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lostinthewiind · 3 years ago

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Piss Off Your Parents - Part 3

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 2

Next →Part 4

Never before had you dreaded something more than you dreaded arriving for work the morning following your incident with Keishin. More than anything, you hoped he was thoroughly pissed at you and had left for work early that day so that the two of you wouldn’t have to see each other, but much to your displeasure and horror, when you stepped into the store that morning, he was sitting at the front counter, waiting for you.

How was he not pissed at you after what you had said to him?

When the sound of the front doors sliding open filled the otherwise silent building, leaving the keys in your hand useless as Keishin had already unlocked the store, you gripped the keys tightly and swallowed hard when he looked up at you. He didn’t say anything at first, maybe because he was waiting to see if you would make the first move, but after last night you were done making first moves when it came to him.

Averting his gaze and dropping your head low, you shoved the keys back into your pocket and headed for the back room to put your stuff away and get this day over with.

Just as you were about to open the door to the back room, Keishin cleared his throat and you stopped in your tracks, head turning to look at him without thinking about it.

“Good morning, Y/N.” This was the very first time he had greeted you first, and on top of that, the very first time he had ever used your name.

You weren’t sure how to respond, confusion and excitement mixing in your body to create an overwhelming concoction. “Good morning,” you mumbled in response before disappearing into the back before he could do anything else out of the ordinary, like God forbid initiate a conversation or something.

You took your sweet time getting ready, delaying heading out to the front of the store as long as possible to give Keishin ample time to leave. After about fifteen minutes or so, you emerged only to find him sitting right where he had been before, newspaper sprawled on the counter and a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Shouldn’t you have left by now?” The questioned slipped past your lips before you even had the chance to filter it through your head.

Eyes wide, Keishin was surprised that you had spoken to him almost as much as you were. “We’re expecting a big delivery today, so I’m sticking around,” he answered. “You’ve never handled one by yourself so my mom asked me to show you how it’s done.”

Your heart sank, your stomach twisted, your knees felt weak. So he was going to be here with you all day long? “Perfect,” you groaned, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm in your tone. “That’s just awesome. Great.”

“Listen, it’s not my idea of an ideal day either, but it is what it is,” he said. “So why don’t we just put last night behind us, chalk it up to exhaustion and the influence of alcohol on my part, and move forward?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, the fact that you couldn’t seem to figure him out thoroughly starting to irritate you. “How are you not angry at me?” you questioned him. “I was . . . horrible last night.”

You had spent the entire night after getting home thinking about the horrendous way you had behaved. The things you had done and said made you feel awful and you couldn’t understand how Keishin wasn’t on the brink of smacking the shit out of you right now.

“It’s fine.” He flashed a smile, trying his best to prove that he wasn’t dwelling on the past. “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

Looking around to double check that the two of you were the only ones in the store, you lowered your voice before speaking. “But I put my hands on you. You can really just forget that?” Heat swelled in your cheeks as you recalled the less horrible events that had taken place.

“I touched you too,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, but yours was an accident.” You weren’t sure why you were saying all of this stuff; it was almost like you wanted him to be angry at you. Who knows, maybe you did. “I called you a burnout.”

Keishin let out a booming laugh at that. “Take a good long look at me, kid.” He smirked, gesturing to himself. “You really think I’ve never been called worse?”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” you breathed out.

Keishin opened his mouth to speak, but before he let a word out, he changed his mind and pressed his lips together. In the meantime, he watched you, the cogs in his head obviously working hard. “You’re an odd one, you know that?” He stood up, walked over to you, and set a hand on your shoulder. “I said it’s fine, so just forget about it, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, finally giving in.

“Good. Now, get to work, because this place isn’t going to run itself and I’m only here to help with the delivery, so until then, I’ll be napping on the couch in the back. Wake me up when the truck gets here.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Keishin gave you a pat on the head and disappeared into the back room without another word.

You stood in place for a moment, unsure if the fact that he had forgiven you so easily was a relief or not. You didn’t allow yourself to worry too long about that though, because, like Keishin had said, you had work to do and the store wasn’t going to run itself. And, if your memory served you correctly, you had some sweeping to do in the back corner.

For about two hours, you fell back into your normal workday routine, completely forgetting about the events of the previous night or the fact that Keishin was napping in the back. That was, until you saw the delivery truck pull up in front of the store and remembered you had been given the task of waking the sleeping man.

Heading into the back, you moved slowly and quietly even though it didn’t matter if you woke Keishin since that was what you were supposed to do anyway.

“Keishin,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. “The delivery truck is here.”

Of course, he didn’t even budge at that. Nervously, you stepped closer to the couch, unable to ignore the fact that Keishin looked completely different when he was asleep. The usual frown or cocky grin he sported was nowhere to be seen and he didn’t seem as intimidating when his eyes were closed and his breathing was so slow and rhythmic.

“Keishin.” You reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder like he had done to you earlier and shook him slightly. Still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you were unsure what to try next aside from shouting right in his face. If only he had warned you he was a heavy sleeper.

Deciding to try one last thing before you resorting to screeching, you leaned closer to his ear, planted your hand on his chest—a brief memory of how you had touched him last night flashing in your mind—and shook him once more while you spoke. “Keishin, the delivery truck is here,” you said, not whispering but also not being too loud.

Thankfully, the mixture of shaking him and speaking directly into his ear seemed to finally do the trick and his eyes shot open. Immediately, you jumped back, not wanting him to be weirded out by how close you were to him.

Eyes travelling up to meet yours, Keishin yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Truck’s here?” he clarified.

“Yeah, it just arrived,” you told him, waiting for him to get up. “You should have told me you were a heavy sleeper. I was about to scream or pour water over you or something.”

Keishin cringed at the thought of that. “Well, thank goodness you didn’t. Next time, just pinch my nose or tickle me or something . . . anything but water.”

“Next time?” you asked. “You plan on taking naps on the couch often?”

“It’s my favourite place to nap. You should try it sometime,” he said before heading for the door. “Come on, let’s get this delivery over with. Try to learn fast so I don’t have to teach you again.”

“I’ll try my best.”

As you had pretty much expected, the delivery had been pretty straight forward. After helping the delivery man unload all of the boxes into the storage room and signing off on the delivery, the most time-consuming and complex part of the process was taking an inventory of the new supplies, which you picked up on pretty quickly.

Keishin showed you how to mark down the new delivery on the clipboard kept in the storage room and where to input the total count for each item. From there, all you had to do was make sure you had received everything and had the correct number ordered.

“Pretty easy, right?” He glanced at you out the corner of his eye as the two of you worked together at counting the inventory, keeping an ear open for customers in the process.

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem hard. Just time consuming,” you agreed.

“Exactly. We usually get a big delivery like this about once a month, then smaller deliveries throughout the week for more perishable items, as you already know.”

You nodded, quickly becoming lost in the repetitive task of counting and writing down the amount on the clipboard. Weirdly enough, you found that you didn’t actually hate taking inventory; the simple task was actually kind of calming and passed the time effortlessly.

“50,” you muttered under your breath, jotting down the number in the correct box right after you finished counting. When you turned back to start on the next box, you caught Keishin looking in your direction. “What?” You furrowed your brows at him. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“You,” he responded, quickly elaborating when you shot him a confused look. “Well, more specifically, why you took this job.”

You shrugged as you continued working. “I already told you. I need the money.”

“Right, so you can move out on your own. But why?”

Your hands stopped grabbing items and your mind stopped counting, making you lose track. “Because I’ve been waiting for as long as I can remember to live my own life and now that I have the opportunity, I’m not going to pass it up.”

“But wouldn’t you much rather be going to school? Surely you don’t want to work in a place like this for the rest of your life.”

You sighed heavily. “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“I’m just curious,” Keishin said. “I want to understand you better.”

“I don’t think you could truly understand unless you experienced the childhood that I did.”

Stopping his work as well, Keishin leaned against the shelf and crossed his arms over his chest. “Try me.”

Rolling your eyes, you accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to give up. “First thing’s first, I’m not saying my childhood was tragic or anything. My parents didn’t beat me. They fed me and clothed me and everything a parent should.” You started, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “I was just never allowed to live my own life or make my own decisions. I ate what my parents wanted me to eat, I wore what they wanted me to wear. I took the classes they wanted me to, I was friends with who they thought would make a good friend. They went overboard on trying to get me to do what they thought was best for me. I was never old enough or mature enough to know what I really wanted. I lived in a controlling dictatorship.”

“What about soccer?” Keishin asked, proving that he had actually remembered the conversation the two of you had had on your first day at the store. “You told me you used to play.”

You smiled fondly at the thought of your high school soccer team. “That was the only thing I ever got to pick for myself . . . and it took months of convincing, and in the end, I was only allowed to continue because I was good at it. The fact that I genuinely enjoyed it never came into account for my parents.” Your smiled faded slightly. “Sometimes they even managed to drain the fun from that as well, but I refused to let them ruin it for me because it was the only thing I had that was mine.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Every day . . . but this is more important right now.”

Keishin was silent for a few moments while he processed everything you had said. “Sounds like everything needed to have a purpose.”

“Pretty much. If something had no chance of providing success in the future, it was a waste of time.”

“So the plan is to work so you can afford your own place, then go to school next year? How are you going to afford school?”

“Well, if I had followed my parents plan for me and started working toward a law degree, they would have paid for it. But since I’ve decided to do my own thing now, I’m just lucky they haven’t kicked me out of the house yet . . . so I guess I’ll have to get a scholarship or apply for student loans. I’ll basically be scraping by, so I’ve applied for a bunch of community colleges and I’ll go from there I guess.”

Fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, Keishin lit one before sticking it between his lips. “What do you want to do?”

You laughed slightly at that. “I have no idea. I was never allowed to have hobbies or interests, so I don’t even know what I like. I just know what I don’t like. If I could do anything though, I’d apply for the University of Tokyo. They have a great soccer program. I just want to play soccer again.”

Keishin smiled. “Just soccer?”

“For now, yeah. I’ve learned that I’ll have to take life step by step, so that’s the first major goal. I’ll probably take some first year classes and see what I like and go from there. I think it’s okay to not have a set-in-stone plan sometimes . . . after all, this is the first time in my life I’ve never had my future planned out for me. It’s kind of exciting . . . scary, too, but exciting.”

Keishin sighed contently as he watched your eyes light up when you talked about the things you wanted to do in the future. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“So what was the point of what happened last night?” he inquired. “And, while we’re at it, the past few weeks as well. How do I fit into this grand plan of yours?”

You felt your heart pound against your chest. “I thought we were forgetting about last night?”

“We are,” he assured you. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just curious, is all.”

You thought for a moment, unsure how to phrase exactly how you were feeling. At first, you were inclined to take him up on his offer to not answer, but after how nice he had been to you today, you felt you owed him at least that.

“Originally, I was in a pretty messed-up head space and I wanted to use you to get back at my parents,” you told him truthfully, “. . . but after last night, I did some serious thinking and realized that wasn’t the case. What I really want is to prove to my parents that not everything that is different or ‘not according to plan’ is bad. You have an . . . alternative look about you,” you tried to phrase that as respectfully as possible, causing Keishin to chuckle, “but you’re not a bad person or, despite my harsh words last night, a burnout. You coach volleyball for high school kids and you help out at your family’s store and even though I’ve been pretty horrible to you, you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

You paused, unsure if you should say the last part or not. “I don’t know, I just think that maybe if they met you, they might realize that I’m capable of making good choices for myself even if it doesn’t fit their predetermined mold of my life.”

“You think I’m a good choice?” he asked, taken aback by your honesty.

“Yeah.” You eyed him while he took a drag from his cigarette and let the smoke spill from his lips. “Maybe not the nicotine addiction part, but hey, no one’s perfect.”

Keishin chuckled before putting his smoke out. “Okay, I’ve got a deal for you.”

You cocked a brow at him. “What?”

“If I pretend to be your boyfriend and help you fix things with your parents, you have to apply to the University of Tokyo and follow your dream of playing soccer.”

You were thoroughly perplexed. “Both conditions of that deal only really benefit me. What do you get out of it?”

He just shrugged. “Nothing.”

You scoffed. “Well, as generous and sketchy as that sounds, there is no way I would be able to afford the University of Tokyo on my own and I don’t think any amount of ass-kissing could make my parents agree to pay for me to go there to play soccer and figure life out.”

“Hey, one step at a time, right?” He used your own words against you.

You contemplated his offer for a moment. “You’re really okay with that? Even though you get nothing but more work out of it?”

“I suggested it, didn’t I?”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “You’d really pretend to be my boyfriend? Even though I’m just some rebellious kid?”

“Your opinion of me changed,” he pointed out. “Why can’t my opinion of you change too?”

“Fair enough,” you conceded. “Well, if you’re absolutely positive you won’t regret it when you wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll happily accept your deal. Thank you.”

Keishin turned back to the stack of boxes and promptly returned to the task at hand. “You’re welcome.”

You watched him work and quietly hum to himself while he did so. This time, it was his turn to catch you staring. “What?” he looked over at you.

“I just didn’t peg you for such a softy is all,” you joked.

“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffed at you. “Just don’t fall in love with me or anything, kid.”

You smirked. “Whatever you say, old man.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#ukai keishin #ukai keishin x reader #ukai #lostinthewiind #piss off your parents #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #song fic #part 3 #haikyuu smut #series

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sergeantsporks · 3 years ago

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Another Shot at Life

Rating: General Audiences, Gen

TW: Child abuse, emotional manipulation

Ao3

Hunter accidentally makes his way into the human realm and can't get back home. But he's discovering that might not be such a bad thing.

Ch 7/7: Home

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6

Vee trudged up towards the old abandoned house. She’d started checking it every single day since Hunter had been taken, hoping he’d be there.

He never was.

She pushed open the door, and stopped, dead in her tracks. “L-Luz? Red?!”

Red was shrieking like its little heart was being torn in two, fluttering around where the portal had always appeared.

Vee rushed forward, panic building in her chest. “Hey—are you okay?!”

Luz was turning a key over and over in her hands, poking at it. “I need to go back,” she said dazedly, “I need to rescue him.”

“How long have you been here?!”

“I—I don’t know. A couple of hours? I can’t… get the key to work. But I have to go back, I left Hunter behind, and Belos has him, and—” She struggled to her feet, then immediately fell.

Vee caught her, slinging one of her arms over her shoulder. “You need to go back home. You look awful.”

“But Hunter—”

Vee took the key from her. “I’ll go back for him,” she promised, and a sort of steely calm settled over her. Yes. She would figure this out, she would rescue Hunter.

“Mom will never let you—”

Vee bit her lip. Of all the things to take a leaf out of Hunter’s book for. “We won’t tell her.” She tucked the key into her hoodie pocket, half-carrying, half-dragging Luz back home. “Camila!” she called, “Come quick!”

Camila poked her head out of the kitchen, then shrieked, rushing forward and taking Luz from Vee. “Mi carina! Luz, baby, what happened?!”

“Mama,” Luz half-sobbed, “Mama, I left Hunter—he helped me get away from Belos, he—”

Vee slipped out, wandering back to the old house. Red was sitting on the floor, staring at the spot where the portal had been. Vee gently scooped up the bird. “We’ll get him back. I promise.”

Red chirped sadly, hopping back down out of her hands to sit on the ground again.

Vee tugged the training wand Hunter had given her out of her pocket. It glowed blue, and she sucked the magic out of it. She hadn’t needed it to hide from Belos. But she could use it to save Hunter.

Now there was just one more person she needed.

Xxx

Vee strode into the museum. “Hey!”

Jacob jumped. “What are you doing here?” He glanced behind her. “Your—your friend isn’t here, is he?”

Vee felt tears prick at her eyes, but she blinked them back. “He’s… not here right now. I need your help.”

“My help? Why would you need my help?”

Because you’re stupid, and loud, and prideful and the perfect distraction.

“Because you’re right. Because witches are planning an invasion of your world, and I’m a rebel against them, but I need someone to help me take down their leader, and you’re perfect.”

Jacob stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly open. “You’re… you’re a rebel?”

“Yes. Against the beings that want to conquer your planet.” Vee swung the key back and forth on its string. “I can get you inside the witch emperor’s castle. All you have to do is kill him. Protect your planet.”

Jacob made a grab for the key, and she swung it up, catching it and holding it tightly. “Uh-uh. I control the portal.”

“Why?”

“Because you need someone on this side to keep it open,” Vee lied, “Now, are you going to be a hero and defend your home, or do I have to find someone else?”

Jacob shook his head. “I’m coming! I’m coming.”

“Good. Meet me at the abandoned house you were watching, and I’ll open the portal. The fate of your world rests on your shoulders, Jacob.”

Vee strode purposefully out of the museum, making sure she was out of Jacob’s range of hearing before sighing. “Now I just have to figure out how to open the portal.”

She jogged back to the old house, where Red was still waiting, and held up the key. “Hey. Any chance you know how to use this?”

Red fluttered up and pecked at the eye.

“Hey! Don’t break it!” Vee examined the key. “Now how do I…” she pressed gently on the eye of the key, but nothing happened.

Vee stepped to the place where the door had been.

And was met with resistance.

“Huh?”

Vee clicked the key, and the resistance disappeared. She clicked it again. There was that strange wall again.

Or maybe not a wall. Maybe a door.

Vee put her hands on the solid area, feeling for a knob. “Come on,” she muttered, “You have to be around here somewhere!”

Red fluttered up onto her shoulder, chirping. Its eyes glowed, and suddenly, there it was.

The door.

It looked like the sketches Hunter had left behind, but instead of huge eye on the top, there was a keyhole.

Vee gasped. “Oh! You need a palisman to get in! So no one but a witch could get in from this side! That’s clever!”

She heard clanking, and turned around to see Jacob, in all of his armor. Wow, he really looked ridiculous.

“Where’s the portal?” he demanded.

Vee reached up and inserted the key into the lock, twisting it with a quiet click. A doorframe filled with a golden curtain of light appeared, the key at the top of the doorframe. She gestured to it. “The emperor wears a golden mask with deer horns. You’ll know him when you see him.”

Jacob gulped, then plunged through. Vee briefly considered that she should feel guilty about sending him in to face Belos with absolutely no idea what he was up against.

Eh.

Red tried to dive into the portal after Jacob, but Vee held a hand up, blocking the bird. “I know you want to see Hunter, but I need you to stay here and watch the portal, okay? Make sure no one comes for the key. I’ll bring him back. I promise.”

Red ruffled its feathers unhappily, but perched atop the doorframe.

Vee pulled on the magic she’d absorbed from the wand, shifting to match the look of a coven guard. Then she crept through. She could hear Jacob yelling and clanging his way down the hallway, and the sounds of other coven guards chasing after. Perfect.

Vee slipped unnoticed through the hallways, her nerves spiking. Everything about this place was just one bad memory after another. She spotted a singular guard outside of a door, and sidled up to him.

“Um—” she squeaked, “hello? I, uh. I’m a bit lost, I just transferred here. I’m… I’m supposed to go on guard duty for… the golden guard?”

The guard heaved a sigh. “Finally. I thought I would never go off-duty. It’s just so boring, you know? It’s not like he can escape.”

“Oh. Yes. T-totally.”

“Right. See ya, new guy!”

The guard waved and strode off. Vee shuddered. He seemed so… normal. Like his job wasn’t locking up and hurting innocent teens.

She waited for him to disappear down the hallway, then turned the knob of the door, pushing it open. The room was well lit, surprisingly.

Vee almost wished it weren’t.

Hunter was buried all the way up to the nose in a mountain of some kind of… slime that shifted and moved. His eyes were blank—no pupils, no irises, just eerily glowing white.

“Hunter?” she whispered.

He didn’t respond.

Vee crept forward, poking the slime with one finger.

It glowed blue, and Vee gasped. The whole thing was magic. “Hang on, Hunter, I’ll get you out of here.”

Vee wrinkled her nose and put her hands on the slime. It glowed, and she inhaled, sucking up the magic. She almost immediately gagged. There was something wrong with this magic. It tasted rotten.

But the mountain had gotten just a little bit smaller, so she braced herself, and started eating the magic again, suppressing her gag reflex.

The mountain shrank smaller and smaller, and the slime receded from Hunter’s face. He fell forward, and Vee lunged to catch him, her stomach writhing like she’d just eaten live snakes. “Hunter?”

The eerie glow faded from his eyes, replaced with his usual magenta eyes.

“Hunter!”

He just stared blankly up at her, shivering violently. Vee hefted him in her arms, glancing both ways out into the hallway before starting down the hallway. Maybe it was the huge size of the coven guard she’d shifted into, but he seemed smaller than he ever had back home.

And then there were his eyes. They were so… bleak. Hopeless. It was like he couldn’t even see her.

Vee made her way back to the room with the door, occasionally ducking into other rooms or behind statues to hide Hunter.

She heard a clank, clank, clank behind her, and Jacob came tearing back, screaming. Wow, he could run fast, even in all of that armor.

The meaning of why he would be running like that hit her, and she sprinted after him, bolting through the doors to the room.

Only for several guards to be standing in front of her way out. Jacob was nowhere in sight—they must have let him through the portal. Vee skidded to a stop. “Oh. Hey. Uhhhhhhhh…”

“We have a traitor!”

“That’s no traitor,” Belos’ voice hissed behind her, “That’s a dangerous creature, masquerading as one of our own.”

Vee’s veins turned to ice, and every bad memory from her time locked in the dungeon flashed through her mind at lightning speed.

She didn’t see him move, but suddenly Belos was right in her face. “I’ll be taking Hunter back, now. You don’t know what he needs.”

Xxx

“Mom—I’m okay. Really. It was just a fall off of a wall, and a little bit of light torture, and a blow to the head, and a fall from the sky—I’m fine, really.”

Camila finished applying band-aids to all of Luz’s scratches, her chest tight. “A blow to the head? I’m going to call a doctor.”

“I’m okay, Mom! Really! Hunter gave me these painkiller things, and they really worked, but I think they’ve worn off now, and I know I promised I’d stay here, I know, but we have to go back for him!”

Camila sat down next to her daughter. “Okay.”

Luz stopped, mid-rant. “Wh-what?”

“Okay. I’m going to get Hunter. You stay here and rest. How do I get there?”

“I…” Luz’s eyes teared up. “I don’t know! I couldn’t get the portal open from this side, and Mom, it would be too dangerous for you to go!”

“If it’s too dangerous for me, do you think I’d send my little girl in? I failed Hunter—I let Belos take him. So I’m going to get him back.” If we can get the portal working, if he’s even still alive. Camila shook her head, trying to chase away the niggling doubts in her head. No. She was going to rescue Hunter. No matter how far she had to go.

“He was so miserable, Mom,” Luz whispered, “But he’d just… given up.”

Camila’s heart seemed to tear itself in two. He’d gone back to protect them—and had given up on seeing them again. Camila glanced around the room. “Where’d Vee go?”

Luz clammed up.

“Luz? Do you know where she went?”

“I’m… not supposed to tell you?”

A bolt of panic shot through Camila, and she jumped to her feet. “She opened the portal, didn’t she?!”

“I don’t know—I know she was going to try.”

Camila raced for her purse, throwing a few things in. “I’m going to find her, and maybe Hunter if she’s managed to open the portal. Luz, you stay here. You’re not in any state for a rescue mission, kay? Just trust me to bring him back.”

Luz nodded. “I trust you.”

Camila ran out the door, racing up the path towards the old house.

Please be okay.

Xxx

Vee clutched Hunter tightly, his body quivering so hard she thought she might drop him. A surge of anger rushed through her. “What he needs?! He doesn’t need this!”

Belos shrugged. “He got to be too much of a hassle to keep awake. It was simpler for everyone if he just went to sleep until I needed him. Less painful for him as well—but apparently, you just want him to suffer needlessly. Now, little basilisk, give him to me and I might consider letting you go.”

Vee backed up. “No!”

“HEY!”

Vee jumped as she heard Camila’s voice. She whirled around to see her adoptive mother standing over two unconscious coven guards, holding Luz’s baseball bat. “Camila!”

Camila glared at Belos. “Get. Away. From my. Kids.”

Belos disappeared, reappearing next to Camila and plucking the baseball bat out of her hands. “Oh? How interesting. Are you going to make good on that threat to end me, little human?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Camila whipped out a can of hairspray and a lighter. “Adios, Belos.” She held the lighter up to the hairspray, and clicked them at the same time. A jet of flame shot out, lighting Belos’ robes on fire. The emperor stumbled back with a shriek, and Camila pushed past him, grabbing Vee’s arm. “Let’s go!”

Vee shot through the portal, Camila not far behind. Vee reached up and twisted the key back out of the portal. The curtain of light closed on Belos’ howl of rage.

Camila whistled. “I cannot believe I just did that!”

“That was—it was scary, but it was amazing, and…” Vee glanced down at Hunter, and the euphoria died away. He was still shaking, still blank-eyed. Red fluttered down to his shoulder, nudging his face and warbling softly. Hunter didn’t respond.

Camila put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get him home,” she said softly.

Vee trudged back up the path to her own home, struggling to squeeze through the door. She gently sat Hunter on the couch, shifting back to her usual form. Eating that cursed prison might have been disgusting, but it had given her a huge backup magic reserve—she’d be good on magic for a while yet.

“You’re back!” Luz limped down the stairs, freezing when she saw Hunter. “Oh—oh, no. Hunter?”

He didn’t respond, just kept staring ahead with those dull eyes. Camila wrapped a blanket around his shivering shoulders, taking his hand in hers and giving it a squeeze. “Oh, Hunter. What happened to you?”

“He—he looks kind of like Matholomew did when he got out of detention,” Luz said softly, “Vee, what—”

Vee twisted her hands. “I—there was this cursed mud, and it made his eyes go all creepy—maybe I shouldn’t have taken him out? Maybe it was supposed to run its course and I made it worse by taking him out early?”

Camila squeezed her shoulder. “You did what you thought was best,” she said softly, “We have him back, and that’s—that’s what matters. We can fix this. He’ll wake up.”

Vee blinked back tears. “But—what if he doesn’t?”

What if I was too late?

Xxx

“H-hey, I’m gonna… gonna put on some Stephen Universe? Hunter? Remember, you liked that?” Vee rubbed her arms. Rain had been gently pattering on the windowpane, but it was starting to pick up. “You did. We watched it together, and I liked Amethyst, and you couldn’t pick your favorite character, remember?”

Hunter still just stared forward, wrapped up in his blanket like a burrito, and Vee sat next to him with a sigh. Red hadn’t moved from his shoulder since they’d gotten him back two days ago—and Hunter himself hadn’t budged, either—he didn’t eat anything, he didn’t sleep, as far as Vee could tell, he just sat there, staring into space. Red chirped softly, nuzzling Hunter’s face, and then hopped over to Vee, giving her big, worried eyes.

Vee cupped the palisman in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “I don’t know how to get him back. I don’t know if he’s just in shock, or if this is something that the curse does, or…”

The rain was picking up, wind howling against the window. Vee slid off the couch, setting Red on the floor and digging out birdseed for the palisman. She sat back down on the floor next to the cardinal. “You’ve got to eat something, right?”

Red warbled sadly, and fluttered back up to Hunter.

“I know. I miss him, too.”

Lightning flashed, followed by a crack of thunder, and Vee yelped, putting her hands over her ears.

She heard a rustle and a little whump, and then something warm settled over her. Hunter’s chin rested on her head, his arms flopped over her shoulders so that they were sharing the blanket. Red chirped happily, and Vee froze, her heart thumping hopefully in her chest.

“Hunter? Camila! Camila, Luz, I think he’s waking up!”

Another peal of thunder crashed, and Hunter hugged her just a little tighter. Camila came thumping down, Luz not far behind. Vee didn’t move, holding her breath, worried that if she moved and disturbed him, he’d go back to the way he’d been, barely daring to hope...

xxx

Camila rushed into the living room, where Hunter was flopped over Vee, wrapping her in his blanket. He was still blank-eyed, but his brow was furrowed, like he was trying to remember something. Camila gently cupped his face in her hands.

“Hunter?” She asked softly, “Mijo?”

He blinked, hard, like he’d just woken up. “C-Camila?” His eyes filled with tears, and he fell back, letting go of Vee. The basilisk tackled him in a hug.

“Hunter!”

Camila wrapped her arms around both of them, squeezing them both tight. “Oh!”

His shoulders started to shake. “It was s-so dark,” he whispered.

Camila squeezed just a little harder. “I’ve got you,” she promised. She let the two of them go, and Vee wriggled under the blanket, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him as the thunder cracked. Luz sat down next to Camila.

“Hey,” she said softly to Hunter, “Thanks.”

He sat bolt upright, making Vee yelp. “The key! Belos!”

Vee held up the portal key. “Oh, you mean this? Don’t worry, Belos can’t get to us.”

“Vee managed to open the portal,” Luz supplied, “She went in after you!”

“And then Camila came for both of us,” Vee finished, “She lit Belos on fire, it was awesome!”

Hunter looked up at Camila, his lip quivering. “You… you fought for me?”

“Of course I did. I said I would, didn’t I?”

Tears rolled down his face, and Camila wrapped him up in a hug. “Hey. Heeey. You’re okay now.”

“I kept—I kept making him mad—and it—and I—”

Camila rocked him back and forth. “Okay. Ooookay. I’ve got you.”

“I couldn’t get out—it was all dark, and blank, and I just kept sinking, and I couldn’t do anything, and I was drowning, and—” Hunter buried his face in her shoulder.

Camila cradled his head in her hand. She could feel a lump on the back of his head, like he’d hit it, and she hadn’t failed to notice the bruises that hadn’t been there when he’d left. A tide of anger swept over her, and she started regretting leaving the Boiling Isles quite so soon. “You’re safe now, Hunter. I promise. Belos can’t hurt you anymore. And if he even thinks about it… well, I have no qualms lighting him on fire again.”

Hunter slumped against her, and she scooped him up, Red fluttering around the two of them. “Okay. You need some sleep.”

“He can take my bed,” Vee offered, “I’m too wired to go to sleep, anyway.”

Camila gave her a grateful nod and carried Hunter up the stairs. He was already asleep by the time they got to Luz’s room, his breath coming in soft little puffs. She nestled him in the bed, pulling the covers over him.

“Good night, Hunter.”

Xxx

Hunter was woken up by the sun.

The sun.

How had he slept this long?!

He bolted upright, nearly scraping his head on the ceiling. Wait. What?

Everything that had happened, came back to him in a rush, and he flopped backwards, running his hands through his hair. “Oh.”

Lying here, in the Noceda house, he could almost imagine that going back to Belos had been nothing but a bad dream.

But it hadn’t been. He had some very real bruises to prove it.

He shuddered, remembering the cold, acidic feel of Belos’ curse.

But then Red soared right into him, singing brightly, and he could almost forget it had ever happened.

Almost.

Hunter’s hand closed around the pin on his cloak. He ripped it off, tossing the cape to the floor, followed by his armor. He didn’t have to wear it anymore. Ever. Belos had no way to get back to him.

Belos had no way to get back to him.

The enormity of the statement caught up to him, and he ran his hand through his hair again. “He can’t come back for me,” he whispered, “I—I don’t ever have to see him again!”

Red chirped in agreement, and a bewildered laugh escaped Hunter’s mouth.

No more running errands for Belos.

No more worrying about what would happen to Red.

No more fear that an attack would hit, and he’d get hurt.

Just Camila and Vee and Luz.

Hunter shuffled down the stairs into the kitchen. “Good morning!”

“You’re cheerful.” Vee grinned. “Afternoon, actually.”

“Really?”

Luz nodded. “Mom said we should let you sleep. Speaking of my mom, she said something about how she shouldn’t have forced me to promise not to go back to the Isles—she doesn’t want me to keep trying to use that key, because it’s too dangerous to get into the keep, but she hasn’t outright said I can’t go back if I can find another way.” Luz glanced around. “I miiiiight ask to borrow Red at some point. If that’s okay with the two of you. I need to let Eda know I’m okay.”

“Luz, are you plotting something behind my back?” Camila came bumping down the stairs, holding a brightly wrapped parcel. “Oh, hey! You’re up!” She thrust the parcel at him. “That’s for you! I actually got it before… but that doesn’t matter, you’re here, I have it, everything’s great.”

Hunter gingerly took the package. “What… is it?”

“It’s a present,” Vee explained wisely, “It’s a surprise. You open it up.”

“Did it… come like this?”

“Nope, Camila wrapped it.”

Hunter squinted at the package. “But… now I’m just supposed to open it?”

Vee nodded. “Yep.”

“Then what was the point of wrapping it up?”

Luz nudged his shoulder. “It’s fun!” Her face dropped. “Oh my gosh, you’ve never gotten a present before, this is so sad. Okay. Just trust us, it’s fun.”

Hunter stuck his tongue out at her, and pulled gently at the paper, trying to unstick the tape.

“Rip it!” Luz demanded, “Tear it open!”

Hunter glanced back at Camila. “But you worked so hard to—”

She laughed. “You’re supposed to rip it, mijo. Go ahead.”

Hunter tore at the paper. It was… oddly exciting.

The wrapping had contained a set of clothing, jeans that actually looked his size, a t-shirt, and a hoodie that looked just a little too big—therefore, exactly the right size.

Hunter turned the fabric over in his hands, tears bubbling to his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Vee pushed him towards the stairs. “Go see if it fits!”

Hunter scooted up the stairs, closing the door behind him and switching clothes. The rest of his uniform joined the armor and cloak in a pile, and he tugged the hood of his new sweater up, retracting his hands into the sleeves. It was soft, and comfy, and he felt like he could just melt into a puddle right here.

He shuffled back downstairs, and Camila clapped her hands. “Ooo, good, it fits! Look at you!” She grabbed her keys. “Okay, Hunter, Luz, in the car, both of you are coming with me to the doctor’s office, I want both of you checked out for concussions.”

“Mooooooom,” Luz groaned, “I’m fiiiiiiine!”

Hunter let Camila shoo him into the car, stepping out into the bright sunlight (hadn’t it been raining last night?). Warmth spread all through him, banishing the last of the lingering coldness Belos had left behind.

Camila looked back at him as she turned the car on. “Everything good?”

Hunter took in a deep breath, burying his face in his new hoodie. He was back home—this time to stay. “Everything is perfect.”

#whoof almost didn't update today #anyway one happy ending as promised #now back to our previously scheduled angst #toh #the owl house #toh fanfiction #toh hunter #camila noceda #vee noceda #luz noceda #my writing

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years ago

Text

Monday 22 July 1839

10 50/..

well see to write – then slept afterwards till near 6 – same sort of round gneiss hill moory warty country as since 8 last night – between Qvibille [Kvibille] and Slöinge – change horses [Wäro] at 6 ½ am – A- and I had alighted for a few minutes at 5 55/.. at a neat farmhouse where we had stopt on some account or other – we were 6 Swedish miles from Gotheborg [Gothenburg] out of the total 22 ½ at 6 a.m How slowly we get on – about 8am close upon a board shallow fjord – the water and wide expanse of rocky moor finely dreary – not a house or hut to be seen now at 8 1/4 nor for this hour past – all the soil since Helsinborg [Helsingborg] sandy and peaty as in Zealand – everywhere granite cobble fence walls – at 9 3/4 breakfast as we slowly drive along – an inch square each of our Jaca chocolate and Munthes’ cheese and water – Excellent breakfast – pencil over my accounts – good job done – at 10 50/.. raining hard and stop at Socken – apparently goodish little town, and better corn immediately around here than we have seen in general – the low hoary [?] mountains here remind me a little of Lourdes in the Pyrenees but on a humble scale – Munthe said we should reach Gotheborg [Gothenburg] by 8 am – we seem to wind our way along one and the same long narrowish at times vale ever since 6am rain for an hour or 2 from Socken – at last at 2 ¼ Karra [Kärradal] ¾ Swedish mile from Gotheborg [Gothenburg] and here the vale seems not more than ½ mile wide – about 3pm we were evidently approaching Gotheborg [Gothenburg] – at 3 ¼ neat farms or better houses begin to almost line the road – at 3 ½ we stopt at the door of the Inn to which Munthe recommended us – the Gotha Kallare – looked full and bustling – the master not at home – only one room vacant – at Mrs. Todds’ hotel at 4 – full – I said she must do something for us – at last said there 2 rooms if they would do for us in a private house near – saw them – yes! all settled – and washed and dressed and at dinner at Mrs. Todds’ at 5 1/2 – to 6 1/2 – then sauntered out for ½ hour then had her son till the garçon Anderson came to us at the top of the Dona church (Swedish church) cathedral – service

SH:7/ML/E/23/0089

every evening at 7 – good broad stone steps (newel staircase) about ½ the height? then a series of wooden ladders from one hot wooden chamber to another till my head lifted up the trap door at the top – very fine view, - over town and fjord – good, regular-streeted town, and long suburb of Klippen on the water – large village on the hill towards the sea and one large old tower on the top of that hill (one of the old town wall towers) now a powder magasine [magazine] and another much smaller that we must have passed at no great distance on our right as we came in this morning – beautiful evening – we then went to the bookseller Geerup for map of Sweden – nice civil man – recommended a payable gentleman interpreter and guide for our journey into Norway – on explanation, it seemed that the man might suit us – to be sent to – in returning Anderson took us to see the 2 Stockholm Gotha Canal steamers lying close to the pier off the Baths – went on board – very nice vessel – very comfortable cabins for 2 persons at 40 D. Banco and if we took Grotza in she would be 5DB. more and might still be on deck or sleep in the carriage – Gross’s place (2nd) would be 10DB. and the carriage 30DB. – enough to change our mind and make us go from here to Stockholm by steam – just returning home when such a heavy thunder shower came on, we returned to the steamer for shelter till it was fair – home at 9 ½ - glad to get to bed – fine day, except the rain at 10 50 am for a hour or 2, and the heavy shower about 9 this evening

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aal-archaeology · 4 years ago

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Summary of my first term of my Ph.D. at Stanford during a global pandemic and an extremely controversial election year (Anthropology, yr. 1, she/they, 25y/o) with some toggl data analysis

Well this year was a doozy if I don’t say so myself. But we survived it, and its okay if that’s all you were able to do this year because that’s enough. As an offical 18th grader, I feel like I can speak pretty well to the toxicity of the academic environment. There is always a pressure to be working all of the time, people compete with each other with how few hours of sleep they got, every conversation with fellow students is just listing off all of the different assignemnts you have to do by the end of the week. On top of all of this, this is 2020. So, I decided that this year I’m going to give myself some mental slack.

I decided that this is the year that I’m not going to try to impress anyone. I’m just going to survive and do what I have to do to move onto the next term. I think I did a pretty good job at that for the first term, so I’ll share a bit about what I observed in myself and those in my cohort. Coming into term one having to choose classes, many of my peers were packing their schedules full of 5 Unit seminars. For those who don’t know, theoretically, a 5 Unit course is supposed to take about 5-6 hours of work outside of class hours. For Stanford Anthropology, most PhD students take as close as they can to 18 credits, and anything over that you have to pay extra for the courses. Taking more courses doesn’t really put you any further ahead in terms of completing your degree, and you’re expected to complete about 45 Units each year for the first two years of the program.

I decided to take 2 seminars (typical), a language course, and a couple filler credits that we are given the option to use if we need 1-3 units to hit 18 total. I, fortunately, tracked every hour spent outside of the classroom working on each course using toggl (i highly reccomend):

In a typical week, I spent about 5-6 hours/week outside of class on my Anthro seminars, and about 6-7 hours on Japanese. Japanese was a “for-fun” class so I would usually study more of that when I didn’t feel like reading dense archaeological theory.

Toggl was a really cool way to see where I was spending too much, or not enough, time on my classwork. If it was taking me more than 1.5 hours to get through a single article, I knew I was probably spending too much time on it and should move on to the next thing. My goal for the term was to stay true to the 5 Unit idea of 5-6 hours, and not over-work myself.

Toggl was also useful in tracking my mental health throughout the term, as it is very obvious to see when I just was not physically capable of ingesting 400 pages of reading. For example, election week:

Election week was really hard for me, and everyone else in the world honestly. I had various family things I was dealing with, typical existential dread, plus it was week 8-ish of the term when everything was already on fire in terms of workload. For one of my seminars (purple), we had to read a book for the following week which I was able to do the sundar after election day. However, for the days leading up to and surrounding the 4th, the only thing I could mentally handle was mindless Japanese vocab studying. One of my seminars really sufferend this week, and I straight up just didnt show up to the smaller Anth 310G class because I had only read the title of the pdf. Fortunately, I emailed my professor of my Theory class and was like “yo dude I cannot” and he replied that he understood and wouldnt call on me during that day of class.

I didn’t do a whole lot of journalling at all this term, but for this week I just wrote “pain” on most days and then YAY BIDEN at the end of it.

Weekly Schedule

Above is what a typical week looked like, some were a lot lot lot more dense, others not so much, but this was pretty average. Not all things on the calendar are work related, some are extra lectures from visiting professors that sounded interesting, or “Free Boba & Snacks Pick Up” put on by my residence. Monday, Wednesday, and Sunday were my big work days last term, where I didn’t have a whole lot of classes so I would do most of my reading then. On Tues and Thurs I had one 3-hour seminar, and M-F I had a 50 min Japanese class.

I woke up every day around 7am-ish, made a green tea, and sat at the computer to work, filter through emails, etc. On particularily open days I would go grocery shopping, go for bike rides/walks around campus, go buy food/boba.

On class-heavy days, I wouldn’t leave my computer for 8-12 hours, which is extremely ridiculous but that’s the new norm in school in 2020. This kind of stunk because all of the socializing was also on the computer, so even if I wasn’t working I was doing screen related things.

EVERY day I stopped working at 6pm. Rarely did I do readings past 6pm unless I was really slacking somewhere. From 6pm onwards I would do things like play Among Us or League of Legends with my discord friends, eat, watch movies with my partner, etc. And then most nights I would try to be in bed by 12am at the latest.

Social Life

Despite the online nature of things this term, I was suprisingly able to meet a lot of great people on campus. We were all being tested at least once a week, which made in person gatherings with 1-4 people a little less scary, especially when half of the people lived together in one household.

In the first week of school, some of the grad programs put on a “speed friending” zoom event, where I was able to connect with two people really well. We ended up doing a “slow-friending” zoom event afterwards and then created a FB group chat and added all of the people we had met into it. The group ended up being about 15 people, and we would message the group for park hangouts, going to get food, or going on walks on campus. We also had a huge get together in a park for Mid-Autumn Festival, where we sat in a socially distanced circle, chatted, and ate mooncakes.

Most of my socializing came from my online friends, and amongus was a huge savior to my mental health this term wher emy group would play literally every night. I also made a really good friend off of Bumble BFF this term, who I’ve hung out with a good amount for plant shopping and board games.

I’m very fortunate to be in a situation where I can get tested for COVID on a days notice, and very grateful that I could use that to stay a little sane. My Biggest Accomplishment this term, was not school related. but instead I hit my 365 DAY STREAK on duolingo. This was celebrated with cake. This streak has lived through literal hell and for that I am very proud.

Overall reflection:

This term was super rough, there were a lot of days where I just napped through it and a lot of days where I couldn’t bring myself to do any work. However, I think the courseload that I took was very manageable and I’m going to continue to go light on myself in that regard.

I really liked the boundaries that I set for myself this term, not working after 6pm and making time to do some fun things in the midst of chaos. I never felt like I was too far behind on work, or that I wasn’t doing enough, because I had a literal reminder in front of me that I had already put x amount of hours into something with toggl.

Sometimes in class I would feel like I didn’t know how to productively contribute to conversation, but I think thats a skill that will get better over time and not being so great at it should especially be expected in the first term of a program.

Socially I met a lot of wonderful people who also made me feel more comfortable will myself. I started using She/They pronouns which feel really comforting to me. I made a lot of little origami cranes every time I was feeling sad. I drank a lot of boba. Watched a lot of She Ra. Played a lot of games. It all ended up being okay despite the weight of everything around me.

I’m proud of all of you for making it through this year, I know it was really difficult for a lot of people in more ways than it was for me, but we’re still here! Sometimes all you can do it make it to the next day and thats such a big accomplishment on its own. Please feel free to reach out with any questions about time-management, toggl, phd stuff in general, archaeology, etc! Always happy to help out. :’) Thanks for reading! Lyss

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tams-writeblr · 4 years ago

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Once I’m gone

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: major character death

Category: F/M (main couple), Multi (side characters)

Fandom: Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin

Relationship: Mikasa Ackermann / Eren Jaeger | various side couples

Characters: Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackermann, Armin Arlelt, Zeke Jaeger, Hange Zoe, Floch Forster, Ymir, Reiner Braun, Pieck Finger, Historia Reiss, several others will make a cameo

Additional Tags: Modern AU | established relationship | toxic behaviour | Eren suffers from Huntington’s disease and tries to settle his matters before he dies | suicial blockhead Eren | aged up characters (by ten years) | suicide tw | depression tw | mental diseases tw | deathly diseases tw | this is clearly not write what you know, but I’m giving my very best to representate the topics as good as I can | this all basically came to me as a fever dream | you remember Thirteen from House, M.D.? I still have a huge crush on her so this version of Eren is greatly inspired by her <3

Language: English (not native, I’m trying my best you guys)

Stats: ongoing - Chapter 1/15 - Part 2/4 - 1507 of 3652 words

Summary: Eren Jaeger knew for years that he inherited Huntington’s disease from his late mother. When he first notices symptoms on him, his long protected plan, to end his life before reaching the critical state of his illness, awakes. But there is still Mikasa, his girlfriend and the only person in the world he cares about more than about himself, and he can’t leave her alone and grieving. It’s time to find a substitute for when Eren is gone. With the help of a new friend Eren tries to scare away Mikasa while driving her into the arms of someone new.

__________________________________________________

Charlatans and Pills - Part 2/4

<<previous

“Hey Mama”, the small, dark haired boy said and pulled his hand towards the woman that sat sunk down on an uncomfortable looking chair.

She didn’t directly look at him, only giving his pulled out hand a small, arbitrary glance and looked up towards the man, standing behind Eren.

“But Carla, Dear”, Eren's father said with a cheerful tone. “Shake at least our Eren’s hand. Aren’t you happy that we are visiting you?”

A thin lipped smile crawled over Carla’s face and her light brown eyes finally found Eren’s glance. “Eren”, she sighed recognizing and rather than just taking his hand, she slipped down her chair and tightly hugged him.

Tighter than Eren would have liked it. He looked up to his father, seeking help, insecure how to behave. She still was his mother, the one that always loved him and guessed every wish from his eyes.

Eren had found out that she was sick, three years ago. Back then they also told him, he eventually would get the same sickness. She often dropped things and so she did on his eleventh birthday with a knife to cut his cake. It fell right on her foot and she had to go to the hospital. After this incident, she never returned to her old self. She behaved strangely ever so often, screaming at his dad for obviously no reason.

But the strangest was when Eren came home from school one day. His father was still at work, he had a small practice in the middle of town, and usually a delicious lunch was waiting for him when he returned home from school. But on this day nothing smelled nice through the house, on the contrary it stank horribly of burned food and everything was full with smoke. Eren found his mother in the upstairs bathroom, her hands were dripping with blood, he had found shards in the kitchen.

“What do you want?”, his mother screamed and held her blood stained hands in front of her face. “Get out! I have to hide from the smoke!”

Puzzled Eren neared his mother. “But Mama, you have to turn off the oven or else whatever's on there will burn even more. Did you cut yourself? Do you need a bandaid?”

“Get our!”, Carla yelled again. “Who the hell are you, how did you get into my house?”

Helpless tears wobbled out of big, green child’s eyes. “Mama”, he whined and ducked away under a roll of toilet paper his mother threw at him. Desperately the boy backed out of the bathroom and ran back to the kitchen where he pulled all knobs of the oven until the red control light went off, then he remembered what his father always had hammered inside his little head: to call him at work, when something was wrong with Mum.

“The number is pinned on the fridge”, he had told him again and again. “I’ll be with you within 15 minutes.” If not at this moment, when should he bother his father at work? Quickly the boy looked for the phone around the smoke filled house, luckily he found it in the living room and not like so often in his parents bedroom. He wouldn’t have dared to walk past the upper bathroom in which he still suspected his mother.

His father indeed arrived within minutes. He found Carla beneath the toilet, sunk down and asleep and immediately called an ambulance. “I’m so sorry”, he murmured again and again while pressing the sobbing and crying Eren against him. “You’ll never have to be alone with her again. Everything will be alright.”

His mother didn’t return home after this incident. His father explained to him that she would now live somewhere, where people could look after her more appropriately. There no knife would fall on her food ever again and she wouldn’t burn any more pans.

But Eren found the place where they brought her simply terrifying. There were only old people. Not old people like his father but really old, probably older than his grandparents. It always smelled strangely and scary sounds came from some chambers.

Eren curled out of his mother’s embrace and his father came to help him.

“There, there Carla, not so fiercely”, he laughed and directed her gently back towards her chair. Then he took place across from her and placed a hand on her knee. “Well my Dear, how are you feeling today?”

Carla looked at him for a long time with a stoic face. At that her left arm twitched permanently. It hit against her thigh and the seating of the chair.

Eren watched the movement hypnotized and flinched when his mother took a deep, loud breath.

“Grisha”, she said with unmistakable joy in her voice. her twitching arm raised and her hand landed accurately on her husband’s. A smile crept towards her lips. “My Dear…” Suddenly she was once again his mother, the pretty woman with light brown eyes and dark hair, sun kissed skin and the most beautiful smile in the world.

Eren felt lighter than before and placed his small child’s hand above his mother’s. She only looked at him briefly, out of the corner of her eyes, before taxing Grisha again. The three of them stayed like this for a while in total silence. Only a far away, old and male voice asked when it was finally time for dinner.

The clearing of a throat crushed the family idly and Eren and his mother heavily flinched.

Carla’s head shot high to look at the creator of the noice’s face. Her own one suddenly started to twitch wildly.

“Mr. Jäger, can I please talk to you for a moment?”, a man in a white coat said. From his father Eren knew that doctors dressed like that.

Grisha got up and agreed with a dark look on his face. “Eren, sit down for so long. I’ll be right back.”

“You are a doctor?”, Eren heard the other man ask when he walked away with his father. The latter didn’t answer, maybe he had only nodded. “Then you must know about the condition your wife is in.”

Eren couldn’t hear more from the conversation. But from the look on his mother’s face, he could tell that her glance followed them.

He didn’t want to turn out like her. What was that for a life? Eren still couldn’t quite understand what was wrong with his mother, but he knew she always forgot things, sometimes even him or his father and that she always flapped around her arms. He didn’t want that, especially not the thing with forgetting. Carefully he took her hand between both of his. “I’m not gonna forget you, Mama”, he said tenderly and patted her hand that was gaunt and wiry. “I promise.”

Carla looked at her boy dumbfounded before pulling her eyebrows into a painful grimace. “Oh Eren, my little baby,” she cried and thick tears wobbled out of her eyes. Fragile and smaller as he remembered her she sat on that horribly uncomfortable chair, her hand between the small palms of her son.

Scared by her sudden burst of emotion Eren pulled his hands away. Two faces, so similar to each other that everyone would see their connection, looked at each other with a mixture of horror and hurt.

When his father returned, Eren asked him to leave.

“Come back soon!”, he heard his mother say softly when Grisha leaned down to her and kissed her.

He promised they would, of course he did. And of course they kept their promise. Eren couldn’t say how many hours of his youth he had spent in that foster home that cared for his mother. The doctors and nurses there did a wonderful job, they deeply cared for his mother, who visibly crumpled infront of her small family’s eyes. She got thinner and thinner and ever more erratic. Until she neither recognized Grisha nor Eren. Sometimes she remembered to have a son called Eren but in her memory he was still a ten-years-old that had broken his arm while wrestling with his friends. That the handsome young man infront of her was her small Eren, she wouldn’t get the idea despite their striking resemblance.

Finally her spasticies became so bad that it became too dangerous to let her eat solid food and she got a feeding tube. From this moment on, things went continuously down hill for Carla Jäger, whose husband was a doctor himself who slowly broke down by looking at her.

Almost exactly ten years after moving to the foster home and a little over 13 years after her diagnosis Carla died on a stormy fall evening. She hadn’t seen her son in four month, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

But losing his mother had broken something deep inside of Eren. Now a full grown man, he knew which fate his mother had handed down to him. But he also knew back than, how he would be reacting towards it, when his time came.

>>next

__________________________________________________

Author’s Note: Hey, thank you for coming back to me! I hope you don’t mind when long flashbacks like this are all in Italics, I know they can be hard to read. Just for Context: Carla was 30 when she had Eren in this story and she dies at 51. Can’t have a main character without a tragic family backstory, can we? See you for the next part!

#attack on titan fanfiction #aot ff #eremika #eren jaeger #carla jaeger #grisha jaeger #once i'm gone #once i'm gone chap 1 #once i'm gone chap 1 part 2 #eren jaeger x mikasa ackerman #grisha jaeger x carla jaeger #writers on tumblr #fanfiction on tumblr #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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bigmafluff · 3 years ago

Text

My Story Chapt.1 & 2

Story!

The Ultimate Fan fiction/Love story! Tom Hiddleston,

This is fiction it is not real I'm not this lucky!

family!Courage ! Faith! And Kids! This book is a new life after parenthood. It is my new journey. And a not so guilty obsession. Thanks for reading!

Summary.

What happens When a Single Mom Who Has devoted her Soul to her Family. receives her Empty nest papers . That the world said she would never have. Hi I'm Shannon ! I'm a writer well I want to be . Need a Publisher first. Where are the Best . In the U.K. Didn't count on Love too. Come find out what happened. It's a great adventure.

Chapter 1

A shocking encounter.

{I want to break free. By Queen, Hello By Lionel Richie, and I can't feel my my face. By the weekend}

FREEDOM!

A new Beginning ! Yup something I thought this would never have. You see I'm a Autism Mom and helped my sis raise her 2 kid when she couldn't by herself. I was One of those mom's that where told That .I was gonna be Raising my Son Lucas all my life. Well God and Lucas had other plans. I'm So Dang Proud!!!!!! So Kids grown. Lucas has an Aide, A Job as a Mechanic/Car dealer back Home . I think the mechanic stuff is his hobbies cause My Lucas Love's to tinker. My Nephew is working for NASA/ and Microsoft which I also think

NASA thing is the hobbies . As I said Tinker Just smaller. Now My Niece Katrina . She Is my Butterfly . Totally out side the box, 4 tour's In the Navy. She's A Young Mama and A News Caster In Little Rock, Arkansas, USA. Here's the twist Her and Her kids do Video's on YouTube for fun.

Enough about My Babies. Writing was not the only reason to Go across the Pond to America's Father land. I had recently gone through several Surgeries to fix my body after losing a extreme amount of weight from a Lifetime of Issues with my weight. 2 charities offer to help me finish that Journey but the only Plastic Surgeon willing to touch me Is at Oxford University Hospital. So Here I Go A Strange women in a strange land .

So When I was all of sudden a Empty nest . I was struck with something I haven't thought bout sense childhood . What do I do when I grow up! LOL !! So I hit my bucket List and started @ the 2 Largest and hardest things to accomplish on that list . Fix my body and Write! . So College to get my literary degree. While Extreme Yoga, Running , lil' bit of Martial art's and Lessons In all form's of skating! [Skating Hobby AKA on DA list!] God, family, and Music Made it all worth it and surprisingly easy! Dream's come when your are working hard and not Looking for it. These are one of those.

Now I'm in a UK/London Airport bundled up with 3 List's and a map on my phone .Braving the unknown, Trying to find DA Baggage claim and Customs in the rather Large Heathrow Airport . Dang!!!! it was noisy! Honestly I wasn't even paying no attention to were I was going. I was just Focused on Trying hard to get out of this busy packed Building ,Stress &Anxiety times 10!!!!!

while heading to Customs Dragging 2 rolling cases and Large tote on my shoulder. I'm walking past a group of screaming women and teens along with flashing lights from camera's Butt I was determined to stay focused on Why I'm in a hurry. I hit something head on and drop to the ground my tote spill and it was like hitting a wall and all of a sudden all the noise stopped. I don't care who says other wise, British and Aussie Ascent's are smooth and sexy and butter! The are several men in the U.K. That send my fan girl hormones into Overload. But only 3 are Single Tom Hiddleston, Henry Cavill, and Luke Evan's.

Now Tom Hiddleston is epic. Stage, screen, voice, He is it. He is melt worthy . Hint's the screamers! 6/2 160 Stormy blue eyes , He's strutting the Black dye job for a movie he just finished he is a naturally curly blonde. I'm a sucker For men's curls no Joke. Pure Killer Eye Candy !!!!!

As I try to pick my things up and apologize I see a hand also picking up my things . He touched my hand and I look up and see those wonderful blue's I start to shake to nervous to talk . I shake my head and Just finish picking up my things . I don't have time for this and I don't want to have a fainting spell from nerves it this Airport. So keeping my head down I stand . Say Thank you and Apologize again for slamming into the man and Leave before he says anything.

One hour Later!!!!!

I made it to my hotel via Uber. I changed , called family especially Lucas my Captain America. I ordered pizza {Yes ! there is Pizza in the U.K."} And was going thru everything and found my Chromebook! But my Ticket receipt and my Night Manager Novel is missing . Well that sucks 'I'm hoping I can get home on the stub. I wasn't as mad about the receipt as I was about my Book. I Just bought it. Before I left I had watched the series With my sister. She said that I had to read

the book to get the full experience. I only just got past the 2nd chapter when I landed. Anyways I was laying down and working on the next book in my children's book arsenal. When I must of passed out . Cause I woke to The ringing of my phone.

I go to answer it .Noticing it was already morning. A very groggy Lucas Wishes Mama a good morning and goodnight due to the time difference. After 45minutes for trying to tell my son I am OK and he needed to go to bed. I was finally able to shower and get ready for my day. I decided to stay and write today so my body can adjust before I go rampaging thru London looking for a publisher. I got half way thru Luca 's day in wonderland when I git a knock at My room door.

I open The door and there he is again invading my Life and charging hormones I thought long dead. Thomas William Hiddleston and he was holding my book with the receipt sticking out of it and a white rose . I'm thinking DA rose was a sign of peace. I'm standing there speechless. I think He realized I was a little Star struck so he helped me Back in to my room . Sat me down and brought me the water bottle I had on my Nightstand . I took a sip and Shook My self out of the fog I was in.

I begin to stutter and When he put His Finger over my lips. He then Said " Calm yourself Girl then we have Us a chat Yes? Where is the Tea around here ,or do you drink it" . All I could do is point to the Mini fridge. Curiously He Looks in the fridge . Then I remembered The English drink it hot . Then I said Finally calmed enough to be clear.

" Stop ! Look above it next to the coffee pot. I drink my Tea cold. I'm sorry! I think the stuff you want is in the Lil' treasure box next to The pot Sir. After a Little while Mr. Hiddleston And I Had interesting Chat . Yes we did. Basically This very conceded ,Arrogant , But Knock-out Gorgeous Man. Basically Had to find me Just because I didn't ask his name or for selfie or any thing. Honestly I think he was Just messing with me cause He Saw My Funko babies on the coffee table . Yes! There were a couple of His there.

He asked what I was doing here In his Home Across the pond. I showed him my stories on my Chromebook. Hey I was thinking he might be able to help me. I told him I was looking for a publisher . I also told him I was Do to have surgery I a couple of weeks, while I was here at the University Hospital. Hey When I get nervous thing's just spew I can't help it. So I told Him all of It Right down to my sudden empty nest. All while he read one of my Stories and nodding. He is in the middle of, Luca and The Golden Lion.

Thomas asked me some Questions about the story. I asked him some to. We bantered and I was surprisingly calm and comfy just chatting along. No longer nervous or anxious . We had been talking for hours . Tom was getting ready to leave . He handed me my book then held my hand there then whispered in my ear making me shiver." Still no selfie , no autograph, or Scream, Well Mrs. Jones. I would say You weren't a fan except for your greeting. So what is a Guy to do to get your attention. We will find out won't we, Till I see you again my Lady." I closed the door behind him as he left. Then promptly passed out right therein front of the door. Life just got interesting !

Chapter 2

Career Change Wow!

[Walking on Sunshine by Katrina and the waves, Hay YA by OutKast, High hopes By Panic at the disco.]

I woke the next morning to sunshine and birdsong. It must be a sign I am on the right track. So Coffee a Shower and breakfast burrito's at McDonald's, and I'm out in London . I'm Publisher hunting. I had a call from the Hospital about my per-opp appointment for surgery. That is in a few day's. So Little nervous about that . As I walk into my first office building then I Stop in the lobby when my phone rings.

It was a local # so I answered . It was a Guy named Luke Parsons He is a free lance publisher that heard about my stories. I was shocked how did he hear about me. He asked if we could meet at his office at 3pm. I agreed,he gave me the address and hung up. I went in to the build kinda stoked . I figure I try all my options. So through out the day I went to many publishing companies all saying the same which pissed me off to no end. But did I show it NO. Just because I'm American they won't even Look at them. I couldn't even eat . I grabbed a Juice @ a convenience store, then went back to my hotel to change. I needed time to find this place for my 3:00 meeting with Mr. parsons and I want to make a good impression since I was rejected so many other times today.

So I decided to call a Uber because I felt I had been walking all day and needed a small break . When we Pulled up to the Building and guess who was standing there with a smart ass smile on his face! Yup! Tom was opening my door after paying the driver , which I didn't expect. He grabs My hand and kisses my palm. Honestly why is a guy like him even paying me any attention . I'm not the tiny,skinny little thing that he is normally with and I don't act or sing. It's frustrating and exhilarating at the same time. GOD HELP ME!!! I told my self.

I asked Tom what he was doing here and then everything clicked. He told Mr. Parson's about me. When I asked how he knew Mr. Parsons. Tom told me that Luke was a Publicist by trade but had a small publishing company on the side as a hobby. So not letting go of my hand Thomas took me inside to meet Luke. Tom stayed in the waiting room as I went into Luke's office. He didn't have a huge office, but it was still dark and intimidating. The tall blonde man in the gray suit, stood and shook my hand . And I sat in the chair across from his desk. when I was going to speak. But he straight shut mt up with a finger. He started Hounding me about Tom. Ii became Anxious and when that happens I Babble and stutter badly. I spilled everything from my weight to the confrontation @ my hotel. By that point I am crying and Thomas came in and took one look at me and Was about to give Luke the business when Luke stopped him Saying He needed to Gage my character. Do to the fact that Thomas was one of his most prominent Clients. I relaxed cause Tom did. And Luke apologized .

When all was calmed. Tom pulled a chair next to me. He told me to go ahead and give Luke my flash drive with my book copies on it . All while holding my hand and rubbing my back . I have to admit I had a small smile on my face cause I was feeling @ peace with TWH sitting and pampering me. It was nice. Mr. Parsons plugged my flash drive into his desk top. While telling me to call him Luke. He said regardless if he likes mysteries or not He is probably gonna see a lot of me because he was Tom's Publicist. I am not giving any weight to that remark not yet .AHAHAH!!!! As Luke was reading Tommy and I were talking and Honestly I needed to get a lot of my frustration's off my chest .Unfortunately Thomas was my victim , willing I might add considering he was grinning the whole time.

Once I was done giving the 3rd degree to Tommy. He squeezed my hand then answered." Well Shannon. I have been in this business for a while now and out of all my so called fans. I never had one Ignore me! They'll always wanted something from me. A picture, to Kneel,autograph,selfie,hug,any attention I would give they sucked it from me. But when you ran into me at the airport. The funko toy's spilling from your bag told me your were a fan and I saw your face you recognized me, I heard you breath hitch. Yet you said sorry and left. No selfie, No nothing. It intrigued me so much I had Luke here who was with me that day check you out using the stub and book with your name and address in America in it . Which also gave me more proof you were a fan." as he continues to explain I look at him in awe he has no clue how bad I want to fan girl and ask for all those things but my heart may be with him but my mind is on what Luke is doing because Luke has my future in his hands.

Back to Tom's explanation." Shannon I came to your room Just to give a fan a gift. On my way to my Mother's for lunch. I ended up canceling lunch when you froze on me. Then I was so humbled by your nervousness. Dearling ." He says as he caresses my face ,raising Luke's eyebrows he is reading. Tom finally finishes with," As I was leaving your room I knew I had to know you more and since you were Looking for someone to help you get your stories read I talked to Luke about it and he was happy to get a new client especially one not for the public business but for His hobby. Now that I explained everything Love turn and listen to Luke I think he has something to say."

That caught my attention. I shook off the haze from listening to Tom . Turned my head to see a smiling almost ecstatic Luke. Looking at us. Then retold me he loved my stories. He said the fan-fix he even might know someone who might want to turn it into a play with the right circumstances. The other 2 he wanted to know if this is a story arc Like the old Harry Potter Series going on cause he could make it happen if there was gonna be more. He also asked about the Illustration in the stories.

I answered him promptly,about Luca and his daydreams and how they relate to my son who is Autistic and who also did the pictures for my stories Neither of them realized I was a mother . Which took both by surprise. Luke asked if I was married . OMG ! Would I have let Tom flirt with me if I was. Yes ! I would have, But I told Luke the truth I have been separated and divorced. For many years. And my Son is almost 30. that floored Tom ! I guess he thought is was younger Ha! Wait till he finds out I'm 2 years older than him. Dang straight! Cougar Power !

Now I get excited when Luke pulls a rather large group of paper's out of his desk. And writes on them. The put's them in front of me and explains. "Now Shannon can I call you that . Of course I can!" I just nod quietly." Well Shannon this is a contact for exclusivity. So anything you write is published through our Publishing company. So any fan based Fiction, Lucas stories all of it Go through us. Do you understand that Shannon?" I nod in understanding. He continues, "I am going to pay you up front for the 3 stories you have now plus signing bonus. Although only 2 are guaranteed to hit book shelves very Quickly.

Also I am Also going out of my way and despite conflict of interest with Tom I going to take you on to navigate your public appearance as well. You will need that for book signing's and such. I will also make sure Lucas gets paid for all his pictures and any future picture's for your book's. Now one last thing that may help ease your mind a bit Shannon. Tom Has nothing to do with this contract or the merit of your stories. It was just a lucky shot for both of us that He was the one you ran into in the Airport and that he knew what Me and a few friends do in our spare time. Helping Storytellers get their stories read when no one else would is what we at Parsonage publishing are here to do most the commissions I'll receive for your book go to the Literacy foundation here in the U.K. Which is 5% but I also am taking10% for my Public work. But you won't even need to worry Shannon. I'm prepared to make you a very Popular and rich woman."

Honestly I am froze I did not think Lucas's and My stories would be this popular. Especially on there own merit. I'm speechless! Until Thomas starts shaking me to get my attention. I Turn, Tom point's to Luke. I turn and Luke asks? " Shannon Darling did you get all of it or do I need to repeat any of it?" I tell Luke as I take a look at the contraction front of me. Tom still holding my hand and I am thankful for the support. I got it surprisingly knew what the whole Author gig entails so to have Luke help me with both sides of that is a life saver, but I still have one or two questions.

" OK Luke ! I got most of it I am just got a couple questions? 1st Are you sure about the Public side I can find another if it helps your piece of mind. Also Are you sure my little stories are gonna get that popular and Last if so who has a pen. To my shock and tears. He answered all my question reassuring me of his sincerity and excitement .He also gave me a pen to sign my first almost million $Contract. I was so giddy . Luke asked for my main info like email ,cell, direct deposit > I just realized I'm not a disabled parent anymore. I am A writer/Author ,gainfully employed . I am crying Laughing and falling off my chair taking Tom with me.

While Luke gets me copy of my contract I had just signed . Tom Kisses my palm then he was kissing the my forehead. Then He shocks me by looking me straight in the eyes , Blue on Blue then asking out to Dinner tonight. WAS THIS A DATE!!!!!!????????????????

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wistfulcynic · 4 years ago

Text

The Bend of the Arc (3/ 4)

SUMMARY: Emma Swan hates Killian Jones at first sight. He's everything she despises in a man: arrogant, provocative, and a known criminal associate of the city’s most notorious gangster. She’s determined to put him behind bars, until a shocking event forces them together and Emma discovers that there’s a lot more to Killian than meets the eye.

Rating: M (smut and language) Words: 9.3k (of 30k total) Tags: Modern AU, enemies to lovers, bounty hunter!Emma, criminal!Killian, smut, bedsharing

Part One | Part Two | On AO3

PART THREE:

Emma awoke again to an empty bed, to the indentation of Killian’s head in the pillow next to her and his familiar spicy scent. This time though the light through the windows was the bright pale yellow of early morning and she could hear noises from the other room, the clatter of utensils and the sizzle of cooking food. They were accompanied by a rich aroma of coffee, which Emma followed eagerly to the kitchen where Killian was standing at the stove scrambling some eggs.

“Morning, Swan,” he said cheerfully. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“How do you take it?”

“Um, I don’t suppose you have any cinnamon-flavoured coffee creamer?”

He turned to her with an expression of such genuine horror that she burst out laughing.

“I absolutely do not,” he declared. “What abomination is that?”

“You probably don’t want to know. In that case, milk and plenty of sugar, please.”

As he prepared her a cup she looked around the kitchen, noting that in addition to the scrambled eggs there was a plate of whole wheat toast and a bowl of fruit salad.

“You really do eat healthy, don’t you?” she observed.

“Well, you know what they say, love. The body is a temple.” He handed her the coffee with a grin and a quirked eyebrow. “And mine certainly deserves to be worshipped.”

“Sure it does,” she replied, hiding her own grin. “You just keep thinking that. I’ll stick to my cinnamon creamer.” She half expected him to make some remark about her body deserving better or that he’d be happy to worship her if she wasn’t going to, but he didn’t. Instead, he said:

“There’s plenty of food if you’d like some too. Help yourself.”

“Oh.” Emma squashed the flare of disappointment, which she shouldn’t even feel. “Um, are you sure?”

“Of course.” He smiled again and handed her a plate. “Like I said before, have whatever you like. We don’t know how long we’ll be here and I don’t want you to spend weeks feeling like you have to ask me every time you want something to eat. And if I’m cooking it’s no problem to make enough for two.”

Emma took the plate, ignoring the flutter of excitement low in her belly at the prospect of weeks here alone with Killian, focusing instead on loading up her plate with toast and eggs and after a short debate, a few spoonfuls of fruit. She took her meal over to the window seat and sat down, peering up at the scattered patches of blue sky she could make out through the trees.

“So what do you do when you’re here?” she asked.

“Read, mostly,” Killian replied, making himself comfortable in his chair. “Go for walks. Swim.”

“Swim?”

“Aye, there’s a little lake not far from here. The water is absolutely freezing but it’s amazingly clear.” He paused, then gave her a cautious smile. “We could go sometime. Er, if you’d like.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” The flutter intensified, and Emma concentrated on her food.

“Well, um, just let me know.” Killian toyed with chunk of orange on his plate. “I’m planning to go for a walk after breakfast actually. You’re welcome to come along. I can show you where the lake is, and some other landmarks.”

That sounded kind of wonderful, she thought. As cosy as the cabin was, she didn’t like the idea of being stuck in it all day. “I’d like that, actually, but I haven’t got any shoes I could hike in,” she pointed out. “Or, you know, clothes.”

“Oh. Right. Of course. Well you can wear my clothes, but the shoes do present something of a problem.” His brow creased as he thought. “I’m pretty sure I have a pair of sneakers somewhere that are a bit too small for me. With a couple pairs of socks they might do for you. I can dig them out. I mean—only if you want to.”

“Yeah.” Emma smiled at him. “That sounds great. Thanks.”

They finished their breakfasts in companionable silence, then Emma went to take a shower and change into the jeans, clean tee and flannel shirt that Killian provided, and two pairs of his thick socks. His shoes were ridiculously big on her but she laced them tightly and with a bit of practice managed to walk well enough, though, as she told him wryly, she now had a fuller appreciation of what being a clown felt like.

“Good job they’re not red shoes, then, really,” he remarked with a grin.

They set out into the forest, Killian carrying a rucksack packed with a compass, blanket, and thermos of coffee. Though he’d agreed with her the day before that he wasn’t an outdoorsy type, she couldn’t help noticing how comfortable he seemed. and wondered how much time he spent at the cabin. It wasn’t exactly easy to get to and a man like him could hardly just disappear and have his absence go unnoticed, but then everything was so perfectly designed and equipped to be a snug little haven for him that it couldn’t only be for emergencies.

It felt like his home, and she felt a bit like an intruder.

Killian led her through the trees along no path she could see, but soon enough they emerged just above a small, round lake, bright blue and shimmering in the morning sunshine.

“Oh,” she gasped. “That’s beautiful.”

“Mmm,” he agreed. “Colder than a witch’s tit, as I said, but refreshing. Shall we sit for a while?” He gestured at an outcrop of rock just to their left, with a wide, flat surface like a low table.

“Ah, sure.”

She watched as he dug the blanket out of his rucksack and spread it over the rock, then hopped up onto it and sat cross-legged, glad of the insulation between her butt and the cold surface. Killian sat next to her, and after another rummage in the rucksack produced a large enamel mug.

“What’s this for?” she asked, taking it.

“Coffee.” He pulled out the thermos and popped it open, filling the mug before she could object.

“Um.” Emma didn’t want to be ungrateful, but—“I don’t drink it black.”

“Never fear, Swan,” he smirked, withdrawing another, smaller thermos. “Your abhorrent coffee-related proclivities have been noted. Put some of this in.”

The small thermos proved to be filled with sweetened milk and “Is that cinnamon!” Emma exclaimed.

“Aye. I had some cinnamon sticks and I heated one up with the milk. Perhaps not on the level of your coffee creamer, but it should do for now.”

Emma poured the warm, fragrant milk into her mug and sipped with a happy sigh. “It’s really good,” she said, with a sidelong glance at him.

He smiled his boyish smile and rubbed at his neck, just below his ear. “I’m glad you like it,” he replied softly.

They sat in silence for a long while, sipping their coffee and taking in the scenery. It was a comfortable silence, Emma realised, and a companionable one. Silence normally made her jumpy and anxious, but she had never felt that way with Killian, not from the very beginning. She cast another glance at him from the corner of her eye, wondering what he was thinking. His face was calm and unreadable, his eyes on the trees across the lake.

When the thermoses were empty he re-packed them in his rucksack and they continued on their walk. Emma kept a sharp eye out as they went, trying to spot anything that looked familiar. She felt pretty sure they were heading back towards the cabin but they seemed to be following a different route than the one they had taken away from it.

Killian confirmed this a moment later.

“The cabin is over there,” he said, pointing off to their left. “You can just see it through the trees.”

Emma squinted. “Yeah—yeah, I see it.”

“And just there”—he pointed directly in front of them—“is a stream that leads down to the lake where we left the motorboat. If you ever need to get back to that lake, follow the stream.”

Emma gave him a sharp look. “Why would I need to get back to that lake?”

He turned to her with a solemn expression. “Very few people know about this cabin,” he said, “and all of them are people I trust, people who owe me considerable debts and loyalty. It’s extremely unlikely Gold will ever find us here. But a wise man takes precautions even against unlikely developments. If you ever need to get back to that lake, Emma, follow this stream. Can you remember that?”

Emma shivered, and not from the brisk forest air. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll remember.”

Killian sighed and his shoulders relaxed. “Good. Shall we go back?”

They didn’t speak when they returned to the cabin, busying themselves with unpacking the rucksack and rinsing the thermoses, then making some sandwiches for lunch with the remaining fruit salad. Killian took up his book again and Emma did the same, spending a relaxed few hours discovering how the pirate captain and his love found their happy ending.

She got a bit emotional over it, to her chagrin, but that was nothing to how she felt when she began reading the next book she picked from Killian’s shelves. This one was a story of love lost and regained, of a boy who went off to war not knowing he was leaving his best friend pregnant after a night they could barely remember, then returned years later scarred and fragile to find her again, along with the son he never knew he had. It made Emma’s heart ache, and she didn’t realise she was crying until Killian appeared at her side with a plate of chicken and salad for her dinner and boundless empathy in his voice.

“Are you all right, love?”

She startled at the question and wiped the tears from her cheeks with a sharp, impatient gesture, not looking up. She knew he would be looking at her with that gentle understanding in his eyes, and she wasn’t equipped to deal with that in her current mood.

“Yeah,” she said, accepting the plate. “I’m fine.”

They ate in silence, Killian sitting down and taking up his book again, but Emma felt too raw to return to hers though she was desperate to know how the story ended.

“I really don’t cry very often,” she blurted. “Honestly. Before yesterday I think the last time was—” Fuck.

“Was when?” His voice was calm and undemanding. If she refused to answer he would accept that decision and not try to push. But Emma found herself wanting to answer. She wanted to talk about it, wanted him to know. Maybe it was the intimacy of the cabin or the fact that she would never see him again once this was all over. Or maybe it was because she knew—knew—that he would understand.

“The day I had my baby,” she replied. “And gave him away.”

Taking a deep breath, she looked over at him and there it was, the understanding in those blue eyes, understanding and empathy and not a hint of judgement. “That sounds like something worthy of your tears,” he said.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” she choked, as her eyes brimmed again. “But I still think about it. Every year on his birthday.”

“It must have been a very difficult decision.”

She laughed, low and bitter. “It wasn’t, though. It was easy. I didn’t—I didn’t want to give him up but I knew I couldn’t keep him. There was just no way I could take care of him; I was barely eighteen, I’d dropped out of high school, I was in ja—” Her eyes flew to his and he gave her a small smile.

“You were in jail, for the theft of some rather valuable watches,” he finished.

She huffed. “Do I want to know how you know that?”

“Probably not.”

Emma wiped her cheeks again and took a bite of chicken. She felt better in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her chest less tight and the heart within it less heavy. She thought about Killian digging up information on her as she had on him, and found she didn’t hate the idea.

“So did you research me, then?” she asked.

“I did.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “It seemed only fair, as I knew you would do the same.”

“Sure, but I was trying to catch you doing something illegal,” she shot back, throwing the words down like a challenge, daring him to take offence. “What was your excuse?”

His expression shifted, not into anger but something just as dark, something that made her catch her breath. “I told you, Swan, you intrigue me.”

Emma’s belly twisted at the deep timbre of his voice. “I—I can’t think why.”

“Abandoned as a baby, shunted through the foster system until you ran away when you were sixteen, fell in with a rough crowd,” he enumerated, holding her gaze. “You very nearly stumbled down a path that led to more serious crime and far lengthier jail time. But you didn’t. You sorted yourself out, found a career that suits you, became the best at it. You took control of your life, and you did it all on your own. That takes a great deal of courage and determination.”

“I—never looked at it that way before.”

“Perhaps you should start.” His voice was still pitched deep but also meltingly soft, his eyes intense. “You’re a remarkable woman, Emma Swan.”

Emma didn’t reply. She had no idea what to say—his words and the way he spoke them, the way he looked at her made her feel hot and weak inside even as her skin crackled with tense energy.

Killian closed his book and laid it on the table. She watched as his jaw muscle flexed, and when he leaned back in his chair and met her eyes again his own were conflicted.

“I knew Neal Cassidy,” he said grimly. “He worked for Pan.”

“I know who he worked for,” Emma spat. “Now I do, I mean, I didn’t then. I thought he was like me, a lost kid all alone.” She scowled as she remembered how stupid she’d been, how many glaring red flags she’d ignored in her desperation to believe Neal’s lies. “I thought we could be each other’s family, but it turned out he already had one of those. Just not the sort of family I was looking for. I guess—I guess it makes sense that you would’ve known him.” She hated to think about it though. Hated even hearing Neal’s name from Killian’s mouth. “Did you know that I was the one who put him in jail?”

“No I didn’t, though that also makes sense.” Killian’s lips twitched. “That must have been satisfying.”

“Oh it was. Even more than when I nailed the foster father who stuck his hand down my pants then threw me onto the streets when I fought back, and told the state I’d run away.” She smirked. “I bet you didn’t read that in my files.”

That muscle was leaping in his jaw again, and his eyes were lethal. “I did not,” he growled. “Swan—”

“Yep. He tried to assault me and nothing happened to him, they wrote me off as a runaway and gave him another foster kid to abuse. But he got arrested eventually, for indecent exposure, and when he skipped bail I took great pleasure in hauling his worthless ass to jail.”

Killian’s fury was palpable, his fists clenched on the arms of his chair and his jaw like iron. “Bloody bastard got less than he deserved,” he snarled.

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Emma was caught in her emotion, in the fury that always bubbled up when she thought about all the men in her life who’d mistreated her and got away with it, who manipulated and bargained their way out of trouble. “Of course he didn’t actually stay in jail,” she sneered. “His lawyer cut him a deal and he walked away with probation.” Her own fist clenched at the memory. “I hate that so fucking much, that so many people do shitty things and are never punished for them. I hate people who try to escape consequences that they fucking deserve.”

“Ah.”

Too late Emma recalled who she was speaking to, and the root of the conflict between them. “Killian, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes you did.” He smiled with his mouth but his eyes were desolate, aching with emotions she could swear she felt along with him, bitter recrimination and regret. “It’s fine, love, I understand. I—if you’ll excuse me I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He nodded. “Good night, Swan.”

“Good night.”

She watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, heard the water running through the pipes and the flush of the toilet, then he came out again and went straight into the bedroom without so much as a glance at her, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Emma picked up her plate and his as well, took them to the sink and slowly washed them, stacked them in the dish rack neatly as she’d seen Killian do. She put the leftover salad in the fridge and wiped down the counters, making sure everything was lined up and tidy the way he liked it. Then she tidied the living room.

When she’d stalled for as long as she could she went to the bathroom, washed her face and brushed her teeth and changed back into the pajama pants and t-shirt she’d worn the day before. Approaching the bedroom door as quietly as she could she listened for a moment but heard nothing, and hoped that meant Killian was asleep. She pressed her forehead hard against the grain of the wood, trying hard not to think about the pain in his eyes and her own upset at having put it there. She did that all the time, spoke before she thought and hurt people with her words, but she had never felt truly sorry for it until now. If people didn’t like hearing the truth then they shouldn’t do things that made the truth painful to hear—that was Emma’s philosophy and it should apply to Killian too, she thought fiercely. He was a criminal and he should be in jail, and yet the thought of putting him there made her stomach churn.

Almost as much as it was churning at the thought of going into the bedroom and getting into bed with him. She reminded herself that they’d shared that bed twice already, but this time she would be awake for it, to hear his breathing and feel the warmth of his body and—she shook those thoughts from her head.

Opening the door as quietly as she could, she crept to the bed, her footfalls barely audible on the floorboards. The room was dark save for the ivory moonlight that filtered through the trees to cast shifting shadow patterns over the bed and Killian’s still form upon it.

She slid in beside him, trying to move as little as possible as she adjusted her pillows and the blankets around her. He remained still but for the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, slow and even, though she sensed he wasn’t sleeping.

She rolled over onto her side to face the back he had turned to her, finding him closer even than she’d envisioned. The bed seemed so big when she was alone in it, but with Killian there beside her it shrank to nearly nothing. She could reach out so easily, he was right there, the back of his head inches from her face, his hair so thick and soft…

Emma flopped onto her back and threw her arm over her eyes. Killian shifted and for a moment she thought he might roll over… but he burrowed deeper into his pillow and then was still again, his breathing determinedly measured.

I’m so sorry, she thought at him. I meant it but also I didn’t and—I’m just sorry I hurt you Killian. I never wanted to hurt you.

She didn’t realise she’d said the words aloud until he sighed and she felt him speak as much as heard it.

“It’s all right, Emma. Truly. Go to sleep.”

Emma rolled onto her side again, her back to his back, and closed her eyes. It was a long time before she slept.

That day became the model for their routine. Killian woke first and had coffee waiting for Emma when she got up. They ate breakfast together then took a long walk, returning for lunch and an afternoon spent reading, then dinner and conversation—carefully neutral conversation that deliberately avoided anything too personal or any reference to their jobs or their pasts or how they’d met. Despite this, Emma soon realised that those discussions were opening her eyes to the truth of Killian, the complex and fascinating man that lay beneath what she had come to recognise as his own brand of armour, as thick and impenetrable as her own.

On the fifth day they went outside at twilight and built a bonfire in the fire pit behind the cabin, roasting potatoes and eggs in the ashes, and she actually teased him about the lack of s’mores, laughing until she cried at his exaggerated horror as she described toasting marshmallows and squishing them between layers of chocolate and graham cracker. When they went to bed that night she feared the tension would suffocate her, lying there with his scent in her nose and her fingertips barely brushing against a fold in his shirt, not a touch he could feel but one that squeezed the air from her lungs and made her ache with the inadequacy of it.

On the sixth day they went swimming.

They walked to the lake, towels packed in Killian’s rucksack, he with swim trunks on under his clothes and she wearing another of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxer briefs she was trying hard not to think about.

She had been trying hard not to think about a lot of things relating to Killian lately, like that armour he wore so well she’d entirely failed to spot it at first. To be fair to herself, his act was good. Really good. So good she’d been taken in completely, her superpower rendered useless by her visceral outrage at his taunting and how thoroughly she’d despised him. He’d known exactly what buttons to push to make her so angry she wouldn’t think to look deeper, or to consider that maybe he had to behave as he did to have any hope of surviving among the dangerous people he worked with.

Once they’d arrived at the cabin—or no, before that even. In the car with the handkerchief, before they’d even begun their journey here he’d dropped the act so completely that now she could barely remember it, could hardly call up any of the hot fury and bitter loathing she’d felt for him for the best part of a year. After less than a week in his company—his true company—it had gone up like smoke with no trace left behind and what remained…

That was another thing Emma had been trying hard not to think about.

Killian led her down to the shore of the lake where he spread their towels down on the sandy grass and shot her a grin as he began to unbutton his shirt. It wasn’t a suggestive grin, though, thought Emma with a surge of frustration she wished she didn’t feel. It was a nice, friendly grin, exactly the sort of grin he’d been grinning, when he chose to grin, since their arrival. She never would have thought she’d miss his innuendoes but damn it she did. She missed the challenge of them and the excuse they gave her to snap back and relieve her feelings. The way sparring with him made her blood race.

Not that she needed help to get her blood racing, she reflected with an internal groan as Killian began to strip down to his trunks. Just being near him was excruciating enough, with his face and his eyes and his chest that was never freaking covered and the way he always smelled so damned delicious and—Emma gave herself a mental shake and concentrated on removing her own outer layers, pointedly ignoring the expanse of Killian’s bare back she could just see from the corner of her eye, the muscles in his shoulders and his legs— “Damn it,” she hissed under her breath as her fingers fumbled on a button.

It was the height of summer but their altitude and the heavy tree cover and the always-cold lake water put a nip in the air, and Emma shivered a bit when she stepped out of Killian’s jeans and shed his flannel shirt.

“Better get used to it,” he remarked. “The water’s colder.”

Emma eyed it warily. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“Absolutely. It’s bracing.”

“That sounds like something people say when they don’t want to say ‘you’re going to hate it,’” she retorted. “Next you’ll be telling me it builds character.”

He laughed, a deep, rolling sound that echoed over the water. “That it does,” he confirmed. “Best jump in all at once and get it over with. None of that ‘dipping a toe in’ nonsense.” He reached out, eyebrow quirked in challenge. “Ready?”

Emma hesitated only a moment before taking his hand, suppressing another shiver at the warmth of it, the slight roughness of his palm. It would feel so good stroking her bare skin, up her inner thigh until his fingers could slip between—no. Fuck. Damn it. She resisted the urge to smack herself in the forehead. Maybe a dip in a freezing lake was exactly what she needed.

“Let’s do this,” she said.

They took off at a run and plunged together into the water, Emma shrieking at the shock of cold but not stopping, letting Killian urge her along until the water was waist high and then diving under alongside him. She’d never felt anything like it, the cold so intense it sucked the air from her lungs, numbed her skin and the tips of her fingers and toes, and when she surfaced the cool air felt beautifully warm by contrast.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, shaking the water from her face and hair. “That was—”

Her eyes found Killian watching her with an expectant grin, water dripping down his head and making rivulets though the thick hair on his chest. She wanted to follow them with her fingertips and with her tongue and—

“It was what?” he encouraged.

“Bracing,” she finished. “You were right. I don’t think I’ve ever been so fucking braced.”

He laughed again. “You’ll get used to it, and swimming will warm you up. Get your breath back and then—” he leaned closer, eyebrow quirked. “—we race.”

They swam for the rest of the morning, racing to the centre of the lake and back, laughing and splashing each other and generally behaving like idiot children. Emma felt lighter and more carefree than she had for ages and also twisted up near to breaking in frustration and the stupid fucking longing she felt watching water droplets trail down the neck she wanted to lick, or drip from the hair she itched to feel between her fingers. How much more fun their morning in the lake would have been if she could have touched him as she wanted, she thought. If he would just touch her.

He was so careful not to. No accidental brushes of their fingers when he handed her a mug or a plate, no rolling over to be closer to her in bed. He might offer her his hand as he had earlier or to help her over a tricky patch of ground on their walks, but he always gave her the choice not to take it and he never, ever pushed.

It was almost enough to make her think that his come-ons from their early acquaintance had just been part of his act. But she knew his tells as well as he did hers—the tension in his shoulders and his jaw, the catch in his breath when she got too near him, and the way he stayed firmly on his side of the bed with his back to her, all night and every night. The heated look she’d caught on his face more than once that morning at the sight of her in wet and clinging clothing and how carefully he’d kept his distance while they swam together. Depriving her, Emma thought crossly, of the chance to let her hands glide over his wet skin and watch his eyes turn dark and hot and his lips—

“You ready, Swan?”

She jumped, looking up to see him dressed and relatively dry, smiling his friendly smile. “Um, yeah,” she replied. “Just about.”

She finished buttoning her shirt and shook out her towel, folded it up and handed it to Killian. He packed it into the rucksack which he then slung over his shoulder and side by side they headed back to the cabin.

When they got there Killian tossed their swimming clothes and towels in the washing machine and made them some lunch. They ate in their accustomed places, she curled on the window seat and he in his chair, each with a book. Emma’s was another romance—she would never admit it, but she was hooked on them now. They were surprisingly fascinating and Killian had been right about the sex—but that afternoon it couldn’t hold her attention. She kept glancing over at Killian and losing her train of thought, distracted by his fingers toying absently with his hair as he read, and how she could always tell when he was at an exciting part in his book because he would bite his lip and hold his breath, releasing it in a slow exhale when the suspense had passed. The hair peeking out from behind he open buttons on his shirt made her think of his bare chest that morning and how much she wanted to card her fingers through it, feel his hands on her and his mouth and his tongue, and—

“I don’t find you repugnant,” she blurted, and immediately wanted to fall into a hole and die.

“Um,” he looked up from his book with a little half-smile, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Thanks?”

“No, it’s just—before,” she stuttered, cheeks blazing bright pink. “The—the first night. You said you weren’t interested in pursuing women who find you repugnant. But I—don’t. I mean maybe once, but not anymore.”

His gaze sharpened with something that made her belly twist—the same fierce longing that tormented her. He closed his book and set it on the table.

“Swan,” he said slowly, in a voice that sounded choked. “What are you saying?”

“I—” She swallowed through her dry throat.

Killian stood from his chair and moved towards her, slowly but with that lithe grace that hinted at his ability to move much faster. God, she wanted to know how he could move. He stopped in front of her and held her gaze, his eyes intense.

“Are you saying that you want me to pursue you?”

She gulped. “Um—”

“Because Emma, if that’s what you want you have only to say the word.”

Emma’s heart was pounding and her breath short and fast. She could feel the heat of his body and the tingle of reaction in her own, and she wanted so badly to touch him. Wanted him to touch her, with his rough hands and his clever mouth—and from the heat in his eyes he wanted exactly the same, just as much. Yet he didn’t move and in a flash of understanding she realised that he wouldn’t, not ever—not unless she asked him to. He would never do anything she didn’t want, however much he might want it, and knowing that made Emma feel safer than she ever had in her life. Safe enough to let herself be soft, to smile at him with simple desire and simpler trust.

“That’s what I want,” she said softly. “I want you.”

The words had barely left her mouth when he was pulling her to her feet and into his arms, his fingers stroking across her cheek and sliding into her hair.

“Do you mean it?” he demanded, his voice a rough whisper. “Truly?”

“Yes. Yes I—” she said fiercely, trailing into a throaty moan when he kissed her.

The kiss was rough at first, desperate, demanding lips and tongues and teeth, her fingernails scoring his shoulders and his arm like iron around her waist, their harsh breaths sounding loud in the quiet cabin. But then he pressed her back against the wall and cupped her cheek in his palm, stroking her chin with his thumb as he slowed the kiss and gentled it, deepened it until she was sighing and melting against him, her hands fisted in his shirt.

She tugged the shirt from his jeans and fumbled with it, cursing all its buttons and wondering how mad he’d be if she just tore it off him when his hand slipped beneath her t-shirt to cup her breast and he gave a pained, strangled groan. Emma broke their kiss and frowned up at him, her fingers still working at his buttons.

“What is it?” she asked. “Are you okay? Is this o—”

“Yes! God, yes, its just that”—he stroked his thumb across her nipple, groaning again when she whimpered—“you’ve been wearing my t-shirts with no bra and it’s—it’s been rather distracting is all.”

She felt flushed at the idea of him noticing that and thinking about it, thinking about her and them and this, just as she’d been thinking of him. She finished unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it down his shoulders and when he pulled it off and tossed it aside she did the same with her t-shirt.

“Is that better?” she purred.

He pounced on her with a hiss of breath through his teeth, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her up so he could reach her nipples with his mouth. “Much better,” he growled against her pebbled skin. She laughed over a moan and sank her fingers into his hair, holding his head against her breast and wrapping her legs around his waist as he stumbled through the bedroom door and tumbled them onto the bed.

She purred as she reached for his chest, raking through the hair on it with her fingernails while he tugged his jeans off her, groaning when he found her bare beneath them. He sank to his knees next to the bed and draped her legs over his shoulders, kissing her knee and then a slow trail up one thigh as his hand caressed the other, ignoring her strangled pleas and the fingers grasping at his hair as he nuzzled his nose through her curls. She clawed at his head and dug her heels into his back and he looked up at her with an absolutely wicked grin before finally, finally gripping her thighs hard and burying his face between them.

She moaned and arched her back as he licked into her, clenched her legs around his head to hold him in place though he seemed in no hurry to go anywhere—humming deep in his throat as his tongue explored her slowly, thoroughly, as though there was nothing he savoured more in the world than the taste of her cunt, and Emma realised that she had never felt more beautiful than she did right there, in that moment.

He worked her up so high and held her so close to the edge that by the time he pressed the tip of his tongue against her clit that was all she needed, crying out as her fingers clutched at the blankets and her hips thrust up helplessly against his face. He licked her until she quieted, until she lay boneless and spent, then trailed kisses up her body, pressing a final one to her jaw before collapsing against her, his face in her hair.

“That was better than I imagined,” he panted. “And believe me when I tell you I imagined it a lot.”

“You did?”

He chuckled. “Oh, Swan. If you knew…”

She trailed her fingertips down his side to hook beneath the waistband of his jeans. “Why don’t you tell me,” she purred. “Or better yet, show me.”

“Well,” he growled, pressing a sucking kiss into the curve between her neck and shoulder then trailing down to nip at her collarbone. “I confess the majority of my fantasies involve fucking you in various locations and many, many positions, some of which I’ll be honest are probably physically impossible.”

She giggled as his mouth continued its path down her chest, his tongue swirling around one nipple as his fingers toyed with the other. “Like what?”

“Bent over the kitchen counter,” he murmured. “And the window seat and the arm of my chair. Wrapped around me in the bathtub, up against a tree, on the rock by the lake, in the lake. You sitting on the porch railing with your legs around my waist, or spread out on the ground with firelight on your skin as I make you come again and again and again…”

“And what about here?” she asked. “In the bed?”

He looked up at her, his face stark and earnest. “Every night, love. Every bloody night I’ve wanted to roll over and pull you close, kiss you until you were soft and aching and dripping wet, then strip your gorgeous body bare and make—make you feel good.”

“Mmmm.” His words sent heat licking through her veins, left her as aching and wet as he could hope for. “You’ve done that already.”

“Would you mind terribly if I did it again?”

His hand stroked down her belly and she let her knees fall apart as his fingers dipped inside her, her own hands scrabbling with the button and zipper on his jeans. She shoved them down and closed her fist around his cock, pumping it slowly as he groaned.

“Emma, I don’t—I don’t have anything—”

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control.”

She shifted beneath him, lining up their hips to bring the tip of him to her entrance and with a strangled moan he pushed inside, shuddering as she rose up to meet him, taking him deep. “Bloody hell,” he gasped, “you feel so good.”

Emma’s head was spinning, her blood hot in her veins and deafening in her ears. She lifted her knees, digging her heels into his ass. “Killian…” she pleaded.

“Aye.” He grasped her thigh, fingers sinking into her skin as he began to move, hard and steady and so deep, the angle delicious, his chest hair abrading her nipples and his eyes dark with lust and wonder as they gazed into hers. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him down to kiss him, sloppy and desperate and so good, all of it so damned good—her tongue in his mouth and his cock in her cunt and the pressure building low in her belly until he tore his mouth from hers and moaned “I’m so close, Emma, please love—” and then she clenched tight around him and they came together.

Afterwards they lay wrapped tightly around each other long past the time when their breathing had slowed and their heart rates calmed, neither wanting to move. Emma wished they could stay like that forever, enjoying the simple pleasure of their bodies pressed close and their hands free to roam... but try as she might she couldn’t stop her brain from working or hold back the emotion rising up in her chest, such a muddled mess of feelings that she wasn’t even sure what some of them were, only that they were all for Killian and not all were good.

“What happened to you?” she asked, wincing even as she spoke the words.

“What do you mean?” His voice was still heavy and sated and she hated herself for ruining this moment, but she couldn’t feel the way she was starting to feel about him, couldn’t let herself feel it, unless she knew.

“How did you get into—I mean—how did you, um, start doing—well—”

She felt the moment he understood, felt his muscles tense and when he spoke again his voice was hard. “How did I become the criminal I am?”

Emma wished she didn’t feel so much like crying. “You know that’s not how I meant it, Killian.”

“Do I?” He sighed and rolled away, leaving her feeling cold and bereft. “But I suppose it’s a reasonable question for you to ask, given the circumstances.”

The hurt was audible in his voice and yet still he understood. She swallowed hard. “Well, I’m asking.”

He sighed again and ran a hand over his face. “I’m not sure this is a bedroom conversation, love. What do you say to a midnight snack?”

“It’s like eight o’clock.”

“Dinner, then. Let me make you dinner and I’ll tell you everything you wish to know.”

“I told you before, if you remember, that I was in the navy.”

“I remember.”

They were sitting on the floor with their backs against the window seat, eating cold roast potatoes and chicken salad. Emma wore a t-shirt with a blanket tucked around her bare legs and Killian was in his pajama pants and nothing more.

“When I joined up I was sixteen,” he continued.

“So young!”

“The youngest they allowed. There weren’t many career options available where I come from. The navy was one of the few that didn’t involve petty crime and drugs, or higher marks in school than I was able to achieve.”

She stared at him, but he didn’t appear to be joking. “Really?”

“What about that surprises you?”

“Well, it’s just—you’re always reading and you know a lot of annoyingly big words. How did you not do well in school?”

He shrugged. “A lot of factors contributed. My mother was ill for a long time and when she died my father—he didn’t take it well. Let’s just say that my home life wasn’t exactly conducive to studying. The navy was an escape, a way out of that narrow life and an opportunity to see the world. And also where my brother went.”

That definitely surprised her. “You have a brother?”

“Had.”

“Oh.” Fuck. “I’m sorry.”

“Aye, me too.” He smiled, faint but reassuring. “It was a long time ago, love.”

That doesn’t mean you’re over it, Emma thought.

“As I was saying, I joined the navy as soon as I possibly could and, as it so happened, at the same time as Graham.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Which of course you have already deduced. He’d also had a difficult childhood and as you said we bonded. We were assigned to the same ship, the one where my brother was by that time a lieutenant. Graham and I were ratings—grunts, basically—but Liam came to visit us regularly and told us all about life among the officers. Trying to motivate me, you see, to work my way up to that as he had, and I almost did. For the next three years I put everything I had into my job, until finally I earned a place on the officer training course. And then one day my brother was dead.”

“What?” Emma’s eyebrows snapped into a frown. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“But how?”

“That’s what I wanted to know. The navy told me nothing, only that he had been involved in a dangerous mission and he hadn’t survived. But I knew there was more to it than that.”

“What made you think that?”

“Our captain, a man named Silver—”

“Whoa, wait, hold up.” Emma held out her hands. “Captain Silver?”

“Aye, I know,” Killian agreed with a smirk. “Nominative determinism.”

“Nomina-what-what?”

“Nominative determinism,” he repeated. “It’s the idea that people are drawn to professions that are represented or somehow symbolised by their names.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “Like my dentist.”

“What’s your dentist’s name?”

“Dr Whiting.”

He laughed. “A fine example. Anyway, Silver was our captain’s name and he did not appreciate pirate jokes or references to Treasure Island. But even aside from his sad lack of any sense of humour he had always struck me as a man not to be trusted, and after Liam’s death that feeling intensified. I couldn’t shake the suspicion that he knew what had really happened to my brother, and that more than that he was responsible for it.” Killian shook his head, his expression haunted. “Graham told me not to be a fool, that I needed to let it go, but I couldn’t. Liam was all I had left of my family, and I needed to know why he had died.”

“So what did you do?” Emma whispered, her heart aching for him.

“I broke into the captain’s quarters and searched his documents.” The corner of his mouth quirked wryly. “My very first criminal act. I found what I was looking for easily; Silver was such an arrogant bastard he barely even bothered to hide it.”

“What did you find?”

“Evidence that this so-called ‘dangerous mission’ Liam had died on was actually a smuggling run, that Silver had been using his position and his ship to run drugs and other cargo for a client he called Pan.”

Emma gasped, though she wasn’t really surprised. “Our Pan?”

“Aye. As I later discovered.”

“Later?”

“Silver caught me in his quarters and as you might expect he was furious. He had me thrown in the brig and made sure that I carried away no evidence of his wrongdoing. He then saw to it that I was dishonourably discharged from the navy. I tried to fight back, tried to get someone to listen to what I knew about Silver, but no one would believe the word of a disgraced rating over that of a decorated captain, and so with no family and no career and no legal means to avenge my brother I took the only path that remained.”

Sadness twisted into a tight knot in Emma’s chest. “You went to work for Pan,” she said flatly.

Killian nodded. “I did. It was clear that the true responsibility for my brother’s death lay with him; Silver was just a means to his ends. I managed to ingratiate myself into his organisation—it was just getting started then—and when he moved from England to the USA he took me with him. Graham had already moved here, and though he and I weren’t in touch anymore I kept tabs on him and so I knew he’d become a cop, and then a detective. When he started working for the organised crime unit I saw my opportunity and approached him with a proposal. I would lever my position to get him the information he needed to take down Pan and everyone associated with him, in exchange for no charges against me and everything they already had wiped clean.” He looked at her, for the first time since he began speaking about his time with Pan. “But of course that part you already knew.”

“But—” Emma shook her head, her mind whirling. “You were Pan’s most trusted associate. His right hand. For ten years.”

“Aye.”

“And the whole time you were working against him?”

“No, love,” said Killian gently. “Don’t try to make me into something heroic. I did terrible things, things that hurt people. At first because I had to, but later—” He shook his head. “That life, it changes you. And whatever my underlying motivations for getting involved in it may have been, the fact is that I lived it, and though my ultimate goal was to bring Pan down I still participated as fully in his rise as in his fall.”

“You had to,” Emma insisted. “If you hadn’t, you’d never have gotten so close to Pan.”

“That is true, but also I saw no reason not to. I was already compromised, with no chance of ever living a truly respectable life so I thought why the fuck not? Why shouldn’t I make what profits I could for myself? Everyone else was just out for themselves, why shouldn’t I be too?” He clenched his fist against his knee, his voice thick with disgust. “In trying to avenge my brother I turned myself into someone he would have hated,” he spat, “but by the time I truly realised that there was no going back. So I went forward instead, as hard as I could.”

Emma placed her hand over his fist, wishing she had a way to soothe him. “But all that is over,” she said softly. “You have legitimate businesses now. I know because I combed through all of them, trying my best to find something to hang on you and I couldn’t. You’re clean, so why—” She broke off as something flitted across his face, just a twitch of emotion, but enough.

“You’re not clean, are you?” she exclaimed, jerking away from him. He sat motionless, save for the tiniest twitch of his fingers as though to chase her hand. “You’re still doing something illegal. What is it?”

He didn’t look at her. “As I told you before, it’s none of your concern.”

“But why?” she cried on a sudden surge of frustrated anger. “Why, when you don’t have to?”

“Stop it, Swan.”

“But—”

“No!” He pushed up from the floor and began to pace, tugging at his hair. “You’re trying to make me out to be someone I’m not. I am exactly who and what you thought I was on the night we first met. That is who I am.”

“But it’s not who you have to be! Killian, I’m not some silly girl who believes in romantic daydreams, and I’m not trying to whitewash you just because we’ve had sex. But you are not the person I thought you were when we met, not even close. No matter what you’ve done. And you do not have to be what you were.”

“I can’t just change—”

“I’m not suggesting that. You just have to be yourself. This version of you, the one who saved my life at huge risk to his own and brought me here to the one place he feels truly comfortable.” Emma’s voice broke. “ The man who lives in this cabin deserves respect, Killian. He deserves to live in a way he can feel proud of.”

He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, and shook his head. “Emma, please,” he whispered, “don’t. Don’t do this. I can’t—I’m not who you think and I can’t be what you nee—” He broke off, staring at her with such aching regret that she could feel it, sinking into her chest and breaking her heart. Then he turned away. “I’m going to bed.”

Emma sat for a long time after the door had shut behind him, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs and her chin on her knees, trying to sort through her feelings.

She should be furious. That was the thought she kept coming back to. She should be furious with Killian and the fact that he was still breaking the law despite the second chance he’d been given. He had shown himself to be the kind of person she hated most in the world—one who did harm to others and faced no consequences for it. He should be in jail for the things he’d done, things he had all but admitted he was still doing, but he wasn’t, and he was smart enough to ensure that he never would be. She should hate him. It was clear he expected her to.

Instead she went into the bedroom and crawled into bed beside him, snuggling against his back and wrapping him tight in her arms. He drew in his breath sharply and his muscles tensed beneath her fingers.

“What are you doing?” he asked warily as she nuzzled his neck. “Emma—”

“Shhh.”

She kissed a trail over his shoulder and down his arm, slipping beneath it to kiss back up his chest, encouraged when his hand stroked down her side and clenched around her hip. She kissed his jaw then cupped it in her hand and kissed his lips, pressing closer when he didn’t respond, until with a groan he opened his mouth under hers. His arms closed around her, his hand sliding up her back and into her hair as he licked deep into her mouth, kissing her like he couldn’t get enough, like he could kiss her for the rest of his days and it would still never be anywhere near enough.

He rolled her onto her back and she went gladly, humming in approval as he nestled between her legs, rolling his hips against her so she could feel his hardening erection. She spread her legs wider and he growled deep in his throat, pulling back to stare at her with eyes dazed with lust and wonder.

“Emma—” he whispered, but she shook her head.

“No. Please, I just—” She wanted to give him more than sex but words were hard for her and her feelings still so confused. “I need this,” she whispered, silently begging him to understand. “We need this.”

He stared at her for a long moment then nodded. “Aye, love. As you wish.”

They removed their clothes quickly then came back together, skin on skin this time and with no hesitation. He kissed her lips and her neck and her breasts, down her belly and over her mound where he kissed deep, licking her to within a whisper of completion then pulling back to hook her leg around his waist and thrust deep inside her.

She was near to sobbing, clutching at the bedsheets and at him, rocking up to meet him and begging brokenly for more and harder and oh fuck yes just there, like that until she came with a hoarse cry and he buried his face in her neck, trembling in her arms as he followed.

They held each other close for a long moment that still felt far too short and then he wordlessly pulled away, going into the bathroom and returning with a damp cloth to clean them both up. She took care of herself and then of him, then took the cloth back to the bathroom where she peed and washed her hands, then stared hard at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, waiting for the regret that she should surely already be feeling.

It didn’t come.

When she returned to the bedroom Killian was beneath the blankets again. He lifted them for her in a wordless offer that she accepted gratefully, snuggling into his arms and sighing against his shoulder.

He looked down at her and their eyes met, silently communicating what they couldn’t speak. Emma’s heart ached but Killian smiled, a sad smile but resolute.

“Go to sleep, love,” he said.

She nodded, snuggling closer, closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.

She was awoken by the shrill ringing of a telephone, and by Killian shifting, reaching over her to open a drawer in her bedside table and withdraw the satellite phone.

“Hello,” he said, his voice rough. “Yes, you bloody did wake me, it’s—oh. Later than I thought… Aye, well I trust you have news to make it worth my while… Ah… Hmm… I see… Yes, thank you, I’ll tell her.”

He hung up the phone and looked at Emma, his eyes unreadable. “That was Graham. They’ve arrested Gold. It’s time for us to go home.”

–

@thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @kmomof4 @mariakov81 @katie-dub @spartanguard @darkcolinodonorgasm@courtorderedcake @squidvisious @cluttermind @teamhook @lfh1226-linda @shireness-says @stahlop

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #captain swan fic #smut #smut and feelings #a bit angsty #still sharing that bed #alone together #the bend of the arc #profdanglaisstuff

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bird-in-a-cage · 4 years ago

Note

#42 from the prompt list... I mean I'm sorry but... I NEED TO SEE THAT.

Wow, am I sorry this took so long! This was a tough prompt but, thanks to @cockasinthebird for being a wonderful human being, we got through it. So I hope this was worth the wait!

Prompt list is here if anyone wants to throw a prompt at me!

#42: “I didn’t say “sex party” as in orgy. I said “hex party” as in witches.”

So far, college had been okay. It was as hard and challenging as Steve had expected, but he was getting on almost well. He had to spend a lot of time studying in the library, reading and re-reading source materials, typing, editing, deleting and starting all over again with essays and assignments sure. But it was different from high school, on a deep level he wanted to be here, amongst the old stone buildings that either held no heat at all or far too much depending on the weather outside, surrounded by people who also shared a passion for learning. It was different to focus on what he wanted to learn instead of just having to cram a little bit of everything into his brain everyday.

Turns out, if he was just allowed to go a little slower and take his time, he wasn’t as dumb as everyone back home at thought.

He’d gotten into college by the skin of his teeth, pulling far too many all nighters and living off five hour energy to drag his grades up when it was almost too late, pulling in every favour he had to retake anything below a C with nothing but a prayer and a pleading smile, somehow managing to not go completely insane in the process. Getting a 3 point grade average at graduation had been nothing short of a miracle. He wanted to say his parents had nothing to do with his acceptance into quite a nice school, but in reality Steve knew they probably greased a palm or two. Maybe helped pay for the new set of band uniforms that were recently unveiled.

The college itself was beautiful. Steve had fallen for it on his first visit. Old stone buildings, a large green campus area, a good surrounding community, regular activities and groups to go meet up with and try different things with now he was getting out of small town Hawkins and away from being stuck in what he knew.

There was something a bit…odd about the college though. Steve would be sat in the library, for example, finishing up a comparison piece when he would hear the telltale low battery beep from his headphones. He always forgot to bring a charger. He knew it was on his nightstand back in the dorm room, wrapped around the drawer handle so he wouldn’t forget to lift it this time, so it was pointless checking his bag for it. He would go to pack his things away, open up his slouchy backpack and there it would be, his exact one because he’d wrapped a piece of green tape around it when his roommate kept stealing it and swearing blind he hadn’t, laying curled around his water bottle..

That wasn’t the only example though. Things would just appear when he was looking for them. Books he needed from a completely different section would just happen to be on the shelf he was currently looking at. If a flavour of soda was sold out at a vending machine, he would pick another, but the one he originally wanted would tumble out, ice cold and somehow impossibly refreshing. None of them were a major inconvenience by far, but it was just odd.

The only small downside to the college of his dreams is that he forgot to investigate anything about the fraternities and sororities. Steve didn’t really have any desire to be in any frat even if offered, they were just houses for boys to pretend not to be at least a little bicurious as they bumped into each other all sweaty playing sports, using basketball as an excuse to touch each other’s muscles. Flat out no homo-ing each other. Steve was out and proud at college, didn’t need an excuse anymore other than “you’re hot, you wanna?”. The days of bi-panic and needing a thinly veiled excuse such as helping someone he thought was cute off the ground in the middle of a match were long gone. Steve had been to a couple of frat parties, naturally, everyone did. They were kinda fun if you hung around outside away from the thick, choking air of sexual tension that was threatening to bubble over at any minute.

Everyone knew frat houses were just potential orgy dens, right?

There was one frat house though, just off campus and to the right a little, that gave off a weird vibe. The Omega House. It didn’t look that special, had dark grey panelling on the outside, windows trimmed in white, the omega symbol on the outer wall above the door painted in silver that reflected the sunlight and looked almost like real silver. Like the college itself, it was just odd. As far as Steve could tell it didn’t have many members, only four, as far as he’d counted, would walk around in blazing orange letterman jackets with that emblem stitched into the back and a smaller one on the front right breast. He didn’t know what majors they took, probably all on sports scholarships with how stacked a couple of them looked, and one liked to hang around the library. Always in sunglasses even indoors, tight jeans to combat the slightly too big jacket. Blonde hair shaved at the sides but longer on top, not wildly long but just enough for natural loose curls to develop.

Not that Steve had been looking at how handsome he was at all.

Thinking about it, he seemed to always be around when the odd things happened. When there would suddenly be a spare chair even though all the tables were packed with other students trying to do their work, a fresh stack of post it notes in Steve’s bag when he needed to write an annotation down quickly, a newly sharpened pencil just happening to be on the floor by his feet when he’d lost his before class. The rain suddenly starting as soon as Steve got into a building when he’d forgotten an umbrella like it was waiting for him to be safe and dry.

There was just something weird about the whole thing. Not enough for him to freak out and want to go home though, no way. He could deal with weird and slightly odd far better than being stuck in a town going nowhere, where his only future was getting a job in his father’s company and a wife he didn’t love, cranking out a couple kids after a year of so and slowly but surely morphing into a mirror image of the man he lowkey despised.

Even the thought of that was horrifying. It was bad enough that genetically they might look similar one day. Hopefully many, many years in the future. When plastic surgery was cheap.

The library was quiet when Steve entered. Of course it was, it was a Friday night. There were a number of parties and gatherings happening all over the place, but this week he’d promised himself to be good. Study now and party later. He’d been invited to a glow paint, totally-not-a-rave party happening just outside of town that he was pretty excited for. He’d been focusing hard on his studies so it was time to let off some steam. And maybe that steam had been building for quite some time cause ol’ Lefty wasn’t doing the trick anymore, mashing his face into a pillow in the dead of night, furiously jacking off under a blanket and praying his roommate didn’t wake up or come back soon. And, maybe sometimes, Steve thought about that cute blonde in the Omega House jacket and how good it would be to see those thick lips all slick and swollen wrapped around his cock. Really those thoughts were just between him and God, who he hoped wasn’t paying attention most of the time he was alone in his room.

Steve found the spot he liked, towards the back facing towards the window where he couldn’t be distracted by people walking in, and pulled his laptop and the well annotated copy of Dracula he was working from. His half finished essay sat on the screen, cursor blinking at him accusingly, demandingly even. He sighed at it and opened up to the page he was last working from when the chair next to him was pulled out. Not even one or two over, obeying the unspoken rule of the Personal Study Bubble. No, the very next chair. Steve could see orange reflected on his screen. He frowned slightly and turned to just give a passing glance, hoping for a the fuck? expression, when he saw staggeringly blue eyes staring back, nestled into tan freckled skin, natural curls just reaching down into the field of view. The regular sunglasses had been tucked up into the neck of a black tee. The back of Steve’s neck felt instantly hot as he looked away, hoping for a moment he hadn’t been seen, but that was impossible. He was right there.

“Hey, haven’t seen you around before. Must be in the same class though.” His voice was deep and Steve felt his legs turn a little bit to jello. He chanced another glance and saw the guy was holding a copy of Dracula too. Steve wasn’t sure he’d been holding it before…

“Well, I attend almost every lecture…”

“You must do if you’re in here by yourself on a Friday,” the guy smiled. It didn’t look cruel, neither did it sound like he was making fun. This was already confusing, and Steve wasn’t the greatest with people at the best of times, let alone he around guys he thought were kind of stupidly handsome from afar, and apparently just stunning close up.

Steve just nodded and shifted in his seat slightly since this guy clearly wasn’t going to go away any time soon. He didn’t have anything on the table in front of him, didn’t even look like he had a backpack for the potential of anything. The odd feeling was definitely strong and getting stronger. “Can I… can I help you with something?”

“That depends,” the book was quickly tossed aside and the guy nudged closer with his chair, Steve could smell his cologne. It didn’t smell like anything he’d tried before. It was floral but dark and spicy, but also fruity too. Slightly burnt lemon and vanilla loaf? His hand wrapped easily around Steve’s freer one. His skin was warm, a little rough maybe from weightlifting which he clearly did, applying a comforting amount of pressure. Steve couldn’t help the skin on his arm breaking out in goose pimples. He glanced at their hands together and his throat felt impossibly tight. “I’m Billy by the way.”

“Steve...”

“Great. So, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but things can be a little, strange around here-”

Steve glanced at their hands again, felt that blue steel bore into his eyes and further back. “Oh they’re strange alright…”

“You ever wondered why?” This guy, Billy, grinned something devilish and let Steve’s hand go only to put it on his knee, squeezing firm but not unpleasant. Steve was sure he was starting to sweat under the attention of all this. Yeah he had fooled around with a couple guys drunk at parties, stumbled into a dorm room or two he didn’t recognise to have some fun and wake up with carpet burns over his back and his knees, but this felt very direct. Especially when Billy’s hand started slowly drifting higher. Steve couldn’t even say he didn’t want it, he’d been staring at this guy from a distance for months now, but to have him suddenly be right in front and touching with obvious intent. It was something else.

“Uh, n-not really. Sometimes maybe?”

Billy’s eyes turned from cool to blazingly erotic in an instant, for just a moment, then back to cool again. He nudged even closer into Steve’s bubble, who was more helpless than a fish on dry land at this moment.

“Would you like to know why?” The way Billy’s tongue licked over the L was something filthy. If Steve had been set jello before he was now quickly melting into a sweet pool of tangy cherry. “My friends and I can show you.”

Steve felt like he was drowning. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be happening. But still BIlly’s firm hand crept ever higher until he was practically cupping Steve through his jeans, inching closer until their lips were connected in the middle of the library. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed. He was already boiling alive in his skin from all the attention and Billy’s lips weren’t helping. They were as plush as Steve had imagined. Maybe not in the right area just yet but with the way Billy was pushing his palm directly against Steve’s slowly awakening dick they just might be soon.

He was half hard when Billy pulled away, flushed bright red like he’d been sunburnt.

“Come by the house tomorrow night, you’ll see. We promise you’ll enjoy it.”

With that, Billy winked, slipped his sunglasses back on and left. Steve blinked at nothing for a long time, trying to piece together what the hell had just happened to him.

Did… did he just get invited to an orgy?

He packed up quickly and went back to his dorm, there was no way any studying was going to happen now. It didn’t happen throughout all of Saturday either. Just the memory of the whole short incident rolling around and around in Steve’s mind, of Billy’s words dripping from those lips and the feel of his hand pressing just right.

He’d definitely gotten invited to an orgy.

He lay on his bed for a while just thinking, tapping his forefingers together as something for them to do. Steve was kind of flattered really, he knew he was nice looking, but there were far better looking guys on campus, and from the stories he’d heard they’d probably be up for it no questions asked. It also popped into his head that the guys he’d seen wearing the orange Omega jackets were a lot more jacked than he was, and Steve had seen enough porn to know what that probably meant. A part of him knew this was utterly insane. Shit like this didn’t happen without a bored camera crew and fourteen different close up angles.

But then maybe it did happen. He was from a small town after all. He was pretty sure his neighbours three doors down were swingers from all the cars that would suddenly appear once a month for just a night. Least that was the rumor that he may or may not have pushed a couple times. And, afterall, wasn’t this what college was about? Being out there and experimenting with crazy shit you wouldn’t do in the real world. He’d taken ecstasy in his first few weeks at a warehouse party, he had no desire to do that back home.

So, maybe he was warming up to the idea of being a bottom at an orgy party being held in the weird grey frat house. Who was anyone to judge? Steve just wasn’t going to tell anyone about it, that’s all.

He felt nervous standing on the front steps of the Omega House. All the blinds were drawn inside. He didn’t know what to bring, what was customary? It didn’t feel right to bring, like, snacks, so he’d just brought himself, already flushing and trying not to get hard by just the thought of Billy getting his hands on him again, how good he must look naked and sweating, finding out what those lips could really do.

The man himself answered the door after two sharp knocks. The grin he wore was sinful, eyes wild and excited, grip firm as he pulled Steve easily inside the dark room. Steve wasn’t sure what to expect, but low mood lighting, a coffee table in the middle of three couches covered in books and blank papers, and every other surface holding up thick lit candles dripping with wax wasn’t it. It also appeared to be just the two of them.

It wasn’t entirely what he had signed up for. But Steve wasn’t exactly complaining.

“Man, am I happy you actually came,” Billy started, pulling his letterman off and hanging it over the banister like a coat hook. His black tee had the sleeves ripped off, his arms were nothing short of statue worthy. He ruffled his hair a little, the curls bobbing just so. They looked delightfully soft. “The rest of the guys are at some sorority bullshit, but they’ll be here later.”

“Uh, o-okay, cool.” Steve tried to sound confident as he went to go take a seat on one of the couches. Billy sat next to him, up close and personal again and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He was radiating body heat which Steve wanted to eat up greedily. He noticed some of the books on the table. A copy of Frankenstein, a very old looking copy of Dracula, maybe second edition, a copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, and copies of both Malleus Maleficarum and A Guide to Modern Witchcraft. Those titles mixed with all the candles and the mood lighting and Billy’s staring and frankly demonic grin led Steve down the path that seemed the most obvious to him.

This was a sex cult house. And it was about to get all Rosemary’s Baby up in here.

Billy’s hand was back on his thigh again, heavy and pressing, taking Steve out of his deep barrel of thoughts. The grin was back on his tanned features. “You look nervous.” He gave Steve’s thigh a squeeze. Even though he had no idea what was going on it still made his cock jump alert in his jeans.

“Well, I’ve never exactly been to… one of these before…”

Billy’s eyebrows furrowed together a little, he still wore a smile though. It suited his face. “One of what?”

“You know...?” Steve rolled his hands as his face turned ever redder. He was sure it could almost be seen from space. He wasn’t a prude by any means, but growing up in quite a strict household meant he just struggled saying some things out loud. So he whispered it instead. “...an orgy?”

Billy stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter that wasn’t at all humiliating. He must have sensed Steve’s rapidly growing discomfort and indignity because the laughter quickly died and turned more into gentle questioning. “Did you think that was what this was gonna be?”

“Well I don’t know what else this would be!” Steve spat out in frustration. He hated not knowing the whole story and here he felt he barely even knew the first line of the novel. Billy smiled warm like a summer day and cupped his cheek. He felt instantly calmed, being swallowed up by those cool blues like a gentle river on an August afternoon. “I said I’d explain about all the odd things that happen around campus. They’re from us in this house. We’re kind of, different.”

“Different how?”

Billy took his hand back and snapped his fingers loud and piercing. All the candles extinguished themselves at once. Not a breeze to be felt. It wasn’t scary, or spooky, but it was pretty cool. “Different different. You’re the only person who’s seemed to notice. And, by house law, that means you get initiated. You get to know that we’re all witches.”

The word hung in the air and seemed ridiculous. But, at the same time, it didn’t. It did certainly explain how chargers and post its and pencils would suddenly just appear whenever Steve needed them. He still wasn’t completely convinced though.

“Witches?” He repeated back carefully, just in case he’d heard that wrong too. Billy nodded and clapped his hands. Every candle reignited themselves, flickering back to life one by one in a circle around the room. A bottle of whiskey and cans of coke appeared on the table where there had been just papers before. The books remained. There was a proud look on his face. Short of being drugged at the door and this all being a crazy fever dream, this was definitely real. Steve didn’t really have any reason to not believe his eyes and what was happening around him. Billy didn’t look like David Copperfield that was for sure. “So, not an orgy?”

“No. Not an orgy.” Billy chuckled and repeated back. He must have seen Steve’s face go from confused to understanding to a little disappointed all within the space of a few seconds because his hand was high on Steve’s thigh again. Maybe the guy just didn’t understand personal space? That seemed growingly likely. “I don’t think I’d wanna share you anyway.”

Steve felt the flush on his face again, but he grinned through it this time. Weird, spooky, otherworldly shit could be saved for later if there was even a chance of getting what he’d been thinking alone in his bed. “But you’d wanna maybe...?”

He let the question stay floating between them as Billy smirked lewd and pressed himself up against Steve’s body. “Bet you’d love to find out what I can do with my fingers pretty boy…”

Oh, Steve really would.

#prompt list #my writings #harringrove #billy x steve #steve harrington #billy hargrove #college au #was probably about time i did one huh?#sorry i couldn't get the line in exactly but i hope this is still okay

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paellaplease · 4 years ago

Text

Firebird | Chap.7

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

I’m back!

Chapter 7: Of Monsters and Metals Part 2.

...but by the restless heart that refuses to falter.

Contrary to popular belief, whilst she was well accustomed to it, years of sweaty work hadn’t endeared her to the less glamorous aspects of working in a forge. It was hot, and oftentimes stuffy, making water breaks important as the hours passed on and her arms began to tire. Working through the summer was unbearable, with no amount of mountain air able to cool the uncomfortable redness on her face and arms.

Whilst Teacher could walk around the forge like it was her second home, it took months of discipline for Maiya to tolerate the place. How ironic that it seemed to follow her everywhere like a rope tightly wrapped around her wrist.

Shifting in her seat, she was thankful that the constant exchange of air above Jackdaws had rid the forge of the usual sulfurous stench of burning coal. This quiet, unassuming workshop kept close between Wayra’s rock and stone, like a beating heart beneath living flesh.

....But of course it would take a miracle to completely filter out the unmistakable burning smell of hot steel and the lingering taste of metal on her tongue.

A small drop of sweat rolled down the back of her neck. If I close my eyes, she mused, it would be like I never left home. Her head lolled forward, the previous hour’s excitement catching up to her. It wasn’t everyday a Rito takes you flying.

She was sinking in her seat, a single voice one of the only things standing in the way between her and an impromptu nap.

“…almost impenetrable rock like bodies completely covered in ice! I have heard with enough prolonged contact they could also freeze exposed flesh in seconds. It’s incredible...”

Oh. Right.

It took all her might to peel her eyelids back open. Of all the challenges she was bracing herself to encounter from Rito Village, she didn’t expect ‘being lectured again in another forge’ to be one of them.

Yep, definitely just like home.

In the reddish glow of the forge, Uleh gesticulated with a graceful turn of a poised hand. The Zora appeared fresher than a daisy, a completed sword blade resting on the anvil next to them, gleaming almost as bright as their teeth. Where they got all their energy from after what would have been hours of gruelling work was one of the many greater mysteries of Hyrule.

They spoke words that, whilst probably important, unfortunately fell on deaf ears as the Enchanter dozed off. The heaviness of her eyes continued to fight her as they settled on a rough sketch of the monster. Drawn in haste, it appeared to be one big blob with two smaller blobs attached at its sides to act like its appendages. It was a literal rock. A giant, dangerous rock. Larger than a house, the Zora had said. She briefly wondered if Uleh was having her on.

Guess so long as we don’t get within arms reach it should be fine.

“I suppose we’re not befriending the Talus and escorting it back home?” An exasperated voice called from a corner of the room. Maiya leaned her head back, her brain supplying an upside-down image of Revali testing the balance of a Falchion on one of his wings.

“Unfortunately not, but how uncharacteristically nice of you, Master Revali." The Zora replied, evidently unbothered by the archer’s sarcasm. Propping their head up with a hand, their smile was natural. Easy. "Making friends with monsters? We should table it for a later venture.”

The blue Rito opened his beak to protest, but was cut-off again by the Zora’s ringing laugh. “Ahah, you may be onto something though. Managing to form a positive connection would make your jobs easier. I mean, since you’re getting up close and personal anyway.”

“Hmmm...yeah.” Maiya sat up and stretched.

A beat passed as her brain finally decided to process the last sentence. “Wait.”

“Not to worry. It shouldn’t be too difficult.” Uleh said, totally misreading her panic. They tapped the side of their skull for emphasis. “The ingredient should be in the ore poking out of its crown. You can’t miss it. It’s usually right at the top of its head.”

Years of accumulated dust motes floated into the air as the Hylian slammed both her hands onto the aged writing desk. She gripped the edges in shock, the hardwood creaking. “Sorry.” A breath. “Can you run that by me again? Starting at the part where you said this wouldn’t be difficult.”

Uleh caught the tipping candle-holder before it fell, saving their map from going up in flames. They tilted their head down to look at her, wide-eyed confusion making her feel a little guilty. “Forgive me Miss Enchanter, had I said something wrong?”

“No.” She huffed, refusing the need to anxiety-pace around the room. “I mean yes. It’s just...” It was ridiculous. This is crazy. “You’re saying that the ingredient is found on a sentient boulder that wants to kill me.”

Adopting the countenance of a wise sage imparting worldly knowledge onto their pupil, the Zora clasped their hands and set them gently on the shaking table. "Not quite a boulder. Picture it more as a hulking, moving, ah... mini mountain. Encased in ice.”

"And it wants to kill me."

"And it wants to kill you, yes.”

This was bad. She should say something. She could feel Revali’s eyes piercing into her back. Goddesses, Maiya. Get a grip!

Was talking to the Blacksmith really worth the risk of getting hurt? Forging swords, setting traps, and being semi-decent with her throwing knives for self-defence were nowhere near enough to qualify her as a monster-hunter. A rabbit, fine. But a rock monster more than quadruple her size? I must be delusional.

She scrubbed her face wearily. “What makes you think this is a good idea?”

“Well, I’m speaking to one of the last known Enchanters of Hyrule and the Pride of the Rito. Why, it should be a doddle with two living legends on the case.”

The two responses from said Enchanter and Rito came at the same time:

“I’m not a legend.”

“Pah, naturally.”

Maiya inhaled deeply. “Why don’t you help us fight it, then? Three against one would mean surefire success.”

The furnace behind them crackled, sending sparks into the air. It illuminated the iridescent shine of the zora’s scales, their many jewels glinting in the gloomy atmosphere of the forge. It was a little funny. In contrast to their surroundings, they looked like an angel who had wandered into the wrong afterlife.

Uleh mulled over her question, idly spinning the charcoal in their hand. Whilst their smile remained, there was a tenseness that wasn't present before. After a minute, they finally regarded her, golden eyes far away as they cleared their throat to reply. “It’s because—

A disgruntled sigh interrupted them. “Honestly, enchanter. Must I throw the rulebook at you? It’s rather shameless really, asking the other party to help fulfill your part of the agreement.”

Maiya whipped her head around, leaning back so fast her chair nearly tipped over. “Lecturing me on manners now? That’s rich coming from you, Rito.”

“Why, I don’t understand your meaning. I’ve been nothing but a gentleman this entire time.”

Running a hand through her unruly hair, she would have marched directly up to him to give him a piece of her mind if it wasn’t for Uleh holding her back. She whipped around to look at them, realizing she’d forgot to drop her glare when they nervously coughed and released their hold on her shoulder.

“Ah, um.” They idly ran a claw down the silver chain decorating the two flat fins that hung on the sides of their head like hair. “I’m sorry for interrupting whatever’s going on here. You’re both right, in a way. It’s logical that the chances of success would increase with extra hands. In fact, if I could lend you my aid I would, but…”

Shrinking back, they went quiet again, words bashful and barely audible. “I’m no good in a fight.”

Maiya stared at them quizzically. Growing up with Teacher had its many challenges. For one, the Sheikah could read most people with ease, be it a guilty child who had just scribbled on a newly painted white wall or even a fully grown, extremely stoic adult trying to cheat her out of what should be reasonably priced eggs. For a young Maiya, it made stretching the truth risky, and lying to her mentor out of the question.

Whilst she was no expert in body-language, spending most of her teenage years under her mentor’s watchful eye had taught her a few things about common tells. Maybe it was in the way the Zora’s golden eyes lost their gleam? Or in their sudden shyness. Either way, whilst they may have been sincere for most of the conversation previously, Uleh in that moment wasn’t telling the full truth.

She pressed the bottom of her palm to the aching spot above her brow. This was getting too complicated. Her chest ached from the stress. She winced when the rune bit at her skin. The pulse at her wrist felt strong under her fingers, beating out a warning call.

We’re wasting time. So what if they’re lying? Anything for Enchanting, right? Wasn't that the goal? To further or find what was lost whatever the price?

There was no point in turning back now. Pressing the issue wouldn’t change the fact that it would just be her, Revali, and this Talus tomorrow. If she wanted to meet the Blacksmith and actually have him listen to her demands, then this seems like the most direct option available. Beggars can’t be choosers, she already failed in uniting the Enchanted dagger with an owner. Teacher would never forgive her for letting go of a lead like this.

“Alright. Deal still stands.” She decided.

Standing up, Uleh raised their hands to the ceiling to stretch, the relaxed grin they had before returning to their face in full force. They leaned over the table, annotating a place in the map marking ‘West Rospro Pass’ before rolling it up and sealing it with a clip. “Well then, time and tide wait for no one.”

Maiya reached her hand out, jumping when a blue wing beat her to it, swiftly taking the map from the Zora’s hands.

Beside her, Revali rolled his shoulders. Seeing her annoyed expression, he lightly tapped the map on the top of her head, his feathers puffing up at his excitement to leave this hellish hot-box. “Careful, Hylian. Your face will get stuck if you keep frowning like that forever.” He said, poking her cheek with a pointed feather.

She couldn’t help the surprised squeak that escaped her mouth, Revali’s smirk growing even wider.

The fact that the feather pressed to her face was unbelievably soft pissed her off even moreso. She quickly swatted him away, face warming. “Buzz off,” she groused.

The Rito chuckled, but complied, withdrawing his wing to haughtily cross it with the other against his chest. “Tomorrow you’ll have front row seats to watch a true Master at work.”

The silence that followed made him sigh. He looked at her pointedly. “Would it kill you to be a bit more lively?”

“Yipee...”

“Amazing. Your sincere exuberance is truly heart-warming.”

She rolled her brown eyes as Uleh gave them both a thumbs up. The Zora's laughter, like chiming bells, filling the dark forge. It was infectious, and she couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile in return.

Perhaps tomorrow wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

Birdsong greeted Maiya as the night sky slowly brightened into a lavender hue, the first signs of dawn peaking over the horizon. She tiptoed down the outer staircase of Swallow’s Roost, careful not to wake the travellers who rested peacefully on the other side of the wall.

She rubbed her eyes, fighting back a yawn. Wisps of smoke left the tops of chimneys, chefs and bakers preparing their iron cook pots for another working day of feeding an entire village and more. A gust of wind brought the scent of charcoal and firewood, acidic and earthy...

— Fire. Burning. Melting feathers and flesh. An arrow piercing skin and muscle—

The Enchanter pressed her knuckles into her temples, attempting to relieve the pressure forcing her head to burst. Another night, another terrible sleep in Tabantha. She knew this wasn’t normal; these night terrors. Her bones ached from hours of tossing and turning, waking up in a cold sweat and forcing herself to relax, only to be met with the same dream once again. Perhaps when all of this was over, a visit to the village healer would be a good idea.

However, against her better judgement, there was something invigorating about the new day. This was crazy; mad! Teacher would never have allowed it had she been in the same room when the decision was made. And perhaps that was exactly why her stomach felt like it was doing dumb, excited flips, her mouth turning up at the edges.

This was her chance to prove herself, show her mentor how dedicated she was to the cause and her studies. It was a little unorthodox, but she was sure Teacher would understand once she comes home with new information. In fact, she could omit most of the details from the letter anyway and leave in the non-life threatening bits that won’t cause any alarm.

She nodded to herself, hands tightening around a relatively empty backpack. She patted down her front and sides to check that she had what she needed. Throwing knives, waterskin, materials for basic first-aid, and a hammer and chisel from Uleh to help her collect the ore pieces later.

“That’s everything, I think. As well as…”

Her fingers froze as they brushed the raised embellishments on the enchanted dagger’s hilt, reality running up to slap her in the face. Hands curling around it, she felt a torrent of shame wash over her. What was she doing? This wasn’t the time to act like an overexcited child. This was serious, so much was riding on her getting this right. And her mentor wouldn’t be happy if she were to fail. Wait. Her stomach dropped. What if I do fail?

What then? She wondered. Would she even be alive to report the bad news?

Sighing, she forced her hand away from the dagger, turning to look beyond the railing and into the world beyond. If anything, at least it was a beautiful morning.

A voice appeared to her right. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Hylia’s left tit— ! Cheska!” She all but screamed, grabbing the railing in a death grip.

The innkeeper tipped her head inquisitively when a brief spark of blue flashed in her eyes.

“Uh!! Hello!” Maiya floundered. She hid her hand behind her back, feeling sweat build on her brow when Cheska’s eyes followed the action. “G-good morning. If this is about the late dinner you brought up last night, thank you so much! It was really, really good.”

She swallowed her spit, her nervousness still bubbling. “Not to say that your food isn’t always good. It’s just that I rarely eat fish. Not to say fish isn’t delicious. It’s just that where I live in Akkala we’re not really close to the sea so— ”

“Hylianlla! Slow-down.” The Rito laughed. “Jeez you are jumpy today. Take a deep breath. That’s it. In and out. Before the wind snatches it away— ah, I sound like my mother."

Cheska smiled warmly. Her rounded golden earrings reminded Maiya of two small suns, catching the light as she idly transferred the small paper package she held from one wing to another. “No worries, silly chickie. I’m always happy to feed a hungry traveller.”

The Hylian nodded, taking this as a sign that the conversation was over. She stepped to the side, moving to shuffle around the innkeeper, only for the Rito to block her path once again.

“However!” Her eyes sparkled. Maiya had a bad feeling about this. “What have you been up to yesterday that led to being dropped off by a mysterious and handsome blue-feathered stranger with the famous Great Eagle Bow?”

The Enchanter made a face. She was not mentally prepared to be having this conversation. “I can confirm that it’s not whatever you’re cooking up in that head of yours— and please stop wiggling your eyebrows!”

In an effort to distract herself from the blush that was snaking up her neck, her eyes strayed to the pink and orange sunrise above them, the clouds moving across the sky like white rolling waves. “As to what I’ve been doing. Well...not much really. Read a few books at the Archive. Got a tour of the village. Had a fight with the local blacksmith that led to striking a deal with the Zora that lives in the depths of the ancient rock supporting all of us right now.” She cringed at how crazy it sounded. “Did you know that by the way?"

“Uleh? Duh, they pass by from time to time.” She idly brushed a wing down one of her earrings. “We have the best chats. But tell me more about this tour!”

Despite the stress weighing on her mind, the Enchanter laughed, digging her hands in her pockets. “Of all the things...judging from your description I think you already know who this mysterious stranger is. Wouldn’t recommend it, but he’s all yours.”

“He’s all…” Cheska paused, voice breaking. She stood still, expression rapidly switching from confusion, realisation, to deep and feather-raising mortification.

Tilting forward, she began to giggle. Maiya stepped back in surprise, watching it transition into full blown laughter. “Uh, Cheska?”

The Rito doubled over and slapped a wing over her beak. “Revali?! Ha HA! Qoyllur-cha?” She sucked in a shaky breath, before dissolving into peals of incredulous laughter once again. “Heck no, amiha. I’m sure Mr. Grumpy is well and truly enamored with himself anyway.” The innkeeper wiped a tear from her eye. “Ah, Blessed Nayru. You’re a hoot!”

“Right,” Maiya said slowly, cheeks reddening at her social blunder. “Are you finished yet?”

“Yes,” the Rito snorted. “Okay I’m done. For real. I’m sorry!”

Forcing herself to keep a straight-face, Cheska shook her head, composing herself. “Goddesses. You just caught me by surprise is all. I’m recovering after an old friend showed up to the village yesterday. Big fiesta, great fun even though I couldn’t stay too long.

Jini brought out the good pisco this time.”

She smiled at Maiya’s blank expression, unperturbed by the lack of an equally excited response. Stepping back, she offered the Hylian the package she’d been holding on to. “Anyway, on a completely unrelated note, that mysterious blue Rito stopped by to leave this for you before dawn this morning.”

The Enchanter looked at the brown-paper package. She wondered if it was a good time to open it, but could feel Cheska’s poorly hidden curiosity bearing down on her. Might as well. Without much hesitation, she pulled on the thin rope holding it together.

A piece of cloth fell into her waiting hand.

It was a bandana. Dyed an azure blue, it reminded her of clear summer skies and the blue nightshades that glowed in her mentor’s study. Running her thumb over the soft fabric, she found that whilst it was simple and unpatterned, it was soft and very well-made. Unfolding it, a delicate piece of paper fell out, fluttering to the floor before she caught it.

She smiled, wondering if this was the prideful Rito’s version of an apology. Unbeknownst to her, her heart warmed at the thought.

Maiya quickly read the note:

So your haphazard hair doesn’t endanger us today - Revali.

The Hylian scowled, crumpling the message and stuffing it in her pocket. “Why am I so surprised?” She muttered. Despite her ire, she delicately smoothed out the blue bandana in her hand, pulling it around her hair and knotting it with irate conviction.

Saying a quick “Thank you and Good Morning” to the innkeeper, she began to angrily brisk walk up the village stairs.

Cheska waved her goodbye. “And where are you off to now, hylianlla?”

“I’m going to fight a Frost Talus.” She called over her shoulder casually.

“You’re what?!”

“Bye, Cheska!”

Revali was already waiting for her at the top of the stairs. He tapped his talons on the ground, leaning impatiently against the archway. The armour he had on the day they first met was fitted securely around his form, slightly hidden away by a flowing white scarf wrapped snug around his neck.

His back was to the sun, making it necessary for her to shield her eyes as she approached. Whilst there was no royalty amongst the Rito, he looked every bit like an irritable prince as light streamed from the heavens behind him.

His honeyed, infuriating voice called out to her as soon as he saw her hand leave the banister.

“You’re late.”

Maiya wordlessly tossed an object at him, the Rito Warrior snatching it from the air with ease. He looked down at the warm pastry that nearly hit him in the face, its icing topping and cinnamon scent unmistakeable. “A sweetroll?”

“Breakfast.” The Enchanter said, falling into step beside him as they walked down the ramp and onto the expansive launch point. The breeze was strong from this open landing, the battered wind markers around them whipping chaotically in the open air. These were the kind of conditions favourable to sailors, carrying amazing wooden creations to places unknown.

And I guess Rito as well, she thought, narrowly avoiding a tall, orange-feathered figure that landed a few feet away. Maiya righted herself, nearly stumbling backwards in surprise.

"Sorry, chika!" They called out, stepping around her quickly and making a beeline for the stairs.

The Hylian looked on in bewilderment, tugging a little self-consciously on her bandana as she turned back to face the archer. “What the...ah, anyway. I was on my way here when I realised I hadn’t eaten yet. Decided to stop by the bakery.”

Revali took a bite from the roll, making a small hum in approval before reaching into the utility pouch attached to his belt. Pulling out a glass vial, he passed it to the Enchanter. “My thanks then, as well as your payment.”

“What’s this?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at the vermillion liquid within. She uncorked the stopper and took a whiff of the unknown substance. It was pungent and sharp, making her pull away.

“Spicy Elixir. So you, pardon my bluntness, avoid freezing your pointed ears off whilst we’re traversing through the mountains.”

Maiya smelled it again, wrinkling her nose.

Revali tut-tted, though his eyes gleamed with barely hidden amusement. That bastard. “I don’t want to hear any complaints. The arctic chill is merciless. You need to drink it if you plan to keep all your limbs intact.”

She looked at the Spicy Elixir again, watching the dubious liquid slosh to the side—Oh Hylia, is that a butterfly wing?— before throwing it back as one would a shot. The warmth that came was instantaneous, as if an invisible force had suddenly encased her. It wrapped around her in the same way a blanket that had been left to heat close to the fireplace would. She was filled with a renewed sense of energy and realised then how cold her joints really were even in her heaviest of clothes.

Revali chuckled.

She opened her eyes, the curve of her mouth falling into a frown. “Care to share?”

“Not that I was speaking any falsehoods regarding the warming effects of the elixir but,” he smiled crookedly, shaking his head. “You trust too easily, Hylian.” Securing his bow to his front, he faced north and crouched.

Her brow twitched. “Me? Trust you?” Maiya shot back defensively as she hoisted herself up, minding this time not to grab on too tightly onto any feathers. “When Death Mountain freezes over.”

Deep breaths and reign in the attitude was what she told herself as they left the landing. The drop still terrified her, her chest sinking to her knees everytime Revali so much as bobbed with the wind. She was thankful at least that the weather was favourable enough that he chose to forego the dive. Instead, he caught the gale with his outstretched wings, flapping and gaining height as they progressed forward.

Some adventurers on horseback looked up as they passed, many of them gaping in awe at the blue feathered warrior who sailed above them. Revali made no comment, head facing forward and beak an impassive line. Though the subtle fluff to his feathers gave him away, betraying the fact that he was basking in the attention.

Behind her, Rito Village became smaller with every passing minute, slowly disappearing behind the clouds until even the largest windmill was but a wink in the distance. Glittering waters turned into grassy forests as flat ground made way to grey rocks and white tipped bushes.

Revali’s wings caught a strong gust of wind, gaining speed as he advanced them forward through to the Hebra Mountains. Clouds parted, the white shroud slowly lifting to reveal a whole different world.

She felt like they were flying amongst giants. White capped peaks dominated the landscape from all directions, filling her peripheries and extending out into the distance. Reduced visibility combined with the blinding ivory void made it seem like it could go on forever. She’d never seen mountains like this before.

The wind also sounded different here. She would have thought that as a Rito, perpetually at mercy to the gale, he would find it troubling. Between these icy mountains it was wild and unruly, every gust pushing into them from different directions. However, as they ventured deeper into Hebra, it became apparent that Revali felt no fear.

If the breeze slammed into them at full force, he always knew just how to angle himself. Tilting, flapping, flying—anything to propel himself higher and further than ever before.

When it rebelled, he would soothe it. When it dropped away, he would easily reclaim it.

And when it calmed, a steady push against his wings, he would truly soar.

It was a literal breath of fresh air. Maiya could have sworn she was dreaming, still asleep in her room at Cheska’s inn. Up in the air, Revali was far from the gloating asshole who had nearly killed her with an arrow and never apologised. At this moment, he was quiet and precise, riding the gale like he was born amongst the clouds.

They flew behind one of the many snowy peaks, an empty mountain pass coming into view. Keeping close to the exposed mountain face at their left, Revali began to slow, aiming for a far-away spot jutting out perpendicular to the cliffside.

Landing on a slab of extended rock, he gestured for her to sit down, surprising her when he did the same.

The Hylian tried not to look down. They were suspended about 50 feet above the ground. Wind sifted through her hair, dancing around them and lightly ruffling the feathers along his side. She took this time to catch her breath, the mountain air surprising her with its sweetness. Vaguely she could detect the scent of the pine sticking up like pillars in the pure-white snow underneath them.

Temporarily shutting her eyes, she focused on her other senses. Cold rock underneath her fingers. Whistles from the wind. The smell of the pine trees mingling with something else. Wax and oak, with a hint of honey. She racked her brain for a reason why such an odd combination was now familiar to her.

Something cold touched her nose.

Maiya opened her eyes. She watched as snowflakes fell from the sky, imprinting temporary patterns on her clothes and melting on her exposed skin.

Then, like most times, panic decided to reel in its ugly head from out of nowhere.

Now seated and breath returning to her lungs, deep trepidation filled her. One scenario came after another, joining together and mixing into a single, big clusterfuck of a ‘what-if?’ What if she couldn’t fight? What if her knives never found purchase?

What if she froze? She could see the moment playing out clear as day. The fear would paralyze her. Glued to the ground with an angry Talus rushing towards her. Stuck in place until she was crushed underfoot like a bug.

“Stop that.”

Maiya turned to see that Revali had taken out his bow, running a feather down the gears. It was an intricate weapon, painted a steadfast dark-blue and embellished with geometric patterns along its sides.

“Stop what?”

“Thinking so loudly.” He explained, grunting with effort when he tightened a screw.

Her eye twitched in annoyance at his tone. Must he always pick a fight with me? She frowned indignantly. “I’m not allowed to plan ahead?”

“You call that planning?" He scoffed. "Don’t fool yourself, enchanter. I’m not blind. You’re running your mind ragged again, overly ruminating on imaginary events that have yet come to pass.”

He began to adjust the bow’s string, running a feather down its side. “If you continue looking behind only to lose your head in the endless possibilities of potential threats, then you are defenseless to the already existing enemy running towards you. Expecting to survive like that is foolish. You will be better off fighting with your eyes closed.”

He set the bow down on his lap, training his full attention onto her. Her breath hitched. She found herself at the mercy of eyes a deep, emerald green. Piercing and sharper than any of the knives she was carrying, not a single detail escaping his notice.

“You will not be able to face your opponent effectively if you keep battling yourself. Truly look at what’s in front of you. Do that properly, and you will not miss.”

The Enchanter was silent, still feeling very much pinned under the intensity of his gaze. He’d only known her for a day or two and had already managed to find the holes in her armour, striking at them with such precise accuracy that she didn’t know whether she should thank him for the honest assessment, or push him off the ledge for his blatant rudeness and reading of her character. Her hand twitched as the rune sent a jolt up her arm, dancing along to the erratic beat of her heart.

But why…, she found herself wondering, unable to stop herself from staring back. Unknowingly, she leaned forward ever so slightly, flecks of snow falling around them. Why is he looking at me like that?

The mountainside shuddered, making them both jolt up in surprise. Hurriedly, she rushed to the edge of the short rock platform, the tension on her shoulders tightening in a vice grip at what she saw below.

It was colossal. Terrifying to the point where it almost crossed over the line to awe-inspiring by the sheer characteristic of its size. Rising from the earth, it shook and shuddered as if possessed, hobbling forward and slamming its gargantuan stone fists into the snow covered forest floor with so much force that it shook the mountain and their platform once again. From her vantage point, she could see the piece of ore at the top of its head, sparkling in the morning light like a jewel on a crown.

When the Talus’ hands came away from the ground, Maiya saw that they were coated in red. Not blood, she thought, too pink and thick. Though the longer she looked, she noticed the same pinkish red substance coating its body in different places. On its bare face, along its leg, all across its rock appendages. It flowed and bubbled, creeping along the Talus’ body like a parasitic weed, dripping like acidic rain and melting the pure white snow below.

Uleh did not mention that.

She coughed, her throat suddenly dry and scratchy. “I think that’s our target.”

Revali exhaled a small cloud of air, unbothered. “Hm? That’s new. I thought we would have to lure it up from the ground. Seems it has done most of the work for us.” He pointed to the quiver of arrows on his back, some arrowheads curled and shaped to resemble a single flame. “It will go down easy with a few of these in its body. After all, a monster that relies solely on a barrier of ice stands no chance against the blaze of fire.”

He stood up, brushing the snow from his shoulder, a futile gesture as more began to rain down anyway. “No rush, it won’t be able to see us from up here.” He tapped the rock floor with his talons. “It uses the vibrations in the ground to make an ‘educated’ guess as to where its victim would be. From our vantage point, it’s like we don’t even exist.”

She tilted her head to the side, watching the Talus amble and sway from left to right, still feeling apprehensive at how relaxed Revali was in this situation. Warriors really are something else.

He brought the bow to his front, stretching his wings to the sky like he was about to go for a leisurely run and not, well, fight a rock monster that would crush you if you so much as sneezed on it. “Well then, enchanter. I do hope this seat provides you with an adequate view for the show this morning. Just sit back and get comfortable.”

Maiya stood and stalked towards him, not caring that she was invading his personal space as she stabbed a finger into his chestplate. “Get comfortable? What are you talking about?”

He took advantage of the height difference, looking down at her past the tip of his beak like he was appraising a petulant child. “You honestly believe I would let you fight that thing?”

She wanted to rip her hair out. “This venture is purely for my benefit, I am not letting you do all the dirty-work while I sit on my ass and watch like some useless piece of shi-”

The ground shuddered again. Both barely had time to react when a boulder was sent flying in their direction.

She blinked, suddenly finding herself gripping onto Revali’s front as they hurtled to the ground below. The Rito Warrior somersaulted in the air, the seconds of uncontrolled flight and pure free fall eating up the scream bubbling in her throat.

Then, his wings were outstretched, miraculously by the Goddess' grace catching the wind, slowing their descent before they hit the snow covered ground with a painful thud.

Her brain rattled, eyes fluttering and struggling to clear the fog blocking her vision. Her ears rang as she heaved in a breath, the very action making her cry out in pain. Her ribs hurt. Her hand...her hand was—!!

Shattered rocks rained above them. The Enchanter yelped, Revali’s voice loud in her ear as he gasped in alarm, wrapping his wings around her and rolling them to the side just as a large chunk of what used to be their platform stabbed into the spot where their bodies were half a second ago.

The Rito released his hold on her, standing up and equipping his bow in a single fluid motion. Through the haze of her clouded vision, she watched as he took aim, pulled the bowstring back and fired.

It surprised her how a monster without a mouth could make such a chilling sound. Cracking rock and a screech so glaringly inhuman reached her ears, making her blood run cold.

There was truly no turning back now.

In the next moment, her arm found itself in a vice grip as Revali hauled her to her feet, pulling her along as they sought cover in a nearby sparse grove of trees. Chest heaving, her brain struggled to catch up to what had just transpired. Barely, it managed to process the feeling of blue feathered wings running down her arms, tilting her head from left to right and brushing the hair away from her eyes.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Checking for injuries.” He said tersely. “Where are we?”

“Huh?”

Head snapping up, his eyes once again commanded her undivided attention. They were the same emeralds as before, except this time completely void of any kind of relaxed confidence, replaced now by a sharp focus and a clinical detachedness that made her stomach clench. “Hylian, do you know where we are right now?”

“Rospro Pass.” She said, remembering the words on Uleh’s map.

“Good. Did anything hurt when we were running towards the trees?”

Maiya blinked quickly. “No. Oh, well actually— fuck!” She screamed, hands slapping Revali’s wing away as she pulled her arms in to wrap around her aching torso. Her left hand shook and spasmed, strings of energy rattling through her veins like barbed wire cutting into her skin. This was too much. Mortifyingly, tears sprang up in the corner of her eyes. She’d been through much, much worse, but no matter how many times her rune had tortured her, pain is no different. Feeling something stuck in her throat, she spat it out to the side, a glob of fresh blood hitting the snow.

“Sorry,” Revali said quickly. “I need you to move your arms away.” With a little more prying, she agreed, too caught up in her panic for herself and the active and angry rune in her hand to feel embarrassed that he was lifting up the edge of her shirt, his wing poking the reddened, inflamed skin above her ribs as she hissed.

“One of them is fractured, but not severe enough to pierce the skin or anything important internally. At least from what I can see. Can you take some short breaths for me?”

She nodded, wincing at the sound of her wheeze.

“Then you’ll live.” Both their heads shot up to the direction of the same otherworldly screech from before, echoing not too far away from their current position. “Tch,” the Rito archer straightened up, reaching into one of his side pouches and pulling out a wide bandage. He made quick work of wrapping it around her middle, tying the knot and yanking her shirt back down. “You need to run away, enchanter. Follow the path down the mountain, there’s a guard post at the foot. Tell them to bring reinforcements.”

She glared at him, eyes red and venomous. “No! Not without you. I already told you, Rito, this is my mess and I am seeing it through.”

“We don’t have time for this,” he muttered, frantically scanning the clearing for some other kind of cover and coming up blank. “I’m still unsure as to what it is, but there is something wrong with this Talus. I’ve fought only two previous but I am confident that this one is different. It’s faster—smarter somehow.”

“And it can see us.”

“Yes, either through sheer dumb luck or something else entirely. Its movements are unpredictable. Almost like it’s being controlled from the sidelines.” He gritted out, annoyance shining clear at having to solve such a puzzle under immense pressure. He swiped the fallen snow away from his eyes, growling.

She directed her gaze to the floor, focusing on the patch of red seeping into the snow by her feet. Her blood was a stain against what was once uniform purity. Another roar echoed through the trees, this time accompanied by the crash of heavy footsteps, dragging through the snow. “I know you’re one of the best of your people, but even then there’s no way you can hold it back for that long without getting hurt.” She tried to reason.

Revali shook his head, squeezing her shoulder before turning to bolt past the grove. “I’ll distract it. Run!”

“Wait!” She reached out to pull him back, but her hand was met with only empty air. Pure dread stole the breath from her lungs as she watched him exit out the trees and into the open clearing where the Talus waited to meet him. Another jolt of pain rocketed through her hand. Combined with the stabbing ache in her chest it was almost unbearable. She inhaled shakily, moving forward and following the tracks that Revali’s talons had made on the ground, fighting for her eyes to stay open as she stumbled out into the light.

Snow lightly fell from the sky, brushing down azure feathers that fluffed at the edges as Revali levelled his bow. He fired three in quick succession, cutting a red line through the air like a shooting star. Each sunk into the Talus’ icy exterior, melting patches with a low hiss and exposing the black rock underneath.

Falling forward, the monster sunk back into the ground. Revali took advantage of the situation, sprinting away towards the cliff face to gain more distance.

Maiya took this chance to move as well, footsteps sinking into the snowy ground as she struggled forward in the direction of the Talus. The ground shuddered again as she launched herself at it, a knife in each hand. She dug the blades into its exposed interior, holding on for dear life as she scrambled to gain purchase.

“What are you doing?!” A frantic, angry voice yelled out.

“Fire more arrows!” Bracing her feet on the Talus’ surface, she took a chance and let go of one of her improvised hand holds, grabbing another knife from her bandolier and swinging it up to stab it into the last open patch of rock. She hoisted herself up, screaming out in agony but nonetheless refusing to let go. “Please!” She called out, feet slipping against the rock’s surface.

Something whistled past her ear. An arrow embedded itself into the space above her, rapidly evaporating the ice. Then came another, and another, marking a pathway up to the Talus’ zenith. Again she freed her opposite hand, fractured ribs shifting and aching as she stabbed a dagger upwards, pulling herself closer to the ore.

The strange parasitic pink substance flowed down next to her, emitting a stench of rot that made her gag. Carefully she maneuvered around it, not wanting to find out for herself what would happen if even the skin of her hand were to brush it.

Continuing to climb, she struggled against another monster, one intent on taking full control of her wavering resolve. It was a beast formed of intense fear and regret, tugging at her mind and causing her hold to grow shakier with every passing minute. Why didn’t you run away?! It roared.

The thud of another arrow spurred her forward, her adrenaline running high as she devoted her focus solely to reaching the top.

Almost there. For a moment, she could finally see the ore’s surface, shining only an arm’s length away from her. Maiya reached again for her bandolier, shaking fingers brushing an empty pocket.

“Fuck sakes,” she cursed. She was out of knives.

Clouds of air escaped her mouth as she leaned her head on the monster’s surface, an intense feeling of hopelessness freezing her movements. Everything felt heavy, the swinging scabbard at her hip weighing her down and threatening to weaken her hold on her knife.

Wait, there’s still...

Her hand drifted down to where the enchanted dagger was sheathed. In response, the rune spasmed, sending a shock through her veins in disagreement as if it knew exactly what she was going to do.

Not once did Teacher mention what would happen if she were to use an enchanted weapon of her own make. She was neither Master nor an unworthy stranger. So many things could go wrong. Would it kill her? Would it even work? What would happen if—!

Underneath her, the Talus shuddered.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Slowly, the surface began to move, lifting itself from the snow. All around her, the parasitic fluid coating its body came alive, calling out in celebration. Several arrows rained down from the sky, piercing into the Talus’ armour but failing to deter it from its course. The monster began to stand.

Maiya unbuckled the enchanted dagger from its scabbard. Grabbing the hilt, she lifted it up, and with all the strength in her body, swung up and stabbed it into the Talus’ ore.

There was a flash of light, an ear piercing screech, and suddenly she was in the air again.

It was like a bad dream. She could see the white ground hurtling towards her. Curling into herself, she braced just in time before her body collided with the snow. Something solid hit her head, rattling her brain and causing her world to turn black.

Wa…ke…!

Fire. Everything was on fire. She was drowning in a sea of fleeing people, ribbons of smoke were filling her lungs and the smell of burning and rot was choking her. A blood moon was in the sky.

Wa...ke….p

A figure was standing at the doorway of a crumbling house, calling out to her. Their feathers were burnt, dissipating into ashes as the skin underneath began to melt to the bone.

“I’m sorry, there are too many people!” She tried to scream, voice refusing to leave her lips as she fought helplessly against the tide. “Don’t just stand there! You need to run! I can’t— ”

A lilting voice, warm as sunlight, whispered in her ear.

“Hylianlla. Please. Wake up.”

In a disorienting second, her surroundings slammed back into place. Maiya sucked in a shaky breath, her cheek throbbing. Cold snow melted underneath her, seeping into her clothes and stinging like a thousand needles pressing into her skin.

The ground began to shake. A familiar voice was calling out to her. “Get up! Valloo damnit, enchanter! Stand!”

Every vein, every cell and atom in her bruised body cried out. She wanted to go back to sleep. This was too much.

Weakly, she rolled onto her stomach, the pain in her ribs causing her eyes to snap open. Coughing, she spat more blood onto the snow, her arms and knees shaking as she slowly began to stand.

She’d been thrown into the midst of an earthquake. Dazed, her head lolled upwards, watching in frozen horror as the Talus barrelled towards her, its heavy steps falling in time to the shuddering of the world underneath her feet.

Behind it, Revali furiously loosed arrow after arrow. Not one missed their mark, but not a single shot had managed to melt through its ice encasing. Belatedly, she realised that the archer had run out of fire arrows. The odds were stacked against them.

Yelling, she threw herself to the side, dodging a giant rock hurled in her direction. Desperately, she scrambled back onto her feet, avoiding one stone after another by the skin of her teeth. The monster continued to gain on her, quickly closing the distance between them.

Maiya blinked away the sweat from her eyes, the fear in her heart that had kept her alive for this long gradually losing its hold over her to the pull of fatigue. If she devoted herself to running, she wouldn’t be able to avoid the Talus’ attacks. If she slowed her run to focus on dodging, it would catch up to her in seconds.

I’m not going to make it.

Mind reeling, she didn’t notice the rock jutting up behind her. She tripped, falling face first into the snow. The monster shrieked in delight. Shaking violently, she tried to stand again, falling back down as the muscles in her legs seized from overuse.

The Talus was but a metre away at this point. Even if she tried, she wouldn’t be able to outrun it. A rare moment of peace settled over her as she slowly stood up.

If she were to die here, she wouldn’t die lying down.

As the monster approached, she managed to catch the glint of her enchanted dagger still embedded into the cracking ore. It was uncontrolled, spewing out flames in an unfettered act of rage. Her greatest creation was violent and angry, but the Talus remained unshaken. It would take days for it to make a noticeable dent.

What have I done?

Standing her ground, she watched as the Talus raised its fists to the sky, blocking out the sun as it readied itself to slam down and put an end to her life. She didn’t know what to think. Light escaped from the seams of her glove, the rune all but bursting into flames. Hylia, did it hurt. But it didn’t matter. This would all be over soon.

She kept her eyes open, making a quiet wish somewhere deep in her tired soul that despite all the odds stacked against them, Revali would escape.

A streak of red sailed through the sky.

Equal parts shocked and horrified, Maiya watched as the Talus’ movements suddenly came to a halting stop. All reality slowed. Rock arms, once raised high as a terrifying monument to her mortality, dropped to its sides as it turned around.

Facing completely away from her, the monster directed its attention to the Rito archer behind it, revealing to the Enchanter the single fire arrow protruding from its back.

Revali dropped his bow, every one of his arrows completely expended. Out of options, he unsheathed the hunter’s knife strapped to his belt, gripping it tightly between both his wings. “Hey, blockhead!” He called out, beak curved up in a mocking, open smile. “Face me.”

The repulsive pink parasite bubbled and writhed, releasing a vile, high-pitched wail. Its host shuddered to life, starting forward and dragging its hulking body along the snow in the direction of the Pride of the Rito.

Her body moved on its own.

West Rospro Pass melted into a mess of sound and colour. The pain that rippled through her chest, the frustration, the fear; all of it blended together and were cast aside as every fibre in her being rallied and converged on a single goal.

Nothing mattered beyond Getting. There. First.

Bringing her hand to her mouth, she sank her teeth into the glove, ripping it away. Energy sparked and crackled underneath her skin. Beams of blue light spilled from her scar, warming the surface of her cheek and begging for release.

“YOU STUPID BIRD!”

Revali lifted his head, green eyes stunned when he saw the Hylian sprinting closer.

The earth trembled as the Talus neared. In a last ditch effort she grabbed the Rito by his white scarf, yanking him behind her and placing herself between him and the path of the monster.

It was only steps away now, close enough for her to feel the chill of the ice on the tip of her nose. Operating on pure instinct, she raised her left arm, trying not to flinch as the shadow of the Talus’ form fell over the both of them.

Panic seized her unexpectedly. She was dumped into the ocean again and rapidly sinking, struggling to keep her head above the waves as the storm thrashed mercilessly around her.

Caught in the undertow, she fought to stay afloat.

This is my fault.

I did this.

I can’t let him die.

I can’t let him die!

I can’t—

Someone held her shoulder. Warm breath fanned the hairs on the back of her neck. Revali’s voice, lacking its usual sardonic edge, was but a gentle whisper on her skin, piercing through the water and pulling her up from the depths.

“Maiya.” He said, grounding her.

Without another thought, she plunged her glowing arm into the core of the Frost Talus. The parasite screamed and thrashed in alarm. For the first time in her life, she allowed herself to let go, letting the pull of the rune take over.

Her outstretched hand sunk past the ice with ease, beams of blue light escaping through the cracks of the rock and illuminating the Pass.

In mere seconds, her vision was full of nothing but fire. The Frost Talus, in its unfathomable enormity, was lost and overtaken in the light of the flames.

#revali #revali botw #revali x oc #botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #loz #botw fanfiction #rito #rito botw #botw fic #fanfiction #writing #maiya botw #firebird botw

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ohtheseboysilove · 5 years ago

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The greatess actress II [Ben Hardy x F!Reader]

sWords : 4, 000 K +

Warnings : mostly angst, fluff

Summary : Things aren’t always as they seems.

Note : More angst for you guys, I know you all ask for it so here you go :) I’m really gmad for all the reviews and positive feedbacks I had for the first chapter so thank u so much ! I didn’t start writing chapter 3 yet but I have few ideas so if you guys have suggestions or theories I would love to heart hat !!! (i mostly replied to the messages in my inbox bc it’s easier to see them than the comments !!) Much love xx

x Masterlist x

“And…action !”

You pretended to leave and Ben grabbed your wrist, tugging him against him rather roughly. You put a flat hand on his torso and looked at him with big, lost eyes.

“What—”

“Don’t say anything, baby” Then he crashed his lips on yours, sending a wave of electricity down your spine as you replied eagerly to the kiss.

The kiss was intense, slow and hot, during for what seemed like age. You weren’t really complaining. But it was the third time you did this scene because of the director who always wanted to add something and it started to be a bit much for you and your weak heart.

“And we got it ! Awesome guys !” The director jumped from his seat and went behind the camera looking at the screen with enthusiasm. “Everyone, take 5 !”

You sighed discretely and detached yourself from Ben, running a nervous finger through your hairs.

“Are you still coming tonight ?” You glanced toward the blond man, gaze falling right on his swollen lips, tempting and deliciously-looking red.

“Hum, probably ?” You scolded mentally yourself to stop looking at his mouth like a fucking creep and instead focus on his eyes.

Which maybe wasn’t better.

“Oh come on, it’s Randy’s last day ! He won’t forgive you if you don’t come” Ben winked and you chuckled awkwardly, ignoring the way the butterflies were going crazy in your belly.

“I guess you’re right” You smiled almost shyly, his bright and beautiful eyes were always making you kind of timid. “But I won’t stay long, we got an early scene tomorrow” You felt yourself become ridiculously red when he laughed loudly and threw an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly against his strong body.

“You’re right and I’m pretty excited for tomorrow anyway”

You both walked to your trailers, next to each other, as the day was done and you couldn’t wait to go back into your own clothes.

“You are ?” You briefly remembered that the scene you had to do tomorrow was pretty romantic, lot of touchy-feely moments but nothing sexual, thanks god.

“Yeah, I mean…we’re filming at the beach so obviously breaks gonna be funnier than on set” He grinned and you silently swallowed back the disappointment bubbling in your chest.

“The beach, right” You forced a smile. Of course that was the reason why he was excited, idiot. He had a freaking girlfriend for god’s sake. “I will see you later, Ben” You waved awkwardly and climbed the few steps to your trailers before closing the door behind you, barely hearing his answer.

You let your body fall heavily on your bed, feeling exhausted and completely stupid.

It wasn’t the first time you had feelings for one of your co-star, honestly it was hard to stay hermetic when your job was to kiss a handsome and nice guy all day long. Once, you had to film for few weeks with Liam Hemsworth and god, the man was absolutely breathtaking. You had a tiny crush on him during the filming but nothing horrible, it didn’t make your job more complicated or anything. It was fairly innocent. You just enjoyed what a beautiful man he was but you stayed in control easily.

You also dated for two years with one of your previous co-stars, George Mackay but it was pretty obvious from the beginning that the both of you were into each other, which made everything easier.

You didn’t forget either when you had a tiny role in a big Hollywood move where you were only needed to literally make out with Leonardo DiCaprio. It was probably the first time you were so nervous to act, which was ridiculous because you barely spent more than two hours on set. But it was Leonardo freaking DiCaprio, your first crush had been Jack Dawson from Titanic so obviously it was huge for you.

No one probably remembered you from this movie but it was your little moment of pride. You made out with Leonardo freaking DiCaprio.

But nothing could compare to your feelings with Ben. You weren’t prepared at all for the wave of feelings which hit you strong in the face. Not at all.

When you first heard that you would be filming with Ben as co-star, you did some researches and found out it was the guy from the Bohemian Rhapsody movie, you were happy because he was an excellent actor in this film. And you couldn’t denied he was pretty attractive which could help as you were supposed to play lovers in this new project.

It started with an innocent crush, making your friends a bit jealous because you were kissing and holding hands with the new heart-robe of Hollywood. But it turned out to be much more when you started hanging out with him. He wasn’t only handsome. He was really funny, humble, generous, always making sure you were comfortable for any kind of intimate scene but he was also sensitive and not as confident as you thought first.

He was everything you could dream in a boyfriend.

You sighed loudly and rubbed your face roughly, heart beating heavily in your chest.

Why did you have to fall in love with an unavailable man ?

“We’re gonna miss you, big guy !” You watched Ben cheekily tussled Randy dirty red hairs, a large smile on his face.

“´f course you will ! But no need to go all emotional on me, Hardy. You’re still invited to my wedding in two months” Randy chuckled, his hand wrapped around a large pint of beer.

You giggled quietly as the two friends hugged again, both of them pretty tipsy after several drinks. Randy was playing one of Ben’s closest friend in the movie but he finished to do all of his scenes and he was now, sadly, leaving the set.

You took a little sip of your Margarita, only the second drinks of the evening for you as you hated being tired or hungover to film. Especially when you had to focus much more with your feelings for Ben, making your job much harder.

“Who is gonna kick my ass at FIFA now ?” The British man complained with a pout, making the whole table giggled.

“Literally everyone, Hardy” Joshua, one of the secondary actor of the movie spoke up, earning a round of applause from everyone.

You let your eyes trailed on Ben for few seconds. You couldn’t help but looked at him. He was so different out of the set, much more relax and you loved even more this part of him. His blond hairs were all over the place, slightly longer than before and it was certainly doing things to you. The way his eyes were sparkling due to the alcohol made your heart beat faster, this childish look was good on him, always wearing his boyish smile which made your knees weak.

And, surprisingly, Isis wasn’t here tonight. You felt like you could breath a little bit easier when she wasn’t around. You were so worried she found out you were in love with her boyfriend, it was scaring you more than everything.

“(Y/N) !” You jumped at Randy's voice and quickly tore your eyes from Ben’s jaw, pushing aside any thoughts.

“Yeah ?”

“I said do you want another drink ?” You nodded weakly and swallowed thickly, feeling nervous to almost been caught day-dreaming about Ben. “What were you looking at so intensely ? This little boyfriend of yours ?” The red hair laughed and pinched the blond’s cheek, making him groaned.

“Hey!” Ben pushed his hands away from his face and looked at you, an amused smile on his features. “I’m pretty sure she wasn’t looking at me, she see me enough all day long”

“True” You grinned and internally screamed. You could never be bored of looking at his pretty face. Never.

“So who where you looking at ? Did someone caught your eyes perhaps ?” Everyone turned, very discreetly, around and started giggling like teenager when they saw a quite charming brunette glancing over the table, few of his friends clearly teasing him.

“I see” Ben winked at you, finishing his drink with one gulp. “I think you should talk to him” He tilted his head toward the guy and you cringed internally.

It was literally the last thing you wanted to do. You didn’t even notice this guy until they all started looking at him. Your luck, obviously.

“I’m not sure about that” You laughed awkwardly and pushed few strands of hairs behind your ear, hoping for something, anything, to save you from talking to this stranger.

“Oh come on ! He is literally devouring you with his eyes” Ben nudged you gently. “And you were doing the same a minute before” He smirked and you were half relieved that he didn’t notice you were ogling him, not this random dude.

“(Y/N) ! (Y/N) ! (Y/N)” You wanted to disappear right now. You watched your friends cheering your name until you had enough and decided to agree, walking to the bar where you knew the guy would meet you too. “Go get it girl !” Randy drunkenly yelled and you felt your whole face turned red.

“Hey” You looked at the brunette, he wasn’t bad looking clearly. Curly hairs and cute dimples. Totally your type before you fell for a blond beefy guy.

“Hi” You smiled nervously and discreetly glanced toward Ben, looking for any kind of reassurance that he was maybe a bit annoyed by the fact that you were talking to another guy.

You couldn’t help yourself but wished that maybe he was sharing your feelings. Deep down. Maybe he was falling for you too but still confused with Isis. Conflicted. It was selfish but there were nothing you could do about these thoughts. Except keeping them for you.

But for all answer from Ben, you get a cheeky smile and two thumbs up. Clearly not bothered by the situation. You returned the smile, fake and smaller one before turning around to the man, your throat tight and your heart even more broken.

These feelings were clearly one-sided.

“You look like shit, hun” Molly greeted you as you sat, or rather flopped very graciously, on the chair in front of her, a fuming Costa cup in your right hand.

“That’s why you’re here” You snorted lazily before taking a sip of your coffee, not in the mood to talk much.

She glanced at you, feeling the mood immediately and decided to start your hairs and makeup in silence, humming quietly.

The whole crew was at the beach for the day and the place was truly breathtaking, a little creek mostly quiet except for the soft rolling of the waves. It was still dark outside, the sun barely peaking up and you needed to get the perfect scene as the director really wanted the whole sun rising romantic moment for your and Ben’s characters.

“Ten minutes before we started !” You sighed quietly and quickly finished your coffee, feeling already done with this way too cute scene for you.

Ben waved at you from his chair, Isis not far from him, both of them getting ready too. Yeah, like it wasn’t hard enough for you, Isis managed to get a small part as an extra for few scenes. Easy when you dated the main actor. And even more when you were as gorgeous as she was.

“All done, honey” You thanked Molly and rose on your feet, walking toward the small wardrobe department to get your clothes for the shoot.

A cute little yellow bikini and a pair of sunglasses were all you needed for today. The thought of spending so much time near Ben with so little clothes on was stressful. You nearly fainted when you spotted him walking in his blue swim trunk, a beach towel lazily hanging from his right shoulder.

What a sight.

And…action !“

You took a deep sight and blocked every other thoughts than the ones about Ellie, the character you were portraying in this movie.

"I’m glad we decided to come here” Ben or rather Will, murmured in your ear, hands softly resting on your hips as you were perched on his lap.

“Me too” You slightly turned your head just enough to catch his eyes, smiling sweetly.

The scene was indeed very romantic. Kind of cliché but still, it was making your heart beat much faster. Ben was seating on the white sand, his body pressed against you was bringing shivers down your frame.

Your group of friends were seating around a camp fire, giggling and chatting as you and Ben were with them but in your own bubble, looking at each other lovingly.

As the sun slowly rose, you continued to act as you had to, suppressing the love which was wrapping your entire body every time you looked at him. Few kisses were exchanged, few touches as well and other sweet little attentions between the two of you, carefully following the script.

It was even harder because for you everything felt so natural. When you had to play with his hairs at the back of his neck you weren’t acting, not really. It was easy, like you done it your whole life. When Ben rested softly a hand on your knee you didn’t feel awkward or nervous, it felt right. And it had been like that since day one.

“You’re not too cold ? I felt you shiver during our scene” Ben whispered as you had a mini break, waiting for everyone to go back at their assigned spots.

You wanted to laugh at his innocent remark. God bless this sweet, innocent Ben. Yes it wasn’t very warm but the simple feeling of your half naked body against mine was the only main reason of my shivers.

But you simply nodded. “Yeah but it’s alright we’re almost done with this scene anyway” You patted his shoulder nicely and he gently rubbed your forearm, in a nice attempt of keeping your warm.

Few hours later and you were still on the beach, few more scenes to film with this time, the sun high in the sky and the heat nicely warming your skin.

You shielded your vision to watch Ben cockily walked toward you, his body dripping wet from the bath he just took in the sea.

“Hey there” He grinned and didn’t lost a minute before laying on top of you, making you squirmed under him at the freshness of the water.

“Get off me idiot !” You giggled and tried to wiggle your way out but his strong body was easily caging you.

“Can’t do that, you’re really comfy” He laid even more on you and you let out a shaky breath as you could feel every muscles of his body against yours. “Everyone is having fun, except you, come on !” You gasped when he ran his wet hand in your hairs, purposely messing them on your face before moving off you.

“I’m reading a very good book” You weakly replied, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue.

You were just avoiding going near his girlfriend. You were on a break for a little hour and most of the crew was in the water and you would love to join them. But Isis was there too, gaining most of the attention as she was always speaking loudly or giggling. And did you mentioned how pretty she was ? Everyone could see that too. So you just felt awkward next to her, stupid really but she was so confident and dating Ben. You were so scared that somehow she noticed how you looked at him and understood what was going on. It would be a total mess if she did.

“Yeah, whatever” The blond rolled his eyes at you bad excuse before catching your hips and throwing you over his shoulder. You screamed from the top of your lungs as he run toward the water, chuckling louder every time you asked, rather yelled, him to let you go.

He threw you on the water as everyone cheered, apparently really amused by his stupid joke. You felt two hands quickly grabbing you from under the water and you took a big breath, the salty water dripping on your face.

“You’re alright ?” Ben’s giant smile immediately warmed you up. You clenched your hands on his shoulder, wiping the water from your features with your free hand, couching a bit at the salty taste.

“Asshole” You mumbled as you pushed your hairs away from your face. You slapped his chest when he audibly laughed. ”This is so not funny ! I was fine on my towel" You protested but couldn’t suppress the amused smiled from blossoming upon your face.

“Why are you laughing then ?” Ben teased you and you rolled your eyes before swimming away from him, heart fluttering heavily at the simple interaction you just had with him.

Why he had to be so bloody cute with you all the time ? It wasn’t helping your case.

You looked behind your shoulder toward Ben and your smile dropped immediately when you spotted Isis, hanging around his neck as they shared a giggling kiss.

He was just being friendly, get your shit together for god’s sake, (Y/N).

You didn’t miss the suspicious glance that Isis threw you, her brows slightly furrowed like she was in deep reflection. She gave you a little smile when she caught your eyes on her before she focused back on the British man.

You deeply hoped she wasn’t thinking anything about this little friendly moment between you and Ben.

“Baby, can you put me some sun-cream on ?” You raised your head toward Ben and stood up, grabbing the protection from his hand.

“You knew you could do it yourself” You commented as you applied a small amount of cream in your hand before rubbing it onto Ben’s large shoulders.

“I can’t reach some part” He grinned, sunglasses hanging low on his nose.

It was like the universe like to torturing you. Every scene you had to do was painfully touchy today and it was putting you under a strong pressure. Isis’ intense gaze on you wasn’t helping either, she watching with attention every of your interactions with her boyfriend.

It wasn’t your fault, you were just acting right now. But you felt incredibly uncomfortable under her eyes. Like you were doing something wrong. Which you weren’t as it was your freaking job.

“You’re just lazy, Will” You rolled your eyes and kept rubbing the sun-cream on his back, breathing quickening as you reached his hips. “Done” You announced before he turned around, welcoming you with his beautiful and chiselled face.

“Why about here, hum ?” He cheekily drummed his digits on his firm pectoral. He cocked his head to the side, wearing your favourite boyish smile. “Don’t wanna burn” He pouted and you bit your lips, finding him unfairly adorable.

You quickly stopped your day dreaming and scoffed as you were supposed to, pretending to be annoyed.

“You’re a pain in the ass, Will” You repeated the same actions, pouring cream in your hands before rubbing it on his warm torso, goosebumps spreading all over your skin,

“But you love me anyway” He replied with a little smile, pushing his sunglasses on the top of his head.

“Yes, I do” You murmured and, not without difficulty, grinned at him. You were supposed to be happy but the painful truth hiding behind your words was hard to get along with.

“Your hands are so much softer than mine” The blond sighed as he closed his eyes, your pads barely touching his abs. You couldn’t go further or you would literally combust.

“That’s because you never want to put night cream on yours, silly” You said and took few steps away as he lowered his head toward you, eyes still closed. You sighed loudly and quickly rubbed the sun cream on his face.

“No, no ! Stop !” The director made you jump as Ben opened his eyes, both of you looking at him. “(Y/N), darling, you were doing perfectly fine but this last scene…you need to be gentle and tender, alright ? It’s supposed to be a romantic scene between Ellie and Will, not looking like you just want to get ride of him” You chuckled weakly and nodded, watching the director going back to his chair.

“Already annoyed with my presence ?” Ben teased as he went back to his previous position.

You simply smiled and waited for the green light of the cameramen before executing the script. You slowly rubbed your fingers against his face, caressing every of his features without looking away from his eyes, giving to the director all the love he wanted. You swallowed thickly at your proximity, his eyes not leaving yours for a second as you kept caressing his strong cheekbones.

“There you go” You rubbed the remaining of cream on his neck and locked your arms behind it, repressing a shiver when his hands found your face.

You absolutely adored how his digits slid softly on your skin, cupping your jaw like if you were the most precious thing in the world. His thumb gently caressing your cheek as he pressed a sickly sweet kiss on your lips. You could feel the warmth coming from his chest and the pleasant sigh which escaped your mouth wasn’t for the act anymore.

There were absolutely not better feeling in the world.

You let out a deep breath as you snuggled further into your hoodie, the warmth of the day already fading away as the sun disappeared slowly. You grabbed your phone and answered few texts, exhaustion rolling down your bones.

“Are you texting the guy from yesterday ?” You shook your head lazily, letting a yawn escaping your mouth as Joshua, who was playing your brother, sat next to you. “Why not ?”

“Not really interesting” You didn’t bother explaining further, to tired for that. ”How it’s going with Danny ? When he is coming already ?“

Joshua’s eyes immediately lighted up at the mention of his boyfriend.

"Very well, thanks” He beamed and showed you his new screen lock, an adorable picture of the two of them with their new puppy. You let out a little aww and Joshua smiled wider. “He is coming next week, I can’t wait to see him ! And to introduce him to you !”

You listened to his exciting chatting, a little pinching for your heart at how happy and in love he was.

You groaned and get up from your chair as Ben was late for filming. You knew Isis was around so they probably just didn’t see the time, laying in bed. Still, it wasn’t something Ben did often, he was always in time and ready to work.

You swallowed roughly as you walked to his trailer, praying they weren’t shagging because you didn’t know how your heart would take it.

“It’s my freaking job, Isis !” You jumped at Ben’s loud voice followed by few cursing words.

You froze and decided smartly to not knock on the door and instead waited patiently next to the trailer, ear dropping shamelessly. You shouldn’t but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Well, I don’t like it at all, Benjamin !” She yelled back and you heard him sighing, probably knowing he was already late and his girlfriend wasn’t helping. “You didn’t see the way she look at you !”

You felt the same way as the day your best friend from high school threw you a bucket of freezing water on your head. You stopped breathing by fear they would hear you and tried your best to not panic.

Was she talking about you ?

Of course she was ! Who else could be the She ? You were done, done, done. The rest of the filming would be just awkward because of you and your stupid feelings.

"Oh my god, Isis ! We already had this conversation, (Y/N) is simply doing her job, alright ? You need to stop being so paranoiac for Christ’ sake !”

You felt yourself sweating uncomfortably as you listened to them, heart beating like crazy. This was a nightmare.

“She is not acting anymore Ben ! Open your damn eyes for once !” Isis groaned as she slammed a cup loudly on the table, making you jumped again. “She is not acting at all ! It’s fucking obvious !”

“What are you saying Isis ?” Ben muttered, clearly done with this argument. “Come on, enlighten me as apparently you know better than everyone !”

There a beat of complete silence, your muslces completely tetanised as you waited for her answer.

Isis let out a sarcastic, cold laugh. It worried you a lot. And then she pronounced these six little words which would make your heart stop.

“She is fucking in love with you, Ben”

Tag list : @jennyggggrrr @queenlover05 @cubedtriangle

Message me if u want to be add in the tag list !

#ben x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you

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movieguy50 · 3 years ago

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Hey everyone,

I just want to give everyone a quick update as to what's going on with the scams or what's called operation drain and run out of the 200 that were arrested the other day most have been released must have been very forthcoming and giving information some of them have been detained further pending for their interview and or their charges are going to be dropped or reduced law enforcement agencies have confirmed that there are some more smaller cell operations of this type going on here in the United States and in Canada they are now getting in with the Canadian authorities to help with the investigation up there I can't tell you that 75 of the 200 people arrested the other day were members of Tumblr so basically yes they were right under our nose and we did not know it but I knew it.

I can also tell you that information from this point forward is going to be very slim because they are wanting to Big Cheese the people that are actually masterminding all this and they're going to have to start being careful what information they let out and that's totally acceptable to me I totally understand that and they did say the other thing about passing the info. on to you guys as much as they can. They said that I have been a big help in this there's been a few other people that have come forward they've also been assisting and helping out but I still need some more help so anything y'all got if it if it means you got scammed don't worry about being embarrassed you're not going to be judged or you're not going to be treated like shit just because you fell for it.

So now if you've noticed that I changed the format of my blog it makes it look like it's in a daily or weekly episodic TV show it's still called a slice of my world but it's also episode 1-18 this is starting to become a daily or actually it should say it bi-weekly thing of me posting and I have enjoyed it don't get me wrong but the title of this is called oh how things have changed and it's basically going to be a lot of difficult reading from this point forward but stuff that once you read it you'll understand why it has been so difficult I I'm going to Chronicle the night of January 20th of last year through the morning hours of January 21st which is what I considered the moment my life changed forever.

So we begin on January 20th 2020 I had to go to work I walked 4 miles to go to work because I didn't have a vehicle anymore and we were living in a motel so I had to you know make sure one of us is working until a lot of times where I was staying even hard for me to get a ride. So I work the 3:30 to close shift which basically meant I left between anywhere from between 12:30 and 1:00 in the morning I worked at a movie theater which by the way was probably the best job I had ever had in my life I I love that place I would love to go back to another one like it. So basically I got off work about 12:30 that night and normally I would have a ride to work on Monday nights this week it wasn't possible because of something that happened at the theater the manager got behind on his paperwork on and couldn't get out on time like he normally does I had to go to the store that night because we didn't have very much food so I went to store I got about 2 or 3 nights worth of food with enough till I get to my day off from work to go to the store and get more. That was a common occurrence so by the time I got done with the store and got home about 2:30 in the morning my wife was asleep she had been sick for about a month before this which now I have directly linked into being one of the first cases of COVID-19 in the united states'.

I came home and like I said she was asleep and I gave her a kiss like I usually do sometimes it wakes her up sometimes it doesn't this time it woke her up we start talking for a little bit I went outside and I did my usual ritual I go outside and smoke a little weed you know kind of relaxed a little bit for about 20-30 minutes yeah I went inside and cooked dinner now for a little background my wife had been sick for a while she had a heart attack November 8th in 2018 and then she had a stroke Easter Sunday of 2019 a stroke that she refused to go get taken care of even though I begged her and had other people beg her to go to the hospital she would not do it when she had the heart attack the doctor was not able to fix all the blockages to her heart because some of the arteries were too small so he told me privately that if she had another heart attack she wouldn't survive it I knew that I told her that about 3 months later so she knew but on this night I never had any dream or knowing that 2 hours after I got home from work she would be dead she had a massive heart attack I was just getting ready to start cooking dinner when she started really screaming about chest pain and I've never heard her go off like she did and even though I called 911 it still took the damn people 20 minutes to get out there otherwise I still think she'd be alive but then again maybe not so to try to make a long story short they would not let me ride in the ambulance with her to the hospital she was still coherent but when they did the ekg in the room where we were staying at I could tell the guy's eyes that she wasn't going to be much longer and I think the reason why they told me I couldn't ride with them was because for the same Theory I think that they didn't want my last memory of her to be of her fighting for her life and dying and I am thankful for that because I've had horrible nightmares about this whole thing and so after I made all the notifications and everything that day I went back to work two days later and I was told I could stay out as long as I needed to they were really really super awesome and amazing to me hell they were even responsible for giving me the money to get my wife buried because they donated money they put a pool in together to help me. The thing about it was is I don't know what upset me more the fact that I wish there was something more I could have done or the fact that I had to have a fucking cop show up to my door to tell me that she was gone even though I had already known it. So when I went back to work two days later it was very very hard because she used to work there too and she used to work at the podium on the weekends where she took the tickets and everything and told people where the theaters were and everything else and I wasn't there for 2 hours and I just doubled over it was just like a big flood of emotion but I made it that night but the hard part was with the weekends because those were the nights that she worked the most everybody loved my wife it worked up there and so I mean I didn't feel like I was so alone then the pandemic came I lost my job I lost my place where I was staying I had to go to my sister-in-law's house which was the biggest mistake of my life cuz I really found out what kind of people they were plus that's when I developed a curiosity for methamphetamine and then I met the bitch from hell not even 2 months later and keep in mind she was just supposed to be a companion we weren't like going to be boyfriend girlfriend cuz I still way too broke up about my wife's death that's all I wanted cuz I couldn't stand being lonely anymore just like I can't stand it now but she got me hooked on meth and I say she got me hooked because she kept bringing it around me knowing that I found something new that I really liked and I didn't ask her to bring it around I could have said no but this has to do with that 28 day period from June to July where she was drugging me putting the dope in my food in my drinks that's why I blame her.

Then after my ex got murdered at a house party I lost my sister-in-law and nephew and then my step daughter called me one day two weeks before Christmas to tell me that she lost her fiance her baby's daddy after he had a heart attack from A congenital heart defect that he had for 6 years the only bright spot of 2020 was my step daughter had a daughter of her own and that to this day that baby is my love bug

As where I'm at right now I'm going to be homeless by next weekend again unless I can come up with $250-300 dollars by Friday night it doesn't look like it's going to happen folks unless I can get some donations and get them quick I am taking donations right now if you can help I don't care if it's 5 10 15 20 $25 whatever it is it will help I don't expect nobody to give me the money all at once cuz I know a lot of people don't have that kind of money right now so just little donations will help right now I had to actually go to Walmart today and steal food God I hate myself for doing it I didn't get caught but still my conscience was getting the best of me for much of the evening I got enough food here to last me for 2 or 3 days if I end up getting to stay here but like I said it's not looking very good at this point I've tried local resources I've tried all kinds of Charities help and all they want you to do is hurry up and wait and I ain't got that kind of time and I told him that so I I'm asking for any help that anyone could give if I don't get if I can get at least $250 out of 400 I can go get me a motel room for the week and I'll get me by until I can come back here when my roommate comes back cuz then he'll have the money for the rent and everything else so I can come back here so I just need to really get by for a week I have not had any dope in nine days I'm going crazy but I need a place to live first before I can be doing that shit so I'll just have to deal with it if you want to help I'll give you my cash app I will put it at the end of this post for everybody so the last 18 months has not been fun I went to six suicide of Temps and I just been existing when before I had it all anyway so that's basically going to end this episode of a slice of my world I'm sorry if this was such a downer for a lot of people but you know I the more and more I feel like I tell my story easier everyday gets for me cuz I don't feel like I'm burying myself with all the emotion and having to keep it bottled up anyway I will talk to you y'all whenever I talk to you I may be on Hiatus for a little bit because I won't have a phone here after tomorrow unless I go someplace that has Wi-Fi and depending on my living situation I mean like I said I'm I'm hoping and praying somebody will be able to help out by donating a little bit of money to me so I can keep a place over my head somehow someway anyway y'all. I love you take care of yourself and I'll see you on the other side

Cashtag $jojo091069

PayPal

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Google pay

Message for those tags I left blank as I don't know them by heart yet

Love,. Sean

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whatdoesshedotothem · 4 years ago

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Saturday 28 April 1838: SH:7/ML/E/21/0085

7 ¾

2 40

fine but dull morning F42° at 9 and breakfast in about ¾ hour and then had William Mallinson and paid him for spouts at Little marsh, and had Mr. Bollard a civil young man (Ironmonger) about his bill from last midsummer to xmas – told him to make it out again in 3 – for Northgate Shibden hall and Little marsh – all this took me till 10 5 – then off with A- to Landymere – she rode and I walked by her side as far as the Lodge, she then road forwards and I stood a few minutes with Mr. Gray and Robert Mann who had proposed making the 3 large oblong sandstones do the draw-wall – Mr. Gray sketched and Roberts’ idea, and we were all satisfied – ordered to be done – at Landymere by the old Northowram road in ½ hour – found A- and SW. and Mr. Bentley – SW set out 1200 yards 30 yards along the hollow at 27ft. from the fence x 40 up the hill (including the present quarry hole) at 4ft. from the fence

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between the Sutherlands’ and Mesdames Lancashire and Brook – Bentley to come on Monday at 4pm to sign the rough draft of the agreement – terms explained to him and SW. 1200 yards as above named at 8d. per ft. of good stone – 8ft. thick? or 9ft. at present? – but no matter if thicker or thinner paid for at 9d. – the whole to be paid for in 3 years by equal ½ yearly payments – or rather 400 yards per annum to be paid for – and 4 years allowed to get it in – Road to the new road to be £5 per annum whether in one place or other – SW. to come on Tuesday and the site of the road to be settled – SW. did not think the little hole Joseph Mann is sinking, too high up in the field – 8 yards deep at present and only got down to the Crooked stone – the same beds (there will be 2) as Mrs. Aspinalls’ and Mr. Listers’ – not Bentley’s bed – A- then rode off to Holcans wood, and I walked by Wester croft and David Booths’ and Hipperholme to Hove edge to Messrs. Naylor Heap and Goodyears’ Day-quarry – mined underground like coal coming out to the Day – Mr. Luke Goodyear there ready to receive me – very civil went with me into the 3 places the 7 men (4 + 2 + 1) were working in a tram-road made of a plank deal cut into 6 and an iron edge laid on it, that the fall of a stone might not break the iron – an ass in the tram road and where one of the mines met it at a right angles an ingenious sort of platform moving on a pivot that would turn the load round into the tram road without trouble – this quarry in working 7 or 8 years – some good stone, but had not paid yet – In Mr. Macaulay’s land – Aspinall had it before at 2/6 per yard – gave it up – 8 yards of baring – the present firm took the whole field allowance being made for a ruttle (12? or 15? yards wide) – bed of stone from 2 to 6ft. thick – now about 6ft. – would not pay if not worked in this way – costs £20 a year in timber to support the roof – noticed a curious sort of white arbores cent moult-like moss or mould ramifying in places on the dark raggy or hard scaly roof – would be better for underground working if more baring – the bed of stone here is 4 yards I think he said above my bed in yew trees wood quarry – he walked with me across the Hove edge road into McAulays’ wood looking down up Southolme and at the style at the bottom of the steep past of the footpath shewed me my own bed at the bottom of a quarry hole there (close on the left going down) and his bed at the top of this hole – some talk about Mr. Richard Pollards’ stone – he had offered it to Messrs. Naylor and c° - they ought to have 500 yards at 1/. per yard, and then 2/. per yard as much as it was worth – thought of baring might be taken to A-‘s Hipperholme Lane ends quarry – would look again – I said I knew other people were thinking of the stone – mentioned my plan of laying a baring so as to make a road from A-‘s quarry mentioned also its being said in Hardcastles’ presence and mine that a road thro’ the wood would be worth more than £5 a year – (alluding in my own mind to SW’s valuation on pay Hardcastle for the damages done to his field in walling) – I had been perhaps ½ hour or nearly at the quarry – gave the 1st 4 men 2/. as a footing and the 2nd pair 1/. and of the last took no notice – arrived at the quarry about one or a little after and it was about 2 when I parted with Mr. Goodyear in Mr. Macaulays’ wood just above Mr. Sowdens’ when I saw my way clearly before me – then to Southolme – found Abraham Hemingway in his barn – went with him to see the piece (close up to Mr. Thomsons’ land) of ground proposed being given by Mr. Naylor for the bit to be taken at the bottom of his wood and top of my field to [found] his bur wall upon – Abraham thought 2 yards x 30 would be wanted – Mr. Naylor soon came to us – a very civil well mannered neat tidy looking middle aged man who was so civil and apparently anxious to do what was right and liberal that we agreed at once – but Abraham set a corner = 15x15 yards = 225 yards – the ground to be given very much more valuable certainly than that to be taken – Mr. N- agreed to give 60 yards of his against 60 yards of mine – if more wanted, I agreed to pay a [on?] consideration – SW. to measure and value and anyone else Mr. N- chose – then viewed the place where ground was wanted – told Mr. N- he should have what he wanted to make a good job – of course he would take as little as he could for his own sake as well as mine – but if he had occasion to take 2 good ash trees standing in my fence, these must be valued and placed to the account of the superior value of his land to that of mine – N- said he could give no writing – but there would be no trouble – all parties agreeable – the trustee Mr. Brook and all – and on the death of their wives, the estate must come into the market, and I should have no trouble – I said I had no fear about that – for Mr. SW. would measure and lay all down on the estate plan, and if Mr. N-‘s party should claim back from me, I should do the same from them and they might be glad to be quiet – or equity would settle the matter for us – Mr. N- expressed himself very much obliged – repeated it several times – said nobody could have behaved more handsomely – I merely said he might sometime have some opportunity of obliging me – sure he should not be slow to do it – he then mentioned Mr. Richard Pollards’ stone – Repeated the substance of all I had said to Mr. Goodyear N- thought the stone not worth more than 2/. a yard – said I had thrown a new light upon it – not aware anybody else was after the stone – mentioned no names but said other people had named it to me – mentioned also (which I had not named to Mr. Goodyear) my paying Mr. Pollard 1/. per yard for 40 yards and Simeon Shaw the tenant also 1/. per yard to keep me safe from the entrance in Mr. Pollards’ note that he must make the hole into the ground again – N- said RP. could give more title beyond his own life – but said I, his brother might sign also – it would be or might be made his interest to do so, and then all would be safe – mentioned also that I should like to have some of the ground after it was quarried and had named offering 2d. per yard to Mr. Goodyear – Mr. N- and I parted the best possible friends – he would see me again about the quarry – said I should be glad to see him at SH. then with Abraham Hemingway – mentioned Gill that I had seen this morning in the road [?] on this side of David Booths’ driving out of Goodyear’s cart – the man said he was cousin to Abraham H- and had married his daughter and wanted to take the Godley paddock – no! that impossible – could not do without it myself – he stood talking thought of setting up cart and horse of his own, and wanted a field – said I would think about it – that is, remember him if anything likely fell out – as he was so connected,

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I would mention to him to Miss Walker – but if he heard no more of it, he must conclude that we had neither of us anything to suit him – Inquired his character of Abraham H- it seems A- had nothing against him – a very good husband and respectable man, but 14 or 15 years older than his wife, and had as it were stolen her away, her parents being against the match – took her away in the night time – and it was clear Abraham had not forgiven this – said it was well to let them do for themselves – would not do much for them – the ash tree Abraham cut down a very good one – gave him all but about 6 or 8 ft. long of the thick part – this would cut into 4 capital axels – 2 for a large cart 2 for a smaller one said Abraham must keep this piece for me for about a year to season, and then I should not forget it, but perhaps get him to get it cut up for me and I should then bring it away – then stood talking to Abraham about the expense and profit of keeping horses – Abraham said they paid very little or sometimes not at all – for if he lost a horse or any accident happened it was long before this was recovered – Luke Goodyear said he had lost £40 last year – lost a horse worth £30 – Abraham owned he bought in his horses at under £30 on the average – but a good horse worth £30 now - £5 out of £30 down now than they would be 3 or 4 months hence – Abraham Haighs’ light bay that I have thought of worth £30 – 4 off – will grow – 15 ½ hands now – I said well! but he (Abraham) got his farming in (that ishis farm work done) into the bargain – yes! he said this was his profit – he gets his corn (3ds. [?] meal and oats) of Mr. Brook of Brighouse – calculates a horse to eat of this 8/. per week and 1 ½ st. of hay a day 1/. = 7/. per week – would not pay at all if he (Abraham) himself did not go with his horse to the delf – has seven horses – said I inquired because I thought of carting my own coal, or it would not pay –

calculates Abrahams’ horses at each 8/. + 7/. = 15/. per week and per pair 30/. + mans’ wages 15/. + wear and tear and blacksmiths bills etc. 5/. = total £2.10.0 per pair [co.]! I can manage it I think – sauntered home along the brook all the way by pinnel bridge and Dumb mill ditto to Mitham mill and home by Listerwick (the trenching in progress in Jonathan Mallinsons’ field) about 4 ½ - found A- dressing – ¼ hour with her – and she rode off to Cliff hill at 4 ¾ - had told Oddy of going with us to London – O- much pleased – promised to keep the secret till Monday – I not to go to church tomorrow but stay at home and get ready – wrote the whole of the above of today till now 6 ¼ - having just paid (per Robert Norton) George Naylors’ sawyers bill for larch rails and boards sawing – and now going down to pay Stephen Scholefield – wrote letters – had George Naylor (wright) and the 2 Manns and the gardener and paid Mr. Harper of the Stump X Inn the supper bill of 16th ultimo for Booths’ men all who had worked here – 21 of them – Paid Robert Mann, and gave Joseph £50 in a/c – had not time to settle with him and still had not done till after 8 – dinner at 8 10 – and had coffee with Mr. Gray in the dining and came upstairs at 10 pm paid Oddy her little bill she had paid for bran – at accounts and memoranda till 1 25 tonight fine but dull day or very little sun – much warmer than yesterday – not so much cold east wind – calm – F35° at 11 pm it was 7pm or after before I had despatched Sam booth with the letter bag containing my letter to ‘Messrs. Hammersley and c° Bankers London post paid’ asking them to get my passport visaed, it being my intention to embark in London for Antwerp tomorrow week and proceed thence by Brussels to Paris taking with me my niece Miss Walker and 2 servants (Susan Oddy and George Wood) – letter also to ‘Messrs. Pearce and Baxter coach-makers Longacre London Post paid’ expect being in London on Thursday evening next and immediately on arriving will send them the carriage to be examined and made ready for embarking on the following Sunday – shall be much obliged if they can provide me a neat clean chariot and good horses to do about town on Friday and Saturday’ – letter also to ‘Mrs. Hawkins 26 Dover street London Post paid’ expect being in London on Thursday evening to dinner – shall be glad if Mrs. Hawkins can take me in for 2 or 3 days – if not, much obliged to her to take me an apartment in the nearest comfortable family hotel – (myself Miss Walker and 2 servants as usual)

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angsty-aliens · 4 years ago

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Truck Stop Knives And Other Accessories Of Childhood (3/3)

Final chapter of my inner child fic which was supposed to be a short little one shot and has evolved into a verse.

Alien tech has manifested an inner child for Michael. And that child has a knife.

Thank you again to the many people who helped beta and brainstorm, especially @jocarthage, @haloud, and @foramomentonly. You can read the whole fic on Ao3

***

Morning came earlier than Michael wanted. Apparently the downside to sharing a bed with Alex was Alex still operated on military time, and although he certainly tried to let Michael sleep in, by 7am he couldn’t resist tracing a finger across an eyebrow and down his cheek. Michael didn’t mind. There were worse ways to be woken up, then the gentle caress of Alex Manes touching his face.

At some point in the night, Alex ended up curled loosely against the curve of Michael’s back. He fit perfectly and it felt right. Michael could feel the swell of his cock slotted against the back of his boxer briefs, and he couldn’t help but arch back slightly, chasing the feeling. Alex chuckled, and tugged Michael flat on his back so he could peer down at him, propped up on an elbow.

“Hands above the waist?”

Michael leered with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle, “pretty sure your hands were above my waist.”

Alex laughed, “always gotta find the loophole, Guerin.”

They kissed softly, noses bumping together in their eagerness.

After a few minutes of lazy making out, Alex reluctantly separated. “Do we think Mikey is still asleep?”

Michael thunked his head back against the pillow with a sigh, “Mikey is definitely not still asleep. I never slept through the night in a new placement. Even though he should KNOW he’s safe here with me, I guarantee he’s been awake for hours.”

“Should I be worried about my cabin?”

“He’s not gonna burn down your cabin, Alex.”

Alex tried to sooth him, “I know that. I’m not worried about that.”

Michael grudgingly sat up and retrieved his pants from the floor. “Only one way to see…”

It took them a few minutes for Alex to attach his prosthetic and for them to get dressed. Alex tried to exit the bedroom quietly in case Michael was wrong about the boy sleeping, but sure enough, the kid was fully dressed and reassembling the toaster on his coffee table. The couch had been stripped of all bedding, and every quilt was folded neatly and tucked unobtrusively to the side. Alex’s laundry basket was full of neatly folded clothing. The boy obviously emptied the dryer when he woke up, and tried to tidy up on his own. He did a good job. A better job than Alex expected any eleven year old to do. He had practice at this.

Michael tousled the kid’s hair on the way to the kitchen, “do you want oatmeal for breakfast or pizza?”

The kid was focused on his task, and carefully screwed in part of the toaster, “pizza!”

Alex was distracted, “uh, oatmeal.” He looked around again, “thank you Mikey for cleaning up. You didn’t have to do that. I didn’t expect you to do that.”

The screwdriver hit the table as the boy looked up in alarm, “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have touched your stuff.”

“No, no it’s okay. I appreciate that you folded the laundry. You just didn’t NEED to do that. You’re a guest.” Alex tried to think of a way to salvage this exchange because the boy was definitely panicking, thinking he was in trouble. “If you want to help, we can give you chores. We can all share the chores. How does that sound?”

Mikey carefully picked the screwdriver back up again, “... I can do chores.”

Alex nodded solemnly at Mikey, a bargain struck, and he walked into the kitchen to kiss the back of Guerin’s neck, while hugging him from behind. “Why is he being a Stepford Wife?”

Michael continued to slowly move about the kitchen to heat up Alex’s oatmeal, while Alex held him like a limpet. “He promised to be nice to you.”

“Why is he tidier than you are? You leave your clothing everywhere and he’s cleaned everything up like I hired a maid service.”

Michael ran a soothing hand across Alex’s arms, locked tightly across his stomach. “Some houses liked that. Some houses required it. Religious freaks definitely required it. He’s just covering his bases. Don’t make it a big deal.”

Alex kissed his neck again and rubbed his cold nose into Michael’s curls, “I’m glad you leave messes. It drives me crazy sometimes, but I’m glad you’re comfortable enough to leave a mess.”

Michael pulled two cold slices of pizza out of the fridge and laughed, “thanks?”

Alex turned him in his arms so he was hugging him properly. Usually Michael was the clingy one, but the kid rattled him. Alex wanted affection dammit.

The two men stood in the middle of the kitchen, arms tight around each other when the kid waltzed in and grabbed his slice of cold pizza. The boy smirked at Michael, “good slumber party, huh?”

Michael raised a middle finger as the kid laughed.

Mikey smirked, “Just bros being bros! Totally platonic!”

And with his hands full of pizza, the boy disappeared back into the living room to finish working on the toaster.

With a sigh, Michael shrugged, “well he said he’d TRY to be nicer.”

***

Having an eleven year old alien around the house was both simpler and more complicated than Alex anticipated. The kid didn’t leave any big messes. He was actually obsessively clean. It was like there was no kid there at all. If Alex didn’t watch him sit at the coffee table, silently putting his toaster back together with the crust of cold pizza sticking out of the side of his mouth like a cigar, Alex could almost believe he was alone. Mikey was silent and contained. He hunched up small like he didn’t think he deserved to take up too much space. Apparently being ‘nice’ meant disappearing.

Guerin on the other hand left his boots kicked into a corner of his bedroom. His hat was on top of a lamp. His side of the bed was a rumpled mess. And he was currently humming a country song enthusiastically and off key. Alex had no question where Michael was at all times. He could close his eyes and still know, because Michael was an ever moving force of nature. Even when he tried to sit still, his knee bounced, his head swayed, his hands tapped out tunes on the arm rest. He was full of kinesthetic energy.

The complicated part of having an eleven year old alien in the house was Alex was pretty sure his couch cushions were hiding a myriad of snacks. The kid thought he was subtle, but he kept reaching between the seat cushions and nodding to himself with satisfaction. Michael insisted Alex leave it be. Apparently no conversations were needed about his couch becoming a vending machine.

The boy also didn’t have the habits most kids were taught at a very young age. Alex had to herd him into the bathroom to brush his teeth. And when Michael argued that tooth brushing was only required when his breath got nasty, Alex herded his boyfriend into the bathroom too. They could brush teeth together, like a family. A weird little Lilo and Stitch family.

Mikey had only been at the cabin for two days, but Alex couldn’t imagine a time when he didn’t exist. Isobel brought a bag of clothing and necessities from Walmart and he shrunk smaller and smaller every time she pulled out a new item, arms curled around his stomach. Like he was being buried under the invisible weight of the clothing. A new toothbrush made his shoulder hunch up to his ears, Star Wars themed pajamas had him hugging his knees to his chest, the new shoes made him tuck his chin into his arms and shrink. Michael had hugged his sister and ushered her out of the cabin before the kid could diminish any further.

Isobel meant well. “They’re Star Wars pajamas! The same design as Luke Skywalker’s flight suit! Because you always talked about wanting to see the stars.”

She meant so well.

Later Michael whispered that the kid was feeling the debt. He wasn’t used to people being nice to him without an ulterior motive. There was a currency to kindness and the boy wasn’t sure when the bill would come or what they’d ask of him. It reminded Alex of being seventeen in his father’s shed, handing Michael his brother’s guitar and watching his guard go up.

“Sometimes people can be nice for no reason.”

“Not in my experience.”

Things were clicking into place. An equation finally making sense. And all he could do was hug Michael a little tighter and hope he could give Mikey a better experience for as long as they had him.

The boy presented him with his toaster. Alex was positive the toaster was never really broken. The side was a bit dinged up from when it got knocked off the counter a few months ago. And the knob was stuck on 4, but Alex liked 4. It meant his toast was dark brown which was fine. It was perfectly adequate. He could live with 4. But now the knob turned freely, giving him every option of crispiness for his toast. And the ding had been buffed out. The kid made the toaster work like new. When Alex told him that, Mikey stood up straighter. The boy tried not to smile at the praise. In a fit of bravery, Alex reached out to toustle his hair like he watched Michael do, and the boy closed his eyes for a second and actually grinned. He could only bear Alex’s attention for a second before running off into the backyard. Like he wasn’t sure what to do with praise. It didn’t fit him comfortably, and he had to run away. Alex knew that feeling. Jesse Manes didn’t believe in praise either. Alex remembered the discomfort the first time a PE teacher congratulated him on his endurance. It felt like the comments had to be mocking. He was being made fun of. It took a long time to realize the coach was being genuine.

Michael sat next to him on the couch and kissed his cheek. “What are we doing, Alex?”

“I have no idea. I didn’t really write this into my planner. I guess we’re winging it.”

“Are we moving too fast? We went from not dating, to dating, to playing house with an eleven year old. I don’t want to ruin this.”

Alex covered Michael’s hand with his own, “We’ve been on and off for a decade. It’s not like we’re strangers. I think keeping things PG for a while between us is a good idea, but we can watch Mikey and it won’t ruin anything.”

The kid was running in circles in the backyard. If there was a game, Alex couldn’t figure it out. It just looked like circles for the sake of circles. Making himself dizzy enough to fall down.

Michael’s phone started to buzz. Who would call instead of text? The name “Liz Ortecho” flashed and he reluctantly swiped to answer.

Liz’s voice came out in a rush, “Don’t be mad.” “Elizabeth Ortecho, no good news ever came after the statement - don't be mad.”

Liz continued, “Okay I know we were going to wait to mess with the disk until we could be at the lab together, but I…”

Michael scrubbed a hand over his face, “Oh god Liz, what did you do?”

“It’s not bad! Hey, put me on speakerphone so I don’t have to repeat this to Alex later.”

Michael placed the phone between them and pushed a button.

“You’re on speaker,” Alex was puzzled but supportive, “Liz are you okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. I was pressing different glyphs on the disk and I think I may have accidentally accessed a user manual. Kind of. It sort of was like a psychic connection, either I accessed a user manual, or it caused me to have a psychotic break.”

“Liz.” Alex looked at Michael in alarm.

Her voice took on a higher pitch, “It’s fine! I took notes!”

Michael rolled his eyes, “THAT is not the part we’re worried about!”

Liz ignored them, “Okay so this is what I wrote down: the disk IS a therapy tool. Its intended purpose is to encourage the patient to reconnect with a difficult point in their life and by interacting with the construct the patient develops a healthier understanding of their past.”

Michael interrupted her, “Liz I hope this thing didn’t give you brain cancer.”

“Shut up.”

“Or worse, you could have accidentally triggered your own mini Ortecho.”

Irritation colored her voice, “Michael, let me finish. The connection wasn’t in English. It was all concepts, so I’m not sure I’m translating it right. Mikey is real. He’s a real kid and he’ll age like a real kid. You’ve gotta make peace with yourself, forgive yourself, and when you’re ready you both hold onto the disk and you meld back together. It doesn’t hurt him. He’s part of you. And if you never touch the disk again, Mikey stays. He’ll grow up like any normal child. We should probably run tests on both of you though, just to see. Kyle can give you both a physical.”

Michael shook his head, “The kid is NOT going to like Valenti.”

Liz insisted, “Kyle’s great with kids. It’ll be fine.”

“Your funeral.”

Alex elbowed Michael, “Okay so why didn’t the disk meld them back together when they both touched it a few days ago?”

Liz said, “It won’t work until Michael deals with his childhood trauma.”

Michael laughed, “Sure, I can just deal with my trauma. I��ll go see a therapist and talk about my abandonment issues that began when my family crash landed in Roswell in 1947. Easy.”

Alex put a comforting hand on his shoulder, “You could talk to a therapist and leave out the alien details. You were abandoned. Your siblings were adopted and you weren’t. You survived a string of abusive foster homes. These are all human problems.”

Michael shrugged, dislodging the hand, “Therapists are expensive. You can’t just go talk to one. It’s cheaper to drink beer.”

Liz’s voice piped up through the cell phone, “Super healthy coping mechanism, Michael.”

Michael deflected, “So ANYWAY, if we don’t touch the disk, Mikey stays? And if we do touch the disk after I sell an alien kidney to talk to a shrink, then Mikey gets sucked back into me?”

He could almost hear the grimace in her voice, “Gross way to put it, but yes.”

“Okay thanks Ortecho. Don’t push anymore buttons on the disk. Max would cry if your brain melted.” Michael hung up the phone, turned to Alex and interlaced their fingers, “I can always take him back to the airstream. We can get out of your hair. I don’t know how long he’ll be here. You don’t just get over a shitty childhood in a day and go eat ice cream.”

Alex squeezed his hand, “I want you to stay here. I want you both to stay here. We can always clean out the extra bedroom. Right now it’s full of boxes from when I packed up Jim’s stuff. I can ask Kyle to go through it and keep what he wants. It’d be easy to turn that back into a bedroom.”

“Not your creepy murder basement?”

“Definitely not the creepy murder basement.” Alex considered, “Although actually I could probably store the boxes in there!”

Alex nodded and continued, “If the kid is here for longer than a week, we can make long term plans. I can forge paperwork. Say you’re the father and you didn’t know about him. His mother moved out of Roswell and dropped him off out of the blue.”

“I would have been sixteen or seventeen when I slept with the mother. A teenage father, how scandalous… but sort of on brand for me.”

“Maybe she was a tourist? Not anyone any of the locals would remember.”

Michael laughed, “Okay so Mikey is the result of a hook up between teenage me, and an adult out of town tourist. Yeah, this is definitely sounding like something I’d do.”

Alex was starting to become more comfortable with this plan. He loved having a plan. “So we’d need a name. Michael is a super common name and maybe she liked you enough to give him your first name, but he’d need a new last name.”

“Truman. My mom’s name was Nora Truman. I don’t care what name his fake mom has, and I don’t really want people thinking I slept with someone named Nora Truman, but he could be Michael Truman. I could have been Michael Truman if my mom got me out of the pods.”

Alex watched the boy fall down and get back up to run even tighter circles. “Maybe we can let Mikey pick out his fake mom’s name. Let him have some sort of agency, and feel involved in these choices. Are you okay with me helping you?”

“Like am I okay with you co-parenting my weird alien inner child?” Michael raised an eyebrow, “This week is so weird. Yes. Please, please help me. I barely kept myself alive for twenty one years on my own. I don’t trust myself to watch TWO of me.”

Alex tugged him closer, “you did a great job on your own. And you’d do a great job now. You just shouldn’t have HAD to have done it alone as a kid, and I don’t want you to be alone now. I want to help. I don’t think we should enroll him in school anytime soon. We should try and figure out more. But I like having some sort of idea of where we’re going here.”

“You and me, and my feral little monster who has a knife”

“Wait, he has a knife?” Alex sat up.

“Oh yeah. I didn’t mention that? It’s a pocketknife. I gave it back to him because I knew he wouldn’t stab you, and you could disarm him if he tried.” Michael appeased, “Which he won’t. I promise he won’t stab you.”

“He’s not a little monster.” Michael seemed distracted so Alex tugged on a curl to get his attention and repeated, “He’s not a little monster. And YOU’RE not a little monster. He’s a kid and we’re gonna make sure he eats a vegetable every once in awhile, and goes to sleep at a decent hour. We can do this.”

“I mean we’re already doing a better job than any of my foster homes.”

“That bar is pretty low.”

“And yet it exists.”

They eased back on the couch and watched Mikey play.

***

Michael leaned against the backdoor watching his shrinky dink alien run. The kid was playing some sort of weird running game with rules only he knew, and that Michael definitely didn’t remember. One foot managed to get hooked behind the other and the kid landed hard on his ass. Michael winced in sympathy. “Is your butt okay?”

The kid retorted, “is your BRAIN okay?

Michael shrugged, “If your butt hurts we can get Max to heal it. We don’t let him use his powers much anymore since I turned him into a cyborg with an alien pacemaker, but he could heal your butt. You’d just end up with a shiny silver handprint… on your butt. And Max could spy on your feelings, and you’d get to wallow in his poetic angst and guilt.”

The kid narrowed his eyes, “I can’t even tell if you’re kidding. Is that real? Max can heal? But with a handprint and psychic link?”

“Yep.”

Mikey huffed in irritation, “Pretty sure you’re making stuff up, but whatever. What can Isobel do? Fly but she poops alien glitter as a side effect?”

“You should DEFINITELY tell Isobel your theories.” Michael laughed, “But no, she can get into people's brains and influence them.”

Mikey side eyed him, “does she do that to us?”

“No. She promised. Sometimes she can get inside my head but she promises she won’t try to influence us. I don’t even know if she can. She’s only tried the brain thing when she needed to tell me something she couldn’t say out loud.” Michael grimaced, “I didn’t like it. She doesn’t do it often. Apparently our brain is tough and she usually has to puke if she tries anything. SHE says it’s because we’re guarded and paranoid. I think it’s because we’re awesome.”

Michael offered up a hand to high five and the kid pushed past him to the kitchen instead. Ouch.

The kid was getting a glass of water and rummaging around the fridge which made Michael grin. It took awhile to get Mikey to stop asking permission for every single thing. But Michael remembered all the homes that had strict rules about the kitchen. The religious zealots had a lock on the fridge to discourage their charges from greed. Apparently a kid being hungry was the mortal sin of gluttony.

With his head still in the fridge the kid absentminded asked, “Max is a cyborg?”

“He ended up with a heart issue. Long story. I made him a pacemaker and he’s fine now.” Michael wrinkled his nose, “Mostly.”

Mikey kicked the door shut with his hands full of food. “That’s good. Isobel would miss him if something happened to him.”

Michael pulled down a plate to help the boy make a sandwich, “Yeah, Isobel would miss him.”

The two of them stood side by side making sandwiches. It was good. Eating when hungry. Michael had gotten so used to caregivers forgetting to feed him, that he trained himself to ignore hunger. Unless it was really bad, it didn’t bother him so much anymore. Grabbing a granola bar for breakfast and then working straight through until seven or eight pm wasn’t unusual. It just seemed like a waste of energy to worry about what was for lunch when for so many years there was no lunch. Michael grew up loving school. Not only was it a place he excelled, but he also got breakfast and lunch every day there. He never understood the jokes about how gross cafeteria food was. For him, it was the closest thing to a home cooked meal he was ever gonna get. A sloppy joe served by Mrs. Riley every wednesday at New Roswell High, was his version of a dinner cooked by mom. Summers and Winter break were hard. No school meant no little plastic trays with cartons of chocolate milk and plastic silverware. School was a good place. Michael had liked school.

He cut the sandwiches in half like he’d watched Alex do. It seemed nicer that way. The kid carefully took his plate with two hands. No danger of dropping it. And Michael grabbed plates for himself and Alex, and took them to the table. Lunch. Yet another new thing Michael was trying.

They’d have to figure out what to do the longer Mikey stayed. Michael and Alex both took the day off of work, but the kid would need to go somewhere during the day starting soon. Maybe Max or Isobel. Max was still doing night shifts at the Pony and Isobel was taking a sabbatical from her event planning business. If they went public with the story that Mikey was Michael’s son, he could hang out in the junkyard with him. Michael could fix cars and there were a thousand things the kid could play with. Most foster homes didn’t let Michael fiddle with things. But he loved taking stuff apart and putting it back together. A junkyard was a perfect playground for an engineering genius.

Mikey and Alex were having an animated conversation about the merits of Ninja Turtles. Apparently Alex thought Leonardo was the best because he was the leader and was the most focused. Mikey insisted it was Michelangelo because of… pizza. And honestly, Michael had to agree. Pizza always wins. He grinned at his boys and took another huge bite of his sandwich. Maybe this would work after all.

***

Sleeping in Alex’s bed was never going to get old. There was a Michael shaped divot on the right side of the mattress. Even when he got up, he could see the impression of his body. Alex insisted this meant the mattress was shitty and he needed a new one, but Michael liked the evidence he was there.

He curled up closer to Alex and let his hand rest on his hip, technically breaking the hands above the waist rule but so long as his hand didn’t move, it seemed safe enough. His thumb fit perfectly in the hollow of Alex’s hip. He had rubbed a gentle circle when the part of his brain connected to Mikey pinged a distress call again. With a sigh he climbed out of bed, and hoped he didn’t wake Alex as he left.

The kid was sitting up on the couch wrapped in a quilt. Mikey picked at a loose thread on the knee of his Star Wars pajamas. Michael sat next to him and let him lean his weight against his side.

“Bad dream?”

The kid shrugged and pulled his knees up to his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Mikey shook his head. A few minutes later he blurted, “I heard you and Alex.”

“Heard us what?”

Mikey rocked a little in place, “Talking about how the disk works. How you gotta talk about your emotions so we meld together like a transformer, Mega-Michael, or you’re stuck with me.”

Michael protested, “I don’t have to talk about my emotions.”

“Sometimes you gotta share your fart with the world. You keep it all squeezed up in your butt and it gives you a stomach ache. You just gotta let it out to feel better.”

“My emotions aren’t farts.” Michael crossed his arms defensively.

“But your face is a fart,”

“We have the same face!”

The kid smirked, “Nah, I look awesome. You look constipated.”

Mikey became quiet and serious. He pressed his body against Michael’s side, trying to become a Mega-Michael without alien technology. “You gotta be okay with the bad stuff that happened to us. You’ve gotta… not blame me.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“You blame yourself. I blame me. Bad things happened everywhere we went. We were the only constant factor in the experiment, therefore we’re the variable at fault. It’s just science.”

Michael wrapped both arms around the kid, “I don’t blame you.”

The boy huffed, “You’re stuck with me for awhile. If we don’t touch the disk, you could be stuck with me forever.”

Michael rested his chin on the kid’s head, “That wouldn’t totally suck.”

Mikey closed his eyes, “Alex might not be a fan of this plan.”

“Alex likes this plan.” The Michaels looked up as Alex spoke with a smile. At some point he wandered into the hallway unnoticed. His shoulder was against the wall and he leaned heavily on his crutch. He had been eavesdropping.

The kid tried to push himself out of Michael’s hug, but Michael just squeezed him tighter.

Mikey insisted, “You won’t like me. I’m a mess.”

Alex sat on the other side of him and wrapped an arm around his boys, “I like messes.”

“No you don’t. You’re clean. You make your bed perfectly every morning and you always do your dishes. You’d get tired of me. I’m loud.”

“The cabin was too quiet anyway.”

“I’m… I’m mean. I’ll say mean things.”

Alex ran a hand through the boy’s curls, “It’s okay. You can say mean things and we’ll still like you. You can still stay here. We’re choosing you. We want you to stay.”

Mikey tried to push at the arms embracing him. He kicked at Michael as his eyes welled up, “I’m gonna break all the stuff you like!”

Michael winced as a bony heel caught his thigh, “Yeah but we can fix it. Anything you break we can fix together.”

It was like someone cut the strings of a dancing marionette. The kid lost all fight and fat tear drops streamed down his face to his horror. “You’re gonna change your mind.”

Michael looked at Alex, a silent conversation happening above the boy’s head. Michael wiped a glob of snot off the kid’s face with the hem of his shirt. “We’re picking you. On purpose. We want you to stay. Do you want to stay?”

Mikey took a great shuddering breath and nodded.

Alex thumbed away a tear, “Then as long as you want us, we want to keep you.”

It wasn’t a conventional family. It wasn’t something Michael ever thought he’d have. But Michael, Alex, and Mikey could pick each other. That was a thing they could do. And they’d be okay.

#my fic #inner child fic #rnm fic #michael guerin fic #michael guerin #alex manes #feral stabby baby #cw child abuse #tw child abuse #roswell new mexico fic #deaging #kind of #truck stop knives and other accessories of childhood

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mycupoffanfiction · 5 years ago

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A Real Sweet Guy Part 6

A biker!Bucky x shy!Reader Series

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

The reader lives on the same street as Bucky, the leader of a biker gang, which everyone in her building is afraid of, except for her. When Bucky makes a simple act of kidness to the reader, she realises she was right to not be afraid of him.

Warnings: Fluff, language, sadness.

Word count: Approx 4000

Masterlist

Tag lists are open.

Ooof okay, this one took a while! I won’t lie, I’m not 100% happy with it and writing His Favourite Gal burnt me out a little since this series and HFG both usually have long chapters. I’m sorry I took some time to focus on oneshots and smaller things for a while, it was just my way of getting back into the swing of a larger series!

I really hope you enjoy this part, it’s fairly tame this time around, the next one will be very cute and fluffy!

Enjoy your week 💕💕💕💕

__________________________

“Y’know, Stevie’s gonna be jealous.” Bucky chuckled, looking down at you as you cut a slice of your homemade apple pie. “We’ll save him a slice.” You shrugged, grinning as you plopped a piece onto a small plate and slid it across the table, the older woman beaming at you. “Thank you, dear.” She looked delighted, taking in the cinnamony apple smell. “You’re welcome, Mrs Barnes.” You mirror her smile. “Please, Winnifred is fine, dear.” She insisted on you using her first name, but you were just so nervous at meeting Bucky’s mum that you’d been defaulting to her last name.

“You said you didn’t talk much to your family.” Winnifred struck conversation as Bucky took over for you, slicing you a piece that was way too big for you. “Yeah, we uh- we don’t get along.” You nodded; eyes trained on your apple pie. You glanced across to Bucky, the contrast of him in his red flannel shirt, ripped jeans and heavy combat boots, hair down and messy against Mrs Barnes’ tidy, florally decorated home was quite amusing. “I don’t have any close family.” You added, Bucky’s hand coming down to rest on your knee. “But you have the Commandos, sweetheart.” Bucky grinned. That you did. They were the best family you could have asked for and in truth, they were better than your real family ever were. No one ever judged you, no one was mean to you, you were never singled out or bullied. Everyone treated you fairly and with so much love and compassion.

Just the other day Steve had a call from Peter, the kid had gotten picked on at school and you and Steve spent about an hour on the phone to him to try and calm him down until his adoptive parents, Pepper and Tony got home from the diner. You were all as close knit as it came, even friends or family of members were always welcome, like Pietro was. He’d often join outings to Pepper’s diner or take walks with you and Wanda and sometimes even hang out with some of the guys too.

“James tells me you work at the local bookshop; I was hoping I might have recognised you.” Mrs Barnes smiled as she dug her spoon into the apple pie, taking a bite and nodding in approval. “I do, I love it there, although the shop can be a little trying.” You smiled, it was true, you did love the shop and while you had a tendency to complain about rude customers and how much the day drags or how exhausting it is sometimes, you still loved it. It was like a second home to you and your manager George had been so good to you while you had worked there. “Delicious pie, dear. I’m not sure Steve will get any.” She joked, causing you to giggle in response. “You’ll have to give me the recipe, perhaps we can bake together.” Mrs Barnes suggested and you grinned at the idea. “I’d love to.” You smiled, glancing across at your boyfriend.

“Now, let me show you some photos of James when he was little.” Mrs Barnes laughed as she reached behind her for the bookcase. “Maaaa.” Bucky groaned, his cheeks lighting up with a bright red as he dropped his face into his hand.

“So does Mrs Barnes like you?” Wanda asked down the phone as you walked down the sidewalk, rain pattering down onto your coat hood. “I think so, she seemed happy when I met her, even hugged me when I left.” You smiled to yourself, thinking back to your meeting with Bucky’s mum. “Can’t believe he never told me his first name was James.” You laughed, having taken it light heartedly. You had been seriously confused when Mrs Barnes had referred to your biker boyfriend as James instead of Bucky, but you were so used to his nickname now that you weren’t sure that you could see yourself using his real first name much.

“Barnes said you made her apple pie. Why didn’t you give us apple pie when you met us for the first time?” Wanda teased. “Hey, I gave you cookies.” You argued, a smile on your lips. Your smile quickly dropped when you stepped right into a puddle, soaking through your shoe. “Fuck me.” You hissed under your breath, shaking the water off, but it was no use, your sneaker was totally soaked. You turned the corner, Wanda giggling down the line as you explained what had just happened. “I gotta go, Wanda. Maybe I’ll have customers today.” You scoffed as you approached the bookshop, ready to start your shift. “Alright, text me when you get home.” Wanda said her goodbyes to you before hanging up and you heaved a sigh as you approached.

The rain came down heavier, the wind picking up. The storm was coming. Your hood flew back, exposing your freshly washed and dried hair to the angry elements. You barely paid attention when you reached the shop front, reaching out for the door and smacking right into it as you had expected it to open, but it was locked up tight. You let out a frustrated humph as another strong gust of wind almost pushed you off balance as you rummaged around in your pocket for your keys. A deep rumble of thunder rolled across the heavy storm clouds above, rain getting heavier. You didn’t bother putting your hood back up since you’d be indoors in a second. Or so you thought. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself. The keyhole was covered by a piece of wood nailed to the door. It was at that moment that you stepped back and noticed it. Oh. Oh shit.

Big, bold letters. In a chunky red marker. Your heart sank as your backpack dug into your shoulders, your hand clutching at the wet strap, rain lashing down onto your shoulders and head as you stand completely still in the middle of the pavement. Your hair glued itself to your face, your hood having fallen down a few minutes ago. The cold wind whipped down the street, giving you a shivering chill, arms breaking out into goose bumps, ears hurting with the cold.

OUT OF BUSINESS.

Why didn’t your boss tell you? To be honest, you’d sort of seen it coming, with the tiny amount of custom your shop had received in the last few months. Still, it made your heart sink, down, down into the pit of your stomach. You had loved working at the bookstore, it was a safe haven. How could you not love it? But it was gone now. How would you pay your bills? Would you even be able to stay in town to find a new job? How would that affect things?

“George?” You squeaked out; phone pressed against your ear as the line crackled on the other end. “(Y/n), I am so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Your manager sighed. “Is it really closed forever?” You asked, voice sad as you stared at the front door, letting the rain drench you as you shivered uncontrollably from the cold. “Sadly, yes. I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you.” He responded. “It’s alright.” You huffed. “I’ve got to go, make sure you drop off your keys to the shop over the next couple of days.” George reminded you before hanging up and you were left in silence again. The traffic behind you seemed to just drown out into a low hum. The only sounds you could really hear were the rain and a couple of pairs of heavy footsteps walking around behind you, splashing against the wet pavement.

“(Y/n)?” A well-spoken voice came from behind you and you quickly whipped around to see Loki and Thor paused in their step on the sidewalk. “What are you doing out here in the pouring rain? You’ll catch a cold dear.” Loki fussed, rushing to your side and covering you with his umbrella. When you didn’t answer, heart caught in your throat as the realisation hit you, Loki noticed. He noticed how your shoulders dropped, your head hanging a little, the odd sniffle here and there as you kept your emotions at bay. “Whatever is the matter, darling?” Loki asked, glancing over his shoulder at Thor to motion him over, heavy hands coming to rest on your shoulders, the towering man stepping up behind you, chest brushing against your back. You didn’t say anything, but Loki noticed before you could even have a chance to force yourself to speak. He saw where your eyes were glued to. “Oh.” Loki said just above a whisper. “Oh (Y/n), I am so sorry.” He murmured, pulling you into a gentle hug, Thor moving around the side to inspect the sign on the door.

“Why would they not tell you?” Thor pondered, finger pressed up against the window at the sign, head turning to look at you, although his hood blocked his face a little, wisps of blonde hair shifting slightly in the wind, the tips of his long hair getting damp from the rain as they stuck out of the edges of his hood. “Never mind that now, let’s get her somewhere warm, brother.” Loki coaxed you along with him, arm wrapped around you as Thor fell into step with you both, leaving you sandwiched between the two brothers.

“Let’s walk you to the café across the road, you need to warm up before you catch a cold small one.” Thor’s large hand rested in the middle of your bad as you pressed yourself against his side, the warmth radiating off his figure already starting to warm you up. “Didn’t you see Bucky this morning? Does he know?” Loki questioned as you walked down the street together. “I saw him before he went to work, we went to meet his mum. And no, he doesn’t know.” You shook your head. This was bad. It took you so long just to find this job, you were finally at a point where you were comfortable in your life and now this. The constant worry of having to move to find a job was looming over your head. You could hear the two brothers talking, but it was as if their voices were muffled.

“There you go, small one.” You were suddenly sat down in the coffee shop, you didn’t even recall walking in and sitting down, but you were here. Thor slid a large cup of hot coffee across the table to you, dropping a few sachets of sugar onto the table next to your cup. Loki settled down opposite you with a cup of tea, Thor clutching a cup of coffee in his hand as he pulled out his chair roughly. “Thank you.” You said quietly, peeling your soaked coat off your cold form. “Darling, take my jumper.” Loki spoke softly, getting up from his seat to take off and give you his woollen jumper. You gladly took it, thanking him as you did and pulled it over your head, the length of the sleeves and the body on you making you smile. You began pouring sugar into your drink and stirring as the two brothers quietly watched you.

“I called Barnes on our way over, I tried telling you but you zoned out a bit.” Loki tried to catch your eye contact. “What did he say?” You asked. “He said we should take you to your apartment and he’d come over during his lunch break.” Loki explained. “Okay.” You mumbled into your mug, bringing the rim close to your lips to take a sip of the warm, comforting liquid. “Will you stay with me? I get it if you’re both busy.” You murmured. “We’ll stay with you, small one.” Thor gripped your shoulders, gently squeezing.

“I don’t know what to do.” You huffed; eyes trained on your coffee. “The bookshop was my livelihood.” You sniffled, eyes feeling watery as you let your emotions bubble up to the surface. You took another sip of your coffee, emotions breaking the dam as hot tears rolled down your cheeks. “Oh, (Y/n).” Thor whispered, pulling his chair around to your side “It’ll be alright, darling. I don’t think you’ll be jobless for long, especially since the head of a biker gang is your boyfriend, I’m sure he could pull a few strings, maybe a favour or two.” Loki spoke softly to you as Thor’s arm draped around your shoulder as you leaned into his side.

After you finished your coffee, warmed up a bit and waited for the rain to die down, the three of your made your way back to your apartment. You kicked off your wet shoes, Loki helping by going to get you some towels from the cupboard while Thor fiddled with your TV, getting something on for the three of you to watch and preparing blankets on the sofa. Whatever the two of them had been doing before they came across you was obviously considered less important than looking after you, and while you felt a little guilty for consuming their morning with your issues, neither of them seemed to mind at all.

You sat on the sofa, squished between the two brothers, who at this point were like your own two siblings while Tangled played on the TV. Thor seemed absolutely taken by the movie and you quickly realised this was absolutely not the first time he’d seen it when you caught a glimpse of him mouthing the words, not to a song, but to an entire scene of the movie.

You didn’t even notice when Loki got up to open the door for the two men, you and Thor completely captivated by the movie. It was only when Bucky came to sit beside you, the smell of leather, car oil and his woody, spiced cologne catching your attention. “Hey darlin’.” Bucky’s voice was low and husky, the kind tone he used melted you as you turned to see your boyfriend. Although you’d seen him that morning, it felt like it had been too long with the sadness that came with your bookshop shutting down. Your heart leapt into your throat as you looked up into his deep blue eyes, his arm resting on the sofa behind you, his metal hand on his thigh as he sat facing you. His leather jacket was still on, hair thrown back in a messy low bun, stubble thick and soon to be shaven again. Grease marks around his forehead and some in his hair, you knew he’d have trouble getting that out later when he showered.

“Did Loki tell you what happened?” You asked softly, not wanting to disturb Thor as he enthusiastically mouthed a song that was playing on screen. “Not in detail, but I know the bookshop got shut down, your manager didn’t tell you and you found out from a sign on the shop front and Loki and Thor found you absolutely soaked.” Bucky gave you a brief rundown of what Loki had told him and you nodded. “I’m so screwed.” You whispered to yourself, not really intending to say that out loud. “No, you’re not.” Bucky shook his head. “Absolutely not, sweetie.” Steve cut in, standing behind the sofa, his hand coming down onto your shoulder.

“You can come and work at the repair shop for the time being so you can pay your rent until you get back on your feet if you like.” Steve said as he brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, Bucky swiping his hand away to do it properly. “Really?” You sounded surprised, tears still in your eyes. You’d been on the edge of tears for a few minutes, but the dam broke and hot tears spilled over your cheeks. “You’d do that?” You squeaked out. Of course you could refuse, but why would you? “Or Pep said she might be able to open up a position for you down at the diner. Her and Tony don’t have enough staff with it being on the entry road to the town and all.” Bucky interrupted. “But in the meantime, while they open up something for you, you could help down at the shop for a few weeks if you like. We got an overload of paperwork and marketing needing doing and we need someone, doll.” Bucky cupped your cheek gently, wiping your outburst of tears away with the pads of his thumbs as his hands cradled your face.

It wasn’t long after that, that Bucky and Steve left to have lunch and go back to work, promising to take you out to the diner later for milkshakes and dinner with anyone who would come.

“Small one, Barnes loves you more than anyone I’ve ever seen him around.” Thor smiled widely; eyes trained on the TV screen. You’d spent the rest of the afternoon with Thor watching movies after Bucky and Steve had to return to work and Loki left to run errands, leaving you alone with the big softie. “His last girlfriend was uh-.” He cut himself off, shifting awkwardly on the sofa, glancing across at you. “He told me about her, she sounded like she was more in it for the sex than the relationship.” You finished for him. Thor hummed, nodding. “She wasn’t the best for him, we all tried to tell him. Poor guy was so in love he didn’t see it at first.” Thor spoke low, so not to interrupt Star Wars episode five too much. “I think he knows he’s in love this time, because he sees that you’re good for him.” Thor thinks out loud, fiddling with the blanket that was half heartedly draped over him. “You think I’m good for him?” You ask, looking over at him, your attention now on the conversation rather than the movie. “We all do.” He nodded, tucking his blonde hair behind his ear, glancing between you and the TV.

“I think you ground him, he’s so caught up in the biker life, everything revolving around his group and bikes. You’re a different perspective.” Thor went on, eyes glued to the AT-AT fight on Hoth. He paused as he watched the scene, waiting for the cool bit to be over before he started talking again. “I think he’s good for you too.” Thor mumbled; a bit too distracted by the movie to really talk in depth again.

“I can’t believe that!” Wanda raged, arms flailing, almost knocking over her milkshake. “How could they just not tell you?” She frowned, Sam nodding furiously next to her as you leant on the diner table. “Why’d he have to leave it to the day of the shop closing to say something?” Wanda was far more enraged by your sudden loss of employment than you imagined her to be. Steve, who was sat on the other side of her, gestured for her to lower her voice, the other patrons in Pepper’s diner turning to see what all the commotion was about. “That does sound unreasonable.” Peter agreed from beside you, Bucky’s metal arm draped over your shoulders as you glanced at Peter. “I know.” You sighed, shoulders dropping a little. “Hey, on the bright side, you get to work closer with us now!” Peter beamed up at you. “Pepper is trying to convince Tony to make a spot for you.” He repeated the news the boys had told you earlier. “I really appreciate everything you guys are doing for me; you really don’t have to do it though.” You smiled gratefully around the table, catching all of their eyes. Everyone had made sure you were okay. As soon as the word got out about your situation, the entire group was at your beck and call, running to your aid to try and cheer you up. “We absolutely do.” Wanda answered before anyone else could, voice stern as her finger pointed at you. She was really mad about it, but you appreciated the passion she showed for your wellbeing.

“Honestly, as I see it, it was the only right thing to do.” Steve continued the conversation after a short pause. “We’re a family, you’re part of that (Y/n). I’d feel terrible if I didn’t offer up a spot for you, even if I didn’t really need someone to do paperwork for me.” Steve admitted, a lopsided smile on his face as your gaze met his. “Since you two met, I feel like we’ve become fast friends, I see you more like a sibling than just my best friend’s girlfriend.” Steve grinned widely, a little pink blush on his cheeks. Holy shit that’s cute. “You do?” You squeaked out, cheeks burning bright red, a huge grin on your lips. “I love you Stevie- I mean love as in like not love, love, but love as in kinda love.” You stuttered out, a few chuckles from around the table. Steve shook his head as he chuckled, Bucky squeezing your side tightly as a laugh rumbled through his chest. If you weren’t already blushing madly, you were now as red as a tomato as you nervously giggled to yourself. Such a way with words. “I kinda love you too, (Y/n).” Steve chuckled, hand landing gently on yours and squeezing a little before he went back to cupping his milkshake glass.

“We all kinda love you, (Y/n), except for Bucky, he really loves you.” Sam teased, winking a few times at you both, causing Bucky to scoff in response. “I more than really love you, doll.” Bucky whispered in your ear, only for you to hear, causing you to blush and giggle shyly. “Ooh sharing sweet nothings there, Barnes?” Sam teased. “Shut it Wilson.” Bucky glowered at him, Steve chuckling at the exchange. “What did he say to ya?” Sam asked. Perfect opportunity for the unsuspecting jokester. “He told me how he’s going to kick you out.” You deadpanned, face void of expression. Steve almost choked on his milkshake, Peter pausing mid sip, Wanda had a knowing grin on her face as she exchanged looks with Bucky. The table fell silent, Sam wasn’t too sure that you were even joking by your incredible ability to keep a straight face. He was only thrown off when Bucky finally cracked next to you, letting out a hearty chuckle, the others soon following. “That was cold.” Sam pointed at you, a large smile on his face. “It’s always the quiet ones.” He shook his head, making the remark more to himself than anyone else.

You sat and talked with your friends, chatting with Wanda, making stupid remarks with Steve, groaning and laughing at Sam’s jokes, giggling to Peter’s awkward stories and enjoying the sweet words Bucky would whisper into your ear. You were with your real family. The real family that loved you and supported you the way you needed them to.

You were home.

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