#like just reading about them and her finding where she truly belongs <3 again him hugging her so tightly and the kisses to her head aa <3

[causenessus]

eggy i regret never sending you an ask about this quote i found that immediately made me think of rot. i screenshotted it and i've had it in my images forever and i'm not sure why i never sent it to you (i think i was just scared of you disagreeing with it or something idk </3) but now that i've read this chapter (amazing, by the way) i feel like this poem excerpt encases this work so so well:

"cautiously, i allowed myself to feel good at times. i found moments of peace in cheap rooms just staring at the knobs of some dresser or listening to the rain in the dark. the less i needed the better i felt."

"let it enfold you" (charles bukowski)

(and i ran out of tag space so i came here to rant more so u may want to come back after reading the tags bc i just got sick of having to abide to the character limits when i have so much to say)

rot just feels like an entire universe and world of it's own and it is so so beautiful

like a completely different universe that i want to go to i don't know how to explain it

(and sorry if these tags sound off or dry or anything!! i just want to show how genuine and serious i am about the impact this fic has had on me and how good it is by not using caps and everything if that makes sense)

i should probably save something to say when i reblog the masterlist again but eggy i loved rot so much. it was so so good. you are such a talented writer you should be proud of this; of the work as a whole and every single chapter and how much thought you put into every word and part and how much your heart has gone into this. i love this work SO much i genuinely need to go onto one of those book websites and get this work printed out. i love the way that this fic had impacted me so much i feel like i see reminders of it everywhere, or open my window and think of the first chapter of rot, and y/n trying to open her window while she smokes. i love the way the word "rot" itself has continued to be so important to this work. how it appears everywhere, how it is a part of y/n. i loved seeing y/n's character develop throughout this work, how her mindset changed multiple times throughout her different jobs, and as she got closer to iwa, and then they seperated, and then the immediate way her life was bright again, warm despite the bitter winter outside because she was finally in his arms again, and she was home.

rot: h. iwaizumi

chapter six -> a promise

(masterlist ; written content)

word count: 2.7k

now playing: my hot piss by die spitz

Autumn cools everything down. The feverish sort of pain that made her almost delirious has chilled into a dull, steady ache. Kiyoko rests her head on her shoulder. They sit on the couch together, under a shared blanket, and watch old, cheesy horror movies. Every on-screen death makes Kiyoko flinch and hide her face under the blanket.

It’s odd, to be in her apartment, to have it be her own as well. Where the fridge is free of remnants of rotten food and is properly stocked with essentials. Where the furniture matches and there’s no stuffing spilling out of the cushioning. It’s small, and sometimes she has to fiddle with the pipes under the sink to avoid calling a plumber, but it’s nice. It’s well-kept and Kiyoko always has some kind of candle lit. The walls are white, just white, not stained yellow from years of cigarette smoking. The locks don’t look like they’re about to fall off the door. There’s no mold in the bathroom. No pest infestations. No decay in the hardwood floor.

It makes her feel so out of place.

“My parents helped with the deposit,” Kiyoko had explained to her, almost sheepishly, like this was something she should be ashamed of. “And with the first few months of rent while I built up some savings. It’s how I was able to get it.”

Her brother would’ve liked Kiyoko, she thinks. He would’ve liked her quiet demeanor, and the deliberate sort of way she carries herself. He would’ve liked how spending time with her is never overwhelming. He would’ve liked how her voice is like a small stream that runs down the street after a rainstorm.

They would’ve gotten along.

She has the thought that he would’ve hated Iwaizumi, and then tries to pretend that she didn’t.

Onscreen, a head is removed from a set of shoulders. She tries not to think of Iwaizumi. It makes her sick, even his name. Never once has she felt like she did the right thing. Kiyoko keeps telling her that sometimes, the right things hurt the most. But that doesn’t help. It doesn’t quell the nausea she feels at his memory. It doesn’t fade that dull, aching loneliness. It doesn’t make her feel better about leaving him.

Objectively, her life as improved post-Iwaizumi. She’s held onto the same job for several months in a row without incident (no spitting, cursing, or fighting-though that’s mostly due to Kiyoko). She actually has money in her bank account now, ¥50,901.96, after rent (which, isn’t a lot by any metric, but it’s definitely more than nothing). Her father stopped calling. Her diet is much more balanced. The cable’s better. She doesn’t really get mad anymore.

It's an improvement. A drastic one. Something she probably wouldn’t have been able to achieve on her own.

But it’s worse. It just feels worse.

Blood spews from a headless body, cartoonishly fake. Kiyoko squirms, and she doesn’t flinch.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

The bell on the door to the sports shop dings as the it closes, and a customer leaves with fresh tennis balls. She rests her cheek on the palm of her hand as she leans up against the counter. She’s drawing the earth as it explodes from the inside, splitting into dozens of chunks of land and ocean. “Who the fuck buys tennis balls in November?”

Kiyoko slides behind the counter to stand beside her, peering over her shoulder to watch her draw. “I dunno. Maybe he’s going somewhere warm,” she offers as a solution.

Kiyoko doesn’t hate people the way she does. She can’t ever hate someone just because she wants to; Kiyoko doesn’t ever want to. It makes her feel mean, since the feeling of hatred comes to her so naturally. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Noya thinks you’re cute,” Kiyoko says, suddenly stiffer when she talks. “He asked if you were going to go out with us tomorrow night.”

She doesn’t know who Noya is. She probably should. He’s probably someone that she’s met more than once. But she can’t conjure up the face that’s supposed to go with the name. “Which one’s he?” she asks, well past the point of caring if she seems rude to Kiyoko.

Kiyoko knows she’s rude, at this point.

“The short one,” she answers. “The one with the blond in his hair.”

Her pen digs into the notebook paper, adding shading around a blown-up chunk of earth. “Yeah, he’s cute, I guess.”

Kiyoko makes a noise of acknowledgement. “But you’re not into him.”

It’s not a question, so she doesn’t answer it. Kiyoko sighs, and rocks on her heel. “That’s fair. As long as it’s because you’re actually not into him, and not because you’re not over Iwaizumi.”

Hearing his name spoken so casually makes her flinch. Kiyoko notices and leans her head down on her shoulder. “Well, we’ll get there.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

At her lowest point, she calls her father.

She dials his number so many times she loses track of it. She stares at the numbers for so long they start to lose meaning. When she closes her eyes, she sees them burned into the inside of her eyelids. She hits ‘call,’ and then hangs up, only to dial him right back up again.

She doesn’t know what she’s doing, and definitely not why. She just sort of acts, moved by impulse and a craving for something unknown.

It rings. It rings three times before he answers. His phone is gruff and worn on the other line. “Hello?”

Her hand slaps over her mouth, and she tries to quiet her breathing, like she’s hiding from him. Her eyes prick and burn. “Hello?” he repeats on the other end, more impatient this time. Her heart pounds like he’s just on the other side of the door. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.

“Fucking hell,” is the last thing she hears before the line goes dead. The phone clatters to the floor of her bedroom, and she cries. The first time she’s cried like this in months.

She really doesn’t know what she’s doing.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Most of her time is spent lying in her bed, doing nothing, thinking about everything. Sometimes she goes along with Kiyoko when she goes out with her friends, and she sits in the corner and tries not to draw too much attention to herself. She hates that. Sometimes she tries to pick up extra shifts at work just to pass the time. She hates that too. Sometimes she goes to this cheap dive bar just two blocks away from her new apartment, just to have a drink or two in a place that’s not her bedroom.

She orders a second drink. It’s bone-chilling cold outside, and the alcohol makes her feel warmer. Just a bit. She thinks it’s sad that this is the most exciting part of her week.

At least the festering rot that tore her up from the inside was interesting. Now her life is boring and depressing.

The call of her name is sudden and jarring. She spins around in the barstool with an elevated heartrate and her fingers reaching for her keys. She doesn’t recognize him, at first. When her eyes first land on him, she continues looking for a second, before it catches up to her. Her heart leaps up to her throat. “Matsukawa?”

Matsukawa chugs, his head tilted back and his Adam’s apple bobbing, downing the pint until there’s nothing left but traces of white foam. Her fingers tap against her own glass, looking at the condensation that leaves a ring around the wooden bar. It reminds her of the plastic cups of coffee Iwa brought her daily. She didn’t drink coffee before that. Now every morning she finds herself crawling out of bed at eight in the goddamn morning, throwing on whatever clothes are on her floor so she can get to the closest coffee shop before it gets too busy.

“Is he over me yet?” she asks, tips of her fingers collecting droplets of condensation.

Matsukawa slams his glass down on the bar. “Nah.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Not even a little. Iwa’ll never get over you.”

Her eyes roll. Matsukawa sees this and narrows his own. “Don’t think I don’t mean it.”

There’s an awkwardness that hangs between them. She takes a sip of her own drink and swishes it over her tongue, trying to distract from it. “He’s got a long time to.”

“Doesn’t matter. I know him. You were it.”

“Then he shouldn’t have left me.”

She says this, she realizes, with familiarity, the kind that no longer exists between her and Matsukawa. She hasn’t seen him since her father’s blood was on her hands. Any closes between them granted by the lifesaving has since evaporated, and now, they’re as good as strangers. At least to her.

Still, Matsukawa leans back in the bar stool. “Yeah, he probably shouldn’t have.”

She shifts in her seat uncomfortably. It would’ve been better if he argued. “Yeah,” is all she can manage, her fire dulled.

“You don’t look like you’re doing that much better than he is,” Matsukawa remarks, and she offers no reaction. It’s not like he’s wrong. “You two are both idiots. You’re perfect for each other.”

Her lip furls up. “You got a lot of fucking opinions on this.”

“Hard not to. Iwa’s heartbreak is everyone’s problem.”

Iwa’s heartbreak. She doesn’t like the implication of it. Like it’s just his. Like it’s nothing something he caused for her. Like it’s not something they share.

“C’mon,” Matsukawa says, hand clapping on her back, like he can see the thoughts brewing in her head, and he wants to cut her off before they can work their way over to him, “let me walk you home.”

He does. He walks her home and he talks about his recovery post-stabbing and he rants about Oikawa and he talks about this girl he’s been talking to that he’s not really that into and he talks about how good Makki’s been looking lately but he doesn’t ask about her and he doesn’t bring up Iwaizumi again.

At least that she’s grateful for.

And when he deposits her at her front door, he grins, and tells her that he’ll see her later.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

It’s snowing. She stands outside of his apartment, box in her hands and something caught in her throat. It’s been a few weeks since she’s seen Matsukawa, and she’s done little but think about him and what he said and fixate on it and let it gnaw away at her.

So she’s outside Iwaizumi’s apartment, snow getting stuck in her hair and fingers going numb.

Her list of problems doesn’t really exist anymore. They’re not as material, harder to pin down. Her anger issues have simmered down into this lethargic mood that has much less daily wear and tear. The split rent and the consistent income have dissipated the money problems. She doesn’t worry about things the way she used to. Things don’t really plague her the way they used to.

It’s really just him. It’s really just Iwaizumi.

She sighs. It was easier in her head. Everything’s always easier in her head.

Now that she’s here, all she can think about is everything that can go wrong. Matsukawa being wrong, and Iwaizumi being over her, so much so that he’s not even moved at the sight of her and there’s already someone else in there warming up her side of the bed. He could be working. He could hate her. It could go as badly as it did last time.

Kiyoko disapproved of the plan. Kiyoko wanted her to move on. She wanted her to find a life outside of Iwaizumi, purpose outside of him, drive outside of him.

But people like Kiyoko don’t get it. People like Kiyoko don’t know what it’s like to be infected with something so consuming and persistent and chronic. Kiyoko doesn’t get it. Iwaizumi gets it.

He gets it.

She inhales slowly, and forces herself to move forward.

Breaking into the front door of her old apartment building is something she’s done more times than she’s proud of. It’s oddly nostalgic to pop that old lock open, and it feels the same as she creeps up the stairs. It was like this when she first moved in. Bitter, winter air floating up the stairs like all the windows were left open. She remembers shaking as she hauled up trash bags of her belongings, and taking breaks to wrap herself up in the first blanket she could unpack.

She feels that way now as she stomps up the stairs, the bottom of her boots heavy against the wood. She wonders if he can hear her coming.

By the time she reaches the top of the stairs, her hands are trembling, and she’s slightly out of breath. She takes a moment to catch it before she’s shifting the box to hold in one hand, and she knocks. She does it before she has the chance to talk herself out of it.

The door swings open sooner than she thought it would, like Iwaizumi was just standing there on the other side, waiting for her. Waiting for her this whole time.

When she sees him, she holds her breath. She holds her breath as she counts the one, two three, four bruises and the one, two, three cuts that decorate his features. He’s paler than he was before. The bags under his eyes are darker.

Still, he looks pretty. She always thinks he looks pretty.

His reaction to her, standing at his doorstep after six months, is the same as his reaction to everything else. His brow slightly furrowed, mouth curled up in something that looks like annoyance. She’s not surprised when he doesn’t say anything.

“Um, hey,” is how she starts out. It makes her flinch. “I’m sorry to just like, pop up out of nowhere but, I just kinda wanted to see you. I, erm, I missed you. A lot.”

Iwaizumi says nothing to this either. She feels oddly like she is shooting herself in the foot, and she loses the ability to look him in the eye.

“I feel really bad about how everything went down,” she confesses, now staring at her shoes. He’s still looking at her, she can feel it. “I’ m not proud of the things I said or how I acted. I don’t-I don’t hate you, not at all.”

She thinks she can see his chest rise and fall with heavy, deliberate breaths. But she’s not sure. Could be imagining it. The corners of her vision are starting to blur. She holds the box up to him.

A CD player. Brand new. The same one he got her.

“I got you this. As a sorry. I felt like shit for breaking the one you got me. I feel like shit for a lot of it, but that gift meant a lot to me. Just like you do. And I break things a lot and I have a lot of issues and I don’t think you-“

She does not get to finish her sentence. Iwaizumi grabs her by the arm and pulls her into her chest. The force knocks the box out of her hands, and CD player slams to the ground between them. Before she can realize what’s happened, her feet are hovering above the floor, and Iwaizumi’s arms are tight around her.

It’s automatic, the way she returns the embrace. Her arms snake around his middle, and she leans her head against his chest. She started crying at one point, without realizing it.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Iwaizumi says, pressing his face into the top of her head, lips kissing her hair between words. “You have no fucking idea how sorry I am.”

She does, because she feels it. It gnaws away at her chest the same way it does to his. She shakes her head. “I get it,” she tells him. “I know it.”

“Please say,” Iwaizumi pleads. “Please. I would do anything for you to stay.”

If she were someone like Kiyoko, she would say no. She would leave. She wouldn’t have ever come back. Because she knows, she knows that Iwaizumi is not going to change. He’s not going to become someone different overnight, or over six months, or a year or a dozen. Iwaizumi is always going to be who he was the day that she met him.

People like your father only care about one thing. And it’s not you, and it’s not me.

She holds onto him tighter, and thinks that that’s okay. She is too. “I’ll stay,” she promises. “I’m not going anywhere.”

an: ok let’s try this again

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @pinkiscool @michivrse @cannibalsrider @kmwife @k8nicole @oikasenpai @fennecnco @riousluvs @bellamsby @rinheartshyunlix @bae-ashlynn @ephemeralninon @fangsbb @plumarbre @v-e-r-t21 @snail-squasher @seroh @mfcherry @canthavetoomuchchaos @ange1icarch1ve @applepi25 @wqnsho @19calicos @girlkissersco @Lisoozi @bailey-reeds @kitskasoboring @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @kinsies-blog @1lovestrawberrymilk

[karinasbaby]

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 — FORESHADOW (teaser)

"we can still meet, we will connect no matter what"

PAIRING. soulmate!jake x fem!reader

WARNINGS.(will contain) some supernatural stuff, my second miserable attempt at angst & fluff, suggestive content, mentions of family problems/trauma, drinking, fights, cursing, and a lot of one-night stands (for now),

WORD COUNT. 585 (looks away)

in a world where every person is born with numbers of a birthdate engraved in the back of their necks, where every person dreams of their future memories with their other half that the universe had created for them, where on every person's eighteenth birthday they get certain and special initials marked somewhere on their body— all belonging to their soulmate.

sim jaeyun was lost in a daydream,

reminiscing his previous night's memories, heat flooding back to his face as he remembered every second of his dream, he had finally seen his soulmate again,

heart drumming once he recalled how smooth his soulmate's locks felt beneath his fingertips when he carefully raked them through her hair, how soft his soulmate's voice sounded when she called so sweetly for him, just how much her presence affected him even when he never got the chance to see her face properly,

to say that jaeyun was "excited" would be an absolute understatement, the boy was over the moon any and every time he thought about his soulmate, his eyes twinkled whenever the topic of 'soulmates' was brought up around him, loving and longing gaze following every couple he spotted outside, his heart thundering in his chest every night before he went to sleep, will he see his soulmate again tonight?

truth was, jaeyun yearned and craved for a love as pure and tender as his parents' soulmate bond, growing up in a house bursting with affection and joy along with his parents' overflowing love for each other that only seemed to be getting stronger and increasing with each passing decade, only made jaeyun look forward to his own soulmate and how his life would be with her,

how he was so prepared to give all the love in his body to her, spending each and every passing second with his soulmate was something he daydreamed about often, he was so ready to devote himself entirely, body, mind and soul for his soulmate, question was when will he finally meet her?

growing up and hearing myths that got passed around for centuries, the most prevalent one stating that "every person's birth country has a high chance of seventy-five percent of being the same birth country as their soulmate", which resulted in jaeyun refusing to budge away from his birth country, only travelling with his parents for short vacations before he begs them to buy earlier tickets so he can go back,

jaeyun woke up everyday with the phrase "this might be the day that i meet her." ringing in his head continuously till night, finding a different kind of energy that motivates him throughout his day at the mere possibility of his soulmate passing by him any second,

whenever thoughts of his soulmate occupied him completely, with wonder about her whereabouts, what she could possibly be doing at the moment, led jaeyun to turn towards a piece of paper and a pen to empty his system of all of his thoughts and overflowing emotions,

which resulted in this routine becoming some sort of coping mechanism for him when he felt like he was being drowned by his overthinking of his soulmate avoiding him, not wanting to meet him, or worse deciding to end their connection,

and this led to jaeyun having two boxes filled with his 'love letters' stuffed away at the corner of his room, thinking that maybe in the future his soulmate will read them and find his words and worry somewhat amusing,

but what if his soulmate truly didn't want to meet him?

A, NOTE. if this isn't out till the end of november like the 20-25 then i wish we would all collectively forget about it <3

(feb 2024 update): i’m still working on it !!

[skyward-floored]

I think I’m coming down with a cold again and possibly have a fever but I’m here to scream about the update some more anyway! (and analyze a bit but mostly scream). Dawn part 7 here we go!

(All images belong to @linkeduniverse <3)

First off I have to say this was my favorite panel I think, it’s so pretty. The faint glow! The colors! The cape over his shoulder! Amazing. This truly was Sky’s update, I loved every bit of focus he got. Jojo fed us well :D

So it looks like I was wrong about Sky reading everyone’s mail. He just immediately took off after the mailman instead (and spent all morning chasing him ha!),

Side note but I love the npc guy. He’s simple but still Zelda-y. the character design in this comic is just👌

Looks like the mailman has a list of who he’s supposed to deliver to, or at least that’s my guess. It could be a map maybe, but that probably wouldn’t do much good since he’s time traveling?? How does he do it. Don’t question the magic of the postman I guess.

*green hill zone music intensifies*

Shoutout to Sky’s face here, I make the same expression when I’m trying to chase after my nephew and stop him from eating crayons

This looks like a postcard no joke, I'd frame this and put it on my wall. Plus the way the trees were done in the background is really neat, there’s something just really pleasing about this panel. Also the return of Sky: Just Standing There

They’re all bein silly <3

...except for Four. Because I think him and Warriors both realize that Sky isn’t just telling them what he was doing all morning— he’s got something important to say, something they all actually need to know.

(Downfall duo laughing together I love them)

Also I agree with everyone saying Warriors is close to snapping— they’ve all had a pretty stressful 24 hours, but Warriors has been breaking up arguments and repeatedly checking on everyone while they’re struggling, and... I don’t think he’s had a break. Take a nap bud, please?

SKY TALKING TO FI MY BELOVED he's hoping there’s enough of her aware to help him dowse hhhhh. And then he’s so sad she didn’t seem to hear him waahhh 😭

It doesn’t look to me like she truly helped much, but maybe Fi gave just enough of a nudge for Sky to find the postman’s footprints? Even in her sleep? She is glowing just a bit there... Interesting to think about.

It’s confirmed that the postman uses the portals! And that the Shadow is alive and kicking! Uh-oh! (Also does anyone else think this one seems more... firey? Then the last one? Maybe it's just me).

And the chopped-off darknut head is still there too.... and I’ll bet you twenty rupees somebody is going to kick it when the Links go through the portal later. (My guess is Wild but I’d put my money on Legend or Wind too).

I’m also really curious where that portal leads... My guess is either Twilight’s Hyrule or Sky’s, based on what hints we’ve been getting, but I really don’t know. It’ll be fun to see!

*Wind rapidly thinking of at least three conspiracy theories*: SUS

Also an amazing expression from him I’m laughing so hard, he really said 3:<

Tag yourself I’m Four

Also Sky just chugging away at the stamina potion, poor guy XD he must be beat from all that running around, I hope he has some more time to sit before the Links get moving.

(And I mentioned this in another post, but Legend looks so alarmed at this information, as does Wild... it’s not going to be pretty when they cross paths with the Shadow again, that’s for sure)

I love when Time breaks out the dramatic language... makes me remember that this guy is going to be the Hero’s Shade someday (who’s speech is 99% dramatic things).

Now the Links just have to decide what to do next... will they stay another day at the inn for Twilight’s sake, or get moving right away? Is Four going to confront Twilight about the dark magic he uses to turn into Wolfie?

So many questions... but in the meantime I will gladly continue to reread this amazing update, I really loved this one :D

[midnightsslut]

the whole cardigan/Peter parallels are messing my head can u explain

okay so peter is actually one of my favorite songs on the album for this reason! I think it has parallels to a lot of other songs, not just cardigan. the first thing to get out of the way is the cardigan lyric about peter and wendy: ‘tried to change the ending, peter losing wendy.’ now, that line doesn’t make a ton of sense because peter losing wendy is the ending of peter pan (idk I’ve never seen it and never thought I’d spend this long thinking about them), but I think what she’s saying is that he tried to change the ending of *their* story to peter losing wendy. peter loses her because she outgrows him, while he remains a ‘lost boy’ forever. the cardigan demo has an alternate lyric where peter actually *leaves* wendy. this does not happen in the original story, and to me, it reads like betty (eh, I don’t think those characters existed when she wrote that song, but bear with me) is accusing him of trying to change their fate by leaving her. peter is meant to always come back to wendy. *she* is the one who eventually leaves him. either way, cardigan ends with them together. yay for betty and/or taylor.

now, peter was written 3-4 years later, and it is the conclusion of a story about outgrowing someone despite truly wanting them back. the ending was not, in fact, changed. she did outgrow him. very sad. I actually want to go lyric by lyric, but I’ll put a cut just in case.

Forgive me Peter

My lost fearless leader

In closets like cedar

Preserved from when we were just kids

Is it something I did

the song starts with taylor trying to figure out what went wrong. did she do something wrong to crush these dreams of theirs? she kept him in a closet of cedar (where unmarried women kept their belongings that they would want to take with them after getting married) in her mind, but things didn’t work out anyway. the first line being ‘forgive me, peter’ indicates that she is the one who pulled the plug, and she’s apologizing for it. again, she isn’t entirely sure what went wrong, which, to me, is a clear parallel to how did it end.

The goddess of timing

Once found us beguiling

She said she was trying

Peter was she lying

My ribs get the feeling she did

when they first met, the timing seemed to be perfect for their relationship (‘the goddess of timing *once* found us beguiling’), but that didn’t last. the goddess of timing claimed that she tried, but nothing could save them. taylor even wonders if she lied, which suggests a lack of faith in higher powers like fate or deities. this verse introduces timing as a major conflict in the story. ‘are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these?’

Said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Words from the mouths of babes

Promises, oceans deep

But never to keep

peter went away, but he promised to come down once he was ready for a relationship. yes, this kind of applies to both of the main storylines on the album. you could take this to mean that they actually broke up a decade ago but promised to get back together, or you could assume there was some sort of break to their relationship, which she and joe did have. i kind of took it to mean that he wasn’t fully committed to the relationship, but he promised to be eventually. again, the renegade lyric, but also ‘i’m a fire, and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm if your cascade ocean wave blues come’ and ‘I’d hold you as the water rushes in,’ both of which are grand promises that neither party could keep.

Are you still a mind reader?

A natural scene stealer

I've heard great things Peter

But life was always easier on you

Than it was on me

he is charismatic. his magnetic field is a little too strong. he can read people. but he’s also fragile and inexperienced (‘he was a hothouse flower to my outdoorsman’). he may be able to read people, but things have been way too easy for him to ever understand a truly hurt person fully.

And sometimes it gets me

When crossing your jet stream

We both did the best we could do underneath the same moon

In different galaxies

And I didn't want to hang around

We said it was just goodbye for now

this is the thesis statement of their relationship to me. obviously, there’s the call it what you want parallel, but more importantly, it shows that the two people really wanted this to work. they just came from completely different places in their lives and perhaps the entire universe. this verse seems to reference the epilogue (‘resentment rotting away galaxies we created’ / ‘some stars never align’). they learned the right steps to different dances, if you will. she knew he needed time, so she left temporarily.

And I won't confess that I waited

But I let the lamp burn

As the men masqueraded

I hoped you'd return

With your feet on the ground

Tell me all that you'd learned

Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned

she does get with other men, but she keeps longing for him. she wishes that he would return with a grasp on reality and be the man she needs. if anything, the time away would give him the perspective he needs to ground himself. interesting parallel to ‘I said I don’t mind / it takes time’ in loml.

And you said you'd come and get me but you were 25

And the shelf life of those fantasies has expired

Lost to the lost boys chapter of your life

Forgive me Peter, please know that I tried

To hold onto the days when you were mine

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light

this is just devastating to me. well, first of all, both matty and joe were 25 when they first met her, which, lol. the dreams they had together have expired now. it’s been too long. she cannot keep holding onto a love from almost a decade ago. he took too long to return. he lost his lifelong dreams to what was only supposed to be a chapter of his life. she tried to hold onto the days when he was hers, and everything was right, but she had to turn out the light at some point. this is the moment when she gives up on their relationship. she apologizes for abandoning the ship, but she must do it.

overall, I think peter is a story about two people who genuinely did everything they could to be together, but their needs and their growth no longer aligned. there’s a sense of acceptance and lingering fondness here. she did everything she could not to bolt, but the ending was the same.

[office-to-fantasy]

TW // Hello how are you? Hope you are well, if your mailbox//question is open, is it okay to order?

I read this post about Ruki, can you write part one? I mean, I wrote before where he wants s/o to talk to him after he broke it, I want you to write how he breaks it like you did with Reiji and Shu, if you don't mind?

In the end, he finds that he has exaggerated his reaction//regret, so he decides to treat her wounds and disagree every time, this time she lost the feeling of pain//does not feel the pain (he will not kill her)

Thank you very much, I love your writing💚♪

[Took me a while to get to it. Shorter than what I’m used to but I hope quality over quantity can apply here! Enjoy <3!]

Ruki Mukami x Fem!Reader

It had become unbearable. Every scratch he left felt like an eternal scar, something to remind you that you should’ve never gotten near him.

You winced, his fingers wrapping around your jaw so tightly you’d fear it’d break under his strength. Your eyes looked up at him, but it had been useless.

For weeks, those eyes were not the ones you’d fallen for.

They were cruel and hateful.

He jerked your face to the side, finally letting you go. It was a miracle he hadn’t broken your neck, but you definitely felt something pop.

“Ruki…” you began pleadingly, turning to him as you caught his eyes already on you, glaring at you. “Please…”

“Your pleas mean nothing when I already know of the disgusting acts you’ve done.” He picked up a long metal bar, walking towards you.

Your body shook, gripping the chains that held your wrists tightly. “I already told you, they forced themselves on me, please!!” You begged, your voice shaking with every word and rushing to get them out.

He’d seen the moment you were taken from him and tried to stop it, failing as he watched them drink from your neck…

And you just took it.

You really were just livestock.

You were so disgusting for letting them do that to you, he almost couldn’t even look at you. Knowing their teeth had ever sunk into your skin made him almost repulsed by you, but maybe if he punished you then you’d learn your lesson.

Maybe then you’d be his again.

His grip on the metal bar got tighter.

Perhaps it was my fault.

The thought was brief for him, but it was there.

No, her being taken was not my fault… it couldn’t have been…

You scrambled on the floor, your whole body aching from the bruising and the rough handling, but you had to… get away from him?

No…

Your heart ached, truly ached since the start of all this… despite every hit and every shove from him, you’d never once felt the want to get away from him. Your heart belonged to him and you never thought twice about it, until now.

You felt every part of you begging to be released from this, to get far away from him and whatever he was planning to do next. Anything to just be anywhere but in this moment.

Wasn’t it natural? To want to escape treatment like this? From someone who could hurt you like this? From someone who clearly didn’t love you anymore..?

Isn’t it natural to run from what hurts you?

To wish for escape?

To want better for yourself?

And despite your love for him, was it not much more cruel for him to do this to you than for you to decide you didn’t want to be treated this way?

Who was hurting who more? Really…

Your eyes looked up once more, as though using the last ounce of an energy you didn’t know you had left…

They looked into his; unloving, cold, and cruel.

A warm breath escaped your cracked lips, like a tired and shallow sigh after battle, it all disappeared in an instant.

The pain stopped.

It was peaceful enough to cry… but you couldn’t… not in the state you were in…

Everything was so quiet, and Ruki was there, but with that charming smile he’d give you when he was preparing to give you a night of fun.

It felt so nice.

But the bruise forming on your rib would be there, now, and whenever he'd need a reminder of what he’d done to you.

The metal clanged on the floor at your silence.

“Livestock?”

[deepspacedukat]

Misfit Toys - Part 3

Alright! Here's the conclusion! I hope you all enjoyed reading this little fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💖 There are a few unintended side things that happen in this chapter, but I hope y'all will enjoy it anyway!! By that I mean whoops I accidentally created yet another OC.

Part 1 here. Part 2 here.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Tokath (ST:TNG) x Reader

[A/N: This is smut adjacent, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies romance, Human/Romulan romance, implied interspecies sex, implied Human/Romulan sex, mutual pining, they're idiots who think it's unrequited, it's VERY requited, flirting, some almost kisses, getting lokblocked, literally everyone can tell they're in love except them, they are the last people to find out about each other's feelings.

~*~

I hadn't needed Tokath's crutch in nearly a month, but it had earned a place of honor. Resting lovingly on a bookshelf in my bedroom, it served as a reminder of the progress I'd made...and of the fact that I now had somewhere that I belonged.

After all this time, it still felt strange to know that I had a home this amazing. The reaction to the news that I'd decided to stay instead of boarding the transport and leaving the Carraya system had been so joyful on the part of my new friends that I'd been moved to tears. None of them had been irritated that I'd chosen to remain with them.

Ta'lana even clapped a hand on my shoulder and grinned as she offered me a permanent position helping her concoct her salves. I accepted, of course. How could I not? Her companionship was so easy and natural that I'd have been a fool to refuse. Not to mention I owed her and Tokath my life for healing me after the crash.

Speaking of Tokath, as soon as he gave me permission to stay, I felt as though a weight had been lifted from my chest. There was no longer a lingering feeling of guilt and selfishness resonating through me every time I stole a glance at him. Oh sure, I was still on the verge of berating myself for behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush, but I'd realized that since I was now a permanent resident in this settlement, I had every right to live however I chose. If I wanted to bask in the warmth of the Romulan Commander's smiles, then that was exactly what I'd do.

I was afforded that opportunity quite often. More often than not, we managed to sneak in a little time together in the mornings before the day truly got started. Even if it was just enough time for us to share a cup of tea and breakfast, Tokath and I always seemed to gravitate toward each other.

There were still plenty of mornings where we woke up in each other's arms on the sofa in his study, and those were admittedly my favorites. He was nearly always awake before I was, but he never moved to get up first. The lingering caresses left on my skin before the break of dawn made me wish that I was a more courageous person. More than once I came incredibly close to blurting out my feelings for him in those slow, gentle morning hours. It was a wonder that he hadn't yet noticed.

There was definitely a slight shift in our relationship when I begged him to allow me to stay, though I couldn't define what it was. Our interactions were just as they were before but the burden on his shoulders seemed...lighter, somehow, despite the addition of a new member of the community. Maybe he just liked having a friend with a new perspective to discuss...

If only he knew how much that new friend wanted to kiss him when the morning sunlight poured in through the study window and glittered in his eyes. Resting atop his sturdy chest, half-dazed and half-witted from having just woken up, the temptation was almost overwhelming most mornings. Instead, I would simply nuzzle farther into his chest or the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent until I was certain I could trust myself to look into his eyes again.

One of those mornings, the rain cascaded down, splattering against the windows and creating a soothing rhythm against the roof. I was loathe to get up, and Tokath seemed even less inclined to do so, until a knock sounded at the door.

With matching pair of begrudging sounds, the two of us sat up, and Tokath called for whoever it was to come in. Belatedly, I realized how bedraggled we must look. M'Ven took a single step inside, saw our mussed hair and state of dress, and blushed as he delivered his message.

"My apologies for the intrusion, sir, but I thought you might like to know that your daughter's shuttle has just entered sensor range. She should be here within the hour." Almost as soon as he'd finished speaking, M'Ven tossed me a friendly wink and left us to our own devices.

A joyful smile spread across the Commander's lips as he turned to me.

"You and Ba'el would get along so well! Would you like to come with me to greet her?" He looked so hopeful. How could I possibly refuse? Without a single thought, I reached up and brushed a few errant strands of hair behind his ear. When his hand covered mine against the side of his face, I realized how close we still were to each other.

Oh, the urge to kiss him was back stronger than ever!

"I wouldn't want to intrude on your time with her–"

"Hush, e'lev. You could never intrude," he said, "and if you're not uncomfortable with the notion, I'd love for you to be there."

Tokath's hand kept mine firmly in place while I took a deep breath.

"I'd be honored." If I thought his smiles had been beautiful before, I'd clearly never seen him this utterly filled with joy. Tugging me into a crushing hug, the Commander let out a relieved breath. Did he really think I'd refuse?

After having bathed and changed into clean clothes, we arrived at a clearing in the woods that Tokath called the 'landing strip' just in time to see his daughter's shuttle touch down. The rain had stopped just a few minutes before, giving way to a thick, murky fog. Almost as soon as the shuttle's engines cut off, he was striding toward the door of the small craft.

This must've been something of a routine for them, because the young woman practically threw herself into his arms, sending the pair into a fit of giggles. I hung back just a bit to give them space. Despite Tokath's earlier protests, I was determined not to intrude on their reunion.

"You should've told me you were coming! I'd have prepared a welcome party," he said, and at her protests, I turned my attention to Ba'el's ship, trying to give them some semblance of privacy. The vessel seemed to be Klingon in design, so I assumed she'd acquired it or borrowed it while on the homeworld that she'd gone to explore - Tokath told me all about the incident with a Starfleet officer and the minor revolt that led to some of the younger members of the colony striking out on their own. More power to them. It took a lot to leave the only place you'd ever known in search of entirely new places.

"Oh, hi!" Ba'el's cheerful voice sounded, and I turned my head to meet her smile with one of my own. I gave a little wave as the pair walked over.

"Ah, this is our newest resident," Tokath said introducing me. Rather than a more subdued greeting as I'd expected, Ba'el glanced between her father and myself, then wrapped me in a tight hug. I'd expected apprehension or maybe something a bit more confrontational, but, really, that was silly. She was Tokath's daughter, and he was one of the kindest people I'd ever met. It only stood to reason that his daughter would be at least partially similar in temperament.

"This place is so secluded! How in the stars did you end up here?" She asked as she pulled back and grasped my shoulders.

"Well, it's a long story–"

"One that even I have not yet managed to coax from her," Tokath cut in as he wrapped an arm around my waist and smiled playfully down at me.

"–but it's not a terribly interesting one. I boarded the wrong transport at the wrong time, that's all," I finished with a shrug, ducking my head to escape the warmth of his gaze before I combusted completely.

"Oh, the 'wrong time' was it? And here I thought you liked it here, e'lev." He was teasing me, I knew he was, but I still didn't want him to have the wrong impression.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I love living here! This place is the best thing that ever happened to me. I-I just–" Tokath's gentle, rolling laughter engulfed me just as his arms did, cutting off my rambling protests.

"Do you really think I don't know how you feel about that by now?" When I simply buried my face in his tunic and made a noncommittal sound, he gave me a nice, big squeeze. "Come on. Let's all get back to the compound before we freeze in this dreary weather."

--

Dinner that night was a joyful affair. Stepped up from the usual fare into something more celebratory, the whole colony was ecstatic to welcome back one of their own, even if it was only for a short time. Though she was only planning on staying for a couple of weeks, Ba'el's presence brought a sparkle into the hall. Her lightheartedness and genuine wonder about the things she'd seen in her travels brought smiles to everyone's faces - including a rather pointed attentiveness from Centurion M'Ven that I noticed.

Eventually, the meal drew to a close, but before Tokath could protest, his daughter looped her arm around mine and stole me away into the quiet evening air. Stopping at the same little pond where her father had first told me of the transport, Ba'el tugged me down next to her on the bench to sit with her. We were both silent for a few moments, watching the water ripple in the bond as a slight breeze caressed its surface. When she spoke, her voice was so soft that it almost slipped away amidst the trees' rustling leaves.

"When I was little, my parents used to bring me here every day. I'd run around and play, and they'd sit here together on this bench. On the days when I didn't need others for the silly games I played, they kept their own company. Sometimes they talked, sometimes my father would read her a book, and sometimes, if the atmosphere was right, they'd end up roaring with laughter over some joke they'd shared," she murmured. A nostalgic little smile stretched her lips, and a far away sort of look settled itself firmly onto her face. "When I got older, they trusted me to come here alone, and I took to exploring the gardens. I knew every rock and tree - they were my friends, as silly as that sounds. I miss this place more than any other when I'm off exploring the galaxy."

I listened carefully, and a wave of gratitude washed through me for the glimpse she was giving me into both her past and her father's. It must've taken a lot for her to share something so personal with me.

"The last time I was home, M'Ven saw me come here. He followed me one night...gave me a bouquet of his own hybrid flowers - he tends them religiously, so you couldn't have missed them," she said, and with a conspiratorial lean in, she continued. "He's asked me to be his mate."

I wasn't exactly surprised. The glowing smiles he gave her at dinner and his near constant blushing sort of gave it away.

"Does your father know?"

"Not yet, no. I'm going to tell him in a couple of days, though, I promise. M'Ven was the first born here. I think his mother was in the early stages of pregnancy before the battle and just didn't know it yet," Ba'el explained. "He's not officially a Centurion, of course. He wears the uniform, and he was trained by the officers here, but the Romulan government doesn't know anything about him."

She paused for a moment, allowing the weight of her words wash over me.

"We agreed that this year when I came home, if I still felt the same for him, he'd come with me on my next trip. It'll be a little more risky traveling together, but we'll manage. After that, when we come home next year, we're going to stay and build a life together," she said letting out a giggle that was so infectious that I couldn't help but join her. "So what about you? I assume that you and Papa are going to stop dancing around each other sometime this decade...?"

"I-I don't know what you mean." Stammering certainly didn't help my case, but the laugh that left her throat told me that she wouldn't have believed me even if I'd sounded perfectly confident. "Ba'el, I...I do love your father, but I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable–"

"What are you talking about? I haven't seen him this happy in years! Last year I was so worried about him that I stayed for a month instead of my usual couple of weeks. He practically had to kick me out." She gripped my forearms gently and looked into my eyes. "I'm happy for you. When one of you finally works up the courage to talk about your feelings, I'll be the first person to celebrate. You're good for him, and, from what I can see, he's good for you."

Relief, palpable and potent, rushed through me, and I hugged Ba'el to hide the tears that had gathered in my eyes. We sat by the pond, talking and joking until the unmistakable sound of footsteps met our ears. We both turned in time to see M'Ven rounding one of the larger trees with a bouquet in hand. He caught sight of us and froze - he'd clearly been coming to meet Ba'el, but my presence startled him, the poor lad.

Ba'el beckoned him over, and the bob of his Adam's apple in his throat as he swallowed betrayed the confident air he'd clearly been trying to exude.

"Calm down, she knows. I told her," Ba'el said as I smiled and got to my feet.

"I also know when it's my cue to leave." Giving poor, startled M'Ven a wink, I started to walk away and give them some privacy. Before I got out of earshot, though, I turned back and called his name. "I think it goes without saying that you'd better be good to her."

Resolve straightened his back and lifted his chin.

"I will, lhhei, you have my word." With that promise obtained, I left them to their own devices, and, though I'd intended to go to my room and sleep, my feet carried me to Tokath's study seemingly of their own volition.

The door was already open, revealing the man in question sitting at his desk and staring into a cup of tea as if it held the answers to life itself. I wanted so badly to kiss the little furrow between his eyebrows and the lines on either side of his mouth...

As if my gaze had called out to him, his eyes lifted from the depths of his tea and caught me hovering in the doorway. His features melted seamlessly from from surprised to relieved to elated in barely a flash.

"Ah, so I haven't been abandoned for the evening, then," he teased as I closed the door behind me. Tokath leaned back in his chair, and I noticed for that there was a second cup of tea sitting on the desk.

"As if I could stay away from you, Commander." Walking over to his desk, I leaned against the polished surface and glanced at his bookshelves for the thousandth time. I knew very well which titles sat on the shelves - even the Klingon ones - but I needed somewhere to look other than at his gorgeous face. "Forgive me for being late. Ba'el and I were talking."

"So that's where you were! I turned to speak with L'Kor for barely a moment after dinner, but when I turned back, my two favorite ladies were nowhere to be found," he said placing a hand over his heart and pouting as if he was deeply wounded. "I thought for a moment you'd been stolen away. I noticed that M'Ven disappeared after a while, as well. I couldn't help but wonder..."

As he trailed off, I felt a brief surge of hope. L'Kor's words and Ba'el's floated into my brain. Maybe they were right. Maybe I did have a chance, after all.

"M'Ven is kind, and he is a friend of mine, but I wouldn't give up your company for his." With my reassurance putting his mind at ease, Tokath grasped my hands and smiled up at me.

"Forgive me, e'lev, I shouldn't be this greedy with you."

Freeing one of my hands, I rested it lightly on his chest.

"There's nothing to forgive. You can be as greedy with me as you want, Tokath," I murmured, and just like that I found myself lost in his gaze. There was a softness in his features when he looked at me, a vulnerability that made me want to wrap him in my arms and never let go. It went through my mind that I could tell him. I could kiss him there, right then, while that gentle trance had us so firmly in its grip, but I couldn't seem to make my mouth move.

"The tea...I'm sorry, it's probably cold by now." His voice was so rough when he spoke that he sounded as though there was gravel in his throat. I could hardly blame him, though. When I spoke, I sounded just as destroyed.

"It's okay. How many evenings have we talked so long that we forgot we even had tea to begin with?" He let out a quiet laugh at my question, and we fell into our usual rhythm of conversation. Before we drifted off together, though, I promised myself that before his daughter left with her own lover, I'd tell Tokath how I felt. If shy, reserved, dutiful M'Ven could ask the woman he loved to be with him, I could tell Tokath how much I adored him.

--

"She matches this little community of misfits well, doesn't she?" The rough voice of his co-leader sounded from just behind Tokath's right shoulder. L'Kor was observing the group of small children on the other side of the courtyard that were listening intently to a story that the Human woman was telling them. "The children like her, their parents trust her...she has even befriended Ta'lana. It's as if she's been here all her life."

"She did say that she felt more at home here than anywhere else," Tokath mused as he watched one of the youngest - a brave Klingon girl of no more than three - climb onto her lap. He couldn't stop himself from smiling at the ease with which she handled life in the colony.

The Klingon leader hummed quietly and they watched as the children begged her to show them a Human game.

"You see it now, do you not, old friend?" L'Kor asked as he and Tokath watched her explain how to play game. She said that it was one that children of her species played called 'hide and seek.' As soon as she turned her back on the giggling group of little ones, they promptly scurried away as she began to count.

"I don't know what you mean," Tokath murmured, but the aged Klingon let out a rough, disbelieving laugh.

"Yes, you do. Whether you wish to admit it or not, you look at that kyamo Human woman, and you feel young again," he rasped as a tiny Romulan boy sped past their feet. "You cannot hide it from me, Tokath. I know you too well. Since she crashed into our lives, you have become more like your old self. You should tell her how you feel."

The Commander shook his head quickly as she turned back toward the courtyard.

"Ready or not, here I come," she called, and a few poorly-suppressed giggles echoed from various not-so-clandestine spots.

"I couldn't. She chose to stay here in this isolated place without a single other member of her species being present. She believed that I alone had the power to banish her. She begged me to stay. I will not jeopardize her newfound happiness by making her feel trapped by an old man's unwelcome attentions," Tokath protested to his old friend.

"'Trapped'? 'Unwanted'? Commander, she seeks out your attention on a daily basis," L'Kor stated as he looked at his friend incredulously. "Have you not noticed how differently she behaves around you than everyone else here? Can you not see the light in her eyes when you give her a reason to smile? My friend, if such a woman looked at me with as much love as that Human lady looks at you, I would have made my interest known long ago."

That made Tokath pause. There had been moments where he believed - where he hoped - that he saw something beyond simple gratitude and friendship in her eyes, but he'd dismissed it, believing that those moments were a product of his own wishful thinking. Even a few nights ago when she still came to him after speaking with Ba'el for so long, there was a charged moment when he felt as thought might have a chance.

He did love her. She was a ray of light in a world that had grown gray and stagnant. He'd sacrificed so much over the years - his home, his career...he'd given everything to ensure that the families of the Klingons living here would not be dishonored. He'd even been forced to surrender his wife to the ravages of time. Did he not deserve to have a moment's pleasure of his own? Did he not have the right to cling to this bright spot and bask in her presence now that he'd found her?

Tokath relished how easily she made him smile...how effortlessly she made him laugh. Her quick wit and warmth had brought so much color to his life. He'd narrowly managed to avoid losing her to the transport, but only just. Had she not come to him and pleaded for a place in the Carraya colony, she would be lightyears from him by now. How long would it be before someone else here - someone younger and more willing to be forthright about their feelings - caught her eye?

He thought he'd revealed too much when he made that offhanded comment about M'Ven, but neither of them had been brave enough to make a move afterward. He cursed his cowardice yet again. He should've kissed her that night.

Taking a deep breath, Tokath nodded his head and mentally acknowledged how fortunate he'd been thus far. He might not be for much longer if he didn't gather his courage. Would his daughter approve now that she'd had a chance to meet her?

A few feet away, she found a Klingon child hiding behind a set of supply crates, and when she looked up Tokath's eyes met hers. His lips stretched into a warm smile reflexively, and she gave him a little wave as she went to look for more of hiding children.

Oh, Elements, he couldn't deny it any longer.

"You've made your point, L'Kor."

"And what are you going to do now that you see your situation more clearly?" Tokath bristled slightly as he turned to look at his friend. "Oh, come now. You cannot tell me that you have not given any thought to the possibilities. Surely, you've at least imagined what you might say if you were to tell her how you feel?"

He had, but most of those daydreams ended in him dejectedly acknowledging that she would likely never be able to return his affections.

Tokath's expression must've said it all, because L'Kor sighed heavily.

"Oh, my friend, do you truly think so little of yourself that you cannot even imagine a happy ending? Take it from me: it was far more difficult for my wife to give me a chance than it will be for that lovely girl to give you one," he said before patting the Commander's shoulder and ambling off.

Perhaps L'Kor was right. Maybe he simply needed to allow himself to consider the possibility that she might react favorably to the fondness, no, love - that was the emotion and he should call it by its name - that he'd developed for her.

A joyful squeal from one of the little ones drew his attention, and he saw his lady being hugged so enthusiastically by the children that she was practically drowning in their affections. She sank to the ground, surrendering good-naturedly to their embraces with a giggle. Tokath couldn't suppress his laughter at the sight of her trying to hug as many of the children in return as her arms could accommodate.

Her eyes found him through the clamor of the group, and his heart thudded alarmingly. Oh, the things she did to him!

One of the children whispered something in her ear, and when she nodded her head, the little girl broke away from the group and ran up to Tokath, looking up at him with big, hopeful eyes as she spoke.

"Mister Tokath, sir? Will you come play with us?" She asked as the rest of the children and his Human watched their interaction.

How could he say no to such a polite request?

--

Later that evening as he walked to his quarters to get ready for dinner, Tokath thought to himself that the afternoon spent playing with the children along with the woman he loved was one of the most enjoyable days he'd had in quite some time. The joy of simply being with her was enough to make him feel like the luckiest Romulan alive.

"When are you going to marry her, Papa?" Ba'el appeared at his side smiling up at his as she looped her arm with his. Had he truly been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard her approach?

"Marry? What are you talking about?" He asked as innocently as he could, but all that earned him was a scoff from his daughter.

"Oh, please. The entire colony knows how you feel about your newest resident," she said, and his cheeks heated up as she continued. "So when are you going to ask her?"

"Ba'el, I...I don't even know if she'll have me–"

"Are we talking about the same woman? When you joined her and the children today, she looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky," his daughter said. "You haven't been this happy since..."

She didn't have to finish her sentence. He knew what she meant. They both know the significance.

Pulling her to a stop in the hallway, Tokath grasped his daughter's shoulders lightly and looked into her eyes.

"Could you handle that? Could you live with the knowledge that you have a stepmother who is neither Klingon nor Romulan?" Ba'el's opinion of her was important to him - it was the only one that mattered outside of his own on this. He didn't want her to feel as though he was actively attempting to replace her mother. Gi'ral had been unique and he would never wish to disrespect her memory.

But he also didn't wish to be alone for the rest of his life. He adored this Human lady, and he...well, he would dearly love to be her mate.

"Father, I want you to live. I've been worried about you for the last few years, but now...seeing you this happy...I'm so relieved that you've found someone who makes you feel like yourself again. How could I ever object to you finding love?"

Overcome with emotion, Tokath pulled his daughter into a tight hug, nearly sobbing in relief.

"I...have some news, too...about M'Ven and I." She sounded nervous, but in truth, she had no reason to be. Pulling back slightly, Tokath looked at his daughter.

"Ba'el, if you believe that I know nothing of your affections for him or his for you, then you have clearly forgotten that I used to be young, too," he said looking into her eyes. "I wish the both of you every happiness, and if he hurts you, you tell me how much he screams when you tear his head off. And I know you're imminently capable, but if you need help, I'm here for you."

His daughter was right. He needed this. He didn't want to be alone anymore.

--

Tokath's daughter had been on the colony for nearly a week and a half when it happened. I stopped by his quarters to pass along a message from Ta'lana before dinner, but when I reached his doorway, I froze. He was standing in front of a full-length mirror, in his full uniform, tugging it gently in various directions presumably to straighten it. The poses he struck might have looked silly to anyone else, but to me, the imposing figure he made when he puffed up his chest and gave a harsh glare to his reflection made me bite my lip.

Realizing how long I'd been standing there, I knocked on the doorframe and acted as though I'd only just arrived when he turned his head.

"Just the woman I wanted to see," he exclaimed as he turned to face me. "I dug out one of my older uniforms and thought I'd wear it to dinner tonight. What do you think?"

He puffed out his chest once more as I stepped into the room, looking very much like the proud Commanding officer that he was.

"Very handsome...commanding..." I paused when I was right in front of him, itching to touch any part of him that I could. "...Perhaps a little rigid, though."

His smile fell a bit.

"Rigid?"

"Only a little," I answered, and he raised a curious eyebrow.

"How would you fix this...rigidity?" He asked, and I walked a slow circle around him before reaching up to finger the front of the ghastly leather collar at the top of his uniform.

"Does this part come off separately?" Tokath swallowed slightly before letting out a quiet confirmation. "May I?"

The Commander caught both my hands carefully in his and slid them around to the back of his neck where the collar's clasps lay.

"Do what you will with me." His voice had lowered, both in volume and in pitch to something husky...something that made me want to remove more than just this hideous strip of leather. After a moment's pause, I managed to unfasten the clasps and pull the collar away from his throat.

My next movement proved that I wasn't thinking. Once I'd tossed away the unnecessary accessory, I skimmed my fingertips over his neck, savoring the feeling of his pulse thrumming beneath my touch. Tokath's hands grasping my waist made me aware of what I'd done, pulling me out of whatever trance I'd been in and forcing my eyes to meet his.

Anything I'd been preparing to say was obliterated by the hunger in his eyes. Was I imagining it? I could simply have been seeing my own emotions reflected back at me.

Then he took a slow step toward me, and I stopped thinking about anything but how badly I wanted to kiss him. I took a breath and leaned in–

Only to be startled by a call of his name from the hallway. We both took a hasty step back and averted our eyes as Ta'lana appeared in his doorway.

"There you are. I tried to catch up with you, but it turns out you didn't need to deliver your message. I found the extra crates from our last shipment, after all," she said, then she turned her attention to Tokath. "My apologies for the disturbance, Commander. I hope this hasn't been too much of an inconvenience."

Tokath caught my hand and gave me a little wink.

"No, not at all," he said catching my eye. "I always welcome your company, lhhei."

A long, charged pause stretched between us, and my cheeks heated up under his gaze, but finally Ta'lana called my name.

"Come, come. We've taken enough of the Commander's time," she called, and I started toward the doorway.

"See you at dinner," I called over my shoulder, hoping neither of them could hear how unsteady I sounded. His response barely registered as Ta'lana closed the door behind us.

"I'm looking forward to it, e'lev."

--

The atmosphere in the dining hall that evening was different. It felt as though everyone was waiting for something to happen. They seemed nervous, yet...excited? How odd. When Tokath arrived, he took a seat beside me as usual and caught my hand in his. Before I could ask what he was doing, he'd tucked a flower securely in my hair just above my ear. The delicate petals tickled a bit, but I didn't dare risk dislodging it after he'd placed it there so carefully.

I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing, but the words just wouldn't come out. He seemed to understand my dilemma, though, because he brushed the back of his knuckles down the the side of my face and swallowed heavily.

The heat that suffused my cheeks when we were alone in his quarters earlier made a spectacularly rapid return, even as dinner was served.

Conversation was hushed, but weighty that night from all sides. People were happy for M'Ven and Ba'el - news had already made its way through the colony like wildfire, sparking surprised exclamations and boastful assertions that people had seen it coming years ago.

But there was something else, as well. Given how peoples' eyes kept straying up to the head table where Tokath and I sat, I guessed that people were wondering how he was taking the news. It wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that he'd be emotional about his daughter finally choosing a partner. If that was the case, though, why were so many gazes landing on me? Was it the flower? I supposed that I couldn't blame them. After all, I'd been surprised, too.

The Commander offered me his arm when the meal ended and I took it without hesitation, allowing him to lead me out into the gardens. This particular route was one we'd never taken before, and we only stopped when we reached a footpath leading into the forest.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he guided me down it expertly, pushing small branches aside and helping me over a fallen log.

"A secret place I found years ago. As far as I'm aware, nobody else even knows it exists," he said with a wink. After a few more minutes, we reached a curtain of vines. Thinking we'd reached a dead end, I looked around in confusion, but Tokath walked me right up to it with his arm wrapped comfortably around my waist. I looked up at him, and he winked as he parted the vine stems.

Moonlight sparkled and gleamed as it bounced off the surface of a placid lake. A swarm of glowing insects slightly larger than Earth fireflies swirled and played above the water, reminding me of a flock of birds.

"Oh, Tokath, this is beautiful," I murmured. I was almost afraid of speaking too loudly, lest I disrupt the peace that permeated this little place. The branches of the trees surrounding the lake's edge seemed to almost wrap around the clearing like gentle, protective arms.

"I thought you might like this place. I've been waiting for the right moment to share it with you," he whispered against the shell of my ear as his hands rested on my shoulders. Gently, so carefully, he grasped my chin and turned my head toward the left shore. A few feet from the water's edge was a blanket with plush pillows, fluffy towels, and a lantern resting atop it.

That was it. Afraid or not, I was going to kiss Tokath tonight, no matter what. I turned in his grasp only to find the lantern's warm, yellowish glow caressing the adoring smile that stretched his lips.

"Thank you for trusting me with this," I said resting my hands on his chest. It was now or never. Lifting my hand to cup his cheek like I had in his room, I looked into his eyes. "You've been uncharacteristically quiet tonight. Is everything alright?"

That damned smile got wider and he let out a quiet laugh.

"Oh, yes, lhhei. Forgive me," he said drawing me into a hug. "I'm afraid I've been lost in thought."

"Oh? And what has occupied your mind so thoroughly?" I punctuated the question with a quick kiss above his fluttering pulse. The Commander's breath caught in his throat, and I realized that maybe I hadn't imagined the hunger I'd seen in him earlier after all.

His grip on me tightened and he hummed at the question.

"You have, dear lady," he muttered, his voice low and rough. That tone had caused me so much frustration since the first time I heard it. I must've let out a gasp or some other surprised sound, because he nodded his head against my scalp. "Yes, you have been a very prominent element of my thoughts since the day you arrived here, but, lately, I find myself contemplating something that...truthfully, I have no right to even consider."

Feeling his proximity even more than usual, I looked up at him curiously. He didn't relinquish his grip on me one iota, but that suited me just fine. I never wanted to stop touching him.

"Maybe talking about it would help ease your mind? Usually confiding in someone close to me helps when there's something bothering me," I suggested, hoping that he didn't notice how shaky my voice had become.

"I will, but only if you don't mind being the one who listens to me ramble. You see, you're the only one who can help me with this particular problem, but I promise I won't ask you if you're not willing." His voice was low and heavy as he spoke, carrying the same weight I'd noticed more and more lately.

"I'll do anything I can to help, Tokath. You know that," I said offering him a reassuring smile.

"You see, I've been asking myself several very specific questions...ones to which I do not have the answers. If the answers are too personal or if you do not wish to engage in that conversation, you need only tell me, and I will drop the topic. Everything can return to the way it was before. I have no desire to make you feel trapped or to change how you see me."

After his little speech, I felt certain that I knew where this might be going, and anticipation flooded through me. Butterflies beat their wings unceasingly in my abdomen.

"Questions could never change the way I look at you." He shook his head at my assertion.

"These might," he breathed as he averted his gaze. "I haven't spent much time around Humans, as you may have guessed, so I...don't exactly know how someone in your culture might approach something of this nature."

I nodded my head in encouragement as his thumbs began to rub slow circles where they rested on my waist.

"I...You see, I wish to...to..." He trailed off and took a deep breath. "When...Well, with Klingons, the men write poetry, the women throw things at each other. It's rather straightforward. Romulans are more varied in their approaches, and...I suppose what I want to ask is is this: How do I...? I mean, what would you expect of...of a...?"

Tokath let out a frustrated huff and shut his eyes. A blush so vibrant that I could see it in the lantern light darkened his cheeks and spread all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Oh, fvadt, I'll never say it at this rate. What I'm trying to tell you is that you are beautiful and kind and the part of myself I never thought I'd find," he said sounding much more resolute. "I doubt this is the way a Human would go about it - much less subtlety to it even though you deserve subtlety and romance - but I need you to know that I love you. That I...would like to be your mate. Hell, I don't even know if Humans call their bound partners 'mates' as we do, but that's neither here nor there. I'd, of course, be happy to call us anything that you wish if–"

A surge of courage tore through me, and I cut off the rest of what he was going to say with a kiss. My lips met Tokath's, and he tensed up for a moment before relaxing into it and kissing me back. One of his hands came up and cupped the back of my head, holding me as close to him as was physically possible.

"I love you, too," I blurted as soon as we separated for air. He looked as dazed as I felt, but he still managed to lift me into his arms and carry me to the blanket as his mouth met mine again.

We didn't make it back to the compound until the next morning. With our hands clasped and rather obvious marks marring the skin of our necks, it was obvious to anyone who looked our way that we were both finally whole.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[donteattheappleshook]

His - A Captain Swan AU Chapter 4/10

Summary

Mature widower with good home wishes to make acquaintance of a hardworking girl or widow. No children. Object matrimony.

When Emma Swan flees scandal in New York to marry a man she’s never met in Storybrooke, Montana, she doesn’t have any illusions of finding love. But when she’s picked up at the station by Killian Jones, it finds her regardless. Despite sharing his home, his bed, and his heart, she can never truly be his.

Read it on Ao3 (where my italics work...)

Catch up on Tumblr 1 2 3

Thank you thank you thank you @elizabeethan and @the-darkdragonfly​ for all your help with this fic! the best pocket friends and besties an girl could ask for!

******

Part 4

“There you are,” Killian smiles when she finally comes outside to meet him. 

She’d stood in the kitchen for a long time, turning the comb over between her hands as she considered it, tracing her fingers over the flowers. She wanted to wear it. Of course she did, it was beautiful, a gift from someone who had cared enough to notice that she’d coveted it. But she didn’t know what it would mean to wear it. Was it just a simple gift from one friend to another, from a son to his father’s wife? Or was it something more, something inappropriate that she couldn’t even let herself consider. 

“Oh, you found it,” he says, then frowns as she continues to turn it over in her hands. “Is something wrong?”

She shakes her head no even though there is - or at least, there could be. “It’s lovely. You shouldn’t have.” 

“Of course I should. I haven’t given you a wedding present. I know there wasn’t time for a celebration or gifts so I thought you should have at least one.” Emma lets out a sigh of relief. A wedding present. A gift to celebrate her marriage to Brennan. Something perfectly sweet and acceptable. She feels silly, idiotic even to have read more into such a kind gesture. 

“I hope it’s alright,” he adds when she doesn’t answer. “It’s only that I noticed you admiring it in the shop…”

“It’s perfect,” she promises and his anxiety begins to fade. 

“I just thought you might like something nice. I know that you must have left behind a far more glamorous life for rude cows and nothing but fields and mountains. A bit of a step down, I’d assume.” 

“I like the fields and mountains.” She gives him a small, hesitant smile. “Your family and your home aren’t a step down. My life in New York wasn’t nearly as glamorous as everyone seems to think it was.”

He considers her for a moment. “I suppose I don’t know much of your life before you came here. You just showed up one day in your pretty dress from the big city and sent the whole town aflutter,” he smiles. 

She returns it as best she can, wondering how much of that life she’ll be able to keep secret, if the scandal will follow her all the way out here. “Thank you for the gift, Killian.”

Killian nods, hesitating as though he can tell she’s keeping something from him, but he only smiles again. “Would you still like to see some more fields and mountains?”

He takes her along the property line, walking the length of the fence, the other side of which, he explains, belongs to the Mills family. “She gets very austere about borders. She’s tried to report us to the sheriff a few times for encroaching on her land,” he rolls his eyes. “Best to avoid her if you can,” he cautions. 

He walks her along a creek that he explains is also a property line - that he and his brother used to play here when they were children and hiding from chores. They’d make ships from paper or sticks and race them down the stream until one of their parents found them. “It’s still a good spot to swim on a hot day.” 

They come across a herd of cattle, Robin and David waving to them from astride their horses. “What are they doing?” 

“Making sure nobody steals them.” Her eyes widen. “And catching any that run off.” 

“Does that happen a lot?” 

He shrugs. “From time to time.”

“Where’s your father?” Were these not the fields he was speaking of? 

“Plowing around the back pasture. He prefers to work alone most days. Happy to complain about the lack of help though,” he rolls his eyes. “At harvest we take on a few temporary workers.” A somewhat awkward silence settles between them as she wonders how often Brennan complains about Killian not being able to help with farm work. “Come on, I think you’ll like this place,” he promises, gesturing further out across the field. 

He takes her to an orchard, rows and rows of trees in full bloom offering a little shade from the day’s heat. It’s beautiful, brilliant green everywhere, deeper than the fields and the hills, spotted with pink and yellow. “This was mine and Liam’s favorite place when we were boys. We used to see who could climb the highest. The sweetest fruit grows at the top.”

Emma smiles. “Who won?” 

“Me, of course.” 

She laughs. She should have expected that. “My friend Lily and I used to climb the apple trees that grew behind the orphanage and sneak some back to our room. We always got in trouble for it though.” Her smile doesn’t fade at the memory. It was always worth it. 

It’s a moment before she realizes she’s mentioned the orphanage, something she usually doesn’t tell people about, and he’s watching her carefully as they walk between the branches. 

“Well, there’s nobody to get you in trouble for it here,” he says. And maybe she imagines the challenge in his words, in his raised brow, but regardless, she decides to rise to it. “What are you doing?” he asks, smile amused as she kicks off her boots. 

“What does it look like?” She takes hold of a low branch. The trees aren’t very tall, nothing like the ancient pines that she can see growing in the mountains, but she’s out of practice, heaving herself up clumsily. The last time she did this she didn’t have a corset. 

“Emma…” Killian laughs as she continues to climb. “Be careful.” 

She scoffs. “Afraid I’ll beat your record? Or was your bragging about your climbing skills just talk?”

“I’ve got one hand!” he laughs and she rolls her eyes. Alright, it’s a decent excuse. She continues, making her way up to the higher branches, until any higher would be too thin to support her weight, and shimmies out onto one of the sturdier ones, reaching for the ripe peaches that grow above her head. 

“Catch,” she calls, picking one and tossing it down to him. When he catches it with ease she throws down a few more and beams at him. Emma takes a moment to enjoy the world from up here, the sun brushing her skin in patches between the leaves, the breeze warm and the air sweet. It’s the freest she’s felt in a long time. For a few minutes, she feels like herself again. 

“Are you stuck?” Killian teases from below. 

“No,” she answers immediately, almost offended, before realizing… she might be. 

He chuckles. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” No. 

He huffs another small laugh, rubbing one of the peaches on his shirt and taking a bite, waiting. “You know,” he says after a few moments. “I’d hate to leave you out here but someone has to make dinner if you’re going to spend the night in a tree.” 

“I’m fine,” she says, snippy against his teasing. She just needs to figure out how to get down from a tree without breaking her neck or hiking her dress up in front of a strange man. She probably shouldn’t have climbed the damn tree in front of a strange man in the first place. “Just… turn around,” she orders and he smirks but does as she asks. 

Right. Well, the tree isn’t that tall anyway, she reminds herself, throwing a leg over from where she’d been straddling the branch and sitting, looking down warily. It’s not that high. 

Killian whirls back around at the sound of her small shout, reaching her just in time to see her land on her ass on the soft grass. 

“Are you alright?” he demands, kneeling next to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, then her cheek to make her look at him. He looks a little frantic and she almost laughs. 

“It was nothing.” She notices his empty arms then. “Did you drop the peaches?” 

He looks back at the small pile behind him. “I thought you were hurt.” 

“I risked my life to get those!”. 

“I thought you said it was nothing,” he smirks. 

“That was before you threw them away.” 

Killian laughs, shakes his head and stands, retrieving the fruit and handing one to her as she makes her way back to her feet. “Here.” 

“Thank you,” Emma says, dusting her hands off on her dress before taking the peach from him.

“What are you going to do with all of these?” he asks, arms full of the fruit she tossed. 

She picks another few from the lower branches, makes a basket from the top layer of her dress and tucks them in it. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll make a pie.”

“You know how to make pie?” 

Oh, right. “No. But there’s a recipe in Granny’s book and I think I could figure it out.” 

“One afternoon with the woman and you’re ready to take over her business.” 

“I’m not afraid of a challenge,” she shrugs. 

“Oh, I know,” he teases, stepping closer and her breath catches at his nearness. His hand lifts to her hair and the corner of his mouth pulls up as her heart races traitorously. Then he plucks a leaf from her braid, holding it out in front of her with an amused smirk and her face flushes in embarrassment. 

It’s all in your head, she reminds herself. Stop imagining things as more than what they are - things that aren’t even there. 

“Should we head back?” he suggests, flicking the leaf away. Then his expression grows more hesitant. “We can circle around to the eastern field if you’d like to see my father before he comes in.” 

Emma thinks of the way Brennan had dismissed her offer to visit him this morning and his unpleasant mood before he headed out. “Let’s not bother him. I should get started on dinner anyway.” A better meal than yesterday’s is her best shot at improving the impression she’s made so far on her husband. By Killian’s silence as he agrees and leads them back in the direction of the house, he’s likely also remembering his father’s harsh rejection.

“What do you grow out there?” she asks to break the awkward quiet that’s grown between them. 

“Wheat mostly. There’s corn as well but it’s for the livestock and doesn’t take much tending.”

“I thought it might be nice to start a garden,” she suggests hesitantly. “Grow some vegetables in the patch out front. It would make it easy to tend while I’m working inside.” Emma looks at him out of the corner of her eye to try and gauge his reaction. If he thinks it’s a silly idea then there’s no chance Brennan would support it. But his son might be able to convince him to agree. 

“I think that’s a brilliant idea,” he smiles. “I could help you dig it up - if you need help.”

“Help would be great, thank you.” She’d already planned ahead, ordering vegetables that grow easily from the store today that she could use for meals and then keep the scraps for replanting. “You’re sure you don’t mind? That Brennan won’t?”

There’s concern in the way he looks at her. “You don’t have to ask permission to build a garden on your own land, Swan. It’s your home too now.” 

“Right,” she answers, knowing he means it but not so sure she believes it yet. She thinks that if it were only him, then she would already be beginning to feel she belongs. But it isn’t, and she doesn’t, as badly as she may want to. Wanting for something to do, she takes one of the peaches from her skirt and takes a bite, surprising herself and Killian when she lets out a stunned, “holy shit.” 

Killian’s brows raise in surprise before he bursts out laughing as she flushes deep red at her language. Mouth still full, she forces herself to finish chewing and swallow before she explains. “I’m sorry. It’s just, you weren’t kidding. These are amazing.” 

“Aye, well don’t eat all of them,” he warns. “I was promised pie.” 

“Yeah, well, you might have to go climb some trees if you want it that badly.” She slips one into her pocket. 

“Are you stealing peaches?” 

“It’s for Jewel.”

“Swan, that animal is big and lazy enough. She doesn’t need your help growing so large she can’t fit through her stable door.” He shakes his head. “Wasting perfectly good fruit on a horse, really.”

“I thought this was my home now,” she argues, catching her smirk between her teeth as she uses his words against him. “Doesn’t that mean these are my peaches and I can do what I want with them?” 

He laughs, something in his smile softening the teasing humour they’d fallen into. “Aye. It does.” 

***

She makes one of Granny’s recipes for dinner, roasting meat, potatoes and vegetables the way the old woman had shown her that morning, adding herbs in generous quantities that she’d given Emma from her own stock. Herbs, she thinks, she’ll have to keep some to plant in her garden as well. She smiles a little as she cooks, thinking of the little patch she’ll dig up, the friends she made today, her stomach churning with anticipation tonight rather than nerves as she waits for the men to come in to eat. 

While her husband offers no compliments for the meal she serves, he doesn’t complain. Eating without comment, he mutters about the lack of help he was given today in the field - most of it directed at his son who, along with the farmhands, have been nothing but flattering in their opinions about their dinner. 

“You could hire another farmhand,” Killian tells him, another old argument from the sigh with which he suggests it. 

“With what money?” Brennan snaps.

“The money you bring with you to the tavern every night.” 

“I know some lads in town looking for work,” Robin suggests.

“I’m not paying for more help. I pay you two enough that I shouldn’t have to!” 

“It takes two of them to mind the cattle,” Killian reminds him. “We can’t risk losing any more like we did last year.”

“So I should just do all the work myself?” he argues. “What use are two farmhands who spend all day standing in a field and a cripple son who sits around reading books and calls it work?”

“I could help,” Emma offers quietly, hoping to diffuse some of the tension, hoping to find another way to be useful. 

“With the field?” Killian asks, but Brennan scoffs.

“Look at her. She can barely lift a bag of flour let alone handle a plow.” 

“You said you wanted help,” his son reminds him.

“Aye, help, not a woman who I’ll have to bring back when she faints from exhaustion.”

“Father.” 

“What? It’s not women’s work.”

“I’m not sure what other option there is if you don’t wish to hire someone or let Mrs. Jones help,” Robin points out as politely as possible. 

“I’m not sure I asked for your opinion, Locksley.” 

“No you just want to complain about not having the help you refuse,” Killian mutters and Brennan’s fist comes down hard on the table, jarring her. David sets a gentle hand on her arm, comforting, but she can also feel the suggestion in its weight: don’t get involved. 

“I won’t abide being talked down to in my own house by my son and the help,” he spits, standing brusquely, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll be at the tavern. Spending my coin however I damn well please. You best not be here when I get back,'' he warns them, slamming the door behind him and leaving the room in silence. 

“I didn’t mean to -”

“You didn’t do anything,” Killian says before she can finish apologizing. “It’s his own pigheadedness that-” He stops, takes a deep breath, calms himself. 

“Sorry, Mrs. Jones,” Robin sighs. “We’ve ruined your perfectly wonderful dinner.” 

“No, I’ll just…” She moves to gather their plates, flustered and needing something to do. “Does… does anyone want dessert?” 

The resounding yes makes her smile despite the tension, turning away to hide her flush, busying herself with serving plates of peach cobbler - pie had turned out to be beyond her skillset after all - bringing them to the table. The discomfort that had built over the course of dinner slowly dissipates as they eat, Brennan seeming to have taken the anger out the door with him. 

When Locksley and Nolan have retired for the night, she broaches the earlier subject carefully with Killian. “Do we really need another farmhand?”

“Aye, probably,” he admits, setting dishes down in the washbasin despite her protests that he doesn’t need to help her clear the table. “But the work gets done without one. I don’t know how much longer he can keep it up though with the state he’s in - it used to take three of us.” 

“What state?” she asks and he presses his lips together like he’s said too much. “Is he ill?” she asks, remembering his coughing fit from this morning.

“The doctor hasn't found anything wrong with him. He just says that he needs to cut back and give his body a chance to recover or he’ll run himself into an early grave. ”

“The work?” 

“Aye… and the rum. 

“Oh,” she says, looking towards the door where her husband just left for the tavern.

“I’m sorry,” Killian frowns, pinching his brow. “I keep speaking without thinking tonight.”

“I… is it serious?” she presses, fingers curling into fists, nails digging into her palms as she considers the possibility that her husband - who’s already not a young man and was supposed to provide her with a home and security - may be drinking himself to death. “Should I be worried?” A terrible fear of finding herself a widow so soon after marrying creeps through her, of being left again with nowhere to go like so many times before. 

“Hey,” Killian says, reaching for her hand, opening it and keeping it in his. His thumb runs over her knuckles soothingly. “You don’t need to worry. He’s too stubborn to let death get the better of him. And should anything happen…” His finger brushes against her palm as if unwittingly. “You won’t be left alone,” he promises. “I’ll take care of you.” Her heart catches in her throat at his words, racing at the declaration before he quickly corrects himself, dropping her hand. “I mean, we will. Liam and I. We won’t leave you to fend for yourself.” 

Emma’s smile is awkward as he reaches to rub at the back of his neck, clearing his throat before announcing that he should probably get the animals settled for the night. She watches him leave, the feel of his calloused fingers against her own still lingering like a reminder. 

Stop imagining things that aren’t there. 

‘I’ll take care of you.’

***

As she lays in bed later, staring at the ceiling, her husband’s side empty for the second night in a row, she reflects on how drastically her life continues to change in such a short period of time. A week ago she was Emma Swan, governess to a wealthy family in New York. Yesterday she was Emma Jones, wife of a farmer twice her age. And today, she’s married to a farmer twice her age who’s ill from a vice he won’t give up that may leave her as just Emma again, widowed and alone. Only she won’t be alone - Killian had promised. But the thought of losing her husband whom she’s only just met, whom she’s so determined to win the respect and appreciation of, is troubling to say the least. 

There’s so much she wishes she had known before she made those vows to a stranger she still doesn’t know. So many things she wishes she’d thought to ask, too focused on fleeing her own heartbreak to consider that the life that awaited her may hold even greater challenges. Maybe she should have stayed in New York. Scandal would have walked in her shadow, and she’d probably never have been able to find another employer, but she’d have had her freedom, the option to walk away. Instead she’d chosen to run. 

So when her husband stumbles into their room hours later, reeking of drink and slurring before collapsing, unconscious on the bed for the second night in a row, Emma wars with the mixed feelings of relief and despair that toil within her. This is not the life she’d have chosen for herself, but she did choose it, and now alongside her regret is a desperation to hang onto it less it be ripped from her hands too soon. It’s not the sort of fantasies she’d let herself dream up when she was young, and even for a little while when she thought Neal loved her. But for all the turmoil and uncertainty, there’s goodness - things and places she’s becoming accustomed to, a routine she’s learning to settle into, people she’s growing fond of - and she’s not ready to lose it just yet. 

***

When she makes her way downstairs the next morning, she’s not surprised to find Killian already in the kitchen, the smell of coffee wrapping itself around her and warming the room. In fact, as she’d tiptoed quietly across the hall so as not to wake her husband, she couldn’t fight the anticipation of another morning of quiet conversation, of lighthearted teasing and banter before the sun could shine through the windows and bathe them in reality. 

The few solitary moments alone she’s had with Killian have been a godsend in these overwhelming first days in Storybrooke. And while she promises herself it’s just relief at having a friend, someone she can talk to - confide in even - the way her heart runs rampant in her chest when he looks up and smiles at her like he’d been anticipating her arrival too, leaves her a little less certain. 

When she notices the cup left out on the counter for her next to the kettle, she tries not to read into the considerate gesture. He was late picking you up because he stopped to help Granny, she reminds herself. He’s considerate of everyone. That’s just the kind of man he is.

“Good morning,” he greets, moving from the counter to the table, setting down a fresh loaf of bread and butter and taking a seat. The kitchen still smells like baking and she knows he made it himself. “Breakfast?” he offers. “There’s eggs on the stove as well though you might have to heat them.” 

Emma gives him a mirthful smirk. “Have you left me any of my duties?” 

“I thought I would give you a hand - so to speak,” he grins, waving his prosthetic. “That way your morning is clear.”

“Clear for what?” she asks, taking a seat and helping herself to bread. His is better than hers and she’ll have to ask him for some advice on that. Though, from the way she can see the muscles of his forearms shifting under his rolled up sleeves as he moves, his hand nearly twice the size of her own, she thinks it might have more to do with kneading and brute strength. She busies herself with picking apart her breakfast, forcing her attention away from him. 

Killian leans in conspiratorially. “I wondered if you’d like to come with me to the bookshop today.”

“Yes!” she says too quickly, giddy like a child at the thought of joining him in town again, of not being stuck in the house alone doing chores all day. “Do you think Brennan will mind?” 

“Mind what?” her husband demands gruffly, joining them earlier than she’d expected given his condition last night. He’s slightly more alert than he was yesterday and she thinks perhaps he may still be drunk. Brennan takes a seat at the table, waiting expectantly before demanding, “Am I supposed to serve my own damn breakfast?” with an annoyed frown at her.

Emma hurries to the stove, warming the pan and getting a plate ready. She can see Killian about to say something but she shakes her head. She doesn’t want them fighting again, not this morning when she so desperately wants him to agree to let her go. 

“Mind what?” he repeats, eyeing his son suspiciously now. 

“I was offering to show Emma the shop today. It might be worth it for her to learn how to run the place and handle the books should we ever need the extra help.” 

“What, you planning on going somewhere?” he demands. 

“No. But if you need an extra hand in the field at harvest I can free up Locksley or Noland and watch the cattle.” Emma can predict his comment and clearly Killian can too, adding, “I can sit on a horse one handed.” 

Brennan grunts as she sets his breakfast down in front of him. “Like I said, so long as the cooking gets done and the house is kept I don’t care what you do.” Despite the sting of his indifference, she beams at Killian over her husband’s shoulder. “Don’t know how you’ve got the time though. If you’re short of work there are cows that need milking and eggs that need collecting and those bloody chickens don’t catch themselves. I suppose you spent your days whiling away where you came from but there’s no room for laziness on a farm.” 

She gives Killian another pleading look to stay silent when she sees his temper flaring and to her relief he doesn’t speak, only clenches his jaw and fist, glaring at the table. “Of course not,” she tells Brennan, placatingly. “I won’t go if it gets in the way of my chores.” 

They sit and eat breakfast quietly, the lack of conversation loaded and awkward, until her husband stands, finished with his meal. He walks out without a word as he had the day before, no goodbye or see you later or kind word for his new wife. Emma sets to cleaning up, bringing the dishes to the sink. Killian helps her without comment and she doesn’t argue with him this time, too disappointed to care. She shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.

When they’ve finished, Killian holds out a towel, hanging from the tip of his hook with an exaggerated bow and it makes her smile as she takes it. “Come on,” he tells her. “We don’t have much time to waste.” 

“What?” she frowns.

“We’ve got cows to milk and eggs to fetch, and honestly I’d be fascinated to see if you could catch a chicken - or at least I’d very much like to watch you try. We’re short on entertainment around here,” he smirks and she flicks the towel at him, making him laugh as he twists out of the way. He pulls out his pocket watch. “We still have about an hour until we need to leave to open the shop.” 

Emma can’t fight the way her grin splits her face. She could hug him. She nearly does, but instead catches her lip between her teeth, nodding excitedly and letting him lead the way outside. For all the uncertainty this new life has brought her, all the anxiety, it’s nice to know she’s got one thing she can count on. Her fingers fiddle with the comb in her pocket, tracing the flowers carefully. He pretends not to notice when she slips it into her hair.

******

Let me know if you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list!

@kmomof4 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @jennjenn615 @dramioneswan @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @batana54 @lfh1226-linda @csalltheway @xsajx @xarandomdreamx @onceratheart18 @ownedbycaptainswan @teamhook @pirateprincessofpizza @lostintheskyfaraway @zaharadessert @thejollyroger-writer @ultraluckycatnd @justanother-unluckysoul @spartanguard @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @wefoundloveunderthelight @sailtoafarawayland @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @superchocovian @snowbellewells @xellewoods @sals86 @karlyfr13s ​ @ouatpost ​ @skairipakomtrikru @lonelyspectator12   @anmylica   @alexa-fangirl-forever @inspiredbystardust @marcella2727 @paradiselady19 @koryandr @killiansprincss

[smolalienbee]

Birdwatching, or: How Lost Birds Flock Together (chapter 2)

The Witcher (Netflix) // Detroit: Become Human AU (Witcher characters placed in DBH universe) // rated T (Teen And Up) // 11k/???

When Yennefer quit the Oxenfurt Police Department, she swore to herself never to get involved with another android case - that is, until an old mentor comes knocking at her office door. Suddenly, she finds herself with an android in her care and a new job - to identify and neutralize the Sandpiper.

But how does one go about finding a myth? Worst of all, there’s much more at stake than just her paycheck. The deviants’ existence is at risk and then there’s also… the girl.

read the 2nd chapter in full on AO3

The night after the Chameleon, Yennefer doesn’t sleep well.

She tosses and turns; she dreams of a girl and of an old mentor. She dreams of birds - of sandpipers and of swallows and of vultures; and she, herself, is a black kestrel amongst them, circling the swallow, protecting, always protecting.

She dreams of a fire, consuming everything she has ever cared for.

This fire has raged inside of her for as long as she can remember, but it’s been all the more present, all the more insistent after the Cintra case. It was her last straw, Cintra, and to this day she can recall herself, standing in Tissaia’s office. How she had slammed her badge onto Tissaia’s desk, so furious and so, so very tired.

"I gave you all I could give. I’ve helped you for years, Yennefer, what more could you possibly want?"

She thinks about the girl. "Everything."

She has never stopped thinking about the girl.

So she lays, in the dark, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. Like this, she also remembers the machine that sits in her living room. Geralt.

The entire situation feels like the universe is playing some cruel joke on her. She can’t help but wonder, why me? After all, surely CyberLife - and, by extension, Tissaia - has many contacts in many places; people that’d be far more willing to, how did Tissaia put it exactly? Identify and neutralize the Sandpiper.

There’s more to it, Yennefer is sure of it. She knows Tissaia - she knows that she wouldn’t have made the choice to drag Yennefer into this lightly. What she doesn’t know, though, is who this investigation is truly supposed to benefit. CyberLife? Tissaia?

(Yennefer?)

Around 3 in the morning, she gives up.

She settles herself on the bed, with the laptop in her lap being the only source of light in the room. She pulls up every kind of document she can get her hands on - databases, news sites, CyberLife’s logs, anything that she has access to and even the ones that she shouldn’t have access to. And then, she digs. She digs in search of something - anything - about the specific BN213 that had escaped their grasp just the night before.

There’s nothing. Nothing useful, anyway. All she can find are overly pretty marketing materials along with the model line’s availability and full specifications - but there’s nothing about this specific android. No information on who they belonged to, where they were stationed, when they were bought, from which store… as if they never existed at all. Had she not been aware of previous cases in which the Sandpiper wiped most, if not all, proof of androids’ existences, she would’ve found this strange.

Around 5 in the morning, she gives up again.

She slams her laptop shut with the kind of force that the poor machine doesn’t deserve and then she heaves herself out of bed. She slips out of the bedroom barefoot and having only thrown an old, faded OPD hoodie on top of her black nightgown.

She finds Geralt just as she had left him - on the battered living room couch, staring at the TV. The TV itself is somewhat old-fashioned - a flatscreen, rather than a holographic display. It’s currently on mute, though still playing what looks like a nature documentary about horses. Yennefer stops in the doorway to take in this scene and Geralt is entirely unbothered by her presence - he sits, straight as an arrow, eyes never leaving the screen. His LED pulses yellow.

Careful not to disturb him, Yennefer steps into the room and takes the empty seat next to him. She doesn’t attempt to get his attention at first, and instead just lets herself wonder - about him; about the case. About the previous night and how Geralt’s gaze had lingered on that singer - Jaskier? - and how eager he had seemed to just let him go.

Geralt is a prototype. He’s a state of the art machine designed, as far as Yennefer is aware, for the sole purpose of identifying deviants and tracking down the Sandpiper. A deviant hunter, is what one could call him, and yet it’s hard for her not to ponder the question of can the deviant hunter deviate as well?

read the 2n chapter in full on AO3

[dalchiid]

I woke up in the middle of the night, couldn’t sleep, discovered chapter 17 of Covetous in one of my saved tags, started reading it, finished the chapter, couldn’t get enough, started reading chapter 16, finished that too, and instantly knew I had to read everything from the beginning. Can I just say the way you write is absolutely brilliant. Even though I read chapters 17 and 16 first, I still failed to noticed how Hoseok had y/n completely wrapped around his pretty little fingers the moment he laid eyes on her (until of course it was too late and she had already fallen into his trap). And how he completely fooled the Baek’s (even bringing his brothers into the plan) to get y/n exactly where he wanted her. I’m so amazed that after reading all 17 chapters I went back to re-read all the interactions between Hoseok and y/n to see if I missed anything. The details you incorporated of his facial expressions, and even his actions when he wasn’t the main focus of the scene. Although it’s more obvious once you realize Hoseok’s plan was a success, it’s fascinating to see how completely subtle yet precise he was with executing his plan. Truly a sheep in wolf’s clothing who constantly waited for the perfect moment to pounce on his prey time and time again. Right from chapter 1 your allusion and foreshadowing to Hoseok’s plan is impeccable. For example, when I found out about the saliva, Seokjin’s statement about Hoseok being “good at changing the minds of others” was delightful to recall, it felt like finding a little Easter egg. And there’s so many “aha” moments like that sprinkled throughout the story. I want to kiss your brain so bad.

I’m curious to know where y/n’s new motivations will stem from now, besides escaping of course. The biggest catalyst for her past actions was “fear of Hyun-woo finding out”. Well now that he’s out of the picture I guess she’ll be moving with a “fear of Hoseok finding out”. I’m also curious to know more about Hoseok’s relationships with his brothers and how that will affect his relationship with y/n. Seokjin and Jungkook are obviously well aware of who she belongs to (seeing as they were in on the whole plan) and don’t seem to have the same saliva + mind control powers. However, what of the others? Especially troublemaker Jimin hahah. Though I doubt Hoseok feels threatened towards him the way he did with Hyun-woo. I also don’t think any of his brothers would dare try to steal what’s his (seeing as they all respect one another enough to never keep secrets) but it’s fun to think about the possible implications of them exacerbating Hoseok’s possessiveness and obsession of y/n even more.

I love this story so much and I am very much looking forward to chapter 18’s release. Thank you for writing such a masterpiece! Take care and I hope you’re having an amazing day when you read this <3

Oh my god you're so sweet 🥺 Everything you typed out means a lot to me as a writer and I really appreciate it.

As for the brothers, without giving up too much information, each one has something about them that we're not going to like. Jungkook with his disinterest with helping someone in need of help and ultimately enabling Hoseok to do as he pleases along with Seokjin. Yoongi was confused but ultimately didn't care and just went along with whatever Hoseok said. The only one that has shown a lick of something negative is Taehyung when he goes from excited to meeting Y/N to something else when Jimin mentions she's Hoseok's "girlfriend." His story will flesh out more in future chapters as well as the rest of the group. As for Jimin he's done a lot of things he shouldn't have done and it's why he's considered the troublemaker. He's still doing said things and Y/N will find out the truth about him at some point. I've planted two important bits of information about him throughout the story but it'll make sense soon enough. And everyone will learn more about the guys over time. In the quest for freedom Y/N is going to find out about a lot things she would rather have not known about.

Again though thank you so much 💜💜 I hope you have an amazing day too!

[my-lost-darling]

Sing Me A Song {Ichabod & Wendy}

In which Wendy out smarts Nimble once again with the help of Ichabod.

@assistedbyreason

Read It From The Start:

Challenge 1.   Challenge 2.   Clever Whispers (Hatter & Wendy) Challenge 3. Open Positions (Jess & Wendy) Challenge 4.

WENDY

Wendy couldn’t sing at the Court any longer and while she kind of hated it, she also wasn’t as bothered. There were ways around it. 

This was actually the weakest bet that Nimble had made. Wendy couldn’t perform but that didn’t mean she couldn’t sing at the bar or sing to her friends or with them. She just couldn’t perform.

And if she wanted to.

Well that’s where her and Ichabod were heading right now.

“Have you been to [name redacted] yet? I’ve only found it once before.” And yet here it was in front of them as if it had always belonged here.

ICHABOD:

It was weird for Ichabod to be going to [name redacted] with Wendy instead of The Court. He was used to walking with her to work, at this point, and while this was more a date rather than their usual walk to The Court it was still… strange. Not that he didn’t enjoy it. Wendy was someone who had grown on him rather quickly; something that still took him by surprise. Though, he felt it had more to do with the fact she was so straightforward with him rather than playing coy. Ichabod was the type of person who could easily get lost in the little games people liked to play. It had certainly led to heart break a time or two before.

But he wasn’t focusing on the before. He was focusing on the now and that caused him to squeeze her hand just slightly as they made their way to the seemingly elusive place.

“I haven’t. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it before,” he admitted it easily, looking over at her for a moment. The place looked non-assuming. Which was probably why many people couldn’t find it. A perfectly normal explanation to something he wasn’t super focused on anyways. “Is it supposed to be hard to find?” 

WENDY

Wendy nodded, "the interesting thing about the shoppe is that it acts like a pop up but you have to know where and when it will be.” Just like this morning when she had come across a post and immediately the plan formed in her mind.

Wendy would give a giant Fuck You to Nimble with this action too.

Or maybe it just slipped from their view when you didn’t need it.

“I have a surprise for you though.”

ICHABOD:

That was a confusing thing to follow. And one that Ichabod didn’t fully understand. Storefronts were typically stationary. That was the whole appeal. For a place to act like one– It made him wonder. He wondered what type of town he’d moved to and just how the magic surrounding it worked. 

Though that was temporarily shelved as Wendy mentioned a surprise.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he stated quickly, giving her hand another small squeeze. “In case you haven’t noticed in all this time we’ve been hanging out and y’know the small fact that you’re my girlfriend, I do enjoy spendin’ time with yous. With or without surprises.”

WENDY

It was moments like this that just made Wendy realize how special Ichabod was to her. She used to only be worth what she could do. What she said and how she acted.

It was nice to remember that she was enough. And not just enough she was worthy.

Wendy couldn’t hide the smile as she glanced over at Ichabod.

“It’s nothing too big. Just something small.” Wendy offered as if a way to manage expectations as they entered the coffee shop. “Do you want to get us a table? I’ll get us drinks?”

ICHABOD

There was something special about when Wendy smiled. It wasn’t that she didn’t smile often. It was just… something about each one that was given. He categorized them like the books on his bookshelf. Some smiles were more reserved, timid almost. Others, big and bright, usually followed by laughter. Of course she had the fake smiles reserved for customers; who didn’t? But the smiles like the one she gave him then were truly special to him. 

He was only slightly distracted by it as he opened the door for her and they entered. 

“Oh– Yeah. I can do that. Any place good?” He noted a small stage as he looked around, wondering if she’d want to sit a bit closer to it or if she’d prefer sitting towards the back.

WENDY

“Close to the stage would be perfect.” And it would because Wendy wanted to serenade Ichabod. Sure she was singing as a big fuck you to Nimble but in a way it was the way she was proving to herself she was doing this for herself too.

She had lost the joy of singing once and she wouldn’t let someone take that away from her now.

Heading over to get their drinks Wendy let the appropriate people know she was here and to figure out when she could head up on stage before making it back down to Ichabod.

“I hear there’s a lot of thing people do here from poetry to performances.”

ICHABOD:

Doing as asked, Ichabod easily found a table near the front with the stage in view. Already there was someone there reading what sounded like the saddest poem he’d ever heard. His focus was on that as Wendy made her way back over with their drinks.

“Yeah? S’like a… coffee house vibe. The girl up there is pretty good. Kinda sad but good,” he commented easily. “Have you ever performed here? Or just at the Court?” 

WENDY

Wendy couldn't help the little smirk on her face at the question. Sure she hadn't performed anywhere other than the Court but there was a first time for everything.

"Its as if you write stories and can tell what's about to happen." Wendy teased as the person stepped off the stage and she was gestured on stage.

"I wanted to perform just for you." Wendy stated stepping onto the stage to sing. (Everything you do - he is we)

ICHABOD:

“Just call me a psychic,” he gave a cheeky grin before it turned more into a softer, more surprised smile. It had only been a question but he wouldn’t protest at all. He enjoyed watching Wendy sing. Loved how he could tell just how much she loved it.

He watched, enraptured, as she performed. And as he took in the words she sang, he felt a small blush coat his cheeks. Yes, she’d said she wanted to perform for him but he hadn’t been expecting something so… personal. 

As she finished, he clapped, probably the loudest in the building. He even stood as she got off the stage so he could wrap his arms around her and kiss her gently. “Think that might have been your best performance I’ve seen.” 

WENDY

Wendy melted into his arms kissing him back just as gently her hand resting on his cheek. “You are too kind with your words.” Wendy mused with a grin when they pulled apart. “I was thinking of doing this more often. Smaller, more intimate compared to the Court.” It wasn’t her first choice but she kind of enjoyed this more. Especially as another headed on stage.

A mix of cultures and performance styles all together.

“Will you come back with me?”

ICHABOD:

“Of course,” he answered quickly and easily. He wouldn’t ever pass up a chance to watch Wendy perform. And he enjoyed it in this way better. Here he wasn’t distracting her from work. He didn’t have to feel bad about possibly distracting her from customers. It was selfish but he didn’t care. 

Pulling away from her, he took her hand in his and sat, pulling her into his lap so that they could watch the other performers. 

Yeah, he’d do this any day of the week she wanted. 

[jerzwriter]

Friends* Part 7: ... so this is how it ends?

Book:                   Open Heart (AU)

Pairing:                Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey MacTavish)

Rating:                 Teen

Category:            AU – Angsty Fluff – Fluffy Angst? Don’t want to give it away. Lol

Summary:           They’re going to be friends again.  They’re going to make it work. That’s the plan.  But when some secrets are revealed, how will it all end?

Words:                 4216

A/N:                     AND THIS IS THE END!!! WOO HOO.  The 3 parter became a 4, became a 5, and you know that story.  Here it is – the ending.  I hope you enjoyed it.  Somehow I deleted the final scene and had to redo it this morning, so I hope it’s as good as I had hoped.  THANK YOU for reading this series.  I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

@choicesmonthlychallenge - Flufftober - I Love You @choicesficwriterscreations - Naughty & Nice - First Confession

SERIES MASTERLIST

TOBIAS & CASEY MASTERLIST

CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS.

Tobias walked into the cafeteria the following afternoon with more vigor than he'd shown in some time. He hadn’t seen Casey all morning and hoped to beat her there. He smiled at the thought—after all, he always beat her there, and he had nothing to worry about. So, imagine his surprise when he walked in and found her seated at their usual table, deeply immersed in a book with two covered plates of food in front of her. 

He half smiled as he sauntered over, still unsure what he would say. She looked simply radiant, as always, which didn’t make things any easier. But there was something different; her hair was pinned up, and the silk button-up shirt she wore under her lab coat was far more professional than usual. At another time, he would have made a joke about a librarian fantasy he's had since high school, but those jokes would no longer work... another reminder of how much had changed.

Casey didn't see him approaching, and he was relieved she looked serene... or was it distant? He felt his pulse quicken, but this had to be done. This was Casey, his Casey, no matter what, no matter how… he needed her in his life, and they had to work through the awkwardness to find their new place.

“Hey,” he smiled as he approached.

“Hey,” she nervously smiled back. “I took the liberty of getting you the seared tuna so you wouldn’t have to wait in line.”

He smiled, recalling a past lunch when he had done the same thing. “You're Reducing yourself to stealing my lines now, are we?”

Casey gently shrugged. “Only if it works. Thanks for meeting me.”

“Of course, I’m meeting you. We both know I’d deny you nothing.”

Open mouth - insert foot. He knew he made a mistake at once, and Casey's raised brow confirmed it.

“Now, we both know that’s not true, Tobias. And if we’re going to get our friendship back to any semblance of what it once was, we have to be grounded in the truth. Agreed?”

“Agreed. That was stupid of me, I….”

“It’s OK. We’re both bound to say or do stupid things until we learn what our new thing looks like.”

“Our new thing?”

“It's just a word. What do Tobias and Casey 3.0 look like? 1.0  was pretty great, and, well, so was 2.0... until it wasn't. So,” she sighed. “Where do we go from here?”

While the remainder of their lunch was uncomfortable, it was peppered with just enough moments of tenderness and levity to remind them that what they had was worth fighting for. They each confessed how much it hurt to see something that once brought so much joy turn into… this. But it was a start, a start they were grateful for.

Boundaries were needed, and Casey made it clear she wasn’t ready to hear about his “thing” with Claudia or any other conquests that came along. Not now, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be. Tobias agreed; he truly wanted her to be happy but wasn’t prepared to hear her gush about it himself.  

“So double dates were out of the question,” Casey teased, trying to break the tension.

“I think that’s a given. At least for now."

“But lunch again tomorrow? Is that doable?"

“I’d like that,” he smiled. “I really would.”

As they exited the cafeteria doors, Tobias felt more content than he had in months, and he turned to Casey with a broad smile.  

“It’s going to be OK,” he smiled. “I don’t know when, and I don’t know how… but I know one day… we're going to be OK.”

“Yeah,” she smiled back. “I know it, too. We’ll make sure of it.” 

~~~~~

Two months later….

“So then the jackass tells me I haven’t come up with a proper diagnosis,” Tobias grumbled, tossing his napkin on the table with disgust. 

Casey grimaced while twirling her pasta around her fork. “And he’s basing that on what, exactly?”

“A YouTube video. What else?”

“Trying to practice medicine in the new age of misinformation,” she laughed ruefully.

“Or, as I like to call it, the age of sheer stupidity."

“Oh, I agree. I was just being nice.”

“Yeah,” he smirked before biting into his sandwich. “You’ve always been the nice one.”

“You’re plenty nice, too,” she chirped. “I just never said it because I didn't want to ruin your reputation.”

He glanced at her with an endearing smirk that still made her heart melt.

“And it’s appreciated,” he laughed. “I wanted to thank you again.”

“For? Keeping your shitty reputation intact?”

“Well, that too! But I meant agreeing to have dinner this week. I’m glad we get to take our friendship out of the cafeteria again.”

“Oh, shit! About that…”

Tobias raised a brow in concern. “You changed your mind?”

“No,” she smiled, sensing his trepidation. “I’m looking forward to it, too, but I need a raincheck. I completely forgot that I had plans that night.”

“Oh, OK,” he said with relief. “If you can’t do Saturday, I have Sunday open.”

“Unfortunately, I’ll be gone the whole weekend,” she groaned. 

“You forgot about a whole weekend?” he snickered. “Sounds like enjoyable plans.”

“It’s my family reunion in Pennsylvania. You know how much I look forward to that.”

“Ahh,” he nodded. “The dreaded family reunion. I really don’t know why you bother going.”

“We’ve covered this countless times. Only some of them are assholes, and I honestly want to see the rest.”

“Mmm,” he shrugged. “Sorry I couldn’t help you out with that last year.”

“That’s OK. It’s not like you wanted to get the norovirus.”

“You can say that again,” he laughed. “Hey, look at the bright side. At least you’re going with a boyfriend in tow this year. Since that’s your family’s main bone of contention, you may actually be able to enjoy it this time.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “About that….”

Tobias’s brow furrowed, taking her in with both curiosity and concern.

“What’s up?”

“I'm going alone. Jake and I… we broke up.”

“You did?” His eyes grew wide. “I’m… I’m sorry. When did this happen?”

“About six weeks ago.”

“Six weeks? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because… relationship talk was off the table, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded. “Part of our friendship renegotiation. But I kind of feel like, if I’m your friend, I should be there for you.” 

“We’re still testing the waters T, and back then, we barely had our toes in. I was dealing with a lot. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t tell you.”

“No,” he reassured. “Not at all. I get it. But… if you did ever need to talk….”

She tilted her head with a sly grin. “It’s OK, T.  Sienna had it all under control.”

“I’m sure she did. Far better than I ever could. But…” he trailed off with a sad laugh.

“What is it?”

“It’s just,” he stammered. “In the past, Sienna did the heavy lifting in these situations. But my role was to tell you how amazing you are and what an asshole the guy was… no matter what.”

“Am I no longer amazing?”

“No. I’m just one of the assholes now.”

“Tobias…”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that."

“It’s OK. Like I said, things have gotten much better, but we’re still finding our way.”

“You’re right. But are you OK? Seriously?”

“I am,” she answered with confidence. “I really am.”

“Just sucks with the reunion coming up. What timing.”

“Eh,” Casey shrugged. “Bad timing is the story of my life. But I can handle my family."

“Of this, I am sure,” Tobias smiled with a gleam in his eye.

They finished their lunch in comfortable silence, but Tobias had something on his mind. Just before they were preparing to leave, he built up his courage.

“You know, we could follow through on last year's plans.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Casey asked.

“I mean about your family reunion. I was going to be your pretend boyfriend last year until the stomach bug got me, but if you want….”

His words still hung in the air when Casey’s fork hit her plate, and a pained expression he hadn’t seen on her in weeks suddenly reappeared.

“Tobias,” she interrupted, her voice kind but firm. “I’m really glad that we’ve been able to reestablish something between us, and I hope one day we can get back to what we were. But….”

“But?”

“But with everything that’s happened, I don't think us playing fake boyfriend or girlfriend is anything that we can do again."

“I’m sorry, Case… I….”

“No,” she gently touched his hand, both taken aback by how much a simple touch filled them with warmth. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s fine. Besides,” she said, pulling her hand back. “Fake or not, I’m sure Claudia wouldn’t be thrilled about you spending a weekend away with me. She hasn’t been comfortable around me since that night at Donahue’s.”

“Yeah,” Tobias chuckled. "About that….”

“What?”

“Claudia and I aren’t together anymore. We haven’t been since that night.”

“You what?” she sputtered. “Why didn’t you… you know what… don’t answer that… I know the answer. Was it because of… what happened with us that night?” 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “We went back to my house after and, well… I was still in a bad place. She told me that she was fine with us being casual, just fun; that’s what she wanted, too. But she wasn’t OK with being a stand-in when I clearly wanted someone to be with someone else. So..."

“Oh,” Casey said, looking down at her hands. “I see….”

“Is that happened with you and Jake?”

She raised her eyes with a smirk. “So we’re giving up on that not talking about relationships clause?”

“You don't have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine. You know our schedules are always so crazy?”

Tobias nodded.

“Well, because of that, I thought Jake wouldn’t realize I was avoiding him. That was pretty shitty of me, I know. But, I just needed time….”

“Time?”

“Time to come to terms with my feelings… for you. After we talked that night… I had to stop lying to myself, and I should have been upfront with Jake, but I wasn’t. So two weeks later, he was waiting for me when I got out of work. He told me that he knew I was crazy about you from the start. Apparently, it was pretty clear to others,” she shrugged. “But, he didn't think you returned my feelings, so he assumed I’d get over it, and we'd have a shot. And you know what? He may have been right. Because if I had met Jake before… us… I think we could have worked. Anyway… he asked if I thought I’d be getting over you anytime soon… and I had to be honest. I wasn’t going to be. So he said he was out, and I couldn’t blame him.”

“I’m sorry….” Tobias whispered.

“Are you?” she asked.

“I… I… are you?”

“Am I what?” she asked.

“Are you… over me?”

She sat back and closed her eyes, allowing her thoughts to process before answering. “It doesn’t matter. We’re making great progress on our friendship, and in time I know….”

Tobias all but lunged to her side, taking her hands in his.

“Are you over me, Casey? Or is there a chance….”

“Or nothing,” she blurted, retreating at once. “Or nothing. Whatever feelings I do or don’t have are mine to deal with. We’re repairing our friendship, and we’re doing well! So let’s leave all the messy parts that nearly destroyed it in the past.”

“But what if we could be more?”

“NO!” Casey yelled, her cheeks bright red as heads turned their way. “No, Tobias. I nearly lost you, and I’m not chancing that again. You were right. It doesn’t matter what we feel if we both want different things. And I do want to be introduced as someone’s girlfriend, and I want them to be beaming with pride as they say it. I wouldn’t be able to go on forever as your… whatever… So, my feelings are my feelings to deal with, and I’d rather not know yours, OK? Somehow, it’s easier for me to move on thinking we don’t want each other than knowing we do, but we can never be. I always want you in my life.. in some capacity… I can’t lose you,” her voice began to break. “So, can you respect my wishes?”

He could tell her that it didn’t have to be that way. He had never imagined a life where he’d want something more, but with her, the possibility seemed real. He could have told her he still pictured her next to him in bed each night and wished she was there every morning. He could tell her he loved her. He loved her more than he ever thought possible. The words lived in his mind, but fear and self-doubt prevented them from reaching his tongue. She was right. They couldn’t risk losing each other again, so he said...

“OK.”

Casey took a shuddering breath and formed a weak smile.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “T, I…”

“What is it?” he asked, almost too anxious for her words as she faltered.

“Can I skip lunch tomorrow? Just tomorrow? We can resume as soon as I’m back from the reunion. I just need….”

“Whatever you need, Casey,” he said with such sincerity it nearly gripped her heart. “I’ll give you whatever you need. Just promise me... you’ll come back?”

“Of course I will,” she promised. “Our friendship,” she said, taking his hand. “It's forever. Thank you for understanding.”

“No need to thank me. I’m not doing anything to screw this up again. I swear.”

“Good,” she said, standing from her seat and only letting go of his hand when she was at his side. Whispers began to spread through the cafeteria when she leaned over and tenderly kissed the top of his head, refusing to rush as she relished the feel of him against her lips. With his eyes shut tight, he savored the feeling as he admonished himself for not having the strength to go for it all.

“So, lunch on Monday?” she said, standing tall.

“Yes... and good luck this weekend. I can't wait to hear how it went."

~~~~~

The day was much warmer than the forecast predicted, and for once, Casey’s tendency to overpack was a blessing. If not for that, she wouldn’t be wearing the adorable baby blue sundress she was in now. She had received many compliments on it, and they helped sustain her as she braced for the chastising that was sure to come.

“Remember,” her Dad said, standing behind her on the buffet line. “Just one word and I’ll gladly unleash thirty years of fury on anyone who upsets my little girl.”

Casey giggled as she plopped a spoonful of potato salad onto her Chinette plate.

“But, Dad, then you won’t be invited to any of Mom’s family’s events ever again.”

“Are you trying to encourage or discourage me?” he winked.

“Thanks, Dad,” she smiled. “I love knowing you always have my back, but I can handle these people.”

“Of that, I am sure,” he grinned.

Casey lowered her eyelids, her mind returning to Tobias saying those exact words to her just days before, but she quickly shook it off.

"I’m going to go sit at the table under the tent, Dad. Care to join me?”

“By your Aunts Edna and Mary? Are you out of your mind? That’s the lion’s den right there.”

“And where do you suggest I eat then?”

“We can go to my car?”

“Dad,” she laughed. “I’ll be fine.”

The conversation was pleasant, at least for the first fifteen minutes. Casey had done an excellent job of ignoring stupid comments she had overheard all day:

“Did you see Casey? She looks so beautiful! I don’t know how she’s not married yet.”

Eye roll.

“Casey!” Her cousin Ashley shrieked, “Oh my God, did you meet my fiance yet? You will be coming to the wedding, right? Hopefully, one day, I can return the favor.”

Walk away.

“You know, thirty is really pushing it, and you should settle down before no one wants you.”

Ignore.

But now, the questions were coming as quickly, and her appetite diminished with each one. Her Dad looked at her from across the yard and silently offered his services. That garnered a smile from Casey, but she knew better than to take him up on it.

“Your cousin Ashley is five years younger than you,” Edna informed.

“Yes, Aunt Edna. I’m aware of our ages.”

“Well, she’s getting married this fall! You could have done that at her age, too.”

“At her age, I was second in my class at one of the most prestigious medical schools in America. I had other priorities.”

“Sure,” Mary jumped in. “But will those priorities keep you warm at night?”

“No,” Casey smiled. “But my weighted blanket does that so well. I'm good!”

“You have an answer for everything!" Mary scowled. "But who will take care of you in your old age?”

“So, that’s why I should marry?” Casey retorted, “For a caregiver?”

“I’m just saying….”

“I know what you’re saying. What you’re both saying.”  Casey took a deep breath and considered walking away, but after thirty years of this treatment, she had enough. 

“The problem is, she doesn’t know what it’s like to be in love,” Edna nodded. “When it happens, she'll change her tune."

That was it.

“You know what,” Casey spat. “I’ve had just enough of this! Thirty years too much! Thank goodness my parents had the good sense to raise me better and not pound these ridiculous ideas into me. I’ve known since I was a child that I determine my self-worth and not being in a relationship with a man - or woman, for that matter! I’m happy! I live in a city I love and have the best friends a person could ever hope for. I’m doing that job I always dreamed of at the best hospital in this country. I’ve been able to make changes to get healthcare to people who wouldn’t have it otherwise, and I am so happy and so fulfilled. I want every little girl here to know that means so much more than having an overpriced ring on my finger!”

She looked up to find her Dad and her Mother, too, nodding with approval. While she very well could have stayed, Casey had enough. Returning to her hotel for a quiet night alone was her sole desire. She stood from the table and began to walk away but turned around one more time.

“And for the record, I know what it's like to be in love. It's wonderful, and when I'm lucky enough to have it, I cherish it because it’s a rare and precious gift. But it’s not the only thing that matters, and it doesn’t define who I am. Do you know how many times I considered not coming to family events because of the way you treat me and others? Last year, you were all so interested in meeting my ‘boyfriend.’ Well, you know what, let me tell you about my ‘boyfriend,’ he….”

“He has a terrible habit of being late,” a voice boomed from behind. Casey felt every hair on her body stand at attention. It couldn't be... She was sure she was hallucinating when she turned and saw Tobias strolling her way. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Casey. You were doing such a good job,” he smiled. "Do you want to continue?”

“Uhm, no," she stammered. "Why don't you take it from here... I'm curious to see what you have to say."

With a delicate smile that would live in her memory forever, Tobias locked his eyes on her. He was speaking for everyone to hear, but only one person mattered.

“I’m always late. Not for our lunch dates... that’s usually you,” he laughed nervously. “But for the things that really matter, it’s me. And I’m not just talking about this reunion; I'm not just talking about today. I shouldn’t have been here an hour ago. I should have been here years ago, from the moment I realized you were my person, Casey. I hope you'll forgive me."

All eyes shifted to Casey, standing dazed with her mouth agape.

“What… what’s changed?” She whispered.

“When I woke up this morning, you were the first thing I thought of. That happens more often than you know. I was worried about you and wished I was here. I screwed things up, but only because I was afraid. Now, I realize, the only thing I have to fear is not having you in my life. I can handle anything else as long as I have you by my side... the rest doesn’t matter.”

He walked to her, taking her hand in his... delighted to see how willingly she offered it to him.

“So, while you absolutely don't need anyone to be the phenomenal woman you are, I'd like to be considered for the position or your boyfriend. That is if you’ll have me. I’m sorry I’m late, Casey, but I promise, if you want me, I’ll never let you go again."

“Wait," she said, shaking her head. "This is real, right? I mean, it feels like it is, but it could be a dream. I’m not really sure.”

“Darlin', I’m happy to pinch you if that would help, but with your entire family watching, I probably shouldn't do that."

She flipped her head back, breaking into melodious laughter.

“So it is you,” she chuckled. Lifting her hand to caress the outline of his cheek, she smiled tenderly. “It is you, Tobias. It's always has been you. You really want to be my boyfriend?”

“Well, I mean, for now,” he snickered. “I don't think it will be too long before we're talking about upgrading that title, but for now... yeah. Nothing in this world could make me happier. So… do I have the job?”

The silence hung as Casey relished the moment, and then she heard another voice holler out.

“Oh, Casey, for the love of God, answer the man!” her father teased. “If not for him, WE are all dying to know.”

“Thanks for the assist,” Tobias said, but his eyes never left Casey.

“Of course you do!” She beamed. “Of course. I love you, Tobias Carrick.”

“And I love you, Casey MacTavish.”

She jumped into his arms as her family whooped and hollered around them. Their lips crashed together and refused to part as he lifted her in his arms, only breaking the kiss when he placed her feet back on the ground. 

“So, are you gonna introduce me to all these people as your boyfriend, or what?” he grinned.

“Eventually," she winked. "I was just heading back to my hotel room. I think I have some better ideas for us there."

“Oh, sure, you’re ashamed of me,” he teased. “Is that it?”

“Everyone!” Casey yelled. “This is my boyfriend, Tobias Carrick, and I love him to bits! But we’re leaving because... we have much better things to do right now!"

“She loves me,” Tobias beamed, pulling her close in his arms.

“I do,” she giggled. “Now, do you want to stay here and eat Aunt Edna’s crappy potato salad, or would you prefer my offerings back at the hotel.”

“Everybody, it’s been great meeting you,” Tobias blurted as the couple ran toward the gate. "I'm sure we'll see each other again...."

“We’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow,” Casey laughed, but after catching a glimpse of her new boyfriend, she reconsidered. "Or, maybe not!"

They ran to his car hand in hand, laughing uncontrollably until she pulled him close. Their lips happily found their home once again, and this time they knew there was no letting go.

“You’re sure about this, Carrick. I love you, and if we’re going to do this, then….”

“Then it’s forever. I love you, Casey.”

“Friends forever?” she winked.

“Friends for sure, but so, so much more.”

(This one gets and… and they lived happily ever after.)

Tagging separately.

[fatiguing-thoughts]

"Always Bella" - Jacob Black x Reader

Summary: Summary: Jacob x reader angst. Bella always comes first. I'm going to hurt your feelings so if you don't want that please don't read this.

Read: Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part IV / Part V

Weeks.

It had been weeks since I had heard from my best friend Jacob. Our friendship had felt a bit different since Bella Swan had moved back to Forks, however he had never ignored me like this.

How did we go from spending every waking moment together to this?

No answers to my phone calls, texts, or knocks at his door.

I felt my face contort with pain as I think about all the laughs we shared, staying up in his garage until 3 am working on his rabbit, just the two of us. Embry and Quil stopping by to poke fun... until Bella came back to town.

Now it was us... and Bella. Or just him and Bella while I sat on my couch on our usual pizza nights.

Jacob and I progressively spent less time together one on one. I was watching my best friend follow this girl around like a lost puppy, willing to do anything for her, though she was not willing to do the same.

Jacob was like the sun, to anyone he blessed with his presence. Now, it seemed to be that he was Bella's sunshine, no longer able to warm my life. Though, she seemed to be a cloud of darkness that rained over his head daily; I couldn't understand why it was her.

Why not me?

It was always Bella.

Though, eventually Jake disappeared, too. He joined in with Sam, Paul, Embry, and Jared. Despite always making fun of them, he disappeared completely to hang out with them.

So when Bella Swan called me to see if I had heard from Jacob recently, I was both shocked and relieved to know that he abandoned her, too.

"Please, (Y/N)... We need to go see him." She begs through the phone. "What if he's not okay?"

The thought of Jacob not being okay was enough to send my stomach into the deepest pit of pain.

As much as he was killing me, I couldn't stand the thought of him in pain. The fact that he was being a dick to Bella too was comforting in some sick way.

"Alright." I mutter into the phone. "I'll see you when you get here."

I quickly hung the phone up and put my shoes on, awaiting the rumbles of Bella's old truck.

The shaking of my leg was interrupted momentarily as her truck pulled in front of my house. I stood up and made my way over to the orange, rusting vehicle.

"Hey." She murmured.

"Hi." I spoke softly, leaning my head against the window.

Bella wasn't stupid, she knew how I felt for Jacob.

She knew of the riff she caused between us.

She always looked at me with a sympathetic look, though I know she didn't truly care for how much it hurt.

Overall, it sucked for me. However, I cared more for how much she was hurting Jacob.

I knew as soon as Edward came back, she would once again put Jacob right back in his place. Back where he really belonged for Bella.

Jacob was a distraction, he was a place holder. He was just another person to pick up the pieces of Bella Swan. And she knew that. But to Jacob, she was everything.

It hurt to watch him pine so hard over someone who would never return that affection.

I felt his pain.

The abrupt stop and screeching of Bella's brakes was enough to pull me back down to reality. I looked out of the window to see the rain slide down, leaving trails of water behind.

That's when I saw him.

Jacob.

He easily grew a foot, his hair no longer long like I enjoyed. A tattoo on his now buff arm, steam radiating from his skin in the rain.

"What the fuck..." I mutter to myself.

The slamming shut of Bella's door shook me, bringing me back to reality once again. I struggled to find the door handle, trying to catch up to her walking over to Jacob. I quickly managed to get out of the truck, almost running to catch up.

"Bella go home. I don't want you here." He scolds, refusing to meet her gaze. I had to hold back a smile as I heard his words, as I didn't need to be openly appreciative of his coldness towards the girl.

"No, what happened to you?" She demands, walking closer to him.

"No. I don't want to see you." He huffs.

"Please, look at me." She pleads, pushing a hand onto his chest.

"Jake..." I whisper to myself, still trying to take everything in.

His eyes finally met hers and his face contorted to one of disappointment. Like he was waiting for something that would never come.

"Go home Bella." He says once again, shaking her off and pushing forward.

"Jacob, please." I whisper, my hand grazing his feverish arm.

"(Y/N)... please don't do this." He turns to look at me with a somber, sympathetic face.

"Do what?" I ask with a shaky voice, finally tearing my eyes from his entirely different physique to his chestnut brown eyes.

His face fell into one of tranquility, his clouded eyes in a complete daze as they stared into mine. The tenseness that was once in his body left, his shoulders and jaw falling slack. I suddenly felt a strong pull to Jacob, one stronger than before, somehow. Looking into Jake's eyes felt like most intense peace I have ever felt.

"Jacob?" Bella's wavering voice chimed.

Jacob's gaze finally left mine, turning to Bella disappointedly.

"I can't believe this..." He murmurs.

"Believe what? What just happened Jacob?" I ask, a pit forming in my stomach once again.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." He huffs, turning back to me sympathetically. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I can't do this. I don't want to see you ever again."

His words cut like knives, I felt the world around me spin, all the air left my body.

"What?" I whisper as tears prick my eyes.

"Jacob, what happened to you?" Bella asks, anger framing her face.

"Why don't you ask those filthy bloodsuckers you love so much?" He spits, before turning back to me, shaking his head in disappointment.

Bella was taken aback, as was I.

What does that even mean? Filthy bloodsuckers?

"Goodbye, don't come back again." He warns.

And just like that, he ran off into the woods to meet up with Embry, Sam, Paul, and Jared.

Leaving me confused, hurt, and stuck in the rain with Bella Swan.

_____________________________________

Might do a part two, what do you think?

i found some time after finishing some assignments I had to do. I hope you enjoy and I should get part two up soon.

Read: Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part IV / Part V

[idy-ll-ique]

They Always Do.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: insecurity

Requested: Nope

Summary: "you're not worried? he seems to be spending a lot of time with her..." "no" "why not?" "because i braced myself for this months ago. they leave, they always do. it's nothing new"

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! The first part of this fic is fluff, angst in the middle, fluff again at the end. Nothing too extreme, just a little one-shot. Enjoy!

---

"Sebastian, Y/N, so glad you made it!" Susan Downey smiled warmly at the couple. "Of course, we couldn't miss the 56th birthday of the one and only Iron Man," Sebastian chuckled, walking into the house with his girlfriend. He put his arm around Y/N, observing the place. "Guys! Hello!" they heard.

"Mr Downey," Y/N greeted politely, turning to smile at the birthday boy. "You must be the girlfriend," he grinned, pulling her into a bear hug. "Yep, that's me." Then he turned to Sebastian, frowning. "Why didn't you introduce her to everyone sooner?" Y/N laughed as Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging.

"Don't ask me, she was the one too chicken to meet you!" Sebastian defended himself, narrowing his eyes at his girlfriend. She snorted as Robert let go of her, returning to Sebastian's side. "I guess that's on me," she sighed dramatically, making both men laugh. "Well, enjoy yourselves! Have a drink, have fun!"

With that, he walked away. Sebastian noticed a server holding up a tray of drinks and called him over. He handed a glass to Y/N and took one for himself, taking a sip. "Thanks for bringing me over, honey," Y/N smiled and he turned to her, scoffing. "You're my girlfriend! God knows they were dying to meet you," he laughed, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

With that they went around the place, talking to new people, old friends and making new acquaintances. Y/N had a lot of fun meeting Sebastian's co-stars, and especially loved Elizabeth Olsen. Y/N was a huge Marvel fan and one of her favorite works of the MCU was WandaVision. Y/N had fangirled a bit, not gonna lie.

Like that passed an hour. After her feet started hurting, Sebastian decided it was time for the woman to sit down, have a drink and chill out. "Okay doll, here's a glass of champagne, if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call me, okay? I'm going there, with Chris and Anthony. I love you." She smiled when he gave her a quick kiss.

"I love you too, and don't worry, I'll find you easy. This place isn't that big."

"I heard that!"

Laughing at her antics, Sebastian gave his girlfriend one more loving kiss before prancing out of the room in search of his best friends, Chris Evans and Anthony Mackie. Y/N relaxed on the comfortable couch with a sigh, sipping on her drink. It all began a year ago, very cheesily, might I add.

Y/N was at her favourite coffee shop when he had walked in. Immediately, fans had him surrounded, but she didn't go over to him. She stayed seated, looking at him, wishing she could go over but she knew how stressful fan interactions were for celebrities. Sebastian had, unfortunately, caught her eye and she had turned beet red, burying her face in her laptop.

He had found her absolutely winsome and after the crowd around him had dissipated, he had wandered over to her table and introduced himself. She was flustered around him, which made him tingly inside. And he had blurted out, "Wanna meet here next Saturday at 7?" They kept their promise and that's how they started dating.

A year ago.

That was a healthy amount of time.

Right?

Y/N couldn't help but have her doubts. All her previous relationships were pathetic failures, where the guy usually got bored of her within 3 months. But now, she had braced herself for rejection (which she knew deep down wasn't coming but it pays to be careful). "Hey."

Startled, she turned to see a kinda young, kinda drunk woman sitting next to her, looking up at her with doe eyes. "Hi," Y/N smiled back politely. "You're— you're the woman!" She had started slurring her words, which made Y/N frown a bit. "I'm… what?" she blinked. "The girl! Who came over with Sebastian Stan, you're his girlfriend!" The woman laughed loudly.

A few heads turned towards them but quickly looked away when they realized that the girl was drunk. "Yep, that's me. Why?" Y/N was now amused. As they talked, she didn't notice Sebastian walking into the room. He had come back to ask Y/N something but had paused in his tracks when he saw her frowning at the young, drunk woman.

Then he inched closer, unabashedly eavesdropping on her conversation. "Yep, saw him spending a lot of time with Ms Lizzie Olsen. If he was mine, girl, I would take that man home and show him who truly belongs to him, if you know what I mean," the girl winked and a sad smile bloomed on Y/N's face. "They're good friends, of course they're gonna spend time together."

Sebastian smiled at her answer. He knew she was different, she didn't get easily jealous and he liked that, since it reduced the number of arguments they had by a lot. His jealousy? Well, that's a story for another time… "You don't mind? He seems to be spending a lot of time with her…" the drunk woman frowned at Y/N.

Well, she was drunk, she wouldn't remember this night anyway, so maybe… it would be good to get some things off her chest.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I braced myself for this months ago. They leave, they always do. It's nothing new," Y/N admitted, swirling the champagne that was swimming in her half-full glass. Sebastian's heart shattered into a million pieces at her words. Before the words were even completely out of her mouth, tears had started stinging in his eyes.

"Y/N?" Startled yet again, Y/N turned to see Sebastian smiling at her. "Seb! Hi, thought you were with your friends!" she grinned at him. "I— uh— something came up, we need to go," he spoke quietly, fidgeting with his hands. Y/N's brows furrowed but she got up, collecting her coat and her purse.

"Can we at least say Happy Birthday to Robert?"

"Yeah, yeah of course." Sebastian managed a weak smile when she gave him a kiss on the cheek, going off to find Robert and Susan. She told them something urgent came up and they allowed the couple to leave. "Seb, let's go!" He followed her out of the house, meekly trailing behind her, the words she said ringing in his ears.

They leave, they always do. It's nothing new.

How had this woman, practically a Goddess, had such bad experiences that she was forced to think that way? He was never going to leave her, having found the perfect woman at last. He got into the driver's seat of his car, and the car ride home was quiet. Y/N was getting anxious. What happened to him? Did something happen at the party?

Once they were home, Sebastian couldn't help himself. "S—" Y/N yelped when he crushed her to his body, hugging her tightly. He took both of them to their shared bedroom, sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled her on his lap and buried his face in her chest, breaking down. "Seb, honey, what's wrong?" Y/N cooed, getting insanely paranoid.

The crying didn't stop for 15 minutes. Y/N, in a futile attempt to get him to stop, was running a hand through his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, holding him close. When he took in a shuddering breath, he pulled away and finally looked Y/N in her eyes. "Now are you going to tell me what happened?" she smiled gently.

He took her hand, pressing a kiss to her wrist. "I'm sorry," he croaked out and Y/N frowned. "Sorry for what?" He shook his head, burying his face back in his safe haven. Except, Y/N wasn't having any of that. She pulled him away and dropped a soft kiss to his forehead. "Tell me what happened."

He took in another shaky breath.

"I… I heard you."

"Heard me?" Y/N blinked. "Yes. You were… you were talking to that girl on the couch and she was— she was talking about how I seem to be spending a lot of time with Lizzie and you— you said you didn't mind but she kept on insisting and you said they leave. they always do. I'm not going to leave you, Y/N, I promise. You're one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I'm not letting you go."

Oh.

"Seb," Y/N whispered, her own eyes now filled to the brim with tears. "Don't cry," he chuckled with a watery voice, wiping her tears off. "It's just— all my relationships before you… the guys were assholes. They always left 2-3 months in. I— I wasn't taking any chances with you, you know… plus, you're kind of a famous guy and you can get so many better women—"

He didn't want to hear it. Better than Y/N? Impossible. He pressed his lips to her, immediately deepening the kiss when she reciprocated. "I promise you, I cannot do any better than you." Y/N smiled shyly at his words and his heart filled with happiness. "Let's go to sleep."

Both of them tired from the crying, they got undressed without trying any funny business. Y/N put on her usual pair of shorts and one of Sebastian's huge t-shirts, getting into the bed where a boxer-clad Sebastian already lay. He pulled her into his arms and she rested her head on his chest, draping an arm around his taut abdomen.

"Comfy?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, doll, I love you."

"I love you too, Seb. Goodnight."

"...Never gonna leave you."

"Not a chance."

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a like if you liked it!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨1

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Yay, mob Clark. And I know what you’re saying right now, enough with Clark Kent! I get it haha. Promise, for a while, this will be the last I do of him. I have Lee fic in the work right now, the early development of medieval Peter, and I’m still sitting on some Loki ft. an exchange student... and then all my other series of course!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stood against the wall, chewing your lip as you looked around the gallery. You should be ecstatic, you should be floating around on a cloud, but all you could feel was crushing anxiety. It was truly a dream come true; your art hanging on the wall. Only three pieces, but it was there, and your name was below it in print.

You tugged on the waist of your dress and teetered in your heels. It was a borrowed outfit, you couldn’t afford anything appropriate to the upscale venue. The classic starving artist, or almost. You slipped your phone from your purse and up your sleeve. You subtly checked the time and for the little chat icon in the corner. Still no message.

Marcus was almost an hour late. He texted just after the event opened to warn you he was caught up with work but you worried he wouldn’t show up at all. It wasn’t his fault his boss was a jackass but you weren’t prepared to face this alone. You dropped your phone back into your slender purse and snapped it shut.

Vanessa, the gallery owner, made you flinch as she appeared almost out of the air. You smiled at her shyly and stopped chewing your lip.

“You should mingle,” she said, “you have an interested buyer. You might have a few more if you come out from the corner.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” you confessed, “I-- thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“You earned it,” she touched your arm daintily, “all those hard hours working the back room, I couldn’t not hang a few pieces.”

You fixed your posture and tried to seem as confident as her. Your income came solely from hours of at-home data entry as you volunteered at the gallery in your few hours between. It was all worth it and maybe if you sold something tonight, Vanessa would feature you work again and you wouldn’t need to spend the bulk of your days staring at tiny font.

“So, where’s this buyer?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s my girl,” Vanessa trilled, “he seems very interested.”

She led you across the room, stopping to greet other artists and old friends with a kiss on the cheek and deep laughter. You’d met them all before as you were often working at these events. It was your first time as one of them.

When at last you neared your little stretch of the wall, a man stood with his head slightly back as he stared at your proto-renaissance portraits. He was tall and his broad shoulders strained the rich fabric of his jacket. His dark hair was neatly parted and a slight curl marked the front above the shadow of scruff poking out along his jawline.

“Mr. Kent,” Vanessa chimed, “I found her.”

He turned to look at you and his deep blue eyes struck you. He smiled between you and the gallery owner, his chiseled jaw even more defined by the gesture.

“This is Mr. Kent,” she introduced you in turn, “I believe he was interested in the larger piece.”

“All three, if you don’t have another buyer lined up,” he intoned, “I think they belong together.”

“All of them?” you raised your brows, “well, I, yeah, I guess--”

“We can put something together for you,” Vanessa interrupted your awkward stuttering, “let me just mark them.”

She took the silver pen she kept on a chain around her wrist and scribbled in the corner of the tags to mark them as sold. You were slightly numb at your disbelief. You were a bit reluctant to part with your work but the check would ease your grief.

“The way you use colours,” he said as he faced the paintings again, “I’ve recently had some work done in my house and I hate the sight of naked walls.”

“Thank you,” you said as you stepped a little closer and looked at your delicate strokes.

“Pardon me,” Vanessa rushed away as she beckoned to one of her assistants and prattled orders.

“Vanessa tells me you’re a new artist,” he said.

“New in a sense,” you said, “I guess, I’m officially an artist now.”

“Oh? I’m flattered. Your first buyer?”

“Besides some online fanart, yeah,” you replied, “so, Mr. Kent, what do you do?”

“Clark,” he corrected, “and a little bit of everything.”

An awkward silence took over and was thankfully interrupted by your name. You turned as Marcus rushed over and his shoes slipped on the polished floor. He reached you and kissed your cheek as he caught his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I got caught in traffic on the way over and then my oil light started flashing,” he gasped out.

“Hey, you’re here,” you rubbed his shoulder and straightened his tie without thinking as it hung at an angle.

“So, you sell anything yet?” he asked.

“Yes, actually, um, Mr-- Clark,” you gestured to the man standing patiently to the side, “he just bought all three.”

“Damn,” Marcus said, “guess I can hold onto my savings.”

“Marc,” you nudged his arm with your knuckles, “you know we can’t afford your cheesiness.”

“Sorry, uh,” Marcus laughed at himself, “I’m Marcus.”

He held out his hand and Clark shook it. His eyes strayed to you as his features sharpened just a little.

“You two…?” he ventured.

“Five years,” Marcus announced, “guess we’re going steady.”

“Oh,” Clark nodded placidly, “are you an artist too?”

“God no, I can hardly write my own name legibly,” Marcus kidded, “I’m a developer.”

“Computers,” Clark mused.

“Yeah, computers,” Marcus scoffed, “and you?”

“Own a couple businesses,” Clark shrugged.

“Must be successful if you can hang around here,” Marcus said and you elbowed him in embarrassment.

“I guess,” Clark smoothed his dark purple jacket and checked his watch, “I’ll let you two be. Maybe I’ll find something to go with these fine pieces.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, “I’m happy to see my work go to a good home.”

“I hope to see more in future,” he returned kindly.

He turned and carried on to the statue constructed of can tabs and greeted another suited man. You looked at Marcus as he leaned in to read the tags beneath your paintings. He stood and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, ten grand?” he hissed.

“Pretty good pay for one night,” you chirped, “glad you could make it.”

“Sorry again, I… I had to redo some code. Adam was in a mood so,” he shook his head and sighed, “let’s not talk about it. Let’s celebrate.” He peeked over at the server with a tray of stemmed flutes, “and you can decide what you’re going to buy me with that check.”

“Hush,” you chided as you took a glass of champagne, “now is not the time to go over bills.”

🎨

At the end of the night, you watched one of the assistants take down your canvas and you helped wrap them in paper and twine. As you finished a loopy knot, you were surprised by the figure beside you. You looked up and set the smallest piece atop the larger ones. Clark smiled as you moved to let him pick them up.

“All yours,” you said, almost mournful to see them go.

“Thanks,” he said as he tucked them easily under his thick arm, “I forgot earlier but do you have a card? Are you open for commissions?”

“You must have a lot of walls,” you looked down and opened your purse, “I have a card and I could try a commission.”

You slid out one of the cards that had lingered in your wallet for more than a year. You handed it to him and he read the flowery font before tucking it away in his jacket.

“I do… have a lot of walls,” he said with a smirk, “I’ll give you a call once these are hung.”

“O-okay,” you kept from wringing your hands and closed your purse, “thank you… again.”

“My pleasure,” assured, “have a good night.”

“Yeah, good night,” you said and watched him go.

You let out a breath and smiled to yourself. You would talk to Vanessa and get your cut of the check before you went. Then you could worry about getting Marcus home. He’d had a little too much champagne and you’d left him in the backroom so you could help with the clean-up.

Vanessa bid goodbye to one of her featured artists as you neared. She turned to you and threw up her hands in delight.

“Wonderful, darling,” she said, “you earned that wall.”

“Thanks,” you grinned bashfully.

“Really. That man has never bought a piece before,” she smirked, “I’ve been dying to get into his wallet for years.”

“I never saw him before…”

“Oh, well, yes, he has not been to many of these either. I often see him at other galleries,” she explained, “I hope you have some more for the next.”

“Um, yeah, I should be able to--”

“I’ll have the check for you tomorrow,” she patted your shoulder as her eye was caught by another, “go get your boyfriend out of my studio.”

You accepted your dismissal and turned on your heel. That was just Vanessa, steely but slightly flighty as well. Besides, you were exhausted and you would likely be dragging Marcus into a cab.

You found him slumped at the paint-splattered table. You shook him awake and smiled dopily as he opened his eyes.

“Babe,” he pushed his arm around you.

“Marcus,” you drawled in disappointment, “let’s get out of here.”

“Huh?” He looked around and hiccupped, “oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You had a long day,” you assured him as you rubbed his back and let him lean on you as he stood, “I’m just happy you showed up after all that nonsense.”

“Of course, babe,” he slurred and you helped him through the door.

You kept your head down as you slowly sneaked out past Vanessa but you didn’t miss her side-eye. It was best to be as covert as possible. You came out through the door and nearly dropped Marcus.

“Jesus, can I get a little help?” you snipped as you looked around for a yellow cab.

“Sorry, baby, sorry,” he got his feet flat but it hardly helped take his weight off of you.

You raised your hand to hail a cab and he slipped down your arm. Your ankle bent as you turned to try to catch him before you dropped him entirely. He was saved from hitting the ground as he was caught by another. You looked over his head as he was pushed up to his feet again. 

Clark kept his arm behind Marcus as you stared at him, “oh my god, thank you.”

“No problem,” he said as he steadied your boyfriend, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you lifted your foot and kept the weight off your ankle, “I just need to get a taxi.” You raised your hand again as you tried to see past the large man, “if you don’t mind getting him in--”

“You can ride with me,” he said brusquely as he turned with Marcus and peered back at you, “this way.”

“We can’t--”

“On that ankle,” he said as you began to limp after him, “you won’t get him out on your own.”

“Really, I’m fine--”

“I don’t mind,” he said coolly as he came to a silver sports car and balanced Marcus against him as he opened the door, “I’ll need an address.”

“Uh, oh,” you folded your hands, “thank you. Really, you’ve done too much.”

“It happens. I’ve had these nights,” he put Marcus across the seat and folded his legs up and shut the door, “you can take the front and tell me where I’m going.”

You hesitated and he opened the front door. You neared and hissed as you stumbled on your ankle. You caught yourself on his arm and quickly retracted your hand as you apologized. 

“It’s alright,” he said as you sat in the front seat. He knelt and gently took your ankle. His thumb rubbed the swollen joint, “you really banged yourself up.”

“I’ll be okay,” you assured him, “thanks.”

He let go and stood. He waited for you to turn your legs into the car and gently closed the door. He rounded to the other side and got in as he fished around for his keys. He turned the engine and gripped the wheel with one hand as he took out his phone. He placed it on the magnetic holder and his fingers flicked over the screen.

“Address?” he asked.

You recited it and winced as Siri responded, ‘calculating route’. You shrunk against the luxury leather and glanced at him. He let out a huff and steered into the mostly empty street.

“I’m sorry about all this--”

“No, don’t be,” he glanced in the rearview, “he must be happy for you.”

“Yeah, uh, I think he is,” you said as he followed the map directions, “I am too. I mean, it will go along way… uh, well, you know, things can be tough or--” you shrugged, “I mean, it’s not about the money.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to be paid,” he said lightly, “and I don’t mind paying for good art.”

You looked out the window as your cheeks burned. You could smell his cologne, subtle but strong. You played with your purse as your nerves brewed in your chest. You watched the sidewalks and the street lights as your surroundings grew more familiar.

He pulled up to your building. It wasn’t the greatest area and the brick façade was faded and cracked. Before you could get out, he was at your door. He offered his hand and helped you out as you leaned on the car. He let you go and opened the back and lifted Marcus out. He hooked your boyfriend’s arm over his shoulder and offered his other arm.

“Come on,” he said.

“Look, you don’t-- there’s an elevator.”

“I’d feel better if I got you inside,” he insisted, “especially in this area.”

You relented and took his arm and limped beside him up the steps. You took out your keys and went ahead of him as he dragged Marcus in. You went to the elevator and hit the button. The doors glided open and you stepped inside. He stood close in the small metal box and Marcus murmured dumbly at his side.

The doors dinged and he let you out first. He followed you down the hall and you unlocked your apartment and waved him inside. He carried Marcus to the couch at your direction and you leaned against the armchair as you bent your leg to check your ankle.

“You should put some ice on that,” Clark said as he neared, “get some sleep yourself.”

“Yeah, I will,” you assured, “thank you, again.”

You felt embarrassed as you eyed his expensive suit and looked around your tiny apartment. It must have been laughable to him. He hardly seem bothered as he retreated to the door.

“I’ll let you then,” he said, “and thank you. I really do like your work.”

The door shut in his stead and you heard his footsteps down the long hall until the door at the end swung open. You glanced at Marcus and shook your head. You weren’t as happy to have had him at the show then.

[mayans-sauce]

Gemma’s Daughter (1/?)

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Cursing, angst, yelling, cheating, heartbreak, physical fight

Request by anon which you can find HERE

A/N: thank you for the request! Sorry it’s a little late. I changed it up a bit by having Jax and Gemma still be alive as well as some other things. I’m really happy with how this turned out so I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it <3

Sign up HERE to join my taglist!

GROUP CHAT for updates!

Gif Credit: @pedropcl

This was the third time Angel’s phone went straight to voicemail. It was the middle of the night, and he said he would be home 3 hours ago for his and your movie night which at the end of it, you would share some thrilling life-changing news. You were worried sick about him not returning your calls, worried that something serious had happened. What if he was hurt? Or worse, dead? You decided to shoot him a text; maybe he was doing something important, making it so he couldn’t pick up right now.

📲 Angel😇

Baby, where are you? I’m worried! Please just let me know if you’re safe ok? I have something exciting to tell you. Love you❤️

You texted some of the other guys. None of them had heard anything from him. They told you not to worry. He was probably caught up with something and would turn up eventually. Luckily your brother Jax picked up when you called. You asked him for some guidance on if you should sound the alarm or wait until Angel gave off noise. Since he was in the same life as your husband, you figured he would know what’s best. He told you better to wait. That he was most likely dealing with something that had taken his full attention. If he didn’t turn up tomorrow, Jackson said he would take the drive over to help you look for him. You were so thankful for your big brother. He was always there to help you whenever he could. To protect and love you.

You refused to go to sleep before he came home or before he called you, so you knew he was safe and sound. Some movie was playing on the TV that you didn’t pay much attention to. The battle between you and your eyelids was still going strong. All of a sudden, you were woken up from your zombie state by the front door opening and closing. Footsteps that belonged to no other than Angel made their way into the dim-lit living room.

“Angel!” His movements were sort of clumsy. A sign that he had been drinking. You came to stand at his side. Holding him up by his forearm as it looked like he was going to faint face down ass up on the floor any second. Your nose scrunched up at the strong smell of the alcohol on him. “Angel, I was worried sick! Where were you?” “I was out with my brother.” His words had a pinch of sluggishness in them as he spoke. “We were supposed to have our movie night! We haven’t seen each other all week, and this was going to be our evening together.”

“Ugh,” he tugged himself out of your grasp, which took you by surprise. “Why are you so bossy all the time? I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.” His words started to sting a little, but you didn’t think that much of it. He was shitfaced drunk, and he wasn’t his usual self. “Angel I-“ “No, you listen here, I’m sick and tired of you always going; oh Angel this oh Angel that,” he tried to mimic your voice but failed miserably, “like shut up. Shut the fuck up for one goddamn second in your life and stop being so fucking clingy.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing from him. The tears in your eyes started to build up as you held two protective hands over your stomach. Your mouth was slightly agape in disbelief. “A-Angel ple-please-“ “No, I don’t fucking care right now. I’m leaving.” And just like that, he turned around and walked out. The force of the door slamming shut shook the whole house as you were left with an emptiness inside you.

The tears ran down your cheeks like it was pouring rain outside. Your body trembled at the anxiety and stress you were feeling at what just happened. You looked down at where your hands were laid over your stomach. “I-I’m so sorry li-little bean. I’m so so-sorry, my sweetheart.”

In the morning, you woke up in the worst state you have ever been in. The same clothes as yesterday were still on you. The pounding in your head wouldn’t seem to stop. Your eyes raw from crying, and your throat felt like rough sandpaper. Wrapping the blanket around yourself, you padded down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As you stared out the kitchen window, you saw your neighbor playing with their kids, which started the production of tears again.

A gasp left you of the sound from the front door opening and Angel’s voice calling for you. You met him in the living room—both of you staring at each other without saying a word. You should be mad at him, shouldn’t you? To scream at him for saying those hurtful things? But for some reason, your heart wouldn’t allow you to do so. You were just relieved that he had come home.

Angel was the first one to break the awkward silence. “Please… sit,” he pointed towards the sofa. You sat at one end while he took his place at the other. His face was in his hands. It looked like he had something to share with you. “Angel… what is it?” Your voice was nothing but a whisper. His eyes locked with yours and his heart broke when he saw what mess he had left you in. “I’m sorry for how I acted. Yelling at you like that…saying things that aren’t true… it’s not what you deserve. I don’t know what came over me and… I have something I need to tell you.” He looked up to you as tears welled up in his eyes. You gave him a slight nod, a sign that he could go ahead with whatever it was.

“When I left in the night, I was supposed to go over to pop's house to sleep. I didn’t take the bike because I was too shitfaced to drive, so I went on foot hoping that it would sober me up… and... I just kept walking and walking until I found myself… not at Felipe’s.” He peeked up to you from where he was looking down at the floor just a moment ago. His heart broke into microscopic pieces when he saw on your face that you knew where his story was most likely going. As much as he didn’t want to finish, he had to. He had to come clean and straight with you. You deserved that much.

“I found myself at Adelita’s place… and… we hooked up.” The silence after he said that was hefty and long. Once again, he was the one to break it. “Querida… it’s the biggest fucking mistake I have ever made in my fucking life. I don’t know what the fuck came over me to do something like that to you… to us.”

He tried to get a hold of your hand, but you pulled away in disgust. You didn’t want him to touch you after he had been feeling all up on her in the night while you were home alone crying yourself to sleep. You had no words, none. Your mouth was opening and closing, but nothing seemed to escape it. “Please say something.” “Where is she?” “I don’t see ho-“ “Goddammit Angel, just tell me where the fuck she is!” The scream you let out startled him. “Sh-she’s at the clubhouse… there was some emergency that needed to be taken care of, and it couldn’t wait till later.”

At lightning speed, you had grabbed the car keys and were out the door. Angel registered what the fuck was going on when he heard the engine's roar from the car. He was quick to his feet and on his bike to try and catch up before you did anything stupid.

Not thinking straight, you barge through the Templo doors to be met with Adelita and the rest of the MC standing over a map planning something. “Sweetheart, you aren’t supposed to be here,” Bishop said with a stern manner. You didn’t hear him. You didn’t care that you weren’t supposed to be in the room. All you could think about was the rage filling you up as she stood there gloating at you. A smug look on her face that you knew where your man had been last night, all cozy and tangled up together in her sheets.

She didn’t expect you to jump her and start beating the shit out of her; she knew you weren’t that type of girl, so it startled her when you did. That’s when Angel walked in out of breath and saw the scene in front of him that had him stand dead in his tracks as he watched. Your hands punched and scratched as you screamed, "I'm the mother of his child, not you bitch! Don’t ever touch him again!” You didn’t register what you said, and now everyone knew. She tried to fight back, but you were much more powerful than her.

It took the guys a few moments to pull you off as they were in sheer shock at what was going on in front of them. You were usually a shy and sweet girl that wouldn’t even hurt a fly. They were surprised that you so quickly took her down. Once pulled off, Taza escorted Adelita out since it was time for her to leave. “How in the fuck did you do that?” They almost said in unison. "Jax may be my brother, but my mother is Gemma, and you definitely don’t want to fuck with us.” You knew your mother would be proud of you for standing up for yourself and for putting that bitch in her place.

“Wait… you’re pregnant.” “Yes, Angel, I’m fucking pregnant, and you’ve just fucked up our whole relationship, our future.” The tears that were threatening to spill were managed to be put under control by your choice of not showing any of them how you truly felt, sad, empty, alone, and betrayed by Angel’s choices of thinking with his dick and not his fucking brain.

You were about to storm out when he grabbed you by the forearm. “Wait, please… we can fix this! Please let me fix this dulce.” “No, Angel,” you twisted your arm to get loose of his grip; the touch of him made you cringe, “the damage has already been done. I can’t fucking stand to look at you. Not now. I’m going home… I’m going home to Charming for a while.” And with that, you left Angel there to mend his broken pieces at losing the two of you…

To Be Continued

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thank you for reading❤️ A quick reblog and feedback would be so appreciated❤️ Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist.

MAYANS MC TAGLIST: @blessedboo @60shannon @bellisperennis0 @capnsaveahoe @diaryofkali @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @xvvalx @missswritings @theocatkov @pinguinstudiert @chibsytelford @encounterthepast @rawrlittlepanda-95 @beeroses @siriussnape07 @adaydreamaway08 @miss-nori85 @oldstuffnewstuff @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @jatriciaaa @browneyes912 @cole-winchester @blackksunflower12 @phoenixhalliwell @cant-decide-at-this-moment @love-mesome-me @holl2712 @jennisdirtyimagines @balladbloodwrites @lilacyennefer @smallflower16 @marvelmaree @brwnlikefoxy @kaylaygrace @stupiddsapphicc @violet624 @boomclapxox @mijop @macgruberrr @queen-under-the-shire @missihart23 @vixemi @heeeeeres-saint @paintballkid711 @x-goddess-of-nature-x @angelreyesisdaddy04 @mrsmarvelous1995

ANGEL REYES TAGLIST: @spnaquakindgdom @Negansnympho89

[frankchurchillsaysrelax]

Ok, after reading your reply, I have to know more. Give me your top 5 kathony moments. I wanna know all your thoughts!!

ok so…

1. the library scene. not only was it gorgeously shot but just the way they start off so far apart and then make they’re way towards each other without meaning to. the way that symbolically they start at opposite ends of the space and then meet in the middle. the way that kate is not embarrassed at being caught out of bed and in a room she might not be allowed in because already she feels like she belongs there. the way anthony is totally aware of both of their states of dress and tries admirably at first to not look directly at her and to stay out of the room and in the doorway but his attraction to her is so strong that he lets go of the impropriety and just walks toward her. i could go on.

2. the mud scene. i love that no attention is brought to the fact that this is the first time either one of them let’s their guard down and smiles and laughs around each other. it’s such a rare thing for either of them to be so joyous and the fact that it’s happening in each other’s company is just magical. and anthony who is so uptight all the time getting messy and not complaining about it, just rolling with it and actually finding humor in the whole thing is a refreshing moment for the character. and again kate is just so comfortable, both in the mud and around him, that she simply just doesn’t care. if the dress is ruined at least she had a good time doing it.

3. the proposal scene. first of all, kate just looks so beautiful here. it is definitely one of if not my absolute favorite look of hers. i love anthony in this moment because he truly opens himself up to her with absolutely no expectations or hope that she will reciprocate. he just has to say the words. he loves her, it’s not a feeling it’s a fact. and kate surprises both of them by letting herself have what she wants. since she woke up she has said that she is going to do what she wants and not just live for others but this moment is where she is finally truthful in that promise.

4. the accident scene. i am a wump lover through and through and they delivered this deliciously. the callback of their first scene where anthony is chasing after her except this time he isn’t chasing a mystery he’s chasing the woman he loves. the thought in the back of your mind that she hates storms, so for her to be out in one voluntarily means so much. the way he screams her name as she falls. the fact that she’s in a coma for a whole week afterwards and in that week he grieves her because he simply can’t believe that she will make it, that they might have a future.

5. the wedding scene. specifically that final shot of them standing at the altar staring at each other in an empty room. something about this shot just gives me butterflies. it’s the fact that their love has isolated them. it’s the fact that there is so much space between them yet again but this time they don’t breach it. it’s the foreshadowing. it’s the tension. i just love it.