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5h-epilogue · 9 months ago

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“ . . . and as you’ve grown up, I continued with running my companies, starring in movies, making music, and I produced my play. Everyone else eventually found happiness in one way or another, thank goodness.”

Nia had wondered how her parents were so rich, how she was able to enjoy such comfortable seating out on the patio she glanced around at now that overlooked an enormous pool — the big, outdoor flower and vegetable garden to the right of it — and the patio also had two flat-screen televisions, a gourmet outdoor cooking area with a grill, and, appropriately, ceiling fans and a fire pit.

“Wow, mom. That’s . . . wow.” The young girl was in a bit of shock. She understood why a filmmaker wanted to make a movie about you. A countless amount of questions ran through her mind about you, her mother, who was considered to be a living legend.

Your beloved chef came outdoors and served you and your daughter a bowl of strawberry chicken salad, your favorite summer meal, which she now knew reminded you of your old, deceased lover, Armin Arlert.

“Thank you,” you said to the chef. “Would you mind bringing me my photo album?”

The photo album.

You mentioned it in your story.

Several minutes later, your chef returned with a brown, hardcover book that Nia had seen a countless amount of times in a reserved spot in the library, but never had she touched it. She couldn’t anyway, as it was on a pedestal display underneath protective glass.

Opening the pages, you showed her several photographs of your younger self.

“These were taken by Levi Ackerman,” you said softly.

“You look really pretty,” Nia mumbled, taking the photo album from you, as you were flipping through it too fast for her liking.

She glanced down at a selfie of you and a dark-haired man at the beach, the decades-old date catching her attention.

“Is that Levi?” She asked.

“Yes,” you replied.

Then, she saw the letter Levi had written to you. She only skimmed across it, having already known its contents from your story, and then, she explored the other pages: where Levi told you to continue filling the photo album with pictures from your past, present, and future.

There was a picture of you with a kind-looking, blonde-haired man, standing side by side in a bakery, hands covered in flour.

There was another picture of that same man in a selfie with her father, who seemed so young.

It was clearly Armin. Not only could she gather that from the details your story provided, but he was one of three people in every photo she stared at who she hadn’t seen in her entire life.

There was a photo of you and Jean in a studio together, you writing something down on a notepad as he studiously adjusted something on the soundboard mixer.

“Wait, was this CS Records or Arlert Records?”

You leaned over, looking at the photo.

“CS Records. See the date? Jean and I were more than likely working on my first few songs during the Eldian Devils tour. I can’t remember who took the picture, though.”

Nia hummed in response.

Next, there was a picture of you and Eren getting married for the first time as young artists in Las Vegas. Underneath it, there was a picture of you and Eren getting remarried in Europe.

The other photos consisted of you, Reiner, and his family the night he proposed, you and Mikasa having lunch near a bridge, a group of friends playing cards around a table, a few pictures of you on stage, on film sets, and at awards shows, Eren’s family, and other pictures of you and your friends who she lovingly recognized.

It was odd to know that, as she looked at all of the photographs of people who she had just seen last week, there were two people in some pictures who would never, ever age. The photos of Levi and Armin existed as a permanent reminder of how they will always be known.

Towards the back of the photo album, there was a picture of you with another man she didn’t recognize, but it wasn’t Levi. It wasn’t Armin.

“Is that Connie Springer?” Your daughter leaned over to show you a photograph of you and Connie dressed in suits and gowns for some sort of event.

“Yes,” you said. “That was my album release party. It was the first night Connie let me out of my bedroom after locking me away.”

“Uh,” Nia frowned. “That’s really-”

Nia interrupted her own sentence, distracted by the very last photo in the photo album.

It was a picture that was much older than the other ones. Not only did the date give it away, but the horrible camera quality as well.

It was a photo that couldn’t be found online. A photograph that was worth more than diamonds and gold.

Four young teenagers, standing in front of beautiful trees and bushes, smiling brightly, were photographed by her grandmother, Carla Yeager.

Nia read the little description below the childhood photo of Eren, Jean, Connie, and Marco: The original Eldian Devils. So long & farewell.

Below that, there was a photo of two young children trying to catch fireflies in a patch of high grass underneath a streetlight, photographed by her other grandmother, whom she had never known.

The little description below that childhood photo read: First loves. So long & farewell.

Nia closed the photo album.

“I think I’m gonna cry, Mom,” Nia started to bury her head in her hands. But then, she suddenly perked up and pushed herself out of her seat. “I gotta go see Dad!”

The young girl speed-walked through the enormous home. At this hour, she was certain where to find him.

Opening the door to the family room, there he was, strumming his guitar.

“Hi angel,” Eren smiled, soft wrinkles by his emerald eyes appeared as he greeted his beloved daughter with her favorite nickname, but upon seeing her eyes glistening with sadness, he immediately put down his guitar. “What’s wrong?”

He motioned the girl over, who quickly ran to him and sat down, wrapping her arms around him.

While he didn’t know why she was so upset, he had years of experience soothing her cries.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here,” he repeated.

Nia was a touch more sensitive and incredibly empathetic compared to the average person, that much was true, and right now, she could only think about all the pain her father experienced. The abuse. Almost dying. Losing friends.

And it hurt terribly, especially because she had only known him as the kind-hearted man who was a phenomenal father.

“I’m glad mom picked you,” Nia mumbled. “Thank you for always watching The Parent Trap with me . . . showing up to all of my shows and stuff . . . reading my papers . . . and just . . . you’re a great dad. I love you.”

“Aw, I love you too.” Eren hugged his girl even tighter. “Of course, sweetheart. Always.”

When you stepped into the room, smiling softly, Eren gave you a confused look that silently asked: What’s going on?

You held up the photo album, and he immediately understood.

Eren then motioned you over. Once you sat beside him, he kissed your forehead and wrapped his arm around you as well, holding on to the two people he cherished more than anyone or anything else in the world.

“I love you, mom. You’re so strong, and pretty amazing, too.” Nia reached out, touching your arm. “I hope I can be like you when I’m your age. Older you. Not younger you. You used to be a mess.”

For a while, the three of you sat there, hugging one another, experiencing nothing but pure love and joy.

—

A few months later, it was Thanksgiving.

The heartwarming event was hosted at your house, as it was every year, and familiar faces were gathered around the enormous dining room table covered with warm plates of food.

This year, Nia approached everyone and asked them more specific questions about their lives, wanting more details about the story she heard.

Aunt Hange was more than happy to answer just about everything after having too much wine.

Everyone was lovingly questioned by the teenager, and she shared what you had told her with their children as well.

After having dinner, Jean and his wife were sitting in the living room, playing cards with Erwin and Hange.

Reiner and his wife, who had flown in from Tennessee, were socializing with Annie, her girlfriend, and Sasha — who brought her husband, Niccolo, and their son.

Nia hung out in the recreation room with Reiner’s three children, who both had hair as blonde as his and were slightly younger than she was.

Mikasa, who had settled down in Washington after seeing the world, wanting to be closer to her friends and family, was telling you and Eren about one Thanksgiving year that she had spent lost in the middle of a forest.

A little while afterward, once dinner, laughter, and board games came to an end, Eren found you outside on the patio, staring at the glowing fireplace.

“Hi, baby. Everyone’s gone,” Eren sat down beside you. “Nia’s asleep, or she’s pretending to be, I’m not sure.”

“She’s probably tired, so I’m guessing she's actually asleep,” you said with a grin. “Today was fun. I miss everyone already.”

“Me too,” Eren smiled softly. “I’m glad everyone’s doing well. I hope it stays that way.”

“It will,” you suddenly yawned.

“Come on,” Eren stood up and reached his hand out, and you took it. ��Let’s get ready for bed.”

“Someone’s excited to cuddle, huh?” You teased, expecting him to deny it, but proudly, he grinned wider and said, “Of course I am, so hurry up.”

After having a shower together, you and Eren both cuddled up in bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms.

That night, you dreamt of your past — making cinnamon rolls in a bakery and staring at stars from a rooftop.

It was a dream that you often had, but not out of regret. Not out of pain. But out of reflection of just how much you healed. How much your life had changed.

There were some people you wished you could bring back — Armin and Levi.

Some questions went unanswered — who your stalker was all those years ago, and whether it was a stranger or a lover.

But, even so, after having five husbands, and after every beautiful experience and painful memory, you could finally say that you had found contentment, and your one true love was the happiness you experienced as you grew old with your friends and family by your side.

— ONE MONTH LATER —

Five years.

That’s how long Eren had been trying his hardest to visit Connie in prison.

And a month after having Thanksgiving dinner with his family and friends, Connie allowed him to come.

What a stubborn man Connie was, but Eren’s persistence had won.

Eren couldn’t lie. He was nervous. The last time he laid eyes on the CS Records owner, he was testifying against him in court, both of them as young men. Both of them wishing that the other person would simply fall over and die.

But now, as the man in his forties sat in an uncomfortable chair in a private room, waiting for Connie to arrive on the other side of the thick glass, he couldn’t help but wonder what made Connie finally allow him to visit.

But he wouldn’t have to wonder much longer.

His leg, which shook with anticipation, halted its movement when a door opened and a prisoner was escorted out in chains, two correctional officers standing at his side.

It was him. Connie Springer.

Eren’s brows unintentionally furrowed, his face twitching as he fought the urge to both smile and frown.

It was Connie — the same man that tried to take his life. A murderer. Torturer. And yet, it was Connie, his old childhood friend who had aged just as he did, and despite being behind bars, he looked rather well.

If Connie was as shocked to see Eren after years upon years, Eren couldn’t tell, as the prisoner simply blinked at him as he was escorted to his seat on the other side of the glass, his face expressionless. Intimidating.

And he just stared at Eren.

The former musician was the first one to pick up the phone hanging on the wall to communicate. Connie did so as well a few moments later.

Pressing the phone to his ear, Eren’s emotional, shiny eyes darted away from Connie’s, down at the new tattoo on Connie’s left arm, and back up at him.

“Hey,” Eren spoke first.

Connie didn’t respond.

He just stared at Eren.

“I’m here because I wanted to see how you were doing,” Eren spoke yet again.

Connie’s chains rattled as he shifted in his seat.

He just stared at Eren.

With a frown, Eren questioned, “Why did you let me come visit you if you weren’t going to talk to me?”

“You didn’t give me a choice. I thought you’d give up . . . after five fucking years.”

Finally.

Eren couldn’t help but smile a bit. Hearing his voice again after forgetting what it sounded like was rather startling.

“You only said yes so I’d leave you alone?” Eren asked.

“Yeah.”

“Alright. I’ll take what I can get,” Eren softly sighed. “I never thought that I’d ever want to see you again, but here I am.”

“You really did all this to check on me?” Connie’s question was fired rather abruptly, nearly cutting off Eren’s sentence. “I put a bullet through your chest. I’m the reason you only have eight fingers left. I killed your friends, and I could keep naming shit I’ve done. Why are you here?”

Eren glanced away, adjusting the dark green phone in his hand.

“Time heals all wounds.”

“That something your therapist came up with?”

“Yeah.”

The corner of Connie’s mouth twitched as, this time, he was the one fighting the urge to smile.

“What I’m trying to say is that I can’t forgive you for what you did to Armin and Levi, and it’s not my place to or not to. But I forgive you for what you did to me.” Eren’s eyes glistened with subtle sadness. “I guess I’m just hoping that after all this time . . . after all we’ve been through . . . I can talk to my friend again. Not CS Records owner, Connie Springer, but my friend. I haven’t spoken to him since I was fifteen, and I woke up with two new gray hairs today.”

It was a soft noise, one that was very brief and vanished as soon as it had arrived, but Connie chuckled.

“You’re saying some corny stuff, man.”

Eren’s smile brightened. “That’s what happens when you have a kid. All I do now is think of dad jokes, and try to-”

“You have a kid?”

Eren’s face faltered in utter confusion, but as he stared at Connie’s slightly shocked face, he could tell that the man wasn’t messing around.

Nia’s birth was worldwide news. It was a steady hot topic for an entire year — one would have thought that a new member of the royal family had been born.

But then, Eren realized that for the most part, behind bars, the outside world ceased to exist. Especially in maximum security facilities.

“Yeah,” Eren said. “I have a daughter. She turned fourteen a month ago.”

“Is her mom around? Who’s she?”

“Her mom is Y/N. And, yeah, she’s around. We’ve been married for years.”

“Seriously?” Connie couldn’t hide the shock and surprise. A look of amusement appeared upon his face as he raised his eyebrows. “Well, uh . . . congratulations. How’s Y/N?”

Eren couldn’t help but smile as he thought about you, his beautiful wife. “She’s good. She’s great. Her companies are still going strong, and she’s finally happy.”

“Didn’t wanna come see me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Connie nodded.

Then, his face fell into a small frown, hazel eyes darting down to the corner of the glass, staring at nothing in particular.

“How’s Jean doing?”

“Jean’s fine. He’s retired from music. He married a pianist.” Eren paused. “Everyone else is doing fine too. Reiner has kids and a wife, and they all have Southern accents — it’s funny to hear. Mikasa finally . . .”

For a while, Connie listened to Eren ramble on about the progressive lives of the people he once knew.

As his old friend spoke, he couldn’t help but wonder how his life would have turned out if he had made different choices.

Sadness pricked at his heart, sending a small ache throughout his body.

If only he wasn’t such an idiot back then.

No. He was worse than an idiot.

He was a monster.

“What about you, Connie? I know you’re locked up, but how are they treating you here? Knowing you, you probably run this place, huh?”

Truth be told, Connie was rather surprised to know Eren cared. It was just as touching as it was shocking.

“Damn right,” Connie said.

And it was true, but not in the way one would imagine.

He intimated who he needed to. Ruined lives when he needed to. But, over the nearly two decades he had been behind bars, he had done it solely to stick up for the defenseless prisoners, both young and old, who didn’t deserve to be treated as he once was when he was locked up the first time.

It wasn’t some change of heart that had occurred over the last several years, either.

From the very first day he entered as a younger man, he was both starting fights and finishing them to protect others.

He couldn’t explain why he did such things. It was no secret that he didn’t mind letting other people get hurt, considering he excelled at harming others, but this was different.

Somehow, it just was.

“Can I ask you something? And be honest with me,” Eren paused, carefully thinking over his words before he dared to utter them. “Do you regret it? Any of it?”

Connie ran his hand down his lower face.

It was a difficult question, and not because he didn’t know the answer, because he did, but rather, he wasn’t sure if the truth was an acceptable response.

Telling the truth meant showing weakness. Losing power.

Letting go of that mentality was rather difficult, especially behind bars where weakness was preyed on.

But he didn’t care about those former beliefs anymore. He was getting too old for such stupidity.

“Telling you I regret it will give you closure, right?”

“Surely you want closure too.”

“I regret everything.” The prisoner looked into his old friend’s eyes as he spoke. “I wish I . . .” He clenched his jaw. He couldn’t speak anymore — but there were, perhaps, no words in the English language that could properly express what he felt in his heart.

“Well, uh, how about this,” The other man sniffled softly as spoke. “You’ll have to be under constant supervision, but, in a few years, how about we work on getting you out of here . . . letting you see the sun again? What do you say?”

Fighting the urge to cry was an incredibly difficult battle. The prisoner nodded, his teary eyes shining with guilt and hope, and the other man nodded along with him.

“Okay, well,” the former musician smiled sadly, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

The visit ended with goodbyes and promises that they both intended to keep. Your dear husband couldn’t be certain what the future held, but as he did the day he first met you all those years ago, approaching you backstage with great curiosity, he’d trust his gut.

For it had led him to his one true love, and he’d listen to it — always.

Thanks for reading! What did you think? Please let me know by like, reblogging, and/or commenting on the last chapter, or in my inbox!

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stabbyfoxandrew · 5 months ago

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The last interaction between Neil and Andrew was so good! I would love some more mer au please

WIP Wednesday (8/7) | Mer Roadtrip AU (Part 51)

“What is all this?” Andrew asks after a couple minutes of staring. He rolls onto his side and props his head on his elbow then gestures to Abram’s side of the bed. It’s covered with random papers, a couple notepads, and, of course, a hundred grand.

"Nothing." Abram starts to dig through the junk spread across his side of the bed. Finally, he finds the paper he wants and sets it off to the side before scribbling something down on another. Andrew merely watches, fascinated by this process. As random as it seems, Andrew can tell Abram has done this before. Though, he hasn’t a clue what ‘this’ is.

Andrew eventually clears his throat, “What are you doing?”

“Hm?” Abram barely glances up. “Oh. I’m planning what we need to do now. First, I figure we’ve gotta find a used car dealer who peddles in cash—”

“Would anyone sell a car to the likes of you? You barely look legal.”

“Shut up. I’m eighteen. Been driving since I was twelve.” Abram says. “Can you drive, fish boy?”

“We’re both fish boys,” Andrew points out. “It’s been a while, but yes. I can drive. Go on, tell me the rest of your plan. Assuming we can get a car, we just head east and drive till we get there?”

“No. Actually, our first stop is Las Vegas.” Abram says, dismissively.

“Oh? I didn’t know you were a gambler.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why are we going there?” Andrew asks, making Abram sigh before shuffling his special pile of papers. Finally, he selects one and passes it over. When Andrew turns it around, he finds an address for ‘Lovebirds’ Bliss— 24/7 Chapel, Hotel & Buffet’.

Andrew reads it again, then blinks up at Abram. “Alright, if you insist. But I’m not wearing the dress.”

#andreil #aftg #WIP Wednesday #Mer Roadtrip AU #🕊️#answered #anon

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fukkadoesart · 2 months ago

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Hey guys,

I am deathly sick and I would like to say that I have been so unmotivated to do any art whatsoever and that it will probably take even longer for me to produce anything…so I might as well just give you guys some old art that I have done a super long time ago and have never posted. Here you are. I did this drawing a little under a year ago when I was in Las Vegas and I found a little notepad and pen. I made this when I woke up at 10am something and just started drawing. Idk how long it took but I really like it and I thought it was cool. (Don’t mind my little brother also doodling on it)

#art?#shitpost #my art #i hate being sick #i’m shitting myself #what the fuck #loneliest #my ocs #my post #dragon art #drawing #dragon oc

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thesiriusmoon · 2 years ago

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First Case

Summary: Bonnie is invited to assist on her first case, and got more than what she was expecting.

Characters: Bonnie McBride (OC), Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Jason Gideon

AU: Criminal Minds

Episode: Own

Word count: 4.9K

A/N: I make a lot of stuff up in this so just go with it! I make facts up a lot lol

TW: detail of blood and gore

Reblogs and likes help me a lot!! Help a little account out <3

——————————

“Wheels up in thirty.” Agent Hotchner announced and Bonnie could have hit the roof and landed in Seattle already not having needed to use the jet.

It had been three months this she started her new job as the BAU’s (Agents Hotchners) assistant and she’d been invited to assist on a case. Not as a profiler or an agent, but to help out. Sort things, write down information, and keep up to date. Like a walking talking diary for the team.

Her go bag has been ready since her first day and followed Emily closely towards the jet, it was magnificent. She’d never imagine she’d ever step foot in something like this.

“You like it?” Emily asked knowingly, and Bonnie chuckled.

“It’s amazing.”

“Very comfy too!”

And the two entered and found a seat.

The rest of the team followed shortly and she thought it was a bit cramped for seven people, but it was fine none the less.

“Three killings, all stabbed and had their hair cut off, all dumped around the Livingstone park. Within four weeks. Which means around one killing per week.” Agent Hotchner read from his file, one that each agent had been given by Jennifer and Bonnie began writing in her notepad.

“The hair means something to him. Women love their hair, this dude hates women. So what does he do? Take away their identity and their looks. He’s angry and wants them to feel as low as he does.” Derek waded in, and by instinct Bonnie stroked her own hair. She did love hers. It was unique. Bright orange when the sun shone down on her, and cool ginger when there was no light. She’d hate to have it all cut off or lose it somehow.

“I think he knows the area. That park is two thousand acres, he can cover a lot of ground.” Said Emily.

“Are we sure it’s a guy? I mean, it seems like it could be jealousy. Possibly a woman who doesn’t see herself as pretty or well liked and she attacks attractive women then defiles something that most of us care for and always want to look nice, our hair.” Jennifer commented and Agent Gideon frowned.

“You might be onto something JJ. They leave the bodies face up, no remorse for what they’ve done. It could either me a man suffering from rejection or a woman full of jealousy. We’ll have to take a closer look when we get down there.”

“Did you know that in a recent survey taken in a Las Vegas high school, girls were asked what aspect of themselves they treasure most, and the highest answer was their hair. Not their body or maybe their face, but their hair. I-I think it’s because your hair can really change the way you look. You can change your face with makeup and surgery and your body by exercising and-and eating, but it’s easier to get a haircut or dye it.” Spencer gifted the team with his extensive knowledge.

“So you think whoever’s doing this is to make their victims… ugly?” Agent Gideon questioned, looking down to Spencer who nodded.

“Possibly.”

“Well all the girls do look kinda similar. Dark hair, blue eyes, skinny.” Derek had said before Agent Hotchner spoke.

“When we arrive I want Reid, Morgan, JJ, down at the police station find out anything you can about what’s been done. Gideon, and Prentiss, and I will visit the dump site.” He closed the conversation swiftly, along with his file.

“What will I do?” Bonnie asked eagerly.

Agent Hotchner thought for a moment. “Come with me. But if you feel sick or something you can head back and go to the police station with the others.”

But she swore she wouldn’t. This is what she’s preparing for. Her future. She’d have to get used to gory scenes at some point. And she wanted to prove she was capable of helping the team.

“Yes sir.”

And shortly after, the jet landed and Bonnie dug her nails into the arms of her chair, scared they would crash but had instead rolled smoothly into an airport.

Immediately, agent Hotchner, Gideon, and Emily were on their way to the Livingstone National Park, Bonnie in the backseat next to Emily.

“You ever seen a dead body before.” Emily asked suddenly and Bonnie almost laughed at how absurd that question was.

“Once.” She kept her answer short. Not wanting to give any more information about her past to the team.

It was rough growing up. Her mother and father migrated to America from Scotland when she was twenty two, Bonnie was four. Her red hair a flame and full of wonder. Her parents were convinced about the American dream, but neither of them had ever kept down a job, instead they fell down a hole of drug addiction. At the age of eighteen, her mother had found herself pregnant after a faulty condom broke, then six years later, it was her little girl who found her father laying lifeless in their apartment bathroom. A drug overdose. Since then her and her mother have been eating small plates and sometimes using cold water for showers. The apartment in which they live in now isn’t great. It needs a lot of work but neither of them have money to pay for it. Bonnie was accepted to college for outstanding grades as a young age. Child prodigy as her mother would say and tell her every day how proud she was of her. But lately she hasn’t seen her much, or heard anything similar in a couple of years.

“Who was it?”

“Emily.” Agent Hotchner had a stern look on his face and she gulped.

“Sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m sure you guys have seen lots. I’m just excited to be helping.”

Agent Gideon smiled a little. “Let’s hope you still feel that way when we’re done.”

They arrived at the park, and were welcomed by one of the rangers.

“Thank you for coming Sir. I’m Sandy Parker, head of the rangers and the park.” A broad woman possibly in her mid thirties with short red hair, a tattoo on her left arm, and a bulbous nose shook Agent Hotchners hand. She had been leaning up against a pick-up truck, the same colour as her hair.

“Thank you for letting us in. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner, this here is SSA Jason Gideon, SSA Emily Prentiss, and Bonnie.”

And Bonnie. It sounded a little funny. Here’s three intelligent agents, and a kid. We’re here to solve the crime. Just like scooby doo.

“Oh my god am I the dog?” Bonnie thought to herself.

“Right this way. One of my coworkers Andy found her. He hasn’t blinked since.” Her tone was steady, deep, she must be very professional, or has seen something like this before.

As they were led through the forest, Bonnie noted how close the trees were. Not really good for entering. And she wrote it down. There had to be another entrance somewhere. It would be hard to move around in here without making a noise or dropping the body you carried.

Before she even knew it, the agents had stopped walking, and the three of them were staring downwards. So Bonnie did too, and almost vomited.

It was horrible. The girl must have been around her age. Brunette, small, skinny, but perky. That’s the ideal type isn’t it? To be thin but also have a little something going on. She knew that she want to be like that. But was rather flat, as she would put it when looking in the mirror.

The girls hair was chopped right to the scalp, bald patches shining here and there and some cuts on where the shearing had gone too close to the head.

The girls face was grey, totally lifeless. But what the worst part of it was, was that it was hardly a face. It had been mutilated with a blade.

“Fifteen stab wounds. Most to the face, some to the body which is probably what killed her.” Sandy sighed. “Poor girl. You never think something like this could ever happen to you. She was so pretty too… shame.” Sandy said staring right down at the girls bloody corpse.

In her notes, Bonnie wrote down about the overkill. The rage.

But was there hair here? On the ground? Or any blood splatters? If the girl was killed here, the hair that was cut should be here too.

“There’s no hair around here. Or blood.” She said.

“You’re right…” Agent Hotchner mumbled. “He’s not killing them here. He might be holding them.” And he flipped out his phone.

“Garcia, I need you to find missing persons report on brunette young girls, typically attractive, thin, and small.”

“She’s on it. Hopefully we can find out his type. And he might already found his next victim.”

Bonnie gulped hard.

Once there was nothing else to look at, the four began travelling back to the car through branches and twigs.

“That was some good spotting kid.” Agent Gideon made Bonnie jump.

“Oh… thank you sir.” Smiling gratefully.

“I hear your studying criminal justice?”

“Yes sir I am. I’m almost finished. I’ve been skipping a lot of grades and should be finished next year at some point.”

“Oh another genius! So tell me, what are you planning to do once you’re done?”

“FBI training.” She said proudly and Agent Gideon smiled.

“Well you’ve proven you know your stuff well. Keep it up and you’ll be in the BAU in no time. I’ll make sure of it. That’s how Spencer got in! Knew him when he was studying and could see his wits from miles away. Once he was done all he had to do was give me a call.”

If he was hinting at her doing the same thing, she might faint.

She’s always had a passion for justice. She was smart and wanted to use it for good. Help others. Save them. Make something of herself instead of falling into the same path are the one her mother is taking.

“So what have you found?” Agent Hotchner asked Jennifer who began filling him in on missing girl cases and had three pictures up on a clear board which Spencer was scribbling profusely on, while Derek read over the victims files.

“No sexual assault on any of them. I think JJ might be right. It might be a woman.”

Jennifer sighed. “But how is she doing it?”

“Being nice?” Bonnie suggested.

“Gaining their trust.” Said Gideon, taking a seat. “These young girls wouldn’t think twice about a woman or another young girl showing kindness would they? They’re more trustworthy than men.”

“I don’t know about you guys but I wouldn’t just walk away with a strange woman just because she’s nice to me.” Jennifer commented and Bonnie nodded her head agreeing.

Then Emily added, “Trustworthy. People of authority uh… police officers, nurses maybe, someone the public is brought up to know will help them.”

“So how’s she getting rid of the bodies.” Agent Hotchner asked the question they were all thinking.

“A car would be too small I think. Too easy to get evidence on it. So maybe a van, or a truck. Something bigger that would have space to hold someone.” Spencer spoke to the board he was staring at.

“Great. We’re ready to deliver the profile, good work guys.” Agent Hotchner left the room with the team following in his footsteps.

The whole police departement sat before them, looking up at them eagerly wanting just as much they did to catch the person doing this. Sandy from the park had also arrived. She wanted to find who was defiling her beloved park just like everyone else.

Agent Hotchner spoke first. “The person were looking for is female. All victims have been white so we feel safe to assume this unsub is too.”

Then Derek. “She’s someone trustworthy. It could be someone of the law or of some other authority. These girls don’t have to question whether or not they’re safe with the unsub.”

“She’s full of rage. These women are everything that she wants to be. Small, thin, pretty, and she’s taking her own insecurities out on them, shown by the over kill and cutting of hair.” Emily spoke up.

“So we’re looking for a woman who may not be the same age as these victims. She’s old enough to know the Livingstone area well and clever enough to plan out her attacks and kidnappings.” Said Spencer.

“That’s right. These aren’t spree killings or sudden fits of anger. These girls are being kidnapped, held, tortured, then murdered.” Agent Gideon finished, all of the detectives and officers had their mouths gaping. Sandy’s expression was sour and Bonnie couldn’t blame her. The innocence of these young girls were ripped from them cruelly. All because some bitch never learned how to love herself.

“That’s all for now. Thank you.” Agent Hotchner allowed the detectives to go back to work.

At that moment, Sandy had her phone to her ear, and looked wide eyed to Agent Hotchner. “Sir, they’ve found another body.”

“What? Already?” Bonnie followed quickly to keep up with his long strides and they ended up in the jeep, Emily and Derek in the back as Bonnie had accidentally taken the passenger seat. She could tell Derek was a little annoyed at that.

“Another body… they’re picking up the pace man.” Derek said worriedly and Agent Hotchner nodded.

“It’s weird… we were literally just there and the second we leave there’s another body… how?”

“Maybe they were watching us. They knew we were there and waited until we were gone to dump another.” Emily commented from her back seat.

Bonnie hadn’t seen anyone in the trees… maybe they were high up like a bird and she had missed it.

“Over this way!” Sandy yelled having beat them to the scene, this time in a small black car. The truck must be used for park purposes.

The team followed into the scraggly bushes, and went deep into the forest about a ten minute walk until they laid eyes on their latest victim.

Just the same as the last, but a more violent attack had occurred. The girls ear was missing, the other still intact with a dangly sapphire earring. Her face was practically gone. Mush.

“How could…” Bonnie choked and Emily lay a gently hand on her shoulder.

From the rest of her body, she looked young. Nineteen maybe twenty or eighteen. She had her whole life ahead of her and now it was nothing but ashes. They couldn’t even identify her yet…

“ID in her pocket. Drivers licence. Katy Darnwall, seventeen.” One of the officers handed Agent Hotchner the girls card with a glove. She was one of the girls on Spencer’s board.

Seventeen… possibly the youngest of the lot. Probably still in high school not yet completed her exams…

“That’s disgusting…” holding the back of her hand against her mouth, Bonnie took a deep breath while Emily squeezed her grip.

“How long has she been here?” Derek asked the officers.

“Dumped today. She’s still warm. A dog found her. He was off his leash.”

“If you like I can take you to the park station and we can call her parents.” Sandy suggested, looking down at the girl.

“No… we need to have a look around. See how the unsub got this deep in. There’s close trees, there has to be a path easier to get in.” Agent Hotchner shook his head and turned his attention to Emily and Derek.

“Split up and try and find the entrance, you too Bonnie, note down anything suspicious.”

And she obliged immediately. Anything not to look at the blood still pouring out of the young girls face.

On her way she went. Separating from the group with her notepad in hand. Writing as her mind refused to stop thinking for just a second.

“Woman… older… not very pretty, or thin.” She spoke out loud. “Truck or van…” just subconsciously, a face blinked in her mind. Sandy was a bit like that. She wasn’t trying to be mean or insulting but that’s just what the description made her think of. Maybe there’s someone living out here pretending to be a guide and luring these girls into a cabin or shed.

Bonnie had been walking through a dirt path for about ten minutes now, not even realising, and saw at the bottom of a hill was in fact, a shed. It was hard to see. Moss covered the sides and blended the building into the trees and bushes. Just like the rest of the forest, the trees were close together. Anyone walking past wouldn’t have even seen it.

But Bonnie really did love quizzes and challenges. Amazing at spot the difference and games were you had to find hidden objects in pictures that blended into its surroundings. She didn’t know what that game was called but she had named it ‘the chameleon game.’

Immediately she pulled out her phone to dial Agent Hotchners number, but no signal.

“Shit!” She cursed and turned back to the shed that looked pretty old. Shabby but… well kept. There was a garden with flowers. Tulips. And a small lake, almost like a big puddle about twenty feet away.

She couldn’t turn back now, she was afraid she’d forget her steps. So she went forward towards the shed.

Watching her footing, careful not to trip, she began her descent, and noticed there was a path to her left. That must be how this person is getting the victims out easily, instead of treading through all these branches. Another on the right near the puddle lake. Must be how they get in.

“Hey.” Bonnie’s soul almost left her body and she slipped down onto the dirty ground, covering her skirt in dry mud.

Whipping around she saw Sandy and sighed with relief, getting back to her feet. “Hey… did you know this shed was here?” She asked, pointing in the direction.

“Never seen that thing in my life.” The woman shrugged.

But she’s the head of the rangers right? She needs to know all about the park.

“How come?” She asked innocently, as anxiety began to fill her stomach, something wasn’t right.

“Just never saw it. Some of these woods are still undiscovered.”

Well that couldn’t be true. There was a map at the station for visitors so they don’t get lost. Unless this wasn’t on the map.

“Oh right… well…” she didn’t really know what to do now.

“We’ll check it out together alright? I’m here with you. Nothing to be afraid of.” Sandy’s smile had eased her, so she began to walk. Trusting her.

The closer to the shed she got, the louder the alarms were in her head. But she didn’t know what to do about them. Sandy was here, but Bonnie was beginning to doubt whether that was a good thing.

Older woman, not ideally pretty, not thin, trustworthy, authoritative, truck… it all added up and formed into the woman walking right next to her.

And… had she been following her? She was a long way away from the dump site, why hadn’t she let herself be known…

Sandy was a few steps in front of her, and Bonnie caught a glimpse of something shiny. “What’s that?” She had suddenly asked, curious on the little blue gem in Sandy’s hand, twirling between her fingers.

“Just a little something I found.”

Katy Darnwall’s missing earrings.

The look of realisation must have been clear, as Sandy smiled and approached Bonnie slowly, and once reached, took strands of her hair through her stubby fingers, admiring it in her hand.

“Y’know, in all my life I’ve actually never seen someone with ginger hair before. Must be a foreign thing. It’s very pretty. Just like you. You’re thin, small, got nice rosy cheeks.” To which she pinched Bonnies face. A little too hard and Bonnies breathing hitched.

She wanted to cry out of fear. Scream for Agent Hotchner or Emily who wouldn’t even hear her. Someone safe. Someone to save her.

“And gorgeous blue eyes! Y’know how rare it is for ginger people to have blue eyes? Only zero point two percent in the entire world has that.” She looked down at Bonnie with a twisted smile, still playing with her hair in her fingers, with her free hand she stroked her cheek.

“I bet you’ve had a lot of boyfriends huh?”

“N-no… I’ve never dated anyone.” And that was true. She didn’t have the time nor the confidence to do so.

“Oh really? Why’s that? You’re a really beautiful girl. No one would ever want to date someone like me.” Sandy laughed, a little crazed. “But you… I know everyone wants a piece of you, and I hate you!” The hair between Sandy’s fingers was yanked hair and Bonnie fell down, suddenly feeling the weight of a boulder coming down on her face.

Scared and unsure what was happening, she pushed up hard, and rolled down the rest of the hill with Sandy running behind her. Hitting her head on stones or twigs on the earthy ground until she came to a quick stop and jumped, bolting for the shed.

“Get back here you little shit!” Bonnie screamed with fright and tried to door handle which didn’t budge, and dipped out the way before the pocket knife in which Sandy had pulled out collider with the wooden door, piercing it right through.

As she sprinted behind the shed she whipped out her phone and prayed for even just a little signal, but came up blank. But she pressed the call button anyways, letting it ring in her pocket.

There was the path to her left. The one which Sandy must have been using to dispose the bodies. If she followed it, it could lead her back to the team. Back to Agent Hotchner who’d know what to do.

The air was went still. Bonnie stifled sobs from pressing her back against the shed, trying to hear footsteps or dirt crunching to get an idea on where Sandy was now.

But there was nothing. Which was more terrifying actually.

Run for it. You’re quick and she’s a little bigger than you are. She might not catch you.

Bonnie crept to the edge of the shed where she reluctantly peeked her head round the corner to see it open. Wanting to not think about anything anymore, her legs took control and she was running towards the path.

That was when Sandy pounced. She was a hunter. Knew how to catch prey in these woods, and she was pretty quick on her feet.

“HELP!” Bonnie screamed into the woods as hot tears rolled down her face. She didn’t have protection like the others with their guns. She had her bare hands and feet that were shaking all over she didn’t know how much she could run.

“HOTCH!” She screamed again, begging for the one member of the team she longed for. His approval, his praise, everything. He was just amazing. So calm and preserved yet caring and understanding. She felt safe when she worked with him and always felt bubbly when he smiled at her. He was the only person she thought of when running.

Sandy was catching at a frightening speed, like a cheeta chasing an antelope, and Bonnies skirt wasn’t in her favour, restricting the movement of her legs, which she would curse out later for possibly being the reason she had been caught so quickly.

Sandy was on top of her again in a flash, but she kicked with all her might and strength in her body to stop the woman from turning her into her next victim.

“Bonnie!” The sound of a man’s voice slipped through her ears, not really processing it at all as her brain was too busy instructing Bonnie on how to dodge a blade.

One hard kick after bringing her knees up close to her chin had done the trick to loosen the larger woman’s grip on her and she crawled backwards, eyes manic with fear but she had forgotten how to stand.

Though she didn’t have to.

“Stop right there!” It was Derek, standing on higher ground pointing his gun directly at Sandy who had not paid him any attention. Instead she was looking hungrily in the direction of Bonnies small frame. Snarling like an animal fighting for food.

The woman lunged and Bonnie screamed.

Then a gunshot.

Bonnies shut eyes tentatively opened, and was horrified by the bloody scene in front of her.

Sandy had been shot through the chest. One clean shot. Her blood pooled around her body, as well as dripped from Bonnies nose.

“Kid?! Are you alright?” Derek’s voice was muffled. She couldn’t stop staring at the woman.

“She tried… she tried to…” she was ashamed on how her sobs broke loose but was comforted by the strong arms of Derek around her.

Picking her up swiftly with the young girl clinging onto his shoulders, legs weak, she watched as Sandy’s lifeless figure became smaller and smaller until she was gone.

She must have fallen asleep or passed out because when she opened her eyes again, her and Derek had just arrived back at the park station.

The strong man put her down and steadied her with his hand.

“You alright? You’re not hurt or anything?” He questioned frantically, checking her for cuts or bruises.

“I don’t know… my arm is a little sore.” Derek pulled her blazer up and winced.

“Must have got you and you didn’t realise. Will need stitches.” His gaze softened and his hand caressed her cheek, it was much more friendly than Sandy’s.

“Some first case right?” She had tried to joke but choked on a sob afterwards.

There was embarrassment and let down. She wanted to be in this field so badly but had fumbled her first chance.

“Bonnie! Oh my god, thank god you’re safe.” Once the pair walked in, Agent Hotchner sped over and had engulfed her in a hug, which she returned tightly. “You did it. You found her, seriously well done.”

She didn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

“Your call to me, Garcia tracked it and Derek found you first. Officers are down at the shed and have found two girls. Without you, they wouldn’t have been found.”

Bonnie could have vomited now with the knowledge that she had been right at that shed and had no idea… but how could she? She tried the door and it was locked. She couldn’t get in if she wanted to. She couldn’t kick down door the way Derek could.

“But I failed.” Her lip quivered.

“Failed?” Jennifer scoffed with a smile. “Bonnie you caught her. And those other girls are safe now because of you. I’d call that success.”

“Days in the field are hard. Sometimes it gets rough.” Agent Gideon nodded his head.

“But if Derek hadn’t-“

“No. Enough. You did good. And I’m sorry for sending you out there alone… if I had any idea then…” Agent Hotchner sighed. “We found out probably the same time as you when we realised Sandy had gone. We were looking everywhere and your call helped us find you.”

Bonnie pulled the phone out of her pocket and checked that it had eventually went through.

“Thank you.” She whispered and Agent Hotchner led her outside with the rest of the team, away to get some medical treatment to which Bonnie still couldn’t really feel her arm. She just knew that it hurt. The blood on her coat said otherwise however.”

Fresh stitches, clean clothes, a good rest. The plane back to DC would be a little while and she was very excited to sleep, though she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to commit to it.

She’d never been attacked like that before. It had been a serious eye opener to who the BAU actually deal with. But then there was thrill to do it all over.

“So…caught your first bad guy today huh?” Emily said with a smirk on her face at the other side of the table in the jet.

Bonnie chuckled. “I guess so.”

“I read your notes. You were ahead of us. I couldn’t imagine how scary that must have been though. Figuring it out alone when the person is right there next to you… that must have sucked ass.”

“It did. But it’s over now.”

Emily winked to Bonnie. “Damn right it’s over. If you were of age I’d offer you a drink.”

“Legal age in Scotland is eighteen y’know.”

“Yeah well, I’m not ready to lose my badge yet.” The two of them laughed. Bonnie didn’t drink anyways, she hated it.

“So… would you like to tell me what the first body you ever saw was then?” Emily asked and Bonnie twisted her mouth as she stared around the window at the soft clouds passing by.

“My dad.” She said absently. “Drug overdose. I was six. Me and my mum have been ourselves ever since.”

Emily frowned deeply and stretched her hand over to where Bonnies lay on the table. “Well, if you ever need someone I’m only a phone call away. We all are. Each of us all have some sort of trouble one way or another… you’re part of the team even if you’re an assistant. You’re part of the BAU.”

Bonnie smiled in spite of the void in her chest, sniffed before closing her eyes.

“Thank you… Emily.”

19 notes · View notes

carmelasopranono1defenseattorney · 1 year ago

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it's so difficult to like plan this far ahead in a show (and possibly this even took place before the show started) but i kind of wish this heroin bust where pussy was absent in las vegas had been a scene earlier in the show. my one main criticism of the sopranos (and it's honestly not just the sopranos it's like, anything in the crime genre) is that so much of the plot is people talking about characters and events we've never seen which for me personally is hard to follow. there's so much of the plot i missed and i'm literally having to keep track of stuff with a notepad this time around

#sopranos sunday #maybe i'm a baby and this is actually super easy to follow if you're into crime fiction like this #but i honestly just prefer the home life storylines

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terbearcollectibles · 2 years ago

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Wizard of Oz MGM Grand the Scarecrow notepad.

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reidsaurora · 2 years ago

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Part Nine: "The Nicer Nurses" ~ S. Reid

Summary: When New Year's arrives, and things begin to go back to normal, both Spencer and Imogen learn valuable lessons: (1) that Spencer is a runner, and (2) how important it is to know the nicer nurses.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Imogen Sterren (bipolar!OC)

Word Count: 2,300

Content Warning: gonna rate this R16+ for slight sexual content (sex + making out are both mentioned but neither are described in detail), physical violence? (Imogen kicks a nurse), takes place at the sanitarium, mentions of medications, mentions of a needle, small mention of food consumption, lmk if i missed anything!

Genre: Fluff to Angst with a lil suggestive stuff?

Extra Notes: we don't need to talk about the summary, it's shite ik

Based On the Song: Soon You'll Get Better by Taylor Swift

Originally Written: 11/24/2022 through 12/24/2022

Beta Read By: @reidsbookclub

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

"Soon You'll Get Better" series masterlist can be found here!

"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤, 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧." - 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞

One week had passed since Christmas. One week had passed since Spencer had realized just how scared he was for a future—or the lack thereof—with Imogen.

The week had been fairly calm. Spencer and Imogen spent their Christmas night wrapped in one another's embrace, entranced by the many things each of their bodies had to offer.

The next morning, the two flew to Las Vegas, hand-in-hand and cheek-to-cheek for the entire five hours of their flight.

The next few days had been spent slowly easing themselves back into their normal routine. Spencer spent most of his time at Bennington with his mother, while Imogen spent most of her time tucked away in her room, blotting down nearly every thought in her head onto her favorite notepad. Spencer had only snuck into Imogen's room once for a steamy make out session, though it was cut short when he had to hide under the bed to keep the nurse from seeing him.

Now, it was New Year's Eve and Spencer found himself savoring every second he had left with his mom before he flew back home the next day.

The two sat side-by-side in the rec room, Diana knitting the last of her yellow blanket and Spencer working on a word search.

"Hey, Mom?" Spencer started, looking away from his book.

Diana placed her knitting needles on her lap, looking up at her son. "Yes, Spencer?"

His stomach flipped as he asked, "How do you know if someone's the one?"

"Well, I've read many a romance novel in my lifetime," she said, placing a hand on the man's knee, "and I can say with complete certainty that… you just know."

"Did you know? With William, I mean." He couldn't bring himself to ever call him 'Dad'.

Her lips formed into a thin line as she thought. After a moment, she answered, "I suppose I did. No one had ever given me that nice, fuzzy feeling in my stomach before I met him."

Diana pouted, looking down. "Though, I suppose he didn't get that feeling from me in return."

Spencer's chest panged as he took his mother's hands in his own. "Hey, it's been almost fifteen years and we haven't needed him yet. Why should we start needing him now?"

"Doesn't mean it hurts any less, son," she reminded him. "Though, I think that's what makes you a much better person than your father."

His eyebrows furrowed. "How do you figure?"

The woman gave him quite possibly the kindest smile he'd ever seen. "You're strong. I know that no matter how hard things get for you, you'd never run away like he did. In fact, you'd stumble headfirst into the fire before you left someone to burn by themself."

He felt a prick of guilt shoot through his stomach as he listened to her words. With every word she said, he felt like doing just that—running. From Bennington, from the mess he'd created with Imogen, from the pain he was sure to feel on his flight home tomorrow.

For a moment, he reconsidered her words. Maybe he had stumbled headfirst into loving Imogen. After everything that happened on Christmas, he wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do or a big, messy mistake.

The room went silent as they turned back to their respective activities. Still, the only way Spencer found to drown out the silence was by letting his mind race, something he was regretting now and knew he'd definitely regret later.

Soon enough, night had fallen and Spencer tip-toed his way into Imogen's room. She lay in bed, reading by way of the dim bathroom light.

"Hey, bookworm," he chuckled as he entered, closing the door behind himself. "Whatcha reading this time?"

"Oh, nothing," she smirked. "Just a little book called Pride and Prejudice."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Why would you pull that old thing out?"

She giggled, dog-earing her page and placing the book on the nightstand. "You know, you remind me of Mr. Darcy in a way."

"I believe he's described as 'haughty, reserved, and fastidious'. Is that correct?"

This time, Imogen was the one to roll her eyes. "Well, yes, but I meant caring and unselfish."

"How do you figure?"

"Well, I certainly know none of my ex boyfriends would hold my hand for five hours just because I was scared of a little turbulence."

He chuckled. "No, that was just because I myself was afraid of the turbulence."

"That too!" she exclaimed. "None of my ex boyfriends would ever admit that fears exist. They'd rather man up and pretend I was a helpless, scared, little girl who needed protection. You, on the other hand, let me protect you too."

He leaned over, kissing her forehead. He pulled away before looking down at his watch. "Hey, we still have an hour until New Year's. Anything you wanna do until then?"

She stayed silent, looking away from him.

"Hey," he said, pulling her chin back up, "you OK?"

Her eyes darted away as she shook her head. "I'm OK. I just have a lot on my mind."

Spencer leaned down, giving her a long and firm kiss. His hand moved from her chin to her cheek—a subtle attempt to deepen the kiss.

He pulled away for a beat before saying, "I think I know a way to distract you."

She scoffed softly. "Are you crazy, Spencer Reid? These doors do not have locks."

"Well, maybe someone will walk in and realize why they should give you locks."

Imogen rolled her eyes, biting the inside of her mouth. "What has gotten into you?"

He pouted, though he considered her words for a moment. Eventually, he answered, "I just want to enjoy you while I still have you."

"Spencer," she said, placing a hand softly on his face, "I'm not going anywhere."

"No, but I am."

Imogen felt her stomach do a somersault. She pulled away from him, not even having the strength to ask what he meant.

Spencer answered anyway, regardless of whether he'd been prompted to or not. "Imogen, I won't have any more vacation days until the end of summer. Are you really prepared to go without seeing me for almost a whole year?"

Without any hesitation, she replied, "Of course I am, Spencer. Because I love you. And I'd like to think you love me just as much. I am willing to make this work if you can."

Tears slid down his cheeks as he looked away, his heart spasming at the idea of having to look into those teal eyes and tell her the exact opposite of what she'd just said.

He didn't have to say it. She knew what was coming. She'd seen it before, when her last boyfriend figured out she was bipolar.

She looked down at her shaking hands, watching as her fingers managed to fidget with each other. "You don't want to make it work, do you?"

He lifted her chin again, looking directly into those ocean blues he loved so much. "It's not that. I just don't want to make you go through that. Not knowing when I'll be back. Knowing that I can't just fly in and help you when you're doing bad. Knowing that you were all the way out here, living a life of misery that I could've prevented… I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"Did you ever stop and think maybe I wouldn't be living a life of misery if I had you in it?"

He sighed, looking away from her. "Immy-"

"Don't 'Immy' me, Spence, OK?" she nearly shouted, sitting up further. Her arms crossed tightly in front of her chest as she continued, "Every time you've used that nickname this week, it's been used in a bad way. I want you to use it in a good way. A way I want to remember. You know, since you're leaving me because my life would just be so awful with you living a thousand miles away."

He gulped hard, but stayed silent. He didn't dare interrupt Imogen Sterren during a rant. Especially not when it was something that needed to be said.

"Spencer, I don't know if you're aware of this or not, but contrary to what you might think, my life has been thirty times better with you in it. Even when you were 2,423 miles away."

"You-"

"Yes, I counted. Because for every mile between us, my love for you stretches ten times further," she told him, tears brimming her eyes.

His head fell. He didn't even have the strength to look at her. "I'm so sorry, sunflower."

Imogen reached over, placing a hand under his chin. "Look at me. Please."

He slowly lifted his head, tears sitting on the edges of his own eyes. His stomach panged with every possible emotion—guilt, worry, sadness, love.

"I love you, Spencer. No amount of miles between us is gonna stop that. I don't care if I don't see you for a decade, I am still going to love you with every inch of my being."

The two shared a slow and passionate kiss, which turned into slow, passionate, euphoric love making. Their hands were clasped together the entire time, as if holding on to one another for as long as they possibly could. The only time their lips parted was when Spencer's watch beeped, prompting him to say, "Happy New Year, sunflower," to which Imogen replied with, "It will be the happiest one yet, because I have you in it this time."

Spencer lay beside Imogen until he was sure she had fallen asleep, only getting up once he heard soft puffs escaping her nose. He left a ghost of a kiss on her hairline before sneaking out of the room and tip-toeing down the hall to his mother's room.

He wasn't entirely sure Diana was asleep when he'd arrived (she was not asleep, but she wasn't going to let him know that), but her eyes were closed and she was bundled up tightly underneath a pink blanket she'd knitted for herself. He left a ghost of a kiss on her forehead as well before climbing under the heated blanket he'd brought along, hoping somehow the warmth of the blanket would transfer to his heart.

The next morning arrived, Spencer only waking up once the nurse came in for Diana's morning medication. He secretly cursed himself for sleeping in so late, knowing he'd regret it the next day when he had to be at work bright and early.

The room stayed silent as he moved from his own bed to the edge of Diana's. The nurse gave him a small smile as she pulled her med cart toward the door, quickly moving on to the next room.

"No! No, no, no!!"

Spencer hopped up from the bed. "That sounded like Imogen," he said, his lungs feeling as though they'd collapse.

He sprinted as fast as his feet would carry him down the hall and into Imogen's room. "Imogen!" he called, shoving the door open.

Imogen squirmed on the bed as the nurse from that first night—Betty he'd learned her name was—attempted to give Imogen her morning medication.

"Imogen, you have to take these medicines!" she shouted, her voice teetering on the edge of lashing out at her.

Spencer breathed heavily, assessing what he should do. He managed to say, "Please don't shout at her. It scares her even more than she already is."

"Mr. Reid," she sassed as she turned around, her voice rising higher, "I've tried just about everything in the book to get Imogen to take these medicines! Unless you have a better idea of what I should do, you should leave."

And with that, she turned back to Imogen. "Imogen, open your mouth. You have to take these medications."

Imogen's jaw clenched down as she squirmed even more, trying to wriggle away from Betty.

The nurse sat the medicine down before grabbing a needle. "Imogen, I'm going to have to give you a shot of Valium, OK?"

Imogen shoved Betty's hand, the needle falling to the floor and rolling underneath the bed. "No! Don't make me take those!"

"Please," Spencer nearly begged, "just bring in one of the nicer nurses. I'm sure she'll listen to them just fine."

"Mr. Reid, you need to get out of here!"

Imogen wriggled again, moving her legs from underneath the blanket. She kicked hard, hitting Betty in the shin and causing her to tumble to the floor.

"Imogen!" Spencer shouted, his eyes growing as big as saucers.

Betty hit the floor with a thud!, a groan escaping her lips. "Aahhh," she winced, "my hip."

Spencer rushed to help Betty out of the floor, but it was no use. She just shoved his hand away. "You started this. She didn't act this way until she met you."

His heart raced as he ran out of the room, tears streaming down his cheeks. He rushed around Diana's room, collecting his things and avoiding eye contact with his mother.

"Spencer?" she asked, looking up from her breakfast.

"Not now, Mom. I'm sorry," he managed to say, rubbing his cheek with the back of his sleeve.

He threw things haphazardly into his duffel bag, for once too preoccupied to make sure everything was in its correct place. He needed to get out of there, and fast.

"Son, what's wrong?" Diana asked, her eyes heavy.

He picked up the duffel from its place on the dresser before ambling over to his mother, giving her a passive kiss on the forehead. "I gotta go away for a while, Mom. I'm sorry."

And with that, Spencer was out the door, running away, exactly like his mother had told him not to.

"𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭." - 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲

As Grecy once said... Spencer went "wheels up in .5"

YALL!!! this chapter was probably the one i've been most looking forward to writing since i outlined this series. i always had this idea of Spencer and Diana bonding when he went back and i feel like i tackled it beautifully if i do say so myself hehehe

anyway, i hope you all enjoyed! i am so excited for you guys to get to the finale of this series fr

also i need everyone to ignore that i didn't post this before midnight, i was celebrating new years ok

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misssophiachase · 4 years ago

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Happy belated International Firefighters’ Day, everyone! Thank you also to the gorgeous and lovely @diaz-eddie who introduced me to the awesomeness that is 911, Eddie Diaz, Christopher and Buddie. So this one is for you, my dear.

Professional photographer Caroline Forbes and firefighter Klaus Mikaelson keep running into each other. It’s either the universe playing a joke on them or Katherine’s ‘accidental’ matchmaking. Or maybe it's a bit of both?

Smoke Signals

“You, you must have been looking for me...sending smoke signals"

Round 1 - Ocean Beach, Sunday 7:53pm

“Now, we each have to cut off a lock of hair and throw it into the fire.”

“Excuse me? I know there’s been a few tequila shots consumed already but we have to do what now?”

Caroline knew from experience that any Katherine Pierce idea was most probably a really bad one. Tonight was case in point.

She’d been best friends with her since first grade when Kat hit Liam McKenzie for taking Caroline’s turn on the slippery slide. So, she was pretty much indebted to her from the outset. They were also currently roommates and business partners so Caroline figured she had the requisite knowledge to call this latest idea one of her very worst.

Kat’s latest distraction, a rather buff looking Mason Lockwood, had decided to leave town to pursue a career in Las Vegas. Given those barely clothed, impressive attributes she’d stumbled upon in the kitchen at breakfast she figured stripping was most probably that vocational change.

Katherine insisted they were just having casual fun, and she didn’t doubt it given the excess noise emanating from her bedroom, but she decided that any break-up needed to be acknowledged hence their impromptu visit to the beach on a cool November evening.

Katherine decided she needed to sacrifice some things to cleanse herself before moving on to the next possibly half-dressed guy, hence the fire.

“I am not sacrificing my perfectly good hair for Magic Mike.”

“What have I told you about calling him that?”

“Sorry, too soon. Although, I thought after burning his best, gold g-string we were done, Kitty Kat.”

“We have the worst luck with guys, Care, we need to completely purge ourselves and start over. So, what better way than burning something meaningful as a way to do that.”

Caroline realised she really should have confiscated the tequila much earlier.

She also wasn’t too sure what she was starting over from given she lived like a nun compared to her roommate. When Caroline was out, she was either on location taking photographs or busily developing them in her dark room. It had been her passion since she was twelve and nothing made her feel more at peace than capturing those beautiful but brief moments in time.

It also didn’t hurt that she was one of the most sought after photographers in the Bay area and had her own studio and gallery on Bartlett Street along with her partner and public relations expert Katherine whose vision and services complemented the business.

“Well, as much as I appreciate the concept, I think there are probably many other things we could do to purge ourselves of bad choices.”

“Like?”

“I don’t know, maybe not make them again? And by that I mean you.”

“Cute,” Kat growled. “We didn’t come all this way to the beach to make false promises, we need to burn something as a memento. I read somewhere that...”

“Okay, crazy, arsonist lady. I have no intention of sacrificing anything, especially my hair or this Victoria Secret, lace, push-up bra I nabbed on sale last week.”

“Well, that’s probably a good thing given this is an illegal bonfire and the fine would probably dwarf the cost of it.”

The interruption was unexpected and she was immediately hostile, even if that crisp accent was kind of annoyingly attractive. Caroline turned around, not expecting the voice to match the, uh, body. She decided to blame it on the fact she was otherwise distracted by the fluorescent, yellow, stripes on his jacket that could never be considered attractive. Ever.

Unfortunately, he still was just that; the glowing flames from the fire highlighting a pair of amused, crimson lips, the perfect amount of well-placed stubble and was that a stray dimple she spied?

Even so, this guy had a nerve interrupting them.

“Should I be worried you know how much my underwear costs?” Probably not the most important issue right now but it was the first thing that came to mind as he produced an official looking notepad.

“It probably wouldn’t be professional to respond to that particular question,” he replied, eyes cast downward as he wrote on his pad dutifully. The dimple she wasn’t completely sure existed made an unexpected but brief reappearance.

Read the rest on AO3 HERE

#happy international firefighter's day #smoke signals #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #misssophiachase #diaz-eddie

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years ago

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A Story in the Life of Killian Jones and Emma Swan by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 1/2

Read on AO3: | Part 1 | Part 2 - Coming tomorrow

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Part 1:

Killian Jones was sitting in the darkened room of Hall D, a video playing on the screen in front of him as he tried to scrawl notes and designs in his notebook. It had been a grueling four days in Las Vegas soaking up everything there was to learn at the Architecture and Design Expo his brother had sent him from England to attend.

Normally it would be his brother Liam who would attend these events, but a freak biking accident had taken Liam off his feet for a few weeks, leaving Killian to attend at the last minute.

Killian disliked boring events, content to stay back running the business in his brother’s absence. He would have preferred that Liam send Neal or Robin to this convention, he saw no need to pretend to be interested in the glitz and glamor of rubbing elbows with others in the business under the lights of Las Vegas. If there was one thing he was certain of after visiting the city, it was that American’s sure did enjoy taking things over the top.

Everything was bigger in Vegas. He found no reason or need for such lavish adornment, and yet he had spent his evening having dinner underneath a replica of the Eiffel tower while watching a water show across the street at the Bellagio. He supposed he should be impressed; someone had spent time designing every corner of the large buildings around him. Yet he couldn’t imagine the millions of dollars that had been spent and paid to create such large attractions for no other reason except to drawn in visitors to spend their hard earned cash for a few hours of entertainment.

As the lights came up in the hall, he shoved his notepad into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, following the crowd into the convention center. He was exhausted and ready to fly back to England in the morning.

He pulled out the stool in front of the bar and tossed his bag on the counter. “Dark and Stormy, please.”

The bartender nodded at him and began making his drink. Killian unlocked his phone sending off a text.

Killian: I’m home in the afternoon, lets meet on the Chamberlin deal. Need to talk money before you fly back.

Killian tapped his fingers against the bar as he reviewed his emails from earlier in the day. Robin had sent him some docs to review, and Liam had set up a few meetings for him in the evening once he landed back in England.

His phone buzzed with a response to his earlier text.

Neal: I think you’re going to like the proposal. See you when you get here buddy.

Killian closed his messages and accepted the drink from the man in front of him. Taking a long sip, he closed his eyes and let the liquid warm him.

“Vodka martini.” A voice sounded beside him. From the corner of his eye, he saw a woman take the seat next to him.

His phone buzzed again, and he looked down to see the text from his brother.

Liam: Need you in some meetings tomorrow when you get back, so don’t get drunk tonight.

Killian grunted as he finished his drink. Shaking his head, he ordered another from the bartender. He tossed his phone into his bag and pounded out a tune with his knuckles as he waited.

“I’ll have a beer and another for the lady.” A voice boomed to his right.

“The lady can order her own drink. Thanks.” The woman beside him growled.

“Come now beautiful, I’m just trying to buy you a drink.” The man insisted.

“I’m not interested.”

“Let me guess, you’re a lesbian.” The man said with a sarcastic tone that caused Killian to pound his fist on the bar.

“I believe the lady said she wasn’t interested.” He said forcefully without looking at the woman beside him. He didn’t need to turn his head to know that the man had skulked away with an angry huff. He didn’t honestly care, he just wanted to enjoy what was left of his evening in peace.

His drink was set on the counter in front of him and he took the glass, quickly tipping it back against his mouth. Exhaling loudly, he stared at the television above the bar.

“I had it handled.” The woman stated a few minutes later.

“I don’t doubt that.” He said simply, keeping his eyes on the television.

He sat in silence for a few minutes, not really paying attention to the news that was flashing across the screen. “You here for the convention?” The woman asked and he finally turned his head toward her, the sarcastic comment about to roll off his tongue died in his mouth the moment their eyes met.

“Aye.” Was all he could muster, his entire mouth suddenly felt like it was full of cotton. The woman beside him was beautiful. Not beautiful like a model or those women you see on television that you know are in no way born with the body they are displaying. This woman was gorgeous in a natural yet mystifying manner. He could barely keep himself from getting lost in the deep green of her eyes.

The bartender handed her a drink and she raised it toward him. “Well, here’s to four days you’ll never get back.”

He smiled, lifting his glass toward her. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, I’m just not really into this shit. I mean, we’re in Vegas, the city that never sleeps and we’re stuck in a room all day. If they wanted us to do that, maybe they should have hosted it in Ohio or somewhere else completely boring.”

“I’m offended, love. I’m from Ohio.”

The woman laughed. “Bullshit, not with that accent.”

“I have an accent?” He feigned shock, grabbing his heart. “I had no idea.”

“Very funny.” She rolled her eyes, and he took the moments distraction to scan his own down the rest of her body. She was wearing a dark blue suit jacket with a matching skirt, with a white button-down shirt under her jacket. She had gorgeous legs and he could see just the tip of her heels peeking out from the tall bar stool. Turning back toward the bar, he took another sip of his drink.

“Are you an architect?” He asked.

“Designer.” She said with a smile. “You must be an architect though.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“You were staring at my legs. Architects are always looking at how things are built.”

His mouth turned up in a smirk. “Aye, I do admire a well-built structure.”

“Of course you do.” She returned the playful banter with a smile of her own.

He swallowed his drink, slamming the glass down on the counter. “I’m not going to apologize for admiring the view.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” She shrugged. “As long as you don’t mind if I do the same.”

His mouth sat open for a moment. “Are you checking me out?”

“Maybe.” She responded, sipping her drink. “There’s always been something a bit sexy about British men.”

“I’m not British, I mean, I live in England, but I’m from Ireland. Just haven’t lived there in a long time.”

Her eyebrow rose playfully. “British and Irish, should I take my panties off now or wait til we leave the bar?”

He turned in his stool so that he was facing her. “That depends, love.”

“On what?” She asked quietly, titling her body toward his.

“Your room or mine?”

“That’s mighty presumptuous of you.”

“Perhaps.” He smirked, turning back toward the bar. “However, you’ve already admitted the accent is a turn on, and I’ve caught you staring more than once, I think you might be quite taken by my devilishly handsome features.” He grinned into his drink before taking a sip. God he had missed this. He hadn’t flirted with a woman in ages. She snorted as she sat her drink back on the bar, the ice clinking around in the glass at the bottom. “Can I buy you another?”

He caught her eye, and she shook her head with a sly smile. “Think I’ve had enough alcohol for one evening.”

“Why, love? You a bit worried you'll find me even more irresistible after a few libations?” He teased.

Her laugh was loud and raucous, but it was like music to his ears. He watched as her head tilted back, a smile widening on her face.

One moment they were sitting in the bar, staring into each other’s eyes and the next they were in the elevator, his mouth on her neck, her hands pressed against his crotch. They barely made it to his room before he had her out of her clothes, her body pressed against his, long legs wrapped around his waist as he fumbled in his wallet for the condom he had kept in his pocket for a year, wasting away from his lack of dating.

He devoured her well into the night, memorizing every exquisite part of her body, down to the freckles on the inside of her thigh.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t been with a woman before, back in university he and Neal spent their evenings at the local bar looking for the next woman to warm their bed, but that had been years ago and as he had aged he grew tired of bedding a woman simply to prove he could.

He hadn’t intended to have relations with anyone on his trip to Vegas until he laid eyes on the woman who shared his bed that evening. She enchanted him, brought every one of his senses to life simply by looking at him. Sex with her had awakened something in him that had laid dormant inside him for years.

Burning need and desire.

He couldn’t get enough of her, the sound he elicited when his tongue slipped between her folds, the way she moaned when he entered her, or the way she leaned against his chest once they were both sated and physically exhausted.

He held her in his arms until his body finally gave way to sleep, content and relaxed.

When his alarm went off on his bedside table the next morning, he groaned as he turned it off, rolling over to find the bed empty beside him.

She was gone. It was in that moment that he realized he never asked her name. Another chapter in the sad story of the life of Killian Jones.

~*~

3 years later

“I hate flying.” Robin squirmed in the seat beside him.

“Would you stop acting like a pussy.” Liam groused as he poured a small bottle of rum into his diet coke.

“I’m just saying it’s not natural to fly, we aren’t birds.” Robin countered.

“Would you prefer we swam here, brother?” Liam teased and Robin grabbed the drink sitting in front of him and downed the entire thing.

“Bloody hell, that was mine.”

Killian stared out the tiny window as the world got smaller below him. It would be another seven hours before they landed in New York. Neal Cassidy, his childhood friend, and co-worker was getting married. Neal had been located at the same branch as Killian in London since they began working for Liam. But after traveling every few months to New York to run the accounting portion of the business, Liam allowed him to relocate to New York four years ago. It had been a year since Killian had last seen his friend and now he was getting hitched.

Neal had been unusually quiet about his personal life, no one at the firm had even met this mysterious woman that he had been seeing for the last 3 and a half years. When she gave birth to their son a couple of years back, no one was more shocked than Killian to get a photo of a newborn with the caption, “Look what I made” underneath it. Neal had always been a ladies’ man, children were never a priority for him, so seeing him on the screen with a child in his arms was something he could hardly believe.

Killian had called Neal that evening, demanding to know why they had been kept in the dark for so long only for Neal to act his usual self, promising to provide more details when they all could meet in person.

Six months ago, he received a photo of a woman’s hand with a large diamond ring on it, captioned “she said yes.” He was happy for his friend, and anxious to meet the woman who had stolen him away from them for so long.

“Maybe she only has one eye.” Killian snapped his attention to the conversation going on beside him. “Or she’s unusually grotesque.” Robin was stating.

“Are you talking about the last woman you bedded, mate?” He teased.

“This Emma woman that Neal is marrying, we were just saying that Neal has never sent a photo of her.” Liam answered. “Seems odd.”

“Seems like something Neal would do. Most likely she’s bloody gorgeous and he was afraid one of us would steal her away if he showed us her photo.” Killian shrugged.

“Well, you do have a history of…” Robin began.

“Bugger off, Shelia doesn’t count. Neal wasn’t even interested in her.” Killian countered.

“But he was in love with Susan, and I seem to recall he found you in bed with her the morning after she spent the night with him.”

“Is it my fault that she was roaming our flat at 3am in nothing but lacy panties and a smile?” He joked.

“You’re impossible.” Liam snorted.

“I’m happy for Neal. Honestly, I never saw him settling down, he was always a selfish bastard, I’m shocked he had time to make an honest woman out of this lass.” Killian shrugged.

“Love is magic, mate.” Robin winked.

“Makes many a man falter and give up his selfish ways.” He brother sighed.

“And that’s why I avoid love at all costs.” He mumbled.

“He’ll never get laid again, the stupid git.” Robin laughed.

“A toast to the poor bastard.” Liam raised his glass. “May his drinks be as plentiful as his balls will be blue.”

“To Neal…” They all cheered.

~*~

Emma ran around the apartment picking up dishes and clothing that had been left strewn throughout the rooms. There were toys littering the floor of every corner in the apartment. Henry was barely a few months older than two and he had more toys than he could even play with in a full day.

She needed the apartment to look clean, or perhaps clean enough so she didn’t look like a failure as a mother and future wife. But the house was a wreck, and she had no time to keep up with it.

Today she was finally going to meet Neal’s co-workers, who were practically the only family he had growing up. She had heard so much about them, or as much as Neal would share with her, and they were finally coming to New York for the wedding on Sunday.

She was so anxious that the men Neal had grown up with would find her to be lacking as a match for their friend. In particular, she was most interested in the opinion of Killian Jones, he was Neal’s closest friend and the one who knew best what Neal was like when he was younger. She couldn’t wait to hear stories about him. Neal was a private person and kept much of his past life hidden from her, but Emma was naturally curious what he had been like before she met him.

“Are you wearing that?” Emma looked up as Neal entered the living room, standing in front of her in a blue button-down shirt and jeans. She looked down at her yoga pants and stained t-shirt.

“Yes Neal, after I cleaned the toilet, I thought I would just stay in these clothes to meet your closest friends.” She said with a snort. “I’m changing after I finish the living room.”

“Oh, ok good. Not that I don’t appreciate the yoga pants, but I’d prefer you not have your ass on display when you meet Killian.” He walked up, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Just Killian? Not Robin or Liam?” She narrowed her eyes. “Interesting, is there a story you aren’t telling me?” She teased.

He fidgeted for a moment and then smiled. “Just a little brotherly rivalry.” He bent his head to her neck, pecking lightly at her skin.

“Ah, well, don’t forget, you’re the one I’m marrying.” She reassured him.

“Wanna prove that to me right now.” He growled against her ear as their son bobbled into the room.

“Mama…”

Neal sighed and she felt his weight against her shoulder as he deflated against her. She stepped out of his embrace and picked up her son. “Hey bud, you ready for a bath?” She asked excitedly.

“Bubbas.”

“Yes with bubbles.” She said, offering an apologetic glance in Neal’s direction. “Rain check, babe.”

“One of these days I’m gonna need the sun to shine…” She heard him shout playfully as she took Henry to the bathtub.

Emma ran the water, setting her son into the tub. She knew Neal was frustrated, their lack of sex lately had been noticeable to her as well, but she could rarely help how tired she was after a long day in the office and then taking care of Henry once she got him home from daycare. Neal was ok at parenting, but he wasn’t the most attentive parent, so Emma spent a lot of time keeping a watchful eye on Henry as he became more curious around the apartment.

Emma did love her life. She loved her son. And she loved Neal.

She wasn’t always sure that she wanted to settle down with him, she had struggled when he asked her to move in with him. Emma did what she always did the night he asked her, she ran. She had a convention in Vegas that week and she used it as the perfect excuse to postpone her answer.

Of course, that excuse turned into an entirely different problem in Vegas. A sexual encounter with a stranger she met at a bar, something she had never done in her entire life, ultimately made her realize that she needed to stop running and settle down. She was getting too old to begin having one-night stands, it was time to grow up. So, she did what every responsibleadult should do when they reached a certain age, she did the walk of shame back to her hotel room, got on a plane, moved in with Neal, and acted like a grown up.

And then she found out she was pregnant and well, here she was now…a two-year-old son, a busy life, and finally giving in to the M word. Marriage. She shivered as she thought about the approaching date. She was going to be someone’s wife soon.

It was all part of the plan, she reminded herself.

Neal had a 5-year plan, get married, have another kid, buy a house, and retire to Florida. Emma had resisted getting on board with the plan, she didn’t understand why they needed to map out every aspect of their life. She was used to just doing what felt natural to her.

Though she supposed that’s what got her into this whole mess to begin with.

Had she walked away from the bar that night, had she not gotten into an elevator with a man who’s name she still didn’t know…perhaps things would be different. Maybe her life would have taken her somewhere else.

Lately she spent a lot of time thinking about the what ifs of Emma Swan’s life. What if she had left the bar alone that night, would she still be marrying Neal? What if she stayed until the man woke up that morning, would she have asked his name? What if she got his number? Would he still be in her life?

She brushed her son’s dark hair out of his face and smiled down at him, his blue eyes shining back at her. She knew she wouldn’t change anything in her life, without the decisions she had made, good or bad, she wouldn’t have her son. Henry was the most important thing in her life. She would do anything for him.

She supposed if the man in the hotel room had taught her anything, it was how to love something so fierce that you would do anything to hold on to it. Even if she never knew his name, he had given her the most important thing in the world. Henry.

Neal never questioned her; never took into account that she became pregnant almost immediately after moving in with him. There was always the chance that the child could be Neal’s, and she couldn’t bear to tell him the truth about the man in the hotel, the man she was with before she had settled on Neal. It was selfish on her part, but she didn’t know the man’s name she had spent the evening with, so he could never be a father to Henry, but Neal could. She was always determined that she would make that be enough for Henry.

~*~

Killian grabbed his bags from the turnstile, heaving the strap onto his shoulder. He watched as Robin struggled with another woman over his own bag, arguing over who the bag belonged to.

“I beg your pardon, are you telling me that your name is Robin Locksley as well?” He pointed to the name on the bag with an indignant stare. “Of course you aren’t.” The woman removed her hand and Robin dragged the bag away from her with a triumphant raise of his chin.

“Did you want to take her outside?” Killian joked. “Perhaps a lashing is in order.”

“Bugger off.”

“He gets very cranky when he travels.” Liam whispered as Robin flashed his middle finger in their direction. Killian laughed and followed his brother through the halls of the airport. They were to meet Neal outside the terminal where he was going to pick them up.

The moment they stepped into the sunlight of New York City he recognized Neal stepping out of his car. “Jones.” He greeted him with a hug.

“Cassidy. Where’s the ball and chain? I’m starting to think she’s not real.” He joked.

“Trust me, she’s real. She’s back at the apartment, Henry gets cranky in the evening, so we thought it best he take a nap before we go to dinner. I’ll drop you at your hotel and we can all meet back up at the restaurant.”

“Who the hell are you? You sound so domesticated.” Robin wrinkled his nose as he reached them, embracing Neal in a hug.

“You know me, I’ll never be fully domesticated, but I suppose it can’t all be helped.” He laughed. “Shall we?”

Killian climbed into the back of the car, watching the city fly by as they drove to their hotel. He had been to the city before, they had done business in New York a multitude of time in the past, but he hadn’t been back to the states since his trip to Las Vegas. Since her.

Many nights, he found himself imagining what her name could be. He would sometimes dream about her, she would introduce herself, her name on the tip of her tongue and then he would wake up in a cold sweat, still wondering what it was, or if he would ever find out.

He scanned the faces of the pedestrians walking by, always hoping that one day, he would see her face. He knew that was ridiculous, she was one in millions, he had no idea where she even lived.

“What does one even say to a baby?” Robin asked as he stepped into the hall from his room. “Do two-year old’s talk?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine; just pretend you’re talking to Killian.” Liam scoffed as they entered the elevator.

“You’re hilarious brother.”

“But I’m not wrong.” He winked, climbing into the cab as they headed out that evening.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Killian could feel the anticipation of finally meeting the woman of Neal’s dreams. Would she be short, tall, maybe a red head, or perhaps dark hair, Neal had always been attracted to dark haired women?

When they entered the restaurant they were led to a back room where Neal was waiting for them, he approached them immediately, hugging him with a giant smile. “I’m so glad you guys made it. I hope you were able to get a short rest at the hotel.” Killian smiled as Neal turned toward the back of the room. “I want you to meet, Emma.”

A woman approached them, blonde hair bobbing at her shoulders, she stepped next to Neal and his heart stopped the moment their eyes met. It was impossible. This couldn’t be happening.

“Emma, this is Killian.” The woman swallowed, extending her hand without a word. He blinked, trying to stop his chest from heaving, needing to catch his breath. He looked at Neal, waiting for the cameras to jump out from behind him and announce that he had just been pranked on one of those ridiculous comedy shows American’s loved so much.

Robin elbowed him and he flinched back to reality, lifting his hand to take hers, he smiled nervously. “Nice to finally meet you Emma.” He barely recognized his own voice, and he was sure she had paled when his eyes met hers again, certain that she was suddenly having the same panic attack as he was.

“I can hardly believe we’re meeting like this.” She said with a shaky breath and a nervous laugh.

“You’re telling me.” He laughed uncomfortably. Robin glanced at him with narrowed eyes and Killian dropped the woman’s hand.

“This is…” Emma started. “Just wow. I mean…wow.”

“I’m Robin.” He interrupted the trance that was held over Emma and Killian’s stare, pressing his hand between them to shake hers.

“And this is the big man, Liam.” Neal smiled largely. “He’s the entire reason we met.” He said proudly. “If he hadn’t sent me to New York for that negation, I never would have met you at all.”

Killian cursed under his breath as he glared angrily at his brother.

“Mama…” A child with dark brown hair, nestled his way between them, reaching up to pull on his mother’s skirt. Emma reached down and lifted the boy against her chest. Her hand instinctively brushing his hair back from his face.

“Um, this is Henry.” She said timidly. “My…our son.” She added as she looked at Neal. The boy turned his attention toward Killian, the brightest blue eyes staring back at him. He bit his lip, a strange sensation overtaking him as he felt sweat start to bead on his brow. Something about the child clearly affected him, something he couldn’t explain.

“He’s adorable.” Robin mused, making a face at the boy.

“I’m two.” The child said, holding up his fingers.

“Two years old, I’m surprised he’s survived that long with Neal around.” Liam joked.

“We just had his birthday party a few months back and he was just so amused by everything at the party.”

Killian was counting on his fingers, adding numbers in his head. It was ridiculous and yet staring at the boy, seeing his face, his blue eyes, the fact that he looked nothing at all like Neal and so much like…

No. It wasn’t possible.

“When’s his birthday?” Killian interrupted and Emma jerked her head in his direction.

“August 15th, right in the middle of the hot summer, it was rough on Emma.” Neal laughed.

Not possible. He stepped away from the table, mumbling to himself. “9 months…that’s November…convention was on the 11th…”

“Have a drink.” Robin pressed a beer into his hand.

“I need rum.” He grumbled, looking over at the woman currently at the crux of all his anxiety.

“What’s your problem?”

“Nothing, I just…I need air.” He pushed his way out of the room, stumbling toward the bar at the front of the restaurant. “Rum, ice. Make it a double.” He said in a haze.

“We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.”

Killian glared at the woman who stepped up to the bar next to him. “Were you already with him…” He asked, refusing to make with the niceties any longer. “The night we met?”

She sighed. “It was complicated.”

He laughed loudly. “Apparently so.” Grabbing his drink he sank the shot, swallowing the liquid with a gulp. “Does he know?”

“About us?”

“No not about us. Of course he doesn’t know about us, if he knew that, he never would have invited me here. I’m talking about your son. Does he know the lad isn’t his?”

She paled, blinking a few times as she looked around the bar nervously. “What are…” He laughed again as she feigned some sort of ignorance at the topic, gesturing for the bartender to bring him another round.

“I know how math works.” He remarked softly, staring at her hands. “He was born in August, that’s nine months after the conference.”

“I was already dating Neal before the conference, even if it wasn’t exclusive, sex was involved.”

“So you’ve said, but I never did think that boy looked much like Cassidy. I chalked it up to grainy photos over the internet, but seeing him in person, well that just smacks you right in the face doesn’t it, love.”

“I couldn’t tell him. And I didn’t know who you are. I didn’t know what to do so I…”

Killian couldn’t stop his laughter, grabbing his drink and downing the liquid again in one shot. “So, you lied to my best friend, trapped him into having your kid, my kid?”

“It wasn’t like that.” She shot back. “You weren’t there, you don’t know what it was like being faced with raising him on my own.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t disappeared in the middle of the bloody night.” People were beginning to look at them and Killian lowered his head and turned back to the bar.

“What did you want me to do? Drop my life? Beg you not to go back to London because of one night together? We had sex, that’s all it was.”

“And you didn’t think it pertinent information to try and let me know I had a son?”

“I didn’t know your fucking name.” She screamed, tears dripping from her eyes before she reached out and laid her hand on his arm. “I did what I had to do; I’m not going to apologize to you for that. I’m just asking you not to destroy my life.” He met her eyes and found fear behind her green irises. He realized she was terrified that he could take everything she had away from her by telling Neal her truth.

He sighed. “I’m not going to ruin your life, love.”

“You’re not going to tell Neal.”

He shook his head and closed his eyes. “I’ve never lied to him before, but I have fucked shit up for him in the past. I don’t want to be responsible for doing that now. But be careful love, because eventually, the truth always comes out.”

“I really am sorry.”

“For which part, cheating on Cassidy, having sex with me, disappearing without a trace, or giving birth to a child I knew nothing about?"

“I didn’t cheat on him. We weren’t exclusive yet.”

“Aye love, that will help me sleep better at night.” He stood from his seat, leaving her standing at the bar alone wiping her eyes.

~*~

Emma stared at herself in the mirror of the restroom. She had streaks of mascara on her cheeks and her eyes were red. She knew she needed to clean herself up and get back to the dinner table. Neal would start to wonder where she had gone. She was sure that Henry had probably gotten into something he shouldn’t have by now.

She reapplied her lipstick, cleaned her face and took a deep breath. She had no idea how she was going to get through this night, much less the weekend.

When she saw Killian standing there, still the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on, she almost vomited on the floor. At first she thought she must have died and was stuck in some sort of purgatory where you are forced to face your worst fears, in the same room, all at the same time, and then he took her hand, and everything stopped.

He was there right in front of her, the man she had wondered so often about, the father of her child. Standing right there in front of her, and of course he would be Neal’s best friend.

Fuck. Life really did have it out for her.

She knew the moment he laid eyes on her son, their son, that he had known the truth she desperately wanted to remain hidden. She could see the wheels turning in his head. Everything she had worked so hard to build would be ruined, destroyed.

It was selfish, she knew that. He had a right to know his son, but after all these years, she had thought that wasn’t possible. She had moved on, accepting Neal as Henry’s father. She had convinced herself that she had done the right thing by Henry. And now she couldn’t ignore the screaming in her head that one day soon she was going to have to face the consequences for her deception.

But she couldn’t deal with that now, not days before the wedding. She would tell him later. Once the wedding was over, once Killian had returned home, once she was ready…who was she kidding? She was never going to be ready for this.

She returned to the back room, taking her place next to the man she was going to marry.

“You alright?” He asked as she sat down.

“Yes, I haven’t eaten all day, just feeling sick to my stomach.”

“As long as you aren’t pregnant again.” He laughed loudly and Emma felt Killian’s eyes staring into her. “Last time was hell. Never seen a woman vomit like that, except for maybe on the Exorcist.”

“Neal…” She glared. “I’m sure your friends don’t want to hear horror pregnancy stories.”

“I find them quite fascinating.” She heard Killian lament across from her. “Do tell Neal, how did the two of you find out that Emma was pregnant.”

She glared at him from her spot at the table, but Neal carried on. “Honestly, she’d been gone so much during that time we thought she was just tired from all her traveling or perhaps that she had caught some sort of illness from being around all sorts of people.”

“One never can be too careful with travel.” He said, lifting his glass and taking another sip of his drink. Emma wanted to smack the glass out of his hand.

“Exactly, did you know that you had the chance to meet Emma back then?” Emma choked on her water.

“Do tell?” Killian smirked.

“I didn’t know it at the time, but she attended that convention, the one in Vegas that you had to attend because Liam forgot how to ride a bike.” Liam gestured inappropriately at Neal.

“Did she now?” Their eyes met and she narrowed hers. “How unfortunate that our paths never crossed.”

“Small world right?” Neal laughed. “But fortunate for me.”

“Why is that Cassidy?”

“Well, if she had met you, she might have never come home to me. I know how well that Jones charm works on women. It’s that fucking accent, man. I could never compete.”

“You did quite well for yourself as I can recall.”

“Except for the ones you stole right out from under my nose.” He winked. “Bastard always took the best ones out from under me.”

Killian blinked, finishing his drink as if he was contemplating how to respond. “Well, looks like the best man won this time. Seems you’ve bested me.” Emma swallowed hard as his eyes met hers. She felt Neal’s arm wrap around her shoulder.

“I won the lottery with this one.” He beamed and Emma felt the sharp knife dig a little further into her chest.

“Aye, you certainly have, Mate.” Killian responded softly and Emma forced herself to look away, avoiding the sincere gaze of regret across the man’s face.

~*~

“You were in rare form tonight, brother.” Liam lectured in the cab. “It wasn’t a bachelor party; you know that right?”

“Aye, but we were celebrating.” He countered with an angry slur.

“Not with the entire liquor cabinet.” He responded in disgust.

“Apologizes for not living up to your expectations.” He pouted.

He avoided the disapproving glare from the front seat, focusing only on the blur outside the window of the cab. When he got to his hotel room, Robin stayed back as Liam bid them goodnight.

“What got into you tonight?”

“Can’t a man be excited for his best friend to marry the love of his life?”

Robin chuckled. “He can, but I didn’t sense that you were there to congratulate him. Do you not approve of Emma?”

“What’s to approve of, he’s in love with her, she has a child…”

“Well yes, and they are getting married.”

“How wonderful for them.” Killian opened the door to his room, groaning as Robin entered behind him.

“I’ve never known to you be so sour when meeting someone, it was like you wanted to stab the woman in the eye all night.”

“Oh, to be so blunt.” He groaned, reaching for the tiny bottle of rum in his mini bar.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough alcohol tonight?”

“There isn’t enough alcohol in all the world to cure what ails me.” He shot back.

“Henry was cute wasn’t he, it’s hard to believe that of all the people we know, Neal would be the first to procreate.”

He snorted a laugh, taking a large gulp of his drink. “Find it hard to believe myself. Odd that he looks nothing like him, don’t you think.”

“Killian.” The man said with a warning tone.

“Is it a crime to point out the obvious.” He said loudly.

“Can you try just being happy for your best friend for once, without there being some reason to doubt it. I swear, I have no idea what made you such a cynic, but sometimes good things just happen to good people.”

He scoffed. “But not to me. I just get fucked up the arse, don’t I?”

“What is your problem, mate?”

“That could have been me.” He shouted. “I could be getting married, a child in my lap, staring at the woman who made me happier than I’ve ever been, but of course that goes to Neal.”

“Killian, you don’t even date, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Why should he have everything!” He shouted. “He gets to live my life. With my child. With her.”

“You’re not even making sense, you’re drunk, go to bed.” Robin spat as Killian reached out for the wall, feeling the room spin around him. He turned and slid down the wall of his room.

“I met her in Vegas.” He said through tears. “I didn’t even know her name.”

Robin turned around and faced him, hands on his hips. “Bloody hell, tell me you’re fucking around right now!”

“I wish I was. I swear I never knew she was with Neal. Not until tonight. Not until I saw that boy.”

“Oh my God.” Robin paced the room until realization washed over him, he walked over to the mini bar and poured himself a drink before draining all the liquid in the glass. “How is this possible?”

“Someone hates me up there.” He laughed.

“You’re serious aren’t you.” His friend exclaimed as he sat down on the floor next to him.

“Aye. I met her at that bloody conference. We had the most amazing sex I’ve ever had in my life; it’s haunted me ever since. I never got her name; I had no idea she was with Neal. But tonight, the moment I saw that boy, those damn blue eyes, I knew.”

“Are you sure?”

“She all but confirmed it when I spoke to her, she’s worried I’ll ruin the ruse with Neal by telling him the truth.”

“You can’t tell him.” Robin insisted suddenly.

“I have a child.” He stated angrily.

“I know, but…” Robin sighed. “He’s Neal’s. He has been for over 2 years. What are you going to do, walk in there and tell him you took yet another thing from him?”

“That’s not my fault. I didn’t know.”

“I know that, and honestly I’m sorry, this sucks. But Killian, he’s getting married in two days.”

“I’ve thought about her for over two years.”

“Thinking and doing something about it are two different things. While you’ve been having wet dreams, Neal’s been raising this child, living with Emma, he’s getting married to Emma.”

Killian hit his head against the wall behind him. “If I had known, I would have destroyed heaven and earth to find her.”

“You have to let it go.” Robin said softly.

“I’m supposed to just pretend like I never saw that boy?”

“Yes.” He said matter-of-factly. “Move on, go home, continue on with your life.”

“How is that fair?” He asked sadly.

“It’s not. Look I don’t know what to say here. You met her once…”

“She’s haunted me every day since she left.” He responded honestly. “I haven’t been with a woman since.”

“Ok, so I don’t know what to unpack there. The fact that a woman you slept with once is that good in bed that you can’t stop thinking about her, or the fact that you haven’t slept with someone for over two years.”

“Either way, I’m in hell.” He grumbled.

“The fact still stands; Neal is marrying her in two days. He’s your best friend.”

“I hate him. He doesn’t deserve her.”

“You don’t hate him. He took care of her; he took care of her child. No matter who made the boy, Neal has been his father. Has she said anything that has given you cause to think that she doesn’t want to go through with marrying Neal?”

He turned toward Robin and glared. “I hate you too.”

“I am sorry. I’m sure this was not how you expected this trip to go. I wish you would have shared this torment with me earlier.”

He hung his head against his chest. “How do I just walk away?”

The man beside him sighed. “You hold your head high, be there for your best friend, and go back to your life. It won’t be easy, but it’s the right thing to do.”

Killian cried softly, feeling the arms of his friend wrap around his back. Just this once, he didn’t want to do the right thing. He wanted everything. But alas, he knew his friend was right.

~*~

Emma woke the next morning with a heavy weight sitting on her chest. The evening prior had gone worse than she could have ever imagined. She rolled over and reached for the man beside her, only to find an empty pillow.

The door opened and Neal walked in with a tray. “Good morning, future wife.”

Emma sat up on her elbows. “What’s this?”

“I figured since I wasn’t going to see you until the wedding, I’d feed you before I go.”

“You’re leaving already?” He leaned over and kissed her on the head.

“Yeah, gonna go out with the boys tonight, I’m staying at the hotel.”

She frowned. “I thought you were coming home tonight?”

“I can’t come home drunk the night before the wedding.” He laughed. “You’ll be good though, you’ve got Henry.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll just see you at the ceremony.” She frowned.

“Come on Ems, it’s just one day. We’ll have the rest of our lives to see each other.” He patted her on the head before picking up his keys and leaving the apartment.

Emma spent the rest of the morning wandering nervously around the apartment, she needed to get out of the house, to clear her mind. She dressed Henry and put him in his stroller, heading toward the park.

Emma wished she had a mother or even a girlfriend to share all her problems with. Right now, she just needed someone to talk to. Henry cooed in his stroller and Emma absentmindedly shook the toy in front of his face. “Mama sad.”

Emma looked down at her son and smiled. “I’m not sad, baby.”

“Mama sad.” He babbled again.

“I’m not sad, I just…” She watched as her son grinned at her. She envied the innocence of a small child. “I never thought I’d see your dad again.” She realized how ridiculous it was that she was talking to her two-year-old child about her problems. “I only met him once.” She continued, knowing she had no one else to talk to about this. “He was beautiful.” She mused. “You have his eyes, you know. Those bright baby blues that have me completely at your will.” The boy laughed and Emma lifted him into her arms.

“I don’t know what to do.” She gulped as a tear slid down her cheek. “Neal’s been good to us. But I can’t help but wonder…” She sighed. “Is it fair to you, not knowing who your father is?” The boy pressed his palm against her cheek.

“Mama sad.”

She laughed. “Ok yes, Mama’s sad.”

~*~

Killian threw his empty beer bottle onto the ground, reaching over to grab another one from the cooler. “Yeah but didn’t you have sex with Kayla anyway?”

Killian watched Neal and Robin sitting in the lounge chairs across from him. “I had to get to her before Killian did.”

He rolled his eyes, “You act like I fucked everyone you’ve ever laid eyes on, Mate.” He said with an icy tone and Robin shook his head warily.

“Someone’s cranky.” Neal teased.

“I’m not bloody cranky, I’m just tired of you making everything that ever went wrong in your life somehow my bleeding fault.”

“It’s just jet lag.” Robin interjected before Neal could respond. “Perhaps you need a nap.”

Killian titled his beer back and swallowed. “Perhaps.” He knew he was behaving poorly; he just couldn’t control himself.

“We got a few hours before we head out tonight, why don’t you go lie down. I need my best man in the right frame of mind.” Standing up, Neal walked over and held out his hand to Killian, pulling him up from his chair. “Brothers for life, man.”

Killian patted the man on the back. “Brothers for life.” He repeated.

He walked slowly back to his room but stopped short as he turned the corner. Emma was standing in front of his door, a stroller next to her, and a screaming child in her arms.

“Emma?”

#stacy's fics #A story in the life #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #captain swan modern au #captain swan fics #captain swan au

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fiddlepickdouglas · 4 years ago

Text

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 11 - De Orfeo Records

Summary: Sunset Cure AU, Willex, is there a chance?, 2.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Reggie and Carlos were running around in the middle of taking down equipment after their latest gig. Luke shook his head as he wrapped cords over his arm and placed them in a storage box. Alex, however, was nervously trying not to get run into as he carried various pieces of his drum set out and handed them to Bobby in the back of the van. He could forgive Reggie not really helping out since he was taking responsibility for the kid, but also hadn’t anticipated that their energies combined would put him more on edge.

As he went inside to grab the last piece of his set, he found that Reggie had taken his flannel and tied it around his neck like a cape, with Carlos wearing his leather jacket in a similar fashion. They approached Bobby, who immediately joined their game and they pretended to battle each other. By the time Alex had finished getting his whole set in the van, they were playing out a dramatic victory over defeating Bobby.

“Guys, this is great, but we really should finish packing up,” Alex said, although he was smiling from the entertainment.

“I guess you’re the next bad guy we fight,” Carlos said in a mock-deep voice.

“We can schedule it later, Robin,” Alex teased.

“Oh, no, he’s Batman,” Reggie corrected. “I’m Robin!” He put his fists on his hips in a proud superhero pose.

A big SHHHHHH came from Luke and they all looked over at him to see what was up. He was far off by the venue office, holding a phone to his ear and writing onto a notepad. His eyes were wide with excitement, and his energy was only held back by the other hand tapping against the paper. The boys watched as his smile grew bigger and he said goodbye, barely putting the phone back in place properly.

“YEEESS!!” he cried, raising his fists into the air in celebration. They all came running toward him to see what had happened.

“Boys, we’ve got good news!” Luke told them. Looking on in anticipation, Alex gripped his fanny pack tightly. “One of the record execs that came tonight is offering for us to sign onto their label and put out some songs! He even heard our demo!”

Everyone celebrated, jumping up and down and high-fiving each other. Reggie let Carlos climb onto him in a piggyback and they both yelled triumphantly. Luke pulled Alex into a bro hug, then Bobby. Alex held his arms up and placed his hands on top of his head, unable to believe what had just happened. Euphoria filled his head like helium and he went to double-high-five Carlos, who was still perched on Reggie’s back.

“So what else did they say?” Bobby asked, still smiling.

Luke had to shake off some more excitement before he could explain the rest.

“Ahhh, so he said we could meet in a few days to discuss business and contracts and such, let us get a look at the studio and stuff. I got all his contact information and he’s totally excited to get us on. We’re moving on up boys!”

The celebration continued, and their renewed energy caused the rest of the take-down to go by much faster. They were still riding the high as they drove home. Alex listened to Luke talk about which songs they would want to record first and where they would land on the charts. He remembered that feeling he had back at the Pearl during their sound check. Doing that? For real and not just dreaming and hoping about it? They hadn’t made it just yet, but this was a change he could be excited for.

Reggie had been staying with Carlos, which the rest of the boys figured was a good excuse to not stay home. As Bobby pulled up to the house, he and Luke began climbing out of the van. Carlos and Reggie were already inside.

“Uh, guys?” Alex said, still in the back of the van. They all turned back to him. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” Luke gestured like oh-silly-me. “We all decided to stay here for the night. It’s just a nice change from the garage and Julie’s aunt has lots of leftovers that need to be eaten so…”

“So...I’m grounded,” Alex reminded, raising his eyebrows. His parents hadn’t been happy about him sneaking out to the pier the other night.

“Screw your old man, Alex,” Bobby said.

“Yeah, he can eat my shorts if he tries to do anything about it,” Luke added.

Alex took a moment to think. Disobeying wasn’t going to do anything for or against him at this point - he kept anything truly important to him out of his parents’ reach and since he’d gotten the punching bag he could actually contend with their tempers. They couldn’t punish him in a way that mattered.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” he said finally, following them into the house.

They found Reggie and Carlos already raiding the kitchen.

“Alex, you’re staying too?” Reggie said when he saw them enter.

“Yes!” Carlos cried, pumping his fist. “You get to make popcorn. Tonight, the Empire Strikes Back!”

“Oh yeah, baby!” Reggie responded as the rest of the boys began following orders from Carlos. Alex wasn’t crazy about Star Wars, but eh….young Mark Hamill was hot so he didn’t mind too much. He was sure most of them would fall asleep during the movie anyway.

A couple hours later it turned out he was right. Carlos was slumped on the floor leaning back against the chair Luke was sitting in, hand still in the bowl of popcorn. Luke was leaning on his hand, breathing soundly. Alex had watched earlier as Bobby’s head flopped onto Reggie’s shoulder and the flustered look that had overcome Reggie’s face, and it was too good not to smile at. Once the VCR began automatically rewinding the movie, Alex shut off the TV.

He stared at the ceiling as he pulled the handle on the La-Z-Boy he was in and reclined into a somewhat comfortable position. Even now, weeks later after meeting for only a day, the first thing he wished he could do was tell Willie the news about the record label. He probably would have been just as ecstatic as the rest of them, if not more. Victoria would be back soon and hopefully have some news. He guessed it didn’t matter if he’d been right about the missing kid, but maybe just knowing if she got to talk with Willie would be enough.

The memory of soft brown eyes still rose in his mind. He’d been doing his best to keep that moment cemented in his brain because he’d noticed it helped him sleep. It was funny because he’d done the same thing with the guys, but staring into Willie’s eyes had been an entirely different experience. Alex wished he had the proper words to describe it, but the best he could do was marvel. Willie was clearly unaware of the strength he held, and it made Alex want to bring that out with his entire being. If he ever did get the chance, that would be something worth looking forward to.

Victoria didn’t arrive until the afternoon the next day. Since Alex felt that she had gone because of him, he made everyone else clean her house as well as they could. No traces of food on the floor, no messy beds, and the kitchen was cleaner than when they had found it. As she came back into the house, she put a hand over her heart.

“Wow!” she exclaimed. “I should take trips like this more often if you boys are this good!”

“Yes, tía, please, please, please let them babysit me again! Pleeeeaaassee!” Carlos begged with his hands pressed together.

“Ay, sobrino, no me quieres?” she shook her head.

“No, I do!” Carlos tried to recover. “But they’re fun!”

As if to make a point, Reggie rubbed a hand on Carlos’ head.

“It’s okay little dude, we’ll be back.”

Victoria pulled her wallet out of her purse.

“Well, you boys took very good care of him and I promised I would pay you, so here you go.” She handed each of them a generous amount of cash. Luke, Reggie and Bobby all whooped as they thanked her and headed to the van. Alex held back with anticipation. Victoria looked at him seriously.

“There was no connection,” she told him before he asked. “His guardian explained everything to me, and there was nothing else to go on. I wanted to know because I thought I could solve an old case, but I had to let it go.”

“Well, did you get to talk to him?” Alex tried not to sound too urgent.

“You mean Willie? No, I never saw him. After talking with his guardian I didn’t need to.”

Bowing his head, Alex made himself swallow his other questions. She had at least tried.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry if it was inconvenient.”

“I chose to go, don’t worry about it,” she assured.

Nodding and saying thanks one more time, Alex hurried out after the rest of his friends.

A few days later, the boys slammed the doors of the van shut as they looked up at the building before them. It was so plain and simple on the outside; they never would’ve guessed there was a studio there. It was likely they had driven past it many times on the way to a gig. Pushing through the door, they all looked at the logo in neon lights on the wall: De Orfeo Records.

Collectively, the boys took in awed breaths at the reality of where they were standing. This was too good to believe. Alex took in the scene, trying to imagine this being a place he came to regularly. Could he ever get used to it, or get over the sheer excitement of just being there? Luke patted him on the back, desperately trying to contain himself. They wandered through the halls a little bit until they came to a room where the door was sitting open.

“Oh, boys!” A man called as they almost walked past it. “In here!”

As they all shuffled in, the man shook their hands and pointed them to a couch where they could sit. Alex nervously stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he took a seat. The man across from them was dressed surprisingly casually, if not with obvious expensive taste. He still had sunglasses on, but their yellow tint was clearly not for actual UV protection.

“Nice to meet all of you,” he was saying. “My name is Alan, I’m one of the producers here at De Orfeo. Which one of you did I talk to on the phone?”

Luke raised his hand.

“That was me,” he said, already gushing with excitement. “How’d you hear about us, anyway?”

Alan didn’t answer, but instead looked up at the doorway as someone else came in.

“Hello boys!” Caleb Covington entered, his charismatic smile spread wide across his face. “So nice to see you again.”

Alex’s heart rate immediately sped up and he clenched his hands inside his pockets. How could it be? He thought his last chance to reach out to Willie was gone and seeing Caleb brought back everything he hadn’t been able to ask Julie’s aunt. All the guys were happy to recognize him.

“I won’t be staying for the negotiations,” Caleb said. “but I wanted to properly introduce myself as the owner of this label. I want to assure you boys the best experience as newcomers in the industry. Let any nerves that still linger walk right out the door.” His eyes landed on Alex for a moment, and it felt purposeful. “Take it away, Alan.”

Listening to the producer’s pitch was difficult to focus on now, and Alex had to fight hard against his brain latching onto the new hopes that had arisen. He was thankful that when paperwork came out, Bobby was mindful enough to have them read through it. It was taking too long, though, and Alex was already wishing he had his drumsticks in hand to help pass the time. Reggie had so many questions, and Luke had trouble understanding numerous words - at least that kept Alex occupied because he could be helpful in that. A good hour had passed going over all the information.

“This looks great!” Luke said finally. “How are we feelin’ boys?”

Each of them nodded and looked around at each other, confirming that they all agreed on every settlement. Luke grabbed a pen and pulled his copy of the contract toward him, pausing momentarily to drink in what was happening. Then he signed his name in giant letters. Alex, Bobby, and Reggie followed suit, and Alex could feel a weird tingle rush through his hand as he made the final flourish with his pen. They were all in now.

As the band began celebrating, Caleb knocked on the doorframe.

“If it’s alright with you boys, I wanted to speak with Alex privately for a moment,” Caleb said, gesturing for Alex to follow him outside the room.

His curiosity was at the point of overflowing, and he went out trying to control his trembling hands. Maybe Caleb had talked to Willie after all. This could be his way to bridge that gap and he wouldn’t have to live off of just memories.

Everyone else was still going nuts over getting the contracts signed back in the room. Standing in the lobby, Caleb was looking at him seriously, maybe even pitifully. It quickly drained the exhilaration in Alex’s chest.

“I can tell you’ve been wanting to ask me some questions,” he began. “But before you do, I thought it was best to inform you of some important details first.”

Alex looked up at him with his hands back in his pockets and gulped. Why was his heartbeat suddenly so loud? He knew Caleb couldn’t actually hear it, but it still embarrassed him. His mouth began to go dry.

Caleb furrowed his brow, as if what he was about to say wasn’t easy to get out. He bowed his head and took a breath before looking at Alex again.

“Willie,” he started. Then he paused. “Is dead.”

The trembling in Alex’s hands stopped.

He stared at Caleb, as if he could pull off the serious expression and find a joking smile underneath. It was a few moments before he remembered to breathe in, and blinking seemed to cut that moment into two as if the first one wasn’t real.

“No, no, that can’t - ” he heard the words spill out of his mouth. Why was his body so tense and ready to defend itself? His cheeks felt hot.

“I know the news is hard,” Caleb interrupted, placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I can hardly bear it myself. There was an electrical fire. He didn’t make it out.”

Alex could only shake his head. Caleb’s expression wasn’t changing and for some reason it was the most infuriating sight. He could punch that face and make him bleed if he really wanted to. The adrenaline was already rushing to his fist.

“There has to be a mistake,” he said, chuckling darkly.

“There is no mistake,” Caleb told him firmly.

How was the man so calm? How could he say those words out loud and not immediately crumble to the earth? How could he have worn such a large smile earlier?

“I know you two weren’t friends for long, but he made it clear you were important to him.”

The words came through as if from a tiny speaker. They’d only gotten one day and it wasn’t enough. Willie couldn’t go like that, he simply couldn’t - not when Alex needed to know if they could’ve ever had something real. He still wanted to know so many things about him and look into those brown eyes and soften the hard edges on them. He needed to -

He was crying. On his hands and knees, trying to get the dark shadow that had grown inside his chest to come out. It made him choke. Caleb had apparently left him alone, unable to console him, and he felt hands on his back and shoulders as he fought to properly breathe. Luke was knelt down before him, mouth hanging open in want of words but not able to form any. Bobby was gripping his hand and supporting him as he and Reggie pulled him up onto his feet.

“We need to get him in the van,” one of them was saying.

Any movement from there was not his own. All three boys were trying their hardest to help the tallest member of their band out of the building. Everything was numb - like a machine that had broken down after being run too hard.

The brown eyes faded into darkness, murky and thick. There was no air in his lungs to scream into that dark, no tie-dye, no rolling of wheels on the sidewalk, no ‘ribbit’, no more wondering and hoping.

Dead quiet. That was all.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #carlos molina #aunt victoria #caleb covington #tw death mention #sunset curve #viva las vegas #de orfeo records #fiddlepickdouglas

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be11atrixthestrange · 4 years ago

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Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 5

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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More Chapters

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Chapter 5

[Ron]

How do people live in Las Vegas? Accustomed to the mild English sun, Ron finds himself wondering why the bloody hell someone would choose to reside in this heat. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he glances back at his phone. He's over halfway to his destination and can surely stand five more minutes of walking in the sun. Wishing he brought water, or even thought to put on sunscreen, he groans and continues on his way.

He's far beyond the flashy streets of the Las Vegas Strip, having ventured into a more run-down and understated part of town. The buildings no longer stand out, but blend together like a colorless mural, and his destination, Erised Elopements, is easy to miss. He's looking for a building marked by the number twelve, and it takes him a few passes down the block before he spots it. It's a skinny building, shoved between numbers eleven and thirteen, almost as if it's trying to be invisible. It gives Ron an eerie feeling, like it's hiding dark secrets inside.

However, any uneasy feelings vanish when he opens the door and steps into a wall of cool crisp air, inhaling a cold and nourishing breath. Thank goodness for air conditioning.

"Hello, sir! Welcome to Erised Elopements!"

Ron locks eyes with the bubbly receptionist beaming at him. He sends her a friendly nod, then scans the room. There's a large refrigerator stocked with bottled water, an indoor forest of tropical plants that look like prisoners in the dry heat, and in the corner of the room sits an elegant gold mirror that he recognizes from the logo behind the front desk.

Then his eyes wander to a pink plush sofa in the mirror's reflection. Sitting stiffly in a light blue sundress with her arms crossed in front of her body is Hermione Granger. Shit.

His heart rate spikes, and a prickling heat begins to rise up his neck as he dodges behind a pillar, sucking in a quick breath. Here he is again, hiding from women behind walls. It's becoming a theme.

"Sir? Are you okay?" The receptionist suddenly looks concerned as she rises to her feet. "You don't look well."

Coughing, Ron tries to obscure his voice. "Yeah, I'm fine," he huffs at a lower octave than feels natural.

"Well, there's water in the fridge if you're overheated, and you can have a seat on the sofa; we will be with you in a second."

"Erm, thanks."

Ron wants to leave. He's tempted to turn out the door and run away, right back to the hotel, heat be damned, but his curiosity roots him to the spot.

Why is she here? Does she know?

He takes a deep breath and approaches the pink fluffy sofa with trepidation. Hermione must sense someone nearing because she snaps her head in his direction and meets his gaze.

Her jaw drops, and her cheeks flush crimson. "What are you doing here?" she hisses.

"Hi, Hermione," he splutters. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Ron, seriously, why are you here?" Her eyes flit around the room as if looking for a hidden camera, some kind of confirmation that this is all a prank.

Sighing, Ron shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out their marriage certificate. "I'm here because—"

She interrupts him. "Did you know?"

Ron gapes at her, utterly confused as to how she found out, then nods.

"And you didn't say anything?"

Sighing, Ron shrugs. He meets her icy stare and sends her a look of apology. "I was hoping I could fix it before you found out."

"You could fix it? Without telling me? Don't you think I have a right to know?" She rises to her feet, uncrossing her arms to place them on her hips. Her frizzy hair crackles with static electricity, giving her the appearance of someone deranged. Theoretically, it should scare him into submission, but instead, her confrontational stance ignites a flame from somewhere within him. It gives him an adrenaline rush, and he doesn't hate it.

"I thought you'd prefer not to know, based on how horrified you were this morning," he challenges back, his voice matching hers in strength and volume.

"So how was I supposed to find out we were," she says, her eyes darting vigilantly around the room, "married?"

Even in the frigid air, Ron's palms begin to sweat. He shrugs. "Honestly, I didn't think that far ahead."

She scoffs, folding her arms across her chest again. Like Ron's palms, her forehead glistens with sweat that doesn't belong in the abrasive air conditioning. "That's the attitude that got us into this mess; how did you figure it would get us out?"

Matching her stance, Ron hardens his gaze. "What would you have done?"

"I would have told you," she says with an air of finality.

Ron laughs. "If that's the case, why are you here alone? Why did you ask if I knew?" When she doesn't answer and her eyes narrow, he adds, "You weren't going to say anything either, were you?"

She exhales audibly and stiffens her jaw, tense and trapped without a response.

"That's bullshit, Hermione, acting like I'm the dishonest one here."

"You're infuriating," she says, shifting her gaze out the window.

"You're just as responsible for this! Don't put it all on me!"

"Oh, come on, I never do stuff like this."

Scoffing, Ron says, "Trust me, I know. Spontaneity isn't your thing."

"Impulsivity isn't my thing. I generally think before making big life decisions."

"And I don't? Believe it or not, Hermione, this is the first time I've accidentally gotten married. And I was just as horrified as you to find out."

When she whips her head back to face him, her face is expressionless, and Ron wonders what it's masking. Like the building's secretive facade, it looks forced. "Well, at least we agree that it was a mistake. Let's just straighten it out, then pretend it never happened."

Pretend it never happened. That's what they both want, right?

"Okay. Let's just make it disappear," he says, and they both take a seat on the sofa, separated by a wall of thick, icy air.

"Well, hello! Can I help you two?" Ron and Hermione look up to see a short, stout man with circular spectacles and the beginning of a handlebar mustache. He's dressed in black golf pants and a polo shirt that's at least one size too small, and something about him puts Ron on edge. "I'm Dave, the owner and CEO of Erised Elopements."

Hermione is the first to speak. "Yes, actually. We have a problem, sir."

"So do I!" says Dave cheerfully. Ron and Hermione stare blankly at him, confused. He diffuses it with a hearty laugh, color flooding his cheeks. "Just a joke, just a joke. Come on into my office!"

They share a nervous glance as they follow his lead. Dread pools in Ron's stomach. Oddly, he feels like he's approaching the witness stand in a courtroom and makes a note to be careful what he says.

"Go ahead, have a seat! Make yourselves comfortable," says Dave, motioning toward two armchairs in front of his desk. They're upholstered with green velvet, and Ron wonders when they were last cleaned. "What can I do for you?"

"Hi, sir—" starts Hermione.

"Dave."

"Sorry?"

"Just call me Dave. 'Sir's' too formal, and here at Erised Elopements, we're all friends." Dave beams, revealing white, unnaturally straight teeth.

"Okay...Dave. Here's the problem. We got married last night." Hermione motions vaguely between herself and Ron.

"Oh, congratulations!" Dave claps his hands together in excitement.

"No sir…I mean Dave—"

"I knew I recognized your faces from somewhere. Hold on one second." Dave silences them with a finger, reaches for a remote control, and points it toward a large black flatscreen monitor on the wall. It lights up, and Dave scrolls through a few photographs, eventually landing on one of Ron and Hermione. Ron's holding her up and pressing his lips to hers, her arms snaking around his neck. Above them are the words "Just Married." Ron is horrified and glances at Hermione, but for some reason, she doesn't seem surprised by the photo. "There! It's Ron and Hermione, right?"

"Yeah," says Ron tentatively, still staring wide-eyed at the photo.

"Well, congratulations again. You two make a lovely couple!"

"Thank you," he mumbles without meaning it. The words feel like they've been extracted from him, and it's unsettling.

Dave leans back and stacks his feet onto the table, paying no attention to the stacks of paper, empty picture frames, and take-away lunch container he's knocked aside in the process. Hermione looks on with wide eyes. "Honestly, sometimes couples waltz into Erised Elopements and have everyone thinking 'oh for fuck sake, these two should not be getting married', so it's incredibly refreshing to see such a happy couple. Really, congratulations again."

"About that. We didn't mean to get married," says Hermione hastily.

"Ahhh."

"Yeah. It was kind of a shock to us this morning, actually," she says, shrugging. She smiles at Ron in a sheepish manner that doesn't match her fiery demeanor.

"How lovely!"

"Sorry? Lovely?"

"Yes! It's perfect!" Dave reaches for a pen and notepad and begins scribbling as if taking notes on their conversation. Ron shifts uneasily. "I just love the idea that the best things in life are surprises. It speaks to how important it is to keep an open heart and let life happen to you."

Ron and Hermione exchange confused looks. "I think you misunderstand."

Ignoring them, Dave continues. "We've been working on a new ad campaign, and that sums up our message perfectly."

"Sir—"

"Sometimes, you don't even know your heart's truest desire until it's on your doorstep—"

"Dave," says Ron firmly.

The pen stops. "Yes?"

"We don't want to be married," says Ron, his tone stiff and forced.

"Sure you do!"

"No," adds Hermione. "This was a huge mistake. We need to undo it, if possible."

"Undo it?"

"Yes, cancel it. The whole thing," she says, gesturing between them again.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Excuse me?" Hermione's eyes are wide and disbelieving.

Dave removes his feet from the table and sits up straight. Although short, he appears commanding. "What you're asking for is an annulment, and unfortunately, you waived your right to an annulment yesterday when you signed your marriage license." He opens a drawer, shuffling for a piece of paper. "See, here's a copy of our contract; it's all there if you read the fine print."

Hermione snatches the document from his hand. "This can't be legal."

"It's perfectly legal in the state of Nevada," he says, shrugging.

"You don't let anyone get an annulment?"

Dave laughs. "Wouldn't be very good for branding, don't you think? We pride ourselves on marriages that last. For most people, when they see a high annulment rate, they don't exactly think 'Happily Ever After,' you know? In fact, we go beyond that. We promise 'Blissfully Ever After.'"

Ron and Hermione join heads to scan the document. "So, you're saying we're stuck married?" Ron asks finally.

"Well, I wouldn't think of it as stuck, per se. You're starting to sound like my wife."

"You're married too?"

"Sure. Technically," chuckles Dave. "But you're not 'stuck.' With that mindset, your marriage will never work."

"We don't want it to work. It was a mistake," says Hermione, slowly and clearly. Ron feels his stomach clench at her words, but he's unsure why.

"Give it a chance! Even the good things in life require effort!"

"Listen, we barely know each other—"

Dave cuts her off. "Perfect! You have no history, no past that'll keep coming back to screw everything up."

"I'm sorry," says Ron. "I'm not sure what you mean by that—"

Dave gestures toward Hermione, who looks affronted. "Listen to me. This is an opportunity. She hasn't broken your heart yet, so when you see that she has an 'office happy hour' on a Friday night, you're not tempted to show up at the bar just to check on her. Even if you do show up and see her alone with her 'coworker'," his fingers make air quotes as he speaks, "she doesn't know about your 'addiction' to porn, or how much money you lost at the slots. She doesn't know anything about you, and that's a beautiful thing, Ron, because she can't use any of it to justify her affair and make you look like the controlling one. She has nothing on you, at least not yet. Trust me; a blank slate is a beautiful slate. You have a chance to keep it that way, so I'd recommend not fucking it up."

Ron's mouth drops open, and he glances at Hermione, who is also wearing an expression of horror. This is not about them anymore.

"Turn around," demands Dave. "Go on, your chairs swivel."

Reluctantly, they swivel their chairs and turn to face another mirror, identical to the one in the lobby and the one on the logo. Engraved on the golden frame are the words 'heart's desire', over and over again, in fonts that don't seem to match. Ron assumes it's not meant to be stared at too closely.

"What do you see?"

"Us," states Hermione plainly.

"Well, yes, you, but more importantly, this mirror shows your heart's one true desire."

"It's just a mirror," says Ron.

"It's your heart's desire," responds Dave firmly.

Ron stares at their reflection; his face is red and peeling from the sun, new freckles invading his features. Hermione is scowling, hair erupting from her head like a volcano, arms and legs wound tightly into knots. They don't look happy.

"Now, if there's anything else I can help you with, by all means, shoot. But if not, then enjoy your Blissfully Ever After!" Dave motions for them to stand, and they oblige. He moves toward the door, opening it and gesturing them through.

"If it's not working in six months, you're more than welcome to file for divorce," he calls after them. "But give it a chance, don't disrespect love. Honor your heart's true desire."

Speechless, Ron and Hermione stumble out back into the lobby.

"Come again soon!" says the receptionist as they pass her desk.

They press open the door and emerge back outside, once again engulfed by the aggressive heat. Ron glances at Hermione. "That was a disaster."

"I'll say."

"Er, I guess we just should go back to the hotel. Try to enjoy the rest of the day?"

Hermione nods. "I guess. And file for divorce as soon as possible."

Ron sighs. "You read my mind," he says, although it's not entirely true.

"I guess we're just so in tune," she chuckles, and Ron, surprised by her sudden pleasantness, suppresses a smile.

"That's why you're my wifey," he risks, glancing nervously at her to gauge her reaction.

"Please, don't say that," she groans, and her cheeks flush adorably red, most likely a result of the Las Vegas heat.

#Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Ron and Hermione #ron x hermione #ronweasley #hermionegranger #ROMIONE #romione fanfic #romione fanfiction #hp fanfic #hpromione #muggle AU #waking up in vegas #romione au

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harritudur · 4 years ago

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because every ship needs its ‘we accidentaly got married in Vegas’ AU, so here the noabeth version (AO3 link) 1860 words + pg-13 + no beta, we die like men!

Elisabeth wakes up to a headache, her head pounding too heavily to her liking. As she becomes more and more conscious, her eyes slowly crack open. This is… not her room. Then she notices a cheap plastic ring on her left hand (the kind of ridiculous rings you get for 2$ from capsule-toys distributors) and a warm lump curled against her side.

Well fuck.

The memories of the last 24 hours come flooding back:

—the fly to Las Vegas —the international congress about renewable energy sources —the four boring hours of conference she attended to (without sign language interpreter, thank you) —the open-bar on the second floor —the tall blonde man she already run into two weeks ago in Berlin, and couldn’t stop thinking about since then —his fingers as he tried to remember the few words in sign langage his mother taugh him years ago —his face as he explained his presence to attend the conference of Dr… something? about… doctrines? or was it churches? —his eyes dancing on her bare knee when she crossed her legs —his name she couldn’t stop mouthing between glasses of vodka —N-O-A-H —his hand, warm on her low back when they left the bar —his lips pressed to hers in the elevator —Noah —his arms around her waist as they walked out the hotel —alcohol —music —his mouth —the irresistible perfum she breathed in when her nose brushed the soft skin beside his ear —alcohol —the flashing lights —his mouth —more alcohol —a song —his fucking delicious mouth —giggles —a chapel —a kiss —a hotel room…

She stops and checks under the sheet.

THANKS GOD! Her shirt and skirt are still on.

With great care, Elisabeth stretches to observe her partner in crime. Even turned towards the wall as he is, she can tell he is still sleeping by the quiet rise and fall of his bare shoulders. She decides to take a more attentive look at him and the first thing she notices is a plastic ring of the same quality than hers on his left hand. Oh God. Then, the edge of a tattoo catchs her eyes, linen covering most of his back.

Leaves? Maybe flowers?

Her curiosity getting the better of her, Elisabeth pushes the sheet away to reveal the entire tattoo. A tree, with a classic design. Its branches large and full of leaves and fruits (apples), and its roots deep in the soil, each ramification, each bisection leading to a name. Religious names, but from different faiths.

Beautiful.

It’s only when he shudders lightly that she realizes her fingertips were tracing over the ink on his back. By the vibration she feels under them, he is murmuring something and her hand moves away.

After a few yawns, Noah turns over, and a soft smile begins to work its way across his face when his eyes land on Elisabeth.

“That dream again…” he whispers, so faintly she can’t read his lips. But his brief delight disappears when a violent migraine encircles his skull. He blinks, and remembers a few drinks, a few laughs, a few kisses, and… what else? He can’t tell. His incompetent brain makes him groan and Noah covers up his face with his left hand. As he does, something not supposed to be there touches his cheek, and he blinks again before muttering. “What the-”

A silly plastic band around his ring finger. “-fuck??!!”

The memory of his own voice singing loud and off-key Bruno Mars’ Marry You starts to haunt Noah’s ears, and the face of an Elvis Presley in a white rhinestone jumpsuit with a priest’s collar pops right into his mind.

“… oh. Oh.”

Everything is spinning a little around him, but pieces by pieces, the puzzle of the last night starts to reconstitute itself.

“Hm wellllllll… so apprently, we drank a lot,” Noah says as he sits up, cross-legged, and is now facing his wife. “And… we got married.”

The calm in his tone can not be heard, but Elisabeth sees it on his lips, his face, his attitude, his body… This whole situation seems absolutely normal and not upsetting for him, and she just wants to scream.

With great suppleness (which Noah remarks by an eyebrow-raising), Elisabeth reaches for her purse on the ground by the bed, and takes out her loyal notepad and blue pencil to write.

you’re not freaking out?

“Not really, no” he replies, shrugging. “And… It was your idea after all.”

She has to make him repeat the last part, because there is no way that she is at the initiative of this non-sense. Noah repeats the same words, with that astounding calm, and Elisabeth rolls her eyes in a cocky way. She writes down on a new page, in capital:

IMPOSSIBLE

“Yes. Your idea.”

Her head shakes. No. She is a rational woman. A reasonable woman. Sure, this Noah is sexy and hot and funny and smart and courteous and totally her kind of guy and she is definitely attracted to him… but no. No way! She is not the instigator. Or, is she?

Noah smiles at her gently and her chest suddenly tightens. Fuck.

After a tilt of his head to ask for permission, he takes the notepad from her hands and flippes through the previous pages. In doing so, Noah can go back in time, can witness and find passed conversations, and he eventually stops at one page. He smiles again and shows it to Elisabeth.

There, in blue, little hearts all around, a shaky handwriting that she identifies as hers:

<3< 3 marrY ME pleas e <3</i>

“If I remember correctly, you wanted us to get married, and I said no at first -because I thought it had to be a joke. But you almost started to cry. So…” he explains at an Elisabeth deathly pale. “I said yes. And we went to a chapel with an Elvis-priest.”

There is a furrow between Elisabeth’s eyebrows and she just wants the earth to open up and to swallow her. It takes her a long minute to processes the information he just gave and, like a sliver of light through the darkness, she… remembers.

[ she nuzzled into his neck, his arms secure around her waist, and breathed him in. He laughed and Elisabeth felt a warmth rush over her. Alcohol or Noah? She moved away to enjoy the enticing sight and kissed him again. And again. And again. Her hands started to dance in the air, before she could even think about it, and signed: marry me. ]

All the details of the night or their chronology are still nebulous. But she clearly remembers *that* moment, and the way she felt. The feelings. The want. The need to have this man. To claim him as hers. Where did such impetuous desires come from?

She looks up and Noah’s eyes are still on her face, but the calm in them shifts into something different. Trouble? Worry? No. Care, Elisabeth recognizes.

He gets off the bed to look for his shirt and she can’t help but huffes her disappointment when he finds it. Now decent (except for his bed-hair), he stands in the middle of the room, hands on his hips in a superhero pose, the one you use when you need confidence and nerve. His face softens into a tender look that makes Elisabeth’s breath hitch in her throat. Again.

“So, now that we’re all better, and sober,“ he says, walking back towards the bed and stops at its edge, “I guess I’ll go get us a divorce.”

A gasp leaves her lips and she sits up straight on the mattress. Divorce. How Elisabeth hates the word. Her parents divorced when she was still in her early teens and, witnessed the torment and tears, and she became determined, more than anything, not to be like them. To marry just once, for good! And with the man of her life.

She shakes her head. One of Noah’s eyebrows arches.

“No?”

She shakes her head once more and this time, mouthes her answer. No.

Noah gulps. It is not the reaction he expected, but it is not an unpleasant one neither. He glances at the end table next to the bed, observing a piece of paper on top. Their marriage licence.

[ they tumbled onto the bed, a mess of tipsy giggles and limbs. Noah pulled away to place kisses all over the side of Elisabeth’s jaw and neck, but she grabbed his face to press his mouth against hers. When Noah came up for air, a giant grin spread across his flushed face. She looked up at him with a tired but tender smile, and her fingers found the buttons on his shirt, too clumsy to work properly. “Let me…” he whispered against her lips, hovering just above them and Elisabeth took her chance to kiss him quickly before falling back on the mattress with a sigh. With difficulty, he eventually took off his shirt and tossed it on the ground. When he looked down, Elisabeth was snoring, dead to the world, and he laughed. Tiredness was taking over him as well, and Noah curled-up in the bed next to her. He pushed gently a stand of golden hair off her face before falling into sleep without a second thought ]

He nods.

“Okay?”

i don’t want to divorce. we could try. and i think i like you.

Her eyes glare at him with demand and Noah tries to find arguments against it. In vain. And he figures out how they ended up in this situation: he is unable to say ‘no’ to her (adorable) stubbornness. But is her ‘i like you’ enough to build a marriage on?

“Okay, okay… we can try and work it out,” Noah states as he sits by her side on the bed so she can read his lips more easily. “And… if we look at the situation in a practical way, there are benefits. Tax benefits. Insurance benefits. I read as well that marriage help you live longer!”

She laughs and he notices the dimples from her smile. Once more, her pen moves quickly over the paper.

marital confidences privilege too

This time, he is the one to smile, and his knee touches hers through the sheet.

“True! I mean… if I decide one day to kill people, I could tell you every details, and yet, you couldn’t testify against me.”

She tiltes her head, an almost curious expression appearing on her face as she looked at him. Then a grin, and more writing.

i was more talking about civil procedure for neighbourhood disputes but im in to cover up your murders

He laughs and Elisabeth wishes she can hear the sound of it. She easily understands how drunk-her could have wanted this man to be hers. Noah moves closer, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to kiss her, but he doesn’t. And a part of Elisabeth wants him to.

Maybe when the time will be right -and after they both have brushed their teeth.

“I will order a very light brunch for two then.”

Noah eventually leans over to kiss her cheek and Elisabeth doesn’t withdraw. She could get used to that.

#okay BUT THEY BOTH TOTALY WILL KEEP THE PLASTIC RINGS -EVEN AT WORK #she will have very serious meeting with the CEO of the TIEDERMANN company #and he will gives courses in front of hundred of students about religions #WITH THEIR RIDICULOUS PLASTIC RINGS (THAT THEY SECRETLY CHERISH)#noah x elisabeth #elisabeth doppler #hanno tauber #noah dark #noabeth #noahbeth #YES i need all the au

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terbearcollectibles · 2 years ago

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Wizard of Oz MGM Grand Dorothy & Toto Notepad.

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extremelyblackandwhite · 5 years ago

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i wanna know what love is - 09

Pairing: rockstar! sebastian stan x writer!reader

Warnings: mentions of sex

A/N: sebastian’s performance is inspired by pour some sugar on me scene in rock of ages and a few scenes of bat out of hell (i’ve linked both if you guys are interested). fun fact, the lipstick and nail polish y/n is wearing in this chapter is emblématique by chanel which is one of my favourite combos ever. i’ve been so happy to receive your feedback, it just always makes my day. thank you so much everyone xx

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Sebastian woke up with the loud sound of bass reverberating through the wall. He lifted his torso, looking at the TV where Pulp Fiction was playing and then to the wall he’d had her pinned last night. At the memory of that, the memory of her hands reaching for him before the employee interrupted and he ran off, he bolted off the bed and rushed over to her bedroom, pushing open the double door but coming face to face with nothing. She wasn’t in, her bed was made an her pyjamas were nicely folded and laying on top of her bed.

He closed the door behind him and walked over to the entry room. His bandmates were rehearsing one of his beginning songs. Sebastian looked at the room expecting to see Y/N sat somewhere with her ridiculous yellow coloured notepad and an unholy amount of disposable cameras.

- Hey, where’s Y/N? - Sebastian asked through the loud sounds of drums, bass and guitars, and, surprisingly, still was heard by Fred, who removed his headphones, placing them over their neck. - She’s nowhere to be found.

- She’s out with Mary. - Fred said, a nice smile on his face that his wife finally had someone other than them to hang out with.

- Great, I need to talk to her. - he grabbed his jacket from the holder, putting it over his pyjamas, not even caring he was still shirtless and wearing his sleeping trousers that had holes where trousers shouldn’t have holes. However, showing up in pyjamas in public wouldn’t be the worse thing he ever did. - Where did they go?

- Hey, man, calm down. - Anthony took over, placing a hand over his shoulder before he bolted off into Las Vegas. - We have a show today, you have to rehearse. The girls are gonna be at the venue tonight and then you can speak with Y/N.

- Yeah besides she’s been stuck with us for almost a month, she needs a bit of girl time. - Michael added, throwing Sebastian the microphone which he caught mid air. - Besides, you’re sober for rehearsal and we’re not gonna miss that.

On the other hand, Mary had taken Y/N to The Grand Canal Shoppes which she had hoped would blow her mind. Mary was right, Y/N was stunned at a shopping centre with a full blown built in canal with canoes. The shopping centre itself had been built like a pre-French revolution castle and the stores Mary was walking in had things that could buy her whole studio flat in NY.

However, Y/N’s mind was still on Sebastian and how he had kissed her yesterday. She shouldn’t have allowed this, she knew what type of man he was yet when he did it she couldn’t help but reciprocate the favour.

- Isn’t this cute? - Mary held a black stretch jersey corset dress from Burberry, calling for Y/N’s attention. Y/N’s eyes scanned the dress, it was a beautiful dress. Not exactly something she would pick as she didn’t go out enough to use that or had enough money to pay for it. - C’mon, try it on.

- No, I mean, it’d look better on you anyway. - Y/N did not want to let out she couldn’t afford the dress, she had already paid for a highly expensive breakfast so there was nothing on her bank account saying that she could afford a new collection Burberry dress.

- C’mon, Y/N. The other girls are never around when I come in besides we have a show today and we need to look good. Consider it a gift from me to you, please. - she held the dress against Y/N’s chest, pushing her to the dressing room. - Besides, if you want to get Sebastian’s attention you can’t dress like Little Boo Peep.

- What? - Y/N said before being pushed into the dressing room and being told to dress. How did Mary know about Sebastian? Had he told her? Had he told the boys who then went to tell her? Was she a mind reader? Who knew. After Y/N was done with her thoughts, she had already put the dress on and she couldn’t help but notice the difference from her others dresses to this dress. This dress looked like it had been sewn on her, showing all her curves and all her assets. She came out of the dressing room and before Mary could even start speaking compliments she went in strong. - How do you know me and Sebastian kissed?

- I don’t, you just told me. I did know he had a soft spot for you but I did not know how far it had gone. - Mary walked her over to the big mirror, holding her shoulders. - You look gorgeous.

- What do you mean soft spot? - Y/N spoke, her hands smoothing over the fabric. Sebastian did not have a soft spot for her, he’d spent the past month poking fun of her clothing and not answering her questions. For Mary, however, who’d known Sebastian since the beginning it looked obvious.

- Well, for starters he gave up his room in the bus for you and last night he was so red I thought he’d might explode.

- But he has a room in the bus, I got the one on the lower ground floor. He has the whole second floor for himself.

- No, the second floor is for rehearsing. His bedroom is your bedroom, I know that because I’ve caught him with several girls in there. - Mary said, carefully handing out her card to one of the employees. - But let’s not talk about boys, Y/N.

After a lot of bickering between the two girls, Y/N eventually took the dress with the promise that she would give it back once she became a big shot lawyer. They spent most of their time in one of the restaurants of the WestGate until they decided to go back to the villa. The band had already left to do a soundcheck so the girls had enough time to get ready. Y/N did not recognise herself in the mirror. She was always used to get ready quite quickly and not really care much but right now here she was, wearing a very expensive beautiful dress, high heels and putting on her very favourite lipstick and nail polish. It had been a gift from her parents once she entered university and she had forever cherished it.

She came out of the room to see Mary putting her shoes on while holding a file in her hand. Mary was a lawyer, a very good one too, and following Fred she would bring work into everything and still have the best time of her life. It was almost entertaining to Y/N how people from different sides of the work spectrum had come together.

The two girls walked to the lobby where a very nice car was waiting for them and Y/N could no longer picture herself going back to her studio flat in NY, paying stupid amounts for a single bagel. Now she understood why the 1% did everything to remain relatable.

They reached the venue in a few minutes where a huge queue was already waiting to enter and get a sight of the band. Mary and Y/N, however did not wait in the queue. Mary took her to a small black door in the back being guarded by a guard who smiled once he saw her.

- Hello, William. How are we doing, tonight? - Mary asked, grabbing a few passes from another man, handing one to Y/N.

- I’m very alright, Mrs. Mary and how are you doing tonight?

- Buzzing, first time I have the company of someone who doesn’t want to speak about new breast pumps or tummy time. - Mary shook Y/N’s shoulder making her smile. - This is Y/N Wiley, she’s from Rolling Stone.

- Very nice to meet you, Miss. - he shook Y/N’s hand and opened the door for them. Mary rushed through the hallway along with Y/N before rushing the right front of the stage.

Y/N couldn’t help but be stunned at the venue. It looked just like what her father and mother used to say they looked whenever they went to do their own articles. The band still wasn’t on stage but she could see the venue starting to fill up with people screaming their names.

The band was in the back, tuning their instruments and getting into their outfits, preparing for another show. Sebastian kept peeking at the audience to see if he could get a peak of Mary or Y/N but all he could see was darkness as the lights were still off.

- Hey Sebastian, c’mon. Band circle. - Michael patted him in the back before they placed their hands in a circle, while some assistants put their sound ear plugs on their ears.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she heard the song begin and the light started to flicker. Sebastian walked into stage, leather trousers, leather jacket and no shirt which made Y/N’s cheeks go red, making her thank the dim lighting on her. She had to admit he knew how to command a room and specially the attention out of everyone. He threw his jacket onto the audience, a bunch of girls shrieking to get it as he wrapped the cord of the microphone loosely around his neck, singing his heart out.

Mary elbowed Y/N in her side, forcing her to dance out, by raising her arms in the air. She had to admit she was having fun, but at the same time she couldn’t take her eyes out of him. He was electrifying, too much. The show finished and a row of people screamed out as they left the room and before Y/N’s could recover from that, Mary was pushing her backstage.

She rushed into the arms of her husband, kissing him like no tomorrow as she stood behind to knowing what to do. She gave Fred a smile as she noticed her and as she was about to find somewhere to sit when someone came behind her, raising her into a hug, she turned her head to see Sebastian who set her on the floor once the rest of the band gave them a confused look.

- You were fantastic. - Y/N said playing with her bracelet.

- You look fantastic. - he took a good look at her, from head to toe. - Where’s the white dress?

- Mary got this for me. It’s worth my whole flat. - she said making him laugh at her incredulous look.

- Hey Y/N, let’s get some drinks. - Mary pushed on her arm.

- Wait, when you return I need to speak to you okay. - Sebastian said and she nodded as Mary walked her over to the bar, blurting out a series of drinks that Y/N never heard about. Anyway, all she could think was about Sebastian and what he could possibly want. Mary gave her a short smile, noticing that her friend was stuck in the middle of her thoughts.

- That was some hug. - she commented, holding herself on her elbow on the bar top. - You gotta tell me what you guys discuss afterwards. Meet me in my room, girls night.

- It’s probably about Rolling Stone’s article.

- With that dress, it is probably shagging.

- Mary! - Y/N’s cheeks warmed up. Mary grabbed the tray from the bartender and started to walk to the back to meet the boys, laughing with Y/N. The sight Y/N saw a few feet away from her however made her stop laughing. She saw Sebastian leaned against the wall, a cigarette stuck in the middle of his lips as a girl had her arms on top of his shoulders.

She took a step backwards, her stomach hurting by the mere sight of what she had just seen. Mary noticing this followed her line of sight, her face twisting in disgust as she placed the tray on the stage.

- Let’s go, honey. It’s boring here anyway. - Mary patted her on the shoulders taking her phone to text Fred they were leaving.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan AU

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