#emma this is not a sign for you to fucking text me

[blueicequeen19]

Ignorance is Bliss Pt. 4

Warnings: smut, talking, unprotected baby making

I call Tyler an Uber and he wastes no time with throwing his tantrum of stomping and heavy breathing. I was just thankful he wasn’t throwing things. The man was a mommas boy from day one and had never been told no a day in his life. Then he became a cop.

After Tyler leaves, I take Emma back upstairs to find her sister asleep in my bed. So after many promises that we could see Blue tomorrow, I get Emma into bed then grab my phone to send a text to JJ.

Can we talk? The girls are asleep.

He immediately replies.

Yea, come down.

My heart leaps as I quickly race downstairs, finding him outside on the deck waiting for me. I slide the door open and my first instinct is to run into his arms but I don’t. I sit down on the lounger next to him and turn so we’re facing each other.

“How did it go?” JJ asks, his tone soft and calm. He didn’t appear to be angry any longer.

“As well as it could’ve. He wants to leave the girls with me but I don’t know why. I think he’s up to something. Not that I’m really complaining. He’s kept them from me since they were born.”

“That must’ve been hard for you.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, tears threatening to spill over as I nod. JJ takes my hands and pulls me into his lap, holding me as I breakdown for the first time in a long time. The whole time JJ strokes my back as my tears run down his chest, clinging to him like he’s my lifeline.

“I’m sorry this is happening. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this without being honest. I make it a point to keep my kids a secret because people get weird about it and I wanted to know this was real before I brought them up.” I lean back in his lap, taking in his soft blue eyes.

“This is real.” He murmurs, kissing my lips softly. I pull away, covering his mouth so he can’t kiss me again. I can’t think when he kisses me.

“Why are you being so understanding about this? You haven’t even asked me about my job.” I press and he pulls my hand away.

“I had time to be angry but it’s none of my business. I’ll listen to whatever you want to tell me but I don’t think I can share you if it’s something you want to keep doing.”

“I made enough money that I was able to quit. I was an escort. I had clients in the White House and I’ve signed more NDA’s than I can count. A majority of the time, my job only required being expensive arm candy. I knew I wouldn’t be able to do my line of work and have a relationship. Some people could make it work but it was hard. Money only goes so far.”

“And your ex is a douche because?”

“That was my type back then.”

“Did you meet him as a client?”

“No, I met him in college after I’d already started working. I kept it a secret for awhile but he became suspicious when I always seemed to have money. I got pregnant, proved it was his, and quit for a long time but that wasn’t enough. Tyler was disgusted with me. I couldn’t stand the way he looked at me or talked about me. He made sure everyone knew that I was just an overpaid whore and was no good as a wife or mother. So after draining all of my savings to pay off the debt we both had, he kicked me out and took full custody. The court system was on his side because he was a cop. I’ve been working since.”

“God, I hate him. I’ve only been in a room with him once and I fucking hate him.” His shoulders shake with rage and I quickly run my hands up and down his arms to soothe him.

“I do too but I still have two amazing daughters because of him and he’s still their father.”

“What if he tries to take them from you again?” My heart aches just thinking about all the possibilities but for now, they were asleep under my roof. They were mine again even for right now and that was enough for me to take a breath.

I silence him with a kiss, threading my fingers through his messy blonde hair until he deepens the kiss, letting me in. I tilt my head to the side as his tongue slips into my mouth, teasing me with little flicks that have my clit pulsing. He pulls away with a groan, his hand slipping under my pajama top to knead my breast. My nipples harden at his touch and I find myself rocking in his lap, the rod between his thighs begging for attention.

“We need to stop or I’ll fuck you out here.” JJ rasps, twisting one of my nipples until it borderlines pain and I whimper.

“I don’t care. Just make me feel good for a minute.” I stand, quickly dropping my sleep shorts and he pulls his hardened cock from his shorts. I straddle his lap as he lines himself up and I quickly sink down, burying my face in his neck to keep from moaning. My other neighbor might not be too happy if we woke them up.

JJ wraps his arms around my waist holding me tight as I set the pace, rocking back and forth until my thighs are burning.

“Tell me you love me.” I whisper, kissing his cheek and feeling the light stumble against his skin.

“I love you.” He whispers back, hands sliding down to my ass and moving me faster.

“Promise me you won’t run.” I beg, feeling myself on the brink of an orgasm. The tight grip on my ass told me that he was close too.

“I promise. No running.” I go rigid, my body trembling as I cum and he kisses me to swallow my cries. I keep bouncing as I feel him release inside me, our bodies molded together as I ride out our highs until we’re both sweating and panting.

He grabs a towel off the back of the lounger and wraps it loosely around my waist in case someone is down on the beach, not that it really matters now. I smile as we kiss, almost like we need it to breathe. Still afraid the other is going to disappear. Everyday I fell more and more in love with him and it terrified me. I hadn’t loved a man in so long, I forgot what it was like. It was consuming.

“Do you have to work tomorrow?” I ask, keeping my voice low as I hug him.

“Yes. You and the girls can keep Blue while I’m gone if you’d like.” JJ says, caressing my back.

“They’d love that. Can they meet you tomorrow over dinner?”

“I’d love that.”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Caught in the Fire 16 - Recover [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves ❤ Here’s an extra chapter, I hope you like it and please don’t forget to tell me what you think of it! kisses!❤

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: All fights have an aftermath.

Warnings: Violence, death, crime, explicit language, dysfunctional relationships, drinking, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You had to admit, you had not seen your first fight in a relationship to come this early, but here you were.

You knew you had to stop looking at your phone, after all, it was more than obvious that he expected you to call or text or at least attempt to build some sort of communication after last night. Checking your phone every minute like a lovesick high schooler wasn’t going to help the situation, you were very much aware of it.

That didn’t seem to stop you though.

“…and then he said when we grow up, we can have one of those ships that goes under the sea—um, what are they called?”

Your head snapped up and you stole a look at the overly excited seven year old before turning your gaze to the road.

“Submarine.”

“We’ll have a submarine and we will be the greatest undersea scientists together!”

“Marine biologists.”

“Yeah that!” she pointed at you. “And I’m going to be a zoo keeper and a painter too!”

You smiled at her, “Sounds like a solid plan Em.”

“I think AJ is amazing,” she said with her nose up in the air, “He’s nicer and more fun than any of the boys in my school, and he is great at hide and seek!”

God, you missed the times where all you expected from a guy was that he was good at hide and seek.

“Whoa, you’re kidding!” you gasped, “He’s great at hide and seek? I didn’t know that!”

“Yeah!” Emma nodded vigorously, already so excited. “So when you think about it, we’ll be great marine—marine—“

“Biologists.”

“Biologists because we’ll be searching for treasures under the sea and they’ll be hidden!” Emma nodded at you in a serious manner, making you bite down a smile. “So we will find them easily!”

You checked your phone screen again before fixing your gaze on the road, now entering the driveway to the school.

“Y/N?”

“Yes honey?”

Emma looked up from her doll.

“How do you know if a boy likes you?”

Fuck if I know.

You really weren’t the right person to be asked that, especially right now. In the light of recent events, you weren’t even sure you could use your current relationship as the base for the answer.

Honestly, what were you supposed to say?

If he intimidates your ex into leaving the city and beats the brother of the said ex to a pulp for insulting you?

“Um—“ you stopped the car when you saw the teacher. “There are uh—there are signs.”

Emma looked up at you with wide eyes. “What signs?”

“Well…” you started but as if on cue, the car behind you honked and you looked over your shoulder.

“Em, how about we continue this later on? After school?”

“Okay!” She gave you a kiss on the cheek, then shouldered her backpack. “See you later!”

“Have a nice day!” you called out as she closed the door, then you shook your head.

“Kids these days…” you mumbled to yourself and started the car again to drive to the bakery.

                                                 ***

By the time you got to the bakery, it was mostly crowded but it was no surprise to you considering the time. Josh grinned at you when you went behind the register.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you said, “You’re awfully chipper for a morning.”

“It’s a beautiful day.”

“Mmm, try again.”

“I was up all night talking to this girl,” he said. “Y/N, I think I really like her.”

You awwed. “That’s sweet. If you break a girl’s heart, I’m telling your mom.”

“I’d never!” he said and you let out a laugh, then made your way to the kitchen. You put your apron on to check on the cupcakes you had left to cool off before you left, then grabbed the batch and the piping nozzle to decorate them.

You were down to the last two when the kitchen door opened, making you look up.

“Josh, could you—“ you stopped in mid-sentence and tilted your head. “Becca?”

Becca, like the princess of her family that she was, smiled at you brightly as if she wasn’t currently standing in the kitchen of your bakery.

“Hey,” she said, “Your cousin is too busy texting someone so he didn’t see me come in.”

“Yeah, he’s in love,” you shook your head. “So he’s an idiot nowadays. Anything I can help you with?”

“Yep!” she walked to the counter you were currently working on, skipping on her steps like an excited school girl. “I’ve decided that since you’re with my brother now, -my condolences for your taste in men, by the way- we should get to know each other better.”

“Right now?”

“What better time than now?” she asked, looking around. “Or at least that’s what daddy used to say. You know, I’ve always wondered how kitchens worked; I’ve been to ours a couple of times but everyone is always so busy there.”

“That’s usually how kitchens work.”

She waved a hand in the air. “And I heard you and Sarah hung out, why am I being left out?”

“You weren’t. It was just a play date for the kids.”

“I’m being left out because I don’t have kids? That’s not fair!”

“Becca, I don’t have a kid either,” you reminded her and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Technically. But everyone knows you raised Emma.”

You heaved a sigh, then held out the cupcake you had just decorated. “Since you’re here, you might as well do a taste test.”

“Yay,” she took it from you to bite into it, letting out a small moan. “Fuck! You know, I was gonna tell you that you can do better than my idiot of a brother but I changed my mind, we need to keep you and your baking to ourselves.”

You scoffed a laugh. “Thanks I guess?”

“Seriously, this is perfect.” she said, taking the second seat behind the counter which was usually reserved for Emma to watch you work around the kitchen. “So, do you want to ask me how mom reacted to the news?"

“I think I can imagine how she reacted,” you grumbled, making her laugh.

“It was kind of funny.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah! She’s pretending as if we all haven’t seen it coming, I think it’s hilarious.”

“Should I expect a visit like the last time?”

“Probably,” she said. “You can just call me if she tries to pull that nonsense though. When can we tell Buck about that by the way?”

“Never.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “Y/N, I love my mom but she needs to start acknowledging the fact that her children are actual grown up individuals who can make their own decisions.”

You lowered the nozzle again. “Why do I feel like you’re projecting in this case?”

“Just a little,” she admitted. “But my mommy issues can wait until our girls night out.”

“We’ll have a girls night out?”

“Of course we will,” she said. “Where else am I going to talk trash about Bucky’s exes?”

You tried to repress the laughter climbing up your throat. “I appreciate it.”

“Thank you, I’ll text you the time and place the minute I choose it.” She popped the rest of the cupcake in her mouth and you paused for a moment.

“How is Bucky?”

“Sulking,” she said. “Did you guys have a fight?”

“Something like that.”

“He looks kind of irritated at everyone so I figured,” she said. “Why? You can tell me if he’s being a stubborn idiot, I can snap him out of it.”

“I think it was more of a me issue,” you admitted. “But thank you.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll get solved so don’t even worry about it.”

“You think so?”

“Duh,” Becca said. “He has been in love with you forever, I don’t think a tiny insignificant fight will change anything.”

You shifted your weight and she grabbed another cupcake from the counter.

“I gotta meet my boyfriend, I’ll text you about the girls night!” she called out before stepping out of the kitchen and you gawked at the door, then shook your head.

“That family is freaking insane,” you mumbled to yourself, then picked up the nozzle again.

                                                    **

At the end of the day, you were the one who was about to go insane. You had tried everything to distract yourself, and now that Emma was at your place, you were busy which helped quite a lot but nothing could actually stop you from checking your phone.

You decided that you’d call Bucky after putting Emma to sleep and now that she was about to be done with her homework, that would be soon enough. You went to the kitchen to wash the dishes but there was a knock on the door, making you turn your head.

“I got it!” Emma yelled from the living room, already running to the door and you ran your hands under the water before taking the towel off the counter.

“Hi Bucky!” Emma said cheerfully and you held your breath, then tossed the towel back to the counter to make your way to the door. Bucky offered you an apologetic smile.

“Hey, sorry I dropped by unannounced,” he said, stealing a look at Emma who looked way too hyper to see him. You pushed your hair behind your ear and shook your head.

“Don’t be ridiculous, come in,” you said, stepping aside so that he could come in, and closed the door behind him.

“I’ll show you something!” Emma yelled, already rushing to the living room and Bucky grinned at her, then turned to look at you.

“Is it okay?”

“Yeah!” you said as you both walked to the living room, “I was about to call you anyway. No worries.”

“Look at this, I made it!” Emma waved the paper in front of him and Bucky took it from her to gasp at the newest piece of ‘art’.

“That’s—“

“It’s upside down,” you muttered under your breath as you cleared your throat and he instantly turned it before letting out a whistle.

“Em, this is so good!” he said, then tilted his head. “Are you sure you made this?”

“I did!”

“All you? Because it looks like a professional artist made it.”

“No Bucky, it was me!” Emma jumped up and down, giggling. “I didn’t even ask for help from my teacher!”

“Whoa, good job!”

“Em, are you done with your homework?”

She nodded fervently.

“Then you’re brushing your teeth and going to bed, come on.”

She heaved a dramatic sigh and turned around to leave the room, but then held her breath and whirled around on her heels.

“Y/N, you didn’t answer my question today!”

“Hm?”

“How do you know if a boy likes you?”

Oh God damn it.

“Can we talk about that tomorrow?” you asked, already aware that you were fighting a losing battle and of course, Emma shook her head then pointed at Bucky.

“Bucky is a boy,” she said. “He can tell me.”

“Oh no,” Bucky mumbled, and you tried to repress a smile at the sight of complete horror on his face.

The guy could beat someone to a pulp but had no idea how to answer a boy question to your little sister.

“Well if he’s pulling at your pigtails—“

“No no, don’t say that to her,” you cut him off, “I don’t want her to think like that. People said that to me and you remember how my first boyfriend was.”

“Yeah, Robbie,” he said. “A shame how his shoulder never got back to what it used to be.”

Your head shot up. “What?”

“Hm?” he asked back. “I didn’t…say anything.”

“What did you do to Robbie?”

“It was years ago Peaches.”

“Y/N!” Emma said loudly, gathering your attention. You licked your lips, then crouched down to fix her hair.

“Okay, if a boy is nice to you, listens to you and is interested in what you say, it means he likes you.”

“But Cora said if a boy is mean to you—“

“That’s a lie,” you said. “If a boy is mean to you, no matter what he says, he doesn’t like you. Okay? If he likes you, he is not going to be rude to you.”

“And if a guy is mean to you, make sure to tell me about it Em.”

You looked over your shoulder. “Bucky, you can’t threaten a seven year old.”

He made a face, “I’m not going to threaten a seven year old, Peaches.”

“Good.”

“I’m going to threaten his parents.”

“Jesus—“ you heaved a sigh. “Em, that’s the answer to your question, alright? If he’s nice to you, that’s a good sign.”

She nodded and waved at Bucky. “Good night Bucky!”

“Good night honey.”

“Night night!” she pressed a kiss on your cheek, then went to the bathroom. You heaved a sigh, then sat down on the couch with Bucky following you. You heaved a sigh, rubbing at your eyes and you watched Emma leave the bathroom to go to your bedroom, and closed the door behind her.

“I think you nailed it,” he said. “Now all we have to do is make sure she doesn’t date until she’s thirty.”

You lowered your hands to pick at your fingernail.

“It came out wrong,” you said after a beat. “Last night, I mean. I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

Bucky shot you a curt smile, leaning back in the couch and you licked your lips, trying to get your thoughts in order.

“It’s just… I’m not going to take your money. I can’t.”

“I don’t understand why.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

“You’re acting like I care about money—“

“No,” you cut him off. “No I know you don’t. That’s not the problem here.”

“Then what is?”

“I don’t want you to change your mind.”

“About money? Peaches—“

“No,” you said. “About…about how invested you are in this whole thing.”

“Are you serious right now?” you asked, staring at David who shook his head, his jaw clenched. “You slept with another woman and you’re actually trying to turn this around? Seriously?”

“I’m not trying to turn this around!” David insisted. “I’m just saying, it’s…I’ve been under a terrible amount of stress—“

“A terrible amount of stress?” you repeated. “A terrible amount of stress? That’s your excuse?”

“That’s the reason!” he exploded. “Not like I expected you to notice or understand—“

“I don’t understand how it feels to be under stress,” you said, staring at him. “Is—I’m sorry, is that what you’re saying?”

“I was…I was being smothered, alright?” he asked. “You keep giving me all these responsibilities, I barely have any time for myself now— just last Friday for example; you know it was my only day off and you asked me to pick Emma up from school!”

You stared at him. “Oh. I’m sorry me being in the hospital interrupted your day off.”

“It’s not just that!” he said, “It’s like—it’s like she always comes first, and you’re always busy with her or the bakery and never me. Just let your dad take care of her, she’s his daughter—“

“I think you should go now,” you cut him off. He let out a breath.

“Y/N, I slipped, okay? It was a momentary mistake—“  

“No it wasn’t.”

“We can fix this!”

“I don’t want to fix it,” you said, looking him dead in the eye before you slipped the engagement ring off your finger to put it on the table. “I want you to leave, David. For good.”

“How invested I am?” he repeated. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Listen, I don’t want you to have second thoughts about….” You motioned between you. “About this.”

He tilted his head as if he couldn’t even wrap his had around what you had just said.

“You think money,” he started. “Money, of all things can make me have second thoughts? About you?”

“Well—“

“Peaches, I don’t care about any of that shit,” he said. “Are you serious? Do you think anything can make me have second thoughts about you?”

A bitter smile pulled at your lips. “Lots of things could.”

“Nothing can.”

“Bucky…”

“No, I need you to listen to me right now.” He slipped off the couch to crouch down in front of you to see you better. “Whatever that dickhead you call your ‘ex fiancé’ told you, however he made you feel— that’s not me. You know that, right?”

You blinked back the tears. “I know that.”

“But?”

You heaved a sigh, reaching out to play with the rings adorning his fingers just so that you could focus on anything else.

“It can become too much,” you managed to say, nodding to yourself. “After a point. It’s either money, or responsibilities, or Emma, or—“

“What are you talking about? I love Em.”

“Yeah, right now,” you said. “But then you’re going to say that it’s too much, much more than what you signed up for and I can’t…”

“Peaches, I’m in,” he cut you off, reaching out to cup your cheek so that you’d look at him. “Alright? You, me….our secret illegitimate child we managed to have without either of us realizing.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips. “Right,” you said. “I almost forgot. Our secret, illegitimate child.”  

“We did good if you ask me,” he pointed out. “Well, you did good. I’m just going to buy her love and hope for the best.”

You tried to smile, squeezing at his wrist. “That’s a terrible plan.”

“Worked for my dad, and you know what they were like.”

“Oh yeah, the picture of a healthy marriage—“ you stopped yourself, your eyes widening. “Not that we—I wasn’t implying…that.”

A lazy grin pulled at his lips. “What weren’t you implying?”

“What you might think I was implying, I - I wasn’t implying that.”

“Glad we cleared that out,” his grin widened before he leaned in to brush his lips against yours, making you heave a content sigh. You felt as if you were melting into the kiss but you had to pull back when you heard Emma calling out from the bedroom.

“Y/N I can’t sleep, can you tell me a bedtime story?”

Bucky released a breathy chuckle and you scrunched up your face.

“Sorry, duty calls.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I should probably go anyways, I’m supposed to meet Stark.”

You pouted, then let him pull you up and you stretched out.

“Y/N!”

“Coming!” you called out, and turned to Bucky.

“Promise to be careful?”

“Cross my heart,” he said. “Promise to give our forbidden love fruit a good bedtime story?”

You smacked at his arm. “Out.”

“Love you too darling,” he whispered, then stole a kiss from you and left the apartment. You cracked your neck, then opened the door to the bedroom to find Emma sitting up in the bed.

“I thought about what you said,” she said, hugging her teddy bear and you sat by the bed.

“About what?”

“If a boy likes you.”

“Hm?”

“Bucky is nice to you,” she started counting with her fingers, “And he listens to you and is interested in what you say.”

You grinned, tilting your head.

“You think so?”

“Yes!” she said. “You should ask him if he wants to be your boyfriend!”

“Oh I should ask him?” you asked. “Why me?”

She heaved a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes. “Because boys can be too blind, silly,” she explained as if it was too simple to ask questions about, making you laugh. “So you can’t wait for them! And after you ask him, you can date and live happily ever after.”

You leaned in to press a kiss on top of her head, then grabbed the book on the nightstand.

“You know what?” you asked, opening the book to find a good story. “I think I like the sound of that.”

Chapter 17 

[celestialevie]

Birthday surprise // Niall Horan x singer! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

A/N: Since it's officially my birthday week and Niall's has just passed, I decided to write this very self-indulgent fic (even though I can't sing, but a girl can dream </3). I mostly wrote this for myself because I adore this human with my whole heart. Anyways hope someone will enjoy this fic just as much as I did writing it.

Finishing the first two songs, you chat a little with your fans. Noticing some of the signs they brought with them to get you to notice them, some of them making you laugh, while some of them made your heart clench with love. Sitting down at the piano, starting to play 'champagne problems'. While you were in the happiest relationship to date now, you still had some issues with your past relationships, where you were made the villain and them a victim when in reality it was the literal opposite. Niall was the blessing you were praying for. So what if you were fucked in the head? Niall loved you just the way you were.

Your birthday was coming up, and you were going to spend it while being in one of the cities you absolutely love touring in – Dublin. Although you were heartbroken because this will be the first birthday you were going to celebrate without your boyfriend, Niall. Ever since you've known him, you celebrated both of your birthdays with one another. His tour lead him to being in America during your birthday, which really sucked. You were both bummed out about it, he even offered to reschedule that concert, so he can be with you in Dublin, maybe even visit his family whilst already being in Ireland, you told him no. You didn't want to be selfish just because it's your birthday. Talking on the phone with him right from the moment he was awake (which was already in the afternoon for you). '' It feels weird to not be with you on your birthday, how will I survive without my birthday kisses and hugs from you? '' you ask while pouting. Niall chuckled and mimicked your put. '' I will give you your birthday kisses and hugs as soon as I see you. With extra ones for each day between your birthday and the day we see each other again. I promise. '' he gives you a smile. And you just pout harder. '' I really miss you. I can't wait to see you soon. '' checking the time, you realize it's almost time for you to start getting ready. '' Hey baby, I have to go start getting ready soon. I'll make sure Jenna calls you to FaceTime and shows you at least some concert if you're not busy. I love you and I miss you. '' as you say that, you hang up and quickly text your makeup artist, she can come over. Two minutes later, her and Jenna (your assistant and close friend) are in your dressing room, and you're getting ready. An hour later, you were done with your makeup and hair and all that was left was to put on your outfit. Ten minutes later, you were slowly making your way towards stage. Quickly texting Niall another I love you, and wishing him good luck on his own show later, you were off on the stage, the intro of your song' dress' starting to play as you were brought onto the stage. Let the fun begin.

After champagne problems, one of your favourite songs you wrote was next.

''... Don Perignon you brought it, no crowd of friends applauded

your hometown sceptics called it, champagne problems.''

'' A lot of you might not know, but this next song was inspired after I was done watching the amazing spider-man 2 for the millionth time. My love for Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield is unmatchable. Just ask my boyfriend, who's been hanging out with Tom Holland, how both of them are feeling betrayed by my love for both Amazing Spider-man's movies. This is How you get the girl. '' The intro of the song started playing and so were the screams of people.

Singing two more songs, you go get changed into a different outfit. Going back onto the stage, you're surprised that your manager Anna is standing there with a grin on her face.

'' Stand there like a ghost

Shaking from the rain

She'll open up the door and say 'are you insane?'

Say it's been long six months

And you were too afraid to tell her what you want, want...''

'' Uh-oh, manager is grinning, prepare yourselves guys, it's not going to be good. '' The crowd laughs while Anna rolls her eyes and smiles at you. '' We have a small surprise for you. '' as she says that, she points on the big screen behind you, when you turn around you are surprised to see a familiar face of one of your closest friends, Lewis Capaldi, wishing you a happy birthday and saying you guys need to go clubbing again soon. Laughing as his face fades away and the next one shows up, your very close friend and sometimes co-writer Taylor Swift, again wishing you the happiest birthday and saying how much she adores working with you and that she loves you very much. It went on for a while, all your friends and even your parents were there. Tears were falling down, and you didn't care it ruined your makeup. And then at the end there he was. My favourite face to see. Niall. '' Happiest birthday to you angel. I wish I could be there with you, just like we are always for our birthdays, but unfortunately I am not there to give you all the birthday hugs and wishes. I love you so much angel, keep rocking the world, and I will see you as soon as we can. '' At the end you were full on sobbing happy tears, hugging your manager and your band. The best surprise ever. '' I am very sorry for being a mess so publicly '' wiping your tears and thanking to whoever invented waterproof mascara for being the reason your makeup is not that ruined. '' Anyway, the show must go on, so let's go. '' picking up your acoustic guitar, adjusting it, you announce the song. ''You are in love. Let's go.''

''(...)

As the show is slowly coming to an end, and you're about to play a song that is about your boyfriend, that he inspired you to write. And Taylor helped you co-write it.

Morning, his place

Burnt toast, Sunday

You keep his shirt

He keeps his word

And for once, you let go

Of your fears and your ghosts

One step, not much

But it said enough

You kiss on side walks

You fight and you talk

One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says

You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love. ''

'' Sadly, the show is slowly coming to an end. You guys were the absolute best and I adore spending my birthday with you all. This next song is literally one of the most accurate songs I've written about any of my relationship. When I got inspired by my loveliest boyfriend, I had to invite Taylor to help me write it, as we all know she is the lyrics master. Lover is one of my many nicknames I use for Niall, and I know that he's probably watching this or will watch it later, so hi Niall. '' you wave to one of the camera's while the crowd laughs. Gently, you start playing the guitar.

What you didn't know is that your boyfriend is a liar and is actually hiding with your assistant Jenna, waiting to come on the stage to surprise you. Of course, he wouldn't miss your birthday, even if he has to reschedule the concerts. You were absolutely worth it. As he waits for the part of the song he's gonna crash in, Jenna and Anna are making sure you don't accidentally notice Niall before time. The plan is for Anna to quickly distract you on one side while Niall comes out on the other side of the stage.

'' (...)

We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Lover '' as you sing that part, you notice Anna waving at you like a maniac, distracting you and mouthing something to you. As you're trying to figure out what is she saying, the crowd starts screaming, and you freeze as the familiar voice starts to sing the next part of the song

''Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand...''

The song soon comes to an end, and you're bringing Niall into another hug. He just smiles and wraps his arms around your waist. '' Happy birthday, angel. I hope you don't mind me crashing. '' You just shake your head while holding him as close as you can. '' You are always welcome to crash my show. The next song is your song anyway, so you might as well stay and sing with me. '' he pulls away and looks at you. '' Let's go finish this show, so I can give you all the birthday kisses and hugs you want. ''

You turn around with your hand on your mouth, as the man himself makes his way towards you. You're in absolute shock because this man is supposed to be in America. He only laughs at your reaction as he pulls you towards him in a tight hug while still singing. Hugging him back, not wanting to let go of him. Slightly pulling away, looking him directly in his beautiful blue eyes while singing.

'' I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover ''

[misscarolineshelby]

The Last Semester – Part Eleven

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,530

Warning: Fluff, Lot’s of Dialogue, Angst

Previous Parts:  Part One; Part Two; Part Three*; Part Four*; Part Five*; Part Six; Part Seven; Part Eight; Part Nine; Part Ten

Original Blog: @queenshelby 

Friday morning approached quickly and you haven’t slept for two nights, ever since you overheard Emma’s and Thomas’s conversation.

Over the past two days, you observed Emma on the phone pretty much constantly, texting and the previous night she didn’t sleep at home either.

You felt ill to your stomach, imagining Cillian, who you were clearly still in love with, with your younger friend and roommate Emma.

She finally got what she wanted for weeks now and you knew you should be happy for her, but you couldn’t.

With bags beneath your eyes and a coffee in your hand, you made your way to university for your one-on-one session with Cillian.

You were dreading it. You hadn’t heard from him for the past two days and you were worried about saying something wrong, about snapping at him and about crying again in front of him.

When you finally arrived at university, Cillian was already waiting for you in the lecture room, playing around on his phone.

‘Alright, let’s get this over and done with’ you said as you walked in and sat down in one of the chairs.

‘Are you alright?’ Cillian asked, paying attention to your pale face and bags beneath your eyes.

‘I am fine’ you said sharply while Cillian pulled out the form you had filled in.

‘I didn’t submit this to the unit coordinator for obvious reasons’ Cillian said, raising an eyebrow at you as he did.

‘Thanks. I may have acted a little impulsive that day. I was angry. I am sorry’ you said as you re-read the many curse words you had scribbled onto the questionnaire.

‘Well, I suppose I deserved it’ Cillian said first before continuing on after short pause. ‘Do you want to write something else perhaps? Something I can submit to the unit co-ordinator?’ Cillian chuckled, locking eyes with you for the first time since the phone call where he ended it.

You nodded and took the paper out of his hands.

‘Any suggestions?’ you asked and Cillian quickly gave you a few ideas while kneeling next to you, looking at you with his big blue eyes.

‘You know, I honestly don’t think that you need any help with your role from me’ Cillian then went on to say after you filled in the questionnaire again and handed it to him.

‘I told you that’ you said, rolling your eyes playfully, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘I can just sign off on your paper if you like. If you want to go, you don’t need to be here. Although, I was hoping that I could talk to you about some private matters first’ Cillian said calmly.

‘Private matters?’ you asked, sighing as you did.

‘About us’ Cillian then said quickly.

‘There is no us anymore Cillian’ you responded, putting your pencil case back into your bag before standing up quickly.

As soon as you stood up, your head started spinning and the floor began to move, causing you to hold onto the desk in front of you.

‘Y/N?’ Cillian asked, helping you to sit back down.

‘Fuck’ you murmured, taking a deep breath as you felt the room move beneath you and above you all at the same time.

‘What’s wrong?’ Cillian asked concerned, holding your hand momentarily.

‘I am dizzy’ you barely managed to say and Cillian quickly handed you some of his water.

‘I will take you to the nurse’ Cillian suggested but, just as he helped you get up, you collapsed into his arms, hitting the side of your head on the corner of the desk.

‘I need some help in here’ Cillian shouted out in panic, which was the last thing you could remember.

***

A beeping sound was what, eventually, woke you up slowly and when your eyes flickered open, you saw bright ceiling lights and smelled the scent of disinfectant. It was atrocious, like a clinic or hospital of some sort.

‘Y/N?’ you eventually heard a voice say before you could feel gentle fingers tracing through your hair.

You managed to look to the side, your vision still blurry as you saw Cillian sit there right next to you.

‘What happened?’ you asked surprised, still fuzzy in your head.

‘You fainted’ he said calmly, his finders slowly moving away from your hair while, at the same time, you moved your arms to the side.

‘Hang on’ Cillian said, putting your arms back down, which is when you realised that you were hooked up to several machines.

‘What is all this?’ you asked, looking down at your arms.

‘An iron transfusion and fluids with some painkillers’ the nurse said as she walked into the room. ‘How are you feeling now mam?’ she went on to ask.

‘Tired’ you responded, looking at Cillian with some confusion.

‘Dizzy?’ she then asked and you shook your head.

‘Good’ the nurse was quick to say before pulling a wheely chair close towards your bed and flickering a bright small light into your eyes.

‘You, my young lady, are anaemic and haven’t taken your iron tablets. You probably also have been stressed, a lack of sleep perhaps, adding to the dilemma. We had to place five stitches onto your forehead but there are no signs of concussion. Nonetheless, you need to be supervised for the next 24 hours so I will leave you and…’ the nurse said before asking ‘who are you to Miss L/N?’.

‘A friend’ Cillian said which is when the nurse realised that he shouldn’t have been there in the room with you as only relatives and next of kin were permitted.

‘It’s alright, please. My family is in Ireland’ you explained to the nurse and she quickly nodded, allowing Cillian to stay.

‘Well, you need to make arrangements to have someone with you for the next 24 hours’ she then continued to say before leaving the room to organise the discharge papers and Cillian was quick to suggest that you call your roommate Emma to ensure that she will be home.

‘Em is in Manchester, visiting her mother for the weekend. But you should know that, shouldn’t you?’ you chuckled.

Cillian looked at you with some confusion. ‘And why would I know that?’ he then went on to ask.

‘Well, aren’t you sleeping with her?’ you asked bluntly, causing Cillian’s eyes to widen. Then, suddenly he began to laugh.

‘I think the nurse is wrong and you might be concussed after all. What on earth makes you think that I am sleeping with Emma?’ Cillian asked slightly humoured.

‘During your one on one session…did nothing happen between you?’ you asked somewhat surprised.

‘I cancelled her session. It’s not until next week now’ Cillian said. ‘What makes you think that I would sleep with Emma anyway?’ he then laughed.

‘I just. I don’t know. I am sorry’ you said, realising that, perhaps, you misunderstood what you had heard when Emma spoke to Thomas about her day at university that Wednesday.

‘You are a goose you know that?’ Cillian chuckled, amused by your utmost ridiculous suspicions.

‘A goose?’ you laughed before advising Cillian that this something your father would have said, trying to tease him.

‘Talking of your dad, you might want to call him and tell him that you are alright. I called him when they brought you in here and I realised that you left your walled with your ID and healthcare card in your locker at uni. He faxed copies through to reception and, needless to say, he was rather worried’ Cillian explained.

‘You called my dad?’ you asked somewhat surprised, knowing however, that Cillian did the right thing by calling him. But this raised one important question.

‘How did you know his number?’ you asked surprised and, just as you did, the nurse returned.

‘Have we made arrangements yet?’ she asked and you advised her that there was no one home at your apartment over the weekend.

‘You will need to stay here then I am afraid’ the nurse said, which was when Cillian offered to stay with you for the next 24 hours if you wanted.

You immediately thought that this would be a terrible idea but you hated hospitals. It was almost like a phobia for you after having spent weeks in hospital care following appendicitis several years ago.    

‘Okay, thank you’ you eventually said and the nurse handed Cillian the discharge papers to input his address and contact details.

In that moment, Cillian’s phone rang and he picked up quickly, seeing that it was your father who called.

‘She is awake and getting discharged’ you overheard Cillian say before, for a minute or two, listening to your father, his voice noticeable and loud, forcing Cillian to move his ear away from the phone slightly.

‘Yes man, I will make sure’ Cillian then went on to say and you could hear your father rambling on in the background again even louder than before. The name Emma came up many times and you knew that your father disliked Emma, thinking that she was unreliable and a bad influence for you.

‘She is staying with me’ Cillian then went on to say before suggesting that he speak to you directly.

‘Man, she is right here, she can tell you’ Cillian chuckled, shaking his head before handing his phone to you which is also when you realised that Cillian and your father knew each other.

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo​ @vhscillian​ @ysmmsy​ @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  ​

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby

[hinatastinygiant]

Chapter Six

Pairing: Mitsuya x Fem!Reader

Wicked Games Masterlist

The following morning you wake up with your phone buzzing from under your pillow. You pull it out and open your eyes just enough to peer at the contact name that's blowing you up with messages. It's too early for Hanma to be bothering you, so what the fuck? And when the name DRAKEN registers in your brain, you almost turn your phone on silent and go back to bed.

What are the odds that he's texting me to say he broke it off with Emma just for me?

You scoff to yourself as you unlock your phone, deciding to check what is so damn important that he feels the need to spam you. However, as you begin to read the texts, you immediately sit up in bed.

DRAKEN: Get your ass to Toman right now Y/N!

"Oh shit! What did I do?!" you gasp as you jump up and out of your bed.

The thoughts race through your brain, trying to think of what you possibly did to piss him off. You get dressed as quickly as you can and race across town on the motorcycle you'd purchased after joining Toman and gaining the financial stability.

After hopping off your bike and running in search of Draken, when you finally find him you bend over with your hands on your knees and catch your breath.

"I came here, huff, as fast as I could," you tell him, though you don't get a single word in response.

You then look up where you see he looks like he's just about ready to kill you with his annoyingly huge bare hands.

"What's wrong?" you ask bravely, despite that your insides are trembling in fear.

He grabs you by the shoulder roughly and pulls you with him towards Mikey where he eventually dumps you off. Just like you, Mikey looks extremely confused.

"What's wrong?" the commander asks.

"Y/N's a damn traitor," Draken spits.

"What!?" you gasp. "No, I'm not. What the hell?! I didn't even do anything. What are you talking about, Draken?!"

"Keep lying, see where that gets you," he scoffs. "You gave the Otsuda gang, a rival gang, one million yen for who knows what reason!"

Memories of the previous night flood back to you. Kisaki had told you Mikey signed off on it. Sure, you were a bit skeptical, but seeing the darkness grow in Mikey's eyes you can be sure that he knew nothing about it.

"Did you do that?" he asks, trying to give you the benefit of the doubt.

"I, uh, I did..." you mutter.

I can't tell Mikey the truth. If he found out everything else that happened I'd be in even deeper shit for not telling them earlier. How am I going to get out of this!?

"Mikey, listen, I didn't know they were a rival gang. I-"

"Bullshit," Draken calls out.

Being called out like that is like being cornered and pushed up against a wall. You feel incredibly small compared to the two of them hovering and glaring down darkly at you. You can almost feel Mikey's foot against your face, smacking you to the ground and firing you from Toman.

But then, like an angel from out of nowhere, a new voice asks to give you a bit of room to breathe.

"Stay out of this, Mitsuya," Draken groans. "Don't get involved in her mess."

"If I did that then you'd be punishing her for something that isn't her fault," he sighs as he continues to approach the three of you.

"I put you in charge of our money so you wouldn't lose it," Mikey grumbles. "Where the hell did it go then?"

Mitsuya once again stops the two of them and delicately explains that Kisaki tricked you into thinking that Toman had already owed the Otsuda gang that much.

Draken scoffs in disbelief. "You actually believed that lie?"

"Well, uh, I don't think Y/N has been feeling well the last few days," Mitsuya adds. "I've been... taking care of her."

Some caretaker.

Mikey, by this point, looks completely lost. His eyes are blank as if he's stopped following the conversation altogether. Or maybe he's trying to piece everything together? Who knows.

"Why didn't you stop it?" the confused commander asks.

"I didn't know until it was already too late," Mitsuya explains.

Draken narrows his eyes, still very skeptical about the captain's explanation. "You should have told us before now."

"That is why I'm here now," Mitsuya smiles slyly.

As Mitsuya and Draken share an awkward moment of tension, you can tell that both the commander and vice-commander are unsure of what to actually believe.

"Fine," Mikey sighs. "Don't let it happen again." He then turns to Draken, saying something that makes your heart and stomach sink. "Go get that angry-looking guy and the one with the burn mark."

"Are you kidding me?!" you interrupt. "You're gonna ask him for money instead of letting me get it?"

Draken then walks between you and Mikey, briefly interrupting your vision for a moment. When he passes, the look on your commander's face is most definitely different now.

"Of course I am. But the next time this happens, instead, I'll kill you."

Your whole body tenses at his harsh words. "Yes, of course. I got it! I'm sorry, Mikey!" you say as you bend yourself down to bow.

He then sighs. "Stand up, Y/N." When you do as you're told, he takes an additional step towards you and examines your face. "Mitsuya's right, you don't look well. How have you been feeling?"

"Ehh?! Oh, um, better now, I suppose. Mitsuya was watching me so there's no need to worry," you half-lie.

Mikey looks over at Mitsuya and quirks a bow. "Oh? And what about the Shibas?"

Shibas? Is Mikey referring to Hakkai's siblings, too? Why would he ask that?

Mitsuya shakes his head calmly. "Hakkai and Yuzuha are fine. Luna and Mana are away on vacation so I had time to watch Y/N for a bit. It wasn't a problem."

Mikey nods as if he's accepted Mitsuya's answer. "Okay. The two of you can go. Feel better, Y/N."

"Thanks," you reply with a somewhat-nervous smile.

When you and Mitsuya get far enough away from Mikey, you let out a sigh of relief. You never thought you'd actually be this grateful to have seen Mitsuya after that night.

"I think Mikey might really kill me if he finds out the truth," you sigh.

"He won't," he assures you. "Just do as he says and stop going to the damn club."

As you reach your bike, you dismiss Mitsuya's comment. "Yeah, whatever. I'm going home to sleep."

Mitsuya looks concerned, but you don't bother to look back until after you've already taken off on your bike. You look through your rearview mirror towards where you left him in the dust, silently thanking him for saving you back there.

Wicked Games Masterlist

Taglist: @wakasa-wifey @sseorin @jinchuriki-hunter @darkmess0 @LunaStellaNova @daiserenade @plaggi PLS LMK IF YOU WEREN'T NOTIFIED!

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed The Radio Star - Chapter 2 (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A/N: I’ve gotten so much positive feedback and a lot of people seem to like so I am so happy to share another chapter with you all! In this chapter I will put Asterisks  (***) before anything that might seem triggering to some viewers just to give you all a heads up! I would also like to add that virginity is a concept made by man and if you are/aren’t one that is valid as hell!- much love, Em❤️

Warnings: torture, blood, cursing, distributing individual / content, sex talk, sensitive material ahead.

Plot: The team works to find you before the situation escalates, you spend time in a less fiery version of hell.

Word Count: 2.2k

“This girl made my job easier,” Garcia was logging into your computer with a smile “, It was never difficult, but now I get to skip a few tiny steps.” She was searching through your emails, looking for any messages that could have been from your stalker, there was nothing so far. So she moved to your phone records, unknown calls, texts, anything that could help.

She did find one call from an unknown number that had left a voicemail a few minutes before two in the morning on the night of your abduction, but the only thing that she could get from it was the sounds of sobs before the line goes dead.

The rest of the team was combing your apartment in Richmond. The most impressive thing about this whole case was how you knew something was going to happen and the evidence you left behind for them. Sticky notes decorated your desk, labeling everything from your passwords to the gifts your stalker had left you. Another thing that shocked the team was seeing photos of almost all of them, you didn’t get one of Garcia, with little sticky notes next to them.

The sticky notes contained little comments like “Fine as hell,” that one was for Reid, Morgan teased him about it before he looked at his own picture that had the note of “Arms?? Yes?”

It seemed like you had a sense of humor that you didn’t let on in your videos. It made Prentiss laugh, but as soon as she did her eyes looked down at the carpet, seeing a single rose petal near your nightstand. Instead of being red like all of the others, it was the pale color of pink. “It looks like the Unsub is in love with her,” she bent down to pick up the petal with a glove “, or whatever their demented version of love is.”

Reid was focusing on the books, you had a tiny library growing at your house filled with classics, some fiction, others nonfiction. He took note that you already had copies of the Brontë sister collection in your library, and they looked slightly worn down. He couldn’t help but wonder why the Unsub would give you books you already owned. Was it just for their notes? Why couldn’t they use the copies you already own?

Hotch tore Spencer away from his thoughts “The bed was neatly made and there are no signs of struggle, indicating that our Unsub probably made the bed and had time to clean up.”

“Or that she was too afraid to sleep, either way, they probably drugged her and got her out of here as fast as they could,” Prentiss added as she searched the bed for any other evidence.

Reid hummed as he watched Prentiss flip pillows over “It could have been someone she knew, a friend maybe?”

“We can’t rule out anything.” Hotch said as he looked at his wrist for the time “Ried, go with Morgan to the library. Prentiss and I will visit the family.”

                                                      ***

March 6, 20XX

The night of your abduction you were sitting on your couch, holding one of the decorative pillows close to your chest as you watched the black screen of your television. You felt numb, after you recorded your video you broke down. It started off as crying and then slowly developed into a panic attack, but now you were on your couch trying to think about anything but this horrible situation. You glanced over at the time seeing it was nearing two in the morning, you had already called your mother. She told you to come home and you said you would in the morning.

You couldn’t think about her right now, you started to cry, finding it surprising that you still had enough water in your body to cry again. Sobs escaped your mouth, then something pricked your neck and the world was gone.

When you woke up it all felt so soft. You felt like you were laying on the softest bed ever created, your eyes fought against you, opening slowly in fluttering moments. The room was illuminated in a wondrous pink light, you smiled in your drugged state before it all registered. You suddenly felt hot, on fire, everything was on fire. You attempted to sit up on the bed, slipping back down with a yell, red rose petals flying up around you as you collided with the bed. You carefully sat up, looking down at the bed, if you hadn’t just been kidnapped you would think was romantic.

You tried to pull your legs up to your chest, but you screamed out in pain. Your eyes darted around the bed, in a terrified attempt to stay calm as you looked down at your leg. Bile found its way into your throat, burning in your esophagus as you looked down at your snapped ankle. You vomited off the side of the bed, your body shaking vigorously.

“Catherine,”  A terribly sweet female voice spoke, “ My sweet Catherine, you’re awake.”

You coughed lightly before spitting the rest of the vomit out of your mouth, turning your head to look towards the sound of the voice seeing a familiar and beautiful brunette woman smiling over at you. “My name isn’t Catherine,”

“Yes, it is. You’re Catherine Earnshaw, Jane Eyre,” she walked closer, her hair swaying to and fro gently “ Hell, You’re Emma Woodhouse and I am,”

“Crazy, you’re fucking crazy!” you screamed.

“I’m Heathcliff! I am Mr. Rochester! I am Mr. Knightley!” She screamed back at you, her happy demeanor changing in a second, rage decorating her face for a simple second before she let out a calming sigh and smiled once again. “I’m sorry, my sweet, I didn’t mean to scream at you like that. I love you.”

Tears were streaming down your face as you nodded, slowly “You love me,” too afraid to speak out against her again, you nodded through your tears.

She sat on the edge of the bed, that you were slowly realizing was indeed heart-shaped. She reached her hand out, you flinched feeling it land on your head, her hand petting your hair gently.

March 8, 20XX

Morgan was smiling a considerate smile across the table at one of your coworkers, Noelle. She was a pretty blonde, had a sweet smile. The only thing they got out of her was that you were single, her eyes stayed on Reid when she said that, and that you were nice to everyone. Baked for people on their birthdays, or days they were struggling, you were… you are considerate.

Reid hated to admit that the nicest people always seemed to capture the attention of the most dangerous people. Unwanted, cruel, attention.

Spencer excused himself, stepping away to take a look around the vast library. There was a small cafe in the corner of the library, it was possible that the unsub first met you here, checking out a book or something of that kind. He went back to Noelle, “Would you say that Y/N had admirers?”

“Not really, but there was something in December,” she let out a soft sound as she gathered her memories “,this woman came in, beautiful, said she knew Y/N from college or something. It was a weekend so she wasn’t working, but uh she was nice, wanted to buy Y/N a Christmas gift, and asked what she would like. Y/N likes roses, she likes romantic stuff so that’s what I told her.”

Morgan’s eyes widen, holding back his comments as he thanked Noelle for her time before turning back to Reid “A Woman?”

Spencer nodded, trying to make connections in his head. The books and the roses made sense, why the blood-soaked panties?  The roses because of what Noelle said, Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre were classic romance books. He had read them both, but he wanted to see your new copies of the books, your annotated versions.

As for the blood-soaked pair of panties, his mind went to one thing, innocence. Assuming that you weren’t a virgin anymore the blood covering them would mean that your innocence was already taken from you. The unsub might’ve given them to you to remind you what you’d lost or to make the threat that you should have stayed a virgin, that you should’ve stayed innocent. However, despite your so-called ‘ruin’, it seems that she still loves you, hence the gifts.

Spencer assumed that the unsub thought that the two of you were connected through romance, maybe even a taboo type of romance. The romanticism of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre made that fairly obvious to him, as well as the rest of the team. Red roses symbolized romance, while the pink rose symbolized admiration and grace, indicating that your relationship with the unsub could have been anything but new.

“Can we get a map of all of the florists in the area?”

                                                            ***

You pressed your face into the cushions, it was a weekday and she had yet to come in. Heather, after a day or two you finally remembered who she was, Heather Alexander, she lived on your floor your freshman year of college. She was quiet, sweet, and, apparently, crazy. In college, she seemed less glamorous, wore glasses, had quirky hair, complete with a babyface. You used to invite her over whenever you would bake something sweet, till one day she was gone. Dropped out.

Now, almost seven years later, she seemed so broken. Living in a delusion, thinking that she was some hero or romantic interest of yours. The two of you were destined to be together, well that is until you live out the fate of Catherine Earnshaw and die.

You found it painful to cry at this point, you were so dehydrated and tired that you didn’t even try to force the tears out. It wasn’t that you were too tired to fight, well that was to be debated, you still had plenty of fight left in you. You were playing it safe, the thing that was holding you back from fighting was your mother. You couldn’t bring yourself to put yourself in danger, you needed to hold on to her, you needed to see her again and you knew she needed to see you again. So, you did what you thought was best, for now, lie in bed and feel numb.

It wasn’t that hard to feel numb, given that Heather had you hooked up to a morphine drip. You learned that whenever she was mad at you she would call you Emma, sometimes Jane, but for the most part you were Catherine. When you were Catherine,  she would give you all the morphine you wanted for your broken ankle and when you were Emma or Jane she would ween you off till she saw fit. So if you were Catherine, you would feel numb, feel okay at least for now.

You were staring up at the ceiling, feeling especially stoic, when you heard keys jingle at the door. It opened, showing a glimpse of a regularly lighted room, fluorescent as ever, before leaving you and Heather in this disgustingly pink room. “Catherine,” she threw her keys off towards the counter in the corner of the room. You were too drugged up to think about an escape plan, too drugged up to do anything but stare up at the ceiling. It felt so desperately good to be numb, you barely noticed when she touched you, but as soon as you did her touch felt like fire. “Catherine,” she leaned in close, her lips meeting yours in a second. Heather kissed you with her eyes closed, you always kept your eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling waiting for her harassment to be over. You never kissed back and she didn’t seem to mind so long as she was enjoying herself.

Heather pulled away with a childlike grin “Did you enjoy yourself today? I wish I could have stayed with you, but duty called!” Your eyes traveled down to the name on her uniform, it was the name of a floral shop near your work, the roses.

Your speech was slow and slurred, causing Heather to reach over to the morphine drip, fixing it so you would get lower levels of the drug, but that wouldn’t start working for a couple of hours. Heather seemed to know that so she simply got up, walked away, grabbed her keys, and went towards the door “You can answer in a few hours. Till then, my Catherine.”

                                                           ***

Prentiss watched your mother as she played with her hands, her mouth trembling as she spoke “Y/N called me when it all started,” she looked up, her eyes shifting between Prentiss and Hotch “I should have listened, oh I should have listened!”

“Mrs. L/N, you didn’t know this would happen. You can’t blame yourself here.” Prentiss offered comfort towards your mother only for her to let out a heartbreaking wail of pain.

“She’s all I have.”

Hotch and Prentiss were walking down the porch steps with a tin of chocolate chip cookies, a habit of her’s that you had picked up on. Prentiss looked over at Hotch, whose eyes betrayed him, she didn’t say anything about the look in his eyes. She knew that he probably didn’t want her to ask. She blew out a sigh as they got into the car

“Need a cookie?”

[captain-josslett]

Broken Melody - Part Thirty Six

Masterlist

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 6.2k+

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, PTSD episode

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers x Sam Arias

This Part: Emma tries to continue on after the surgery. But are things starting to get in the way?

Well this part happened quicker then the other 😅

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom

The days go by in a blur for Emma. She mainly stays in bed or lays on the sofa, under a blanket, as the tv plays a film she isn’t paying attention to. Instead she stays in the pain that is surrounding her, allowing herself to feel it’s overwhelming darkness.

Her sisters, mom and friend’s come and visit her, to try and help bring her out of the pit she was in. But nothing was working.

“She just needs time.” Alistair reassures Lena over the phone. “She will come back when she’s ready.”

Lena struggles with this but continues to work in her home office, popping out of the room every now and then to check on her girlfriend and spend time with her. Gently encouraging Emma to eat, to stay hydrated and do things she enjoys, like video gaming or play her guitar. But Emma mainly stayed in a vegative state. Barely blinking or moving. Even when Lena crawls into bed next to her and reads aloud a novel she is reading.

After a few more days, Lena recognises that Emma was slowly coming back to her. One time she turns away from her girlfriend to head back into her office and the sound of Emma tuning her guitar fills the living area. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face when she heard that sound. She delayed closing her office door just to listen for a few minutes as Emma started to play a beautiful melody. One filled with pain and hope. She messaged the Superfriends group chat in relief.

That evening Emma apologised for her behaviour, but Lena dismissed it. Knowing Emma needed to wallow and reassured her of this.

But today was Saturday, a week since the unsuccessful surgery. Emma slowly wakes up, the room already in a soft glow from the rising sun.

A pained moan makes her eyes snap open.

‘Lena?’ Her mind queries and Emma turns around to see Lena sitting on the edge of the bed. Her shoulders tense and knuckles white as she grips the sheets around her.

Another pained gasp emits from Lena’s mouth and Emma quickly shuffles over and places her hands on Lena’s shoulders.

“Oh!” The raven haired beauty jumps. “Sorry, did I- wake you?”

At the hitch in Lena’s sentence Emma quickly moves next to her girlfriend and studies Lena’s face, realising her face is paler than normal.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not.”

“Stupid, bloody period.”

A heavy snort escapes Emma’s nose at Lena’s unknowing pun. But quickly holds her girlfriend as the raven haired beauty leans heavily on her shoulder, her head resting against her chest and groans.

“Hope, text Sam that Lena can’t work today.” Emma manages to sign while keeping Lena from falling to the floor. Despite it being the weekend Lena had scheduled a meeting with some new investors, but to Emma, they can wait.

“Okay, message sent.” Hope’s voice response.

“What- what message?” Lena grits out. “Fuck, why does it hurt so much?”

Carefully Emma places an arm under Lena’s shaking legs and lifts her delicately back onto the bed.

“No, I have an-” Lena gasps and whines as she scrunches up her eyes. “important- meeting soon.” Lena whimpers into Emma’s chest as the blonde holds her close.

“Excuse me but Sam is calling.”

“Put her through.” Emma signs to the AI.

“Lee, Em? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine!” Lena calls out and tries to sit up, only to grimace and curl into herself again.

“Lena is in no fit state to work. Please apologise and reschedule her meeting.” Emma signs and Hope relays her message.

“No! I’m fine!” Lena grits out after hearing Hope speak out Emma’s words.

“No you are not!” Emma signs, feeling anger and concern bubbling up for her girlfriend and wishes Hope’s voice could portray how she is feeling, instead of being a calming, steady voice.

“Okay, thank you for letting me know.” Sam responds and movement can be heard by the brunette.

“No! Sam don’t!” Lena yells out, pushing herself out of Emma’s arms, stumbles off the bed and onto her feet to try and get ready.

“Lee, please rest, it’s okay, we have things covered here.” Sam orders but tries to keep a softness to her voice, knowing how stubborn Lena can be. “And Emma, thanks for letting me know. I hope you are getting the rest you need too.”

But before Emma or Lena can answer Sam ends the call.

Suddenly Lena whirls around, her expression thunderous. “You!”

Emma gulps and shuffles back across the bed. Creating distance between them.

“I’m fine! Why did you interfere?!” Lena shouts as she grabs her phone and immediately calls Sam back as she gets ready. “Don’t you dare cancel or change anything! I’m coming in.”

Emma stays frozen as she watches Lena stagger out of the walk-in wardrobe, dressed in a navy, three piece suit, her hair tied into a tight bun and storms towards the door. She yanks it open with a bang and doesn’t look back. Emma lets a few tears slip out when she hears the front door slam shut.

The sound echoes around the apartment and makes Emma wince as it reverberates loudly in her head and bends the very air around her. Causing her simmering headache to boil painfully. Her senses start overwhelming her and she knows she needs to leave the apartment before it starts closing in around her. She doesn’t want to fall back into the darkness she has just escaped.

Emma quickly wipes the tears away and shakily heads into the bathroom. The image of Lena’s furious face and the sound of her angry voice plays around in her mind.

Next Emma quickly heads into the walk-in wardrobe and picks up Lena’s discarded clothes, folding them up neatly onto a nearby chair. Seeing the day was going to be warm and sunny, the blonde chooses denim shorts, a plain, white t-shirt and her black and white Converse shoes.

Opening her small jewelry box, Emma looks for her necklace before remembering, with a pang, that the necklace no longer exists. Instead she places multiple bracelets on her right wrist, Apple Watch on her left wrist and a few rings on her fingers.

Her finger tip absently rubs against her left ring finger, one she has always kept bare. Slowly Emma goes to her bedside table, sits on the bed and slides open the drawer. Carefully she moves a few journals and art supplies aside to reveal a small, velvet box.

Emma takes a deep breath before opening the box, revealing a delicate, white gold, emerald ring.

-- -- --

“Come on Em!” Jack motions for Emma to stop taking selfies with fans and hurry into the famed New York jewelry boutique. They have completed their successful farewell World tour and are now starting their farewell American tour, with New York being their first city.

“Sorry guys! I gotta go!” Emma calls loudly and backs away from the screaming crowd being held back by security. “Was nice meeting all of you!” Emma waves and beams at the fans as they respond in kind. Blowing her kisses and shouting her name.

“So, why are we here again?” Emma asks Jack as they step through the doors and are ushered to a secluded section of the shop.

“I want to get an anniversary present for Ally and as the others are useless at this kind of thing and you are going to be my best woman at my wedding, you are the only choice.”

“Aw you’re too kind.” Emma quips and looks down at the glass displays. “So, ring or earrings or bracelet or necklace. Or all of the above?” Emma lists off, knowing how indecisive Jack can be.

“Well, as she already has a ring-” He taps a beat on the wood of the display case as he thinks. “Maybe a necklace and earrings? To go with the ring?”

“That could work.” Emma nods and starts looking for something that could match while a jeweler approaches Jack to assist him.

Emma enjoys looking over the many beautiful items displayed and can’t help but imagine certain pieces on her loved ones.

Then she sees it and her breath catches.

“Wow.” Emma whispers at the sight of the delicate ring with an emerald in its center.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” A jeweler asks.

“Very.” Emma responds and bites the inside on her lip. “May I have a closer look please?”

“Certainly!” The jeweler unlocks the display and carefully places the ring on a leather mat.

“May I pick it up?” Emma asks hesitantly and the jeweler nods.

“This ring was crafted by a master in Ireland and combines the best of Irish traditions with the unique, vintage look.” The jeweler explains as Emma studies the ring from all angles, admiring its beauty. “He likes to craft a lot of meaning and symbolism into his rings. For example, with the emerald. Emeralds have a long association of love dating back to the Goddesses Venus and Aphrodite. This symbolism combines perfectly with the fine Trinity Knot detailing in the shoulders of this ring which represents eternity and eternal love.”

“And what about the two small diamonds on either side of the emerald?” Emma asks, intrigued by what she is hearing.

“That Madame, is just a match made in heaven and more to do with completing the pleasing aesthetic nature of the ring.”

Emma nods and can’t help but feel a pull towards the ring. Imagining it on Lena’s finger, signifying their love and commitment to each other.

“What you got there Em?” Jack asks beside her, making Emma jump.

“I- er…” Her cautious eyes lift up to meet his warm, blue ones, worry fills her at what he would think.

“Looks to me like an engagement ring.” He grins at the blonde and Emma swallows.

“Yea. Is it too soon?”

“Do you think it is?” Jack asks, making Emma stare down at the ring in her hands.

“No. I’d marry Lee today if she’d let me.”

“Well then, why not buy it? You’ve known Lena for how many years? Plus you are both so sickenly sweet together, it's meant to be.”

“Okay.” Emma beams at him and holds the ring out for the jeweler to place in a velvet ring box.

-- -- --

Silently sighing Emma closes the lid of the box and places it right at the back of her drawer. Making sure it's well hidden under a few journals and her art supplies.

Despite Emma’s world getting turned upside down, her love for Lena has only grown more over the past few months. And even though Lena’s words and demeanor hurt Emma this morning, she knows Lena didn’t really mean it. That the stress can sometimes bring out Lena’s bitchy side and her Luthorism that orders for utter perfection.

A pulse of noise and energy hits Emma and she winces before quickly sliding the drawer shut and placing the face modifier on her ear. When she engages it she does not bother to choose a face but lets the computer select one. With the sun shining outside Emma goes to the drawer by the apartment door where her sunglasses are kept. But her hand falters as she reaches down to pick a pair up. Next to them are a spare pair of Kara’s glasses, ones she had left a few weeks ago at their last sister’s night in the apartment.

Slowly Emma picks them up and puts them on. Immediately her headache fades to an almost nonexistent dull ache, the flashes of colour and detail stop, the room quietens around her.

‘Well, shit.’ Emma closes her eyes at the implications and removes the glasses, immediately being hit with noise and overwhelming pain. Putting them back on Emma opens her eyes and bites her lip. ‘I’ll tell them tonight.’ Emma agrees with herself and grabs her keys to leave the apartment.

Emma heads towards the beach, listening to relaxing instrumental music and focuses on her breathing. Desperately trying to zone out her mind’s never ending dialogue of Lena’s words and actions. The panic that filled her as she moved away from Lena’s rage, her mind tricking her into thinking Lena’s eyes glowed red.

Instead she tries to enjoy what’s happening  in the moment. Focusing on what is going on around her, the laughter and squeals of children playing in the sand. The movement of the sea as it laps against the shore.

In seemingly no time at all, Emma blinks when she realises how far she’s walked as the beach hut cafe comes into view. A wave of tiredness hits her and Emma decides to go in and treat herself to lunch, managing to find a spot by the window.

She orders and continues to watch the waves, being mesmerised by its beauty. Her phone pings and Emma reaches into her pocket to retrieve her phone, seeing it was a message from Kara.

Kara: Hi Emma! So guess what?! Ben has asked me out on a date! A date! Rao I can’t believe it! Anyway, I can’t come to sister night so Alex and I have decided to postpone it. Hope that’s okay?

Emma’s shoulders deflate as she reads the message, she’s happy for Kara but was really looking forward to spending some quality time with her sisters. She sits back for a moment to think how she will word her response.

Emma: Hi Kar, wow that sounds awesome! Do you need help in choosing what to wear like we did with Al? And that’s okay about sister’s night, can we meet tomorrow?

Immediately the three dots appear when Emma sends her text and Kara’s response soon pings.

Kara: Alex has already made plans with Sam 🥺 But we will fit it in somewhere! And thank you but I don’t need any help as Ben and I are going to a coffee shop he likes to go to, so it is more of a casual thing.

Emma: Ah that’s cool, how are you feeling about it?

Kara: Soooo nervous! I don’t know how I’m going to concentrate. Rao I hope there’s no disaster or anything that crops up!

Emma: Yea but don’t Nia and J’onn have you covered for tonight anywhere?

Kara: Yea but would be difficult if it happens near where we are and I have to act like helpless Kara Danvers.

Emma: Lol! Kara Danvers is never helpless, she is a badass reporter.

Kara: Aww! Ooo I gotta go. See ya later alligator!

Emma: In a while crocodile. 🐊

Emma stares at her phone and breathes out her disappointment while she waits for her food to arrive. Although, her appetite seems to have diminished somewhat.

Afterwards Emma slowly walks along the beach, back towards the city. Over half way her stride starts to falter from exhaustion and she sits on the steps by the beach, the surgery and time laying around, seemingly catching up on her.

Taking off her shoes, Emma digs her feet into the sand, enjoying the smooth feel as she runs it through her fingers.

Her phone pings again and another message soon follows. Then another. Rubbing her hand on her shorts Emma gets her phone to read the messages.

Lena: Emma, where are you?

Lena: I’m sorry about earlier

Lena: I shouldn’t have yelled

Lena: Please tell me you are okay

Emma hesitates for a moment but finds her fingers typing out a response.

Emma: I’m okay

Lena: Where are you?

Emma: Out enjoying the sunshine.

Lena: That's nice, but where?

Emma: On the beach… Somewhere between home and beach hut.

Sighing, Emma slowly stands and grabs her shoes, deciding to walk in the surf until she will need to go back up to street level.

-- -- --

‘Dammit Emma, where are you?’ Lena thinks desperately as Emma stops responding to her messages.

Lena feels awful about snapping at Emma this morning and wishes she had stayed in bed with her. The meeting with South Korean investors proceeded as planned but Lena couldn’t concentrate like she should have. Her body ached with regular cramping and a flush spread across her body, causing a sheen of sweat to appear on her forehead.

As soon as the investors left, Sam flew Lena back to the apartment and deposited her there on the balcony. Ordering her to rest and not do any more work.

Hope had unlocked the balcony door for her and Lena instantly went to the bedroom, but couldn’t find Emma anywhere. Worry filled her and Lena had immediately messaged Emma.

‘She’s right to be angry with me.’ Lena thinks bitterly as she pulls her hair out of the tight bun. Moaning in relief as the tension in her head starts to disperse as she massages it.

“Hope, can you track where Emma is please?” Lena asks the AI. She had thought about calling Kara or Alex but eventually decides against it.

“Her location is being projected onto your phone.”

Lena looks down and sees the dot focus on a certain area of the beach. ‘She has a good a hour walk home.’ Lena thinks in concern.

Taking some pain killer Lena quickly changes into jeans and a black t-shirt before activating her face modifier and driving the L-car close to where Emma’s location was.

Finding a space she parks and heads down to the beach. Immediately spotting a blonde slowly walking along the shore. Doubt creeps in her mind at whether she is doing the right thing. But she presses on when she sees her girlfriend wobble slightly and stop.

“Emma.” Lena’s voice says softly behind her.

She watches as the blonde lifts her head to the sky and takes a deep breath. Slowly Emma turns around and tilts her head to the side.

“I tracked your phone, I’m sorry, you weren’t answering and I got worried.” Lena quickly explains. “I’m sorry I shouted at you, please come home. Alex and Kara should be there soon and I will-” Lena falters as Emma shakes her head. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sure Kara messaged you?”

“Erm-” Lena opens her phone and sees a few messages from her best friend. Telling her the exciting news she got a date with Ben. “Wow, okay.” She smiles and replies in congratulations. “That’s great though, right?”

“Yea.” Emma signs and a fake smile crosses her lips.

“Love, why-”

“Can we have this discussion at home?” Emma signs and Lena can see how visibly tired she becomes.

“Of course!” Quickly she puts her phone in her pocket and offers her arm to her girlfriend. Emma takes it immediately and they walk to the steps. “Shouldn't you put your shoes on?”

Emma shakes her head and continues on, signaling which way they should go.

“This way.” Lena tugs her to the left and they make it back to the car. “If you get any sand in this car you will be hoovering it up!” Lena jokes causing Emma to snort but she makes sure most, if not all, of the sand is off her feet before she climbs in.

Lena drives them back home and soon they enter the apartment. Immediately the pair take the face modifiers off and Emma yawns before heading to the bathroom.

Lena watches her go and turns to the kitchen to make them both some drinks. When Emma reappears she is wearing comfy loungewear and crawls onto the sofa, silently yawning.

Lena brings the drinks over and sits next to her girlfriend. “So, what was that on the beach?”

Emma swallows and rests her head on the back of the sofa, wincing slightly at the pull on her neck and immediately moves to alleviate the pain.

“Love?”

“It’s silly.” Emma signs and runs a hand through her hair.

“I bet it isn’t.” Lena gently runs her hand up and down Emma’s leg.

“I’m happy for Kara, but I’m disappointed sister night got cancelled.”

“Understandable.” Lena says sympathetically. “But can it just be rescheduled?”

“Yea I guess.” Emma signs and wiggles her nose, moving the glasses.

“You’re still wearing the glasses.” Lena notes with slightly narrowed eyes.

Emma swallows and her stomach clenches. Should she tell Lena now?

“They suit you.” Lena says with an affectionate smile before Emma can do anything. “Good to know for when you’re older and need them!”

Emma smiles and with a silent deep breath she reaches up to remove them. Knowing Lena will question her if she keeps them on for much longer. Thankfully the experience from earlier this morning doesn’t happen again and Emma is able to relax as she places them on the coffee table.

“Em.” Lena’s voice cracks and Emma immediately turns to look at her in concern. “I’m so sorry about what happened this morning. Things have-” Lena pauses and leans heavily against the sofa cushion, Lena resting her head against her hand and bites her lip. As if debating something.

Emma tilts her head at her girlfriend and fully turns her body to face her, crossing her legs in the process.

“Strange things are happening within the company. Investors are pulling out or making completely unrealistic demands.” She massages her neck to try and relieve some tension. “Sam has been amazing and we’re looking at hiring a COO to oversee everything. To make sure L-Corp is being as sufficient as it can be.”

Lena continues and Emma nods as she listens. Signing different questions and trying to be a support for her girlfriend. Not being able to imagine the pressure Lena must be feeling as the CEO.

“All in all, I am sooo looking forward to our getaway.”

“Shall we start looking now?” Emma signs with a grin and reaches for her Macbook Pro.

“That sounds like a great idea. But first I need to slip into something more comfortable.” Lena quickly stands and heads into the bedroom while Emma wakes up her Mac and starts researching different hotels.

‘Maybe you can ask her to marry you there?’ A thought filters through her head and Emma smiles at the idea. Imaging a romantic meal on the beach, at sunset, or cuddled up together by a campfire.

“What are you grinning about?” Lena asks as she reappears and walks over to the sofa.

Emma shakes her head. “Oh nothing!”

“Sure.” Lena narrows her eyes and Emma keeps smiling.

Emma then notices how Lena is hiding something behind her back. “What do you have there?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lena says casually and sits facing Emma with her hands still behind her back. “Pick an arm.”

Now it’s Emma’s turn to slightly narrow her eyes and she taps Lena’s left arm. Lena moves it forward to reveal nothing and Emma taps Lena’s right arm.

A soft smile graces Lena’s face as she slowly reveals a small, velvet box. Emma’s heart flutters when she sees it as it looks similar to her own.

“I- er- I had this made for you.” Lena holds the box out for Emma to take.

‘Okay, she isn’t proposing.’ Emma wants to facepalm herself, instead she takes the box and opens it.

Revealing a beautiful, delicate necklace with a diamond encrusted pendant shaped like a  star.

“I see you go to grab your necklace, sometimes I don’t think you even know you do it. Like how you run your hand through your hair when you're stressed or nervous.” Lena explains anxiously. “I know this will never replace your original necklace but I wanted you to have this, as a reminder of how much I love you. That you are my star, shining in my darkest night, giving me the hope and strength to carry on.”

Tears prick at Emma’s eyes and she sniffs. Truly touched by Lena’s words. Her finger delicately traces the small pendant and she smiles.

“Do you-” Lena starts to ask hesitantly and Emma’s eyes snap up to hers, seeing a timid look in her green eyes.

Placing the box in her lap Emma starts signing. “I love it, it’s so beautiful. Thank you.”

Lena lets out the breath she has been holding in and smiles brightly as she watches Emma take the necklace out.

“May I put it on you?”

Emma nods and swivels herself so her back is facing her girlfriend. She moves her mane of wavy, blonde hair out of the way to give Lena easier access. She shudders slightly as the chain touches her neck, but it soon slides into place on her upper chest as Lena does the clasp.

“Okay.” Lena whispers and kisses Emma’s shoulder. “Can I see?”

Emma pivots back around and Lena’s eyes fall to the necklace and back up to Emma’s face. “It’s beautiful on you. As anything does, I think you could wear a necklace made of bottle caps and you would make it look stunning.”

Emma smiles and voicelessly laughs as she picks up her phone to look at her reflection.

“Thank you, I love it.” Emma leans forward and tilts her head. Lena meets her the rest of the way and they tenderly kiss.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Love it.” Emma corrects.

“Sorry. I’m glad you love it.” Lena looks down at Emma’s Macbook Pro. “So, ready for our next adventure?”

Emma nods and goes to reach for the Pro but Lena stops her.

“Can I sit against you?”

Emma nods, uncrossing her legs and widening them to accommodate her girlfriend. Lena shuffles over to sit in between them and snuggles up against Emma’s chest. She places Emma’s Macbook Pro on her lap and opens the search engine.

“So, when shall we go?”

-- -- --

Emma and Lena really enjoyed looking through different traveller blogs and reviews on where the best hotels were in the Maldives. Deciding on a resort that gives them their own secluded villa, situated over the water.

Lena had been semi serious about just hiring a whole island but let it go when Emma kept shaking her head. Arguing that it was way too much money.

For the rest of the day the pair spend time resting and the next day going for a long drive outside of the city. Lena places her phone onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ and focuses her attention on Emma. Trying to make up for how she spoke to her on Saturday morning.

And despite Lena’s concern Emma managed to make love to her without causing any issues for herself. Though Lena still found it frustrating she couldn’t return the favour and show her love and desire in return.

Monday soon arrives and Lena makes sure Emma is okay for her to head into L-Corp, making sure to be home before six o’clock, despite the seemingly never ending pile of work on her desk. But as she tiredly walks through the apartment doors, Emma gets up to meet her and her bright smile makes it worth it.

She listens to the tracks Emma has been working on for Robyn's new album and feels pride at how Emma effortlessly transforms them to something more.

Wednesday comes around and both Lena and Sam finish work at lunch time to help Alex move her things into Sam’s apartment. Even though the process could be done within a few moments, with the three aliens in the group and the portal watches, Alex wants it done properly with a van they’ve borrowed from the DEO.

“Emma! No, don't lift that box, it's way too heavy!” Alex orders as she sees Emma squat to pick up a box in Alex’s apartment.

Emma voicelessly huffs and straightens up again to find something else to carry. A box catches her eye labelled ‘PRIVATE!’. Curiosity overtakes Emma and she peeks inside. She immediately pushes the lid back down and snorts in amusement.

Grabbing a sharpie she scribbles over the word ‘private’ and puts ‘Bedroom Ornaments’ instead in her cursive handwriting.

“Emma? What are you doing?” Alex asks behind her. The blonde turns and shows off her handy work. “Why- did you- what?” Alex sputters and a blush colours her cheeks.

“You really need to label your toys under something other than ‘private’. Because curious people, like me, will have to look to see what you are hiding.” Emma smirks and gets ready to pick the box up to take down to the van.

“Babe?” Sam asks, seeing Alex’s flustered expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Alex says too quickly and Emma voicelessly laughs while heading out to the elevator. Lena follows behind her with a curious raise of her eyebrow but waits until Emma hands the box over to J’onn before she asks her question.

“What did you communicate to make Alex become a spluttering mess?” Lena queries as the couple head back to the elevator.

“She labeled a box, private, and I had to look. So to stop any more embarrassment I change the label to something less enticing.”

Lena lifts her head up and cackles. “Oh that’s brilliant!”

Emma smiles, taking her girlfriend’s hand as they step into the elevator and squeezes it three times. Lena immediately squeezes the rhythm back.

“Out of interest.” Lena says while stroking her thumb against the back of Emma’s hand. “What would you label your- intimate items? Because we know you have many.”

Emma snorts and playfully rolls her eyes. Tilting her head she thinks and feels sad when she has to let go of Lena’s hand to respond.

“Something like bed sheets or art supplies. You?”

“Science stuff.” Lena says immediately and laughs. “I mean that can be true, the scientific research on how many times I can make you come in one night.”

Emma grins and feels her cheeks warming. She looks down to avoid Lena’s heated gaze. “Fuck how am I going to last the next month huh? I feel like some sex crazed school boy.”

Emma scrunches up her nose in disgust and she shakes her head.

“Okay a sex crazed school girl then.” Lena laughs and kisses the corner of Emma’s mouth. The blonde turns her head and stares tenderly at the raven haired beauty before allowing their lips to connect properly. Lena raises a hand and runs it through Emma’s hair as the kiss deepens.

The doors ping open but the pair don’t separate.

“Ew! Gross!” Sam mockingly whines and Lena flips her off as she breaks away from her girlfriend. “Nice Ms Luthor.” Sam chuckles and watches the pair leave the elevator to head back to Alex’s apartment.

The group repeats the process a few times until finally the apartment is laid bare and the group stands within it’s empty shell.

“I’m going to miss this apartment.” Kara says fondly as she looks around.

“Yea, some great memories here.” Alex says wistfully before taking Sam’s hand. “But I get to create new ones.”

Sam smiles and leans in to kiss her girlfriend. “Yea, you’re stuck with me now. Sucks to be you.”

“Nah, I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

Emma turns to Lena and puts her finger in her mouth and pretends to gag. Lena can’t help the snort that erupts from her nose.

“Hey!” Alex yells and playfully punches Emma’s arm.

Suddenly Emma leaps far away from her sister and slams against the wall. A look of utter fear on her face. Her eyes glaze over as she trembles.

“Emma! I’m sorry!” Alex holds her hands up in surrender and backs away. Watching as Emma slides down the wall. Alex’s heart sinks with her. ‘Idiot!’ She berates herself furiously.

“Emma?” Lena soothingly asks as she kneels near her girlfriend. “It’s okay, you’re safe, you’re experiencing a flashback, nothing bad is going to happen to you, you’re in Alex’s apartment.”

She recites these phrases a few times and patiently waits for Emma to come back to them. Slowly hazel green eyes start to focus and Emma blinks.

“That’s it, take deep, slow breaths. In, two, three, four and out, two, three, four.”

Emma copies her words and hand movement, mimicking the rise and fall of the breath. Finally, Emma feels present and grounded again. She leans her head against the wall and swallows. Feeling foolish for reacting the way she did.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Lena says softly. “You’ve done so well.”

Emma smiles weakly and looks around the empty apartment and finds her sisters and Sam waiting by the door. Hearing that Kara and Sam are quietly reassuring Alex she did nothing wrong, making Emma’s stomach pinch in concern for her sister.

“May I touch you?” Lena asks gently and Emma nods. Lena slides next to Emma and wraps an arm around her. Emma falls into the hug and breathes in deeply.

When Emma feels able, she sits back up and goes to stand. Lena jumps to her feet and helps her up, even though Emma feels capable enough to do it herself.

Immediately she makes her way over to the trio by the door.

Alex looks up as she hears footsteps approaching them. “Emma, I’m so sor-” Alex gets cut off as her sister pulls her into a tight hug.

When Emma steps away she kisses Alex’s cheek, signaling she was okay.

“You ready?” Emma asks with a small smile.

“I think so.” Alex breathes out and takes Sam’s hand. “You can still back out.”

“Nah, I like you too much.” Sam says and leads Alex towards the door.

“Like?” Alex says with a raised eyebrow.

“Fine, love. I love you too much.” Sam kisses Alex’s lips and beams at her.

“I love you too.”

Emma watches the group leave and slowly looks around the empty apartment. She slowly closes the door and follows the group to the elevator.

-- -- --

The task of moving Alex’s things into Sam and Ruby’s apartment seemed to be quicker then when they moved Alex out. And eventually Sam, Ruby, Kara, Lena, Emma and Alex were sitting around the sofas and eating pizza. J’onn had taken the van back to the DEO and stored some of Alex’s furniture that she didn’t need.

“-and then Ri dramatically declared her love to Claire through song in the middle of the cafeteria and asked her to prom! It was so romantic and now all the boys are complaining that Ri set the bar too high and everyone is going to expecting the same thing and-”

“Rubes take a breath!” Sam laughs at her daughter sitting next to her. “And eat some pizza.”

Emma smiles at the teen, remembering how she had been the same and talked anyone’s ear off with the latest from school or anything that interested her.

“How’s your throat love?” Lena asks quietly beside her. With this being the first solid food Emma has eaten the group wanted to make sure it wouldn’t hurt Emma’s throat.

The blonde gives Lena a thumbs up and a wide grin.

“Mom? Can I watch the movie with you guys?” Ruby asks hopefully and she looks over at Alex sitting on the other side of Emma.

“Have you finished your assignments?” Sam responds and Ruby’s shoulders deflate slightly.

Ruby stays silent and lowers her eyes to her plate, causing Sam to raise an eyebrow at her.

“Ruby?” Sam asks again, her motherly voice taking over her tone.

“No.” The teen mutters quietly.

“Then I’m sorry but no, you cannot watch the movie with us. You know the rules.”

Ruby pouts but doesn't push it.

When the food is eaten Ruby hugs each of the women and leaves Emma last.

“Ooo nice necklace!” Ruby comments happily and runs a finger over the diamond pendant.

“Lena made it for me.” Emma signs happily and smiles at Ruby.

“Yea cause you’re her star.” Ruby grins back and winks at her Mom’s best friend.

“Ruby helped me with the design.” Lena explains and rests her head on Emma’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” Emma signs to the teen. “I love it.”

“You’re welcome.” Ruby beams and goes to ask another question.

“And you’re stalling.” Sam interrupts and gives her daughter a look to get moving.

“Fine!” The teenager stomps to her room and once she closes the door Sam turns the tv on.

“Right, what do we fancy?”

“Horror!” Alex hollars and raises her beer.

“Musicals!” Kara yells at the same time and the two start bickering over whose turn it is to choose.

Silently Sam hands the remote to Lena and the raven haired beauty knows exactly what to put on.

The beginning of Mean Girls begins, instantly stopping the argument between the two sisters.

“Ooo I love Mean Girls!” Kara claps and stands to go join Sam on the sofa. Instead Lena moves to sit in that space, leaving the cushion next to Emma free. Kara gives her best friend a grateful smile and jumps onto the sofa with Emma and Alex. Causing her sisters to bounce and laugh at her. “You love Mean Girls, right Alex?”

Alex pouts and shrugs. “It’s acceptable.”

Emma turns to her sister and scoffs. “Yea right, you know every word!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Children please!” Sam interrupts them and the pair quiets down.

Emma smiles at the redhead, nuzzling her nose into her cheek and snuggles into her side.

Kara quietly whines at being left out and shuffles over to burrow into Emma’s side.

The group watch the film and Emma can’t help the grin that spreads across her face when she hears Alex silently mouthing along with the words.

‘Do too.’

(Part Thirty Seven)

[sunaswife]

Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

note from denise: To be added to the taglist please send an ask. Comments and dms will be unintentionally ignored/forgotten. Also if you have sent an ask to be on the taglist. I am not ignoring you I add people onto the taglist when I update a new chapter! <3 love youuu

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter six

Suna was completely in shock and he was overwhelmed. He just froze. What can a man do when his ex tells him he is a father, let alone the father of two toddlers.

He immediately thought about the trauma you must have faced, being pregnant and alone. He also thought about how much he’s missed already, he wasn’t there for their day of birth, their first steps, first words, he’s already missed so many birthdays.

All he ever wanted was to be a father, especially to be the father of the children he made with the woman he was in love with. Was it truly a blessing or a curse?

Surely you don’t want to get back together and live like a perfect family behind a white picket fence. He’d have to learn how to push his feelings aside for these kids and share custody of them somehow. Before he could even speak you were walking away and he quickly turned.

Why aren’t his legs moving? What’s pulling him back? Is he afraid of this responsibility and commitment? Of course he is. He doesn’t want to be a shitty dad, will he be able to raise them correctly? How if he’s always busy training and practicing. All his free time is dedicated to napping.

His heart truly broke the second time ever when he saw those grayish eyes looking back at him with such hurt and betrayal. They screamed that they needed him. He didn’t know how but he felt it. He decided that he was going to take a step and work things out with you. Maybe not romantically but he really wants to be in his kids life.

“After all this time and trouble I went through. You’re gonna let her walk away again?” Atsumu’s annoying voice filled the silent hallway. “Fucking bastard.” Suna seethed and turned with a glare. Osamu knew his brother fucked up and decided to be cautious in case Suna decided to land a few punches on his brother like the last time Atsumu has pissed off Suna.

But as Atsumu braced himself for a comeback or for a fist to meet his face he was met with Suna’s back as he ran to catch up with you. When Suna turned the corner he saw the staff parking lot and he began to run even faster.

If you leave it’ll be too late.

When he made it in the parking lot he stopped and used his height to his advantage and he looked around. He couldn’t see you anywhere. “Y/N!” He called outloud and his voice echoed. “Y/N!” He repeated. He was about to continue walking through when a car backed up and quickly breaked so that they wouldn’t run over the man. You looked through your mirror and saw Suna standing there and looking around like an idiot.

Your heart clenched yet you felt butterflies at the same time. He came, not for you but for the kids. You really hoped and prayed that he would come, and he did. You parked your car and you got out. He sighed in relief and neared you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I want to be in their lives I really do.” He exclaimed.

“It’s fine, Rin. I’m glad you want that.” You smiled softly.

For a moment he got lost in your eyes, and yours in his. It probably lasted less than a minute yet it felt like a eternity. Neither of you could turn away or say something else. It was comfortable and warm.

All of a sudden your phone rang and your finally blinked and turned away to answer your phone. “Did suna find you?” Jamie immediately asked. “Uh we were talking just now....” you said awkwardly and he stood awkwardly as well. “Ok good if not I was going to give him your number.” She sighed in relief and you rolled your eyes. “Alright I got to go, the kids have school in the morning.” You said and you both hung up.

“So I would love to stay and chat..ya know about the kids but they’re asleep already and they have school.” You mumbled. “No it’s fine I completely get it. School is important...are you available tomorrow? It’s off season for me so I don’t have any rough practices, only gym. I want to talk with you before meeting the kids.” He said and you nodded. “I’ll text you when to come over when I get home.” You told him and he nodded. You both exchanged numbers but Suna didn’t really seem that satisfied.

“Be safe. Text me when you guys get home safe.” He said and his eyes widened. “Okay, I will.” You smiled softly and he saw as you entered your car. You slowly pulled out and you drove away.

“Tsumu has her social media in case you’re curious.” Osamu spoke up causing Suna to jump. “What the hell dude, don’t just scare me like that.” He placed his hand over his chest and Osamu laughed.

“Come on, let’s go.” Osamu said and Suna nodded and walked away.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.” You muttered and slapped yourself as you drove. Your kids were already asleep so they couldn’t hear you having a mental breakdown on your way home. “Mommy you said a bad word.” Akira pointed out and you glanced at the mirror. “Sorry about that. Don’t repeat it okay?” You asked and she nodded. “I know I know.” She mumbled and look at her signed volleyball with a bored expression. “Is daddy going to be in our lives, now?” She asked and you sighed softly.

“Well we talked and it sounds like he wants to be there for you and nii-chan..he’s going to come over tomorrow while you’re at school so we can talk like adults. Then when you come home he’ll be there to hang out with you guys and you guys can get to know eachother.” You said hopefully.“I don’t like him. Why couldn’t Sakusa or Atsumu be our dad. Even that guy you were with earlier with the suit is fine. But dad is a jerk. He made you cry.” Rini huffed and your eyes widened, were they awake the whole time?

“Hey, I know you don’t know him but your shouldn’t disrespect your father like that. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have had you guys. You two are the best things that has ever happened to me. You’re a Suna, once you get to know your dad I know you’ll be proud that I put your last name as Suna not Kageyama.” You told him and he scowled.

“Can you tell us more about dad?” Akira asked and you nodded. “What do you wanna know?” You asked. “Why did you fall in love with him.” Rini immediately asked, “Well he was sweet and funny, he loved anime and we were in the same class. He also taught me how to love volleyball again after my grandpa died.” You said smoothly. “What position did he play? Did he go pro?” They asked. “He was a middle blocker and he was really good. He still is a middle blocker and yes he is pro.” You said and Rini gasped. He’s more of a middle blocker type of fan. And Akira prefers setters. Even when you or Tobio teach them volleyball. They choose those positions.

The whole drive they asked about him and you answered the best you could, you can’t tell them everything but they were satisfied and they had a better understanding. They did get upset with you for not telling Rin that he was a father since the beginning but they understood that he broke your heart and you didn’t really want to see him.

When you got home you texted Rin that you arrived. You quickly bathed your kids. Dressed them in their pajamas and read them a script from the new anime you’re going to be on. (They liked listening to the scripts rather than bedtime stories)

After reading three pages they were already knocked out and you gave them a kiss. You fixed Akira’s fox plush in her arms and made you way to Rini’s bed. He was hugging a green piggy with a crown from the angry birds game and the moon made his face glow. You stood there in shock and you imagined second year Rin sleeping like that with the pig plush with the crown that reminded him of you.

You quickly rubbed your eyes to see second year rin turn back into five year old Rini. “I need some wine.” You muttered and kissed his cheek and fixed his blanket. You took out the phone from your pocket as you made your way to the bathroom to take off your makeup and start your nightly routine.

You chuckled but quickly slapped your hand over your mouth. Why was it so easy to text Rin again after all this time. Isn’t it supposed to be awkward? Why are you so comfortable?

You quickly typed an awkward goodbye and he scratched his head confused but replied goodbye as well. He really wanted to continue talking to you more.

After you changed into your pajamas and finished your nighttime routine you made your way to the kitchen and you grabbed the half full wine bottle.

You held it to your chest as you made your way to your office/studio and began reading the script and answering some emails involving the character you’ll be portraying for the new anime. You celebrated a few weeks back when you got the offer and sighed thinking about this certain character.

You’ve read the manga already but it wouldn’t hurt to re read it to get a better feel of the characater right? You took a sip from the wine bottle as you found the first book of the manga. In your endless shelves of books.

“Alright Emma let’s go on an adventure.” You sighed and began to read The Promised Neverland.

Also don’t forget that I love you and you’re worth it <3 Idk who needed to hear this today :)

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime691 @tpwkatsumu @ohshirabu @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar

[ukiyoexo]

THE PERFECT ONE. — kjm

PAIRINGS — exo, kim junmyeon x reader

GENRES — best friends to lovers, fluff fluff fluff, slight angst

SYNOPSIS — after a ruined date, your best friend decides that you deserve to be treated in the form of a perfect night that leaves your heart warm and your feelings out in the open.

WARNINGS — swearing and sweetness

MESSAGE — hi, @amyeonzing i’m emma, your exol secret santa and this is my (hopefully not too shitty) gift for you. i really enjoyed the time i spent getting to know you and i must say that i think you’re pretty freaking cool!! thanks for putting with my somewhat sporadic asks, i hope this makes up for it

also thanks to mel and lolo for setting up the @exolssecretsanta, it really was fun and definitely worth it!

WORD COUNT — 2.2k+

"i hate guys." you let out in a huff, flopping your body into your best friend's bed, "i hate guys, i hate men, i hate boys, i hate those weird humans with the dicks hanging off their body. i hate them all." you repeat again more descriptively this time, the frustration growing in your chest as you continue your somewhat dramatic announcement. your hands gripping the duvet cover as your head buries into the pillow. the only sense of calm you gain being from the smell of cologne that lingers on junmyeon's sheets.

you don't hear or see him get up, but he does with a small chuckle, pushing away from the desk he was sat in front of at the other side of the bedroom and walking over to the bed calmly. he hovers over the side of the bed your laying on before deciding to crouch down next to you, one hand gently pushing on your arm in hopes of encouraging you to unbury your face. it takes a little convincing — it always does — but you do give in eventually, letting yourself be rolled over, your arms in reponse only folding over your chest as a pout forms on your lips.

"so you were saying," junmyeon nudges you to make room for him on the bed, "men equal bad?" he sits down once you shuffle over, doing his best to hide the small smile that is prying at his lips "men equal very bad." you nod in agreement, the stern look remaining on your face as junmyeon nods. “and why is that this time?”

you shake your head at his question, not really wanting to answer. if you were being honest, you found the truth quite embarrassing, even if you shouldn’t do, you just couldn’t help it. but then again, it was junmyeon you were talking. the man you had known since you were old enough to walk, the man you spent your childhood with, experiencing the epic highs and lows of being a teenager and now an adult. it being junmyeon made you feel a bit better at least and was only reason you were willing to admit the cause of your upset.

“i got stood up.” your face twists, eyes tracing the dappled texture painted on junmyeon’s bedroom ceiling. “i was supposed to go on a date last night with this guy i met through a friend and he fucking stood me up.”

junmyeon shifts onto his side, elbow bent to prop up his head, “oh,” he hums, face morphing into a sympathetic expression, eyes saddened. his hand moves to rest on your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles, “hey,” he begins gently, “there’s no point getting upset over this guy. if he couldn’t be bothered to show up to a date with someone as amazing as you, he’s not worth any of your time or thought in the first place.”

“ugh,” this was the exact reason everyone came to junmyeon for advice and you hated it, mostly because he was always right. you were letting some stupid guy, who you hadn’t even properly met, dictate your feelings and however much you didn’t want to admit it, it was stupid.

“ok.” you nod, lettting a small smile pry at your lips. “who cares about him, right?” you sit up promptly and junmyeon mimics the action. “right!” he cheers on with you but the joy is short lived. “it does still kinda suck though.” your body seems to deflate as the words pass your lips, shoulders caving in on themselves.

it sucked a whole lot in fact. not even because you cared that much about the guy, just the feeling that someone would rather leave you hanging than text to cancel.

junmyeon remains silent for a while before shifting off the bed, making his way around to the other side before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to. “y/n,” he begins softly, “forget him, yeah?” he nods encouragingly and you mirror the action reluctantly, gaze flickering away. “i’ve got a plan and it requires you to not be grumpy.”

your head seems to perk up at his statement, a plan?

your head tilts and it’s enough indication for junmyeon to begin explaining, “go on a date with me instead, a make up for last night.” he offers sweetly, hands clutching yours, and you swear you feel your heart beat fasten. “a date?” you question and he nods again, “a date.” he smiles back, “i’ll make it as perfect as possible and by the end of it, you will have forgotten that prick even exists.”

it hadn’t taken much convincing after that for you to agree, junmyeon was just a friend after all, and what’s weird about going out with a friend?

he had instructed soon after for you to go home and get changed, planning to pick you at seven for the beginning of your date. you had done so promptly, changing into your favourite ‘casual date’ outfit - whatever that meant - before fixing your hair and putting on a light layer of makeup.

and thankfully, unlike last night, when the planned time rolled around, junmyeon showed up too, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand that had your cheeks heating. his only reasoning being that you “deserved to know what a proper date was like.”

just a friend, just a friend, just a friend.

you have to remind yourself as he begins to drive after guiding you to his car, taking a deep breath as you scan the road signs you pass, hoping for any clue of where junmyeon might be taking you. the further you journeyed however, the more lost you became, city buildings morphing into fields upon fields. the car drive turning into what felt like more of an adventure as the minutes ticked on. “if you’re going to kill me, at least give me some warning.” you let out in a chuckle and junmyeon laughs back, his hand moving from the steering wheel onto your thigh. the feeling of his skin on yours leaving goosebumps prickling on your leg, “no murder happening here.” he squeezes his hand and just as quickly, it’s back on the wheel.

it’s weird, the feeling that bubbles in your stomach, almost like butterflies. but no, that was stupid. junmyeon was your best friend of course and that was it. even if he seemed to be the one you thought about most.

few words are shared after that, a quiet melody playing through the car from one of your playlists. your head resting against the window. you don’t even notice at first when the car rolls to a stop, junmyeon getting out first and promptly making his way over to your side of the car. the small giggle that passes your lips when he pulls open your door and holds out a hand leaving a rosy shade on his cheeks. he then retrieves the small weaved basket he had tucked in the car boot - the stereotypical picnic type - before gripping your hand once again, leading you down a small path.

it’s a small wooded area, up a slight slope, away from the concrete buildings and pollution. the moonlight weaves its way between the branches and leaves, leaving specs of silver dancing on the ground. rays highlighting the small blue flowers that sit in bundles in the foliage. it’s pretty. in fact more than that, it’s almost ethereal.

the world around you seems to glow, nature left to create its own bubble of serenity. the peace of the night only disturbed by the sound of your footsteps.

it’s a calm, however, that seems starkly contrastinf to the hammering in your chest every time you feel junmyeon’s thumb rub against the back of your palm. sure, you and junmyeon had held hands before, you had even cuddled and shared the same bed, you were best friends after all. it’s just that this felt different. felt special. it felt like something more.

you walk for only a couple minutes before reaching a clearing. it’s on the edge of the hill, surrounded by trees and seemingly secluded from the rest of the world. the only evidence of human life being the glowing lights of the city from what seems be miles away.

he lays out a blanket and places down the basket, opening it to pull out a collection of some of your favourite foods. god, he knew you well.

“how do you know about this place?” your head tilts, eyes scanning junmyeon’s features as you settle onto the picnic blanket. every soft curve of his face almost iridescent in the white glow of the moon and stars. “i just like to come here sometimes.” he responds rather simply, gaze fixated ahead. “when i want to clear my head, or need to be alone.” he continues, voice edging further into a whisper with each word.

“it’s nice.” you hum back, a small smile perched on your lips. “perfect in fact.” junmyeon gains a smile at that too. “i’m glad.”

you remain silent for a while after that, letting yourself enjoy the food and the comfort each other’s presences provided. you weren’t lying when you said it was perfect, it really was.

no one had ever done something like this for you, and you doubted anyone ever would again. it almost seemed too perfect, and somehow almost painful at the same time. to know that this was just a fake date per say and not the real thing left you with a bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t seem to get rid. but you couldn’t say anything, after all, junmyeon was just a friend.

“you didn’t have to do this, you know?” you whisper after another moment, “but i wanted to.” he responds quickly but gently back. a response that leaves a warm, fuzzy feeling growing in your chest that you can’t stop no matter how hard you try. “i know, but it’s just sad as well i guess.”

your words catch the man off guard, his head twisting in your direction, eyebrows quirked up slightly. “well it’s not real, is it?”

a silence settles once again. a quiet that’s more stiff than serene. leaving your hands sweaty and throat dry. you shouldn’t have said anything, you knew that, but you and junmyeon had always promised to tell each other the truth and that was what it was. the truth. this date wasn’t real. and that was the truth no matter how much you didn’t like it.

“i—” your best friend begins but doesn’t finish, instead shifting in his spot on the checkered fabric. “i guess.” his thumb fiddles with the ring resting on one of his fingers, “unless you want it to be.” he then mumbles, so close to a whisper that he’s not even sure you heard him, but you do. of course you do.

“do you want it to be?” you whisper out your own question in response, junmyeon letting it linger in the air before slowly nodding. his movements small but sure. “i want it to be real, if you want it be real.”

junmyeon admits and you feel yourself seemingly freeze in the moment. the truth bubbling in your throat ready to be blurted out. you couldn’t lie, you knew that, but admitting it was quite frankly scary as fuck.

“i want this to be real, i want something between us too.”

maybe you blurted out too much.

you can feel your cheeks heating with embarrassment, heart thudding so hard you’re sure it could break out of your chest at any moment.

but then he laughs, a small chuckle, a chuckle of disbelief.

it seems out of character for the junmyeon you knew but then he’s threading his fingers with yours and leaning so closely towards you that you’re not sure if anything is as you really know it. “me too.” he lets a smile pry at the corner of his mouth, face inches away from yours as his gaze flickers onto your lips. your gaze however focusing on his eyes. the way they seem to store a thousand stars and hundreds of joyf memories. the small flecs of gold running through the brown that somehow glow even at night.

“can i kiss you?” junmyeon hums and a breath catches in your throat but your head nods promptly nonetheless. the feeling of his lips against yours akin to the feeling of electricity, jolting through every nerve in your body, leaving every hair stood tall. his lips soft and so so gentle, yet somehow still emitting fireworks when you meet with them.

fuck. he was a perfect kisser too.

you pull back reluctantly, the need for air suddenly an inconvenience. you want to kiss him again, feel the electricity bolting through you once more, but instead you can’t stop this big grin taking over your features. “what?” junmyeon lets out in a breathy laugh, “nothing.” you shake your head back, letting your heart swell even more.

you copy junmyeon’s actions when he lies back on the blanket, eyes scanning the star lit sky. and you let him pull you close when he wraps an arm around your shoulder confidently.

“so, do you still hate men?” junmyeon’s head tilts with an almost cheeky grin, fingers playing with yours. you let out a breathy chuckle before shaking your head softly, “you’re an exception. the perfect one at that.”

[lylethewarblerguy]

What do u think makes Blaine abusive?

I'm assuming you mean what about his behaviour is abusive? Well there's a lot but below are some of the acts of emotional abuse that he exhibits.

(I am once again incapable of keeping my thoughts short and I don't want y'all to have to scroll so it's under keep reading)

also, obviously, tw emotional abuse.

Guilt Tripping - Guilt tripping can in direct terms be exemplified by statements like “how could you do this to me” or “after efterything I’ve done for you,” it’s making the victim feel bad about something they shouldn’t necessarily feel bad about. B/aine does this a lot. Examples: getting Kurt a solo just so they could ‘spend some time together,’ despite the fact that they are friends and can hang out whenever, by doing this he puts Kurt in a position where B/aine did something nice so Kurt should ‘return the favour’ so to speak. He specifically tells Kurt that he didn’t change schools for him, then when Kurt does something he doesn’t like he uses the fact that he changed schools to guilt trip Kurt into feeling bad. Both of these are examples of the “after everything I’ve done for you” type of guilt tripping but he does both and often.

Public Humiliation - This means picking fights, or just generally embarrassing someone in public. He does this when Kurt is texting Chandler, rather than resolve their fight in private he brings it in front of all their friends to make Kurt look like a bad person. Doing this serves to isolate Kurt and make him feel bad about himself. That event is also an exhibit of of the next sign.

Walking out - This is when you repeatedly walk out in the middle of a fight in order to leave the issue unresolved. B/aine doesn’t resolve the Chandler fight in the room but he walks out, and after he has publicly embarrassed Kurt he once again walks out, never letting Kurt get to respond or resolve the issue. Not resolving the issue makes the abused person need to sit with their thoughts and allows them to start doubting and guilting themselves.

Goading then Blaming - This refers to the act of pushing someone to a certain action and then blaming them for it. Once again, the Chandler incident. B/aine withholds any affection from Kurt and then blames Kurt for trying to find affection elsewhere.

Isolation - this point is combining several signs of abuse. But mainly it’s turning friends and family against the abuse victim, taking away their accomplishments and things that bring them happiness, and just generally isolating them from outside contact and validation and making them dependent on the abuser. This is once again exhibited by the Chandler incident (turning friends and family against Kurt AND controlling who he is friends with/gets validation from).

Extreme Jealousy - Idk if I really need to explain this one. It’s getting jealous whenever the victim has any kind of outside validation, since any outside validation will threaten the dependency that the abuser is trying to establish. B/aine straight up admits to feeling this way in Tested, to wanting Kurt to be vulnerable and dependent on him and that he wants to be the only one giving Kurt any validation.

Withholding Affection - Once an abuser has made their victim sufficiently dependent on their affection they’ll often withhold it intentionally in order to make the victim feel more isolated and need the abuser more. B/aine admits to intentionally withholding affection in season three after the Chandler incident.

Turning the Tables - This means blaming the victim for the actions of the perpetrator. He does this when he cheats, telling Kurt that it was because Kurt was distant. He does this when he was intentionally withholding affection from Kurt, telling Kurt that it was because he was scared of losing him so it was ultimately Kurts fault. And he does this when he SAs Kurt, telling him that he was just trying to be spontaneous but it’s Kurts fault for not going with it.

Gaslighting - Gaslighting is trying to convince someone that what they know happened didn’t actually happen. When they hook up at Will and Emmas wedding Kurt specifically doesn’t want to have sex cause he doesn’t want B/aine to think they are getting back together, and B/aine ensures him that he understands and that its just two bros helping each other out. However, after they’ve had sex B/aine insists that them sleeping together is a sign that Kurt wants to get back together, trying to convince him that he felt something that he didn’t. In Tested he also does this, he says that maybe he should move out and then later on when they’re fighting he tells Kurt that “you even asked me to move out,” something which Kurt never did.

Sexual Assault - I don’t think I have to explain this. Any unconsensual sexual act, including kissing, is SA. And we all know of the Scandals assault.

The Cycle of Abuse - As I’ve mentioned before B/aine also takes Kurt through the cycle of abuse. B/aine hurts Kurt, B/aine blames Kurt, Kurt blames himself, Kurt apologises, B/aine mercifully accepts his apology, rinse and repeat. The entire thing making it seem like it was Kurts fault that B/aine hurt him and that he is the one fucking up their relationship.

To be clear: This is NOT a definitive list of everything abusive B/aine has ever done and the examples used are by no means the only times that he does these things. B/aine does a lot of other forms of emotional and mental abuse as well. These are just some examples of repeated abusive behaviour. There are also many events, like the proposal, which fit into several of these categories plus more.

[terrm9]

after all that i’ve done (Tatum x Lina)

This is officially part 2 of you give it to me anyway; however it’s perfectly readable as a one-shot, too.

WC: 4.4k, Rating: M (mature)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of army injury, alcohol & drug consumption, sex - only talking about these things, nothing graphic.

Author’s note: As expected, this doesn’t meet my writing goals at all. I got tired of looking at it, though, so here it is. Thank you so so much for reading and leaving a feedback, it means the whole world to me <3

Five weeks.

Five weeks of separation, five weeks filled with texts and phone calls and face-times and there was also a letter waiting on Lina’s bed one day – for old times‘ sake, Tatum joked.

And Lina has never been a patient woman, no. She hated those five weeks, in all her honesty.

(We managed five years, I can handle five weeks, she has been telling herself on repeat.)

The five weeks have passes. Lina’s year at Vancross was over. Election has been won.

She is home, at last. Home in Rutherland. Home in Mendozas‘ living room, Tatum’s arm wrapped around her shoulders and her own around his waist.

Leaning into his side and blushing under the attention she is getting from Mr. Mendoza, she is home.

(At last.)

„Lina!“ Tatum’s dad beams at her, a smile so wide she is sure his cheeks hurt. Where is all that Tatum’s stoicism coming from, she wonders (and then she remembers, those damn five years. Tatum used to be a perfect picture of his father – huge smiles and carefree laughters; there is nothing inherited in who he is now. He has become who he is in those five years.)

„It’s so amazing to see you again,“ Mr. Mendoza – Jerome, he insists – breaks her out of own mind. „Tatum couldn’t stop talking about you these past few weeks. It’s been Lina here and Lina there and ‚I wonder what Lina is doing‘ and-„

„Okay, dad, I am sure she gets it,“ Tatum interrupts, his voice carrying tracks of annoyance, but Lina knows it’s not really there. She has never seen a relationship more beautiful, more pure than the one between Tatum and his dad.

When Lina looks up at him, expression amused and an eyebrow raised, Tatum simply shrugs – he will not deny that he missed her. He will not support his dad’s teasing, either.

„Thank you, Jerome,“ she smiles back, probably just as widely. „I am more than happy to be back home.“

Tatum picked her up at the airport and Lina didn’t even consider going to her mother’s house. Without any conversation, they both knew she would be staying at Mendozas for some time.

She would be staying home.

„Well, I will leave you kids to it,“ Jerome winks at them and this time, Tatum does look slightly uncomfortable. „I promised Victoria I would help Josh with the nursery for the little one. Don’t wait for me with the dinner!“ He winks again and the suggestion behind his words is more than clear. Tatum’s hand twitches at Lina’s shoulder as he mutters under his breath.

„For the love of God, just go, dad.“

Lina is trying very hard not to think about what is happening. About how she is taking the stairs to walk into Tatum’s room – the room she hasn’t been to in six years. About how Tatum’s shoulders are tense under his tight black t-shirt, even though he is smiling softly at her as he opens the door.

About how this is all so well-known to her and yet so fucking different.

About the conversation they are inevitably having today. She is trying very, very hard not to think about that.

It takes several seconds for Lina to take the room in – to compare her memories to the present moment, to remember if the walls have always been this shade of gray and that there was definitely not a king-sized bed in teenage Tatum’s room.

"Ah," she can't help but grin as she spots the blank space above the bed.

"Where has the Emma Watson poster gone?"

Even though Tatum's face remains stoic, Lina catches a glimpse of amusement in his eyes.

"Dad turned this room into the one for visitors while I was gone," he replies shrugging. "I didn't think it would be, uh, appropriate to have the poster here."

Nodding, Lina takes the room further in and her breath hitches in her throat as she notices things that haven't changed, haven't been removed. The photo of the two of them from Tatum's eighteenth birthday party on a bedside table. The Valentine's Day card Lina made for him in the kindergarten pinned above his writing desk. The elegant black box sitting on the desk and she knows it's filled with the cinema tickets and concert tickets and the little notes Lina left from him in the books he has borrowed her. The ugliest mug ever made proudly displayed on a windowsill - Lina promised to bring him the ugliest souvenire from her trip to Prague and she came back with the mug. Photo of Lina in a long summer dress taken only a few days before Tatum left Rutherland, on a dresser (although it looks slightly rumpled and with a swell of her heart Lina wonders if maybe he had had this photo in his wallet while he was away, close to him at all times?)

"And these," she gestures around the room, "are not inappropriate?"

"Never," he doesn't miss a beat.

In two long strides, he closes the gap between them and taker her face into his hands, eyes full of that tenderness that scares her, full of affection and also, she notices, full of need.

„Lina,“ he whispers as he scans her face and Lina is not sure what he is trying to say – his eyes, God, those eyes, so beautiful, so breathtaking, screaming many things at once and Lina can only guess.

I missed you. I am so happy you are finally with me. I am, at last, at peace. I love you with my whole being and then some more.

All the things she feels within herself. All the things she is, just like him, not capable of saying. Neither of them has ever been a master of words. Of course, it has always been easy to talk to Tatum about others, about life, about nothing in particular.

But to talk to Tatum about Tatum?

(To talk to Lina about Lina?)

That’s... hard. Difficult. So easy to fuck up.

So she kisses him. Pulls him closer and covers his mouth with hers, pouring all that is unspoken into that kiss, hoping it could be enough.

(It is. It always is.)

Five weeks is a long time for everyone. It’s been fucking long time for Lina and Tatum.

The kisses are hungry, desperate, full of need and catching up, making up for the lost time – it would be so easy, so damn easy to just take his clothes off, to let him take hers off and then just have him take her.

So damn easy.

Lina knows he would do it, his higher principles be damned because the heat radiating from his body, the low rumble coming from the back of his throat, his hands caressing her torso – all a proof that he is just a man, that he wants her.

Tatum would do everything – anything – for Lina. He once told her he would die for her – and what a cliché, used by many, sung by rockstars and written down by poets, I would die for you, a confession or perhaps a promise, whispered freely by millions but meant scarcely by dozens.

Lina knows he means it. He would give up all his breaths for her.

(As she would for him. She decided to live for him, after all, and maybe that’s even more severe.)

And it’s so tempting she almost takes it, takes him-

It's the first time with you. (Spoken five weeks ago and still echoing in her head, those gentle words of his, for fuck’s sake)

- she can’t.

God, how she wants to forget what has been and what will be and just let them enjoy the moment of all that is physical and beautiful and easy - nothing that is their reality, has been for years, hard and ugly.

“We need to talk,” she whispers and she hates how her voice trembles already, trembles with all those wrong, dreadful emotions.

A long exhale leaves Tatum and he closes his eyes before nodding – and if he was tense before, he is statue-like now, the only movement are his hands, hugging Lina more tightly.

“Yes,” he says quietly and leads her to his bed, a habit older than Lina can remember – serious talks need to be taken to bed, they used to joke. Sitting next to each other, backs leaned against the wall behind them (knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder), Lina looks into his eyes briefly and murmurs: “Could you go first, please?”

There is no need to particularize what is this talk going to be about – two people that shared everything, two people who have been through most of that everything together, being separated for five years, well, that’s a lot of catching up to do.

And while they have gotten to the talks about Lina’s school and Tatum’s time in army already, while she already knows about the injury that made him leave and he already knows about all the fights she has had with her mother and how it all led to her year at Vancross, they have successfully avoided talking about the people they met in those years apart, until now.

There has been no talk about the relationships and as curious as Lina has been, she never dared to ask about Tatum’s sex life. He is her best friend, though. First and foremost, he is her best friend and she knows about the first girl he kissed and the first girl he has bought flowers for and the first one he invited for a date.

“It was not long after I joined army that I met Cara,” Tatum speaks, taking Lina’s hand into his own, fingers intertwined. “She was a cousin of a fellow soldier and lived in a town nearest to our base. She came to visit him fairly often and she was impossible not to notice,” he chuckles quietly. “So loud and cheery and full of joy. Everyone was excited to see her after some time. She brought life to the people that mostly talked about death. She never hesitated to show me that she likes me. And you know, at army, dating is anything but easy – but Cara was understanding. So we started dating after five months.”

His voice is soft when he tells her all of it (so freely, so naturally, and Lina wishes her story – her stories – could be that easy to tell, too), as is his smile. No matter what has gone down between Tatum and Cara, there is no grudge he is holding, not a sign of hatred. And maybe Lina should feel jealous, maybe there should be a pang of something inside her ribs, something uncomfortable. There’s nothing.

If anything, she is grateful that Tatum had someone he could rely on for all those years. Grateful that Cara had been there to look after him at times Lina couldn’t.

„She was always so,“ he hums for a moment. „So happy. It didn’t take long for me to understand that the happy face, the loud laughter, that those things were her cover up for something terrible, something that was making her miserable. But she never wanted to talk about it and so I didn’t ask. As she didn’t ask in return.“

Tatum’s head bumps into the wall softly, too and his gaze is on a ceiling when he speaks again.

„She was a good girl. And the relationship was... nice. Easy. We made sure it would stay easy. And in that easiness, it lacked depth. I have never gotten to know her better and she has never gotten to know me.“

A long silence follows and Lina wonders if she should ask more, if she should interrupt his thread of thoughts. Before she can say anything, Tatum speaks again and this time, his voice is filled with regret.

„She had your hair.“

She reminded me of you, is what he is not saying.

„How long did the relationship last?“ Lina asks when the silence gets too thick, too uncomfortable.

„Three years and something.“

„You broke up when you had to leave army?“ she prompts softly, curiosity getting the best of her.

Tatum shakes his head before looking down at Lina and responding.

„No, we ended it before the injury happened. She found the photo of you in my wallet one day, after the discussion about my driving license – she needed to see the thing herself and as she opened the wallet, the first thing she saw was, well... you. She asked me ‚So this is the girl you are trying to forget?‘. After my initial surprise, I only said that you are my best friend.“

Breaking the eye contact, he looks ahead before finishing the story.

„‘The best friend you are in love with?‘, she asked again and it was the first time someone said that aloud. I couldn’t lie to her, not when she asked so directly. She said she understood and you know what Lina? I think she really did. I never found out who was she trying to forget, but she did understand me.“

„And after Cara?“ Lina asks, even though she is afraid she knows her answer.

„After Cara, there was nobody.“

„Are you-,“ she takes a deep breath to calm down her rapidly beating heart. „Do you really mean that you only slept with Cara? Ever?“

Tatum laughs at that, squeezing Lina’s hand. „Life in army – or healing after the injury you have gotten there – do not exactly give you opportunities to get laid, galyetas.“

„Oh,“ is all Lina manages to breathe out. „Oh.“

Oh, shit. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This is her worst nightmare. This is worse than anything she feared.

Lina feels Tatum’s gaze on her, an unspoken ‚It’s your turn‘ hanging between them but she cannot, she cannot.

She feels like throwing up and crying at the same time and she cannot do this, she must run and run and run until she cannot catch her breath and never return because Tatum, her Tatum, deserves everything and she can give him nothing.

Not daring to look at Tatum, Lina tries to take a deep breath – to take any breath (and it feels like she has done the running already, she ran away and yet here she is, next to the man she loves, next to the man she is going to destroy.)

"You know you don't have to tell me anything, Lina," Tatum whispers, his knuckles caressing Lina's colarbone softly - a touch featherlight, almost too tender to bear.

And she needs to take another deep breath, the fire inside her blazing sedulously (painfully. It hurts to burn for Tatum, it pains as much as it pleases).

It all feels too much – his touch, his presence too good, too terrific; it feels like a dream.

(One she will soon turn into a nightmare)

„No, I do,“ she chokes out at last and finally looks into his eyes, forcing her memory to capture them fully – the chocolate brown of his irises with the specks of deep green in them, the dilated pupils and that damn warmth seeping from them, all those emotions. His eyes are smiling at her, eyes loving and caring and once she tells him everything, all of that love and care and smile will be gone and she begs her memory to remember Tatum’s eyes.

She begs her memory to forget everything but Tatum’s eyes (beautiful and breathtaking)

„I missed you,“ she begins. „I missed you like hell, Tatum, From the moment you were gone, it hurt. And I needed to find some kind of distraction, something to fill my mind with. The letters were not enough sometimes.“

Her voice is so apologetic, cracking after every other word and she hates it, hates how it sounds, hates how it is certainly telling Tatum where this is going, already.

“It was…” she stops and shrugs, trying so desperately to find the right words - which is ironic, really, as there are hardly any right words for this. “Manageable, that first year. I got drunk or high - sometimes both - went home, reread your latest letter and cried myself to sleep.”

Determined to look straight ahead of herself, Lina doesn’t see Tatum’s intense gaze on her. She feels it, however. (She always feels him, no matter her senses.)

She also hears his faint scoff.

Manageable has probably not been the most right choice of a word, then.

Then again, she has never done this before. Has never spoken about those years without Tatum to anyone.

Years of loneliness she decided to fill.

(Needed to fill, so desperately.)

Years of self-hatred that still lingers.

„The letters stopped coming, then,“ she whispers and even though she knows now why, she knows about her mother contacting Tatum only to ask him to stop sending them because it’s ‚too hurtful‘ for Lina; even though she knows all of it, she cannot keep the hurt from her voice.

„It was maybe three or four months after the last letter that it began to dawn on me, that another one is not coming. I was at this party and the first time, it was not planned, not intentional. It just... happened. I was getting drunk and ready to go home to reread the letter when it hit me, you know?“ she gulps and blinks several times to keep the tears from falling. „It hit me that I do not have anything to reread. And the guy was there, buying me drinks the whole night and he told me about his hotel room. So I went.“

Now, she needs to squeeze her eyes shut and the tears do fall and she hates them, hates herself, hates the past. But the dam has been broken and words are flowing out of her and she needs to tell Tatum everything, even if it is the last thing she will ever tell him.

„I do not remember his name and I do not remember what he looked like. I only remember that I hated every second of the sex, but the feeling of hating something else than the emptiness in me was strong enough for me to keep doing this. The second time, I planned it. And the third and every single one after that. I do not know who those people were, Tatum,“ she whispers and it scares her how still Tatum is, his hand still in hers but unmoving. There’s no reassuring squeezing.

(It’s what she deserves.)

„I never asked about their names and I never gave away mine. It happened every other week – I went to the city, got drunk, got fucked, went home. One time, paparazzi caught me kissing a woman in a bar and of course, the next day the picture was all over the magazines. My mother took a flight back home, then and I thought that maybe she would ask me what was going on, that maybe she would care. She tossed a bag my way, filled with wigs and contact lenses and told me that if I want to ruin my life, I need to make sure it doesn’t ruin her career, too. Then she left.“

Annie – Lina’s only female friend before Dionne – always used to say that what Lina is doing is a perfect example of post-breakup behavior. It never made sense to Lina. There was never a relationship. There was no breakup. She was just lonely and wanted some company.

It makes sense to her, now. She knows now that she loves Tatum in a way that is far from friendly and she knows now that she felt that way all those years ago, too. Back then, she would never admit that.

But Lina knows now. Her best friend, the closest person she has ever had, the person she’s been in love with left and Christ, that hurt more than a breakup.

„I do not know how many men I slept with, how many women. I never counted. The only thing I know that I never enjoyed the sex, not once,“ Lina scoffs and then muses, more to herself than Tatum. „Sometimes I wonder if I am even capable of that. Enjoying sex. Not that it matters,“ she adds in a rushed voice, because truly, her selfish wonder about her selfish sex life is not something that matters at the moment.

„I hate that it was that way, Tatum, I hate everything about those years you were gone. Most of all, I hate myself. But I cannot take that back. Those things are part of me now, no matter how hideous that part is.“

Silence. Long, terrible silence.

„What was the last time?“ Tatum asks suddenly and his voice is hollow, emotionless, so awfully neutral.

„Three weeks before Vancross? Maybe a month?“

This time when Tatum speaks, the emotions are clear in his voice – surprise, most of them all.

„And nobody after that? Nobody at Vancross?“

„Of course not!“ Lina exclaims, more loudly than intended – she still doesn’t look at him, though. „I was... There was no need-„ she bites her lower lip, trying to find the right words. She decides on the truth, in the end. „You were there with me. I was not lonely anymore. Not empty.“

There is a long silence, thick and suffocating and Lina feels like choking, drowning, this is the end, she thinks. She cannot meet Tatum's eyes, the fear of what she might find in them too tremendous - hate, disgust or perhaps resentment?

(All the things she would find in her own eyes, did she look in the mirror now)

And she deserves that look - the look that will crush her and destroy everything that is (was) between them; she deserves so much worse, she knows, but it doesn't make it any easier to open her damn eyes and look at him.

Taking a deep breath through her nose, Lina braces herself to face the reality, squeezing her eyes shut even more tightly, as if the counter movement of the one that is her goal could miraculously encourage her to do it and-

"I am sorry I was not there," she hears Tatum's whisper, the sound full of pain and regret and her eyes snap open without any forcible impulse sent by her brain.

What the fuck is the first reaction she manages to get out of herself.

„I should’ve fought harder for us,“ he adds and tugs her hand, forcing her to – fucking finally – look at him. „I should have been there, one way or another.“

„For fuck‘s sake, Tatum,“ Lina snaps and stands up, not able to sit calmly. „Stop this. Just...just stop this, okay? You cannot be sorry. You need to hate me, resent me. I screwed everything up. Be angry or something.“

„Lina,“ he whispers softly for what must be the eighth time that day and stands up too, cupping her cheek softly, gently enough for her to break free if that’s what she wants. „As if I could ever hate you.“

Lina’s heart breaks at those words. She is sure it does, she can feel the sharp pain in her chest and it must be that, right? Tears are threatening to fall once again and her hands are trembling and Tatum just stands there, thumb tracing her cheekbone tenderly, looking at her, waiting.

Patiently, calmly. Waiting. As he always is.

„You should,“ she whispers at the very same moment the first tear fall down, at the very moment a sob leaves her mouth. „You need to. I am not the Lina I used to be, Tatum. I am not a good person. I am all those terrible things that you are not and I can only cause you hurt. Please, Tatum, for your own sake just... please, just hate me.“

Tatum bows his head down, his lips – warm, soft, gentle – touching her cheek, kissing the tears away.

Lina’s heart keeps breaking.

„I know who you are, Lina girl. I see you as you are.“

Another kiss on the other cheek.

„It’s the past. Past that has not been easy for either of us. But it’s gone. We have each other now and I will have you for as long as you will have me.“

„But-„ she protests, only for Tatum’s thumb on her lips to stop her.

„You are not what you have done. You are not what happened to you. You are my best friend. My Lina. My galyetas. You are still the very same Lina that created the Valentine’s Day card for me at the age of five because you were worried I wouldn’t get a card from anyone else.“

They both chuckle at the memory – the bastard got eight – eight! – Valentine’s Day cards that year.

„You are still the Lina that alarmed her mother and all the assistants on the President tour because you needed to get back to Rutherland immediately – because it was the first Mother’s Day without my mom and you knew I would be miserable.“

Well, yeah, her mother was not overly happy when she had to pay for the private jet that took Lina back home. Immediately.

Tatum’s hand traces her jawline, falling down on her neck, her shoulder, her exposed collarbone until it lands on her chest, until Lina’s heart beats under it.

„You are the Lina I grew up with. You are my best friend. You are the most important person in my life and that cannot be changed. I know who you are. I see you as you are, I see you as the beautiful, loving, compassionate Lina you are and it hurts me to know that you cannot see yourself that way.“

Another sobs escapes Lina and she feels dizzy, heart beating rapidly, head underwater.

(How is she supposed to deal with this? With him and with herself?)

„I will make sure to remind you,“ Tatum whispers into her ear, kissing her earlobe there and again, Lina has no idea what to say. Again, she acts instead.

She kisses him, a deep, slow kiss and here it is again, that hope that it’s enough.

(It is. It always is.)

*** ***

Thank you so much for reading, again! I am already working on the third part in which these two finally get to the banging so I hope you won't get tired of them just yet

[misscarolineshelby]

The Last Semester – Part Nine

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,378

Warning: Fluff, Angst

Previous Parts:  Part One; Part Two; Part Three*; Part Four*; Part Five*; Part Six; Part Seven; Part Eight

Original Blog: @queenshelby

***

You knew that, the following morning, you could not avoid attending university again. You had to face Cillian and you would do so gracefully you thought.

That morning, you got up early despite having had a pounding headache all night from the evening before.

You clearly had too much to drink and, after taking some aspirin, you put on a pair of tight black jeans, a pair of suede boots and a grey cashmere jumper.

You straightened your hair and applied a generous but not too obvious amount of make-up.

Then, at around 8am, just as you were about to leave the house, you received a text message.

‘Nice to meet you last night beautiful lady’ was all it said followed by another text message which read ‘It’s Dwayne.’

The message made you choke.  You couldn’t remember much from the night before.

‘Who is Dwayne?’ you then went to ask Jeremy as he barged out of the bathroom, late for class as usual.

‘The handsome lawyer you kissed last night at the Irish Pub’ Jeremy winked and you almost dropped your phone again.

‘I did what?’ Fuck…’ you sighed. You couldn’t remember how much you exactly you drank.

‘Yes, after about five G&Ts Love. But don’t worry, a kiss and your phone number were all he got from you’ Jeremy then giggled and you could have sunk into the ground then and there.

‘Oh god no’ you murmured before wishing Jeremy a pleasant day as you headed out of the apartment.

‘Oh god yes’ he shouted after you with some delight.  

***

You barged into theatre practice about 10 minutes late alongside Thomas who you ran into in the foyer and, just as you did, you looked for Emma who, to your surprise, sat at the back of the room wearing a pair of sunglasses while holding onto her head.

‘Welcome to the latecomers. Can we please make sure that you are on time moving forward’ Cillian huffed. It was obvious to you that he was in a bad mood.

‘Sure’ you responded sternly as you put on your reading glasses and pulled out your pencil case.

‘I wish he wouldn’t speak so loudly this morning’ Emma then whispered to you and you couldn’t help but giggle as, suddenly, your phone went off.

‘Y/N please’ Cillian huffed again as you tried to find it in your bag. ‘Turn it off’ he said somewhat irritated as it kept ringing.

But, instead of turning it off when you located it, you picked it up and walked outside.

‘Must be the lawyer from last night’ Thomas chuckled and Emma couldn’t help but laugh while Cillian overheard their whispering.

When you entered the class again, the unit coordinator, rather than Cillian, scolded at you as you sat down and you quickly put your phone down.

‘Sorry, won’t happen again’ you said bluntly as the unit co-ordinator placed a piece of paper in front of you.

The paper contained several questions and a time and date on top.

‘What is this?’ you asked Emma and Emma advised you that, before the exams, each of the students will have a one-on-one session with Cillian for 15 minutes to go through the performance of their character and ask some questions which are to be written down in advance and to be handed in by the end of today.

Your face turned pale immediately. You didn’t want to spend 15 minutes with Cillian on your own after all that had happened between you.

***

Following class, you decided to talk to Cillian about this and confronted him at his office, closing the door behind you as you entered.

‘You cannot be serious’ you said angrily as you put the paper onto his desk.

‘Trust me, it wasn’t my idea and I would much rather get out of this myself’ Cillian explained.

‘Just sign off on it. I am not doing this’ you said frustrated but Cillian shook his head.

‘No, I am not just going to sign off on this Y/N’ he said harshly and somewhat annoyed with your attitude.

‘Oh my god you are so selfish. You fucking hurt me Cillian, you know this? And now I have to suffer just a little bit more’ you said, tears building up in the corners of your eyes.

‘Don’t use what happened between us as an excuse Y/N. It was pretty obvious last night that you are over it’ Cillian said harshly.

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ you went on to ask, tears streaming down your face.

‘Dwayne’ he then said, angrily and upset.

‘Oh Jesus’ you huffed as you grabbed a tissue from Cillian’s desk and wiped your tears.

‘Did you sleep with him?’ Cillian then asked bluntly.

‘No, I didn’t fucking sleep with him Cillian. But even if I did, what do you care? You ended it’ you scolded as you began scribbling on the piece of paper in your hand.

‘Here are your fucking questions’ you said as you quickly before storming back out of his office in a haste, embarrassed for crying there right in font of him.

***

The following day, it was Emma who had her one-on-one session with Cillian and, since she had recovered from her hangover, she seemed pretty excited.

‘Em, when can I use the bathroom? I am busting’ you said, knocking on the door after she had been in there for an hour.

‘Two minutes, just getting ready’ Emma yelled out and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Jesus, a bit much for uni don’t you think’ you said amused as she finally emerged from the bathroom.

‘Well, I finally get some alone time with Mr Murphy’ she laughed and you rolled your eyes again. As if Cillian was silly enough to start something with yet another student, you thought.

‘Come by for a coffee at the shop after, tell us how it went’ Thomas said as you and him were getting ready for your shifts.

And, so she did, at 3pm sharp, she came into Solo Beanz and ordered her latte with a big smile on her face.

‘So, how was it?’ Thomas asked, handing her coffee to her as grinned at the ceiling.

‘Let’s just say, I am glad I wore the black lingerie that I bought last week’ she said, giving Thomas a wink and, just as she did, you dropped the whole container of sugar into one of the take away coffees, causing your manager to shout at you in frustration.

Your mind went blank as you overheard the conversation between Emma and Thomas and a feeling of nausea overcame you almost instantly.

You were disgusted by the thought of Cillian and Emma together in an intimate way. Was this really happening? Was it revenge or payback of some sort?

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo​ @vhscillian​ @ysmmsy​ @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  ​

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby

[elizabethsharmon]

reblog if you feel disrespected by skam france and demand official apology

below a full list of all the offenses:

Manon going back to Ch*rbage after he emotionally manipulated her to not testify against his brother (who got her drunk, took nudes of her, and kept blackmailing her) because “after all nothing happened = he didn’t r*pe her”

Making Arthur and Alexia a couple in the first place just so he could cheat on her with Noee and lie to her for weeks and then having her break up with him, only for them to suddenly being good friends in s6 and kissing in the last clip (which ngl almost made me throw up)

Bringing up Lucas’ insecurities and abandonment issues but never letting him talk about them with Eliott; posting some damage control posts on instagram instead and pretending like Lucas is fine with Eliott kissing Lola for the film (which he clearly wasn’t, the writers seem to not know him at all)

Wasting time to edit Tiff’s head onto different animals and posting things on that cyberbullying account that no one cared about instead of posting something from the grew + the worst social media ever

Not giving us a proper goodbye to the grew and not really saying anything about their future

Lying to the fans about god knows what we will see in s6 and baiting them to watch even though legit nothing of it happened

Not continuing Arthur’s story in s6 (fine, I don’t really care about that but we were supposed to see it so ???? )

Treating some fans more privileged than the others, giving them spoilers about the new seasons, inviting them on set

FranceTV Slash and SkamLaSerie instas mocking fans in their stories - saying stuff like Lola will cause the break up between Daphne and Basile, “addiction can be useful for flirting” (yikes), creating a ship war between fans in s5 by posting two photos of Alexia/Arthur and Noee/Arthur with a caption “we love them both, we can’t choose”, the host of the live of s6 calling people on tumblr “obsessed” and not apologizing when people said they’re offended by that, blocking people who were asking questions about why the SA was never mentioned again during the live

Liking all the praise but constantly ignoring fans when they were asking questions about writing choices and then blocking them

the rest of 50 offenses under cut cause turns out they really disrespected me more than I thought

feel free to add whatever you want if i forgot about something

None of the girls really apologizing to Imane at the end of season 4 after all they’ve put her through and after they took the side of the racist (who already had a history of drama with Emma) instead of their friend

Taking away Noee’s integrity and making her say “I love you” out loud (which was totally ooc cause an episode earlier she said LSF is her language and she doesn’t like her voice) after Arthur (who was leading her on for weeks) told her they can’t be together

Male gaze in s5 because even though the sign language is a body language, the way camera was lingering on her flat, bare stomach, a few times showing a close up on her boobs during the “song-dance” scene was male gaze

Lack of beautiful, slow-mo, piano music scenes for Alexia with Arthur staring at her awestruck because apparently she’s not worthy enough

Completely sidelining the deaf/hoh storyline in favour of cheating/love triangle plot

Reducing Camille to a translator and randomly making him Mika’s boyfriend because why the hell not

Completely forgetting about Mika and Lisa after s5 (did they ever find that roommate????)

Noee kissing Arthur right after he shared his traumatic story with her and overshadowing domestic abuse with cheating

Absolutely no follow-up about P*trick and domestic abuse after s5 

Having P*trick cheat on Arthur’s mom with Emma’s mom because they’re all one big family

Random crackfic farm episode that didn’t make absolutely ANY sense

Killing Fifi rip [*]

Arthur getting hit by The Car and being perfectly fine the next day

The Boy Squad becoming cheating apologists, Lucas giving Arthur the same advice he gave to Emma in s1 and Yann (who got hurt because of it back then) supporting it

Character regression, especially for Lucas, and the whole boy squad acting out of character

Continuously trying to make Lucas look like a bad guy because they knew we would forgive him everything

Arthur suddenly liking art even though it hasn’t been ever mentioned before and his whole instagram was filled with space related posts

Parallels between Eliott/Lucas and Arthur/Noee

Catherine - or lack of her - aka the queerbait from s3

Completely ignoring character’s birthdays - Basile and Manon (second year in a row)

Not introducing Lola before and making s6 about a complete stranger but still expecting the fans to like her from the get-go and watch the show by baiting the fans with the promise of “unofficial mains” (Daphne and Eliott)

Forcing the Lola/Eliott friendship and selling it in the promo as sister/brother relationship instead of writing it in a way that would make it flow naturally

Making Eliott Otteli Urbex King only to forget the plot after more or less three clips; also having Eliott hide the truth from Lucas for months and then pretending to resolve it in a text to Lola ??? which didn’t make sense in the first place but then it turned out that it was just damage control

Making Lola hook up with much older guys than her over and over again and having one of them s*xually assault just so Eliott could play the hero and save her; never bringing that up again

Making Eliott punch people left and right - anything to protect the ladies, Sofiane punching Ch*rbage in s4 can agree I guess

Making Eliott Otteli Urbex King only to forget the plot after more or less three clips; also having Eliott hide the truth from Lucas for months and then pretending to resolve it in a text to Lola ??? which didn’t make sense in the first place but then it turned out that it was just damage control

Letting Eliott talk about his past and insecurities only so Lola could prey on them later and emotionally manipulate him into drinking

Also Eliott not letting Lola apologize and brushing off her apologies because apparently that was nothing at all and it’s okay to let people walk you over and manipulate you 

Not letting Lucas speak for himself

The whole Lux & Obscurus plot, having Eliott write the film about his and Lucas’ relationship and what his love means to Eliott only to have Lola play in it, not adjusting the script so that it would fit the change and still keeping the Eliott/Lola kiss as a big fuck you to the fandom instead of having it end with a forehead touch and fade to black especially that they haven’t even showed it to us again during the screening of Eliott’s film (but it made all the other couples turned on enough to kiss in that exact moment so maybe it had a purpose) (it didn’t what the fuck was that)

Also acting like Lucas can’t spare a few hours to film it with Eliott cause he has to sTuDy FoR tHe BaC when they were filming it in the middle of a night on Friday, how is that realistic

Not giving Eliott any friends of his own and pretending like he’s a lone wolf even though he’s the biggest sunshine ever and he’s naturally drawn to people; acting like there are no other studens at his film school who could help him film his project so instead he let Lola find random people who knew nothing about filming to help him; having a bunch of random people at the screening of his film and if they were supposed to be his “friends” from the film school then I’m gonna throw hands

Acting like we will see what “minute by minute” really means and “see Eliott like we’ve never seen him before” which never happened

Switching POV for two clips only and they all revolved around Lola because they decided to go with su*cide attempt in episode 9

Also ending that episode with a su*cide note even though the next clip was before midnight on Friday

Giving Lola the worst therapist ever and a really poor attempt at cheering her up from the nurse

Enforcing that “having a loved one” is “the real reason to change” instead of sending the message that you should change for yourself first and foremost and showing that reaching out for professional help is a good thing and can really help you

Acting like ED can be cured by italian cuisine and not mentioning it again for weeks; having Daphne ask Lola not to go to rehab because they have each other and a few clips after that she’s suddenly after her first therapy (love that for her but there’s something huge missing here)

Making Lola’s life a living hell and a misery porn for 10 weeks straight

Making P*trick, Thierry and Lola’s biological dads The Worst (men are trash but it would be nice to see some good parenting on the show)

Giving all the members of La Mif two or three personality traits and not fleshing out their characters

Giving Maya a girlfriend because a season without a love triangle is a waste

Not really developing Mayla well and having their first kiss right after Eliott/Lola cursed kiss as a preemptive damage control to shut us up

Never mentioning why Lola was doing

Wasting a good chunk of the season on Tiff and that insta account and ending it with “she’s addicted to social media”

Giving Yann like one line each season after s3

Reducing Sofiane to the background dancer in s5 and s6

Hating female characters

F/M friendships are only possible if the guy is gay, otherwise cheating always had to be involved

and you know. in general. pretty much everything they did after s3.

[naivesilver]

Hello!!! The time has come.

A S K T I M E

So: top five August moments. The wishrealm Pinocchio counts too if you want!

Since that you asked me to wait for a few days before sending you asks, and I didn’t, answer them when you want!! No questions asked, no problem!✨

If it weren't for the laws of this land (and the fact you're one of my dearest friends) I would have had your head for sending this THREE DAYS BEFORE I HAD TIME TO REBLOG THE POST. Bitch.

Akggasjkh thank you, worm <3

Ask Me My Top 5 Anything

So...August. Love of my life. What a tool. He has some GREAT moments in the show, and yeah, some of them are signs of an abominable stupidity, but I've already talked in length about those. His month is nearly over, so I think it's a good time to speak of a few of his key scenes with the utmost seriousness. Or near enough, since it's August Booth we're talking about LMAO

1) The Stranger closing scene

Okay this is literally heartbreak central, but I couldn't not include this moment. It's August at his most vulnerable - he's given up on his goal at long last, he wants to open up to his father but he still can't tell the truth because he would never be believed, there's just so much raw emotion in every single one of his gestures I can't fucking cope with it. And then???? Marco just...takes him in, literally and figuratively???? Even if he doesn't know who this man is???? I swear, him motioning for August to come in gets me EVERY time. I got a lump in my throat just thinking about it. So yeah, it gets pride of place.

2) Getting little Emma off the streets

When I say I screamed the first time I saw this scene...I was compulsively texting people like "is this baby August????????" and then it WAS. Oh God. My son. At that point he was still trying to do the right thing and alright, there was nothing ideal about that situation, but he saved her life AND turned it into a pivotal moment for her identity throughout the series. Plus, it hints at some parts of August's own life that are angsty as fuck but we never could have glimpsed otherwise. 100/10 I want to protect this boy with my life and soul.

3) The fight with Wish!Hook

(You can tell that Tougher Than The Rest was my favorite episode, can't you akjfkkafjhfkh)

Listen. The fight wasn't the point of the episode. I know. The main issue was Pinocchio struggling with his insecurities and helping Emma in both worlds. HOWEVER...He leaped in to protect Emma! Like a motherfucking boss! Even though he's not a swordsman! And the conversation in itself had me hollering from start to finish. His reaction to Emma revealing she has history with some version of Hook is just * chef's kiss * - he literally turned to her like "girl WHAT". Best friend behavior to the core. I want to screenshot his face and send it to all my baby teammates the next time they show me their new beau for approval.

4) Teaching Henry how to ride a bike

IT COUNTS EVEN IF IT WAS OFFSCREEN OKAY????? It was cute! It means they bonded! And it was one of perhaps two or three salvageable scenes in the entire seventh season, not to mention the only reference to Pinocchio besides that little stranger in the last episode, and that doesn't fucking count. Yes, I was that desperate for August content last year then I realized I could write my own.

5) "I call it medieval chic"

I have a soft spot for this little exchange, even if it's incredibly minor. I don't know why, but it always puts a smile on my face - perhaps it's the fact that for once the banter between August and Emma has nothing to do with life-threatening events, tragic pasts or something of the like. It's just two idiots making fun of each other, as one does. And the lock is STILL on the door, seasons later - August's impact, everyone. Keeping the Charmings safe even when he's sitting in an elementary school class.

[puckmeupfam]

The Right to Be Jealous | Jake Virtanen

Word Count: 3177 Note: Friends with benefits to lovers with the one and only. I feel like everything I write is same ice cream different cone, but I like to give the people what I want.

Sitting in the shadowed booth, your nails dug into the faux leather upholstery. Everyone else was out dancing and laughing loudly on the sticky floor. They were relaxed, blowing off steam, singing along to the ‘00s pop throwback that was blasting. You just stayed glaring daggers at your vodka cran that had slowly become watered down by the ice, shedding a puddle of condensation. There was one other member of the Canucks posse who was not on the dance floor: Jake was standing with his elbow on the bar while his eyes were on the woman perched on the barstool. In your desperation, you had even tried that body language deciphering trick of looking at his feet just to find them pointed towards her as well. 

Jake was free to do whatever he wants, you told yourself, you have no hold over him. The two of you met shortly after you moved to Vancouver for school. At first, you were friends but nothing more. Yes, you found each other attractive, that was clear. But you were much more compatible at making sarcastic jokes and counseling each other through life’s daily mindfucks than anything else. Then, Jake started inviting you as his plus one to events and parties, he had found that everyone had a tendency to pair off at those events and he wasn’t a fan of not having anyone’s attention. That’s how it started, him shushing you because you were incapable of keeping your voice down and you saving him whenever he got caught in a boring, bureaucratic conversation. 

And that’s how it went until last year’s Halloween party.

You both drank more than usual. And maybe the catalyst was him placing his hand on your bare thigh where the costume had ridden up. Or maybe it was you lamenting about how long it had been since you had gotten laid. But probably it was him tying a knot in that damn cherry stem. No matter how it happened, you found yourself being pulled by the wrist down the hallway of his building. Both of you drunk and giggly. When you stepped into his apartment, he spun you around so your back was flush against the cold door. He spent a minute staring down at you, not laughing anymore. You let yourself get lost in his bright eyes that kept flickering to your lips. Without even realizing it you brought your hand up to his face and stroked your thumb along the apple of his cheek. Suddenly he leaned down and kissed you, hard. The hand on his face went to wrap around his neck while the one previously at your side ended up tangled in his hair. You tasted booze and hints of sweet grape from jello shots as he licked your lip. When you opened your mouth there was something else on his tongue which you classified as “fuck-why-have-we-been-doing-anything-but-this.” No matter what the catalyst was you were gone.

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache and messy hair. On your right, Jake was sprawled on his stomach with one tattooed arm thrown over your hip. As you started to shift he groaned and tightened his hold on you. Reaching over to scratch your nails against his scalp, you spoke in a scratchy voice, “I’m just getting coffee, you big baby.” When you came back with the mugs full of steaming liquid, Jake’s with an extra splash of cream, you both sat against the headboards quietly. Minutes passed but it was Jake who broke the silence, “(Y/N), you know, I’m so sorry,” he said in a nervous jumble. You didn’t know what you were expecting him to say but it wasn’t that. 

“I just really, really don’t want to fuck us up. You’re so important to me and I just can’t not talk to you every day. It’s not something I can live with,” he continued. When you peered over at him he wasn’t looking back at you but rather locking his eyes on a chip on his mug that he worried with his thumb. Your chest felt tight and your chin wobbled a bit. If Jake was trying not to ruin your friendship then you would have to try too. So you steeled your emotions and forced your hands not to shake as you brought the mug to your lips.

And that was that. 

Until the holiday party. Where the same thing happened, except the next morning he didn’t say anything. Instead, when you moved to get coffee he held your wrist back and insisted he take you out to a diner. While you would really rather him not tell you that last night was a mistake in front of witnesses, you still threw on a hoodie and did your best to tame your hair though you didn’t bother attempting anything for the dark circles under your eyes. The surprising part was that when you got to the diner he didn’t say anything about the night prior. He even went so far as to order for you before you could even open your mouth. Caramel french toast with strawberries and powdered sugar. And when the food came to your table, he even went so far as to nudge the syrup in your direction. 

He never brought it up. And he didn’t the next day. Or the next. But then he pulled you into a corner at Bo’s New Year’s Eve party, planting his lips on yours until you found yourself slipping out the door with him with over thirty minutes remaining until midnight. Whether you liked it or not once was an accident, twice was a coincidence, three was a pattern, and after that… Well, you had simply stopped counting once you got to eleven. Stopped trying to make sense of it. Just went with it.

You’re broken from your memories by Troy and Emma coming back to the table to get their things. With the night winding down and your group dispersing, some realities occurred to you. Jake had picked you up at your apartment earlier in the evening and both of you had planned that he would take you home at the end of the night. Apparently, he had forgotten. Or maybe he just didn’t care. You weren’t sure which was worse: being thrown to the side for a blonde at the bar or being such a blip on your best friend’s radar that he would totally forget about your existence.

“Hey, would you guys be able to give me a ride home by any chance?” you asked, drawing their attention to you. The couple shared a look before nodding along. You grabbed your bag and jacket before scurrying out of the booth and following behind them, not sparing Jake a glance. Slipping into the backseat of Troy’s car, you reminded him of your address. They had the radio turned up lowly so you could vaguely hear the tune but not quite catch the lyrics. You looked at your phone for a few moments before Emma spoke. 

“Didn’t Jake drive you?” You held in a sigh at her loaded question. While you had never spoken about your situation with Jake to anyone, not even Jake himself, you knew other people noticed that there was something going on between the two of you. It wasn’t like you were particularly cautious, nothing you and Jake did was well thought out, the two of you had surely drunkenly made out in too bright of a corner or stumbled out the door a bit too loudly. And everyone had likely discussed whatever the two of you were doing after you left. And Jake might have even talked about your situation during late-night card games on roadies. And… You snapped yourself out of the weird self-analyzing pity show to answer Emma and save yourself from hyperventilating in your friends’ car.

“He did,” you began, “but he was… busy, and I didn’t want to get in his way.” You were sitting behind Emma so you had a much better view of Troy as he reacted to your answer. He squinted before looking over at his girlfriend with a raised brow. Emma’s only response was a mumbled, “Oh.” 

As Troy pulled up in front of your building, you were glad that they didn’t push further. You thanked them profusely for the ride before jumping out and speed walking into your apartment. You closed and locked the door as soon as you got in before pouring yourself a glass of water. One glance at your phone showed that you had many texts waiting for you and one flash of Jake’s name had you powering the device all the way off and plugging it in. You wiped your makeup off and rubbed in your favorite rich moisturizer. Even though it was still fairly early, you felt exhausted with emotions that you shouldn’t have. Nevertheless, you took a melatonin gummy for good measure and brushed your teeth before encasing yourself in blankets and waiting for sleep.

When you woke up to the morning sun on your face, you got up purposefully avoiding your phone. After drinking a cup of coffee you decided to cook a healthy breakfast. Maybe if you detoxed your body a bit it would help to detox Jake from your mind. When you were finished you sat at the counter. You couldn’t stop flashing through every moment with Jake, looking for hidden meanings in his actions and replaying his words to search for anything valuable. It was like you couldn’t stop yourself from relishing in the emotional pain. You weren’t sure how much time passed before you tasted metal and realized you had been chewing up your lip in thought. 

This simply wouldn’t work. No more wallowing, you decided. Cleaning up the pans and dishes you had used with a bit more elbow grease than you would typically use you shoved everything back in its typical place. You stopped yourself for a minute as something occurred to you. While you wished it had been an epiphany about moving on or signing up for online dating, you realized that your kitchen organization was completely lacking. Your pots were nowhere near your stove. Your cups weren’t close enough to your sink. Your pantry was a disaster.

Without any hesitation, you started pulling everything out of the cabinets. Before you knew it your counters were covered in plates, glasses, mugs, pans, and a rice cooker. You had just started alphabetizing your spices when you heard a knock on your door. With a loud groan, you ran to the door and swung it open without even looking through the peephole. Standing in the hallway was none other than Jake Virtanen. You stilled your frenzied movements to just stare at him. His eyes were sharp as they studied your face. 

“Can I come in,” you barely heard his words but they somehow woke you up and you opened the door wider before spinning around and racing back into your kitchen. Your heart pounded wildly as you went back to work. Nerves coursed through your veins so you weren’t being productive but rather picking up an item and setting it down in a slightly different place. The sound of Jake’s footsteps followed you and you could feel him hovering.

“Um… (Y/N)?”

“Yes, Jake?”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He paused for a minute to watch you scramble around like a chicken with its head cut off.

“I honestly have no idea.” You huffed and forced your hands to still on the counter top.

“I’m organizing my kitchen.” You forced your face into an expression that could be read as ‘duh’ but given your flushed cheeks and wild eyes, it didn’t seem to translate. 

“Can we talk about what happened last night,” Jake asked. While you hadn’t assumed this was a typical social visit, his question reignited your panic and you resumed your pottering around the kitchen. At first, Jake just seemed bewildered but after a loud clang erupted from two pots you were moving from one side of the counter to the other his eyebrows furrowed into a scowl and he snapped, “(Y/N), do you mind?” 

You threw up your hands and turned to him as he continued, “I want to talk to you and have you actually listen like a normal person instead of doing… whatever it is that you’re doing over there.”

“Talk about what,” you asked, partially trying to buy time and partially trying to seem blase.

“About last night.”

“Nothing happened last night, Jake.”

“I watched you leave with Troy and Emma. You just left, (Y/N).”

“So? You were busy, I wanted to go home.” Without you even realizing it, Jake was taking steps towards you until you glanced up from the floor to find him right in front of you. He reached out his hand to hold your arm. Whether he was trying to comfort you or prevent you from escaping you weren’t sure. The spot where his skin met yours sent tingles down your spine that you forced yourself not to react to.

“When you left, I called Troy,” he said. Now this was news to you. Before you could interject Jake spoke again, “I had been trying to text and call you but you weren’t answering so I finally called Troy. He said you left without me because of that girl.” You tried to pull away but his hand around your arm tightened.

“You were jealous,” Jake said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. You glared at him, you couldn’t believe that he would come to your apartment just to embarrass you about your feelings for him.

“I wasn’t jealous. I have no right to be jealous about what or who you do,” you snapped. He threw his head back and sighed.

“That’s the fucking point, (Y/N). I want you to have the right to be jealous.”

Your heart stopped. Your mind stopped. You looked up at him just to see his eyes boring into yours. 

“What,” you asked hazily.

“You heard me. I want you to have the right to be jealous.”

“B-but what does that mean?”

“It means… I love you, okay? I love you and I want to be with you and I want you to be jealous even though you don’t ever have to be. Because you’re the only one I see in a crowded room. Because every time we go to a wedding I imagine it’s us standing up there in front of our friends and family. Because I can’t fucking stand being away from you. Because you’re the most important person in my life,” he said emphatically, vehemently. 

“You love me?”

“Yeah, (Y/N), I love you,” he said with a smile on his face. This all felt so confusing and so surreal and you wanted to pinch yourself because this couldn’t be real life. In real life, Jake was the one who decided that the two of you were friends with benefits. Jake was the one who didn’t want to take it any further. Jake was the one who talked with girls at bars.

“Since when,” you murmured. Jake’s smile only brightened.

“Since always,” he told you.

“But, Jake, you said you didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You never seemed like you wanted to take us any further, where is this coming from?” At your words, Jake released your arm and rubbed his palm along his face. The tables turned and now he was the one pacing through your kitchen.

“I thought you wanted that. I thought you were going to tell me that it was all a mistake, that you didn’t really like me.” His words made your stomach squeeze and it felt like you had been slapped in the face. As much as you wished you could wrap your arms around him and kiss him madly, telling him that of course you wouldn’t do that. Because he was Jake and you were you and that would never be a mistake. But you knew that if you fell into him now you wouldn’t get clarity, so you pushed on. “Then what have we been doing? If you were so scared, if you really felt that way, why did we keep happening?” 

Jake stopped his pacing and shoved his hands in his pockets. He refused to look at you, trailing his eyes along the mess in your kitchen and the pictures on your fridge before settling on the floor.

“I couldn’t keep myself away from you. I thought that if that was all I could have with you it would still be better than nothing,” his words were quiet but you still heard him. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and you opened your mouth to speak before Jake interrupted you.

“But then I called Troy last night asking where you were, what happened to you… and he said that you liked me too and I needed to snap out of whatever I was doing and man up,” he brought his eyes up to yours, “he said he was sick of me whining about you like a lovesick puppy and that I needed to, quote, go get my girl.”

His eyes read nothing but love and sincerity. You trusted and believed him. You didn’t want to stumble around your feelings anymore so you stepped forward until you were chest to chest.

“I love you too, Jake,” you said drawing your hand up to his neck. His face erupted into a smile, but instead of leaning in to kiss you, he spoke.

“Do you want to do this thing with me?” Your responding laugh was watery but he waited for your response.

“What? Being in love?”

“Well, yes, that’s pretty important. But I meant being in a real relationship. Y’know? Hold hands in public, change our relationship statuses on Facebook, the whole deal.”

“You don’t even use Facebook,” you teased. He groaned dramatically but the smile seemed to be glued to his face.

“You know what I mean,” he said, “do you want to do this thing with me?”

Jake’s eyes sparkled and you bit your lip. You didn’t deign his question with a response, just brought the hand that rested on his neck down so you could capture his lips in a kiss. For a few blissful moments, it was just you and him. You arched your back to press yourself more fully against him as he planted one hand on your hip as the other snaked up your back. As he moved to press scorching hot open-mouthed kisses down your throat he broke the silence.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

You pulled on his hair until his mouth was back against yours and you whispered against his lips an answering yes.

And if Troy Stecher whistled and hooted an “I told you so,” when you and Jake showed up to the next Canucks gathering, hands tightly intertwined… well, would he be wrong?

[thejollyroger-writer]

Your Eyes Look Like Coming Home (1/1)

Just a simple little reunited childhood sweethearts one-shot that’s been on my mind for a while and begged to be let out recently. Title taken from TSwift’s “Everything Has Changed,” and the title of his book is from Sylvia Plath’s poem “The Rival”

Also on AO3

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Emma Swan sits at the table of her favorite restaurant, eyes wide on the dessert plate sitting in front of her. It's not what she should be looking at, of course, but it's the only thing she can focus on without her mind spiraling out of control. 

Again. 

She thought they were happy. She thought they had a really great thing going, and didn't want to mess all that up. In her head, it all made sense. Just because she wasn't ready to marry him didn't mean they couldn't still be together, right? 

Apparently not. According to him, if she didn't want to marry him now, she was never going to change her mind and therefore there was no reason for them to be together anymore. 

It made no sense to her. Lots of things about him made no sense to her, but she always thought that was one of the things she liked about him — his excitement over a particular piece of furniture, his love of the opera, his desire to rinse his hair with cold water. But all of those things were… quirks. Things that made him Walsh. 

It's not like she just dropped this on him, either. They had talked before about the future, about buying a house outside the city and having a family and all of those things, and every time, Emma assured him that, though she's not ready for it now, she will be someday. 

When he decided that someday meant right now, she wasn't sure. 

So she said no. It shouldn't have been a surprise. She said, just as she had during those other conversations, that she just isn't really ready for that kind of commitment. Yes, she loves him, yes, she wants to be with him, but she just isn't ready for that. 

What was so hard for him to understand about that? 

" This doesn't have to be an ultimatum," she told him, staring only at the ring in his hand, refusing to even look in his eyes. She believed what she was saying… right? "This isn't a make-or-break for us." 

"It is for me." 

There was a coldness in his voice that she never heard before, a side of him that he had somehow managed to hide from her for the last three years. 

Why wasn't she upset?

"Really? This is — this is it for you? Either I say I want to marry you, which you already know isn't the truth, or we end everything, right now?" 

He dropped the ring on the table, folding his hands in front of him. Finally, she pulled her focus up to his face, as emotionless as she has ever seen it, his brown eyes dark with what she can only describe as rage. "Yes."  

She said nothing. There's nothing for her to say, really, staring at the words "Marry me" written so beautifully across the plate next to her slice of cheesecake. 

The silence closes around them. She should find something to say, should tell him that she wants him to stay, but her voice is gone. She doesn't even know for sure if the words would come from a place of truth, or a place of fear, simply trying to hold on to the only good thing that has happened to her recently. So much in her life had gone wrong, her parents leaving her and leaving Storybrooke and fucking Neal in the years after that. Compared to him, Walsh was a breath of fresh air, a soft summer breeze to Neal's tropical storm, and it was the warmth she clung to more than anything else. 

"Really?" he says, breaking the silence, his voice much louder than it needs to be in the quiet restaurant. Everyone has to know what's going on by now, a fact that Emma tries to ignore as best she can. 

Tries to push down, like every other emotion. 

"You're not going to say anything? Nothing at all." 

She swallows, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. 

And decides. 

"I have nothing to say," she breathes, feeling a warmth — her own fire, her own power — raging up inside of her. "If you can't respect my wishes and see this from my point of view, then no, I don't want to marry you." 

This is, apparently, all he needs to hear and, with a huff and a fist slammed on the table and a very expensive-looking ring stuffed back into the pocket of his dress coat, he leaves her there, staring down at her cheesecake and trying not to think about how many people just witnessed one of the most embarrassing moments of her life. 

It takes a bit, but the regular din of the restaurant starts to rise up around her, people turning back to their own conversations, their own lives, and leaving her behind. 

Just like everyone else has. 

With a sarcastic grin, she takes her pointer finger and runs it through the chocolate words on the plate, crossing out the words, then sticks her finger in her mouth. Another moment of contemplation, and a shrug, and she picks up her fork and begins to eat the dessert sitting in front of her. 

Walsh probably left the bill with her, too, so she might as well enjoy the dessert she will have to pay for.

So she eats his spumoni, too. 

  It's a cool spring night in Boston, and there's just enough chill in the air for her to slide her old leather jacket over her shoulders. It may not be the most appropriate with her black dress, but something about the softness of the red leather always reminded her of peace and of happiness and of home. 

The only home she ever had, really. A home she had found herself thinking about more and more recently, though she could never figure out why. 

Thinking of everything she left behind when she drove off for the last time, all those years ago. As a teenaged girl who had never known a real home before, Storybrooke was as welcoming as anywhere had ever been, and the friendships that she made there were the strongest she had ever known, even if she did only still talk to Ruby with a phone call or a text from Mary Margaret on holidays. 

Nothing in her life had been the same since she left that small town, but it was a change that she had convinced herself was a good thing. 

A change that was necessary, even if not on the best terms. 

God, she wonders if he was as embarrassed as she was tonight, the last person she said she couldn't marry. Did he feel this humiliated when she said she couldn't go to England with him? They had been so happy — possibly the happiest she had ever been, though her life was much easier at eighteen than it was now. 

She can't help herself: as her tired feet take her down the right blocks to her apartment — separate from Walsh as another way to protect herself from getting hurt — she thinks about what her life might have been like if she said yes that first time, if she had followed her heart instead of being overwhelmed by her fear. 

If she had gone to Oxford with him…  

Would they still be there? Happily roaming the streets of England, hand in hand, while she supported his dreams? What would she be doing? Certainly not living out her days as a bail bondsman, luring men into honey traps to get them to pay their debts? 

And, perhaps most importantly, would she be happy? Would she want to marry him, never having experienced the life-shattering heartbreak that came from telling him they couldn't be together? 

  Before she even realizes she has walked eight blocks, she's standing in front of the door to her apartment — but something in the shop window next to it catches her eye. 

It catches more than that, once she realizes what she is looking at, and for a moment, she can barely breathe. 

She never thought she would see him again, those bright blue eyes and charming smile. Sure, it's been ten years since she last saw him, since she said goodbye, but she would recognize him anywhere. 

She figures that would be true with any first love, but especially someone as stunning as him, and someone who left as much of an impact on her life as he did. 

For a moment, she tries to convince herself that it isn't him, that it can't be him, because that would be insane. But, more telling than his blue eyes, are the words written in block letters under his picture on the poster: "Up-and-Coming Author Killian Jones, Book Signing April 23" 

April 23. That's just a few days away. How long was this poster hanging here? Did she really pass by it all those times without noticing it? She knows that she was spending a lot of nights at Walsh's apartment, trying to appease his desire to live with her. She needed her own space, told him this all the time, but it was just another thing about her that he never tried to understand. That has to be why she is just noticing this for the first time. 

Dorothy, one of the girls that works in the bookstore, sees her staring at the poster and waves through the window, and even with all the turmoil going through Emma's mind, she can't help but smile at her braided pigtails and plaid button-down shirt tied around her waist. Dorothy always did know how to make Emma smile, always offered her a cup of coffee or a donut from the back room when Emma needed to come in to talk to August, her landlord and owner of the bookstore — or when Emma just needed a quiet place to stay for a bit, a book in her hands as she curled up on the couch in the back corner of the store, hiding from the demons in her head that came for her sometimes when she was alone. 

Emma waves back, trying her best to smile, and takes one more look at the poster on the window before climbing the steps to unlock the door. 

  His eyes greet her every time she leaves her apartment for the next few days, bright and welcoming and smiling as they have been since she was sixteen, lost and alone with nowhere to go, new to Storybrooke and small-town life. Besides Ruby, he was her first real friend (before he became something more), and she is pulled back into those memories with each glance at the bookstore window. 

On Thursday, the day before his book signing, she dares to walk into the store, deciding to gather as much intel as she can from August and Dorothy without seeming too suspicious. 

They already have books piled on the table in the back of the store and are working on lining the few folding chairs they keep in storage around the table when she comes in, exhausted from a day of chasing skips but needing to know the answers to some of the questions that have been eating away at her. 

She wanders around the shop for a bit, perusing the bookshelves and trying not to give herself away, until she finally winds up in front of the display set up next to the table. His picture on the back cover takes her breath away, even though it is the same one from the poster in the window, and she runs her thumb across his cheek before turning her attention to the summary on the back of the book: 

At just nineteen, Nathaniel Rogers has left everything he has ever known to move across the world to his dream school, only for everything he has left behind to crumble around him. Heart broken and alone, he wanders the streets of London mourning the loss of the only family he has ever known, only to be pulled back to his feet by a mysterious older man and his crew of poets. 

"It's almost based on real life, you know," Dorothy says, pulling her out of her mind before it can spiral again. "Maybe not the band of poets thing, but he's said that everything that happens to the main character in the beginning happened to him when he went to college." 

"You've read this?" 

"Yeah, and it's incredible. The way he weaves together storytelling and poetry and heartache and pain and happiness? I could read it over and over again and still love it as much as the first time." 

His writing has always been like that, she almost says, but catches herself at the last second. "Wow," she says instead. "Sounds really good. Can I buy a copy tonight and bring it back tomorrow for the signing?" 

With a smile, Dorothy obliges. 

  It's been a very long time since Emma has stayed up all night to read a book, but with Killian's book, Emma just can't help herself. The tale that he weaves, blending the present with heartbreaking flashbacks all mixed with a poetic voice so similar to what Emma remembers, is one that she gets so engulfed in that, before she even realizes it, it's 2 o'clock in the morning and she has less than 50 pages left. 

Home . That's what reading his book reminds her of, the warm feeling of life in Storybrooke, the welcoming atmosphere of Granny's diner and the comfort of walking the trail around the lake. But there's more to it, too, the obvious growth that his writing has gone through since he was a teenager, honed to an almost unfair perfection during his time as Oxford and his adulthood. 

Since she left him. 

  Showing up the next day is both the hardest and easiest decision she has made in a while. She wants to see him, she realizes, pulling her hair up into a high ponytail. She wants to see how he has grown, wants to catch up with him and learn all the things she has missed by staying behind. 

But she’s also terrified of both of those things. What if he doesn’t want to see her? 

No. That’s not what she’s afraid of. It’s stupid , really, to feel like this, to have butterflies for the first time since… 

She can’t remember the last time she had butterflies. She doesn’t think it was with Walsh, and it certainly wasn’t with Neal. It had to have been with him. Ten years since she’s felt like this, her heart pounding quickly in her chest as she grips her copy of The Great Light Borrowers against her, walking slowly down the steps from her apartment. She’s a few minutes late, just as she planned, hoping to show up after he has already started reading to avoid any chance of smalltalk. 

But seeing him there, his hair longer than it ever was when they were kids, his light blue dress shirt under a dark grey vest and unbuttoned enough to reveal a shock of dark hair on his chest, she feels something much more than nervousness. There is a tightness under the butterflies, a turning of her stomach just listening to his voice as he reads from one of the first pages of the book, and she has to lean back against one of the shelves to keep herself upright. 

“The details of that night are a haze, even now, years later,” he reads, his voice perfect and lilting and exactly as she imagined it as she read through the same narration the night before. “Certain things come back as clear as day: the sweet smell of the patisserie as I made my way down the street; the hum of the lights and the cars mixed with that patient quiet of the middle of the night, present even in the middle of the city; the feel of each rain drop as they began to fall softly from above. But I cannot recall where I was, even after all these years of searching for that patisserie. I know quite a few people made comments about my appearance as I stumbled down the sidewalk, but I cannot tell you what any of them said, what they looked like or how they looked at me. 

“But the heartbreak that I was feeling, returned back home to London for the first time since I was boy just to learn that everything I left at home was no more, is a feeling that I was unable to run or drive or swim away from, on my feet or in bottles of whatever I could get my hands on.” 

Emma doesn’t realize he has looked up from the book until she opens her own eyes, having closed them to both experience the words being told as they were meant to be, and to keep herself from running away as fast as she can. But when she opens them and finds him staring directly at her, his mouth half-agape and his bright eyes wide behind his glasses, his gaze is the only anchor that keeps her in the bookstore. 

But she knows he has to keep reading, knows that he is being paid to read for a certain amount of time, so he cannot simply choose to stop where he is and talk to her — or run from her, whichever feeling he is currently overwhelmed by. A flush rises to his cheeks, and Emma realizes he must be feeling one of them — but as quickly as it started, he clears his throat and continues to read. 

“To say I was at my lowest is an understatement of the worst kind, but in retrospect, I truly believe that I had to be drowning to that extent in order to move through the grates at the bottom of life to find the men who would pull me back to normalcy. 

“So this, dear readers, is the story of how I got there, and how I got back.” 

But this time, when he looks up, she is gone. 

  — — — 

  He’s read the words so many times, in his head and out loud, that he practically has them memorized. But, despite all his practice with public speaking, it’s something completely different when it’s his own words, words that he has stressed and worried and practically bled over, he’s learned, so he keeps his eyes down, focusing on the pages in front of him, the feel of them against his fingers and the smell of the newly-printed ink. 

“Certain things come back as clear as day: the sweet smell of the patisserie as I made my way down the street; the hum of the lights and the cars mixed with that patient quiet of the middle of the night, present even in the middle of the city; the feel of each rain drop as they began to fall softly from above. ”

His greatest struggle with this, he’s learned, is separating himself from the very personal words of his prologue. Because, while veiled in fiction, he does remember the night that started all of it, the night he learned his brother never made it home from helping him move across the ocean, and it destroyed him. There was no patisserie, there was no rain, but he was drowning in his own way, drowning in his own grief, just as Nathaniel is at the beginning of his story.

“But I cannot recall where I was, even after all these years of searching for that patisserie. I know quite a few people made comments about my appearance as I stumbled down the sidewalk, but I cannot tell you what any of them said, what they looked like or how they looked at me. 

“But the heartbreak that I was feeling, returned back home to London for the first time since I was boy just to learn that everything I left at home was no more, is a feeling that I was unable to run or drive or swim away from, on my feet or in bottles of whatever I could get my hands on.” 

As he finishes this sentence, he hears the voice of Robin, his agent, in his head: “I understand the nervousness, but you have to look at your crowd sometimes. Take a breath, look up, and continue.” 

So that’s what he does. 

Inhale. 

Look up.

Holy fuck. 

He can’t breathe. Literally, his lungs won’t move, every part of his chest is keeping him from exhaling, completely stuck. Except his already-quickened heart, working overtime through his nervousness, which takes to pounding at the sight of her. 

Emma Swan, as he lives and breathes. Almost definitely not a figment of his imagination, since his mind is already working hard enough to read in front of an audience. 

No, he takes that back. She’s definitely not a figment of his imagination, because she is somehow more beautiful than he has imagined her to be, in all the times he has imagined her in the last ten years. Her few pictures on social media do her no justice, because the angel standing in front of him, gripping a copy of his book against her chest and staring at him, takes his breath away. 

No. No, he can’t lose track of where he is supposed to be. For some reason, this small bookstore wanted to have him read while in Boston for his book tour, and wanted to offer him more money than usual — so he has to follow through with what he has promised them. 

So he clears his throat, tries to calm the pounding of his heart in his chest, and turns back to the words. 

Focusing on them is harder than it has ever been before, though, and her green eyes haunt him in a way somehow different than the way they had before, staring deeper into his soul now that he has seen her for the first time in ten years. She has always been real, has always been a ghost from the past, a mistake he constantly wished he never made. He’s dreamt about being reunited with her, probably even daydreamed about it, but he never imagined it would actually happen. For the first time in a while, he feels hopeful, a warmth in his chest that he vaguely remembers from the nights they used to fall asleep next to each other. 

But when he looks up again, the warmth is torn away, and it takes all his strength not to choke out a sob between the words. 

Because when he looks up again, she is not there. 

He goes through the rest of the reading hoping that maybe she is just out of sight, maybe she just went to the bathroom or to get a refreshment, but when he finishes the excerpt and she still has not reappeared, he realizes that his hope has, once again, dwindled away. 

Does she know how much he regrets leaving her behind? Giving in to her demand for an ultimatum and starting a new chapter of his life without her? As hard as he has tried to move on, he’s always found himself thinking about her, wondering where she is and if she is doing okay. He even went so far as to add her on social media a few years back, hoping it would offer a glimpse into her life now, but she barely posted anything — which really should not have been that much of a surprise, since she had always been so closed off. 

His few phone calls with Dave had proven just a fruitful, offering the barest trace of her, mostly through updates from Ruby. She was no longer in Storybrooke, had left around the same time he had — and, just like him, had never returned. 

But — Boston. She must be in Boston now, because he can’t imagine a scenario where she found out he was here any other way, nonetheless traveled to see him just to disappear. 

He hopes she’s happy. He has so many questions, wants to learn every little thing that has happened since he last saw her, but, more than anything else, he wants her to be happy. If she wanted to talk to him, she would have stuck around — it just makes sense. And since she hasn’t reached out at all over the last ten years, why would that change just because they’re in the same town for the first time since they broke up. 

And since she hasn’t reached out in ten years, it would just be wrong to try to find her. Right? Plus, it’s not like anyone around here even has to know her. He could ask questions to every Bostonian he sees and learn nothing. It would be wrong. It would be an invasion of privacy. It would be absolutely inappropriate. 

Yet, somehow, the question leaves his lips before he can stop it: “There was a woman here earlier, a blonde. Her name is Emma. Do you happen to have any idea where I can find her?” 

But the owner just shakes his head. “No, I’m afraid not.” 

Killian sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, nodding his head. It was a long shot, a totally impossible shot, and he knew that when he asked, but he still can’t help but feel — 

“Wait, you mean Emma Swan?” Killian vaguely recognizes the girl that asks the question, knows that she has been in the bookstore since he got there earlier that day — an employee, he thinks. 

“Yes!” He is maybe a bit too excited. “Why? Do you know her?” 

A beat passes, the girl on the receiving end of a glance from her boss, and Killian can’t help but notice the slump of her shoulders that follows it. 

“Uh, yeah,” she mumbles, turning her eyes to the floor. “She… comes in here a lot. I sold her your book last night.” 

His earlier thoughts rattle through his head again: an invasion of privacy. Absolutely inappropriate. Of course this girl can’t tell him where he can find Emma, there are laws against that. 

But maybe, just maybe , someone else can. 

  He waits until the next day, knowing that Dave lives a domestic life that includes things like small children and bedtimes , but hopes that the late morning is an appropriate time to call. 

Unsurprisingly, the voice on the other end of the phone is obviously shocked to hear from him. Usually they only talk on holidays, and Dave has always been the one to call, so simply seeing his name pop up on his phone must have been a bit of a shock. “Killian? Hello?” 

Only then does he realize how awkward this is. “Uh, hey, Dave.” 

“Is everything okay? You never call me.” 

“Ask him how his book tour is going!” Mary Margaret calls in the background, her voice growing ever-louder as she approaches him. 

“Yes, of course, everything is — everything is fine. The tour is going fine, thank you. I was, uh, actually hoping you could help me with something?” 

Dave, of course, agrees, so Killian gives him a small rundown of the situation. Book tour, Boston, Emma. 

“She showed up to your reading?” Mary Margaret’s voice in the background sounds just as surprised by this as he was. 

“You can imagine how surprised I was.” 

At this, Dave laughs. 

“So, how can we help you with this?” Mary Margaret asks. 

Killian clears his throat, nervous even for this. “Do you… happen to know where I can find her? She ran out before I was done, but I would really like to… to see her again.” 

“Do you think she would be okay with that?” Dave mumbles, most definitely asking his wife and not him, but he can’t help but answer. 

“She wouldn’t have shown up if she didn’t want to see me, right?” 

“Killian?” Mary Margaret yells, though absolutely unnecessary since he can hear her just fine. 

“Yes, love?” 

“I’m going to text Emma and make sure she’s okay with that, and then I’ll have Dave text you her address, okay?” 

His only option is to agree. He’s thankful even for the opportunity to talk to her again, and for the work the Nolans have to do to help him here, so of course he agrees, passes on a million thanks, and tells them he has an event to get to  — not totally a lie, but that event is only lunch with Robin, nothing too important. 

He doesn’t realize how nervous he is until he finds himself pacing across his hotel room, running his hands through his hair and fixing the collar of his unbuttoned shirt. It only takes a few minutes to hear from him, thankfully gifting him an address and a phone number, but he does not sit still for a moment between hanging up with Dave and receiving the message. 

He barely sits still through lunch with Robin, updating him with the newest part of his adventure, starting with her appearing before him last night and ending with the address from David — which he looked up on the way here, only to learn that it is the apartment above the bookstore from yesterday, most likely the reason the owner was unable to help him find her. 

“Did you text her yet? That’s why Dave sent you her number, right?” 

“And what am I supposed to say? ‘I’ve thought of you every moment since I got on the plane to England ten years ago, and seeing you last night made me realize that I’ve never stopped loving you, even if it doesn’t make sense’ ?” 

Robin barks out a loud laugh, rolling his eyes when Killian groans. "Yes," he chuckles. "Please, say exactly that." 

"Yeah, no." 

"Well, you have to send her something." 

Killian sets his phone down on the table, then runs his fingers through his hair. “I mean, really,” he says, letting out a soft laugh. “I don’t. Maybe we don’t get another chance.” 

“That’s not what you want, though.” It’s not a question, not even a little bit. Robin may be his agent now, but their friendship goes back further than that, all the way back to Oxford. Killian would probably even call Robin his best friend, if anyone ever cared to ask, though they usually didn’t. Most of his communication with others anymore was through book tours and the very sparse date he accepts, though they rarely make it to a second date. He has always known why, in the back of his mind, has known that none of them are her , though he doesn’t think he’s ever gone so far as to admit it out loud. 

But if he did, it would have been to Robin. 

“No,” he breathes, tapping his phone to light up the screen. 

“Then text her.” A beat passes silently, Killian allowing his screen to go dark again. “What’s the worst that can happen, really?” 

“She can do what she did ten years ago and tell me she doesn’t want to be with me.” 

“Alright, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. What if she does do that?”

Killian’s eyes jump to his friend. “Pardon?”

“What if she says that? Then what’s going to happen?” 

“I’ll probably never set foot on this bloody continent again.” 

“Okay. We’ll go back to England. We’ll cancel the rest of your book tour so you can wallow in sadness, is that what you want?” 

Killian sighs. “No,” he mumbles. “That’s not — that’s not what I want.” 

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen if she rejects you again. We don’t have to be in New York for a few days, so we’ll get terribly, raging, mad at the world drunk. Maybe we’ll go dance naked under the moon in Salem, or dive into the Boston Harbor. You will, undoubtedly, do something terribly stupid. Then the next day, we’ll nurse our headaches, eat greasy diner food, and move on , yeah?” 

“I’ve been trying to move on for ten years, Rob. You really think that’s going to happen in one night?” 

“You’ve been convincing yourself for ten years that if you come back to her, show her the person you’ve become, that she’ll take you back. Once she rejects you again, then you won’t be able to convince yourself of that anymore, and you’ll be free. Free to do whatever you want.” 

“Like dance naked with the witches.” 

“Yes.” Robin raises his cup of coffee to his lips, his eyebrows moving in sync. “Exactly like that.” 

  It takes him the rest of their lunch to decide what he was going to send her — because of course he’s going to text her. There’s a reason she showed up at his reading last night, a reason she showed up in his life again, he’s very sure of that. 

That doesn’t mean his hands aren’t shaking as he writes out his message, or that his heart isn’t pounding as his finger hovers over the send button. He reads over it again, taking yet another deep breath as he tries to slow the pounding of his heart: Hello, Emma, it’s Killian. I’m in the states for a book tour, so I reached out to David on a whim, and he told me that you were in Boston. As it turns out, I am also in Boston, though I think you may have known that. I was wondering if you would like to meet while I’m here, maybe go to dinner? 

“Really, that’s what you sent?” Robin asks, incredibly unhelpfully, but Killian’s thumb has already pressed the send button. 

Robin is still holding his phone when it goes off, and Killian convinces himself in that moment that it’s something else, it’s Facebook or email, a new Youtube video or a football update from ESPN — but watching Robin’s eyes go wide, the beginnings of a smile on his lips, ensures him otherwise, even before his phone is back in his hand. 

“Looks like you have a date, mate.”

  The next day . She asks if he wants to meet the next day . Which, yes, of course he does, but he certainly hasn’t prepared himself enough for it. He starts the day with a run, trying to work off some of his energy. 

(It doesn’t work.) 

A hot shower. A few hours of work. Lunch. He even tries to sit down and try to read, but his mind is running too hard, too fast, and he cannot focus on the words. He almost takes another shower, but convinces himself otherwise. They decided to meet at a seafood restaurant by the harbor at 5, so he doesn't let himself start to get ready until 3:30, giving himself enough time to walk the few blocks — but he still finds himself in front of the mirror twenty minutes before he wanted to leave, dressed and ready to go, but far from prepared. He's not sure his heart has slowed from it's pounding since… when did it even start? When he sent Emma the text the night before? When David sent him her number? Maybe even when he looked up from the words he wrote to ease the pain left behind by her to see her standing there, watching him. 

That can't be healthy. 

He gulps down a bottle of water, only realizing how thirsty he is when he pulls it from the fridge, runs his comb through his hair once more. Straightening the collar of his unbuttoned grey dress shirt, he takes one last look in the mirror, checks his pockets for everything he needs, and grabs his jacket before practically running out of his hotel room, not giving himself enough time to overthink the decision again and change his mind again. 

He is, of course, half an hour early to their reservation, having walked a little faster than usual, and the hostess offers him a seat at the bar while he waits for their table to be ready. A drink is the very last thing he needs right now, could possibly make him feel even more jittery, so he orders a higher-end whiskey for something to sip in place of his usual rum on the rocks, knowing he could easily down that in a single gulp. 

As he lets the soft burn of the liquid settle into his stomach, he begins to overthink everything once more, though at least now he can't run away. What if she only agreed to this to be polite? What if she just wants to catch up, or — worse, perhaps, what if she's in a relationship, happy and in love with someone who is not him? 

How is this the first time this has crossed his mind? 

Just as he's spiraling into his thoughts once more, she walks through the doorway and into the bar, a soft pink dress hugging her curves under a bright red leather jacket. Her long hair — longer than she ever kept it when she was young — is pulled into a high ponytail, falling in golden curls past her shoulders. But when she smiles at him, quickly crossing the room to join him at the bar, he forgets all of his worries, every anxiety he's felt since he saw her again melting into the comfortable heat of the restaurant. Because she's here , and she looks like that, more beautiful than any of his memories or daydreams of her have been. She's here, smiling at him, sitting beside him at the bar, and nothing else in the world matters. 

  ——— 

  Taking a deep breath, she sits down beside him at the bar. "It seems I'm not the only one who showed up early," she quips, then orders a glass of sweet red wine. 

He smiles. "I may have been a little nervous." He takes another small sip of his rum, hoping to hide the blush that rises to his cheeks. 

"You aren't the only one," she says with a chuckle of her own. 

"Oddly, that doesn't make me feel any better." 

"What do we have to be nervous about, anyway?" she asks, then takes a big gulp of her wine before smiling at him — neither of which help calm his still-pounding heart. "It's not like this is our first date." 

He leans back on the barstool, covering his face with his free hand. "Oh, god," he groans. "That was certainly terrible, wasn't it?" 

"I don't know that terrible is how I would describe it…" She pauses, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "Anymore, at least." 

"I think it's worse in hindsight for me, love." 

She didn't think she would be this affected by him. Honestly, she didn't know how she was going to feel, coming back to him after all their time apart. Nervous, she expected. Unsure of what to do. But butterflies , at twenty-one, just from being called 'love' ? That was certainly unexpected. 

( No wonder no one has measured up to him in the last ten years , she thinks to herself, trying to cover up her smile with another sip from her wine glass.) 

"I made a right fool of myself that night, and I crashed your car? I thought David was never going to speak to me again." 

She laughs. Out loud. If he couldn't still feel it pounding away in his chest, he would have sworn his heart had fallen to the floor. "Yeah, okay, Dave was beyond pissed. But not as much as when I told him I didn't have insurance for it because I stole it before I left New York City." 

"I've heard recounts of that conversation from both him and you, but I can still only imagine what he's like when he gets that angry." 

"Not to mention Ruth." 

"Oh, Ruth ," Killian breathes, falling back in his seat once more. "It's been a lifetime since I've spoken to that wonderful lady. Do you know how she's doing?" 

Emma's shoulders fall, slouching over the bar. She doesn't look up from her glass as she mumbles, "She passed. It couldn't have been more than a few months after you left for Oxford. Definitely within that first year." 

"Fuck me," he mumbles. "I'm so sorry, Emma. How did she — what did — what happened?" 

"Cancer. It was months between the diagnosis and losing her. It happened so quickly." 

"Why did no one tell me?" he asks, not even thinking about the words. 

But at this, she turns to him, full of rage. "Why did no one tell you? Really? You think any of us wanted to go through that? We had already lost Ruth, and you ran halfway around the world to get away from me." 

No!, he wants to yell, wants to remind her. I wasn't running from any of you! I asked you to come with me! 

But — thankfully — he is able to bite back the words. 

"You're right, love, I'm sorry," he says instead. "I can't imagine what you went through." 

"No," she snaps, her eyes cast down on the bar again. "No, you can't." 

He wants to correct her again. Because he does know. He knows exactly how it feels to lose the only family you have, and unlike Emma, he went through it alone, by himself in England. Does Emma even know that Liam died? Surely someone would have told David. But this isn't the place to bring it up. 

He lets the silence settle between them, taking another sip from his glass. Great job, Jones , the voice in his head scolds him — a voice that has always sounded like Liam. You've already managed to piss her off. 

Thankfully, the hostess walks over to them, a wide smile across her face. "Jones, party of 2? Your table is ready for you." 

"Thank you," Emma says softly, sliding off the barstool, her glass of wine in her hand. 

The hostess holds up a drink tray in one hand. "Please, let me take those for you." 

This time when Emma turns to him, she is obviously impressed, her eyebrows high on her forehead. "Thank you," she says again, setting her glass on the tray as Killian does the same with his. 

She leads them across the restaurant, back through the entrance and up a small set of steps before seating them at a table beside one of the large windows looking out over the harbor — a request made when Killian placed the reservation, suggested by more than a few happy internet reviewers. 

"Quite a place you picked for us here, Swan," Killian says, pulling out her chair for her to sit down. "I take it you've been here before?" 

"Yeah, Walsh brought me here once or twice, but we always just got a table on the first floor, not one with a view like this." 

He swallows, pushing his heart back down his throat as he sits across from her. "Walsh?" 

Her head snaps up, eyes meeting his and full of surprise. "Yeah, he was my…" She pulls her bottom lip up between her teeth. "We were together for a while, but we… broke up. We didn't agree on a few important things." 

"I'm sorry, Swan. When was that?" 

At this, she smiles, letting out a soft laugh as she takes a small sip of her wine. "Just a few days ago. I was on my way home from that when I saw your picture at the bookstore. Mary Margaret would have called it a sign." 

"You wouldn't?" 

“Nope. Just a mere coincidence. Why? Would you call it a sign?” 

“I would be remiss not to.” 

Emma laughs, a breathy thing that catches Killian’s breath in his throat. If he had any doubts about his feelings for her still being true after all this time apart, this moment, a soft chuckle under her breath as she smiles across the table at him, proves that he has truly never stopped loving her, not for a single moment. 

They’re both thankful for the appearance of their waitress at this moment, a redhead with a wide smile named Ariel, who stops Killian from confessing his love and keeps Emma from making a fool of herself by calling Killian dumb. She shares the specials, a pan-seared Ahi tuna and something about steak and lump crab, but though they are both looking right at her, neither of them are really listening. Emma’s been here before and knows their seafood manicotti is the best thing on the menu — the best thing she’s ever eaten, probably — and Killian could care less about specials or even the regular menu items; he’s just happy to be in the presence of Emma Swan once more. 

“Will your checks be together or separate?” she asks, looking back and forth between them. 

Emma glances at Killian, but answers the question anyway: “Separate.” 

“Together,” he says at the same time, then repeats it when he sees Emma staring at him. “It’s been ten years, Emma, the least you can do is let me pay for your dinner.” 

She rolls her eyes, but smiles as she agrees. 

They spend some time catching up, Emma recounting how she left Storybrooke not long after he did, trying her hand in a few cities, becoming a bailbonds-woman. She even includes Neal in her story, glassing over as much as she can. 

But their salads haven’t even arrived yet when she asks the question he’s been dreading the most: “How’s your brother? You haven’t mentioned him yet.” 

His groan has to be louder than he expected. Liam . How does he even tell her? 

“I, uh,” he mutters, coughing as his hand flies to scratch the spot behind his ear that has a penchant for itching when he’s nervous. “There’s no easy way to say this, love, but Liam died almost ten years ago now.” Emma’s hand flies to her mouth, stifling a gasp. “He flew to England with me, stayed for a few weeks with some people he knew, and was on a small flight to meet some of his friends in Germany that failed halfway through and crashed. He didn’t make it.” 

“Oh, Killian,” she whispers, her hand still covering her mouth, but she reaches the other one across the table and places it atop his, squeezing his fingers. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I would have throughout for sure David would have told you,” he says, refusing to meet her eyes, instead watching the slow movement of her thumb on the back of his hand. 

“I must have… I must have left by then, and I didn’t talk to anyone from home for a year or two after that, except Ruby.” 

He nods at this, unsure of how to respond, but the way she referred to Storybrooke as home made something in his blood sing. All he wanted when they were younger was to give Emma a home, somewhere she could be safe and comfortable, something she had stopped searching for before she was adopted by Ruth. ‘Just another stop ,’ she used to call it, not believing she would find anywhere to accept her for more than a few months, since that had been how the rest of her life went. He only wished he could take her back to those days, if only to tell sixteen-year-old Emma that everything was going to turn out okay. 

“So, wait,” she says, breaking the silence but also breaking their physical connection, pulling her hand back to cross her arms on the table in front of her. “How much of your book is real, then?” 

Killian can’t help but laugh. “The loss and heartbreak was real, obviously. I had just moved to England, back for the first time since I was just a boy, but in a different place as lonelier than I had ever been. I was hurt, and I was drunk, and I did meet a group of men in Oxford, wandering down a side-street not far from my flat. But that’s really the end of the fact in the fiction.”

“So they weren’t prolific poets?” she laughs. 

“Poets, sort of. They liked to write drinking songs and liked to read poems and tear them apart, but they were rather terrible at both of those things.” 

Emma laughs again, their conversation momentarily pausing as their waitress drops off their salads. 

Their conversation continues like this, pausing for refills, clearing plates, and — finally — the deliverance of the meal. Emma tries to convince herself that the conversation comes so easily because they have ten years’ of information to work with, but she knows that’s not the truth. There has always been something between them, an easiness unlike anything Emma has experienced with anyone else, and she knows that it’s simply being back with him that makes talking so easy. 

Though it lasts almost two hours, dinner feels like mere moments, and in the blink of an eye, Emma has eaten the last bite of her cheesecake, watched Killian hand his credit card to the waitress, and slid her jacket over her shoulders. A heartbeat more, and they are back in the cool Boston air, the smell of the harbor harsh in comparison to the euphoric smells in the restaurant. Emma pulls her jacket tighter around her. 

“You would think I would be used to the chill by now, especially given that it gets much colder than this,” she says, not sure in which direction to go. “It would help to buy a heavier jacket, but as soon as the snow disappears, I find myself in this one again.” 

“Well, red is certainly your color, Swan,” he says, feeling his face grow to the sameshade as her coat as he realizes this is the first compliment he’s paid her. 

“Thanks,” she laughs. “Maybe one day I’ll even learn that it gets colder once the sun sets, so I shouldn’t always walk everywhere.” 

“You walked here?” he asks, perhaps a bit more excited than necessary. “As did I. And I believe we���re heading in the same direction?” 

The night is quiet, dotted with car horns and engines and the regular hustle-and-bustle in a small city like this — and their conversation continues, Killian sharing more about Nemo and the men he met in England that helped him back on his feet, his schooling, the semester he spent studying in Madrid. Emma listens intently, quipping every few minutes but mostly silent, just as Killian remembers her to be. When asked, she shares more about her time in Boston, her best honeytraps, and she even shares a little more about Walsh when Killian asks, though she brushes any questions about Neal away faster than he can ask. 

Lost in conversation, it takes no time to walk the few blocks between the harbor and Emma’s apartment, and before either of them realize it, they are standing in front of the bookstore, looking at the same picture of Killian that started all of this. 

“Do you… want to come up? Have a cup of tea? I probably have some snacks somewhere,” she asks, the words coming out so fast she almost trips over them. 

Yes , every bone in his body sings, yet somehow, the words that escape his lips are, “I should get back to my hotel, we have to leave in the morning.” 

Her entire countenance falls, her shoulders slumping forward, eyes turning to the ground. “Oh,” she mutters, digging through her purse to find her keys. “I guess this is… goodbye, then?” 

Not this again , he thinks, desperately trying to find a way to fix the mistake he just made. “No,” he says, and her head snaps up, her eyes meeting his. “No, I’m a sodding idiot. Of course I want to come up, because I certainly don’t want this to be goodbye. Not again. I’ll even go out on a limb and bare more of my heart to you, Emma, because today has only confirmed what I’ve been trying to bury down for years. I tried to move on, tried to find a new life in England where I didn’t love you with every fiber of my being, but everything dulls in comparison to you.” 

She doesn’t care that her mouth is hanging open. She doesn’t care that her keys are still somewhere in her purse, that the April air is chilling her to the bone. All she cares about is him , saying the words she’s wanted to hear for years, the words but better , adding a poetry that so perfectly fits the new, updated version of the man she has loved since she was sixteen. 

She fills the space between them, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck while the other fists the collar of his jacket, slamming her lips into his. He is just as she remembered, warm and lovely and wonderful, the closest thing to a home that she has ever found, welcoming her back with his hand on her hip and his tongue quickly gliding along hers. 

Home . 

Her fingers in his hair, his breath on her neck, her name barely a whisper on his lips. 

Home . 

Everything she has ever wanted. Dreamed about. 

Home . 

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