#i tried to include everyone and kept double checking that no one had added a new one lol!

[dhmis-autism]

hey guys :]

@sherbetyy @lulubeanie @krizkrozapplesoz  @dedfandom-xwx @idont-know-what-im-doing @four-of-crows @pubpyboy111

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Left at the Altar - Hangman (Part 3)

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Reader (Ex-Girlfriend!Reader)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Some Light Angst; References to Sex; Second Person POV ("You"), No Y/N, No Physical Descriptions of Reader

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: You struggle with your life back in Texas. Is California calling your name?

A.N. I double-checked and I'm pretty sure that I added everyone to the tag list who requested it and has their age on their blog, so hopefully this works.

Part 1 Part 2 Epilogue

Master List

Sitting on the couch of your childhood home, you held your wine glass close to your chest.

It was officially two days after you were left at the altar and the last forty-eight hours of your life were practically a blur.

After your night with Jake, you were forced to deal with reality. You moved out of the apartment that you shared with your ex and went through the process of literally cutting him out of your life one photo at a time. Literally. Your name wasn’t on the lease since you moved into your ex’s bigger apartment a few months ago, which worked to your advantage.

You dropped off anything to do with your wedding at your ex’s family’s home, including your wedding dress, since they paid for it and told them to do whatever the hell that they wanted with it. Or they could bring it back to you and you’d burn it.

And your last spiteful move against your ex was cancelling your honeymoon reservations and the extra ticket that he bought his mistress the night before they were supposed to fly out. And the best part was that they had already checked in. Your ex tried to angrily text and call you after he got to the airport, but you just blocked him and moved on.

And now here you were: moved into your childhood bedroom, with your life in a suitcase and a bunch of taped up cardboard boxes. Truly living life to the fullest. Well, at least you had some wine that your mom may or may not have stolen from the reception venue.

The night chill seeped through the screens on the windows and the back door and forced you to pull on a sweatshirt. It was one of Jake’s old faded UT ones that he got when you were both sixteen. He quickly grew out of it and you were happy to take it off of his hands. You kept it in the deepest corner of your closet when you were living with your ex-fiancé, but now, you wore it openly.

You thought that it would have been inappropriate to wear an ex-boyfriend’s sweatshirt in the apartment that you shared with your fiancé. Of course, you thought that fucking someone else would have qualified as inappropriate, but perhaps you didn’t have your priorities straight. You should have started wearing it months ago.

Taking a sip of your wine, you sighed and leaned back against the couch.

Even in the darkest days of your relationship with Jake, he never once degraded you like your ex-fiancé did. Sure, Jake could be an asshole and you were the first person to tell him that he was being an asshole, but he wasn’t irredeemable. He had his faults but his heart was always in the right place.

Your ex on the other hand; there was absolutely no way to justify his decision to break up with you over text on the morning of your wedding day. You were done with him and with the whole picture. Luckily, you already deleted and cut up all the remaining photos of the two of you together.

The sound of footsteps caused you to open your eyes and turn towards the stairs. Your mom slowly walked downstairs and smiled softly when she saw that you were still awake. Making her way over to you, she sat down beside you on the couch and squeezed your shoulder.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked softly.

“Something like that,” you replied, just as quietly.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” you answered honestly, trying to force a small smile.

“Did you hear from Jake?”

“Yeah, we’ve been texting a lot. He apologized for fact that he had to run out.” You nodded slowly, pursing your lips together as you let a breath out of your nose. “But it’s not his fault. That’s just how it always goes with the two of us.”

“Why does it have to work out like that?” your mom asked softly.

“That’s just how it’s always been, Mom. You know that,” you replied, turning to stare down at your wine glass. “When we’re together and alone, everything is perfect. Everything feels right and I never ever felt like that with someone else. But then reality hits and we have to go back to the paths that we picked and . . . we’re separated in the end again.”  

Your mom nodded solemnly, though her expression gave away her opinion on the subject. Straightening up, she glanced out the window at the rose bushes that sat right below your childhood bedroom window. The ones that were planted there for a very specific reason.

“I remember when your father bought those bushes,” your mom stated wistfully, causing you to pick your head up and turn around.

“You mean when he tried and break me and Jake up?” you mused, shaking your head.

“He was trying to prevent you from sneaking out and Jake from sneaking in,” your mom corrected you with a small smile. “And how well did that work?”

“Not even in the slightest,” you replied without skipping a beat. You smiled softly as you glanced out at the familiar bushes, working through some of the associated memories. “I remember when he fell into them one night. He showed up the next day to school looking like he lost a fight with a cactus. Told his parents and everyone that he fell off a skateboard and they somehow bought it.”

“And did he come back after that?”

“He might have,” you stated with a shrug, earning a look from your mom. “A few times.”

“Exactly,” your mom responded, folding her hands in her lap. “He kept coming back. He keeps coming back to you no matter what life throws in front of the two of you.”

“He does,” you agreed quietly.

“I mean, how many times have the two of you been in a relationship?”

“A few,” you replied, earning another look from your mom. “Seven or eight, depending on factors that I need to be a bit little drunker to discuss with you, Mom.”

“My point is,” your mom continued, resting a hand on your arm, “you two keep finding your way back to each other. Over and over again. And honey, I have to tell you this honestly. I’ve never seen you happier than you are when you’re with Jake. You could combine your love for all of your other exes and it still wouldn’t compare to the affection that you have for Jake. And we can all see that.”

“I know, Mom,” you replied softly, trying to not choke on your emotions. Letting out a breath, you sunk further into the couch. “I was so stupid for thinking that marrying anyone else was going to solve any of my problems. Or make me happy.”

“Well, the good news is that your ex looks like a complete ass and now you get to go on and live your fairytale without that burden on your shoulders,” your mom stated, squeezing your hand. “And, honey, I want you to have your fairytale. I want it for you so badly.”

“I know, Mom.”

“And I think that Jake is that person for you,” your mom reiterated, rubbing your arm soothingly. “You let him go and he let you go because you two loved each other and you wanted what was best for each other. But despite that, you two still found your way back together so many times that you can’t even keep track. And that sounds a lot like love to me.”

“I love him, Mom,” you confirmed for her. “I do. I love him so much.”

“Then why are you staying here?” your mom asked you, causing you to sit up more. “Honey, I know that you love living here, but I don’t want you to hold yourself back from your happiness because you’re scared of taking that first step out.”

You nodded slowly, not really sure what else to say. Your mom pulled you in for a hug. Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, like she did when you were a kid, she squeezed you tightly to her chest.

“I just want you to be happy, sweetheart,” your mom whispered to you. “And I know that I taught you to not rely on other people for your own happiness—and you still shouldn’t—but you always just seem happier when you’re with him.”

“I am happier when I’m with him, Mom,” you agreed, burying your face into her shoulder.  

“Then I think that you have your answer, sweetheart.”

~~~~~

After another long day at work, the Dagger Squad decided to go out for a cold beer together before taking some time for themselves. Except for Coyote, that is, who made some excuse about having to run a random errand.

It was a warm spring afternoon, so the Dagger Squad gathered out on the back deck to get away from the afternoon rush. Hangman glanced down at his phone frequently, waiting for your text. After your shared night in the honeymoon suite, the two of you had been texting frequently. Obviously, you were both busy, but you tried to text a few times a day.

But today, you weren’t answering. Jake didn’t want to jump to conclusions on anything, but it still struck him as odd. Especially because he knew that you had the next few days off because you were supposed to be on your now cancelled honeymoon.

“If you don’t put your phone down, you’re paying for the next round, Hangman,” Phoenix warned him, taking a long sip of her drink. “Remember Maverick’s rule?”

“He’s not here,” Hangman replied back, though he still stowed his phone away. “No need to try and win the teacher’s pet award.”

“Says the man who always sits in the front row of every briefing,” Bob spoke to his pilot’s defense.

“He’s got you there,” Phoenix stated with a proud smirk.

“You know, I think that I speak for everyone when I say how happy I am that the two of you chose to keep flying together,” Hangman replied sarcastically, reaching for his beer.

“You get crabby when Coyote’s not here to back you up,” Rooster quipped as Hangman took a swig of his beer. “Actually, you’ve been crabby for a while now.”

“Been hanging around you guys for too long,” Hangman replied without missing a beat, setting his beer down on the table.

“You just had a break from us,” Rooster pointed out, shifting in his seat.

“Wasn’t long enough,” Hangman stated, reaching for his phone again.

“Well, Coyote’s here to cheer you up,” Fanboy announced, staring down the boardwalk. Fanboy frowned slightly and straightened up a bit. “But he’s got a woman with him.”

That announcement got everyone else at the table to whip around to stare down the boardwalk. Coyote was, in fact, walking over with a woman. And who was that mysterious woman who may or may not have spent half an hour in an airport bathroom making sure that she didn’t look like she woke up at three that morning to get to the airport to get to San Diego?

You smiled softly and waved to Jake, who was completely shocked to see you in California. And, of course, you wore a sundress that he bought you. He felt obligated to get it for you after the two of you got a little handsy in a dressing room while you were trying it on.

“Who the hell is—” Rooster’s question was cut off by Hangman practically knocking over the entire table with how fast he got up from the table. “Jesus Christ,” Rooster complained as some beer spilled on his jeans. “Really, Hangman?”

But Jake was already bounding down the boardwalk, slipping around the tourists, civilians, and other naval personnel. The Daggers stared after Hangman with mildly confused expressions and curious stares. Except for Coyote, who grinned when he spotted Hangman hurrying over.

“You know,” Coyote told you with an amused smile, “I think that Javier is a very strong name for a baby boy. It rolls right off the tongue.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you promised Coyote with a small chuckle.

Coyote shot you a wink before walking towards the Hard Deck. Coyote sent Jake a mock salute that Jake returned before continuing on his way. You stopped in your approach since Jake was moving fast enough for the both of you and simply held out your arms.

The rest of the Daggers watched as Jake scooped you up into his arms and spun you around. You laughed and hugged him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist to avoid any risk of falling onto the weathered wood below.

“What are you doing here?” Jake breathed out, slowly placing you back on your feet.

“Well, I had a few days off,” you replied softly, smoothing down the creases on his shirt. “And so, I hopped on the first flight that I could get to San Diego. I thought that I would surprise you.”

“I’m certainly surprised,” Jake mused, resting his forehead against your own.

Gently guiding your chin towards his own, your lips met in a soft embrace. Jake wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You cupped his cheeks with your hands and deepened the kiss perhaps beyond what was respectable in public.

But hell, Miramar was a Navy town. This was far from the most indecent reunion kiss that this town had ever seen before.

Coyote walked over to where the other Daggers were gathered and took Hangman’s spot. If Coyote knew how Jake operated when you came to visit, he wasn’t going to need his seat back.

“Hangman has a girlfriend?” Bob asked Coyote curiously, assuming that he knew all.

“I think ‘girlfriend’ doesn’t really cover it anymore, honestly,” Coyote replied honestly.

Back on the boardwalk, you reluctantly pulled away from Hangman’s lips for a little air. Smiling goofily, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and just simply took in the fact that he was right here in front of you once again.

“How long are you in town for?” he asked you, slowly opening his eyes.

“Until Sunday,” you replied, meeting his gaze again. “So, we’ve got about five days together.”

“No time to waste then,” Hangman reasoned, picking up your bag from where you placed it on the ground. “This is it?”

“Yeah, I packed light because I needed to fly standby.”

“That’s fine. You won’t need to wear anything once we get back to my apartment,” Jake stated with a wink, earning a light smack to his arm.

Jake led you over to where his truck was parked. He put your bag in the backseat and handed you the keys. Jake sprinted back to the Hard Deck to pay his tab and gift Javy some beer for the surprise. Dancing around the invasive and curious questions from the rest of the Dagger Squad, Jake returned to your side as fast as he could.

“Ready?” he asked, shutting his door.

“Ready,” you agreed, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips.

Jake backed up out of the spot and started driving to his apartment. Once he put his truck back into drive, he reached over and grabbed your hand, threading your fingers together. You returned the gesture and squeezed his hand, trying to not melt into the seat when Jake pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I missed you,” you told him softly, smiling over at him.

“I love you,” he returned confidently.

“You always have to one-up me,” you sighed, shaking your head playfully. “But I love you too.”

“What’s not the love?” Jake replied with a playful wink.

“Did you want me to get out the list?”

“Harsh,” Jake stated, smirking a bit. “Don’t worry, I can think of a way that you can make it up to me.”

“I intend to . . . Lieutenant.”

Part 1 Part 2 Epilogue

A.N. I'm thinking that I might do an epilogue that's set a few months or years into the future. So, if you're not already on the tag list and want to be tagged in an epilogue, then reply or reblog with that request (though you must show that you're an adult with your age in your blog to get tagged). Thanks!

Tag List (First 50 since there's a limit):

@djs8891 @avengers-fixation @dreamsofouterspace @maverick-wingman @rosiahills22 @bethabear12 @laneylovesglen @blue-aconite @mercurio23 @awildewit @caitsymichelle13 @mamaskillerqueen @emorychase @the-romanian-is-bae @novagreen04 @gigisimsonmars @olliepig @laneyspaulding19 @clancycucumber230 @eli2447 @luckyladycreator2 @marantha @ashbatz @emilyoflanternhill @riri-is-agirlie @goslytherin @phantomxoxo @imaginecrushes @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @mizzzpink @miss-i-ship-it @topaz125 @healanette @sarahsmi13s @buckysdollforlife @looneylikesbooks @fighterpilothoe @lunamoonbby @fav-fanficssss @lorilane33 @angelbabyange @swanqueens-blog @ilovewriting06 @linkpk88 @mallerz @sky0401 @lunamooncole @potterheadandsherlocked @rogersbarnesxx @iammirrorball

[hugintheraven]

I posted 4,434 times in 2022

That's 1,637 more posts than 2021!

33 posts created (1%)

4,401 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hikari-ni-naritai

@jabberwockypie

@unpretty

@tooquirkytolose

@laikaspeaks

I tagged 2,212 of my posts in 2022

Only 50% of my posts had no tags

#q - 787 posts

#politics - 249 posts

#religion - 108 posts

#lgbtq - 92 posts

#dracula - 68 posts

#d&d - 54 posts

#science - 48 posts

#history - 44 posts

#about me - 38 posts

#linguistics - 35 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#it's impossible for me to actually figure out how good it is because every single possible change is infinitely better than jj's crap

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

So, some basic thoughts

The sequence of events is basically Chris Rock makes joke, then Will laughs while Jada looks hurt, then Will walks up and slaps Chris, then Chris tries to play it off, then Will says “Keep my wife’s name out of your fucking mouth” until Chris agrees.

So I think initially Will didn’t register the joke. He’s an actor at the Oscars, Smile and Laugh is basically his job for the night. Then he saw how Jada was taking it and reacted to that. Which I like. It makes the situation less “don’t insult MY wife” and more “don’t hurt the woman I love”. 

I also don’t think that was over the line. It was an extreme reaction, but this isn’t the first time she’s listened to jokes about her medical condition. It might be the last, though. Which appeals to me, honestly. It reminds me of high school, sometimes the only way to make people stop is to hurt someone. And Will kept it controlled. 

Honestly, a good reminder to all stand-up comedians, late night hosts, etc, there’s some jokes you shouldn’t make. Learn where the line is and stay on the right side of it. Or invest in a good dental plan, whichever. 

99 notes - Posted March 27, 2022

#4

Dracula Daily and Fanfic

So, I decided to look into AO3 and see what this fandom produced since the beginning of *gestures vaguely* ALL THIS. 

Historical context: Pre-2016, there were 166 fanfics total in the Dracula(Bram Stoker 1897) tag on AO3. 2016-2019, there was an average of 60 fics added to the tag per year. In 2020, Moffat dropped a BBC Dracula series and the fandom exploded, posting 242 fics in 1 year. 2021, things died down, only 156 fics posted, still far better than any pre-2020 year for the tag.

And in 2022, as of November 11, the tag has 320 new fics. Double last year, and the year’s not even over yet. Of those, 265 have been posted since May, which is more than the previous record year(Moffat), and this fandom did it in 6 months. Congratulations, that is legit impressive and I just want to say thank you to everyone involved. I hope to see more fanfics added to that list so that I have to revise my numbers even further in 2 months.

Now, some disclaimers. This data was gathered manually so I may have messed up some marginal things, and the practice of uploading other archives and backdating fics makes it more confusing. I have also not excluded crossovers. This means that this definitely includes some works based on the 2013 TV show(for example) that were tagged with this fandom as well, but defining a crossover in a useful way for my purposes here seems difficult. And I only checked the Bram Stoker Dracula tag, because the “All Works” Dracula tag will include plenty of other unrelated works. And of course, there’s fanfics that are in the tag for this year that aren’t Daily-related. But the conclusion is pretty clear anyway, this was a good year for Dracula fanfic.

181 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

#3

So, that one 911 scene is based on a true story

See the full post

223 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

#2

Summer is coming

Do NOT leave anything in your car that you aren’t willing to see melt. That includes pets and children. Yes, you’ll “just be 5 minutes”, but then there’s a line. You get some poor retail worker on their first day. And then you get back to your car and it’s 115 degrees inside. Don’t do that. Small creatures can’t regulate their temperatures as effectively as you, they can overheat and die very quickly. Bring them with you or leave them home, do not leave anything in your car. 

1,868 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Oh look, there’s a reason Elon’s suddenly become so transphobic recently. One of his 18 year old kids just filed name change paperwork. She’s going by Vivian Wilson now. All the support for her, and given how he’s behaved about this, hopefully one of Elon’s rockets screws up and renders him no longer anyone else’s problem. 

2,648 notes - Posted June 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[bebepac]

The Double Date Mistake?

I am participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt # 92 “I don’t think that was meant to go there.” will appear in bold.

This is also chapter 2 of The Meet:  To catch up on what you’ve been missing of the Meet so far Please click:  The Meet Masterlist

Original Post Date: 05/01/2021 at 3:15PM

The Book:  TRR

The Pairing:  Liam x F!OC (Liam x Jilian) 

Word Count: 1948

Summary: Jilian goes on a double date with Bebe and meets Leo for the very first time.  Jilian and Bebe share how they first met each other to the guys.  

Warnings: Sexual innuendos.  Profanity.  

Leo and Liam belong to pixelberry, Jilian belongs to @queenjilian borrowed for the duration of this series. All others are my own to help us tell the story.  

“And done. He has your number now Jili. Now fly my little birdies fly.”  

She thought he would text right away but he didn’t.  The whole way to Bebe’s apartment the twenty minute drive Jili’s phone was silent.

Bebe looked at Jili as she glanced at her phone.  What the actual hell?

She texted Jilian.

“Bebe why the hell are you texting me? I’m sitting right next to you?”

“I was just making sure your phone was on.”  

“I mean he’s still working Bebe.  He can’t just drop everything and just start texting away.”

“The hell he can’t. What in the actual fuck is wrong with you bruh?” Bebe grumbled as she angrily typed on her phone.

“Wing Woman are you trying to crash this plane?”

“The mother  hasn’t even taken off yet with you two trying to pilot it. I’m gonna need you to get your life together Jili.”  

The driver pulled to a stop. “Damn I really wanted to see how this turned out.”

Bebe got out of the car in a huff.

“I’ll let you know.”   Jili called out the window to her.

Jilian wasn’t going to let it stress her out.  He was still at work. She knew her job got busy at times, and she couldn’t just sit on her phone and do nothing.  As she was walking up the stairs to scan her door key fob, the phone rang.

It was a local number she didn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Jilian. It’s Liam.”

“Hi Liam.”

“I apologize for not texting or calling sooner.  Things got busy at work.”

“Oh I figured that was what happened.”  

"Bebe is something else. I feel a little attacked. I can tell it's from a place of love though."

"She's my best friend Liam. My true sister from another mister."

"So it's safe to assume you are single?" Liam inquired.

"I am, and for you the same?"

"Yes Jilian I am. Is it forward of me to say maybe we can change that for each other. I would really like to see you again. I'm off next Friday would you be free then?"

Jilian sighed.

"Friday is my date night."

"Oh. I just assumed you being single you weren’t seeing anybody even casually."

"With Bebe. We restaurant hop. We're self proclaimed foodies. 

Do you have any friends maybe we could double?”

“My brother, both him and Bebe have big personalities, I think they’d really get along.  Think she would be okay with that?”

“Yeah I think I could convince her.”  

They continued to talk, and about everything under the sun.  Liam was funny and witty and kept her attention.

She began to realize how much she had in common with the charming Liam Rys.  

She had cuddled into her bed under her covers laughing and chatting with him.  She finally rolled over realizing it was almost dawn.

“Oh my God! Is that the sun?!?!?!” she shrieked, surprised into the phone.

“I’m so sorry Jilian I completely lost track of time.”

“I have to go, I have to be at work in forty five minutes!!!”

Jilian said her goodbyes to Liam and hurried to work.  

Right when Jilian was sitting in her office reading over her chart  for her first patient’s checkup, there was a delivery.  

A large coffee drink had been delivered to her with a sweet gooey cinnamon bun.

“Gift for you Jilian Winchester.”  

Liam was really sweet.

She texted him thank you.

He had let her know he had an extra espresso shot added to her coffee.

Liam was a lifesaver.  

*^*^*^*^* The Double Date *^**^*^*^*

When Jili and Bebe got to the restaurant  Liam and Leo were already seated at the table both stood to greet them.  

Liam softly kissed  Jili’s cheek.  

Bebe glanced at Leo.  He was cute, but he was probably about five inches shorter than Bebe, not to mention Bebe was wearing heels making her tower over Leo.

Liam changed the subject breaking the ice between everyone, and the conversation between the couples started flowing.  

Jilian slipped in the subject of Liam and Leo honestly not looking much like each other.  

“We’re half brothers, we have different mothers. But don’t get it twisted Bebe.  I can scale you like Mount Everest. Taller women don’t intimidate me one bit.”

“Um….thank you for that blatant honesty…. Jili will you accompany me to the restroom please?”  

“Excuse us for a moment.”  Jili smiled politely.  

“Absolutely not Jili!!!!!”  Bebe was adamant when the door to the bathroom closed.  

“Bebe I didn’t know!  I swear when he said older brother, I was thinking he looked like him.  You would think older brothers are taller, bigger, and wiser. He is funny though.  You two do have similar personalities. Maybe try to focus on that Bee.  Let’s just try to have a fun time.  You don’t have to see Leo again.  But I know I want to see Liam again. I like him.”  

“You owe me big for this!!!”

Both women come back to the table.  Their drink orders had arrived.  Bebe takes a long sip on her drink.  

“That’s what I’m talking about!”  Leo smiled.  “A girl after my own heart.”  

“How did you and Bebe meet Jilian?”  

“We actually met in NOLA. We were both presenting at a medical conference.  Bebe for the Pharma side, because she’s a pharmacist,  and me for medical for being a nurse practitioner focused in the at risk population.”

Leo eyes flit to Bebe.

“So you’re a drug dealer?”  

Bebe smiled.  “ Legal Drug Dealer. Yep, that’s what I call myself. I’m slinging pills to pay the bills.”  

“I can dig it.”  

“We met the night before our conference began, in a bar.”  

When Jilian walked into the bar she noticed her right away.  There was a woman at the bar,  drinking her drink telling what appeared to be a funny story that had multiple people’s attention.  All were laughing with her.   She had to be a local. Jili thought.  

She had strings of beads around her neck.  

“What can I get ya?”  the bartender asked.  

She looked at Bebe.  “I want whatever she’s having.”  Bebe was the life of the party.  

“Well I did a little pre-gaming at the drive through daiquiri shop though. 

But mostly Hurricanes.  Get her a Hurricane Sal.”  

The bartender winked at Bebe.  

“Don’t skimp on the good stuff either!”  She yelled out.

Jilian’s eyes widened when the bartender  brought her the drink.

Bebe held up her glass to clink with Jilian’s glass.

“Laissez le bon temps rouler!!!!!”   The crowd screamed in agreement at Bebe’s declaration.

“What?”  

“LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!!!!!”  

Jilian took a long drink of the cocktail.  No wonder.  

“Yep! You like it.  I’m Bebe, what’s your name?”

“Jilian.”  

“I’m gonna call you Jili.  What brings you to NOLA?”  

“Work, a conference.”  

“Bleh you said the “W.” word.  That’s not existing in my life right now.  We’re here, we’re alive, no regrets Jili.  Let your hair down and enjoy yourself.  I mean literally.  That bun is a buzz kill.”  

Jili pulled the pins out of her hair shaking out her locks.  

“So much better!!!! You’re a babe!!!  See they’re already looking at you differently.  We’re not interested though.  Unless they’re buying more drinks.”  

Jili glanced at the guys that were now looking in her direction.  

“You’ve got a lot of bead necklaces going on.”   Jili commented.  

“There are two ways to get beads in NOLA.  Buy them or earn them.”

Jili looked at Bebe and raised her eyebrow with a smile.

“Let me guess, your ass hasn’t spent a dime tonight.”  

Bebe took a long sip of her hurricane.  

“Nope.  Not a single dime.  Including alcohol.  I'll tell you what Jili.  Life’s too short.  I’m not going to regret any of my choices.  I spent a year in Costa Rica, living my life Pura Vida.”

“Pure Life.”  Jilian smiled.  Bebe was a carefree spirit, and people gravitated to her.

“We’re only here for a blink Jili.  How do you want your story to be told?”

She decided to throw caution to the wind and party the night away with Bebe.

Jilian’s alarm went off the next morning.  She was incredibly hung over as she tried to pull herself together.  

She had a random memory of her and Bebe walking down  Bourbon Street singing “Lean on Me”  while they were linked arm and arm.  The drunk leading the more drunk back to the hotel.

She smiled, straightening her black business suit.  She was about to pull her hair up into her signature bun but decided to let her tresses fall free instead.  

As she was getting checked into the convention she slipped her ID badge and program of speakers, herself among the list.  

She heard her laugh.  Jili whipped her head around and saw Bebe at the back of the line with two others.  Bebe was wearing a bright pink business suit, and her shoes and clutch had the print of medications on it.  

“The legal drug dealers have arrived!!!! Big Pharma in da house!!!!!!”  

Jili laughed, shaking her head.  

“That’s how we met Liam.”  

“We found out later we lived near each other, and made plans to meet up.  Been friends ever since.  That was like six years ago.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask us how we met.”  Leo asked.

“I assume you are brothers…. You met… at birth?”

Bebe shook her head at Leo.

Everyone was calm after not to mention the alcohol free flowing.  They headed to  a lounge after dinner, called Blue Notes.  The music there was full of soul and blues.  

The drinks continued. The music there stirred the soul.  

“May I have this dance?”  Jili nodded, taking Liam’s hand.   He held her close.  

Leo eyed Bebe.   “You know, I have always been one to have a huge case of FOMO.  So you and me let’s hit the dance floor too.”  

Bebe downed her drink in one swallow.  “Why the hell not.”  

They walked out to the dance floor.  With Bebe’s high heels Leo was chest level to her.  He pulled her close resting his head on her bosom.

“Um….so we’re doing this… okay…”  Bebe looked surprised but she was smiling.

Liam laughed softly when he glanced in their direction.

“I don’t think that was meant to go there.”  

“The height difference honestly never crossed my mind Jilian.  Things seemed really awkward for them for a bit, for more so Bebe.  Not so awkward now.”  

Bebe and Leo were looking at each other laughing.

“You know this is never going to happen Leo Rys.”  

“A man can dream.  Well….It could happen for the night.  I can tell you’re curious. Let me tickle your fancy tonight.”

Bebe laughed harder at him.  “You don’t give up do you Leo?”

“Nope because I get what I want.”    

“If nothing else Jilian, I think they will at least be friends from this, if nothing romantic happens.”

The next morning Liam was cooking  breakfast when Bebe walked out of Leo’s room. Leo’s sweatpants looked like capris on Bebe.  

“Good Morning Bebe. Would you like some breakfast?”  

“Sure.”

Leo walked out of the room a few minutes later.  

Liam smiled looking at the two of them.  

“Breakfast Leo?”  

“I already ate.”  Leo winked at Bebe.

Bebe choked on her orange juice.  

“Oh you were talking about bacon and eggs, sure.”  

Nope not at all awkward at all.  Liam thought as he fixed plates for himself Leo and Bebe.

Bebe was climbing in her ride share when her phone rang.

“Bebe… Liam just told me you had breakfast with him and Leo… at his apartment.  You spent the night with Leo?”  

“Leo was right, Jili.  Not all of him is fun sized.”

Tags in the comments !!!! 

[moldisgoodforyou]

barcelona (ii)

wordcount: 2.3k

_______

Sophie introduced him to the whole group, then separately to her roommates all sitting together at the top of the table. “This is Isobel,” she nodded, “this is Andrea,” she waved, “and this is Juliet,” she smiled. 

Rafe nodded, smiling at the three of them. “Isabelle -” 

“Isobel.” She corrected. “Ee-so-belle.” 

“Ee-so-belle.” He repeated slowly, trying with the accent. “Sorry, I’ll remember that. And you’re Andrea, and you’re Juliet.” 

“Rafe, do you always show up late to places?” Isobel asked him with a stern look, nudging Sophie under the table. She tried her best to hold back a grin as he shook his head quickly, the tips of his ears turning red. “No, um, sorry, we got held up by the - the subway -” 

“The metro.” Sophie corrected calmly. 

“Yes! The metro. Sorry, uh, jetlag.” Rafe tried, looking nervous. 

“Uh huh.” She nodded, trying to seem unconvinced, and Andrea snorted into her mimosa, making all of them laugh. “Andrea!” 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep it up!” 

Rafe glanced between the four girls, confused. “Keep what up?”

Sophie grinned, squeezing his leg under the table. “I told them they could grill you a little. Andrea just has no poker face.” 

“We’ve heard so much about you, I feel like we already know each other.” Juliet told him with a welcoming smile. 

The girls all nodded in agreement and Sophie beamed at their approval, letting them go on with stories about their antics as roommates, like when Juliet had set off the fire alarm while smoking - three times - and when Andrea brought a boy over and he turned out to be a total bust, so they girls had to make up an excuse to rescue her from the awkward situation. As Isobel reached across the table for the salt, Rafe noticed a small carnation tattooed just below the inside of her elbow, still a little red. “I like that, is it new?” 

“It is!” She nodded down the table. “Mateo just did some of them for us last week. Oh my god, Sophie, do you remember like a month ago -” 

Sophie shook her head quickly, sending her a pointed glare. “I don’t remember. Anything. Ever.” 

Andrea hid a giggle behind her napkin at the way Sophie’s cheeks went red, and Juliet smirked. “The initials R.C. don’t ring a bell?” 

“Stoooop.” She whined and Rafe caught on quickly, grinning. “Was that when she tried to get the tattoo on her hip?” 

“Yes!” Andrea exclaimed, laughing. “Oh my god, it was like five inches tall and looked like it’d been written by a primary schooler.” 

“You were determined.” Isobel grinned, poking Sophie in the side and put on a poorly done American accent to mimic her. “Nooo, guys, I hafta get it!” 

Juliet joined in, her American accent even worse. “I’ve only had four drinks, I’m fine! Like, sober!” 

“That was with Sebastian’s heavy pour, too.” Andrea added, laughing. “I think we got to know a little too much about you that night.” 

“Alright, that’s enough.” Sophie was bright red now and nudged her elbow into Rafe’s side when he went to ask another question. “I FaceTimed him that night, he saw how bad it was.” 

“I’m so glad you didn’t get it.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“Besides, she already has the ring, it’s not like she needed that to ward any guys off.” Isobel pointed out nonchalantly and Sophie bit her lip, trying to be subtle as she hid her hand under the table and switched her ring from her ring finger back to her middle, something she’d forgotten to do in her haste to pick him up from the airport. 

Rafe noticed immediately, of course, but chose not to comment. “Maybe a temporary tattoo instead.” He teased, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. When their waiter came back around to take everyone’s real food order instead of just adding to their sangria, most of the table ordered in Spanish with ease, including Sophie. 

 She looked to him to explain his order but he straightened up a little, clearing his throat. “Uh, hola! Yo comer los huevos con chorizo, por favor.” He gave the waiter a proud smile and Isobel had to hide a snort in her napkin at his horrible pronunciation and grammar - it was as butchered as possible. The waiter furrowed his brow a little and Sophie subtly pointed at his option on the menu. The waiter laughed, clapped Rafe on the shoulder and told him - in a nearly-perfect American accent - “Welcome to Spain, buddy.” 

“Since when do you speak Spanish?” Sophie held back a grin, not wanting to burst Rafe’s bubble. 

He beamed, taking it as a compliment. “I did a little studying over the summer.” 

“It wasn’t horrible!” Juliet chimed in with an encouraging smile, not noticing Rafe’s face drop. Sophie winced and kissed his cheek. “It’s alright, we’ll practice. The idea’s there.” 

He kept his voice down, turning to her with a curious look. “You mean it? It wasn’t bad?” 

“No! Not really. I mean, some things could use some work, but you have like, the basic foundation -” 

“Sophie. No lying.” 

“I’ve never lied to you.” 

“Oh, bullshit - you’ve lied so many times -” 

“Pre-relationship does not count!” She exclaimed, grinning as she swatted him with her napkin. “We agreed. No bringing that up.” 

He grinned back, poking her side. “What, are you trying to hide our sordid past from your roommates?” 

She fixed him with a cross look, shaking her head. “Sordid hardly describes it. Just a few arguments here and there, that was all.” 

“Ah, you seem to have a selective memory.” He smirked and squeezed her knee under the table. “You hated me.” 

She frowned. “I never hated you. Just, maybe, didn’t like you sometimes.” 

“Understatement of the century.” He trailed his hand up her thigh and she pushed his hand away, giving him a warning look. “Rafe Cameron.” 

He just gave her a smile and moved his hand back to her knee until their food arrived. 

_____

Three packed days later of showing Rafe around, Sophie had to say a tearful goodbye to her roommates. It was hard for her to leave her newfound friends she’d grown so close to, but they promised they’d see her again - they’d all applied early for graduate programs scattered throughout the US, some starting as early as January. 

Somehow, after a lot of persuading over the summer, Sophie had convinced Rafe to rent a car and drive to Nice in France. It was a little over six hours of a drive and along the coastline, and he couldn’t say no to her after she’d sent multiple photos of the coast and fancy cars they could rent too. After loading everything into the car and carefully adjusting the short driver’s seat, Rafe grinned over at her. “Ready to go?” 

“Yes, but I have something for you.” She reached into the backseat and pulled a wrapped box out of her tote bag, practically buzzing with excitement. “I know your birthday won’t be until we’re in Rome, but I think you’d like this now. The rest of your gift is back in Ohio though.” 

He took the box, fixing her with a playfully stern look. “I thought I told you no presents? Just being here with you is enough.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t listen. Open it.”

He opened it curiously, then grinned when he saw the camcorder printed on the box. He’d mentioned earlier in the summer how he’d like to have something that wasn’t just his phone to document senior year, and then to be able to edit the footage together into little montages each month. Of course, she’d listened and found the perfect gift. “You remembered!” 

“It’s the right kind, I think, but double check for me?” She asked, urging him to open the box. “I did a lot of research making sure it was the right one.” 

He took the camera out and inspected it, nodding. “It’s perfect. I love it, Sophie, thank you.” He turned to her and smacked a kiss to her cheek, grinning when she turned her head and caught his lips with hers. 

“You’re welcome. I was going to wait, but figured you could take videos of our trip and everything.” She beamed. 

Rafe’s grin morphed into a smirk as he flipped the camera on, pointing it toward her. “Is the rest of the present that we’re making a sex tape?” 

She immediately rolled her eyes, huffing as she reached for the camera. “Okay. You just ruined the moment, good job.” 

He laughed, pushing her hand away and put it back in the box. “Thank you, for real. It’s awesome.” 

She took the box and put it back in the backseat, smiling. “Welcome. Happy early birthday, old man.” 

Rafe started up the car and flicked on the radio, handing Sophie his phone loaded up with their directions. “Twenty-two is hardly old.” 

“Ancient.” She laughed. “Alright, this says we’ll get there by two, so just in time to check in to the hostel and we can stop to eat halfway. Feel okay about driving? Because I can trade with you -”

“Absolutely not. And, uh, about the hostel.” He kept his eyes on the road as he drove. 

“I thought I sent you all the information, you said you’d book it -”

“No, no, not that, I have everything covered. Just.” He tapped his fingers on the wheel. 

“Just?” She cocked her head curiously.

“I may have gone a different route for accommodation in Nice.” 

“Rafe. I said I’d pay for my things.” 

He didn’t need to glance over at her to feel her slow-building annoyance, but did anyways. “I know! I know. I was just thinking, we’re going to the beach and we’ll be all sandy and whatever afterward, it might be nice to have a real hotel and our own bathroom. Just for there, I booked the hostels for Italy.” 

“Just for there.” She repeated, skeptical.

He nodded to confirm. “We’ve just  been so busy with everyone - which I totally understand - but I thought it’d be nice to have it be just us for a few days.” 

She considered it for a moment - he did make a great point. “I can transfer money from my savings to cover my half.” 

“No.” 

“Rafe.” 

“I’m serious, Sophie, no. The hostels, fine, but not for Nice.” He declared. He’d chosen a boutique hotel instead of a big expensive chain hotel in hopes that would hide how much he spent, so she didn’t question it.

She frowned, crossing her arms. “I really don’t want to fight over this, baby, but I told you -” 

“So don’t fight. I’ve got it.” He reached over and rested his hand on her knee and squeezed it reassuringly. “Ward gave me extra money.” 

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Ward gave you extra money to spend on your trip with me? I’m supposed to believe that? I don’t think he even knows my name still.” 

“Well.” He paused, nodding. “Not exactly for the trip, he just put double in my account for my birthday month. I think he feels a little guilty, last year he forgot.” Rafe tried to force a laugh, but it came out more pained than he wanted. 

She frowned and reached over to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “He forgot your birthday? Seriously?” 

“Yeah. It’s no big deal, happens. Anyways, um. I’m not letting you pay for it.” 

She could tell he was growing uncomfortable talking more about Ward and nodded. “Okay. Fine, but just this once.” She gave him a small smirk. “You think the walls are thin?” 

“I think the building is structurally sound, baby.” He gave her a confused glance. 

She laughed, shaking her head. “That is so not what I meant.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Think harder.” 

He furrowed his brow for a moment, then shook his head. “I give up.” 

“We only had sex once since we’ve been back together.” 

“What does that have to do with thin walls - ohhhh. Right. You know, sometimes I forget how dirty you are, I appreciate the reminder.” He grinned and she tugged on the ends of his hair, rolling her eyes. “Fuck off, you are too.” 

“Think we could pull over when we make it to France and have a quickie on the side of the road?” 

She raised her eyebrows, skeptical. “Do you speak enough French to get us out of trouble if we get caught and arrested?” 

“Minor details.” Rafe laughed, nudging his head back into her hand a little so she’d start playing with his hair again. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” She responded, scratching his head lightly. 

“I love you. So damn much.” 

Sophie beamed and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “Love you too, fool. I’m glad you’re here.” 

He grinned widely. “Yeah? Me too. I really hated being away from you.” 

She frowned, just a little. “At least you had your internship to distract you though, right?” 

“I was too damn nervous about Brooklyn doing something to fuck us up half the time.” He confessed. “I’m really sorry she kissed me, I should have known -”

“Quit.” She cut him off firmly. “I don’t want to hear a single thing about her on this trip, and I especially don’t want to hear apologies for that. Not your fault.” 

He bit this inside of his cheek, sparing a glance over at her. “You mean it?” 

“Of course I mean it. I’m glad you’re willing to tell me, but it’s over with. Quit stressing.” 

“I wasn’t stressing -”

“You’re too easy to read, baby.” She flicked the back of his neck and he yelped, laughing. “I am not.” 

“You absolutely are, you wear your heart on your sleeve and I love you for that.” Sophie grinned. “No more talking about her.” 

“Jealous.” He quipped, smiling over at her. 

“Damn straight.” 

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney

[a-singleboat]

LA Girl

Word Count: 3.5k

Request: Since requests are open, can I ask for one where Shayne Topp has secretly been dating an Alt girl (piercings, coloured hair, tattoos ect) for months and she has anxiety and is nervous about meeting the squad as she feels like they’re gonna judge her for being so different to him so Shayne introduces her to Damien first alone and Damien automatically likes her and they click really well so she tells him she’s ready to go public and meet the rest of the squad and they all accept her?❤️ - Anon

A/N: I hope you guys like this! It took me a while to conceptualize it at first but then the rest came pretty naturally :D

Warning(s): Mentions of oral sex (male receiving), swearing, mentions of sex, self deprecating thoughts

You never really liked living in Los Angeles. Most days it was too bright and there were too many people, too many tourists. Yeah, you hated living here. That is, of course, until you met Shayne. 

At first, it appeared that you and Shayne were as different as night and day. Literally. He was the perfect LA Boy, with his blonde hair and his trim physique, always looking like the sun while you… you liked your dark colors and vibrant hairstyles, not to mention your multitudes of piercings and tattoos. In the mornings that you did spend together, Shayne liked to trace them with the tips of his fingers before the day started. 

These past few months with Shayne have been euphoric, for lack of better words. It seemed you were forever stuck in your honeymoon phase together but even you knew that it couldn’t last forever. The first fight you’d have, the first disagreement, stemmed from your own insecurities. 

As you’d mentioned before, Shayne looked like the perfect LA Boy, as did the rest of his friends. He didn’t stand out while walking the length of Hollywood Boulevard and he certainly didn’t catch any of the police officer’s eyes when he went to the bank. 

Which is why you weren’t so sure you wanted to meet them, his friends that is. You were sure that they would judge you for your alternative fashion choices, just like everyone else did. 

“They’re not like that,” Shayne tried to convince you for the umpteenth time that day. You had just finished washing the dishes, using your day off to catch up on chores you’d neglected during the week. Shayne was supposed to be completing his coursework for his degree but instead he’d decided to pester you with this topic once more. 

“My friends are super supportive and they just want to meet you,” he tried again. “And if they say anything then they’re not really my friends. They’ll love you, I promise.”

You picked up the laundry basket full of clean clothes from beside your front door, dumping the basket out on the couch. You cleared off a small section on the coffee table so that you could fold your laundry. 

“I’m just worried,” you confessed, folding a cropped shirt in half twice before dropping it into the laundry basket. “You say that they’re supportive and that they just want to meet me but you also just said, ‘if they say anything.’ Shayne, if I really didn’t have a reason to worry, you wouldn’t have thrown that in there.” 

“Okay, that was my bad,” he admitted, “but I’m serious. You have nothing to worry about, they’ll all love you.”

You gave him a weary look, folding a pair of black cargo pants over your arm. A few weeks ago, you’d met Shayne’s parents and while they were two of the most loving and welcoming people you had met, you could still see the discomfort and unease hidden behind their eyes. They expected someone different, with less tattoos and piercings most likely. They probably weren’t expecting their blonde baby boy to be with a neon-pink-haired twenty-something with daddy issues galore. 

“Okay, how about this,” Shayne took the pants from your hands, folding them and setting them onto the coffee table. “I’ll invite Damien over to mine for dinner tonight as a tester. If everything goes well with him, then maybe you’ll consider meeting everyone else?”

You took up your cargo pants once more, settling them in the laundry basket with the rest of your folded clothing. You had less than half the original pile left, the rest of the clothing being mainly bras and socks that still needed to be sorted. 

“Okay,” you gave in. What was the worst that could happen?

As it turns out, completely forgetting that Damien was due to arrive any moment at Shayne’s apartment was the worst thing that could happen. His best friend’s first impression of you would forever be this: you on your knees with Shayne’s dick halfway down your throat while you gave him a before-dinner blowjob. 

Embarrassment burned through your entire being as Damien realized what was happening before he closed the front door and called out, “I’m so sorry, I should have knocked!” 

You looked up at Shayne who couldn’t decide between being mortified and being smug. It took everything within your power not to punch him in the dick, considering it was literally right there in front of you. 

“Go… take care of yourself,” you awkwardly chuckled, patting his thigh lightly. “I’ll let your friend in and hopefully not die from embarrassment on the way.” 

Shayne scrambled up off the couch and into his bathroom while you opened the container of mints you kept under the coffee table for these types of instances. Not that you and Shayne expected people to walk in during any of that normally. You washed your hands at the sink while you chewed the mint, giving yourself a moment to breathe before even thinking about opening the door.

Once you’d calmed down enough, you opened the door for Damien, unable to meet his eye as you let him in. 

“Uh, sorry you had to see any of that…” You closed the door behind him, double checking the lock to make sure it was still working. “We don’t usually do it out here, um--”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Damien tried to save the night. “It’s not like I haven’t seen Shayne’s dick before--I mean--Not in the way you’d think--”

The two of you dissolved into laughter, still thinking of a way to dig your way out of the hole you’d awkwardly made. When Shayne was telling you about Damien, he did mention that he was possibly the most awkward of his friends which made him the perfect ‘test monkey’ for the night. 

“I should’ve knocked,” Damien settled, an apologetic look on his face. “Shayne gave me a key a while back and I usually just let myself in but that’s really no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Shayne had also mentioned Damien was the most polite out of them all. Not that the others weren’t polite, because they were. He had meant it in the way that Damien would apologize for existing if he could (which he has done before). 

“It’s okay, really. Though, we might have to tweak the story of how we met for future conversations.” You made your way into Shayne’s little kitchenette. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Water is fine,” Damien said, moving to sit in one of the chairs at the high table. You grimaced at the couch, making a mental note to grab some disinfectant once Shayne came out of the bathroom. “And yeah, we’ll just leave that part out for future retellings.”

You pulled a glass from one of the cabinets, filling it with water from the Brita. You added a few ice cubes as well, smiling as they clinked against the sides of the glass. 

“So, how did you and Shayne meet?” Damien asked, thanking you for the glass. You took up the other seat, crossing your right leg over your left. 

“At the tattoo shop I work at, actually,” you played with the end of your belt, twisting the fabric over your hand until it covered your knuckles. For this meeting, you’d decided to tone down your wardrobe--less chains and more softer fabrics. Your pleated skirt had been exchanged for the black cargo pants you’d folded earlier. That paired with a simple side release buckle belt and a structured white top for contrast, this was probably the most “tame” you’ve dressed in a while. 

“He came in with another friend of his, Paul, and sat with him while I worked on a piece for his sleeve. After that, I gave him my number in case he ever wanted to get a tattoo himself and the rest is history.”

“I can’t believe Paul technically met you before I did,” Damien said in disbelief. You heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on which meant your boyfriend would be joining the two of you soon. 

The awkwardness between you and Damien had faded slightly but you could still feel the tension in the air. Shayne opened the bathroom door and you looked over your shoulder to watch as your no longer disheveled boyfriend entered the room. He’d changed his pants, which was fair, and he was holding the disinfectant in hand as if he’d read your mind. 

You hopped off the seat and took it from him, spraying down the entire couch while he greeted his friend. 

“Really sorry you had to see that,” Shayne said, laughing as they clapped their hands together. “We would have disinfected the couch either way, just so you know.” 

Damien laughed as you finished cleaning off the couch, setting the disinfectant on the coffee table. You couldn’t be bothered with putting it away in the bathroom right now. 

“Well, this is Y/n, my girlfriend,” Shayne pulled on your arm until you settled into his side. You gave a small wave. “And she made Italian for dinner so unless you now want nothing to do with me, we can start eating now.” 

“Sounds great.”

Once you actually got over the initial awkwardness, your night actually turned out enjoyable. Damien was extremely funny and nice, just like Shayne had said. He’d even asked about your job and your own tattoos, expressing his own thoughts about getting one or two done himself. 

“If you get it done at my shop, I can get you a discount,” you offered, taking a sip of your water. “Friends and family get twenty-percent off, though that doesn’t include the tip.” 

“Really?” Damien asked. He looked shocked that you’d even offer to tattoo him, let alone provide him with a discount. 

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Just let me know when and we can set up an appointment.” 

“That’d be amazing.”

The three of you were sitting on the couch now, you and Shayne sitting on the side closest to the window while Damien was on the other end. His body was angled toward the two of you as “The Office” played quietly in the background. 

“Does this mean I’ll be seeing you around more?” Damien asked. “Shayne always comes alone to out-of-work get-togethers and Courtney’s been pestering him to bring you around for some time now.”

“She has?” you looked up at Shayne, asking if that was true. 

He nodded. “Why do you think I’ve been so insistent on getting you to meet my friends? They all want to meet you.”

“It doesn’t help that you’re all he talks about,” Damien chuckled. “I swear, every other word from his mouth is something about you. Whether it’s wondering what you’re doing to wondering how you’re doing, it’s always about you.” 

You reached up and patted Shayne’s cheek lightly. “Aw, babe. You think about me? How embarrassing.”

  He swatted your hand away, chuckling as you giggled at the shared joke between you. 

You talked for a little longer, sharing stories between the three of you before Damien caught sight of the time. 

“I should get going,” he said, standing up. You got up as well, giving him a hug before letting him and Shayne say their goodbyes. Once Damien had left the apartment completely, you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, you shoulder relaxing. While Shayne was an extrovert, you found yourself physically and mentally drained from hanging out with just one person. 

The entire experience was new for you. Since you’d started dressing how you wanted to dress and expressing yourself accordingly, there have been people less than willing to be nice to you or show you any sort of kindness. It was mostly linked to the fact that people thought that if you wore black, put on lots of make-up, had piercings, and had tattoos you were a bad person and an even worse role model. Not only was that hurtful, it made you very self conscious about meeting new people. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Shayne said, pulling you in for a hug. You sunk into his arms, wrapping your own arms around his torso. 

“It wasn’t terrible,” you replied, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. You turned your head sideways so that you could hear his steady heartbeat, allowing it to lull you into what felt like security. “Though, the beginning could have been better.” 

“We’re never speaking of the beginning again.”

“Agreed.”

Shayne started to sway with you in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before letting go. “So how do you feel about going to brunch with the rest of my friends on Saturday?”

After meeting Damien, your anxiety had subsided. No longer did you think you would be judged for the type of clothes you chose to wear but this time the anxiety of meeting so many people at once surfaced. When you didn’t respond, he looked down at you worried. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I just…” If you said what you were thinking out loud, you knew you were going to sound ridiculous. “It’s nothing.”

“No, really,” he frowned, “tell me what’s wrong. Bottling it all up inside won’t work this time.” 

You sighed. “I--Shayne, you’re perfect, you know that?” 

“I wouldn’t say perfect but…” You dug your fingers into his side, causing him to laugh. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just that you’re the perfect LA Boy and I look nothing like the perfect LA Girl that you so clearly deserve. I mean, Damien was nice but that’s literally just how he is. What if your other friends think I’m, like, a terrible influence on you with my millions of piercings and tattoos and attention-seeking hair and--”

He cut you off with his lips, arms pulling you in impossibly closer and effectively stopping you in your tracks. 

When he pulled away, you fixed him with a playful glare. “Shayne Robert Topp, you did not just pull a movie cliche on me while I was airing out all my concerns to you. Apologize right now.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “But, Y/n, you don’t need to be the ‘perfect LA Girl,’ you’re perfect the way you are. That doesn’t mean I’d like you any less if you decided that you did want to become whatever you think is the ‘perfect LA Girl’ because I’d like you no matter what. I just like you.”

“Even if I went bald?”

“Even if you went bald.” 

You’ve said it once and you’ll say it again: you fucking loved this man. 

“I love you,” you said, pouting your bottom lip. You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him in adoration. 

“I love you, too.” 

By the time Saturday rolled around, you were ready to meet the rest of Shayne’s friends. Most of your anxieties had been successfully quelled, though they still lingered. You had gotten your hair done again the day before, meaning you were now sporting a bright neon green. You matched your makeup to your vibrant new dye and picked out a heat-appropriate outfit. 

“Are you ready to go?” Shayne called from your front room, interrupting your self-admiration session. You gave yourself one last look in the full-length mirror in your room before slipping on the pair of DnD dice filled platform shoes that added at least three inches to your height. 

“Ready.” You stopped to pose in the doorway, the bottom of your shirt riding up as you leaned against the wooded frame. “Baby, how do I look?” 

Shayne looked up from his phone, his jaw dropping the second he laid eyes on you. A blush settled nicely onto your cheeks, as you grew shy under his gaze. He dropped his phone on the couch and crossed the room in three long strides. He pulled you in by the waist, pressing a kiss to your lips. You melted into his touch, a giddy feeling spreading through your being as your arms looped around his neck, bringing him closer. 

“You look amazing,” he breathed, pulling away. You giggled as you realized that a bit of your black lipstick had transferred off onto his lip. You reached up and wiped his top lip with your thumb. 

“Thank you,” you giggled, rubbing your fingers together until the black rubbed off. “What time did your friends say?”

“We’ve got some time…” his fingers crept up your side, dipping under your shirt and tracing the band of your bra with his thumb. 

You smacked his hand. “Naughty boy.”

You didn’t end up leaving the apartment for another thirty minutes, though you couldn’t complain about it. Still, you ended up making it on time. From where you’d parked on the street, you could see Shayne’s friends spread across two connected tables, laughing on the patio. 

Damien was the first to spot the two of you, standing from his seat and calling out, inviting you into the sectioned off area. You took up residence in the seat closest to him, leaving Shayne to take the seat on your other side. 

“You guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Shayne introduced you to everyone at the table. There were nine other people sitting at the table. You recognized maybe six of them from the videos you’d watched, while the other three were most likely spouses (considering how close they were sitting next to who you assumed were their significant others). 

“Hi, Y/n!” the blonde sitting next to Damien greeted. You recognized her immediately as the inspiration for Shayne’s alter ego, Courtney Freaking Miller. 

You smiled politely as everyone went around introducing themselves to you, from Olivia and Sam to Sarah and Claudio, you didn’t feel out of place for one second. The hand that had been tightly intertwined with Shayne’s relaxed as you grew even more comfortable around his friends. 

“So Damien told us that you worked at a tattoo parlor,” Ian inquired, propping an arm up on the table and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. On his left sat Anthony, who also looked interested in your answer. “And Shayne did, too, I guess. Did Damien tell you that your boyfriend literally never stops talking about you?”

You giggled. “He did tell me that and I find it adorable that he can’t go a second without missing me.” 

“I wish Peter was like that,” the purple haired woman, Mari, complained playfully, nudging her husband’s side. Peter just laughed it off, casually putting his arm around her shoulders. 

“You do not,” he refuted. “You get flustered when I even mention you to my friends.”

She huffed, though there were no traces of anger to be found on her face. “It’s the sentiment that counts.”

Courtney put her menu down, reaching over to grab her glass of water. “I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo. Y/n, yours are so pretty.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at the compliment. “Thank you! I actually did most of them myself.” 

Courtney’s eyes widened at that. She reached over Damien, who had leaned far back enough in his seat to allow her to do that. She motioned at your sleeve, specifically at the roses that decorated the back of your forearm. They were cliche and most likely overused but you just thought they were pretty. 

“Those? You did those yourself?”

“Yeah!” you said enthusiastically. You offered your arm out, allowing her to take a closer look. “My friend, Alyssa, designed it for me and as soon as I was trusted to wield an actual tattoo gun, it was the first piece I worked on.”

“That’s insanely cool,” she gushed, tracing a finger over one of the larger roses. “And you’re insanely talented.”

“Thank you!”

For some reason, Courtney was originally your biggest concern. Most of the insecurity had sprouted from the constant online presence of the ship Shourtney, which Shayne assured you was nothing but a meme. And you trusted your boyfriend, and though you didn’t know Courtney, you trusted her too. But sitting here, at the same brunch spot as her, sharing the same meal as she was, all your fears washed away. 

It was incredibly difficult not to like her. Not only was she extremely nice, but insanely pretty as well. Though you had to accredit most of your confidence to Shayne, who only had eyes for you despite everything else. You’d thought that you would find yourself vying for his attention in front of everyone but not once did he leave you to flounder. He was always there, ready to step into any conversation you were having. 

When you’d all finished your meals and began to wrap up the late morning, you couldn’t help but show your gratitude for your amazing boyfriend by pressing a huge kiss to his cheek, whispering that you loved him while everyone had grown content in their own little conversations with each other. 

Content, he grinned and his arm around your shoulders tightened just that much more as he used his free hand to tilt your face up towards him. He pressed a kiss to your lips, keeping it short and sweet, before pulling away and whispering, “I love you, too.” 

TAGLIST

Permanent

@beautiful-holland​ @toms-order​ @starlightfound​ @grandmascottlang​ @positiveparker​ @bippity-boppity-boopa​ @caswinchester2000​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @imladylunaticbitch​

[jj-bxby]

Rudy Pankow x Reader Request - Who’s Who

gif credit @toesure

Request - Can I make a Rudy Pankow request pls?? One where the reader and him are dating and the reader is part of the outer banks cast. They are doing The Who’s Who interview with Buzzfeed. They’re just being like super cute during the interview. Thanks! 🤗

Word Count - 1.2k

A/N - This is a piece where the reader is a part of the OBX cast as another character :)

“Rudy, I swear to god if you don’t stop shaking your leg right now,” you mumbled to your boyfriend as the camera’s light flickered on. He looked at you and grabbed your hand out of frame, giving it a squeeze as he smiled at you. Both of you were rather nervous, this was your first interview since you had told your friends you were dating but hadn’t brought it to public light, at least not yet. Luckily your friends were supportive as always, JD sending you both dumb memes about couples, Madilyn and Chase inviting you on a double date, and Madison always being there for you to talk about any relationship questions you had. It was like a fairytale for now, but the both of you had a few different late-night conversations about how your relationship being in the public eye could affect you. Gently sliding your hand from Rudy’s, you turned to look at Rachel, your interviewer for the day as she scribbled on a piece of paper.

“Alright guys, we’re going to be playing Who’s Who today. I’m sure you know how it works already, but I’m going to give you some questions and you’ll point to who is most likely to do the thing in question! Just be yourselves and feel free to talk more about the questions, okay?” The group chattered in agreement, and Rachel nodded.

“Okay, first up. Who’s most likely to mess up their lines?” You smiled and pointed to Rudy, as did everyone else. Well, everyone except Rudy himself of course, who had looked to Chase. He gave you a mock-gasp, when he saw your hand pointed to him, clutching his heart dramatically. “Seriously? Woooow. I just make up my own lines, sometimes is all!”

“To be fair, you making up lines stems from you forgetting them in the first place,” Madison pointed out, nodding to him.

“Look we got some of my best lines that way. Dare I say some of the best lines in the entire show,” He cocked his eyebrow and you laughed.

You mimicked your boyfriend's voice as you recited one of your favorites, “I can’t walk bro, I got polio.” Everyone erupted in laughter, while Rudy rolled his eyes. “Like I said, best lines in the show, man.”

Once the laughter had dropped off, Rachel moved to the next question. “Okay, who’s the most likely to fall or trip while filming?”

Everyone pointed to Madilyn, including herself. “Yeah, y'know that scene where I walked on the log after the storm? We had to do more takes of that than I’d like to admit, just because I kept falling off the log!” She laughed and looked at you, “And Y/N had to help me cover up the bruises the next day!” You smiled, remembering trying to brush color corrector and foundation onto Madi’s skin to cover up the nasty bruises she’d gotten, and failing horribly.

“Now that I think about it, Y/N did have one pretty hilarious trip at one point.” Madison said, glancing at you. “When we were doing a take of the Midsummer's party and she was wearing heels, she totally tripped on her own feet!”

Chase flashed a shit eating grin as he continued the story. “Yeah! And she wouldn’t have even fallen but Rudy tried to, uh, “catch” her,” Chase air-quoted, “but he ended up making them both fall. Luckily Rudy is just such a gentleman.”

You scrunched up your face and groaned while remembering that scene, but your boyfriend just threw his head back and laughed. “Hey you could have at least let me fall on top of you, that day, mister.” You joked as you bumped your shoulder into his lightly, giggling at the thought. He bumped you back, but it was harder than either of you had expected, and you fell off of your stool.

“Oh shit, babe,” Rudy said as he rushed to help you up. You sat there giggling on the floor as your boyfriend hopped out of his seat and held out his hand.

“Y‘know, I seem to fall a lot more with you around, ya dork.” You smiled as you took hold of his outstretched hand, him helping you to your feet while apologizing profusely. “Oh my god, it’s fine, Rudy! Look, I’m not broken!” You said, spinning in a circle before you smoothed out your dress. You glanced over at the others as you took your seat again, seeing the others had taken to staring at you both and grinning knowingly. You rolled your eyes as Madison wiggled in her seat at you, raising her eyebrows.

Rachel cleared her throat as she went back to her questions. “Alright guys, who is most likely to be found staying up all night?”

The votes were split between you and JD, both of you having pointed at each other. “Look I always get notifications from you texting me memes or dumb reddit posts at three a.m., JD!”

“Aha! So why are you checking them at three a.m., huh Y/N? You know I got read receipts on,” he accused, wiggling his finger at you.

You narrowed your eyes and slowly pointed your finger back towards yourself. “Touché.”

“Who’s most likely to be the ‘Cast Mom’?”

You perked as you pointed to yourself, pumping your fists in the air when everyone else did as well.

“I swear to god she has everything you could ever need in that damn purse of hers.” Rudy said with a laugh.

“She even kept fruit snacks in there for when I wanted something to snack on,” JD nodded. “Oh she has chips for me!” Chase chimed in excitedly.

“You don’t want to be around these boys when they’re hungry,” you explained.

“Yeah, y’all also have like an unlimited supply of Band-Aids and bobby pins in there too,” Madison added, Madi nodding in agreement.

“It’s true, she basically knows what we need before we need it! She’s also the best at making plans and getting all of us to show up to them!”

You look to Rachel dramatically. “What can I say, it’s hard raising five twenty-something’s all on my own.” You let out a little nose laugh at your own joke and saw the others smiling back at you, trying to contain their laughter.

“Alright, and final one for the day here, who’s most likely to end up together?”

Your eyes widened and darted to Rudy’s, before you both looked to your friends. All of them were making heart hands at the two of you while grinning devilishly. The blood rushed to your cheeks at their antics and you squeezed your eyes for a second shut as you smiled.

“Well I guess the cat’s out of the bag for everyone now, huh?” Rudy said as he passed a hand through his hair. He ducked over to give you a kiss on the cheek and flash you a grin.

“C‘mon, you guys are too cute together to keep it a secret!” Madison exclaimed.

“Yep, Madison’s right, guys,” Chase said, Madi and JD agreeing.

“Alright, alright!” You pulled out your phone and opened up your instagram, pulling Rudy over to you for a kiss as you snapped a picture of it. You tapped away at your keyboard as your friends “Awwwed” in the background. Rudy read the caption over your shoulder.

“well, it’s official now. @rudeth and i are dating 🥰”

After sliding your phone back into your pocket, you grabbed your boyfriend’s hand and laced your fingers with his.

“So I think we win the ‘Cutest Couple’ award, sorry guys,” Rudy said solemnly as he nodded to Chase and Madilyn, smiling at the giggles coming from you.

“Hell yeah we do.”

tags + moots ~ @joshy-obx @jjsredhat @jjsbxtch @jjsmaybcnk @drewswannabegirl @starksweasley @starlightstarkey @stargazingstarkey @aesthetic-lyss @shawnssongs @futuretaxcheat @overly-b

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 01338: Kix

They always say that medics make the worst patients, and it was doubly true in Kix's case. If he wasn't working in the medbay, all medical care was left to the droids, and their programming left a lot to be desired. At least the men had Kix to treat them. Kix had no organic to treat him if he was the one sick.

At the moment, he was fairly certain he wasn't sick. Sure, his head ached so badly that his stomach threatened to rebel and it hurt to move any part of his body, but that could be explained by any number of ailments. Maybe it had always hurt to swallow, breathe, and blink, and he just hadn't noticed.

On the off chance that he wasn't as well as he thought, Kix had been working to stave off any illness floating around the Resolute. He took in extra liquids and got as much sleep as possible. Since he practically lived in the medbay, sleep was a challenge, but he was trying.

Kix pulled his head up from the surface of his desk, groaning as he did so. The shift in position made his head throb worse than before, but that wasn't why he was cursing. When had he fallen asleep? He was less than halfway through the ever-present stack of medical forms taking up half of his desk, and with no troopers in the medbay, he needed to do as much work as possible before the next crisis hit.

"That didn't sound very rested," a voice remarked from closer than Kix was comfortable with.

He turned quickly, took a moment to huff out a breath and clutch at his head, and stared into Rex's amused eyes. "Captain. When did you get here?"

"About ten minutes ago. I watched you fall asleep on your forms."

"Did you need something, sir?" Kix asked, wincing. Why were the medbay lights so bright? "Is everything all right?"

"Actually, no," Rex told him. "I have a sick trooper who won't accept medical treatment."

"I'll set him straight," Kix promised grimly. "Who is it?"

"You, obviously," Rex said, the amusement on his face now tinged with concern. "Kix, you're dead on your feet."

"I'm fine, sir."

"Then you won't mind if we power up one of the medical droids to double-check that?"

Kix grimaced. "You want to use one of those shu-shuk machines? They have a success rate of-"

"-55%" Rex finished with him. "I know, Kix, you've told us all. But you're the only medic we've got, and you're clearly not going to treat yourself. The medical droids are the only option. Consider it an order."

"Sorry, sir," Kix reminded. "I have authority on all matters of health. Yours, the men's, and mine. I outrank you in this."

"In this," Rex echoed, frowning forebodingly. "Fifteen push-ups, soldier. That's an order that has nothing to do with medicine."

"Captain-"

"I'm serious, Kix. Fifteen push-ups and I'll drop the medical droid stuff."

"Get ready to lose, Captain," Kix said with a grin. Rex returned the expression, but there was worry on his face.

Five down. This is gonna be so easy…

Eight in and I feel fine. I knew I wasn't sick.

Okay, Kix. You need to spend a little more time in the gym. You shouldn't be this winded after eleven push-ups.

...Why is my face so cold?

"Welcome back," Rex said blandly as Kix tried to raise himself from where he had collapsed on the floor. His arms wouldn't support the weight and he rolled onto his back instead.

"How many did I get to?"

"Thirteen," Rex told him. "Not bad. I thought you would pass out by six or seven."

"I didn't pass out," Kix argued.

"Of course not. I know how much you love lying down with your face pressed against the medbay floor," Rex agreed dryly. "I took the opportunity to power up a med droid. Pick a bed."

Kix glared, but Rex unsympathetically propelled him toward a bed as soon as he was standing. Before he could voice any further complaints, Kix found himself on a bed being scanned by a med droid.

"CT-6116 is showing symptoms of an acute infection in both the sinuses and the upper respiratory tract. This has resulted in secondary symptoms as headache, difficulty breathing, dehydration, fatigue, dizziness, and muscle aches."

Kix glared at the medical droid, mostly to avoid the way Captain Rex was glaring at him. "So, with the typical droid success rate, we can safely rule out those two diagnoses."

"Karking hell, Kix!" Rex hissed in irritation. He took the scanner from the droid and rescanned Kix, passing over his body about four times too many. When he was finally done, he glanced at the screen. "Sinus infection and upper respiratory tract infection. Treat him."

The last bit was directed at the droid, who rummaged around in the med cabinet. Kix gritted his teeth as its rough-jointed metal hands knocked around, systematically destroying all of the organization he had managed in that small space.

"Why did you wait this long, Kix?" Rex asked sharply. "You're a medic. Surely, you've known for a while that you needed treatment."

"If a medic is currently undergoing treatment, he cannot continue to treat others," Kix explained reluctantly. "The risks of accidental malpractice are too high with the side effects of many medications."

Rex stared at him, dark brows furrowed. "The side effects are too much of a risk, but operating with a temperature that is well over standard isn't considered dangerous?"

"It is… or it probably should be," Kix admitted. "But it isn't written that way in the regs, so it isn't an explicit requirement."

Rex frowned even harder. "So… it's a loophole."

"Yes, exactly."

With a sigh, Rex scrubbed his hand over his close-cropped blond hair and collapsed onto Kix's well-worn chair, obviously pulled over from behind the medic's desk. "Do you realize the consequences of the choices you're making?"

Acutely uncomfortable with the knowledge that he had experienced this conversation from the other side far too many times to count - including with the captain himself - Kix shrugged. His answer didn't seem to be enough for the captain, who sat watching him for the (frankly ridiculous) length of time it took for the med droid to give him a dose of antibiotics and a cup of water.

"I know it may come as a surprise to you, but I do monitor the medbay logs," Rex finally said when the droid puttered off to fetch an antibiotic spray for Kix to inhale. "Do you know how much time you spend here?"

"I'm here every day, sir," Kix answered honestly, giving into the realization that Rex wasn't going to let it go.

"Yes, for three-quarters of the day. That gives you a collective five or six hours to shower, eat, and sleep. Judging from those push-ups, you don't spend any of that time training." Kix felt his face flush before he could stop it, but Rex wasn't done. "To put it another way, you've logged almost six-hundred hours in the medbay over the last standard month. That's a little over twenty-three full days out of thirty."

"When I'm not here, sir… men die. Brothers." Kix's voice cracked a little at the admission, but he kept his gaze firmly fixed on Rex, refusing to look away. Caring for his brothers was not a weakness and he wasn't ashamed of it.

The harsh expression on Rex's face softened into something like understanding, but his famously steely resolve didn't fade. "I'm tired, Kix. I'm so tired of watching my men - my brothers - die. I'll be damned if I watch you work yourself to death trying to keep others alive. You have to take care of yourself so that you can keep everyone else safe as long as possible."

He sat back in the chair, running a hand over his jaw as he thought. "Your medic's proficiencies can be pulled. You know as well as I do that the regs say I'm supposed to pull them for the first infraction. I don't want to do that, but I will if I don't see you taking better care of yourself. I won't have another one of these conversations, Kix. Is that understood?"

"Understood, sir," Kix agreed quickly, heart in his throat. So much of his identity was tied up in being a medic… he wasn't sure what he would do if his status was pulled from him.

Rex nodded at that and moved to leave the medbay, but Kix had one more thing to say: "I'm sorry, Captain."

"You will be," Rex said solemnly, the effect made more chilling by the bright smile that flashed across his face in the next moment. "I'm not going to stop any of the men from coming to visit you. That's the worst punishment I can think of."

Kix laughed uncertainly at the threat, but didn't understand it until an hour or so later, when the medbay doors opened to admit a mass of grinning troopers.

"Hey, Kix!" Hardcase greeted, far too loudly.

Commander Tano's grin was nothing short of evil. "We heard you weren't feeling well."

"Not only that," Jesse added with a smirk. "We heard you didn't accept treatment until you collapsed in front of Captain Rex!"

Tup schooled his face into a mock-serious expression. "It's dangerous to take risks with your health like that."

Kix took a deep breath and let it out slowly, staring at the medbay ceiling and cursing Rex internally. The captain was a cruel, cruel man…

---

A/N - Kix truly is the worst possible patient, but he needed a bit of his own medicine (ba-dum tss)! Sorry for the bit of Rex angst here, but in my mind, this is toward the end of the war, and everyone is getting mentally and emotionally tired. They made a point of mentioning it in the last season of the Clone Wars: sometimes, it's hard to be the one who survives. Also, on a lighter note, how long do you think Rex was working on that medical outranking work-around? My guess is since the time Kix made him stay in the medbay overnight!

Thank you for reading! I would be honored if you would consider reblogging so that my work can spread. There are only a few chapters left in this story, but it’s not too late! To those who have liked or reblogged my work in the past:

Okay, thank you, byeeeee!

[guigz1-coldwar]

'A ghost in town': New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

'A ghost in town'

"Question...is your turtleneck good-looking enough for me or not, Park?

Chapter Summary: Yirina & Park are both surprised & shocked to learn that Harry Stone that they killed in Cuba 2 months ago wasn't dead at all as another surprise awaits for them...

Link of the Picrew used !

To read it on AO3, click here!

Words : +3200

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry Stone...If there were a name that we didn't want to talk or even heard now was this particular one but this is what came out of Park's lips after she hanged up the phone, looking at me with the most confused face I could have ever seen and me, I was following the same mood inside of me, shocked & confused at hearing this. I didn't see happen but it was clear, Park, me & SAS lived what happened that day in Cuba, I'm the one pulling the trigger on Stone's gun who killed him, and....how he can be alive? I shot him!

I think I never saw Park standing up from her seat in a fast move, her chair hitting the wall behind it almost brutally while she took back her jacket and quickly walked out of the room with me, trying to copy her moves. It was better for me that I don't speak at all during the whole walk as looking at her, seeing her fists clench all along the way, almost ready to punch anyone that was going to step in front of her, and frankly, I prefer to not be that person.

She was walking this fast that around the hallways of the building to join Zasha's team office that it was sort of exhausting, her not stopping at all or taking a simple breath to calm herself down with me and it's with that attitude that when we arrived in front of the door leading to our destination, she opened the door widely, nearly at the point that she could have removed the door from its frame.

"You better hope that's a joke, Sarah!" She started, her hand pointing towards Sarah who was standing near Peter's desk, him sitting on his chair as Zasha & Portnova were here too, waiting for us, and leaned against the front Sarah's own desk. "I don't like to joke on that," She added.

"Hey, I'm not saying anything funny, miss Park," Sarah defended herself, putting her hands above her heart.

"You don't know how much I'm not that pleased to hear that, if it's a joke, it's not fucking funny," Park warned her, sounding very serious, a voice that could kill everyone around her...including me.

"Calm down, Park," I suggested, stepping between the two in the case as Park wasn't removing her angered face against Sarah, having to put my hands on her chest to make her fall back. "Anger isn't helping, calm down, okay?" I said, looking at her but that face wasn't getting away.

"Yirina, it ain't a joke at all," Zasha's voice intervened, making me turn my head around to see them crossing their arms as Portnova had her both hands together. "She showed us the proofs," They added, gesturing with their head towards Sarah.

"Is it right?" I asked nonetheless to Sarah, keeping Park under control, calmer than her.

"Miss Grigoriev, what we got isn't making us laugh," Peter spoke up, tapping his finger on his desk at a slower pace.

"I saw it happened: I shot Stone in the shoulder through mine," I protested, seeing him looking down at his hands.

"That wasn't Stone at Cuba, miss Grigoriev," Sarah called me out as she handed to me a medical report of Stone when his body was taken from the Cuban compound. "Here's one of the proofs we got," I took her file in my hands, checking up, and by looking at it, everything was looking clean.

"What's wrong with that?" I demanded, confused as I gave gently the report to Park who looked it up.

"You didn't see what was wrong with it?" Sarah raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms at me as the others were staying silent to me & Park as if they wanted us to guess the answer on our own.

"The blood type..." Park muttered in a low voice as she lowered the report in her hands along with her body slides. "We didn't even check the bloody blood type," She continued, sniffing away in anger before she throws hardly the report on the ground, the others not moving an inch from their positions.

"The blood type?" I narrowed my eyes, avoiding the report at my feet, to look at Sarah.

"Stone's blood type is O+, this report said that it's A-," Portnova was the one who gave me the answer. "The person that you killed in Cuba wasn't Stone but a double," She continued, going off the desk but staying near Zasha.

"Even if we did multiple checks, that detail managed to be hidden," Zasha told us, the palms of their hands moving to grab the side of the desk they were leaned on. "We send a copy of this to the director but also the SAS,"

"How did you discover it?" Park demanded, seemingly calm in her voice but I prefer to stay near her in case, seeing her fists still clenched.

"I was crossing around some report until I was given something," She replied, Portnova putting her hands on Sarah's desk to grab something and gave it to me, it was an envelope...'For the Majesty's Secret Services from Perseus'...that was marked on it with a marker pen, and then, I took my hand inside the envelope and take out a picture. "That's what makes me curious," My eyes went wide at seeing that picture in black & white.

On it, we could see Lukas Ritter but he wasn't alone at all. Near him, a man was wearing some glasses with a sort of leather jacket, hands up pointing towards Lukas and..the third man was none other than Stone himself, wearing the very same military outfit he was always having in those pictures of him each time my eyes were on them...but also in the memories he was involved in. The picture was having a date on it, it was taken one day ago...in London.

I kept the picture in my hands as I showed it to Park who wanted to take it inside her hands but she was looking ready to tear it apart, judging by the face she was making. I even had to get my right hand on her left shoulder to keep her calm at the moment before she took a deep breath, looking away from me and the others to sit on a chair that was near Peter's office.

"The MI6 wasn't the only one that was sent that picture," Sarah explained as I gave her back the picture. "We've got a phone call from the MI5, saying that they received it too," She added, moving to get back to her desk, Zasha & Portnova moving aside to be next to Zasha's office door.

"When Sarah received that, we decided to check up everything we got on Stone and we found a lot of things with him," Peter elaborated, getting himself well in his seat. "We concluded that Stone is still alive,"

"Yes, that's mean he's becoming again a priority," Zasha breathed, scratching the back of their head, looking at my feet. "That shit...dammit," They cursed.

"Did you know anything about a double, Portnova?" I asked Portnova, knowing that she was the third one in the room that could tell us more about him since she worked with him in her time in Perseus.

"No, that's the first time I heard of it," She responded in a serious voice, shaking her head as her hands were on her waist. "That wasn't something we would have heard of, Stone always been a man making his things away," She commented.

"That's always been like him," Park's muffled voice was heard through the palm of her hands as she was holding her face. "Faking his death, I know that and he did the trick again," She stated.

"How's that?" Peter questioned her with curiosity.

"One year ago, we got signs of a criminal mastermind in Leningrad and I was sent there to investigate," Park started, removing her hands away from her face as she slowly turned her head around to look back at everyone. "Stone was at that time, hidden under the nickname 'Janus' and he knows that I was going to be the one that the MI6 will send," She sighed before going up from her, rather better than a few minutes ago. "He made his revelation to me...and since, he became one of the MI6 top targets until we ended him...until now,"

"How a man like him can always escape from us?" Peter demanded, sounding & looking confused.

"Because he's thinking higher than us, that's the thing," I answered like that to him, crossing my arms and walking to lean myself on one of the walls of the big office. "I know him too and he wasn't very friendly, thinking for his own," I complained, biting with my teeth the left part of my bottom lip, a bit distraught by that news as I lean my back against the wall near the door leading to the hallway outside. "Apart from that, any other bad news?" I asked.

"We finally found who was this I.B from the transmissions," Zasha exclaimed, getting mine & Park's attention to them who gestured towards Sarah with their head.

"Name's Ingo Beck, a former operative of the Diensteinheit IX turned Perseus agent years ago in 1981," Sarah replied, adding to her words, tapping on another file looking like records as Park moved to get to it. "Said to be an explosives expert with a big sense of humor," She scoffed, her tone not looking funny for Park who looked at her with a deadly glare. "And...Uhm...he seems to be involved personally with Stone,"

"So, our I.B was an East-German operative...like Ritter," Park whispered, her eyes on the file.

"We discovered it inside another envelope that we received," Peter spoke up, grabbing another envelope on his desk and he showed it to us...'From a friend, take care of it'...this time marked with a red pen. "We make some research about it but nothing about who has sent this one...and the other one,"

"Nothing?" I said.

"Nothing at all, Yirina," Zasha responded at me, shrugging. "I tried to..." They tried to say before they were cut by the sound that was coming inside their office. "Wait, I think that someone's calling me," They thought before they moved to walk away, opening the door of their office and closing it behind them.

"Perseus sent to the MI6 and the MI5, picture of Stone to taunt us that he isn't dead and in London...and someone else sends to us, a file explaining who is this mysterious I.B," I basically resumed the entire situation now, actually trying to figure out anything wrong from it. "Dammit, how is this fucking possible? What Perseus is planning?"

"A lot of inexplicable things," Peter suggested, raising his shoulders.

"Petrov trying to kill me, sending Ritter & Beck in London and now with Stone, something's big is going to happen," Portnova recalled us, making a brief resume of the situation...now much worse than we thought. "In two words, we're in deep troubles,"

"Soon, the whole MI6 & MI5 will be on high alert so..." Peter talked until he was cut off by Zasha's door getting opened, having finished their call apparently.

"Yirina, Park, you're needed," They said and the first thing we did was to look at them with narrowed eyes, surprised. "A CIA agent is awaiting in your office right now," They added and by that, I was immediately having my blood froze in place...fearing the worst.

"Did he tell his name?" Park asked, eyes on me but her voice directed to them.

"Said he goes by 'Alex', that's all," They responded before Park passed her hands through her hair as I took a relieving breath...not so relieving after hearing that a CIA agent was in our office.

"Shit, we're going, we're talking about that later," Park sighed before she decided to walk away from the office, following her and leaving the others.

If the day wasn't going to be shitty enough, learning that Stone was still alive after all and that mission in Cuba, discovering the true identity of 'I.B', there was now a CIA agent that was inside on our own office just above us and even if it wasn't Hudson or even Adler, questions were flowing in me & Park, wondering what's the CIA is doing in London and why they wanted to see us in particular...maybe me...

Park was seeming calmer in appearance but deep inside of me, I knew that she was very tense that her anger could maybe appear again at any moment, it was like the first time I saw her angry like that...it was the first time I really saw her angry after all and I wasn't confused about it, knowing the history between her & Stone, that anger was understandable for me but now, is that meeting with this CIA agent was going to be good or wrong?

When we approached our office, the door was already widely opened, two men who were wearing the same type of clothes as Adler and guarding our own office, making us feel that we weren't at Century House in here. When the agents saw us arrived, they let us pass and we could see a man that was a bit taller than us, waiting near Park's desk, his face with some scars on his left part.

"You must be the famous Helen Park," The man started, his eyes focusing towards Park and his voice not looking very...happy.

"Yes, and you?" She asked, a bit curious.

"I'm Aleksander Smirnoff...but for you both, call me 'Alex'," He replied as I moved to offer my hand for a shake, staying polite above all but instead, he refused to hand over his hand to me. "I'm sorry but not shaking with woman, I don't like that," He told us.

"And why that?" I narrowed my eyes to him, getting my hand back along with my slides. *

"Because I have my reasons, that's all," He responded in a harsh tone, looking at Park with a deadly glare as she was moving at the other side of her desk, causing him to move away from it and getting next to me. "You know why I'm here, right?" He demanded to both of us.

"No, it wasn't said to us," I answered, crossing my arms as I lean against my desk, Park sitting in her chair.

"Well, to start, we got wind that one of the MI6 top targets faked his death," He revealed in a normal voice, getting his hands around his waist.

"Uhm...how did you know that?" Park questioned him, surprised that the CIA was already aware of the situation along with me.

"It was pretty simple: the CIA has ears & eyes everywhere in London," He said, turning around to look at me with a not trustful look.

"You, in the CIA, can't avoid spying on your own allies...typical," I mumbled, finding this type of move very something that the CIA is doing everywhere....fucking typical. "You'll never change, that's for sure," I added.

"Maybe what we're doing is to make sure that Perseus isn't making his moves everywhere, we're working with our allies, not spying on them, that's different," He corrected me but I was unconvinced by them, used to the CIA's lies against me. "Oh...you must be Yirina Grigoriev...the one that we call...

"Don't say that name," Park called him out, pointing her left index finger at him.

"Always been like that, miss Park," He sighed, looking at her with desperation. "Was it with that attitude that you caused the death of some of my friends in the CIA months ago?" He asked in a normal voice, pointing at her.

"What are you telling right now, Alex?" She demanded, her hands on the armrests of her chair, looking ready to get up very fast.

"Are you the woman who likes to..." He stopped himself to look at me with a smile. "Well...to play & manipulate like a little witch?" He finished his question and that wasn't something I liked and her too, going up from her seat to reach him.

"Park, don't," I stepped myself in front of her, putting my hand against her chest again to stop her in her walk, her fist already clenched for a punch. "He's trying to make you angry, don't cross that line, please," I pleaded, saying it silently at her, looking at her.

"Yiri, if you just..."

"Don't, please," I cut her gently in her words, pleading again, my hand feeling like struggling to stop her to move forwards in her path.

"You can hold her as much as you want, ain't going to stop her," Alex added in a normal voice again.

"If you can just stop what you're doing, it will help," I advised him, feeling inside of me that I could be like Park and doing it by myself. "Why are you here, to be frank with us?" I asked him finally, not looking at him.

"I'm here because I wanted to remind you of things," He started, hearing him walk away as Park was not removing her eyes from him, allowing him to know where he was in the room. "The CIA will be working on Stone, pleasing you or not," He said.

"I thought that you will stay focus on Perseus at Verdansk, right?" I muttered, finally turning my head around and keeping my left hand on Park.

"Let's just say that Stone's sudden reappearance did make us willing to make what you weren't able to do," He sounded a bit joking in his voice, feeling Park's chest struggling to get away from me. "And besides, you both are still under our watch as we're now chasing a ghost in town,"

"What do you mean?" I mumbled, narrowing my eyes at him as he was going to walk away from the office, standing in front of the door.

"As I said, the CIA has ears & eyes everywhere in London," He told us, making us remember his words earlier before he decided to get out of our office, his presumed friends guarding the door following him until they disappear from our sight.

"You should have let me hit him," Park suggested in a serious voice, her right hand moving gently above my left one.

"It wasn't going to help you and you're not the only one who resisted about it," I then move my hand away from her chest before looking down at our feet, a bit confused. "I don't want to see you angry, that's it," I whispered.

"I'm sorry, it's just..."

"Don't tell me, it was just to test your nerves, it's okay," I exclaimed, cutting her again gently. "With what we heard & learned, I can understand your anger," I continued, taking a deep breath while staying at the same spot. "Listen, this situation isn't really good but we're going to make sure that things came back right...including putting Stone back where he belongs," I proclaimed, passing my right hand through my redhead's hair.

"I know, we should stay calm...I should stay calm, maybe some coffee will help," She proposed and I nodded, looking back at her with a little smile on my face. "Do you want one?" She demanded at me.

"As it's nearly noon, we can maybe go out with Zasha & Portnova for lunch," I suggested to her and she nodded too, looking at her watch and seeing that it was almost noon, as I said to her. "If we can just go out and try to depressure a bit, it can be better, right?" She nodded again, a smile forming on her lips as I was wondering where we could go...

"Why don't we go to a Burger Town?"

[where-dreamers-go]

“Nothing More” Ben Solo x f!Reader

(A/N: Requested by @mykyloren-addiction. Thank you for the request!

So….including fluff was not specified and I went all out Star Wars brain. Also I tweaked it a little. More avoidance. Ben Solo is back and wants to reconcile with an old friend, Reader, but is Reader willing to even look at him?

Warnings: Angst.

Word Count: 2,870 words)

The roaring podracing engine rumbled loudly next door between the joined chatter of travelers. Sitting outside of Docking Bay 7 was never too quiet. Yet it was a doable tradeoff from your racing and invasive thoughts. You needed a few moments to rest your feet and not actively having to check over your shoulder for a patrolling stormtrooper. An old structure wall of sorts shielded your back and one side. Strong meaty scents came upon a breeze from the neighboring Ronto Roasters. It was a place to get away without completely leaving.

Black Spire Outpost had a little bit and a lot of everything. Busy storefronts, unique travelers, varying landscapes, and all sorts of possibilities. That was one reason the Resistance made camp on Batuu. Another reason was to rebuild the Resistance while the First Order was extremely close by. It was unnerving, however not the most surprising.

A little over a week ago, you had returned to camp one day to the buzzing of information revolving around Ben Solo and Rey. It was shocking when you stayed to hear more. Ben found Rey and through learning he left the Dark Side as well as The First Order, she let him join the Resistance. General Leia was reportedly happy, however not planetside. It was a load to grasp onto mentally. No sooner had you heard the news, you avoided the camp and in turn Ben as much as physically possible. Helping batuuans and helping to spread the Resistance’s purpose took up most of your day.

As it should, you thought.

Even as you ventured through the Outpost, Rey had lead the former Kylo Ren into the Resistance encampment. Tensions had been high for at least the first forty-eight hours. Having a former leader of The First Order so close did that.

Yet keeping busy and out of sight didn’t seem to do much good with Force sensitives around. You were surprised when Rey had approached you and asked if you’d speak with Ben. She had learned that yourself and Ben had known one another prior to him donning a new name. Something you weren’t too keen on thinking about.

Yet, here we go.

You let out a long heavy sigh. It had been a long while since you had really thought about your life prior to joining the fight to save the galaxy. You were not the first to do so, but you truly hoped you would be among the last.

You had family in the New Republic’s political system. Some of which were currently on the First Order’s radar. You and Ben had met in a senate building. Family busy with their job and duties. You remembered a time when you would jump at the opportunity to join whichever family member had a senatorial meeting. Back then, you had an entertaining friendship with the young Ben Solo. The two of you would share both bizarre and mundane stories from across the galaxy. Between visits, meetings, and comm conversations, the friendship had grown into something more. There were feelings that were blatant mutual, however never spoken.

Your feelings had changed. Time and experience made you stronger and more aware.

Things change. People change. Some more than others.

Back then, after hearing what happened to Ben—him actually contacting you and asking you to support The First Order—quickly lead into a heated conversation before you just shut off the call on him and threw yourself into fully supporting the Resistance by joining. There was such a heavy rock-feeling in your heart then. One you used to and turned into a fire to help the Resistance.

I don’t want to see his face, you thought. Sitting back on the bench, you stretched out your legs. Didn’t think I’d be disappointed or annoyed with seeing Rey though. Sometimes she’s too kind for her own good. But no. No. She’s not getting me to speak with…him. No. How many times do I have to tell her ‘no’? He can be here all he likes. I’m busy. The Resistance is busy. I don’t need to see him.

The usual stress of being a Resistance member had tripled on top of growing frustration. That was no way to live. You needed air. You needed space. And you needed to venture to other communities on Batuu. A perfect escape.

An escape?

Grumbling lowly, your eyes scanned over the populace. No sign of of Resistance members. Two stormtroopers on patrol, citizens walking between other citizens, and possibly a handful of scoundrels. A typical day.

. . .

Double checking you hadn’t forgotten your credits, you peeked out of your tent. Looking left, right, and back again—the area was free of Ben. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t need to speak to him. You didn’t really want to anyway.

Things to do, food to eat, people to help. Can’t spend my whole day like this. Again. No one’s up this early anyway.

. . .

“I don’t know about this.” Finn murmured to Poe as the two waited for Rey outside.

“I just want to see if (Y/N) uses a blaster on him.” Poe said as he crossed his arms and rose his eyebrows to his friend. “I really wouldn’t be surprised. But I’m hoping.”

“Hey. Rey really wants them to talk it out.”

“If she pushes (Y/N) any farther, there’s going to be a shoot out. Very little talking.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? Let him try something.”

“He wouldn’t dare.” Finn crossed his arms as well.

The two Force sensitives came into view from behind a line of foliage and storage crates. One tall and confident, the other tall and guilty.

“Guess we’ll find out.” Poe leaned his weight to the side.

“Have you kept an eye on her?” Rey asked as she reached the pair.

“She left her tent about ten minutes ago.” Finn said calmly. The calm tone only a thin layer over his wariness. “She headed towards the ships about a minute ago.”

“Good. She couldn’t have gotten too far.” She smiled and turned to Ben. “You two will be able to talk this time. I know you will.”

Ben Solo simply nodded, but a small hint of a smile graced his features. Rey’s smiles were sometimes hard to not share. He hoped she was right.

“Yeah, no. Why don’t we—you two—leave (Y/N) alone. She doesn’t want to see him.” Poe gestured to Ben. “Don’t encourage this. Whatever the hell it is.”

“They were friends.” Rey said, standing firmly.

“Exactly. ‘Were friends’.”

“Why don’t we let (Y/N) decide.”

“Fine.”

Finn sighed quietly to himself. He had no idea how any of this was going to turn out. Holding out hope that everyone he cared about would keep their heads, he walked with the group towards the ships.

It didn’t take long for them to hear the familiar sound of a ship’s engine. The sound only fueled the group to rush over to an A-Wing still grounded. The pilot? You, of course.

Ben swallowed thickly as he made eye contact with you. The recognization in your face only resulted in a heavy curse word easily read on your lips. He could sense your distaste from where he stood. It only added to his vulnerability. He had not expected to be opening up to his past in this way. It frightened him. Would you still have any hidden feelings for him?

. . .

If you did not care or work on your ship, you would had hit a panel with your fist. Reluctantly, you left the sanctuary of your A-Wing and trudged your way across the sand to the group staring at you. There was no way you were going to risk Rey keeping your ship down using the Force when it would hopefully be easier to just get one conversation over with.

I hate this already.

You stopped about two paces from the group. There was no need to guess what they wanted. It was only a matter of time before they tried a different tactic to get you to talk with Ben.

“Hi.” You said flatly, arms crossed under your chest.

Poe and Finn stood off to the side, both pairs of eyes checking on Ben every few seconds.

“You were leaving?” Rey asked, eyebrows raised slightly. She stood next to Ben who still wore dark tones and a guarded expression.

“Yes.”

“Can you stay long enough to talk?”

“I have some time.”

Everyone stood rooted in their spot. The breeze coming through the trees gave noise to the break in conversation.

Here we go, I guess. Remain calm. There is nothing to get entirely aggravated about. Just breathe and listen.

Rey turned to Ben for a moment before saying, “Ben would like to talk with you.”

You nodded.

“It’s…uh…,” Ben began speaking to you. “It’s been a while. You look well.”

Your eyebrows rose on their own accord.

Wow.

Again, you nodded. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

From his side, Rey gave him an encouraging head gesture. Ben’s hands hung loosely at his sides.

“Look, I know that I’ve done terrible things, but I left all of it. I’m not a part of it any more. I want to help.” He said, his tone somewhere between calm and persuasive.

“So you joined the Resistance.” You added to whatever narrative he was saying.

“I did…and I didn’t know you had joined. If I’d had known that I…maybe things would be different.”

“I joined right after we last talked.” You pursed your lips and soon the words started tumbling out. “I’d think that me telling you that I wouldn’t join the First Order would had told you something.” Keeping your voice calm was all you needed to focus on.

Don’t let him get to you.

Ben’s frame deflated, shoulders falling.

“There’s a lot that’s changed over the years. No doubting that. Is there something….else that you wanted to talk about?” You asked. Being taken through memory lane with Ben Solo was not what you had in mind. Especially when those memories brought up were the last ones you had when he decided to join the First Order and he left his Jedi training up in flames.

“I want to be your friend again.”

“What?” The word slipped out from you before you could stop yourself.

“I miss you,” Ben’s voice lowered, almost hushed as the words seemed to tug their way out of him. “I want to be your friend again. I miss spending time with you.”

The kriff?

“I’m sorry for all of the terrible things that I’ve done. I can’t change the past. But I can do what I can now.”

You shook your head.

Dark eyebrows knitted together. It looked as if he had taken a hit to the gut.

“I—wow… Look, I can not promise that I’ll be your friend again. I’m just being realistic here. A true friend would not have done…would not have asked me what you did years ago. I don’t…,” you sighed and uncrossed your arms. “I don’t trust you.”

Ben’s mouth hung open as he stared at you. A strong amount of hurt and confusion colored on his fair face.

Keeping your ground was what you intended to do from the start and you would. There had been too many nights, too many days where his choices effected more than simply him. Forgiveness did not always have to be given. It had taken you so long to forgive yourself for things you never did, for feelings your had for him, and things you had considered doing. What Ben did, you were not obligated to forgive him in any amount.

“(Y/N).” Ben said quietly.

“No.”

No. Can’t do it. I’ve already been through this.

You looked away from him and to the other two men. Poe and Finn. Two people you did trust, especially at that moment. Neither one said a word in favor of either you nor Ben. In fact, Finn looked to be observing from a more calm stand point whereas Poe had his arms firmly crossed across his chest. If there was someone who truly did not like the conversation happening, other than you, it was Poe.

Are we finished now?

Boots shifted the sand as Ben took a more wide stance.

“I’m here now. I’m trying to help.” Ben urged. “If you’d just forgive me, we can start over. I didn’t do anything to you. I’ve said things and asked you to join the First Order when I had, but I never went after you. I would never do that.”

You squared your shoulders. There was only so much a person could take.

Calm. Calm, you thought as you breathed through your nose.

“You made a choice, Ben. You ran off to Snoke instead of your parents. To your mother who would protect you from anyone and anything. You chose The First Order instead of your own family. What the hell for? You are not and were not limited in your choices. You’ve done unspeakable things in The First Order. You hurt Poe, Finn, and Rey.” Your breath came out as hot air through your nose. “Did you really just ask me to forgive you?”

Ben’s throated bopped, “Yes.”

The kriffing hell. He just—

“I cannot pretend that you weren’t Kylo Ren. Words aren’t enough.”

“Ben is with us now.” Rey interjected. “He left The First Order.”

You returned your gaze to Ben’s dark brown eyes. “Did you do anything to help dismantle them? Sabotage their plans besides leaving?”

“(Y/N),” Rey said. “You’re asking too much of him. Give him a chance.”

“I did. Years ago before I dropped the call. The call where he asked me to join the kriffing First Order. No.”

Poe and Finn shifted uncomfortably.

“If what you all want is for me to give him a chance in the Resistance, fine. That’s technically not my call. It’s a group effort. But,” You looked Ben hard in the eyes. “If you’re asking more from me…don’t expect anything.”

His dark eyebrows curved up, a look of hurt returning twice over.

“Wait…,” Poe started to lean closer. “What more could he want?”

Your silent answer and unmasked facial expression gave cause to Poe’s reaction.

“Oh, come on…You can’t be serious.” The pilot groaned.

Ben sent a narrowed gaze to the other man.

“We’re not talking about what never happened.” You added more calmly.

“All in favor of ending this conversation?” Poe asked as he could no longer make eye contact with anyone around him. “Because it needs to.”

“(Y/N),” Ben took a step closer. “I’ll do all that I can to help stop the First Order.”

“That’s what we’re all here doing,” Poe added dryly.

“Finn. Poe.” Rey said in a direct and calm manner. “Let’s give them a moment.”

Both men looked over with incredulous looks.

“Come on,” she gestured with her head as she turned and started walking away.

Finn made eye contact with you and said, “Let us know if you need anything.”

You nodded.

Poe Dameron on the other hand cleared his throat and unmistakably patted the weapon in his holster. Thankfully his messages were never subtle.

The moment that the others were out of earshot, you turned your attention to Ben once more.

“Anything else you’d like to say?”

“Are any of my ‘sorry’s enough?”

“There needs to be action to match. Help us. Show that you changed.”

“My feelings haven’t changed.”

A heavy exhale left you.

“You don’t feel the same?” He asked.

“No. Not for a long time.”

It was easy to recognize the genuine hurt in Ben’s eyes. Yes, you felt empathy, however you no longer held romantic feelings for Ben Solo. There was nothing for you to do.

“I have to get back to work.” You said, giving a general gesture behind you. “We have a Resistance to rebuild.”

“I understand.”

“Best of luck, Ben.”

“…Thanks.”

Giving an awkward wave, you pivoted on the spot and headed back to your A-Wing. A weight was lifted from your shoulders and the need to check your surroundings in a safe area had drastically dwindled down. At least your mind would be in a better place while you went out to other communities.

There was limited choice in how you would be interacting near the newest Resistance member. You would learn to work alongside Ben because saving the galaxy from the overpowering use of the Dark Side did not stop for ruined relationships. One day he might even become a nice partner to have when having to go out in your ship. Ben was a great pilot. Yet, only time would tell. Only the Force knew about what was to come.

You would not stray to far from camp, however you would keep a firm eye on Ben to protect the ones you cared about. You did not have to forgive him and you did not think you ever would at that point. The First Order was still a threat and they were scrapping many corners of Batuu to find their base.

It was time to go to work.

~~~

Best wishes and happy reading.)

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

coffee

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Star Wars: @darkenwolfy

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[rmtndew]

Begin Again ~ Chapter 3

Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff) 

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).

I also made a Spotify playlist for this story, if anyone is interested - Begin Again Playlist 

Tag list - @hollydaisy23​, @alyxkbrl​, @onlyhenrys​, @omgkatinka​, @speakerforthedead0​​, @gearhead66​,  @thethirstyarchive​, @oddsnendsfanfics​, @littlerinoa​, @agniavateira​, @aaescritora​, @justaboringadult​, @beenthroughalot​, @seriouslygoodlookinggents​, @xxxkatxo​,  @musicartmayheminmyheart​

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Hectic was the only word to describe the next morning. From the moment I stepped foot into Darcy’s office at Waverly, we were going non-stop. We had a massive delivery that had to be ready by eleven o’clock and even though we’d done as much prep work as we could the day before, it was still a huge undertaking for a single morning. Our saving grace was that the company was sending someone to pick it up for them instead of having it delivered, which meant we could work right until pickup time. And that’s exactly what we did. 

We had all the orders boxed up and ready to go, and Nick and I waited in the front room of the store for the pickup guy. Nick’s sole purpose for being there was to make up for his mistake from the day before: his punishment was to help with the loading.

I was double-checking the order (just for my own sake) when I heard the bell above the door alert me to someone coming in. I turned, mentally preparing myself for social interaction, knowing that I had to greet the customer with a smile. But as I took in the man walking towards me, I felt like puking. 

“Fiona? Is that you?” Ezra, my ex-boyfriend, was smiling and walking towards me.

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I steeled myself and asked, “Are you here for the Mead-Holmes order?”

“Come on, Fi, don’t play like this,” he said, stopping far too close to me. 

“Don’t call me that,” I said. “And what order are you here for?”

He put his hand on my arm. “Fi, I swear I didn’t know you worked here. I promise. Or I wouldn’t have come,” he said. “But maybe it’s a good thing.”

I took his hand off me, removing it completely. “Don’t touch me. Don’t call me Fi. Just tell me what order you’re here to get,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could manage.

He scoffed. “Wow. I really thought you’d be an adult about it whenever we finally ran into each other, but I was wrong.” 

Nick stepped up. “Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt but I’m here to help load the Mead-Holmes order, so if you’re here to pick that up, you can go ahead and sign off on it and show me where you’re at and I’ll get these loaded for you.”

Ezra kept his eyes on me while Nick was talking and then a moment longer once he finished. Finally, he looked at Nick and let out a breath. “Yeah, that’s my order,” he said. “Where do I sign for it?”

Nick moved behind me, taking the clipboard with the order form from the counter, then handed it to Ezra. He scribbled out something that was meant to be a signature, but I was sure that a brain dead parrot would have had more legible handwriting. Nick had his hand out, ready to take the clipboard back, but instead, Ezra thrust it at me. I took it, trying not to give him the satisfaction of letting him see a reaction on my face. 

“Thank you. A copy of the receipt is attached to the order and will be e-mailed back to your company. We appreciate your business,” I said. “Now, if you would show Nick to your vehicle, he would be more than willing to help you load your order.” 

He took a set of keys from his pocket, aimed over his shoulder, and pressed a button. The van parked right outside the door beeped and the lights flashed temporarily as he unlocked it. “You can load them in the back,” Ezra said to Nick, not bothering to even look at him. 

“Have a good day,” I said flatly, then turned to leave. I didn’t even take a step before he put his hand back on my arm again. My entire body tensed up. “Ezra, let me go.”

“You’re really just going to walk off without talking to me?”

“I did talk to you, but there’s nothing left to say except let me go.”

He removed his hand, then circled around so he was in front of me. “I’m here on business and you’re supposed to be representing your company. Being rude to me isn’t a great way to treat customers.” 

I placed the clipboard on the counter and crossed my arms, trying to keep them out of his reach, then took a side step, allowing Nick access to the boxes stacked beside me. “I’m not being rude.”

He smiled condescendingly at me. “Look, I know that we ended on some...rough terms, but I hoped that when we finally saw each other, we could recognize it was for the best.”

“It was for the best,” I agreed. 

“See? That’s my girl.”

My jaw clenched as my hands balled into fists. “I’m not your girl. I’m not your anything,” I said. “The reason I think breaking up was for the best is because I didn’t want to waste any more of my time with someone so shallow, and cold, and selfish as you. And the moment you finally revealed that part of yourself to me, the moment you showed me exactly who you are, I was done.” I shook my head. “The one good thing about you being as heartless as you were, was that I never spent a single second worrying about what I did wrong, or how I could have fixed things between us. I never cried myself to sleep at night missing you. Most people who have toxic partners don’t get a clean cut at the end of a relationship like I did. But that day at South York, when you broke up with me all of ten seconds after I’d told you that Dad had been in a wreck, you cauterized that line between us. So yeah; it was for the best.”

Nick made a low whistling sound right before leaving the store, the bell overhead echoing him. 

“You know, it’s a little irritating that you always bring up this crap about ending things after your dad’s accident, but would you have preferred me to wait until after you knew that he was dead? Would that have made it easier? No,” he said. “I did you a favor. It was like a Band-Aid. I pulled it off quickly and got it over with. But you don’t see it like that, do you?” 

“I’m not sure if you understand the definition of ‘quick’ but talking about it for the full twenty-minute drive to the hospital, where you basically kicked me out on the sidewalk, isn’t it,” I said. 

“Do you hear yourself, Fi? You’re happy that I broke up with you, but oh, I should have held your hand and walked you into the hospital? Why so your mommy could yell at me then, too? Even you have to admit that was embarrassing, having Ava yell at me for you.” 

My fists tightened, my fingernails biting into my skin. I’d never been so tempted to smack anyone my whole life. “I didn’t have her do anything. She was plenty mad enough to do it on her own. It was her husband who had just died when you dumped all of my stuff on her front lawn because seeing it was ‘too painful’ for you.”

“Well, rumor has it, it’s your house again now.” He took a step closer to me. “That you got fired and had to move back in with her.” He smirked. “Is that what happened, Fi? I wouldn’t marry you so you had to move back in with your mommy so someone would take care of you?”

The bell over the door rang again. I was expecting Nick to come over for more boxes and give me a way to escape, but he didn’t. 

“Stop calling me Fi!” I snapped. “You don’t get to call me that anymore. Now I suggest you take your order and leave.”

He frowned at me mockingly. “Aw, am I making you mad? You’re so cute when you’re mad. You finally do that red hair justice,” he said. “You know, if you’d shown this much passion when we were together, I might have actually considered marrying you.”

“Thank goodness I dodged that bullet then.” 

The humor left his face. “Whoever gets you next, they better like broken things.” 

I looked him in the eye. “Do you honestly think you were strong enough to break me, Ezra?” I asked. “The only thing you could break were promises.” 

He sneered at me, then let his eyes drift behind me. I was sure that he was looking at Nick, wondering how much of his true personality he was going to let a stranger see, but then I felt a wall of heat behind me. I turned my head and saw Walter. Comfort flooded my body the moment he was at my side. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked, looking down at me. 

I nodded. “He was just leaving.”

Ezra took a step back. His mouth was in a thin, tight line as he looked Marshall up and down. “Are you the owner?” he asked. “Because I’m here for an order and your employee here -” He crossed his arms and nodded his head at me. “- she needs to work on her customer service skills.”

“I’m not the owner. But I’m fairly sure she told you to leave.”

Ezra looked confused. I watched in his eyes as he tried to work out what was going on. “If you’re not the owner, then our conversation has nothing to do with you. You have no reason to intervene.”

“I’m here for Fiona. And how you’re talking to her, it isn’t acceptable. She’s asked you to leave, so if you’re here for an order, I suggest you take it and go,” Marshall said. He spoke slowly and deliberately, but each word was laced with anger. 

Ezra smiled. “Are you serious? You’re with her?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Good luck to you. You’ll never be able to please her.”

“From what I understand, you never really tried,” Marshall said. 

“Is that what she told you?” Ezra looked at me again. “You’re always the victim, aren’t you? You poor little bird,” he said mockingly. “Maybe one day you’ll grow up and see the truth.”

“You know, this immature gas-lighting bull crap that you and Demi both pull, it’s getting old,” I said. 

He smirked. “Speaking of Demi, the next time you see her, tell her that I found her earrings. They were in my couch.”

I knew what he was trying to do and I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of succeeding. 

“So you had the audacity to dump my belongings on a dead man’s lawn, but you don’t have the guts to return some earrings that she allegedly left at your place?” I asked. “But I’m the immature one. Sure.” 

He was angry that I hadn’t taken the bait. He pushed his hair back from his face aggressively and stepped back from me. “I hope your boss realizes that you just lost a big client,” he said, then started walking away. 

“Did we? Because I’m pretty sure that the company is called Mead-Holmes, not Mead-Holmes and Williams,” I said, turning and calling after him. “And I’ve never heard of a partner or CEO fetching lunch for his company. It seems to me that you’re just an errand boy.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, then slowly turned back around. He opened his mouth but didn’t get a chance to speak. 

“Don’t say another word. Just turn around and keep walking,” Walter said, putting himself slightly in front of me. “Or I can escort you out. It’s your decision.” 

Ezra looked from Marshall to me and I could see him trying to decide if he was going to back down and listen or try to get the last word in. Eventually, he made the smart choice for once and left, shoving past Nick, who was returning to the store, then climbed into his van, slamming the door hard enough to make his windshield wipers jump. 

Marshall turned to me, blocking my view of Ezra. His face was softer, his eyes holding worry. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” 

I let out a breath. It was shaky. My whole body was tense. “No, actually. I’m angry. I can’t believe he had the nerve to come in here and act like that.”

“What do you need me to do for you?”

I blinked. It was a simple question, but it wasn’t one I was used to hearing. It felt like it took me a long time to unwrap it in my mind. Finally, I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I admitted.

“You should take a break,” Nick said. He was loading another portion of the order onto his cart. “I’ll tell Aunt Darcy what happened as soon as I’m done. She’ll understand.” 

I chewed my lip for a moment, mulling it over before finally relenting. “Okay. Thank you,” I said to Nick. Then to Marshall, “Would you come with me?” 

He nodded. “Where do you want to go?”

I led him through the store and out the back door, into the employee parking lot. The moment we stepped outside, the cold air hit me. I gasped. I hadn’t thought to get my coat from Darcy’s office. Walter noticed. 

“It’s cold,” he said, taking off his coat. “Put this on.”

I shivered but shook my head. “No, I can’t take it from you.”

“Yes, you can.” He placed it over my shoulders and held it on me until I finally put my arms through the sleeves, then he pulled it closed in the front. It swallowed me whole. He smiled at me. “Perfect fit.”

I smiled back. “It’s pretty cozy. Thank you,” I said. “But I feel bad that you don’t have one now.”

“I guess I’ll just have to stay close to you for warmth,” he joked. He slid his hands inside the coat and placed them on my hips. Instinctively, my arms went around his neck. We looked like we were dancing, even though we were standing still. His smile grew. “Just like this.” He kissed the top of my head before pressing his forehead to mine. “Do you want to talk about what happened or do you want to forget it?”

I let out a breath. “I don’t - I don’t know.” I let my fingers wander into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently playing with his curls. “That was my ex. I haven’t seen him in two years. Part of me...a big part of me, just wants to forget about him, erase him from my memory and never think about him again,” I said. “But another part of me wants to go yank him out of his van and throw him to the ground and stomp his stupid teeth in. And I hate it because he’s the only person who makes me feel that way.”

“Do you want me to talk to him? The gun and badge tend to make people listen to me.”

I smiled but shook my head. “No. I just want you to stay right here with me,” I said. “Please.”

He didn’t say anything, he only nodded, moving my head slightly with his as he did. Then I closed my eyes as I tried to breathe calmly and let go of the anger that Ezra had stirred up in me. With every passing second, Marshall took over and pushed out any lingering pieces of Ezra. The heat of his hands melted away all remembrances of Ezra’s cold, clammy touch that always had an ulterior motive. The scent of him, clean and full of coffee, chased away the smell of expensive cologne that had always been applied too liberally. His presence was comforting and enveloping, not demanding and suffocating. It was like I’d been trapped in a burning building, inhaling smoke, and Walter was my first breath of fresh air and my lungs were screaming for him.

I opened my eyes and saw him looking at me. I blinked and it suddenly hit me that there must have been a reason for him being there and I’d been so caught up in myself that I hadn’t even thought to ask. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“I’m...I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I doubt you came here for all of this.”

His hands tightened, pulling me closer. “I came here for you.”

“What did you need me to do?”

He smiled, just the corner of his mouth turned up. “Nothing.” I must have looked confused because he laughed softly. “I just wanted to see you,” he said. “I thought I might be able to take you for coffee?” 

I felt my heart swell. My fingers pushed further into his hair, sinking to his scalp. Lightly I scratched my nails against it. He closed his eyes and sighed. “How did I get so lucky to meet you?”

His eyes stayed closed as he leaned back into my touch. “I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one.” 

“Mom, I’m home,” I called out as I walked through the door that evening. “I picked up dinner, too.”

“Already in the kitchen,” Mom called back.

I kicked off my shoes by the door, then went to the kitchen. Mom was at the table, papers spread everywhere in front of her as she wrote on a legal pad. One set of reading glasses sat perched on her nose, while another hung around her neck on a chain. 

“So...what’cha doin’?” I asked slowly, standing in the doorway.

She looked up at me and over the rim of her glasses. “Last night, June mentioned that since I was sick on her’s, mine, and Aunt Rose’s birthday, it would be fun for the three of us to go away for the weekend and celebrate. So -” She indicated to the layers of paper in front of her. “I’m planning the trip.”

“A trip to where?” I asked. “What kind of weekend getaways call for this type of planning?”

She shook her head. “No, see, I looked up a few places, printed off a list of all their attractions, restaurants, hotels, what have you, and now I’m making a list of each with pros-cons and prices for them all, then we can decide from there.” She waved her hand dismissively over the papers. “This is all getting condensed. I’m not giving them an entire booklet.”

“So, when Dad said that you were a teacher’s pet, this is the kind of thing he was talking about. Right?” 

“I wasn’t a teacher’s pet; I just like being thorough. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She stood and started clearing the table. “Those are pretty,” she said, nodding to the vase of flowers in my hand. “Where did they come from?” 

“Marshall gave them to me.” 

“He sent you flowers at work? That was sweet.”

“Actually, he didn’t send them. He took me out to coffee and bought them for me afterward,” I said, carrying the vase and takeout bag to the counter and setting them down. 

“He saw you last night, and you have a date planned for Saturday, but he asked you out for coffee today?” she asked. 

I turned to look at her and leaned back against the counter. I couldn’t help my smile. “He said he just wanted to see me.” 

“I think this one might be a keeper, Fi.”

I laughed. “I think so, too,” I said. “Today was very nearly a dumpster fire and he extinguished it.” 

She looked concerned. “What do you mean? What went wrong?” 

“So, the big order we had today? Ezra was the one who picked it up.”

She paused her cleaning. “What?” 

“Yeah. I was there to get the driver to sign off on the order, so I had to talk to him. I was hoping - a little naively, I guess - that we could just keep it simple and professional, but unfortunately that didn’t happen,” I said. “I tried walking away and he followed me, essentially saying that everything that had happened between us was my fault. He said that it was pathetic that you yelled at him after we broke up, making it sound like I’d had you do it for me. And then insinuated that he and Demi were having an affair, or they’re currently sleeping together now. I’m not sure. He was trying to upset me, but I don’t know if it was the truth or not. I didn’t fall for it and ask.”  

“Well, if Demi is dumb enough to get involved with him after everything she saw him put you through, then she deserves what she gets,” she said. “And if he thought it was pathetic that I yelled at him, what did he think about throwing your stuff out on our lawn two hours after your father died? Is that not beyond pathetic?” 

I shook my head. “I genuinely think he’s too narcissistic to even consider himself at fault. He said he got it over with quick for me.” 

She rolled her eyes. “How kind of him,” she deadpanned. 

“Then Marshall came in -”

Her eyes widened. “He came in while Ezra was there?” she asked, interrupting me. I nodded. “What did he do?”

“He told Ezra that how he was talking to me was unacceptable and that he needed to leave. Then he took me outside so that I could calm down, and once Ezra left, Darcy let me have an early break and he took me out for coffee and bought me flowers to cheer me up.”

“Oh, Bird. He really is a keeper, isn’t he?” 

I put my hand over my chest and felt my heart speed up thinking about him holding me in the parking lot, telling me that he was the lucky one. I let out a sigh and nodded. “Yeah. He really is, Mom.” 

That night Walter called me like he said he would. I’d always been rather bad at phone calls and even he had admitted that anything outside of work calls was out of his comfort zone, but for the three and a half hours that we talked, it didn’t seem that way. I lay in bed and talked to him like he was right there. Like we’d known each other forever. We only hung up because I started drifting off. He joked that he was boring me, but I tried to assure him that it was far from that. His voice was calming and soothing and every bit as warm as he was. Sleepily I told him that he was like sitting in front of the fireplace on a rainy day with a cup of tea. He laughed but said as long as he got to sit at the fireplace beside me, he didn’t mind the comparison. 

I slept better that night than I had in months.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

She [5]

Warnings: non-consent sex (series)

This is dark! Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Synopsis: Steve Rogers’ life is turned upside down by a reporter.

Chapter Summary: The reader tries to change her course.

Note: I’m hoping to work on some other fics today and a reminder that I have a new challenge for dark!writers. 

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Reader

The next day you felt more enlivened but no more detached from the mess you’d created. You ducked the hounding press outside your building and ignored the exaggerated speculation about Steve Rogers; about you. Either he was the villain and you were the innocent lamb, or he was the respectable hero targeted by the shrewish report. Either way, they were wrong. You were both just human.

You went to the office and settled into your new desk. Your goal was a sense of normalcy. You just wanted to be the nameless writer again. You needed something other than Steve Rogers. You needed a story of your own.

You opened your browser and went about scrolling through the digital newspapers and headlines of Google. You inhaled the scent of your coffee as you impatiently flicked the mouse wheel.

It wasn’t news to say there was crime in New York you mused at the Times’ small tenth-page blurb. You paused and re-read it; ‘String of Assaults Against Sex Workers Continues.’  It was no Jack the Ripper, sure, but it might be enough. There could be something there.

You needed a pitch by the end of next week if you wanted to keep up. Poppy’s tapping nails sounded in the back of your head and you sent a screen cap of the article to your phone. You clicked onto past issues and traced the story back almost three months. The first report had been almost half a page and featured the image of a particularly sinister streetlight. It was a start.

You continued your search for the hook to catch onto. Anywhere you could start. The red light district would be a start, the attacks seemed to centre around a certain street within it. You filled a folder with reports from various sources; all so distanced and apathetic. Just numbers.

You left in the afternoon. You took your new pile of distraction and headed back to your apartment. When the windows began to darken, you ordered ramen and ate at the coffee table as you sorted through the clutter. The tabletop was covered in clippings and your own notes alongside your open laptop glaring back at you.

You woke on the couch and continued in your narrowed search. You grew more and more anxious as you did. You needed to get your own look at the seedy nightlife but how? You didn’t exactly blend in and you doubted these women were eager to spend their time with some nosy reporter.

Well, you had to at least try. You found yourself watching the clock as you paced around with papers in hand. You stopped to scribble down notes every now and then. Tick, tick, tick.

You were too nervous to eat. You pulled on jeans and a faded plaid shirt. You dug out your old tennis shoes and checked yourself in the mirror. Well, you didn’t look like the stuffy journalist without a clue but you barely looked like you knew what you were doing. You slung the strap of your small purse across your chest and headed out.

It was dark by the time you stepped off the train. You could feel the nerves bouncing around your chest. You kept to the shadows, watching, afraid. 

You watched a woman, not so obvious, approach a car. She wasn’t your typical Law and Order prostitute. Sure, her jeans were tight and her jacket a little short but she looked like any other woman in New York. She got in a dark car and it pulled away. It drove down the street and turned into a lot and your imagination tied it all together.

Several other women went about their transactions. You were shaken as a car honked at you and you waved the man away from the curb, careful to step clear of the glow of the streetlight. The first woman appeared again, her chunky heels echoed on the pavement as she began to her vigil again; a casual strut up and down the pavement.

You continued your observation and added notes in your phone. You edged closer without thinking as the illicit marketplace began to bustle. That same woman, the first you’d spied, surprised you as she stopped you from getting any further. She was tall and slender, her hair carefully bundled atop her head.

“New meat?” She wondered as she leaned against the edge of the storefront. You blanched at her and stepped back. “No, no, definitely not.”

“Uh, sorry,” You said softly. “I was just…” You hid your phone in your sleeve.

“Watching? Getting your thrills?” She chuckled. “Sweet little thing like you.”

You looked down, embarrassed.

“It’s okay. You think we don’t get all sorts.” She crossed her arms. “I can’t charge you for watching but maybe you were looking for more.”

“I’m not-- How much for an hour?” You perked up. 

“Depends what you want.” She said coolly.

“A hundred?” You offered.

“Just out here?” She wondered. 

“No, I…” You glanced around. A shining neon sign caught your eye from down the street. “A drink. I’ll pay. Plus your rate.”

“Lonely.” She mused. “Hiding?”

“Deal?” You ignored her implication.

“A hundred and a drink? I’ve done worse,” She replied.

🖋️

The bar smelled of stale alcohol and piss. The pungent odor drifted from the dingy bathrooms and filled the place. You sat across from the woman at a small round table away from the bar. She ordered Jack Daniels and you had a water. She warned you not to drink it. You didn’t.

“So, honey, what are we thinking?” She leaned on the table.

“I don’t-- I just want to talk.” You said.

“Talk? Mmm, oh you’re one of those.” She purred.

You pulled out your laminated name badge from your purse and slapped it down between you.

“I’m a reporter for Motley Magazine.” You said. “I really just want to talk.”

She sat up straight and her expression turned stringent. She looked around and shook her head. 

“I can’t--”

“Please, just a conversation.” You interrupted. 

“No, I could get in a lot of shit.” She hissed as she grabbed her fringed purse.

“Wait, I’ll pay double. No names, nothing that could give you away,” You stood as she did. “You say ‘stop’, we stop.”

She looked at you and inhaled. She chewed her lip and picked at the wood of the table. She sat slowly.

“One hundred now,” She said. You nodded. 

“If I hit the atm over there, you still gonna be here?” You asked.

“Sure.” She took a gulp of her drink.

You went to the corner, the atm screen was cracked but still operational. You stood as close to it as you could as you slid your card in. You were careful to hide your withdrawal as you crumpled your receipt and neared the table. You sat and subtly offered the folded bills to her.

She counted it and shoved it away. She crossed her legs and leaned into the wall as if to hide herself.

“So…” She began.

You introduced yourself and she reluctantly gave you her name as you assured her it would not be included in whatever came of your conversation. Her name was Rashida but her clients knew her as Ruby. She shifted as the bar door opened and glanced over her shoulder.

“I want to know about these assaults. More than that,” You kept your voice low as she leaned in. “I want to know everything.”

“Everything?” She blinked.

“I’ve been tracking these attacks through the papers. It’s just numbers; faceless women, some men. Relegated to the back sheets.” You explained. 

“For what?” She asked. “To make yourself a name?”

“No, not at all. I want you to be known. All of you. If people can contextualise the faceless, they can empathise, and that means they’ll talk.” You said. “I’m not stupid. The police, they don’t care about you, but they will care about those Upper East Siders who think they’re on some sort of crusade.”

She narrowed her eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know… much. I know Selene got it bad but haven’t seen her much since.”

“I don’t expect you to know everything, I just wanna know what you do know.” You said. “So start with Selene. Were you out that night?”

“Yeah. She wasn’t far from me, we’d talked a little. She was… excited. She had almost saved enough to get her girl into dance. She just needed a few more johns and she’d have it. It was a usual night, guys came and went, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“So when was she attacked?”

“Well, I was on a job and I got back and she was gone. I assumed she’d found her own but I never saw her again that night. I saw the article but didn’t know it was her until a few nights later. Stitches,” She traced from her forehead to her chin. “Works not so good for her now.”

“You know anyone else?” You probed.

“A few girls I see around but me and Selene, we got daughters. We try to take care of each other. Try.” She shook her head. “I… I don’t know.”

“The other girls?”

“Some of them haven’t come back after. Maybe they’re too afraid. Those who have, same thing. Sliced,” She repeated the motion down her face. “So we try to keep track of the weirdos and each other. Some girls are partnering up. One goes, the other waits until they’re back. They got these tracking apps so they can find each other.”

“Mmm,” You typed into your phone as she talked. “So you would say there’s fear?”

“There’s always fear. We see girls one night and they gone the next. It comes with the job but… something about this is so deliberate.” She said. “They’re not just hurting us but our work. Men don’t wanna look at a girl with a fucked-up face.”

“And you? Have you changed the way you work?”

“Well, of course, I’m more aware but that’s always how it is. You take note of everyone, everything. I got a thing for faces, you know? I try to memorize them.” She took another drink. “Even just those walking by. You never know.”

“Mmhmm,” You nodded as she finished the Jack. “Anything suspicious? Well, beyond the usual?”

“That’s the thing, nothing stands out. And it’s hard to tell. Half our customers are strange in one way or the other. Mostly harmless, lonely. It’s the pimps you gotta beware of…”

The hour passed quickly as Rashida spoke and you listened. She spoke more freely as the night wore on and you paid for another round. You were stunned when you looked at the clock.

“Fifteen minutes over,” You reached for your purse. “Extra twenty?”

“Whatever,” She said. “It’s… no names?”

“Promise. No names.” You paid her behind the empty glasses. “Rashida… do you think we could talk again? Maybe during the day? I’d like to get some of this on tape.”

“On tape?” Her eyes flared.

“For my own purposes. It will not be released. I’ll have you sign a waiver.” You said.

She rubbed her forehead and thought.

“I’ll pay.” You offered.

“Do you really think your story can help us?” She asked. “That these fancy New York millionaires will care?”

“I think it’s worth a try.” You stood and stretched a cramp out of your calf. “So?”

“You don’t needa pay me,” She said. “Not during the day. You just tell me where to meet you.”

“Alright,” You flicked through your phone and turned it to her, “Can I have your number?”

“Sure, babe,” She smiled and typed in her number before handing it back. “I’m gonna finish my drink. I’ll see ya ‘round.”

“I’ll be in touch,” You tapped the table as she sat back down. “Be careful, okay?”

She looked at you as she held her glass. She considered you a moment then nodded. “Thanks. I always am.”

You left her and pushed out the door. You were rarely out this late and never in this part of the city. You were suddenly very nervous. Alone. The woman had made you feel safe. She was much braver than you.

As you set off down the sidewalk, you heard your name behind you and the door swung shut. It was Rashida. She caught up to you as you turned back.

“Wait.” She pulled you close to the chipped brick wall. “I got an eye for creeps, I told ya.” She ushered you down past the bar and turned the corner. She stopped you just beyond it and held a finger to her lips and mouthed ‘listen’.

Two, maybe three, minutes and you heard the bar door. The footsteps wandered away and then returned again. She peeked around the building and drew back sharply.

“Carefully,” She squeezed your shoulder. “Look.”

You frowned and inched to the edge. You glanced around at the man in his hoodie. Tall with broad shoulders. He looked up and down the street and walked back and forth once more. He stepped out onto the street and took a slant across to the other side. He was headed for the subway; the same direction as you.

You pulled back and looked at Rashida.

“I seen him when you were hiding in the shadows. He’s better at it.” She said. “Didn’t think much, you know? As I said, the freaks come out after dark but then he came into that bar. He saw you, I could tell, was lookin’ for you. He ordered a beer but didn’t even drink it.”

The hair stood on the back of your neck.

“Following me?” You uttered.

She nodded and reached into her red jacket. She pulled out one of the twenties you’d handed her. 

“Catch a cab.” She said. “And keep your eyes open. He’s good.”

“You think… you think he followed me here?” You wondered as she turned and flagged a yellow taxi.

“All I know is he wasn’t here ‘till you were.” She said. “Too bad I didn’t get a look at his face. He made sure of that.”

You watched the car pull up and you gulped.

“Thanks,” You said numbly. “I--”

“Don’t thank me, babe,” She said. “I was happy enough to keep that two hundred and finish my drink.” She opened the door. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You slid onto the seat and she closed the door. You recited your address as she backed up onto the curb and watched the taxi drive away. You sat back and let out a breath. 

Were you really being followed? If so, how long had they been tailing you?

[ohtheclevernessof]

Scar and Sleep: Johny Cade x Reader Fic - Part 1

    It was a typical  Friday night at the Curtis house. Darry was picking up a extra shift at work, Soda was double dating with Steve, Dally was at Buck's and Two Bit was off getting drunk somewhere. This left you to watching movies with Johnny and your twin brother, Ponyboy.

Pony naturally picked the movie and despite him insisting to be the one to pick, you had to admit your twin had good taste in them.

     So as you three settled in to watch the movie you found yourself  squished  on the couch between Pony and Johnny.  Johnny has been friends with both of you since you were kids, so for years you hadn't seen him as more then that. It was only recently did you start to notice things, like how pretty his deep chocolate brown puppy dog eyes were or how cute he looked when he smiled which as late had been rare to your dismay. Or simply how well his shoulders has broadened and how he started to fill in all the right places.

Of course you kept all these sentiments to yourself because despite being on only five minutes younger then Ponyboy, all the gang treated you like their kid sister and you assumed Johnny saw you no different.

Although perhaps  all of this is why as the movie started you keep catching yourself sneaking glances at Johnny, studying his features curiously in the glow of tv and you hoped the low light would hide the slight pink on your cheeks from being so close to him.

     A little while into the movie, Johnny announced he's thirsty so he's going to grab a Coke from the kitchen and offered to get both of you one.  You say you will take one and Ponyboy half nodded for one since he was far too engrossed in the movie to look away despite having to seen a few times before.  It was typical for the gang to raid the your family's kitchen whenever they pleased and Johnny practically lived there so you thought nothing of him grabbing them himself.

     About ten minutes later though you noticed that Johnny hadn't returned and saw the the glow from the bathroom door being open.

You glance over at Pony but he hasn't noticed his absence so you got up from the couch to check on him. You head over to the bathroom and from doorway you saw Johnny inspecting a deep cut on his cheek with a grimace in the bathroom mirror

     You couldn't  help cringing as the memories of how he got it came flooding back to you.

It had been only three weeks ago and you remembered you doing your homework in your shared room with Pony,  when you heard your twin yelling for Darry. You had poked your head out of door to see what was wrong and gasped in shock as you  saw he was helping Two Bit carry a half conscious, bloodied Johnny through the doorway. Darry and Sodapop nearly ran you over as they rushed to help them lay Johnny on the couch but you quickly join them at his side.

"What happened to him? Was it his dad again?"you ask anxiously

"We don't know, Pony and I found him passed out cold in the lot." Two  said in a strange seriousness  for him.

"Y/n , go get the first aid kit." Darry ordered you  and you rush to the bathroom knowing exactly where it was because  you were always the one to tend to the gang's wounds after every rumble. So as you grab the kit you make sure to wet a few old towels too to help clot up the wound before you return to the couch, kneeling at Johnny's side.

As you gently begin to try and put pressure on the deep wound Johnny's eyes fluttered open, looking  around at everyone, trying to get his bearings straight. "Hey kid, looks like you're still with us. Can ya tell us what happened you?" Darry as softly as you continue  to try  get the wound to clot but the towel is already getting soaked in blood. The wound was allot deeper then you had ever dealt with when it came to patching up the gang and that included Johnny whenever his dad went after him.

Johnny groaned as he tried to compose his thoughts  despite the pain he was in. "Socs jumped me at the lot...there was 4...I think." Johnny  stumbled out and you could feel the angry tension in the room by the gang the moment he mentioned the Socs.

"Damn Socs, I'll kill them, I swear. "Steve mumbled under his breath as he clenched  his fists and Soda leaned in closer to inspect the wound.

"They pull a blade on you, Johnny?"he asked confused by how it looked as you were. "No...the Soc had lots of rings..."he said wincing in pain and closed his eyes trying dull out the pain. You looked back down at the stubborn deep wound nervously and then you look up at Darry from your place on the floor next to couch.

"Darry, I don't think I can fix this up. It's too deep and it's gonna scar real bad if he doesn't get stitches. I think we gotta take him to the hospital."you explained very worried.

Johnny's eyes shot open scared as he heard you mention the hospital and  tried to get up to run, but the boys gently stopped. You glance over at him apologetically, biting your lip.

"No Y/n, you fix it....please."he said to you weak from the pain of just trying to getting up. You knew why he wouldn't want to, hospitals meant cops which meant people from state which usually meant a boys home for broken homed Greasers like Johnny.

"I'll try to Johnny, but I'm no nurse."you told him as you grabbed another towel, putting pressure. It took for what felt like forever for wound to stop bleeding and you were able bandage it but you weren't  confident on how it would heal.

     "Does it still hurt, Johnnycakes?"you asked Johnny as you entered the bathroom and softly touched his arm . He was startled by your sudden touch and he jumped slighty but relaxes when he sees it's you.  "Nah...it just looks kinda lousy,  doesn't it ? Like you said it could." Johnny said with a sigh of disappointment, wondering if he should  have listened to you about the hospital.

You frowned  hearing that and leaned into examine the scar closer, which caused Johnny to blush a tiny bit at the attention you were giving him. It did look pretty rough but there was something else about it that was far from negative  that you noticed now.

"I think it makes you look tuff."you told Johnny with a gentle smile.

"It does?" Johnny asked as he blinked at you surprised, he hadn't really  thought of it that way, probably because to him he had seen it as a constant reminder of what that Soc did.

"Yeah tuff like Dally." you added, smiling a bit more at him. You knew how much Johnny admired Dally, he practically followed him around like a lost puppy when he was around,  so you figured if he thought it made him look tuff like him he'd feel better about the scar.

"Tuff like Dally." Johnny repeated to himself as to mull it over a moment as he looked back at his reflection and did his best imitation of Dally's smirk.

You let out a amused giggle and he gave you a weak smile

"Thanks Y/n." Johnny said as he faced you and he blushed a tiny bit as he did so. Your own cheeks turned pink as you smiled back at him.

     "Come on, you guys, you are gonna miss the best part of the movie and  I don't wanna have to explain it to you like I always  have to when I watch it with Steve." Ponyboy whined out from his spot on the couch, finally realizing that you both abandoned him.

You rolled your eyes with a smirk at Pony's whining and  Johnny laughed slightly at your reaction. "We're coming, man." he called out to Pony.

You both returned to your spots on the couch and for a brief moment Pony tore his eyes from the screen to look at Johnny confused.

"Where's the Cokes you were gettin'?" he asked.

Johnny and you looked at each other with light laughs, confusing Pony more before Johnny got back up to get the promised Cokes.

[gnarf]

Gnarf’s 2020

and what a fucking year that was... Anyways, let’s talk about the good things, shall we?

I made it through 2020 alive and without going insane! Yay! So lets see what else I did. (This is a long post)

In the beginning of 2020 I said I won’t participate in many fests. Only three or something like that. Lets check how that went!

Fests Gnarf participated in: 9

@lockdownfest @lcdrarry @hd-wireless @hpfluff-fest @hd-hurtfest @hd-fan-fair @hd-erised @gameofdrarry in drarropoly @wireless-festive-minifest​

Haha yup, three. Sounds legit. I also wandered off to try if I can art! No worries, I gave that up :D Mad respect to all Artists, arting is exhausting and the progress is too slow for me.

If you really want to check out my attempts, here’s what made its way onto AO3:

Dont Blink! for LCDrarry, it includes the Angels from Doctor Who and was a pain in the arse.

If you knew... was made for H/D Wireless and has the armiest arm i ever saw, very proud of that one. Its also the last thing I made.

Home Sweet Home was also made for H/D Wireless, and the first bigger art piece I tried my hand on.

A muffled groan which is rather explicit and I entirely forgot about making it :D it has a ficlet going with it too.

(I think theres other Art stuff here with the tag #gnarf draws or something)

I reached my yearly goal of writing 100k words once again!

Fics and Ficlets I wrote this year: 20(ish)

Better Side of the Bed (Lock Down Fest, T, 2k)

It was all Malfoy's fault. Harry could be at the Burrow right now, but instead he was trapped in Malfoy's tiny flat. All because that dick couldn't stop bothering him about a stupid life debt he didn't even care about.

Doing What's Best (G, ~800 words)

Lucius looked down at the little bundle currently sleeping in Narcissa's arms and felt terror shoot through his body. A little boy, his hair so white it was nearly invisible. Born only a few hours ago, taking his first breath in the light of the rising sun. Narcissa had whispered a welcome, her eyes wet, her smile bigger than ever. But they both knew, even though temporarily safe, he really wasn't. Draco was born into a world ruled by war. If only it'd end soon.

I better be hallucinating this (T, 3.8k)

After the war Draco Malfoy is sentenced to Azkaban for a really long sentence. Apparently aiding in Dumbledore's death overrules any argument Harry could put up for him. After the trial, as the days pass by, Harry is more and more outraged at the sentence. He can't stop obsessing over the fact that Draco Malfoy saved his life and aided him during the war and is very much capable of redemption. Not to mention that Malfoy has always been a delicate git and would never survive Azkaban. After a few weeks obsessing Harry decides that Malfoy indeed can't remain unjustly in Azkaban and starts to plot a way to break him out of jail and hide him in Grimmauld Place. When Hermione finds out she's not amused. Ron is horrified. Draco still thinks he's hallucinating.

Keep Holding On (Wireless, M. 33.333) A collab with @maesterchill​ who surprised me with lovely art for it!

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget. Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on the request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state. Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse. Making new allies, and losing old ones along the way, will hopefully be worth it in the end.

Age is just a number (Fluff Fest, T, 1.5k)

Married for decades, their life is perfect. Until Harry gets a call and hears the following words: "Mr Potter, we caught your husband stealing ten large packs of King Sized condoms."

There was still hope (Hurt Fest, M, 3.1k)

Draco winced as pain shot through his leg with every step. This secret, back-alley laboratory had been his last chance, last hope, to find the potion. But nobody had it in stock, and there was no time left to brew it himself. Panic was slowly overtaking his entire mind as he crept out of the store and back to the nearest alley to Apparate back home. He already felt off, and it was still early in the day. Of course this thestral-shit had to happen to him, of all people. As if life wasn't bad enough for him already.

Desire (E, 1.7k)

"Auror Potter, what a pleasant surprise to meet you here. What can I do for you?" "Stop the show, Malfoy. There's no one around, and I'm not here as an Auror." Draco watched Potter move closer until they were nearly nose to nose, only the small counter of his shop kept Potter at distance. Potter's eyes were dark with something Draco couldn't exactly name, his face was flushed and the air surrounding him felt somehow static. Draco felt the urge to lean further over his counter, to drink in his sight, to touch the man on the other side—but he didn't.

Drarropoly 2020 currently holds 7 ficlets and is in a Series. The highest rating is Mature and its 3.2k in total at this point.

Let's not wait for France (Fan Fair, T, 17.7k)

All Harry had wanted from his Eighth year at Hogwarts was a little peace and a little privacy but, from the moment that he stepped onto Platform 9 3/4, it was obvious that nothing was ever going to be that easy. An accidental bond with Malfoy that resulted in them having to stay together at all times was the final straw. Things couldn't be worse. So much to a quiet year in Hogwarts.

Love letters for the oblivious (Mini Wireless, T, 716 words)

Draco had gotten the strangest letters all week long, which wasn't what anyone needed at Christmas. Especially not him. Either someone was taking the piss, or he had a very dumb and inefficient secret admirer. And Draco didn't know which would be worse.

Double-Booked (Mini Wireless, T, 2.1k)

Finally, peace and quiet, and— "Malfoy?!?" Or the one where Harry thought he could enjoy a quiet Christmas far from everyone, just to find out that the cabin he had booked already accommodated another guest.

The best Christmas he ever had (Mini WirelessT, 1.9k)

Christmas had never been less appealing to him than this year. That was until Arthur Weasley showed up at his door, dressed as Santa, inviting him to the Burrow.

Anon Fests to be added

Whoever made it to this point: yoooo! Friend! Lots of love to you! I also got tagged in many get to know me posts, plenty of love in my Inbox giving me love slaps left and right (honestly, im bruised, stop slapping me), amazing person awards, top 5 fics, and whatever you can think of.

To make up for not answering most of them because I’m a horrible person:

My favourite colour: purple My age: I’ll be 30 next year in April, I expect gifts, I don’t accept first borns My favourite trope: eight year My favourite animal: cat My favourite ice cream: Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough Here’s my writing Playlist, it’s the worst you’ll ever see, and yes, I use YouTube, I’m old.

Other things that happened in 2020 that made me happy:

I kicked out my mentally/emotionally abusive partner of 7 years in January

I kept my grandma alive through this *waves hand at world*

I was able to share my birthday cake with my family becaus I got to leave my first quarantine a few days before my birthday

I got to keep my job

I found a lot of lovely friends in this fandom, and got to keep them through this year

My cats are their usual little jerks and actually enjoyed me being at home due to the raging pandemic

I finally cut off my hair

I’m about to hit 3.5k followers here and I love you all

I’m also tagging everyone who sees this and wants to do something similiar! Show us what you did in 2020, the things you’re proud of, and the things you loved! Let’s spread some happy for the end of the year 💜🥰

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 15

Chapter 15 is here.

Our gang is away on an adventure. Writing this chapter was actually quite fun. I really hope you will love it.

The song that Aelin and Rowan talk about on the beach is this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0uspq0Iq4tc This is a live version where Bruce Guthro sings it alone. For me it's an incredible love song and I think it's perfect for those two. It always give me goosebumps.

-----------------

As promised at 7am on the dot Rowan reached Aelin’s house, but the trio was already out of the house waiting for him. They loaded their bags in the car and they got on. Aelin taking the passenger seat beside Rowan. “I am in charge of the music,” she announced “I am going to make you listen to some amazing stuff.” And she looked at Rowan. He was aware he had created a monster and that Aelin had become obsessed with Peat and Diesel and Runrig. He smiled. “Can you cope with three crazy tourists in the car? Lysandra buys tacky fridge magnets as well.” “Yes, babe, that’s a bad habit.” Commented Aedion. “Thank you.” echoed Rowan. Aelin poked Rowan in the shoulder and he pretended to bit her finger and she cackled in response. Lysandra was attached to the window on her side of the car and Aedion had his chin on her shoulder and they were both looking amazed at the landscape.

“As a Londoner born and bred all of this looks alien to me. In a good way but so strange. We have been driving for twenty minutes now and since we have left town we haven’t seen a single car.” Commented Aedion “We are surrounded by moors and all these small lakes.” “Lochs,” Rowan corrected him “We don’t have lakes in Scotland. We call them lochs.” “So, is Harris another island we are crossing into?” Asked again Aedion who was super curious. “No,” replied Aelin proud of the fact that she knew the answer “Lewis and Harris are one big island, but Lewis is the northern part and Harris the southern one. They are quite different in character.”she pointed at the landscape outside “We are still on Lewis and the landscape is flat because it’s all peatlands. Once we cross into Harris, all of a sudden it gets rockier and hills just pop up.” Then she looked at Rowan with a smug face and he gave her a huge grin of approval. They were driving when Aelin shouted to stop.”Rowan pull over please.” “What? Why?” He asked and did as he told him. Aelin bolted out of the car and a minute later he saw her hugging the road sign. “Really?” “Look, it’s my village.” She shouted pointing at the sign saying Baile Ailein “It’s just a little different but it sounds the same and it’s my village.” She jumped in front of the sign and Aedion and Lysandra joined them. “Fireheart, it means Allan’s village.” “I don’t care, in Gaelic it looks almost like my name.” Rowan went back to the car and came back a minute later with his camera and snapped a picture of her. He was planning to have a massive collection of pictures of her by the end of the trip. “Get back in the car, we are in the Lochs area of Lewis and there are some incredible views.” They all listened to him and jumped back in the car. Aelin had taken a photo of the sign and was now posting it on social media bragging that on Lewis there was a village with her name. “Aelin, are you getting used to drive on this small roads?” Asked Lysandra noticing the skilful way Rowan navigated the narrow roads and wondered about her friend. “I am getting used to it. The first few times it was downright scary. Now it’s fun.” They finally reached Harris and they took a group photo under the sign that said “Failte gu Harris.” Rowan included. He had caved in the end. When a little later Aelin noticed the first hint of Luskentyre she squealed out in delight “We are almost here. Lys, look out of the window.” Rowan smiled at her. Her happiness was infectious. “Stay calm, and sit back down.” She had leaned all the way forward with her face almost against the windscreen. Rowan pulled her back. “You are nulling the seat belts.” She glared at him. Aelin began protesting when she noticed Rowan was not stopping “Where are you going?” “Shhh…” “Is this even real?” Commented Lysandra when they drove a stretch of road that was very close to the sea. She was stunned by the colours. She had seen Aelin’s pictures, but seeing it in real life was different. Rowan kept driving until he reached a parking space. “What is this?” She asked him. Rowan huffed “Will you trust me?” The four of them started walking the path and as soon as they spotted the beach the two women took off running shedding shoes and clothes as they ran straight to the waters. Rowan sighed “Are they always like this?” Aedion laughed out loud and patted the man on the shoulder “Welcome to my world, my friend.” By the time they reached the beach the two women were down to their swimsuits, their clothes scattered on the sand and were now in the water up to their knees both screaming in happiness. Rowan and Aedion collected the clothes and joined them on the shoreline. Rowan stopped when he noticed Aelin. Her bathing suit was blue like her eyes, but the his eyes trailed down to her full hips and her long legs. And then up again. He was paralysed. And he was glad he had two doctors in the group because he was going to be in need of CPR quite soon. “You feel exactly like I do.” Aedion added when he noticed Rowan’s face “I met them the first time in a bar. They were still interns. I had no idea which one to hit on. But Aelin was with the idiot already. I tried my luck with Lysandra but it took me a long time to get her.” “They are…” “Yes, we are two lucky men.” And Rowan grinned. Yes, they were. He finally managed to move again and reached Aelin, his arms went firmly around her waist and pulled her to him for a passionate kiss. Now that Elias was out of the picture they had finally allowed each other all the kisses they had held back before. And his mind went to the day in his office. “Do you like the beach?” He asked her against her lips. “I was never here when I came to Luskentyre. I stopped way down the road.” “I imagined, loads of people do that.” He kissed her again “But see those dunes?” He pointed out with his finger “we can walk on the sand around them and we reach a lovely spot that gives you an incredible view of Luskentyre.” She knitted her hands in his hair “No comments about my swimsuit?” Rowan grinned “The very limited piece of clothing you are wearing? Is that what you call it?” He played jealous for a bit “I hope you remember how to perform CPR because I will need it soon.”

A bit of distance away Aedion and Lysandra were having an intimate moment as well. “I have a feeling those two are going to disappear soon for a quickie.” Lysandra laughed and shook his head “They don’t do that.” “Well, their faces tell otherwise.” He replied. “They haven’t reached that stage yet.” And this time Aedion looked at his girlfriend in shock “They just kiss and hold hands. And apparently they only started kissing a few days ago.” “Lys, those are not kisses of someone who just started dating. That’s the kind of kiss I give you when you, I don’t know dress up with you amazing skirts.” “They are not even dating.” And now Aedion was stunned. “According to what Aelin said they did not put a label yet on their relationship. They are just taking it slowly.” “Uhm…” “But I have a plan.” She whispered “I was talking to Rowan at dinner and I did manage to find out the name of the cottage. I phoned them and found out that for their bedroom he had asked for two separate beds. I phoned back and told them there had been a mistake and that we needed two double bedrooms.” “You are wicked.” “I am just helping them. Aelin is happy and he is madly in love. They both are.” “Wicked, wicked woman.” He kissed her deeply.

It was forty minutes later when Rowan began being paranoid and gathering everyone back to the car. They quickly stopped at Scarista Mhor for some pictures and fifteen minutes later they were in Leverburgh for their ferry with still fifty minutes to spare and Rowan muttering that they had cut it quite too close for comfort. Once on the ferry, Aelin was disappointed that she was not allowed to leave the car. An hour later the ferry came to a halt and docked on Berneray, a little island that acted as arrival point and was connected to North Uist via a causeway. Once off the boat, Rowan pulled over to formulate a plan “Our cottage is twenty minutes away. What we can do is go there, check-in, dump our stuff and eat something. Then we can drive back here and spend sometime here on Berneray. On the way back we can go to Lochmaddy, buy some provisions for food and drive back to the cottage and relax for the rest of the day down at the beach and our ladies can even try and swim.” “Guys?” Asked Aelin turning her head to look at the back of the car. “I am good with anything as long as we get out of this car.” Rowan laughed “Fine, let’s go and dump our stuff and get settled down. Once that is out of the way we can finally start enjoy our holiday.” Aelin sat back and pulled her sunglasses down “Punch it!”

The cottage was in the most perfect location ever imagined. Lysandra and Aelin got off the car and had been staring at the views for a few minutes now. “Why bother going back to London? They need doctors here, right?” Aelin laughed and took her friend’s hand. She would have to tell her friend that she was not going back and she hoped Lysandra would understand.

Ten minutes later they were carrying the bags into the cottage and Aelin was impressed by Rowan’s good taste. The place was incredible. She saw him walk to what she suspected was their bedroom, but he was paralysed on the door. “Buzzard, you are supposed to go in.” Rowan turned and pointed at the bed. “So what?” “It’s a double bed.” “Again, so what?’ “I asked for two separate beds.” “Why would you do that?” She asked almost shocked. “I just… you know… I thought that you…” he fumbled “that since we are keeping things relaxed might not want to share a bed with me.” Aelin laughed, she pushed him in and closed the door and then pushed him to the bed “You can be so adorable.” She kissed him and pushed him until the back of his legs hit the bed and he sat on it. Aelin promptly straddled him, her legs at each side of his hips “I am touched that you care so much about my virtue, but that ship has sailed a long time ago.” He flinched. “Ro,” she caressed his face “Nothing needs to happen until you want it too. We can cuddle, kiss and be naughty without going the full way. It doesn’t bother me.” “Aelin, I want to… you have no idea.” He admitted staring into her eyes. “It’s just that….” how was he going to explain his feelings without sounding like a lunatic “I am an old fashioned idiot.” He blurted out “I only had sex with Lyria. I am the kind of guy who believes in joining that way actually means something. And I want to wait because for me it means commitment. And it doesn’t mean I am not interested in committing to you, because I am all in.” She left him talk, let him expose his raw emotions “We have just started this. Making love to the person I love means a lot to me. I am weird that way.” And he rolled his eyes, but when he looked at Aelin he noticed she had tears in her eyes “Are you crying because I am a pathetic fool?” Aelin kissed him trying to show him all the love she had for him “You are not pathetic. You are wonderful and I love you so much that my heart is about to explode.” She kissed him again. “And I love your old fashioned idea. I really do.” Another kiss “You are my weirdo. And just so you know… I am all in as well. To whatever end, remember?” He nodded slowly and lay down on the bed pulling her with him. “But I still want to kiss every centimetre of you.” She leaned over for another kiss. “Permission granted.” He replied sealing the kiss.

Twenty minutes later the four of them were at the tiny car park at that would give them access to Berneray beach. Aedion and Rowan collected the backpack and the two women again ran away ignoring everyone. “We have been reduced to carrying backpacks apparently.” Luckily, Rowan had convinced Aelin to put her stuff in his backpack. “Aelin kept her swimsuit on and she told me she is adamant she will swim.” “Lysandra was the same.” “No chance they got lost right?” Aedion was worried. Rowan laughed “Aelin smells beaches like a bloodhound. They are probably in the water already and the clothes will be all scattered again.” A couple of minutes later they reached the beach and as Rowan predicted the women’s clothes created a trail along the sands and both Lysandra and Aelin were already in the water swimming and playing. “Ach well,” said Rowan and removed his t-shirt leaving him in his swimming shorts. Aedion followed and they joined their women. As soon as they approached both Aelin and Lysandra began making appreciation sounds. Rowan too off to a run and jumped in the water and reappeared in front of Aelin. She looked up and heat spread to her special place. His shorts, now wet, hugged his shapes and her mind began wandering to very dangerous places. His hair was wet and clinging to his face. With a swift gesture he pulled it back and Aelin agreed with Lysandra’s comment. Rowan was sex on two legs. He closed the distance and pulled her in the water and in an instant she was kissing him, forcing herself to keep her hands at bay. “Let’s swim a bit. The water is gorgeous.” Aelin nodded and realised that Rowan was in his element. “Just don’t laugh.” “Why would I laugh?” He asked her pulling her to him again. “You are a professional swimmer. You probably look awesome and perfect while swimming. I don’t. I do breaststroke and I look like an idiot.” Rowan laughed “I don’t care how you swim.” He turned and took two powerful front crawl strokes and Aelin’s mouth fell open. It was a beautiful scene to watch him break the water with experienced perfection. She gained some courage and started swimming towards him and felt like a fish with clumsiness problems. In front of her Rowan stopped and swan back to her. “You are doing it wrong.” He stretched and showed her how to do it correctly. Then he placed his hands under her belly holding her up and she repeated the motions under his instructions. “Better.” He told her “It can be a tricky one to master. It requires coordination or you end up using more energy than needed.” Lysandra and Aedion reached them a moment later. “Can we swim to the island in front of us?” Asked Aedion. “I can, not sure you guys.” Affirmed Rowan “I have done it in the past. But we need to make it there and back.” “I can’t” said Aelin looking at the distance. “Me neither.” Added Lysandra “we girls can stay here and play where it’s safe. You boys go and have fun and do macho things.” Aelin walked to Rowan preoccupied “Ro, I am worried.” She admitted, caressing his tattoo, brushing the surgical scar marring his otherwise perfect skin “What if your shoulder…” “I will be fine.” He placed his hands on her cheeks “I feel good about this.” She nodded and decided to trust him. “Just look after Aedion. He is a fish too but he is not an ex professional.” “Will do.” And he gave her one last kiss. Aedion kissed Lysandra and the two men were off. Lysandra and Aelin were suntanning on the beach when they noticed their two men on the beach of the island waving at them. They both stood and waved back. “I didn’t know Aedion could swim that well.” “He is no champion like Rowan but he is good. He swims regularly and he can cover quite a distance. I usually join him but after a while I just move to the shallow side of the pool and soak until he does his million laps.” An hour later the two men walked out of the water and both Aelin and Lysandra looked at them with appreciation. Aelin had never actually noted how attractive Aedion was. He was just a bit shorter than Rowan, but he had muscles too, and a nice and tanned skin. And his blond hair reached his shoulder. “He is putting muscles on. He has found this place in London where they do medieval sword fighting. He has joined it and he is learning to wield a sword.” “No way. I want to do it.” “Do what?” Said Rowan’s voice in front of her. “Aedion has joined a group to learn medieval sword fighting.. It’s so cool.” “It is pretty awesome.” The man added shaking his wet hair all over Lysandra. “The idea of you with a sword is terrifying.” Rowan added while leaning on the beach towel at her side. In response she poked his sides finding nothing but hard muscles. “How was the swim?” “Gorgeous.” Replied Rowan brushing his hand through her wet hair. “It was incredible. I agree. Never swan in such pristine waters.” Once they were all dry they went back to the car and drove the twenty minutes needed to get to Lochmaddy. In the village they bought food at the local supermarket. On their way back, Aelin was staring at the landscape when she noticed and bed and breakfast and told Rowan to stop the car. The place was called Rowan Tree and she pulled him out of the car and forced him to take a photo in front of the sign. They got back to the cottage that it was almost dinner time and Lysandra kept telling everyone that she could not believe how bright it was. In their bedroom Aelin complained she needed a shower to remove the salt from her skin. She almost suggested Rowan to join her but then realised that naked in the shower could lead to other stuff and she wanted to respect Rowan’s desire. So they took turns and in the end she was glad she has the shower for herself so she could look after herself and reach the release that had been building up for a while now. The four of them had dinner together, cooked again by Rowan, and after their meal they decided to spend the evening the two couples each to their own. Rowan took Aelin down to the beach in front of their cottage. They found a nice spot with incredible views and they sat down, Aelin as usual between Rowan’s legs with her back to his chest. “You shoulder is bugging you.” She told him. She had noticed his grimaces of pain. He denied it. “Ro, the swim today was a bad idea.” He shook his head “I just have to retrain the muscles. I will be fine.” She huffed “well, tomorrow I am driving. You can be the navigator but I am driving.” “Driving is not an issue.” “Buzzard, you have this discussion with Lysandra. She is an orthopaedic surgeon. Be my guest.” He yielded “Fine, you drive, but you listen to me.” She leaned back her head and begged for a kiss “Of course.” They sat in silence until Rowan noticed she was humming Every River from Runrig and kissed her neck. “You are humming one of my favourite songs.” His arms tightened around her “It makes me think of us.” She kept humming. “All the ways of my life, I’d rather be with you. There is no way, without you.” He sang to her “or the second verse that says but you came to me like the way of children, simple as breathing, easy as air. This is you.” “It’s such a beautiful love song.” She felt him nod. They stayed on the beach a little while longer but at the first yawn, Rowan dragged her back to their room. Aelin reappeared in her Cookie Monster pyjama and Rowan smiled, then she climbed in bed with him. “I am the little spoon,” she ordered. He pulled her down and wrapped his arms around her pulling her body to his and burying his chin in the crook of her neck. “Another thing…” she grabbed his hands and moved them to her breasts “these, they camp here.” Rowan gave them a little squeeze “Oidhche mhath, mo chridhe.” “Whatever you just said.”

The next morning, Rowan had everything ready with the precision of a military officer getting ready for a mission. He made breakfast, prepared their lunches and filled their water bottles. His and Aelin’s backpack was all ready with all they needed. From fresh beach towels, to a hat, sunscreen a hat, sunglasses and his hoodie for Aelin in the off-chance the weather turned. He was pleased to see that Aedion was just as ready as him. “He is an ex-military brat. You two would get along.” Commented a sleepy Lysandra. “If we let things to you and Aelin we would be in bed till three in the afternoon and spend the rest of the day at home.” Rowan hid a laugh. He liked Aedion. “Ok troops, let’s march.” And while Lysandra was sleepy, Aelin was live and alert. In Rowan’s arms she had the best sleep in her entire life. They reached the car and Aelin took the wheel. “Why are you driving?” Lysandra sounded almost worried. “Rowan’s shoulder needs some rest.” “I noticed you seemed to have issues with it yesterday.” Lysandra added, with the eye of someone who did that for a living. “Old injury.” He flinched. Aelin took his hand and squeezed it. “I had a gym accident and suffered a complete tear of the rotator cuff. The tendons came off the bone.” “That’s a nasty one. What kind of surgery they did on you?” “They had to go for an open repair. The tear was far too big for an arthroscopic one.” He explained. “I have repaired quite a few of that type of injury. Rehab can be a bitch.” “Ro, just let me know where to go by the way.” “You are fine, keep driving, I’ll tell you when to turn.” She drove a bit longer “When we pass Clachan drive for a little longer the turn right at the first junction you see.” She did exactly that. “Now keep going until you reach the causeway and cross it. On the causeway the women were squealing. They had white sands on one side and blue waters and they had no idea where to look. Rowan pushed Aelin’s face “you look on the road, Fireheart.” “These roads are really small…” said Lysandra with apprehensive tone. “Now just follow the main road. Eventually it will finish and we will reach a farm.” They eventually reached their destination and Rowan gave her a kiss as a prize. For half an hour they wandered around the extensive white sands until Rowan called them back to order telling them that it was time for the main attraction of the day. Aelin tried to coerce a bit more info out of him but he refused. They were back in the car and Aelin kept driving under Rowan’s instructions “We are about to leave North Uist and go onto Benbecula, a very interested island joined to North and South Uist by Causeways and the whole island is pockmarked by lochs. It’s something quite spectacular.” Once they reached the second causeway Aelin stopped the car and very quickly she and Lysandra took some pictures. Back in the car an angry Rowan waited for her “You are not supposed to do that. That was a very dangerous manoeuvre.” “It was for a moment and there was no one coming anyway.” “That was a stupid thing to do. End of of the discussion. Now keep driving and at the junction there is a sign. Follow for Eiliean Fhloddaidh.” “The what?” She asked feeling stupid all of a sudden. “Just turn left at the junction, please.” His tone had a thick layer of annoyance. “Keep driving, pass the causeway and drive until you find the car park.” Five minutes later they arrived at destination, Aelin got off the car and slammed the door with a bit too much force. Rowan glared at her. Then grabbed her hand “Let’s go.” The four of them walked in silence for a little bit longer until Aelin spotted something moving on the rock “Are that…” “They are seals…” added Rowan with a big grin. “No screaming, you two. No touching, especially if there are pups. We keep our distance and admire them in silence.” They quietly moved closer and Aelin started squeezing Rowan’s hand “They are seals…” she whispered “They are adorable.” She looked at Lysandra and noted that her friend was in the same state of amazement as her. Rowan took out his camera and with the expertise of someone who had done it plenty of times he got closer without scaring away the animals. A moment later he noticed Aelin at his side. Her arms around his waist and her eyes full of joy and surprise. He took a picture of her while she was admiring the seals. It took him and Aedion a bit of time to convince their women they could not spend the day there and they had to keep going. They stopped again at another stunning location just after the causeway leading to South Uist, they had a quick coffee break in a lovely cafe then the two women did some shopping in two crafts shops. The second one was a place specialising in Hebridean jewellery and Rowan bought Aelin a simple necklace with a pendant as blue as her eyes and all the waters of the beaches she loved so much. Slowly they made their way south and Rowan had them stop at some archaeological sites. Aelin hugged a few more standing stones until they finally reached the pier in front of the causeway to Eriskay which Rowan explained was were they meant to go the following day to take the ferry to Barra. By the time they got back to the cottage they were all exhausted and after a nice meal, they all went to bed ready for their new adventure the following day.

The next morning was another early start as they were planning catching the first ferry out to Barra. Rowan had stated that he was the one to drive because he knew the road and they had a time issue at hand. Aelin yielded and let him drive. They reached their ferry in time and forty minutes later they docked in Ardmhor on the isle of Barra. Rowan kept driving and told them that they were going to a fun place. Aelin noticed the huge beach appearing in front of them and was ready for some excitement. Until Rowan parked in the small car park of what turned out to be an airport. Probably the smallest airport she had ever seen. “Let’s go.” Rowan took her hand and guided the group to a safe location. Aedion’s eyes were wide in surprise. “This is Barra airport. The only airport in the world where planes land on the sand.” Rowan checked something on his phone and Aelin was amazed how quickly he had learned how to use it. “A plane is due in, in half an hour.” They walked along what they discovered was called Traigh Mhor, which just meant Big beach. They all removed their shoes and walked in the water, until Rowan noticed the sound of a propeller plan approaching. Quickly they made their way to a safe spot, ready to admire the landing. “See the windsock? It means the airport is operating.” Rowan kept explaining “The runaways are under water at high tide so the schedule of the flights is very connected with the tides.” He moved the group off the beach while the plane was on its last leg of its approach. “Have you done this? Asked Aelin fascinated. Rowan nodded. “They only fly to Glasgow. And it can only operate by day.” Finally the plane landed and Aedion cheered “As an ex RAF pilot, this was awesome. I’d become a commercial pilot just to do this.” Rowan laughed. After the excitement, Rowan drove them all the way north to the top of Barra, and then they made their way back down and Aelin realised that Barra had one main road that was basically a circular around the island. Rowan took them to a few short walks until they eventually reached Castlebay, the main and only town on the island. They had lunch in one of the cozy cafes and in the afternoon they took a boat out to Kisimul castle. Back in town Aelin discovered a place that made toffee and she stocked up for life and Rowan made fun of her and her obsession for super sweet stuff. And to finish off the day Rowan took them to the gin distillery and they had a tour and Aedion bought two bottles for himself. Eventually they made it back home ending another long perfect day. Aelin was on the bed waiting for Rowan to come out of the shower and was flipping through the photos on his camera. “You took a lot of photo of me.” She said when he reappeared in his shorts and t-shirt ready for bed. He leaned forward and kissed her “I have seen these places a few times already. You are my favourite subject.” She put the camera down and a moment later he was hovering above her, caging her head between his arms, his head right above hers. He lowered himself and kissed her and Aelin moaned at the feeling of his body pressed on hers. Her kiss deepened and her legs locked around his lower back pushing his pelvis closer to her body. His hands traced her sides, sliding her t-shirt upward, exposing her breasts. The previous night they had gone a bit further in their cuddling and he had taken very seriously the idea of worshipping her girls. His mouth found its target and Aelin arched her back when his tongue flicked her hard peaks. Her hands fisted in his hair and pushed him even closer. And when his hand landed between her legs she had to restrain herself from a loud moan. His hand never actually touched skin but she was positive he could feel how wet she was. She could imagine his smirk, if it wasn’t that his face was buried in her chest doing wonderful despicable things. His hand sneaked under her shorts and stayed on top of her knickers. But the fabric was so thin that she could have been naked. His finger started rubbing in the exact spot where she wanted him and a shiver ran down her spine. Her back arched again, trying to find friction against his finger. She heard Rowan chuckle against her bare skin and his mouth sent her reeling. Damn, the man had skills. Eventually release came and Aelin had to bury her face against his shoulder to muffle the scream of undiluted pleasure that rippled through her. She felt her body shake and almost whimpered as she rode her high. Eventually she melted on the bed, Rowan lowered her t-shirt and took his place at her side, giving her a huge grin “I guess you will sleep very well tonight.” And that she did.

[emmakillianfan]

A Christmas Story for You

To @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ for Christmas. While I haven’t had as much time for it as I had hoped, I hope you are having a wonderful Christmas and enjoy this little story that kind of got away from me. Merry Christmas and a very happy new year to you!

Due to illness and post graduate studies I’m a bit rusty on the fanfiction story writing, but I hope you enjoy it. I have loved the opportunity to be your secret santa. As I said from the beginning, I’m a big fan of your writing.

Getting to Know You at Christmas

Emma Swan hated to mingle at these social events her parents held each year as a welcome to the holiday season. Her mother easily socialized with people, remembering names and details of each person’s life in the coastal town of Storybrooke, Maine. Her father was just as gregarious, shaking hands and clapping older gentlemen on the back as the mused over details of long-ago exchanges and funny occurrences that she never quite could understand. She liked people, even had friends. But there was something missing for her from the conversations and laughter that seemed to lift over the swell of Christmas carols and the flashes of lights from the tree and cameras snapping shots of huddled groups of friends, family, and compatriots.

“Your mother is worried about you,” Ruby Lucas-Gale said with a knowing smile as Emma reached for another mini pizza and shoved it in whole. “You don’t look happy.”

Keeping her lips sealed, Emma shot her friend a plastered smile and shrug.

“You could at least move away from the bar. She’s going to think this is a re-do of last year’s party where you went to bed with a bottle of tequila under each arm after telling everyone that you were sleeping until the new year.”

“I should have kept that promise,” Emma groused, giving a slight wave when her mother looked at her pleadingly. “I could have avoided the Christmas Karaoke party at Victor’s, the cookie exchange at your grandmother’s, and let’s not forget the pot luck at Regina and Robin’s where I was shamed for bringing your grandmother’s frozen lasagna as my contribution. Not only had Regina made one, but I didn’t even realize it was still frozen.”

“You brought a pie too,” Ruby reminded her. “I don’t remember anyone noting that was store bought.”

“I ate it in the car working up the nerve to go inside because my mother set me up on a date. Who does that? Blind dates on Christmas?”

“She means well,” Ruby added consolingly, patting her hands down her red dress that seemed to creep up her toned thighs each time she moved. “And Graham was…”

Emma held up one hand in protest. “Don’t defend him. First he was your ex. He was nice but a little or more than a little too intense with his whole getting back to nature and communing with animals thing. My mother has horrible taste in men for me. For a woman who believes in fairy tales and calls my father her prince charming, I don’t think she would survive a day on Tinder.” It had been the long running commentary at the parties that somewhere in the crowd was there to be set up with Emma. Some who did not partake in the dancing or singing along around the piano would try to guess who it was going to be this year. Bets were currently on about a gawky man with a green tie who was currently chatting up Zelena Mills in the corner.

“Just remember she means well.” Linking arms with Emma, Ruby pulled her friend out onto the makeshift dance floor and began to sway her hips to the beat of a modern Christmas tune that Emma knew was by some current pop singer. “So I’m guessing your next date is in here somewhere. Where oh where could he be?”

“You are annoying,” Emma pouted, folding her arms over her chest yet still swaying a bit to the up-tempo beat. “I thought you had money that guy in the green tie.” He was the typical type her mother would love to see her date. She could hear the school teacher turned public servant now telling her how she just knew he was the kind of guy she would love to get to know.

“Possibility,” Ruby said, tapping her bright red lips in mock thoughtfulness. “What about Archie?” He’s been hanging around over in that corner in a conversation with Regina and Robin for a little bit now. Seems to look over here every once in a while.”

“Everyone is looking at you, Ruby,” Emma hissed in exasperation. You are showing more skin that is advisable with the temperature and you’re currently bumping and grinding to Christmas tunes.”

“Maybe he’s setting up some pre-marital counseling for them. Okay…one of the guys from the mines? Leroy?”

“That’s a tad incestuous since they are practically my uncles.” Emma scanned the crowd to see her father and mother in conversation over by the French doors leading out to the patio that had been sprayed with twinkle lights and that included a new audio system he had spent the day fiddling with as her younger brother tried out the microphones in his own rendition of some sort of heavy metal meets classic rock rendition of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. He was just 14 and still at that awkward stage, suffering the embarrassment of parents who doted and friends who loved to point that out to him. Her own son idolized him though. “I’m thinking he’s a no show. My mom is in her plotting mode. Look at the way she’s talking to my dad.”

Sure enough her parents were furtively whispering, her mother holding up a hand to hide her mouth as though nobody would notice. It would be debated for years to come which of the two women noticed him first though. A slender, tall man with piercing blue eyes and sardonic smile seemed to rush up to her parents and hug them in turn. Even though Emma couldn’t make out the words, her father gave the man his double shoulder clap before spinning him about to the crowd and pointing out a few people.

“Maybe him,” Ruby said, lifting onto the balls of her feet even higher than her shoes allowed and balancing herself against Emma. “He’s a hottie.”

“Doubtful,” Emma noted, swinging her gaze across the room to the man in the green tie who was now eating a banana and doing nothing for his resemblance to a simian creature as Ruby had declared. “I don’t have that sort of luck. My mother doesn’t…” She never got to finish the sentence when she noted who had just entered the party and made a line straight toward greeting her parents. Neal…the once love of her life turned affection into weapons and her self confidence into a puddle of what if. She was better now, but the sight of him seemed to jangle her nerves in a way that made her doubt her recovery. They managed to co-parent their son with little trouble, but he wasn’t one she wanted to see socially. The fact he always had a date on his arm just added to her discomfort.

Ruby was one of the few people who understood. Twirling her in the direction of the mystery man who was now noshing on a few of the crisp veggies without bothering to dip them into the various sauces, Ruby leaned in and whispered loudly in Emma’s ear. “Don’t question it. Just go introduce yourself. It’ll be less awkward that way.”

Emma would forever question the logic in that, but for the moment felt her feet begin to move one after the other and in no time she was standing in front of him. His eyes were even more striking up close and she caught a whiff of his cologne that was a spicey scent that she would later blame for her mouth watering and her words feeling like they slid off her tongue without regard to custom or reason.

“Emma,” she said by way of invitation. Her smile was a little forced and her hand held out in mid air a beat too long as he shoved a celery stick in his mouth and raised his own in greeting. “I guess my parents probably told you that.”

“Your parents?” he repeated, the smiled he was giving her lifted higher on the right side of his face as did his right eyebrow. He seemed to be surprised by her, almost as if he was not expecting the conversation. That irritated her a bit.

She gave a wave over her shoulder to where they stood by the fireplace. “Mary Margaret and David. The Nolans. You were just talking to them.”

“Aye, David and my older brother went to school together back in the day. They invited me to…”

She brushed off his explanation. “No, I get it. It’s so them. They don’t think I have any skills in that area at all. Apparently, they have given up on finding someone local.” She shrugged and when he seemed he wasn’t going to answer, she reached across and grabbed a carrot stick. Placing it in her mouth she made a face and immediately removed it. “Rabbit food.”

“You do know how to flatter man, love. I’m not sure I would want to be just one of the multitudes.” His smile was wider as he watched her, his questions about her easy and slick as she tried to explain that her parents were young when she was born and waited nearly two decades before their miracle child was born. He seemed to know nothing about her, which was odd for a set up. Maybe he was just being polite.

“So you’re not from around here,” she asked when he paused to take a drink. Even over the rim of the cup his eyebrows raised again. “I’m the sheriff. I sort of notice things like accents. I do sort of like accents like yours. Different than other guys around here.”

“Boston by way of London,” Killian answered. “And you, love? Always a resident of this seafaring town?”

“Most all my life,” she admitted, leaving out a few pit stops along the way. “Mom probably told you that the best place to take me for a dinner date is Granny’s. She loves it there, plus Granny will spy on us and give her updates every few minutes. I’m more into this Italian place near the docks. Awesome seafood and pasta. And their lasagna isn’t frozen. It’s more date like, I think. You know, checked table clothes, drippy candles, wine, and all that.”

“A classic romantic?” he asked, clearly amused.

“Well, I mean if we have to go out, it makes sense to go someplace like that.” She held out her hand and gestured to his phone. “I’ll give you my number in case mom hasn’t already. A date is a date, but might as well get a good meal out of it.”

“By all means,” he said, handing her the latest device on the market. She noted that he did everything with his right hand, his left staying next to his side and covered in a black glove. She was about to mention it when she heard her father’s voice and laughter.

“You’ve met our Emma,” David said, joining the duo at the table and placing one hand under Emma’s elbow. “Our daughter can be a bit blunt. I hope she hasn’t insulted you or made you change your mind.”

“Dad,” Emma said, swatting him playfully.

“She’s been absolutely brilliant,” Killian answered, shoving his phone in his pocket. “By the way, love, name’s Killian Jones. I don’t believe I properly introduced myself.”

David nodded knowingly. “Killian is here to work with your mother on her bid for the mayor’s office. He’s a wiz when it comes to all things in local politics. Very highly recommended.”

“Work for mom?” Emma asked weakly, trying to ignore the not quite so humble smile that played about Killian’s mouth. “You mean he’s not…”

“Of course, Regina is taking time off to plan her wedding and then get settled into married life. She recommended Killian to run your mom’s campaign since Archie is considering and Mal has already announced. Anyway, it is good you met. Killian’s going to need to talk to you about your role in promoting our family. Maybe you can meet up at Granny’s later this week.” David glanced around the room and gripped his daughter’s arm harder. “I wanted to introduce you to someone I met when I was buying supplies for the farm. His name is Walsh.”

Emma stammered a bit, her face turning pink as Killian continued to hold that smile that showed both bemusement and cockiness. “Walsh…”

“Go ahead, love,” Killian said. “We’ll finish our conversation at this Granny’s or perhaps you might like the atmosphere.”

Emma was sure that her face was bright red as his eyebrows lifted up and down in a way that made her wonder just what lascivious thoughts were rolling around in that head of his. She felt those blue eyes on her as her father made another excuse and led her over to the man in the green tie who was smiling nervously at her and oblivious to her discomfort and not so secret looks over at Killian Jones.

She nodded appropriately and even asked a few questions about Walsh and his furniture design business. Her own rental was outfitted with castoffs and hand me downs that had seemed comfortable and worn at the time. He was telling her why it was important to have pieces that spoke of her uniqueness and character. At least that was what she heard on the occasions she bothered to listen and didn’t internalize the flinches and groans as her parents introduced Killian Jones to every person in the room. She wasn’t pleased to see most of the single women giggling and flashing him flirtatious smiles that he easily returned. There was no need to be jealous, but still the emotion was creeping up her spine as she watched him actually kiss Ruby’s hand like something out of a novel.

“I could show you sometime,” Walsh interrupted. She jumped at being caught unaware and repeated the words back to him in hopes of making some sense of the situation. “My shop. I have some really beautiful pieces I think you would like.”

“Well, if I am ever in the market,” she said, realizing that he was holding out a business card with his personal number written on the back. “Have you met August and his father Marco. They do some of the most beautiful woodwork you have ever seen. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~

“We were right about the monkey guy,” Ruby said defeatedly, kicking off her shoes and reclining on the bed in Emma’s childhood bedroom. The room didn’t quite do justice to the angsty teen she had been, but still boasted teen idol posters of boy bands and even the dollhouse brought by Santa one year. “But that other guy was cute and quite the charmer. Even I was about to hit on him. I had such high hopes for your mother.”

Emma flinched as she unclipped her hair and left it to fall around her shoulders in soft waves. “Yeah, so he’s not my set up of the year. Yet I asked him out, sort of. I don’t know. I made a fool out of myself.”

“He didn’t seem too offended,” Ruby suggested. “I mean I was distracted once Dorothy agreed to dance but every time I looked in his direction he was looking in yours. And I might add that was pretty often.”

“Right, he was probably trying to figure out what was wrong with me.” Emma was about to bemoan her embarrassed state a little more when her phone dinged out one and then another text message. She reached over to grab it and groaned with the realization. It was Killian. Ruby immediately wanted to know what he had to say and proceeded to inspect the picture he sent just in case Emma was confused if he was the guy in the green tie or not.

“Emma, you might have had a rough start, but he’s hot. And he’s clearly interested. Why else would he text?” Passing the phone back, she shrugged. “And let’s face it, you and commitment aren’t that strong of allies. He’s from out of town. Mary Margaret said he travels all over to do these little campaigns. I’m seeing excellent fling material.”

The text was taunting her, a coy comment about Italian restaurants and then a reminder of who he was with the picture. “I should answer him. I mean it would be rude not to answer, right?”

“Your mother would say not to be rude to anyone, but I’m telling you there is no reason to be rude to that guy.” Ruby reached over and grabbed a 10 year old magazine from the table, clearly bored with the conversation. “But I mean it is up to you. Text him. Don’t text him. Your choice.” Ruby flipped the pages casually, bringing up what dresses Regina was going to want them to wear at her wedding. She insisted that red wouldn’t be that garish at a Christmas event. It wasn’t until Emma refused to correct her that Ruby even looked over cautiously. “You haven’t texted him?”

“I was thinking about it.”

“You like him, don’t you?” Ruby propped herself onto one elbow. “It’s written all over your face.”

Emma shoved the phone back in her bag and let her head loll against the mattress as she sat cross legged on the floor. She rarely was in this room now, but somehow it felt comfortable and almost nostalgic to discuss dating and boys with her friend just down the hall from her parents. At least she wasn’t practicing writing his name with hers or anything like that. “I don’t get crushes.”

“You’re much too tough for that.”

Emma wasn’t exactly wrong about her aversion to crushes. She was in her twenties and already sheriff of the small coastal town. She wore practical boots or sneakers more than heels and her long hair had not seen princess curls in months. This event at her parents was the first time she’d worn a dress except to church. “If I did, and I’m not saying I do, what difference does it make. I’m a grown woman, mother of a 10 year old, and I have a career. I’m hardly going to make cootie catchers and see if his name comes up after saying some horrible rhyme.”

Ruby nodded thoughtfully and went back to the magazine. “Not to mention horribly ugly and boring. I don’t know how I put up with you.”

“You are going to pay for that one, Ruby,” Emma laughed, tossing a pillow and joining in as Ruby cackled with laughter. They were both laughing so hard that Emma barely heard the familiar chirp of her phone ringing. Holding up a hand to silence her friend, she shushed her and reached for it. She only hoped she sounded less winded than she felt as she said her own name and waited for the response.

“I hope I didn’t call to late,” a male English accent sounded on the other end. Even without seeing him in person, she could already picture that bemused smirk and light in his eyes. “I meant to check back with you, love, but time got away from me and then you were gone.”

“Oh um…good…I mean great…I mean you didn’t call too late,” Emma gestured wildly at her friend who was making choking signs in response to her word vomit. “But why did you call?”

“Well, love, you did give me your number,” he reminded her. “I tried texting, but didn’t get a response. I thought perhaps you were screening, but I had to give it a shot. I was hoping you might have a bit of time for me tomorrow – breakfast perhaps? I know you said you preferred that little Italian place, but I have never known such an establishment to be open very early. Perhaps that Granny’s, you spoke of? We could save the Italian place for our dinner date. I have been craving some ravioli lately.”

“Date?” Emma stammered, ignoring the way that Ruby looked ready to pounce. “I…”

“You did sort of ask me out and I must say it was a masterful way to do so. I would love to accompany you for dinner, Emma. But first we have a bit of business to discuss about your mother’s campaign. Breakfast then? 8 a.m.? Granny’s?”

“I’ll be there,” she answered dully as he spoke politely for a moment about thanking her for her time.

~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~

Emma’s father had not gotten the memo that she was going out for breakfast, as he was flipping pancakes onto a large plate as she descended the stairs, handed her son his permission slip for the field trip, and dodged the family’s collie that seemed to be underfoot. Her mother showed no signs of worry as she sipped her morning coffee and reminded Emma to wear a scarf and hat as she consoled her husband that there were not too many pancakes and Emma wouldn’t have eaten them all anyway.

She pulled her yellow bug up in front of the diner, taking the last of the spots at 8:05 a.m. That was early for her and not a big worry that she was late for meeting with Killian. That was until she walked in, kicked a bit of the snow off her boots (the black ones with a heel that were in her old closet and could not be described as practical – don’t judge), and spied Killian at one of the booths talking to Tink. The bubbly blonde was petite and perfect, a face and voice like a cherub in a painting. Every year she had the solo at the church choir’s Christmas Eve performance and every year people wiped away tears at her beautiful rendition. She didn’t look very angelic as she perched on the edge of her seat and leaned forward to talk animatedly with Killian. Her smile flashing at him and even an occasional stroke of his arm with her hand to emphasize a point. Even in the 90 seconds she had been standing there kicking her boots and unwinding the mile long scarf from her mother, she had watched the waitress stop by and lean across the table to give Killian quite the view down her shirt.

Ruby must have noticed too, as she left her spot behind the counter and fluffed Emma’s hair with an encouraging nod and a teasing note that Emma was wearing lip gloss. Spinning her with one hand on her shoulder, Ruby sort of nudged her in the direction of the booth with a hissed reminder to smile.

“Killian,” Emma said, ignoring the pout from Tink, whose real name was Isabella but didn’t want to be confused with the town librarian, Belle, “sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, love,” he said, scooting out to stand as she arrived. “I was going over a few notes for the kick off and Tink here was catching me up on some of the ideocracies that make small town politics so fun.”

Emma flashed a quick smile at her childhood friend, watching her slink out of the booth and tell Killian she was in the town directory if he wanted to call. He did not follow her with his eyes as she sashayed toward the door, nor did he smirk like Emma wanted to do when Ruby called after Tink to tell her that she still owed for her morning tea. It wasn’t that she disliked Tink, but there was that feeling that made her feel ill when she saw her flirting with Killian.

He gestured for her to sit down a simple glance toward the counter sent the waitress scrambling to bring them menus and take their orders. Or maybe it was just his order, as he had to call her back to get Emma’s. Despite his seemingly healthy eating style the night before, he matched her order of a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon. Granny had even fancied it up with chocolate shavings.

His questions were easy at first, wanting to know about her childhood and then her job. While a few were personal, he did not seem to be prying. She even managed to ask him a few and he offered some answers of his own without objecting too loudly and then quickly getting them back on track. She learned of his naval experience that paid for his education and how he had become involved in the campaigns and politics of small cities and his love of the ocean and aged rum.

“So is your position as sheriff an elected one?” he asked, casually resting back in the vinyl seat across from her.

She was taking two sips to his one when she noticed the way he smiled as he watched her. Instinctively she raised her hand up to swipe at the whipped cream that might have gathered on her nose but found none. “What?” she asked in exasperation. “Did I make a mess?”

“No, I am simply enjoying watching you share your experiences as sheriff. Your passion for it shines on your face, love.”

She knew she was probably blushing and rolled her fork through the home fries as a distraction.

~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~

For the next few days they saw each other often. There was the announcement of her mother’s candidacy where she helped place signage. She ran into him when she went to inspect a license of one of the vendors at the skating rink and ended up sharing a drink and conversation. While pondering which type of creamer to buy, he popped up out of no where and offered a suggestion. He was even there when the church choir had a rehearsal, claiming he was talking to some potential volunteers. He did apologize for that when the choir director called Emma out for missing two of her cues in a row because she was watching him, in the words of Regina, make doe eyes at her and silently flirt.

In the mean time, her mother had been talking up Walsh’s skills in design and potential as a date for Emma. There was now a gaping hole in the living room at the farm house where her mother was having him design a custom entertainment center. Her brother was already complaining that the television on the floor was not the greatest idea. Emma tried to explain Walsh wasn’t her type, but her mother wasn’t hearing it and was asking when she was seeing him again. Given that she had not saved his number and had mutually agreed with him that they weren’t really each other’s type it seemed unlikely. However, Mary Margaret was so cutely sure she had done well this year that Emma hadn’t the heart to tell her.

One morning over doughnuts at the station her mother read the speech Killian had written for her campaign and asked her daughter for feedback. Emma offered a few remarks as the woman adjusted the clutter on her father’s desk.

“I think he’s handsome,” her mother said at one point. “Kinda has that mysterious look to him.”

“Who?” Emma asked distractedly. “Dad?”

It was the pronoun game.

“No, I was talking about…” The phone ringing cut off what Emma was sure was a pep talk about Walsh. The conversation was left unfinished as Emma went to investigate the case of the missing trash can lids. Spoiler: some of the kids were using them for sledding.

It was a full two days later before she saw Killian again. Granted he had texted a few times and called her “by accident” when he claimed he had meant to call her mother to discuss strategy. He was humming a tune and scrolling through his tablet when she and her son, Henry, spotted him inside the library. Apparently, he had set up shop in the corner and had everything but a receptionist there to greet visitors. Her son, who had heard his name a few times from his grandparents, pointed him out in a totally obvious way that made Emma want to crawl under the table. Somehow she managed to take a few steps closer and do more than the wave she originally planned.

“Nice office,” she said of the table he had commandeered. “Quiet I guess.”

“It has it’s perks,” he offered. “I was heading over to talk to your father. He said he would be at the station this afternoon. I take it you are not?”

“Short break to get my son home before I go back to face the files on my desk.” She knew her son was already done checking out his three books and would be joining them any second. She only hoped he would not blurt out an inappropriate question. She was about to send up a silent prayer when she noted that the glove Killian normally wore on his left hand was off and a synthetic material prosthetic was in its place. Before she could say anything, he looked down at the hand as though surprised by it and shrugged.

“Naval accident, an accident.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize,” she said not sure what else to say about it. It was clearly an old injury and hardly one she had a blame in causing.

“Tis an old pain,” he told her. “Most days I don’t really think of it.”

She nodded, glancing at her son who was still in conversation with Belle. “Does that mean you are getting more comfortable with me?” She instantly regretted saying that, as it came off a little weak.

“You do seem to put me at ease, love.” He winked at her and leaned a little to the left as her son ran up beside her. “You, lad, must be Henry. Your grandparents tell me you are quite the author.”

Henry nodded enthusiastically and continued the conversation for a few more beats, nearly forgetting his mother was there. Even a comment from another patron, Will, that Killian was clearly trying to get to the mother through the son, went unnoticed by all but Emma who stood taller and tried to let it slide. Killian was quite the conversationalist, observantly noting that Henry was holding a book on piracy along the New England states. That really got them going until Emma reminded Henry that she needed to drop him off at home to meet the tutor and get back to work.

That was how she ended up with Killian sitting in her living room and then the two of them walking side by side back to the station to interview her father. He opened doors for her, asked her less probing questions, and complimented the way she handled one of the boys known for getting into trouble with a stern look and warning. She was starting to feel natural about it all when he stopped short at the wreath decorated double doors and scratched behind his ear.

“I was wondering, love,” he said, shifting his eyes to the door and back to her again. “Rather I was hoping you might…well, bloody hell, I was hoping to ask you on that date. I gather you weren’t aware of who I was or why I was here when you sort of asked me.”

“I thought you were the guy my parents set me up with this year. It wasn’t my finest moment.”

He smiled nervously, his lips tight and his eyes again darting to the doors. She realized he was looking to see if her father was lurking. “It was rather adorable actually and I was thinking…”

She closed her eyes as he searched for the words, something she was sure he rarely did in his life. He always seemed to know the perfect thing to say and the perfect way to say it. “Killian, you don’t have to…”

“And if I want to?”

“Then maybe we could meet up tomorrow evening? Or wait no…tomorrow is the winter carnival for the kids at the orphanage and I am hosting the movie portion. Maybe Thursday…no Henry’s got his soccer game. I would say Friday but I’ve got choir practice and Saturday is mom’s campaign rally.” She truly looked sorry about her schedule as she shifted from one foot to the other.

“Busy lass,” he muttered. “I suppose we’ll have to consider another time. Or by chance are you free this evening?”

Biting down on her lip, she closed her eyes briefly. “I want to say yes, but my father is in there and I’d rather not mention this to him. And given that my son is likely to either eat potato chips and chocolate milk for dinner, stay up past bedtime for video games or inappropriate movies, or worst yet burn the place down in an attempt to see what he can melt in the oven, I’m thinking I need a back up babysitting plan that doesn’t include my parents.”

“Rather not hear the I told you so? Or are you hoping to keep me your little secret?”

“My parents are a little on the enthusiastic side when it comes to my love life.” She tilted her head back for a moment and then made eye contact again. “I have a plan, but you have to swear to me that we won’t be going to Granny’s or any place else they would be spotted.”

He assured her that paper napkins weren’t on the menu. “I have no issue with being circumspect, love. Trust me, I can plan an evening for us.”

If she didn’t trust him, she didn’t show it as he ushered her inside and greeted David. His cheeks were a little red from the cold and she knew hers were too. However, David never seemed to notice their conversation outside. She saw him pulling out his notes when she spoke up and asked David if Henry could perhaps have dinner with them. She managed to ask nonchalantly, simply a scheduling glitch.

“Any particular reason,” David asked, barely hiding his smile.

“I’m going out,” she answered vaguely, crossing her denim clad legs and pulling a stack of files into her lap. “Did you see Leroy’s file? I need to check about his court date.”

“Haven’t seen it. Anyone I know?” He was trying to watch her in the reflection of his computer screen, sneaking a few knowing looks at Killian who was flipping casually through his notebook.

“Oh you know,” she said, pausing to look at a document, “that guy from your party.” She didn’t want to lie to her dad, but she could tell he was not going to let up. It was one thing to have her father believe it was Walsh but another to flat out tell him that.

Killian seemed to understand, interrupting the awkwardness with a cheeky smile. “Since Emma appears to be on a deadline and you’ll be entertaining the lad this evening, it sounds like we need to get through these questions to prepare your wife’s talking points. Let’s start with the most obvious. You have a role that is second in command here at the station and in the community. How does that work with you effectively reporting to your own daughter?”

Emma let out a little sigh and as her father droned on about how proud he was of her, she shot Killian a grateful look. Her father seemed to take pride in both his work and how well she did her job, showing him pictures of celebrations after tough cases were solved and the commendations she had gotten from the governor. Most grown children worry that they aren’t successful enough or are somehow a disappointment to their parents. Emma didn’t have that worry when David Nolan talked about her.

He was still talking about how well Emma had worked with Regina who was stepping down to concentrate on her new life when Emma slipped out to change. Neither he nor Killian seemed to notice that she almost spoke up twice to tell Killian that maybe tonight wasn’t the best timing. Then she reminded herself of Ruby’s advice. He was a nice and more than good looking man. He didn’t even live here. So what if she went out with him. It was just fun.

She repeated that to herself as she went to her car to head home and change. That is until the realization hit that she didn’t really have anything to wear. A trip to one clothing store in town would rouse suspicion and the tailor was a friend of her mother’s. There was only one place to go.

~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~

“No leather, no spiked heels, no red, no plunging necklines, and I would preferably like to sit down without flashing everyone in town,” Emma said as Ruby dove into the bowels of her closet up above Granny’s. The woman had squealed, hugged Emma, and asked if certain parts had been shaved or waxed. Emma assured her that was not an issue and that she just needed something that didn’t have the capacity for her shoulder or hip holster. Ruby had of course said she had just the thing.

With no sign of her wardrobe addition, Emma looked at her phone and two unread texts.

Killian: Your father is in search of your old scouting badges. I feel like we should have code words. Perhaps not. Meet me at the docks at 7?

She answered quickly, not wanting Ruby to interfere with the response that would probably be inappropriate. A quick see you then and an internally debated smiley emoji would have to suffice. The next message was from her mother.

Mom: David says you have a date. Very exciting. When you come by to pick Henry up, I want to hear all about it. I’ll wait up.

Her mother was going to be an issue. She loved the eternal optimist that was her mother, a woman who had more than her fair share of darkness, including losing two parents early in life, but rose above it to see the good in people. Wasn’t that what Emma was doing. She was seeing the good in Killian despite the voices inside that said this was a bad idea. Well, she could rationalize it that way. Her mother truly wanted a happily ever after for her daughter, something even  Emma couldn’t disagree with in scheme of things. The fact that her mother even believed in such things was pretty amazing.

Ruby emerged with a black dress that looked more like a set of random strips all stitched together. Beneath it was a red dress that flared out and looked more appropriate for dancing. And beneath that was a soft mauve frock with a full skirt and wrapped bodice. She knew that was the one she wanted to wear, but knowing Ruby she had to at least try the others. Half an hour later she was wearing the lighter colored dress, matching nude heels, and her hair was what her friend called casually curled.

She was standing with her arms crossed for warmth at the docks at 7:01 when Killian emerged from one of the sailboats with a single red rose in his hands. “Apparently,” he said, steadily walking the gang plank despite the swell of the waves that had her not quite sure if she was standing still or not, “it is nearly impossible to procure just a rose this time of year. You almost ended up with a pot of poinsettias.”

“It’s beautiful,” she remarked. “You didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

He assured her that it was no trouble and that she was beautiful herself. Below deck he had a small table set with real dishes and flatware, a bottle of wine and containers of pastas and sauces from the Italian restaurant she had mentioned. The only thing, he mused, was that he could not do the candles since such items were not really safe on a boat.

“Confession time,” he said, clinking his glass with hers. “I borrowed the boat. I don’t have one here in Storybrooke.”

“I knew that,” she admitted. “It’s my uncle Leroy’s boat.”

“Short man, scruffy looking, kind of grumpy?”

“Always grumpy, yes. It’s nice of you though. Not too many prying eyes.”

He took a sip and pondered that for a moment. “I take it that you would prefer to keep things clandestine just in case. I am also guessing that you gave the information to your friend Ruby just in case I turn out to be a murderer.”

“I can take care of myself.” She squared her shoulders off.

“Aye, I believe you can, love.”

The rest of the meal passed with pleasant conversation and only a few awkward pauses that were usually filled before it got to be too much. Killian had even brought along a set of speakers to stream music allowing them to dance. It was a tough that even Emma thought was sweet as his arms were around her in a way that she admitted fit. She wasn’t sure how much life was left in his phone or when the clouds that had been building all day would open up with snow, but time seemed to stand still as they swayed. Her eyes closed and her head resting against his right shoulder. He lifted their entwined hands and softly kissed hers. She was glad her eyes were closed and her head nestled against his chest.

She could feel his breathing change and his hold feeling tense. Her name came out as a whisper from him. She lifted her head and found his eyes searching hers. “Emma? I would very much like to kiss you.”

“I’m not sure you can handle that,” she teased in just as soft of a voice. Yet she closed the space between them and let him close the rest. Their lips touching softly at first and then with more passion. Her hands gripped at his shirt, pulling him toward her and his hand hovered at her hair before threading through it with a sort of awe she had never experienced.

They might have stayed like that for a while had the siren of her dad’s cruiser not shattered the cold and quiet night. Maybe they should have stayed below deck, ignored her father’s presence on the docks. However, that plan faded as his footsteps grew closer and she knew, just knew that someone had spotted them on Leroy’s boat and reported it. Resigned to the fate that her father was about to find out who her date was with and probably have an opinion about it, she took a step back and turned to climb up into the cold. While he said nothing, Killian placed his own jacket, a worn leather one, over her shoulders. It was a gentlemanly gesture and one that shouldn’t surprise her.

“Dad?” she asked, holding one hand over her eyes to shield it from the giant flakes falling silently from the sky. “Did something…”

Her father looked startled and even a little embarrassed to see her there. His breathing was normalizing when Killian emerged too, which sent his eyes wide and his gasp of surprise sharpening. “I didn’t realize…”

“Everything okay, mate?” Killian asked. His dark colored shirt and black vest offered little warmth against the plummeting temperatures. However, he did not indicate it by shivering or otherwise complaining.

“Sure…I mean I was just answering a call about someone attempting to break in cars when I saw Emma’s bug. Someone said they thought they saw the suspect run this way and…”

Emma gave her father a nod, taking a deep breath to switch back into her role as sheriff. “Any description?”

Her father’s eyes drifted to where Killian’s hand was covering hers and giving it a slight squeeze of reassurance. They narrowed and his voice faltered as he answered, “light colored hair, red sweatshirt, about 5’9”, thin.”

“Sounds like a juvenile,” Emma assessed. “I’m assuming we don’t have any camera visuals. Last time we investigated over here the cameras were malfunctioning and I haven’t noticed…”

“Emma,” her father said, his boots shuffling a little on the worn planks of the dock that were beginning to be covered in snow. “You don’t have to…I mean…You’re on a date…I guess you are.”

“Well, yeah,” she said, glancing at Killian who seemed to be enjoying the moment. Suddenly she felt the urge to clear up the misconceptions she had caused. “I didn’t mean to…” She cleared her throat. “I know you probably thought I meant I was seeing that Walsh guy.”

“Your mother’s buying an entertainment center from him,” David answered with confusion. “It’s not my business who…but where is Walsh?” He did manage to lower the flashlight and seem less ominous there on the docks, but still had his hand on his hip and was rocking backwards as he waited for explanations.

“I’m not really sure. I haven’t exactly seen him since the party.” Emma glanced at Killian who was standing closer to her than she realized. That wasn’t exactly unpleasant as a prospect. “Killian and I…”

“You and Killian,” he father parroted with the confusion that it hadn’t dawned on him. “You and Killian what?”

Killian gave her hand another squeeze and took a step forward as though offering himself as tribute. “Aye, mate. I do fancy your daughter and she and I have been spending time together.”

Blinking back at them, David appeared to running through the occasions he had seen them together and attempting to digest this information. “So the conversation about intentions toward Emma should be delivered to you and not Walsh?” It was too dark to know for sure, but Emma thought he looked a little disappointed.

She reminded him that there was a potential thief on the loose and he assured her he had it under control and to go back to her date. Killian just sort of shrugged and offered his analysis that it wasn’t that much of a secret after all. They talked a bit longer, took a slow walk toward her car, and both hopped in with him saying he would walk to Granny’s after she was safely at her parents with her son.

“That’s ridiculous,” she said, speeding up the wipers against the snow. “I can drop you off. No need for you to freeze.”

He looked toward her in the dark car and gave her a soft smile. “Your father is bound to have told your mother about our date, love. I know you had hoped to keep it secret. I only wanted to offer my services should you want them to fend off her disappointment and concern.” He jumped when she placed her hand over his prosthetic.

“I didn’t mean for it to be a secret. I guess I just don’t want to disappoint them with another failed attempt at matchmaking. My mother has to be ready to give up by now.”

“Perhaps,” he said thoughtfully, “she might have to give up anyway. If we were to date, surely she would not attempt to replace me each year.” Her hand jerked away fast, something he noticed. “I hoped you might want…”

She sighed, turning her car off the coastal road to the one that led toward town. “Killian, I am the one who originally asked you out. Even if that was a misunderstanding. I had fun. I enjoy spending time with you. But…”

“But?”

“But we live in two different cities. The special election is going to be over next month. What kind of relationship can we have when you’ll be off on your next job and I’ll still be here? I’m not 18 and free to wander around after you. I have a job, parents, a son, and responsibilities.”

“We could…”

“Killian, I like you. I like spending time with you, but I’m not interested in starting a go no where or long distance relationship. I want more than a pen pal. Think about it. You do too.” The driveway of the farmhouse was coming into sight and then disappeared as she passed it. “I’ll take you back to Granny’s. No sense in talking to my mother about this. We’ll just say it was a one time thing.”

“As you wish.” His voice was quiet, deep, and almost wistful.

~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~ CS ~~

As the holidays grew nearer, Emma’s parents and Killian went into campaign overdrive. There were photoshoots of the whole family on the farm. Her mother even managed to sneak in a few candid shots of Emma and Killian. Speaking of Mary Margaret, she was only mildly disappointed at Emma’s secret that she was not seeing Walsh. That was quickly erased as she said she had considered setting her daughter up with Killian, but was quickly dissuaded when her internal voice said her daughter would object. Nobody corrected her on it.

For his part, Killian worked hard and would try to sneak in time with Emma. They shared a few lunches, walked around the farm discussing a few strategies, and shopped together for a present for her parents. He sat with them on Christmas Eve when Emma performed with the choir for mass, looking just as in awe and proud as her parents did. He even joined them for the evening meal on Christmas, leaving behind a gift for Emma rather than making a big deal of her opening it in front of everyone.

As the wreathes were removed and the snow seemed not as white, the election day finally drew close and Killian was even more of a fixture. He was constantly showing up with a new tactic and shoving his client in front of cameras to announce a proposed initiative. Everything from illiteracy to hunger would be addressed by Mary Margaret Nolan for mayor. When election day arrived, more than 60% of the voters chose her and he beamed proudly from the sidelines. Most people noticed the hug shared between Emma and Killian, but it seemed to be just part of the celebration. It went so long into the night that nobody really saw the two of them saying goodbye the next morning.

“I wish it was different,” she admitted, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Perhaps someday, love. After all, nothing stays the same.”

She watched as the Uber driver loaded his bags and Killian reluctantly slid into the backseat. Their eyes were locked and the unsaid words hung in the air. She wasn’t sure she even breathed again until she was pulling up in front of her parents’ house. Her father was flipping pancakes, but her mother was at the doorway even as she dragged up the steps of the front porch.

“I like him,” her mother said. “He’s a good man.”

“Yeah,” Emma agreed, accepting the hug and hurrying in before the next gust of wind. “I just…I don’t want this every time we see each other. I don’t want to miss him and have the constant feel like a clock is counting down the hours.”

“I know, Emma. And that is very practical, but if you…”

Emma didn’t wait for her mom to finish the statement before greeting her father and asking about setting the table. It wouldn’t be the last time that her mother brought him up. She would over the next few months, mentioning seeing him at some event or another. Emma never asked, but her mother would always update her on his well being. It wasn’t that Emma didn’t know. He still called. He texted. When he was in the area he would invite her to dinner or to an event. She occasionally went but always told herself it was just casual. He never tried to kiss her again and she never sat herself too close to him, despite Ruby’s advice to do so.

A book he had mentioned to her once said of the protagonist and her lover turned best friend, “they would continue to call and write until eventually they were just acquaintances and no longer a real part of each other’s lives.” That’s what Emma resigned herself to when he didn’t answer her text or voicemail inviting him to her parents’ annual party. He’d been pretty scarce for the past few weeks. Their conversations short and usually interrupted by something or someone. She once even heard a female voice in the background and wondered if he was seeing someone. That idea hurt more than she wanted to admit.

She wore red to her parents’ party, her hair hanging loose and the smile on her face tense and unyielding. She was sipping on champagne and watching as Regina and Robin twirled around the room still in bliss nearly a year after their wedding. Walsh was there too, dancing with Zelena and inking a new design deal with Marco. Neal had brought Tink as his date, which made Emma roll her eyes. And her parents were at their prime greeting and hugging all of those in attendance.

“Emma,” her mother called out when a few more guests were greeted. “Come here. I want you to say hello to someone.”

Ruby gave her a sympathetic look as Emma begrudgingly dragged her feet over to where her parents were standing. And there he stood, Killian in a freshly pressed suit with a wide smile on his face as she approached. Her mother was giddy as she mockingly introduced them. “Emma, you remember my old campaign manager, Killian, right? Well, he was in town getting settled because his new job at the governor’s office starts next month. I was thinking that he might be just the kind of guy you’d like to get to know.”