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movingmusically · 2 months ago

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Caught Feeling - Chapter 1

Synopsis:

Tired of her quiet, predictable life, a woman takes a spontaneous detour into a gritty bar. What begins as a distraction becomes a night of rediscovery, as an encounter with a captivating bartender brings her face-to-face with her own fears—and desires.

Author’s Note:

I’ve never written anything before, though I’ve always had stories in my head. Seeing all the Caught Stealing set content this week finally pushed me to get something down. I’ve combined the original two parts I posted earlier into one updated story, adding in some details I couldn’t leave out!

Word Count: 8,712

Masterlist

The truth is, I don’t really know what possessed me to walk into Paul’s tonight. I’m not the kind of person who normally does things like this—spontaneous, bold, risky. That’s never been me. Or at least, it hasn’t been me in a long time.

There was a time when I was more comfortable in my own skin, when my shyness didn’t feel like a weight. It used to be a part of me, something I accepted, something I lived with rather than fought against. I could be quiet and still feel confident, blending into the background but never doubting my worth. But somewhere along the way, that shifted. The quiet I once enjoyed now feels stifling. I’m constantly second-guessing myself, overthinking every little action, every word I say, as if there’s some invisible audience keeping score.

The world feels too loud, too fast, and I feel too small in it.

Lately, the silence of my own company has become less of a comfort and more of a reminder. A reminder that I’m stuck. That life is moving forward, and I’m standing still, watching everyone else go on without me. I can’t even remember the last time I did something that made me feel...alive. Not just existing from one day to the next but really feeling like I’m part of something—part of the world instead of just a spectator.

Tonight, it feels like I’ve reached some invisible limit. I can’t take another evening of staring at the same four walls, of flicking through channels without really watching, of pretending I’m okay with the monotony. Work drained me, as it always does, leaving me too exhausted to think but somehow too restless to sleep. My mind feels like it’s stuck in a loop, clogged with the same old worries that circle endlessly, without resolution. They’re small things—most of them, at least—but they pile up, weighing me down until I can barely breathe under their collective pressure.

Normally, I’d push through it, fall back into my routine because that’s what I do. I know the safe route; I’ve perfected it over time. But tonight, the routine felt unbearable. The thought of going home, of slipping back into the same old patterns—it made my chest tighten with the kind of dread I couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t that I had a plan, not really. I just knew I couldn’t face another night of nothingness.

So instead of walking home like I always do, I took a different path, literally. One foot in front of the other, the sidewalk unfamiliar beneath me as I moved further away from everything that felt safe and known. It wasn’t intentional, not at first. But the farther I walked, the more it felt like I was being pulled—by something I couldn’t name, some need inside me that I’ve been trying to ignore for too long.

And that’s how I ended up here, standing in front of Paul’s, the bar I’ve passed countless times but never once considered entering. It’s not my kind of place. Never has been. It’s gritty, loud, with an edge that feels too rough for someone like me. The kind of bar where everyone seems to know each other, where conversations are shared over sticky countertops and half-drunk glasses of whiskey. The regulars here probably have stories they’ve told a hundred times, stories about the kind of life I don’t live—the kind of life I always thought I didn’t want.

But maybe tonight, I don’t want to be the kind of person who always plays it safe, who blends into the background without ever leaving a mark. Maybe tonight, I need to be someone else. Someone who isn’t so afraid to take up space. Someone who doesn’t spend hours dissecting every interaction, every conversation, until the memory of it feels more like a mistake than a moment.

I step inside, and immediately, the atmosphere hits me like a wave. The smell of cigarette smoke clings to the air, mixing with the sharp scent of alcohol and something else I can’t quite place. It’s dimly lit, the kind of place where shadows linger in the corners, and the faces blur together unless you’re really looking. There’s a hum of conversation, the low murmur of voices blending with the occasional burst of laughter, creating a background noise that fills the space without overpowering it.

I don’t know why, but the second I cross the threshold, I feel the weight of the room shift. Not in any obvious way. It’s not like anyone stops what they’re doing to look at me—most people are too engrossed in their own lives, their own stories. But I feel it. I feel different, like I’ve stepped out of my usual world and into something unfamiliar, something that makes my nerves buzz just beneath the surface of my skin.

For a brief moment, I want to turn around, to leave before anyone even notices I’m here. That familiar urge to retreat, to go back to what I know, bubbles up inside me, threatening to overwhelm the tentative boldness that brought me here in the first place. But I don’t leave. I take a deep breath, hold it for a moment, and then force myself to stay. To move further into the bar, even though every part of me is screaming to turn back.

I make my way toward the bar, my steps feeling both too loud and too quiet at the same time. My eyes flick around, taking in the crowd, but not really seeing anyone. I feel exposed, out of place, but at the same time, there’s a strange comfort in knowing that no one is really paying attention to me. I can be invisible here if I want to be—and that’s fine. I’m not here to be noticed. I don’t need anyone to see me.

I just need a break—from my own head, from the endless loop of thoughts and worries that seem to follow me wherever I go. I don’t know what I’m hoping to find here, or if I’m even looking for anything at all. All I know is that tonight, I couldn’t go home. I needed to be somewhere different, somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere that wasn’t the same quiet, predictable space where my thoughts would close in on me again.

That’s when I see him.

He was positioned behind the bar, leaning casually against the counter with an ease that suggested he was in his element, practically part of the furniture. His blonde hair, tousled and slightly unkempt, peeked out from under a well-worn baseball cap, pulled down just enough to give him a hint of mystery, shadowing his piercing blue eyes. Those eyes caught mine with an intensity that felt almost tangible, sharp and probing, as if he could peel back the layers of anyone who happened to fall under his gaze.

For a brief moment, the thought of diverting my eyes flitted through my mind, a reflex to escape the unexpected vulnerability I felt under his scrutiny. But I didn’t look away. Instead, our eyes locked, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face—a smile that seemed to see right through to the nerves I was trying so hard to mask. He held my gaze for a beat too long, creating a moment charged with an unspoken challenge before he turned his attention back to the drinks he was pouring.

A stir of something unfamiliar fluttered inside me—a cocktail of nerves, curiosity, and an exhilarating sense of daring. This wasn't typically me; I was not one to flirt openly, especially with bartenders, nor to sit alone boldly in such a buzzing place. But tonight was different. Tonight, I felt drawn to the unknown, compelled to explore whatever this could lead to.

As I approached the bar, each step seemed amplified, my awareness heightened as if every movement was a statement of intent. I slid onto a stool, feeling the coolness of the leather through my jeans, and my presence seemed to draw his attention once more. The bottles behind him caught the soft lighting of the bar, casting a kaleidoscope of colours across the polished surface. The room was steeped in the smells of smoke and aged wood, enriched with a hint of something musky, almost intoxicating.

He glanced up as I settled in, his earlier smile returning, expectant, as if he had anticipated the challenge I was about to present.

“What’ll it be?” he asked, his voice a rough blend of warmth and rasp, perfectly echoing the raw, ambient energy of the bar.

Under normal circumstances, I’d have a standard order ready, something simple and unassuming, designed to blend in rather than stand out. But tonight, driven by a newfound audacity, I hesitated, meeting his gaze squarely. “Whatever you recommend,” I ventured, my voice more steady than I felt.

His eyebrow arched, clearly amused by my response, and his smirk widened, adding a playful edge to his already compelling demeanour. “You trust me to pick for you?”

I nodded, the gesture firm despite the fluttering in my stomach. “Yeah. Surprise me.”

He chuckled, a low sound that seemed to resonate with a hint of respect, or perhaps challenge. Shaking his head as if in disbelief at my daring, he reached for a bottle. “Alright, you asked for it.”

Watching him work was like observing a skilled artist; each movement was fluid and assured. He selected ingredients with precision, mixing them with a practiced hand that spoke of years behind the bar. As he prepared the drink, I found myself stealing glances, drawn to the confident way he navigated his domain.

He slid the drink across the bar with a smooth motion, and when his fingers brushed mine, a spark of electricity zipped through me, startling and vivid.

“Here you go,” he said, his tone light, that easy grin playing on his lips again. “Let me know what you think.”

I took a tentative sip, and the drink was a revelation—smooth with an undercurrent of complexity that mirrored the night itself. It warmed me, loosening the edges of my anxiety, coaxing a sense of openness I hadn’t felt upon walking in.

“Not bad,” I replied, my own smile a reflection of his, a silent acknowledgment of the small adventure I had embarked upon.

His eyes studied me, a flicker of intrigue passing through them. “Good to know,” he said, his voice tinged with a subtle warmth. He momentarily excused himself to attend to another customer, his movements efficient and practiced as he refilled a drink without missing a beat.

As he worked, the familiar atmosphere of the bar wrapped around us—a comfortable hum of background chatter mingled with the clink of glasses and the occasional cheer from patrons watching the baseball game on the television above. Adjusting his cap, he made his way back to where I was sitting, his approach marked by an easy, confident smile that seemed to pull the dim light of the bar towards him.

Normally, I’d be tongue-tied, fumbling for words, but here, with him, it felt different.

“So, you come here often?” I asked, aiming for light-hearted but cringing a bit at the cliché.

He chuckled, a light, engaging sound that drew a grin from me. “I guess you could say that. I work here most nights. Name’s Hank, by the way,” he introduced himself, extending a hand across the bar.

Hank. It suited him perfectly—strong, straightforward, with just the right amount of rugged charm.

“I’m—” I began, ready to offer my own name, but just then, a regular at the end of the bar caught Hank’s attention, loudly requesting help with the jukebox that was stubbornly refusing to accept their money. Hank shot me a quick, conspiratorial smile that promised he’d return, and then he was off, his stride confident as he navigated the crowded space.

I watched him as he worked, noting the way his shoulders rolled with each movement, the casual confidence in his stride. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, something that drew the eye and held it. It wasn’t just his looks—though those certainly didn’t hurt—it was the way he seemed so completely at ease in his environment, as if he were as much a fixture of the bar as the shelves of liquor behind him.

As he adjusted the jukebox, his eyes occasionally flicked to the small television mounted above the bar. The San Francisco Giants were playing, and it was clear from his intermittent nods and muttered comments to another patron that he was following the game.

When he returned, the noise level in the bar had dropped a bit, and he leaned in slightly to resume our conversation. “Big Giants fan?” I asked, gesturing towards his hat and the screen above us.

"Definitely," Hank said, his smile broadening. "I played a ton in high school back in California, but a bad leg break sidelined me for good. Now, I never miss a game, it helps keep the spirit alive."

“From baseball player to master mixologist,” I observed, noting the transition from his past interests to his current profession. “Looks like you’ve got it all figured out.”

He let out a soft chuckle, a hint of irony flickering in his eyes. “Something like that,” he replied with a slight shrug. “Though life always has a few surprises up its sleeve, doesn’t it?”

As the evening unfolded, the bar had thinned out, not nearly as busy as when I first arrived, but still lively enough to keep Hank moving between customers. Between sharing a laugh, or tossing a rag over his shoulder with casual grace, his eyes would inevitably return, as though drawn by some unspoken pull. Each time he approached, it felt like we were continuing a conversation that had never really stopped, even if words weren’t always exchanged. It was more about his presence—the way he leaned in slightly, his focus making it seem like nothing else in the room mattered.

The warmth of the alcohol settled into me, quieting my usual reservations. It wasn’t enough to cloud my thoughts—I was still fully aware—but it gave me a newfound confidence. With each passing moment, the initial unease melted away, replaced by a comfortable rhythm between us.

“So, what brings you to Paul’s tonight? You don’t exactly blend in with the usual crowd here,” Hank inquired after a while, his tone casual but curious, his eyes searching mine for something deeper than the surface-level chit-chat.

I hesitated, the question more profound than I had anticipated sharing with a near-stranger. Yet, something about Hank’s straightforwardness, underscored by the honest curiosity in his eyes, made me want to open up.

I shrugged, glancing around. “Just needed a change of scenery, I guess. This isn’t exactly my usual kind of place.”

He chuckled, leaning against the bar, his blue eyes flicking up to the TV screen for a moment where the end credits of the game were rolling. “Yeah, I kind of figured. You’ve got that look—like you’re used to being somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else like… where?” I asked, curious what he saw in me.

He paused, his gaze momentarily drifting off as if visualising the answer, then locked back onto me with a reflective expression. “I dunno. A café, maybe? Somewhere quiet. You strike me as someone who appreciates peace.”

I smiled, touched by his perceptiveness. “You’re not wrong. I’m definitely more of a coffee shop girl than a bar regular.”

Hank’s eyes twinkled with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as he leaned in a bit, resting his chin on his hand, studying me as if he was putting together a puzzle. “Let me guess,” he started, his voice lowering to a warm, playful tone, “you’ve got that favourite little corner spot, don’t you? Always tucked away with a book or maybe a notebook for doodling or jotting down your thoughts. And I bet you drink your coffee black, no distractions—just you and your thoughts.”

The accuracy of his assumptions made me burst into laughter, more open and genuine than I expected in such a setting. “Okay, you’re close,” I conceded, still chuckling. “But, I do take a little sugar with my coffee—just a touch to sweeten the deal.”

His laughter joined mine, creating a light, easy atmosphere that seemed to set the tone for whatever was to come. “Noted,” he said, with a mock-serious nod. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

The lighthearted moment briefly subsided as he posed a more thoughtful question, his tone lowering to a gentle, inviting rumble. “So, what’s got you stepping out of your coffee shop comfort zone tonight?”

Glancing down at my glass, the swirl of liquid momentarily mesmerising, I acknowledged the underlying current of vulnerability. Yet, there was an ease in Hank’s presence that coaxed the words from me more freely than I expected. “I don’t know... I just didn’t want to be alone tonight. Work’s been overwhelming, I guess I just needed a break from myself for a while. From the routine, the quiet. You ever feel that way?”

Hank’s response was a nod, his eyes softening with a deep understanding. “Yeah, more than you’d think.” Curiosity piqued, I found myself more drawn to him, seeing him not only in his role here but as someone who genuinely understood the struggles people go through. “What about you? You seem like the kind of guy who’s seen it all here. What keeps you coming back?”

“The people, I guess,” he said thoughtfully, his eyes meeting mine again. “Everyone who walks in has their own story, their own reason for being here. I like that—it’s unpredictable. I can be part of the background or something more, depending on the night. Tonight feels different, though.”

“Different how?” I asked, my voice quieter now, the conversation shifting as his attention became more focused.

“Maybe it’s you,” he said, his tone teasing but his gaze serious. “You stand out. You’re not trying to blend in, like most people who come in here to disappear for a bit.”

I felt a shiver run through me, even though his words were light. “I wasn’t really planning on standing out,” I admitted, my voice softer now, a little shy.

He folded his arms on the bar, leaning in just a touch closer. The subtle intimacy of the gesture didn’t go unnoticed. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

I felt my cheeks warm, surprised at how much I liked hearing that. “Yeah… me too,” I said, smiling just enough to let him know I meant it.

He smiled back, his voice dropping lower. “Sometimes, stepping into something unfamiliar is exactly what we need to remind ourselves what we’ve been missing.”

There was a brief pause, comfortable yet charged with an unspoken acknowledgment of the connection forming between us. “And what do you think I’ve been missing?”

He leaned in, closing the space between us. “Maybe something real. Something that pulls you out of the everyday.”

I held his gaze, my heart racing a little faster now. “Maybe I am.”

“Well,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, “you’re not alone in that.”

The air between us thickened, charged with an undeniable pull. Even in the quiet, there was no mistaking the connection forming between us—raw, real, and electric.

The last patrons trickled out, and the bar lights dimmed slightly, signalling the end of the night. The soft glow cast shadows that only made the space feel more intimate. A slow, soulful tune from the jukebox filled the room, amplifying the closeness between us.

Hank leaned in a little more, his hands idly wiping down the already spotless counter, though his attention was fully on me. The air around us felt thick with unspoken anticipation, a magnetic pull that neither of us could ignore.

"You’ve definitely changed the vibe in here tonight," Hank murmured, his voice a low, warm rumble that seemed to match the mood of the room. “Doesn’t happen often.”

I felt a flush of heat rise to my cheeks but found myself leaning in too, letting the moment take over. "Is that your way of saying you hope I come back?" I asked, my tone playful, though beneath it, there was something bolder, something daring.

A slow smile spread across his face, one that made my pulse quicken. “I’m definitely saying that. You’ve made tonight... different. And I like it.”

The room felt smaller, as though it was just the two of us, the rest of the world fading into the background. Our eyes locked, the tension between us humming with an intensity that felt almost tangible. Neither of us moved to break it.

Hank leaned a little closer. There was a question forming on his lips, one that seemed to dance in his eyes as he paused, giving the moment the weight it deserved.

His gaze flicked to the back door, then back to me, and I could see the question in his eyes before he said it. “You wanna get out of here?” His voice was low, the words hanging in the air between us like a challenge.

The invitation was clear, laden with possibilities and the thrill of continuing whatever was unfolding between us outside the confines of the bar walls. I blinked, my heart skipping a beat. Normally, I would hesitate, tangled in self-doubt and over-analysis. But tonight felt different. It felt like a return to an older version of myself—I took a deep breath, embracing the liberating shift, and met Hank's gaze with a quiet nod.

"Yeah," I said softly, "I do."

Hank nodded, a knowing smile spreading across his face as he moved towards the employees-only door at the far end of the bar. He gestured for me to come closer to where the bar ended, and I walked towards him, my heart pounding in my ears.

As I reached the end of the bar, I found myself separated from him by a pane of glass that partitioned off the employees’ area. Above Hank, the neon “BAR” sign bathed him in an ethereal glow, casting dramatic shadows across his features, highlighting the contours of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, and the gentle curve of his full lips. He reached up to unlock the door from his side, his eyes locked on mine.

Our hands met through the glass, fingertips aligning in a moment charged with anticipation. The cool surface couldn’t lessen the warmth that radiated from his touch. With a soft click, he swung the door open, diminishing the barrier between us.

“After you,” he said, his voice low and inviting. I moved around the partition, stepping into his world behind the bar for the first time. There was an intimate thrill to being on his side, close enough to share his space.

Together, we walked towards the back of the bar, where a heavy door led to the alley outside. As Hank pushed it open the cool night air hit my skin, but it did little to cool the fire that had been burning between us all night. The alley behind the bar was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the walls, but I barely noticed. All I could focus on was him—the way his broad shoulders moved, the way his hands flexed at his sides as if he was holding himself back.

We stopped just outside the door, and before I had time to second-guess myself, he turned to me, stepping in close. The space between us disappeared in an instant, and I felt his hand at my waist, pulling me gently but firmly against him. My breath caught in my throat, and for a split second, all I could do was look up into those mesmerising blue eyes, my heart pounding in my chest.

Then he kissed me.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. His lips crashed against mine, urgent and hungry, like he’d been waiting all night for this moment. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer as his mouth moved against mine, and I kissed him back just as fiercely, my fingers instinctively finding their way to the base of his skull. His hair was soft, curling around my fingers as I tangled my hands in it, pulling him closer.

He let out a low, guttural sound, the kind of sound that sent shivers down my spine and made my knees weak. His hands slid up my back, his fingers digging into my skin as he pressed me against the brick wall behind us. The roughness of the wall was a stark contrast to the heat of his body, and I arched into him, wanting—needing—to be closer.

As he kissed me deeper, the sensation was overwhelming—like a storm that obliterates everything else, leaving only a beautiful, blissful blankness in its wake. It blew my mind how everything inside me cast into darkness, every worry dissolving in the heat of his touch. What a relief it was, not having to think anymore.

My hands stayed tangled in his hair, pulling him down harder as his lips trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along my jawline.

This wasn’t me. This wasn’t the shy, quiet girl who kept to herself, who avoided risks. But right now, with Hank’s body pressed against mine, his lips on my skin, I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, the way he made me feel—alive, bold, free.

And I wasn’t about to stop.

His breath was hot against my skin as his lips moved lower, trailing down my neck, and I could feel every nerve in my body igniting. I tugged at his hair again, just enough to pull him back to my mouth, and when our lips met, the kiss was even more intense—desperate, as if we both knew this moment was everything we had been building up to all night.

I could feel his body press harder against mine, his hands roaming over my waist, my hips, pulling me even closer as though the small space between us was unbearable. My back hit the rough surface of the brick wall again, but the discomfort only heightened the sensation. The world outside the alley faded away—there were no more sounds from the bar, no distant cars, just the pounding of our hearts and the shared heat between us.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, and he rested his forehead against mine, his blue eyes searching my face in the dim light. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire.

I swallowed, my breath still catching in my throat. “I think I do,” I whispered back, unable to stop the smile that tugged at my lips.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I thought I had you all figured out, but… you keep surprising me.”

“I’m surprising myself,” I admitted, my fingers still tangled in his hair, feeling the warmth of his scalp beneath my touch. “But I like it.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me fully, his gaze softening for a moment, as if he was trying to read me—trying to make sure I was still in control, still wanting this as much as he did. And I was. More than I’d ever imagined.

“What now?” His voice was a little quieter, a little less hurried, but still laced with that same intensity.

I didn’t need to think about it. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his again, this time slower, more deliberate, savouring the feel of him, the taste of his mouth. “I don’t want this to stop,” I whispered between kisses, my hands sliding down to grip his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held back.

He groaned softly against my lips, his hands gripping my hips tighter. “It doesn’t have to.”

The way he said it, so sure, made my heart race even faster. We were in an alley behind a bar, but in this moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing felt rushed or wrong. It felt like exactly where we were supposed to be. Like I had finally stepped into a part of myself I’d been avoiding for too long. And with him, it felt… right.

The intensity between us burned hotter, and soon, his hands were back on my waist, sliding under my shirt, his fingers grazing the skin there in a way that made me gasp. I could feel the roughness of the brick wall behind me, but all I could focus on was him—his touch, his breath, the way he seemed just as lost in this as I was.

But there was something else too, a sense of grounding I hadn’t expected. He wasn’t rushing. He wasn’t pushing. He was waiting, following my lead, giving me the space to feel, to take in every second of this. And I knew, in that moment, that whatever happened next, it was because we both wanted it. Because we were both ready for it.

And as the world around us continued to disappear, the night taking over, I knew that whatever came next—whether it lasted for just this night or beyond—it would be the best decision I’d ever made.

But then, as if sensing a shift in the moment, Hank’s lips stilled against mine. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling in the cool night air. His fingers tightened on my waist as though he couldn’t bear to let me go for even a second, but his voice was softer now, more grounded. “We should get out of here.”

My eyes fluttered open, meeting his in the dim light. He was still close, so close, his blue eyes darker now, full of unspoken promise. “Yeah,” I breathed, my heart still racing. “We should.”

Without another word, he gently untangled us from the wall, his hand sliding into mine as he led me out of the alley. The sudden openness of the quiet street hit me all at once, the world outside the alley much brighter, sharper, but I barely registered it. All I could think about was the way Hank’s thumb traced small circles on the back of my hand as we walked, like he needed the physical connection to tether us to the moment. I held his hand tighter, feeling the warmth radiating through his palm, the steadiness in the way he held me.

We walked in silence for a minute, the intensity of the night lingering between us. There was no rush, no need for words right now—just the sound of our footsteps echoing softly in the quiet night. I couldn’t help but steal glances at him as we walked, at the way his jaw clenched and relaxed, his gaze still fixed ahead, but every now and then flicking back to me with that same heat that had burned between us all night.

With every step, the cool night seemed to draw us closer, the world fading until there was nothing but the warmth of his hand in mine. Finally, we reached his apartment. Hank fumbled with the keys for just a moment, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, betraying a mix of nerves and excitement. The lock clicked, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet hallway, and the door swung open, revealing the inviting glow of warm light inside.

He stepped aside, letting me walk in first, his hand still wrapped around mine. The apartment was simple but cozy, a space that felt lived in but not cluttered. Warm light spilled from a nearby lamp, casting a golden hue over dark wood furniture, soft blankets draped over a well-worn couch, and a guitar propped in the corner. The air was tinged with a scent that was both woodsy and intimately familiar—perhaps cedar, or simply the essence of Hank—enveloping me in a sense of deep, comforting familiarity.

As he shut the door behind us, the soft click of the lock seemed to seal us off from the rest of the world. The moment was heavy with anticipation, yet it carried a tenderness that made the space between us feel charged yet safe. I stood still, taking in the room, and felt his presence behind me. Turning slowly, I met his gaze—intense, dark, yet filled with a softness that drew me closer.

The electric connection that had sparked between us earlier was not only still present but had intensified in the privacy of his space. His eyes momentarily searched mine, a silent question lingering in their depths, ensuring I was truly there with him, in this moment. Reassured by my subtle nod, his familiar half-smile appeared, sending a rush of warmth through me.

He approached me, each step measured and unhurried. Reaching me, he raised his hand to gently cup my face, his thumb tenderly brushing my cheek in a touch that grounded and calmed me. His fingers wove through my hair, and a shiver ran down my spine as his thumb delicately traced my lower lip, the gesture so filled with intent and tenderness that my breath hitched in anticipation.

For a moment, we simply stood there, barely inches apart, the stillness of his apartment wrapping around us. Then, driven by playful curiosity, I reached up and gently tugged at the brim of his cap, pulling it off. His hair, tousled and soft, spilled over his forehead. The golden lamplight highlighted subtle waves, which caught the light as they fell free. I smiled and let the cap drop to the floor.

“I’ve been wanting to see you without this,” I teased, my fingers weaving through his hair, exploring its texture—thick and surprisingly soft, curling lightly against my fingers. He exhaled a soft sigh, a sound of relief or perhaps pleasure, his eyes deepening into a more intense hue as they locked with mine.

“It feels better already,” he murmured, the timbre of his voice low and inviting. His hands found their way to my waist, his touch firm yet gentle, anchoring me close to him as his gaze stayed fixed on mine, conveying a depth of feeling that went beyond mere attraction.

We kissed again, but this time it was different—slower, more deliberate, as if we were savouring every second. His hands roamed over my waist, tracing the curves of my hips before gliding up my back, each touch sending shivers cascading through me. I leaned into him, my body pressing closer, feeling the firm warmth of his chest against mine.

His lips left mine only to trail down to my neck, soft and warm as he planted a line of kisses from my jaw to my collarbone. My breath caught in my throat, a flush of heat sweeping over me as his hands slid under the hem of my shirt, his fingers grazing the bare skin of my lower back. I arched into him, wanting more of his touch, more of him.

But he maintained a tantalising pace, not rushing the moment. His hands explored with deliberation, exploring the contours of my body as if he wished to etch them into his memory. His touch was gentle yet assertive, guiding without pressuring, and I felt the attentiveness in every movement, ensuring I was fully present with him. My hands wandered across his chest, tracing the defined muscles beneath his shirt, revelling in how his body tensed responsively to my touch.

He kissed me again, deeper this time, and in a quiet plea for more, I tugged gently at the hem of his shirt. He pulled back just enough to help me lift it over his head, tossing it to the side. The sight of him—shirtless, standing before me in the soft light—made my heart race even faster. His torso was sculpted and firm, his skin radiating warmth under my fingertips as I followed the lines of his muscles, feeling the slight tension there as if he, too, was holding back, letting the moment unfold slowly.

Hank’s hands slid up my sides, his fingers brushing over the fabric of my shirt as he slowly began to lift it. I raised my arms in silent consent, allowing him to pull the garment over my head. The cool air brushed against my skin, yet it paled in comparison to the fervour of his touch. His hands returned to the small of my back, drawing me in until our bodies aligned. I was now standing in just my bra and jeans, my bare skin pressing against his, the direct contact of our skin was electrifying.

His gaze swept over me, filled with a mixture of awe and desire, yet he maintained his deliberate pace. Leaning in, he kissed me tenderly, his hands rising along my back to trace the contours of my spine, finally pausing at the clasp of my bra. He hesitated, his breath warm against my ear, his voice a soft murmur, “Is this okay?”

I nodded, breathless, my hands running up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palms. “Yes.”

He smiled against my skin, his fingers deftly unhooking my bra before letting it fall to the floor. His hands were on me again in an instant, warm and firm, sliding up to cup my breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over my skin in slow, teasing circles.

Hank’s lips grazed my collarbone, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to the swell of my chest. His hands explored me with deliberate care, his touch sending waves of heat coursing through my body. When his mouth found my nipple, he teased it gently, the sensation sparking something deep and primal inside me. I let out a soft moan, my fingers tightening in his hair. “God, that feels amazing,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

He let out a low groan as he lifted me with ease, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His hands tightened around my thighs, keeping me close, I could feel the hardness of his body pressing into mine, each step toward the bedroom intensifying my need for him, the heat between us nearly unbearable.

He laid me down gently on the bed, his body hovering over mine, his hands never leaving my skin. He kissed me again, slow and deep, as his hands moved down my sides, tracing the line of my ribs, my hips, before reaching the waistband of my jeans. His fingers lingered there for a moment, his touch light but full of promise.

My body ached for him, the need overwhelming now, and I reached up, my hands tugging at his belt. Hank’s breath hitched as I unfastened it, my fingers slowly working the buckle before moving to the button of his jeans. I eased the zipper down, each movement deliberate, and he quickly followed my lead, his fingers deftly undoing the button on mine. With one smooth motion, he eased both my jeans and underwear down. I sat up slightly, desire tightening in my core as I eagerly guided his jeans and boxers down. He groaned softly as I slid the fabric over his hips , and I couldn’t help but bite my lip, heat flooding through me as I took in the sight of him, feeling a mix of awe and raw need.

With nothing left between us, Hank moved closer, his weight slowly pressing down as he hovered above me, our bodies finally connecting. The sensation of his warmth and the solid press of his length against me was overwhelming, yet exactly what I craved. His lips found mine again, gentler this time, while his hands explored me with careful intention, as if he wanted to savour every moment and memorise every inch of me.

He paused for a moment, his forehead resting against mine as he caught his breath, his hands still cupping my waist, his thumbs gently brushing over my skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with yearning.

I smiled up at him, my hands sliding up to cup his face, pulling him down for another kiss. “So are you.”

It was intoxicating—he was intoxicating. And yet, as his hand slid down my side, I felt a flicker of something else. This isn’t me, I thought, not for the first time tonight. The quiet, careful girl who played it safe, who kept her feelings locked away, wouldn’t have ended up here. But with Hank—with him—everything felt different. It wasn’t just the heat between us or the way his touch made my body come alive. It was the way he looked at me, the way he saw me, like there was no one else in the world but us.

And for the first time, I wasn’t afraid to let go.

His fingers traced lower, along the length of my thigh, caressing the sensitive skin there. He kissed just beneath my ear, and I could feel the soft brush of his hair as he moved, his breath heavy but controlled. Hank’s hand moved between my legs, his fingers parting me gently, slick with my wetness, exploring with a careful but knowing touch. My breath caught, and I let out a soft moan, my body arching into him, craving more. I could feel the tension building inside me, every nerve alight with sensation, and the way he touched me—so deliberate, so focused—made the moment feel even more intense.

He lifted his head, his lips brushing against mine as he met my gaze, his blue eyes dark and full of need. There was something in the way he looked at me, something that made my heart pound even harder—like he was asking for more than just permission. He was asking for trust.

And I gave it to him.

My hips shifted with his movements, my body instinctively responding as his fingers pressed deeper, working in rhythm with my rising need. His touch sent waves of heat through me, building toward a release I could feel just out of reach. His lips moved against mine, his breath ragged as he murmured my name, his voice thick with want. I could feel the urgency in every kiss, every movement, as he drew me closer to the edge.

This wasn’t me—this wasn’t who I normally was. I didn’t do this. I didn’t sleep with men I’d just met. I had always been cautious, reserved, taking my time before giving myself over to moments like this. But with Hank, none of that mattered. There was something different here—something raw and honest that made me let go in a way I never had before.

I wasn’t inexperienced, far from it. I knew what I wanted, and right now, I wanted him. It wasn’t the uncertainty of the newness that had me trembling beneath him; it was the way he made me feel like this was more than just the moment. It was the way he looked at me like he saw me—like I wasn’t just a passing encounter, but something real.

Without breaking our connection, Hank shifted, his mouth moving lower as his fingers continued their steady rhythm. My hands tangled in his hair as I guided him down, my body urging him on. Then his lips were on me, soft and insistent, sending another rush of pleasure through me. My hand moved to grip the sheets beside me as he sucked gently, amplifying the sensation while his fingers stayed firm, working me toward release. I gasped, my legs tightening around him, instinctively holding him there as I let go completely, my body giving in as the waves of pleasure crashed over me.

I’d never let go like this before—not with someone I’d just met. But right now, I wasn’t thinking about what was usual or expected. I was just thinking about him.

Breathless, I felt him move back up, laying the length of his body gently against mine. Before he could say anything, I pulled him into a slow, deep kiss, tasting the remnants of my release on his lips. When I finally pulled back, his eyes locked onto mine. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough, filled with both satisfaction and unspoken need.

My heart raced, still buzzing from the release, and I breathed out a soft, teasing reply. “Not done yet,” I murmured, my lips brushing his jaw. The warmth of his skin against mine only fuelled the fire that hadn’t quite faded.

With a shift of my hips, I surprised both of us, rolling him over beneath me. Hank let out a low groan, his hands instinctively settling on my waist as I straddled him, my confidence growing as I took control. His eyes locked on mine, dark with hunger, and I could feel the rapid beat of his heart under my palms as I pressed them firmly to his chest.

“You like that?” I whispered, his answer was another groan, deeper this time, as his hands gripped my hips a little tighter. “You have no idea,” he growled, his voice full of want.

I leaned down, letting my lips barely graze his, keeping him just on the edge of what he craved, knowing I was the one in control now.

I hovered just above him, our breaths coming fast, feeling the heat radiating from his body, knowing he wanted more—needed more. But I held back, teasing him with the lightest brush of my lips, making him wait, making him want it as much as I did. His grip tightened on me, his fingers pressing into my skin as he resisted the urge to take control again.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

I smirked against his lips, revelling in the power I had over him in that moment. “Good,” I whispered, barely audible, before pressing my lips to his in a deep, languid kiss that made his whole body tense beneath me.

Hank groaned into my mouth as I moved my hips ever so slightly, teasing him with the smallest amount of friction. His body reacted immediately, his hands gripping my waist with a new urgency, but I wasn’t ready to give in just yet. I wanted to savour every second of this, every sound he made, every look in his eyes.

“Please,” he muttered against my lips, his voice hoarse, laced with desperation that sent a thrill through me.

I pressed my palms against his chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the tension in his muscles. “I’m just getting started,” I teased, lowering my lips to his neck, letting my teeth gently graze the skin there, sending a shiver through him. The soft gasp that escaped his lips sent a thrill through me, and I knew I was in control now.

He let out a low growl, his control slipping just enough that I could feel the shift in his body, the tension coiling tighter, and it sent another rush of excitement through me. I rocked my hips again, this time giving him just a little more of what he wanted, and the sound he made—deep, desperate—was enough to make my pulse race.

He tried to move beneath me, but I pressed him back down, holding him there with just a look, my body hovering above his as I whispered, “Let me.”

His breath hitched, his hands stilling on my waist as he nodded, his eyes dark and filled with nothing but need. He was completely mine in that moment, and the feeling was electric.

Slowly, I lowered myself onto him, taking his entire length with one long, languid thrust. I began to move, letting the rhythm build between us, each motion deliberate, but this time, I wasn’t holding back. His hands tightened on my hips, guiding me as I set the pace, every sound he made spurring me on.

I didn’t think about anything except the feel of him. It was the not thinking I loved most, the not thinking that I never wanted to end.

“You’re incredible,” he breathed, his voice almost reverent as his eyes met mine, and the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. “I can’t… get enough of you.”

The words sent a surge of heat through me, my movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, as the tension between us spiralled higher. His hands roamed over my body, tracing every curve, every line, and I could feel the restraint slipping from both of us, the heat between us burning hotter with each passing second.

I leaned down, letting my lips capture his again, this time deeper, my tongue sliding against his, claiming him just as he claimed me. His hands gripped my hips tighter, matching my pace as the intensity grew, our bodies completely in sync, every breath, every movement pushing us closer to the edge.

“Hank,” I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders as I rocked against him, my body trembling with the intensity of it all.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice raw and full of promise. And then, with a swift movement, he sat up, pulling me with him so I was still straddling his lap. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as his lips moved to my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. I gasped as he left soft love bites along my collarbone and down the side of my neck, his breath hot against my skin, each kiss, each bite sending a new wave of heat through me.

I gripped the back of his neck, my fingers digging into his skin as I arched into him, every nerve alight with sensation as his mouth worked its way across my skin, leaving a trail of pleasure in its wake.

The tension between us spiralled higher, my release building fast as my body tightened around him, the pleasure growing more intense with each second. His lips stayed on my neck, hands gripping my hips as he urged me to move, guiding me to grind harder against him. That added pressure sent me over the edge, and with one final push, I shattered, the pleasure crashing over me in waves.

Hank’s name escaped my lips in a broken whisper as I came undone above him, my body shaking with the force of my release, wave after wave, my mind completely lost in him. I felt him follow soon after, his grip tightening on my hips as he buried his face in the curve of my neck, his breath ragged and hot against my skin as his own release overtook him. His body tensed beneath me, and I could feel the shudder that went through him as we rode the high together, leaving me breathless and trembling in his arms.

For a moment, we just stayed like that, our bodies tangled together, our breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as we slowly came down from the high. His lips brushed my collarbone once more, softer this time, tender, before he leaned back, his eyes meeting mine.

“You…” he started, his voice hoarse, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t have words.”

I smiled back, my own heart still racing, but this time, it wasn’t just from the intensity of the moment—it was from the way he looked at me, like I was something more. Something important. “Good,” I whispered, my voice just as raw, “I don’t need them.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hands slid up my back, pulling me close once again. I curled up against him, my head resting on his chest as our breaths slowly synced. I could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath me, feel the warmth of his skin, and for the first time in a long time, I felt completely at peace.

And as we sat there, tangled together, I knew that whatever this was—whatever we were—it was only just beginning.

Masterlist

#austin butler #caught stealing #Hank Thompson #fiction #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #fanfic #fan fiction #imagine #hank thompson x you #hank thompson x reader #hank thompson x y/n #caught stealing fic

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trollprincess · 27 days ago

Text

On Election Night 2016, I called the national suicide hotline.

Okay, well, first I had a panic attack at work for obvious reasons. I was working as a temp at the place where I work weekend nights now, and as the attack was ramping up I decided to go home. It was a really bad attack. Like, I have a ten-minute drive home and I shook the entire way home.

I got home and was in the middle of my attack when I realized I was holding some of my medications. I can’t remember grabbing them. I don’t remember grabbing them. I do remember sitting there and thinking, “Maybe.” And so I picked up the phone and dialed the suicide hotline.

It kept ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

No one picked up. I hung up, then tried again in five minutes. I got through this time. I didn’t take it as a good sign. You know, in general.

I unloaded on the poor woman who answered. Which is, you know, their job, but still. I think I spent five minutes demanding she not find some way to direct cops to my apartment. I’ve told my brother the same thing, if I go to him because I’m having a breakdown. Never call 911. Never risk the cops coming. Never risk the cops deciding the middle-aged depressive is a threat.

The thing is, I knew what was coming. And I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it. And I wasn’t. The only reason I’m still here most days is the thirty-pound lump currently asleep on my foot.

Part of my plans for the day of the election is putting all of the medication I have - iron pills, antidepressants, clonazepam, Midol - in a bag and taking it to my parents’ house. I’ll probably do it in the morning. Stuff the bag under my brother’s bed, text him the next day when I think I’m okay. Maybe text him I’m not, and to keep it a little longer.

All the “glorious revolution” folks who want to start some shit if everything goes wrong again .. I just can’t even. It’s vulnerable people on the chopping block, and people seem just sort of fine with that.

I don’t imagine getting people hurt for whatever delirious fantasy pops into my head. But I do imagine hurting myself. Five and a half years of two jobs and a podcast, no money, no retirement on the horizon, debt up to my earlobes, publishing looking more and more like some silly idea I had once that’s propping up a table somewhere in my apartment. A life I sometimes only barely manage to tolerate for the simple fact that my goofy, chicken-hogging dog needs me. What’s the point? What is the *point*?

Where does the point even go if the next four years do what the other four did?

I sound dramatic. I’m an anxiety sufferer, a disaster podcaster, a writer. Of course I sound dramatic. Ducks are going to quack.

I don’t think I can do this again.

… I mean, pity my therapist, I guess. She’s got to talk to me tomorrow after a month-long break and I am … you know. *gestures at the rest of this post*

#tw suicidality #tw suicidal ideation

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samkerrworshipper · 1 year ago

Text

togetherness | pt.2

longawaited and has been sitting in my drafts for weeks now cause i wasn’t quite sure if i liked the direction it’s gone in… but highliting different issues n stuff so i hope y’all enjoy! again i’ve edited this on my phone whilst reading from my kindle lol so not going to lie i’m aware that the editing could be shocking… there’s a few more parts sitting in my drafts so lmk if y’all want more

warnings: child exploitation, themes of sexual assault of minors, just general hurt with protective n supportive tillies

“Now that we’ve settled that, is there anything, anything at all that you’d like to tell me that I could help you with?”

I gulped, there were about six things I could think of just off the top of my head. I was tentative though. I could feel tears starting to form in the back of my eyes as I tried to make the decision in my head.

“No judgement?”

Sam’s immediate nod in response was comforting and apparently enough to get me talking.

“It’s going to sound stupid and I don’t even know what you could do about it considering that I’m probably somewhere in the wrong with it as well.”

Sam looked like a mixture of intrigued and perplexed.

“Y/n, even if I can’t do anything about it, you look like you just need to get it off your chest, I can be that for you as well, just tell me what’s been bothering you so much.”

I sniffled and nodded at Sam, this situation was so abnormally vulnerable for me.

“You know that I was rough around the edges when I got here, I know you haven’t heard the whole story, to put it simply I went through a rough patch when I was 14 and 15, before I got here. I’d just had spine surgery, I thought that I was never going to walk again, let alone play football. I turned to a lot of things, drugs, alcohol, anything. I ran away when I was 14, I don’t remember much of it, just that when I returned home my parents had had enough and they sent me off to the AIS for Tony to train me. Anyways, I’m rambling. Somewhere along the road I sent some explicit videos, photos and texts to my ex boyfriend, graphic ones, there’s a lot of them. He’s been posting them on reddit and twitter and they haven’t gotten any attention yet but with all the media coverage and bad press I’ve had recently I’m worried they are going to be brought up and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Sam’s expression was one thing, completely deflated and shocked. She was typing furiously into her phone whilst she was listening to my story. It took a few minutes of silence for her to reply to me.

“First off I want to start off with telling you how grateful I am for you sharing that information with me, it can’t have been easy and you are incredibly brave for telling me. I’ve got some follow up questions that I need to ask, you don’t have to answer them, I’d just appreciate it if you could try your best, okay?”

I nodded quickly in reply to Sam.

“Okay. How old were you when you sent these videos and how old was your boyfriend at the time?”

“I was 14 or 15, he was in his mid twenties.”

“So that puts him in his late 20s or early 30s right now, if my maths is correct. Did you take these photos and videos or did someone else?”

“I took most of them but he took some.”

Sam nodded at me again.

“Okay based on that question I can tell you that this ex boyfriend of yours is legally in possession of child pornography, that’s an indictable crime. If you want this to well and truly stop then we can go up that path. I want us to talk about this with Tony, it’s ultimately your decision but I think it would be very sensible to take this up with him at the very least. Y/n, you have done absolutely nothing wrong, I need to stress to you how important it is that you understand that. No one is going to blame this on you, because it isn’t your fault, you are a victim of a crime. That isn’t something light. I promise you that I have your best interests in concern when I’m telling you this. I have to ask, have you talked to anyone else about this? Your family? A therapist? A friend? Leah?”

Leah Williamson, my arsenal team captain and my best friend/mom/girlfriend. I shook my head at Sam, I’d wanted to tell Leah, she was the only person I probably trusted enough to tell but I hadn’t seen her in weeks.

“Do you want to talk to someone about it?”

“I was going to talk to Lee about it, eventually. Just with her ACL and us being in different places it didn’t make much sense, plus this stuff is so fucking stupid I didn’t want to bother anyone with it, I’m sorry for bothering you with it, Ellie was right I’m being fucking selfish.”

Sam’s face was unreadable, it was clear she was pretty deep in thought. She sat across from me for a few minutes, in thought, before she stood up and walked around the table, sitting herself down beside me.

“Can I give you a hug?”

I nodded and relaxed a little bit as I felt Sam’s arm snake its way across my shoulders, inevitably bringing me closer to her and into her chest.

“Williamson would want you to tell her, she’ll probably be mad that you didn’t tell her earlier. You are not being a bother to anyone, you have human emotions and this situation you are in is a hard one. You aren't being selfish, you are asking for help, which is a very human thing and you very clearly need it right now, there is nothing wrong with that. Now, how about I call Williamson for you, I’ll see you if you can get down here? I’m going to call Tony down here, I’ll brief him and he’ll help, okay?”

“I don’t want to tell Tony, he’s going to be mad and he’ll probably tell me this kind of behaviour isn’t wanted on his team and then I’ll get sent home.”

I could feel the material of Sam’s jumper that she must have thrown on after training soaking up my tears, that was embarrassing.

“I know you don’t want to, and I can promise you that Tony is going to be nothing but supportive, you’ve done nothing wrong. There is nothing illegal about what you did, now or then. Tony is not going to send you home, I promise. Now, do I need to call Williamson or can you do it?”

Realistically I probably could have, but I really didn’t want to.

“Can you?”

Sam nodded at me immediately, which comforted me a little bit.

“I wouldn’t have offered it if I couldn’t. She should be in Sydney right now to watch the Lionesses play tomorrow night, yeah? I’ll talk to her and we’ll see what we can work out for you. I don’t have her number though, so can you call her on your phone and I’ll talk to her.”

I nodded quickly, shakingly pulling my phone out of my pocket and pushing it out onto the table. I very quickly pulled Leah's contact, I’d called her last night so it wasn’t hard to find. She was the only person in the world that I could talk to when I was at my lowest, the only person who actually cared about me. So last night, whilst I was mid panic attack, on Ellie's and I’s ensuite floor I called her and she’d talked me through it. I should have told her then, it probably would have saved me this whole interaction with Sam, but I hadn’t wanted to worry her anymore, so I blamed it on pressure of being selected to start this week and she’d accepted my answer.

We’d been texting most of the morning, her asking me if I’d gotten sleep and if I was feeling alright, I’d answered shortly with an array of 'yes', because I didn’t want to worry her anymore. I passed the phone over to Sam once I found her phone number and she clicked the call button before pressing the phone up to her ear and standing up from her seat, starting to pace between the seats.

“Hey Leah, this is Sam, Sam Kerr, from the Matildas. Look, I’m here at our Sydney training facility with Y/n, we’ve just had a pretty serious conversation with her about some problems that she’s had recently and I was wondering if you were around so you could be here for her.”

Sam pulled out her own phone again as I assumed she listened to Leah’s response. It amazed me as to how fast her fingers danced across her own screen, it was a different kind of multi tasking.

“Yup, Mmm. Alright, I’ll send you the address, it’s not far from you guys hotel from recollection. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you being able to do this for her, I’ll see you soon and we can talk about it then.”

I gulped as Sam said her farewells and then hung up the phone before walking back over to me.

“She’s coming down, should be here in fifteen or so. She sounded worried about you, mentioned something about you having a panic attack to her on the phone last night and that she was concerned about you. I’ve texted Tony, he’s finishing up with Ellie and then he’s going to be down here. I’m going to get Steph to meet Leah downstairs when she gets here and she’ll bring her up, Y/n, we’re all here to support you however you need, alright?”

Me and Sam stayed silent in the room until about ten minutes later there was a distinct knock against the door.

“Sam, it’s me, unlock the door.”

Steph’s voice was pretty distinct, even through the heavy door. Sam stood up almost immediately, walking to the door and unlocking it before a grumpy looking Steph and a flustered version of Leah made their way through the doorway before Sam had the opportunity to relock it. Leah’s eyes went straight to my own, her whole facial expression was very controlled, she could command an entire room with that face, I knew from experience.

“Are you okay?”

Her words were directed at me, and only me. I pressed my tongue against my front teeth and lip, trying to decide how to answer the question.

“There’s some stuff that’s been happening that I haven’t told you, I’m not in trouble, or at least that’s what Sam is telling me. It’s some stuff from my past, when I was a kid. Explicit images and photos, on the internet, from when I was a kid. They popped up a few weeks ago, starting when I was in Spain with you before we came here. I didn’t bring it up because I thought I was at fault for it as much as the person who has possession of them. Sam told me that it isn’t, that I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m sorry, I know it was fucking stupid and I should have told you about it or not done it, I don’t even remember taking any of the photos or videos, it just happened and now I don’t know what to do because I don’t want it getting out to the public and I just, I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Leah’s face relaxed a little bit as I progressively talked and rambled. Once I was done she walked over to my spot, seated on one of the chairs and wrapped her arms around me.

“Hey, it’s alright, we’re going to sort this out. She’s right, you didn’t do anything wrong and you should have told me earlier but I am so grateful that you are telling me now, yeah? You are so brave kiddo, that’s child exploitation and whoever has possession of those materials is the one who’s in the wrong, okay?”

I nodded into Leah, Steph and Sam were whispering between each other behind us.

“You have to take legal action though.”

Those words made me feel like I’d been stabbed and my guts had been ripped out of my body cavity.

Leah let go of me very gently and pursed her lips.

“Because this isn’t going to go away if you don’t, and I know that you are strong but you aren’t going to be able to live if you know that this person who has possession of these materials is still out there. You’ve been checked out for weeks now, since before Mallorca. You aren’t going to check back into your life until this goes, I know it. I need you checked in, I need you to be my girl, not the skeleton of your own body that you inhabit as a coping mechanism when something bad happens.”

I think Leah would have said more if it wasn’t for the incessant knocking against the door that came again. Sam was the one who went to the door again, letting Tony in. He looked flustered as well, and a little bit worried. I’d known the man since I was 15, he’d seen me in some pretty interesting situations. Sam intercepted him before he could say anything, pulling him aside and giving him what I assumed to be the rundown of the last hour.

“I don’t think I can handle this getting out, it will, if I take legal action this is going to get out and then I’m going to be Y/n Y/l/n, the Matilda’s exploitative rookie and I’ll never be back here. My career will be over, Jonas won’t want me back, everything I've worked for will be done.”

Leah took a deep breath before wrapping her arms around me and working her hands through my scalp and hair.

“If you take legal action you will be supported, I’ll make sure of it. We are a part of a community of women that uplift us for everything you do, this won’t be any different. There will be some who judge, there is always going to be someone there to judge you. Y/n, you need to do this for your sanity, I won’t lose you to your mental health again, not like last year. Kerr has done the right thing here, bringing this up, it shows me that she cares a lot more about you then you think, it also shows me that she knows what’s best for this team and you. She wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t think this was the best course of action.”

I nodded into Leah, trying to convince myself that her words were correct. Eventually, after Sam had given Tony the full rundown he sat down across from me, exactly where Sam had been beforehand. Sam and Steph both stood behind me and Leah, Sam’s arms resting gently on my shoulders, it was grounding.

“Sam’s told me about what’s happening. First of all I want to say how sorry I am that you are going through this, it’s not something that anyone should have to deal with, ever. Second of all I want to let you know that this team, this whole nation is in support of you. Look, it’s too late for me to take any action now. I’m going to get the police to come down tomorrow morning, you aren’t in trouble. I just think that they are going to have a better understanding of this situation than any of us could. They’ll come down, we’ll have a talk about all of this, they’ll ask the questions they need to. We don’t need to make any decisions now, we’ll talk to them, Sam and I will be there to advocate for you. After that we can make decisions about taking legal action and whatnot. Otherwise I just wanted to tell you genuinely, from the bottom of my heart how much we all care about you and value you here, we are all going to be here for whatever you need in the future, you are a valued part of this team and family and we are all here to look out for your needs, okay?”

I gulped, I could feel fresh tears springing to my eyes again. I was petrified of the police, to say the least, but Tony’s voice was so reassuring. He was the father that I’d never had and when I was 15 and he’d met me I’d been in a bad place, I’d needed him to be that figure in my life and he had been. He gave me a routine, gave me something to wake up for every morning. I probably wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for Tony. He’d given me a chance when no one else had been prepared to and for that I would always be in debt to him for.

“Okay, I’ll get in contact with the police, we’ll get a constable down tomorrow morning and we can have an open conversation with them about it, you are not in trouble, nothing is going to happen that will end in consequences for you. I think though that you need to head back to the hotel and get some proper sleep, your body needs it. So head back, don’t worry about any of this, because I’m going to sort it out and we’ll talk about it in the morning with a clean slate and mindset, alright?”

I nodded at Tony, I didn’t really have much to say.

“Thank you Coach.”

He nodded at me, before standing up and walking around to the other side of the octoval table and giving me a pat on the back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, don’t worry about this anymore, it’s going to be okay. Get back to the hotel, we’ve got an early wakeup tomorrow.”

I nodded at Coach, watching as he left the room just as quickly as he’d entered it.

“I’ve talked to Steph, her and I are rooming together so we’ll switch, she’ll stay with Ellie and you can come and room in with me, I think we’ll keep it that way for the rest of the tournament.”

I looked over at Sam, nodding along with what she was saying. Leah reached her arms around me, a big bear hug.

“And I am here, I expect you to check in with me, at least twice a day. When you guys head off to Melbourne or Brisbane I’m not going to be able to be there, so I need you to stay in contact with me, okay? Anybody does so much as look at you wrong I want to be the first to know, okay?”

I nodded at Leah, half in fear, half in adoration. She was the only person in the world that I actually trusted in. Our bond had been forced, when I’d moved to London to play for Arsenal I’d been moved into the spare room in her apartment and in a very short amount of time we’d created a bond that extended beyond the realm of friendship. I loved her, she was the first person besides Tony to give me a chance and he was obligated to give me on, Leah had chosen to fight for me and to stick by my side even when it wasn’t easy, she was a good person, better than I was sure I’d ever be.

“We’ll drop you back to your hotel on our way home Williamson, it’s the least we could do considering you got here so quickly, can you just give us five minutes to grab our things from the locker room?”

Sam’s voice held no room for argument, she was insisting on giving Leah a ride home and Leah didn’t try to object.

“Please, call me Leah and if it’s no trouble I would really appreciate it. I can meet you guys down in the foyer in about five, I need to go to the loo, so whilst I’m doing that how about you guys go and get your stuff together?”

Sam, Steph and I all walked back down to the change rooms in a comfortable silence. It was when we actually made it back to the rooms that I realised I still had my boots on, the cleats that were spotless from not even getting any wear at training. The cleats that a few hours ago had seemed impossible to tie up. I made quick business of pulling them off of my feet, throwing them into my kit bag and pulling out the pair of Nike dunks that I’d worn in earlier when we’d all come down here for our match analysis. Sam and Steph both made quick work off slipping out of their training kits and changing into sweat pant duos that matched with me. After they’d gotten changed and refreshed we all grabbed our bags and whatever other things we had lying around before making our way down to the foyer.

Leah was waiting for us, tapping her foot violently against the marble floors. When she spotted the three of us out of the corner of her eye her stress ceased almost immediately. I’d learnt a lot about Leah in the amount of time I’d known her. One thing about England’s captain was that she was not as fearless as everyone credited her as being, she put on a brave face, a bloody good one, but she was just as human as everyone else and sometimes it showed, especially when she felt uncomfortable in a situation or she didn’t think she deserved to be where she was. I’d moved in with her initially just before she'd led the Lionesses to their victory at the euro’s, and at the time Leah had been a basket case to be nice. I think that was how we’d bonded, through our similar insecurities of not being good enough to fill the shoes that had been passed down to us.

“C’mon cap, let’s get going.”

Leah smiled at me and nodded. We’d been keeping our relationship under wraps for a few months now. Neither of us were insecure in our situation and we were happy to enjoy our private, happy and blessed life together. Plus we hadn’t really seen much of each other in the past month or so, being caught up with our obligations to our national teams. Leah was also very committed to her rehab and I couldn’t be there for every step of that so we’d spent some time apart. We’d both agreed when the new Arsenal season rolled around that we’d tell the team, but still keep it under wraps from the public for as long as we could. Neither of us were worried about the public finding out, I was out, had been since I was 14. Leah wasn’t officially but she’d also never dated a man and in the eyes of the female soccer world that pretty much means you're gay. It would come out when it did and we were prepared for that to happen.

We walked out to Steph’s car, piling all of our bags in the boot before Sam and Steph slid into the passenger and drivers seats whilst Leah and I both took seats in the backseat. Somewhere along in the drive her hand made its way to my own, resting gently on top of my knee cap. I interlocked our fingers and smiled up at her, this was the part of a secret relationship that I liked, getting moments just between the two of you that only the two of you understood. The sweet nothings. I felt my heart plummet a little bit as we arrived out the front of Leah’s hotel and I realised that I was going to have to say goodbye, potentially for a few more weeks. That was the suckish part of being a professional athlete messing around with another professional athlete, there wasn’t always a timeline on when you’d see each other next, sometimes it was just situational.

I made the call to walk Leah to the door of the hotel, when we got to the doors I gave her a hug, a big, long hug. She hugged me back, tightly. Leah was good at hugs. When we finally had to come apart I looked up at her, with my big green eyes and apparently she couldn’t resist because she reached down and honoured me with a peck. It was nothing more, a small gesture but to me it was everything.

“I love you okay, be safe, text me, call me. I am always here for you, don’t keep me in the dark on things that you think are going to burden me, they aren’t, call your therapist, please.”

I nodded at Leah, she was using her captain's voice with me that she knew I couldn’t refuse.

“When you get back to the hotel I expect you to eat some proper food, not of those bloody granola bars that you insist are nutritional, proper food. Hydrate, at least a litre of water. Sleep, you deserve to sleep, let yourself sleep. Call me in the morning and tell me how you are feeling, okay?”

I gulped and nodded at Leah, an action that I was becoming aware I might have done too much of tonight.

“Love you too, thank you for being here for me.”

“Anytime, I’m only ever one call away, now go home.”

I gave Leah one final look before walking back to the car, closing the door behind me only to be bombarded with googly eyes from the two co captains sitting in the front of the car.

“You and Williamson?”

Sam’s voice was the first one to break the sound barrier, it scared me a little bit.

“Yeah.”

I made it sound like it was a non fact, like every person on the planet knew that I was in the bed sheets of the Lionesses Captain.

“Fuck, I knew it, McCabe owes me fifty quid.”

Steph’s voice was steadier and surprised me a little bit.

“We all had bets, how long have you guys been together?”

“We’ve been dating for 6 or 8 months, fucking around with each other since I joined Arsenal so about a year or so.”

Steph’s eyebrows rose to the top of her forrid, obviously very surprised by my answer.

“You're trying to tell me that you and Lee have just casually been hiding a relationship behind closed doors for months.”

“I mean we’re roommates, it wasn’t that hard to hide, plus we just aren’t rabbits who need to fuck on every surface unlike Sam and fucking Kristie, I’m never going to be able to mentally burn the image of you two getting at it on the pool table after the olympics, that was fucking traumatic.”

Sam’s face had flushed, we constantly brought it up with her. After our bronze loss to the US in the olympics a lot of the team had gone out in celebration with the Americans, what I hadn’t expected to find that night when I’d walked into the room that I thought was the bathroom was Sam eating her secret girlfriend out on the table. It had messed with my brain permanently.

“Hey you're the one who’s always bringing it up, maybe you were secretly into it, secret fantasy between you and Williamson.”

I loudly gagged from my spot in the backseat, extremely displeased by Sam’s imaginative imagery.

“Nobody thinks that Sam, it’s just you and all of your lost brain cells.”

There was something so comfortable about the dynamic between Sam and Steph, something so sisterly and bonded. They were like family, they messed around with each other and pushed each other but they loved each other and the both of them knew that at the end of the day. They might not have been the closest on the team, they weren’t each other's best friends but they were family and that was all that mattered.

“Whatever you say Stephy.”

#woso #woso community #leah williamson #marry me rn #sam kerr #leah williamson x reader #matildas x reader #matildas #tillies #samantha may #sam kerr x reader #tears for fears #crying lil bit #i’m sleep deprived #it’s 12am #idek #idek anymore #idek what to tag this

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scooburst · 14 days ago

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So here’s everything you need to know about the current situation.

My whole phone is on lockdown. I’ve been told when it finally comes back, I’ll have to delete tumblr and discord. Hopefully I can use the website and get around it. My parents are looking at blocking it on my computer as well. I don’t think they can, but thier also monitoring it so I’ll have to be very careful. I have five minutes after 7:00 AM EST to be here before it’s over. Throughout the day, I will be on for one minute twice (two one minute sessions) just to check in. From there I might be able to answer one or two asks and quickly peak at my notifications. I’ll say in the mornings a few things; what happened yesterday, updates on the situation, and if I’m okay. That will be all I’ll be able to post. Sometimes if I have it at night, I’ll come on just to say goodnight or answer a few more asks. But again, it’s only a minute. I’m trying my best to stay calm for this but it’s not going great.

What exactly happened is a bit more complicated. I’ll recount it for you all just so it’s understandable. My parents at some point looked over my computer, which was logged into tumblr and discord, and decided I was talking to complete strangers and being dangerous. Yes I was talking to people online but I was being safe, and I don’t think they’d listen to that. But that isn’t exactly stopping me from talking to those “strangers”. I don’t think my parents really even see you people as humans that are good people. But. You know. I can’t fix that. So now my phone is locked down. I can only text them and one of my friends. I can use the bare essentials. All I know is at some point it’ll be unlocked, and I’ll have to delete these sites. I’ll try to plan for that best I can. But that’s essentially what’s going on.

As for the discord if anyone’s on that. The management of it is being handled by people I trust most there. Use it however you like, and to those two: Do whatever you want with it, but keep it free and open to anyone. All I want is for you all to continue making sure the people there are okay. I will pop in every day and say I’m alive, but really not much else. And yes I will read the messages, as much as I can.

Now that that’s over, onto the newly scheduled post.

Date of writing: 11/1/24

Am I okay: not really, but I’m alive and “healthy”

Things that happened: today, I have a hockey game, and we got evacuated early from school because of bomb threats. At home I kinda just walked around. I played a little bit of guitar, I’ve been listening to music and built legos. I’m doing some puzzles as well. I’m trying to take care of myself to hopefully get my parents to let me back here.

Log: today, I was taking the chance I had to look through my notifications. And I cried. At everything you all wrote to me. I’m going to miss you all so much. You all are such amazing people. I can’t say I didn’t think you’d all say that, but it still caught me off guard. Thanks. I’m glad you all are still going, as far as I know. Keep that going. Dying isn’t good for you! I also saw someone made a whole blog of days without me. That’s insane. I don’t know what to say to that. Hopefully, it doesn’t have to count to high. I’m gonna write your urls all down so I can visit you all when I can finally be back officially. I know this is all probably really confusing with me still responding to things, but it’s just a very complicated situation right now. It sucks tp not have things like this to vent and feel better, but I have started to keep a journal so I can place my thoughts somewhere and I’m going to eventually try to open up to one of my close irl friends to hopefully have someone to talk too. I’m probably never going to just move on from this, it’ll always be something I remember and maybe something that still hurts, but it’s still some of the best memories I’ve ever had even if I cry thinking about it. I’m doing my best here to distract myself, get back into reading, maybe slowly try to build my parents trust that I can handle my phone, even though I could already. But it’s fine. Ive found a lot of entertainment in the photos app recently. Maybe when I come back I’ll share it all with you. Sorry these posts are so long. I’m just trying to stay here as much as I can. But jsut know not to worry, becahse I’m still okay, and I’m alive. Apparently I’m going to be talked to about discord and tumblr. There is some hope I can stay, but we’ll see. Either way im a sneaky boi :)

The last thing I want to say is that whoever made that blog counting how long I’m gone, you are so appreciated. I appreciate all of you really. And all of you who’ve made a post tagging me about whatever experiences you’ve had with me or put it in my askbox, you’ve made me feel so much better about this just knowing I didn’t fuck it up with you. If you didn’t make anything like that, don’t feel obligated to. Just knowing you’re alive is the best thing for me right now. Stay safe, if not for yourself, for me, and if not for me, then for someone else. I’m doing the same for all of you.

ALSO! Ima probaly make a tag list for this so you can get this as soon as possible! I know this is almost becoming a newsletter but hey that works. So if you wanna be on it, just say so (preferably in a reply or reblog to this post, with nothing but that you want in, separate from any comments about the post itself. It helps!)

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possumdrawsstuff · 4 months ago

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THAT SCAR REF SHEET I WAS TALKING ABT FOR JIM!

all of these r based off stuff that happened in canon, if you think I’ve missed any cool opportunities then feel free to point them out! I add them because I believe that while they probably couldn’t have been included in the show for the pg rating and some of the ways he would’ve gained them being somewhat violent (even for trollhunters). I feel they add to his character and in how they would grow over time show how he would gain more and more experience as a trollhunter, yet also gaining more and more pressure and experiences that are probably not the best on jim mentally.

(Ps. I have no lightning scars In my design because lichtenberg scars, while cool looking, don’t usually last)

(Ps ps, the model I used to plan them out is from sketch fab somewhere but as I had originally not made this to post I didn’t save it, if anybody knows the creator, or is the creator, feel free to hit me up and I’ll credit you in the post.

ANYWAY MOVING ON TO THE SCARS AND MY SILLY LITTLE REASONS FOR THEM BEING THEREEE!

This is prolly gonna be angsty but I have an angsty ao3 background (to whoever read my Peter Parker nwh fic yall know ,and I am sorry I haven’t updated lol)

face/ eyebrow scar: I love that they gave him a scar in the movie, however, I didn’t like how it looked very much, especially with how he got it. I mean ARRRGHHH! Literally punched him so hard (love him Frfr but bro was not messing around even w Jim) that stone on stone had enough force to scratch some off of his face, this is why I usually make it look messier and more like scratchy scars rather than the clean cut from wizards/the unspeakable movie

2. GOBLIN/GENERAL SCARS: ok y’all I haven’t seen many other people do these but they are ver important to me 😌. Just scars from sparring could be all of these, the heroes forge has literal flying axes like ?? and in earlier seasons he didn’t always have his armor on or have a helmet at his disposal so I think he would to have had to have been nicked pretty good at least once or twice. Then there’s the goblin scars, In my version they told Barbara that it was racoons that got him , but the idea is that for Jim to have landed in the hospital he must have been hurt pretty badly that night, so, I would imagine that even while facing nomura Jim was fighting against the effects of blood loss also.

3.Angor rot: if you couldn’t tell by the photo it doesn’t show up in this! HOWEVER in my silly little side project (I’m sure some of you can probably guess what it is and if you can’t, idk look at some of my reblogs and you’ll probably find it, BUT! because it takes place after canon (yes including the movie) but also has some crunchy plot twisting In the background, the angry rot man face thing (I cant remember the name of it right now for the life of me please) will show up whenever he comes near to Jim, even if time is messed up, angor rot is back and technically hasn’t died yet so yes Jim gets the spoopy glowy thing.

4.amulet scar: idk if anybody remembers but when the arcane order took Jim’s amulet, he got scars from it right? It can be seen on his beast design is all of the tendrils leeching out from the indent of the amulet, my thinking is if his human form also got scarred by ARRGHHH! Why didn’t this scar translate too? Then again it could’ve but Jim is obviously a big fan of blue jacket*tm* so we will never know, I think he did but idk 🤷‍♀️

5.Bellroc- HEY SO ANYBODY REMEMBER WHEN BELLROC LITERALLY IMPALES JIM ON HER FLAMING STAFF!?! AND HE JUST KEPT GOING AFTER GETTING THE ARMOR!?! LIKE HE DIDNT JUST GET IMPALED? (This is partly why I think he gets like an adrenaline rush magic thingy as seen in some fic i read at some point PLEASE TELL ME IF ITS YOUR FIC I LOST IT PLEASE) YA that’s gonna leave a mark! the wound I’m guessing instantly cauterized so while yes it would hurt really bad I take that as why he was just running around after the armor.

6.burnt hand, another thing that happened in the movie but didn’t really get wrapped up in the end, Jim burnt his left hand on the gaggletac (idk how to spell it) and it just stayed bandaged for the rest of the movie, so it is also included on this list

7.back scars from bular: this one is probably the stretchiest one in this list but I think that it would have been an AMAZING addition to the plot character development wise. In one scene we see bular literally crushing and sliding Jim up the bridges interior wall and Jim is literally like silently screaming in this scene (thank you Guillermo /im sad for my son) and I like to think that after rushing over and doing Romeo and Juliet, Jim got off stage, practically ran over some people trying to get home because he can feel it, the whole play. This gives him some insight on the dangers of troll hunting. Yes I know this was a lesson beforehand but this is in the arc along with the goblins where Jim is learning he’s going to have to make personal sacrifices to keep up this troll hunting thing, including his mental health probably , it will serve as a very physical reminder of the constant danger he is now and will probably forever be in (in case y’all couldn’t tell that I’ve watched Spider-Man nwh like 8 times I’m out for blood on this one)

8.face scar from morgana: slinging the mood back around and also calling back to the “scars gained while Jim is a troll also get applied to his human form”, in like one of the last episodes maybe 2nd to last or the very last one in the final battle with morgana, she scratches Jim’s cheek with a throwing dagger and from what I can remember I thought it actually stayed on his face throughout the end of the series, I could be deluxe but I still like to add it for some reminder of the OG final battle.

not mentioned here- little pit in the amulet indention from the dark shard, and various scars from the dark lands.

if you read that entire rant I’m sorry , enjoy!

#jim lake jr fanart #jim lake junior #jim lake jr #tales of arcadia fanart #trollhunters toa #trollhunters tales of arcadia #trollhunters fanart #wizards tales of arcadia #tales of arcadia #rise of the titans #wizards toa #Toa Rise of the titans #tales of arcadia propaganda #jlaire #troll jim #beast jim #whump #angst #possumart

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faithinthekindness9194 · 15 days ago

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Hey guys,

I managed to finally listen to the boys music on Wednesday… I was out in the car and put on their playlist but I didn’t cry, I didn’t feel anything. I just felt numb.

I sang along but not to have fun or because I was happy but because I always sing along. No matter how I’m feeling.

I feel so bad for just being numb. It still hasn’t sunk in that it’s been 2 weeks. I miss Liam more than anything. He was the first member of One Direction that I fell in love with. I knew Liam’s Grandad through my auntie. She is a hairdresser and cut his hair. I had weekly conversation with him about Liam and the boys. He was so proud of him, you could tell every time I spoke to him. I never got chance to meet him but the conversations were enough. I managed to send Liam a drawing and a birthday card to which he tweeted and followed me. It made me feel a little closer to him even though I didn’t know Liam.

My heart is still so broken that he’s no longer on this earth. He shouldn’t have gone so soon. The boys have saved my life so many times and in so many ways. I probably wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for them, my depression and anxiety wouldn’t be as calm as it is if it wasn’t for them. I’m 27 and still as obsessed and in love with them as I was at 14/15.

Liam,

I am heartbroken that you are no longer with us. I feel numb. You need to know how much you are loved. The whole world loved you for your impeccable talent and your limitless kindness. You lit up this world in so many ways for so many people. You were an incredible person and didn’t deserve the hate and rumours you had to live through. You meant so much to me and so many others around the world. I hope you can see how much we all love you. You made the world a better place, with your smile and personality.

I feel for your family, friends, girlfriend, the boys and especially for your son. Bear will grow up forever remembering what an amazing and talented person his father was. We will never let anyone forget you.

I hope that wherever you are you are now at peace and happy. You deserved the world Liam and it failed you. I can’t believe that we couldn’t save you when you had saved so many of us. I’m so sorry that we let you down, you didn’t deserve it. You deserved so much more than what life dealt you. So from the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry.

I will never forget you and everything you brought to the world. Stay happy up there Liam, you deserve it. I love you so much Liam and I hope you’re now who you’re meant to be.

Sleep tight and rest in peace Payno.

I send you love and hugs, forever our Daddy Direction.

(I’m sorry for the long post but I need somewhere to write how I feel. I’ve spent 2 weeks trying to put into words how I feel and although this is all I can say at this moment in time, I feel like I’m able to write and help myself and hopefully others. If anyone ever needs anyone to talk to my DMs and Ask Box is always open.)

#one direction #liam payne #rip liam payne #liam james payne #liamslaw #rip #rest in peace

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jrob64 · 4 months ago

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Ghosted

Chapter 2 - All-Nighter

Thank you for the great response to this story! I'm very happy to be able to post chapter 2 somewhat quickly. Chapter 3 is more than halfway written, so you shouldn't have to wait long for it either. I still don't know if it will be the final chapter, or if there will be one more after that.

A big thank you and long-distance hugs to my wonderful beta @hookedmom; the people responsible for the fantastic pic set @kmomof4 & @motherkatereloyshipper; and my fellow mods of the CSSNS24 @ultraluckycatnd, @stahlop, @winterbaby89 & @kmomof4. You're all very special to me!

DISCLAIMER: All I know about ghost hunting is what I've watched on Ghost Adventures and a bit of research I did. I also know next to nothing about how YouTube works, so please excuse all errors. Keep in mind that this is fanfic and isn't meant to be completely accurate!

SUMMARY: When Emma Swan’s ex-boyfriend dies, she’s haunted by his ghost. Her neighbor, Killian Jones, a ghost hunter who has a YouTube channel, realizes what’s happening and offers to help. However, there’s more at stake than simply helping the apparition move on. There’s also the matter of Killian telling Emma he’s in love with her.

Rating: T (subject to change)

Words (chapter 2): 7238

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

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Killian didn’t see Emma for the next two days, and since she hadn’t called him, he assumed she didn’t have any more encounters with Neal Cassidy’s ghost. When he finally ran into her in the hallway, he was immediately concerned.

She looked pale and had dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t been getting enough sleep. It was understandable, of course. Anyone who witnessed a paranormal apparition firsthand was almost guaranteed to have trouble sleeping.

He called out a greeting to her and she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Swan, are you okay?” he asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I…I’m just tired, I guess,” she answered listlessly.

“Have you…has he been…”

“No sign of Neal,” she quickly interrupted. “And I haven’t had that feeling of being followed. But every time I try to sleep, I have nightmares that seem to go on and on. I can’t wake up, no matter how hard I try.”

He stepped closer. “What sort of nightmares? Are you able to remember them when you finally do wake up?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I just hear…whispers I guess, for lack of a better word. It’s like I’m weighed down by something and these voices are mumbling all around me. I can’t see any faces or bodies. I want to move or open my mouth to scream, but it’s like I’m…a hostage or something. I feel like I’m tied up and gagged, completely helpless.”

Killian pressed his lips into a thin line and eyed her warily. He knew what was probably going on, but he was a bit unsure of her reaction. “Emma, would you be willing to let me use my equipment to monitor your apartment at night?”

“Why? I told you I haven’t had any sense of Neal being around.”

“Spirits haunt people in a variety of ways. You experienced Cassidy actually appearing to you, then I could sense he was surrounding you with his aura,” he explained carefully. “I suspect he’s coming to you in your dreams, now. If you’ll allow me to set up my equipment in your apartment, I’d be able to determine if he’s doing that.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You mean you want to sit and watch me sleep all night? That’s a little creepy.”

“And being haunted by a ghost isn’t?” he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

She scoffed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“We wouldn’t need to be in the same room with you. We can set up the equipment and monitor it from somewhere else in your apartment, which is a better way to do it anyhow. If he is coming to you in your sleep, having us in the same room might be a deterrent.”

“Wait a minute,” she said. “What do you mean by ‘we’ and ‘us’? I thought your channel was called ‘Killian Jones: Ghost Hunter’. No one else is mentioned.”

“Ah, so you have heard of my channel,” he smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard of it, I just don’t watch it.”

“Point taken. Anyway, to answer your question, my assistant, Will Scarlett, will be there, too. We do all-nighters together. That way, the equipment can be monitored more closely…and we can keep each other awake.”

“Oh, okay,” Emma sighed. “But I wanna meet this Scarlett guy first. I’m not exactly comfortable having a complete stranger in my home, while I’m sleeping.”

“I understand. You don’t have to worry about Will, though. He’s madly in love with Belle, my technical director, although he hasn’t worked up the courage to tell her yet.” He felt slightly guilty ratting out his friend like that, when he himself couldn’t admit his feelings to the woman of his dreams, either.

“Will she be involved in this…what did you call it?”

“An all-nighter. Belle won’t be there that night. Her job is to edit and post the videos.”

“I might have to meet her, too. If you record me with severe bedhead and drool dripping all over my pillow, I’d like to have an ally who would edit it out.”

He chuckled. “No worries, Swan. We do our best not to show the people who are experiencing the hauntings, unless they give us written permission.”

“That’s a relief. When do you want to do this ‘all-nighter’?”

“I just have to make a phone call. It could be as soon as tonight, if that’s convenient for you.”

“My apartment is a bit of a mess,” she admitted. “Maybe we should do it after I’ve had a chance to clean it up.”

“Actually, in our experience, spirits are more likely to visit when the place they hang around is in its natural state. We’re not sure why, but I suspect that altering it in any way makes them uncomfortable and suspicious.”

“In that case, maybe if I keep it spotless, Neal will never come back.” She paused and thought about it for a few seconds, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, who am I kidding? There’s no way I’d be able to do that. You’ve seen my place. I’m a slob.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re a slob, Love. Your apartment simply looks…lived in,” he cheeked, a smirk on his face.

He was happy he was able to make her laugh. “Okay, Killian. If your assistant is available, let’s do it tonight.”

For a moment, he imagined her saying those exact words under very different circumstances…and without mentioning his assistant. Shaking his head slightly to dislodge those thoughts, he replied, “Sounds good. I’ll call Will and see if he’s available. When will you be home?’

“I’m just going out to buy a new coffee maker, so I should be back in about an hour. I work until ten tonight. Will that be too late?”

“Not at all. Text me when you get back, then Will and I will bring over the equipment, so we can get everything set up. Will that work?”

“Sure.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I…I don’t know if it’s Neal causing my nightmares, but I can tell you I’m ready for them to stop. What will you do if you discover it’s because of paranormal activity?”

“We’ll try to pick up on clues to figure out why he’s still hanging around - and, if possible, his motivation and intentions. Then all of us, including you, can work together to come up with a plan for getting him to move on.”

“I would really appreciate that. It gives me the heebie-jeebies thinking he’s in my home and hovering around me while I sleep.” She shivered involuntarily at the thought.

He reached out and took hold of both of her shoulders. “It’s going to be alright, Love. We have a pretty good track record. It’s not going to happen overnight, but with a little time, I have confidence we’ll rid you of his spirit once and for all.”

She gave him a tired smile. “Thanks, Killian.” With a wave, she turned and walked toward the stairwell.

Killian watched her until she disappeared, then went into his apartment, where he pulled out his phone to call his assistant.

“What’s up, boss?” Will answered.

“I hope you don’t have any plans tonight, because we’ve got an all-nighter lined up.”

“That’s a bit last minute, don’t ya think, Mate? I could have meself a hot date.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“What makes you so sure?” Will huffed.

“Because you would never ask anyone out besides Belle, and when it comes to her, you’re a fucking coward.”

“Says the bloke who won’t ask blondie out. Speakin’ of which, might this all-nighter be for her?”

Killian closed his eyes with a groan. He shouldn’t have goaded his friend about Belle, because now he would have to worry about Will embarrassing him in front of Emma. If he did, chances of the all-nighter happening might go down the drain, along with any chance of Emma going out with him.

“Aye, it is,” Killian admitted. “But listen Will, please don’t mention anything to her about…”

“How yer madly in love with her?”

“Will…”

“Don’t worry, boss. My lips are sealed.”

“If only that were true,” Killian muttered.

“What time should I be there tonight?”

“Actually, I need you to come over as soon as you can. Emma stepped out for about an hour, but she wants to meet you when she gets back.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re a stranger who is going to be staying in her apartment all night, so she wants to at least make your acquaintance beforehand.”

“Makes sense. Be warned though, she might take one look at me and swoon at my feet.”

“I’m willing to take my chances,” Killian deadpanned. “Just be over here as soon as you can.”

“Fine,” Will sighed theatrically. “Give me time to pack my jammies and toothbrush.”

“Don’t forget your teddy bear,” Killian chuckled. Will was a goofball, but he was a great assistant and a very good friend, and he couldn’t imagine ghost hunting without him.

*********

A little over an hour later, Killian’s phone buzzed with a text from Emma telling him she was home. He stood and nudged Will’s feet off of the coffee table. “Grab the camera and computer bags. I’ll get the rest of the equipment.”

“Blondie’s home, I take it?” Will said, pushing himself up from the couch.

Killian turned to give him a disgruntled look. “Please be respectful. She’s not really sold on this all-nighter idea and I don’t want her to change her mind.”

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” Will assured him, adjusting the straps of the bags on his shoulder. “I’m looking forward to meeting this lass, after everything you’ve told me about her.”

Killian led the way out of the apartment to Emma’s place next door. Will stood slightly behind him as he knocked.

“Hey,” Emma greeted, her eyes bouncing between her neighbor and his friend.

“Emma, this is my assistant, Will Scarlett. Will, Emma Swan,” Killian introduced.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Swan,” Will said, reaching around Killian to offer her his hand.

“You, too,” she replied, firmly shaking it. “Come on in.”

After she turned around, Will bumped his shoulder into Killian. When he turned around, Will cast his eyes toward Emma, then gave him an exaggerated wink. Killian shot him a quick warning look before following Emma into her apartment.

“Have a seat,” she said, gesturing toward her sofa, as she settled herself in the recliner. “So, Will, how long have you known Killian?”

“Oh, we’ve been mates since secondary school in Brighton. Ain’t that right, Kil?”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “We’ve known each other for a dozen years or so.”

“Lost touch for a coupla years when he moved across the pond, but then he called me in desperation when he started his ghost hunting career.”

“I wasn’t desperate,” Killian corrected. “I just needed an assistant and, since you weren’t doing anything else…”

“I wasn’t doin’ nothin’,” Will protested. “I was a lorry driver.”

“Lorry?” Emma questioned.

“It’s a large truck,” Killian explained. “And Will was never a great driver.”

“Oi! I resent that remark!”

“Is that what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?” Killian challenged.

“No,” Will admitted, “but I wasn’t a bad driver, I’ll have you know.” Turning his attention back to Emma, who was listening to the exchange with an amused look on her face, he said, “Anyway, he explained his idea for a paranormal investigation channel, and since that’s somethin’ that’s always interested me, I was onboard.”

“Killian tells me you also have a technical director as part of the team.”

“Aye, that would be the lovely Belle French,” Will said, his eyes lighting up and a wide, goofy grin stretching across his face. “Killian met her at the library where he was always doing research. She doesn’t travel with us, just does the editing and posting.”

Emma exchanged a knowing look with Killian, clearly able to see and hear Will’s admiration of Belle. Glancing at the bag at Killian’s feet, she asked, “What kind of equipment will you be using tonight?”

“Will has a video camera, digital camera and two laptops,” Killian said, pointing to the bags Will had sitting beside him. “And in here, I have a digital voice recorder, infrared thermometer, spirit box, geophone, which is a vibration sensor, and the EMF detector you saw the other day.”

“All that stuff will detect ghosts?”

“And hopefully record any visual or audio anomalies,” Killian explained.

“You forgot to mention the flux response device,” Will threw in. “That allows us to ask spirits yes or no questions. If they answer yes, the green light comes on; if it’s no, it’ll be the red light. Provided they answer at all, that is.”

“Wow, the whole process seems pretty complicated,” Emma commented.

“All you have to do is fall asleep, Swan,” Killian said. “We’ll handle the rest.”

“So, uh, where do you need to set things up, then?”

Killian rubbed his finger behind his ear. “Some of the equipment will need to go in your bedroom.”

“Okay. Mi casa es su casa,” she said, standing up to lead the way to her bedroom.

As the guys figured out where to set everything up, Emma straightened her bedding and picked up a stray sock to toss it into a hamper. “So, how does this work exactly? Will you wake me up if I start having a nightmare?”

“That would defeat the purpose,” Killian replied. “If Cassidy is coming to you while you’re asleep, we want to capture that activity and hopefully be able to communicate with him. Once the sun peaks over the horizon, we’ll pack everything up and leave your apartment. It will take us a while to watch and listen to our devices and decipher all the data, but once we do, we’ll contact you to go over the results.”

“How long will that take?” Emma asked.

Killian pursed his lips in thought. “Anywhere from a few hours to a day or two, depending on how much we’re able to collect.”

“Belle helps us with all of that decipherin’ and analyzin’ stuff, too,” Will said.

“Do you, um, would I be allowed to see and hear everything?”

“Absolutely,” Killian assured her. “If you are being haunted, you have every right to know what’s going on.”

“I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty interested in what you’re doing, now that you’ve explained it.”

“Does that mean you’ll start watching my channel?” Killian cheeked.

“Depends on whether you’re successful in getting Neal to move on…if it’s actually him.”

“Ah, so no pressure then.”

Emma shrugged, a coy smile on her lips. “You said you guys were good at what you do.”

“We are, but we can’t guarantee results. Every case we’ve worked has been different,” Killian explained. “We have been able to make contact with spirits in the majority of them, but in a few others, we didn’t find any proof of paranormal activity. If we are able to establish a connection, the person being haunted has to help encourage the spirit to move on. Do you think you would be able to do that, if and when the time comes?”

She shrugged again, the smile from earlier gone. “I’d like to say I will, but I guess I won’t really know until then.”

“Fair point. Let’s just hope we get some results.”

“What happens if he doesn’t show up tonight?” she asked.

“If there’s no paranormal activity tonight, we’ll leave the equipment set up to try again another night. It may take several all-nighters to capture activity, or it may happen right away - you just never know. Plus, that way we’ll be ready if you get the feeling he’s here. In any case, we’ll keep trying until we collect something, or until you feel like he’s moved on.”

“Would you mind laying down?” Will asked. “I want to focus this in the general vicinity.” He had the video camera mounted on a tripod aimed at her bed.

Emma hesitated a moment before moving to the bed to sit down. “I still say it’s gonna be really weird trying to sleep with you guys watching me.”

“We’ll be in the living room, using the laptops to monitor what the equipment is recording. If nothing is going on, we’ll stay in there,” Killian assured her. “If we detect something, we’ll bring the flux response device in here and try to communicate with him.”

She lay down on the right side of the bed, closest to the door. “This is where I start out, but I can’t promise that’s where I’ll stay. I’ve always been a bit of a restless sleeper.”

Will fiddled with the camera while Killian set the voice recorder on the nightstand beside Emma’s bed. “We’ll turn these on when you go to bed. They have enough battery and storage to run all night.”

“Although,” Will stated, “sometimes the spirits have been known to drain batteries very quickly.”

“We’ll be able to see if that’s happening, too. The laptops have readouts from all of the equipment.”

They finished setting everything up as Emma sat on the edge of the bed watching them. Every now and then, Killian made eye contact with her, noticing her trepidation. Each time, he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

When things were arranged to their satisfaction, Will grabbed the empty bags off the floor and they all left the bedroom.

“So, uh, I guess I’ll text you when I get home from work?” Emma asked.

“Aye. As soon as you let us know, we’ll come over,” Killian said.

“In that case, I’ll make sure I’m ready for bed before I send the text. What will you guys do until I get back?”

“We generally sleep the day away when we’ve got an all-nighter, ain’t that right, Kil?” Will said.

Killian nodded. “It doesn’t pay to be tired while we’re working, and the following day, we’re usually very excited to go through everything we collected.”

“That makes sense,” Emma said. “I’ll plan on seeing you tonight around ten-thirty, then.”

They bid her goodbye and returned to Killian’s apartment. As soon as the door was closed, Will clapped his friend on the back. “I can see why yer in love with her, Mate. She’s lovely.”

“I never said I was in love with her,” Killian corrected, moving into the living room to plop down on the couch. “I just…fancy her.”

Will scoffed. “Semantics. I saw how you was lookin’ at her.”

“Was it similar to the way you look at Belle?” Killian smirked.

“Do ya always have to bring that up?” Will grumbled.

Killian sighed. “Let’s face it. We’re both besotted fools who are too spineless to do anything about it.”

“Let’s make a pact. When this is all over with Emma’s ghost problem, we’ll both work up the courage to ask our fair ladies out.”

Killian got up and went into the kitchen, returning with two bottles of water. Handing one to Will, he said, “I need to wait and see how things turn out for Emma. If this is too traumatizing for her, I’m not going to complicate things further by asking her out. That doesn’t mean you can’t date Belle, though. I think you two would be great together.”

Will unscrewed the cap and took a quick drink. “I’ll think about it. Now, let’s order some pizza so we can eat and then get some sleep.”

*********

Killian could tell Emma was nervous when she answered the door that evening, clad in a tank top and shorts, her hair up in a loose bun.

“Sorry it took me so long to text you,” she apologized. “It was really busy at work tonight, so I wanted to take a quick shower.”

“No problem, Swan. We’re not in a hurry and we want you to be relaxed.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible, knowing that I might have a starring role in the next ‘Poltergeist’ movie.”

Killian moved closer to squeeze her hand. “What do you usually do to unwind when you get home from work?”

“Watch an episode or two of a show. Sometimes I have a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Doesn’t that have caffeine in it?” Will asked.

“Yeah, but I find that it relaxes me before I go to bed.”

“Just go about your routine and try to forget about us being here,” Killian advised.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like I would be able to do that.” She rubbed the back of her neck with both hands, rolling her head from side to side.

“Would a massage help?” Killian asked.

“That would actually be really nice,” she affirmed.

Killian stepped behind her and began to massage her shoulders. Dropping her head forward, she groaned, “God, that feels good. Can you keep doing that for about an hour?”

Inhaling her fresh scent and feeling her skin under his hands was making him struggle internally. Her skin was so soft, he just wanted to lean down and kiss her lovely neck. Instead, he cleared his throat and chuckled. “I’d be happy to, Love.” He glanced up and frowned at Will, who was giving him a shit-eating grin.

After a few more minutes of kneading Emma’s back and shoulders, he felt her begin to relax. “Do you want Will to make the hot chocolate for you?” he asked.

“No, thanks. I don’t make it from those packets. I do it the old-fashioned way with milk, cocoa and sugar, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon.”

“What makes you think I don’t know how to make it like that?” Will asked, sounding offended.

“Do you?” Emma asked.

“No,” he admitted, “but that don’t mean I can’t try.”

“I’ve seen his attempts at cooking,” Killian said. “I’d keep him away from your kitchen if I were you.”

“It’s always ‘pick on Will day’, innit?” he groused.

Emma laughed. “Do you guys want a cup, too?”

“Yes, please,” Killian said. “How about you, Scarlett?”

“No, thanks. I brought a coupla bottles of Mountain Dew with me.”

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting in the living room, sipping their beverages and watching a show of Emma’s choosing. Halfway through the second episode, Killian looked over to see her dozing off in the recliner.

“Swan,” he said quietly.

“Hmm?”

“I think it’s time you went to bed.” He stood up and took the empty cocoa mug from her lax hand.

She looked up at him, blinking slowly. “Yeah,” she yawned. “I guess it is.”

“G’night, Emma,” Will called as she began stumbling toward her bedroom.

“Night, Will. Good luck with your ghost hunting,” she said, pulling the band from her hair to let it fall loosely down her back.

Killian handed Will the mug, asking him to put it in the kitchen sink, then followed Emma into her bedroom. She settled under the covers as he switched on all of the equipment. When he was finished, he couldn’t resist pulling the sheet up over her bare shoulder. “Sweet dreams, Emma.”

“I thought the purpose of this was for me to have a nightmare,” she murmured, her eyes already closed.

He gently brushed some strands of hair away from her face. “I would be much happier if you never had another one.”

Her lips turned up in a small smile. “Thanks, Killian. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Love.”

Will had the laptops set up by the time Killian got back out to the living room. He picked one up and took it with him to the recliner Emma had vacated, while Will hunched over the other one on the coffee table.

Two hours of silence passed before they saw the temperature begin to drop on the thermometer readout. They both sat up straighter, eyes scanning the data from the other equipment. The grainy image from the video recorder showed Emma making small, jerky movements. As they watched and listened, their instruments indicated paranormal activity going on in her bedroom.

After another ten minutes, they met each other’s eyes across the dimly lit room. “This is a fucking goldmine,” Will commented.

Killian nodded grimly. He hadn’t taken into consideration how much it would affect him to see Emma in the throes of a nightmare. As he sat in this room, watching her thrash about and listening to her whimpers through the video camera, all he wanted to do was go to her, take her in his arms and comfort her.

Grabbing the flux response device, he told Will, “I’m going to go see if I can get him to answer any questions.”

Will continued to watch his laptop screen intently, his mind nearly blown at everything he saw and heard. This was definitely one of the most successful all-nighters they had ever conducted.

*********

By the time Emma awoke the next morning, she felt like she had been in a boxing match all night, and noticed the guys and all of their equipment were gone. She assumed it meant they had documented paranormal activity, which was confirmed when she found a note on her coffee table from Killian telling her that they were able to gather some good information, and that he would be in touch with her later that day.

As she sat at her kitchen table drinking a large mug of coffee, she was a bit surprised when her phone lit up with a call from Ruby. Her friend usually didn’t contact her until her workday was over at the police station, and it was almost always via text.

“Hey, Ruby. What’s up?” Emma asked, her voice sounding exhausted, even to her own ears.

“I’ve got news I thought you’d be interested in hearing.”

“Has another ex of mine been arrested?”

Ruby ignored the question. “They began an investigation into Neal’s death because during the autopsy, they discovered marks around his throat that weren’t made by the bedsheet.”

Emma sat up straighter in her chair. “What kind of marks?”

“Handprints.”

Emma gasped. “They think someone killed him?”

“It’s been ruled a homicide. They suspect the crime lords he was selling drugs for may be involved somehow. Probably wanted to shut him up before he started blabbing about them in jail.”

“Oh, wow. I tried to tell him he was an idiot for being in cahoots with those people. He was convinced he would work his way up the ladder in the organization to be one of the top guys. I knew nothing good would come of it.”

“You were smart to break it off with him. Otherwise, they might have come after you.”

A chill ran down Emma’s spine. “You don’t think they will, do you?”

“Nah, it had been over a year since you guys were together when he was arrested. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about, except that the ghost of my dead ex is haunting me, Emma thought. “Thanks for the info, Ruby. If you find out anything else, please let me know.”

“Will do. I better get back to work. My break is almost over. Talk to you later.”

They ended the call and Emma sat looking at her phone. Was Neal’s unfinished business proving that he was killed? If so, why was he hanging around her instead of somebody who could actually do something about it?

She yawned widely, wondering again what Killian and Will were able to capture.

*********

As soon as they got back to Killian’s apartment, he and Will went into his office and began going through the audio and video recordings, along with other data they collected. Will uploaded the photos taken at regular increments in Emma’s bedroom so they could study them more closely on the larger computer screen.

Belle arrived mid-morning to help. They listened to the white noise collected by the spirit box, trying to decipher voices or words that may have been recorded.

“There’s so much information here,” she commented. “This apparition is clearly trying to communicate with…what’s her name again?”

“Emma Swan,” Killian answered quickly.

“How long have you been neighbors?”

“Five years or so.” He could feel the redness creeping up his neck and into his face, as Belle scrutinized him.

“And this is the woman you’ve um, how did Will put it? Been crushing on for years?”

“She’s just a friend,” Killian said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Pfft,” Will scoffed. Killian glared at him.

“Sounds like you hope to be much more than friends, Killian,” Belle commented.

He rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to meet her eyes. “Can we just get back to business, please? I would like to share our findings with Emma today, if possible.”

Belle studied him for a few moments, a smug smile on her face, but she let the matter drop.

They continued analyzing the data, replaying the recordings over and over as they discussed what they heard and saw.

“Did you get any useful information from the flux?” Belle asked.

Killian shook his head. “I only got one response, and that was to my first question - are you Neal Cassidy? The answer was ‘yes’.”

“Well, at least you got confirmation of that,” Belle commented. “It’s better than nothing.”

His phone buzzed on the table and he picked it up to see a text notification from Emma.

E: I know I’m supposed to wait for your call, but I’m a bit anxious. Are you awake? I’m really curious about what went on last night.

Killian glanced up from his screen to see Will and Belle looking at him. “She wants to know what we found.”

“We can share what we’ve deciphered so far,” Will said. “I don’t think I can stay awake to do much more. I’m knackered.”

“Agreed,” Killian said, tapping on his phone to respond to Emma.

Within five minutes, there was a knock on his door and he left the room to answer it. Emma stood on the other side, her lower lip pulled between her teeth, clearly on edge.

Without stopping to think, Killian reached out to take her hand, pulling her to him. To his surprise and relief, she went into his arms willingly, where she fit against him perfectly.

“Are you alright, Love?” he murmured into her hair.

“Did you find any reason for me not to be?”

He hesitated a moment, unsure quite how to tell her. “He…Neal…it seems he is coming to you at night, invading your dreams.”

She pulled back and looked at him. Seeing the utter helplessness and shock on her face, his heart sank. “How am I ever gonna be rid of him?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Tucking her back against his chest, he said, “We’ll figure it out. I won’t give up until we do.”

“Hey, boss. Me and Belle just found…oh, sorry!” Will’s voice came from behind them, causing them to pull away from each other.

Before turning to look at his friend, he studied Emma for a few more seconds. The look on her face was one of weariness and fright, and he knew he would do whatever it took to make that look disappear for good.

Not caring that he would probably get a good ribbing about it later from Will, Killian leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to Emma’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re up to seeing and hearing what we collected last night?” he whispered.

“Is it going to traumatize me?” she asked, trepidation clear in her tone.

He brushed a wisp of hair behind her ear. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Love - it’s not going to be easy. But if we can figure out Neal’s unfinished business, we have a good chance of getting him to move on. Since you knew him well and we didn’t, your input could be invaluable in making that happen.”

“I know,” she sighed. Then, lifting her chin, a determined look came over her face and she set her jaw. “I can do it.”

“That’s my tough lass,” Killian said, hoping she took it as a compliment and didn’t question the sentiment behind it.

He stepped out of the doorway, allowing her to pass by him into the apartment. With his hand on the small of her back, he guided her to the office, Will following behind.

When they entered the room, Belle swiveled in her seat and stood with a smile on her face. “You must be Emma,” she said, her hand outstretched in greeting. “I’m Belle, the technical director.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Belle,” Emma replied, shaking her offered hand. “Killian and Will have told me a lot about you.”

“All good, I hope.”

“O’ course,” Will said. “There’s nothin’ bad to say about ya.”

Emma and Killian shared an amused look, as Belle resumed her seat.

Will sat in the chair beside Belle, while Killian rolled the last one over for Emma, then stood behind her. “Bring up the photos first, please.”

Belle hit some keys on the computer keyboard and they all focused on the oversized monitor. A gallery of pictures popped up and with a click of the mouse, Belle selected one which filled the screen.

“You remember how we covered the mirror on the back of your door and everything else that would reflect light?” Killian asked. Emma nodded, and he continued, “We wanted to be able to debunk any light anomalies that could have been caused by reflections. The door was closed and your bedroom was completely dark, yet you can see these orbs of light in several photos.”

He leaned over Emma’s shoulder to point out the bright spots on the screen, as Belle brought up one picture after another. “We can also rule out dust specks because these aren’t consistent with the characteristics of dust…”

“And there isn’t any dust in my super clean apartment,” Emma remarked, tongue-in-cheek.

“Right. That, too,” Killian grinned.

“So, what do these…anemones mean?”

“Anomalies, Swan,” Killian corrected automatically. “They usually signify paranormal activity. We went through the pictures carefully and have counted at least five different light anomalies, which is the most we’ve seen in one space during a single night of investigation.”

“Wow. Does that mean I’ll get into the paranormal record books?”

The three investigators laughed. Belle minimized the gallery of photos and hit a few more keys. “This is from the video camera,” she explained, hovering the cursor over the little dot on the left side of the screen. “I’m going to fast forward quite a ways because nothing happened for the first two hours of the session.”

She slowly dragged the cursor several inches to the right, stopping when the time read an hour and fifty-seven minutes. Emma strained to see anything in the grainy image and was finally able to discern the outline of her sleeping form in the bed.

As she continued to watch, one corner of the screen began to lighten slightly. Will pointed to the spot. “See that there? Keep watchin’.”

The mist drifted down toward where Emma lay and seemed to settle beside her.

Emma leaned in closer, then sat back with a gasp. “Is that…?”

“It appears we captured an apparition,” Killian confirmed.

It was a strange sensation to watch herself beginning to react on screen, and Killian’s reassuring hand on her shoulder was very welcome as she felt herself filling with tension.

“This is where it seems your nightmare begins,” Belle remarked softly.

“Do you remember anything about it?” Killian asked.

Emma slowly shook her head. “Not really. Just that feeling of being held down and unable to move or speak.”

“Did you hear the voices again?”

“I heard those whispers, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying.”

They watched for several minutes, uncomfortably observing Emma’s jerky movements in the video. Then they saw the bedroom door open and Killian enter the room. He dropped to his knees beside the bed and placed the flux response device on the nightstand. After he turned it on, they heard him ask, “Are you Neal Cassidy?” and saw the green light illuminate.

Emma whipped around to look at Killian. “He gave you confirmation?”

“Aye, but he didn’t answer any of my other questions.”

Belle let the video run for a few more minutes, allowing them to hear more of Killian’s questions such as, “Do you know you’re dead?” and “Do you know how you died?”

“We haven’t had a chance to watch the entire video,” Belle explained, “but the guys noted the times when there was more activity.” After checking the paper in front of her, she moved the video forward to the 3:25 mark. Killian was no longer in the bedroom, but Emma still appeared to be having a restless sleep. The translucent figure beside her began to drift until it was a few feet away from the camera, where it appeared to stretch a limb toward it.

“We were wonderin’ if he was tryin’ to turn off the camera,” Will said. “Like he didn’t want us recordin’ him or somethin’.”

“Why can’t we see him clearly like I could when he was outside the coffee shop?” Emma asked, as she continued to watch the video.

“That’s a good question,” Killian responded. “We really don’t know why spirits are recognizable at times, and other times, they have no form at all.”

“You can see the apparition settle back down beside you…now,” Belle said, stopping the video at that spot. “It doesn’t move until…” consulting the paper again, she moved ahead to just past the five hour mark, “right here. Now, watch it disappear.” She clicked on the play arrow to show the spirit move up toward the ceiling. Then it was gone.

“Maybe he went through to the fourth floor and he’s their problem now,” Emma said bitterly.

“I wish it was that easy,” Killian replied.

Belle switched off the monitor in front of her. “We got some audio recordings on the spirit box and voice recorder. We can listen to those next.”

Will placed the voice recorder in front of Emma. “So far, we only listened to a section of this corresponding to the appearance of the apparition.” He turned it on and sat back in his chair. At first, all they could hear was complete silence. It was broken by a whooshing sound, followed by the soft, unnerving sounds of Emma letting out little whimpers.

“What was that noise?” she asked.

“We assume that was his ghost coming into the room,” Killian said.

“That’s the sound ghosts make?”

“We’ve heard lotsa different noises through the voice recorder,” Will said. “Bangs, crashes, whooshes, clinks, clanks, moans, groans…”

“I think she has the idea,” Killian cut in.

“The data gathered from the EMF detector, geophone and infrared thermometer verified the fact that paranormal activity was present in your bedroom,” Belle said.

“Oh, yay,” Emma said sarcastically, spinning her index finger in the air in a mock celebration.

Killian chuckled as he scooted the spirit box closer and plugged it into the computer. “After using the flux and getting just that one response, I turned off the voice recorder and replaced it with this. The nice thing about this new device is, it records the sounds. The old one we had didn’t, so we had to rely on the video recording to hear it. We’ve spent quite a bit of time listening to several sections of this, trying to decipher them. Perhaps you can help us, Swan.”

“I can try,” she said, leaning forward in her chair. “What am I listening for?”

“When I switch it on, you’re going to hear ‘white noise’ and the readout on the computer will look something like a Richter Scale graph. When there’s an unexplained sound and a spike on the graph, it’s possible the apparition is trying to speak. That happens several times in the section we’re about to listen to, but we have differing ideas of what’s being said. We’re hoping you can figure it out.”

“Okay. Ready when you are.”

He switched on the box and instantly, loud static filled the room. Emma flinched at the sudden noise and once again felt Killian’s steadying hand on her shoulder. With his other hand, he pointed to the readout on the laptop screen. “Watch for the spike. We’ll run it back as many times as you need.”

She watched and listened intently. About a minute in, there was a change in the graph as they heard a guttural sound. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Can you run it back?”

Belle rewound it a few seconds. When the sound came through again, Emma whispered, “Ems.”

Killian reached forward and hit pause himself. “What did you say, Love?”

“Ems,” she murmured again. “Neal always called me Ems. At first, I thought it was a cute nickname, but it annoyed me after a while because he overused it.”

“Play it back again, please,” Killian told Belle.

She did as he asked, all of them leaning forward involuntarily. After they heard the word again, she stopped it. “I think she’s right.”

“What did you guys think it said?” Emma asked.

“It’s so quick, I didn’t even have a guess,” Killian said.

“I thought it sounded like he was clearing his throat or something,” Belle added.

“I thought he belched,” Will grinned.

“Because ghosts obviously build up gas and have to let it out somehow,” Killian said, rolling his eyes. Then he turned his attention to Emma, who had paled considerably. “Swan, are you okay?”

“I, uh…could I get a drink of water, please?” she asked, her voice tremulous.

Will jumped to his feet. “I’ll get it.”

Killian swiveled her chair and knelt down in front of her. “Is this too much for you, Emma? We can stop, if it is.”

“It’s just…hearing his voice and knowing he’s…dead is pretty freaky. Seeing him was a horrible experience, but hearing him…”

Will came back with a bottle of water and handed it to her. She thanked him and took a long drink.

“That’s enough for today,” Killian said, standing up.

“No,” she protested. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a shock, you know?”

“Of course it is,” he agreed, “but if you’re sure, we’ll keep going.”

She nodded and turned her chair to face the desk again.

“Ready?” Belle asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Belle hit play and the room filled with the pulsating white noise again. This time when there was a vocalization, she had to rewind it four times before Emma said, “I think he’s saying ‘mine’.”

“That was our guess,” Killian said.

“That gives me chills,” Belle said, with a little shiver. Will stepped behind her to put his hands on her shoulders and she looked up at him appreciatively.

“There were a few other places where we heard his voice,” Killian explained, giving Belle a nod to start the recording again.

It took them nearly fifteen minutes to decipher the last phrase. They finally came to a consensus that the first two words were ‘taking’ and ‘you’, but the final utterance stymied them, until Emma suddenly slumped in her chair. “I think I know what it is. He…he’s saying ‘taking you…with me’.”

Belle put her hand over her mouth, eyes wide, while a grim-faced Killian rubbed his hands up and down Emma’s biceps in an attempt to soothe her. Will said bluntly what they were all thinking. “The bloody bastard thinks you’re his and wants to drag you to hell with him?”

*********

Thank you all very much for reading!

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda

@pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426

@julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones

@zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90 @apiratewhopines

@hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie @beckettj @cssns

#cssns24 #ghosted #chapter 2 #jrob64 #art by krystal #captain swan supernatural summer #csff #paranormal investigators #youtube #cs modern au #neighbors to lovers

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 years ago

Note

This is for the requests!

Could you do a fluffy sweet fic where eddie kisses and adores all of steves moles? I hc him to be absolutely covered in them, and I'd love to see something like it!

Thank you so much for this! You were my first request and I know I said I wasn't posting until 4/30, I needed a little break from call me sunshine, and this felt like a good one! I hope you love it! I also recommend checking out your skin and bones turn into something beautiful (you know I love you so) by ChristinMKay if you haven't because that was hands down one of the most beautiful takes I have ever seen on Steve's freckles/moles ❤️

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Steve used to be confident. He had to keep telling himself that.

In the mirror, in the car, in bed. He repeated it to himself that he used to be confident.

But something happened somewhere between Nancy and his third or fourth concussion that made him genuinely believe that he isn't attractive anymore. Not physically, not his personality, not even his ability to be a human wall when disaster struck.

And the thing that he hated most? Those fucking moles. They covered damn near every inch of his body. They served no purpose other than making him hate himself more.

So imagine his surprise when Eddie kissed him. Well, kissed his moles.

Instead of their first kiss being like any other standard first kiss, it was Eddie kissing the mole right above his top lip.

Their second kiss, really their actual first kiss, was better than anything Steve had had before.

But still, the thoughts lingered.

Eddie was good. He knew how to take Steve apart in seconds, put him back together, and take him apart again. He knew what buttons to push and when, and he did it with the smirk Steve had grown to love more than anything.

But still, those damn thoughts wouldn’t go away.

He did his best to stay as clothed as possible with Eddie. He knew it wouldn’t work long term, but he figured Eddie wasn’t around for the long term anyways, right? He’d get bored and go. He’d think Steve was bullshit and go. He’d remember he was too good for this town and go.

But the months went on. Eddie stayed.

Eddie didn’t question him, just let him keep his boxers and shirt on, let him leave the light off if he took his shirt off.

Until they stayed in Indy for a night after helping Robin move.

They managed to book a decent hotel room, better than anything Eddie had stayed in before and better than anything Steve had been in in years.

Steve was exhausted. Helping Robin move had been draining physically and emotionally, and Steve just wanted a shower and sleep.

Because of the exhaustion, Steve wasn’t thinking when he got out of the shower. He wrapped the towel around him and walked back into the room. The room that Eddie was in, sitting on the bed, looking at Steve hungrily.

“Eds? You okay?”

“You have…so many of them…”

Shit.

Eddie was standing and walking towards him before he could turn and hide in the bathroom.

Fuck.

Eddie’s hands were on his hips, grip strong to bruise, probably able to sense that Steve was ready to run and wanting to keep him there.

“You think I can’t tell?”

“Can’t tell what?”

“That you don’t like them? That you don’t like you?”

Steve felt stripped to the bone. Naked in a way he’d never been before.

Eddie’s lips were on his neck, right where the freckles and moles combined to make constellations on his skin.

“I see it. I see how you avoid being seen. Not just your skin, but you. But I see you, Stevie. I’ve seen you for years. And I love every single thing I’ve seen.”

Eddie was peppering kisses against his skin.

At first, it just seemed random. But then, Steve realized what he was doing.

He was kissing his moles. Every. Single. One.

Down his neck, to his collarbone, to his chest.

“You even have them under your hair here,” Eddie mumbled against his skin, hot breath mixing with the cool air of the room leaving goosebumps on Steve’s skin.

“Eddie, I-” Steve let out a moan when Eddie bit his collarbone.

“Please let me show you how much I love them,” Eddie said against his skin before pulling away and looking at him. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

He’d never said the words before, but he never had to. Steve realized he’d said them every day for months.

In the way he brought him a can of Coke every time he was working. In the way he started picking up the kids for Hellfire on days when Steve was tired. In the way he held his hand under the blanket during movie night instead of over it because he knew Steve was worried about telling the kids. In the way he let him hide parts of him away so he would feel safe.

Steve was tired of hiding. Eddie saw him anyway. Eddie loved anyway.

So Steve bit his lip and nodded, letting the towel fall away from his waist.

Eddie looked him up and down, complete awe written clearly all over his face.

“You’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

Steve had trouble believing it for himself, but for now, he could believe it for Eddie.

Eddie slowly pushed him towards the bed, gently pushing him to lay down, only pulling away to take off his own clothes.

Eddie had never been shy about being naked in front of Steve. Even with his scars, his permanently altered tattoos, his stretch marks from when he was a “chubby kid.”

Eddie’s lips were on every mole, every freckle, every scar, every bump of his skin.

His tongue traced along the outlines of some of them, making impermanent pictures out of his spit, leaving bruises in places he’d never been able to touch before.

Steve couldn’t hold back his moans and whimpers, bucking his hips up when Eddie made it to the moles on his inner thighs. He could feel Eddie’s smile against his skin, his laugh sending shivers down his spine.

It was freeing to feel Eddie’s love in this way, to know that something he hid for years didn’t need to be.

Eddie kissed all the way down to his ankle, pausing when he saw a large freckle on his big toe. He looked up at Steve, gave him a smile, and kissed that one too.

No part of Steve had gone without Eddie’s lips, tongue, or teeth.

Steve settled back into the hotel bed, for once not thinking about how the lamp on the bedside table was providing a golden glow to every inch of his skin, and let Eddie use his lips, tongue, and teeth where he’d wanted it most.

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Don't forget my requests are open until 5/7! I am working on these in between working on call me sunshine so they will be slightly infrequent until next weekend!

#anon request #requests #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #i tagged this body worship on ao3 because it felt like it was #soft eddie munson #steve harrington confidence issues #they get fixed REAL QUICK THO

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fallingforunrealisticromance · 1 year ago

Text

Send you away - 10th doctor x reader!

A/N: I'd apologise for disappearing off the face of the earth, but it'll probably happen again. I've been in the biggest writing slump, I genuinely can't remember the last time i wrote something new. Even this story is old, but i've made a lot of adjustments so it's half new i guess. If you sent in a request, it will get done and posted!! It just might take me longer than intended.

Word count: 1989

Warnings: None

------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Doctor.” You called after him as he stormed towards the console.

But he continued to ignore you. As he’d been doing for the past five minutes.

“Doctor this is getting really childish now.” You sighed, leaning against the railing.

He begun flicking a bunch of different switches, busying himself with the console as the TARDIS begun to take off. You were growing increasingly more aggravated. You didn’t even know what you’d done to warrant this behaviour from him. One moment the two of you were exploring a new planet he’d taken you too, then the next thing you knew there had been an attack of some sort. And this being the doctor’s life, of course he ran to the rescue. Somewhere along the line the aliens causing the attack had captured you. It took the doctor almost 3 hours to find you. They’re ship was full of intricate tunnels leading to a million different sections. By the time the doctor reached you, you were worn out. They hadn’t hurt you too bad. Only a few punches here and there, but it was apparently enough to form big purple bruises all over you. Other than that you were fine. That’s what you told the doctor at least. Thinking back to it now, that’s when he’d stopped answering you. He’d saved you and then just sort of stopped. He couldn’t be angry at you because of that. Right? It’s not like you asked to be kidnapped. It’s not even like you went out looking for trouble – you’d stayed by his side the whole time.

“Doctor.” You tried once more, your voice coming out a lot harsher now.

Still no response.

“Jesus Christ, 903 years old you’d think you’d have matured by now” You mumbled.

Once again you were met with nothing but the hum of the TARDIS. He was getting on your last nerve at this point. How did he expect you to fix whatever it was he was mad at you about if he wouldn’t tell you what the problem was?

“For god’s sake, TALK TO ME” You yelled, finally snapping. His eyes snapped to meet yours, seemingly taken back by your sudden change in tone. “I don’t see what I’ve done to piss you off so much, but you can’t just stand there and wait for me to figure it out.” You ranted moving towards him.

His face remained as cold as ever, unwavering as he watched you.

“I didn’t ask for them to take me. For them to make me think I was never going to see you again. So if your angry at me because of that, then you have absolutely no right. I did nothing wrong. So don’t stand there and ignore me. Either talk to me or get over yourself.” You prodded his chest with your finger as you finished your sentence.

His hand moved to grab your wrist, causing your anger to fade for a moment. You stared up at him, trying to figure out what was going on in his mind.

“Talk to me.” You said, your voice coming out as more of a whisper.

His eyes flickered with a wave of torment. As if his mind was waging a war over what to say to you. Whatever it was, it broke your heart.

“No.” He replied, letting your hand fall and walking away from you.

You stood in your spot momentarily frozen before your brain processed what he’d said.

“No? What the hell do you mean no? Doctor you can’t expect me to just know why your mad at me-“

“I’m not mad at you” He cut you off, leaning forward on the railing with his back to you.

That confused you. Slowly you stepped closer to him. “

If you’re not mad at me, why won’t you talk to me?” Your voice was coming out a lot softer than before.

The doctor sighed as he dropped his head to rest in his hands. “I’m mad at myself. I should have protected you” He mumbled.

Your heart burned hearing the sorrow laced in his tone. You hated when he got like this. He caved in on himself, allowing the guilt to overwhelm and consume him.. The man in front of you carried the weight of worlds on his shoulder’s day in, day out and chose to blame himself no matter the outcome. Even in situations he had no control over. When in fact he was just one man. An extraordinary one at that. But nonetheless he was one man. And you knew he shouldn’t try to take on as much as he did.

“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know it was going to happen.” You said reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.

But he quickly whipped around to face you, anger in his eyes.

“YES I DID” He yelled.

You stumbled back, not prepared for his reaction.

“This is always what happens. Every single time and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. It happened to Rose, Martha, donna. Even to mickey. No matter how hard I try, how much I care – I can never stop losing them.” He seethed, pacing up and down.

You watched him silently, not daring to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing.

“It hurt with them. So much. But you” He stopped, turning to face you. “Losing you would break me more than I care to imagine” He breathed.

You stared at the man you’d fallen in love with, breaking at the seams right in front of you.

“You won’t lose me.” You replied, stepping closer once again.

He rolled his eyes.

“No listen to me. You won’t lose me doctor. I refuse to leave you alone. Because I know how much it hurts, to feel so utterly alone in the world. To feel that there is no one out there to care or love you. No one to make you feel safe.” You moved closer still, taking his hands in yours.

“That was me when you found me. And you showed me a whole new life doctor. And I’m not just talking about the stars and the aliens, none of that. You showed me what it’s like to feel wanted, to feel needed. Whether you intended to or not, you made me feel loved.” You said, tears threatening to spill. You avoided his gaze, choosing to focus on his hands in yours.

“You fixed me. And all the demons we seem to stumble across, they’re worth enduring for a life with you. So I will not leave you.” You concluded, finally looking back at him.

His brow was furrowed, as if he couldn’t understand your feelings. But just as quickly as before, his cold deminer returned.

“You will. If you stay.” His words stung, causing you to recoil.

At the loss of contact, his face fell. He didn’t want to hurt you. But he couldn’t lose you the way he had with the others. He needed you safe, no matter how much it pained him.

“Y-you want me to leave?” You stuttered.

It felt like the wind had just been knocked from your lungs. It had never even crossed your mind that he might not want you there. The doctor rushed towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

“No. No I really don’t. You mean more to me then anything in the world”

You wrapped your arms around him as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“Knowing you has been the greatest gift the universe could’ve given me. I was hurting, just as you were. But you healed me.” He explained.

You chuckled against him. “I guess we work pretty well for each other then.”

“I suppose so.” He replied, smiling to himself.

“I just can’t stand the thought of something happening to you.” He said, pulling away from you.

Your face fell at the loss of his body against yours.

“Please don’t send me away. I have nothing to go back to.” You whimpered.

“I don’t want to. But I need you safe.” He whispered, his voice cracking.

Tears were now streaming down both of your faces.

“I’m safe with you” You replied, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

He moved towards you, cupping your face in his hands.

“I can’t promise you that.” He rested his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to. Just please. Let me stay” You were practically sobbing at this point.

You could feel his hesitance, but you really couldn’t leave. There was nowhere for you to go. The TARDIS was your home now.

“Please doctor. I love you please don’t.” You begged breathlessly.

The doctor tensed at your words. He pulled away, still holding your face, to look at you.

“W-what did you say?” He stammered.

You were too tired to try and lie. You gently placed your hand over his, nuzzling against it.

“I love you.” You whispered.

There was a tense moment as the doctor just looked at you. Just as you went to move away from embarrassment, the doctor crashed his lips against yours. You froze for a moment unable to respond. That was the last thing you’d expected him to do. The doctor mistook your actions as regret, so he begun to pull away, trying to turn away from you. That snapped you from your thoughts.

“No” You cried as you grabbed him, pulling his lips back to yours.

His arm flew to your waist, pulling you flush against him while the other cradled your face in his hands. You had one arm round his neck, your fingers getting lost in his brown mess of hair, while the other clutched at his jacket. The kiss was so full of passion, the two of you seizing every opportunity to explore each other. You didn’t even realise you’d been moving backwards until your back hit the railing. He leaned further into you, as if it was even possible. Eventually you pulled away from one another. You rested your forehead against his, your eyes remaining closed as you breathlessly cherished the feeling. You already missed him on your lips.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that” The doctor whispered, causing a smile to crawl its way onto your face.

You opened your eyes and pulled away to look up at him.

“Oh I think I do. It’s been a rather tiring process”

He raised his eyebrows at you quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know how frustrating it is to be pining after a certain time lord you spend every day with?” You said laughing.

“Well seeing as your not a time lord. No, no I don’t” He replied smiling. “But I do know that I’ve been falling in love with you since I met you. It scared me at first. I’m not used to feeling this way.” He admitted softly.

Your eyes softened at the thought of him not getting the love you knew he deserved.

“But I came to realise it’s not a bad thing. The effect you have on me, it’s indescribable. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

You were positively blushing at this point. He brushed his thumb slowly across your crimson cheeks as he stared down at you, holding nothing but pure overpowering love for you in his eyes.

“I am head over heels in love with you. And it means everything to me that you feel the same.”

You smiled brightly at him. “I love you Doctor. So much.”

“I know.” He said before leaning down and capturing your lips in yet another kiss.

This one was a lot shorter and sweeter but full of love, nonetheless. You rested against him, enjoying the warmth his arm provided. Life with the doctor was not without its difficulties, but knowing he loved you the way you loved him made the whole thing a lot more bearable.

#the doctor #doctor who #10th doctor #the doctor x reader #doctor who fan art #dr who #david tennet #tenth doctor

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