gives in without much convincing with a gleam in his eyes you really don't like because it looks suspiciously similar to the gleam Atsumu has before blackmailing you with one of too many embarrassing things he knows. “Right, right, last time I was here the cat lady was on the other end.“

“Was?“ Ginjima follows close behind and you're just glad to have you back covered.

“Statues move sometimes. Usually when no one is lookin'.“

“Funny,“ is all you say.

Still, as you continue the expedition you don't let your gaze wander around. It's not like you could see anything anyway. It's too dark! At least that's what you keep telling yourself. Anything could hide out there.

You shudder. Why did you think it was a good idea to leave without taking a hoodie? As if summer nights aren't chilly. Or maybe you just walked past a cold spot where ghosts linger. Now that sounds like something Akagi would tell you.

You're acutely aware of how close Ginjima is walking and you're glad he is. His shoulder bumping into yours every now and then and the sound of his steps are the last things keeping you from letting your imagination run free.

That's the thing about imagination. It makes the pile of unfolded clothes look like a child crawling out of the floor. It makes sitting stone statues seem to blink and turn their heads when you pass by.

When you nervously glance over at Ginjima you notice he's clenching his jaw so hard you start fearing for his teeth. He puts you at ease. As much as that is possible while walking in the dead of night around seemingly endless line of statues. If he was as carefree as Akagi you would, all your foolish pride be damned, most likely burst into tears right then and there.

The nearby bushes rustle and maybe it's just the wind, or a cat on a nightly adventure, or maybe it's something entirely different, but whatever it is lures you into making the mistake of looking over at the statues, where you catch a pale face with unblinking eyes behind long, black hair staring back at you. You scream. Jump, trip over a stone and end in Ginjima's arms, your ears ringing from the high pitched shriek you presume is his.

Akagi jumps too and points his torch around to see what made both of you finally lose the brave facade. He searches around the statues but there's nothing to be found. “It's gone now.“

“Ya sure?“

“What was it?“

“A white face and... black hair.“

“So, a ghost?“ asks Akagi and you nod, holding tightly on Gin as if your life depended on it. A sly smile spreads across Akagi's face. “See, I told ya there's ghosts.“

“Not helpin' ,“ says Gin as Akagi's words make you shudder.

Only then does it hit you Ginjima is holding you bridal style and you swiftly climb back down, still shaken and now completely embarrassed as well. You don't even dare think how much bribing will take to convince Akagi to keep his mouth shut about this. Oh, if your brothers find out they will never let you live it down.

“Maybe we should go home,“ suggests Ginjima still holding you up because your knees turned to pudding.

“Like hell we are,“ you sneer, the blood rush turning fear into burning determination. If this is what it takes to shut Samu's annoying shit mouth, then so be it. “Cat lady, right? I bet she's this way.“ You pick up your torch light and head into the wrong direction.

“Miya, we have to go right,“ Akagi calls after you.

“I am goin' right!“

“The other right.“

You turn on your heels and head into the 'other right' direction. You think you hear Akagi snicker. Step by step your sudden burst of determination and fearlessness drains but like hell are you going to show it. It's just ghosts and spooky demons and maybe some cursed children, what are they going to do? Scare you? Joke's on them, you're already scared! And cold, and embarrassed, and you just want to find that damn scarf already and go home.

It waits neatly wrapped around the cat's neck. It's eyes have an almost mocking look. As if the stone is judging you for taking on this courage test in the first place. Well, you think, it ain't wrong.

“There, now we can go,“ you proclaim when your trembling fingers finally manage to unknot the silky fabric, and as if some cruel fate or inhabitants of this eerie place watched you only a few statues away something rustles.

All three of you freeze and listen. In the distance you can hear cars driving by. A late night train stops by the station.

“What was that?“ asks Gin.

You stuff the scarf into your pocket. “Doesn't matter, we got what we-“

“Let's go check it out!“

“O hell no,“ is the first thing that leaves your mouth but for some reason Akagi thinks it's a sunny Sunday afternoon and the perfect time for a stroll.

“Let's go,“ Gin nudges you to get you to follow Akagi but you don't budge.

“No.“

“He's our senpai Miya, we can't just let him wander off.“ He lowers his voice. “He might get in trouble.“

“Let him. I've had enough of this place,“ you say and head into the opposite direction. Ginjima hesitates, casts a few lost glances between you and Akagi before he decides the prospect of something happening to you would get him into much bigger trouble. “Are ya okay?“ he asks when he catches up.

You give a stiff nod. All you want is to get away from this place.

It doesn't take long for Akagi to come running back. “It was nothin',“ he says, out of breath and smiling as always but if you'd pay more attention you'd notice he's a bit paler.

And you are about to find out why.

A white figure appears from behind one of the statues, howling and shrieking, or maybe that's Akagi and Ginjima. Your heart stops for a mere moment before jumping into overdrive. You grip your torch, step back with one leg to gain momentum, and chuck your only source of light into what you guess is ghosts head.

“Aargh!“ shrieks the ghost before it starts screaming its lungs out at you, “Are ya stupid?! Ya could've hurt me ya shithead!“ It pulls the sheet off to reveal a very irritated Atsumu rubbing his forehead where the torchlight hit him. “OW!“ he shrieks again when you kick his shin. You'd probably kick him again for good measure if another figure, this one clad in black and with an oni mask, didn't jump from behind the statues and scare you into leaping in the air. The figure laughs and avoids the kick aimed at it's knee. “Samu!“ you shriek. “This isn't funny!“

“It is a little,“ says Akagi and to his luck he's your senpai and standing out of your reach. At least Ginjima doesn't look amused by your utter embarrassment.

In an effort to regain some of your pride you pull out the scarf and chuck it into Osamu's face. “Here, yer kitchen cloth.“

“San don't speak about mom's clothes like that,“ teases Atsumu who at the stare you send him immediately takes a careful step back.

Osamu pinches your cheeks and not even a death glare stops his teasing: “Maybe ya ain't such a baby after all. But ya do scream like one.“

“Absolutely hilarious,“ you deadpan. “Who was the white faced lady? Suna?“

“What white face?“

“Don't play with me ya shit pig. The one that almost gave Gin a heart attack!“

“Ya screamed louder than me-“

“That wasn't us,“ your brothers shake their head. You don't believe them because, why would you?

Akagi bursts into laughter. “Maybe ya saw a real ghost after all!“

A... a real... ghost. The rest of you exchange uncomfortable glances.

Gin is the first to speak. “It's gettin' a little chilly. Maybe we should,“ he gestures towards the path, and you nod, enthusiastically.

“It is gettin' late. We'll hear it if we come home past curfew,“ says Osamu.

Walking away you don't want to look back but something compels you to throw a quick glance over your shoulder. Wide unblinking eyes stare as you leave, face ghostly white and almost glowing in the dead of night.

Or maybe it's just your imagination.

tag list: @espressons @trashy-simp @nachotrash @megumiisee @foxxtrot-116

in case you’re curious, Gallery tangle is based on a real life Statue village in Japan.

#ginjima x reader #akagi x reader #ginjima hitosh #akagi michinari #ginjima hitoshi x reader #hqcorenet #akagi michinari x reader #haikyuu ginjima #hq #haikyuu #inarizaki x platonic reader #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki x y/n #inarizaki imagine #inarizaki #the third miya #libri scribbles

84 notes · View notes

noxtms · 3 years ago

Photo

❝ WITH HOPE OF PROMOTING ( AND STRENGHTENING ) COMMUNITY SPIRIT, a small number of past & present members of the appleby arrows have joined forces with diagon alley businessowners and wix world volunteers to host the appleby autumnfest from october 6th to october 12th ! the 11th annual festival will take place just outside of the village of appleby, and will be protected, week long, by strong muggle repelling charms ! prior festivals have drawn thousands of wix and we are once again expecting a huge crowd to come out and enjoy the food and fun arranged for this year ! a number of exciting events have been arranged, including a blood drive and charity relay on the 10th, all in aid of st mungo’s hospital. come one, come all, and enjoy what autumnfest has to offer you ! ❞

WHO, WHAT, WHEN, WHERE :

the appleby autumnfest ( say that three times fast ) is a celebration of the spookest season endorsed by past & present members of the appleby arrows, located JUST outside of the sleepy little village the dismal quidditch team hails from. running from october 6th to october 12th, inclusive, it’s considered a family friendly precursor of sorts to the halloween celebrations along diagon alley, later in the month.

ministry officials lend their hand to placing a few strong muggle repelling charms over the festival area, which includes three large fields kindly borrowed from their muggle owners for the duration of the event. of course there’s a pumpkin patch ( where you can take home a wheelbarrow of pumpkins made of all shapes and sizes for the tiny asking price of two galleons ), but there’s also an impressive maze made of maize that appears and takes form overnight, and that disappears in much the same fashion at event end. these fields sit either side of the main event area, where wooden boothes sell reasonable priced wares & friendly wix have volunteered to run an impressive number of autumnfest games.

there’s fun for wix of all ages with classic games such as bobbing for crab apples, pin the tail on the thestral, a potato sack race, carved pumpkin golf and a ring toss that sees brave wix trying to loop a plastic hoop onto the many legs of a fake acromantula - and it wouldn’t be half as fun without the opportunity to win some cheap prizes ! when you’ve swung by every booth and given each game a shot, there’s plenty of booths serving the stickiest and sweetest autumnfest treats, so don’t miss the opportunity to wash down a caramel apple and funnel cake with a cup of homemade hot apple cider !

and that’s not all ! this year, the usual fun comes accompanying an opportunity to do good in the form of a spooky scary blood drive in aid of st mungo’s on the 10th, followed ( yes, followed - it’s really rather bad timing, on their behalf ) by a charity relay, with sign up fee and additional donations going straight to the hospital itself in its time of need. volunteers will be randomly paired up and magically tied to one another at the ankle, all the better to participate in several relay style games like a ~ faux ~ dragon egg & shovel race and a gruesome hand - in - pumpkin golden apple search that’ll all, eventually, lead one pair to victory ( and a tacky plastic trophy ) and the rest ... not to victory, anyway, but there’s a 50/50 shot of developing close friendship or seething hatred by the end of it !

OUT OF CHARACTER :

another season, another festival in the spirit of said season ! the appleby autumnfest is one half of october’s lineup, and kicks off yet another opportunity to take part in the noxtms galleon system ! that is, of course, all well and good - but something that was quite important to me was working out a way to have another ‘sign up & get randomly partnered’ opportuntity since our last one was so long ago, and i really hope you guys get as much a kick out of the relay as i’ve had in imagining it ! there’ll be a channel on the discord to put forward names, and your partners will be up by sunday ! please remember, though, that as with all of these arrangements - you will be required to do at least one thread with your partner.

this event officially begins today ( wednesday the 6th ) with the posting of this message !

it will last for two weeks, though you are not currently required to pause any current threads. you’ll be given a heads up if that’s going to change at any point !

all event starters should be tagged nox.event018, and the location is appleby ! don’t forget to keep the galleon system in mind for this event, as threads can earn you points !

if you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to message the main with them ! please comment ‘boo’ on this post to show you’ve read it !

#nox.event018 #nox.event #hp rp #harry potter rp #appless rp #fandom rp #canon rp #oc rp

20 notes · View notes

paralleledmediaexperience · 3 years ago

Text

a part 2 to this ficlet as requested by @xanthomonus in the notes! I’ve got at least one more part conceptualized (no way you can guess what’ll happen there) though i may extend it or add more, so if anyone would like to be tagged let me know!!

Sam is insistent that they try to research ways to get Cas back. Jack has explained that Amara won’t fail- it is simply the process of extracting an Angel from the Empty that takes time, since she didn’t want to wake or anger it like… well, like what Jack had done. He could feel Amara’s sincerity in a way that he was certain Sam and Dean wouldn’t understand, let alone be comforted by. She’d been in his head, crossed with his soul in the transfer of power. He’s kind of sure that if he hadn’t missed Cas so much too, she probably would have ignored Dean’s request altogether.

But it makes Sam look less frazzled when he’s able to lose himself in the research for something, and Jack doesn’t mind sitting with him and pretending he’s not hiding chapter books behind the large tomes. He’s been working his way steadily through some books Sam had collected for him last time they had been out shopping, and while he had enjoyed the first one (a mystery about siblings called the Boxcar children even though they no longer lived in a boxcar) he’d chosen Matilda next, because she sounded nice. And he was right! Matilda was his new favorite, even more than his last favorite, which had been Where the Wild Things Are.

He doesn’t even notice when Dean walks in, because Matilda had just glued a hat to her father’s head, but he does when Sam says, “What, none for me?”

“You’re a grown man, Sammy, you can make your own food. He’s four years old with a foot injury.” Dean says, scowling at Sam. The effect is rather ruined by both Dean’s flour dusted apron and the plate in his hands, and Jack smiles when he turns back to him instead. “You both missed lunch.”

Sam grumbles, but gets up anyway, stretching. “If you didn’t make me food how could I have missed it?”

“Shut up,” Dean shoots back half-heartedly. “Here, Jack, and don’t let him steal off your plate just because he got distracted reading.”

“Thanks, Dean!” Jack says brightly, moving his secret reading setup to the table instead of his lap and pushing it away, ignoring the way Sam’s eyebrows raise when he notices his no longer hidden book. Dean sets the plate down and ignores that Sam sends him one last annoyed face before heading off to the kitchen, where Jack knows there is going to be a plate ready for Sam, or at least a serving of the macaroni and cheese sprinkled with bacon bits and breadcrumbs that Dean’s brought him. “Are you making something else?”

“Just some bread,” Dean grimaces down at the mess of flour across his front, and Jack has to contain his giggles when the movement reveals a streak of flour in Dean’s hair.

“Just some bread,” Sam echoes, swinging back through the door with his own plate of macaroni. “Dean. Do I need to remind you that we need vegetables and can’t live off of carbs and meat alone?”

“It’s macaroni, Sam, quit whining and just enjoy it,” Dean rolls his eyes. “I swear, you’re the pickiest-”

“It’s not being picky, it’s eating healthy-”

“Same difference!” Dean insists, his twitching lips betraying the irritation in his voice.

“Just one meal with something green a day, Dean, I’m begging you.”

Eyes flicking back and forth as they snipe at each other, Jack takes an appreciative bite of the macaroni. Expectedly delicious, because Dean made it and Dean didn't make bad food the way Sam sometimes did. Mostly.

“Then beg,” Dean proclaims stubbornly, eyes narrowed. Sam doesn’t respond, his own expression pinching up into very familiar exasperation.

“Actually, I’ve never had brussel sprouts before, and Claire said I should try them!” Jack interjects. He isn’t sure what a brussel sprout is beyond a vegetable, but Claire had said he’d like them and that he should bother Dean into making them.

Dean looks unimpressed though, gaze switching from Sam back to meet Jack’s eyes. “You want me to make you brussel sprouts?”

“Please?” Jack tries, unsure if Dean thinks there is something wrong with brussel sprouts or if he is still simply offended by the concept of vegetables.

The please works, Dean’s capitulation coming in the form of a displeased huff and an, “Alright, fine.” He swings back around to point at Sam accusingly. “I’m blaming you for this.”

“As long as we get something from each of the five food groups, sure,” Sam says, taking his seat again. “And no, you don’t get to use tomatoes as the catch all.”

“Fine,” Dean bites out again, clapping Jack on the shoulder as he starts to turn away.

“Thank you Dean! Love you!” Jack says, and he hears Sam’s quick inhale just as he sees Dean almost stumble and he smiles to himself.

“Love you too, kid,” Dean manages to get out, hand squeezing just a bit tighter on his shoulder. “Alright, go back to your books, I have to go to the store for brussel sprouts apparently.”

The speed at which Dean walks away couldn’t be called running away but Jack definitely thinks it qualifies as retreating, and he straightens up a bit, very proud of himself for receiving his second ‘love you’ from Dean in twice as many days. He watches Dean get out the door before turning back around in his seat.

Sam is staring at him with a blinking mixture of incredulity and open affection, the smile on his face wide, if confused. “That’s… new?”

“Yep,” Jack confirms, pulling Matilda back towards himself and abandoning the pretense of reading the book Sam had suggested he search through. Sam had already searched it himself twice. He doesn’t manage to open it, because Sam continues.

“And I don’t need to check that it’s actually Dean?” Sam teases, bewilderment clear and pride clearer. “Saying yes to vegetables AND and I love you?”

“It turns out,” A voice whipcracks out, startling them both, “That Dean Winchester is actually a big old softie at heart. Who knew?”

“Balthazar?” Sam says, and Jack almost gets bowled over by the wave of shock. Balthazar? He knew that name. He stares openly, unheeded as Balthazar talks to Sam.

“Well, except Castiel, of course, but that Profound Bond of theirs hardly makes it fair,” The angel says, stepping forward. “Yes, Sam, I’ve been hand delivered back from the dead, at the temporary cost of my Grace. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Your grace?” Jack asks, curious about how Sam had been looking at him, but unwilling to turn around and take his eyes off of the angel Cas had once killed. “What do you mean?”

“Ah,” Balthazar strides over, and before Jack can say anything he’s got him clasped by both shoulders, staring into his eyes with a curiosity so intense Jack almost steps back towards the table. “And you’re Jack, I assume? I was warned that there would be no murdering of nephilim if I returned.”

“So Amara freed you?” Sam cuts in, and Jack huffs out a small breath as Balthazar lets him go to spin back around and face him. “Did she have a reason?”

Jack doesn’t voice his own question, which feels far more important. He wants to know when Cas will be back.

“Uh, yes?” Balthazar sneers. “Most of the angels are dead, Sam, no thanks to you and your brother and my brother. I’ll admit some of us deserved it- were rather asking for it, if you ask me- but it did leave dear aunty with rather less personnel than she wants to run heaven with.”

“She’s not grabbing all the angels, is she?” Jack breathes, terrified suddenly, despite Balthazar’s assurance that Amara had apparently set him off limits.

“Not a chance. Seemed to have a list in mind, and I think I was simply the first she found. I thought perhaps…” He trails off, just for a split second before he grins again, bright and covering up anything he might have been about to show. “Well, I didn’t, actually. Rather hard to do when you’re sleeping in eternal torment.”

Jack catches Sam’s flinch, and frowns at the other man. “Are you sure you were the first?”

Balthazar ticks his head to one side, considering. “Well, I’m the first to show up here, I’ll assume by your reactions, and given that she’s bringing us back graceless, I imagine any others will also be sent here.”

Jack scowls. If so, then Cas may be further off than he hoped. But this was- conclusive proof. Amara could do it, and now they would just have to deal with powerless angels until she came back and dealt with them herself. And Cas would be home.

Sam sighs, deep and weary and cheerless. “Yeah. That would make sense. Well, we can put this away, then.” He closes the book on the table with a hefty thump and then stacks Jack’s abandoned tome on top of it. “And I suppose we should try to make sure we have rooms ready. Jack, would you-”

“I’ll call Dean and let him know,” Jack says, suddenly tired and wanting to get away from Balthazar, still staring at him hawkishly, wanting to be away from the library, where more angels could show up without warning. He wants to hide in his room or possibly Cas’ until Amara brings him back and takes all the others back to heaven or whatever she planned to do. He wishes viciously in his head that he hadn’t opened his mouth about brussel sprouts and that Dean was still here in the kitchen where Jack could escape to without feeling alone. As it is, he grabs Matilda and his plate, still half full of macaroni, ready to walk away, but he catches Balthazar’s face again.

“You’re hungry,” Jack realizes as he says it. Balthazar has a facial journey of his own to deal with that fact before he grimaces.

“Human,” he says, displeasure and embarrassment warring on his features, even as his stomach growls.

Jack doesn’t want Balthazar here, he doesn’t want Amara to try to find anyone but Cas, or at least to find Cas first, and he most definitely doesn’t want to share his food that Dean made him, or Dean and Sam’s attention in general, and he swallows all of this down and he says, “Here. If you’ve never been human before, you’ve never really tasted food, right? Dean’s always makes the best food.”

He holds out the plate and drops it into Balthazar’s hands and tries his best not to stomp out like a real child, or run out like he’s scared, but he makes it around the corner and leans against the wall, out of sight.

Except that Sam immediately pokes his head around, following him. “Jack?”

“I don’t like this,” Jack says plainly, staring up at Sam like maybe he could explain why all of the good feelings he’d been having had shriveled up in his stomach and refused to leave, even though Sam clearly didn’t think Balthazar was an actual threat to them.

“I could tell,” Sam says, almost teasing again, but he drops it immediately. “Is it okay, Jack? Because we can absolutely just send him and any others that show up to the nearest motel instead.”

“No,” He says immediately, but he pauses after, thinking. He takes a deep breath in, trying to ease the odd tightness inside his chest. “No. They can stay here until Amara gets back. I just…”

“Don’t like it,” Sam nods, as if that explains it, and Jack guesses it does. “Well, Dean won’t like it either, so you can let him know that the two of you are free to hole up wherever you’d like to get away from them, and I’ll try to deal with them myself as much as I can.”

The tightness in his chest does soften, another breath rushing out like he’d been holding it. “Thanks, Sam.”

“You know I love you too, Jack,” Sam says, earnest and open and Jack barely makes the decision to hug him but he ends up wrapped up in Sam’s arms anyhow.

“I do. I know. Love you, Sam,” Jack says, fixing his grip on Matilda as he pulls away. “Okay, I need to go call Dean, because if he leaves the store before-”

“He won’t want to turn around, yeah,” Sam laughs.

Jack can’t help the smile that bursts across his face. “Well, I can’t use it too often, or it might not work anymore, but maybe if I say please.”

#Jack Kline #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Balthazar #supernatural #my fic #creativecaviar #me remembering that time i tricked my cousin into eating brussel sprouts. ehehehehe.#also!!! what the FUCK balthazar's voice is very difficult but also very fun and rewarding to write so PLEASE tell me whether it reads okay #my in my head: ive seen four year olds become territorial when their parents have visitors this is gonna be SO funny #anyway Jack IS going to get I love you's from all his dads thank you much. we just gotta wait for Cas.#this isn't going on ao3 until i have a good name for it so if you like reading better there suggest a fic name this time so it can go up

42 notes · View notes