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broadwayandnetflix · 4 years ago

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Slow Down - Bill Hader x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: Fluff + 1/4 of Angst

Summary: Hi I’ve literally been binging all of your fics and I didn’t know if you were still taking requests, but I was wondering if I could request an imagine with Bill Hader where the reader is sick and passes out at SNL and Bill helps them and takes them home

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Ahh thank you so much for your patience @bduchrnskei I really hope you enjoy this fic and it met your prompt expectations. I absolutely loved writing this one amongst all of my evil schoolwork, but what can you do?

Living in a small-sized New York City apartment was not all that it’s cracked up to be. Whether it’s the heavy traffic and clutter of construction that never halts or the extreme temperatures during any season.

In this case, in particular, winter.

Or, more specifically, in this case, your heater broke, and it had become like an iceberg within your apartment space. As stated by your landlord, the repairmen were supposed to come on Saturday night, and as of right now, it was Thursday.

So bundling up had to do, in a way, you kind of missed the heater’s incessant rattling, as it had become a sort of a white noise these last few months.

You hadn’t been in New York City for very long, a little under a year, maybe? It wasn’t like you to pack up and move randomly to the Big Apple, but after clearing a spot as a new cast member with Saturday Night Live. It was most certainly a must.

Ever since you were little, you’d always had a knack for making others laugh or just getting to see someone smile. Saturday Night Live became your goal, and to secure it was like winning a million dollars. Even if it meant having to endure New York’s extreme seasonal changes.

This week was no different in the typical workflow; you were technically a new cast member. So the number of sketches you had been in was significantly limited. Still, you loved it nonetheless, with the lack of skits that you had been in lately allowed you to get to know your cast members more.

Specifically, your other recurring cast members like Nasim Pedrad and Jenny Slate, the three of you would often meet up for coffee on Sundays. Taking the time to decompress and discuss your favorite sketches of the week. It was nice to have a group of people you could relate to and find solace in, especially when the weeks became stressful or exhausting.

And oh boy, did your week’s become exhausting, especially on Saturdays. You shuddered at the thought of dress rehearsal as it stretched late into the night; losing sleep was worth the excitement.

You looked at the clock, it was nearing close to four in the morning, and you still had been awake at this point. Maybe it was the cold or the thousands of thoughts swirling through your mind, much like the snow accumulating outside.

Work was gonna be a bitch tomorrow.

You sneezed at the thought, sighed, and made sure to set your alarm before letting sleep take over.

You awoke with a headache and a blaring alarm that was erupting from your phone. Groaning, you shut the phone off and tried to ignore the incessant pain protruding from your forehead.

Swallowing some painkillers, you got dressed, grabbed your keys, and headed to work. Totally not picking up a coffee and a breakfast sandwich on the way.

“Why good morning Y/N!” Jenny chirped as you walked into the room, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“You sound oddly chipper, what happened?” you said as you put down your stuff, eyeing her curiously.

“She got some sleep, that’s what happened.” Nasim replied, nursing a cup of coffee in her hands, giving you a sleepy smile.

“Lucky duck,” you murmured, instinctively reaching for your coffee as well. It coated your throat nicely, you sighed in content.

Jenny only smirked before starting up another conversation with Nasim; you let your eyes wander across the room. Everyone in motion, working hard to make sure shit got done. That’s the thing about working at 30 Rock; no one ever really stopped moving.

One thing that you still had not gotten used to was Monday’s. The grueling and exhausting twenty-four hour stretch period of planning and concocting up sketches. It was a scary feeling, as if you could ever compare to everyone else.

Every now and then, a pitch you threw into the ball pit would get picked, the tiny butterflies in your stomach reminding you why you did what you did.

Your eyes landed on a particular figure as he strolled into the room. His hair beautifully tousled, eyes half-open, and shirt resting ever so comfortably upon his chest. You diverted your eyes quickly, only to feel yourself begin to sneeze.

Fuck, for the love of all that’s holy, please do not sneeze in front of Hader.... too late.

He looked up, meeting your widened eyes, and gave you a soft smile. It lingered for a bit until Andy swept up from behind and hugged him along by the arm. For a second, you could’ve sworn he was gonna look back, but Andy had appeared to say something.

“Bless you!” Nasim and Jenny said in unison.

You mouthed thanks and leaned back against the wall, replaying the scene over and over again.

“Thinking about Hader again?” Jenny asked, following your line of sight, as she nudged you in the side playfully.

“Jenny! Not too loud, he might hear you.” you frantically whispered, a stern look aglow in your eyes.

“Oh honey, it’s so obvious.” Nasim chimed in, Jenny nodding eagerly in response.

“Plus he’s too far away, you’re more than safe Y/N, I think it’s cute that you like him. All the more reason to make fun of you.” Jenny says quickly before she is shoved by Nasim.

“I’m joking! I’m joking! Okay maybe not fully joking.” Jenny yelps, giving you a wicked grin.

You groaned, rubbing your hands over your eyes in embarrassment. It was so bad, crushing on cast members, but man, was he handsome. Although you had denied it, a lot of your favorite sketches from the past weeks always seemed to involve Hader.

It was not like it was gonna go anywhere; you two barely spoke, and plus you’d probably be a mess if you did. Every now and then, though, you’d often find Hader sitting beside you at table reads. His laugh is always so goddamn infectious, and Jenny and Nasim eyeing you playfully like schoolgirls.

God, you were a mess, and it seemed like everyone knew it. Maybe even Hader knew; let’s hope he doesn’t.

“You know Y/N, I’ve never seen Hader as shy as he is when he’s around you. I mean the man literally sniffed my hair yesterday,” you quirk a brow, “But- but with you, he’s soft” Nasim’s voice crowds your thoughts, and you instantly look up to meet her in disbelief.

“Bullshit.” you retort, trying to ignore whatever attempt she was trying to make.

“Girl, you’ve kind of got a point. He’s not as jokey as he usually is whenever he’s around you Y/N.” Jenny adds, only to be interrupted by Lorne calling for a meeting.

Ah, how could you forget? Dress Rehearsal. While these days didn’t run as long as the others, they were equally draining and stressful. The three of you walked to Lorne’s office just in time as the rest of the cast stood beside you.

You felt yourself to begin to shiver unexpectedly, hugging yourself tightly. Since when was 30 Rock so cold? You felt Nasim look at you questioningly, and you shrugged her off.

Lorne had discussed the skits’ arrangements for the day, murmurs of excitement beginning to spread like wildfire around the room. Everyone just itches to get out and see if their sketch would succeed or bomb.

You took your seat in the audience as the sketches would come and go, meeting your cues whenever necessary. At the same time, your painkillers had seemed to wear off as your headache only seemed to get worse.

You made your way backstage to find the building’s first aid kit, only to brush past another coworker. That just so happened to be Bill Hader.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out, slowly clamping it shut; his eyes met yours in slight confusion before softening slightly.

“Woah, hey Y/N, everything okay? You were in kind of a hurry there.” he asks; you could barely meet his eyes as they searched yours for any sort of response.

“Oh,” you gulped, “Yeah I just have this crazy headache, um I was just looking for the first aid kit.” you say, shifting the balance on your one foot to the other.

His eyes widened before nodding quickly as if he was just reminded of something. The butterflies in your stomach crescendo as he quickly rested his palm upon your shoulder. You didn’t even know how to act, your body practically freezing at the contact.

“Actually to save you the trouble I have some painkillers upstairs in my dressing room. Not that I have like tons of drugs, but it’s no problem with me if that’ll help your headache.”

You quickly nod in response, trying to hide back a small smile before following him up several flights of stairs. God, you hated being so shy around Bill; it wasn’t like he was some mean old jerk; he was oh so genuine and thoughtful.

The two of you halt at a labeled Hader door; he looks back at you almost to check if you’re still there. Opening the door, he led you in, giving you a quick smirk, before crouching down and digging through the contents of his bag.

You had realized that this was the first time that you had ever been in a specific cast member’s dressing room. In particular, Hader’s room was neat and tidy, but you could see bits and pieces of his character sticking out. You couldn’t help but smile at it all, so caught up in the intricate details you didn’t even notice him get back up.

“Y/N, you good?” he asks; you focus your attention back on him quickly.

His hands outstretched, one holding a bottle of Advil and the other clamped tightly around a water bottle.

“Oh, um yeah. Thank you so much you have no idea how much I appreciate you for doing this.” you say rather quickly, but Hader doesn’t seem phased by your awkward nature.

You reach for the bottle and water, fingers gently brushing against his. The two of you looking down at the contact before parting ways.

Hader clears his throat, and you feel your stomach begin to tighten. Slipping two pills into your mouth, you unscrew the cap and down it carefully.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” he asks while placing the pill bottle back within his bag.

“A little I guess, I mean I tend to get nerves closer to the show. I’m sure at this point though, you’ve become an expert at staying calm.” you reply, his gaze falling towards the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m a wreck Y/N. This show is so stressful it eats at me every week, no matter what. I mean, clearly I’m doing something right and Lorne’s not gonna fire me, but, my anxiety gets so bad.” he says quickly. His eyes widened, and his posture became slightly tenser than before.

You couldn’t help but soften your gaze; you had no idea that he even went through this every week. Even now, with the buzzing tension in the air for tomorrow night, you couldn’t imagine what he was going through. Let alone the fact that he made the time to help you out.

“I wouldn’t have ever noticed,” he looks back up at you. “I mean, you’ve always just looked so...confident. I just can’t even begin to imagine what’s that like, every week constantly. I’m so sorry you have to go through that.” you quietly admit.

He shakes his head quickly, putting out a hand almost as if he was trying to stop you.

“No, no, it’s fine. Thank you though, it’s awfully sweet to hear that. Especially from someone like you.” Hader’s eyes filled with such warmth.

Was Hader blushing? Or were you losing it? Probably losing it.

“Oh about that headache, everything okay up in there?” he murmurs, stepping just a tad bit closer to you.

“It’s probably nothing, but I do appreciate the help.” you look back at the door, “We should probably get back? Right? Don’t wanna miss our dress.” you say quickly.

Hader nods within an instant, eyes widening at the realization of how long you two had been gone for. He led you to the door, giving you a quick smile before he ran out, murmuring something about a skit that had something to do with the guest host.

You giggle softly, heaving a contented sigh. It definitely was gonna be a long day, and you could’ve sworn that the temperature had just dropped.

Strange.

You couldn’t have stumbled into it until at least one in the morning, but sleep had been desperately calling your name. Oh, how you missed having a regular sleep schedule; it would make mornings less of a struggle.

Except this morning was different, or more so than you were used to. The headache that had arrived less than twenty-four hours earlier was now ten times worse. Your body ached, and you couldn’t decipher if the bed was too hot or too cold.

This was torture, and quite possibly the flu, not to mention, you had the show tonight, shit. You practically sprang upwards before feeling the instant aftermath of that decision settling in. It felt absolutely criminal to leave those sheets as you groaned and grimaced your way towards your kitchen cabinet. Eyes barely opened while you blindly searched for the thermometer you had kept.

One quick temperature check later, you were running a low-grade fever. Shit, shit, shit, shit. I mean, you couldn’t miss the show, right? It just didn’t seem plausible, or maybe it did?

You frantically wondered while your fingers grazed over the Google search bar whether going to work with a low-grade fever would be beneficial?

Every answer didn’t really seem to fit the unrealistic expectations that you had set for yourself. Still, one disgusting shot of Dayquil later, you were out the door.

The day went by in a haze, and the headache never really did seem to falter. It was almost like yesterday in a sense, but seeing Hader waltz into the room made you smile. He smiled back.

Of course, Jenny and Nasim knew something was up; they always did. It wasn’t like Lorne was gonna fire you for missing one show; it was the flu. Except, you had made it this far, how bad could it possibly go?

The lights were too bright, far too bright for you to even think properly, and your fever was sure burning up. Or maybe it wasn’t, you always had to ask others around for that sorta assistance. Except, this was the primary night of the week and you weren’t gonna ask a cast member to feel your forehead.

Imagine if Hader did, Y/N, please stop being a dork.

You found solace in a large water bottle, but it didn’t do much to help the way your body ached miserably. You looked like a mess, you felt like a mess, but this was the big leagues.

The last time you had checked, the previous performance of the musical guest had been underway. Which meant you had survived, but the exhaustion that had been ever-growing was begging for you to lay down.

The floor looked so good right now, yeah, just for a hot second, ugh why is everything burning up?

Slowly closing your eyes, you let yourself press up against the wall, except there wasn’t a wall right there, and down you went with a thud.

Bill had been anxious all night, of course for the show, but for you in particular. You usually always looked so put-together, but tonight something about you was just off. It was beginning to rub him the wrong way.

“Andy, do you notice anything strange about, um, Y/N over there?” he said, trying to muffle the concerned edge that rested within his voice.

“Y/N? Oh that new cast member you like?” Andy replied without much thought, earning a stern look from Hader.

“She’ll hear you, god man you sure can be loud. Whatever, she just looks kind of off man, I’m a little nervous for her.”

Andy’s gaze softened just a tad until something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

“I mean normally I would say that she looks fine and you’re just crushing, but I don’t think that is normal.” Bill’s gaze instantly locked onto the same thing, which was you fainting onto the floor.

His body going rigid before ultimately bolting upright, he wasn’t gonna catch you in time. Still, he definitely was gonna help if he could. Although he most definitely wasn’t the only one, other stray coworkers who happened to be backstage stood, jaws dropped.

There you went, tumbling to the ground, and Bill couldn’t help but feel his heart drop. Maybe that headache was worse than you had let up. He felt guilty for not speaking up sooner, but there was nothing he could do now.

They called a medic on the site, trying to keep it discreet as possible. It was a live show; he didn’t think it would be professional if broadcasted that shit.

He tried to fill in all of the details of how you had been acting the past few hours. It felt like he couldn’t do much to help, but he didn’t wanna leave your sight. It was odd; something about you really drew him in, leaving him reaching for more.

Plus, at this point, the last thing he had to do was go on stage while they rolled the credits. Bill was optimistic that this would count as a good reason.

He watched anxiously while the medic’s placed you upon a stretcher, his feet following without much thought. They wheeled you out to a waiting ambulance; he gulped at the thought of you having to be taken to the hospital.

Surprisingly they allowed him inside the ambulance; he was so convinced he’d be forced to wait until god knows how long. The vehicle provided seats off the side, allowing him to catch his breath and try not to worry about his current state.

That is until he saw you looking back groggily at him; now, this was definitely normal, as the medic had explained. He just didn’t see it coming; you blinked a few times, looking around at your surroundings.

“Hey, saw you took a little snooze there.” he teased, his gaze never leaving yours.

The ambulance rattled slightly, and you gasped a little before focusing your attention back onto him.

“Is this an ambulance? What happened?” you sat upright, feeling ten times worse, trying to piece together precisely why you and Bill Hader, of all people, were in the ambulance?

“Y/N, you fainted. The doctor’s said you’re burning up, they’re taking you to the ER.” he explained carefully, as you groaned in frustration.

He cocked his head slightly, clearly not expecting that response.

“About that, yeah I think I have the flu, I had a low-grade fever this morning.” you admitted sheepishly, not even daring to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry what?” he exclaimed, his eyes as wide as literal saucers. “Lemme get this straight, you went to work, with the flu?” you nodded, and he ran his hands over his face.

“Listen, I didn’t wanna disappoint Lorne. I mean it’s the night of all nights.” the words came out softer than you had intended; Hader practically melted.

“Oh, did you really think that Lorne’s gonna get pissed at you for having the flu? Oh sweetie, you know your health comes first right?” his words falling ever so sweetly off his lips.

You could barely look at the man, let alone control the multitude of butterflies that jolted in your already queasy stomach. Not to mention that he even thought to tag along, you nodded, not saying a word, focusing on his blue eyes like they were a safety net. Until you closed them, letting sleep overtake you.

You awoke once more to the sounds of machines beeping, people going from room to room, and an incessant tapping of one’s shoe.

This was most definitely the emergency room, your eyes scanning its surroundings until they landed on one person in particular. He looked exhausted, more so than you did, and you felt awful given the time it was at night. In fact, it was practically morning.

“You’re still here,” he sat upright, rubbing his eyes, “Thanks for sticking it out, Bill.” you tried to give him the most genuine smile you could possibly muster.

“Of course, I mean I overheard the doctor anyway. You’re cleared to go when you wake up, and definitely have to get some rest. I already spoke to Lorne.” you gaped, but he only stood up.

“Bill, what did he say?” you whisper.

“That you should listen to the doctor, and me.” you raised a brow. “Okay maybe he didn’t say me, but you get the point?” he exclaimed as he helped you get out of the bed.

The two of you walking towards the desk in which you had to sign out some papers, the pen unsteadily perched upon your fingers. Bill’s hand holding securely upon your back, in hopes you wouldn’t stumble. In reality, just being near him set your heart aflutter.

“Now I’m taking you home, but first I was thinking I could get you some soup for home. That sound good?” you could only look at the man in pure awe.

“You don’t have to do this Bill, really, I mean you’ve already done enough.” you gulped, only to see the man give you a smirk, his eyes glinting at you mischievously.

“Soup it is.” his hand clamping against yours, he led you out of the hospital and into the cold streets of New York City.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach the little soup shop he’d been talking about; it was cozy and apparently open twenty-four seven. Against his offer, you paid for two soups that looked the most delicious and cupped the cups while strolling back to your place.

“How do you think you got the flu?” he asked gently, looking at you with curiosity.

You had to try not to laugh; I mean, at this point, it was your fault, you subjected yourself to the tundra in your bedroom for the past few nights.

“Well, my heater has been broken for the past few nights. I assume that’s how I got it.” a smile aglow upon your face, giggling at Hader’s shocked expression.

“It better be fixed tonight when we get to your apartment complex. That’s ridiculous, Y/N.” you kept giggling, and soon he joined in with that gorgeous laugh of his.

You enjoyed your time with Hader even though internally you felt like shit; he made it so much more bearable. The air was light between the two of you, he made it easy to open up, and you wanted to know so much about him.

God, wait till you let Nasim and Jenny know about this night. They’re so gonna flip; you just knew it. Not to mention, the big looming ‘I told you so’ that was so coming your way.

“This is it.” he came to a halt, admiring the quaint little building that you happened to call home.

“You do know I’m not leaving until that heater is back on, right?” he ordered, but underneath his serious tone, you could see the concern.

“Oh come on Hader, let’s go see.”

The two of you taking the steps at a time, your body wanting to collapse, but you couldn’t let him know. He stood beside you while you inserted your keys into the lock, twisting it, before walking inside.

“What’s that rattling noise?” Hader wondered aloud.

A huge grin meeting your lips, you looked at him in pure delight, and he soon got the memo. His eyes widening before heaving a sigh of relief, only to halt.

“You call me if you need anything okay? Get some sleep, and um, stay warm. That’s an order, you hear me?” you could see his performance wavering as he tried desperately not to laugh.

“Yes, Sir.” you saluted weakly, but he only began to break instantly.

You really did love that laugh.

Thanks, Bill, for everything, really.” you said as he turned to head to the door, stepping up on your toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

His face instantly turned red before trying to compose himself as he walked away. You watched while he left the residence, giving you one last smile.

You awoke in a drowsy stupor that next morning to a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Want me to bring you some coffee and breakfast? - btw, this is Bill. Hope this l wasn’t too creepy. I ain’t no stalker.

Maybe: Bill: ps. How do you like your coffee?

Bill: ps.s yes or no?

You fell back on the bed with such a shit-eating grin, only to groan in response to the mistake you had just made.

You: Yes

#@broadwayandnetflix #bill hader imagine #bill hader x reader #bill hader x you #bill hader #fluff #angst #snl #Saturday Night Live #andy samberg #nasim pedrad #jenny slate #2021

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donteattheappleshook · 4 years ago

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Some Cupid Kills With Arrows

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A Captain Swan AU loosely based on Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing for the @captainswanmoviemarathon

Rated M

Read on Ao3 because tumblr eats my italics

Summary:

Emma and Killian hate each other. They have since the night they met. Or at least since the morning after. So Emma is dreading having to deal with them being Maid of Honour and Best Man at her brother's wedding. But, as their friends grow more and more annoyed at their constant bickering and a masquerade Stag and Doe turns everything on it's head, the entire bridal party come to a startling realisation: Emma and Killian might just be perfect for each other. With a little scheming and some well-timed chaos, maybe they can stop yelling at each other long enough to realise it too.

An enormous, huge, giant thank you to @ultraluckycatnd for her fantastic beta work and for helping me with this fic right up to the last second despite all my procrastinating. You are lovely and the best <3

Part One

Her head. Oh, god, her head. Why did her head hurt so much? Emma groaned, a pathetic whimper coming out as she tried to roll over on the couch. Her stomach gave an uneasy roll of its own at the movement, protesting against the liquor that was still swirling around inside.

Right. Liquor. Drinking. Drinking last night. Drinking with David. David. She was going to have to kill David. David, who insisted she show up early to this weekend extravaganza disguised as a wedding. The one who claimed that since he’d lost his best man when Mary Margaret stole his little sister to be her maid of honour that he was entitled to a brother-sister pre-bachelor party. It’s only fair, he’d insisted, flashing her those big puppy dog eyes and Emma had caved. She always caved when it came to her brother - or his fiance for that matter. She was weak when it came to those two. And now she had to murder one of them. Murder her only brother two days before his wedding for forcing what must have been an entire bottle of expensive scotch down her throat while they played poker and smoked cigars (and later sang along to the entire Mama Mia soundtrack - not that she’d ever admit that). Pity. She really liked David.

“Emma, Emma, bo-bemma, Banana-fana fo-femma, Fee-fi-mo-memma. Emma!” The loud singing announced her brother practically bouncing into the room and throwing himself on the couch near her feet. Emma groaned again and threw a pillow over her ears to try and block out the off-key hollering from the asshole next to her. She was liking him less and less with every passing second.

David laughed and ripped the pillow out of her grasp. “Rise and shine sister-mine!” he chanted. She was actually going to murder him. She reached out, a pathetic attempt to strike him but her hand just fell limply at her side.

“They will never find your body,” she told him. He laughed again and Emma cursed David and his super liver. She’d been his sister since she was ten; since Ruth found her on the street, burning a book of fairy tales to keep warm, and had taken her home for the night. That night had turned into forever and now, after eighteen years of living with the man, she’d never once seen him suffer a hangover.

“How are you so chipper?” she asked. Her voice sounded like she’d gargled sandpaper. David smiled, hauling her up by the shoulders until she was sitting like an almost-human.

He threw his arms out. “It’s a beautiful day?” he offered. “I’m one morning closer to marrying the woman of my dreams? Everyone who I love and who loves me is on their way to celebrate the happiest moment of my life?” Emma frowned at him. How dare he be so happy so early. David laughed at her misery again but patted her shoulder sympathetically before rising up and walking across the hall to the kitchen. Then, as if out of nowhere, a giant cup of coffee, a bottle of water, and two extra-strength Tylenol capsules appeared on the table in front of her. She wondered if she’d fallen asleep for a minute there.

Emma reached for the coffee like it was a lifeline - which it really was if she was being honest. She drank deeply and felt the effects almost immediately. She downed the pills and water next. She couldn’t quite manage a smile since this was still technically his fault, but she offered David a thankful look for taking care of her. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t have to murder him. Just some light maiming.

“You might want to jump in the shower,” he told her as she shuffled into the kitchen, he himself already looking and smelling fresh as a daisy. “You look a little rough,” he said with a grimace. Emma scowled at him and threw a nearby banana at his head which he easily dodged. She caught a glimpse of her reflection though, in the metallic gleam of the toaster and, well, he wasn’t wrong. “Just thought you’d want to freshen up and wake up before everyone gets here,” he suggested.

That’s right. It was Thursday. Everyone was arriving today. Oh, God. Emma had not played this right. Getting hammered on the night before the festivities even began. Today everyone would be arriving and settling into their respective rooms in the estate (read: mansion) owned by Mary Margaret’s parents - seriously the place was enormous. Mary Margaret had told her once how many bedrooms it had but the number had been so ridiculous and so superfluous that Emma had struck it from her memory. Nobody with an only child needed a house with rooms in the double digits. And this wasn’t even their home. No, they considered this place their ‘summer cottage’ where they would entertain friends on the private lake. It was convenient for a wedding though, she had to say. The whole bridal party was staying there for the entire weekend.

Tonight was the Stag and Doe. Leave it to David and Mary Margaret to find a way to avoid having to be apart even for their bachelor and bachelorette parties. It wasn’t like they’d ever been apart since they were fourteen years old - why start now? It was themed. Of course it was themed. Mary Margaret loved themes and David loved Mary Margaret so he let her have whatever damn theme she wanted, and since her parents had put their foot down against their daughter getting married on Halloween, they were having a costume stag and doe . She groaned. There were so many people coming. She knew. She’d had to organize it.

Tomorrow was the spa day for Mary Margaret and her bridesmaids and she assumed the boys would be treating David to some sort of manly pre-wedding tradition. All the out of town family would be arriving for the rehearsal dinner on Saturday. And then finally, the wedding was on Sunday. This weekend was a marathon, she mused, not a sprint.

Dozens of decorators, caterers, florists, and lots of other jobs Emma had never heard of were already running around the grounds - yes, the place had grounds - setting things up for what would certainly be the most lavish and extravagant (knowing Mary Margaret’s parents) yet classy and intimate (knowing Mary Margaret) wedding the world had ever seen. And all of them were under the direct orders of Regina Mills, David and Mary Margaret’s wedding planner and probably the most terrifying woman Emma had ever met.

Emma needed to boot and rally. She was the maid of honour and the groom’s sister. This weekend was not about her. Her job was to make sure everything ran smoothly. That the two most important people in her life had the most amazing few days of their lives and nothing and no-one was going to stand in her way.

Except maybe her speech, Emma thought as she turned on the shower and stepped under it. The hot water felt good and helped wake her up a little. The speech. The speech that she’d had nearly a year to write and still only had a blank page to show for it. How was she supposed to write a speech about love when she didn’t believe in it herself?

Well, that wasn’t completely true. She believed that some love was possible. But only for certain people. People like David and Mary Margaret who had found ‘The One’ when they were in the eighth grade and had never looked back. But they were the exception, not the rule.

Love had only ever left Emma hurt and alone. Love had only ever left her behind. First her birth parents who abandoned her on the side of the road as an infant. Then the string of foster parents that had cast her aside when they decided she wasn’t what they wanted. Then Ruth who had died far too young and left her and David behind. Then Neal, her high school boyfriend who had been her first everything before he disappeared to another city without so much as a ‘see ya’ text. And now David and Mary Margaret were getting married and starting a family of their own - one she wouldn’t be as much of a part of, no matter how much her brother insisted things wouldn’t change.

No, love wasn’t in the cards for Emma. She told people she didn’t have time for it but really she just didn’t have the heart for it. A heart could only take so many blows before it learned to rebuild itself out of something stronger. The taunting lilt of ‘always a bridesmaid, never a bride’ flitted through her head and she shook it away. She was fine like this. She was happy. She had a job she loved, a nice apartment, and good friends. She didn’t need love.

As she finished drying her hair and putting on enough makeup so that she didn’t look like an extra from The Walking Dead, Emma heard the commotion of people arriving. She could pick out Mary Margaret, Belle, Elsa and Ruby’s voices easily and she rushed out to greet her friends. They squealed when they saw her and her head only protested a little as they wrapped her up in a tangle of limbs that passed for a group hug.

Mary Margaret gave her a sympathetic look. “How was the pre-bachelor party?” she asked and Emma only grunted in response.

“You guys got here okay?” David asked, squeezing in to grab his bride-to-be and give her a kiss that would make you think she’d been away for months and not for a night.

“Save it for the honeymoon would you?” Ruby said in mock disgust and David looked at her with a wolfish smile.

“Don’t be jealous, Ruby! I’ve got one for you too!” David rushed to grab a protesting Ruby and planted a big, sloppy kiss on her cheek.

Emma smiled as she watched her friends laugh and joke and tease each other. She loved having them all here together. Soon the boys would get here too and for one, perfect weekend everything would be just the way it should be. All her friends in one place, celebrating together for the first time since her college graduation.

Well, almost perfect. All of them being here also meant he would be here. He and his snark and his ego and his womanizing ways. She supposed it was a small price to pay for the reunion. And she couldn’t deny that she really enjoyed the look on his face when she put him in his place.

“Oh! It’s Killian,” David said, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check a message. Speak of the devil , she thought. “He says they should be here in five,” David informed them, tucking his phone away.

“Great,” Emma said sarcastically and David shot her a begrudging look. She saw Ruby and Belle roll their eyes as Elsa and Mary Margaret started putting things away.

“Be nice,” David warned her.

“I’m always nice!” she insisted, offended. “ He’s the one who can’t seem to manage to be a decent human being for more than five minutes.”

“Come on, Emma,” Mary Margaret insisted from the kitchen. “You’re just as guilty. I don’t know why you egg him on.” She shook her head and Emma balked.

“I do not! I just think that the man needs reminding every now and then that he’s not God’s gift to women.” It was David who rolled his eyes this time. “Seriously, David, how you can stand to have him be your best man -” she started.

“Nope,” he cut her off. “You don’t get to complain about that. You chose Mary Margaret over me when we both asked you, so I had to find someone else. Besides, Killian is my best friend.” She balked. David rolled his eyes. “My best male friend,” he corrected. “So, again, be nice .” He gave her a stern look.

“But he’s just so… so…”

“So what?” Ruby asked, looking like she was really enjoying this.

Elsa shot her a look. “Don’t encourage her, Ruby.”

Ruby grinned. “Oh come on, it’s fun! It’s like a free show watching those two go at each other.”

“We do not go at each other!” Emma insisted again. “I just find it hard to say nothing like all of you do when he goes around acting so… cocky.”

“Cocky?” Ruby prodded and Belle elbowed her.

“You know what I mean. Every time he comes here, it’s all, oh, I’ve done this and don’t worry, I know how to do that ... Look at me, I’m so handsome and -”

“Handsome?” Mary Margaret interjected with a raised eyebrow.

“Shut it!” she cast her friend a warning glare. “I mean he thinks he’s the hottest thing since the Hemsworths. And it doesn’t help that he always drags along some bimbo whose sole purpose in life seems to be to fluff his ego and his…” she made a vague hand gesture, “you know.”

“Woah, Emma, tell us how you really feel, why don’t you?” Ruby laughed.

“He’s really not actually -” David started but she cut him off.

“Look, it’s nothing against the women okay - I’m sure on some level they’re really nice or whatever, or have some great heart or talent, but honestly, any woman who is willing to be Killian Jones’ date must have the IQ and backbone of a slug.”

“He’s not bringing a date,” David told her before she could go on.

Emma reeled back from the news. Killian Jones without a date? Impossible. The man couldn’t stand to be caught dead without something shiny on his arm.

“What? Has he finally slept with every woman in America and abroad?”

David rolled his eyes. “He’s bringing his brother. Something about him being on shore leave and wanting to spend time with him.”

“Oh my God,” Emma groaned, putting her head in her hands.

“See?” Belle piped in softly, misunderstanding her distress. “I’ve always said you judged him too quickly-”

“ There’s two of them !?” she demanded, hoping someone would tell her it was a joke. There was a collective groan and a small laugh from her friends. “Is one Jones in this world not enough?” she asked the room.

Before anyone had a chance to answer, a smooth, accented voice called from down the hall. “Hello? Is someone getting married here?”

“Robin!” Mary Margaret cheered, perking right up as though there was anywhere left for her to perk. “We’re in the kitchen!” she called.

“How the bloody hell do we find the kitchen?” came another accented voice, this one rougher around the edges. “This place is a maze.” Will! Emma rushed out with Mary Margaret to help their friends navigate the enormous house.

They found them looking confused in the front hall and Emma practically threw herself in Will’s arms as Mary Margaret greeted her guests.

Will had been in the same foster home as her when they were little. He was only a few years older, but he’d made a point to look out for her when most of the older kids had been inclined to pick on the smaller ones. She’d run away when he’d been transferred to another home for fighting and, after Ruth adopted her, she thought she’d never see him again. But with some help she’d managed to track him down in high school and was happy to find out he’d been placed with a distant relative the state had managed to locate in the area - a second cousin, Robin.

Robin was in college and on his own at the time, but took Will under his wing and had brought him up more like a little brother than a son. When David, Mary Margaret, and Emma had all ended up at the same college as Will and Robin, the friendship had been inevitable. Will introduced them to Ruby, and Mary Margaret became quick friends with Belle and Elsa when they all joined and felt like the odd ones out in the same sorority. However, Will had also unfortunately introduced them all to his classmate and drinking buddy, Killian Jones - something Emma would never forgive him for.

“Hey! You’re going to ruin my shirt!” he told her, pretending he wasn’t hugging her back.

“Your shirt’s already wrinkled,” she told him.

“It’s disheveled,” he corrected her. “There’s a difference.”

“Come now, Swan, I know it can be difficult to find men at your age, but there’s no need to throw yourself at poor Will like that.”

And there it was. Ninety seconds. He’d lasted a whole ninety seconds before saying something rude and asshole-ish and just… ugh. She hated him.

She opened her mouth to retort but Robin beat her to it. He turned on Killian, finger extended in warning. “You! No. None of that. We talked about this.”

Killian snapped his mouth shut and held his hands up in innocence but she could see him biting back a smile. Ugh, he even looked smug when he was being chastised. She looked him over, arming herself for the battle that was soon to come, scanning for anything she could throw back in his face when she needed it, something to bring him back down to size.

He was handsome - she had to give him that. He was probably one of the best looking men she’d ever met and she remembered thinking so the first time they were introduced. But when he opened his mouth... god. The sheer level of douche that was contained in one man. It made her shudder at the thought and angry at her past self for judging a book by its cover. Why her friends put up with him, she’d never understand.

The others had joined them in the hall by now and pleasantries were being exchanged. But as she hugged Robin, and Killian exchanged how-have-you-beens with David and Belle, she could feel his eyes on her. That was another thing that drove her crazy about him. He always seemed to be paying too much attention to her - probably sizing her up the way she did him.

But sometimes… sometimes she’d caught him watching her with an expression that wasn’t mirthful or arrogant - a small smile curling the corner of his mouth as if against his will, his brow softened from it’s usual expressiveness. It made her unsteady, made her feel unbalanced because she didn’t know what to make of it. What to make of the fact that she kind of liked it. That scared the shit out of her.

“Allow me to introduce my brother,” Killian was suddenly saying and she realised she may have been the one staring this time. “Everyone, this is Liam. Liam this is… everyone,” he smiled. Emma raised her brow at them both. Another Jones. This could not end well. “It’s Liam’s first time in the States,” he informed them as Liam shook hands with everyone.

“Well,” Liam interjected, “first time off a ship anyway.”

“Welcome,” David said, patting him on the shoulder.

“We’re so happy to have you here,” Mary Margaret cheered, hugging him.

“Nice to meet you,” Elsa smiled, offering her hand. Liam looked from Mary Margaret to her and for a second his eyes went a little wide - Elsa could have that effect - before he took her hand and held it a fraction too long. Elsa’s smile shifted as she looked at him and Liam finally released her hand.

“Thank you,” Liam smiled, looking down at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck. “I do hope I’m not intruding,” he offered. “Only it’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to see my brother and…” Holy shit. Was he blushing? Emma thought. How the hell was this guy related to Killian?

“Of course you’re not,” she found herself saying before she could stop herself. He must be adopted. That was the only explanation. “This family has always had a soft spot for picking up strays along the way,” she insisted. “Emma,” she told him her name.

“Ah, Emma,” he said, casting a look at Killian. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Emma cast her own look at the other brother, skeptical of what he could have possibly said about her. He maintained his look of innocence. Liam smiled and took her hand, shaking it. “A pleasure,” he said and she smiled back almost instinctively. Maybe her judgement had been off when she’d first met Killian but she liked to think she was a pretty good judge of character. And Liam, well Liam had an air about him. It was the opposite of Killian’s. Where Killian exuded cockiness and pretense, Liam was modest and sincere. Well what do you know, she thought, there is a Jones out there I could like.

Quickly, once all the greetings had been taken care of, Emma informed everyone of the schedule for the weekend. “What will the guys be doing tomorrow?” she asked, looking pointedly at the best man.

“We’re going camping,” Killian informed her. It almost pissed her off how perfect a choice that was. David loved camping. “Lots of good old fashioned male bonding,” Killian joked. “I’ve packed enough cigars and whiskey to take down a horse. Let’s see if we can get Dave hungover for the first time in his life shall we?” Emma braced himself for whatever he was going to say next. “Besides, it will give us a chance to give him some tips for the wedding night.” He winked at the groom.

“Well, that’s our cue, I think,” David said, rolling his eyes at his friend. “Let’s go find everyone a room and have a drink and maybe some pizza before people get here.”

As the gang headed into the kitchen, Killian went about hanging up his jacket and setting his keys down before picking up his bag, calling after them. “Don’t worry Dave! I can tell you what to do so you don’t bleed your first time!” Emma lingered behind. She couldn’t help herself.

“You know you talk a lot for a guy nobody listens to.”

And there it was, that cocky, amused smile he seemed to save only for her. Emma ignored the little flip her stomach did - convincing herself that it was just leftover hangover symptoms.

“ Swan ,” he said almost affectionately, but there was a mocking there too. “We didn’t have a chance to say hello! You look…” He paused, taking in what she was sure were dark circles and pale skin. “Alive... mostly. How absolutely wonderful for someone, I’m sure.”

She didn’t even let it phase her. If he was already relying on physical insults she’d already won. “I noticed you didn’t bring a date.” He eyed her skeptically. “Did you forget to pay your tab at Escorts ‘R Us this month?”

He smiled. “I don’t see your date, Swan. Or is he already making a hasty escape out the bathroom window? Don’t take it too hard. Not everyone can have as many suitors as some.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ha,” she snorted. “Yeah I know all about your many suitors. Tell me something,” she started, inching closer and speaking low like it was a secret. He leaned in almost like a reflex. “Does your right hand know that you sometimes cheat on it with your left?”

He laughed outright at that. “Ah, love, it might shock you to discover that some of us are capable of finding willing partners for the world’s oldest dance. But I can understand how some might be led to believe one’s hand is one’s only option.”

She tilted her head. “Yeah, I’m gonna bet that partners like you are part of the reason so many dancers prefer their own hand. Might have something to do with why you only ever have a date for one night...”

It was his turn to inch forward. He stepped closer until there was barely any breathing room between them but Emma held her ground, tilting her chin up at him and meeting his gaze. “Oh, believe me. My prowess leaves nothing to be desired,” he promised. His voice had dropped, sounding gravelly and making his accent more pronounced. Emma steeled herself, ignoring the way the heat of him and the smell of his cologne warmed her skin. He always smelled so damn good, like leather and the sea. It was destabilizing and she nearly stumbled on her next words.

“And yet, you brought your brother as your date. Something tells me he doesn't put out.” He smiled at her and it was that smile she’d seen before - the unsettling one. The one that messed with this thing they had going - this mutual distaste. She needed to wipe it off his face. “Maybe I should find out,” she added with a suggestive brow and watched with pride and a small flicker of disappointment as the smile fell from his face.

“I’ll not have you defiling my brother, Swan!” He said it in jest, but he didn’t seem quite committed to his mock offence. She worried she may have pushed too far.

“Emma! Killian! Let’s go!” Belle shouted from the kitchen. “We’re ordering pizza and Ruby is getting hangry. Killian I swear she’ll put mushrooms on yours if you don’t come tell us what you want!”

They broke apart and it was only a second before Killian’s regular cock-sure bravado was back in place.

“Shall we?” he asked, indicating that she should lead the way down the hall.

Only four days. She told herself. She could handle four days.

-/-

“So tell me, Mary Margaret,” Killian asked later as they were all eating their pizza. Emma had nearly let slide his ‘ really Swan, anchovies?’ comment, but then suggested he try the one with garlic since it was unlikely he would find anyone desperate enough to kiss him tonight. He refused, insisting that experience had taught him to be optimistic. She’d muttered something about women with no standards before Robin had told them to knock it off and eat their bloody pizza. “What exactly does this party tonight entail? All Belle said was that I had to dress up? It’s lucky I still had my Halloween costume from last year.”

“You mean your halloween costume from every year ,” Emma snarked. Killian smirked.

“Why mess with perfection?” he asked. “Besides, Captain Hook is always a killer with the ladies.”

“No!” Mary Margaret covered her ears. “We’re not supposed to know what you’re dressing up as!”

“Way to ruin the surprise,” Emma said harshly and regretted it when she saw genuine surprise and regret cross his face. She ignored it, turning to the groomsmen who weren’t aware of the plans for the night. “We’re having a masquerade ball. Belle and Elsa spent weeks making everyone gorgeous masks to choose from and wear with their costumes. Nobody can know who anyone is, though. We’re doing this the right way. Nobody reveals their identities until midnight. That’s how long Mary Margaret and David have to find each other once we separate them at the beginning of the party.”

“I’m sorry, are you trying to tell me that these two haven’t told each other exactly what they’re dressing up as? I don’t buy it,” Robin shook his head.

“We took care of that,” Emma laughed. “Well, Belle did. Belle picked out their costumes and has kept them a secret. Thanks again,” she said, turning to the woman in question.

“My pleasure,” she said. “Actually, Elsa helped a lot. Her taste is impeccable.”

“Well, you couldn't have left Swan to do it. They’d both be wearing jeans and leather jackets.”

Emma shot him a look but Elsa was quicker. “How exactly is that different from your everyday look? Worried she might have picked out the wrong shade of black?” she challenged, eyeing up his black jeans, black boots, and black shirt. His black leather jacket still hung in the closet in the front hall. Liam hid his guffaw behind his hand and Elsa smirked proudly.

“Don’t worry,” Emma jumped in. “Killian doesn’t need a costume. He’s always dressed like a giant tool.” It wasn’t her best insult but hey, they couldn’t all be winners.

Killian smirked, stepping closer to her, invading her space a little, His voice was low and suggestive. “I’d be happy to show you my giant tool, Swan,” he offered and Emma pulled a face.

“ Oh my god, just bone already ,” she heard Ruby mutter under her breath.

“What?” they both snapped but Ruby pretended like she hadn’t heard them.

Liam laughed again and Elsa turned to him with wide, almost sorrowful eyes. “Oh, Liam,” she said and he turned to her. Emma wasn’t sure if she imagined the slight redness on his cheeks. It was very like his brother’s. “I’m so sorry. Killian didn’t tell us you were coming,” she glared at her friend. “Do you have a costume? I’m sure we could put something together if you -”

“Don’t trouble yourself, love,” he answered. “Killian forgot to mention a costume when he invited me.” He shot his brother a look. “But thankfully, my brother still had his costume from the time he played Westley in that Princess Bride stage play in college.”

Emma lit up just as Killian grimaced. “I’m sorry, the time he what ?” she asked, beaming. Oh, this was too good. She definitely needed to hear that story. Liam smirked, looking at his brother’s embarrassment and Emma once again marveled at how much she liked the older Jones brother.

“Hey! No more costume talk!” Ruby jumped in. “We can’t have David and Mary Margaret knowing who anyone is! It will spoil the game!”

“Sorry,” Liam said, looking a little abashed. “Mum’s the word,” He cast Emma a glance out of the corner of his eye, leaning in to stage-whisper. “He had the ponytail and everything,” he told her conspiratorially. It took everything she had not to burst out laughing, instead settling for tossing a shit-eating grin and a ‘ just wait ” look at Killian. Killian looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Liam, you might be becoming one of my favorite people.”

He grinned.

“We should start getting ready,” Belle chimed in. “People will be arriving soon.”

“Oh I can’t wait to see the costumes!” Mary Margaret squealed and then turned suddenly. “Emma!” Emma jumped. “Will you let me do your makeup? Please? You never let me and it’s my wedding!”

Emma sighed, giving in to her friend’s decades-long attempt at dolling her up. The last time she'd caved had been prom night. “Fine.”

“Oh thank you! You’re going to look gorgeous!” Mary Margaret squealed before quickly catching herself. “Not that you don’t always look gorgeous!”

Emma saw Killian open his mouth but didn’t give him the chance. “Can it, Ponytail.”

He pressed his mouth into a tight line but the corners turned up despite how obviously he was trying to fight it.

“Wait, first let me show you your costume,” Belle said to Mary Margaret. Emma didn’t know which one of them was more excited at the prospect.

“Okay! Emma, meet me in my room okay?” The bride-to-be waited for Emma to nod in agreement (defeat) before rushing off with Belle, Elsa and Ruby following quickly behind. Emma stood shaking her head as they ran away giggling. David corralled all the boys, rushing them off in the other direction to do… whatever guys did to get ready for a party. She watched them all disappearing down the hall, whooping and cheering. She thought she might have heard Will shout something about David finding his True Love and she shook her head.

“This is why I’m never going to fall in love,” she groaned to nobody in particular, shaking her head. “It makes people act like idiots.”

“At least we can agree on one thing,” she heard a voice answer. Her eyes snapped up to see Killian, still hovering in the doorway. He smiled slightly at her. “Not in the cards for me either, I think.” There was something vulnerable about the way he said it, like there was some secret that she was missing. Just for a second, she caught herself wondering what it was, feeling a slight tug in her chest at the defeated way he spoke. A connection? She smothered that feeling right away.

“Lucky for the women of the world,” Emma answered.

He only gave her another one of those small, half smiles before following the others down the hall.

“Emma! Get your ass up here!” Ruby shouted from one of the bedrooms. Emma left the kitchen, doing her best to ignore the way getting the last word with Killian hadn’t left her feeling as smug as it usually did.

-/-

“Ah, there’s my best man,” David said as Killian walked into the room. “Leaving me in my hour of need already?”

“Please, I was gone for less than a minute. Couldn’t you guys keep yourselves entertained for that long without me?” he asked mirthfully.

“What were you doing back there?” Will asked, sounding like he knew the answer already.

“Speaking with the lovely Emma, I’ll wager,” Robin answered with a smirk.

“What else is new?” David asked, rolling his eyes before Killian could defend himself.

“Why is this your hour of need, exactly?” Killian asked, choosing not to contradict them. He had, in fact, been talking to her, so he didn’t really have a leg to stand on.

“Because Robin has a better costume than me!”

It was Killian’s turn to roll his eyes. “His name is literally Robin. Who else could reasonably dress up as Robin Hood?”

“But that’s just it! She’ll never suspect it!” David insisted. The men all paused, exchanging looks. David held up the costume that had been laid out for him on the bed. “Belle dressed me as Prince Charming. I love her to death, but she’s just as much of a romantic as Mary Margaret. It’s too obvious, she’ll find me in a second.”

“He has a point, you know,” Robin agreed.

“Hey, Belle put a lot of work into picking your costumes,” Will reminded them. He cleared his throat when Robin shot him a wry look. “And the others. They all put in a lot of work…”

Killian grinned. “And wouldn’t it just be great to see their reactions when they realise we’ve switched it on them?” Even David smiled, excited at the harmless though somewhat juvenile prank. Will looked nervous though.

“Listen, I just don’t want to be the reason we ensue Elsa’s wrath,” he defended. Liam glanced at Will, and Killian noticed a slightly downtrodden look on his brother’s face. He frowned.

“It’s my Stag and Doe,” the groom insisted. “I say we do it.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. He slapped a hand on David’s shoulder. “Let’s see if true love really does conquer all, shall we?”

Robin considered this for a moment, arms crossed as he stroked his beard. “All right, but if we do this, we should really commit. Everybody confess what your costume is so we can pick the most un-David-like one.”

Will still didn’t look convinced. “What’s with him?” David asked.

Robin smirked. “He’s just worried that Belle will be mad at him. Or is it that you picked your costume with her in mind and don’t want to give it up?”

“Really, Will? You’re still hung up on her?” David joked. “Why don’t you just tell her already?” Liam perked up then, looking back at Will after having been staring at the floor for a moment.

“Oh, I was under the impression that Elsa was your girlfriend,” he said casually. Four pairs of suspicious eyes turned to him. “You just seemed so set on not upsetting her is all…” Killian didn’t buy it.

Will looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Bloody hell, Elsa? No. She just scares the hell out of me and she should scare you too,” he warned. “That is not a woman you want to cross.”

“Indeed,” Robin agreed, coming up behind his friend and wrapping an arm around him. “Will only has eyes for Belle.” Will elbowed him. “Elsa is, as of present, unattached.”

“Huh,” was all Liam said, suddenly far too uninterested in the conversation. It took Killian a moment, frowning at his brother, trying to read what he was hiding before it hit him.

“ Oh, no, ” he groaned and everyone’s eyes snapped up to him.

“What?” Liam demanded, playing innocent.

“No, no.”

“ What?”

“My own brother!” Killian cried. “Abandoned. Betrayed by my own kin!”

Liam rolled his eyes but his tone was way too defensive. “Shut up, Killian.”

Robin snorted but hid it quickly behind his hand as Killian shot him a death glare.

“Am I missing something?” David asked, looking between the brothers.

“What you’re missing, Dave, is that my brother, sworn bachelor, the last of the sworn bachelors, the last of the Jones’ to carry on the good name and reputation of man about town and sea, has fallen in love.” He cast his eyes to Liam again. “Traitor!”

“Oh, come on, Killian. Stop being dramatic. I’m not in love.”

“Not yet!” he cried. “But I’ve seen that look before - it’s in the eyes. I’ve seen it in my fallen comrades. First David, then Will. Robin was lost to me before I even met him, married at nineteen like some lovesick fool.”

“Careful now, that’s my wife you’re talking about,” Robin warned. Marian and Roland were joining the group the day of the wedding, thinking that subjecting a six year old to three days of wedding festivities seemed unreasonable.

“And now my own brother! Seduced! Stolen away by the Ice Queen. We stood together! Now I stand alone.”

“That’s a bit much don’t you think?” Graham said.

“You like Elsa?” David asked Liam and Killian rounded on him.

“ That’s what you got from what I just said?”

“I mostly tune you out if I’m honest,” David said casually before focusing on Liam again. “If you like Elsa you have the perfect costume. The Princess Bride is her favorite movie. She and Emma are obsessed with it - it’s a little annoying actually. If you wear that, you’ll definitely get her attention.”

“Oh, well…” was all Liam said, clearly flustered to Killian’s disgust. He did not like how pleased his brother looked at the idea.

“Killian,” David said then. “Let’s see your costume. Mary Margaret won’t come near me if she thinks I’m you. She’s seen your pirate costume a million times now.”

“I think the hair might give it away, Dave,” Killian laughed, gesturing to his own dark hair that contrasted so drastically with the groom’s fair head. “Besides,” he smirked. “You don’t have the cleavage for it.”

David rolled his eyes. “Oh, far be it from me to deny you the opportunity to wear a shirt unbuttoned to your waist.”

“What exactly is your obsession with this Captain Hook costume, Brother?” Liam piped up. “I’ve never seen it but it would seem it’s rather famous. Why the fixation on Peter Pan?”

“It’s because he’s the boy who never grew up,” Will offered, receiving a punch in the arm from the person in question. “At least that’s what Ruby dubbed him for all his womanizing.”

Killian rolled his eyes, familiar with the nickname. He never bothered to mention that he liked the character of Hook, not Pan. Not the devil child but the melancholic man who clung to the last bit of hope left in him.

“I’m hardly a boy,” Killian glared. “And I don’t womanize. Every woman I take out knows exactly my intentions. I’m not some child playing games.”

“Then you won’t mind giving up your costume,” Robin insisted.

“I told you it would be too obvious,” he reminded them again.

“So am I understanding correctly?” Will asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re just all throwing the girl’s rules out the window?” Will asked with a bit of annoyance in his tone. If Killian himself weren’t so annoyed at Will’s crush on Belle, he’d have found it funny.

“Yes,” David said simply. “Liam, you keep yours so that you have an ice breaker with Elsa and Killian, well, I guess you can keep yours for your vanity.” Killian rolled his eyes. “The rest of you,” he demanded. “Let me see what you have.”

David, Will and Robin spent far too long debating who should wear which of the three costumes, even going so far as to look through the clothes they had brought to see if they could make a new, fourth costume, before finally making a decision nearly an hour later. As they headed to their respective rooms to change, Killian noticed his brother lingering. He sighed again.

“So, Elsa then?”

“I mean, she seems nice,” Liam answered but Killian could see him trying to fight the little smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Nice? Elsa? I mean sure she can be friendly sometimes, but I’ve always found her to be a bit cold, distant.”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you, brother.”

“Nonsense,” he smiled. “All women like me.” But then looked at Liam again. “You really like her?”

“I don’t - she seems interesting. I’d like to get to know her better, yes.”

“Unbelievable. You’re in the country for ten minutes and you’ve fallen for the first blonde you’ve seen.” He shook his head, utterly, totally disappointed by his brother.

“I wouldn’t be the first Jones now would I?” Liam muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Unbelievable,” Killian sighed.

“You keep saying that,” Liam pointed out.

“Well it is! A few years ago we were all free, unattached. We could head to the bar, meet some nice girls, have some fun. But now, I swear David has to ask permission before he goes out with us. And Will won’t go anywhere unless we agree to invite Belle along so he can stare at her like a git and not say a word. When did all of the bachelors die off? When did all my friends drop off the face of the earth. I’ll tell you when. When they decided to fall in love!”

“Don’t you think you’re getting a little old for this, Killian?”

“How dare you?” Killian snapped. “I’m thirty-two. I’m hardly at the age of needing to settle down.”

“Then pray tell what age is appropriate to settle down?”

“I’ll let you know if I ever hit it,” Killian smirked. Liam rolled his eyes.

“So what, you’re going to keep man whoring around? Don’t you want to be with someone? Have something real? Fall in love?”

“Love is overrated. I plan to die a bachelor.”

“You mean alone,” Liam corrected him. “I don’t believe you for a second, brother,” he said, but he shook his head in a way that told Killian he didn’t plan on arguing any further. Let Liam disbelieve him. He didn’t need his brother’s approval. He’d tried love once and it had brought him nothing but wasted years and endless torment.

Killian had learned young that love only ended in pain and heartbreak. He’d seen it with his mother, who’d been unhappy her entire married life only to pass away young and leave behind a father who was so heartbroken of the loss of the woman he mistreated that he abandoned his two sons.

He’d sworn off love at six years old. He’d only faltered once since, despite his best efforts to resist it. And that time had only served to reinforce his belief that he was right. Love was a waste of time. He didn’t need it. And he didn’t want it. Let the Davids and the Robins and the Wills - and apparently the Liams - of the world have love. He would stick to one night. One night was clear. One night left no expectations, set no precedent. One night was safe.

“So then,” Liam started, snapping Killian from his admittedly rather gloomy train of thought. “What about Emma?” he trailed off.

Killian’s head snapped up as though he’d been struck. “What about Emma?” he asked wearily.

“She seems nice, is all. Funny, smart, rather beautiful too…”

Killian felt his heart jump into his throat. Emma? Liam and Emma? Was his brother really suggesting that he was interested in Emma romantically? Or even just physically? The idea of his brother and Emma together stirred a feeling inside of him that he didn’t like. The same feeling that had come over him when Emma had taunted him with the idea of her and Liam earlier. What was it - anger? Disgust? Jealousy ? No. He wasn’t jealous. Emma could sleep with whoever she wanted. So could his brother for that matter. So could he. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“I’ll admit that she’s rather pleasant to look at but believe me, the woman is a harpie. She’s got a wicked tongue on her. She’s cold and defensive and she has walls a mile high.”

“She seemed rather pleasant to me. Witty too.”

“Oh, aye, she’s got wit, that’s for sure.” He caught the corner of his mouth ticking up and forced it down. “She’s quick and rather amusing when she’s not yelling at me.”

“You don’t seem to mind her yelling at you.”

He laughed. “She’s quick to anger, that’s all,” Killian shrugged, trying to go for blase but knowing he was failing. “Makes her rather fun to argue with. She has a way of seeing people… she’s quite perspective really.” She was. She could and would call him on any and all of his bullshit. He was always surprised to realise how much he enjoyed that. But she had him pegged wrong. Always had. And he couldn’t forgive her that.

“So you don’t like her then?” Liam continued, frowning. “I suppose I can understand that. I heard you talking in the hall. She does seem like she can be rather…”

“Rather what?” Killian said quickly, shocked by how vehemently his body reacted to the idea of someone speaking poorly of his rival - someone besides him anyway.

Liam’s eyes went wide and then settled into a knowing expression Killian didn’t like. “Nothing,” he said, but the word held weight.

“She’s just… she’s had a hard life,” Killian found himself saying. Shut up, why are you defending her? he demanded of himself, but he couldn’t stop the words that came out. “She’s been through a lot - like we have. And she’s done some rather impressive things with her life despite it. She’s a detective you know?”

“Yes, I know. You’ve told me. You’ve told me a lot about her actually…”

“Right,” Killian caught himself. Clearing his throat. He didn’t like what his brother was implying. Killian didn’t want Emma. Of course he didn’t. They fought and they bantered and they teased but that was all their relationship was. It was all it ever had been - well, almost. There was that first night... But regardless, he didn’t want his brother to get tangled up with her either. For his brother’s sake only. Emma pushed everyone away. He wouldn’t want to risk his brother being hurt like... “Well, yes, she is cold and distant and incredibly frustrating and - I don’t know if you want to go there. Not worth the effort I think and -”

“ Killian.”

“What?” he snapped.

“I’m not interested in Emma,” he explained carefully and Killian was angry at the relief he felt. “But I think maybe…” Killian steeled his jaw, fists clenching and shoulders straightening as his brother eyed him with… pity? sympathy? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. Something in his expression must have warned Liam off. “Nevermind,” he finished.

Killian let out a heavy breath, thankful that this conversation was over. “Shall we go get ready?” he asked. “I think people will be arriving soon. I’ve seen Mulan’s car pull up. And if she’s here, the party is bound to get underway quickly.”

“Aye,” Liam said, swinging his arm around Killian’s shoulders. “Let’s.”

-/-

“Emma!” she heard Elsa call for her from the room next door. She banged on the adjoining wall to let her friend know it was fine to come in. A second later Elsa was making her way into the room, awkwardly looking behind herself as she struggled with her costume.

“Could you give me a hand with these laces?” she asked, referring to the corset like back of her Swan Lake ballerina costume. It was pretty, graceful, and understated like her friend.

“Sure,” Emma said, gesturing for her to turn around so that she could help her with the intricate lacing. When she was done, Elsa brushed her hands down the front of her dress, making sure it looked right.

“Thanks.” She looked Emma up and down and frowned. “You’re not ready yet? The party’s already started. I’m running late because of these damn laces. What’s your excuse?” she asked, taking in Emma’s jeans and leather jacket.

“Oh, I’m ready,” she said, grabbing a hat and a pair of sunglasses and putting them on.

Elsa frowned. “What the hell are you supposed to be?”

Emma clipped her badge onto her hip. “An undercover cop.”

Elsa stared at her for a long moment before crossing her arms in front of her chest and frowning. “Are you fucking kidding me, Emma?”

“What?” she asked defensively. It was either this or a sheet with holes cut in it,” she said. “You know, to be a ghost,” she clarified when Elsa didn’t react.

Elsa let her head fall into her hand, rubbing at her forehead in frustration. “Jesus Christ, Emma. It’s a costume party. You are a cop. You can’t just go as yourself. This is a pathetic excuse for a costume and you know it.”

“You were actually a ballerina!” Emma insisted, gesturing at the dress she knew her friend had worn in a real performance in college. Elsa glared at her. She was annoyed at her friend, but probably more at the fact that she knew she was right. She’d really hoped they’d have let her get away with it. She was never one for dressing up.

“That’s different,” Elsa explained slowly, like she was talking to an idiot. “I wouldn’t go around wearing this on the street. You haven’t even changed out of what you were wearing when we got here.”

“So you think I should go with the ghost?” she asked, smirking a little. Elsa shook her head in exasperation.

“Emma, this party is for Mary Margaret. You know what she wants it to be. She wants magic and beautiful dresses and men dressed as princes and heroes. This is her fairytale wedding and you cannot wear jeans to a masquerade ball.”

Emma sighed. “Okay, but it’s a little late now. I don’t have another costume and nothing I brought is fancy enough to qualify as a gown.”

Elsa thought for a second, looking her over as she tapped her fingers against her crossed arms. “Hang on a second,” she said finally. “I might have something.” And with that, she disappeared out of the room, trailing crinoline and feathers behind her.

Emma pulled the hat and sunglasses off, groaning as she pulled her hair out of it’s messy ponytail. She should have seen this coming. She should have known her friends wouldn’t stand for her cop out of a costume - they fought her every Halloween and this was her best friend’s wedding. She just… she didn’t have it in her. The whole fairy tales and True Love and princes and princesses - it just all felt so… fake, unrealistic. She didn’t want to get dolled up and attract the attention of some guy who would make her promises and then break them as soon as the lights came on and the masks came off. She remembered the last time she’d let some guy she met at a party convince her she meant something - she’d learned that lesson quickly. Never fall for a pretty face - especially one with an accent and a penchant for seducing blondes.

“Here,” Elsa announced, returning to the room and shaking Emma out of her thoughts. She was holding a dress on a hanger, the skirt of it draped over her arm. It was beautiful. Ice blue and floor length with intricate beading. The neckline was modest but she could see the plunging back. It was Elsa embodied: elegant, sophisticated, and just a little ethereal.

“This is gorgeous,” Emma said, reaching out to tough some of the delicate stitching. “Where did you get it?”

“I wore it to Mary Margaret’s black-tie New Years Eve party last year, remember?” Emma shook her head. “Oh right, you weren’t there - you had that case. Anyway, I forgot it here in the morning and haven’t been back to pick it up since. I feel like it would do nicely for tonight.”

“You’re going to dress me up as a princess aren’t you,” Emma squeezed her eyes shut. Elsa beamed.

“You bet your ass I am!” she laughed. “If your brother’s going as Prince Charming, it’s only fair you get a royal makeover too. Come on. If I know Mary Margaret’s mom, I’m sure we can dig up a tiara or something in one of these rooms. Shall we?” Emma bit her lip. She knew she wasn’t going to win this one. “Hey, you’re doing this for Mary Margaret,” Elsa reminded her and then gestured pointedly to her own costume. “We all are.”

Emma sighed. “Okay. But you better have a damn good mask. If David sees me in this, he’ll never let me live it down.” Nor would Killian, she thought, cringing at the teasing that would surely ensue from him seeing her in something other than jeans. Elsa laughed and dragged Emma along in search of a crown.

-/-

“Liam!” Killian called, poking his head into his brother’s room and looking around for his absentee sibling. “Are you nearly done putting your face on? The party’s in full swing and you’re missing it!”

“There’s a slight problem,” Liam’s voice carried across the room from the bathroom as he walked out and Killian had to put his fist to his mouth to stop from laughing at the sight of his brother. It didn’t work. “Shut up,” Liam warned as Killian burst out in a fit of laughter. Liam stood in front of him, looking not at all impressed in the tightest shirt and pants Killian had ever seen. The sleeves ended several inches above his wrists and the pants several inches above his ankles. Liam threw the mask he was holding at his brother.

“I’m sorry,” Killian apologized, trying to contain himself. “I don’t think it fits,” he pointed out the obvious.

“Clearly it doesn’t fit, little brother ,” Liam said with a glare. Killian returned it.

“Younger brother,” he corrected.

“No, I believe in this case little brother is correct,” he smirked, gesturing to himself again. He turned around to head back to the bathroom and Killian, who had been glaring, burst out laughing again.

“Oh, I do hope Elsa’s an ass woman,” he said. “You’ll certainly win her over with pants that tight.”

“Alright, enough. Give me your costume.”

“My costume,” Killian demanded, stepping back and placing a protective hand out in front of him. “Why?”

“Because this is your fault. You’re the one who gave me your old costume without accounting for the fact that I am the much taller and broader shouldered of the Jones brothers.”

“Or the one who needs to cut back on sweets,” Killian shot back. “Besides,” he challenged, “how will this costume fit you if you’re so big and strong you can’t fit into that one?”

“Give me the jacket and the jewellery,” Liam said. “I’ll find a pair of black pants and a buttoned shirt and it will have to do.” He eyed his brother who was still clinging protectively to his costume. “And the hook,” he demanded.

“What will I wear then, if you’re going to take the very shirt off my back?”

“This,” Liam answered, gesturing to himself. “Should work. You’ve barely filled out since college,” he smirked.

“I’ve never had any complaints.” Liam gave him a leveling look and Killian rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he ceded, shedding the beloved jacket from his shoulders and tossing it to his brother. Liam caught it in one hand and headed to the bathroom to change, pausing at his suitcase to grab a pair of pants and a shirt.

“You know you’re blowing your chances at winning over Elsa though, don’t you? No dashing childhood crush to seduce her with.”

Liam cracked the bathroom door open and poked his head out, tossing the costume at him. “I’m not trying to seduce anyone,” he frowned. “Besides,” he smirked. “Even if I was, I wouldn’t need a bloody costume to do so. Not all of us need glamour and trickery to convince a woman to speak to us.”

“Oi!” Killian shouted, offended. “I don’t need any tricks to get a woman to speak to me!”

“Is that why you pick a fight with Emma everytime you see her?” Liam’s voice was muffled through the door.

“I have no idea what you’re insinuating,” Killian snapped. He was getting very tired of his brother speaking cryptically about he and Emma’s relationship. As though they were anything but friendly rivals. So what if he looked forward to seeing her at these get-togethers? So what if he was disappointed when she was kept away by work. He simply looked forward to having someone to spar with, someone who kept up with him and could challenge him. He loved a challenge, and if Emma Swan was anything, she was a challenge.

“Of course not,” Liam patronized as he emerged in Killian’s jacket. He held out his hand and Killian passed him the pirate necklaces and the clip on earring that completed the look. “Better get dressed, party’s started,” Liam told him then looked him over carefully. “Isn’t ‘The Princess Bride’ Emma’s favorite movie as well?”

Killian looked down at the costume he held in his hands, ignoring the fact that it was, in fact, her favorite and that she might, just maybe, forget their rivalry for a second if they had some common ground. It would be interesting to speak to her without their prickly game standing between them for a moment. The last time they’d done that had been… well, a very long time ago indeed. “What of it?” he asked his brother and hoped Liam wouldn’t push the subject.

“Nothing,” Liam said and when Killian met his eye he saw the same look he’d seen earlier. It unsettled him. But then his brother smirked and the moment was broken. “Just too bad you don’t still have the ponytail.”

Killian scowled, whipping the hook off his arm and shoving it a little too forcefully against his brother’s chest, turning to storm out of the room to the sound of Liam’s laughter following along behind him. “It was one semester!” he shouted but Liam only laughed harder.

-/-

Emma poured herself another drink from the bar, readjusting her mask which unfortunately, though beautiful, had the annoying habit of sliding down her nose. One corner was still damp from when it had dipped into her drink. She didn’t know how people did this back in the day. Wearing masks was fun, the mystery of it all and the anonymity was almost thrilling, but it was highly inconvenient. She set the drink down to tighten the silk string that kept it on for the tenth time that night.

The party was in full swing. The house was packed, every room full of people squished together dancing, laughing, drinking, and shouting at each other to be heard over the music. Emma looked around proudly. She had to say, she’d done a pretty good job for someone who hated fairy tales. She loved parties, though, so she chalked it up to that. Well, that and Elsa and Belle’s beautiful masks and Ruby’s awesome taste in music… and David had helped with the decorations. It had definitely been a group effort.

Emma scanned the crowds, trying to spot any of her friends and realized that she couldn’t. She almost laughed. The masquerade thing really did work. She knew what Elsa and Liam - and likely Killian - were dressed as, but she hadn’t seen anyone else from the bridal party’s costumes and there were so many friends and family here to celebrate that she wasn’t even sure she knew all the guests, let alone that she’d be able to identify them with half their faces covered.

She made her way across the kitchen which was being used as a bar and into what could only be described as a great hall where people were dancing, hoping to spot Elsa among the throngs of people. She perked up when she caught sight of white feathers and excellent posture. Squeezing between Cinderella and Gaston who looked about two seconds away from making out - weird - she crossed the room toward her friend, only to stop dead when she caught sight of a silver hook and a generous display of chest hair.

Ugh. Killian. Elsa was talking to Killian. His face was half covered in a silky black mask but she’d seen that stupid pirate costume enough times to know it had to be him. She rolled her eyes as he leaned down to say something in Elsa’s ear and her friend threw her head back laughing, her hand coming up to rest on his bare chest as she leaned in closer.

Gross . Emma thought Elsa had better taste than that. She wondered what Killian could possibly be saying to make her friend blush and giggle like some infatuated school girl. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and the uneasiness in her stomach when Elsa ran her hand up from his chest to his shoulder under the guise of trying to hear better over the music. His hand went to the small of her back and the smile on Killian’s face felt like a punch to the gut. She’d seen that smile, relaxed, excited, soft. She’d only ever seen it so rarely before and only ever…

She turned away, done with watching the disturbing display in front of her. If Killian and Elsa wanted to flirt and whisper little secrets to each other and exchange meaningful little touches, she wasn’t going to stick around to see it. Really, she thought Elsa had better taste. She thought Elsa was a better friend than to… what? What exactly was Elsa guilty of? Cozying up to her hot friend? Getting close to Emma’s… rival didn’t feel like the right word.

She just wasn’t prepared for it, that was all. There had always been some sort of unspoken thing between the women of the group - Killian was no man’s land - or, rather, no woman's land. Despite his constant flirtatiousness and innuendos, nobody ever took it seriously, nobody ever really considered dating him or going to bed with him, at least not since that night. But there was never really a reason, no agreement made. Elsa could do what she liked. Emma didn’t care. Why would she care? Killian, while awful, was undeniably attractive and if Elsa wanted to - well, Emma didn’t care.

“I see my brother’s not wasting any time,” she heard behind her, the voice somewhat dulled by the thrumming of the music. Emma turned, smiling when she was met with bright blue eyes, just noticeable through a black leather mask, and a cheeky smirk. She looked over the costume he wore so well, a little flustered despite herself at seeing someone dressed as her childhood (and adulthood) crush.

“Liam,” she greeted, holding up her glass in a toast. “How are you enjoying the party?” The smile slipped from his face for a moment before he bit his lip against another.

“Well, I must say it’s just gotten infinitely better,” he answered.

“Ah, so I see Killian isn’t the only smooth talker in the Jones family,” she teased.

“Alas, it’s a family trait. Inherited from our father unfortunately,” he answered, his smile faltering for only a second. “What do you suppose he’s saying?” he asked, gesturing at his brother and Elsa.

Emma scoffed. “If I know him, he’s probably showering her with insincere compliments and using that inherited silver tongue to convince a perfectly intelligent woman that she wants to do something incredibly stupid.”

“And what’s that?”

“Sleep with Killian Jones.”

“I feel as though I should defend him.”

“No need,” Emma assured him. “Everyone knows who Killian is.”

He frowned. “And who is he?”

“Take your pick: playboy, womanizer, egomaniac. I swear David and the guys must just keep him around for entertainment. There is not a sincere bone in that man’s body. Well,” she laughed, turning from the scene in front of them back to the better-Jones. “Maybe one.”

“I see.” His jaw was tight and Emma worried she’d gone too far. She’d forgotten for a moment that this was his brother. She thought about how she’d feel if someone talked about David like this. But then again, David would never deserve it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, regardless. “I shouldn’t insult your family.”

He shrugged. “I’m sure you have your reasons. I summarize then that you’re not a fan of him.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “Surely he can be a bit of a scoundrel at times but I wonder… What exactly is the nature of your feud with my brother? Killian never told me anything apart from the fact that you seem to despise one another.”

Emma hesitated. She’d never told anyone this story before. Sure, her friends had asked in the past, wondering why she hated him so much, especially given their first meeting. But she’d always skirted the question, not wanting to explain herself, not wanting to admit how stupid she’d been, how blind and how reckless. It was humiliating really. But Liam was sweet, and seemed genuinely interested. And she’d just spent the last few minutes insulting his only brother (as far as she knew) and she felt she at least owed him an explanation for it.

“Did Killian ever tell you about the night we met?”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t believe so,” he said, bringing a finger up to scratch a spot behind his ear in a way that was so reminiscent of his brother it threw her for a moment. Between their eyes and their mannerisms and their smiles, for all their differences, the Jones brothers certainly had a lot in common. There was no mistaking their kinship.

“We met at Will’s birthday party about five years ago. He and Killian had a class together so Will brought him along with our usual group. You might not believe it, I don’t think anyone would really, but I didn’t hate your brother the first time I met him.”

“Oh no?” he asked, waiting for her to continue.

“No, we - we actually hit it off really well. He was funny and easy to talk to and actually kind of…” Emma trailed off, finger running over the rim of her glass as she remembered his easy smiles and the way his shoulders shook when he laughed. She remembered the way he spoke, loudly and animatedly with the group but also softly and what she’d thought was sincerely when it was just the two of them. “Sweet,” she finished lamely. “He was sweet.”

She cleared her throat. “I liked him. I was stupid and young and he was charming and well, you know how he is, he’s your brother.” She couldn’t look at him now when she told him the story. It was too embarrassing. She felt as vulnerable now as she had that night and while she’d let herself then, it had been a hard lesson on why she should avoid letting herself feel that way again.

“I do,” he said.

“Anyway, we ended up spending most of the night together in a back booth in the bar. Everyone was dancing and drinking and we just sat there talking.” They’d talked for hours. They’d talked about nothing, silly things, movies, books, what they’d wanted to be when they grew up. But also about real things, things Emma had never talked about with anyone apart from David, not even her closest friends; about her childhood before Ruth, about Neal, about what she wanted out of life but was afraid of going for, afraid of failing. She hadn’t even meant to tell him most of it, but he’d listened in that rare way so few people do, the way they do when they actually care about what you have to say and aren’t just waiting for their chance to talk. She felt stupid now for all the things she’d told him.

“We didn’t even realise the others had left until the lights came on and we were being kicked out because the bar was closing,” she continued. “He, um,” she cleared her throat. “He asked me back to his place but I said no.” She rubbed at her neck, feeling awkward now sharing this with Killian’s brother as she recalled the details of the night and the next morning. She’d said ‘no’ because she liked him, ‘no’ because she didn’t want to go and ruin something good by turning it into a one night stand.

Suddenly, his hand was on her arm, fingers brushing over the bare skin there and her breath caught at how warm he felt against her. It was comforting, familiar though, and almost unsettling in that familiarity. She remembered another set of fingers running up her arm outside her apartment building years ago.

“You don’t have to tell me -” he started.

“No it’s okay,” she cut him off. “He was surprisingly okay with it,” she said. Well, not so surprising considering what he got up to later. Liam didn’t need to know about the kiss - or the other one for that matter. She bit her lip, remembering. “It was late so he offered to walk me back to my apartment. I lived in kind of a shady area back then,” she explained. “He did and we went our separate ways,” after a while , she thought, “and we made plans to meet up the next morning.”

“So, what happened?” he asked, his fingers still idly tracing patterns on her arm up to her shoulder.

“What happened,” Emma started, clearing her throat again as the anger set in. Anger was good. Anger helped with the humiliation, with the hurt. “What happened is I went to his place the next morning and some girl in a towel answered the door.” She saw his eyes widen. She couldn’t see his eyebrows but she knew they were likely shooting up to his hairline.

“What?” he asked, mouth gaping open.

“Yeah. Some blonde, obviously a blonde. He’s got a type, you know. She told me Killian was in the shower and it wasn’t hard to figure out that after I turned him down, he went out and found someone else to get his rocks off with. So yeah, that’s when I realised exactly what kind of guy he is.” He’d probably only walked her home as a favor to Will.

“I’m sorry, love, that must have been awful,” he said. Emma shrugged.

“It is what it is. Honestly I’m just annoyed at myself for not seeing it sooner. I’ve met enough guys who are only after one thing and I don’t know why I convinced myself he wasn’t.” She gave him a small, insincere smile.“Must have been the rum,” she shrugged. There hadn’t been any rum though. Neither of them had had a thing to drink since they’d sat down in that back booth, hadn’t felt the need for it. It had been so easy.

“Perhaps,” he started, and Emma turned to look at him. She’d been fixated on her glass for the last few minutes. She couldn’t really make out his expression in the dim lights, his voice soft enough to be nearly drowned out by the music. “Perhaps you should ask my brother about that night,” he suggested. Emma’s eyes snapped to his in surprise and what almost felt like betrayal.

“Why would I do that?” she demanded, feeling defensive. She pulled back a step, wanting to put a little distance between them after this unexpected turn - what was it with her and baring her soul to the Jones brothers? Was she that much of a sucker for blue eyes and an accent? - but he followed her, moving with her and leaning in close to speak so he wouldn’t have to shout over the music.

“Because, Swan, there are two sides to every story and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that it’s always better to give someone the benefit of the doubt.”

Emma blinked at him, slightly distracted by him being so close to her. The room was crowded and she felt the stickiness clinging to the back of her neck from the heat of so many people packed into one place. A lot of that heat seemed to be coming from him. His hand was still on her arm, having drifted down to her wrist, his thumb tracing over the back of her hand as he spoke, his mouth next to her ear and his breath warm against it. The smell of him was heady around her, like leather and sea air and - wait, had he just called her Swan?

She looked up then, narrowing her eyes as she tried to make out his face under his mask. Something about him… something was familiar, more familiar than brotherly resemblance. His jaw ticked, the muscle clenching in a way that was so… she'd seen it before, it - Oh. Oh, no way . She looked him up and down, taking in the lean frame, the dark, flippy hair that stuck out of his mask rather than the curls she expected, the sharpness of his jawline where Liam’s was softer, the shape of his mouth… Killian. Oh, he was a dead man.

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do,” he said.

She turned her head up to meet his eyes, set her chin like she always did when she was ready for a fight. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” she started, ready to call him out on his little ruse and rip him a new one for tricking her.

“You’re right,” he said and some of her fight was lost to her surprise at the way his voice softened. Who the hell was this Killian in front of her now? Where was the fight, the ego? His hand was still stroking hers, his eyes were sincere and unpretentious and even a little self-deprecating. “So, just who are you, Swan?”

She pulled back, drawing her hand from his and crossing her arms over her chest, trying to wither him with her stare. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Wouldn’t he indeed. She was sure he’d love to find out all about her so that he could use it as fuel for their arguments, like some game. The nerve of -

He ducked his head, catching her eyes and stepping even closer to her. Her breath caught at the openness and the sincerity she saw there. “Perhaps I would,” he said and Emma felt her heart pounding against her ribcage. He hadn’t looked at her like that since that night. Since the night she felt for the first time in years that she’d found someone who understood her, someone she connected with, another lost soul, someone she could actually care about, maybe even - She wanted to believe him. She wanted it to be real. It sounded real. It felt real. And he was so close and the way he looked at her..

Emma didn’t remember moving, didn’t remember putting her drink down, but suddenly her hands were gripping the sides of his face and pulling his lips to hers as she rose up on her toes to meet him. He froze against her for a moment, in shock probably she realised, and she grasped the reality of exactly what she’d just done and how stupid it was. But before she could step back, his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her tightly against him, his body flush with hers as his other hand traveled up to tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck.

She should stop this. This was Killian for god’s sake. Killian, who she hated. Killian, who she swore she’d never let get under her skin again. Killian, who was currently backing them against the wall behind her. She gasped as her back collided with the hard surface and he used the opportunity to slant his mouth over hers, letting his tongue slide into her mouth, making her let out a sound she should have been embarrassed about as heat rushed into her belly. He growled as his hand found her hip, tugging roughly and pressing them even closer together.

She knew she should stop it. This was Killian. Killian, who knew how to push every single one of her buttons, who’d pushed her and challenged her from that first night. Killian, who she looked forward to seeing at every get together if only so they could spend ten minutes insulting each other and she could see his mouth twist into that playful smirk. Killian of the Swans and loves . Of the soft smiles that crinkled his eyes. What if she’d been wrong? What if she’d misjudged him? All these years.

Emma slowed, her hands which had at some point ended up in his hair released their grip and she let one settle around his shoulders, the other sliding down over his chest to rest in the v of his shirt. She could feel his heart racing under her palm, matching her own’s frantic beating. Killian froze again, and then something changed. His hand released it’s nearly painful grip on her hip and slid up her back to rest between her shoulder blades. The hand that was fisted in her hair came around to cup her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek as his lips slowed over hers, his movements no longer desperate and needy but gentle and exploratory.

She let him kiss her, let him open her mouth wider under his own, let him pull at her lips and slide his tongue against hers with a give and take that felt so familiar it sent her heart racing again as a warmth built in her chest and in her stomach and bloomed out through her limbs. She felt his shoulders relax under her own as he melted against her, pressing her against the wall like he wanted to feel every inch of her skin against his through their clothes, feel her heart beating against his and drown her in the warmth that was radiating off of him. She was burning up from the inside out.

He pulled back after a long moment, pressing his forehead to hers, eyes still closed and lips still close enough to touch if she just tilted her head every so slightly. The hand that had been at her cheek slid along her jaw, thumb brushing over her bottom lip as his breath puffed hot against her face. His fingers trailed slowly and featherlight along her spine.

“Emma,” he breathed as her hand came to his cheek, tracing the stubble under her fingers. She was only just pulling him back in when the music stopped.

The lights coming on were like a bucket of ice water being thrown over her. Somewhere, someone was announcing that it was midnight, that it was time for everyone to remove their masks and reveal who they really were.

She saw it in his eyes, the regret as he reached for his mask and it hit her like a blow to the chest. She caught his hand, stopping him from ruining the only excuse she had. If he didn’t, then she could claim she didn’t know it was him. She could convince herself it was all just a mistake. “Swan,” he spoke again, searching her eyes for something she couldn’t give him. This wasn’t who they were.

“Tell anyone about this and I’ll kill you,” she warned. She watched as his lips pressed together and his head fell before he nodded.

“Fair enough,” he said, dropping his hands and stepping back just enough that she could squeeze by.

She did. And then she ran.

***

tagging @kmomof4 and @xsajx because you asked :)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in part two!

#captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan fanfic #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #cs au #captain swan au #much ado about nothing #captain swan movie marathon #csmm #shakespeare au

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

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Chapter 16 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

The song used in this chapter is Sirens by Cher Lloyd

~|Charlie Gillespie|~

A few days go by and none of them are spend without Emily. We help around at the Music Store, write songs, rehearse, and then I drop Emily off at her house where we say goodbye for a good fifteen minutes. “You’re going home today?” she asks me on Thursday evening. We’re in front of the red door, my arms wrapped around her waist and hers around my neck, her fingers tangled up in my hair. “I don’t know yet. I’m okay in Jeremy’s garage.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m sure your parents are worried about you, Charlie.” I avoid her gaze by looking somewhere behind her to try and figure out what to tell her. “Hey,” her voice makes me refocus on her. “Take it from me, running away from your parents isn’t the right option.” “Then why did you?” She releases her grip around my neck and places her hands on my chest, pushing me away a little. “I didn’t run away, Charles. This is different. I would go back to my parents’ if they’d let me.” “Right, sorry.” I tuck a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear. “I’ll go back tomorrow, okay? I can’t face them yet.” “You promise?” “I promise.” A smile breaks through on her face just before she leans in to kiss me one more time. “Good night, Emily Fox.” I plant a kiss on her forehead and step away from her. “Good night, Charlie Gillespie.” She stays put, watching me as I walk away. I turn around once more to throw her a kiss, which she cutely plucks out of the air. I’m so in love with this girl, I’d do anything for her. Even going back to my parents’ house. Anything to make her happy.

I don’t hear from or see Emily the next day. She doesn’t respond to my texts about the new melody I came up with last night or any of my hilarious memes I’d send her during class. She’s not even at the Music Store when I arrive after school. I figure something’s held her up again and decide to just play around with the Black Fender since Ash is too busy with the customers to ask her. Fridays seem busy. The boys arrive around 7 when the buzz in the store has finally died down. “Hey, what are you guys doing here?” Ash finally notices us, a confused look on her face. “Waiting for Emily for band practice,” I reply, placing the guitar back in its place. Ash’s eyes widen and her lips part to let out a huff. “She didn’t tell you what day it is today?” The boys and I exchange glances to check if either of them knows. “Her uncle passed away exactly one year ago. She asked for a day off, and I’m pretty sure she didn’t go to school either.” I swallow a lump in my throat. I can’t believe she didn’t tell either of us. “Why didn’t she say anything?” Owen whispers, that worried look on his face. The same look he had when things didn’t go too well with his sister. A look he seemed to have reserved for the girls he considers his sisters or are his sisters. “She spent this day last year with Mitch, closed off from the world,” Ash replies as she starts sorting through the invoices, which is normally my job when Emily has to close the store. “Do you think she’d appreciate some visitors?” Jeremy asks Ash. “I’m not sure. You could always try? Just don’t push it,” she replies. The boys glance at each other again, all three of us knowing what to do. “And if you do see her, wish her my best.” “We will,” says Owen, “Thanks, Ash.” “No problem.” We leave the store, and suddenly, everything around me seems glum and dark. “We’ll just go check up on her, see if she’ll appreciate some company,” Jeremy suggests. “If she’d rather be alone, we’ll leave straight away,” I agree and then lead the boys to Emily’s house. The road I’ve taken many a times with her before. The road that seems so endless all of a sudden. The road with the red door at the end of it. Even that door seems looming now. We ring the doorbell and wait until Mitch opens the door. His eyes look red and puffy, and he’s in his joggers with a blanket wrapped around him. “Oh, hey, boys,” he greets solemnly and sniffles. “We heard from Ash what today is,” Owen starts, “We wanted to come and see if there’s anything we can do?” Mitch opens the door a little further and steps aside, letting us in. We find Emily in the living room, wrapped up in a blanket with tears running down her face and tissues all around her. My heart breaks at the sight of a broken down Emily. “Ems…” I whisper, catching her attention. She turns her head, her teary eyes wide at the sight of us before she breaks down into sobs again. Her frail body rises from the couch and walks up to us, straight into my arms. As if on automatic, I wrap her up in my arms and start rubbing her back comfortingly. The boys even wrap their arms around us into a group hug. “Is there anything we can do?” Owen asks both Emily and Mitch when we pull away from the hug. “Get you some food or—” he gets cut off by the doorbell ringing. While Mitch goes to open up, Emily looks up at me with sadness looming all around her. “Can you guys just stay?” she asks with a sniffle. “Yeah, of course,” I reply, tucking a strand of hair that’s stuck to her cheek from the tears, behind her ear. “Anything for you, Emily.” She grabs my hand and leads me towards the couch, the boys following suit. “Madison brought us food,” Mitch announces when he walks back in with Madison behind him. “Mom made some lasagna when I told her what today was,” she explains, placing the tray onto the kitchen table before joining us in the living room. “Hey, boys,” she gives us a wave, which all of us return. “How are you feeling?” She walks up to Emily and presses a kiss to her hair. “Better now,” she manages a thankful smile through all the tears. “You guys want anything to drink?” Mitch asks. “I’ll get it,” Madison chimes in, “You sit down.” Mitch obeys like a lost puppy and takes a seat on Emily’s other side. “What do you guys want? Emily, some lemonade?” The sad girl beside me nods her head before placing it onto my shoulder. “Boys?” “Same,” I reply simply, and Jeremy and Owen tell her the same. “Why didn’t you tell me last night what today was?” I carefully ask, placing my arm around her shoulder, so her head lands on my chest instead. “I kind of forgot,” she chuckles tearfully, “I only remembered when I was writing a song upstairs and it reminded me of him a little and then, you know, I was reminded of what day it was. I’m sorry.” “That’s okay, I just got worried when I didn’t hear from you or see you in the store,” I tell her. Madison hands out the lemonades and takes a seat on the couch. “We asked Ash if she knew if you were up for some company,” Jeremy adds after sipping from his drink. “She wasn’t sure, but we wanted to check up on you anyway and see if we could do anything.” She lifts her head from my chest and eyes the three of us with a small smile cracking through her pale complexion. That’s when I notice she’s not wearing any makeup and her hair is scraped up messily. Still, she appears breathtaking. “I’m glad you guys came over,” she admits, and it makes me smile. “Last year, we spend this day at the hospital and then several weeks home,” Mitch chimes in. “We just sat on the couch, ate tubs of ice cream, watched movies and cried. My sister was the only one we saw when she came to check up on us and brought some food.” “Remember what Bobby said just before he died?” Emily asks her uncle, fresh tears pooling her eyes while a smile tugs at her lips at the memory. “You got to keep on dreaming, Emmy. Catch that feeling,” They quote in unison. I realize that’s why she got so mad when I called her ‘Emmy’. It’s what her uncle used to call her. It’s reserved for just him. “How did your uncle die?” Owen asks cautiously, “If you don’t mind me asking.” “Uhm… He got into an accident,” Emily replies, wiping an escaped tear away, “He was on his way home from this musical conference thing, I don’t remember what it was, and the bus he was on crashed and flipped upside down. Several people died that day.” “He had a collapsed lung and several broken bones. He stayed alive for an hour or so more, until Ems and I got to the hospital, and then he slowly went,” Mitch adds. “He waited for us, wanting to see us one more time before he left,” Emily sobs, and I press her closer to me. “I can’t believe his sister didn’t even come to say goodbye.” “Your mother was in New York, Muffin. She wouldn’t have made it in time.” “She came home a week after he died for the funeral, Mitch. She didn’t even try to come and see him.” I flinch at the volume and anger in her voice. Her parents don’t only not care about their own daughter, they didn’t care about her uncle. Probably because he’s the one that put that dream of hers in her head. He’s the one that introduced her to music. Mitch turns to us now, the sad smile still on his face, and says, “The funeral really was beautiful though. Just like Robert would’ve wanted it. Emily wrote a beautiful song and we had a professional singer come in since she couldn’t do it without breaking down. We almost made it into a whole musical, didn’t we, Muffin?” Emily cracks a smile, nodding. “He would’ve loved that so much,” she sniffles. “Can you sing it for me, Muffin?” Her breath hitches in her throat. She’s thinking about it. I can tell by the way she freezes, then rubs her nose once. “Please?” Emily gets up and grabs my hand, beckoning everyone to follow her. She leads me down a hallway and into a large room at the very back of the house. The lights flicker on, revealing an entire studio. Instruments everywhere, pretty much every instrument that exists, and even a recording booth in the corner. My eyes scan the room before landing on Emily. She’s staring into the room too, as if taking it all in. “I haven’t been in here in so long,” she whispers before taking a step. “Can you guys help me?” she turns to us. The three of us spring into action and set everything up; microphones, instruments – she instructs which ones she wants to use – and plug them into the amps. Mitch and Madi sit down on the couch in front of our set up. “You start,” she whispers to me, and I begin strumming the electric guitar. She then nods to Owen, who begins thumping the bass drum, while she starts singing and Jeremy joins in with bass. “I carry the weight of you in my heavy heart And the wind is so icy, I am numb I carry the weight of you heading back to start With a thousand eyes on me, I stumble on” She shuts her eyes when her voice waivers, and I witness a single tear rolling down her cheek. “I am tired, I'm growing older I'm getting weaker everyday, yeah I carry the weight of you I carry the weight of you” Jeremy and I quit playing for a moment, leaving Owen with the beat that carries Emily into the pre-chorus. “Lay down here Beside me in the shallow water Beside me where the sun is shining on us still” Jeremy and I then chime in again, and Emily’s voice grows with our instruments. “Lay down here Beside me in the hallowed water Beside me where the silver lining stays until The sirens' calling” She takes the microphone from the stand and walks up to Jeremy, a small smile tugging at her lips. The room suddenly feels less dark, less sad. As if something’s lifted. “We follow the sun down low 'til we hit the night And you hold me so tightly It's hard to breathe Oh” She turns to Owen as if speaking to him now. He gives her an encouraging smile, which boosts her singing a little. “And I'm tired, I'm growing older I'm getting weaker everyday, yeah We follow the sun down low We follow the sun down low” She turns around to face Mitch and Madison again, really getting into the song. Her voice grows stronger and stronger with the second. “Lay down here Beside me in the shallow water Beside me where the sun is shining on us still Lay down here Beside me in the hallowed water Beside me where the silver lining stays until The sirens' calling The sirens' calling” She now walks up to me as we slow the music down a little, letting her voice carry us instead. She rests her head on my shoulder for a moment, as if needing to lean on me for strength. “Yeah, I'm tired, I'm growing older I'm getting weaker everyday, yeah” She lifts her head, and takes a step away from me, needing some space. “I am drowning, and you're stealing every breath Take me away and just Lay down here Beside me in the shallow water Beside me where the sun is shining on us still Lay down here Beside me in the hallowed water Beside me where the silver lining stays until The sirens' calling The sirens' calling” Owen and Jeremy stop playing, leaving me with the same solo I did at the start. Emily looks at me with hope and happiness in her teary eyes. Then it’s completely silent for a second. “Thanks, guys,” she whispers, her voice shaky as she breaks down again. The boys and I leave our instruments for what they are and rush up to her to embrace her, forming a shield around her against all the sadness in the world. Mitch and Madison join us, making it the biggest group hug ever. I can tell Emily and Mitch are both glad we’d come ringing at their door. I can tell they appreciate us for it, without having to tell us they do. This group hug and the smiles we receive from them, even on a sad day like this one, is enough for me to know.

Taglist: @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @hannahhistorian92 @gingerxarmy @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @lovesanimals @ashleyleblancx @calamitykaty @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

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betterthebest · 4 years ago

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Here We Go Again | An MJF Fanfiction

Status: *Not requested* Description: Bella was a teen wrestler working in the Indy circuit until an injury cost her her short career. She and MJF were friends turned lovers, turned strangers and friends again. What happens when she joins AEW to lead a faction with her ex? Will their history jeopardize their rekindled friendship?

A/N: This is an alternate universe (no covid :p) where MJF didn’t earn a spot in the inner circle. Hope you all enjoy my original story!

See also: (Part 1) ___________________________________________

Part 2 October 2020

Max called me out of the blue almost four years to the day we broke up. “I’m coming over, I have a plan.” He hung up before I could say anything. He came over with a plan, a contract, and Tony Khan. “You’re coming to AEW and we’re creating a faction,” Max grinned. “Wait, what?” I looked at him like he was crazy. This was the last thing that I thought would ever happen. “You heard me,” he held out a contract. I took the piece of paper in my hands and looked over at Tony. “Is this a prank?” He laughed. “In two weeks, you’re coming out to Jacksonville. Put in your two weeks if you have a job” Tony said firmly. All three of us went over the plan. Being the leader of the faction is what convinced me to come back. I was apprehensive only cause I wouldn’t be able to wrestle. I went to work that night and did as Tony said. The next day Max came back to my house and we wrote out a promo. I had a talent for writing and any time I wrote a promo for myself, people loved it. I only did a few promos during my career since I’ve only been in one major company. We went over what I wrote three times that day.

I had to rehearse for a few days at least to memorize. Two weeks passed and on that Monday, Max and I flew out to Florida. I ended up meeting with everyone I used to work with and it felt amazing. It was like time didn’t even pass with some of them. I ended up staying with Britt and Austin at their place. I didn’t want to intrude on them, but they both insisted I stay instead of paying for hotels. They were always the type of friends I could count on for anything. When Wednesday came, Britt and I drove to the arena. I prepared for the show by saying my promo to Britt to get her opinion. She loved it and said she was excited to hear it tonight. I dressed in black leggings and a black cropped long sleeve shirt. I changed out of my sneakers and borrowed black booties from Anna Jay in the locker room. She suggested I wear them. She’s the type of person that made anyone feel like a close friend. We talked by catering as the show went on. Later that night I met up with Max in the hallway before his match with Jericho. “You ready?” He said excitedly, trying to hype me up. “I’m nervous, but I’m ready.” Millions of people were about to watch me live. The most I’ve talked to was an auditorium of 85 people. “You got this. Just focus on me, okay.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. He knew more than anyone that my anxiety could get the best of me. I nodded with a smile. “Oh and wear this.” He took a necklace out of his sweatpants pocket. It was the necklace he gave me for our six month anniversary. It had a single diamond on the chain. “You kept it.” I gave it back to him after we broke up. I wore it throughout our relationship, never taking it off until the day we broke up. “I did and I want you to have it back. I know we’re not together anymore, but you are my best friend.” I smiled a those words. He was still my best friend too and to hear him say that, made me so happy. I took the necklace from his hands and put it around my neck. “Looks great” Max said. He had to get ready to go to gorilla. He slipped his sweatpants off and tossed them onto a crate. “See you in 20 minutes,” he winked. I let out a chuckle and watched him walk away. I watched the match on a monitor in the back with a bunch of other people. My cue came when Max was about to hit his finisher. My music from 2016 played through the speakers. No one would recognize it besides Max which was the point. Max was distracted which caused him to lose. I stood on the ramp, arms across my chest. I got a mic from a stage hand. “Hi Maxwell, my love. Surprised to see me?” I paused, smirking. “You know, when I broke your heart...I felt nothing.” I chuckled. We wanted to pretend like our breakup was pure drama. I wanted to be seen just as heartless as his character is portrayed. “But now, looking at you in the ring, you look pathetic. I’m feeling very sorry” I said sarcastically. He stood up, Wardlow holding him up. “I have a proposition for you Maxwell.” I took small steps toward him. With my free hand I pushed my long black hair to my back. “I know you want to join a stable. We’ve worked so well together since we were 16.” I placed my hand over my heart. “Join me Maxwell, we’ll assemble a great team. Be my right hand man, what do you say?” He got a microphone. He pulled away from Wardlow and stepped outside the ropes, a couple feet from me. He leaned on the ropes before gaining his footing and takin a few steps forward. “On one condition.” He held up his finger. I nodded firmly. “We’re 50/50. You don’t control me, and I don’t control you. We both have a say in who is worthy to join. Deal?” He raised his brow at me waiting for my answer. I paused for a moment before answering. “50/50 you say?” He nodded and said yeah, but not into the mic. “You’ve got yourself a deal!” He smirked, “and Bella... Don’t interrupt my match again.” He was now inches from my face, bending slightly to look in my eyes. “You don’t control me,” I smirked. He nodded his head with a smirk of his own. Our foreheads touched. All of a sudden he grabbed the back of my head and went in for a kiss, but faked me out. I didn’t even pucker my lips. I was surprised since we didn’t go over that in our script. He walked away, laughing. Wardlow followed close behind. I turned and watched as he went up the ramp. The camera was behind me, closing in on the shot as that show faded to black.

Once it ended, I went backstage running into Max’s arms. The adrenaline rush felt amazing. “That was awesome, I feel so alive.” He picked me up, spun me then put me back down on my feet. “You were so good. I’m proud of you for getting back in the game.” “All thanks to you.” I smiled. We stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime. That faded when I heard Tony’s voice behind me. “Miss promo, that was great!” I turned around to see him and Cody. “Glad you’re here” Cody shook my head. I had to control myself not to absolutely fangirl over him. I used to have a crush on Cody when I was 11. “Thank you. it felt amazing to finally do it after all my practice.” “I’m excited to see what you come up with next week,” Cody said and Tony nodded in agreement. Max put his arm around me, “she has a lot of ideas.” I looked up at him and smiled. He always knew how to make me feel important. He would go out of his way to lift my spirits whenever he could. And for the next few days Tony, Max and I consulted on the weeks to follow. Right now I have a year contract, but if all goes well I can sign more. I wanted that to happen for sure. I didn’t know what else I could do once this was over, but I tried not to think about it. I had to take it a week at a time and next week, I wanted to do something fun for the promo. I planned to find three pictures of Max and I when we were younger. One when we trained, one as close friends, and the last one during our relationship. “He’ll probably kill me, but it’s worth it,” I told Britt. I found the pictures on my phone in a backup folder from my old phones. I deleted a lot off of social media when we broke up. I deleted most of my wrestling pictures in a fit of rage one night. That was one of my regrets in life. It may seem small, but when wrestling is your life, it’s important. I went back home to New York that Thursday night. Max drove me home where I still live with my family. “Wanna come in?” I asked Max before getting in the car. "Your food will get cold before you reach Long Island.” We picked up dinner on the way back. He laughed, “you’ve convinced me.” We got out of the car and got in the house through my separate entrance. We started eating right away, silence fell over us. He looked over at me when he finished. “Bold question,” he said out of the blue. “Go ahead,” I finished chewing my food. He never asked when he had a bold question, so this was odd. “If we were to, you know, would that ruin things?” I swallowed hard. “Um, well it hasn’t ruined things before. We used to, you know at least once a week.” Max chuckled, “fair enough... But then again it took some years.” “But not because of that.” “Right, right.” We sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Wanna do it?” He shrugged. My eyes widened, “right now?” Max nodded, “I mean, we can wait.” “Sorry, I’m just shocked.” I let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind,” I said softly. “Are you sure?” “Let’s go,” I stood up. Max stood, his eyes widened this time. “Really?” I walked towards my bed and sat on the edge. “You coming Friedman?” I don’t know what I was thinking. Is this a good idea? Probably not, but I wasn’t thinking with my brain. He most likely wasn’t either. He came over to me and took off his shirt. Seeing him with no shirt and sweats on did things to me. He reached out and grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. “I don’t have abs anymore,” I said softly. He ran his hands up and down my sides, “still perfect.” He bent his head and brushed his lips against mine before locking them together. It felt nice to kiss him again. His arms wrapped around my body and he lifted me a little to push me back on the bed. He broke the kiss, “I missed that.” “Me too,” I smiled. That night was amazing. Memories flooded back. It was like we hadn’t missed a beat. Our bodies just molded together perfectly. We laid in bed, wrapped in blankets. Max held me close, his body heat radiating off on me. He would kiss my shoulder randomly from time to time. I always loved when he did that. “That felt great,” he said for the third time causing me to giggle. “It really did.” He spent the night with me. We went again before falling asleep. I fell asleep right away while in his arms. I will never forget that night.

#mjf #mjf fanfic #mjf imagine #aew imagine #wrestlingfanfiction #here we go again

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writer-k-pop · 4 years ago

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Misunderstood (P3)

네가 정크 푸드를 먹고 있어서 그는 불행할 거야. He'd be unhappy because you're eating junk food.

Description: 8 months after starting work as Soonyoung's secretary at Starlight Entertainment, the feelings you have for Soonyoung only continue to grow. When you accidentally end up confessing to him, will he respond and let you into his life or shut you out? Will what you've seen and learned about him in the past eight months be enough? Warnings: Swearing Genre: Angst, Fluff, CEO!Soonyoung/Hoshi x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.8k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

2 months later

"Late morning, sir?" Seungkwan's voice seeped through the office door.

"Something like that." Soonyoung replies.

I raised my head when the office door opened and Soonyoung walked in dressed very formally. I stood to greet him.

"Morning, (y/n)." Soonyoung beat me to words, "Sorry for being late. I had an appointment."

"Morning." I took my seat again and briefly looked at the calendar, "It wasn't written here."

Soonyoung shook his head, setting up his desk for the day, "It was a last minute thing."

I nodded slowly, "Is it the reason you're wearing formal wear and making me look lazy in the process?" I joked, looking down at my simple but clean outfit.

"Partly yes." Soonyoung answered but quickly rephrased, "I mean, I needed to wear this for the appointment and something I have later on tonight but you could never look lazy. You always look great in your outfits."

My shoulders straightened slightly at his comment. "Oh, thank you."

"Some days, even, I feel like you out-dress me. Which makes me look lazy." He rambled on, trying to make up for something.

I laughed, "That's a pretty high compliment coming from the CEO of Starlight." Straightening a stack of documents, I head over to his desk with the papers and a notepad. "These are the finances from the previous quarter's releases and debuts." I informed him and sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Soonyoung took the documents from me and flips through them before nonchalantly setting them aside. "Our schedule for the day?" He asked, leaning forward, expectantly. I don't know when he started calling it 'our schedule' but I noticed it about a couple months ago. Though every time I try to ask about it, he does what he does best and skirts around it, usually changing subjects. So I decided to just stop asking.

"Let's see." I opened my folder and pulled out the day's schedule, "There's a meeting in 20 minutes about Starlight's finances.”

Soonyoung sighs heavily, "Boring."

"That's what you always say, yet you always pay so much attention in those meetings." I countered but before he could reply, I moved on. "Then you immediately go into rehearsals for Basics and that new group who's name you still have to finalize. They also requested lunch with you so I've arranged for some sandwiches to be delivered to the practice rooms for that."

I glanced up and saw Soonyoung pouting and looking down at his attire which is not fit to be in the practice room.

I nodded towards the closet in the corner, "You seem to forget that you have at least two changes of clothes in there for times like these."

His face lit up at the reminder and I shook my head. Sometimes I believed that if I wasn't around, the poor man would forget his head somewhere.

"What's after all that?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, because you were late and missed your 9am meeting, I moved it to 3pm." I read off, "Then after that, there's nothing."

"Great!" Soonyoung suddenly exclaimed. "How would you like to go out with me tonight?" He asked, shocking me into silence.

I cleared my throat, "Uhm, it's not Thursday, Soonyoung. We usually go out on Thursday nights." I said nervously, wondering why the sudden change.

He shakes his head, "It's not Thursday, but we can still have dinner together, no?" He tilts his head to the side in question.

"I mean, yeah, I guess so." I answered, "Where would you like to go? I'll make the reservation."

Soonyoung shrugged, "Wherever you want to go. You pick tonight." He smiled warmly.

I smiled back, though my mind was racing trying to find a suitable place. "I will do that. Anything else?"

"You want more than dinner?" He asked, shocked. "I mean we could also do dessert but that might be a lot of food. And it might be late when we do, are you sure you can stay up that late?"

I chuckled, "I meant about your daily schedule."

He chuckled too and then shook his head.

I took my leave to my desk but halfway there, Soonyoung suddenly remembered one last thing.

"OH!" He exclaimed and I turned on a dime to face him, "Can you go check up on Alissa Kim and her recovery? And maybe bring her some flowers?"

"We can do it together, later." I reminded him, "You don't have any meetings after 3 and I'm sure she'd love to talk to you in person and not just your secretary."

His mouth dropped open in a small 'o.' "Good idea." He gave me a thumbs up and I walked back to my desk.

"Order flowers." I wrote on a notepad as a reminder.

After some minutes of silence, Soonyoung moved out of his chair.

"Aren't you coming with?" He asked when I didn't move from mine.

I shook my head, "Not this time, unfortunately. Seungkwan asked me for some help on a few things."

Soonyoung's shoulders sagged ever so slightly I'm surprised I even caught it.

"And the rehearsals?" He continued, ignoring the remaining time before his meeting which ticks away.

"I will try but I can't stay for the entirety of it." I answered, "Your job may be chunked off, Soonyoung, but mine never slows."

"Well, remind me to change your job description then." He commented.

"You don't have to, I actually enjoy it a lot." I told him before noticing the time, "Now go before you're late for the second time this morning." I shooed him out of the office as he chuckled.

Once the office door was firmly shut behind him, I took my seat again and let out a breath.

Why would he all of a sudden want to have dinner with me? And the disappointment when he heard I wouldn't be joining the finance meeting. Did I imagine seeing the disappointment? He couldn't have been that disappointed when I said I wouldn't be going, could he? And what last minute appointment could he have had without telling me? Maybe he didn't have time to tell me? No, he always tells me about his schedule if it effects his schedule here. So where was he?

During the past two months, I have done well at keeping my personal feelings out of the workplace but just watching him work and the way he treats his employees makes the feelings continue to grow.

"I've got to stop reading into things." I mumbled to myself before shaking out my shoulders and looking at the new emails that have popped up.

"Reading into what?" Seungkwan's voice appeared in the office making me jump and scream in fear.

I spun around to see him standing half in the door with an apologetic look on his face.

"I didn't mean to scare you." He apologized quickly.

Holding a hand over my heart, I shook my head. "I'm fine. You just snuck up on me."

"You scare easily, don't you?" He observed and made his way to my desk.

"Very." I told me then looked at him in warning, "But don't you ever tell Soonyoung that. He'll take advantage of it and one day you may end up visiting me in the hospital."

Seungkwan let out a loud laugh, "Soonyoung wouldn't do that. Not to you. He cares too much." He said, casually.

I paused for a split second, wondering what he meant by his last statement. 'He cares too much.' About who??

"So can you help with the project?" He continued on as if nothing was wrong with what he had just said.

"Uh, yeah." I watched as he grabbed one of the chairs near Soonyoung's desk and dragged it all the way over to my desk. "I think I can mess with the schedule enough to make it happen."

"Are you sure it's going to be okay for me to take that many days off? I've never done it before." Seungkwan worried.

I nodded, "Yes, it's going to be okay. Your sister's wedding is absolutely a reason to take a week off. Plus like you've said before, I'm here now."

Seungkwan gave me a warm smile and wrapped me in a hug, "You're the best."

...

"I have a reservation under (y/n)." I told the hostess when we reached her station.

The restaurant rumbled with the conversations and clanking of silverware but wasn't extremely busy. I was thankful for that considering I was walking around with the CEO of Starlight Entertainment who I also seemed to have a growing crush on. Liking for? Whatever the appropriate term is.

"Right this way, please." The hostess smiled, picked up two menus, and started walking into the restaurant.

As we passed the kitchen, the warm scents of sharp spices and nutty sauces filled my nose and sent my stomach into a spiraling realization of how hungry I actually was.

"Is right here okay?" The hostess asked, gesturing to the table tucked away in the corner.

"Perfect." I told her and she set the menus on the table before heading back to the front of the restaurant.

"I've never been here before." Soonyoung looked around while blindly placing his jacket on the back of his chair.

I took my seat and glanced around as well, "It's been a few months since I was here but it's one of my favorites." The restaurant has changed decors slightly to match the concurrent season but other than that, it was practically the same.

"If it's one of your favorites, what do you recommend?" Soonyoung sat and opened up his menu, scanning the options.

I opened mine, "Would it be cheesy if I said the whole menu?" I glanced at him a playful smile on my lips.

He tried, and failed, to hold back a laugh and nodded, "Very cheesy. But I'm not complaining."

"Then, the pastas are really good and the steak is also excellent." I offered, ignoring the last part.

"What are you gonna get?" He asked, continuing on the path I'd chosen.

"I think," I paused and scanned the pages, "I think I'm going to get the shrimp pasta. It's got lots of veggies." I smiled happily. "What about you?"

"The braised chicken looks good." Soonyoung leaned back, arms outstretched, like an old man reading his morning newspaper.

"Evening." Our waiter walked up to the table with two glasses of water and set them down in front of us. "My name's Bomin and I'll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?"

I nodded, "I'll get the veggie and shrimp pasta, please."

"And I'll have the braised chicken." Soonyoung added.

"What would you like as a side?" Bomin questioned, "We have a side salad, mashed potatoes, grilled green beans, or steamed vegetables."

"A salad would be great." Soonyoung smiled, brightly.

"And anything else to drink besides water?" Bomin asked the both of us.

"What kinds of wine do you have?" Soonyoung wondered.

"Oh, I apologize for not having that menu ready for you, Mr. Kwon." Bomin bowed apologetically and pulled out a folded sheet from his apron, "Here are our wines for the season."

I glanced at Soonyoung with a "are you serious?" expression but he was too busy reading the wine menu to notice.

After a couple seconds, he frowned. "Who am I kidding? I'm not a wine connoisseur." Then he leaned forward slightly. "Would you pick one for us?"

Bomin nodded, "Two glasses?"

I put a hand on Soonyoung's arm for a moment to stop him, "Actually, I won't be drinking tonight."

"Why not?" Soonyoung questioned.

"It's a week day and I have to go back to the office later to finish up some things." I informed him.

"Just one glass, then." He said and Bomin nodded before walking away with our menus. "But we drink on Thursdays?" He wondered, turning towards me.

"We do. But it's usually when we're completely clocked out." I told him, "Which I am not currently."

"We have a driver so if you're worried about driving..." Soonyoung reminded me, trailing off.

I shook my head, "I gotta have a clear mind for work."

"Is the work too stressful?" He asked, suddenly very concerned.

My eyes widened at the fact that he would even think that, "Not at all!" I waved my hands in emphasis, "It's a personal choice. Alcohol hits me pretty easily."

Immediately the concern was wiped away and replaced with teasing. "So you're a lightweight. And to think I thought you could handle your alcohol seeing as we drink together weekly."

"And here I thought you'd never been here before yet our waiter seemed to know who you are." I raised my eyebrows at him, throwing his joke back at him.

He raised his hands in surrender, "You caught me." He placed a hand on his heart and bowed his head slightly, "My apologies if I have offended you. It was just fun to see you get excited about this place."

"No offense." I told him, "Just tell me next time."

"You got it." Soonyoung nodded curtly just as our waiter returned with our food and his wine.

...

"Can I ask you something?" I set down my fork, my stomach full to the brim with pasta, shrimp, and veggies.

Soonyoung rested his forearms on the edge of the table, fork and knife still in his hands, "Shoot."

"Why don't you correct them?" I questioned, a dull feeling a deja vu rising.

"Who?" He asked, popping another bite of chicken into his mouth.

"The articles that say you're mean, angry, and selfish." I clarified and watch as his chewing slowed down considerable.

"You could always correct them. There's nothing in any company policy or contract that says you can't." He swallowed and took another bite as if my options were obvious.

"I don't do it because I wouldn't ever do anything you didn't want me doing. And it's clear you don't want to fight the articles so I don't." I explained, "But I'm serious, Soonyoung. Why don't you? They're straight attacking you and your character."

After swallowing, he laid down his fork and knife before wiping his mouth with his napkin. "Because they're not entirely false. And at this point, it'd take too much money and time to correct the situation."

He lifted his wine glass to his lips and took a careful sip. 8 months ago, the stark contrast from the media portrayal of Kwon Soonyoung and the actual Kwon Soonyoung would've shocked me to my core. But now, it just made me worry about how that portrayal was effecting him.

"Plus this way," He swirled the wine around in the glass and stared at it. "I get the best of the best trainees. The ones who know about my 'reputation' and who are still brave enough to join my company because they want this career more than anything in the world."

"I don't think any of what the articles say is true, you know." I said going back to a previous statement of his.

He smiled sadly, still staring at his glass. "Then you don't know me."

"Soonyoung." I turned my body more towards him, "I have worked with you for eight months. I have seen you every working day from literally dawn to dusk sometimes. And none of those articles are true. You aren't mean or angry, you're confident and really good at your job. Sometimes a little too stubborn but that stubbornness has gotten you where you are. And you are nowhere near selfish. You are honestly the most selfLESS man I have ever met. I don't know of any other CEO who personally checks on his trainees on a weekly basis. And not just to check their progress but also their mental and physical health."

Soonyoung chuckled but the sad undertone still lingered. "You don't know what I'm like from sunset to sunrise." He stated.

Before I could stop myself, my heart took the reins, "What if I wanted to?"

He looked at me, eyes searching for any signs of a joke being played. I stared back and hoped I didn't just make a complete fool of myself.

"You." Soonyoung finally spoke, "You want to know that side?"

I nodded, lips sealed together, too afraid I'd say the wrong the thing if I used my voice.

"Why?" He wondered.

I took a deep breath, "Why not?" I started, "I've come to enjoy your presence, your personality, and well, you. The way you had only known me for less than a day when you decided to cut off all business with Mr. Park because I was treated poorly at his company."

"That should've been done years ago." Soonyoung interjected.

"But I was the final push to end it." I continued. "And the way you care so intensely for all of your staff and trainees. Worrying about their health to the point of almost panicking when one is hospitalized. Much like a father."

"Anyone would do that." He interrupted, seemingly not wanting to believe my words.

"No. Not just anyone would do that." I argued with him then continued, "You celebrate each of your artists' comebacks and debuts as if they've just won the biggest award of the year."

"None of those explain why you, (y/n), want to know why I say the rumors are not entirely false." Soonyoung shook his head.

"Because I like the man I've seen everyday at work. I admire his ability to ignore the articles and do what he does best: care for and support others." I stated. "I enjoy seeing the little knick knacks that no one else gets to see. The little jokes you throw that no one else understands. Right now, I have your days. Well, most of them. But I want the nights. I want to see who you are when the company ID is not on your immediate person. When your mind isn't focusing on everyone but yourself. I want that Soonyoung too. Not just the CEO version." I finished softly.

"And what if you don't like that Soonyoung?" He questioned, glancing away like if he saw me say the answer, he wouldn't be able to handle it.

"You mean, what if I find the articles to be true?" I rephrased his question and he simply nodded. "From what I've seen, you're not even half of what they claim you to be. Even if you are a little selfish, mean, or angry outside of the company, anyone would understand. Your life's in the spotlight. Your marriages and subsequent divorces were messy and publicized. Anyone would be angry about that. No one wants a messy life. And who knows, maybe you'll be the one who doesn't like non-secretary (y/n)." I shrugged, reality sitting smugly on my shoulder.

"That'd be impossible." Soonyoung whipped around and countered.

"How do you know?" I questioned, "I could be carrying the weight of four divorces and am just hiding it." I joked.

Soonyoung's eyes widen in shock, "Do you?" He lowered his voice and leaned closer, a hint of belief could be heard.

I smiled and giggled, "No, if I went through four husbands in the span of my life so far, I would say I'm a very messed up person."

He let out sigh of relief then glanced at his watch. "Oh shit, it's already 9pm."

"Already?" I snatched my phone from my purse then cursed under my breath when the clock surely reads 9:06pm. "I gotta get back to the company."

Soonyoung only nodded as I stood up. "You go ahead, have Sam take you and then tell him he can go home."

"What about you?" I worried, hands resting on the back of my chair.

He raised his half full wine glass, "I think I'll finish this wine and then take a taxi home."

I shifted from one foot to the other, uneasy about his plan.

"It'll be fine, I've done it before." Soonyoung said when he noticed my nervousness. "Just go and get your work done and then go home and rest."

"Okay." I caved to his plan and turned to leave.

As I thanked the hostess, the realization that I basically confessed to Soonyoung and he didn't give a full answer hits, crushing my soul like a ton of bricks. Sam was waiting outside and opened the car door for me when I exited the building.

"Is Mr. Kwon having a wine night again?" He wondered when he took in my solo appearance.

It took a second to register that he was talking to me. But my voice didn't want to work so I just simply nodded and dipped into the car.

Sam closed the door, quickly moved to the driver's seat, and began the drive to the company. Leaning my head against the window, I couldn't help but replay parts of the night's events. From the aloof conversations during the meal to the sombre atmosphere at the end. The sadness in his eyes projecting his belief in the rumors about him burned into my mind.

'Because it's not entirely false.' Soonyoung's voice echoed in my mind. 'None of those explain why you, (y/n), want to know why I say the rumors are not entirely false.'

"Ms. (y/l/n)?" Sam spoke from the front of the car, breaking me out of my thoughts. "We've arrived."

I looked out the window and sure enough, we were parked in front of the company building.

"Thank you, Sam." I said and then exited the car.

Scanning my ID, I waited for the loud clicks of the doors. As I walked through the lobby, I heard some chatter near the cafe. Walking over, I caught two male and two female trainees snacking on chips and junk food.

"What are you doing?" I asked, making them freeze.

"We were hungry." One of the male trainees lowers his gaze in shame.

"We didn't have enough cash for any meals." A female trainee added on.

"What do you think Mr. Kwon would say?" I said, crossing my arms.

The younger male trainee took in a breath, "He wouldn't be very happy at us for eating."

I smiled sadly. It was obvious that this trainee was new and had read the articles. "You're right. He wouldn't be very happy but not because you're eating. He'd be unhappy because you're eating junk food and not proper food." I looked towards the older trainees, "You know you could've asked for a meal and the company would've paid for it."

"We couldn't find anyone here this late." The second female trainee said.

"What about your managers?" I questioned, eyebrows scrunching in concern.

"Ours went home for the night." The older male trainee said.

"And ours is already really stressed about Alissa so we didn't want to stress him out even more." The second female trainee explained.

"How many of you are here in the practice rooms right now?" I asked, realizing that their hushed tones must've meant they were trying to hide from everyone in the building.

"A few more of us." The first female trainee stated, "They said they weren't hungry so we came out because Tae was on the verge of fainting." She gestured towards the younger male.

I sighed and pulled out my wallet. Sliding out the company card, I handed it to the first female trainee, "There's a sandwich shop down the street that's always open until 11. Go buy enough sandwiches and water for everyone who's in that practice room."

The trainee took the card into her hands with care, as if a sudden movement would break the card in two.

"And when you get back with the food, you can bring the card up to my office to return it." I finished, "And don't do this again."

"You won't tell Mr. Kwon, will you?" The older male trainee asked, worry in his voice.

I smiled and shook my head, "I won't if you leave right now."

With that, all four of them stood up, bowed, and quickly left the building, talking excitedly about what kinds of sandwiches they were going to buy. I watched them until they disappeared from view then began throwing their trash in the garbage can. After their mess was cleaned up, I quickly shuffled to the elevators and didn't even have to wait for an elevator to arrive. Once I reached the tenth floor, I nearly jogged down the hall and into the office.

The draft's deadline was up at midnight and I hadn't even started to organize and make it presentable. Sitting down, I began to type, click, and drag paragraphs and diagrams around into the order I wanted them.

Halfway through my computer haze, a knock sounded from the office doors.

"Come in." I called, thinking it was the trainee returning my company card.

The door opened and closed and footsteps made their way towards my desk. Again, thinking it was the trainee, I didn't bother to look up or take in the fact that the footsteps were much heavier against the floor.

"What was a trainee doing with your company card?" Soonyoung's voice made my entire body freeze. He set the card down on my desk by my keyboard.

Squeezing my eyes shut in failure, I let out a breath. "I caught them eating junk food in the lobby and told them to use my card to buy them and their fellow trainees some sandwiches at the shop down the street."

I reached for the card but Soonyoung placed his hand over mine, effectively stopping me.

"And you weren't going to tell me?" He questioned.

I stayed silent and he took that as his answer.

"That would explain why she looked so nervous when I asked her what she was doing at the elevators." He chuckled. "Where were the managers?"

I looked up at him then. His cheeks were slightly tinged pink so he wasn't drunk but he wasn't completely sober either. His hair looked more messy than when I had left him over an hour ago like he'd run his hand through it one too many times. In his state, I wondered if I should tell him now or wait until the morning.

Soonyoung pouted, "Please? I promise I won't do anything about it until the morning." He held out his pinkie.

I gave him a lopsided grin and connected my pinkie with his. "It was a group of female and male trainees. The female trainees didn't want to bother their manager because their manager is with Alissa. And the male trainees said their manager simply went home for the night."

"He just left them here?" Soonyoung stood up straight, in disbelief. "Absolutely ridiculous." I took the opportunity to pull my previous trapped hand back towards me. The warmth of Soonyoung's hand still lingered on my skin.

I looked up in time to see Soonyoung march towards his desk, muttering something about firing or disciplinary action.

"Soonyoung," I called out to him, making him pause and look towards me. I raised an eyebrow, "You promised nothing until tomorrow morning."

He composed himself and pulled his shoulders back. "You're right. I promised." Then he made his way to small couch opposite his desk, and conveniently perpendicular to mine, and plopped himself down on it.

After eyeing him for a couple seconds, I decided he wasn't going to do anything rash.

"Let me finish this draft and then we can get you home." I told him, eyes already back on my computer monitors.

As I worked, I could feel his eyes staring at me from the couch. I brushed it off, needing to finish it by the deadline but after a while, it became impossible to ignore.

"Can I help you something, Soonyoung?" I asked, looking over at him.

Soonyoung lazily shook his head, "Nope, I'm just lookin' at you."

"Why? Do I have something on your face?" I wondered, hands flying to my cheeks.

He shook his head again, "Nope, you're just pretty."

I felt my heart speed up to 100 miles an hour and tried to hide it. "I think you had a little too much wine. And why did you come back here? I thought you were going home after you were finished at the restaurant?"

"I missed you." Soonyoung sank further in the couch, his head resting back.

We fell into a silence filled only by the clicks of my mouse and the clacks of my keyboard as I tried my best to refocus on the task at hand.

"Say something." Soonyoung whispered just as I saved and sent the document off. An hour before the deadline, but still the latest I had ever turned something in.

"What would you like me to say, Soonyoung?" I questioned, moving towards my email, looking for anything urgent before I took him home.

“Anything." He said softly.

I looked at him from my desk. His eyes trained on the ceiling and his shoulders sagging in exhaustion. I couldn't tell whether the exhaustion was physical or mental.

"Shouldn't it be me asking you to say something?" I countered, watching his face as he tries to decipher what I meant.

He stayed silent as I packed my bag, turned off my computer, and helped him to his feet. The entire way to my car he was silent. I had wanted to check on the trainees before I left but with Soonyoung at my side, that wasn't something I could've managed so I decided to do it the next day when I could sneak away. Knowing the way to his home, I drove us in a never ending silence through the dark night.

When we arrived at his house, he still hadn't said a word. Even as I guided him into his house, his lips stayed shut, voice mute.

"If you're not going to say anything, then I will." I finally spoke, stopping in my tracks. Soonyoung doesn't realize I stopped until he's a few steps ahead and turned around.

"I like you. I want to know every version of you that there is. And I want to make my own conclusions. Not rely on the ones from the articles." I launched into a small confession. "If you don't feel the same, just say so and I'll go back to being your secretary and only your secretary. You just have to say so."

I waited for an answer but he still stayed silent. As I turned to leave, he finally spoke.

"I've never had anyone who wanted to know." He said softly, taking small steps towards me. "Well, there have been a few but they all got scared by the articles before they could make their own conclusions. So I'd learned to just let people believe what they wanted. And then you showed up. From day one, you didn't treat me like the big intimidating boss like the others had. You treated me like a regular, stressed out CEO trying his best to run a successful company."

I looked down, trying to hide a smile at his near exact CEO image I saw.

"I'm grateful for that, you know. But I'm afraid that you'll walk away like everyone else." Soonyoung continued. "That you'll end up hating what you find and leave." By now he was standing right in from of me. Close enough that I saw his longing for me and the fear that rimmed his eyes.

"I can't promise that I won't leave." I almost whispered, "But I can promise I won't be scared off by the articles and make my own conclusion."

He leaned his forehead against mine, "That's enough for me." He mumbled before placing lips on mine.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, it was easy to melt into him and his kiss. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist and I could smell the last traces of wine against his familiar cologne.

We pulled apart but stayed wrapped in each other's arms.

"So I was never reading too much into things all these months?" I questioned, looking into his happy eyes.

"Probably not." Soonyoung smiled.

"Then if you'll give me this answer, when did this all start?" I wondered carefully.

Soonyoung looked off to the side in thought, "Probably a few months ago. I had asked you what 'our' schedule was in the elevator and you had totally missed the fact that I said 'our' and said it all in terms of 'your' schedule."

I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed back slightly. "I'm sorry, I don't remember this ever happening."

"You don't?" He asked, in surprise, "It was the morning when I bought you the apology coffee from the cafe in the lobby?"

"THAT day?" I repeated, "Why that day?"

Soonyoung shrugged, pulled away but grabbed my hand, leading me towards the back of the house. "I think it was the day when I knew you were fully committed to the job and to me. It was refreshing and wonderful to know that I had someone so close who was on my side all the time. At least during the business hours."

We reached the living room and he sat us down.

"And to think, I barely remember that day." I thought back to the day, "Except for the coffee and Alissa's hospitalization, that day is blurred with the rest."

He chuckled, "Doesn't matter much now though."

"I should get going." I said, standing back up, "It's late and you should also be getting some sleep, especially after the wine you consumed."

Soonyoung looked up at me, lips pouted, "Why don't you stay here for tonight?"

I smiled, "Two reasons: 1. I don't have a change of clothes with me and I don't particularly want to show up to work tomorrow in today's clothes. 2. Why would I stay the night at a guy's house when he hasn't even taken me out to dinner yet?"

He opened his mouth to retort but quickly realized I had valid points.

"I win." I stated happily, "I'll show myself out and you get some sleep, mister." I playfully scold him.

"And if I take you out to dinner?" He called out after me.

I laughed, "Then we'll see!"

"Free your schedule for Friday night." Soonyoung basically demanded, "And I mean it, no 'gotta go back to the company' excuses. I'm taking you out on Friday night."

I turned around and waved a hand above my head, "It's a date!"

As I walked away, I heard Soonyoung whisper a very excited 'yessss' to himself and it brought a smile to my face.

I took a deep breath once outside the front door. I didn't know what I would find on this journey but one thing was for sure: Soonyoung wouldn't stop caring for me or making me laugh.

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #hoshi #kwon hoshi #hoshi imagine #kwon hoshi imagine #soonyoung #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung imagine #kwon soonyoung imagine #seventeen hoshi imagine #seventeen soonyoung imagine

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wizardouxie · 4 years ago

Note

Evil Douxie AU Ash Dispersal Pattern is something I Have Not been able to stop thinking about. Just, whoever the leader is, seeing this moping emo kid working in a cafe and being like “ah. New recruit.” Douxie gets dragged along to a meeting somehow (cough Archie gently bullies him into going cough) and he picks up the guitar. For the first little while he’s grouchy and adamantly refuses to be pleasant or even civil. After he meets the old lady, his jabs start to get more friendly and 1/2

teasing and the band notices and responds in turn, until you eventually get an exchange like this: “aw, you know you love us” “...” “YOU DIDNT DENY IT” “waIT NO SHUT UP” “YOU LOVE US” etc etc and just,,, this group of college kids forcibly adopting Douxie makes me soft. How accurate would you say this is to your AU?? -M.H. Anon 2/2

VERY ACCURATE.

[ DISCLAIMER: This is... very very long. That’s all. ]

Ash Dispersal Pattern took a hard hit this year, losing their guitarist in a nasty fight after a gig. Because of that, they were forced to opt out from the Battle of the Bands. Of course then the end of the world happened three times, which also sucked.

But you know, life is too short so might as well say ‘screw it’ and find a new member right? The member that left can eat dirt for all they cared now. And so they put up flyers calling for auditions as a guitarist.

...no one shows up.

Okay so they gotta figure out a new plan. And what better place to do so than in a cafe? So here they are trying to figure out how to get a guitarist. Douxie shows up with their drinks and one of them goes “ayo what’s up!” only to receive a “tch” in response. They’re confused.

“Yo what’s his problem?”

“He’s probably having a rough day, maybe family issues?”

“I dunno man, but his hair looks sick as hell,”

And then it clicks to them. Maybe... him?

And now Douxie is surrounded by strangers that vaguely look around his age, well roughly give or take a few centuries, and he’s biting his tongue.

“I said no.” he replies firmly, backing away. He slings his jacket over his shoulder and eyes a stray black cat curled up nearby before heading on his way. Weirdos. A discussion immediately blows up among the members.

“Are you sure you wanna go with this guy? We’ve had our share of jerk guitarists,”

“Okay but can we talk about his hair? It’s so cool, I bet he has tattoos too,”

“Enough about the hair! Look this kid’s tryna play tough guy with us, but I think we can soften him up, it’ll just take some time.”

“Aight you’re the boss here, but if he screws us over, you’re taking responsibility,”

Archie overhears the conversation and smiles. These children seemed kind, and Douxie could use some normal friends. Nothing against the Arcadia gang, but they have more than enough on their plate and he can’t exactly force them to integrate the ex sorcerer into their friend group.

Douxie hates the idea. It’s stupid.

“You’ve already signed me up for two jobs and school. I don’t even need school! I have centuries worth of knowledge these mortals can’t even dream of knowing,”

“Yes, but we are trying to blend in, Douxie. And besides, I remember you used to play the lute. The guitar is quite similar I believe,”

“Arch I haven’t touched that instrument for god knows how long,”

“Have you forgotten how to play it then?”

Douxie goes quiet. Archie smiles. Well that makes his job much, much easier. He readjusts his glasses.

“I overheard their next meeting is this Thursday, and you’re going. Isn’t that convenient? You don’t work any shifts on that day. It’ll be good for you,”

“That’s what you say about everything!”

“Have I ever been wrong?”

Silence again. So Archie may have developed a talent for shutting up his familiar. He doesn’t really know if that’s a good thing, but it’s definitely frequent.

Thursday rolls in and Douxie shows up to rehearsal grudgingly. The members are surprised. He tells them not to get cozy; just wanted to try something new out. Luckily for him, the members had a backup guitar. The strings feel strange against his calloused hands but also familiar in a way. He strums a chord and a chorus of “ooooo”s fill the room.

“What? I’m competent,” he snaps. The leader raises her hand.

“Didn’t imply you weren’t.”

And so the first few weeks pass by without much conversation. Rehearsals weren’t so bad on the musical aspect; Douxie could play the guitar pretty effortlessly, much to their astonishment. They regularly complimented him even when he did things his own way rather than follow the sheet music. They rarely ever got a response though. Maybe a “hm” if they’re lucky.

Stage presence on the other hand... he was too stiff and lacked energy. Not to mention he constantly looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. This was where the others started to get slightly ticked off.

“He’s sucking the life out of us dude, like we’re Ash Dispersal Pattern and he’s the freaking vacuum!” the drummer complained

“He doesn’t even sing with us! It’s supposed to be a group effort,” the bass player added.

“Yeah... honestly playing without a guitarist seems better than this,” the vocalist muttered quietly. Everyone looked at them and then the leader.

The leader pinches her nose. So that’s what they all thought huh? And as much as majority would usually win, this wasn’t what she wanted, to lose someone at such an early stage. What they’ve got going is not bad; it just could be better.

“Look, I get it, we’ve had a hard year and him being difficult doesn’t help us. But don’t you think he’s having it hard too? And we’ve all been there before. We’ve had our fights with parents, schools, society and he’s clearly going through it. Right now our best course of action is to just let it pass and let him approach us instead of coming on too strong.”

“Ah so that’s why we chose you as the leader,” the bass player jokes. The leader rolls her eyes.

“Can it, buttsnack.”

Miracles start occurring after the introduction of the little old lady. Douxie no longer keeps on a straight face. Rather, his eyes wonder curiously, mouth forming expressions that he’s not even conscious of. One day the drummer catches him... pouting. Now that’s an expression he didn’t think he’d get to see.

“You okay there, Hisirdoux? Something get you down?”

“The stairs,” he jokes halfheartedly.

He gets startled when he hears the drumsticks rattle against the floor. The drummer is running upstairs, yelling. And then he comes back dragging the leader who’s looking at him with concern.

“Yo Hisirdoux my dude, tell her what you told me!”

“He asked me if something got me down. I said the stairs. Thought it was funny,” the guitarist shrugs. The leader snorts.

“That’s the best you can do?” she comments smiling. Douxie returns the smile much to her surprise.

“Of course not, but do you deserve my best?” The drummer’s jaw drops. Oh snap. The leader on the other hand is very pleased. This is what she’s looking for.

Suddenly Douxie’s phone rings. He picks up while the others listen curiously. His face breaks out into a huge grin. It’s the little old lady.

“Hello love, I’ll pick you up in ten minutes, sound good? Just finishing up rehearsal,” he says softly.

The drummer wiggled his eyebrows at the leader.

“Ooooo we got a lovebird in the band!”

Douxie chokes.

“Are you okay Douxie?”

“Yeah, yeah, something came up but I’ll be there okay!” He ends the call promptly and shakes his head furiously.

“Aww Douxie’s such a cute name, why can’t we call you that?”

“FIRST OF ALL SHE IS NOT, ahem, she is not my girlfriend. That would be awkward because she is um, sixty to seventy years old,”

He doesn’t tell them that technically he is 919. The leader meanwhile, looks pointedly at the drummer who is slowly shrinking in his spot. Whoops. Bad call. Douxie looks at the clock. 5:20 pm. He starts packing up, slinging the guitar backpack over his shoulder.

But before he leaves, he surprises them one more time.

“You guys can call me Douxie or Doux too, by the way. The name is growing on me.”

Rehearsals are so much better after that. Douxie’s smiling and talking to them, performing much more animatedly and giving it his all. He still kinda jabs at them, but there’s no tension behind it.

Nowadays he practices at home instead of waiting for rehearsal. It’s a little hard to fit time what with schoolwork and shifts, but he makes it happen. Archie stares at him fondly. This was the life that Douxie needed. One with a balance between honest work and fun.

One day, Douxie brings in some takeout from the bistro. A little celebratory gift because Ash Dispersal Pattern finally got a successful gig after so long. They open up all the boxes, set out plates, napkins flying all over the place. It’s loud, chaotic, a little dirty, but it doesn’t matter to Douxie because he’s with his friends.

Wait.

“Dang Doux, you didn’t have to do all this but you did anyways. I bet you love us. don’t you?” the vocalist teased.

Douxie remains quiet. Friends. As in, people he really cares about and looks forward to spending time with. People who he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with. People who he --

“--LOVES US SHUT UP OH MY GOD!” the drummer yells, taking him back to reality. He looks at them with a smile and a shrug and suddenly he’s being attacked with hugs. They’re all screaming about how he’s always been soft and loved them from the start.

And then he’s crying. Everyone starts to panic and they’re scrambling off of him, asking him if he’s okay, if what they did was too much or anything like that. He shakes his head, trying to wipe his tears. It’s just... he’s never been held like this by so many people and for so long. He was so touch starved that he didn’t know what to do with this much love and appreciation. Quite frankly it’s been so long since it felt like he was truly wanted.

He tells them it’s okay, really, he was just a little overwhelmed. But now the craving for their touch is so much stronger.

“Can you hold me again like that? Just for a bit? It was nice,” he asks timidly and they nod eagerly. Within ten minutes, they fall asleep in each other’s arms. Archie quietly pulls a blanket over them and sleeps on Douxie’s lap.

His work here is done.

#this is so long omg #but i promise it's very cute #toa #tales of arcadia #toa wizards #tales of arcadia wizards #wizards #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux #douxie #archie #M.H anonnie #evil douxie

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coolpolarbear123 · 3 years ago

Text

Band Camp Day 3

"we can either be the picconets or the clarilos." "The picc-a-nut?" "clarilo it is"

August 17th, 2021

<< 3 >>

forgive me if this is short:

4 hours of sleep later, we're heading to the field with literal mugs of coffee in hand to start the senior prank

the prank today: hanging underwear on the band director's podium

it's a tradition. I've probably mentioned it in past posts

at 8:30, we start, I'm more anxious than ever bc of all the drama

practice, fundamentals, the works

ML2 doesn't clap for the DI's and it freaks me out bc I know it's bc she hates that I have it

I've literally been texting the picc drum major (her roommate) about it all of band camp

my marching today??? absolutely awful. I could barely pay attention or anything

it's ML2's bday!! so I have been trying to mention it a lot and get her recognition so that maybe she's not as angry at me

We got put in a temporary band block yesterday and it's??? terrible? I'd like for the temporary part to end bc we're still using it

today I did a lot of messing up, and I feel really bad and gross about it

there's been this issue that when we do stuff in our big band block, someone in the middle will mess up, and by the time it gets to the ends of the block (us, the piccs), it's a huge mess, and we get blamed

this happened and our DM (the other one, the one who plays alto) was like "I know when I'm wrong" and we were scrambling to figure out where we were supposed to be

lunch!

people from random sections have been eating with us. This is fine, but?? it seems really early. Do you guys even know your own sections?

full band rehearsal! it was uneventful

our first playing sectionals! we stickered our nametags, then played through a lot of songs

we actually did really well, which is probably because we're mostly returners (re: one freshman)

and!! we were worried that our SL was gonna be super nitpicky and she's not! she's super reasonable!

back to full band rehearsal. Our band director made us watch a bunch of videos?? like they were sorta related to what we were doing but eh

I've been doing a lot of exchanging glances with the alto drum major. Mostly about ML2

we also?? have to move section bonding? which usually happens on Thursday night? I told our section leader that she needs to take that day off from her CA stuff, but she didn't, and now she works that night. Finding a replacement was aggravating, and we chose an hour and a half window on Sunday

that's not enough time, and it's... mediocre at best, really

it doesn't leave much space for fun things

dinner! the other librarian staff person is very well known for making really weird food combos that are super gross, and she is on a roll this week, lemme tell ya

a couple days ago it was coffee and chicken, there was cake and meat sauce at one point, etc

"If I can eat it, it's not a dog"

after dinner was more marching

our band director said he was writing pregame drill tonight, which means us drill librarian staff will have our hands full in the morning

did i mention the IMMENSE AMOUNT OF ANXIETY i have about being leadership bc of certain other members in the section?

it's so bad that our section leader had to give us the "don't talk about other members behind their back" speech

we did our singing at the end, and the 5th years led. One of my best friends is a 5th year, and there's only, like, 5 total, and it was really cute

very last of the real ones

and then we flash mobbed the hey song to scare the freshmen, like we do every year, even though we usually do it in the band room

our freshman caught on to the movements fairly well

the night activity was the scavenger hunt!

on the drive to the main part of campus, i asked if we are still doing the "not last" chant, and ML2 was like "I think the other sections get annoyed at it"

I texted our DM bc I was sad that we're retiring the chant

we get out of the car and the piccs aren't sitting in their usual spot which is like the icing on the cake for my stress rn

and then my SL comes up to me and is like "I'm gonna start the chant" "did [DM] talk to you?" "yeah, and I wanna do it" "let's just... wait and see"

but then later, one of the piccs started it, so at least we chanted it and I'm not the only one who cares

the clarinets only had one returner show up (one of my really good friends), so they requested to combine with a different section, and the piccolos all raised their hands up after a moment and shouted "PICCOLOS" so they joined us!

it was sorta scary bc that's a lot of people? we had all 10 of us, and there was a good amount of them, and we only have 15 minutes to run around and do things

but literally no one else wanted them (one of the clarinet freshmen even begged the drumline to take them) and we're friends with them, so

the scavenger hunt began, and SL did an amazing job of leading. I got to help with it! i called out prompts

and DANG were we efficient

we werent even late to getting back

usually while the scores are being calculated, we dick around, and every section did plenty of that, including us, but it was kinda awkward bc the senior piccs wanted no part of it

i was upset bc why can't we just,,, not separate ourselves like that. Why do we have to be different and extra and not social

I stayed with the seniors bc I was more scared of leaving them, but I was annoyed

after scores were calculated and we were all standing together, I went around and said "reminder! all we want is not last" and I get back to my place where I was standing to hear the seniors just like "idc what we get, I just wanna go home"

cool thanks

but we didn't get last!! and we did sorta scream bc that's huge!

last place had 41 points

AND THEN WE DIDN'T GET SECOND TO LAST

YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE LOOKS ON OUR FACES

but then we

DIDN'T GET THIRD TO LAST EITHER

at this point we're holding our breath, not screaming, just giving each other Looks

how well did we do? we had such a big section

fast forward to them announcing fourth place, and that wasn't us either, we were all whispering about how we ranked. No matter what, we were first, second, or third, and that's like getting a medal

and we weren't third

"first place had significantly more photos"

that kinda where we all accepted that we got second

and WE FUCKING WON WITH 81 POINTS

WON

WE WON MY FRESHMAN YEAR AND NOW MY SENIOR YEAR

THAT'S H U G E

piccolos don't win things

we don't even know the clarinets

we called ourselves the clarilos

we're so fckn stoked about our win, guys, it hasn't even set in, really

NOT LAST NOT LAST NOT LAST

#I fell asleep while writing this last night #so lets see if I can catch up and write two tonight #band #band camp #marching band #cbc #2k21 bc adventures #rant #cpb speaks

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seriestrash · 4 years ago

Text

The Summer of ‘95 - Part Two

|| PART ONE ||

Summary: In the summer of 1995, Sunset Curve were trying to make a name for themselves. The band was always close but that summer they forged an unbreakable bond. Whilst the whole band strengthened their existing connection, Alex and Luke find themselves lighting a different spark.

A little love life before the afterlife.

Part Two: The Summer of Sunset Curve

Word Count: 5,500

- read on ao3 -

☀ ☀ ☀

Alex spent the next four nights at Luke’s house before it started to get suspicious that he didn’t really have an answer to when his parents would be home from their trip. Alex then stayed at Reggie’s house for nearly a week. Reggie knew that Alex had a fight with his parents but he didn’t know what they really fought about. Alex appreciated Reggie letting him stay because he knew Reggie felt awkward about having his friends over sometimes because his parents fought so often. Once Alex felt like he wore out his welcome at Reggie’s, he turned to Bobby after rehearsals.

“My dad is going out of town tomorrow with his new girlfriend. He’ll be gone for a week. You can all crash here,” Bobby opens the invitation to everyone but he turns to Alex and carefully says, “But is everything okay, Alex? You haven’t been home in nearly two weeks.” Reggie’s interest pricks up, he opened his doors without question but he was a little concerned there was something deeper going on with Alex.

"You know how our parents get about playing music too loud in the house,” Luke jumps in, “They don’t take our music seriously. It can make for a tense home life sometimes.”

Bobby and Reggie exchange a look, they both knew first hand that what Luke was saying made sense but it still didn’t add up for them. They both also thought Luke knew more than them.

Alex gets up from behind his drums and moves closer to his bandmates. Alex nervously clutches at his drumsticks, his palms growing increasingly sweaty around them.

“The real reason I can’t go home is-“

“Alex, are you sure?” Luke asks and it wasn’t because he thought Reggie or Bobby would react poorly, it was because he saw how tormented Alex was that night at his house and he didn’t want to have to see his friend feel that way again.

Alex nods. “I can’t go home because my parents don’t want me there- Or at least they don’t want me there if I choose to be who I am.”

“It’s not a choice.” Luke says.

“I know.” Alex nods, “But they don’t understand why I can’t choose to ignore it.”

“I don’t understand?” Reggie looks to a very quiet Bobby and back to Alex, “Luke obviously knows more than us, Alex, what is going on?”

“I told my mom I’m gay,” Alex manages to say although he can’t hold eye contact with anyone in the room, not even Luke. “She did not like that very much,” He says almost jokingly in an attempt to make sharing it easier, “She told my dad and he liked it even less.” Alex shrugs his shoulders lightly, “So ‘gay Alex’ isn’t really welcome home at the moment.”

Alex finally looks up, he sees Luke looking upset but somewhat proud of Alex for opening up. Bobby was quiet and hard to read but he was always like that. Alex was about to turn and gauge Reggie’s reaction but he’s engulfed in a hug before he gets the chance. Alex stumbled back a step as Reggie wraps his arms around him tightly.

“You’re not gay Alex.” Reggie rests his head into his friend.

“Yes I am?” Alex is confused.

“No, I mean you’re just Alex.” Reggie continues to embrace the blonde, “I’m sorry your parents think that being gay changes that.”

Alex’s tense body sinks into the hug, he lifts his arms up and returns the embrace. He really needed that. Luke watches Alex feel at ease in the hug and the lead singer was was mad at himself for not giving Alex a hug that night in his room when he first found out. Luke jumps in and joins his friends. Alex looks at Bobby who’s smiling at them all.

“You’re quiet.” Alex states. “I know this would be weird for a lot of guys. I get if you’re not one hundred percent cool with it.” Their group hug breaks, Alex was in the middle with an arm around each of his friends. All three gazes pointed at Bobby now.

“I’m one hundred percent cool, always.” Bobby smirks.

“You don’t seem that surprised?” Alex pricks up a brow.

“I’ve always thought you might be gay since I met you, your freshman year.” Bobby admits.

“You did?” Reggie and Luke say in unison as the thought had never crossed either of their minds.

“You didn’t say anything.” Alex states.

“I could have been wrong or maybe you hadn’t figured it out for yourself but either way it wasn’t my place to say anything until you did.” Bobby explains. “But I am glad you finally said something.”

“Me too,” Alex lets out big sigh of relief, “You honestly have no idea.”

“Aw, guys,” Reggie coos, “Get in here, Bobby, group hug.”

Bobby jokingly is reluctant to join but he does and Sunset Curve share an important bonding moment.

That day at rehearsals brought the four friends closer together. They all stayed at Bobby’s that night and they stay awake into the early hours of the morning being uncharacteristically open with one another. Before it was as if there was this pressure on them as teen boys to uphold a cool rock image for their band. It was like they had to carry on with an ‘I don’t care attitude’ when really they were just kids dealing with a lot in their personal lives.

Reggie opens up about his parents fighting about money all the time even though they had plenty of it and lived in a nice house on the beach.

Bobby talks about his mom walking out a few years ago and how his dad was always so cold with him.

Luke talks about his struggles with his parents, specifically his mom and how much it hurts that she doesn’t appreciate his passion for music and this band and although things were relatively okay between them now, he couldn’t help but feel like there will come a day when he has to choose between music and his family.

Alex had already shared his truth but he mentioned his dad’s birthday was coming up and he already bought his gift. Luke argued he didn’t deserve it but Alex still felt like he was being a bad son.

All four band members talked about their troubled home lives and not a whisper of judgement was passed between them.

“No matter what happens at home, we always have a family we can depend on, right here.” Luke states.

They had been a band for nearly three years now but that night they forged a connection far deeper than bandmates, they had found a family.

The four teens go on to map out their plans for the future and share ideas for their summer of putting Sunset Curve on the map.

The group slept into the late afternoon as they only went to sleep just as the sun was coming up but they wasted no time implementing their plan. The boys head down to the pier and play until sunset. Passerby's stopping to listen and leave their spare change.

They continued to do this everyday for a week, they’d spend the entire day on the pier playing their songs. It seemed as if they drew more attention as the days went on.

Prior to this summer they had already saved money and made their demo, now they were putting any money they could towards band shirts and flyers; anything to get their name out.

After a week, the band up their game and set up out the front of a popular club, they play four songs before they get chased away by security. The next night they come back and play in the alley out back of the same club.

They were drawing real attention to themselves. Their plan seemed to be working.

Alex eventually went home too. He left the present he bought his dad on their front doorstep the morning of his birthday. That day his parents showed up at the pier and asked him to come home. The band was a bit dubious about it but his parents seemed sorry and wanted Alex to return home.

Although Alex’s parents wanted him home they were still clearly not okay with him being gay but instead of shouting at him like they did that night, they completely ignore it. It was as if he never came out to them.

This might have made things easier for Alex, not having to find an excuse to tell his friends parents as to why he’s crashing at their house for an extended period of time but it stirred up some of Alex’s internalised hatred for himself. Some of the heaviness returned to Alex, he was good at hiding it but those closest to him - his bandmates - they could see it was eating away at Alex.

Luke wanted to say something to Alex but he also didn’t want to make it worse. At least there was the plan to keep Alex’s mind off things. Luke found some comfort in knowing Alex only really went home for a couple of nights a week to sleep and the rest of the blondes time was spent with him and the band. The most time Alex had to endure with his parents was family dinner on a Thursday night but even then - all Luke could picture was David and Mary’s disapproving glances at Alex whist he sadly pushes around his food with a fork. Even with the sad scene playing over in Luke’s mind more often than it should, the lead singer knew it was ultimately Alex’s decision to go home and he had to respect it.

Whilst the band was heavily focused on their plan to get their name out there, they did find a moment every now and then to be teens enjoying their summer. One day they go to a dodgy local movie theatre and watch a horror movie that no one but Bobby wanted to see.

Reggie kept throwing popcorn into the air with every jump scare and Bobby chuckled loudly every time. Alex anxiously grips at the arm rest between him and Luke the whole movie whilst Luke pretends like he isn’t quietly hyperventilating. His nonchalant attitude is foiled when there’s a loud crash on screen and Luke ends up grabbing Alex’s hand in his. Truthfully, Alex had practically jumped into Luke’s seat too but it was Luke that reached for the drummer. The pair exchange nervous smiles that can only just be made out in the dark theatre. Luke lets his friends hand go and folds his arms close to his chest whilst Alex leans towards the arm rest on his other side.

After the movie ended, the two boys were still shy around each other. Prior to the movie beginning, Luke had been joking about having to curl up and hide behind Alex if he was scared but actually reaching for his friend instinctually was another thing.

All the band were comfortable around each other, they never shied away from an arm around one another or a head rest on ones shoulder. They each adopted a tactile nature after meeting Luke, he was the most touchy feely of them all. He constantly gave his friends a pat on the back, an arm squeeze - anything, Luke had always been very affectionate with the people in his life without realising it. He wasn’t necessarily a hugger or clinging to people all the time but he did physically reach out for people.

So a handhold in a frightful moment would be something Luke could easily laugh off but he felt uncharacteristically bashful about it. Luke worried Alex might think he was being weird because he’s gay.

Luke tries to prove he was still cool with everything and over compensates by jokingly making Reggie hold his hand to cross the road out front of the movie theatre to which Reggie lets go in disgust because of Luke’s ‘uniquely slimy palms’ as Reggie put it, wiping his hand on the flannel shirt tied around his waist.

“You don’t have to be so mean.” Luke pouts as he wipes his hands on the sleeves of his t-shirt.

Bobby chuckles but Alex still remains quiet. Luke turns to the drummer and holds out his hand. “They’re not that bad are they?”

Alex crinkles his nose. “I don’t want to touch your uniquely slimy palms.”

Luke pretends to be offended and wipes his hand down Alex’s arm playfully after the blonde failed to dodge the singers advances. They all laugh about the games and the pair manage to quietly put the hand hold behind them.

“So what are we doing tonight boys?” Luke asks once their laughter fade out. “Another club ambush?”

“I can’t,” Reggie frowns, “My parents need me home to go over the ground rules before they go out of town for their business trip.”

“I’m out too.” Bobby shrugs, “I have a date.”

“How do you have time to meet girls?” Reggies asks, “You’ve spent all summer with us.”

“Maybe you should pay more attention to who’s watching us down at the pier and you’ll get your first kiss.” Bobby pinches Reggie’s cheek.

“I’ve kissed a lot of girls.” Reggie swats the older boys hand away.

“Two.” Luke highlights.

“Two is a lot.” Reggie defends himself. “And I kissed one of them multiple times.”

“Anyway,” Luke turns to Alex but he was still laughing at Reggie, “You and me?”

“It’s Thursday.” Alex says solemnly.

Luke lets out a groan, “Can’t you skip family dinner?”

“Things are still weird, I don’t want to make them worse.” Alex shakes his head.

“Can I come?” Luke asks.

Alex knew the idea was horrible because it felt like his home life could fall apart over a sneeze but for some reason he agrees to have Luke come over for dinner.

Luke had been to Alex’s house plenty of times before but this time it felt different, it didn’t feel like picture perfect life anymore. Although Alex’s parents were doing an award worthy performance of pretending like things were normal, Luke could tell he wasn’t welcome or at least an inconvenience.

There is an awkward tension at dinner. Mary asks about the movie they went and saw and she wears a pretty smile as she asks questions. Then David brings up a girl Luke was seeing.

“Oh we broke up months ago.” Luke explains.

“That’s a shame,” David says, “She seemed like one of the good ones.”

“She didn’t like our band too much so the relationship was ultimately doomed.” Luke shrugs. The girl was nice enough but he didn’t suffer any heartache when they broke up.

“I remember when I was your age,” David continues, “I fell in love with just about every girl I laid my eyes on.”

“Meanwhile I was shy and hoping you would notice me.” Mary adds.

“I was stupid and young. I couldn’t see what was right in front of my eyes.” David reaches across the table and rests his hand over his wife’s. “At that age nobody really knows what they want.”

Luke can see David’s stare pointed directly at his son whilst Alex avoids anyones gaze and pokes at his food. Luke was watching the sad scene he played over in his head come to life. The lead singer didn’t know what to do in that moment, he wanted to yell at Alex’s parents for treating him so poorly but he didn’t want to upset his friend so all Luke does say is, “Maybe not,” he reaches for the blondes hand under the table and continues, “But I think we have a pretty good understanding of what we don’t want.”

Alex smiles at his friends comforting hand hold below the table, the movie theatre might have been an awkward knee-jerk reaction but this was a thoughtful gesture, one Alex appreciated greatly and it seemed as though Luke’s comment had silenced David.

Luke ends up staying the night even though David offered to drive him home multiple times. Luke would be lying if he didn’t admit that watching David feel uncomfortable over his friendship with Alex gave him a spark of joy.

Although Alex seemed to be appreciative of the supportive handhold at dinner, once they were in his room, Alex seemed off.

“Did I say something wrong at dinner?” Luke asks.

“I just wish you wouldn’t wind him up.” Alex says with a slight shrug of his shoulder.

“I’m only trying to stick up for you, Alex.” Luke defends, “And I was barely even doing that because I didn’t want to upset things for you even more.”

“Forget I said anything.” Alex mumbles.

Luke didn’t like that it felt like Alex was mad at him, even if he knew it was just misplaced anger he felt about his non accepting parents.

“Hey, do you want to sneak out to the park like we used to back in middle school?” Luke gently smacks Alex’s shoulder.

“No, I kinda want to go to bed.” Alex states.

Luke’s watch reads 8:30 PM but he didn’t want to push Alex. When the blonde starts setting up the sofa in his room to sleep on Luke furrows his brows.

“Seriously?” Luke questions as he’s sat on Luke’s bed that’s big enough for the two of them - in fact they had both slept in their together multiple times before.

“It’s a hot night.” Alex plays it cool, “I don’t want your uniquely slimy skin anywhere near me.”

Luke was too annoyed at how Alex was acting to joke along. “Fine,” he huffs, “You take the cramped sofa then.” He throws a pillow that hits Alex in the back.

“I was gonna.” Alex turns around with a frown but Luke was already laying down and facing the other way.

Once they settle in for the night Luke lay awake in Alex’s bed waiting for his friend to open up about how tonight made him feel but he was met with an extended silence.

The following day the pair meet up with Reggie and Bobby. Alex’s off attitude dissipates and Luke chalks that up to him not being around his parents anymore but things still didn’t sit right with Luke.

Luke manages to convince Reggie to throw a party at his house that night whilst his parents are out of town. Luke sells it as an impromptu gig they can do to drum up more buzz about their band. Reggie was reluctant at first but inevitably agrees, Luke was very convincing.

That day they set up at the pier and played like they had most days that summer. They give out Reggie’s address to anyone who would listen. The girl Bobby went on a date with made an appearance with a couple of her friends. They were briefly introduced to the rest of the band, they each seemed to know each band members name already which fanned their egos a little, or at least gave them some hope that what their plan this summer was working.

That afternoon they cut their time on the pier shorter than usual so they could set up Reggie’s place. Reggie takes all his parents valuables and locks them inside the bedrooms. They set up their stage area in the living room and wait for people to arrive.

At first only a few people turned up but things quickly got out of hand. Reggie’s house was packed with people and they weren’t due to play their set for another hour.

The group of girls from the pier show up. Bobby peels off with his date and leaves Alex and Luke standing there with the girls two friends. Reggie was off in the party trying to make sure no damage was made to his parents house.

“I, uh, am thirsty.” Alex shifts awkwardly on his feet as he makes eye contact with a brunette smiling directly at him. “I’m going to get a drink.”

“I could go for a drink.” She playfully sways in place.

“I’ll bring it back.” Alex laughs nervously and quickly makes an escape.

“Is he shy around girls or something?” The brunette asks.

“I guess you could say that.” Luke scrunches up his face with a cute little shrug.

“Which way is the kitchen?” She asks. Luke points her in the wrong direction hoping she wouldn’t find Alex and put him through advances he wasn’t interested in.

Now left alone with a cute redhead Luke grows nervous himself.

“Chloe right?” Luke asks and she nods. “So, do you live around here?”

“Abby, the one chasing after Alex is my cousin.” She explains, “I’m just staying with her for the summer.”

“Cool.” Is all Luke can come up with. “So, I’m going to check everything is set up and good to go for the gig.”

“Can you show me?” She grabs at Luke’s elbow and he had the urge to wriggle free but he didn’t.

“Sure, why not?” Luke shrugs and takes her over to their set up where he goes on to ramble about this summer and his band whilst letting Chloe get very little word in.

Luke eventually strays from talking about the band and just starts talking about his friends in general. Luke’s halfway through telling Chloe about sneaking out of his house last week with Alex to go get milkshakes at 2am from a 24hr diner.

He trails off mid sentence when he notices the blonde across the room talking with a guy Luke didn’t recognise.

“Was that it?” Chloe calls for his attention.

“Was what it?” Luke furrows his brows.

“You went and got milkshakes at 2am,” Chloe laughs, “You said it was a crazy story, did you get caught or something?”

“Alex nearly took a bite of some pie with walnuts in it, he’s allergic.” Luke lets out a single laugh, “I guess maybe it was a had to be there moment?”

Chloe still giggles softly, “You’re funny.”

For the first time since meeting her, Luke actually paid attention to this girl. He had only really processed her red hair because it was bright and long. But now Luke was noticing her button nose, light freckles and her big green eyes that were striking and hard to miss, it made Luke feel like a jerk for not paying more attention.

“Are you nervous about performing tonight?” She asks.

“No,” Luke answers honestly. “Maybe if I was alone but I’m only ever excited to perform with the guys.”

“I wish I was musically inclined.” Chloe says but again Luke’s attention had wandered, his gaze drifts back over to Alex, he’s still over with the guy Luke doesn’t know and the two seem to be laughing about something.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Luke announces, “I’ll be back.” Chloe just nods as Luke gets up.

The lead singer walks over to Alex and puts an arm around his shoulder. “We’ll be getting ready to go on soon.”

“I know,” Alex still half in a fit of laughter looks to his friend, “Have you met Chris?”

“No,” Luke shakes his head as he looks at the stranger.

“This is Chris,” He introduces, “He works at the ice-cream truck on the pier.”

“Oh, cool.” Luke says half heartedly.

“And you are?” Chris asks.

“Luke. The lead singer of the band performing tonight.” Luke says wildly offended.

“Sorry man,” Chris laughs, “I can only really see Alex play from where the truck is set up on the pier.”

“Are you ready to set up?” Luke asks Alex practically ignoring Chris.

“We already set up, we’re not playing for half an hour.” Alex tries to give a look to Luke as if to ask why he’s being so weird.

“I want to have a band meeting first.” Luke insists, “Go over the set list.”

“We are performing three songs, I think everyone has it down.” Alex laughs and Chris joins in which annoys Luke even more.

“Fine.” Luke huffs. “I’m only thinking about the future for Sunset Curve.”

“I’ll go okay,” Alex looks even more confused by Luke’s behaviour. “Sorry, Chris but duty calls.”

“Who am I to stand in the way of future rock royalty.” Chris holds up his palms and Alex chuckles.

“See you after the show.” Alex smiles and Luke practically has to drag the drummer away.

“What was all that about?” Alex turns to Luke with a perplexed expression.

“I told you, tonight is important.” Luke acts casual. “You’re getting distracted.”

“You were talking with Cleo.” Alex points out.

“Chloe and it was about the band.” Luke states.

“I was talking to Chris about the band too.” Alex wasn’t liking Luke’s attitude. “And so what if I wasn’t? I was getting a bit of a vibe and forgive me for wanting to explore that.”

“A bit of a rude vibe.” Luke scoffs.

“He was the one being rude?” Alex has an accusatory tone.

Before their conversation went any further Reggie practically tackles them both in a frustrated heap.

“Guys, things are starting to get a little crazy.” He looks panicked. “Maybe we shouldn’t have dropped flyers with my address all over the pier.”

“That was Luke’s brilliant idea.” Alex rolls his eyes.

“Hey at least I’ve not forgotten about what’s important here.” Luke defends himself.

“What does that even mean?” Alex is still not appreciating the shade, “I’ve literally spent everyday this summer working towards the future of Sunset Curve.”

“Maybe you’re just pretending.” Luke folds his arms and Reggie was growing increasingly more confused about what he’s walked up to.

Bobby approaches the group quickly with his guitar in hand and he notices the odd vibe too. “I have no idea what’ going on but there’s some college guys touching all the equipment.”

Reggie’s stress levels soar and he uncharacteristically raises his voice, “Shut the party down, I don’t care if we don’t perform tonight.”

“Come on, Reg, we can’t do that.” Luke pleas, “That’s going to hurt our image if we look flakey.”

“I don’t care.” Reggie states, “My parents were really clear about the rules whilst they were out of town. I’m not even supposed to let you guys stay over much less throw an impromptu gig.”

Before they could say anything their was a bit of a ruckus, some sparks came from the direction of their equipment set up and the power goes out.

“I’m so dead.” Reggie groans into the darkness.

With no power, the party clears out pretty quickly. It turns out one of the college guys messing around with the instruments spilt their drink on some power chords and shorted the whole circuit. Luckily it only fried the outlet and not their equipment. Alex manages to safely turn the power back on at the breaker and the most Reggie would get in trouble for was spilling a drink whilst he watched tv - at least, that’s what he’d tell his parents.

The band help Reggie clean up after all the party goers left and the mood was terrible. Reggie was mad that he agreed to the party in the first place and Alex was mad at Luke for being rude and Luke wasn’t sure why he was mad at Alex but he just knew he was. Bobby on the other hand was straight up confused about what anyone was fighting about before the power went out.

Once the house is somewhat clean Reggie grumpily says, “I’m going to bed, the rest can wait until morning. Sleep wherever you want.”

“Shotgun the sofa.” Bobby jumps over the back of it and plonks down not so gracefully. “You too can share the master where Reggie’s parents get their freak on.”

Both Luke and Alex grumble their disgust in Bobby’s comment but do make their way up to Reggie’s parents room in silence.

The both remain angry at each other as they take the extra cushions off the bed.

“I don’t want to sleep next to the window.” Alex mumbles and Luke rolls his eyes.

Truthfully Luke didn’t care where he slept but he was feeling argumentative. “Why don’t you just sleep on the sofa again?”

“Is that why you’ve been such a jerk to me today?” Alex questions, “Because I slept on the sofa last night?”

“I’m not being a jerk.” Luke defends.

“You kind of are.” Alex frowns.

“You were the one being weird first.” Luke argues, “You acted like you didn’t want me at your house last night.”

“Because I didn’t want you there.” Alex lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Why let me come over then?” Luke questions.

“You’re hard to say no to.” Alex sighs again, “Look at Reggie and this party tonight, he really didn’t want to have it.”

“So I just boss everyone around?” Luke looks offended.

“You know that’s not what I’m saying.” Alex rolls his eyes.

“Then what are you saying?” Luke presses.

“You push sometimes.” Alex shakes his head wanting to drop the subject. He goes over to a chair in the room and sits down his hat and takes the bag off his shoulder.

Luke was very offended by Alex, pushing was something he consciously avoided doing because he knew it made the drummer uncomfortable.

Instead of being understanding or letting things go Luke snips, “Sorry I’m not okay with you pretending to be the perfect family at home.”

Alex had his back to Luke when he said that, Alex takes a moment before he turns around, “You have no idea what I’m going through at the moment.”

“I’m trying to.” Luke stresses. “I thought the whole reason you told your mom about being gay is because you were tired of pretending like that part of you didn’t exist. Why would you want to go home and do just that?”

“Luke, I miss my family.” Alex looks tired.

“But they don’t accept you.” Luke states harshly.

“You have this idealistic notion that we can all run away from home and become rockstars but that’s just a fantasy.”

“You don’t think Sunset Curve is good enough to make it?” Luke asks.

“Of course I believe we do.” Alex affirms, “It’s just not as simple as you make it out to be.”

“Whatever.” Luke rolls his eyes as he gets into bed.

Alex knew it was hard reasoning with Luke when he got in a huffy mood like this so he walks away.

“Now where are you going?” Luke questions.

“I’m going to clear my head on the balcony.” Alex reaches for the glass doors in the room that lead out.

Luke sulks under the covers. Again Luke’s not even really sure what he’s mad about be he was now in a mood. The longer Alex spent outside, the longer Luke had to be alone with his thoughts. He shuffles over to the window side of the bed so when Alex comes in he can sleep where he prefers.

Eventually Alex comes in and quietly and gets in the bed beside Luke, although he doesn’t lay down right away.

“Are you awake?” Alex whispers.

“No.” Luke says with his back to his friend.

“Luke?” Alex playfully nudges his friend.

Luke rolls over and looks at Alex sitting up in bed. “I’m not apologising.”

“I don’t need an apology.” Alex says. “I hate fighting and I don’t even know what we’re fighting about anymore.”

“Me too.” Luke admits. “Maybe I was too pushy about this party tonight and I am sorry if I’m making things harder for you at home.”

“You’re not. It’s just complicated.” Alex weakly smiles, “I wish I could live in your positive ‘everything is going to be okay' dream bubble but it’s not that easy for me.”

“I don’t mean to make it sound like I don’t understand that things are hard for you right now,” Luke is honest, “I’m trying to be a good friend to you this summer. I don’t want you to go home to a family that makes you hate being yourself.”

“You’ve been a good friend to me long before this summer.” Alex’s smile is small and there’s sadness behind it. “Long before you even knew how much I needed you.”

Luke didn’t know how to respond to the nice sentiment so he deflects with humour, “So that’s a hard pass on running away together?”

“Things are good with your parents for once.” Alex shakes his head with a smile.

“I’d keep in touch.” Luke grins, “John Lennon called his aunt every week after The Beatles made it big.”

This makes Alex smile, “How about this?” He shuffles in place, “The day we graduate, I’ll have my bags packed.”

“Deal.” Luke agrees, “But if things get worse sooner than that-“

“I know where to go.” Alex nods.

With the fight behind them the two settle down for the night unaware that the dynamic of their friendship had already began to change.

☀ ☀ ☀

End Notes: Hello!

Thanks so much for reading another chapter in this story! I appreciate if you've come back. This chapter was way longer than I was expecting. I even intended for it to have more but I'm going to put that section in the next chapter.

Please leave a comment with some feedback, anything is greatly appreciated!

#julie and the phantoms #alex x luke #alex and luke backstory #alex x luke as exes #sunset curve #lalex

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whitmanpumpkin · 5 years ago

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falling for bill hader during your snl days would include...

look, it started as this simple little thing about you and bill meeting during his snl days, and then it turned into this and i just...uhm. yeah. it’s not simple and short anymore. enjoy! (and i feel like it goes without being said, but he’s not married in this.)

your lengthy relationship with bill would start somewhere on snl. you were originally an assistant for lorne, which translated to fielding calls for him and ironing out an insanely busy schedule that made you anxious just to look at. oh, and he put you in charge of getting everything set up for wednesday night snl table reads.

the table read, a very “casual” affair made up of comedians and writers in hoodies and jeans, was never meant to be a big hoopla. somehow, though, that’s what it always turned into. before you knew it, there were seventy-plus people packed into this small room on the 17th floor on 30 rock and crowding around a table as the sketch reading for the first episode of season 31 began. with lorne sat next to the week’s host (would you believe – steve carrell), the reading commenced.

you were too busy fretting over making sure everyone was seated and engaged that you missed bill’s introduction. it was a quick “meet our new features,” and a glance over to him and andy sandberg. by the time you glanced over to them? everyone had moved on and were on to the next bit of business; seth myers was halfway into the first page of one of the possible cold open sketches.

it’s after the table read that seth introduces you. he could see how busy you were with making sure lorne had everything running smoothly, but seth was a nice enough guy to know that your week would go smoother if you had a clue who these guys were. so, you shake hands with andy and bill and smile at them before you’re running to catch up with lorne – who’s already halfway down the hall with steve carrell.

over the following months, you would catch glimpses of bill at various rehearsals and table reads, but never really had the time to think about him for more than a fleeting moment. snl was only one of the many things you had to keep an eye on while working for lorne.

okay, it was a really important one to you, the one you kept an eye on the most, but it was just another knot in the rope you had to pull on a daily basis. lorne demands excellence. you knew that from the moment you got the job as his assistant. it was the reason you had applied; if you started as an assistant to lorne, maybe there was a way to get into the dream job of an snl writer someday? and maybe there wasn’t, but at least there seemed to be a shot. but that had been close to two years ago, and while lorne was a nice enough boss, he probably had no clue about your aspirations.

so the months passed in a steady flow.

sometime after midnight on a particularly heavy tuesday/wednesday writing night, you’re leaving lorne’s office when you decide to stop in and see how the writers are doing on the 17th floor.

the season finale was this week, and the pressure was on to find the perfect sketches. as you entered seth’s office, you found him with his back on the ground and his legs against the door, holding a pencil in his teeth. bill sat in what was normally’s seth’s chair and listened to his buddy rattle on about some “baby hitler” sketch they could do.

you hand off their usual coffee and sit down in the corner, providing the comfortable silence you were very much known for on set. bill’s starting to ramble about how the sketch won’t work, and seth’s just humming so bill knows someone is listening. hitting a wall never looked so depressing. but at least you could provide moral support, so you stick around while they work through the rest of the sketch.

and bill makes you laugh. seth does too, but something about bill’s own laugh never fails to send you into a bout of hysterics — especially when you’re exuasted.

it becomes a ritual for you to come in and stick around with them on those nights, and soon enough you were helping them with sketch ideas and jokes.

the first time bill laughs at one of your jokes, you have to fight a racing heart. it’s kind of impossible though, because he’s laughing so hard that he’s slapping his leg and you can’t help but join in — which only makes his worse.

the months pass.

before the end of the season, seth brings up the fact that one of the writers is leaving the show and a position is going to open up. he practically begs you to audition.

so, you do. and it’s a hot june day when you’re standing in front of lorne, more nervous than you’ve ever been. but the moment passes like a blur, and your friends like bill and seth are waiting for you afterwords with praises.

when you get the job as a writer a few days later, you can’t help yourself from crying. you manage to hold it in when lorne comes and tells you himself, but as soon as he leaves you to process the information -- your shaking hands are shooting a text to bill and telling him the good news (as though he didn’t already know from seth).

you two end up getting drinks, and he’s a little drunk as he tells you, “you know you deserve this so much. like you work your ass off.” and then his voice drops to a whisper and you barely hear him when he says “i know you don’t need me to tell you this, but i’m so proud of you, y/n.”

and your heart stops for just a second.

he gives you the goofiest, drunk smile before he turns back to the bartender and makes sure you get another special drink. you’re pretty sure you’re drunk off of something else.

over your first season, you find yourself starting out by writing one (maybe two) sketches a week. and it’s pretty easy to see what they have in common. although kristen is the first to point it out, she’s probably not the only one that knows.

when she poked the hornet’s nest over drinks a few weeks before chirstmas, you‘re quick to backtrack. “no, no.” you hiss at her. “it’s not like that. bill’s just really talented and he can play a lot of characters.” your heart is racing because what if she’s right? what if you do like him like that, and everyone knows now.

kristen rolled her eyes, and you never say anything else on the subject. it doesn’t stop you from writing more sketches and bill being cast as a lead. you get past christmas without any issue. hell, you even get through valentines day and st. patricks day without anymore issues. but then, the jokes start again.

it’s a few weeks away from the easter episode of your first season that you start to panic, because you’re pretty sure bill thinks something is up. so, you do the only rational thing you can — stop using him in sketches. cold turkey.

you’d actually managed to go a couple of weeks without using him in one of your sketches, which had increased to about two or three a week. you thought you were on a pretty good streak, but now easter had come around and seth thought it would be a good idea if the two of your wrote another vincent price holiday special.

when you bring the idea up to bill, he’s not quite sure if it would even work. “a easter special? you really think that could work?” he has that skeptical gleen in his eyes that was common when he pitched his own sketches, but you’d never seen it directed to one of yours. when you try and explain the absurdity of it, he’s still shooing it away. “i don’t know if you want to use me.”

“what are you talking about?” you asked, incrediously. “you’re our vincent price. you have to do it.”

bill hesitated for a second. “i thought you weren’t using me in sketches anymore.” and you swear that you hear a little bit of hurt in his voice, but fred armisen is calling your name before you have the chance to ask him about what he means.

you go on and help seth write the sketch that night, so it’s ready for the wednesday night table read. but bill doesn’t meet your eye when you and seth pitch it, but at least he goes with it and it gets a lot of laughs. lorne approves it and has his new assistant write it out on a note card to use for the lineup.

something’s not right. you can feel this horrid nagging in the pit of your stomach on thursday, which only gets worse when you send bill rewrites and he still won’t meet your eye. you try and talk to him for a few minutes, but he seems to cut off any conversation and you’re too tired of this to try anymore. so, you let him go and don’t know why you’re so close to crying when you shut yourself in to yours and seth’s office.

on friday, you’re starting to get worried.

it’s costume fittings for your sketches, which means you and seth are standing in front of bill in his vincent price costume while he avoids eye contact with you. you could do 24 hours, and even 48 hours without him talking to you. but this was getting to be too much to take, and you couldn’t keep pretending like everything was easy between you two.

when seth asks the costume designer about an addition for fred’s liberache, you pull bill to the side.

“what’s wrong?”

you have to ask. it’s not like you can just keep this charade going.

he tries to wave it away. “nothing. i’m fine.”

but then you’re fighting back because obviously it’s not, and you hate that he won’t talk to you. and he can see the pleading in your eyes. and he really hates himself because bill never wanted you to feel like this. and he just sighs. “it’s stupid.”

“what?”

“it’s really stupid.” he says, like it’s a warning. “i shouldn’t have said that thing about you wanting to use me. i just let my head get the idea that you didn’t like me anymore and didn’t want to put me in your sketches.”

and you’re kind of speechless for a second. you want to say a million different things to him; he looks like he wants to, too. you can only manage to get out, “bill, you know i adore you.”

and you don’t hear how his breath catches in his throat because (of course) seth is calling your name.

the rest of the day passes without another interaction with bill. you see him in the halls on a few occasions and he smiles brightly for you, but it’s not until the end of the night when you catch him waiting for you outside your office. you’d had to stick around and finish up some things with the other writers, so the fact bill waited around sent your heart racing.

leaning against your door, with his hands in his pockets, bill was like a beautiful and tired vision. “you want to go get some coffee downstairs?” he said.

you can’t tell him no.

so, ten minutes later he’s handing you your drink and trying to explain just how much he let his anxety overtake him. you knew it could get bad sometimes, but the thought had never crossed your mind as being the reason he wasn’t talking to you. you listened as he continued on about how much he likes your writing, and how he appreciated that you would keep putting him in your sketches (even though his anxiety wanted to keep him in the background). and “i know everyone jokes about you liking me, and that’s why you write sketches for me, but it wouldn’t matter even if that’s why you did. anyone should be happy to have one of your pieces.”

you feel like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. he just lets his words resonate for a second, and for you to smile back at him, before he’s launching into a story about seth and one of the other writers from earlier this week.

the sketches go off great on saturday, like bill was sure they would, and when you get home somewhere close to 3am after the show, there’s a text waiting for you from bill.

[ See you @ monday’s pitch. You’re going to have another great we eek.]

and he’s right. the last few weeks for the year go off without a hitch. well, without anymore hitches than your used to for snl. as the season closes and the host says goodnight, bill’s the first to give you a big hug while the band plays everyone out. in fact, with his 6’1 stature, he practically lifts you off the ground.

there are the fifteen afterparties and the twenty goodbyes, but you’re finally heading home as you hail a taxi.

“you don’t mind if i share that, do you?” a voice asks from behind. when you turn, bill’s got his hands in his pockets and it’s as though he’s expecting you to tell him no. but how the hell can you do that?

when you two give your addresses and settle in, there’s the obligoutory chat about how you’re going to spend your summers. he was thinking of going back to l.a. you weren’t sure yet — which both of you already knew. but up until this point, bill didn’t follow up with the question, “well — there’s a room open at the place i’m staying in l.a.?”

and that?? well, we’ll leave that for another time.

#look i know you'd be ashamed of me bill but i really don't care anymore #yOULL NEVER SEE THIS AND THIS IS A PIPE DREAM BLOG #bill hader #bill hader imagine #bill hader self insert #bill hader x reader #bill hader x you #bill hader and reader

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thorne93 · 5 years ago

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Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 3)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 3181

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy, @carryonmyswansong, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spence dropped you off at the gate, a rather tearful parting, mostly for you. You two had only been apart for the time Spence was in prison, and that was utter hell. Compared to that, this should be a cakewalk.

Your first week was the hardest. You spent most of it getting acquainted at the school, in the classroom, rehearsing a few of your lectures, meeting other faculty, rereading the textbook you’d chosen. There wasn’t any time to look at the FBI cases you’d been given, let alone trying to find a more permanent residence while you were in town.

The second week, the classes began and you could already feel a rhythm beginning to set in. Some of the students really seemed to be ready and liking the class. Others, you could tell, were stuck with this class. It made no difference to you, as you’d teach the best way you knew how and help anyone who had questions.

The second Saturday night, you dove into the case files. At first, not much had tied them together. Different backgrounds, ages, races, sex. Victimology was all over the place. If these were even victims at all. But they were missing persons, who had never been heard from again, there had to be a reason. Something, or someone, chose these specific people, for whatever purpose. It was your job to figure out why those people.

Over the course of the next few days, nothing struck with you. None of it made any sense. Finally, you caved and talked to Spencer about it.

“So how is the case going? Got it cracked?” Spence questioned.

You let out a heavy sigh before groaning. “Actually, I think I need your help.”

“Oh no, we know it’s a tough one if you need me,” he said with a laugh.

“I just can’t figure this out. Here, let me run the profiles by you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

He listened to you inform him of all of the cases, all their demographics. By the time you were done, you could practically hear him frowning. “That’s really odd. There has to be some kind of common denominator.”

“I know but… nothing.”

“No, no. Let’s look more closely. Do you need Garcia to run their backgrounds? Same high schools? Any familial relations?”

“That’s a good idea,” I murmured. “I’ll do it myself though. I’ll dig as much as I can and if I get lost again, I’ll have her run them through the database and see if any hits show up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I mean, at the very least, they all lived in Miami at the time of their disappearance, so there’s that.”

“It’s a start.”

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

As you dug deeper and deeper though, you found that most of the people had been through Miami Police Department as suspects, arrested, or even a ticket. Somehow, they had a run in with the law. Not all of them had been in trouble, some were actually stand up citizens in the community, or so it seemed. But unsubs don’t just take some people, then switch it up and take the opposite.

So you took it upon yourself to head up the investigation in the Miami police department. You began to question the cyber crimes unit, seeing as some of these people never came in contact with the police, maybe their browsing history did. Maybe they pissed off the wrong person. After a day of questioning the entire unit though, no one fit any loose profile you might have built.

The following day that you only held a morning class, you headed straight to the narcotics department. Maybe some of the well-to-do men and women that had been missing, kidnapped, or killed, whatever their fate was, were involved in some crazy drug ring, but the officer couldn’t get good evidence on them.

However, that was quickly a bust too. Miami and their police had no problem busting drug rings for coke, heroin, and pot. Their detectives seemed open and honest and most of them admitted to knowing some of the missing persons but it would go as far as, “Yeah, I arrested them,” or “Sure, I saw them, I think they were in the station in booking at one point.” Not exactly real motives.

None of this felt right.

Well, you couldn’t do anything about that now. Thursday and Friday were booked solid with classes and a meeting for the psychology professors.

Again, Saturday and Sunday you spent investigating and apartment hunting. Finally, you found a place for the apartment. Economical, good part of town. You didn’t need a lot, a bed and a kitchenette. All the paperwork was settled on Saturday and you were moved in by Sunday afternoon, the files spread all over the floor as you studied them.

Monday came and you had classes starting at noon, but that left your morning open so you got up bright and early and went to the homicides department. That’s when everything started to feel a lot more promising.

“Lieutenant LaGuerta?” you asked, poking your head into an office in the back of this section of the station.

“Yes?” she responded, lifting her head from a pile of papers.

“Hi, I’m Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Y/N Reid of the FBI,” you stated as you walked in and extended your hand. She took it and shook your hand, a frown coming on her face. “I’m here to investigate some missing persons.”

“Oh? Under whose authority?”

“The FBI’s, ma’am. I’ve already conducted some questioning in the other units. This is the last stop on my tour,” you noted with a laugh to which she gave you a somewhat hesitant, forced polite laugh.

“I don’t recall anyone telling me you’d be down.”

“Well, it’s not exactly under the radar, but we aren’t advertising that the FBI is actively investigating,” you explained.

“I see. Don’t you all usually come down only if it’s crossed state lines?”

You couldn’t help but wonder why all the animosity. Sure, cops were territorial, and no one liked anyone coming in and saying, “You can’t do your job so I’m here to do it for you.” But the fact of the matter was, there were eighteen missing people and Miami was the hub of it all and that’s the lead you needed to follow.

You grinned, looking down, humming. “We don’t, usually. But our Florida division is stumped so, they brought me in.”

“Wow, a whole team is bankrupt of a lead, and you have one. Impressive.”

You couldn’t help but bite your lip and ask, “I’m sorry, does my presence here offend you in some way?”

“I just don’t want you wasting my units time with pointless questions about missing persons we probably know nothing about.”

You nodded. “I understand, but I would hope, as a fellow law enforcement officer, the goal would be to check all avenues first and make sure these missing persons are found and justice is served. Correct me if I’m wrong, and I’ll tell my supervisor back in D.C. that the Lieutenant doesn’t want me snooping around this case.”

Your eyes leveled with hers, challenging her. You weren’t typically someone to throw your weight or rank around, or even start confrontation, but you had a job, a duty to do and this woman seemed adamant against helping you in that endeavor.

She grinned politely. “You’re right. I apologize. What can I help with?”

“First off, do any of these people look familiar?” You pulled out the paper that you’d photocopied all of the pictures and wrote their names, ages, and sex below it. Rather than tossing out eighteen files

She glanced through the pages. “Uh, yeah, a handful of them. The names ring a bell too. These your missing people?”

You nodded. “Yes, they are. Would you happen to know anything about any of them? If any of them moved after a trial or perhaps ran? Not all of them have a criminal background but about half do.”

“And the other half?”

“Mostly spotless, relatively good citizens, but where I come from, victimology doesn’t swing on a pendulum like that.”

“Alright, well, all I can say is that yeah some of them are familiar.”

“Would you mind if I questioned your detectives?” you wondered.

“Not at all. I’ll introduce you and you can proceed how you like.”

She took you out to the common area where she introduced you to Sergeant Doakes, Detective Batista, Forensics specialist Masuka, Detective Morgan, and forensic specialist Morgan.

“She’s conducting an investigation for the FBI, please assist her any way you can. Dr. Reid, you can use the conference room to do questioning.”

You thanked Lieutenant LaGuerta and decided to just go down the list from highest ranking to lowest ranking. Sergeant Doakes was first.

“Hi, Sergeant Doakes,” you greeted as you sat down in front of him. “Thank you for speaking with me.”

He merely nodded.

“I’m going to show you some people, and I’d like you to tell me if you recognize any of them?”

“Alright,” he said with a shrug.

You slid the papers in front of him, and waited for a reaction, gauging anything he did. An eyebrow twitch, a clenching of the jaw. Anything.

Yet, you saw nothing but a studious eye from a good detective.

“Yeah, I have seen some of these people. Booked a few of them myself. Sonsabitches got away on some bullshit their lawyer pulled. Why?”

“They’re missing,” you informed with a cocked brow. You wondered if he would change his less caring manner, but he didn’t.

“So you want to know if I’ve seen them?”

“Or where they might’ve gone. Did any of them seem like they had other connections that might help them disappear?”

“I don’t know. Some might’ve,” he agreed.

“I’m not convinced all of these people are victims. Some may have very well gotten involved in some things they didn’t know how to get out of. Some may have just ran. I’m just checking all avenues.”

“Makes sense,” he stated. “What’s your gut say?” he wondered.

You sighed as you shook your head. “I don’t really know. I’ve got people with criminal backgrounds, others with nothing at all except attending church and a perfect attendance at work.”

“Be kind of weird for all these people to all skip town.”

“Yes, it would be. But Miami is big, with a lot of transient people, and it isn’t exactly Cookie Cutter, USA.”

“True. So you got any more questions for me?”

You shook your head again. “No. If you can think of anything, where they might’ve gone. I’d appreciate it.”

He nodded and stood. You asked if he could send in Batista.

Questioning with him was much easier. He seemed a lot more easy going and he seemed more willing to share information. Your gut didn’t tell you it was him though. It didn’t tell you it was Doakes either. Batista felt more of a “I like justice being served” kind, while Doakes felt more like a “criminals get what they deserve.” But that didn’t make you suspect him.

Next was Masuka, then Debra Morgan.

Debra was a colorful character but clearly not witty enough to carry out a crime. She was bright enough to solve a crime, but not stage one, let alone eighteen. Masuka was just as bad, if not worse. He seemed oblivious, and not on purpose. He said he didn’t recognize two of the missing people, but when you reminded him that he’d investigated two of their crimes he suddenly remembered all the details of the case. He was spacey, not covering anything up. But spacey doesn’t bode well for anyone who may have abducted eighteen people.

Finally, Dexter Morgan, Detective Morgan’s brother met you in the conference room.

“Hi, Dexter, I’m Dr. Reid.”

“Doctor of what?” he asked casually as he leaned back and smiled. That smile didn’t seem… sincere. Oh, it felt sincere on him, but not a friendly, polite smile. It was a smile of… an inside joke.

“Doctor of psychology,” you stated with a grin.

“Love the mind, do you?”

“Yes, Mr. Morgan. I am really interested in what makes people tick.” You flashed him a smile that served as a warning not to fuck with you.

“Me too.” He smirked quickly before hiding it with a serious face but it didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“So you and your sister work together? That’s nice,” you remarked.

“Sometimes.”

“Do you not get along?”

“We do. We’re really close, but everyone needs space, privacy now and then.”

You nodded. “Mm. I understand. I work with my husband. We met on the job, and work together on the same team, and obviously live together.”

Dexter stared at you for a second before speaking. “Wow. That’s a lot of time together.”

You bobbed your head in agreement. “Yes, it is. But I’m down here now. He’s back in D.C.”

“You’re just down here for this case?”

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly. “Actually, I’m teaching at the University. A new forensic psych class. But I believe I need to be questioning you, Mr. Morgan,” you reminded.

He chuckled, nodding. “Right, right. Go ahead.”

That bothered you. All of the other people that had come in weren’t as relaxed as him. Masuka and Batista might’ve been a little lax, but he was entirely too at ease. Almost smug. Not to mention the smirk and the fact that he was trying to find out much about you, and delaying the questioning.

You pushed the pictures across to him.

“Tell me what you know about these people,” you ordered. You didn’t even bother asking if he knew them, because you knew he did. He had to have known them. All of his colleagues did.

He looked at the pictures, a good amount of time. Not too long to pretend which ones he knew and which ones he didn’t. But not so short that it was curious how he could dismiss it so quickly.

He picked out about five of them that he knew, what he knew about them, then smiled and sat back. The smile. That’s what got you. Batista, Morgan, when they were done telling you what they knew they would look up at you expectantly. Wondering if you were profiling them, wondering if they’d satisfied you, wondering if they needed to go on, wondering if they were under suspicion.

Not Dexter. For some reason, he smiled.

Did he think that’s what he was supposed to do? Did he think innocent people smiled when shown a list of missing persons? It wasn’t smug, not the smile itself, but the action of smiling. A gut feeling formed and it was aimed right at him. You knew he had something to do with this. Whether he abducted them or knew where they went or who took them, he knew something about it.

“Do you have any reason to believe these people would run after committing the crimes they did or getting arrested?”

“I can’t speak to other people’s motives, Dr. Reid.”

A bemused smile fell on your face. “You aren’t on trial here, Mr. Morgan.”

“I know that.”

“So then tell me, you interacted with these people. Did they seem like the type to run?”

“People are capable of all kinds of things. This guy here who was involved in that armed robbery, probably not. But take this guy who murdered a twenty-one year old girl, he might have.”

“He was acquitted. Said there wasn’t enough evidence to hold him.”

“He might have feared retrial. Maybe his life was ruined down here.”

“Maybe,” you agreed, peering at him.

“It’s a shame though. Lots of people missing.”

You nodded. “Mhm, eighteen people.”

“Have you talked to their families? Maybe they know something. I mean, we just arrest them here.”

“Well, you don’t,” you corrected. “You investigate the crime scene. You tell your colleagues if the person is capable of doing it, based on their strength, size, height.”

“Yes.”

“So you’re rather familiar with crime scenes, and what they look for, and what they don’t look for… Who’s capable of doing criminal acts…” You were pacing at this point, talking to him, thinking out loud.

“That’s right. It’s my job to know exactly how someone could or might kill, and how they might clean it up. Just like it’s your job to profile people based on age, sex, and whether or not they have mommy or daddy issues,” he said, his voice getting a bit more agitated than it had been.

You couldn’t help the grin that popped onto your face. “You don’t believe in profiling?”

“I believe that people aren’t so black and white. I believe that you all like to think you can put people in a box with a pretty ribbon and say ‘Here, this one is a textbook psychopath who kills women because his mother beat him for masturbating when he was fifteen’.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about my job.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Prove it.”

“Check my track record,” you challenged with a gleam in your eye. “Profiling isn’t breaking people down with textbook definitions and diagnosis. We look at victimology, and branch out. If the victims aren’t related in any way, much like my missing persons, we have to seek out the one thing that is common for them. For Dahmer it was young men. For Bundy it was women. Gacy, little boys. Jack the Ripper, prostitutes. You get the picture. Whether you like to believe it or not, Mr. Morgan, killers have a type, a style. It can be obvious like sex, or something small. For whoever may have kidnapped these people, I’m sensing a trace of vigilante,” you informed. You hadn’t told anyone this yet.

“Why?”

“Because it’s simple. About half of these people have had run ins with the law and for whatever reason they were back out on the street. The other ones have picture perfect lives that are just a little too picture perfect for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think these people all committed crimes, whether or not they were caught by police is another thing. I also think that the person who took these people knew about some sort of shady past.”

“That’s quite the theory.”

“Exactly. Only a theory. Once I talk to all of these families, I’ll be back for further questioning.”

“Does that mean we’re done?”

You gave him a polite smile. “It does. So far all of you have admitted to knowing some of these people, and the rest, well the rest are just perfect citizens that I need to figure out how they’re related to these criminals.”

“Sounds like you have quite the task, going around to eighteen families.”

“It may take a bit, but I’ll get it done.”

“Between that and teaching, has to be a lot.”

“It’s my job, Mr. Morgan. I can make it work.”

“I bet you can.”

With that, you two said your goodbyes and you went back to your apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#inside the criminal mind #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #dexter #dexter morgan #dexter morgan fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds

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somedayonbroadway · 5 years ago

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Okok think—Newsies High School Musical AU- c h a o s

Okay, so since I already outlined High School Musical, which you can find right here, I decided to write one of the scenes from it. Hope you guys like it! It’s Jack and Katherine’s accidental audition for their school musical.

The song “I Never Planned On You” is featured in this one. The Bowery Beauties part is sung differently by Katherine. It’s a bit more long and flowy, rather than staccato and showgirl-ish. But still a little showgirl-ish.

Anyways, please enjoy!

Papers flew across the stage and the pianist hit the ground on his hip.

Jack didn’t waste a second. He knew how badly that could hurt.

Katherine was right behind him.

“Are you alright?” she asked as Jack helped the boy back up.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m alright…” Charlie stayed, as Katherine grabbed his crutch and helped place the thing back under his arm just as Jack began to calmly reach around for the sheer music that had flown everywhere.

Looking down at the pages, the older boy smiled. “Hey… uh… you write this?” he asked, impressed at the professionalism of the score in his hand.

A small blush rose up on Charlie’s cheeks as he limped back to the piano bench. He nodded. “Uh… yeah… yeah, I’ve been uh… workin’ on this musical for about three years…” he confirmed.

Smiling as she helped gather the remains of the papers, Katherine nodded. “It sounded really good when they sang it…” she commented, trailing off a bit as her hand brushed up against Jack’s as they reached for the same page.

Jack smiled and withdrew his hand as they tried to rearrange the pages back in order.

But Charlie just sighed and shook his head. “They’re delivery was… not quite what I was goin’ for…” he admitted, smiling bitterly as he thought about the odd, perky rearrangement of this song he’d been working so hard on. “It’s supposed to be a little slower than that… n’... just… not that…” he stated, not quite knowing how to phrase it. He looked back up at the pair in front of him who were both reading his work intently. And he allowed himself a small smile. “Do you guys wanna try it out?”

Jack paled at that, practically shoving the pages at Katherine, trying to hide his fascination in anyway he could. “Oh no… no, that’s okay…”

Katherine just laughed and bumped Jack’s shoulder a bit, smiling up at him. “Cmon Jack… where’s your sense of adventure?” she joked, holding out the sheet music in front of both of them and moving to stand behind the piano. “We’d love to try it.”

Jack’s heart was beating fast in his chest as Charlie just smiled, ignoring the older boy’s obvious terror. And the piano began. “Alright… so it starts out slow… I’ll count ya in…”

The blond did as he said, counting up from five as he began to play the keys so effortlessly and Jack’s mind scrambled to try and remember everything he’d ever learned about music that was somewhere in the back of his head. He cleared his throat as he leaned closer to the page and took a breath. “I got no use for moonlight,” he sang quietly, his voice shaking ever so slightly. “Or sappy poetry…” He looked over once. She was smiling at him.

His eyes had never rushed back to a page so quickly.

“Love at first eights for suckers… at least it used to be.” He would be forever grateful that Charlie was playing the melody line along with him as he sang. “Look, girls are nice, once or twice… till I find someone new but…” He looked over at Katherine and watched her eyes sparkle with amusement and intrigue as he continued on. “I neva’ planned on no one… like you…”

Katherine smirked, suddenly a little sassy as she began to sing her part so differently from his Sarah had performed it merely moments ago. “Don’t come a’ knockin’ on my door,” she sang, a perfect rich legato placed just so with her own unique vibrato.

“I got no use for moonlight…” Jack sang just at the end of her phrase, almost making it up now. But Charlie didn’t seem to mind.

“You aren’t welcome here no more.” Katherine was smiling now. Like she didn’t mean it.

Jack could only grin back. “Or sappy poetry…” He didn’t know his voice could still move like this. But damn if it wasn’t fun as hell.

“I should’ve known you stunk like yesterday’s trash, the night you stole my heart plus forty dollars in cash,” she laughed a bit at that line. Charlie did too. But he never stopped playing. “Turns out my beau is just some bum…”

“Love at first sights for suckers… at least it used to be…”

“Turns out that love ain’t blind it’s dumb…” Katherine let her voice ring and echo around the room. She stuck her tongue out at Jack, like he’d really done this to her. And he laughed.

Little did they know, a certain drama teacher had walked back into the auditorium.

“You’ve never told the truth or worked a day in your life. In fact you’re so revolting I feel bad for your wife.” Charlie couldn’t help but smile. This is exactly how this song was supposed to be sung. They weren’t arguing with him. They weren’t even trying to make suggestions. They just sang what was written. It might not have been exactly perfect. But it didn’t matter. “I won’t be shaving your back anymore, no señor, don’t come a’ knockin’ on my door… don’t come a’ knockin’ on my door…” Katherine winked at Jack. “Don’t come a knockin’ on my door…”

Jack shook his head and blushed hard, unable to hide his joy as an odd but warm feeling crept up inside his chest. “No, I never planned on no one… like you…”

Crutchie played the last few fleeting cords and then allowed himself to laugh and nod. “Yeah! Yeah, that was it! That was great!”

Shaking her head, Katherine laughed. Jack did too.

But someone else began clapping. All three of them jumped. “Alright, you two… callbacks are next Thursday. I suggest you both rehearse the song. I’m sure Charlie would love to help you with it—“

Breaking out into a grin, Charlie nodded. “Yes! Yeah, you can always find me in here! Before school, after school, lunch, break, sometimes during science class…” he rambled, unable to stop himself. Because Sarah and David might not be able to win this time.

Maybe these guys could do it.

Jack’s eyes widened and he let out a small laugh. “I… I mean, Miss Medda… Cmon, we was just messin’ around—“

“I’ll see you both, next week! Thank you!” Miss Medda called as she turned to leave, almost like she hadn’t heard the boy.

Katherine laughed. And Jack turned back to her, looking terrified at the thought. “Oh Jack, come on, you know that was fun. Why not give it a shot?” she asked, turning back towards Charlie who was still grinning like mad.

And Jack shrugged. “I… I ain’t sung in fron’ a’ people since I was like six… n’ that wasn’t even cause I wan’ed to. It was because the whole first grade class had ta do it,” he argued.

But Charlie scoffed. “You just sang an entire song you didn’t know with me hardly helping you and you did it with almost correct placement the whole time. And I’ll help you! Please?”

Katherine nodded. “I’m in if you are,” she smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake, like it was some kind of business deal.

Jack looked at her and then towards Charlie, then back at her. And he sighed. “Fine…” he shook her hand.

And that was that.

#newsies #jack kelly #katherine plumber #crutch morris #medda larkin #high school musical #high school romance #newsies live #newsies musical #much love #singing #anonymous #anon #anon response #newsies au #newsies rp #modern era #modern au #newsies fanfiction

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midnightartemis · 4 years ago

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Chapters: 32/? Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Finn/Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren Characters: Rey (Star Wars), Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron, Rose Tico, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, Maz Kanata, Larma D'Acy, Amilyn Holdo, Snoke (Star Wars), Boba Fett, Bossk (Star Wars), Armitage Hux, Chewbacca (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abuse, Drug Use, Suicide Attempt, Star-crossed, Dreams, Alternate Universe - High School, High School, School Dances, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Foster Care, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Near Death Experiences, Multiverse, Reincarnation, Attempted Sexual Assault, Assault, Graphic Description, Teenage Drama, Horny Teenagers, Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Past Drug Use, Drug Dealing

Chapter Three

Tuesday goes by without incident, though Latin will kill me. Rose is more than happy to walk me to my classes, chatting happily about her own, and I’m happy for the company for once. Poe and Finn are in my P.E. class and they’re so competitive. Rose tells me it’s okay to take them down a notch if I can. I’m athletic, but usually never got the chance to stay in a place long enough to participate in anything.

Wednesday rolls around and Rose is buzzing about Friday as we eat lunch. My eyes search for Ben, but I can’t find him anymore. “What’s Friday?”

“Oh, my god. I completely forgot to add you to the group chat.” Rose palms her face and gets out her phone. I sheepishly hand her my half-broken iPhone but she doesn’t bat an eye. “Poe, Finn, and I are having a little get together to celebrate the start of the school year. Please, come. I know you have to ask Maz.”

I’d never been invited to a party before. “I would love that. I’ll ask her tonight.”

I hope Maz said yes. Things were going smoothly there.

Rose and I left lunch early so that we could walk together to class. Rose liked to show up early to vocal class to help set up and I was more than happy to have a few minutes alone, even if it met sitting in awkward silence with him.

I open the classroom door and he’s there sitting where he was Monday. I take my seat across from him and pull out my headphones to listen to music for a bit. I scroll for a while and settle on The Lumineers’ Ophelia album. It takes a lot for me to not dance and hum along, so I pull out my drawing notebook and start in on practicing drawing 3D shapes.

I feel his eyes on me and I look up, realizing that I’ve been bobbing along to the music. He looks away and I think there’s a hint of a smile on his face. I flush. What is it with him? He didn’t look like a hardcore drug dealer, not like the ones I’ve seen. He looked quiet and lonely. Soft. Dammit, Rey.

He looks up again and sees me watching him. He scowls, his mood instantly souring. I look away sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“Did they get to you, too?”

“What?” My heart races at his voice. My eyes meet his and they’re looking over me intensely.

“The golden trio.” His voice is low, angry.

Poe, Finn, and Rose? I frown. “I-”

Before I can say anymore, the door opens and Mrs. Tico walks in, cheerful as ever. “Hi, Rey! Ben!”

“Hi, Mrs. Tico.” I smile back, but inside my stomach is rolling with anxiety. What did he mean ‘ get to me?’ Rose had made it pretty clear what happened and I doubted Poe just hated Ben for shits and giggles. I look back at him and he’s concentrating on his notebook as if nothing had happened. I scowl and go back to my own work.

“How was school, hun?” Maz picks me up in her bug after school to take me to therapy.

“Good.” I smile. “I have a mountain of homework already, but everyone is really nice.”

“Good, good.” We drive without talking, just listening to the radio quietly. My stomach turns as I think about the party. I cross my fingers and ask.

“Maz?”

“Yeah?” she glances at me.

“I was wondering- well… Rose and Poe and Finn were getting together Friday night and they invited me. And I was wondering if I can go?” I bite my lip and look at her hopefully.

Maz smiles. “Ah… the infamous Dameron Back to School get-together.”

My eyes widen. “Oh. Oh. I didn’t realize it was a party-party. Nevermind.”

“No, Rey. Go! Have fun. Enjoy your friends. Just no drinking or drugs. I’m here to keep you safe and healthy, not ruin your high school experience.” Her eyes sparkle, but there’s a seriousness to them. “11:30 PM. At the latest. Okay?”

I nod, trying to hide my excitement. “11:30. Got it.”

We pull into a parking lot of a small brick office building downtown and Maz walks me in. We go to the second floor where there’s a small waiting room. It’s very zen with comfy chairs, light incense, peaceful art, and meditation music in the background. There are two doors, both closed. Maz and I sit and wait until the door on the left opens. A man walks out and he’s got a wide, open face covered in a grey beard and eyes that radiate kindness and knowing. I instantly feel at ease when he smiles. “Rey?”

I nod and stand. He walks over and sticks out his hand and I shake it. “I’m Luke Skywalker. Let’s go in and have Maz fill out some paperwork and then we will get started on your introductory session.”

Did everyone in this town know Maz? We fill out the usual paperwork in Luke’s office. It’s just as zen as outside. There’s a Buddha sitting on a bookshelf perfectly curated with books on mental health and well being. A fountain trickles gently in the corner. Everything is in order, at balance.

“I’ll be waiting in the lobby.” Maz signs the last paper and leaves us. I take a seat on the couch and Luke sits in the chair across from me.

“So, Rey,” he says with a small sigh. “I’m guessing this isn’t your first time in therapy?”

I laugh a little. “No.”

“Well, I have a few questions that we can discuss, but first, I just want to give you a little overview of what our plan is if you choose to move forward. I like to do a little one-on-one session before placing you in a group. I run a few groups, and it’s all just about trying to place you in the right one where I think you have the best chance of learning and listening to your peers and sharing your own stories. Sounds good?”

I nod.

“So, tell me about yourself, Rey. Your childhood, things you like to do… Anything you’d like in whatever way you want to tell me.”

“Well…” I take a deep breath. The story in my head is one that’s carefully rehearsed, told over and over. “My parents abandoned me when I was six. I was found by some workers abandoned in the Jakku city dump. And they couldn’t find my parents, so I got placed into the system. I jumped around a lot as a kid. No one really wanted me. And then when I got older, I got tired of the abuse and the neglect, so I started gathering evidence on my fosters and getting their licenses revoked. But that just met that I jumped around even more. I’ve just kinda learned how to survive and take care of myself.”

“That sounds hard and exhausting.”

I nod and sigh. “Yeah.”

“What about now? You’ve only been at Maz’s a few days, from my understanding. How’s that going?”

“Good. I think.” I reply. Luke says nothing, waiting for me to fill the silence. “It’s a lot to process. Everything changed so quickly and she’s unlike any foster I’ve ever stayed with. It’s… It’s almost like it's too good to be true… And, I guess I’m worried that it will be. Or I’ll fuck up and it will all be taken from me.”

“Do you think you deserve a good foster home?”

I can’t meet his eyes. Tears prickle at my own. “No.”

“Why not?” Dang, this guy is good.

“I’m not anyone special… There are a lot more kids out there who are a lot more deserving.”

“So… What I’m hearing is that you spent the last few years catching abusers in the system… But you’re not deserving of a good home?” He raises his eyebrow at me. I see his point, but I still can’t reconcile myself with it. “You sound pretty special to me, Rey.”

“I’m not anyone special.” I shrug. “I just didn’t want other people to go through what I have.”

“Do you feel that’s your duty? To save other people?”

I mull over his question and nod slowly.

“There aren’t many people out there who would put others before their own personal wellbeing and safety. What things do you like doing for yourself?”

“I like listening to music… And working with my hands.”

Luke smiles. “Good. Those are really good ways to take care of yourself.”

“They help me a lot when I need a break from the outside world. It can be really… Overwhelming.”

“Tell me about that.” Luke nudges me in that direction gently.

“Well, I don’t know. It’s like… I can get really overwhelmed in crowds. If there’s a lot of noise or people or things going on. It gets hard to think and concentrate.”

“Like at school?”

I nod.

“Is there anywhere you go to get away from the noise and let yourself relax for a bit?”

“Usually after lunch, I go to the art room because there’s no one there before class usually.” Not no one. Might as well be no one though.

“Good. It’s important to create room for yourself and thoughts and to listen to yourself.” Luke smiles. “Tell me about school. Are you enjoying your classes so far?”

“Yeah. Principal Organa was really happy with my interest in science and math. She put me in physics, and pre-calc, and small engines and I really like all three so far. It just makes sense to me. More than English or Latin or Social Studies. Though, I don’t mind Social Studies either. And psychology is interesting, too.”

“Very interesting.”

I laugh. “Right, I’m talking to a psychology master.”

“I have a group on Thursdays after school. It’s some of your age group dealing with some similar things as you. Is that something you would be interested in?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“I’ll have you start next Thursday so I can let them know that the group is expanding a little. How does that sound?”

“‘Good.”

Luke nods and stands. “I’m afraid that’s all we have time for today. It was great to meet you, Rey.”

I stand and let him lead me out of the room.

#reylo #reylo fanfic #rey x ben #star wars #high school au

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lantern-inthenight · 5 years ago

Text

Playing the Vocals (series)

Chapter 7: All the Pieces

Pairing: Josh x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4140

Warnings: Language, smut (18+ ONLY), angst :)

A/N: This is my favorite chapter. That’s all.

Summary: Josh and Reader are competing vocalists at a music college. They are each trying to win a competition as soloists, but their advisor tells them they can only win as a duo. They begrudgingly become partners, but find that they may have bitten off more than they can chew.

Rehearsals continued as planned, just like Miss Michaels said they would. The only thing that changed was the way your instructor looked at you sometimes. You would occasionally glance at her during an interaction with Josh, only to find Michaels squinting at the two of you. She looked suspicious as all hell, and you knew she had every right to be.

To her, it appeared that you and Josh had experienced a sudden epiphany. In the span of six days, your rivalry had simmered down to a respectful agreement more akin to being coworkers. And that didn’t sit right with Michaels at all. After all, you and Josh were still a couple of temperamental artists, whose talents were matched only by your egos.

But Michaels coached you nonetheless, and she was relieved that the fighting seemed to have died down. The rehearsals went quite smoothly, with the quality of your performances only improving. These, as well as your almost daily trysts with Josh, were your new normal. Everything settled down into a routine, a constant hum that served as the background music of your life for the following three weeks.

Until one night a month before the competition, when you woke up from a dream crying Josh’s name. In fact, it was the very word spilling from your lips that pulled you from the haze of sleep.

You sat bolt upright in bed, panting. The muscles between your legs were fluttering, aching with the unsatisfied urge given to you by your dream. You glanced over at your phone, already wide awake.

It was just after eleven o’clock. Shit. You must have fallen asleep early.

It was dark in your apartment, except for the streetlights painting your walls in stripes through the blinds. You got up and shuffled to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water and bringing it back to your room. You collapsed back into bed with a sigh. You really needed to have a talk with yourself about what exactly was happening between you and Josh. Sure, you barely spoken to him outside of practice, or your bedrooms, but why did you feel a weird attachment to him? Did you even have a right to feel that way about him? After all, you hated each other, right?

...right?

You shook your head at yourself, knowing that that wasn’t true. Not that either of you said it to each other. But there was no way he would look at you the way he did if he hated you. And if you hated him, why did you feel so lonely upon waking up and realizing he wasn’t there?

Your first instinct was to text him. But as you laid there with the phone in your hand, you found yourself hesitating. Was he really at your beck and call like that? Could you just casually text him late at night on a Thursday, asking him to come over?

No, you couldn’t. He wasn’t yours; not like that. So you turned your phone over and buried your face in the pillow instead. With nothing to do, and no sleep on the horizon, your mind wandered. What was Josh doing right now? Was he in his bed, wondering the same thing about you? Or, more likely, was he out with a pretty girl from one of your classes?

You inhaled deeply, unintentionally catching the scent of Josh’s hair on the pillow. You hugged it tighter to yourself, trying your best to close your eyes and imagine that it was him instead.

Because, as much as you hated to admit it, you wanted so badly for it to be him. You wanted him there with you, to hold you as the sobs started to shake your body. To run his hands over your shoulders as they heaved with each breath. To brush the hair out of your face as you cried into the pillows, wishing that it was his shirt instead.

But when you opened your eyes, there was no Josh. No familiar scent, no soft lips, no gentle hands. You were alone.

The soft buzz of your phone pulled you from your self-pity and loneliness. You wiped your eyes to be able to clearly see the text on your screen. Sitting up, you tried your best to focus on the words through the teardrops stuck to your eyelashes.

It was from Josh. He had sent you a text asking if you wanted to walk to practice together tomorrow.

You couldn’t stop yourself from hitting the call button. You couldn’t help but wait with bated breath as the line rang. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to answer or not.

Josh picked up on the second ring.

“Hey,” he answered. His voice was soft and you could hear the smile in it.

“Hey,” you repeated back to him, a little too quickly. You swallowed before continuing.

“I just figured, um, it’d be easier to talk on the phone.”

“Okay,” he replied. It was quiet on the other end of the line. You hoped that meant he was home, and not with someone. But you mentally slapped yourself for thinking that. You had no right to think that.

“We can definitely walk to rehearsal together. Want to just meet by the dining hall?”

“Sure,” Josh confirmed, his tone light. But there was a question on his mind.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You closed your eyes, embarrassed. You had hoped your voice wasn’t cracking too much. But the crying was too recent, and the lump in your throat impeded your voice. It only grew at his concern, but you couldn’t put a finger on why.

“I, um…” you trailed off, unable to lie. Admitting the truth was even harder. Josh was patient while you grappled with the words.

“Not really,” you sighed. Then came the question-- you couldn’t stop it. “Are you doing anything right now?”

“No,” Josh said right away. You almost could have convinced yourself he sounded eager. But you didn’t dare to be that arrogant, instead stuttering through your response.

“Do you-- do you want to come over, maybe?”

Josh hesitated before answering, and you regretted even asking. Was he second-guessing his own eagerness? How desperate you must sound, tired and half-crying still. But Josh’s answer was certain enough for both of you.

“Yeah. I’ll be over in a bit.” His voice was soft but steadfast, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

“Okay.”

You scrolled absentmindedly through Tumblr until Josh knocked at your door. You tried your best not to run to the front door, on the off chance that he could hear your footsteps approaching.

When you opened the door, Josh greeted you with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, looking at you kindly. You felt heat rising to your cheeks as you replied.

“Hi. Come in.”

Josh just smiled again, and you took in his appearance as he passed you. He wore a long-sleeved, black t-shirt, with a pair of inexplicable rose-colored shorts. You were so relieved by his presence that you couldn’t even be annoyed at how good they looked on him. Josh stopped in your kitchen, and you took the lead from there. Walking to your room for the second time that hour, you sighed with relief at the sound of his shoes pittering on the hardwood behind you.

“I, uh, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called,” you remarked nervously, sitting on the edge of the bed. Josh only sat down when you patted the spot next to you, watching him with doleful eyes. You felt it in your chest when his weight settled onto the mattress. Something about it was just right.

“No, I was just watching an old film.”

Josh’s gaze was gentle when it landed on your face across from his. But there was concern in his eyes. You could see the moment that he noticed your eyelashes were wet, and your eyes bloodshot. There was a strand of hair stuck to a tear track on your cheek, and he reached up slowly to brush it away.

You wanted to tell him. The words boiled inside you, but you didn’t know how to get them out. So you waited for Josh to ask the inevitable, his fingertips lingering on your cheek.

“What happened?” His tone was protective, and it made you happy for some reason. But you shook your head, trying your best to give a light chuckle.

“Nothing, I just… I had a dream, and it… It got to me.”

Josh looked relieved that it wasn’t something more serious. But still, concern pushed his eyebrows together in a frown.

“Like a nightmare? What was it about?”

“It was about you…” you trailed off, already feeling ashamed. Josh blinked in surprise. You continued, already past the point of no return.

“...but it wasn’t a nightmare.”

You took a deep breath as your admission sank in. Josh appeared to be going through a range of emotions. First, more surprise, then the tiniest of smirks, and lastly, confusion.

“So why have you been crying?”

Time to scare him off, you thought. When you spoke, your voice was barely a whisper.

“Because I woke up and you weren’t there.”

Josh squinted, and for a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you. But he looked at the floor with another look of confusion, and you guessed correctly that he had. When he looked back up at you, his expression wasn’t one of judgement, but perplexion.

“And I just… wanted you there. Here, I mean,” you corrected yourself, gesturing with one hand. Your other hand fidgeted with a loose string on your shorts. But Josh didn’t answer, chewing on his lip. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, and the panic started to set in. You shook your head, trying to backpedal.

“God, I’m sorry. I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have called.”

Josh looked back up to you, concerned. But you chattered on, convinced this was all a mistake. You waved your hands in front of yourself as you talked, too upset to notice Josh taking them into his own. A renewed well of tears pricked at your eyes.

“I didn’t mean to waste your time. I’m j--I’m just being ridiculous--”

His lips were on yours before you could blink. And that was all the response you needed. You froze in surprise, but Josh was steadfast once again, the quiet but assured counterargument to your doubts.

The movement of his lips against your mouth softly willed those doubts away. He held your hands clasped together in one hand, the other hand cupping your face gently. Then, you were leaning in close, deepening the kiss and sighing against his mouth.

Suddenly, your willingness overtook his, and you were pulling your hands from his and throwing them around his neck instead. You tilted your face into Josh’s, trying to get as close to him as possible. The desperation overtook you and you had to feel him. It felt like you might lose your mind without him on you for a moment longer, and you were pulling at his shirt. The fabric was nothing more than an obstacle, and you had to get rid of it.

But Josh surprised you again. He pulled back, both hands on your cheeks. The look on his face was indecipherable. You winced, fear seeping back into your mind. Had he simply been giving you a goodbye kiss?

“I’ll take care of you,” he told you firmly. His voice was steady, his gaze searching your face for any sign of discomfort. When he found none, he continued.

“Just slow down. Let me take care of you.”

You nodded, still crying a little. Josh brushed the falling tears with featherlight touches of his thumbs. And then he was leaning in again, to press gentle kisses to either corner of your mouth. You were still frozen there, emotional and tired. But Josh made good on his word, kissing you softly for just a moment before sliding his hands up your back. He pulled your shirt over your head, dropping it to the side. Placing his hands on your back once again, he kissed you a little harder this time. You sighed at the contact, blinking away the last tears.

“Lean back. I’ve got you,” Josh whispered, leaning back and watching you closely. His hold on your upper body never faltered as you followed his instruction. He lowered you onto your pillows, the ones that already smelled of him. Before you could pull at him again, Josh sat back and pulled his shirt off.

You tilted your head to look at him. The stripes painted on the wall by the streetlight outside landed on Josh instead, covering his torso in pale orange bars. The light was distorted by the slight curve of Josh’s front, the hard and flat muscles moving as he breathed.

You reached up to ghost your fingertips over those muscles as he leaned over you, bracing himself with one hand next to your shoulder. His other hand settled on your jaw, tilting it up for a kiss. Josh inched up between your legs, never leaving your mouth, until your centers were close. It was then that you noticed something.

He wasn’t even hard yet. Josh, usually at full attention for you right away, was only a little fuller in his shorts than normal.

Great, you thought. I cried all over him and now he can’t even be turned on.

But Josh wasn’t paying attention to his own pleasure. Just like he said, he was focused only on you. His lips left your face to wander down along your neck and collarbones. He kissed his way down your sternum, the touches of his lips sending tingles in their wake. It was simultaneously satisfying and frustrating, driving you nearly mad.

He stopped just short of your belly button, parting his lips to give a soft kitten lick before moving himself back up to your face. His hand settled next to your shoulder once again, but his other hand didn’t come back up to your face like before.

Instead, you felt Josh pulling at your underwear, his fingertips curling around the elastic of the waistband. He pulled them down, over your hips, and you shimmied yourself to get them off completely.

When you were naked underneath him, Josh’s wandering hand returned to the supple skin between your thighs. This time, unimpeded by fabric, he trailed two fingers along your heat. You watched him sigh and look down at you with hooded eyes when he realized how wet you were. Wholly and truly aching for him. You could tell he wanted to say something about it, and pre-empted him.

“Please don’t make me beg,” you whispered. Josh gave a slight chuckle, and ducked down to kiss you quickly.

“I won’t.”

And he pushed a finger into you. Slowly, to be gentle with you, he pulled it back and then in again. Josh set a rhythm that was deliberate, painstaking, and wonderful. With each slide of his hand, he pressed his middle finger upward, into the most succulent part of you.

It was enough to make you whine and dig your nails into his ribs. Josh leaned down, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a slight smile. He pressed his mouth to yours again and swallowed all of the little noises you made, kissing you sweetly even as you squirmed beneath him. You held him by the neck with one hand, continuing to scrape your nails lightly against his side.

“Do you want to come like this?” Josh murmured against your lips. You whined, moving your hands up to hold his face.

“No. I want to come around you.”

It was the strongest your voice had been all night. Josh noticed this and you felt his grin when he kissed you one more time. He pulled his fingers from you slowly, teasing your clit with the wet fingertips. But instead of bringing them to your mouth to be sucked clean (as was the usual at this point), Josh instead wiped your slickness on himself.

You watched with wide eyes as Josh got himself wet for you, his fingers sliding down his member. And he was achingly hard. You smiled in relief, and a little at being so turned on, that his mood wasn’t ruined by your earlier crying. Or rather, that he wasn’t ready to do anything without making sure you were okay first.

Josh lined himself up with you and pushed inside slowly, emitting a little grunt here and there as he went. Your arms went around him, and your legs hooked over his hips to allow him all the room he needed. The two of you locked eyes as you took him to the hilt, and time slowed down. This was what you wanted from the moment you woke up.

It was rapture. When Josh bottomed out and then started in again, the resumed pace left you feeling holy. You whimpered again, and Josh kissed you in response. Slowly, deeply, with every ounce of his attention given to your wants and reactions.

He made love to you that way, kissing with intention, and fucking into you without hurry. His free hand fell to your shoulders and he held you close, like he was promising with his entire body that he would never leave you lonely again.

And for that time, however long it was, everything was alright. All the pieces fit together and stayed put. The only thing that mattered was being in his arms. And if the world collapsed outside your room, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Your room, and everything in it, faded out as the high overtook you. Each thrust Josh gave you only pushed you further and further up the hill. It was softer orgasm than what you had experienced with him before, but no less commanding. All the little moans that slipped past your lips were indications of this.

Lights and colors faded to the periphery as you threw back your head with one last cry. Josh was no longer trying to muffle your sounds, and focused instead on chasing his own high now that yours had come. His pace didn’t change, but his hips rutted harder against yours, pushing himself deeper into you.

This, and you pulsing around him, was enough to send Josh over the edge right behind you. His hand left your shoulder to grip at the sheets as he groaned against your neck. He needed to squeeze onto something, but he didn’t want to give you bruises. His face scrunched up for a moment, and you felt him twitching inside you.

Josh pulled himself from you languidly, then turned over and collapsed onto the bed. You turned your head just enough to look at him in the dim light. You could faintly make out a few beads of sweat on his brow, and his eyebrows were raised until his panting died down into steady breaths.

You got up silently and walked to the bathroom to clean off. When you returned to your room, Josh was pulling his underwear on. He was reaching for his shirt and his pants when you spoke up.

“Are you leaving?”

You hadn’t meant to sound desperate. But considering he had just indulged you in that very same desperation, you could hardly feel bothered.

Josh shrugged, trying to keep his face passive. You sat on the edge of the bed next to him as he answered.

“I just figured I should. If that’s all you needed?”

You just stared at him. Did he really think you just called him there to fulfill a physical need?

Oh God. He feels used, you realized. He thinks I’ve been using him.

That was the only explanation for the sadness of his expression when he thought you were done with him. The ache in his eyes every time you gathered your things and left.

The very thought made you feel awful. You could almost feel the dejection on his face, however much he tried to hide it, and you hated yourself for putting it there. You didn’t realize that first day in the rehearsal room, but you weren’t capable of using him. Whatever you felt for him, it was too strong for that. Even if you tried, your heart wouldn’t be in it.

A second realization hit you a split second after the first.

There was a reason he agreed to come over so quickly.

“No,” you stated bluntly. Josh looked at you sideways, his mouth turning down at the corners. But his eyebrows went up again in genuine curiosity.

“Stay here,” you suggested, letting your hand fall next to his on the comforter. “We can talk a bit… if you want.”

Josh smiled a little but appeared to be in disbelief.

“Are you sure?”

You didn’t have a better way to tell him. Or at least, you couldn’t think of one in the moment. So you leaned over and kissed him, cupping his face with one hand. Josh froze in surprise, but quickly found his wits and kissed you back after a moment.

It was a simple kiss. Just two people expressing a feeling they couldn’t describe with words. But you did the best you could, moving your mouth with his for as long as it took him to understand: you wanted him there.

“Stay with me tonight,” you told him, still holding his face to yours. It wasn’t a question so much as a decision, and one that Josh readily accepted.

It should have been strange, lying next to Josh with no intention of going anywhere. You had never slept side by side, after all. But he leaned back, still clad only in his underwear, and you settled in next to him for a comfortable silence.

It was Josh who broke that silence, although it was another half hour before he spoke.

“Do you remember last year, we were doing group practice with Mr. Smith?”

You looked up at Josh, scanning his face for context. You were lying on your side next to him, with blankets pulled up to your chin. Josh remained on his back, with one hand resting behind his head.

“Yeah,” you replied after a minute. “I think that was the first class we had together.”

“It was,” Josh confirmed. You could tell there was something he wanted to say, and waited for the words to make their way out of him.

“I laughed during one of your solos in that class,” Josh admittedly flatly. You frowned at him, not appreciating the memory being brought up. But before you could think of something to say, Josh continued.

“You were running a solo verse, but Sam and I weren’t paying attention. We should have been, but… Sam leaned over and said that Mr. Smith looks like Bono--”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. It was so true.

“--and I laughed. And I know it looked like I was laughing at you, but I wasn’t. I was laughing at a stupid joke my stupid brother made, and I was an idiot for disrespecting you like that.”

Josh turned his head to look at you, his eyes flitting across your face for any reaction. You pondered his admission for a few seconds, and then caught his stare.

“So I never had a real reason to hate you?”

“Well, not for that, anyway,” Josh laughed nervously. You smiled a little, but winced immediately after at the thought of despising someone over a misunderstanding.

“But I don’t blame you. It did look like I was laughing at you. And I haven’t exactly been nice to you since then, either. But I just always wanted to tell you that.”

You couldn’t think of anything to say to follow up his admission, so you settled for reaching over and taking his free hand.

Josh’s expression was pained, and you could see a year’s worth of regret etched all over his face. And for someone whose love was playing the vocals, you never were good with words. So you did what you could, which was to scoot up next to Josh and rest your head on his chest. His skin was a little sticky with sweat, but it was warm and that was all you wanted.

Josh sighed when you threw your arm across him and traced figure-eights over his side. The hand that had been behind his head came down to rest on your shoulders. The tension in Josh’s body seemed to ease a bit after that, and his breathing slowed even more. Before long, he was drifting off, with one hand in your hair and the other intertwined with one of yours.

You fell asleep not long after, resting peacefully in Josh’s arms.

Taglist: @kissthesun-fightthefire, @lover--leaver, @myownparadise96, @satans-helper, @songbirdkisses, @bluewillowmom, @sparrowof-thedawn, @sweetkiszkadreams, @mountainofthesunn, @turntonightfirelight, @chestinfect-me, @ohsososophisticatedd

#gvf #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #playing the vocals #part seven #smut

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