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donteattheappleshook · 5 years ago

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Of Cars and Bars Chapter 13/14

As always, thank you Krystal @kmomof4 for all of your amazing beta work and for just being a lovely person. This story exists because of and is dedicated to you! (Thanks for the support even though I keep making you angry with all the angst!)

Tagging @teamhook because you asked :D

Here’s the last chapter before the epilogue! I can’t believe it’s almost over!

Summary:

Rated E

When Emma Swan is offered the chance to go on tour as an opener for one of the most popular up and coming bands of the decade, the last thing she expects is to find that the lead guitarist is the stranger she had a one night stand with five years ago.

This started out as a smutty two shot about Emma Ruby and Mary Margaret going on a road trip and has evolved into a slow-burn mutual pining angst-fest.

Read it from the beginning on Ao3 and Ffn because tumblr eats all my italics.

Chapter 13 - New York

If you were here beside me, instead of in New York / If the curve of you was curved on me / I'd tell you that I loved you, before I even knew you / 'Cause I loved the simple thought of you

The tour was over. They were back. Everything was over.

Things had happened really quickly after that night. They cancelled the show and then every show after that for the rest of the summer. They’d refunded everyone, lost the income - she didn’t really know the semantics of how that had happened, Belle had handled all of that.

There had been rumors of course - rumors about why the tour was called off so suddenly. They ranged from one ridiculous explanation to another. The boys had fallen out, broken up, a drug scandal, the band wanting more money, someone was sick…

Emma ignored them for the most part - as much as she could anyway. It was hard to ignore them when she was constantly being reminded of everything she’d lost whenever she stepped outside and saw a magazine with his face on it. He was always hiding it in those pictures, looking away, his shoulders hunched, looking annoyed or exhausted. She didn’t recognize him half the time. There was none of the joy and excitement that had originally attracted her to him.

She’d gone back to Boston, back to her old apartment… like nothing had happened. But it had. Her life was different now. Now she had people recognizing her on the street, reporters and paparazzi hounding her with questions about why she’d left, if it had been because of her and Killian’s supposed romance. She told them to fuck off most of the time. She didn’t like fame, she found. Not the darker side of it she was seeing now, anyway.

The worst part was the social media. Angry, vicious people who hounded her online, angry because they thought she was dating Killian, angrier because they thought she had dumped him, angriest because they thought she was the reason the tour had ended. They called her names. They called her awful, worthless. Told her that she didn’t deserve Killian, that he deserved better, that her music was terrible. All thoughts she’d already had in the back of her mind, thoughts that she thought she’d finally overcome but that were slowly making themselves heard again. She’d had to delete her accounts eventually.

She’d had to quit her job too. It was hard to set a honey trap when everyone knew your face. It was hard to tail a skip when you were being tailed by cameramen. It wasn’t just cameramen and fans that were after her though. Since she’d gotten home, she’d been approached by seven producers, all of whom wanted to sign her and her band. Ruby and Mary Margaret were thrilled, they couldn’t understand why she was so hesitant. Well, actually, they probably could, but they were letting her believe they didn’t know.

It felt wrong, wrong to make music without him. It was ridiculous. She’d done it before him, she’d done it since him. But one of her favorite parts of writing had become the look that appeared on his face whenever she played something new for him, that proud, awed expression he would give her. And she missed him putting in his two cents. Missed the way he would casually pick at his guitar and create a verse that perfectly captured how she was feeling. She missed… she missed him.

But he was gone. He’d left. He’d told her he would in the bar and she’d walked away, abandoned once again, and then the same night he was on a plane. He hadn’t even come back to the room for his luggage - hadn’t come to say goodbye. You didn’t say goodbye either. It was true. She hadn’t said goodbye. She’d been the one to walk out of that bar. But he hadn’t followed, hadn’t asked her to come with him. It didn’t matter. He left, not her. Everyone left.

“You about ready to go?” Ruby asked, her voice holding that tone of sympathy so close to pity that it irked her. Emma looked once more at her apartment, the place she’d lived since leaving Storybrooke over six years ago. It was empty now.

She’d thought coming back to her old life would have made things easier, would have made it easier to move on, forget him, forget how he made her feel and how he’d broken her heart. But it hadn’t. The whole place just felt wrong now. Like it wasn’t home anymore. Home had become something else, not a place but people and now… that was gone too. She missed it. There was nothing left for her here anymore.

“Yeah,” she said, throwing her bag over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

They were on their way to New York. They were going there to - Emma could hardly believe it, hardly say the words - record an album. Emma had turned down most of the offers, hadn’t wanted anything to do with it. But it wasn’t just her decision. It was Ruby’s and Mary Margaret’s too. It was their life as well, their dream, their career. She didn’t know if she would ever want to be in the spotlight again - but she would try, for her friends.

But every producer that she met just reminded her of Neal - someone who was out to take what they could from her, use her for their own gain regardless of what she wanted. They didn’t care about music. They cared about profit. Only about profit.

But then Graham and David had introduced them to Robin, the man who had recorded their first album, the one who liked to set insanely high bars when it came to music. He was a man with standards and who insisted on hard work and dedication but at the same time… he got it. He was a musician himself and he understood the artistic side of it.

Not all of his artists were well known. Of course he cared about that to an extent - it was his livelihood - but he also had a few indie bands under his wing. He liked good music. That was it. He liked good music and wanted to share good music with the world and he wanted to share her music with the world.

He was sweet, Emma learned as well. A nice guy, funny and upbeat and charismatic. She’d never seen him get angry but she assumed he probably did a good fatherly ‘I’m disappointed in you’ thing that was way more effective than anger. She was looking forward to working with him. She just worried she wouldn’t live up to his standards - not anymore, not with how she was feeling.

When they’d agreed to sign on, Emma had a condition. She was tired of just being Emma Swan and her band. She was tired of all the bad things associated with her name now. She was tired of being front and center when her friends were just as much a part of this as she was. There was no way she could have done this alone. And her name drew too much attention too, something Robin thought they should use but Emma didn’t want to. They named themselves The Ugly Ducklings after a favorite childhood storybook. Her friends liked it. Liked that they felt more like a group now, like what they’d always been.

They settled into their new apartment pretty quickly. David and Graham already lived in New York most of the time so they had helped them find a place and did most of the heavy lifting during the move. It was strange to see them all the time, without the others. Belle and Liam had gone back to London with Killian. When he left for England. When he left her to go back to England.

She hadn’t heard from him. Not a word since that night in the bar. It had been two months. She’d now been away from him nearly as long as they’d been together. Who was she kidding, they’d been together all of five minutes before he left. That was a new record. Usually they stuck around for a little while after she decided to let herself lo- no. she didn’t want to think about it.

She’d given him space at first, hoped that he might reach out if he wanted her, if he needed her - her support or her presence or someone’s shoulder to cry on. But he hadn’t. And it hurt. He hadn’t asked her to come with him. He’d decided she didn’t matter enough and he’d left her behind. Maybe he’d decided he didn’t want to have someone so broken hanging around, being a burden while the case went on.

She knew a lot more about it than she wanted to. The story was all over the tabloids, all over the papers too. And maybe, she’d looked it up a few times online, worried about him, despite everything. The case was dragging on, more and more witnesses being called in, new evidence being ‘found’. It wasn’t just a decision about letting him out anymore. Gold had pushed for a mistrial, insisting he was innocent, wrongly convicted and that he should be acquitted of all charges. She couldn’t imagine what it was doing to Killian, to go through all of this again. But that wasn’t her place. If he’d wanted it to be her business he’d have asked her to go with him.

But something still irked her, more than all the hurt and the loss and the abandonment she felt… guilt. Guilt because she knew, on some level she knew what she’d done. She’d done what she always did. She ran from him, ran away from the possibility of love and of happiness because she’d been so afraid to lose it. The barest hint that he could walk away and she’d walked away first.

But he would have left eventually, she tried to convince herself. Maybe he wouldn’t have. But it was too late now. Now he was in London, regardless of who had run from whom, who had abandoned whom, he was gone now. He was thousands of miles away and he likely hated her - or worse, didn’t even think of her at all. It was broken. She’d broken it. She’d gotten scared and she’d fallen victim to those fears and she broke them.

But he hadn’t tried to fix it. She’d started counting on him trying to fix it and this time he hadn’t. He’d given up. One time too many. She’d messed it up one time too many and hurt him once too many and this was the consequence. It didn’t matter how much she wanted to run to him, to be with him, to be there for him. His silence spoke volumes. He was done with her.

“That was lovely, Emma,” Robin said as they finished recording the vocals for one of the tracks. “Can we try it again with a bit more energy?” he suggested. Emma wanted to laugh. She hadn’t had energy in over two months. Her life had been a blur, a sad, heavy cycle of empty day after empty day.

But she didn’t say that, instead she said “Yeah, sure,” and tried it again. She could tell from his face that it wasn’t much better.

“Perhaps we should move on to one of the ballads,” he suggested. “Let’s do the one you played at the last show - the one that went viral.”

“No,” Emma said quickly. Not that one. She couldn’t do that one. She couldn’t sing that one again - ever probably. She couldn’t sit here in a booth and sing about how she’d fallen in love with someone, had finally believed that she deserved to be loved. Not when that someone had ripped her heart out hours later, reminding her that she didn’t.

“I just mean…” she tried when Robin looked at her in surprise. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not feeling well today. Maybe we could just work on the music for now? Try the vocals again tomorrow?”

He looked at her like he didn’t believe her and she didn’t blame him - the lie had sounded shit to her own ears. But he nodded, giving her that same, sympathetic smile that Ruby had.

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s call the others and see if they can get over here. Why don’t we work on the chorus to this one while we wait.” Emma agreed, thankful, and went to grab her guitar. She flinched when he spoke again. “It’s alright to miss him, you know,” he said.

Anger was her first emotion, her first after heartbreak but that was always there so it didn’t count. “Excuse me? You don’t know me,” she snapped. Robin only nodded, he didn’t flinch back at her bite like most did.

“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I know Killian. I know him pretty well actually and I know that he’s hurting now - more than I’ve ever seen him hurt before. I can hear it in his voice.”

Emma felt her eyes tearing but she fought it. She would not cry over Killian Jones, she’d done that enough already. Enough for a lifetime. She’d heard that he was struggling, that he was always anxious now, always quiet - that he missed her. Belle had said so on the phone. ‘How do you know?’ she’d asked and Belle had said she just did. Emma didn’t believe her. You didn’t just leave someone that you could miss like that. Unless she heard it from him she couldn’t believe any of it, it was just their friends trying to save something that was already broken. And she hadn’t heard anything from him.

“What does that have to do with me?” she demanded, not thrilled with the audacity of this guy she barely knew assuming he knew anything about her life.

He gave a sad smile. “When I produced Abandon Ship!’s first album, Killian had written a hit. Liam had shown it to me, I remember because he called at seven in the bloody morning to play it over the phone. When they came in to record it though… it was different. It was sadder, it was slower… he sounded like you when he sang it.” Emma’s breath caught. You left him first, a voice taunted.

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out,” he continued. “I’ve heard enough bits and pieces from the guys and Ruby and Mary Margaret to piece together where that song came from, who it’s about.”

“What’s your point?” Emma asked, still angry but some of the venom gone from her voice, some of the fire dying out.

“My point is, perhaps it's time to stop writing sad songs about one another and to just… try.”

Emma’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I did try.” Robin smiled sadly again.

“My apologies,” he said. “It’s not my place.”

Graham and David had tagged along with Ruby and Mary Margaret, they were always tagging along now. It was hard. It felt almost like it should, all of them together, but they were missing a few crucial pieces. Having half of the whole there just made the missing half hurt more, made it more obvious that it was missing. She loved David and Graham, they’d become like brothers - but they were a reminder now. Whenever they walked in the room she’d catch herself looking behind them, looking for him to follow them in, only to be reminded that he wouldn’t.

Halfway through their session, when they were taking a break to have some lunch, David received a call. It was Belle on the other end and David put her on speaker. She updated them on their lives, on how the trial was proceeding - they’d hired a lawyer - a high power one that they hadn’t been able to afford when they were young and broke and the first trial happened. She thanked the guys for staying behind, for doing damage control while they were in London. Graham and David had done a hell of a lot of free shows to try and appease some of the bad press. Turned out David could sing. They’d also done a lot of press and appearances and charity events and she knew they were a little exhausted from all of it. Both Graham and David dismissed her thanks as unnecessary.

Emma was sitting awkwardly a few feet away, as far as she could get in the tiny back room of the recording studio, actively trying not to listen - actively failing. She could see that the others were trying to avoid drawing the conversation to him. But when Belle started to say that she was worried about Killian, and David awkwardly tried to hint that now wasn’t a good time, she heard Liam on the other end of the line.

“Is Emma there?” he asked and she felt her heart race. She hadn’t spoken to Liam since that night in the bar. She’d been too afraid to. Afraid he hated her now. With some reluctance, David said she was. “Put her on the phone,” Liam demanded and everyone looked at her uncomfortably. She could hear Belle begging her husband to leave it alone but he wouldn’t listen. “Emma, are you there?” he asked.

Her voice cracked the first time she tried to answer. She cleared her throat, tried again. “Yeah. I’m here.”

“Pick up the phone.” His tone left little room for discussion, even from hundreds of miles away.

Her palms were sweating as she walked over to the table where the phone rested, right there in the middle of all of her friends who were still staring at her with trepidation. They knew whatever was coming wasn’t good either. Liam was a force. She knew that. And he was angry. She nearly turned it off, touched the little red button and ran. But she didn’t. She was an adult. She could talk to another adult. She picked it up and took it off speakerphone.

There was a long weighted silence before Liam finally spoke. “You promised me, Emma.” he said.

“Liam, I-”

“No. All those months ago, I begged you, I begged you not to let him love you if you were going to leave. I told you what it would do to him. You promised me.”

Her words caught in her throat, trapped in the lump there as her eyes burned with tears. “I’m not the one who left,” she said and while she wasn’t looking at them she could feel the way the tension in the room grew at her words, everyone waiting on bated breath.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he snapped. “He needed you Emma. He loves you. He still needs you. Why aren’t you here?”

“I-” She didn’t know what to say. His anger was terrifying, his words cut deep and hurt. She knew he was right. She’d promised. But he’d left and he… the excuse felt weak even as she thought it now. He loves you. He still needs you, the words played over and over in her head. She struggled for something to say, some way to work through the pain and the self-preservation that were warring inside of her when she heard Belle's voice, muffled and far away. “Killian, you’re back. We-”

Emma hung up the phone. She hung it up and put it back on the table and grabbed her stuff and ran out of the room. Liam was right. She’d left. She kept leaving and she was going to do it again now. Because that’s what she did best. It’s what she’d always done. It kept her safe and it kept her from getting hurt… only this time, this time it hadn’t worked so well.

Ruby and Mary Margaret found her a few hours later on the couch in their living room where she’d been sitting since she got home. Wallowing. In guilt and heartbreak and fear and doubt. They approached her cautiously, feeling out the mood in the room before sitting down across from her on the coffee table. She could feel another ‘mom and mom’ speech coming on.

“Was Robin really mad?” she asked, realising the very serious possible consequences of walking out on a recording session when they were new and unknown and completely dependent on him wanting to keep them. Ruby waved a hand dismissively.

“He’ll get over it. He’s used to working with moody artists.” Emma glared but it had no heat behind it.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret started.

“Don’t,” Emma said. She didn’t want to hear it. She’d heard it from Liam already today, she’d heard it from people on the street and online. She got it. She was an asshole. But she didn’t know what to do about it. She was so so scared. Mary Margaret, always the sweeter of her sisters hesitated, but Ruby inhaled deeply and Emma prepared herself for the storm.

“No. Enough is enough. You’re being an idiot.”

“Ruby!” Mary Margaret was cut off.

“She is. You are. Look, we let you get away with it this long, we babied you and let you lick your wounds but really - We’re done. These aren’t even your wounds to lick.”

“He left!” she tried.

“Emma, grow up,” Ruby snapped and Emma reeled back like she’d been slapped.

“You’re being so selfish. Yes, he left. But he left because the psycho that killed his girlfriend was possibly going to walk free. He left because he had to. Where did you find him?”

“A bar…” she said weakly.

“That’s right. Doesn’t that give you a little sense of where his head might have been at?” Ruby’s words were harsh, her tone harsher and Emma wanted to run but she had nowhere to go. She was trapped, listening to her, letting herself be reamed out. She didn’t even have the energy to defend herself, didn’t have the leg to stand on either.

“He was hurting, rock bottom, as bad as you were when you saw Neal again - I’m gonna go ahead and say maybe worse. And yeah, his first thought wasn’t about you. So what did you do? You left him. He needed you and you left him there to go through it alone.”

“He’s not alone,” she tried.

“That’s not the same and you know it. Emma, I know you’re scared and you try to protect yourself and you have good reason to. And because of that we let you get away with a lot, because we love you. But this? You being this selfish because you’re afraid that you might get hurt? Making this about you and your fears when it should have been about supporting the man you love? I just…” She shook her head and Emma could feel the disappointment and even the shame radiating off of her. “He’s not Neal,” she said, looking at her with an expression Emma had never seen directed at her. “But right now… you are.”

The tears burned hot in her eyes. Ruby’s words were harsh, cruel even. But… they were right. Emma looked at Mary Margaret. She looked nervous but not like she had any intention of defending her and so Emma knew she agreed. And she should. Maybe she’d just needed it to be laid out like that, to be called out on it… but Ruby was right.

She’d let Killian in, let him care for her, maybe even love her. She’d encouraged him, let him think it was safe to give her his heart, to trust her with it. And then the moment he’d needed her, the first time he hadn’t only thought about her wellbeing and her fears and had fallen victim to his own… she’d left him. She’d run out of that bar like a bat out of hell because… what? He hadn’t asked her to come to London with him? He hadn’t outright told her he needed her? She was an idiot. She should have stayed, should have gone with him.

She thought about the night before, how she’d tried to push him away, gotten wasted at that bar on cheap whiskey and he’d stayed. Not because she’d asked him to but because he knew she needed him too, even when she was saying the opposite. And when it had been her turn to do the same… she’d run. She’d only thought of herself, let her insecurities take over, let herself be blinded. She’d been selfish. She’d abandoned him. He’d never have done that to her.

“What if it’s too late?” she asked, the first of her tears making their way down her cheeks. Ruby scowled at her for a moment but it stopped when she spoke again. “What if I hurt him too much, too many times, used up all my chances. What if I ruined it and I can’t fix it.”

“You can always fix it, Emma,” Mary Margaret spoke, putting her hand on Emma’s knee. “Love, true love can always be mended. It might not be the same after, but it can be stronger.” She must have seen the look Emma was giving her because she spoke again. “Don’t. I know you like to make fun of me for believing in true love but I’m not talking about some fairytale, predestined, meant to be garbage because that’s crap. If it’s really love then you have to work for it and fight for it and you have to go and admit that you fucked up and make things better, make amends. That’s love.”

“You just have to decide if you’re gonna fight for it or not,” Ruby said. Emma watched them both. She wanted to go. She did. Killian was the best thing that had ever happened to her and she had screwed it all up and she wanted it back, she wanted him back. How she felt about him, how he made her feel, how he made her laugh and smile, his weird obsessions and his stupid quirks and his constance and his baggage... she wanted it all back. But still, years, decades, a lifetime of letdowns wouldn’t let her, froze up with fear that she was wrong. With that last little doubt.

“What if he doesn’t want me anymore. What if he can’t forgive me?”

Ruby and Mary Margaret exchanged a look, eyes wide. “What if he doesn’t -” Ruby started in disbelief. “Show her the video, Snow.”

Mary Margaret took her phone out and fiddled with it for a moment. She turned it over then and handed it to Emma. The video was dated only two days ago. It was Killian, sitting on a little stage in a bar somewhere during what looked like an open mic. She could hear people in the back of the video whispering, wondering if that was him, what he was doing there. But she ignored them, focused on him.

He looked… sad. Sad and lonely and heartbroken and everything else she was feeling right now. His playing was still immaculate, his voice was still breathtaking, but he had none of the stage presence he usually did. It was like all the fun, all the carefree confidence and charisma had been drained out of him. He still held her attention though as he sang. Sang about a woman he missed, longed for, who wasn’t here with him… a woman who was in New York.

“Is that enough proof for you?” Ruby demanded.

Emma stood, walking past them and out of the room, adrenaline running through her veins, making her heart race and her fingers tremble. She headed straight for her room, could hear her friends following her as she grabbed clothes haphazardly out of her closet and some of the boxes she had yet to unpack. Where was her bag? She huffed and she searched for it. She knew she should have unpacked when Mary Margaret told her to.

“What are you doing?” Mary Margaret asked from the doorway.

“I’m going to London.”

***

Killian was tired. He was so tired. It had been months now of talking with lawyers, of turning down Gold’s lawyers offers to strike a deal. No. There were no deals. Gold would spend the rest of his life in prison for what he’d done. He’d taken the rest of Milah’s life away from her and Killian would be damned if the monster didn’t meet the same fate.

He was headed back to the flat he’d rented with Belle and his brother when they arrived. It was strange to be back. After nearly a decade of living in the States, of living in Boston and New York and even LA for a little while. It was strange to be home. Although it wasn’t really home was it?

He’d learned long ago that home wasn’t a place. It was the people that were around him. He had his brother, his sister-in-law, he spoke to Graham and David regularly on the phone, even to Ruby and Mary Margaret sometimes… but not to her. He thought he’d found one, a new home, one they all could have made for themselves, one he could have made with her. But then it had been ripped away from him. No, not ripped. She’d taken it, walked away with it and left him behind, empty and alone to suffer through all of this. Not alone technically but… it wasn’t the same.

Today had been the first day of the actual trial. After months of preparation he had finally gotten to sit in that witness box and tell the world what a terrible, inhuman being that man was. He told them how Milah had planned to tell her husband she was leaving him that night, how she’d gone home to do so.

After not hearing from her for nearly 24 hours, he’d gone to her home, somewhere he’d never been before out of fear of her husband finding out. He hadn't truly understood her fear when they were happy and together. But he understood it then, when he found her. He told the jury about the blood, about the way she’d just been left there, tossed aside while Gold left the city. This wasn’t manslaughter, he told the jury though he knew he couldn’t change the verdict now, was reminded of it by the judge. But he said it anyway. It hadn’t been a crime of passion. It had been the cold-blooded act of a man who refused to lose something he believed belonged to him, believed he owned.

The cross-examination had been worse. Horrible, cruel questions that you shouldn’t ask someone who had lost the love of their life. Maybe not of their whole life, a little voice had piped up, but he shut it down. He couldn’t think of that. He was already spending his days reliving losing his first love. He didn’t want to be reminded that he’d lost his second, the woman that he thought might be his true love - all sappiness be damned. But she’d walked away, she’d decided not to choose him. Killian had only loved two women in his life, and both had left him. It just hurt all the more that Emma left by choice.

He’d replayed that night over and over in his head. Remembered how close he’d come to opening that bottle. He’d walked there in a daze, the recall to that time bringing back memories of the man he’d once been and he let himself step back into that man’s shoes. That man had led him straight to a bar. He’d warred with himself, he’d won. But he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out. Not when with every passing day he was reminded of how Milah had been taken from him. Not when with every passing moment he saw Emma again, walking out of that bar and out of his life… again.

He’d believed her. Believed her when she'd said that she wanted to be with him, that she’d wanted to stay. But then, after one look at the darker side of him, the moment they’d faced a challenge, the moment he’d needed her most, she’d run. It felt like someone was ripping out his heart every time he thought of it. He hadn’t been enough. He’d let himself believe he was and then she’d proven him wrong.

The pain and the heartbreak turned to anger more often than he’d have liked to admit. And he was angry with her. Angry with her for giving up on him, for giving up on them so easily. But also for disappearing from his life so completely. He could understand that she didn’t want his love anymore. But they had been friends hadn't they? Why hadn’t she reached out? Why hadn’t she called him? Why was she never around when he called Graham or David? Ruby and Mary Margaret sure seemed to be around all the damn time.

She’d disappeared, cut herself out of his life completely, and it hurt. Yes, he loved her, but he’d also grown to count on her, on her being there, on the way she made him laugh and the way she challenged him. He needed her support. But she wasn’t there. She hadn’t just left him - she’d abandoned him and that thought hurt more than any. She knew what it meant to be abandoned. She knew what she was doing to him, how it would break him, especially now when he needed her so much. She'd done it anyway.

That was the worst part. The fact that despite all his anger and her abandonment and the fact that sometimes he wanted to curse her name… he still needed her. He missed her. He loved her. He tried to stop but he couldn’t and that made it worse. She’d let him fall in love with her, had led him to believe that she could love him too and then she’d changed her mind - and he couldn’t.

He still wrote about her. But as angry and hurt as he was, he couldn’t put it into words, something stopped him every time. Instead all of his songs came out longing and heartbroken and full of love and loss - but never anger, never hate. And he knew it was because no matter what he did, his heart wouldn’t stop wanting her, missing her. And so he was left here to mourn her and hate her while the ever growing ache in his chest reminded him that he would probably never stop loving her.

That was the thought that was itching at the back of his mind as he walked up the last step to their fourth floor flat - the lift was somehow always broken. He rounded the corner towards his front door as he dug his keys out of his pocket. He looked up and froze, the keys falling through his fingers and onto the ground at his feet.

Emma. Emma was standing outside his door, a bag in her hands and bags under her eyes. She looked nervous. She saw him and her breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the strap of her duffle. His thoughts were reeling. What was she doing here? Why now? After all this time? Why hadn’t she come sooner? What could she possibly want from him now? But he didn’t voice any of them. His mouth had forgotten how to form words and so he stood there, slack jawed and dumbfounded like an idiot.

“Hi,” she said after a long, tense moment.

“Hi,” he answered because it was the only word his stupid bloody mouth seemed to be able to form. She didn’t say or do anything else, just stood there, waiting. He didn’t know what for. Someone walked by then, cast them both a strange look and it snapped him out of his thoughts a little. He picked up his keys and stepped up to the lock.

“We should probably go inside,” he told her. The walls had ears here and he didn’t want this - whatever it was - to end up on the front page of the Sun in the morning. She nodded but didn’t say anything as he fiddled with the key. She was so close. He could feel her next to him and it affected him the way it always did. He wanted to touch her, to pull her into his arms, to kiss her, to ask her to hold him and let him cry over all that had happened.

But he couldn’t. That wasn’t who she was to him anymore. He didn’t know why she was here. And seeing her again felt like having his heart broken all over again. He couldn’t handle it anymore. It had been too much pain. Between her and Milah's memory he'd suffered more pain than any man should have to take in a lifetime, let alone in a few months. So he took a page out of her book - he got angry, he put his own walls up. Angry was safe and it hurt a hell of a lot less to look at her from behind the glass around his heart.

She followed him wordlessly into the flat, into the kitchen where she dropped her bag on the floor. He opened the fridge, really wishing he could have a beer right now - or some rum, rum was always best. He clenched his fist and tried to calm it before pulling out two water bottles - a poor substitute - and handing one to her. She took it hesitantly, standing on the opposite side of the island from him. She only stared at him as they both didn’t drink and finally he couldn’t take it anymore and he spread his hands on the counter, hung his head as his knuckles turned white.

“Why are you here?” he asked, not able to look at her, not wanting to see the expressions play out on the face that he loved, the one that drew him in so easily. She left. She left, he repeated to himself. She didn’t answer at first and he was forced to look at her.

“I came for you,” she said and he wanted to laugh. Now? Now she came for him?

“Why?” he asked again and he saw it this time when the doubt flashed in her eyes. She took a deep, steadying breath and reached out her hand, placing it over his own. His own breath caught in his throat, her touch feeling like it was searing through his skin.

“You know why,” she said and it made his blood boil. He ripped his hand away.

“No, Emma, I don’t,” he snapped and saw the shock on her face. “I don’t bloody know why you’re here. You left me in that bar two months ago. You just left and then I never saw you again. You ignored me for weeks. After -” the words got stuck. “After everything that happened between us. You changed your mind and you just - god, you just fucking abandoned me there, didn’t you?” He saw the hurt in her eyes and it egged him on. Good. It was about time she hurt too, after everything she’d put him through. “My life has been hell, Emma, and right now I’m too tired to try and figure out what you’re doing here so please tell me or just leave.”

“I -” she started and he fought the guilt he felt at the way her eyes cast down, the way her shoulders slumped. She’d made this decision. Not him. Yes, he’d come back to London, but she’d chosen not to come with him, had walked away the second he told her his plans. She’d ignored him. That hurt the most. “I’m sorry,” was all she said.

“Well, that’s great, you’re sorry. You didn’t have to fly all the way across the world just to tell me that.” He saw her hesitate and it made him stop. There was something in her expression that made him think that wasn’t all she’d come to say.

She was looking at him like… like she’d looked at him that morning in his hotel room, the morning she said she wanted to try. He hated the way his heart raced in his chest, the way hope swelled there even after all she’d done.

“What did you come here to say, Emma?” he asked, his tone softer now than it had been a moment ago, but his shoulders were still tense, he still held himself back from her, on edge and afraid of the havoc he knew she could reap on his heart.

“That I-” she started quickly, rashly but she stopped and he saw the way her walls slammed up, holding her back. He hung his head. She couldn’t say it. She’d never been able to say it and she probably never would. What did she want from him? To come back and let him be her dirty little secret again? Because that’s what he’d been. She’d used him and he’d let her and then the second they even thought about being more, she’d looked for an excuse to run and she’d found one.

“Just go,” he said, his tone defeated. “Please.”

“Killian..”

“Please,” he repeated. “I appreciate you coming here and saying you’re sorry. But Emma, I can’t sit here and wait for you to be able to tell me how you feel, for you to decide that you want this to be real. Because I don’t even think you know if you do. I waited for you while you protected yourself, but I think now it’s time for me to protect myself. So please, just go,” he said.

He couldn’t look at her so he didn’t see the look on her face when she stepped back, when she picked up her bag and she walked out of the flat. He stood there for a long time after she’d left. And the longer he did the angrier he became. But not at her. At himself.

He’d accused her of not being able to admit how she felt, and maybe she hadn’t but he’d forgotten one, fundamental thing about Emma… She didn’t use words to express her feelings - she never had. Even with Ruby and Mary Margaret he rarely heard her admit how much she cared about them but she showed it with gestures, with thoughtful gifts and physical touch and by going out of her way sometimes or doing things she didn’t like just to make them happy.

He thought about the first time she’d showed him she cared, when they’d made love in that hotel room the night of Liam’s birthday, when she’d smiled at him at breakfast. He remembered how she’d struggled to tell him she liked him in the dressing room but he’d believed her because he knew already - because she showed him in her own way, by kissing him in front of their friends and holding his hand as they walked into a crowded party - and then again when they walked into the breakfast room to meet their friends. She’d written music with him, had helped him with his own songs, had let herself be vulnerable with him, let him see her fears and let him in as he helped her write… Even before all of that, she'd held his hand on the plane when he'd been scared, she'd taken him on the ferris wheel and won him that stupid giant bear. All this time, she'd been showing him and he'd been blind to it.

He was an idiot. Emma had flown to London. Yes, it had taken her a while to get here. Yes, she’d doubted him and she’d gotten scared. But she’d flown thousands of miles to come find him, to be with him. Maybe she hadn’t been able to tell him how she felt but in Emma’s language… he was a goddamn idiot. She’d flown to London for him. He didn’t need her to make a confession of love. She already had.

He rushed to the door but he knew it was too late. He ran down the hallway, down the stairs and out onto the street. But she was gone. Fuck. Fuck! He called her phone. It went straight to voicemail. He called Belle, called Liam, neither of them even knew she was coming. He called Ruby and Mary Margaret and David and Graham. Nobody knew where she was staying. The trip hadn’t exactly been planned ahead of time, Ruby pointed out. They promised to try to reach her but that she’d told them her phone was dying when she called to tell them she landed an hour ago.

He walked around town aimlessly, his heart racing every time he saw a blonde woman only to be dismayed when it wasn’t her. How many goddamn blondes were there in this city? He got a call from Ruby a little later telling him she’d spoken to her and that she was staying in a hostel in the city. She gave him the name. Said she’d told Emma he was looking for her.

He ran there. Not caring about the weird looks he got for running through the streets of London in jeans and a leather jacket. He was an idiot. He just had to hope that he hadn’t screwed it up so badly that he couldn’t fix it.

He got to the hostel and asked about her. The guy at the counter refused to tell him anything, something about customer safety which, yes, he understood that made sense but it really didn’t help him in his current predicament. He tried to bargain with the guy, tried to plead his case, but he wouldn’t budge.

He sighed, finding an armchair in the lounge and collapsing in it, his head falling into his hands.

“Hey, man,” a woman said and he turned to look at her. She was a young Asian woman, probably a few years younger than him with her hair in boxing braids. She had an American accent and a giant backpack at her feet. He raised a brow at her. “That girl you’re looking for. She about yea-high, blonde, total knockout?” she asked, holding her hand up beside her.

“Aye,” he said, hesitant but hope sparking in his chest. “Have you seen her?” he asked almost desperately.

“That depends,” the woman crossed her arms, looking impressively threatening for her age and size. “Did you hurt her?”

“No!” he answered quickly, then hesitated. “Well, not physically. But I did hurt her - that’s why I’m looking for her.”

“Are you gonna hurt her again?” she asked, raising a brow in a way that mirrored his signature move.

“I bloody hope not,” he said with a sigh. “Please, I’m just trying to make amends. I was an idiot and a tosser and I’m hoping she’ll forgive me, but I can’t ask her to if I never see her again.” The woman looked him over once with a little more judgement in her expression than Killian was really comfortable with. Then she smiled slightly, more of a smirk really.

“I always like a man who can admit he’s an idiot,” she said. “She was looking for some bar,” she continued, pulling out her phone. “The one from this video,” she turned the screen so he could see it and his heart pounded against his ribs. “I told her it’s-”

“That’s okay,” he said, standing. “I know where it is.”

She looked at him strangely before glancing down at the video again. “Oh hey, is that you?” she asked with genuine surprise.

“Aye,” he said. “Thank you…”

“Mulan,” she supplied. “I hope you find her.”

“Me too,” he admitted. As he left he heard her call out behind him.

“When you find her, tell her the whole you’re an idiot thing! You’d be surprised! It goes a long way!” He felt the smile tugging at his lips.

He walked into the bar. He knew it well, it was familiar territory for him. It was a little dingy, the drinks were cheap and carding wasn’t really a thing. Neither was cutting people off which was why it had been one of his favorite places when he was younger, and when he was a drunk. But he’d come back to it recently because it was familiar, because it was one of the first places he and Liam and Graham had played in (before they’d met David). And, because it had open mic nearly every night which meant he could just go up there when he needed a break from the real world, when he needed to let himself get lost in music for a bit.

He’d been on that stage most nights this week. The owner hadn’t complained, he’d actually brought in business now that word had gotten out that one of the Jones brothers was playing there. He was starting to think he’d have to find a new place soon. The point was to blow off steam and feel like a human being again, not to be hounded by people who wanted pictures with him and women who wanted to take him home.

He’d almost accepted a few of those offers in the first few weeks after he got here, after the preparation for the trial started and missing Emma became unbearable. But he hadn’t. One vice just led to another and it wasn’t a path he wanted to go down. And he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He might have thought that Emma had left him but he couldn’t even imagine sleeping with another woman now that he’d known her. It felt wrong. Like a betrayal, despite everything. And he knew it would only leave him empty.

He made his way inside, finding a table near the door so that he could see her if she walked in. He cast a glance around the room but she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. That was alright. He would wait. He would wait here until she came in, and if she didn’t come in then he would go back to her hostel and wait there, and if he didn’t find her there then he would bloody fly back to New York and tell her he was an idiot in America.

He had only been sitting there for a little while, drinking a rumless coke when he saw her, not at the door, but getting up on stage, borrowed guitar in hand by the looks of it. He sat up straighter, his heart racing in his chest as she settled on the stool and looked up, right at him. She didn’t look surprised. A small, hesitant smile crossed her face, despite the anxiety and the fear on it.

His heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his body at this point. Had she known he would come here? Ruby had told her he was looking for her, she’d come to the bar he played in. She’d gone on stage just minutes after he arrived. She’d expected him. Only now he had no idea what to expect. Would she be angry, hurt, had he broken this beyond repair?

“Hi,” she said into the mic and a couple of heads glanced up to look at her. He was fixated. She wasn’t looking at him, her gaze moving around the room uncomfortably. “Um, so,” she hesitated in that way she always did when she was nervous, when she had to voice her feelings. “Someone accused me today of not being able to admit how I feel... And that’s actually pretty true. I’m really shitty at talking about feelings - I’m shitty at feeling them honestly. But, this person helped me with that, with a lot of stuff.”

Killian heard a whispered “Is that Emma Swan?” as more people gave her their attention.

“I was always really afraid of love because it’s only ever hurt. So I put up some walls to keep it out. But I don’t want to keep it out anymore.” She finally looked at him and he felt her gaze in his chest, in his gut, in his heart. He smiled at her, a little, nervous, hopeful thing, and she continued. “I fucked up. I really fucked up and I’m just hoping that you can forgive me and that some part of you still feels the way you did two months ago in that hotel room because…” she hesitated, looking down before lifting her eyes back to his. “Because I love you.”

Killian sat there, awestruck and slack jawed. She loved him. She loved him and she’d said it - in front of all these people, in front of all the cameras that had come out when she’d started speaking. His whole body felt numb, like he had no control of his limbs or his fingers. But then she started playing and the song, the lyrics, the memories rushed into his bones and his skin and his blood, filling him and bringing him back to life, to her. To Emma.

“Oh don’t you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me. I said you’re holding back. She said shut up and dance with me.”

He stood, walking across the bar like a sailor drawn to a siren. He didn’t care about the whispers in the room, people recognizing him, the people filming and taking pictures and gossiping. All he could think of was her and the stupid, ecstatic smile on his face, making his cheeks hurt. As he got closer her own smile grew, doubt melting away in her eyes and replaced with an expression he’d seen there so many times before but hadn’t recognized, love. She loved him.

He hopped up on stage, not caring that he was cutting off her song and she barely had time to stand before he caught her face in his hands and kissed her hard and long to the soundtrack of cheers from the bar patrons. He felt her arms slide up his chest, felt her hands grab hold of the lapels of his jacket as her lips curled against his own, laughter bubbling out of her as he kissed her the way he’d wanted to for months. He’d missed her so damn much and now she was here in his arms and she loved him and he was never going to let her go again.

They pulled apart when a wolf whistle cut through the air, making them laugh. Killian looked down at her, into her eyes that were shiny with happiness and with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I was an idiot.”

She shook her head this time. “I love you,” she said again and he felt it fill his entire body.

“I know,” he smiled at her, at the way she rolled her eyes and smacked his chest in annoyance, trying to pull away despite the way her lips turned up. He held her fast, bringing those rolling eyes back to his. “I love you,” he told her and it felt like heaven to finally get to say those words, to finally say it out loud. She smiled, took hold of his hand that was still cupping her cheek, kissed his palm and he felt her love, words or not.

“I know,” she teased and he smiled. Because she did know. She’d known for a long time, she’d been able to read him like an open book from the beginning. He’d just taken a little longer to understand that she’d been right there with him all along.

He glanced around the room, hearing the people who were still excitedly going on about them, some of them knowing who they were, some not but caught up in the moment. He looked back at her, a little worried, knowing she liked her private life private, that that wouldn’t be an option with him.

“You sure about this, Swan?” he questioned. “I don’t think we’ll be able to hide this from the rest of the world.”

She didn’t say anything, she just kissed him again in front of a couple dozen screaming fans. He pulled her into his arms. Trial be damned, distance and time be damned, five years and running and pain and whatever else was to come be damned. He loved her and she loved him and finally, after all this time, he didn’t need to doubt it anymore. He didn’t need to doubt anything anymore. Because he knew now that he would be okay. He had her. Everything else just faded away.

#cs fanfiction #captain swan fanfiction #of cars and bars #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfic #cs angst #captain swan angst #captain swan smut #cs smut #cs au #captain swan au

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peachy-inserts · 5 years ago

Text

Tensei Confession Scenario

As requested by @fatimaville. I accidentally posted this before it was completed and ended up deleting it along with the ask—

Hope you enjoy! My apologies about the sitting style. I couldn’t decide on how i wanted it to go, so i just kept writing until i thought of something

My apologies if it’s choppy or seems straightforward; its been awhile!

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In the earlier days, before the rise and then of course, fall, of Stain, Tensei had been known for his strikingly quick reflexes and beaming confidence. Citizens all over the area had seen him at least once, whether it be in action or passing by on patrol. Though it was a rare occasion that he would bare his face in the public eye, it wasn’t difficult to realize he was smiling underneath his steel mask. This friendly and easy-going demeanor was his rise to fame; tabloids and magazines slapped him on the cover of their latest issues, spilling alleged rumors of affairs with other pro-heroes that were simply nothing more than desperation and deceit at the wrung out hands of a tired freelance journalist looking for a quick buck. It was plain to see that he couldn’t even stand close to All Might himself, and yet, he could have very well been the Symbol of Peace with his attitude alone.

Team Idaten had since quickly fell in productivity and credibility, their front man being paralyzed from the waist down and forced into retirement. You had been there to see it all; it pained you deeply to see the once fearless and confident man be reduced to nearly half of his former self. He was thankful to have you by his side, and you certainly were glad to have been there as well, but things just weren’t the same. It depressed you to see him wheel himself into the room, grunting through his kind smile, and that smile fooled you, but only for a second. Like his heavy sighs, happiness was only fleeting.

“Hey-” he grinned at you, leaning forward and reaching out with once hand to tug at your shirt sleeve. “I spoke to my lawyer; he’ll take it over from here. Thank you for everything so far, I don’t know how I would have made it without you. I’m so sorry to have burdened you with this for so long.”

For the last several weeks or so, you had been assisting him with some legal documents regarding his retirement and the passing of his name to Tenya. Actually, he hadn’t even came to you with the matter; you just missed seeing him so often, having been an intern for his agency. Knowing that you would no longer get to see him everyday, you latched on to any opportunity to be able to help him; you see, for quite some time you had been wanting to confess to the man. Every time he entered the room you were reduced to a trembling pile of nervous stutters and unfulfilled fantasies of what could possibly be, if only you had the courage. Oh, the things you could do together, the things you could show him; he’d take care of you for life, and you him. But that was nothing but a pipe dream. It was ridiculously silly to imagine that he ever would have considered you, a measly assistant to his agency he would occasionally greet in the mornings on his way to make conversation with the people who actually mattered to him. It wasn’t your fault though! The way he carried himself with an unshakable sureness of himself and readiness to help others at the expense of his own safety had you smitten the minute you laid your eyes on him. You did see him every day... would it really be so ridiculous after all?

“Oh-” you were startled at the sudden touch, his calloused and worn hands grazing your wrist. How could such a passive touch be considered so intimate to you? “Don’t worry about it, really!”. You quickly forced all your dreams of possible romance away, back into the depths of your subconscious. Turning up to face Tensei, you offered him a warm smile, bringing a twinkle to his eye. “It really was just a matter of organization, since there’s nothing I could really do legal wise. I actually just enjoyed being able to help you.”

He chuckled. Over the past few years that you had been working under him, he had been attentive to your desire to assist him; Tensei admired this about you, and respected you for it. You reminded him of himself in ways, something that drew him closer to you. Had anyone else offered to take over his paperwork, he would have profusely refused, but if he was being honest with himself, he accepted your plea for no other reason than to possibly create a personal relationship with you. Sure, Tensei felt a twinge of guilt for having used you for such a selfish reason, but at the same time he didn’t. He knew you had feelings for him; he had known you for years and after working against deviants for quite some time, he was easily able to read people and what they were feeling. He knew how you felt; so then why, pray tell, was he still so afraid?

“Well, that I’m glad to hear” he looked you in the eye and pat your back. “Please, tell me. Is there any way I could repay you?”

Typically, you would say no, don’t worry about, my treat, but perhaps you were feeling bold today. Bold? No, not bold. Tired, worn. Sick of watching what very well could be the love of your life pass by every day, without speaking to him nay for small talk, without letting him know how you don’t think at this point you’d be able to make it without being able to see him. No, this was no way to live... so what if you were rejected? It’s not like you’d be the first person. It’s not like he’d ever tell anyone. So what were you waiting for?

“Well...” you looked down and felt the heat rise in your cheeks. “I know this is silly, considering I’ve been making this route since I took up this job, but with the sun setting later than usual I’m pretty nervous walking home” You shook your head, not so subtly, obviously having regretted everything you just said. Tensei simply laughed, making you feel foolish, when in reality he just thought that it was pretty cute of you to have asked.

“I don’t mind coming with you; it’s my number one priority to make sure this world is safe, even I can’t do it as much as I would like anymore”

The two of you spent the whole way chatting and locking eyes. Oh, how strange it felt. Your stomach was in jitters and sent itself up your spine in chills that caused you to shiver every time his broad, detailed face turned to you with a grin that was for you, and only for you. It made him happy beyond explanation to have accompanied you, not just because he got to fulfill his duty, but because he got to spend time with you. The breeze blew your hair back behind your head, and he couldn’t help but admire your features and appreciate them for all that they were. At times, it was hard to concentrate on the topic at hand; he was simply so enamored by everything about you, down to the way you would tilt your chin ever so slightly and nod to let him know you were paying attention. With you by his side, everything was perfect; maybe this atmosphere was what prompted him to spill his guts to you.

Suddenly, he stopped. Having been looking forward, you take a few steps before you turned around and realized that had had been sitting idly. His expression was one of reluctance, but the twinkle in his eye was still present.

“Tensei? What’s the matter?” He stared off over your shoulder, towards the sun, were it present.

“Hm?” he shook himself back to reality. “Oh, damn, I’m sorry; I must have been lost in thought”

A pregnant, tense silence ensued while the both of you love-sick kids choked on your own emotions.

“You know something?” he scratched at the nape of his neck, perhaps from nerves, something he was considerably good at hiding; but tonight, that was not the case. “You know, I see you every day, for all this time... and I’ve always thought pretty highly of you”.

“...but know that I won’t be at the agency every day, I find myself... troubled, to say the least. I kinda miss your face greeting me in the mornings... it’s not really something I’d like to leave behind”.

You sighed, chuckling softly to yourself. Nuh-uh, no way... “Aw, that’s awfully, uh... kind of you! I’ve really enjoyed this too”. What were you supposed to say?

“I guess- I guess what I’m trying to say is... I may not have been entirely sure of it before, but now that I’ve been faced with leaving you behind, I... may have developed some kind of attraction. Uh, towards you, of course”.

You nearly choked on your own tongue. ‘Uh- I... come again?”

Tensei came closer to you, taking your hand into his own. You stood frozen; this can’t be a dream, right?

No, it couldn’t be. You could feel his pulse in his fingertips, feel how rough his hands were, and how the skin contrasted to yours so heavily, his being hard from years of training and physical brutality. It was real.

“What I’m saying is-” he looked up at you, smiling oh so gently, so that you felt at ease and let yourself melt onto the pavement, only to be caught in his embrace. “...I don’t think I wanna let you just be a passing part of my life. I want you; I want you to be there to greet me every day. Every week day, weekend, or vacation day. I keep finding myself falling deeper and deeper into you, and a this point I wouldn’t have it any other way. You may just be the most endearing, authentic person that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, and as the days go by I think about you more and more”.

Without thinking, almost without conscious, you kissed him, easy and gentle. Taken aback by your sudden advance, and still recovering from the fear of rejection, Tensei remained stiff; but only for a moment. Scared, you pulled back, ready to sputter out an apology, before he went in for another, this time the sweetest and most genuine intimacy you had ever felt. The world around was still and atmospheric; all was perfect.

You’d remember that simple night for the rest of your days.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #tensei iida #ingenium #bnha imagine #tensei x reader #scenario

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meetevieinthehallway · 6 years ago

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i wish you were the one who told me.

in which harry’s lack of memory is the part that hurts the most.

“do you love me?”

the question sounded ridiculous.

how could she ask him this when every day he accuses whatever higher spirit that they sent down an angel to earth instead of keeping her in their haven. how could she ask him this when he looks at her like she spun the stars into their orbits and as if she was the reason that the earth had sunlight. how could she ask— question that—

“of course i do.”

his voice was shakier than he wished it had been; he didn’t want her to believe that there was any hesitation in his response.

“as much as you always said you did?”

“yes. more than that, more than ever.”

the room was tense.

it was evidently tense and harry was looking at his love as she sat away from his body on their sofa, her posture stiff as her hands rested on her thighs. her eyes were downcast on her fingertips and her eyebrows were furrowed, hands twitching and shaking with nerves and hesitation and ultimate sadness.

“i just— i..” she was at a loss for words. “i dunno what to say, h.”

his lip was bright red because of how crazily he’s been chewing on it, the skin going on its fifth hour of abuse as he sits in front of his girl. he wanted her to look at him, to see the truth in his eyes and to see the pain in his features, because god, she has to believe me.

“love.” his voice was weak and cracking. “i promise you, she—” he swallowed as his hands rubbed at his jeans, fingers practically sore from dialing her number all day. “she came onto me, okay? she had to have because i-i don’t want— i don’t want her, you’re the only woman i could ever want.” he gasped. “i’d never do that to you— never would i hurt you.”

it had been a long night.

a long night, and now a long day.

his girl had encouraged her boyfriend to go out with the friends that invited him, not knowing that his ex would be at the same club, at the same booth. she suspected nothing was wrong, because harry had come home drunk and whining for his love and she only smiled and brought him up to bed as he kissed at her neck.

it seemed like a normal night where harry parties with his friends.

but oh, this wasn’t a normal night.

they had lied in bed in the morning giggling and kissing and it wasn’t until harry played his voicemails out that the room dropped in temperature.

hey mate, jus’ makin’ sure you got home alright! we gotta do it again sometime: super fun. i know you had fun too, ‘specially with kendall. nice to see ya, mate, talk to ya later!

harry’s eyes had increased in their size as he held his phone, staring at it and watching it roll off his fingertips and onto his stomach.

“kendall?”

his love next to him had the same size eyes but these ones were gradually watering. her lips parted as she threw herself out of bed, harry’s voice speaking her name slowly. she stood, shaking, her arm reaching out and her finger pointing at his phone. harry couldn’t move.

“what— what…” she stammered, eyes glossy. “what does he mean? what— what did you do, harry?” she whispered, the accusing finger starting to shake. “why is he saying you guys had fun?”

“i—” he was at a loss for words. he didn’t think anything happened, just that he and kendall were both present at the same table and that they barely said a word to each other. harry sat up, racking his brain for any recollection of anything that happened with her. “nothing happened.” his head shook side to side.

“it fucking sounds like something did!”

“love i—” he shook his head. “she was there, yes, but nothing happened. i don’t know why he—”

“do you know nothing happened or do you not remember something that did happen?”

and harry could never lie to her.

maybe her questions haven’t been all that ridiculous.

it’s been a whirlwind of a day.

she had walked out the minute his silence confirmed his lack of memory of the previous night, and she returned hours later with tears down her beautiful face and an article pulled up on her phone.

harry styles and kendall jenner rekindle romance with a steamy kiss and night out on the town!

she hasn’t looked at him since she walked back through their door.

“please.” he whispered. “lovie.”

“harry if you call me any name like that one more time—”

“i’m sorry.” he whispered quickly, tears starting to blind his vision and sting his waterline, but he kept looking at her, blinking excessively yet still not capable of ridding the blurriness. “i am, i am.” he murmured, his lips trembling.

“i think i should go.” she whispered, eyes on her hands. “i-i… i don’t wanna be here.”

“wait—” he pleaded as she stood, harry standing with her and blocking her path.

her voice was weak. “harry—”

“i-i’ll give you space, i swear, please… please stay.” he whispered, fingers gently holding her forearms. “please, stay until i-i figure this out—”

she ripped herself away from his hands, skin burning from his touch. “there is nothing to figure out!”

this is the first time she’s looked at him since this early morning with her teary irises, when she was trembling and her mind was dizzy. her eyes now were laced with those same tears, but mixed with anger, heartbreak, hardness. she wasn’t trembling.

“you fucking kissed another girl while i sat here, in this home in your fucking clothing daydreaming about you.”

her hands shoved at his chest, his feet stumbling backwards until he was backed against the nearest wall, his eyes leaking as he sobbed.

“i refuse to sit here any longer just because you can’t get a fucking grip on what you have done.” those tears still filled her eyes but they did not spill down her cheeks. “i am ‘figuring this out’, for the two of us. i’m done.”

she stormed out for the second time that day, the slam of the door leaving harry against the wall with tears splattered over the hardwood flooring, his fingertips and his cheeks. he wiped his face with the back of his hand, sniffling as he sagged his way to the floor. his cries were uncontrollable and soul shaking, arms wrapped around his middle as he trembled.

proper job, harry.

he was sobbing.

you just lost the best thing that ever happened to you.

—

he was still on the floor when his phone rings.

it was hours later that his phone produces a harmony that pulls him back down to reality and makes him realize that he’s been sitting and crying and thinking for this long.

he peered over at the couch, seeing the blue light from his phone reflect onto the ceiling and—fearing his legs wouldn’t work—he crawled over, grasping it quickly. he told himself before he saw his lock-screen to not get his hopes up, but the realization that it’s not her, but mitch, calling, still twists the knife lodged into his chest.

he moved slowly, sniffling, his body acting as if it was swimming in a vat of molasses. he sat back against the wall, bringing the phone to his ear.

“hey.” he mumbled, his voice croaking.

“mate!” he was laughing, and harry pursed his lips. he looked up into the darkened living room, pondering about how he could not going have a lighthearted conversation right now. “can you believe the tabloids!” he was still laughing, and harry sniffed.

he swallowed thickly. “what’s funny about them, mitch?”

“they’re fucking ridiculous!!” he was still laughing, cackling in harry’s ear as the younger man sighed.

“what? me fucking up is just hilarious, mate?” he grunted out, eyes teary but voice hard.

his chuckled repressed and there was a pregnant pause before mitch gives off a quiet “wait a minute” through his speaker. “you don’t actually believe that happened? damn, mate, how drunk were you?”

“what?” all the air had left harry’s lungs as he peered around the room. “what are you on about?”

“i’m confused.” mitch laughed awkwardly. “uh.. we’re talking about the tabloid of you and kendall.”

“yeah, i know.” harry said, feeling sick as he thought about it. about the idea of kendall, but more so about the idea of betraying the one woman he’s ever truly loved, the one he wants for the rest of his life. “i kissed her last night.”

“uh... no, you didn’t.”

the wall behind him wrapped around his body. “what?”

“h, the article’s fake.”

harry coughed, arm coming to his mouth before his knuckles smacked to the floor. “b-but there’s photos!”

“pretty sure they’re photoshopped from a time when you and kendall were a rumor.”

silence. harry’s fingers released his phone, the device about to fall when he half catches it, fumbling greatly and cursing. his mind was spinning, a wave of nausea coursing through his bloodstream; he was staring at the couch, eyes flittering and trying to focus. “w-what? it- it’s fake?”

“yeah. i mean— c’mon mate. even if you wanted to kiss her i wouldn’t have fuckin’ let you.”

“i— mitch.” he whispered, lungs vacant of any oxygen. “this makes no sense.” he breathed. “why did jeff call and say that i ‘had fun with her’?”

“i dunno.” he said “probably sarcastic because you cussed her out.”

“i cussed her out?!”

“yeah.” he mumbled. tears sprung to harry’s eyes, confusing and watery and blurring his sight as he tried to zero in on anything. mitch sighed. “you really don’t remember anything?”

“no!” harry’s breath was picking up, his hands trembling. he pulled his legs into his chest, body feeling weak. his heart is pulsing, throbbing, a tornado of emotions swirling in his abdomen.

“oh, well.” he cleared his throat. “she kept tryin’ t’get you to go back to her place but y’stood up at the table and you yelled about how you’d never betray your girl and you would never want to do anything with her. made her cry, ‘nd she left.” he says slowly, pauses between his words as he recollects on the exact actions.

pure, utter silence.

“call my girl.”

his words were what broke the pause hanging in the air and that dropped the temperature of the room.

“mitch, call my girl.” he whispered, heart stammering as his palm came to his chest.

“what?”

“mitch, fucking call her. tell her what y’told me, please.” he sobbed. “she’s not gonna believe me. please.”

“oh shit!” he gasped. “she thinks you cheated!? oh shit, h—”

“mitch.” he croaked. “please.”

“o-okay. yeah. let me—” he hangs up quickly, harry’s phone crashing to the floor simultaneously.

he didn’t think he had any tears left, but here they were— spilling over his lips as he sobbed into himself. he was muttering and praying, rocking and shaking because this was all too fucking much.

“fuck fuck fuck.”

he doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there until his phone pings, twice, simultaneously, one text from mitch and one from the girl he’s in love with.

all set, mate.

i’m on my way home, harry.

—

the door slammed. harry couldn’t move; it felt as if he was cemented to the floor ever since he received her message. his body wasn’t letting him function properly, keeping him to the floor so he could feel all the forces of everything that occurred that day.

“h?”

her voice was softer and more nervous than ever before, making him shiver in his place. he parted his lips to speak, but no words emerged.

“h?”

“y-yeah.” he said quietly, hesitant as he heard the growing footsteps coming his way.

he saw her feet first. loud steps with wet shoes and harry questions himself if she had been walking in the rain. her wet coat answered that for him, her body stopping in front of him. her lips parted as she stared at him crumbled in a ball on the floor.

she doesn’t remember a time where he looked worse.

his frame was slouched and crumpled into his own body, a sad look on his face.

he looked small.

small and cold and frail and his neck and nose and cheeks were flushed red, his shoulders twitching. his hair had fallen onto his forehead and curled by his temples, his lip bit as he gazed up at her. he looked like a child who’s been scolded, crouched to the floor in fear and acknowledgment of a wrongdoing.

she couldn’t stand to see him this way.

“stand up, h.”

“i-i..” he looked down and sniffled. “dunno if i can.”

when harry looked up again there was a hand outstretched in front of his face, and his eyes flicked to look at his girl. he couldn’t read her expression, her eyes weren’t teary but her skin was red, and her stance was stiff but it looked as if he could push her over with his exhale. he slipped his fingers between hers, her arms pulling him to his feet. his balance was off, so his back fell against the wall, but his eyes stared at hers intently, his arms feeling weighed down.

“i’m out of questions.” her voice was a whisper, and when her hand fell out of his, she looked down. “y-you… all of this wasn’t real.” her voice was halfway lifted into the tone of a question, sounding defeated and troubled.

harry’s feet planted themselves a little bit firmer. “d-did mitch tell you everything?”

she nodded. “i— yeah.” she swallowed. “i wish you were the one who told me.”

“y-y’wouldn’t’ve answered.”

“i know.”

the air was tense again, and although the pauses were long, the mood was not awkward; they both could feel the weakness of the other. this situation was so fucked up, causing both of them utter pain and heartbreak and for nothing.

she felt utterly stupid.

there’d always been tabloids: ones that fabricate and cheat and steal and lie and harry always told her to ignore them.

but she couldn’t help it. this one had felt different, because even harry couldn’t confirm that an article was fake or real because of something he didn’t remember.

she felt utterly, astoundingly, stupid.

harry has never given any indication that he would be the cheating type— even the flirting-with-other-women-type. his past was clean, always filled of love and admiration for her, so why in the hell did she believe a stupid story?

“mitch said you yelled at her for flirtin’.” she didn’t know how to say it, how to apologize to the love of her life because she accused him so quickly when he was just as confused as she was. she sniffled once, then her hand went to her mouth as she whimpered, her eyes flicking up to him. he sighed and her fingers fell from her lips, eyes shining and mouth open. “i don’t wanna cry anymore, harry.” she whimpered.

he pulled her into his chest. he was still leaning against the wall as he grabbed her and pulled her close, his arms wrapping over her shoulders while her arms fell to his waist.

“this is all my fuckin’ fault, h.”

“no it isn’t.” he hushed her. “i’ve made you cry.” he whispered, throat bobbing with the confession. “i hurt you.” he was sponging kisses onto the top of her head, his cheek rubbing at her hair in anguish while she cried into him. he hadn’t felt her touch for the entirety of this day, and as desperate as that sounded, his skin touching hers sent flames into his chest. “i’m so sorry, lovie.” his voice sounded drowned.

“i’m sorry i doubted you.” she whimpered, pulling back to look at him. “if i didn’t this would’ve never happened and—”

“it’s okay,” he whispered, smiling sadly. he wiped at her under eye, his thumb moving to caress her cheekbone. “i understand it—the doubts, the questions—i do.”

“but i shouldn’t’ve believed a fucking paper so quickly.” she sniffled. “stupid fuckin’ media—”

“i believed it myself.” he murmured, shaking his head. “everything is okay, now, right?”

“is it?”

harry gazed at his girl, blinking his eyes around her face as he took in all the sadness in her features.

“everything is okay.”

“everything?”

“everything.”

he waited for her to nod, then kissed her on the forehead and pulled her close, swaying her body against his gently. “all is okay.” he whispered into her ear.

“okay.” she sighed.

the living room was still dark.

“i feel like ‘ve aged ten years just today, h.”

he pulled back and placed his forehead onto her’s.

“i know, lovie, me too.” her fingers touched his cheek. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry too.”

“i love you, okay?”

“i love you.”

“can we just—”

“pretend this day never happened?”

“please.”

“can we make a new pact?” she murmured. he nodded slowly.

she reached out, hand grabbing his palm, staring at his eyes intently. he brought her lips down, sponging them across his knuckles before she took her pink and hooked it through his. “never believe any articles or tweets or—…” she bit her lip. “confirm it with each other, yeah?”

“yeah.” he breathed. “absolutely.”

his voice was a whisper and the two looked into each others eyes, before harry brought their pinkies to his mouth and kissed them.

and when she sadly giggled at the action, he held the sides of her face and kissed her lips deeply, lifting his back off of the wall.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #styles #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #angst #harry one shot #harry styles au #harry blurb #one shot #fluff

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winchester90210 · 5 years ago

Text

The BH 90210 Rewrite. Bonus #2: The E! True HollyWood Story

Rewrite Masterlist

My work is not to be reposted and/or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is fine and encouraged!!)

Chapter Summary: E! News has made a documentary on you, following Shannen's. Although it may seem like the full story, remember-- media is still media and there's still things that need to be uncovered. Italics are the narration.

Warnings: mentions of drugs, addiction, sex, adultery, divorce, rumors, tabloids.

Word count: 2,500

A/N: Like the other bonus chapter, this isn't necessary for the rewrite itself, but will supply background knowledge for the reboot! Hope you guys enjoy :)

July 19th, 2008. E! True Hollywood Stories.

America's sweetheart. The girl who played with fire. An old interview of yours pops up on screen, from when you were promoting season 4 on 90210.

"Shannen's a lot more... headstrong than I am, for sure. She gets me in trouble from time to time," you laugh. Y/N Perry. She blew audiences away with her portrayal of Y/N Y/L/N on Beverly Hills, 90210. But she wasn't always the wholesome 90's starlet.

Jason Priestley, "Y/N was one of my best friends. I've never met anyone with a bigger heart." Her romantic and musical exploits made her a tabloid heavyweight. But her friendship with notorious bad girl Shannen Doherty was what made her a target. This is the story of Y/N Perry. The E! True Hollywood Story.

Y/N wasn't always the romantic we knew her to be, but that charming sparkle in her eye quickly became a trademark for her.

June 20th, 1972, Y/N was welcomed to James and Carol Clark's upper-class home.

A man, Kevin McLaren comes on screen with the title "Entertainment Journalist." He speaks, "Y/N was born into a catholic family in Columbus, Ohio, and they had her working in commercials by the time she was eight." Her family then located to Encino, California. From there she joined a Children's drama group where a talent agent immediately took notice. Not long after, she was introduced to TV star, Tom Selleck.

Mary Murphy, senior editor of TV guide, "Selleck sort of... discovered her. Her teacher at the theater group introduced them and he seemed to see something in her. He was her mentor, she really looked up to him. He even got her her first major acting job." She had a 3 year stint on Magnum P.I. as Carol Baldwin's spunky and outspoken niece. She later won the role of Diane Court in the 1989 classic Say Anything, opposite John Cusack which was what began her lift to stardom. The buzz from the romantic comedy hit veteran TV producer Aaron Spelling, who was currently auditioning actors for a new series.

Aaron Spelling, 1993, "We went through hell with casting. It took weeks to pick everyone out. Then, Tori came to me one night talking to me about the lead girl in Say Anything, Y/N Clark. She was telling me "She's perfect, you have to hire her." and I told her uh, we'll see." That show was Beverly Hills, 90210. And in February of 1990, Y/N landed the part of Y/N Y/L/N. But she had originally gone for a different part.

You, an Arsenio interview in 1995, "I was called in to read for Brenda at the beginning, Y/N Y/L/N didn't exist. I didn't get the part obviously, and I was totally crushed. But then a few weeka later my agent called me to let me know that they had written a new character, and they wanted me to play the part. This was after they had filmed the two part pilot, which was why I'm in the second episode." The cast included several unknown actors, including Spelling's daughter Tori, Jennie Garth, Ian Ziering, Luke Perry, Jason Priestley, and established actress and Y/N's soon-to-be best friend, Shannen Doherty. The cast bonded immediately. And while Y/N would continue to become closer with the entire cast, she was instant best friends with Doherty, both of them bonding over their similar family lives and careers.

On October 4th, 1990, Beverly Hills 90210 premiered on the fledgling Fox network. The series clicked immediately with teen audiences, and so did the hot young cast. 17 year old Y/N Clark was center stage. She was a magnet for paparazzi, but she didn't understand how wanted she truly was until leaving a night club with Tori Spelling and Shannen Doherty one night, when they were immediately surrounded. The night was heavily publicized-- magazine covers and gossip columns.

You, 1992 at the red carpet with Tori and Shannen for the MTV Video Music Awards, "Just don't believe everything you read, tabloids are nasty and they only want to twist the truth and bring out the worst in people. They'll dig anywhere they can to get something that shows in the worst light possible." 90210 was becoming the most famous zip code in the country. You, 1992, sitting down for a casual interview on Howard Stern, "I don't think anyone expected the show to take off like it did. No one is quite used to it yet, at least I'm definitely not. On one hand, the attention is flattering and I'm grateful for all the love, but on the other... it's definitely a little scary." 90210 originally centered around the Walsh Family as they tackled their new surroundings. But as the show carried on, it turned into an ensemble show.

Mary Murphy, "They all had different opinions about the switch. Shannen was definitely happier when every episode was going to be about Brandon, Brenda, and Y/N. She didn't like the shift in attention at all, and she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. Y/N, though, wanted to keep to herself and was willing to go where the show took her, wherever that was." During the very beginning of the first season, Clark would become infatuated with castmate Luke Perry, but he immediately rejected her, due to her being barely 18 at the time. Things heated up later for her though, when she and Jason Priestley began dating near the end of filming the first season.

Tori Spelling, for the documentary, "Y/N and Jason were so crazy about each other. It was so sweet. If you ever look at behind the scenes stuff from the show, they're all over each other. I think their chemistry really translates on screen, and that's what made Y/N and Brandon so great."

You, the Today Show, "Our relationship was so wholesome. I was so in love with him. I had been eighteen for a while and he'd just turned 20 or 21, we were total babies back then!"

Jason, "I remember the night we got together. She'd been flirting with uh, Brian-- Brian Austin Green the entire night, it was a cast Christmas party and I was grumpy, unbelievably grumpy. And I couldn't figure out why. Ian Ziering had to pretty much spell it out for me because everyone else knew why and they were pretty fed up. I was head over heels for her from the start."

They would continue to date for almost five years. But romancing Priestley and befriending Doherty would prove to be an unlucky combination for her.

Joe E. Tata, 2001, "When the tabloids got ahold of her and Jason, they had a field day. They followed them on dates, to clubs. Everywhere." Shannen and Y/N continued to fuel the fire with non-stop partying and clubbing.

Kevin McLaren, entertainment journalist, "After working non-stop since she was a child and being 21 and newly exposed to things like drugs, alcohol, sexual freedom, she certainly fell prey to it all." 1993 was just on the horizon. But little did she know it would become her most dramatic year yet.

Charles Rosin, producer of 90210, "We do know, during 90210, when there was a lot of coverage on the tabloids that we had people in our own crew spreading stories and feeding them information."

Jason Priestley, 2001, "It was horrible. We felt so violated. I remember Y/N/N being absolutely destroyed. And that made me feel awful, because there was nothing I could do, nothing she could do. We had to sit there and take it all."

Clark would continue to be slammed with press, her partying habits only elevating as the tabloids became more and more vicious. Rumors of her being pregnant with other castmates babies, cheating on Jason Priestley, sex tapes, and an oxycodone addiction.

You, filming an MTV interview, 1998, "Media loves to make you and break you. They build you up, and they tear you down twice as hard. It's... ridiculous. But it comes with the job description, I guess. For a while I just felt like I couldn't do anything right." Her frequent club nights came to a crashing halt, as Jason Priestley became fed up with it, and managers and agents became worried of her further tarnishing of her good girl image.

Jennie Garth, "Her and Jason were a real fireball together. Jason adored her, so when he saw her start to spin out of control he gave her an ultimatum. Either she settles down and stays away from the party scene, or he leaves. She was crazy in love with him, so she had no other choice." But her image and her drama didn't stop her from bonding closely with yet another co-worker. Luke Perry. Despite being rejected early on, Y/N maintained a friendly close relationship with Luke and as those two became closer, so did their characters.

Heidi Parker, Playboy, "Y/N, Jason, and Luke were very close. Although Y/N got along with everyone, those boys loved her, and she loved them. It was a really strong, intimate friendship. Despite Jason and Y/N being in love, that didn't stop people from insisting Luke and Y/N were seeing each other. I mean, when you saw them on screen, it was completely electric and everyone caught wind of that. It spawned some awful rumors. This girl hadn't done a thing to anyone, but her mere association with Doherty was what dragged her in to begin with. Y/N was known for being a total sweetheart on set, yet she was still getting pummeled. It got out of control. Everyone who knew her loved her and everyone who read about her hated her."

At the end of 1996, Jason and Y/N parted ways. After almost 5 years of dating, Y/N moved out of their shared condo and into a Beverly Hills apartment with Tori Spelling.

Jill Ishkanian, US Weekly, "Everyone was surprised when they split. They had talked marriage, they had talked kids. But she left him after they had gotten in a fight about Shannen. Jason did not want Shannen around as often as she was and Y/N wasn't willing to let Shannen go that easily. She was Shannen's main support system, especially with all of her relationship struggles. Two failed marriages, a handful of abusive relationships. Y/N was the only stable thing she had. So, she dumped him, packed her things and left." Y/N went on a few dates with Ian Ziering a few months after, but they quickly decided they were better as friends and they kept it professional from there on out.

You, late night with David Letterman, 2000, "Oh, everyone hooked up with everyone. I definitely wasn't one to stray from that. We were so young, everyone was so attractive on that show, I mean it was kind of inevitable."

Clark and Spelling would live together for two years, with Spelling being a shoulder to lean on during the fallout.

You, 1996, "Look, it's not a pretty scene for anyone and I really just need... privacy right now. It would be great if people could stop asking me about it." As the couple fought in real life, so did their characters.

Jennie Garth, "When Jason and Y/N broke up it was chaos. There was a good period where they didn't even want to be near each other, let alone make out all day at work, y'know? They weren't exactly fighting, but they wanted nothing to do with the other, they were miserable. Luke had been gone at that point and the producers were freaking out because they had planned out this whole thing with Brandon and Y/N and they had to scrap it, because with them butting heads it just wouldn't work. So they switched gears and had their characters fight too. I think it was just cathartic enough to get them close again." They repaired their damaged relationship slowly but surely, just in time for things to heat up with Clark and ANOTHER 90210 alumni.

In the winter of 1997, Y/N and Luke Perry embarked down a romantic path, sharing their first kiss at Tori Spelling's casual New Years Eve party with their friends and families.

Tori Spelling, "When they started dating it was like everything fell into place. It dawned on everyone how perfect they were for each other, I know Jason wasn't thrilled about it, but we were all genuinely happy for them."

Jennie Garth comes onto the screen. "Luke and Y/N/N have always made sense to me. They're both very humble, well rounded people. And they always had this really flirty element to them from the start, I'm surprised it took that long," she laughs. A year and a half later, they tied the knot with a small private ceremony at their shared home in Beverly Hills, California. Costing only $20,000, it was the cheapest wedding of all of the 90210 clan's. And in June of 1999 they welcomed their first child, a baby girl, Sophie. Selling their 3 million dollar home, they moved into a 6 million dollar house outside of Hollywood, accidentally moving in next to none other than Jason Priestley.

Thankfully that caused no serious drama between the two families. But the finale of Beverly Hills, 90210 caused a stir that no one could have expected. Priestley made a surprise guest appearance that reportedly caused more drama off screen than on.

Jennie Garth, MTV, 2000, "It's so ridiculous. Everything was just weirdly timed. Jason being on the show had nothing to do with his divorce and it has nothing to do with Y/N's pregnancy, either. People love to make stuff up and cause drama that wasn't there to begin with and it's probably so exhausting for her."

Shortly after appearing on 90210, Priestley filed for divorce, ending his 8 month long marriage. Around the same time, the Perrys announced their second pregnancy. Tabloids began to say that Y/N had caused the divorce and that she was secretly pregnant with Priestley's baby.

Tori Spelling, "Those were so awful and so fake. Her son is a carbon copy of Luke, I'd be floored if Jason was the father..." "I think that part of Jason will always be in love with her... and that shined through in the finale a little bit and that's what people are picking up on. But her and Luke are soulmates. She has a good head on her shoulders, a lot of integrity."

Shannen Doherty, the Rosie O'Donnel Show, 1997, "Y/N's my best friend in the entire world, we went to Ireland together last summer and everything. Yeah, her and I have always been close."

Jennie Garth, "She's incredibly intelligent, super funny. Easily one of the strongest women I know."

Join us tomorrow when we air Tori Spelling: The E! True Hollywood Story. Only on E!

Taglist: @be-patient-be-good @mpmarypoppins @bevelyhills90210 @blueoz @harleylilo88 @princess-ghost-alien @hueycat2004 @l4life

#beverly hills 90210 #bh90210 #90210 #rewrite #jason priestley #jason priestley x reader #bh90210 imagine #jennie garth #tori spelling #luke perry #jason priestley imagine #shannem doherty #90queue10 #beverly hills 90210 rewrite

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thenovelartist · 6 years ago

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Catalyst, chapter 5

@miraculouspaon I’M SO SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH! But here’s the last chapter of your Secret Santa gift.

<<< Previous AO3 Fanfiction

“I’m going to propose.”

Gabriel paused at his son’s sudden admission before slowly setting down his glass of wine. His son was sitting in the chair next to his, looking somewhat anxious for a response.

“I… can’t say I’m fully surprised,” Gabriel finally said. “It’s clear your relationship with Miss Dupain-Cheng has grown considerably stronger.”

Adrien gave a half smile. “I just wanted to let you know.”

“I appreciate it,” Gabriel said, letting a short silence slip between them. “And, I approve.”

Gabriel watched Adrien’s posture relax, his shoulders easing and smile grow wider.

“Would you like me to call my jeweler?” Gabriel asked. “I may approve, but I will not have the media speculating over you walking into a jewelry shop.”

“I would appreciate that, Father,” he said.

“However, there is one thing I would like before you propose.”

Adrien’s expression grew serious. “What is it?”

“May I be allowed to meet Miss Dupain-Cheng’s parents first?”

Adrien responded with a half-cringe, half-grin and a blush. “Yes, we’ll set that up.”

…

In the handful of months they had been dating, Nathalie was surprised at just how truly affectionate Gabriel could be. It wasn’t large sweeping gestures, but the little things such as him sneaking up behind her, placing his hands on her hips and hovering his head over her shoulder.

She truly loved the intimacy of such simple things.

“Adrien recently informed he he’s going to propose.”

Nathalie smiled. “I can’t say I’m surprised,” she quietly replied.

“It still surprised me.”

She took a partial step backwards, her back now leaning against his chest. He set his chin down on her shoulder but never moved his hands. “He’s growing up,” she answered.

“I know,” Gabriel said. “And I have to let him.”

She smirked. “Harder than you thought it would be?”

He hummed.

She reached up to put her hand on his cheek. “I’m proud of you for encouraging him.”

Gabriel moved his hand from her waist to her wrist, holding her hand there so he could press a kiss to her palm. Despite the gesture being small, her heart raced. Those affectionate ways of his may be subtle, but they still did things to her. More than he may realize.

“Adrien set up a dinner so I could meet the Dupain-Chengs,” Gabriel said, releasing her completely and walking back to his desk. “I hope you will join me.”

Despite missing his presence, Nathalie pretended it didn’t affect her. “They are aware I would be coming?”

“They said Adrien’s parents could come,” he said, nothing out of the ordinary besides the faintest of blushes on his cheekbones. “Therefore, since you have been like a mother figure to him, I asked if it would be all right to bring you to the dinner. I have been given confirmation that it is perfectly acceptable from all parties involved.”

A soft smile graced Nathalie’s face. “Then, I would be honored.”

…

It was a surprise to no one that when Adrien proposed, Marinette said yes. Of course, the two love birds were now in the engaged-to-be-wed bliss of wedding planning and the like, so that meant they weren’t fully careful about the press. Meaning Nathalie had her work cut out with answering the questions and quelling ridiculous rumors and keeping tabs on the tabloids.

She settled back in her chair, allowing her eyes to rest for a mere moment before going back to work.

Of course, it was hard to open her eyes after said ‘mere moment’ so she allowed herself another. Only to be surprised by hands at her shoulders.

“Sorry,” Gabriel said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s fine,” she dismissed. “I meant to get back to this.”

Gabriel hummed, not removing his hands from her shoulder and instead massaging them. “Adrien and Marinette giving you a headache?”

Nathalie sighed, resigning herself to receive a shoulder rub from Gabriel. “No, the press is.”

Again, Gabriel hummed. “I never understood what the appeal of obviously fabricated rumors were.”

“Are you talking about the article saying it’s a shotgun wedding?”

“You do have it up in front of you.”

Nathalie sighed. “I don’t either. There are far more interesting things to cover than this. But for some reason, this sells.”

Gabriel hummed. “Can I interest you in a lunch break?”

“I have work to do.”

“Let me rephrase,” Gabriel said, leaning closer so his lips were close to her ear. “Take a break and have lunch with me.”

Nathalie couldn’t help but smirk. “All right.”

…

Adrien and Marinette’s wedding was quickly approching. The enamored duo decided that they wanted to be married as soon as possible, and so, a three-month engagement it was. They’d done well to breeze through quite a bit, having an organized schedule that Gabriel was certain Nathalie had a hand in.

And speaking of Nathalie and marriage…

Gabriel caught Adrien right before the young man could slip out the door. “Adrien, can I have a quick word with you?”

Adrien stopped. “As long as it’s short,” he said. “I… actually, Marinette and I had planned to look at apartments together today.”

Gabriel had to pause at that. It took a moment for him to absorb that Adrien had grown up. He was getting married and moving out. Where did the time go? What happened to the little boy that used to run around the house?

“It will be short,” Gabriel assured.

With a nod, Adrien followed his father into his office.

“What about?” Adrien asked as Gabriel shut the door.

“Since you have to leave, I cannot beat around the bush,” Gabriel began as he took a seat in his office chair. “If I were to remarry, how would you feel about that?”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Are you thinking of marrying Nathalie?”

Gabriel gave a single nod.

“That’s great!” Adrien said, smile splitting his face. “Why did you think you needed to ask me? Wouldn’t that make you happy?”

“I’ve done a lot of things in this world to make me happy, but that doesn’t necessarily mean others approve of those choices.”

“Yeah, so what?” Adrien asked.

Gabriel paused at Adrien’s quick dismissal. “I simply didn’t want to ruin our relationship again by doing something you wouldn’t approve of,” Gabriel said. “You are my son. I have put you last far too much in my life already.”

It was clear his words surprised Adrien, but Adrien eventually gave him a smile, one that almost hurt because of how much it reminded him of Emilie. “I really appreciate it, father,” Adrien said, approaching the desk and sitting in the chair across from him. “Like, thank you. I… I really like being able to have you back in my life. After mom died… things were rough, but now you’ve changed and I grew up and we’re able to be a family again. I really like it. But, then again, I’m grown up. I’m going to be married soon enough. You don’t have to live your life around me anymore.”

“I know,” Gabriel said. “But I wanted to know your thoughts on the matter. Particularly since we both miss your mother.”

Adrien sighed. “I think that if it were anyone other than Nathalie, I might be forcing myself to be more enthusiastic than I actually felt.”

Gabriel quirked a brow.

“It’s Nathalie,” Adrien said as though that was an explanation. “Nathalie who has basically been here forever. Who put up with you and me and is still here. I know she cares about both of us, and I care a lot about her, and you… I mean, you two have been dating. Obviously, you love her. And so, I’m actually really happy that you… you’re thinking of being happy again, so… yeah. I’m happy for you. If it were anyone else, it would depend, but Nathalie…” Adrien shook his head. “Nathalie is amazing. You don’t have to ask about her.”

Gabriel smiled. An honest-to-goodness smile. “Thank you for that, Adrien. I won’t hold you up any longer. Tell Marinette Nathalie and I said hello, and I wish you two the best of luck on your search.”

“Thank you, father,” Adrien said, standing. “Will do, and I really appreciate it.”

…

Gabriel was plotting something. She knew it. He’d grown secretive and quiet. Most people probably wouldn’t pick it up, but Nathalie did. She didn’t exactly want to bother Adrien at the moment since he was moving out and into his and Marinette’s new apartment. It was just days until their wedding and everything was running smoothly for them.

But she’d corner Adrien at some point and demand just what was going on with his father. Someone had to know what was going on with Gabriel, and that either meant her or Adrien. And since it wasn’t her, Adrien had to know.

…

“Nathalie is getting suspicious,” Adrien told his dad over the phone.

“Trust me, I know.”

“Will you just do it already?”

“Not until after your wedding.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Okay. But do it soon. She cornered me today, and I don’t know if she bought my lie.”

Gabriel groaned. “Thank you, Adrien. I’ll keep that in mind.”

…

The wedding was over, and Gabriel was seeing Nathalie home.

“You look tired,” he commented.

“I wasn’t even the bride, yet it was such a long day,” Nathalie responded. “Making sure everything was in place and went off without a hitch. Adrien and Marinette were clearly happy, which was all I hoped for for them, but the wedding… it was quite a hassle for something that should be so simple. Particularly when the press almost crashed the event.”

Gabriel hummed. “A truly unfortunate event.”

“At least Adrien and Marinette were oblivious to it.”

“Yes. Thankfully.”

A silence slipped between them.

“I’m happy for them, though,” Nathalie said. “Even though the day was stressful.”

“As much as it pains me to admit it, I’m still rattled.”

Nathalie smirked. “That Adrien is old enough to get married?”

Gabriel gave a single nod. “Incredible, the time I missed with my son by playing the villain.”

Nathalie reached over. “You gave that up, though,” she reminded. “You could have ruined any relationship with your son, and instead, you have one with him. Furthermore, he’s proud of you as a father.”

“Shocking,” Gabriel said. “Considering my failures.”

Nathalie patted his knee. “You redeemed yourself, and I know you will continue doing so.”

Gabriel placed a hand over hers. “Thank you, Nathalie. For everything. I certainly don’t deserve it.”

With a smile, she flipped her hand over so she could hold his. “You’re very welcome.”

…

Gabriel shouldn’t be nervous. He ran a fashion empire. He had a grown son who just got married. He had already proposed to a woman before, for heaven’s sake.

And yet, as Gabriel stood staring at a very simple engagement ring, his hands were sweaty and his heart was racing with nerves. It was pathetic.

Even more so when his son called in the middle of his honeymoon just to yell at Gabriel to propose already.

Therefore, so as not to embarrass himself or admit to his son that he had cold feet, Gabriel proposed after dinner.

“Nathalie, will you marry me?”

No fuss; no pomp and circumstance. A simple question that followed up a conversation after dinner had been finished.

Nathalie looked at the simple ring, then at Gabriel, clearly surprised.

Gabriel simply waited for an answer.

“Yes.”

…

“No wedding,” Gabriel clarified for the second time.

Nathalie nodded. “I never particularly cared for them. I’ve been the bridesmaid in a few of them, and that’s enough for me. Furthermore, the press is bound to discover it and then we have another debacle on our hands.”

“True,” Gabriel said. “I have no issue with you not wanting a wedding. I am simply ensuring that it is what you want.”

“I would honestly rather elope,” she assured. “And then we can invite Adrien and Marinette over for dinner and celebrate with them.”

And that was exactly what they did. As Nathalie expected, it was easier than planning a wedding, and the press never caught wind of it. What Nathalie did not expect was just how nervous she would be. She was good at schooling her features, but inside, she felt like she could combust. Her heart was racing; she was sure her cheeks were pink. Her hands were shaky, and her knees were threatening to give out at any moment.

And then when the officiant gave the decree of “you may now kiss the bride,” Nathalie felt like she could pass out. She was married.

Married.

Was this what being in love was like? Was this what every bride felt on her wedding day? It was completely irrational.

Yet, here she was, hardly confident as Gabriel kissed her.

She inwardly chastised herself for being so pathetic. She was not the kind of weak woman who fell into her husband’s arms so easily. But today, she felt like she could.

That night, they did celebrate with a dinner that included Adrien, Marinette, and Marinette’s parents. They were a truly kind couple who Nathalie enjoyed being around, and they were kind enough to prepare a feast for the newlyweds.

And when that was all over, there was one more thing that Nathalie fretted over.

The wedding night.

“Are you all right, my dear?” Gabriel asked, his hands resting on her arms as he pulled her close.

“I’m being irrational,” she dismissed. “That’s all.”

“What about?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Considering you admitted your irrationality, I’m guessing it’s not.”

He had her there. “The wedding night,” she quietly admitted. “Had you told me before that I’d be nervous about it, I would have scoffed. Surely if a woman is to be married, she accepts that she’s ready to lay with her husband.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Nathalie, that is common. If you think I was an exception in my first marriage, you are wrong.”

She sighed. “Still… I’m sorry; I’m being completely irrational.”

Gabriel leaned over to kiss her cheek. “There’s no shame in it, Nathalie. It’s not irrational.”

“If I wasn’t being irrational, I would have let you take my dress off by now,” she muttered.

“The night is young, Nathalie,” Gabriel whispered, his fingers reaching for the zipper on her dress. The way his fingers brushed her spine in the process only caused her to shiver. “Whatever pace we need to take the night at, I will let you set.”

Her smile was genuine, even though she still felt nervous. “I know. I trust you, Gabriel. Which is one of the reasons why my being irrational is so frustrating.”

Gabriel slid his hand into hers. “Nathalie,” he said, “Do you trust me to follow my lead?”

Her heart was positively pounding out of her chest. As nervous as she was, there really was only one way to answer him. “Yes.”

…

How the guardian of the miraculous found him, Gabriel wasn’t sure. Nor was he sure how said man got into the event he was at. It was an exclusive event for the fashion designers who participated in a national fashion show. Needless to say, spying the short, Asian man in the corner of the ballroom was not something Gabriel expected to see at said event.

Gabriel excused himself from Nathalie’s side to approach the man.

“Gabriel,” the guardian greeted with a smile. “I hear that you’ve gotten married recently.”

“I did,” Gabriel curtly replied.

“And,” the short, Asian man continued. “That your relationship with your son has improved drastically, as well.”

Gabriel simply quirked a brow. “How did you get into this event?”

“I have my ways,” the man said with a wink. “But I simply couldn’t help but want to check up on the man formerly known as ‘Hawkmoth.’ He seems to be living life once again.”

“What do you mean?” Gabriel challenged.

The man quirked a knowing brow. “It’s quite a change, don’t you think? From walking down the path to destruction to living redeemed only once you surrendered your greatest vice?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened slightly at it being put so bluntly.

“Do you think?” the man continued. “That you would have a relationship with your son had you continued holding onto the moth miraculous? Or been close enough to him that you would know his wife so well? Or her parents? And what about the former peacock miraculous holder? Would you have been able to marry her had both of you kept clinging to such dangerous vices?”

Gabriel knew the answer to all of that. But admitting it freely was another thing.

However, the man seemed to realize Gabriel’s answer even though he was silent. “Are you proud of your choices, Mr. Agreste? Do you regret surrendering?”

While silent for a moment, Gabriel knew he couldn’t deny the answer. “No,” he admitted. “Not in the slightest.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #GabeNath #romance #Wedding #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng

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tvntae · 6 years ago

Text

heartbreak hotel 1

pairing: reader x ceo!jeon jungkook

plot: was sleeping with your boss really such a great idea?

genre: smut (eventual), angst, fluff

word count: 3.3k

You loved your new job, you really did but the days just seemed to drag on. You were kinda ready for new scenery, a load of fresh faces and just some newer air to breath in general. You wanted, no needed more creative freedom. You felt stuck, and you knew there wasn’t anything you could actually do about it. Unless you go to him. Now “him” was your boss, Jeon Jungkook. You hated asking him for things because he seemed so scary. He was quite sweet, funny and even a little charming. But he intimated the living hell out of you, and you’ve never been able to pinpoint why. Maybe it was because of the look on his face during those redundant teamwork building exercise meetings that were held every 2 months. He seemed to despise them more than anyone else. To you, he was the big bad boss even though around here he was crucial and level-headed.

At least, that’s what you heard about him. Rumors must have been that mans last name because people loved to talk, and when you say to talk you mean gossip. Employees would either be discussing Mr.Jeon’s newest ride or the latest girl he’s screwing. Word got around that he was dating some new model on the scene, not that you really cared or anything, but last night Karen, the older lady who’s cubicle is to the left of yours, just wouldn’t stop yapping on and on about it.

“Did you hear about Jeon’s new girlfriend?” She squealed over the phone, entirely too enthusiastic over something that had absolutely nothing to do with her. You could barely get work done because of your unintentional eavesdropping. Seriously, it’s not like you actually cared or anything about Jungkook’s life it just... you know Karen and her very loud very exaggerated story over the phone with Suzie, that works a floor above you in HR were taking your attention away from all your important work.

That very night you went home you let your curiosity get the best of you, and you decided to do a little bit of researching your self.

Your laptop was filled with tab after tab after tab of articles about Jeon Jungkook. Things about his childhood, his family even his surprisingly healthy lifestyle. You didn’t know much of the guy, other than he was your boss and he was only a few years older than you. Oh, and also those ridiculous fables people made up about him, but other than that you didn’t really know him, know him. No one did, really now that you think about it. He tended to stay in his office most days, and he rarely came to the company parties, not that you were invited to them for you to obtain such knowledge, you just heard it from Soyeon and Erika from the sales department during lunch break a week back. You knew you shouldn’t have been listening to their private conversation but it wasn’t actually your fault, it just so happened that they were talking about that particular thing while you had paused your music to text your mom back.

You looked over at your clock on your computer and saw just how late it was. Almost 3 and a half hours had passed while you were snooping on your bosses life and you hadn’t even eaten yet. You opted out on cooking, even though in that article you just read about Jungkook’s healthy lifestyle said he always cooks his meals, you decided on ordering out instead. You didn’t have the luxury of making home-cooked meals every night and mostly ate out to suffice. With the salary you have, you do a lot more saving and budgeting than big baller spending. It’s hard enough to afford a place in Seoul, imagine how broke you would go if you started buying real groceries. Fast food was convenient, and it takes a lot less time to arrive at your doorstep than if you were to make a meal.

As you placed your order, you started to wonder if Jungkook was the type of guy to like a girl who could cook. With the luxurious and lavish lifestyle he lives, or at least what the way the tabloids paint his way of living, he’d surely be the type of guy to like a woman who enjoyed cooking for her man. You weren’t really that much of a cooker, a baker yes, but cooking wasn’t your forte. You could bake up a mean batch of chocolate brownies, or if you were in the mood you liked to bake apple pies but cooking actual dinner? Uh, that wasn’t a trait you could say you have.

Once your food arrived, you decided it was time to watch the local news. It was always something you did back home. You’d order some food and then flip to the news channel to hear the current events of the world. Old habits never die.

Oddly enough Jungkook and his new girlfriend were being featured. Typically, when the company you worked for was on the news Jungkook name was rarely ever mentioned just for the sake of not drawing attention to his name you’d guess. Nochu was notably known as a great company. Most people didn’t really know that such a young guy was behind such a successful business. Frequently, in cases you’ve seen young CEOs, mostly it’s because it’s a business that was handed down to them from their wealthy fathers and grandfathers. But that wasn’t the case for Jeon Jungkook. No, he started Nochu from the ground up, hustled his ass off even before college just to create a name for himself. You had a lot of respect for the guy. You didn’t see him much, but he was diffidently a diligent man. If you ever have the chance (and the balls), you’d try to conversate more with him. Get to know him as your boss, not really on a personal level but more as colleagues.

If the news was anything to go by tonight, apparently Jungkook and his girlfriend were engaged. When you were doing your research about him a few hours prior there weren’t any mentionings of engagement nor was there any clear pictures of Jungkook with said, fiance. But the news seems to have evident photos of the couple together. And you were utterly blown away by the two. They were stunning together, hell, she was stunning alone. But together they looked so dominant.

“The nations couple” was what everyone was calling them on Twitter. Honestly, you could see why. They’re perfect for each other, and they looked so content. You were sorta jealous, not because you had a crush on your boss or anything. I mean yeah, he is very handsome and the mysterious type. You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t your type. But it’s really the simple fact that you hadn’t been in a relationship for what felt like 15 years. Your last boyfriend was everything you ever needed, or at least that’s what you had thought. Once he got a job offer in another city, he dropped you so quickly and left without another word. So you being you, you ended up on the other side of the planet in Seoul to finish college and start an internship soon after.

Your internship lasted for about 3 years and then you were offered a position at Nochu Corp. You thought you would be working for some old fat guy in his mid to late sixties. So to say you were stunned by Jungkook’s age and his smooth looking face was an understatement. You knew he could tell how flustered you were that day you accidentally ran into him with your high stack of papers. You were so sure he’d fire you on the spot, but he even offered to help you clean them up. He helped you that day, pick up all your papers, and you were so nervous you left without thanking him properly. To this day you’re still pissed that you made such a fool of yourself.

The morning dragged by slower than ever today at work, you were so ready to get out of the building and get home to your warm bed. Your uncomfortable office chair was starting to get old, you figured it’s never been replaced, and it’s been sitting at this particular desk for years. It often makes your back cramp up and spasm, and it indeed is a pain in the ass (like literally, it even hurts your butt to sit too long).

From the corner of your eye, you could see your department manager, Jiwoo come into focus. You start to pray that she doesn’t hand you another task for today and instead hands it off to someone else less fortunate. You could not bear to stay sitting at this desk for any longer.

“Hey, Y/n, how ya been?” Jiwoo asks you, a little too enthusiastically might you add. You could already tell you were a) In trouble or b) she was going to ask for you to complete another task for tonight. And God was you praying it wasn’t the latter.

“I’m doing good Mrs.Choi, how are you today?” You maintained a smile through gritted teeth, trying to stay as positive as can be. Maybe, just maybe it was an audit and nothing too serious today. You had a drama to catch up on today, and you could NOT afford to stay any longer than usual.

“I’m doing just fine, I was wondering,” here we fucking go, you think, “Youngjae called out sick for the week and we don’t have anyone to process the stats from this week and last well I need you to stay, maybe about I don’t know 3 hours after your scheduled time today.” The fucking bitch.

“But I-” you start, but Jiwoo soon cuts you off before you could protest.

“This isn’t a yes or no question Mrs.Y/n, I need coverage and your my only available person tonight. I know I can count on you. I’ll email everything that needs to be printed, copied and signed before I go and leave the papers on my desk, I’ll leave you my keys to open the copy room and, make sure you leave said keys with the papers you deliver. Have a nice night Mrs.Y/n.” And with that Jiwoo hands you her office keys and takes her leave, well not before giving you a hideous tight lip smile.

You truly hated that old hag. Out of all the employees she has in this department she chooses to always pick on you.

Night rolled by a lot faster than the afternoon, and you were finally able to stand up and stretch. Letting out a yell, since no one else was on this floor for the night you start doing the stretching exercises you learned from Youtube. The forward hang stretch would always be your favorite one. Anyways on to more important task, you grab Jiwoo’s keys and head to the elevator, since your department didn’t have a copy room you had to use the one a few floors above.

The empty hallway to the room was dead silent and even a little creepy, you know most people here tended not to stay too late, yourself included. You hated this place sometimes, it was cold, dark and scary at night. And you always felt lonely here when you stayed overnight.

Switching on the copy room lights, you mentally thank God that someone left the computer logged in because, for the life of you, you could never remember any of the passwords.

You logged into your email, quickly, 3 hours after your ass. You were going to print these papers, sign them off and put them in Jiwoo’s stupid office on her big stupid desk. Oh, and along with her dumb stupid office keys.

You were about 3 papers signed in when you heard a voice coming from down the hall. Your first instinct told you it was the custodial crew, so you brushed it off.

“Yes babe, I’ll be home tonight don’t worry about it... Yes... Yes... Wait, I thought I turned those lights off, guess not, but yea see you soon, love you, k bye.”

“Oh. So it was you who has these lights on.” Too focused on signing you didn’t register anyone walking into the copy room. You nervously spin yourself around in your chair and get up to bow, but he motions his hand telling you it wasn’t necessary.

“How are you Y/n?”

“I am doing well sir, how are you tonight?”

“Same. Same. Choi has you working late tonight I see, you don’t normally stay this late.” He says as he squeezes past you to get to the small printer. You smile and nod as your response as he passes you. The room was cramped. There was one huge sectional desk that held all 3 computers, and on one side, a small printer on the other and then the copy machines were right next to the desk. For it to be such a big building, this room had to be the smallest one you’ve ever seen. You turn your chair back around to finish signing your papers, the only sound that was heard throughout the room was Jungkook printing papers and your swiftness with the pen as you signed. You rustle a few papers around, trying your best to not look like such an unorganized slob in front of your boss.

It ended up taking your 2 whole hours to finish printing, copying and signing all 300 something papers. Jungkook had stayed in the copy room the entire time, mostly going through his email and answering texts. Wasn’t like you were snooping or anything, you were just surprised that man could type and text so damn fast.

Jungkook looks at his wrist for the time on his watch. “You take the bus to and from work, correct?” Jungkook turns his chair to his left to face you.

“Uh, yes sir, why?” You ask, bemused that he was asking such a personal question.

“Well, it’s late, and the last bus just ran 5 minutes ago, so I’ll be taking you home unless you have a ride tonight?” He raises his eyebrows. Jungkook knew you were new to the city and didn’t have many friends here let alone family. He only asked to see if you’d lie to him.

“That’s very kind of you sir, but you don’t have to-”

What was it with these people in higher positions cutting you off.

“I wasn’t really asking, it’s late, and I know for a fact you shouldn’t be walking this late, so I’ll be your ride tonight. Clean up, pack your things and I’ll be waiting for you outside of the building in the black Audi.” He starts to grab his things and leave, sending you a sweet smile before exiting the room.

It took you a second to process what just happened. Jungkook barely said 7 words to you when he first came into the room and then all of a sudden he’s offering to take you home? What parallel universe is this? For all he knew you could be a serial killer, hell he could be one. You were his next prey, and you didn’t even have a say in anything because he’s your boss.

Calming down your fast-beating heart, you pack up your papers and make your way to your department to drop everything all off.

The inside of Jungkook’s car smelled terrific. Like pineapples and bananas but also with a hint of mint candy. It was strange but also quite pleasant at the same time. You heard around the office that he likes sweet smelling things. Opting to buy women’s perfume rather than men’s cologne. You had absolutely no problem with that at all. It just showed Jungkook cared a lot about hygiene. Which is why you’d rarely see any blemish or imperfections to his skin.

“You know today was casual Friday, right”? Jungkook ask you while still keeping his eyes on the road.

“Wait, seriously we have those? No one’s ever told me.” To say you were disappointed was an understatement, you loved causal days, and you never even knew they existed there.

You frown at the thought of it.

Jungkook looks over to see the pout gracing your face, cute, he laughs to himself. “Yes, we have them a few times out of each month. There’s a lot we do there that Choi probably won’t tell you. It’s not as boring as you think it is.”

“I don’t think it’s boring.”

“Sure,” he draws out.”I can tell when someone is bored and you, Mrs.Y/n, are most definitely bored.”

You laugh at that, “Maybe you’re right.”

Jungkook turns up the music to the radio and you two ride comfortably together. It felt weird but also right at the same time. You felt cozy and warm with him.

You had dozed off about 10 minutes ago, It was a great thing Jungkook looked at your file for your address because you were in a pretty deep sleep. He honestly did not mind that you lived about 20 minutes away. It wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He could feel his phone blowing up with text after text from Jinah, his fiance. He’d just make up a little white lie and tell her he stayed an extra hour at the office. It wouldn’t kill her if he omitted the truth. He didn’t need her jealous rants, not right now, he was too tired.

You could feel Jungkook’s car coming to a stop. You knew it was time to wake up and in head inside your place when he nudged you awake.

“Hey, we’re here.” He tells you. You slowly lift yourself up, unbuckling your seatbelt and spreading your arms to stretch.

“Thank you so much for this Mr.Jeon, I’m sorry I fell asleep here.” You awkwardly smile.

He waves you off telling you it was indeed no problem.

“Just before you go Y/n I want to ask you something if that’s fine with you.

“It’s fine sir, go ahead.” You turn to face him. Figuring this must be something important.

“You see, I’ve been looking for a personal secretary for a month now and have been having trouble finding one I can trust. I was wondering if you’d like to be mine? You’d be getting paid more, get your own office but the flip side is you’d have to pick up more days. Is that fine with you?”

Woah, was he seriously asking you to be his right-hand woman? “Sir I-I don’t know what to say,” you were rightly left speechless, you had no secretary training, and he knew that, but he was asking you. You hadn’t even been at his company for very long, and he was already giving you a promotion.

“There's no need for formalities. You don’t have to call me sir or Mr.Jeon, Jungkook will do just fine.” He stifled a laugh.

“So do you accept the offer?”

“Yes, of course, of course! When do I start?”

“How’s tomorrow sound?” He asks.

“That sounds absolutely perfect!”

#bts #bts au #bts scenarios #bts drabbles #bts drabble #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts jeon jeongguk #bts jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #bts ceo au #bts jungkook #bangtan #bts reactions #bts x reader angst

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azulmonterrey · 5 years ago

Text

& azul

ALEXA DEMIE / CISFEMALE — don’t look now, but is that azul monterrey i see? the 22 year old business student is in their junior year and she is a huntington alum. i hear they can be confident, adaptable, selfish and fickle, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet she will make a name for themselves living in murphy’s beach homes. ( ani. 27. gmt-3. she/her. )

azul’s mom was a nashville ex child star who’d Made it big at thirteen, putting out a country album that was ridiculous but genius as far as she was concerned. at eighteen, she’d become disgustingly rich, being the face of many brands and whatnot, though she couldn’t quite access her money since she was underage and it was all in a trustfund. her father handled her finances rather questionably and whenever she got nosey about it he’d offer her an expensive car or a fun trip somewhere to get her off his back. during one of these, she met enrique. he was twenty one, gorgeous, and came off as the biggest player she’d ever met. she was In Love right away.

a couple months later, she realized she was pregnant. being a mom wasn’t in her plans, and it was definitely not in her plans to risk ruining her career. things were put in perspective. for a while, she thought maybe seeing the baby would change her mind, but when azul was born she realized she couldn’t possibly care less about it. enrique wasn’t willing to give up his child, so he took azul home as soon as he could. her mom visited her growing up, but those visits became less and less frequent with time, until she started making her appearances only in the shape of a monthly check, and new year’s, which was the one holiday they’d agreed she’d spend with her mother’s family forever. it didn’t matter to azul in the slightest, who was more than happy to live at home with her very warm, tight-knit family, rather than having to put up with a mother who’d never wanted her in the first place.

death tw // when azul turned thirteen, her mom passed away. the details of the situation remain a mystery, but the gossip tabloids claimed that azul’s darling grandfather had been involved in some shady business throughout her entire career, using her money for bad, bad things, and somehow that had got her an untimely death that was ruled out as an accident, but. who knows. azul wasn’t exactly heartbroken, though it was more traumatizing than she could realize at the time. however, she did inherit a lot of money, so the sadness went away quite quickly.

her family was a hardworking one that had always had just about the right amount of money to get by, the monthly payments from her mom having been quite helpful but not as exorbitant as this, so they weren’t sure how to handle the baby of the family being suddenly entitled to this much money. for as long as they could, they kept it from her, trying to manage it so it wouldn’t get to her head, but the thing was, azul was born to be Rich. she knew it in her heart. despite all their efforts, with her being the youngest and motherless from the start, she’d been spoiled rotten, and the last thing she needed was an endless supply of money she’d nothing to earn.

her teenage years were chaotic and as dramatic as she could possibly make them. a big part of her had planned to just get through the necessary time to properly unlock her fortune without doing anything, and then once she had proper access she’d just Be Rich. it took her dad many, many, many long conversations to get her to understand that money didn’t work like that, and if she wanted to keep having money until she died, she was gonna have to work eventually. despite her tendency to want to just get drunk and have a good time, azul is smart, and she knew her dad was always right. as much as she hated the thought of it, college was the right place for her to go to, so she’d actually learn how to make that money last with as little effort as possible.

truth be told though, once she was out of the little safe nest her family had created for her where she could always go back to after creating chaos in school or whatever, things got a little out of hand. the world is full of temptations, and having the responsible voice of her father come only through texts makes it hold less weight, and azul has made many, many bad choices. huntington students have heard of her, either love her or are scared of her, because she’s broken many hearts but has also possibly keyed a few cars, thrown drinks in people’s faces and started very nasty rumors about anyone who’s crossed her. she’s a force of nature, and she is very proud of it.

tl;dr,, she’s a bit trashy, knows how to have a good time, is trying to keep the good head her dad put on her shoulders as balanced as she can but keeps failing at it. outgoing and messy, will always pretend she’s unable to catch feelings because she’s had her heart broken enough times already. catholic school taught her to feel guilt over most things she does, but it has most certainly not stopped her from doing them. bisexual as hell, leaning more towards girls as of late because boys are trash. the kind to have a girl gang where she’s slept with all of them and their boyfriends, too. has absolutely no interest in what she’s studying, never stopped in her life to think if there is anything she would actually want for her life besides Spending Her Money. hotheaded, loud, very guarded with her actual Important feelings.

#death tw #huntingtonintro #gonna post wcs for all my kids later jst in one big post... i swear

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searchingwardrobes · 6 years ago

Text

Natural Opposite 8/16

* Before writing this fic, I did some -not a ton, but some - research on Dancing With the Stars. Every source I looked at said that the pro dancers on the show are forbidden in their contracts from getting romantically involved with their partners. That's why relationships are only ever "rumored" until after the season is over. While many hook ups have happened - even marriages - nothing is ever official while filming is happening. That doesn't stop the hosts from asking questions, of course, but the dancers and celebs are usually coy about it. Until this season!!! I don't know how many of you watch DWTS, but Alexis Ren told her partner Alan that she was developing feelings for him - on camera. The following week, Alan told her he had feelings for her to, and kissed her! On camera! Believe me, this has NEVER happened before! Derek Hough even got in trouble ages ago when compromising paparazzi pictures came out of him and his partner. I based my fic on what I knew of the show in the past as a fan and through my research. So thanks a lot DWTS for making me seem like I don't know what I'm talking about!

* Once again, many thanks to my artist @optomisticgirl. There isn't chapter art this week, but some AMAZING stuff is coming that I can't wait for ya'll to see!

* And my beta, @distant-rose, was incredible. Her insights on Henry's character especially influenced this chapter. So thanks, Ro!

Also on Ao3

Tagging @bethacaciakay @teamhook @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @followbatb @onceuponaprincessworld @hollyethecurious @ohmakemeahercules

Chapter Eight: See the Light

Emma snuggled into the corner of the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. A box of pizza lay open on the coffee table. She honestly couldn’t believe she agreed to this. The rules on how much time partners on the show could spend together was hazy. Romantic relationships were expressly forbidden in everyone’s contracts. However, there were no strict guidelines to prevent them. And honestly, since rumors of romance helped ratings, the producers typically looked the other way.

So the fact that Killian Jones was currently sitting on her living room floor playing video games with her son wasn’t a shock because of contractual agreements. No, it was a shock because Emma Swan didn’t do things like this. She didn’t invite men over to hang out and eat pizza with her and Henry. She enjoyed hanging out with her fellow pros on set, but that was as deep as things ever went. One night stands were also common in Emma’s social life, but she had strict rules for those. It was never anyone she knew (even a first name was more than she needed or asked for), and she never brought them home. Most of her one night stands happened on tour while Henry was spending the summer with Ingrid; a way to release pent up frustrations with her social life.

Killian groaned as he dropped the video game controller in his lap, and Henry fist pumped in victory.

“Hey,” Killian protested, gesturing at the screen, “in my defense, it’s been awhile since I played one of these. They’ve gotten way more complicated. Am I right, Swan?”

Emma shrugged when he turned to her for back up. “I don’t know, or maybe you’ve never had game.”

“Oooh, good one mom!” Henry laughed.

“Ouch,” Killian said, pretending to grimace with genuine hurt, “how quickly my partner turns on me!”

“That’s because I’m her kid, right Mom?” Henry replied with a grin.

Emma smiled back. “True. And because you’re my kid, I also have to tell you it’s bedtime.”

“Aw, Mom!” Henry groaned. “I thought we were gonna watch some Star Wars.”

Killian slapped his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Maybe next time, lad.”

His words caused Emma’s throat to constrict, and she felt a sudden, familiar urge to flee. Killian had talked her into doing this because he said they had to celebrate their great scores. She never expected him to bond with Henry or expect a “next time.”

Henry, however, had no such qualms. “Sweet,” he said, giving Killian a fist pump. Then he brushed a kiss to Emma’s cheek and whispered in her ear, “Thank you, Mom! The kids at school are gonna die!”

Once Henry’s door shut behind him, a slight awkwardness descended on the room. Killian glanced her way, ducking his head when she turned her gaze intently into her mug of cocoa. She took a sip as he grabbed some of the pizza boxes and took them to the fridge.

“I wonder why Elsa’s not home yet,” she muttered. The words fell flat. Why should he care where her roommate was?

“You want these boxes taking up your fridge, or should I get some aluminum foil or something?” Killian asked, pausing in front of the open refrigerator.

Emma waved her hand. “Oh, just shove the boxes in. Henry will scarf the rest down in no time.”

Killian nodded and did as she asked. Then he shuffled awkwardly in the middle of her kitchen. “He’s a good kid, Henry.”

Emma smiled wistfully. “The best.”

Killian eyed her a bit warily as he came closer and eased down next to her on the couch. He was treating her as if she were a skittish animal who might bite him. She rolled her eyes. This was ridiculous! They were in each other’s personal space constantly rehearsing and dancing. Why was it awkward now? Emma shifted away from the corner of the couch and offered Killian half her blanket. He shook his head that he was fine, but the gesture had its intended effect. He relaxed and settled back against the couch, flinging his arm across the back of it, his hand resting just behind her shoulder.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

Emma hesitated, biting her lip.

“I think I’ve earned it, don’t you?” he asked her softly.

She set her mug down on the coffee table. “I thought my life was an open book. With everything reality TV has dug up.”

Killian nodded. “Aye, but you managed to keep some things private.”

Emma held her breath, clutching the blanket in her fists. Henry’s dad. That was the only thing he could be referring to.

“Why is your name Swan and David’s isn’t?”

Emma let out a long, relieved breath. If Killian picked up on her emotional reaction, he didn’t let on. “That’s simple, really. He’s an optimist. I’m not.”

Killian tilted his head. “Meaning?”

“He still clings to the hope that our parents had a good reason for doing what they did. I just can’t. Who leaves their babies on the side of the highway? We could have been killed!” Emma toyed with a frayed edge of the blanket. “Our names were stitched into our baby blankets. We both still have them, actually. David thinks it’s a sign,that they loved us.” Emma shrugged.

Killian nodded thoughtfully. “Has he tried to find them? I mean, I’m guessing it’s possible if you know their last name was Nolan.”

“Yeah,” Emma answered as she picked up her mug again, “social workers found records at a local hospital of twins named David and Emma Nolan being born a week before we were found. To a Ruth and Robert Nolan. But they must have changed their names or something, because after that, they completely fell off the grid.”

“So they don’t want to be found.”

“Exactly.” Emma agreed, sitting up and clutching her mug tighter. “I’ve tried to tell him a million times to drop it, but . . . every once and awhile, he starts digging again. Ingrid’s the one who loved us and accepted us. She’s the one who gave us a home.”

Emma stared off in the distance, thinking back to the dance class she and David took at the Boy’s and Girl’s club. They were eleven years old and in a group home. Ingrid volunteered her time teaching the dance lessons. Emma always loved how patient she was, so calm. Her gentle smile when she told Emma that she had raw talent was like someone offering a cup of water in a desert.

“I hated how people judged Ingrid,” Emma said aloud. “They tried to make it seem like she only cared about grooming David and I for stardom. Elsa too. But it wasn’t like that. She wasn’t some crazy stage mom. We all just love to dance.”

“What about your other sister, Anna?”

Emma chuckled. “I’m surprised you even know about her.” Emma cut her eyes to look at Killian. “Did you cyber stalk me?”

He shrugged and gave her that disarming smile of his. “I had to learn a little bit about my partner. And actually, I have a confession.” He took a deep breath, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I was a fan. When you were on So You Think You Can Dance. When I said I was hoping it would be you, I meant it.”

Emma blinked, her throat suddenly going dry. “You . . . were a fan?” she finally squeaked.

Killian raised his hands quickly. “I’m not saying I had some celebrity crush.”

Emma exhaled loudly and they both laughed. “Good, I was starting to worry you were a stalker.”

“No, I always liked that show. The performances are so incredible.”

Emma’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Thank you. But you said before you never watched Dancing with the Stars. So why do it?”

“I know Regina told you. This is Neverland’s final season. Do you know how many TV stars have one hit show and little to no career afterwards?”

Emma abandoned her mug for good and leaned against the back of the couch, shifting to face him, “A lot, now that I think about it.”

“Exactly. And a lot of times it’s because people see them only as that character they played. Captain Hook is a larger-than-life role. I wanted people to see that there’s more to me.” Killian shrugged. “And I know the tabloid stories haven’t helped. I won’t lie – I got caught up in the sudden fame at first. Partying almost every night, keeping my romantic entanglements . . . casual.” He blushed as he glanced her way. “So you were right about me, Emma. But Rose and other friends helped snap me out of it. And I’ve left that all behind. I’m trying to be a better man.”

Emma tapped the arm of the couch. “You don’t have to defend your past to me. I get it.”

Killian seemed to visibly relax at that. “Good. So . . . your other sister?”

Emma nodded. “Anna. Well, poor thing was the clutz of the family. Tried dance classes when she was little, but it just wasn’t her cup of tea. Anyone who claims Ingrid was just adopting kids with dance talent should see her with Anna. She’s the reason Ingrid moved out to Colorado.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Anna and her husband Kristoff run a ski lodge out there. They’ve got four rambunctious boys who are seven, five, three, and eight months.”

Killian whistled, his eyebrows raising to his hairline. “She’s got her hands full!”

“Which is exactly why Ingrid’s out there. She needed the help desperately.”

Silence fell between them, but not an awkward one. Emma rose and took her mug to the sink, pouring the last bit of hot chocolate down the drain. Once she’d rinsed it and set it in the dishwasher, she turned to find Killian up and collecting his jacket.

“I should probably get home,” he told her, “we have to start a whole new dance first thing in the morning, right?”

“Right,” Emma agreed with a nod and followed him to the door. She was genuinely surprised that he hadn’t pried about Henry’s dad. It also made her like him a bit more. As a friend, anyway.

He opened the door, then turned to her with a light in his eyes and mischief in his smile. “It was a lovely evening, Swan,” he told her, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips. His eyes never left hers as they lingered there for half a beat.

Emma scowled and snatched her hand away. “Why do you have to go and do that?”

Killian’s eyes widened. “Do what?”

“Get flirty like that. We were talking, and having a nice evening, and then you have to go and ruin it.”

Killian arched a brow at her. “And how did I ruin it, exactly? I merely thanked you for the nice time we spent together.”

“This wasn’t a date,” Emma hissed through her teeth.

He sauntered closer to her, leaning down to whisper in her ear, his breath fanning hot across her cheek. “And yet, you’re the one who brought up the subject. You sure it didn’t feel like a date?” Killian pulled back, grinning at her scandalously, his tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth. “Or were you waiting for a goodnight kiss?”

“You’re full of it Killian Jones,” she snapped, giving him a firm push out the door. “I’m not so sure you’ve changed at all.” Then she slammed the door in his handsome, cocky face.

Emma jumped when she turned to find Henry standing in the hallway behind her.

“Why were you so mean to him?” Henry accused. “I like him!”

Emma sagged against the door, rubbing her forehead wearily. “He’s an actor, Henry. You can’t trust him.”

Henry stood there, regarding her silently for a moment. “I think he likes you, Mom. And not every guy is like my dad. Not every guy’s gonna leave you.”

Henry didn’t wait for her to respond. He just turned and went back to his room, shutting the door gently behind him. Emma turned and pressed her forehead to the door with a groan. She couldn’t figure out Killian Jones. There were times he was full of swagger, then other times he was sweet and even a bit nerdy. Sometimes he seemed he wanted to be her friend, then other times it felt he wanted more. Then there were times he flirted outrageously and it seemed all he wanted was to get in her pants.

Emma pushed away from the door, resolute. It didn’t matter. They had a show to win. And after that, they would go their separate ways. She loved Henry, but he was too young to understand what men like Killian Jones were really like.

************************************************************

Emma dashed up and down the corridors backstage, swearing under her breath. This was the last thing she needed right now – a missing partner. She was already having to deal with a thick blonde Rapunzel wig that weighed a ton and a gimmick for their routine which hadn’t worked at all in dress rehearsals.

It was Disney week, and Killian had been both relieved and excited when they had been assigned a waltz to “I See the Light” from Tangled.

“I was worried they would make me Captain Hook – the cartoon version,” he had told her honestly.

“What?” she had teased. “Waxed mustaches and perms aren’t your thing?”

Despite the door slam to his face at her apartment, Killian had gone right back to their usual friendly, sometimes snarky banter. The only stress, honestly, this past week was the pressure they felt to deliver another high scoring routine. It may have been why Emma decided to open their number with Emma in a tower. Literally. It involved wires and the two of them actually rappelling down the side of a fake tower. Seriously. What had she been thinking?

And now it was only ten minutes till show time, and Killian had disappeared. Suddenly, Belle crashed right into Emma. She wore a blue dress identical to the one her namesake wore in the opening scene of Beauty and the Beast. She and Jefferson were doing a quickstep to “Bonjour,” with Jefferson as Gaston. They really had cast everyone perfectly, including Killian, who made an excellent Flynn Ryder.

But suddenly, Emma realized that Belle was trembling and crying. “Belle? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I – I didn’t mean to cause any trouble . . . I was looking for Jefferson . . . “

Emma hurried past Belle when she saw Killian behind the brunette, shoving Robert Gold into a wall. Killian held the other man, who was dressed like Facilier from The Princess and the Frog, by the front of his shirt.

“Killian!” Emma called out. “What the hell?”

The snarl that had marred Killian’s face melted when he saw Emma. Belle ran past her then with Jefferson at her heels. She ran forward and pulled gently on Killian’s arm. He allowed her to pry him free of Gold.

“He’s not worth it, Killian, please,” Belle spoke to him gently, “you’ll only get yourself in trouble.”

Killian deflated and nodded, giving Belle a tremulous smile. Then he turned to Gold and got right in the man’s face.

“I’m honoring the ladies’ wishes. A quality of a gentleman that I suggest you learn.”

Killian turned away, jaw clenching even as Gold laughed sarcastically. Jefferson shoved the older man in the shoulder and told him to shut the hell up before escorting Belle towards the dance floor. As she and Killian fell in step behind them, she elbowed him in the ribs.

“So, you, uh . . . want to explain what that was all about?”

Killian rubbed his jaw and continued scowling. “It just angers me when a man won’t take no for an answer.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “If Mr. Gold has hurt Belle, the producers won’t stand for it. I mean she needs to –“

“No,” Killian assured her quickly, “it isn’t that. He just keeps pestering her to go out with him. She tried to be nice at first, but it’s gotten to where he just won’t leave her alone. I caught him taking her by the arm just now, and when she tried to pull away . . . “

Emma squeezed his bicep, as they neared the wings. The introduction was already playing, and they had to make their appearance in less than five minutes. “Hey, I get it. The man’s a jerk, but you’ve got to calm down. Think of it as acting. Okay, Flynn Ryder?”

Killian grinned down at her, slipping easily into character, his hair falling rakishly over his eyes. “Are you ready for the smolder?” he teased.

Emma rolled her eyes, but was secretly relieved to have such an utter professional as a partner. They came out on stage doing the little bit they had practiced. A stagehand gave Emma her prop: a frying pan, and she made a big show of threatening Killian with it while he waggled his eyebrows charmingly. The rest of the cast was announced to roaring applause. Disney week was always popular.

Luckily, their dance came early in the show. Emma wanted to get their risky stunt out of the way so they could enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Killian came to the tower and made a show of calling up for “Rapunzel” to let down her hair, then grasped onto the vines snaking around it to climb up to her. They embraced at the window, then repelled down the tower together on the system of wires. Once at the bottom, they unsnapped the harnesses and started the waltz.

Once the opening stunt was out of the way, Emma fully enjoyed their waltz. It had been the easiest dance style for Killian to pick up, having done it on episodes of Neverland. Emma felt like a true Disney princess in her lavender gown, and the lanterns dangling from the ceiling washed the entire dance floor in a romantic glow.

“All at once, everything is different,” sang the studio band as Killian sank to one knee. Emma sat on the knee he offered, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her forehead to his. “Now that I see you,” the singers crooned the final line of the song.

Emma cheered, shaking Killian’s shoulders excitedly, knowing it was the best they had danced it. The studio audience agreed, cheering and surging to their feet. The cheers soon turned to boos, however, when Blue complained about the elaborate opening, telling them they should just stick to the waltz. Tiana and Teach weren’t all that thrilled with the stunt either, and in the end, they got two 8s and one 9 (from Tiana, of course). Emma was more frustrated this time than Killian, and as soon as they suffered through a short interview with Ashley, she stalked backstage in irritation.

Killian found her leaning against a wall backstage, her arms crossed tight around her. She knew the cameras couldn’t be far behind. It didn’t stop Killian from putting his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“I think we killed it,” he told her.

Emma sighed and rolled her eyes.

“You know I can actually feel it when you roll your eyes at me?”

That managed to get a chuckle out of her. He eased her around to face him, gently lifting her chin so their eyes met.

“I just feel like I cost us a better score with my stupid tower idea,” Emma said, gesturing with her arms in irritation.

Killian shrugged. “The scores were still pretty good.”

“But we’re favorites now! The judges are going to keep nitpicking us, and I let the pressure get to me this week.”

He pulled her into a hug, and even though she knew this would probably end up in the recap footage next week, she let him.

************************************************************

The studio audience and the celebrities were shocked when it was announced that no one would be going home this week. The pros, on the other hand, pretended to be shocked. There was always a “non-elimination” week, and nine times out of ten, it was Disney week. Killian turned to her with a grin and a hug once the taping was over, but Emma was less enthusiastic.

“That means there will be a double elimination next week, so don’t get cocky, Jones.”

Liam came out on the dance floor to join them, giving them both hearty hugs. “Great job, little brother!”

Killian opened his mouth as if to correct him, then seemed to decide it wasn’t worth his breath. “Thanks,” he said instead.

Liam’s eyes suddenly lit up as he glanced over Killian’s shoulder. “Belle! Lovely to see you again! You were perfectly cast, of course.”

“Thank you,” Belle replied, grasping her skirt and making a little exaggerated bow. “With my name and a vlog called Beauty and Brains I was sort of asking for it.”

“Have you two watched Belle’s youtube channel?” Liam asked Emma and Killian. “It’s incredible! She gives young women fashion and makeup tips but also recommends classic literature for them to read.”

Killian glanced at Emma, his eyes alight as he quirked a brow. “And my brother is watching a fashion vlog . . . why? Need eyeliner tips, Liam?”

Liam turned a bright shade of red and started gaping like a fish. Belle, meanwhile, smiled up at him beneath her batting lashes. “I think it’s sweet,” was all she said as she took his hand and gave it a squeeze. Jefferson called for her then, and she dashed off, leaving a bewildered Liam behind.

“Liam,” Emma said, clearing her throat, “I thought you’d be heading back home by now.”

“Umm . . . I’ve . . . decided to stay a bit longer,” he murmured distractedly, his eyes still fixed on Belle’s retreating form.

Killian gave his brother a little shove. “Then go talk to her, you git.”

Emma and Killian both laughed as he nervously approached the petite brunette. Emma turned her head from studying the elder Jones brother to study the younger one. His face was relaxed, his eyes filled with delight as he watched his brother smile and laugh with Belle. As if he felt her eyes on him, Killian turned to her suddenly. She blushed and glanced quickly away.

“It was the smolder again, wasn’t it?” he teased. “I really can’t control it, you know.”

Emma rolled her eyes and punched him lightly in the gut. “And what I wouldn’t give for a frying pan right now,” she quipped.

#2018 csbb #csbb #2018 csbb fic #dancing with the stars au #enemies to friends to lovers #captain swan #captain swan ff #natural opposite #searching wardrobes

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ohmytheon · 7 years ago

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Alright, fuck me up. 46 and 54 Kacchako

This was so funny to write. lmao 46. “Blind Date” + 54. “Secret Relationship”

The idea of going on a blind date sounded terrible to Uraraka for a lot of reasons. One) it involved her spending at least an hour with a complete stranger; two) she could clam up and not know what to say or, even worse, blabber because she was nervous; and three) she was kind of already in a relationship. That probably should’ve been the first reason, but she wouldn’t be in this stupid position if Bakugou hadn’t been so persnickety about keeping things between them private, so she was bumping it down to three out of stubbornness.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of her or anything. On the contrary, Uraraka had never known that someone could be so smug about who they were dating. Sometimes, his pride in her made her blush all the way to her roots. He certainly didn’t mind being physical with her. He seemed to struggle with keeping his hands to himself; he kind of always had once they’d become more or less friends, like he was pulled towards her. Once they were in the privacy of their own apartments, he was all hands and the two of them ended tangled up even innocently.

Admittedly, most of their relationship was behind closed doors, but that was only because he didn’t like public displays of affection at all. He wasn’t into all that cutesy stuff that Uraraka had always pictured her relationships would be like. Not that it disappointed her or anything. She found it kind of funny that she’d ended up here with him.

It didn’t help that they were pro heroes and that meant gossip. With fame came scrutiny. The hero tabloids were filled to the brim with rumors, especially about new up-and-coming heroes. She could still remember when she’d been in school and Kumai Wood and Mount Lady had started dating. So many teenagers had been both ecstatic and devastated. They had tried to keep it under wraps, but it was almost impossible to do.

Now it was Ground Zero and Uravity trying to do the same. The last time they’d gone on a date, she had worn a blonde wig, hat, and sunglasses. It had looked appropriate since they’d been eating lunch on a restaurant’s patio, but she had still felt a little absurd. Sometimes, putting on costumes and pretending to be someone else was fun. They made a game out of it. One of these days though, she wanted to go on a date as just Ochako and Katsuki without the threat of paparazzi getting all in their business.

(The last person to pop up on Bakugou to shove a mic in his face and ask about his dating life had quit the hero gossip business right after.)

She figured that the only reason they’d managed to keep their relationship a secret so far was because they hadn’t even told their friends about their relationship. She did feel guilty about not telling Tsu, Deku, and Iida. Maybe not telling Deku made her feel the worst. He and Bakugou were on much better terms these days and had even worked together on multiple missions and villain fights, but they would never be close friends, not after everything. She wondered if Bakugou felt bad about not telling Kirishima or the others.

Of course, since they didn’t know, that left them believing that she had been woefully single for two years and they couldn’t have that.

Her last relationship had been with another sidekick from a different hero agency. She’d met him while on the job, of course. It had lasted approximately eight months before she had moved up from sidekick status and he had not. Apparently, the moment that she’d started to rank higher than him, he hadn’t liked it. He had thought that she would one day work under him.

After that relationship had ended sourly, she had decided to focus solely on her job, throwing herself into her work with a kind of intensity and viciousness that eventually caught Bakugou’s eye. She had worked with him a few times as well, but not very often. Somehow or another though, their lives became entangled again, at first only on the professional level and then something more. It was the kind of secret whirlwind romance filled with danger and passion that she’d read about in romance novels growing up, minus the flowery compliments and ridiculous swooning.

As much as she was starting to want to be more open about their relationship, she was happy with Bakugou and she wasn’t interested in dating anyone else.

Which was why Uraraka was sitting at a table drinking a glass of red wine before her blind date even arrived. She didn’t want to be here. Maybe she could get a little buzzed to take off the edge. She’d be polite, nice, friendly, and then apologize for wasting their time.

Mina had been very specific about her not running off in the very beginning, as if she’d been able to read Uraraka’s mind. “You might not think he’s your type at first, but trust me, I know what I’m doing. The sparks will fly!” Uraraka highly doubted that, seeing as how she was already in a relationship where sparks were doing more than just flying – they were exploding – but she couldn’t say that.

After months of pestering Uraraka about needing to go out on dates and get herself out there, she had caved and let Mina set her up on a blind date. She probably should’ve told Bakugou beforehand, but he’d make such a big deal out of it and might even get pissy with Mina, who was only trying to be a good friend. The potential damage for his ego was too high if she told him beforehand. Besides, this wasn’t an actual date, seeing as how she had absolutely zero interest in dating someone else. It’d be like a blind friendly outing. She’d tell him about it after, he’d get grumpy, and then she’d make it up to him. No harm, no foul.

“I believe this is the table you’re looking for, sir.”

Uraraka almost jumped in her seat. She’d taken the one facing the door so she could keep an eye on whoever was walking into the restaurant, but had gotten distracted by the menu. She was hungry and, now that she was a pro hero, she didn’t have to worry about money nearly as much. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed the host bringing over her blind date.

Putting on a fake smile, Uraraka dropped the menu on the table and started, “Oh, sorry–”

Only to have the words snatched right out of her mouth because it was Bakugou sitting in front of her. He looked equally shocked. “What the fuck are you doing here, Uraraka?”

“What are you doing here?” Uraraka demanded. If the guy Mina was trying to set her up with saw Bakugou sitting at the table with her, there was no doubt he’d call Mina to complain. Then Uraraka and Bakugou’s relationship would get found out because, as much as she loved the other girl, Mina could not keep a secret for the life of her. “I thought you didn’t want to be seen in public together!”

“I asked first,” Bakugou shot back, completely ignoring her last statement.

Uraraka folded her hands on top of the table. “You know how Mina has been pestering me about going on a blind date for months? I agreed to get her off my back.” She saw something heated flash in Bakugou’s red eyes like a warning sign and continued before he could erupt. “Nothing was going to happen! I was going to politely tell the guy after it was done that I wasn’t interested.”

“After?” Bakugou watched her with calculating eyes. “Why not before?”

“Because I thought I could get something to eat and I know how much you like yakitori,” Uraraka told him honestly. It sounded kind of messed up now that she thought about it, but she’d figured that she could take the leftovers to Bakugou afterwards. It wasn’t like she’d planned on letting the guy pay for her. That would have been extra weird. “Okay now seriously, what are you doing here? Did you follow me or something? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want you to get upset.”

Instead of growling furiously or stomping off or glaring at her, Bakugou did something else entirely that she had not expected at all: he barked out a laugh. She blinked at him in surprise, not sure what to make of it and at a loss of words. When he was done, he propped an elbow on the table and dropped his face in his hand, hiding his eyes. He laughed under his breath to himself a few more times and then lifted his head to look up at her.

“I did the same thing,” Bakugou told her.

Uraraka furrowed her brow. “Huh?”

Sighing to himself, Bakugou leaned back in his seat. “Kirishima always goes on and on about how happy he and Ashido are now that they’re together – how I’m missing out on a big part of my life by not dating. He’s been hounding me about it for months. It was driving me crazy. He was convinced that he had my ‘dream girl’ just waiting to be noticed.” He scoffed and shook his head. “I told him I’d go on the stupid blind date, but figured I’d let the girl down right away, snag some to-go food, and go over to your place.”

At first, Uraraka was too dumbfounded to think, much less say anything. And then it hit her. What had happened. Their well-meaning friends, in hopes that they could help Uraraka and Bakugou find the same happiness that they did, had set them up on a blind date…with each other. The guy that she had been waiting for was Bakugou. He was her blind date tonight and she was his. Somehow, Mina and Kirishima had decided that they would work well together without even realizing that they were already together.

It was so ridiculous that Uraraka began to laugh and she had to put a hand over her mouth to keep herself from getting too loud. It wasn’t enough to keep people from looking over at them and giving them weird looks, but she didn’t care and neither did Bakugou. He was too busy smirking. This was so dumb. The first time they were sitting in a restaurant together as themselves and it wasn’t even their doing. It had been a complete and utter accident.

When Uraraka finally calmed down, she let out a breath and looked at him. “I suppose you’ll want to get out of here quickly so we don’t cause any more of a scene.” Everyone around them was back to eating their meals again, paying them no attention. “I don’t think anyone has recognized us as Uravity and Ground Zero yet.” She grinned at him. “Must be that nice outfit. You don’t dress that nice for me.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes and then leaned over to snatch her glass of red wine so that he could take a swig from it. He bobbed his head as he decided if it was good or not and then set it back down in front of her as he lifted up his other hand. Their waiter appeared seconds later and Bakugou asked, “Can we get a bottle of what she’s drinking?”

“Of course, sir,” the waiter replied before hurrying away.

Uraraka’s eyes widened. “Katsuki…”

Shrugging his shoulders, Bakugou casually said, “It seems like a shame to waste Kirishima’s and Ashido’s hard work.” He smirked again. “How about it, Ochako? Want to be my date for the night?”

“Let me see how I feel after I finish this glass,” Uraraka replied cheekily as she raised the wine glass to her upturned lips and took a sip, her eyes never once leaving his. Well, they’d both planned on ending the night eating dinner with one another. It made sense to just do that here now. She was really going to have to thank Mina after this.

#ochako uraraka #katsuki bakugou #kacchako #bnha #mha #bakuraka #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #anime #bakugou x uraraka #katsuki x ochako #kacchako fanfic #bnha fanfiction #the things of songs

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5hfanfiction · 7 years ago

Text

Camp Hansen (Chapter 10)

“Lauren, wait up!”

The older girl stopped and waited for Camila to catch up before turning back around. “We’re heading to the creek, but we’ll take a different way. It takes longer, but it’ll keep them from following us.”

“Okay,” Camila said, but her eyes darted from tree to tree. “You know what you’re doing, right? Because I kind of don’t want to get lost in this forest. And I don’t think you want it either. Just think about the theories our fans will have when it becomes known that you and I have gotten lost in the woods. Together. They’d probably say we ran away and eloped and they’re gonna write hundreds of fanfics about it or something and we’ll be stuck here until we die while they trend something about Camren.”

“Ha, ha,” the green-eyed girl said dryly and trudged forward. “Don’t worry, I have it all planned out. It’s pure logic. If we keep going straight ahead and then take a sharp right, we’re going to find the creek with no trouble at all.”

“Except that creeks don’t flow in a straight line. Or that it’s nearly impossible to walk a straight line on your own.”

Almost unnoticeable, Lauren paused. “I knew that. Nevertheless, we’ll find it. One way or the other.”

The unconvincing answer didn’t assure Camila in the slightest. She glanced over her shoulder, only to be met with more trees and bushes. They were already too far away to see or hear the others. They were completely alone. She crossed her arms and looked back to Lauren who kept marching forward, unbothered by the possible danger they could find themselves in.

“One way or the other…” Camila scoffed quietly. “Lauren, you know I love you, but sometimes you do rash things without thinking them through. We’re in the middle of an unknown forest with no paths or maps or even a GPS signal or a compass to help us. If we get lost, our only chance for survival is screaming for help and hoping that the girls will somehow find us without getting lost themselves. We can’t just aimlessly walk around and hope for the best. Or do you want to ask a squirrel for directions? Or a bear?”

Stopping suddenly, Lauren swiftly turned around. The glare that she gave the younger girl was bone-chilling. “I didn’t ask you to follow me and I certainly didn’t force you either. If you’re that scared about getting lost in the woods or getting eaten by a bear, how about you turn around and leave me the fuck alone?!”

Not intimidated in the slightest, Camila crossed her arms and evenly met the furious eyes of her once best friend. “I’m sorry for worrying about our lives. I’ll try to be as reckless as you from now on.”

“You are so full of yourself, it’s astounding! Have you ever worried about anyone else in your life? Because I kinda see a pattern here.”

Confused, Camila furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about? I worry for the both of us. We have no idea what kind of animals live in these woods –”

“This is not about some stupid animals!”

“It’s…” Camila blinked. “it’s not?”

“Fucking hell,” Lauren cursed, “I can’t believe you! You can’t be that daft, Camila! I’m talking about you constantly brushing off the concerns of others because they don’t seem important to you until it’s suddenly about yourself!”

“If this is about Camren –”

“OF COURSE THIS IS ABOUT FUCKING CAMREN!” The younger girl winced at the volume. Above them dozens of birds fled from the treetops, screeching in fear. Lauren glared at them and grudgingly lowered her voice a few notches. “When have you ever tried to see it from my point of view?! ‘It’s what fans do, Lauren. Don’t be so mean to them, Lauren. They don’t do it to hurt you, Lauren. It’s just all in good fun, Lauren.’ But they do hurt me and it’s not fun for me, Camila! Don’t my feelings matter at all in this? If I tell you that I can’t go on like this – that I can’t live with them sexualizing our friendship, with them harassing people I love – shouldn’t my opinion matter too? Shouldn’t my feelings be considered too?!”

Wide-eyed, Camila took a step back. “Of… of course… but –”

“Even my friends –“ Lauren pointed towards the way they came from, her arm shaking with rage. “Even my friends are now questioning me – are talking about all of these ridiculous rumors…are believing them. My own family asked me if they were true.”

“Lauren…”

“You could have helped me to put a stop to all of this, but you never did. You kept protecting those lunatics that harassed me time and time again –”

“They don’t do it to be mean –”

“See?!” Lauren pointed at her. “You turn the other way. It didn’t matter to you how many times I begged you to deny it. And you know how they take your silence –”

“That’s not fair,” Camila firmly interrupted her. “You can’t just stand there and accuse me of being selfish. You used to loveCamren, Lauren. You were the one who hashtagged all of our pictures with it. You were the one who encouraged our fans to ship us. You were the one who started this whole… this whole flirtatious friendship of ours in the first place. You can’t blame me just because I don’t want to make our fans unhappy over something as trivial as a fictional ship.”

Lauren scoffed. “First of all, we never had a… flirtatious friendship –”

“I beg to differ.” Camila rolled her eyes. “We were always flirting in public with each other and you know it. You heard Dinah and Normani. They didn’t talk about Camren because of those rumors. Theynoticed that our friendship is not strictly platonic – or at least that it hasn’t always been platonic.”

“I’m not –”

“Gay?” Camila finished Lauren’s sentence. She sighed in exhaustion and shook her head. “You really need to stop saying that. It’s just me, Lauren. Look around, we’re alone. It’s just… me.” She glanced back up to the green eyes of her friend. “We used to tell each other everything. I was there through it all. We might not be as close to each other as we used to, but… you’re still one of the most important people to me. I still love you. You know that.”

“You know nothing.” It was supposed to sound angry, even intimidating – but it only came out as a broken whisper. “You hear me? You know nothing, Camila. Nothing. Drop it.”

They fell silent for a while. The unspoken words hung in the air around them. When Lauren finally broke the intense eye-contact, Camila deflated, but her eyes shone with determination as she took in the vulnerable girl in front of her. After a few seconds she nodded to herself, obviously having made a decision.

“I don’t like boys.”

Lauren’s head spun around so quickly that her neck made an audible crack, but the green-eyed girl didn’t seem to notice. Stunned, she stared at the younger girl as if she was seeing her for the first time. “What?!”

Camila helplessly shrugged and her cheeks turned into a pale shade of red. “I don’t like boys. I mean, sometimes I do. Or maybe I just like the idea of them. Of having a boyfriend. Like in the movies and books, you know? But it’s like there’s something missing… I don’t know. I thought a kiss would be this amazing thing that you keep wanting to do again, that it was something magical, but… kissing boys is just… it’s nothing. It doesn’t really do anything to me. I tried to convince myself that I liked it, but it was just… it was boring. And their hands are too big and rough and… I don’t know, I like holding hands with girls much better. Or hugging girls. Or kissing girls…” Glancing away, Camila cleared her throat. “Girls are prettier too. Boys can be good looking, but girls are… they’re really beautiful.”

Lauren opened her mouth, only to close it again. Blinking, she ran her fingers through her hair. Her previous anger was forgotten as she tried to come to terms with this new information. “You… you like girls? You’re… gay? B-but… Austin?”

“Austin was…” Camila trailed off, staring into the distance. “Austin was the first boy who actually wanted to date me. I don’t know, it sounds kind of silly now, but… I really wanted to feel normal for once. Our lives were so busy and everyone kept asking me about my non-existent first kiss – I wanted to be a normal teenage girl for once and have a boyfriend. You had Luis and later Brad –”

“Don’t. Just… don’t,” Lauren muttered, grimacing slightly. “Everything was a lie then? You constantly gushed over him, Camila. You were barely leaving his sight. You were obsessed with that idiot. And you were heartbroken when he ended it. Don’t even dare to deny it, I was there. We all held you when you cried your eyes out.”

Biting her lip, Camila shrugged again. “Of course I was hurt when he left me after we just went public. I wasn’t in love with him, though. I mean, I obviously thought I was, but I wasn’t. Sexuality is a really confusing thing and it takes time to come to terms with your own. You should know that.”

“Yes, I –“ Lauren stopped herself and glared at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Camila sighed. “Oh please, Lauren. Not only does our less than platonic past give me a clue, but you act just like me. You’re just a little more… aggressive in your denial.”

“Stop bringing up the fucking past!” Lauren hissed, looking around as if she was expecting the other girls to eavesdrop. “That didn’t mean anything. We were confused, Camila. That’s what it was. We were lonely and confused. It was… an experiment, okay? It’s totally normal and healthy to try stuff like that, but there were no feelings whatsoever involved. I’m not gay. Stop saying that I am! We agreed to never talk about any of this again. Why do you always have to bring this up?!”

Camila clenched her jaw, but otherwise remained completely calm. “And Lucy? Is she an experiment too?”

“Don’t bring her into this,” Lauren snarled, taking a step closer. “Shut the fuck up.”

The younger girl put her hands up in defense. “I understand that you want the Camren rumors to go away, but even if you and I posted a joined statement online, it wouldn’t help anyone. It would just hurt our fans and draw attention. Tabloids would write about it. It wouldn’t go away, you know that, Lauren. You would only make it worse.”

Lauren took a deep breath and turned away from her. “I hate this. Everything we do or don’t do gets scrutinized. We look at each other? We’re in love. We keep our distance? We’re obviously fighting. Why is our private life so important for everyone? It’s not fucking fair. I don’t know what to do…”

“For one, you could stop fighting the gay label,” Camila mumbled. Lauren snapped her head around to glare at her, but she quickly continued. “Yes, I know, you’re not gay, but you’re not straight either. I’m just saying you could avoid putting any kind of label on you. It worked for me. Like, I use gender neutral pronouns most of the time whenever they ask us something about love. I call them out for assuming we’re straight. I drop hints for the time when I actually do come out.”

Lauren furrowed her brow. “But that would only increase Camren rumors…”

Exasperated, Camila closed her eyes and tilted her head back. A deep sigh escaped her lips. “Right. And being completely furious whenever someone mentions Camren is not suspicious at all. You and your goddamn double standards.” She clenched her jaw and looked back to the girl in front of her. “You could have just ignored it all, you know? You could have acted like you do with the other girls. You could have brushed it off and kept being my friend in public. Fans usually pick two group members and ship them, it’s not unusual. It could have been nothing, Lauren. You made it a big deal. You gave them ammunition with each tweet, with each rant you posted. I’m sick of it.”

“You’re sick of it?!” Lauren laughed coldly, shaking her head in disbelief. “You are the one benefiting from all of this! You get all the support from Camren shippers because I’m the bad guy in this!”

“Benefiting?” Camila replied stunned. “I lost my best friend because of this bullshit you put me through! I got hurt. I felt alone. How did that benefit me?!”

“I don’t think distancing ourselves in public was too much to ask for!”

“It certainly is when in public suddenly changes to everywhere!”

“You know very well how sneaky our fans are!”

“But I don’t let them dictate my life,” Camila hissed, eyes narrowed in anger. Her hands had curled into fists and shook with barely suppressed raged. “I don’t drop my friends because of something as silly as this. I don’t ask them to stop holding my hand. To stop looking at them. To stop hugging them. Being afraid and in denial of your sexuality is no excuse of how you treated me. I felt like shit, Lauren. I thought I had hurt you in some way! I thought you were disgusted by me. You can’t treat people like that and expect them to be fine with it. It was not my fault that you think liking girls is something bad!”

Lauren opened her mouth, only to close it soon after. She looked as if she had bitten into a lemon.

“Why couldn’t you just act naturally around me, like you’re doing with the other girls?” Camila asked again, sounding slightly dejected. “Who cares if you’re gay or bi or straight? Our fandom doesn’t. Our families won’t. Liking girls is not wrong, Lauren. You should finally start to live by the things you preach.”

Lauren crossed her arms defensively and narrowed her eyes. “It’s none of their business. How can you be so calm about this? They’re telling everyone we’re in love, Camila. They’re telling our families and our friends that we’re lesbians. Don’t you want to come out on your own terms? How can that make you not mad? They are way past the line. They crossed it a long time ago.”

“Our fandom says worse things to me and about me than linking me to you romantically. I don’t know, I’m kind of flattered that they deem me good enough for you,” Camila joked, but the hopeful smile on her lips dimmed as Lauren only continued to glare at her. “You seriously need to let go of that anger. Being gay or bi is not a bad thing.”

Lauren scoffed. “I’m not seeing you out and proud either.”

“Of course not, my family wouldn’t be ready for that yet,” Camila waved off as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. “But I accept myself the way I am. If I like girls, who cares? It’s okay. I am what I am, right? We’re always preaching love and acceptance to our fans. We should follow our own advice. If you tell a fan that it’s okay if she’s gay or bi or whatever, how can you look at yourself in the mirror and think it’s not? Would you say that to your fan? No, of course you wouldn’t. So don’t say that to yourself either.”

“It’s not even about that! It’s about people assuming Camren is real and attacking my friends!”

Barely hiding the roll of her eyes, Camila sighed. “Yes, some of them cross the line in messing with our private life, but… Lauren, what are you going to do with Lucy?”

Lauren furrowed her brow, obviously thrown off by the sudden topic change. “Lucy?”

“I mean that you can’t let it destroy your relationship like it destroyed ours.” She held Lauren’s gaze, waiting for her to start fuming, to start attacking her, to start denying, but the older girl only pressed her lips together to a firm line. “Some fans are starting to ship you guys, some have always been, but it’s growing. I know you’ve seen it. Don’t repeat your mistake and pull away from her. She doesn’t deserve this, Lauren.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I have eyes. And I’ve been there.” Camila gave her a sad smile and shrugged. “It’s okay. I always suspected that you two had history of some sort. If I was the person who made you realize… who made you comfortable enough to pursue it…” She took a deep breath and looked away from the green eyes. “Well, then I’m okay with having been your experiment. It’s obvious that you never felt the same for me with how you acted afterwards. I’m not mad at you for that. I’m disappointed that you destroyed our friendship, but… I’m not mad.”

Lauren clenched her jaw. “I didn’t destroy our friendship, Camila. You became more and more distant. We could have remained friends in private, but you avoided me like the plague.”

“Seriously? You’re blaming me for…” Camila trailed off and shook her head, stunned. “You know what? Fine. Have it your way. When everything I have just said to you doesn’t mean a thing, then continue to bath in self-pity. Just keep thinking you’re the only victim here and that nothing is your fault.”

“It was not my fault. Hey – where are you going?” Lauren frowned as Camila turned around and walked away. “Are you seriously leaving? On your own?”

“There’s obviously nothing I can say or do to help you,” she called over her shoulder and continued in the direction that would hopefully lead her back to camp. “I’m not standing here and let you blame me for things beyond my control.”

“Camila, it’s not safe…” Lauren trailed off as the younger girl kept walking through the bushes and slowly disappeared from her view. “Fuck.”

Groaning, she looked up to the treetops and shook her head in exasperation before looking back to where her group mate had gone. With a roll of her eyes, she started to run as fast as the uneven ground allowed her to, trying to catch up.

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#UPDATE #series #non AU #angst drama #submission #Camp Hansen

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