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lstories · 3 years ago

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Noah's perspective: Life Under The Sea

4 story's in the works and 2 more I'm still drafting and I decided I'll make a new story and complete it first. I love mer story's and mer vore story's so I wanted to try one were the mer is the tiny. I Read a story a while back that I heavily baced this one off of but couldn't find it again, if anyone knows it could you tell me so I could link it.

(Safe, soft, vore, willing prey, semi willing pred, cursing, tw blood, tw alcohol, tw panic attacks. Sounds worse than it is)

Word Count: 4,589

"This is going to sting a little"

"GAAH! That was more than a sting and you know it"

"There is only four more shots to go, your doing great"

"ONLY!"

Noah was freaking out, one of his biggest fears was the ocean and he was being sent down to the depths on an exploratory mission to see what was taking out all the drones and to set the first colony underwater. He was a military jet pilot, this was the last thing he should be doing, even for disciplinary actions. They call it a joy ride for a reason and he wasn't the only person involved so why was he the only one being punished this harshly. He looked out the window and saw the waves, no land in sight. Noah felt like he was going to vomit.

"Why do I need shots anyway, I'm going to the depth of the corAL FOREST! GAH! Give me a warning! FUCK THAT HURTS!

"It only hurts beacuse you're tense, just relax"

"Relax! I-I can't just... it's not that simple!"

"Here, just breathe, listen to the waves"

He did as the nurse said, he listened to the waves crash against the ship. Could he feel the ship rocking faster? Were the waves getting louder? A sharp pain in his back brought him back to reality.

"JESUS! That doesn't help at all"

"Just find something that makes you calm cause I'm getting tired of trying to be a good nurse"

"Just tell me about the shots, what are they supposed to do while I'm down there. J- AAHH! FUCK"

"God your a wimp. (sigh) The extreme pressure underneath will be extremely pressing and will collapse your body without proper training. As a pilot your training should help you stay underwater for an extended period of time, even if your outside your suit for whatever reason. There will still be things we or you cant control without these injections though. The extreme pressure will aid in the genesis process we are subjecting you to and will allow you to stay underwater for an extended period of time without injury and could potentially increase life expectancy, muscle and tissue generation, mussels and tissue durability and flexibility, sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell and a decrease in hunger and digestive abilities allowing you to go days with a full stomach from food you ate last week. If you decide to continue past your one year stay the effects would only continue to be enhanced without further genetic engineering. If and most likely when you come back up, you would have muscle and bone density strong enough to move a car and barely break a sweat. Please look over to the cat poster"

"What caAA-... helped a bit, your talking helped a bit"

"You're all set, please leave and put on the wet suit then go to the drop pod."

"Ya, thanks for the-"

"Leave"

"Yep"

Noah walked down the corridors of the ship, passing closed doors and soldiers in military uniforms. Eventually he came by his room and walked in. He didn't have much in his room but then again he was only staying on the ship for one night before he would be sent down into the ocean. He looked out the window and it finally dawned on him that this was the last time he was going to be above water for possibly over a year. His mind started to race as his breath quickened, he wasn't ready for this. He walked further into his room and steadied himself on the table, his breathing started to get shakey as he vividly thought about every tiny thing that could go horribly wrong. The windows in the ship could shatter, or they might land unevenly and get stuck in the drop pod. He glanced to the mini fridge and stumbled over to it, catching himself and forcing himself not to curl up on the ground. He opened the small fridge, he felt the wave of cool air wash over him, he realized how much sweat was pouring off him before he reached into the back, pulling out a beer from a six pack, it was the last one. He idly flicked the cap with the nail of his thumb as sat down on his bed and closed his eyes, he hasn't had a drink in over a decade but the minor actions calmed him anyway. His nail was already going white with scratch marks and the tip of his thumb started bleading as the cap started to tear away at the scab that formed from the past few days of him doing this. He slowly opened his eyes, his hands were shaking and blood was spilling down his wrist and the neck of the bottle. He got up and threw the whole bottle away, he walked into the bathroom and bent over the sink, just trying to hold himself up.

Noah held the hand that was bleading to steady it and washed it off, he fumbled around the cabinet above the sink for something. Noah had no idea what he was looking for, there was this awful noise in his ears and he couldn't focus. He shook his head to clear the voice before auctly paying attention to what he was looking for. He grabbed the gauze and small tube of neosporin and stared applying it to his thumb. After a few seconds of calming himself down he looked in the mirror, right over his shoulder and to the garbage can. They weren't allowing anyone with anything above a 0.0 BAC underwater so that was a good thing, or a horrible thing depending on how you looked at it. Noah wished he could break his promise and grab that beer out of the trash, but he couldn't, he wouldn't break his promise, no matter how much he didn't want to go. Noah sat there for a few minutes, he didn't think, he didn't talk, he just stared at himself. His golden blond hair was a scraggly, matted mess from all his sweat and he was starting to grow a thin stubble of a beard that was just as golden as his hair. Unfortunately for him they didn't allow razors or any sort of non military accepted knife on the ship either. His eyes didn't help his look, a deep and uncanny looking brown was where his iris should be. Not a normal or pretty brown, not even ugly brown but something that looked like every color mixed together improperly somehow. He took one last look over himself before speaking. "What would she think of you now" he shallowly laughed at himself before returning to his bed.

On the pillow was a small case about the size of his palm. He opened it and pulled put a small black roll that he looked over for a few seconds. They said it would be on his bed when he returned but this couldn't be it, could it? He ran his non bleading thumb over it until his nail caught something. He pinched the small little clip and let it unfurl, it just kept rolling and rolling, eventually it split off into three different rolls and the middle one split again into two more. Eventually it stoped, it was deffenetly a suit but it was way to thin, he gently rubbed part of it between his fingers and it gave way much more easily than he thought it would. It started to fill with air and expand horizontally as it stretched to his proportions. It was a thin black suit with orange around the wrists and face. He slipped into it, taking much longer than it should of before he took of. He ran down the hallway, he was deffenetly late as he passed more and more empty room's. He wanted to hide, he wanted to run back to his room and sleep it away but it was either this or he was fired.

He turned a corner and almost ran into the general, immediately turning and running into the small line of people and found a spot. A scientist walked over and handed him a glass plate and some gloves. Noah immediately put the gloves on and held the glass plate under his arm like everyone else. The colonel stated to talk and Noah immediately started to drift off, he didn't care what he was saying and he'd let his subconscious remember everything for him. Somthing about new technologies, making a new world under the old, and unknown life forms. Eventually everyone put on there masks and Noah followed suit, putting it on. The orange--- whatever the suit was made out of extended and gripped the small glass plate and stuck it to his face. After a while and more nonsense talking a few people were taken away by the scientists. After a bit of silence everyone was guided onto the drop pod, luckily it didn't have any windows and Noah felt a bit happier about that.

There was about eight people left overall, some crying, some talking to others and some sleeping like Noah. After a bit (and a quick nap) a bunch of metal clanks were heard above them as everything became a little lighter. It took over four hours to finally hit the bottem, small bumps of flesh on metal and loud echoing scratches were occasionally heard on the way down. Almost everyone was silent for the entire trip, everyone was on high alert the entire way down. When everyone got up and started to bustle around to grab supplies, Noah still sat in some form of shock. He eventually got up, and walked to the wall, a small black pack with his name and the word scavenger printed underneath. "Great, just great" he said as he walked to the pressure chamber and let the water start flowing in around him. His mind immediately betrayed him, his suit could be flawed and he'd drown, his training might not come in handy and he would be crushed, or there could be a monster outside that was already killing the rest of his team. He could feel a dribble of sweat rundown his face as the door opened.

He slightly walked/stumbled outside once the door was open. It was a sight to behold, people were already setting up futuristic buildings with a small handheld printers, others were already picking up scrap metal and other things then scanning them with some type of other small gun and they disappeared into nothingness. Noah took a step forward, he wasn't ready for a small bounce when he set his foot back down. He slightly swayed his arms and swam a bit. He slowly fell back to the ground and laughed a bit, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. He looked over to someone on top of the drop pod attaching lights to the top, as one turned on he saw a group of three people holding futuristic rifles and shoulder mounted plasma cannons. Past them was the coral forest, deep blue coral taller than some trees on the surface were growing strait from the ground and if Noah wasn't mistaken, the glowing rainbow swirling up the coral was algae. He took his focus off them and reached into his pack, it almost seamed like it fused with his suit. He grabbed a small device from the pack and studied it for a while. It looked like half of a gun, something he should combine with something else. Looking back the saw the people talking the scrap also had the same gun, he put two and two together and started looking for something to use it on. Eventually he found a small piece of a ship wreck and scanned it, the light shining over the piece of orange metal was intriguing to Noah and he watched the small piece of metal disappear into a small stream of bubbles. He watched the bubbles rise and rise... and rise. His breath started to quicken as he remembered he was underwater. He fell to a knee and clutched his sides, he could feel his heart beating against his ribs. This was going to be a long year.

Time skip: 1 Month Later

Noah was starting to get used to the ocean. His panic attacks had almost come to a complete halt as he stopped thinking about where he was. If he didn't move his limbs to fast he could almost picture it as a different planet, say for the lack of stars in the pitch black sky. Everyone started to make there own houses and buildings, the infrastructure of a city was already starting to appear. There has only been one known casualty, a man was on a scavenging run and fell into a magma chamber. The suits were designed to be able to take the heat of magma and it did, the suit was undamaged. Unfortunately that guy didn't like to wear gloves and the heat spread threw his hands to the rest of his body like a conductor. The exploration team that went into the corral forest also never came back and were presumed MIA and no more manned explorations were allowed into the forest. Noah was now the only scavenger left as his team all started to do what they were higherd to do, and his team needed supply's. Luckily their radars found an old German U boat that he could scavenge, unluckily it was on the edge of the corral forest and a two day's trip to get there.

Noah set out, his pack still had some rations and regular food after all this time. He didn't think that this food would last him a month let alone a year but he barely had to eat anything. He was running on an empty stomach for the past few days and he wasn't hungry at all. He walked along the edge of the coral forest, the higher ups didn't want anyone going in or over the forest, and Noah didn't want to go threw it either. He had to admit though that it was beautiful, large deep blue trees with a rainbow algae spiraling up the trees and over the branches. He kept walking, a few sharks and other aquatic species that he he didn't recognize tried to bite at him. The suit was a perfect defense against what seemed to be everything in the ocean as nothing could penetrate it. Soon Noah was getting tired, he tried to think of a place to sleep, the algae on the trees was soft and he could pull some sand over him to keep the currents from blowing him away. He walked a little bit further along the edge of the forest while trying to find an overly fluffy tree to sleep on. He's been seeing a commotion every so often in the distance, but he wasn't expecting to have something long and blue to come flying out of the forest and under his arm with a shark following suit.

The shark bit at Noah's arm, the small blue fish pressing itself tighter against his Noah's side. Noah tried to fight off the shark, eventually pushing it away and punching it in the nose. The shark swam off into the black of the ocean, the small blue creature still trembling under his arm. He reached under his arm to shoo away whatever was there, the small creature darted under his other arm. He finally got a look at the size, it had to be at least half his arm span. He raised both of his arms and the small creature darted around his body, eventually curling itself around his neck. For a second Noah thought he was going insane, were those tiny hands on the back of his neck? He tried gently shooing the thing away from his neck, it wasn't pressing down hard enough to choke him but it wasn't something he was too comfortable with having. Eventually it got the memo and started unfurling itself from his neck and gently swam up to his face. It couldn't be, a tiny peron was floating in front of him. Light blue almost glowing hair and a slightly blue tinted body, it looked like it had scales at its waist. He followed it down and saw what looked like an eel tail, slowly retreating from Noah's neck.

The little person approached his face plate and pressed his hands on it, Noah only gave a confused look in response. He had to be dreaming, this couldn't be real, could it? The eel slowly backed away from him and full force rammed the face plate with its shoulder. Noah slightly jumped at what it was doing and gently grabbed the eel. It slightly wriggled in his grasp as before Noah tried to speak to it "what do you think your doing, your going to break your arm" the small eel looked up at him dumbfounded. After a bit of silence the eel finally responded with a few clicks and chirps while rubbing its arm. Noah was confused to say the least, he let the tiny go and held out his palm for it to sit in, instead it wrapped itself around his wrist and squished its hands into the orange fabric next to the gloves. Noah lightly chuckled to himself "all right, you can sleep there for the night" he walked over to the nearest tree and laid down on it. He silently scooped some sand onto himself with his free hand, the tiny looked up at him confused. Noah gently ran a finger down the tinyes back "your freezing" he whispered as he held the tiny eel person to stomach. After a bit the Noah started to drift off, the eel was not having that, it got up and started pulling on Noah's finger.

Noah opened his eyes back up to see the tiny struggling with all it's might to bring Noah somewhere. Noah reluctantly got up and followed the tiny, the glowing hair keeping it in sight at all times. It darted around the darkness of the ocean and back to Noah to make sure he was following. Noah kept at a steady pace to keep up with the tiny. He almost wanted to lay on the ground and sleep there. Eventually they reached a cliff face, the tiny followed along the edge of the wall. Noah looked back, the forest wasn't very far away and he never knew this cliff face was here. The small eel zig zaged across the bottem of the cliff face, Noah kept up with the tiny, confused and tired the entire time. Soon the glowing hair disappeared under the ground, Noah freaked out and ran over to where the tiny disappeared and bent down ready to start digging at the ground. He reached his hands down too fast and his whole body fallowed into a hole. It didn't take him long for his back to hit the side of a slope and for him to see a bit of orange light illuminating a tunnel in front of him. The tiny eel swam up to him and pressed itself against his faceplate, Noah immediately grabbed the tiny by its waist. It pushed against his fingers and chirped at him angrily but he wasn't going to let it go, not if it was going to scare him like that again. He shuffled forward threw the tunnel, he had to hunch his back to get threw it.

Soon the tunnel opened up into a cave, it went down a bit but it was almost a perfect sphere. There were small metal bolts and bottle caps on the walls and other miscellaneous items strewn about. He finally let the tiny go and it shoved itself threw a long PVC pipe with an angel connector at the top. A bit of its tail was hanging out the bottom as it rested its head on its arms. There was a slight suction near his foot and a light feeling of flowing water over his back. Noah looked up to see the source of the light, there was a hole with an edge to the water above him. He stood up and looked around for a bit, the cave extended out even further, it was huge. He lifted his arms out of the water and pulled himself up out of the hole with more ease than he should have been able to. The top of the ceiling had a glowing orange moss and neer the hole he came out of was a small water fall that had some warm water flowing into the small underwater cave. The walls had a green moss that was fluffy to the touch and the ground was smoothed over and barely damp. A small splash and some angry chirping grabbed his attention. The tiny was trying to reach for his heel and chirping the entire time. Noah reached his hand into the water, slightly swishing his fingers next to the tiny. The tiny immediately coiled itself around his wrist and rested it's back on his palm.

Noah scooted over over to one of the walls, he saw the tiny breathing, its chest was moving quickly as it just stared up at him. Noah took his mask off and took in a deep breath, before pulling the small hood off his head. It almost smelled like mint in the cave, what was this stuff. The tiny on his hand started chirping instantly, Noah looked down as it made grabby hands at his face. Noah brought the tiny closer to his face and it immediately pressed its hands into his cheeks. It ran it's hands over his lips before trying to part them. Noah took the tiny away from his mouth once it put a hand on his teeth, it looked confused before it started chirping again. It looked sad that it wasn't able to look into Noah's mouth. He moved it back into the water, it tried climbing back up his arm before slipping. Noah immediately reached under the tiny to catch it. The tiny layed down for a few seconds before scrambling over and hugging Noah's thumb. Noah brought it higher into the air, the tinyes tail was dangling from between his pointer and middle finger. It looked down at the ground a little frightened before looking back up to Noah with the same waiting look.

Noah slowly dipped the eel part back into the water, the tiny quickly wrapped itself around his fingers in response. Noah held it back in the air, he was staring to get tired of its antics. He staired at the tiny in his hands with a disappointed look on his face, as he got a better look at the small person he realized it looked younger than he'd orginally thought, almost like a young teenager. Looking closer at its facial structure he could almost be certain it was male. As he looked over it, he saw it's small eyes were almost as blue as its hair and he realized it was crying. Why would it be crying, he hadn't hurt it had he? Noah looked it over, there were no bruises or scratches he could see so why was it crying. It started making the grabby hands back at Noah's face, he reluctantly brought it closer to his eyes. It started him in the eyes for a few seconds before it scooted closer to the edge of his hand. It tried reaching for his lips again, Noah thought about it. It really wanted to be eaten, the doctor said that it takes longer to digest food so maybe it would be safe. Noah's eyes were getting heavy, he needed to sleep. As he thought harder on it he realized it was either this or probably more angry chirping for the rest of the night. He saw the tears on the tiny practically disappear when he brought it closer to his mouth.

He thought he could hear a choked sob when he opened his mouth, the tiny practically jumped for it. He extended his tounge over his teath so it wouldn't get hurt. Tiny hands tried to grip the edges of his toung and pull it forward. Noah thought it almost tasted like berries, sure there was the salt of the ocean but he didn't expect to taste berries. The tiny tried to force itself down his throat, Noah almost gagged at the feeling and slightly dragged the tiny back over his tounge. The tiny started to tremble in his hands and on his tongue, the salty flavor was getting more prevalent. The tiny wrapped its arms around his tounge, quite chirping came from it. He could tell it was starting to cry again, this is what it really wanted wasn't it. He pressed the tiny up against the roof of his mouth and slightly tasted it, he hadn't had anything sweet in a month and this was probably going to be the best he would get for a while. The tiny dragged itself forward a bit more. Noah could feel the movement in his hands as the eel tail moved, he wasn't too excited about that part. The tiny moved closer to the back of this throat, Noah wanted to get that last bit of the sweet flavor before he gulped it down. The tiny was too far back in Noah's throat now, he instinctively swallowed when it pressed a hand into the back of his neck.

The berry taste was gone, it was just the salty sea water, luckily it didn't taste like fish. He lightly pressed a finger to his neck, the small wriggling bump slowly glided down his neck and past his collarbone. He gulped again and again before lifting the edge of the tail to his eye level. The torso entered his stomach and it almost immediately started rubbing at his stomach walls. It felt nicer than he thought it would, was his stomach always this sensitive? More of the eel part slipped into his stomach and the tip of the tail entered his mouth. He gently scooped it up with his tongue before closing his mouth. He swallowed one last time and tilted his head back to let gravity do the rest of his work. He rested his head back into the moss and his hands protectively over his gut. He could still fell the cold of the tail slowly moving along the rest of his throat. His stomach was comfortably cold and he gently rubbed his hands over it. He looked down and- jeez his stomach was huge. Noah didn't know his stomach could fit this much of anything. It started to move as rubbed a little harder, the small coils pressing every nerve in his stomach as it slid around. Noah made a small groan, it didn't feel bad but he just wasn't ready for this much of stimulation. He could feel the tinyes form gently press itself into his hand and rub back. He could hear a few gentle clicks as he rested his head back into the moss and closed his eyes. The amount off stimulation in his stomach along with the feeling of being over full quickly drifted him back to drowsiness. One final thought left his mind as he fell asleep 'mabye it wouldn't be so bad to stay more than a year'.

#safe vore #soft vore #protective vore #extreme cuddling #willing vore #willing prey #semi willing pred #mer vore #mer prey #tw blood #tw panic attack #tw alcohol

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salmonskinrolltf · 4 years ago

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Jack’s New Roommate - Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

It wasn’t long before Jack found another bone to pick with Ken. The dude was a little anal retentive, but I didn’t mind as long as he kept the wishes flowing. He was pouring himself a glass of water at the dorm’s absurdly tiny kitchenette when he noticed some scraggly hairs caught in the drain. Evidently, Ken chose to shave in the dorm sink instead of the bathroom, which really frustrated Jack. He popped off a wish so fast, I almost didn’t have time to rearrange it. “I wish Ken wouldn’t leave hairs in the drain.” I was caught off guard, but I’m good at thinking on my feet. “I wish Ken DIDN’T SHAVE, WHICH wouldn’t leave hairs in the drain. I snapped my fingers. His wish is my command after all. Mostly.

The hairs in the drain vanished. Satisfied, Jack returned to studying at his desk, but I kept my eye on Ken. This one was going to be a little bit of a slow burn. As the newly muscular man twiddled the buttons on his game while doing calf raises by his bed, he reached up to scratch his jaw. His once patchy stubble started to expand, growing fuller as bristly whiskers emerged around his mouth, neck, and cheeks. He now had dark, full stubble peppering his face, which slowly began to sprout a full beard. Dark black hairs curled out from under his nose, forming a moustache that wiggled as his mouth twitched in concentration. The hand that was scratching his face began combing its fingers through his beard, almost seeming to pull the hairs further as they grew several inches in length. Apparently his face wasn’t the only thing he needed to shave, because a light dusting of dark hair sprouted in the valley between his pecs, visible when he scratched inside his collar, leaning back on the couch to answer a text. Coarse black hair also sprouted on his toes as they flexed.

Jack turned around to grab another textbook and caught a glimpse of Ken’s newly bearded form. A look of shock came over his face. Shit. I changed too much too fast. I had to be more careful next time. Luckily, my magic kicked in and Jack just shrugged. But he still seemed to have a bit of a bee in his bonnet about the whole thing, because he said: “I wish Ken wasn’t as hairy.” I had to think carefully about this. I didn’t want to alert Jack to the fact that I was altering his wishes, but there was no way I was gonna change Ken back now that I was on a roll. I decided that, to make things seem less weird, I had to change Jack’s benchmark on hairiness. “I wish Ken wasn’t as hairy AS I AM.” Instantly, Jack relaxed. Ken’s appearance didn’t seem weird to him anymore, though that’s only because he now wasn’t the hairiest person in the room. Jack squirmed in his seat and tugged at his collar as itching erupted all over his body. Silently, I willed him to remove his shirt so I could watch the changes progress. A faint coating of stubble dotted his lip, spreading around his mouth in a goatee fashion, then moving up his cheeks and into his sideburns. Luminous blonde hairs sprouted from each follicle, blossoming into a full, luscious beard. As he scratched his cheeks, blonde hairs began to bristle out from under his arms, creating massive tufts of tangled, coarse hair. Flecks of gold erupted from his chest, curling to form a pelt that stretched from nipple to nipple, up to the base of his neck, and down across his cobblestone abs, tapering into a thick treasure trail leading down to a thatch of pubic hair that poked up from the waistband of his jeans.

He scratched his legs as hair spread down his thighs and taut calves, concluding with a dusting of hairs across the tops of his feet. His itching subsided and he returned to his studying. I clapped my hands giddily. This was getting interesting!

The afternoon passed uneventfully, except for the occasional scratching of Jack’s newly anointed beard, but the next wish came soon enough. Jack’s stomach rumbled, and as he headed to the microwave with his packaged dinner, he tripped over a pile of junk spilling form Ken’s open closet door. Not that it had any other option. There was such a heap of dirty clothes and forgotten textbooks that it wasn’t possible to close the door anyway. With a sigh, Jack muttered: “I wish Ken would clean out the closet.” This one was a cinch. After resetting the bar of normalcy, the time was ripe for my second major change. “I wish Ken would clean AND COME out OF the closet.” I snapped my fingers and Ken sprang to his feet. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let me take care of that right away.” As Ken started to clear away the pile of rubbish, Jack nodded approvingly and grabbed his dinner from the microwave. Ken cleaned up the closet in record time while Jack ate, compulsively moving on to dusting the shelves, wiping down the mini-fridge, and even (finally) making his bed. When his side of the room was spotless, he turned to Jack and cleared his throat. “Jack? I have something I need to tell you.” Jack turned around, clearly surprised that this roommate was actually talking to him. “Yeah, what is it?” Ken twiddled at his beard nervously.

“I… I’m gay. I have been for my whole life, and I just thought you should know.” Jack’s eyes almost bulged out of his head. “O… K… Well, this is definitely surprising. I was under the impression hat you were a real pussy hound once you… started working out. Um… Just as long as you keep your hands and eyes off me, we’re good.” Jack nervously pulled his shirt back on, side-eyeing his roommate. He clearly wasn’t comfortable having a gay man in his bedroom. Little did he know, that was about to change.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

#Plus Three #Genie #TF Story #Straight to Gay #Hairy #Beard #Blonde #Roommate #College

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crownedbyluke · 4 years ago

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Long Road Ahead (Chapter 16)

Estelle Finley has been friends with Ashton Irwin and Luke Hemmings for three years. When the boys bring her along on a jam-packed road trip to Cape Cod with the rest of the band, their adventures are just beginning. Through long hours driving, exploring cities, and hidden secrets, something more is bound to happen on this journey. How will this road trip change Estelle’s friendship with the friends she’s come to love so dearly?

Word Count: 2,527

{Chapter One} {Chapter Two} {Chapter Three} {Chapter Four}{Chapter Five} {Chapter Six} {Chapter Seven} {Chapter Eight} {Chapter Nine} {Chapter Ten} {Chapter Eleven} {Chapter Twelve} {Chapter Thirteen} {Chapter Fourteen} {Chapter Fifteen}

“Dad?” I asked, utterly shocked at the mess that was unfolding before my very eyes.

“What? No acknowledging me?” the familiar voice asked.

I looked just slightly to the left of my father, the familiar face of my brother Wesley came into view. He clearly hadn’t shaved in at least a month with his scraggly half shadow of a beard. It had been at least two years since I had seen him and now, seeing him again, made me want to scream.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Ashton had his hand on the small of my back, trying his best to comfort me. It felt like everyone in the house was watching me, like I was living my life out on a television screen.

“You remember your betrothed,” my dad said, gesturing to the man standing behind Wes.

My heart stopped. A commitment that I had never agreed to and yet, here was my father bringing it back to haunt me. Aiden Harper. He had certainly gotten taller since we were in middle school. The likelihood of him being less of a giant idiot though was probably very small.

“Aiden,” I whispered, still in shock.

“Who the hell is he Estelle?” Luke asked, voice full of anger.

I met his eyes, finding the storm of hurt and rage swirling in them. It took everything in my body to not just run over to him. There were more eyes on us than I wanted for a conversation like that.

“Oh, I suspect she didn’t inform you. This is the man she is intended to marry in two years time,” my dad said.

Luke clenched his fist. I felt the anger radiating off of him from the stairs. Before anyone got into a fight, I stepped down from the stairs and stood between the two.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Well darling daughter, you seem to think that I can’t stop you from seeing this man child over there, so I’ve come to prove you wrong,” he said with a smile.

It was the same smile I had seen my entire life. One of manipulation and dishonesty.

“How?” I continued.

“You see, your friends here, well, they sometimes do great work at covering up their partying or their general misuse of their fame, but myself and my contacts are more clever than their publicist. I have a multitude of photos and videos of them misbehaving that would surely ruin any chance they had at making another album,” he said, the smile widening.

“You’re lying,” Ashton said from behind me.

“Oh son, you wish I was don’t you? Doubt you’d like that threesome video from your Vegas trip a year ago to get out,” my dad said, gritting his teeth.

I felt the whole room tense. This was serious and it was happening right in front of my face. There were stories of how my dad would manipulate people into what he wanted, but I had never seen it happen. Some of them felt more fabricated than reality would allow. Yet, it was reality and he was doing everything he could to stop me.

“What do you want?” I asked, biting back tears.

It was no longer a question of what I had to do. I’d do it to protect them. Ashton reached for me again, but I moved away. It was my battle now.

“You’ll be coming home with me right now. You can move into your new house in August and you’ll stay in your tiny little apartment until then. You will no longer speak to these children or be seen with them in the media. Oh and you’ll be seen with Aiden getting engaged next week,” he said.

My eyes went wide. Engaged? It meant giving away my entire life to a person who would most likely cheat on me the first chance he got.

“Elle, you don’t-”

“Fine. If I do this, you leave them alone?” I asked, cutting off Calum.

“Yes.”

“You will never threaten them or harm them?” I pressed.

“I promise,” my dad said.

“Fine. I’ll get my stuff,” I said, turning around and marching up the stairs.

The tears fell down my face as I reached the landing. I was defeated, hurt, and exhausted. All I cared about was protecting them from him. There were footsteps following after me as I opened the door to my room.

“Don’t do this,” Luke said, a waiver in his voice.

I looked up, seeing the tears in his own eyes that matched mine.

“If I don’t, you lose your dream,” I said, grabbing the clothes from the closet.

“We can fight this, make it through this,” he argued.

“No we can’t Luke! If he has that kind of stuff on Ashton, what do you think he has on you or Cal? I won’t let you guys be collateral damage!” I said.

“Little dove-”

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

I stopped, balling my fists into the pair of shorts in my hands. That nickname meant so much to me. Luke called me it for the first time after he heard me sing and then he kept using it whenever he was saying something nice or being sweet. It was just our thing. He wrapped his arms around me, taking the shorts out of my hands. His short breaths gave away the fact that he was crying too. We were so close to that happiness I wanted and it was all going away.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

He pulled away, pressing his lips against mine shortly before resting his forehead on mine.

“Don’t walk out the door,” he begged.

“I have to or else everything you worked so hard for gets ripped from you by that man and I won’t be able to live with myself if that happens,” I said.

My hands rested on his cheeks, gently running my finger against the stubble growing. This was it. My lips touched his one last time before I went back to grabbing my things.

“Bugs, you don’t have to do this on your own,” Ashton said from the doorway.

“Yes I do. You’ll do amazing on the next album,” I said, wiping at my tears.

“What am I gonna do without you?” he whimpered.

“I don’t know, but you’ll figure it out.”

He hugged me tightly, putting every last ounce of love into it.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, holding on so I didn’t have to let go.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

After my things were tucked into the suitcase, I gave my last round of hugs. The sound of us all walking down the stairs felt wrong. Everything was wrong. I stopped just short of the door, turning and meeting everyone’s watery eyes.

“I am so incredibly sorry for this,” I said, the weight of the apology heavy on my heart.

“Save it dear. They can watch the wedding online,” my dad said, pulling on my arm to get me moving.

“Don’t touch her!” Luke yelled.

Everyone stopped again. Things felt like they were going in slow motion.

“You might be her father, but you will never be her dad. No dad would put his children through this,” he said, voice laced with venom.

My father smiled at him, letting my arm go. Wesley took my suitcase and nudged Aiden to lead me out of the house. Luke stood there, waiting, but all my father did was smile. Aiden closed the car door after I got in, making me watch Luke stand there as we drove away. Every piece of my heart shattered as I watched him fall to his knees in tears. Timing was a bitch.

TWO MONTHS LATER

LUKE’S POV

“Luke! Come on dude!” Calum yelled from outside my room.

I had yet to leave my bed and it was already 5 PM. He came by every day to check on me and almost every day, he found me still in bed.

“Go away!” I yelled back.

Getting out of bed never felt right or even remotely okay. Since Estelle left, nothing felt right anymore. Everyday was just a different way of going through the motions, barely existing.

“You gotta get out of bed today,” Calum said, bursting through the door.

“Why? We don’t have anything to do,” I said, tucking my face into my pillows.

“Maybe, but you haven’t left the house in two months and it’s time you did,” he said, opening the curtains.

The bright sunshine of L.A. hurt my eyes. Petunia licked my face as she saw the sun. The look Calum gave me felt like one from my mom when I was younger.

“If I get up, will you leave me alone for the rest of the week?” I asked, slowly sitting up.

“Sure,” he said.

I knew he was lying from the smile on his face. My feet dragged as I went to the bathroom. Another routine of washing my face, brushing my teeth, and brushing my hair gone. When I came back out, Calum was holding up new clothes.

“Why?”

“We are going out so put on something that isn’t sweatpants,” he said.

I groaned, taking the jeans and button up from him.

“You realize I’m not bringing anyone home right?”

“Yes Luke. Just shut up and get dressed.”

Legs went through the jeans and arms went through the shirt. It was a facade as to the pain that I felt every single day I woke up and remembered I couldn’t be with my person. Calum messed with my hair and patted my back, ushering me out of the house.

“Be a good girl piggy!” I yelled before Calum closed the door.

My phone dinged.

Mentioned: @Luke5SOS when is there gonna be new music?

The muscles in my face relaxed. No tweets from her...again.

ESTELLE’S POV

The setting sun was blinding through the windows of the cafe. Everyone was going about their evenings, enjoying their coffees or teas. A familiar face tucked underneath a hoodie and a baseball hat walked in, the sun behind him making him glow like an angel.

“One black coffee please,” he said softly.

Stress from the week of teaching melted away as I listened to him. My iced vanilla latte swirled as I stirred it carefully. The chair squeaked against the tile as he sat down. I met the hazel eyes staring at me.

“Hey bugs,” he whispered, taking a sip of coffee.

“Hi there stranger,” I said, a smile slowly coming out.

“How’s life?” he asked.

“Shitty. I miss you guys,” I said.

Our hands touched, the slightest bit of relief washed over me. It felt nice to be able to see him again. The weeks we weren’t able to do this seemed to drag on longer than most. It wasn’t easy to forget about the friends I was no longer allowed to see. The moments I had made me feel more guilty than anything else. He turned his palm over, gently squeezing my hand.

“We miss you too, bugs,” he said.

I wanted so badly to ask about Luke, but knew it would hurt more than I was prepared for. Ashton squeezed again.

“He’s doing his best,” he said.

Tears welled up in my eyes. If Luke was okay then surely, I should be too.

“How are the kids?” he continued, pulling away.

“Good. They’re still excited about school and spritely,” I said with a shrug.

“And you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Holding up. I have to be seen with Aiden once a week so I keep my distance as long as possible until our scheduled outings. He goes around sleeping with women in the off time and pretends to be the perfect fiancé in the meantime. Guess that’s life now.”

“I wish it wasn’t that way,” he said, slightly angry.

“Ash, you know I don’t have that much of a choice,” I argued.

“I know, but I hate it. I hate that you can’t come over or see us or come to shows. I hate that we have to tell everyone that we aren’t friends anymore. You’re my best friend and I have to hide you.”

“I should go,” I whispered, suddenly no longer feeling up for talking.

“Bugs, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, I should go. I’ve got grading and lesson plans,” I said, cutting him off.

Without looking, I walked out of the cafe. The pain took over once I closed my car door as it always did after seeing Ashton. The relics of the past hurt more and more and when I attempted to go back to normal or confront them, I ended up crying in my car. The amount of times I had driven past Luke’s place just to see if a light was on was ridiculous at this point. My phone screen lit up with a text, my background of me and Luke bringing on more tears.

Aida: Miss you. Drinks on Friday?

I ignored it, opting for driving home instead. The drive went by like it always did. My house was empty and lonely. Another thing that was meant to be something else. The exhaustion of the day wore on me as I collapsed into the couch cushions, sleep slowly taking over.

The pounding on my front door woke me from the nap I was taking. I groggily got up from the couch and made my way to it, peeking through the window.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” I asked, finding a very drunk Luke and Calum.

“Estelle!” Luke cheered, a giant smile on his face.

“Again, what are you doing here?” I repeated.

“I might have given your address to the Uber driver on accident,” Calum admitted.

“Get in here,” I groaned.

They shuffled inside behind me. I checked the door to see if any of the press had followed them. Calum fell onto the couch, giggling as he did so. Luke kept staring at me.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he mumbled.

“Shush,” I said, helping him into the guest bedroom.

He giggled as I tucked him in. I put a glass of water on the side table for him in case he woke up. As I went to turn off the light, he grabbed my hand.

“I missed you little dove,” he whispered.

His eyes were sincere and it broke every piece of my heart. Luke fell asleep shortly after speaking, his face becoming relaxed and serene. It reminded me of the first time he ever stayed the night at my place. He had slept so soundly that night that he was asleep until one in the afternoon. My heart ached as I looked at him.

“He still loves you Elle,” Calum said from the doorway.

I walked towards the door, shutting off the light as I exited and closing the door behind me.

“I love him too. Now please go rest in the upstairs guest room,” I said with a sigh.

Calum stumbled his way up the stairs before closing the door. My head fell into my hands, frustration building. The morning couldn’t come fast enough.

A.N: It’s been ages and I feel horrible for leaving this on such a cliffhanger for so long, but I want to finish this story. It’s almost done. It’s mainly all written and it’s time Estelle and Luke get their story told. So here we go.

tag loves: @tommossoccer @bbycal @cakesunflower

#d writes #my writing #5sos #5sos fic #5sos fan fic #5sos au #5sos fluff #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings angst #ashton irwin #michael clifford #calum hood #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer fluff #5 seconds of summer angst

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fanfic-inator795 · 5 years ago

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RotTMNT/Baron Jitsu fanfiction: Dating… With Children - BONUS DRABBLE #5

(Also available to read on AO3)

Just something quick and silly based on something my dad used to do to me and my brother, lol. Enjoy!

Also, do you ever wonder what Lou would look like with the beard he grew once he became a rat? Because I do, all the time.

Dad-Dad-Dad-Dad-Dad-Dad-Dad-DAD!”

Lou smirked, setting his cup of tea down the moment he heard the boy’s excited voice. “Hello to you too, Donnie.” He caught his purple son with ease as Donnie all but launched himself at his father. Leo came in right behind him, slow enough to allow his twin to have his well-deserved spotlight but still smiling just as much.

Draxum was also smiling at the sight. “Well now, someone’s happy.” Despite remembering Donnie’s plan very well, he feigned ignorance. “I wonder what brought on such a good mood. What do you think, Lou?”

“No idea,” Lou shrugged, playing along, “Why don’t you tell us, Donnie? Why are you-?”

“My show and tell went GREAT!” Donnie yelled, still grinning ear-to-ear, “Everyone loved Shelldon an’ told me how cool he was! Everyone clapped, and all my new codes worked perfectly, and Mr. Suranio gave me a gold star! It was the best show and tell presentation EVER!” Noticing his dad and Draxum’s amused expression, Donnie cleared his throat and calmed himself down a bit. “So yeah, that’s why I’m so happy.”

“Aaaaand also ‘cause he’s the smartest kid in our class,” Leo commented, his tone genuine. He occasionally heard other kids in their second grade class complain about Donnie being a nerd and wondering when he’d take his annoying big brain to college already, but usually a glare from him or Raph or a calling out from April would shut them up. There was no denying that Donnie was a nerd and a smartie, but Leo didn’t mind. (Besides, he knew he was still the coolest kid in class.)

“Well, I for one am very happy for you, my son, and very VERY proud,” Lou said, pulling Donnie close. The purple-dressed boy happily accepted the hug. …Though only for a moment. Because only a second or two later, Donnie’s smile became a scowl, and he pushed his father away, hopping off his lap. “Huh?” Lou raised an eyebrow. He knew Donnie wasn’t always up for hugs, sometimes just feeling too sensitive for them and wanting his space, but he had seemed like he had been enjoying it a moment ago-

Figuring that he couldn’t just leave his father in the dark, Donnie said bluntly, “Your face ruined the hug.” Draxum nearly choked on his badly timed sip of tea while Lou just blinked, too confused to be offended.

“He means your face hair,” Leo flatly added, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Donnie nodded, still pouting slightly at his ruined hug.

At that, Lou got a bolt of realization. “Ohhh, you mean my stubble?” he asked, stroking his chin a bit.

“Yeah, that stuff! Like, geez Pop, it’s like trying to hug an itchy cactus or something!”

“Oh really now…?” Leo stiffened slightly, recognizing the mischievous glint in his father’s eyes. He tried to escape, but the Great Lou Jitsu was just too quick for him!

In one swift motion, Leo was picked up and hugged, with Lou’s seemingly-spiky cheeks rubbing right up against his face. “NOOOOO!” he yelled, squirming as he tried to push his father and his annoying, itchy stubble away. Lou could only laugh, letting the boy go after a couple seconds. “Gah, you’re so weird!”

“Oh, let your father have a bit of fun,” Lou said, still chuckling to himself. Leo just stuck his tongue out at him before running out to the TV room to join his other brothers, with Donnie right behind him.

Draxum shook his head slightly at his prankster of a boyfriend. Lou might have been in his 40s, but he still acted like a big kid sometimes. Still, at the very least, it was endearing. “Guess you’ll have to shave again soon, lest you ‘ruin’ any more hugs.”

“Eh, we’ll see.” Lou stroked his chin again. “I really do want to try and grow a beard…”

Draxum raised an eyebrow at this. He had noticed Lou’s stubble as well, but didn’t think it was a big enough deal to bring up, it most likely being caused by a lack of time to shave in the mornings or a broken and not yet replaced razor. “Seriously?”

“Yeah! Why not?” Lou shrugged, “I’ve always sort of wondered what I would look like with one.” He wasn’t too bothered by the prospect of aging, having simply put himself in the category of ‘distinguished’ actors once he found his first grey hair rather than freaking out about it. So, if a beard made him look older, so be it. He was curious, and shaving everyday was a pain anyway. “Don’t you think I’d look good with one?”

Draxum hummed, leaning forward a bit as he took a good, long look at his boyfriend’s face. “…I can’t see it,” he finally answered after several seconds of suspense.

Lou huffed, waving him off. “Maybe you can’t see it now, but trust me. When it grows out, it is going to look good.”

“If you say so,” Draxum conceded, giving neither approval or disapproval, “Though I doubt the boys are going to agree.”

“They can disagree if they want, but this-” Lou pointed at his chin- “is still happening.” With that, the subject was changed and subsequently dropped.

For the next week and a half, it seemed like Lou was sticking to his goal, his stubble getting longer each time Draxum visited - though he did try to at least try and keep his eventual beard from getting too scraggly, shaping it slightly and keeping it clean.

One Monday night, Draxum managed to make it over for supper after work kept him away for the whole weekend. He knocked on the door, just as he normally did… and a clean-shaven Lou opened the door. “Oh,” he said, slightly surprised, “Changed your mind on the beard?”

“No…” Lou mumbled, pouting as his eyes squinted in a scowl, “Those little punks of mine staged a ‘hug protest’.”

Draxum brought his hand to his mouth, trying and failing to hide his snickers. “I’m sorry, a hug protest?”

“Yeah! They told me they were doing it Friday night - no more hugs from me until I shaved.” At first, Lou had sort of smirked, accepting their ‘protest’ though not expecting it to last long. This expectation changed however after he had tried to tuck them in that night. Every single one of his son’s refused a good night hug, and then would overdramatically whine about how they had just gotten the ‘worst sleep ever’ the next morning, all because they hadn’t gotten their good night hug.

When the same thing happened the next night and day, Lou simply bit the bullet and shaved out of a mix of guilt and annoyance. At the very least, his boys all gave him a group hug the moment he stepped out of the master bathroom. “It was just too much of a hassle at that point to keep it,” Lou said, concluding the explanation with a bit of a sigh, “When they are all in their teenage rebellion ‘too cool for hugs from our dad’ phase, THAT is when I will grow my beard.”

Despite still being way too amused with the whole thing, Draxum just sympathetically patted his boyfriend’s shoulder, silently wishing him the best of luck with his goal. With it still being a while until supper and the boys upstairs playing, the two settled down on the couch, half-watching local afternoon talk shows as they talked about their day.

Lou snuggled up to Draxum’s side as his boyfriend wrapped an arm around him. With his smile softening a bit, Draxum kissed his cheek.

He would never try to control how Lou decided to look - boyfriend or no, that was Lou’s business, not his. Still, Draxun had to agree with the boys: he definitely preferred cuddling up next to a shaved Lou.

((I had been thinking about writing something based on ‘Jupiter Jim Ahoy!’ but uh… yeah the implications would’ve been wayyyyyyyyy too dark even if I was never planning on actually writing anything bad. So, silly drabble it is.

As for the next big chapter, it’s finally time to write two of the things I had been thinking about the most when I first started this fic: Christmas at the Jitsus, and TANG SHEN! Yep, Draxum finally gets to meet Shen and you’ll see the boys interacting with their auntie ^v^

So yeah, expect that probably sometime in December. …Also, with the finale three days away at the time of me writing this, just wanna say: If Draxum dies for real at the end of S1, thaaat’s probably gonna kill my inspiration to write anything after the Christmas chapter. So, yeah, just a heads up. Anyway, see ya’ll in December, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!))

#rottmnt #baron jitsu #lou jitsu #baron draxum #human au #my writing #fanfiction

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randomoranges · 5 years ago

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another one from the vault!

Perfect Cities Beard

1983

Étienne snuggled closer to Edward, rubbing his face in the crook of his neck. Edward recoiled slightly, when he felt Étienne’s stubble tickle his skin, more due to being surprised by it than repulse. Étienne frowned and pulled Edward closer to him.

“Stop, you’re scratchy,” He said between two laughs.

“What do you mean I’m scratchy?” Étienne had the decency to look vexed and it made Edward laugh again.

“Here,” Edward placed both his hands on Étienne’s face and rubbed them against his skin, “You’re scratchy.”

Étienne turned his face away and then passed a hand over his own cheeks to see for himself, inspecting the damage. He grimaced at what he found and Edward shook his head, amused.

“Gross. I need to shave,” Étienne bemoaned, flopping onto his back. Edward peered down at him and poked his cheek, grinning.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with facial hair – other than during the playoffs.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“I’m guessing by your reaction you’re not fond of facial hair?” He teased, rubbing his hand over Étienne’s cheek once more. His friend tried to squirm away, but Edward found that he liked the feel under the palm of his hand. It was – different.

“Ugh, no. Like – you do what you wanna do, but personally? I can’t stand it. It’s itchy and scraggly, makes me look unkempt and unprofessional. I don’t know why they decided to have this “wonderful” tradition during the playoffs, but, let me tell you – nothing feels better than shaving off that ugly thing from my face the moment they win or get eliminated.”

Edward fell beside his friend, laughing, clutching at his stomach. He had never known this about Étienne and he found this tidbit of information both fascinating and charming.

“So, what if I decided I wanted to grow my beard in permanently?” He tried to keep a straight face about it but failed, stifling a giggle or two instead.

Étienne rolled his eyes and punched him in the arm lightly, even if his cheeks coloured a little, “I don’t see why you would want to hide that perfectly good face behind all that unruly hair – but, it’s your face.”

Edward wheezed, “But would you still kiss me if I had a beard?” He tried again to sound serious and sincere, but the wide grin on his face gave him away.

“Kissed you last year, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but that was during the playoffs. What if I decided to let the beard grow out forever?”

Étienne gave him a pointed look, his cheeks taking on an even more pronounced shade of pink that Edward thought was absolutely lovely. Étienne stuck out his tongue for good measure and tried to look mortified, “Please try to at least... groom it?”

“What? Afraid of the big wild beard?”

“Yes? That... mass of unkempt hair! I can’t! Appearances tell so much about a person! A clean shaven-clean cut look is the best way to let others know that you mean business and that you’re here to be taken seriously!” He remembered when beards and moustaches had been all in fashion, how much he had hated them then as well. How food could get stuck in the hair. The way it felt on his skin. He hated it. Had refused to let the hair grow on his face no matter what. And – okay, it did look nice on some men, and well, sometimes it did have Some Advantages – but, personally? For him? It was a hard pass.

“Oh my God,” Edward breathed hard, whipping a tear from his eyes, “I can’t breathe.”

“What’s so funny?” Étienne pouted.

“You,” Edward laughed, pulling Étienne to him, before he kissed him.

Étienne sighed against his lips and tangled his fingers into Edward’s hair, “Hmm, no – wait here. Just, give me a few minutes,” He disentangled himself from the bed sheets and Edward, before padding towards the washroom. Edward watched the retreating figure of Étienne and took a moment to enjoy the view. He laughed when he heard the sink start running and was still chuckling when Étienne returned, sometime later, freshly shaven.

“Feel better?” He asked, letting Étienne slide back into bed and snuggle up against him.

“Yes, much, now, where were we?...” He grinned as Edward ran his hands along his now smooth cheeks. Étienne let out a content sigh and pressed his face further against his palms.

“Well,” Edward started, pretending to be affronted, “You were kissing me, but then you just upped and left, leaving me here all alone – very rude, I might add,” He said, mock-hurt, playing it up for Étienne’s benefit.

“You’re right, that was very rude of me. Lemme fix that and make it up to you,” He murmured, claiming Edward’s lips with his own, as he gently pushed Edward back down on the bed and straddled his waist.

FIN 47

Started writing: May 2nd 2017, 9h30am

Finished writing: May 2nd 2017, 2h21pm

Started typing: May 16th 2020, 12h52pm

Finished typing: May 16th 2020, 1h53pm

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #Edward Murphy #étienne maisonneuve #fic #projocanondoko #perfect cities

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imaginepirates · 5 years ago

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The Estuary

Singapore

Singapore.

It stank, grime covered every conceivable surface, and people either didn't know English or pretended not to speak it. James didn't know exactly how he convinced Beckett to send him there in the first place, but the deed was done. He just needed to find Elizabeth, to make sure she was safe.

Never had he witnessed such awful living. People lived in mud, and they drank out of polluted rivers. It made James sick to his stomach. He didn't like to think of the diseases being spread about. Officers had already fallen ill.

Patrols were mind-numbingly dull. James likely hadn't been so bored before in his life. The apprehension, too, was killing him. He wanted to find Elizabeth, to follow her, and to fix things.

There was more, too. It was rumored that a famous pirate made his home in the city, but British Intelligence couldn't quite find him. Every lead they had ended with nothing. Not the slightest hint.

James was suspicious. Elizabeth wasn't in Singapore for no reason. She was there for something, and James had a sinking feeling it had to do with the pirate.

What do you get yourself into? I hardly know you anymore. It wasn't so long ago that we danced together in ballrooms, albeit stiffly. What are you up to now?

A stubble was growing along his jaw. He shaved it, and was surprised that his hands still knew the movements. Some things we never forget. He washed his face in a washbasin, and for a moment, he was reminded of the estuary.

He'd wandered back along the river, feet squelching in the mossy banks. He'd stumbled upon a time just after his promotion to Admiral. What an awful thing that had been. What an awful person I've been.

The waters had converged over his head, and once again, he lived. He hadn't expected so many chances. How many people are reliving their lives right now, just as I am? He didn't like that thought. The people he loved could have been dead without his knowledge, trying to fix their mistakes like he was now.

The washbasin empty, James stared at his reflection in the mirror. Who am I? He felt… fake. Being alive again felt like cheating, in a way.

"Admiral!" A voice called out to him from the hall. He was staying in a sparsely furnished fort, and Lieutenant Groves was staying in the room across from him. It was that same man who called out to him.

He cracked his door open. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"We need you to lead another patrol. I'm told it's important. We've found something to do with the pirate, sir, I'm sure of it."

How many times have you said that this week? "One can only hope." He might have added 'piracy is unforgivable and we should hope to see it eradicated', but he didn't buy his old beliefs anymore.

British Intelligence had employed a number of natives to help them locate suspicious people. The method had seen some success, but perhaps not as much as anticipated.

Another prominent member was Beckett's hound, Mercer. When James had first seen him, he'd been scared that Mercer would kill him again. He couldn't forget the cold metal sinking into his abdomen.

James' patrol was to be guided by a local. A dragon tattoo ran down his back, covering a large stretch of skin. He was sweaty and nervous looking, which didn't reassure James in the slightest. Then again, he thought, who isn't?

Bridges creaked underfoot. The water below was sludge, and the air was filled with smog. Buildings looked unstable, sound was warped, and people skittered out of the way of the patrol. Singapore felt infected. Diseased. James almost wished he hadn't come.

The establishment was some sort of bathhouse. The lieutenant James had with him, who was not Groves, scoffed.

"Pirates wouldn't hide in a bathhouse. This is a place for girls, for heaven's sake."

Exactly why they would be here. James had the feeling his partner wasn't exactly the cultured type. "A bathhouse isn't just for women, lieutenant. The women here will be workers, not customers."

For being fairly young, James had worked in quite a few different places. A few months along the Ivory Coast, over a year in India, and his time in the Caribbean had given him a broader worldview. I need to remember that not all men have seen such places. This is likely the lieutenant's first time outside of England.

The boy leading the group hardly spoke English. He motioned for the officers to stay in place. James was opposed to it, but let the boy do as he would.

He came back a quarter of an hour later. "Bad man here. I go back in."

What about 'we're going to blast this place to smithereens' do you not understand? "Don't go back in," said James. He was too late. The boy had slipped away again.

The navy got straight to the point. There was no backstabbing, no careful plotting or elaborate assassinations. In the navy, your job was to utterly destroy things. It got things done much quicker.

When they did blow the doors off the building, they were met with a room of fully armed people. James internally cursed. There was no trusting the natives, even if Intelligence employed them. Then, he noticed there was a sword at the boy's throat. So he didn't tip them off. How kind. I wonder who did.

There was a moment's silence. The bathhouse held a strange mix of people, and James could have sworn he recognized some of them.

Someone stood in what appeared to be a large bucket of water. He was attached to a pole. James hadn't the time to wonder why before he realised who it was.

William Turner, what are you doing here?

A shock of blonde hair next to Will caught his attention. Damn.

~~~~~

He practically had to drag Elizabeth out of the fray. She scrabbled against him, but to no avail. He had her outside the building and away from danger before she could find a way to escape.

"What are you doing?" She hissed. He had let her go, and she stepped back from him, tearing herself away.

"Getting you out of danger."

"I can handle myself. I don't need your help." She spat the words at him like poison, and like poison, he absorbed them.

I know that. I've seen the things you can do. I think, at this point, you're more capable than I am. "I won't keep you after the fight is over."

"Why do you think you have the right?"

He swallowed. "Because I care about you."

She only stared at him, eyes still narrow, but she didn't leave. Her posture looked a touch more relaxed. James was relieved; he wasn't sure how much berating he could take. Her tongue-lashing on the Dutchman had been enough for multiple lifetimes.

"Your father will be happy to know that you're alive."

"Don't think you can take me back."

"I don't." His answer was quick- too quick. He leaned closer to her. "I'm not here to tame you, Elizabeth. I'm here to help you."

"Attacking me with a group of soldiers is hardly helping me."

"I didn't know you were there. If I had…"

An explosive noise sounded nearby. Instinctively, James put an arm around Elizabeth, who promptly shoved it away.

"You can't keep me here like a child." She pushed past him.

He caught her arm. "Then let me come with you." Please, he added silently.

He didn't know what he was stopping her from doing. Obviously, she had survived the first time.

The fighting was everywhere, and the navy seemed to be losing. So, pirates do team up.

Rounding a corner, they nearly ran headlong into an old man with a scraggly beard.

"Where's Will?" It was the first thing out of her mouth.

If only she'd ever thought of me like that.

"Still inside."

James trailed Elizabeth back into the bathhouse. Most of it was destroyed. Of the people left, there were merely bodies. The battle had moved on.

"Will?" Elizabeth stepped over fallen beams, head turning for any sign of him.

James spotted him before she did. He was right where they had left him, trapped under pieces of the caved-in roof. Oh dear god. Please, for her sake… Will was gone. James had seen enough dead men to know. He had been dead.

When Elizabeth found him, James felt his heart breaking. A feeling that, by now, I should really be used to. She shook Will's body, trying to rouse him. He didn't deserve this.

"James?" She turned to him, face streaked with tears.

I'm sorry. He knelt beside her, cradling her against his chest. And, to his utter ruin, she stayed there.

They didn't rise for what felt like an eternity. They still hadn't. Elizabeth was crying into his chest, arms hanging limply at her sides. James held her tightly, like it was the end of the world. And it was, he supposed, because it was the end of her world, and that broke his heart.

There are moments when words are a failure. When the entirety of human speech, which is so effective and renowned, is absolutely useless.

It should have been me. It was me. Twice.

Her sobs had subsided. She lay helplessly in his arms. He didn't dare pull away, afraid of the emptiness that was sure to be on her face.

If this is what my survival looks like, I do not want it. I would gladly die for her again.

Please, he thought. His eyes were blurred with tears, still, because he was unwilling to let them fall. He was failing. This is torture. Let me start again. Please, do not make me continue on in this hell. I cannot live with her suffering.

End me.

•@bonjour-frens @tesserphantom @ilikebritsandbands

#james norrington #commodore norrington #norrington #potc #pirates of the caribbean #the estuary #estuary #drabble #writing #fanfic

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sugar-petals · 6 years ago

Text

BTS: You Shave Them

A/N: Not just, um, in the facial area. Well, well. Warning for a bit of smut. This has a lot of crack, too. Oh, Beardtan. I had tremendous fun writing this.

Jimin

Hides his stubble with big scarves as we all know

Because vice versa

Jimin loves to show off his neck i.e. almost snap it at every occasion

Since he knows his Adam’s apple is freaking hot

Erogenous zone much? You take advantage of that shaving him in the mornings

Probably gets a hard-on if you do the same with his legs, too

Well

Dancer instincts

Whiny when he doesn’t like how his pits look like

Pink (!) depilatory cream is your favorite to use for that

He likes how it tingles

Taehyung

For some reason likes to be horizontal while you do it

Likely because of what follows soon after

Can complain about razor burn a lot

So you slather him in anything you can find

Smells fucking good afterwards

Does all sorts of weird experiments

Like growing his beard until he can braid it... until you demand the big chop

He lets his hair grow simultaneously which looks great

Jack “V” Sparrow huh

Lotta leg hair that you enjoy to epilate

Big fan of super loud buzzing electric razors

Jin

Keeps it classy you think

Kim Seokjin, sophisticated member of the Holy Beardism religion

Hahaha

Nope

Darling, he’s notorious

Can end up drowning in shaving cream at 7 am because you mess around with him

Yeah cream is key

Could rock a Mortdecai moustache but that one sadly gets in the way

If you know what I mean

Doesn’t care what you do with your hair as long as his looks groomed and sparkly

Can grow a lot of hair actually which invites you to do a couple experiments

But then again — It’s Kim Softjin not Kim Roughjin alrighty

Yoongi

Gets a thrill when you whip out the straight razor

And stretch the skin on that pretty neck

Definitely turned on by having his chest and pubes trimmed as well

But also by how you always compliment him on his three day beard

Cuz that one looks good on him as well for sure, like a Count

Transsylvanian vibes huh

Or D’Artagnan

But because it’s too scraggly for kissing

And going down on you which is a daily activity as you might have guessed

That stuff comes off fast, very fast

Landing strip addict

Hoseok

Loves to be silky-smooth, has no problem with you doing it every now and then

You can groom his chest and pits, too

Few ingrown hairs really

Throws a little tantrum at the tiniest cuts but shrugs off larger mishaps

Would use dye on his pit hair 10/10

Or the little strands on his toes

He doesn’t care

Green, yellow, blue, purple

Imagine, him in those Balenciaga sandals and...

Okay this goes too far

The fact is: Hoseok is one colorful dork

Namjoon

It’s not rocket science to know what his shaving habits are

Obviously... Always had problems doing it himself

Too hasty, too absent-minded

When you look after that the results are a lot better anyways

And his eyebrows remain where they are

Appreciates the love and care that comes with it

Sometimes you use a razor to groom his undercut, too

Because that hairstyle is just made for him

Way too insecure about his beard even if it looks like Chris Hemsworth’s

Picture that

Likes smooth legs, too! You use a lot of time & cream to do that

He’ll show it off at the beach and in #KimDaily

Jungkook

Deadass agrees to using wax right away

Sexy

What doesn’t he do for pain

“My jagi likes to rip out hairs from my asshole”

Said no guy ever.

Except this masochist right here

You’re laughing but he thinks it’s the most normal thing in the world

Loves to be hairless head to toe so you can use baby oil on him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And he can touch his muscles everywhere

Especially in the shower

Where most of the shaving action takes place... and not only that

#beardtan #bts headcanons #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts reaction #bts crack #sub!bts #shaving bts

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supernaturallyfantastically · 7 years ago

Text

Crush

This is my first posted fan fiction so please be gentle with me. This took a lot to do with my anxiety, pure panic attack mode right now.

Request: could you do anything you want with Murr from impractical jokers? 😂 xx

Pairing: Murr x reader

Content: fluff, humor

Warnings: one swear I think

Count: no clue, did it on my phone

There is something to be said about a city such as New York. So many different people going about their different lives with their different goals. Celebrities and average people coexisting and having a mutual understanding to just ignore each other and leave each other be. Yet still be helpful when they see a young woman crying on the street, or an old man taking a while to cross the road due to the deterioration of his cartilage. You had lived in New York your whole life and loved every minute of it. Granted you had moved from your original burrow a while ago and long since settled in Manhattan. Proudly you were originally from Staton Island and would tell anyone who asked. That's where you were born, had your first best friend, your first crush, kiss, and even first pregnancy scare. Your best friend had remained the same after ten years and constant contact. Her name was Jenna and she was six years older than you. That didn't matter much because you were pretty mature for your age and she helped you through a lot of things you couldn't talk to your mother about. She ended up being like a big sister to you and had been ever since. You would spend the night over at her house as often as possible and ended up getting to know her older brother and his three insanely goofy friends. Sometimes they would take you guys along on their adventures, getting into trouble and giving you amazing memories. Her brothers name was Sal and his friends were Joe, Q, and Murr. Come to think of it almost all of your firsts were with the boys and Jenna. Sadly as all good things come to and end your dad had gotten a job and your parents divorced. The courts decided your dad was better suited to be a parent since your mom had increasingly worrying mental problems. Just a couple days after your fourteenth birthday you were moved. It had been hard but you managed to get Jenna to stay with you for a week once a year until you hit twenty. She started dealing with her career and supposedly Sal had a tv show but you'd never seen it. As the years went on you had done really well in school and gotten a bachelors in nursing. You had a wonderful job in the emergency department at one of the Presbyterian hospitals in Manhattan, an apartment that you owned and even a German Shepherd whom you adored. Sometimes you still thought about the old days and wondered what happened to the boys though.

The night shift at the hospital just ended and of course you had gotten off late. Your scrubs were a deep charcoal color and your badge was still clipped the the front of your uniform. You had your phone in your pocket and headphones connected to your ears, completely emerging yourself in the music. The backpack you wore hung low on your back ending just above your rear, almost like a protective shield from people running into you. Your long hair, currently an unnatural color, had been pulled up into a high and tight ponytail with your bangs hanging down and some flyaway from work. At the moment you had just turned down the street with a coffee in hand heading home to catch some well deserved rest. You cut through a small park and took a second to enjoy all the different people living their lives. A woman was walking by carrying her heels obviously deep into her walk of shame, a man was reading the paper with an old looking dog laying in the sun. As you were looking around you noticed a tall man with gelled hair and a scraggly looking beard walk up to the woman carrying her heels. He smiled at her and without even a hello, he said the most random thing.

“Tell Santiago I'll pay him"

The woman looked confused and tried to walk away but he kept talking to her, not getting the hint that she just wanted to sleep one off. As you watched the exchange the gears in your head started turning incredibly slow. You've seen that man before, but where? Slowly you reached up and pulled your headphones out and almost like you were on auto pilot you walked towards the man and stopped right behind him. He turned around and looked at you with a weird look on his face and you two simply stared at each other for a moment. Five seconds later the gears in your head created enough energy for the lightbulb to turn on and the face you made must have made you look completely insane.

"Salvatore Vulcano" you spoke like a mother that had just caught her son peeing in the sink

"Um...yeah?" He raised his eyebrow at you

"Y/N Y/LN!!" You practically shouted and pointed to your badge

"Holy shit! Guys is Y/N!" He said while staring at you.

It was your turn to look at him strange. Just as you were about to excuse yourself a group of three grown men came charging out of nowhere towards you. In a split second you saw your life flash before your eyes and imagined how stupid your obituary was going to sound when mentioning the cause of death. However much to your delight, the group of middle aged men wrapped you up in the most amazing group hug you've ever had in your life. When they let go you looked at them all and it finally registered that it was the boys. Sure they had grown, lost some hair, and all had facial stubble but it was them none the less. However one of them in particular stood out to you in a way that was more than just reminiscent joy from your childhood. Murr stood back slightly and had the biggest most idiotic grin you've ever seen on a human being. He was bald with just a faint outline of where his hair once stood and was built with lean muscle. He had on a pair of nicely fitted jeans and a comfortable band tee, he looked almost like your teenage crush again. All of the guys, Murr included, started talking at once. They all pretty much shouted over each other about how you guys should go out and catch up, at some point they passed your phone around and put their numbers in it and even handed you theirs to do the same. Within moments they were being called back by a man wearing a black jacket and a drink holder full of coffees. You watched for a moment as they walked towards him. Murr turned his head to look back at you and for the briefest of moments you made eye contact with him. It was only a second but it seemed to last minutes. Definitely still had that school girl crush on the goofball.

With your surge of energy you pretty much speed walked to your apartment. As soon as you closed the door behind you a stupidly happy pup galloped towards you. He jumped up on you making sure to give you ridiculous amounts of kisses and to bark to show his excitement. You laughed and told him you missed him too before heading towards your bedroom. Keeping with your daily tradition you shed your clothes every step of the way until you were just in a pair of cotton panties and climbed into the bed. You leaned over to plug your phone in to charge when you noticed a text. It was from Murr of all people, and this made your stomach feel funny.

You smiled at how sweet it was that he wanted to spend some time with you. He used to ignore you as a kid most of the time. You haven’t gotten much taller since the last time they’ve seen you, barely 5’2. However you will admit with a slight air of pride that puberty did good things to you. Curves in all the right places, not a huge chest but noticeable, and for some reason your ass looks like you’ve been doing squats every day for three years. Just like every woman though you were self conscious. Jesus it’s been over two years since your last relationship and even then you wouldn’t take your shirt off. With that thought you set your phone down and snuggled into your down covered bed. It’d been a long day.

—————

It had been a couple weeks since you reunited with the boys. The five of you went out for dinner a couple of times but you haven’t done anything one on one with any of them. Although the looks Murr was giving you did not go unnoticed. When you would laugh at the stories they told he would stare at you with the wonder of a child, like he’s never seen something like it before. It confused you on different levels, but it also warmed your heart. Yep, definitely more than a crush.

You were walking home from work when your phone went off. It was Murr and just seeing his name made your stomach get that feeling again. You opened the message and a broad smile crossed your lips.

With a giggle you texted him back and arranged where to meet. This time when you walked home you had a bounce in your step and felt as light as a feather. When you got home and laid down you called your trusty pup to lay with you. For what felt like an eternity you talked to him about James. About how he had confidence, dressed well, sense of humor to boot. The only reason you stopped talking was because you had drifted off to sleep.

You looked yourself over in the mirror. You had on a nice fitting pair of jeans (miss me’s of course), an off the shoulder mint green long sleeved blouse and a charcoal gray tank top underneath. For shoes you had on a simple pair of black Chuck Taylor’s. Your make up was simple and light and your hair was slightly wavy and had some wonderful volume going on. With a smile you decided you looked decent and grabbed your purse and tugged it across your chest. A quick kiss goodbye for your pup and you were out the door. It was 8:25 and the bar wasn’t too far so you ended up beating Murr there. When you did get there you promptly grabbed a table and ordered two shots of whiskey, two beers and a double Long Island. You sat up at the table and fiddled with your hair making sure you looked good without trying. The nervousness started to set in when the waitress set down the drinks and you were left with a large amount of alcohol and no one sitting with you. You arranged the table over and over and drank about two log islands in the course of fifteen minutes. You looked at your phone and frowned. He was late, no call, no text. Was he standing you up? Maybe he got hurt? Just as you were starting to think that this was a bad idea, the door swung open and your jaw hit the floor. Murr was standing there dressed nicely, however, on top of his balding head was a wig of thick black and gray hair. He strutted up to you and plopped down with a grin.

“Hey sorry I’m a little late, filming ran longer than expected. Did you get these drinks for me?”

You just stared at his head like you didn’t trust the thing that rested there

“Yeah. James? What the fuck is on your head?” You asked rather to the point

“Punishment” he said with a grin and a slight twitch. He still had that cute little nervous tick.

“You guys are so weird” You shook your head and held up one of the shot glasses for a toast

“To punishments” you said and he laughed and clanked his glass with yours.

The evening went rather well considering his twitching and constant readjustments to his wig. The two of you talked about what had happened in life since you were fourteen. He told you about his book, and the show of course, Tara, and his family. You told him about nursing and your apartment, kind of lame in comparison in your opinion, yet he listened intently like it was the most interesting thing. Without even realizing it the two of you had stayed until the bar closed, ever the gentlemen Murr covered the tab you’d opened. When you two walked outside he was telling you about the time they had shaved his head and eyebrows.

“The only reason I did it was because you can’t refuse a punishment. This is Q’s hair” he pointed to his head and you giggled. He was talking a mile a minute and his neck kept twitching.

“James?” You called innocently. He looked down at you and you leaned up and kissed his lips softly, innocently. When you pulled back and looked up at him he looked shocked.

“W-what was that f-for?” His face was very red.

“I needed to shut you up” You grinned and his face mimicked yours. A second later he had his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flat against him.

“It’ll take more than one little kiss to do that” his grinned changed from playful to sinister as he moved a hand to the back of your neck and kissed you deeply, his wig hair tickling your cheeks. This man is definitely more than just the class clown you remembered him as.

#impractical jokers #james murray #Murr x reader #fluff #fan fiction

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shooter-nobunagun · 7 years ago

Text

Love Me Tonight [II]

//Eventual mature content; none yet this chapter.

This story attempts to bridge the time gap between chapter 38 and 39, in regards to Adam and Sio’s relationship.

“Ah...Sio-chan, shouldn’t you get some rest now? I know the doctors said you’re fine and all, but...”

“Nuh uh! We’re finally reunited after all this time, and after all, th-that...” The girl’s voice trembled, but she resolutely shook her head. “No...I’m not going to let our time together go to waste, Asao-san.”

Despite her own morales, the bedridden girl couldn’t help but smile. “Sio-chan...you really are a good person, you know? I’m glad we met...”

“M, Me too, Asao...” Sniffling, Sio tried her best to not just burst into tears all over again. To say that today had been a trying day would be a disservice to all the holders and members of DOGOO who’d rallied to help her out. From Galileo, who’d bravely accompanied her and told her how there was a chance Asao was alive, to their pilot Derrin Tanaka, who maneuvered them through the surprise EIO attack and then lead the evacuation of the refugees in San Francisco...

And all the holders who showed up just as things were getting dire, with just her and Jack—no, Adam. Somehow, though not understanding it herself, Sio had been able to reach him; to communicate to him that she needed him and she needed him now. Whether it had all been in her head or if she actually did send a part of her soul into his mental space... It was mostly a blur in her mind even as she tried her hardest to recall how exactly she’d even managed it: a swirl of intense emotions, determination, and their inexplicable bond that had formed before she was even aware of it.

‘Was that...because of my e-gene? Even though Oda Nobunaga’s power is much less than it used to be...’

Unconsciously her hand moved over her heart, the scars still visible. How ironic that she was now sitting and chatting with the one person who had caused this whole SNAFU, however unintentional it might have been. ‘Because I thought Asao was dead, because I couldn’t accept that, and I pushed everyone away, I...I...’

“Sio-chan? Are you all right?” Her head jerked up at the sound of Asao’s voice. “I really appreciate you staying up with me, and believe me, I...want to spend as much time together as we can too. But it won’t be good if you push yourself too hard and collapse from exhaustion.” Asao gave her a stern look, even though she was the one who was suffering from a now-terminal case of radiation poisoning.

An unfortunate side effect, from the government’s ill-fated attempt to use nuclear bombs to destroy the EIOs before San Francisco could be fully evacuated. If only Sio had invited Asao to come with them back to the Yavin, or tell her to get out of there before it was too late...but what had happened, happened. There was no use in thinking about all the could’ves, should’ves, would’ves—what mattered was the now, and at the very least, Sio was grateful they could at least spend what little time remained together.

“Well, if you say so, Asao...I guess I could use a shower,” she tried to give a smile, but the tremor in her lips did not escape her friend. “Oh Asao...I’m so sorry...!” She buried her head on the sheets and sobbed, even as Asao gently combed her hair. “If only I’d paid more attention...! If only I could have saved you sooner...!”

“Sio-chan...!” Sighing, the girl could only try and soothe her friend with gentle pats. “You did save me, Sio. If you and Jack and everybody else hadn’t shown up when they did...now that I think about it, this is the third time you’ve saved me, isn’t it? First it was Taiwan, then at the hospital in Japan, and now in San Francisco...”

“B-But, you, you’re....!” Sio shook her head violently, unable to voice out the inevitable even though she knew her friend was doomed to an untimely death.

“I know, Sio. And...I’m not going to pretend that I’m not scared, or sad,” a tear ran down Asao’s face, but her voice remained steady. “But to be honest, I didn’t even think I was going to make it this far; everyone at the camp said I’d been exposed for too long without proper protection, and especially with all those monsters roaming about, I honestly half-expected to not even make it out at all. So to be able to be here, now, in this nice bed and seeing you and my family and friends...that’s more than I could ask for, and I’m truly grateful. So please, Sio...don’t blame yourself anymore, okay?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Sio forced herself to nod, to calm down somewhat even though everything was still a maelstrom inside. No, Asao was right; even if their reunion was to be short-lived, at least they did meet again, and at least Asao could spend her remaining days being surrounded by loved ones in a comfortable environment, instead of a cold, dingy refugee camp.

“Yeah...yeah, you’re right, Asao-san. I-I’m...I should let you get some rest, too. And I’ll go take that shower now, I guess...”

Her friend smiled. “That a girl, Sio. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Oh, although if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favor...Jack-san, when you see him, please tell him thank you for me, too. Not just for helping me...but for helping you, too.”

Sio was a bit puzzled by Asao’s last sentence, but nodded in promise anyway. Speaking of which...

‘Adam...we need to talk, don’t we...’ As if finding Asao hadn’t been enough of a hurdle, there was the other person whom she needed to fix things with. She’d been shocked he’d actually shown up: wings, knife and all, neither of them wearing their proper gear but none of that mattered when it was do-or-die. The flood of emotions she’d felt—gratitude, joy, hope, and love... Love. She gulped nervously as her body flushed; for some reason thinking about it now made her feel oddly nervous...and not in a good way. The battle didn’t leave much time for chit-chat, except for his signature quip about how he was saving her butt once more, and how they should go home afterwards, together. ‘Yeah, and the first thing that popped out of my mouth was how he grew a beard,’ Sio griped to herself, suddenly feeling embarrassed at making such a trite comment in a serious moment. ‘God, Sio...why are you always saying things like this...’

Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him since the battle ended. As soon as it was clear, she’d run up to Asao and flung her arms around the girl’s thin shoulders, crying and laughing all the while. As she replayed that scene in her mind however, her stomach started knotting itself as she remembered Adam opening his mouth, as if he was about to tell her something, but she’d simply pushed past him without a response or even a glance.

A wave of fear washed over her and she had to pause for a second. ‘Oh man, oh man...! I really messed up back there, didn’t I?’ Trying not to hyperventilate, she convinced herself he understood; that he knew Asao was important to her and she didn’t mean to push him away like that, because they could always talk later, he was always going to be around while Asao very well might no longer be—

“Gyaa!” Sio nearly crashed to the floor as she bumped into another body right outside the showers. “Ow, sorry...I-I didn’t mean to...A, Adam...?”

She stared, he stared. Though his hair was now clean and damp from the shower, she couldn’t help but notice his scraggly beard remained.

“You...didn’t shave?” Once again, her mouth moved before her brain—but she could tell Adam was slightly amused, by the way his eyes crinkled up ever so slightly.

“Hmm...thought about it, but I figured ‘s not worth the effort right now,” he shrugged slightly, running a finger over the stubble. “Though, I have to say I never expected you ‘f all folks to make such a fuss over it...does it really bother you that much?”

“Ch, chigau! It’s not that! I-I was, just...well, it’s just you look so...different,” she mumbled, suddenly feeling very shy and embarrassed. Why did she always say childish, spur-of-the-moment things in the middle of a serious discussion? No wonder Adam still treated her like a brat at times; she might as well still be one.

His eyes took on a somber mood and Sio felt her heart drop. “Really. How so.” To her great surprise he lowered himself down to her level, Sio wanting to but unable to avert from his sorrowful gaze.

“I-I, u-uh...” She gulped in nervousness but steeled herself to not shy away. “I-I mean, it’s not...bad or anything...b, but just...you look so much older...it, somehow...makes you look really sad...”

She hadn’t even gotten the last word out before something wet slipped from her eyes, Sio gasping in surprise. When did she start crying...or rather, why was she even crying in the first place?

There was a deep sigh, and she felt herself trembling even more. “‘Sad’, ‘ey...well, guess same could be said for you, squirt.” A hand gently ruffled her long white locks, but the tears did not stop. “You were so despondent for so long...and then all that shit happened...it made me real sad, too.”

“I-I’m sorry...I’m sorry—!” And she burst into tears, sobbing violently and heaving as Adam held her tightly, Sio finally letting out all the tears she’d held back, back from even before she found Asao again. “I-I-I, I didn’t, m-m-mean to, to...” She tried to get her words out, to tell him she was sorry for pushing him away when he’d only been trying to help and she didn’t mean to put him through all that, but the only thing she could choke out were half-hearted wails, barely able to catch her breath.

Adam said nothing, only patted her on the back and slowly rocked her as Sio cried and cried, until he felt surely his heart would break, as well. To see her in such despair...a pain ached in his chest, but he fought it back down. Sio needed him right now; whatever qualms he had about her behavior once again were pushed to the back of his mind. Even though he knew Gandhi was right, that she needed to know how he truly felt...something always held him back.

“Hey...there there, it’s all right now, ye? Shh...” Gradually her sobs were reduced to a whimper, interrupted by the occasional hiccup. “Look, Sio...listen, there’s...something I want to tell you. Well actually, make that a load of things,” he muttered, wiping up the last of her tears with his shirt. “I know it’s a lot to be asking you, ‘specially now, but...I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

“M-Mmnn...I, I...understand. I’m...I’ll be okay, Adam...” One last, shuddering sigh and Sio straightened herself, determined to do more than just cry all day. “I, wanted to talk to you too, s-so...let’s, talk now.”

Adam nodded, and the two headed for her quarters in silence. ------ It felt like nothing had changed, yet everything had. Their appearances, mood, least of all this strange, unspeakable ‘thing’ that was now hanging in the air. Sio stood awkwardly against the wall, while Adam slouched opposite of her. Neither focused on each other, but rather on the monotonous, trivial details that usually went unseen: how the curtains were still closed since the last time she’d been in here, the desk that held a scattering of survivor’s lists and the bed unmade, even after all this time. Both of them knew it had to be done, yet neither could be the one to start the conversation.

“...So, how’s Asao doing? She seems all right, last I heard anyway.” For reasons unknown to himself, Adam heard his voice query about her friend—though in his mind, he couldn’t help but view the girl with a sort of feared jealousy.

“Ah, Asao-san...w, well, she’s...okay now, but...” Sio suddenly stiffened and Adam felt a tremor of fear working its way through his body, as well. “...Her condition is...pretty bad...”

“...I’m sorry.” Adam whispered. Though Sio hadn’t said anything more, her furrowed brows and inability to look at him confirmed what Nightingale already suspected: terminal radiation poisoning. Normally he would be offering some comforting words, even if it was just fluff, but right now his heart was pounding away in an unsettling a mix of relief and guilt.

Asao won’t be around for much longer. You won’t have to worry about competing for Sio’s feelings. The second the thought rose in his mind he felt ill to his stomach; that he could be so petty and insecure as to look forward to someone’s death, nevermind her being Sio’s best friend and the fact deep down, Adam harbored no ill-will towards Kaoru Asao. Perhaps Sio really did deserve Asao after all, a person who could be so selfless and pure and loving to wish nothing but the best for her true love, even in the throes of death—

“—Adam? Adam, are you okay?” Adam flinched at her sudden touch and Sio recoiled in surprise. “You, you don’t look so good...do you feel okay? You’re not feeling...ill, are you?” Her maroons were wide with concern, the girl no doubt immediately fearing the worst.

“No, I’m...I’m fine. Just...sorry, it’s just...” There were so many reasons as to why things were so strained and awkward between them: how he’d nearly killed her in the previous mission, his inability to do anything but mope about while she bravely set out on her own, whether or not she truly loved him in the same way he did. “I’m sorry...I’m just not used to...feeling you again.”

He hadn’t meant anything more, only that the last time he’d held her it was to shove a blade through her heart—so being here right now and feeling her soft fingertips against his flesh, while soothing, also sent chills down his spine. Unconsciously the left arm shook, Adam quietly restraining it as Sio looked on in growing horror. “Don’t worry about it...it’s only, temporary...I’ll get over it.”

“...Adam...” Sio choked back a sob, but didn’t cry. Of course he would be traumatized by that incident...for better or worse, she herself remembered very little; it all seemed more like a nightmare, with blurred emotions and images that changed every time she tried to remember more. But for him, the person who had to live through it all while she’d been recovering...silently she berated herself for so foolishly assuming they could immediately go back to how they were. “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to—”

“—It’s fine. It’s not your fault; it’ll just...take time,” he breathed deeply as the arm stopped shaking. “Besides, I think it’ll help if I...get used to being around you again. In a, you know, normal setting.”

“R, Right...” But what could possibly be normal now, after all that? “...U-Um, A, Adam...” He gazed at her evenly, but somehow Sio felt more nervous instead. “Wh, when you came to...help me out...I, I never got to, thank you properly...I’m sorry...”

That wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted to say; what she wanted to tell him, was that she was sorry she’d ignored him after the battle, but the words were stuck in her throat every single time.

“Oh...heh, honestly you don’t have to thank me,” he gave her a thin smile, “after all, it was your...message, that pulled me there, so...” He shrugged, not sure what else to say. “Plus, apparently Nostradamus foresaw this with that AU weapon of his—that’s why everyone else showed up as well. It wasn’t like I went sounding the alarm or anything.”

There it was again, this avoidance of that crucial thing that was suffocating them, condemning them to this uneasy truce. Why could she never say it...no, rather why did she always wait for him to make the first move, instead of taking the lead?

Enough was enough.

“A, Adam...l-listen, I...I’m, I’m sorry...” She heaved a sob but continued forward, not wanting to lose her courage. “Not just for, losing control and destroying a whole city, but I’m sorry...for, pushing you away...I-I didn’t, mean to...ignore you...!” A cry broke free and the tears started to fall, but Sio didn’t bother wiping them away.

“...” A knot was pulsing in his jaw as he watched her trying not to fall apart. How Adam wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tight, tell her that everything was all right and he forgave her—because he always did, didn’t he? Yet now he just stood there, watching while his heart argued with itself on what the right thing to do was.

What it was he really wanted to do.

“...Yeh. I know you didn’t mean to...an’ I understand why...but I gotta say, that was pretty low of you; giving me the silent treatment, turning away whenever I wanted t’ talk or else charging recklessly onto the field, then yellin’ at me to come save your arse...and after all that, you still wouldn’t even give me a second to talk.” He said all this without any malice or judgement, but words were still words. “I’m not going to lie...it hurts, Sio. It feels like you didn’t—don’t, trust me...that, you just turn to me when it’s...convenient for you.

Sio was sobbing by now, whether or not the last few sentences made their way through to her he didn’t know, but it didn’t matter; Adam had a feeling she knew all this, else why would she have sought him out in the first place?

“I-I know...I know...! I’m sorry...I, I didn’t...I, d-don’t...!” Her whole body was shaking by now, the girl having collapsed onto the floor while Adam stood and watched. Even though it broke his heart to see her like this, to say such callous words to her...those feelings were eating him from the inside out. “I-I, I...am, really, th-the worst...th, the lowest...”

She’d said the same thing, during that fight when she almost let herself get caught in the EIO’s destructive beam, if it hadn’t been for his timely actions. ‘I’m the worst; I don’t deserve to live.’ Just thinking about it now made his chest ache, the tremors of anxiety creeping up on him.

“No, Sio...just, stop saying that...!” Adam let out a shuddering breath, forcing his voice not to crack. “...It’s as I told you, last time...that’s not true at all. You’re not the worst—you’re human. You’re you, Sio Ogura. An’ that means you’ll make mistakes, and yeh, you did hurt people with your actions; same as I hurt you, by wallowing in my own misery and self-loathing. But you told me if I wanted to fix things, I should take responsibility for my actions...and so I am.” Slowly he walked over to the prone figure hunched over on the floor, lifting her up and brushing away her tangled locks and tears even as she continued to cry. “Now you’re the one who’s got to take your own advice, instead of continuing to blame yourself.”

She could only stare at him with teary maroons, unable to say anything except hiccups and wails. “I-I...I...mmm...s, so, sorry...o, ooh...b, but just, kn-kn-knowing, how much I—I hurt, y, you...” Gasping for breath, Sio was relieved when Adam guided her to sit on the bed instead of the floor.

“A, About...th, that battle...when you, c-c-came for me...I-I...I really was, happy...you know? I, I really wanted, t-to, see you, again...”

“...More than Asao?”

“...Wh-what...?”

Those confused maroons stared at him, a look of pain spreading across her features. “Wh, what do you...mean? I-I...I wanted to see you, both of you—”

“—But who did you want to see more? Me...or, Kaoru Asao...” Every word was harder to get out than the last, the phrase sounding the most ungrateful, accusatory, exact opposite of whom he thought he was, but he had to know. If she really loved him...or Asao.

Sio sat there, a stunned look on her tear-streaked face, but now eyeing him with a gaze he wasn’t sure quite how to interpret. “...Why, are you asking me this...now...how, I don’t understand...!”

Adam grit his teeth. Of course she wouldn’t understand...otherwise why else would he be feeling so tortured, dredging up possibly one of the thorniest questions in one of the worst situations ever.

“...I know you care about me, and that I’m important to you. But, so is Asao...isn’t she?”

“I, I...” With a desperate cry Sio threw herself onto the bed, sobbing while Adam looked on in despair. “A-Are you saying, y-you don’t, th-think I-I...I, care about, you?”

No. Not quite. Perhaps the most straightforward way was to just say it, consequences be damned. “...Sio, do you...love me?” Her breath caught mid-hiccup and he could see her eyes starting to change with understanding, but he plowed forward anyway. “I know; I’ve never said anything before—neither of us have—and hell, maybe this is way too late t’ be admitting it, but...I love you, Sio Ogura. And I mean that...in every sense of the word.”

Even with her sobs, the room seemed to have quieted until you could hear a pin drop. She simply stared, her expression changing and tears falling again, but somehow Adam had a feeling she now knew exactly what he was trying to say.

“I-I’m...I’m sorry...! Sorry...I, I...” For a second Adam felt his stomach drop, his pulse increasing until each beat was painful as the anxiety consumed everything. The next few words out of her mouth...he both needed yet dreaded them.

I’m sorry, but I don’t like you that way.

I can’t love you back.

Asao needs me more.

Would it all be for nothing? These feelings he’d nurtured for so long; sure he vehemently denied them at first when the flicker of realization came about, that she always seemed to be on his mind despite his self-justifying claim that it was only because she was a newbie, and always got in his way so of course he noticed her. It was true neither of them ever confessed anything, not even a simple “are we or aren’t we” confirmation, but hadn’t the kiss atop the hospital roof that night been enough? Perhaps he’d been too cocky in assuming she felt the same as him; maybe she misinterpreted his actions and simply thought he was playing around with her, or maybe she changed her mind after all this time?

“I...I, made you wait until, n-n-now...f, for me to...tell you but,” Sio let out a shuddering sigh, wiping away the last tears before looking right into his eyes, “I, love you, too...Adam...I mean it...”

The room seemed to spin a little, even though he hadn’t moved a muscle. There were too many emotions colliding with each other in his head: euphoria, relief, disbelief, confusion and guilt... But the words, they were real, right? So she did feel the same after all...and yet, this fear that somehow she misunderstood, because how could she possibly love someone like him back—

“...You...you’re, really serious? Even though—”

“—Did you think that, I...I liked Asao instead?” To his surprise, despite the tears on her face Sio now wore an expression of slight contempt. “Did you really think I would take something like our first, kiss, my first real kiss...so lightly? That I only hung out with you, played video games together, talked about our lives and how I feel, just to lead you on like that...do you really think of me as that type of person?”

Her expression shifted from despair to a mask of pain and betrayal, and Adam wasn’t sure which one was worse. He knew going in this conversation would get real messy, real quick; discussing their commitment to one another, after an incredibly complicated, life-or-death situation, was probably one of the worst things he could have chosen after they reunited. And yet the unease in his heart...if he didn’t say them now, before they turned into resentment...

“...No; I know you’re not that type of person, Sio. But, from my eyes...sometimes, it’s hard to tell whom you care for, more. Who’s actually worth your time and feelings, and who’s just...someone you call on when you need something.” Even as her pained looks twisted a hole in his heart, the need to lay his feelings bare overwhelmed the guilt. “You always talk about how important Asao is to you; how you, joined DOGOO partly because you felt it was your duty to protect her. Hell, every single defining moment in your life so far...it’s all been because of her, hasn’t it?” His mouth pulled back into a grimace; as much as Adam didn’t want to blame a person on their deathbed, there was no denying that the whole reason Sio suffered from an out-of-control e-egene and its subsequent consequences was because of that girl. “Maybe I’m being the selfish one here, and you know what, maybe I don’t deserve anything at all...but would it be so much to ask for even just a minute of your time, to know I can talk with you freely, instead of always being pushed to the side?”

“I...y-you...it’s not...it’s not like that!” She was sobbing again, but determined to make herself clear. “I-It’s...it’s true, that Asao is important...maybe more than just a friend...b-but, my relationship with her...e, even though I can’t explain it well...it’s, it’s not the same as how I feel about you!” Gasping for breath, Sio twisted the sheets between her fingers, willing herself to remain focused even though all she wanted to do was to scream and cry until nothing was left. “If...if you asked me, who I loved...that would be you, Adam. Asao-san...is my dear, precious friend...of course she’s going to be important to me. Her support, trust, and understanding...I’ll always treasure that type of connection I have with her. But you...you make me feel...a-all sorts of emotions and things I’ve...never felt before. New things. Passionate things. Nervous things. It scared me at first...I-I didn’t know what was going on or, or what to even do...but, eventually I knew...even if, I didn’t know what this feeling was, I wanted...to be with you. So p-please, don’t...don’t go thinking that I...I don’t love you back...that’s not, that’s not true at all!”

The look Sio was giving him would’ve driven the old Adam to his knees by now, begging for forgiveness, but the present Adam finally knew what it was Mirza had been trying to say. “I know; I know that, now...and, I’m...glad to hear you feel the same way I do.” To his surprise the last word came out as a tremble, his voice threatening to crack the more he spoke. “And I’m sorry it had to take something this awful for me to finally tell you...because I’m such an insecure bastard, I can’t even trust my own feelings, let alone yours...so I was afraid, that maybe this was all just in my head...”

A tear slid down, then another and another, but Adam didn’t bother wiping them. Now he felt sick with remorse, what with Sio’s own look of anguish and hearing her own tortured pleas. Why did things between them always have to be so complicated and messy; how was it they could never truly tell the other how they felt until confronted with a crisis? What he wouldn’t give for a normal moment between them, just once. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make you feel so terrible...but I had to know...because I’m always afraid...that I’m the only one in love...”

The bed shifted as Adam sat down, pinching the bridge of his nose in a half-hearted attempted to stem the tears. The silence seemed even more strained if possible, as both holders ruminated in silence over the others’ words, punctuated occasionally by deep sighs or else a hiccup. Mirza had emphasized the importance of being honest; but as he sat there, letting the tears drip down onto the sheets, Adam wondered if it had been the best course of actions. Maybe he should’ve waited until they were both calmer; maybe he shouldn’t have worded it in such an accusatory manner...but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t have worked. When it came to matters of the heart between the two of them, things never went as planned.

Suddenly the mattress sunk deeply, Adam looking up in surprise as Sio crawled her way over, before stopping just next to his hand. “...You know, I was afraid too. Afraid that you were just playing around with me, and once you met someone better I’d be forgotten.” She gave him a bit of a sarcastic grimace, eyes still not meeting his but instead wandering around the room. “But eventually...I started to think maybe I was wrong. That you weren’t like those typical guys who hook up with the first girl they see; that despite your tough-guy, lone-wolf act, you’re really kind inside. You try to do the right thing even if you don’t always know how to show it; you’re not the best at sweet-talking or compliments or even saying thank you,” Adam winced slightly at her words, “but to me...that’s what makes you you. I realized...I appreciate your honesty...because you always tell me what I need to hear, not what I want to hear. Like right now,” she whispered, finally turning her gaze towards him with her own tear-stained face, “it made me realize...that I’ve been incredibly selfish. Th-that, I’ve been taking your feelings...for granted,” she choked out, a fresh wave of tears starting up but Adam wiped them up this time.

“Wh, when you came for me...I really was happy, you know? Th-that you came when I needed you the most...s, s-s-so, I...I didn’t mean to...ignore you over Asao...! That’s not...what I meant at all!” Sio shook her head in despair, wanting to crawl under a rock and just disappear with shame. “I know it sounds lame, b-but...when you showed up, I knew you were safe; that you were okay, s-so I thought, we can always talk later...but Asao-san—” She looked at him helplessly, as if trying to send him her feelings even though it was what Adam suspected all along. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings...I-I, didn’t think you’d...be so hurt by it...”

“...I didn’t think so either, but guess we were both wrong,” he offered her a half-smile, one hand slowly curling around her fingers as she opened her palm to his touch. “Oh Sio...well, at the very least we both understand everything, now,” he sighed, suddenly drained from the emotional overload. Strange how quickly his feelings could change, going from fear to anger to relief and even content in the entire span of an hour. Mirza was right; they really needed to be better about this whole communication issue, if they wanted to avoid anymore future emotional whiplash. “Seriously, what I wouldn’t give to just have one single, non-messy, non-complicated moment with you...or at least one that doesn’t involve both of us breaking down.”

“Heh...you’re telling me,” Sio murmured, still not sure how to feel about everything. “I think our entire relationship is made up of messy, awkward moments...but, I guess that’s what makes it special, too. Don’t you think...there’s something to be said that, we’re still together...even after all this?”

He nodded, fingers continuing to caress her digits and now Sio shifted so she was leaning against him, Adam cautiously circling one arm around her shoulders and, when she didn’t pull away, pulled her close and on automatic she buried herself against his chest; nuzzling furiously as he couldn’t help but laugh a bit at how her hair tickled, despite his tears.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this...” he sighed deeply, running a hand through her silken strands. “Gods, it feels so good to hold you again...”

“Me too,” a muffled voice came up from his chest, where she was currently buried. “When you hold me like this...it, always makes me feel safe...like I belong here...”

Adam didn’t say anything, only tightening his grip and the girl responding in kind. To know he was the one to make her feel safe and secure...a deep sense of affection coursed through him as they both sat in a now-comfortable silence.

#documentation #love me tonight #//whooo boy #//wow #//such words #//angsty adasio is the best #//but damn hard to write

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itsthebeatingofhishideousheart · 6 years ago

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Not Your Sweetheart Chapter 2 - 22nd December

Warnings - Talk of cheating, swearing, anger, lying,

Word Count - 2,256

No Beta. First published 2018

Summary - When Sarah’s ex-turns up on her doorstep begging her to come to the family home for the holidays, she really wants to tell him where to go but she’s always been too kind-hearted. After just a few days with her in-laws, Sarah starts to think that she should have gone with her first instincts and stayed home.

Against all her better judgements and Suze's constant text messaging, Sarah stood in her kitchen with a single suitcase at her feet, wishing she'd gotten up earlier and finished off that bottle of Prosecco in the fridge. Kane was due any minute and she was already shaking.

A knock on the door made her jump.

Sarah took a deep breath, mentally pulled on her Big Girl Knickers and picked up her case. She opened the door and gasped. Kane looked like he hadn't slept since the last time they had spoken. His hair was scraggly and in need of a wash, his usual neat stubble was well on the way to full beard status and the bags under his eyes were dark and puffy.

"You look like shit." Kane raised an eyebrow and took her case, spinning on his heel and heading back down the icy path to the car. Sarah pulled the door closed behind her, feeling a little guilty at her outburst.

"We better hurry. The radio said it's gonna snow" was his only reply. Kane opened the trunk and placed her case with his own. When Sarah made no move to get into the car, he turned and frowned at her.

"Did you bring the papers?" Her voice was small but she was proud of how it didn't shake. Kane smirked and huffed out a laugh before reaching through the front passenger window and pulling out an envelope, he held it out and Sarah snatched it away from him. As she was pulling out the papers, she tried to go over what had been in her bag and decide if she could just let it go and run with the envelope as Suze had suggested. Sarah stopped when she glanced at the last sheet in the stapled pack. That motherfucker.

"You still haven't signed them?!" Sarah's voice was shrill and loud, echoing across the street. A woman walking her dog stopped and stared at them for a moment before pretending to be overly interested in a poster for a missing cat. "I'll sign them when the trip's over. Not that I don't trust you, sweetheart, I just need to make sure you have the incentive to stay for the whole holiday and not call a cab from the first services we stop at."

Sarah was livid. She couldn't remember ever having been this angry before, not even when she'd found out about Kane's mistress had she been this full of rage. Kane watched her carefully, obviously ready and expecting a fight. Sarah blinked before handing the papers back to him and climbing in the car, she fastened her seatbelt, folded her hands in her lap and glared out the windscreen.

Kane stood in silent shock for a moment before scrambling to get around to the driver's side in case she changed her mind. he threw the envelope into the back and started the engine. As he pulled away from the curb, Sarah finally spoke. Her voice was low and ice cold, she didn't even look at him.

"I hate you, Kane Stinton. I hate you more than I ever thought I could hate anyone in my entire life." Kane swallowed. He blinked rapidly a few times to clear the tears that filled his eyes before sighing.

"Oh, sweetheart. There's worse to come."

It became clear to Kane after just 30 minutes that this was going to be a long trip. He tried at least a dozen times to get Sarah to talk to him but she just stared at the road ahead, her hands clasped together so tightly in her lap that the knuckles were white. In a final desperate attempt, Kane even told Sarah that Shamima had been cheating on him and had left. He glanced across at her but there was nothing. No smirk, no raised eyebrows or even an I told you so. Kane sighed and flicked the radio on, determined to drown out the uncomfortable silence.

Two hours later, Kane noticed Sarah's left leg was jiggling up and down, rapidly. Luckily, they'd just passed a sign for motorway services and when the turning came up, he took it and parked as close to the building as he could. As soon as the car stopped, Sarah was opening the door and hurrying into the building. Kane sat for a moment and stared at where she had vanished into the ladies room.

He felt sick. There was a thought in the back of his mind that, since they wouldn't be getting back together anyway, maybe he should just tell her the truth and let her go. Kane climbed from the car and pulled his coat together around his broad frame. That wouldn't work. Mostly because she wouldn't believe him but also because they'd just go looking for her and then she'd definitely die.

Kane gasped a little as the warmth from the overhead heaters hit him as he walked through the front door. The men's room was to the right and there was a coffee place straight ahead and newsagents to the left. If he was quick, maybe he could buy Sarah a coffee as a peace offering. She'd probably throw it in his face but it couldn't hurt to try.

Kane hurried into the men's room and almost collided with a guy on his way out. He was taller than Kane by a good five inches and his eyes were a muddy brown, he smirked and stood aside. Kane stared at him for a moment before passing by, wrinkling his nose at the scent of leather and whiskey that assaulted his nostrils. Who the Hell was throwing back whiskey at this time of day? He finished his business as quickly as he could before washing his hands. Kane caught sight of his reflection and winced. Bloodshot eyes, greasy hair and puffy skin that made him look older than his 35 years. No wonder that guy had been laughing at him. Maybe his mother was right. Kane needed to prepare himself for the worse.

Shaking water from his hands, Kane dried them on some paper towels and left the men's room. He took three steps towards the coffee place before he stopped, jealousy tinting his gaze slightly green. Sarah was leaning against a concrete column, a cup of coffee in her hands, as she smiled up at Mr Whiskey and Leather. What the fuck is this?

Sarah had managed to ignore Kane for the entire journey so far. She'd even kept her eyes forward as she jiggled her leg to try and stave off the desperate need to pee that had almost grown overwhelming. Sarah had decided that she'd rather wet herself than ask Kane to find a service station. It was petty but, at that moment, she didn't give a flying fuck.

When the car had turned towards a large building Sarah recognized, she'd practically jumped from the car and raced inside. Breathing an audible sigh of relief as she finally relaxed her muscles.

"That's the stuff" she muttered. Sarah finished up and washed her hands in the sink before leaving the ladies room. Kane was nowhere in sight and she couldn't see him in the car. Sarah turned, intending to grab a big ole bucket of coffee and maybe a muffin when she collided with a broad chest and hot coffee flew in all directions.

"Holy shit!" Sarah jumped backwards and pulled her maroon sweater away from her skin while slapping at her jeans.

"Jesus! I'm so sorry! I didn't even see you. Are you okay? Here, take this for your chest." A wadded up ball of sopping, cold tissues was handed to Sarah, she pulled off her sweater and put them against her bare chest, hissing a little at the sting. She adjusted her camisole before turning a furious gaze on the arsehole that had bumped into her but, once Sarah's eyes actually met his, she found her voice had deserted her. And apparently her all her higher brain functions had fled as well.

The guy was taller than Kane and Sarah suddenly wondered if it was a latent size kink that had her underwear uncomfortably damp. Or maybe it was just the spilt coffee. His eyes were such a dark brown that they were almost black, dirty blonde hair was swept back from a tanned face. Jesus Christ, that jawline could cut glass.

Sarah's eyes flicked downward and, while he wasn't as obviously well built as Kane, this man's body just seemed to scream strong. There was a voice in the back of Sarah's head, one that sounded suspiciously like Suz, telling her to climb this guy like a tree and never let go.

"Are you okay?" His voice was deep and husky. Sarah found herself feeling guilty for finding this man attractive but then her anger returned as she realized she had nothing to feel guilty about. Her gaze met his and she suddenly realized she'd just been standing there, staring at him like a love-struck teenager. Sarah scowled and mentally slapped herself into remembering that she was not a teenager. She was a very pissed off, 35-year-old woman that would now either have to get changed in a tiny cubicle in the ladies room or be uncomfortable for the rest of the journey.

"I was fine until you decided to give me a bloody bath!" she snapped. The man threw his now empty coffee cup into the nearest bin and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. His very large hand. His very large hand that could probably hold her entire butt while he pushed her against the wall and - Stop it, Sarah. Mad not horny, remember?

"I'm sorry. This is totally my fault. I was just . . . My ex just decided to text me and invite me to her wedding in the new year, to the guy she left me for. I was . . . Distracted. I don't know why I'm telling you this! Oh God, I'm so sorry." Sarah suddenly felt bad for the guy. She knew that feeling and she wouldn't wish it on anyone.

"Oh, well. That sucks." Sarah almost facepalmed at how lame that sounded. She cleared her throat and stuck out her hand. "I'm sorry I was such a bitch about an accident. I'm stuck in a car with my cheating ex on the way to a family Christmas I'd rather avoid. Now we're both oversharing. I'm Sarah." The guy smiled and, holy crap are those dimples?

"I guess both situations suck. I'm Jack, nice to meet you." They shook hands and moved back towards the coffee shop. After a small clash about who was buying, Jack paid for two latte's and they moved to the side to get out of the way of the growing queue.

"Thanks for this. It's gonna be a long holiday and I'm kind of done with it already" said Sarah, sighing. She positioned herself against a concrete column that had a warm air vent over it to try and dry herself off a little.

"Yeah, I feel you. So, I was wondering if - "

"Hey, sweetheart. You ready to go?" Sarah felt her heart drop to her shoes. She turned to Kane and suddenly felt all her previous rage return at the sight of his smug smirk. Sarah took a sip from her cup and turned her attention back to Jack.

"Wondering if?" she prompted, ignoring Kane. Jack's eyes flicked to Kane for a moment before he seemed to catch up and those dimples made another appearance as he smiled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, slipping it into Sarah's pocket himself.

"Call me, honey" Jack winked, threw his cup in the nearest bin and swaggered away. Sarah hid her smile behind her own cup. Glancing at Kane, Sarah flicked her hair over her shoulder before striding past him and heading for the car. Kane was hot on her heels and they were soon on their way again.

Sarah tried to hide her glee as Kane's hands gripped the steering so hard she could hear it creaking.

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"What the fuck was what?" Kane snorted and shook his head in annoyance.

"What was that back there? Letting some random guy give you his number with me standing right there. What the Hell was that, sweetheart?" At the use of that bloody pet name, Sarah felt her patience snap. She turned to Kane, eyes blazing and breath coming hard.

"Hurts doesn't it? To have the person you love more than anything in the world compare you unfavourably to someone else right under your nose. Welcome to my world, sweetheart. Fucking choke on it." Sarah twisted in her seat and turned her gaze towards the rapidly passing scenery outside to hide the tears that were dripping down her cheeks. How dare he think he had any say in her life anymore? This Christmas could not be over fast enough.

Kane remained silent. He knew Sarah was crying and he felt awful. He could always tell by how she hunched in on herself and tried to hide away from him. She was right. It hurt like Hell and he'd been doing it to her for months before she'd found out about Shamima. Kane sighed and felt the jealousy and anger drain out of him, almost as if he were deflating in his seat. His mum had been right. Sarah was right. She wasn't his sweetheart anymore.

#original work #cheating #horror #chapter two #not your sweetheart #someone please read this

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spartanguard · 7 years ago

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you belong among the wildflowers

Summary: Emma Swan's life has been far from easy. Neither has Killian Jones'. Through a handful of meetings, a couple tattoos, and some fantastic music, maybe they'll find a happy ending. (CS Modern AU heavily inspired by the music of Tom Petty) | Rated GA, 7k | tw: minor mentions of alcoholism

a/n: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, HOLLI!!! aka @mryddinwilt I started planning this AU quite a while ago, in honor of our shared love of “Wildflowers”, but then it kind of spiraled when I sat down to write last Monday only to learn of Tom Petty’s passing. So this is kind of double duty as your bday present and an ode to one of my all-time favorite musicians.

thank you to @shipsxahoy and @optomisticgirl for looking at this!

Hope your day was amazing, Holli, and hope you enjoy this! Thank you for always being an encouraging, awesome person!! <3

“You belong among the wildflowers...you belong somewhere you feel free.”

She wasn’t sure when she first heard the song. It must have been on the radio when Emma was a kid, in one foster home or another. The memory was fuzzy, but the sentiment was clear: that she deserved to be happy one day, and to have love and peace.

Those all seemed like things well out of reach for a 16-year-old runaway orphan, but it was a nice thought. And a wildflower was as good as anything else to get a tattoo of, especially when the main goal in getting a tattoo was more just getting one out of rebellion than wanting it to carry any specific symbolism. Who knew, though? Maybe she’d eventually get that.

At least, that was what she told herself as the needle stung the skin inside her wrist. She liked to think she was tough, and she’d certainly been hit harder, but—ow. Oh well, it was probably due punishment for using a fake ID to get it in the first place.

On the other side of the dingy parlor was a guy who couldn’t be more than couple years older than her—fresh out of high school, probably, since it was early summer—also wincing through the work being done on his forearm. But when he realized she was staring, he sent a sly grin and a wink her way, making her blush. What? He was cute, even if his “beard” was patchy stubble at best and doing nothing to mature his babyish features.

He left halfway through hers being done, but was smoking against the building outside once she finished, with a guitar case propped against the wall next to him.

“Want one?” he offered, holding the pack out to her; she didn’t realize she’d been staring again. She also had never smoked before, but—eh, what the hell? She strode forward and, as expertly as she could manage, slid one out of the box and held it between her fingers like she’d seen done so many times. He deftly flicked his lighter and she lit the cigarette, then brought it to her lips and inhaled...and then sputtered and coughed once the smoke hit her lungs, which was received with a deep chuckle.

“First one?” he teased, blue eyes laughing. Her response was continued coughing. “Well, you never forget your first.” She glared. “Don’t breathe so deep,” he offered, his accented voice turning gentle.

Once she’d regained her faculties, she tried it again, doing as he said. She wasn’t a fan but it was definitely better.

“There you go, love,” he cheered, sounding almost proud.

“Not your love,” she threw back.

“Fair enough.” She joined him against the wall and they settled into an easy silence. He didn’t have to say anything for her to get the sense that they had more in common than being freshly tatted; the fact that he was alone, too, spoke volumes.

But then she nearly jumped when he introduced himself. “Name’s Killian; Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan.”

“Suits you.”

“What does?”

“Swan.”

“What does that mean?” Maybe things were better when he was quiet; this boy had no idea how to talk to girls, did he?

“It means you’re feisty and I’d rather not piss you off.” Well, okay; actually, that was probably the best complement she’d ever received. “Is that your tattoo? A swan?”

Oh, right—people asked what tattoos meant. Better get used to that. “Uh, no—it’s a flower,” she blurted out, shoving her wrist toward him and showing off the fresh ink. “It’s...well, it’s pretty, and it’s...a reminder, I guess.”

“Of what?” He was genuinely curious.

“That even though I’ve had a rough start, I can still have a happy life.”

He smiled at her, cutting dimples into his round, boyish cheeks. “That’s awfully brave, lass.”

She just shrugged; maybe it was, but if she gave up hope, what kind of life would she have? Unused to such praise, she turned the attention back to him. “What’s yours?”

He held out his arm, showing off the intricate heart design, deep red against his lightly tanned skin.

“That’s gorgeous,” she muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious of her colorless outline. “What's it mean? Are you in lo-ove?” she sing-songed—a well-used defense mechanism that she had a feeling he’d see right through.

“No, not yet,” he brushed off with a laugh. “But someday. Just like you, I have hope.”

She scoffed. “You really think anyone will love people like us?”

“Even the losers get lucky sometimes.”

They spent the rest of the night burning through the pack of cigarettes and wandering the backstreets of Boston, chatting under the light of the full moon. He was from England, originally, but he and his brother ended up in the states with a distant relative after their parents were gone. He’d just graduated high school and was headed west, just like her, but he was chasing a dream, just he and his acoustic. She just wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Let me know if you end up in Portland,” she told him once they’d found their way to the bus terminal. Funny that her last night in Boston was when she’d make her first real friend.

“Will do. Take care, Swan,” he goodbyed with a salute, boarding his L.A.-bound coach.

She waved him off, watching as his bus faded into the dark and silently promising to try.

“The last three days the rain was unstoppable. It was always cold, no sunshine.”

“Sounds about right,” Emma muttered to herself as she putted around the record store. More like last year, for her. As good as it was to finally be out of jail, she was quickly learning that not many places were eager to hire an 18-year-old ex-con with barely even a GED. Thank goodness there was a homeless shelter nearby, but the beds there sucked even worse than her prison cot and what she wouldn’t give for something just a little plush to sink her still-aching body into. Though, she supposed, that ranked pretty low on her current list of problems.

She’d just come back from yet another unsuccessful interview—who knew McDonald’s was so picky?—and had a stack of even more applications in her backpack to fill out and return. But her spirit was just a little bit more shattered after her shit morning, so she popped into the music shop to see if that could perk her up a bit. Plus, it was air conditioned, which automatically made it better than the Arizona oven outside.

She browsed the used vinyl, skimming titles both familiar and unfamiliar as someone sang and played somewhere in the store. Honestly, that was the main reason she’d stuck around; she certainly couldn’t afford to buy anything, but the free show was already helping her mood. And it was hard to feel unmotivated when that song was playing.

“There's something good waitin' down this road. I'm pickin' up whatever is mine. Yeah runnin' down a dream…”

She was halfway ready to pull out a pen and start filling out all those forms right there in the middle of the store, but then she realized that there was something oddly familiar about that voice. Cautiously, she followed the power cords toward the back of the shop, where a makeshift performance venue was set up.

And there he was, after all this time. Killian Jones.

He looked a little bit more worn, just like she probably did; the scraggly beard had filled in some; his dark hair was just as much a mess as it had been a couple years ago, and that tattoo was teasing her from under the rolled-up sleeve of a plaid shirt while he played his guitar. More than a few times, she’d wondered if he’d had any success. Phoenix was a far cry from Los Angeles, but hey, he was performing—and performing well.

She hung out near the back of the small crowd, just watching him pour his heart into his instrument and the microphone. The audience was bobbing along and tapping their feet to the familiar tune, and his acoustic rendition and soulful voice made it all the more endearing.

And then the song ended, he thanked the crowd, and they dispersed as he packed up his things. A few people slipped him some tips, and he flashed that dimpled smile that made her own mouth tick up at the corner. It was good seeing him happy, even if the odds were high he’d long forgotten her. Out of curiosity, she wondered if he had.

She carefully made her way to him. “Hey.”

He stood straight up at her voice, then slowly turned toward her, a grin forming on his face. “Swan?”

That answered that question. “Killian,” she answered with a small smile.

“Bloody hell.” To her surprise, he engulfed her in a hug, but quickly, she returned it. “How’ve you been, love? I’m sorry I never made it to Portland, but here you are and...wow. Do you want to get coffee?”

She was nearly whiplashed from the warm reception; she hadn’t been expecting that. “Uh,” she stammered, not sure how to approach the money thing.

“My treat,” he quickly added enthusiastically.

“Okay.”

They settled into a corner table of a quiet little cafe, and before he could ask her about the last two years, she quickly focused on him: “So, are you a rock star yet?”

He snorted. “Hardly. Only had enough bus fare to get me to Oklahoma, so I’ve been picking my way across the country ever since. But I’ve been playing bars and shops all the time, saving up. Actually, I’m catching a train to L.A. tomorrow. Care to join?” he offered with a wink.

“I wish,” she answered, laughing. “Looks like I’m stuck here for a bit.”

“Oh?” He seeemed genuinely disappointed. “Fancy job here?”

“I’d take any job, actually. I...I just got out of prison.”

“Oh. I see.” To his credit, he didn’t try to put any distance between them, like most people would. Actually, he was almost annoyingly in her space; if it was anyone else, she’d be the one backing away, but Killian’s presence was unusually calming. And, for some reason, she felt compelled to spill the whole thing.

“Yeah, I, uh, met a guy in Portland, and he got me in trouble. Set me up for the stuff he did. He ran off, I got caught. Ended up in jail for a year. Had a kid. So, here I am, a year later. Just giving it another go, I guess.”

“Wait—back up; you had a kid?”

Oh. She curled in on herself a bit; she hadn’t meant to say that part. “Yeah. Found out while I was in there. He’s...I put him up for adoption. No one wants a teenage jailbird for a mom.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand, turning it over to find her tattoo. As he rubbed it with his thumb, he said, “A couple of years ago, I met a fiery young lass who told me that even though she had a rough start, she still had hope for a happy life.” She averted her eyes, studying the floor instead; it had been a long time since she’d given that tattoo thought, going so far as to cover it with marker while in jail. Things had been pretty bleak then and weren’t looking much better. “Hope is a powerful thing, Emma; don’t tell me you’ve lost yours.”

“Hard not to.”

“Don’t, Emma. You deserve it.” She finally glanced up, and the resolve in his blue eyes was nearly intimidating. Slowly, she nodded, though she still wasn’t sure she believed it.

She nodded at his forearm. “What about you? Found your true love yet?”

He chuckled. “Not yet. But I’m sure they’re out there.”

“I hope you find them, Killian.”

“I hope you find your happy ending, too, Swan.”

Again, they spent the night together, wandering around Phoenix, him smoking and her not (she’d learned her lesson there), until they ended up outside the train station.

“Look me up if you ever end up in L.A., alright? I’ll be the one playing the Viper Room.”

She wanted to laugh, but he was so confident. “I will. Good luck, Killian.”

“You too, Emma.”

They embraced before he boarded the train, and she waved until it was a speck in the distance, before heading back to the shelter with a bit more determination than she’d had the night before.

“Well, the moon sank as the wind blew and the street lights slowly died…”

Man, what a night. It was 11 o’clock, but she was too keyed up to hit the sack, despite everything that had happened already. And the thought of heading back to the just-slightly-nicer-than-a-fleabag motel she was staying in quickly made her decide that if she was stuck in Nashville, she may as well enjoy it.

The nice thing about the town was that there was music and life everywhere, with no signs of dying anytime soon. She had her pick of the bars, and it only mattered what kind of music she was in the mood for.

The more famous venues were all packed, but there were plenty of holes-in-the-wall and dives to grab a drink and a show. A cozy little place stood out to her, and pleasing, upbeat, classic-sounding rock was escaping the open door. She gave her skintight dress a quick tug down (ugh, this thing loved to ride up); flashed her legal, 22-year-old ID at the bouncer (not that he was looking at it); and headed into the smoky, hazy bar.

The band onstage was good, and so was the whiskey. It was nice to just be able to chill for a moment; she hadn’t been able to do much of that with her new job. Not at night, especially. Spying a few plush couches toward the back of the place, she got a refill and headed back, hoping to put her feet up for a bit and maybe even kick off these impractical heels.

The eyes of just about every man in the bar landed on her as she passed through, but she’d gotten pretty used to ignoring that by now. Until one pair did a double take and called out for her.

“Emma?”

She stopped—no way it was him. His Facebook page hadn’t said anything about Nashville—did it?

“Swan, is that you?”

But clearly, her memory was unreliable, because she turned and there he was: Killian Jones, rockstar. Well, almost rockstar, but he certainly looked the part in his skinny jeans, black t-shirt, and—“Are you wearing eyeliner?”

“Good to see you, too,” he teased before wrapping her up in a hug, then stepping back and giving her a once over. “I’m going to guess you didn’t just get out of jail this time.”

“Nope,” she answered, laughing. “Just enjoying a night on the town. Are you performing here?”

“Yeah, I’m the next set.”

“I had no idea!”

“You say that as if you should have had one.”

“I mean, you do have a Facebook page.”

“Did you ‘like’ me, Swan?”

“Of course I ‘like’ you.” It was amazing to her how she could so easily slip into the same old banter with someone she’d only spent hours with, but it felt like so much longer. “I’ve gotta be able to tell everyone that I once had coffee with a rockstar.”

He ducked his head and laughed, cheeks growing adorably rosy. “I’m not there yet, but,” he jerked his thumb toward a professional-looking woman with dark curly hair, “my manager thinks I will be soon.”

“You will.” Emma had never been more sure of anything. Her own life was still in flux, but she’d always known that teenage boy from what felt like a lifetime ago would go on to big things, even if his face had lost some of that youthful softness now. “Do you have time for a drink?”

“Of course.”

They settled on a sofa and caught each other up on the last four years: he did finally make it to L.A., and worked as a bouncer a bit before finally catching a break—and the eye—of a talent scout, and then a record label. And now he was on tour, trying to drum up enough attention to be able to put together an album.

“I tried to catch you in Tallahassee, but it didn’t work out. Got too busy that night.”

His eyes narrowed with uncertainty. “And what are you up to now?”

“Using my good looks to trap guys,” she answered, only semi-sarcastically.

“Swan, beg your pardon if this is rude, but…” His eyes drifted over her outfit again, and he seemed oddly concerned. “Are...are you a hooker?” he asked quietly.

She was taken aback at first, but then could only laugh. “No, but I can see why you’d think that. I’m in bail bonds. This is honestly the best way to nab a skip.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “I was near ready to offer you a job on my road crew,” he replied with a wink.

“You couldn’t afford me,” she threw back, smirking.

They kept chatting, and she had another drink, letting the warm buzz of liquor settle in her veins and relax her. Unconsciously, she found herself moving closer and closer to him, until her bare arm was lined up with his. If he cared, he didn’t say, or maybe his rum was having a similar effect.

He traced her tattoo with his index finger. “How’s this going?” he asked; he was still the only person who knew what it meant.

“Slowly. But things don’t suck anymore.”

“Sounds like progress.”

She followed suit, drawing her thumb around the edge of the heart on his arm. “And you? Found your love yet?” Her lips nearly brushed the pointed tip of his ear, they were so close now.

“No. Still waiting.”

“You’re a patient man, Killian Jones.”

“Aye, that I am.”

His voice dropped on that, with a seriousness she wasn’t used to hearing from him. She shifted away just enough to get a good look at his face, and his eyes were boring into hers, practically neon in contrast to the low lights of the bar. The words of the singer on stage swam into her consciousness; it was nearly comical how perfectly they fit the moment.

“But then somethin' I saw in your eyes told me right away that you were gonna have to be mine…”

The air between them grew heated very fast, raising goosebumps on her arm. And before she knew it, she was surging forward, crashing her lips into his.

Her hands found the nape of neck and his settled on her waist as she kissed him with everything she had. There was something just so perfect, so soul-satisfying about it as she nipped at his lower lip, that she didn’t know why she’d waited so long.

Their mouths and tongues fought for dominance as he held her tight, until finally they had to break apart for air. And then she realized what she’d just done, and who she kissed, and whose arms were holding her tight, and instantly backed away.

Hope was one thing, but the reality of a love—of a relationship—was still too daunting.

He rasped, “That was…”

“...A one-time thing,” she finished for him, not giving him another answer. She couldn’t; not with him. It was Killian. Their meeting was a fluke and the odds of it happening again were so slim; what was she thinking? Even if he was the one person who understood her; just—no. They couldn’t.

She hastily grabbed her purse and stood, a little too fast judging by the way the room spun. “Emma, wait—” Killian started, hopping up to stabilize her.

“No, Killian, I—I can’t.” She shrugged him off, not daring to look in his eyes. “Good luck.”

His plea fell on deaf ears as she raced out of the bar into the night, but one last line of lyrics caught her attention.

I'll never get over how good it felt when you finally held me; I’ll never regret…

But she would regret it, she knew. So it was better to run now.

“I'm so tired of being tired. Sure as night will follow day...”

It was raining—storming, really, and the power had gone out. So when someone started banging on her townhouse door from out in the dark night, louder than the battery-operated radio she had on, Emma was as terrified of an intruder as she was concerned it was someone seeking shelter.

Should have known it would be both.

The pounding grew quiet and a muffled voice was singing something unintelligible, which was then followed by a soft thud against the door and the hollow sound of a dropped glass that should have broken but somehow didn’t.

Baseball bat in hand, she cautiously tiptoed down the hall and peered through the peephole. Whoever it was was slumped against the door, soaked to the bone, and was dramatically raising their arm to knock again. As the sleeve of their leather jacket rode up thanks to gravity, she got a glimpse of a tattoo she’d recognize anywhere—though it was a bit different now. Just like him, she supposed.

“Killian, I’m opening the door; stand back,” she called, not wanting him to collapse in her entryway. Something told her he was going to regardless, but she heard a groan and the sounds of movement as she undid the locks and chains.

And then she swung open the door, and there he was. “Swan.” A tired smile deepend the lines around his eyes; she responded with a tentative one of her own. She honestly thought she’d never see him again after that night three years ago in Nashville—that he wouldn’t want anything to do with her, especially once he had hit it big.

But now a one-hit wonder was standing on her front porch, dripping wet and reeking of rum. Unable to come up with anything to say, she just stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.

“’M sorry to barge in on you like this,” he stammered, staring at the wood floor. “I...jus’ didn’ know where else t’go.”

“How did you even find me?”

“Same as you found me. Facebook. The internet.” It was her turn to cast her eyes down; she still ‘liked’ all his social media posts, but figured he’d never notice.

As a result of said stalking, she knew everything that had happened to him in the last few years, especially with his manager-turned-girlfriend. The celeb magazines loved him and Milah, going so far as to call them “Millian,” especially when his debut album was tearing up the charts. She’d seen the excess, the wild living, and the absolute love in his eyes when he was with her. She’d been happy for him, truly. And damn if that album wasn’t a rocker.

But then, in true rockstar fashion, he partied too much, lived too hard, and then the two of them got in a wreck. They weren’t at fault, thankfully, but Milah was killed instantly. He dropped out of the spotlight, was dropped from his label, and had seemingly disappeared.

Only to show up on her doorstep, on the other side of the country, clearly heartbroken and drunk as a skunk. Lucky her.

“Come on; you need a shower.”

“I keep crawling back to you...I keep crawling back to you.”

After getting him clean and dry—a feat in itself, given the lack of lights—and into the too-big clothes some one-night stand had forgotten, she had him wrapped in a blanket on the other end of her couch, where she sat watching him sip hot cocoa while the radio made background noise. Where he’d at least been a bit happy at seeing her when he arrived, now he just seemed like a kicked puppy, albeit a wasted one.

“So, how you’ve been?” he asked, in a tone that was too forced to be casual.

“Seriously?”

“What?” he threw back, glaring at her. “I’m sure you know all about me; isn’t it fair that I get caught up, too?”

“There’s nothing to catch up on.” There wasn’t, really; she just continued to catch skips and move around; it was pure luck that he caught her here in New York. “And I’m not the one abusing their liver here.”

“Be glad you don’t have a reason to.” He set his empty mug on the coffee table with a thunk and slumped against the cushions.

She scooted closer to him and gently took hold of his arm, running a thumb along his tattoo. He’d added to it since she saw him last: now, it had a jagged dagger down the middle, and a ribbon bearing Milah’s name. It looked fresh. “She seemed like an awesome woman,” Emma commented, hoping that might get him to open up.

“She is. She was. Bloody hell, I’ll never get used to that.”

Emma kept studying the tattoo, knowing that if she looked at him, she might lose her composure. “You got your wish, though: you had love.”

He just grunted. “Fat lot of good it did me. The high was better than any drug, and the crash is far worse.”

“The rum probably doesn’t help.”

“Doesn’t hurt.”

He fell silent after that, and she continued to massage his arm. The fist he’d been holding tight eventually slackened, and his breathing evened out. Finally, she dared to look at his face; he was asleep, but didn’t seem to be at peace. Dark circles nearly matched his thick eyelashes; his beard was scraggly again, but due to it being unkempt rather than juvenile; and hair was an uneven mess. How did someone who seemed to have everything going for them suddenly end up like this?

She stared down at her own tattoo. It seemed to be mocking her now. If things had gone so terribly for Killian once his dream was reached, then surely hers had no better chance of coming true. What a waste.

Killian spent the night on her couch and she made him breakfast the next morning, forcing food and water into him to help him detox. He was sober, it seemed, but she recognized the shaky hands that were gripping his fork with all he had.

“I can’t thank you enough for taking me in, Swan,” he finally said after the arduous process of eating was done. “You had no reason to; I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me,” she assured him. “But if you do feel like making it up to me: get help.”

He nodded solemnly. “I will.”

They both sensed the goodbye that was coming, but she had one more question. “Killian, why did you come to me?”

He just shrugged and smiled sadly. “You understand.”

She did.

The TMZ headline about his rehab stint lifted a weight off her, knowing he’d be okay—and making it that much easier to continue with her next move. It had been a minor blessing he’d been too far gone to notice all the boxes.

And then she made sure her address wasn’t listed online. For security—or so she told herself.

This place was certainly out of range of a Starbucks, but at least Storybrooke had some sort of coffee shop. It was one of those quaint, hipstery cafes that she generally made a point to avoid on account of being too homey—but, if Henry got his wish, that's what this little seaside town would become.

God, Henry—she was still pinching herself. Obviously, she'd thought about him a lot in the past ten years, but she never imagined he'd show up at her door the way he did, dragging her back here. He was a fantastic kid, better than she could ever hope for, and certainly better than she could have done.

His adoptive mother was obviously (rightly) uneasy with the situation, given that Henry basically blackmailed Emma into bringing him back and then into staying longer to get to know each other. It seemed he was a bit of a loner, and a generally curious kid, so it kind of made sense to her why he’d want to have her around. Assuming Regina allowed it, of course.

And hey, Emma could use a vacation. Two weeks away from the hustle and bustle of city life? She could do that, even if meant changing up her means of sating her caffeine addiction.

Thankfully, it was hard to mess up her coffee order, so she found a comfy corner of the shop and settled in with a book, killing time until Henry got out of school. The window she was seated by gave a stunning view of the Atlantic, and for a while, she got lost in the morning lights dancing on the waves.

“Well I started out down a dirty road…”

Emma stilled. She should have known this would be the type of place to have a guitar player. But that in itself wasn’t what froze her blood—it was that voice.

“Started out all alone…”

Impossible. Granted, he’d fallen off the radar since he went to rehab, so she just assumed he was back on the road somewhere. She’d never imagine he’d be here, though.

“I’m learning to fly, but I ain’t got wings. Coming down is the hardest thing.”

She was almost scared to look; she hadn’t taken her eyes off the ocean since hearing that first line. But she knew she had to.

And there he was: perfectly at home behind the mic with an acoustic guitar, perched on a stool in jeans and plaid, getting lost in the music like he did all those years ago in Arizona.

And he looked good. It was hard to look worse than he had when they’d last been together, but Killian appeared not just healthy, but happy. His ginger beard was neatly trimmed, hair was intentionally disheveled, and there was a brightness in his eyes again that sparkled like the sun on the water she’d just been staring at.

“Well some say life will beat you down. Break your heart, steal your crown.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered. Unconsciously, she started rubbing her tattoo with her thumb, like she'd taken to whenever he crossed her thoughts. It was great to see him like this, but it also made her realize just how far she was from anything resembling the peace that showed in the relaxed set of his shoulders and gentle smile as he sang.

“I’m learning to fly around the clouds. What goes up must come down.”

Thankfully, the cafe had a side door. Calmly, she gathered her things and slipped out. At some point, she knew she’d probably run into him—this town was only so big—but she didn’t want to face that today.

Fate had other plans, though, when she wasn’t paying attention to her path while she and Henry headed to the diner for an after-school hot cocoa. While listening to Henry tell her about that day’s ornithology lesson, she collided with something warm, solid, and familiar that instantly braced its arms around her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, lass—Emma?” His mouth hung open in disbelief when he realized it was her, eyes growing wide as he studied her, then crinkling at the corners with a grin.

“Hey,” she answered meekly, with a shy smile of her own.

“Bloody hell, I’ve missed you,” he exclaimed, pulling her in for an actual hug that she couldn’t help but reciprocate. It was Killian, after all—he was still right when he’d said they understood each other. His arms felt just as good as they had that night in Nashville. And no one had ever missed her before. “Where did you go?”

“I moved right after—”

“Mom, you know Killian?” Henry asked, interrupting their reunion.

Killian pulled back with a quizzical expression on his raised brow. “‘Mom’?”

“Emma’s my birth mother!” Henry shouted before Emma had a chance to reply, so she just nodded. Recognition sparked in Killian’s eyes, likely thinking back to that conversation years ago. Henry continued, “How do you guys know each other?”

“We go way back, lad,” Killian answered. “Your mum’s me oldest friend.” She blushed, but he was probably hers, too.

“Oy, what about me?” a similarly accented voice protested. Killian finally let Emma go and stepped away, and a slightly taller man was standing behind him. (She refused to admit that she immediately missed Killian’s presence around her.)

“Emma, this is my brother, Liam. He’s my—I’ve been with him for the last couple years, since...since I last saw you.”

She could fill in the blanks. “It’s nice to meet you,” she started, extending her hand, but then was shocked to be pulled into another hug.

“Thank you, Emma,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. She was stunned, but nodded a response.

How was it she’d only been in this town a matter of days and already felt more wanted, more a part of things than anywhere else she’d been in the last 28 years?

Liam pulled back and cleared his throat; she pretended not to see the watery look in his eyes. “I’d love to stay and chat, but Killian and I have an appointment.”

“Can we get coffee sometime?” Killian asked quietly. “I’d love to catch up.”

“Yeah, me too,” she replied, unable to deny it anymore. She at least owed it to him.

Two days later, she arrived at the shop a couple hours before the time they’d decided on so she could catch him playing again. This time, she didn’t hide in the corner, and she didn’t run off before they could chat. He’d seen her, anyway, and knowing him, would just track her down if she’d tried to flee. She was tempted to, though, when he sang the last song of his set.

“I dreamed you; I saw your face. Caught my lifeline when drifting through space.

I saw an angel; I saw my faith. I can only thank God it was not too late.”

His eyes drifted to her more than once and she could feel her cheeks burning red. Add that to the list of firsts on this whirlwind trip: first time someone sang a song to her. And, of course, it was something super deep and heartfelt and she wasn’t tearing up, not at all, because how did this random friendship with a guy she’s barely spent 24 total hours with become so damn important?

“Now I'm walking this street on my own. But she's with me everywhere I go.

Yeah, I found an angel; I found my place. I can only thank God it was not too late.”

“How’d I do?” he asked seriously, once he was packed away and they were settled into plush chairs and fresh drinks. His sincerity took her by surprise—this was the guy who’d headlined some pretty major venues (including the Viper Room), and he was concerned over his performance in a coffee shop?

“You were fantastic; why would you be anything else?”

He blushed and ducked his head down in that sweetly embarrassed move she’d seen so many times. “I’m just getting back into it. Couldn’t while I was in rehab, and just...didn’t want to once I got here.”

“How could you not? It’s such a huge part of your life.”

He shrugged. “It was also a reminder of everything I’d lost.”

She knew that all too well, and couldn’t really blame him. That was why she’d been so transient in the last decade, and why she never got too close to people. They always left and let her down. Save for Killian, she supposed, despite his erratic presence in her life.

“So what have you been doing?” she asked. It was easy to fill a life with working and moving, like she did; it was hard for her to imagine what someone did staying in one place for as long as he’d been here.

“Helping Liam with his business—he runs the marina. Done a lot of sailing, a lot of reading. And I’ve been seeing a therapist.”

“Good.”

“Aye,” he agreed, nodding. “It’s been good, but it wasn’t quite...fulfilling, I guess would be the right word. So both Liam and my doc both encouraged me to pick up playing again, to see if that would help.”

“And?”

“So far, so good,” he concluded with a smile. “I was denying myself my own happiness by avoiding it, despite all the bad memories.”

“Even though you got your heart broken?”

“If it can be broken, that means it still works.”

His revelation hit her like a sword in the gut. Again, she started rubbing her tattoo, thinking of that far-off dream she’d once had. Had she been denying herself the chance at it?

Was she too scared of getting hurt again to go after her happy ending? Was it even worth it?

Or, more accurately, was it worth it not to?

“Swan?” His worried voice made her realize she’d zoned out, and the furrow in his brow when she looked up was a bit more concern than she could handle in the wake of massive personal epiphany.

“I...I’ve gotta go, Killian, I’m sorry,” she sputtered as she stood. “I’ll call you, or find you, or something,” she added on, babbling. “Just...I need to...go.”

She didn’t turn around to see the fallen, distressed look on his face; she just went. She needed to think. Her trusty yellow Bug was waiting outside and she just drove for a while, finally stopping at a scenic overlook with a panoramic view of the harbor. She didn’t even leave her car; the sight was impressive enough from where she was seated. And she let Killian’s words sink in.

She’d once dreamed of a life where she’d feel happy and secure. Not one where she’d want for nothing—just one where she had what she needed. And maybe even one where someone chose her.

But life had thus far proven that it was just a dream and she was better on her own, scraping by and making do. Had she just gotten so used to it that it was her norm? Or was she scared that by opening herself to that possibility of a happy life again, she’d inevitably get her ass kicked by the world and would never recover?

The last time she’d seen Killian, he was utterly defeated. Thankfully, she’d never gotten that low, but he managed to overcome it. He had hope—she could see it shining in those blue eyes. If he could do it, why couldn’t she?

The sun slowly fell and it grew dark around her as she sat with her thoughts. An ancient streetlight eventually flickered to life above her, rousing her from her thought-filled trance, and she knew what she had to do.

Because there was one person who had never left her. One who always had faith in her and understood her. And if she was going to go after that mythical happy ending, she wanted him at her side.

The next day found her at the coffee shop yet again. She was a bit late after having breakfast with Henry, but she arrived just in time for the last couple songs of Killian’s set.

“Had to find some higher ground. Had some fear to get around.”

There he was again, reading her like a book. She’d wonder how he did that, but again—they just got each other. And she was ready to turn to the next page.

“Square one, my slate is clear. Rest your head on me my dear. It took a world of trouble, took a world of tears—it took a long time to get back here.”

Once he was packed up, he cautiously approached her. “You alright, love?”

“Will you go out with me?”

If her straightforwardness caught her by surprise, it nearly knocked him off his feet. He practically fell in the chair next to her. “Beg your pardon?”

“Go out with me. On a date.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking?”

“Don’t tell me you’re that old-fashioned, Jones.”

He chuckled. “I heartily accept, Swan.”

The date was perfect: good food, good wine, and a stroll under the stars—so many more in Storybooke than Boston, and the nerd pointed out some of the constellations to her.

The gentle kiss outside her rented room was even better. There was none of the awkwardness of Nashville, or the altered inhibitions. It just felt good and right and somehow perfect, like she’d been waiting for it forever, but hadn’t been ready yet.

She got a job in Storybrooke. She grew closer with Henry. She made more friends in town—Mary Margaret, the teacher; David, the vet; Belle, the librarian (and Liam’s wife). Once she gave in, once she let herself go after it, her happy ending settled around her—or maybe she was the one who settled into it.

Whichever it was didn’t matter; it was hers and it was real and she was never letting it go.

The cool wind whipped against her face from where she stood on the prow of the boat, but Killian’s strong arms held her close and kept her warm, and she leaned into his solid, sure presence that hadn’t wavered...well, ever, even when they were apart. His sweet voice sang in her ear and she knew—she finally had made it.

“You belong among the wildflowers.

You belong in a boat out at sea.

You belong with your love on your arm.

You belong somewhere you feel free.”

If you’d like to hear all the songs referenced in this, check out this playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AldoDm2bV04&list=PL7YAlVeSin3Kq_1xtetAI0rovPvp-6Wdk

tagging some others who might enjoy this: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @its-like-a-story-of-love @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @fairytalesandtimetravel @disastergirl @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose

#cs ff #cs modern au #tom petty #mryddinwilt #is amazing and wonderful and i love her #my ff

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