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drazzilder · 3 years

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A Winter’s Flight

By Drazzzilder

Chapter 8: Snow

Winter has taken over Japan this year. Almost the whole country is covered in a fresh blanket of white powder. Shoto and Natsuo are home for winter break and Fuyumi is visiting as well. You and Enji took the initiative to plan a vacation at a ski resort for the whole family, even managing to convince Enji to let Keigo come as well. You could practically hear Keigo yelling in excitement when you texted him the news.

E: “Is everyone ready? We need to leave soon so we don’t miss the Shinkansen.” He yells from the first floor.

F: “Almost! I’m just closing my suit case now!”

N: Coming down the stairs followed by Shoto “I don’t know what’s the big rush, we can just teleport there if we miss the train.”

S: “We used his powers before.”

Z: “You can’t rely on us for everything. You need to learn how to time manage.”

K: “I might be a mess according to your father but at least I’m on time. You all have been spoiled by Hellboy’s quirk.”

(Y/N): “I know I spoil them; I can’t help it. But we really need to leaving soon.”

F: “Coming!” She says running down the stairs. She trips over her feet and is about to tumble down but a few feathers quickly catch her and her suitcase.

K: “Careful!” He slowly lowers her back to the ground. He looks at her face which is flush with embarrassment.

F: “Thank you. I was in a rush and I guess I tripped over myself.”

Z: “Please be careful, we don’t want you to get hurt before you even get to the resort.”

E: “Now that everyone is ready, let’s go.”

You all leave the house and manage to just make the train. You and Enji are sitting right next to each other while Zaheer is facing you both, taking up 2 seats. Shoto and Natsuo are sitting next to each-other on the other side of the train while Fuyumi and Keigo are sitting behind them. You put Enji near the window to prevent him from turning back to look at the two constantly.

F: “I’m really excited you are coming with us.”

K: “I am too! I don’t know how (Y/N) managed to convince your father to let me come. He must have used some of that demonic power on him.”

F: “No need. My father loves him so much that if (Y/N) ask for something, he would make it happen no matter what.”

K: “I think it’s strange seeing him in love. I mean, look at them up there.” At this point Keigo is looking and you and Enji. Enji has wrapped his arm around you while you hold his other hand in his lap. Your free hand is holding your phone, watching a video together. “It’s kind of adorable when you see it. Such a large, imposing man absolutely in love with someone. It is nice to see him happy. When I was a kid, he was just grumpy looking all the time.”

F: “He has a tendency to be private about his personal life. They are definitely more open about their relationship now but for a while it was hidden. He was afraid of what the public would think; being married to a woman then a man. But, I am happy (Y/N) came into our life. Without him, my father might not be here.”

K: “What do you mean?”

F: “All that stuff I told you, he regretted it so much it was eating him alive. (Y/N) was there to help him process it. It was strange seeing him with a man at first but after a while we saw what he was doing for dad, we know why they fell in love. Now I can’t imagine the two not together.”

K: “I’m glad to hear everything worked out. I did want to know, what is it like living with a demon?”

F: “Hmmm, other than he looks different, Zaheer acts just like us. He is just another member of the family.”

K: “That’s boring…” he pouts. “Wait, I just realized. He has a wedding ring on too?”

F: “Technically only Dad and (Y/N) are married but my father gave Zaheer a ring as a symbolic gesture. He does live inside of (Y/N) after all.”

K: “Awww, does he like Endeavor too?”

F: “Yes. It might be strange, but this is our family.”

K: “Anything else about the big guy?”

F: “He does break things but that’s just because he is so big. He is really fun when you get to know him. Even Natsuo likes him, which I can’t say about a lot of people.”

K: “Kinda wanna see him at home being all silly. I only see him when he is being a hero.”

F: “You will probably see that on this trip. Why are you so interested in Zaheer?”

K: “I just think it’s strange that a demon acts like he does.”

F: “He loves (Y/N) and Enji so much, he would never hurt them.”

K: “Eh… I guess that makes sense.”

F: “That doesn’t mean he won’t come after you if you make him mad. He is quite a force to reckoned with.”

~Meanwhile~

(Y/N): “Don’t worry so much. They are fine.”

E: “I can’t believe I said yes to him coming.” He gruffs.

Z: “I can. You always say yes to (Y/N).”

E: “I know… I can’t help it.”

(Y/N): “I didn’t ask him to come just for Fuyumi. I wanted Keigo and you to try to get along.”

E: “What?!” His glasses begin to fog.

Z: “Calm down. We don’t want the whole train to hear you.”

(Y/N): “You don’t have to hang out but just see what he does for her. Maybe you can see why she likes him. Come on, give him a chance. For me?” You bat your eyes at him, all goofy like.

E: “Fine…. But only for you.” He kisses you on the lips.

It isn’t long till everyone arrives at the ski resort. It is high in the mountains, fresh snow everywhere. Everyone wastes no time getting onto the slopes. Shoto and Natsuo had no problem getting up the mountain but down was another story for Natsuo where Shoto was a natural at the snowboard. Zaheer had the hardest time trying to find equipment to rend but they eventually found something that fits his size, hopefully he doesn’t break the skis. You and Enji just skied down some smaller slopes, keeping things calm. You had to, on more than one occasion, remind Enji not to use his fire on the mountain. Keigo and Fuyumi went all the way to the top to try the black diamond slope. She was a little afraid but Keigo wasn’t. The fresh powder made for a great ski down the mountain. She did fall twice but he was there to help her up. Everyone met for lunch in the cabin Enji rented. Afterwards, they went back to the mountain again.

F: “I’m having a lot of fun, Keigo. I never have skied before.”

K: “You’re a natural! I knew it would be a good time with you.”

F: “Maybe my dad will lighten up seeing how much fun we are having together.”

K: “Eh… we can hope. Come on, we got time for one more run, want to try the triple black diamond?”

F: “I don’t know….”

K: Opening his wings “Don’t worry, I got you.”

F: “Alright. Why not.”

Once at the top, the two stand looking down the intense slope. Fuyumi is having second thoughts but Keigo holds her hand to help her. They slowly start moving forward and let gravity take them down the mountain. The two are going down at a good pace when something seems off. There is a rumbling coming from behind them. It is an avalanche! The snow is approaching so fast the two don’t have any time to react other than Keigo flying to Fuyumi and wrapping his wings around the two. The two are engulf in a mountain of snow as they tumble down the slope. Keigo is ok but Fuyumi starts to feel a little sick from all of the tumbling and falling they are doing in the snow. Soon there is no sign of light anymore as the they fall deeper into the powder. Almost as fast as the snow started moving, it stopped and everything is silent and dark.

K: “Are you ok?”

F: “I think I’m ok. How are we going to get out of here?”

K: “My feathers should do the trick…” He tries to move but is completely still. The snow has compacted so tightly around the two that he can’t even move his feathers. “Um… I guess we are stuck. Any ideas?”

F: “I have one…. Zaheer, can you hear me? Please? We are trapped.”

K: “What? He can’t hear you?”

F: “Remember, we are marked. Maybe he can sense something is wrong.”

In the cold silence, the two wait. They are scared but at least they have each other for comfort. Not much time passes and they start to hear rumbling again. This time, it is coming from right above them as they hear what sounds like digging and yelling. Soon, the darkness is broken with a bright light. A large red hand reaches for the two and pulls them out.

Z: Pulling the both of them close to warm them: “Are you ok!?”

F: “A little shaken up but we are fine.”

K: “Wait, how did you know we were here?”

F: “Like I said, we are marked, he can find us anywhere.”

Z: Now fully hugging the both tight while crying “When I sensed you under the snow, I panicked. I was afraid I wasn’t going to make it in time. Please don’t do that again. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t make it in time. I know I might not be your parent but I care for you too, Fuyumi.”

K: “Calm down big guy, we are ok. I managed to protect us with my wings. I think we are done with skiing today.”

F: “Yeah. Do you mind teleporting us back to the cabin?”

Z: “Not at all. You know I am going to have to tell your fathers about this, right?” He says after he manages to calm down.

F: “I know, just try to ease it on them.”

E: “YOU WERE IN AN AVALACHE?!” Enji is practically about to break Fuyuimi in half with how tight he is hugging her.

(Y/N): “Normally I would say Enji is overreacting but this is serious. You could have died!”

K: “I was there. I used my wings to protect us.”

E: He releases Fuyumi from his titan grip and starts hugging Keigo “Thank you, thank you for protecting her.”

N: “Wow! Dad, are you ok? This is a little out of the norm with for you.”

(Y/N): “He is still processing the car accident and this isn’t helping. His emotions are raw right now, give him some time. Also thank you Zaheer for rescuing them.”

Z: “Of course.”

E: Regaining his composer “Yes. Thank you Zaheer. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get that emotional.”

F: “Its ok, we understand. Hearing that news would be jarring for any parent.”

(Y/N): “Why don’t we all relax in the hot tub for the evening.”

K: “Sounds good to me.”

The rest of the trip is much more relaxing. No one went down the mountain the rest of the trip out of fear for how Enji might react. They relaxing in the cabin, went to the spa, and even had karaoke night. The children didn’t know who was funnier to watch singing, Keigo or Zaheer. At the end of the week, everyone was ready to go back home. The train ride home was quiet and Keigo finally left to go home himself.

Next Chapter

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years

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But Once a Year (2/5)

This is a trick.

It has to be. Something Pan planned, or some nonsense only possible in Neverland, because one second Emma’s sitting outside the Echo Caves and wondering how exactly things could possibly get worse, and then the world decides to take her up on the challenge. She’s not where she was. Or when she was, either.

And the future isn’t entirely what Emma expects it to be, but that might not be entirely horrible and Christmas with a husband and a family that quite clearly loves her is only kind of messing with her head. God bless us, every one.

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Rating: T Word Count: 9.1K which is also more than I remember writing. Which should probably be the subheadline of my life. AN: Guys! All of you! Collectively! Separately! Thank you so much for your genuinely incredible response to this story that took on a life of its own. It’s very nice! You’re all very nice! More exclamation points! This time around we’ve got; a very discombobulated timeline, bedtime stories, peak!dad David, peak!dad Killian and f e e l i n g s.

Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam || Or you can start from the start

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“How did you figure it out?” He lifts his eyebrow. Only one, and exactly the same way he does in whatever part of time the real Killian Jones is lingering in, but the thought of this Killian Jones not being entirely real makes Emma’s stomach knot. Several times over. She can’t stop staring at his eyebrow. It’s off-putting. And the complete opposite of that. “Out?” Killian echoes. “Not when?” “No, no I figured you knew pretty much from the get, but—” Emma shrugs. Tries very hard not to fall off the kitchen counter. Which might actually be made of granite.

God, maybe they’re legitimately rich.

She can’t imagine what the mortgage on a house like this is.

She can’t imagine there are actually mortgages in Storybrooke.

“Were you thinking about going to get your sword? Because it seems shitty to challenge an unarmed person to a fight.” The eyebrow gets higher. Arch'ier. Pointier, even. “As you’ve already pointed out today, I am a pirate. And that’s not really an answer to my question.” “Or mine,” Emma challenges. “Are you not a pirate anymore, then?” “You know you’d make a rather atrocious spy, darling.” Sneering is decidedly juvenile and the only thing Emma is capable of doing in the moment. “You are dancing around any answer and—” “—Well, if you’re a time traveling, abysmal spy then it seems wrong to provide you with any more information than what you’ve already gleaned from your day here, doesn’t it?”

She deflates.

Shoulders sag and exhaustion creeps up the wholly unnatural and very uncomfortable curve of Emma’s spine, fear tickling the back of her mind because Killian hasn’t actually made a single move towards the basement, but she’s only passably sure of where the basement is and the specific sort of glint in his eyes makes her even more confident that he wouldn’t mind brandishing his sword at her.

Literally in this instance.

“I’m not sure it’s time travel,” she mumbles, staring at a floor that is questionably clean if it does in fact belong to her. Maybe Killian cleans. “Fascinating.” “I’m not the bad guy here.” “Because I am?”

Her shoulders can’t sink any lower. They try all the same, shamed by the hitch in his breath and the tilt of his head, angled to make his hair drift across his brows and eyes that are as distracting as ever and far too easy to get swept up in and—

Emma swallows.

Exhales. She doesn’t remember when she decided to hold her breath.

“I don’t know,” she admits softly, barely able to move her lips and no one remembered to turn the Christmas tree off. Lights reflect off the ridiculous number of windows in the wall, painting streaks of color on paint that isn’t blue and shouldn’t remind anyone of a ball gown Emma knows she hasn’t worn yet, but it’s pretty all the same and she wonders why she wound up here. At this point. This moment.

Killian might not be breathing either.

“What do you know, then?”

Emma bites her lip. Hard. “That one second I was somewhere else, and then I was—” Shaking her head does not help what is undoubtedly a migraine blooming behind her left eye, but she hasn’t fallen off the counter yet and she imagines victories are going to be few and far between, so it seems fair to cling to them as they pass by. Six of her knuckles crack when she grips the kitchen counter. “Waking up, and you were telling me we had to go get paint, and people were bowing to me.” “They don’t do that where you’re from.” “Not a question.” “No,” Killian agrees, which is a very strange way of doing that, “more like a documented point. You haven’t tried to attack anyone yet, though. So I suppose that’s at least one marker on the positive column.” “I’m not going to attack anyone!” Eyes flashing at the crack in Emma’s voice, Killian’s neck all but snaps as he glances over his shoulder. Towards a staircase, and she hasn’t spent too much time upstairs yet, but those same stairs are as empty as they were sixteen seconds earlier and the force of Killian’s exhale ruffles the ends of his hair.

“If you wouldn’t mind being just a touch quieter,” he all but growls at her, spinning back around with far more grace than Emma thinks is entirely fair, “I’d really appreciate it. Takes her forever to fall asleep.” “Hope, you mean? Don’t I, well—don’t we or…” “I’d suggest you stop talking.”

“And you’re still avoiding my questions,” Emma accuses through clenched teeth. That only hurts her jaw. And the rest of her, really. She’s so tired, she can’t believe she’s still forming coherent sentences. Counting that as another marker in the positive column is probably a dick move.

And the standoff that ensues over the next twenty-seven and two-thirds seconds is something in the realm of ridiculous. Clenching her jaw tight enough to crush a variety of diamonds, Emma resolutely refuses to blink, and Killian’s an ass, apparently, so he simply stares right back, while his shoulders heave on every inhale.

She doesn’t know what to say. Has no idea what string of words will convince this relative stranger, who still feels like someone who could potentially be hers in an overwhelming sort of way, that she’s not a threat and wouldn’t do anything to hurt that kid upstairs. Not when that kid did her own bit of staring at Emma all evening, like she was the sun and the moon, and a variety of constellations and—

Killian drags a hand over his face. Leaves red streaks in his wake, twisting the skin on his cheeks and the stubble there doesn’t move because it can’t, but Emma’s admittedly starting to teeter again. In more ways than one, really.

The crinkles around his eyes are deeper. As if he’s used to laughing and smiling, and Hope had clung to him on their walk home.

There’s that word again.

Doing something silly to Emma’s heart.

“I know you’re not going to attack anyone,” he sighs, “although I don’t really know if you’re in a position to demand I tell you anything, either.”

“What if we call it a request?” His lips twitch, fighting off the smile Emma can see tugging at his mouth and it’s definitely wrong to find any confidence in that. Charming a guy who’s already married and procreating with a different version of her shouldn’t be regarded as another victory.

She’s going to do it anyway.

“Tell me who you are, then.” “I’m—” Grunting hurts Emma’s throat, both of her elbows threatening to damage her ribs when she flails her hands. “I’m me. Just—” “—Not mine?” “Oh, that’s decidedly possessive.” Humming, Killian’s nod is barely that. More like a quick jerk of his chin and swipe of his tongue across the front of his teeth. She’s got to stop staring at his mouth. “Aye, it might be. I am having some difficulty wrapping my head around this, though. So you’ll have to forgive me.” Emma scoffs. Nearly laughs, really — which is as surprising as it is nice, and nothing about this can be nice. On principle. Her body doesn’t seem to care, and her heart certainly cares even less, and it’s still a struggle to rationalize this version of Killian with the one she left, but there are far more similarities than her brain is able to process quite yet and that same dark and distant part is very quick to point out she’d like to.

No matter where she might be sitting.

If she’d let herself.

“You can feel my magic?”

Killian nods. “Usually.” “What does that mean? It doesn’t always work?” “I—” Gritting his teeth only shows off how frustratingly straight there are, and at some point she’s going to ask about that. Pirates don’t get braces, after all. “I’d rather not disrupt all of time by telling you things you don’t already know.” “I don’t know anything,” Emma argues, trying very hard not to scream the words. And only sort of succeeding.

“Did you fall into a portal?” “Are you fucking with me?” Killian glares at her again. “I’d advise very strongly that you answer the question, Swan.”

“Or what? You’ll legitimately go get your basement sword? Why do you keep your sword in the basement, anyway? Aren’t there—I mean, a monster a week in Storybrooke, right?” His goddamn fucking tongue is going to be the death of her. Sooner or later, Emma is positive. Shifting and poking at the side of his cheek, and she can hear the gears again, trying to place the few clues she’s given him with a life he’s already lived and it is absurd that she even thought the word clues.

“Not in quite some time,” he admits, and Emma’s mind leaps. Back to conversations and knights and realm-borders. She needs a map. Or Regina, God help her. “That’s not the point, though. It’s—” Another head shake and hair movement, and pinching the bridge of his nose only makes it ten-thousand times easier to see the ring on his finger.

There are a lot of Christmas lights in this house.

“You’re not someone else,” Killian finishes softly.

“Disappointing, I know.” His head moves so quickly it’s hardly more than a semi-dark blur of hair and slightly pained eyes. Both of which make Emma very glad for her spot on the counter. If she had been standing, she would have fallen over. In a rather undignified heap.

“No,” Killian exhales as the magnets make a glorious return. He crowds into her space before she’s entirely ready for it. Although that also suggests Emma would ever be ready for the way his face has twisted and how ridiculously warm he continues to be, the hand that’s already resting on her knee threatening to burn straight through her jeans. “Strange,” he adds, clenching his fingers when Emma flinches, “and possibly a little terrifying, since—” “—Your Emma has disappeared entirely.” He grins. It’s disarming, and inching closer to the kind of flirting they’d been dancing around before and Emma’s got to get off this dancing metaphor kick. She’s not a good dancer, anyway. “No portal, right?” “No portal,” she confirms. “And I’m not entirely convinced this isn’t a very lucid dream, so.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

She realizes that about halfway through the sentence. Any hint of camaraderie or déjà vu-based flirting disappears from Killian’s face and immediately shifts into the same brand of pain that came when she called him Hook.

Biting her lip is really Emma’s only option.

“You don’t think this is real,” he whispers, another statement she doesn’t feel the need to point out. Shrugging, Emma’s vocal chords fail her again, and the step Killian takes away from her resembles a rather large chasm.

Grand Canyon-esque.

“We’re back to things I don’t know,” Emma says, “but um—do we have other kids? Aside from Hope, I mean? I—” Heat rises in her cheeks, the weight of the compliment threatening to burst out of her both foreign and necessary and Killian doesn’t do anything. Well, he lifts his eyebrows again, but that’s something like second nature to him and Emma refuses to count it and his fingers find the back of his hair.

Huh.

“Henry,” he replies.

“And you’re counting Henry? As—” Her tongue is really going to become a problem, if it’s going to remain this size in her mouth. “As your kid too?”

Strictly speaking, Emma’s not sure she actually wants an answer. Can only imagine what her emotions will do if she hears the confirmation that’s quite obviously pressing behind the seams of Killian’s mouth, but that confirmation might also prove several thousand things that have been at war in her for far longer than she’d ever be willing to admit, and he nods once.

“In all the ways that matter,” Killian says. “And Neal is…” Shaking his head, all Emma gets is another smirk as soon as she huffs out her frustration, but the frustration is also kind of lacking when it feels like her whole body is running on overdrive and there’s no way he could fake the emotion behind those words. Even in a dream-like state. She’s not creative enough to come up with that particular voice inflection.

“How’d you know?” she presses. “Honestly?” “Aside from your rather startling inability to act like yourself?” “Yeah. Aside from that.”

Stairs creak behind them, a not-quite ominous warning that this conversation has lasted longer than it should and there’s a kid of indeterminate age demanding to be put back to bed just out of sight. Emma should figure out how old her kid is.

Hopefully that won’t ruin the space-time continuum, either.

“You’ve got this lovely habit of calling me babe,” Killian drawls, leaning close enough that Emma swears she can smell him. Wishful thinking, maybe. “And I can’t remember the last time you called me Hook.”

He flashes her another grin — reminiscent of a man who is not this one, and then he’s gone, scooping up the kid and muttering promises against her hair, and Emma never knows how long she spends sitting on the kitchen counter.

She does creep, eventually.

Curiosity gets the better of Emma the longer she sits there, waiting without much hope for Killian to return. He’s not going to. She knows that. There’s only so many times he can come back, and this is a totally different thing than it was before, but it's also a perfect segue to the other reason she hopes off the counter. Her overall discomfort. Literally, and metaphorically. Marble, it seems, is a very fancy stone and good for the kitchen counters some alt-version of her eventually owns, but it also starts to dig into the back of her knees and those knees are bent kind of weird and in the grand scheme of where she wants to look again, inching up the stairs to peer through the barely closed door of Hope’s room is a much more appealing prospect than a basement that apparently houses weapons.

So, Emma doesn’t spend too long thinking of the pros and cons, or how she should really be creeping towards the room of someone who might understand magic and why she’s here. Instead, she winces slightly on the creaky step halfway up the staircase and does her best to stay in the shadows, but these shadows aren’t quite as terrifying as they were in the realm she’s only just recently teleported from and that probably doesn’t mean a whole lot.

He’s reading her a story.

Captain Hook, terror of several storybook seas and probably a few Emma isn’t aware of, just to drive home the confusion point, sits propped up against a mess of pillows with his sock-covered feet stretched out in front of him, and curls pushed up against his side, a book balanced precariously on one thigh and she really would make the world’s worst spy. She hadn’t noticed the empty brace at the end of his arm.

That’s never happened before.

Honestly, she wasn’t even entirely sure it was possible, which is total asshole territory and maybe she’ll just collapse. Right here in the hallway. The carpet looks almost plush, so it might not be the worst move.

And trying to memorize the look of it only feels like a half-dick'ish move, if only because the lack of a hook does sort of confirm the overall safety of this place, and Emma figures that outweighs whatever scene she’s interrupting. Or trying not to, as it were.

Knotted scars line his skin, some of them looking older than others and that makes a few more of Emma’s internal organs flip. Something that feels a bit like anger rises in the back of her throat, an unexpected emotion that isn’t really directed at anyone except the people who caused those scars and that pain and he looks comfortable.

Now, at least.

Even slouched as he is against pillow cases that are far too frilly and remind Emma far too much of her mother. She keeps documenting. Lets her eyes trace over every inch of Killian — the way his fingers fluttering mindlessly against Hope’s back, brushing away strands of hair with the kind of ease that makes it clear this is a regular occurrence. His shoulders aren’t as taut as they were in the kitchen, but his head lolls towards the side more than once as fatigue starts to color his gaze.

The story has princesses in it. Well, one princess. On a rather expansive adventure, if Emma’s actually keeping up with the plot. Dropped into a place she’s unfamiliar with, the princess in question naturally has a dashing love interest — although his name is Charles, so...maybe not all that dashing — and they get into several more adventures. Which include, but apparently are not limited to; taverns, a ridiculous amount of flirting, interactions with pirates, kissing as a distraction, the last of which endlessly entertains Hope, and the overall force of the little girl’s laugh makes Emma’s breath hitch, but then there’s more to the story and of course there’s a ball. More royalty, too. Obstacles are faced, only to be immediately overcome and Emma’s smile happens without any thought to the overall inappropriate nature of it.

“And,” Killian says, shaking his head until his nose grazes Hope’s hair, “the exceptionally dashing prince took on the guards single-handedly, telling the princess to go and get the treasure they’d been looking for. While—” “—’Feating all of them, right?” Hope exclaims. As much as it’s possible to exclaim while also sounding half asleep.

“In dramatic fashion. There was quite a lot of spinning involved. Made his jacket look all the more impressive. Fluttering tails and whatnot.”

Eyes flicker towards Emma’s garbage hiding spot, and she’s still not breathing correctly, so the odds aren’t very good he heard her, but she’s wondered more than once if he doesn’t just have a sixth sense when it comes to her and possibly them, and she pulls her lips behind her teeth.

“What happened after that?”

Most of Hope’s question comes out as a singular word, Killian’s soft laugh both indulgent and decidedly parental and he kisses her once before muttering, “Nuh uh, you’ve already gotten more story than you should, and you’ve got to get some rest.” “But I—”

Shaking his head once is all it takes for silence to descend on the room, although it does come with a slight pout and that’s—weird, it’s weird. Watching her own facial expressions reflect back to her from a kid she didn’t know existed a few hours earlier is more than enough to send Emma reeling. Wobbly knees shake underneath her, retreating in just enough time to not look totally suspicious as Killian mumbles something else and closes the door behind him, and she might have been right about the eye thing.

They practically fly towards her.

And the wall that was far closer than Emma anticipated. Hitting her head on it hurts more than it usually would, she imagines.

“Truly,” he says, “an absolutely Gods awful spy.” “Was that supposed to be plural? On the Gods, I mean?” Tilting his head is the only response Emma gets, and she can’t blame him for that. For anything, really. “Does that happen a lot? The, uh—the stories.”

Silence.

Relatively speaking. There’s the distinct sound of disgruntled kid on the other side of the other side of the door, what Emma figures are four flailing limbs as it appears Hope is determined to beat her half a dozen pillows into submission.

Little sea monster makes a bit more sense now.

“I do that too.”

Fatigue disappears. To make room for the invisible two-by-four that settles between Killian’s shoulder blades, shifting them until his spine is ramrod straight and he’s staring at Emma like that was the most obvious statement in the history of the world.

“I’m well aware,” he says, but his voice drops, gruffer than it’s been all day. She’s going to bite both her lips in half.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s—makes sense, I guess. I, um—” No one actually told her to take her boots off, but Emma might have assumed, and the carpet does feel soft. Through her socks, at least. While she tries to dig a hole into the ground with her toe. So she can fall into it. “Seemed like a popular story.” “Aye, it is. Big fan of sword fights.”

“Ah, well, when they’re full of dashing princes who wouldn’t be?”

It’s another thoughtless sentence. One that makes Killian’s tongue shift and then his mouth shift and Emma only stares at that for a few seconds before her eyes drop to his arm and his wrist and—

He twists his arm. Behind his back.

Her inability to dig a hole with her foot is genuinely disappointing.

“A question for the ages,” he says. “What are the other ones, then?” “Excuse me?” “I cannot keep telling you how badly you mask your expressions. It seems redundant. So while I also can’t imagine getting too much information will be good, you’ve obviously got questions. As do I, if we’re being honest.” “Are we being honest?”

The lack of sword belt — or actual pants — makes it all the more absurd when he leans forward, thumb hooking into the top of the sleepwear he’s got on, and Emma’s fairly proud of her ability to not linger on that particular thing. Less so in her ability to temper the butterflies in her stomach as soon as Killian leans forward.

Directly into her space.

He must radiate heat.

“I’ve never been anything except entirely honest with you, love,” Killian says, and there’s no way to doubt those words or that voice and Emma hasn’t. Ever, actually.

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Eventually you really do believe it.” Blood hits her tongue — sharp and absolutely disgusting, threatening to make her retch in the middle of the hallway. Only marginally better than her hole idea. By some miracle, sent from an apparently merciful God, Emma manages to take a deep breath, jutting her chin out and meeting Killian’s almost cautious gaze with a determination of her own.

The kind that sends magic shooting down her arms, and directly into the tips of her fingers. His eyes widen.

“That’s never been the problem. It’s—” They’ve got to stop cutting themselves off. Sentences that hang without end will torment Emma for the foreseeable future, but the muscles in her neck are going to seize up if she doesn’t twist them, and Killian’s fingers tense at his side when her hair moves. Like he wants to brush it away from her face. “Where’d the tree come from?” “Anton.”

“No.” “Swan, we just proclaimed honesty and now you’re—” “—Don’t know if it was a proclamation,” Emma grumbles, but Doc did call her your highness before so maybe she wields that kind of power now. Killian’s lips tilt up.

Finding something else to stare at should be number one on the list of things Emma needs to be doing. Desperately.

“Aye, that usually requires your mother’s seal anyway.”

“My mom? Why would...isn’t Regina mayor of this town?”

Exhaling through his teeth is oddly attractive. “Not as such, no.” “Huh.” “That’s about the right reaction. But to get back to your original question—” Emma sticks her tongue out, Killian’s laugh soaring out of him. Directly into her. It feels that way, at least. Warmth blooms between her ribs, another pulse of magic she resolutely ignores in favor of watching his shoulders shake and his eyes crinkle and it would be very easy. All of it. Is, currently. If she’s being honest with herself.

That’s a problem.

“You’re a picture of maturity,” Killian murmurs.

“Well, depending on who you ask, I either got tugged through time, or I’m being tormented in my dreams and—what?” His eyes have gone very thin. “Tormented, is it?” “That was a shitty choice of words.” Humming, Killian’s eyes move anywhere but Emma’s face, and the regret in her gut is like a black hole and dying star and several other space-based puns she does not understand at all. All she knows is what a mess this is becoming, and she’s been a mess for as long as she can remember so that’s all the excuse she needs, hands moving on a mix of want and instinct that she’ll let herself over analyze later.

He doesn’t flinch.

For another moment, it feels like he’s going to do something drastic. Parting his lips, Emma hears his exhale, the quick flick of his tongue making her toes curl and her fingers tighten, and she wants to run. That’s her schtick. She can’t. She’s rooted to the spot and this carpet, and there’s nowhere to go really.

Getting back to Neverland already seems impossible.

“He’s very happy here,” Killian says, and it takes her a second to realize they’re talking about a giant again. “Has been for years. Grows all sorts of stuff, and you didn’t see the Christmas tree your parents have, but it’s ridiculously massive. Apparently there’s some sort of giant-type gene that helps with that.”

“Well, yeah of course.”

Whatever sound he makes isn’t the laugh Emma selfishly wants it to be, but the air that finds her cheek is warm and his left arm isn’t behind his back anymore. “You can take the bed.”

“What?” “We do have a bed, love.” “Yeah, but—” “—Very gallant of me, I know,” Killian quips, stepping away from Emma and the moment and she can’t believe the moment included talk of a giant growing Christmas trees. Somehow that’s almost comforting. “But it’ll be fine, and well if you’re going to talk to Regina tomorrow—” “—You think I should talk to Regina?” “Don’t you?” Nodding hurts. Standing hurts. The whole thing’s ridiculously melodramatic. “Probably,” Emma admits. “Um, but...maybe on my own?”

She’ll never admit to wanting an objection — this isn’t her life, or her Killian, but it also feels wrong to claim any Killian, and this constant flipping between emotions is going to snap her skull in half. “Whatever you think is best,” he says. “Two doors down on the left.”

“Ok, thanks.”

Nodding again, Killian gives her a barely-there smile before moving back towards the stairs he only sort of rushes down. That one step creaks again.

Sleeping doesn’t happen.

Emma didn’t think it would, but it’s disappointing and frustrating all the same. Her muscles ache, practically begging her for unconsciousness, but every time she closes her eyes all she can see is Killian’s face and the space between them and she’s got to get back to Neverland.

Soon.

Emma’s got to fix this.

No one’s at Regina’s house.

Waiting until everyone left her own house is something of a massive copout, and using that particular possessive makes Emma feel like a liar, but she couldn't bring herself to get off the bed until the front door slammed shut and she wasted quite a lot of time sitting on the mattress.

Also very comfortable, despite the distinct lack of sleep it witnessed.

So, it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise when no one answers Emma’s rather pointed knocks. Or the few kicks she levels at Regina’s front door, just to be sure. All that does is make the wreath hanging out front wobble precariously. “God, fucking—” Snowflakes land on Emma’s face when she tilts her head up, as if the gods she’s challenging are responding. She’s still a little caught on the polytheistic. “Alright, alright, where would she go?”

“Emma?” Spinning, she doesn’t wobble at all — a testament to Regina’s salting regiment for her front steps, and the blonde twenty-something with impressively thick glasses who called her name far too easily grins far too quickly. “What are you doing out here?”

There’s no hint of confusion to her question. At least not in regards to who Emma is. She’s obviously surprised to find her standing there, though, and nothing about her is familiar.

“I’m looking for Regina. Do you know where she might be?”

“Yeah, of course. She went into the office early this morning, said she had to deal with the knights situation and magic acting up and—” “—Magic is acting up?”

“Didn’t Uncle David tell you?”

“No,” Emma shakes her head, already moving because there are only so many offices in this town and it’s got to be the same one. It isn’t until she makes it back to Main Street that her mind catches up with titles, but then the woman is jogging up the stairs of town hall and swinging open doors and Emma’s jaw drops.

At the “Regina Mills, Queen of the Combined Realms” etched in glass in front of her.

“You coming?” this nameless person asks, jerking her head towards the office and at least the wallpaper is the same. Emma gives a jerky nod, willing herself to step forward, but it’s shaky going at best and Regina is on the phone.

The buzzing in her ears makes it difficult to hear the conversation, but Emma picks up the gist. Magic, and knights and the sound of her dad’s vaguely frantic tone, while Regina sighs at regular intervals, rolling her eyes occasionally as well.

“Aunt Gina,” the woman hisses, slumping into the closest chair. Sliding a small handful of bills across her desk, Regina widens her eyes meaningfully, not bothering to cover the receiver before she mutters—

“Only what was on the list, ok? Henry’s stuff is already taken care of, don’t let Doc try and swindle you.”

She gives a crisp salute, Emma’s mind practically tripping over itself because that’s like a slap to her entire being and the sanity she’s only just clinging to at this point. “I’ll sic Killian on him, if he even tries,” she promises, leaning across the desk to kiss Regina’s cheek before breezing out of the office with a quick “see you later, Emma.”

Emma doesn’t move.

And Regina hangs up on David.

“Well,” she says, somehow dragging the word out until it sounds like those royal decrees Killian was talking about, “here you are, then.” “Should practice your surprised face.”

Gasping as dramatically as possible, Regina widens her eyes and jerks back, making her chair squeak on its wheels. Her hand flies to her chest, and the necklace that hangs over her shirt. It looks a bit like an arrow. “How was that?” “My dad called you.” “Probably two seconds after you left the farm. So,” she props her chin on her palm, “time travel, is it? You fall in another portal?”

Blinking as quickly as she is makes it difficult for Emma to stumble into the chair only recently vacated by that girl, but she manages somehow. And doesn’t twist anything in the process. Victories, she’s claiming all of them. “How many time-altering portals are there?” “Only one that I’m aware of, but you also didn’t answer my question and I don’t think you can alter something that hasn’t happened for you yet.” “Because this is the future.”

“Frankly?” “You’re going to do it either way,” Emma grumbles, Regina’s sneer not quite as challenging as she expects it to be.

“Nothing is ever set in stone, not really. Which is why you can appear here. We're...a possibility for you at this point. So, no—I’m not sure you can destroy yourself with knowing. With staying, for sure, but—” “—Wait, what?”

Regina’s fingers flutter against her cheek. “When did you come from?

“Not here.” “Obviously.”

Slumping further into the chair, Emma’s knees nearly slam into her chest. It’s definitely an arrow around Regina’s neck. “Neverland,” she says, “we’d just left the Echo Caves and you’d gone off with Gold somewhere.” “Rumor has it you met Ariel.” “Is that seriously who that was?” Regina nods. Emma exhales. Loudly. “Ok, ok, well—” Recounting the rest isn’t as hard as she expects it to be, details flowing out of Emma like some other water joke she’s not willing to make and Regina doesn’t interrupt. Occasionally her hand drifts back towards the necklace, but Emma chooses to ignore that as well and her mouth is only sort of dry by the time she’s done.

And then Regina purses her lips.

Which speaks volumes, without actually saying words. She says words too. “A giant plant. That crawled out of the ground and—” “—Ok, I never once said it was giant, just that it exploded out of the ground.” “It’s not much better.” “Killian can feel my magic here.” “Yuh huh.”

Lifting both her hands in what Emma can only hope is obvious frustration and soon-to-be-resolved confusion, Regina doesn’t look all that impressed. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Emma demands. “Is that a normal thing? I—as far as I know he can’t in Neverland.” “Well, normal is in the eye of the beholder, really, but have you ever actually asked the captain if he can feel your magic?” “Why would I—did you just call him captain? Are you and Killian friends now?” Clicking her tongue, Regina makes a noise that’s neither confirmation nor objection. “I’m not supposed to be here. This isn’t—none of this is real.” “Ah, that’s actually a little rude.” “How did this happen, then?” Another noise. More guttural that time, and Emma hopes it hurts the inside of Regina’s throat. She’s feeling a little vindictive. No one’s explained the Unified Realms concept to her yet, that’s why. “I’ve got several working theories, some people who would know far more about Neverland’s vegetation and what its capable of than I would, and the deep-burning desire to know whether or not you told Killian about the plant.”

The gods are clearly feeling particularly charitable to Emma right now. All things considered, she feels like she deserves that.

And she doesn’t fall out of the chair.

“Do you think he remembers this? If I disappeared in Neverland, but he still married me here...God, that’s weird to say.” “Is it, though?’ Regina challenges, scrunching her nose like this is a conversation they can have.

“Why are you also being so goddamn weird?” “Time travels a funny thing. Lots of twists and turns, and potential pitfalls. And I’m not being weird, this is who I am now.” “Huh.” “Make it sound less like an insult next time,” Regina advises. “But I do think you’re right, you need to leave this part of the timeline. It’ll fall apart otherwise.” “You say so calmly.” “I’m almost very confident in your abilities.” “Almost,” Emma echoes, fully prepared for the snark-filled grin that gets her. Flames flicker between Regina’s fluttering fingers, not the first time that’s happened, but it usually only happens in times of particularly high stress and for as even-keeled as the so-called queen is acting, Emma knows at least part of it is a facade. “What happened with the knights? Also, shouldn’t knights from Camelot be under Arthur’s rule?” “That’s a whole other story. One your husband could recount much better than me.” “He’s not my husband.” “Not yet, I suppose.” Grimacing makes it harder to pull a breath in, but Emma’s butterflies make a triumphant return and the coffee maker was still on when she got downstairs. That might not be the coincidence she wants it to be. “The knights,” Emma demands, “what’s their deal?” “Nefarious, it seems. Which isn’t usually how they operate, and is wholly against the law.” “Of your kingdom?” Maybe Regina and Killian are friends. She’s much better at arching her eyebrow now. “Something like that. Anyway, the knights are here, without the proper paperwork, because they claim magic has been acting strangely in Camelot. And they’ve tracked it to our forest. What that magic is doing that’s so strange appears to be some sort of state secret, but Snow’s got a bird on it, so maybe we’ll find out eventually.” “That keeps happening.” “The fleeting nature of a bird’s attention span?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Is she not Mary Margaret, anymore?”

The flames disappear, Regina sitting up a little straighter like they’ve finally delved into the serious part of this conversation, and whatever’s churning in Emma’s gut is a bit like regret. “Not in the way you’re thinking.” “How am I thinking about it, then?” “As someone who still hasn’t found Henry in Neverland yet.” “Sounds like we do.” “Not something you ever should have doubted.” “I don’t,” Emma says, only kind of a lie because she still can’t really shake her worry and her fear has always been such a strong part of her; the concept of letting that go is as terrifying as anything else. The coffee had been good that morning. “Why this spot? I mean—if I was going to get tugged to any point in my timeline, Christmas in Storybrooke seems a little out of left field, don’t you think?”

Regina considers that for a moment, drumming her still-flameless fingers on her vaguely imposing desk. “Honestly? Seems like a test.” “Of what?” “You, obviously.” “Speaking English, Your Highness.” “Majesty,” Regina corrects, sliding away from the desk so she can stand up and rest her palms on it and Emma’s eyes nearly roll into the back of her head. “And you’re being obtuse on purpose. I understand, but it’s—well, it’s only going to get more annoying, for both of us. The point is, games were part of Neverland. Tricks and sleight of hand, making you believe something that wasn’t there because that belief fueled the place. Belief’s even stronger for you, Emma. Because of what you are, and what you’ve done. Or will do, I guess.” “No pressure.” “Some, but—you’re distracting me. That’s still an unconfirmed theory.” “What is the point, then?” “The point,” Regina repeats archly, “is that pulling you out of Neverland, away from a place that made you feel like the Lost Girl you believe you are, turns this into something of a Utopia. Home, and safety. When’s the last time you celebrated Christmas?” “Never?” “See, everything you’ve ever wanted all tied up and—” “—I don’t want to be married to Hook.”

Disbelief colors every inch of Regina’s face, the sound of her laugh far more evil than she’s been all morning. “You’re an awful liar, Emma Swan. No matter what you do, and all you’ve ever been able to do is make eyes at the pirate.” “I don’t make eyes.” “Don’t worry, he does too. Even now, which is romantic if you like that sort of thing.” “The point, Regina.”

She grins. “You’re being offered a choice. Here, or there. Past or possible future. It’s a dangerous option, Emma, and one you can’t give into, no matter how much you might want.”

Finding her dad is far easier than Regina.

Emma’s feet drift down the path towards the farm, boots squelching in the snow, but none of the moisture gets to her socks and the screen door opens before she can think about knocking.

“Would have been offended if you had,” David says, pulling her against his chest and answering a question she didn’t have a chance to ask. It’s the hand that does it though. Cupping the back of Emma’s head, there’s something inherently safe about the whole thing, her cheek scrunched and her eyes stinging with more unshed tears and the first whimper she lets out is so goddamn depressing she can’t believe it came from her.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” David chants. Over and over, pressing the promise into her hair and her temple, the bridge of her nose once Emma finally lifts her head, and the slight jut of her chin because she’s nothing if not consistently stubborn and falling apart feels like failure.

“C’mon, we’re going to sit down,” David continues, already directing Emma back into the hallway. And through the hallway. Past more pictures, and this couch looks even more comfortable than the one she’d woken up on, and she’d been right about her mother’s taste in pillows. An excess of frill.

“Was I that obvious that you had to immediately call Regina yesterday?" David shrugs, lifting his arm in unspoken invitation. Emma slings her legs over his when she moves, the flannel now under her cheek oddly comforting. As is the kiss she feels pressed to the crown of her head. “A little,” he chuckles, “but mostly it was Killian’s blatant freakout.” “He wasn’t freaking out. At least not here.” “He was. Not loudly, maybe. But obviously. And you looked at Hope like you’d never seen her. That also kind of freaked out your mom.” “How old is she?”

Emma doesn’t bother being anymore specific. She knows she doesn’t have to — not when her dad’s arm tightens around her shoulders, and she wishes she’d come here first, if only to help keep her balanced on the precarious edge of lingering sanity, and she’s got absolutely no idea where Killian went. She should ask about that too. “Four.” “Shit. That’s—shit.” Another chuckle and second kiss, and David has to shift slightly to make sure Emma’s elbow doesn’t impale his side. “Reasonable response, really. Anything else?” “About a million and two things,” Emma admits, with enough acid in her voice to do permanent damage to the atmosphere. Making science-jokes is apparently a coping device now. “Regina thinks it’s a test. Of whether or not I really will leave, when given some sort of idyllic future.” “Well you’re not a selfish asshole, so I’m sure you’ll do what you have to.” “Kinda blunt, Dad.”

It’s not the first time she’s used that word — but titles have been thrown around in enough conversations already, and Emma’s really very wobbly on her metaphorical cliff and she wants something. Solid and dependable and she refuses to acknowledge how Killian might be both. Is definitely both.

In any version of this life.

“Kinda,” David agrees, “but the knights showed up when you did, and I don’t know if that’s a coincidence. There have been reports coming into the station, too. Stuff feeling out of whack across the realms—” “—How many realms are there, exactly? Is Regina in charge of all of them?”

“There was something of an election.” “For a queen?” “We’re a very progressive united coalition.”

“And you’re what? Prince of that?” David makes a contrary noise, and it takes longer than Emma expects to detail the hierarchy of this realm, but she understands why her mom would need to make royal decrees now and why people keep bowing to her and— “So that makes Killian a prince,” Emma says, pleasantly surprised to realize she does not in fact die when her heart explodes. Or when she realizes that some parts of that bedtime story may actually be based in reality.

She kind of wants to see him spin in the middle of a sword fight.

“Tell him that,” David suggests. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.” “Makes me think he won’t.” “Sometimes people bow to him, just to see what he’ll do.” “Challenge them to a duel?” “Nah, that’d mean he has to get his sword and that’s a whole thing. Plus, he’s got stuff to do in the station and there’s a fair bit of sailing involved.” “He keeps his ship?” Emma asks, sharper than she intends because something’s fluttering at the back of her brain and it’s big and important and she’s got absolutely no idea why. “And did you just say station?” David hums. “Doesn’t like wearing the badge though. Which I think is an affront to the position of deputy, but—” She nearly hits his chin. Jerking her head up, Emma’s eyes widen quickly enough that they also water and her dad might be the asshole here because he doesn’t do anything except smile knowingly at her. “You’re happy here, Emma,” he says, “after everything. And there’s a lot of everything, but it ends eventually. Gets the happily ever after it deserves, that both of you deserve. Although he’s a merciless cheat in Monopoly, drives me nuts every Christmas.”

It’s not a laugh. Not really. Sagging forward, air flies out of Emma’s lungs and her very dry lips, and that second thing is because she keeps breathing out her mouth, and trying to piece together a puzzle she wasn’t all that interested in finishing before. Now it’s all she wants, desperate to see what the picture is, and it’s probably very pretty.

A covered bridge, or an oceanscape or something. Thomas Kinkaid, maybe. And part of her hears the warning, knows all too well that she’s already failing the test, but the rest of her absolutely does not care.

“Are you really here, or is that some kind of trick my mind came up with because you’re actually stuck in Neverland?” David kisses her nose. “Here. And for the time being, so are you. Which means you can sleep.”

“Mind reading isn't one of your talents, as far as I knew.” “I get better at it,” he promises, tugging an exceptionally soft blanket off the back of the couch and Emma doesn’t put up much of a fight before resting her head on his shoulder and promptly falling asleep.

There are lights on in half a dozen windows when David’s new — at least as far as Emma’s concerned — truck comes to a stop in front of her absolutely massive house, and she’s got to get out. Easier said than done, particularly with trembling fingers and obviously fluttering curtains in that one bay window, and it takes no less than four tries for her to undo her seatbelt,

“It’s going to be fine” David says again, “no matter what happens.” “Even with magic being weird?” “We’re not sure that’s entirely your fault.”

Scoffing, Emma tries very hard to believe that. No one’s updated them on the location of the bird. She kind of hates this bird. Possibly all birds, really. “Sure it’s not. So, what—I’m just supposed to go back into this stupidly large mansion and—” “—Wouldn’t all mansions be large?” David interrupts. “By default?” “Did we rob a bank to pay for this?” “You’d have to ask Killian, but I don’t think so.” “He says I call him babe.”

Wincing, Emma belatedly realizes this is probably not a conversation she should be having with her father, but she hasn’t really seen her mother and she wants to talk about it to Regina even less, and she obviously can’t bring it up to Killian when she’s avoiding him so much and—

A door slams. Footsteps rush towards them, voices on the breeze and the snowflakes that have kept falling all day because it’s New England and as far as Emma knows it’s required to snow in New England on Christmas. Or in the days leading up.

David nods towards the door she should have opened five minutes ago.

And it takes her about one sharp inhale, two eyes that very nearly fall out of her head, and that maternal-type adrenaline she’s starting to get used to, for Emma to tumble out of the truck, sprint the few feet between them and practically launch herself into Henry’s waiting arms. Arms that are much more adult than she’s familiar with.

Although that does also make it easier for him to tighten them around Emma’s middle, and she supposes time-traveling beggars cannot be choosers. “Hey,” Henry breathes, mostly into her hair. Wind whips around them, only kind of unnatural and a little magical and the door opens again. Emma doesn’t look up. Seeing Killian standing there, with his feet crossed at the ankles, she’s sure, will only drive her closer to a line she’s not all that willing to cross. Yet. Or ever.

No, definitely ever.

Everyone calling him Killian is nice. Exceptionally, so.

“Killian said it was bad, but…” Trailing off, Henry pulls back and Emma’s crying again. Like a total, entirely incompetent ass. She’s got so many questions still. Her arms tighten, a fresh round of terror rattling around her soul, or some other ridiculous sentiment, and Henry doesn’t argue. He kisses the top of her hair too.

He’s much taller than her now.

“Did Killian talk to you?”

“Mom,” Henry sighs, “c’mon—even when I was a kid, that shouldn’t have surprised you.” It doesn’t, not really. But there’s a grown man in her arms, and snow flying around them, and Henry’s barked “not now, Lu” causes another kid to scamper back up the porch. Towards Killian and his ridiculous grey-streaked hair, and he picks her up without looking away from Emma.

He’s looking at Emma.

Still, or always, or whatever.

“Don’t ask what kind of favors he had to pull in to get us here,” Henry adds, “but he said you’d need it, and it might help and Ella definitely wanted to leave, even if she won’t admit to it, so—”

“Stop telling lies, Henry Mills,” another voice calls from behind Killian, and Emma’s going to pass out. For a variety of reasons, least of all her lack of caloric intake today.

Henry clicks his tongue. A family trait, apparently. “It’s not a lie, she didn’t even really want to go, but Lu gets a ridiculous present haul, so we had to and—” Several puzzle pieces fly into place. Helped along by Lu’s rather loud screech of “papa” directly into Killian’s ear, and Emma is glad she hasn’t eaten. Throwing up on Henry’s shoes is not the festive reunion it should be. “I’m really here,” Henry adds, reading Emma’s mind. Or her face. “No matter what you think might have happened in Neverland, it didn’t. I’m here, and you’re here and Killian made food, so you should probably eat.” She’d been right about the puzzle, it is a pretty picture. One that doesn’t belong to her, entirely. But pretty all the same. Desirable, maybe.

That’s a dangerous line of thinking.

“Hook can cook? Ignore that rhyme, please.” Henry grins, marching them back towards the house as David yells something about getting Snow from school and then there are smells and kids and that goddamn Christmas tree. And it takes Emma a few moments she thinks she deserves to realize—

“How did Henry know I’d come from Neverland?” she asks Killian, standing in the middle of the kitchen. He’s stirring something. She’ll think about that for at least two hours.

“I told him.” “How did you know?” Leveling her with an incredulous stare, Emma once again fails at the whole no blushing thing, and they own a stand mixer. Only adults own stand mixers. “How many times should I request you give me more credit before that also becomes redundant?” “This is probably good enough.” “Generous of you, and it wasn’t very hard. Although I am still trying to pinpoint when it was, exactly. Quite a lot happened in Neverland.” “Looking awfully smug about that.” He shakes his head, offering her the spoon and there’s sauce there. Delicious sauce. This must happen a lot. “Hard to do that when you can’t look at me straight on, but—” “—Echo Caves,” Emma says, rushing to interrupt him. Killian’s eyebrows jump.

“Huh.” “Regina doesn’t think telling me things will affect anything.” “Huh.” “Nothing to add to that?” Silence. More relative, at least. The TV is on, and a pillow fort is apparently being engineered in the living room, and everyone was very quick to leave the pair of them alone. With the sauce. “Thank you, though.”

“For?” “Getting Henry here, whatever favors you had to call in. I—well, Dad told me some of the stuff, and it’s...nice.” His lips disappear when he presses them together. Emma’s still staring, it seems. “Part of the deal, I think.” “Of?” “You really want me to answer that?” “Probably not,” Emma exhales, “but—still. It’s nice, and I...well, I appreciate it.”

“That’s not something you have to thank me for, love. Now, c’mon, I know you haven’t eaten and there are some ravenous kids out there who will mutiny if we don’t get them spaghetti soon.”

Emma nods, not able to say anything else because nice is suddenly a vast understatement, and she eats a second bowl of mostly sauce, and she never really knows how she gets back into bed, only that she fell asleep under the pillow fort with Killian’s shoulder close to hers.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #cs fic #but once a year #festive fic a thon 2k20 #true story: i wrote this chapter #forgot about the absolutely bonkers state of the show's legitimate timeline #and had to go back and age up robyn #or however it's spelled #honestly i did very minimal research for this story

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lilacyennefer · 4 years

Text

Something More

A/N: I'm in such a Raleigh mood lately so I had to write something with him, but I wanted to make it really perfect and tbh I'm not sure if I achieved that so feedback is really appreciated! Also I didn't really proof read it so if there's any mistakes, I apolagise.

TW: nothing really maybe just mention of characters death and light smut

The sound of celebration is clearly heard in the room as you lay with Raleigh on the bed, in complete silence. People are celebrating the end of the war, you and Raleigh closed the Breach, and after the two of you went through many tests to see if you had any health issues, you came back to the Shatterdome. Neither you and Raleigh were in the mood to celebrate so you went up to Raleigh’s room and now the two of you are cuddling on his bed, in silence. You’re resting your head on his shoulder, his arm is wrapped around you, holding you close. You only knew each other for a few days, but there was a strong bond between the two of you. Earlier, when you asked Raleigh if he thinks it’s because of the drift, he immediately so confidently said he’s sure it’s not only the drift, you wouldn’t have matched with him during the tryouts if there wasn’t something more. His answer relaxed you, but also made you nervous about your future.

“What will happen now, Raleigh?” You ask quietly, you don’t need to clarify what you mean, your mind is still somehow connected to his. People who drift can ghost-drift for like a year, so your and Raleigh’s brain are still connected, melted together.

“What do you want to happen?” He turns his head to look at you.

“You know what I want.” You whisper again, looking him in the eye hopefully. His eyes skim over your face, drinking in every little detail before he speaks again.

“I don’t want to lose you either. You’re the only one left for me.” he whispers. None of you had any family left, you lost your sister during a fight with a kaiju, just as Raleigh lost his brother during a fight. You decide to be bold, and lean closer to Raleigh to press your lips to his, in a gentle, small kiss. He looks at you surprised first, then he cups your face and leans down to kiss you, softly, as his tongue slips between your lips into your mouth, massaging his tongue gently against yours. You moan the same time as Raleigh groans, and he pulls you closer to himself. You break the kiss breathlessly, and Raleigh touches your forehead with his, a gesture he seems to really like.

You honestly think this whole press tour is ridiculous, you weren't in the mood to recall all the painful memories of the past year’s events, and to answer the reporters, and you know that Raleigh feels the same. The nice side of this whole circus was the nice hotel rooms and meals you got, you don’t remember when was the last time you had proper coffee, and the first time you finally drank coffee again, your body melted. Raleigh and you were sleeping together since the night the war ended, you didn’t had sex yet, but both of you could sleep better when you shared a bed. Until one night it happened. You were making out in the bed, hands are all over each other, and soon Raleigh was on the top of you, deep inside of you, moving perfectly, when it happens again. Your mind connects ro Raleigh’s and his to yours, and suddenly everything what he feels you feel it too, and your pleasure is suddenly his too. You moan his name, hugging him closer as you make love to each other while you ghost drift. You see and feel yourself through him, you know what he thinks about you, and his pleasure adds to yours. Raleigh is about to whisper that he loves you, but he doesn’t need to, you’re in his head and you know he’s about to say it, and you say it back to him, make him feel loved the way he makes you feel loved. Both of you pour your hearts out to each other, completely open your souls for each other.

“Where are we gonna go after this ends?” you ask Raleigh sadly. None of you had a home, and you absolutely have no idea where you should go.

“I have an idea, if you agree with it.” he says with a small smile. You look at him curious before you ask what he has in mind.

“A farm.” Raleigh says happily. You look at him surprised, a shocked expression on your face.

“A farm?” you ask him in disbelief.

“Yes.” he answers and steps closer to you, he places his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. “I figured it would be a good escape. We could have some animals, away from people, away from the ocean. There’s always something to do on a farm so we both could keep ourselves a bit busy.” you watch him excitedly express his ideas about your future with him and you can’t help, but smile at him.

“I really like the idea. And you’re right, we should be as far from the ocean as we can.” Both of you had enough of it, and it always brings up bad memories for both of you.

“But you still haven’t answered my question. Where should we go?” you ask Raleigh again.

“How about Budapest?” he asks you, and again, you look at him surprised.

“Why exactly Hungary?” you ask him, but then, you remember. Memories, not yours, of young Yancy and Raleigh floods your brain, you watch the young Becket boys play around. You remember the story, Raleigh and his brother spent a summer in Budapest, and Yancy always wanted to go back there, and this is why Raleigh wants to go there.

“Okay.” you agree with him “But I have a condition.” you say with a small smile.

“What’s that?” Raleigh asks with a smile.

“I want bunnies.” you answer and Raleigh lets out a laugh.

“You want bunnies?”

“Yes. And chicken.”

“Alright.” Raleigh smiles at you then leans down to kiss you.

And this is how you ended up in a farm, outside Budapest, a really beautiful, big farm, with chickens and bunnies as you wished. It’s almost winter, and Raleigh built a house in the garden for your animals, so they won’t freeze. Raleigh really enjoyed this farm life, every morning he wakes up with such joy to go and feed the animals, collect the eggs, and do whatever he wants to do. And you, you planted flowers and fruits, and even some herbs, and you loved to take care of them, and collect your own fruits and eat them, there was something satisfying in eating something what you grew. You’re sitting on the porch with a hot tea in hand as you watch Raleigh do some work. He wears a simple dark blue knitted sweater, his hair is a little bit longer, so is his beard. You watch him happily work, ever since you moved here both of you are relaxed and really happy. You deserve this, you think, both of you do after all the things you went through. Raleigh slowly walks towards you and sits down next to you in the swing bed what he built, he puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. He places a kiss on your forehead and you lean your head on his shoulder.

“Are you happy?” He asks you and you look at him confused.

“Of course. Why are you asking this?” Raleigh shrugs.

“Just wanted to make sure.”

“And what about you?” you ask Raleigh. He smiles at you softly, there’s something in his eyes what you can’t read. You don’t ghost drift anymore, or at least not as much as you’d like. You genuinely liked ghost drifting with Raleigh, liked feeling so connected to him, it was something unexpected for both of you as lovers, and it made both of you feel incredibly close to each other.

“I’m beyond happy.” he answers and kisses your forehead. You don’t say anything, you keep sitting on the porch in Raleigh’s arms, watching the sunset. At one point Raleigh said you should start making dinner, so you went in the house and you guys made dinner together what you ate, then watched a movie together. You’re sitting on the bed in your fluffy robe, drying your hair with a towel when Raleigh walks out of the bathroom, wearing nothing, but a towel. You look him up and down, water drops dripping down on his perfect body. He walks to his drawer and pulls it out, taking a boxer out and he sits down on the bed next to you. He looks at you with a soft smile, his eyes are full of with admiration for you.

“You’re so beautiful.” he whispers and you smile at him, but before you could say anything he continues “I never thought I could find happiness again after what happened to Yancy. But you came into my life and in the first minute I saw you, I knew I was in love. It probably sounds silly, but it feels like our meeting and that we were drift compatible were all destiny. Two broken people found each other and they found a new family and love. I love you so so much.” he says and takes a small box and places it between you and him on the bed. He opens the blue velvet box and reveals a beautiful, simple diamond engagement ring in it. You gasp when you see it, you look at him shocked.

“Will you make me even happier and will you marry me?” Raleigh asks and you feel tears in your eyes as you nod.

“Yes! Yes of course!” you say happily and you hug Raleigh close. He hugs you even closer, wrapping his big arms around you. You eventually pull away and kiss him passionately, and when you pull away he slips the ring on your finger, and you start a new chapter in your life together.

#charlie hunnam #raleigh becket #Raleigh Becket fanfiction #Raleigh Becket x reader

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jamielea81 · 5 years

Text

Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 1

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

A/N: This fic is simply for fun. I know nothing about the personal lives of the two actors in this series and mean no harm. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. This particular chapter is Chris light as it’s mainly a getting to know the reader. Chapters going forward will be heavy on the Chris aspect. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome. Tag list is open, please send me an ask.

“Do you have the ring?”

“Of course, I have the ring.” You let out a frustrated breath. “This is so silly.”

Joanna chuckles over the line. “Where did you manage to get a ring from anyway?”

“It’s my grandmother’s. I feel like I’m majorly disrespecting her by wearing it when I’m not even engaged. Not to mention I’ve been single for-ev-er.” You drawl out.

“Breathe babe. Just breathe.” She says softly.

You inhale deeply and exhale it slowly.

“Maybe don’t do that directly into the phone.” She laughs again.

“Joanna Elizabeth.” You growl. “Why am I doing this?” You ask catching a glimpse of your reflection in the review mirror. Running a hand through your hair, you see the diamond engagement ring on your left finger. It feels so foreign, even stranger seeing it.

“Because this is a great opportunity to advance your career. Stone Lite is a major studio, Y/N. You can’t keep working on those student films.”

“Hey! I worked on a couple of independent movies. One even showed at Sundance.” You defend.

“And that’s awesome. Really. But this could be your big in. You’ve been doing this, what, for ten years?”

She was right. Ten years and the majority of your income came from student funded films and slinging beers three nights a week.

“And by your silence, you know I am right.”

Smug bitch.

“Ahuh.” You sigh.

“Look, I know it’s not right, but if this increases your chances of getting hired, just wear the damn ring.” Joanna huffs out.

“Easy for you to say, oh, wise married one.”

Joanna previously worked for Stone Lite Studios before moving on to Sony. It was a well-known amongst the employees that if you wanted to get hired for any position that put you in direct contact with any of the actors, you needed to be married. The studio was concerned with fan girls and fan boys. As if adults couldn’t control their urges and not make unwanted advances. Not to mention, married or not, some people still have affairs. Now granted, not every person there was married, but you had a greater advantage to get the job if you were. Right or wrong.

You drew the line at saying you were actually married and settled on being engaged. Not wanting to worry about details like how you kept your last name and lying on the tax forms you’d have to fill out. Even though you’ve only worked on small projects, Hollywood was surprisingly small when it came to the industry. It would be a lot harder to explain a sudden husband versus a fiancé. With Joanna’s agreement, you took your grandmother’s engagement ring from your jewelry box and slipped it on your finger.

“I’m just saying, give it a shot and see where this goes.” She reasoned.

“You’re right. You’re right. I better go in anyway. There’s a golf cart that keeps circling around the lot. They’re probably getting suspicious as to why I’m still in my car.”

She let out a chuckle. “They’re going to give you a ride to the offices. Welcome to the big leagues baby.”

“Ms. Y/L/N, may I call you Y/N? Barbara Floyd, the interviewer and also the production manager asked.

The two of you had already gone over your previous crew history where you held a variety of positions including editor, grip, writer, and even wardrobe. On a whim, you took a script supervisor position on an independent short and really enjoyed it. The next job you took was on full length film in the same position, that’s when you decided that’s where your passion lied. Despite the copious amount of responsibility and that often brought on your anxiety, you loved the challenge.

“Of course, Mrs. Floyd.”

Her eyes went directly to your left hand. “That’s a beautiful ring.” She says.

Here we go.

“Thank you.” You stick your hand out for added affect.

“When’s the wedding?” She asks.

“Next year. We have a lot of out of town family. We just want to make sure they have time to arrange travel.”

Look at me lie. Maybe I should have tried acting.

“I’m sure it will be lovely.” She replies with a wide smile. “I’d like to introduce you to a few people. Please come with me.”

You received a contract via e-mail later that evening. They were bringing you on for one film with the option of three additional films after production. Granted, that’s if you didn’t mess up. Joanna was right, this is the big leagues. If you could make it through the next three to four months, you’d have a long term contract with a major studio.

The next day you received the script. Winter’s Sin was the working title. Whether or not the title would stick was anyone’s guess. You had worked with a few well-known actors, but more of the B list variety. Wonderfully talented actors, but they just didn’t get the parts or the recognition they often deserved. This film had a couple of big names, Keanu Reeves and Chris Evans to be exact. Maggie Jessup was this year’s it girl and rumor had it, this movie was going to launch her into stardom. Generally, you didn’t get star struck, but this was Keanu Reeves! You first fell in love with him when you saw Speed. And again, when you watched The Lake House. Too bad you were technically “engaged”.

Pre-production was set to start next week. This week would be spent going over the script a few times and creating notes. Some wouldn’t consider it the fun part of the job, but you loved diving into a script before it was brought to life. It was also a bonus that you generally liked the script. It was sort of a weepy drama with a love story tied in. But the main plot was between two friends, Milo played by Keanu and William played by Chris. You stayed up half the night and made it almost all the way through. To say you were invested was an understatement.

You read through the script twice more over the next few days and felt ready. Next week you would meet with wardrobe and the writers. The cast would be fitted and you would take photos for your own personal files to make sure styles remain the same for the shoot. Of course, this could all change the day shooting begins which is why you needed to be on your A game and get all the drinking out of the way tonight. You’d have Sunday to recover before starting at the studio on Monday.

Laurel Tavern wasn’t necessarily your favorite bar, but it had become the place to get a bite to eat and a few drinks. It was also the most centrally located place for you and your friends to meet. Joanna and her husband Ian picked you up on the way, knowing you wanted to drink to excess. The three of you along with Travis and Jemma were celebrating your new job tonight. The five of you often found reasons to celebrate whether it was finding a twenty dollar bill on the side of the road, not getting fired from a particular job you’ve been slacking at, for the record, that was Travis, or getting a full eight hours of sleep. Tonight, was really worth celebrating.

“What do you want girl?” Joanna asked, getting up from your usual booth. “First rounds on me. If you’re nice, I might even buy you a second.” She throws you a wink.

“Ummm. I’d like a margarita, hold the margarita.” You say in all seriousness.

“Tequila. Got it.” She says before turning away and heading to the bar.

“Extra limes.” You shout.

She waves her hand behind her head, not bothering to spare your table a look.

Travis joins your booth, a couple of pints of beer in hand. “Here, I brought you one.” Setting a pint of golden goodness in front of you.

You lean over kissing his cheek. “I feel so special.” You coo.

Travis wormed his way into your life seven years ago. He was a senior in college at the time, tall and lanky with hair that stuck out from under his hat. He was filming his final project before graduation. The two of you had a mutual friend in common, Jemma, who was an ex-girlfriend of Travis, how they stayed friends, was beyond you. You helped with directing, a little bit of script management, and even filled in for makeup on a few days. Anything to help a friend of a friend. Travis became your pseudo little brother, well, a brother that you kissed once. You had just broken up with Chad, never date a guy name Chad. Anyway, you had just broken up with Chad and were feeling down in the dumps about yourself. He fed you some bullshit about never being there for him when he needed you. You got angry, he got angry, and then he told you that you weren’t hot enough for him. Yep, Chad was a douche. Travis invited you over, feed you pizza and a ton of beers, then you kissed. He wasn’t a bad kisser, but it felt weird. He was five years younger than you, but it wasn’t just that, he was too much like a brother. The two of you agreed that it was a mistake and never brought it up again. Not even Jemma knew.

The five of you munched on burgers and grilled cheese sandwiches. Jemma bought you a margarita, even after you told her you just wanted the tequila. Her motive was to mooch some of the beverage off of you.

“I don’t want all of the calories. I just want to try it.” She grins. Big rosy cheeks and wild blonde hair. Her British accent on full affect after already consuming a few shots herself. She had lived in the United States most of her life, but when she drank, the accent became heavier.

She grabs your drink, taking a hold of the straw and consumes half of it in one go. If you didn’t love her, you would have ditched her years ago.

Pushing Ian out of the booth, you get up on wobbly feet and make the long twenty foot journey to the bar. “I’ll get my tequila myself. Thank you very much.” You tell the table.

It’s after midnight by the time you’re dropped off. Running a makeup remover cloth over your face and stripping down to a cami, you call it good enough and crawl into your cozy bed.

After a pit stop at Starbucks, you make it to the studio an hour earlier than you need to be. After parking in Timbuctoo, you graciously accept the golf cart ride from security.

One of the admins directs you to a small office down a long hallway with similar offices. There’s a laptop computer, various pens and notepads on the desk. You unpack a small plant you picked up yesterday after you dragged your hungover self out of bed and to the grocery store for food. There was no window in your office which you figured; a little greenery would liven the place up, literally.

An hour later, one of the producers, David, came by to introduce himself and walk you around the grounds and through the soundstage you’d be shooting on. Filming would take place on the soundstage for a little more than a month. Then everyone would move the whole operation to Vancouver. The movie was called Winter’s Sin after all and there wasn’t a whole lot of winter in Los Angeles.

Before stopping back in your office, David popped into the office across from yours. He knocked while walking in, apparently already comfortable with the occupant.

“Hey Monica. I want you to meet Y/N. She’s the assistant script supervisor I was telling you about.”

Assistant? What?

Monica got up from her chair to greet you. You plastered on a smile and stuck out your hand. She was around your age and seriously gorgeous. Beautiful thick brown hair with a touch of caramel highlights that hung just above her chest.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m looking forward to working with you. Would love to hear some of your ideas.”

“Same.”

What could you say? You weren’t told that you were an assistant script supervisor, you thought you had the position. Apparently, it was a shared position.

“Y/N will be working primarily with Chris and Keanu.”

Whoa. Well, at least there’s that.

Monica scoffs. “Really?”

Your eyes automatically go to her left hand. No ring. Of course.

“Yes, really. You’ve got Maggie. I think she can really flourish under your direction. Not to mention you have Hector, Tim, Daisy and Joe.

After the awkward exchange, you traded cellphone numbers with her and made plans to meet after the first read through with the cast.

Walking across the way into the safety of your office, you figured you might as well ask.

“I wasn’t aware that I was being hired on as an assistant script supervisor.”

David ran a hand down his face. “Y/N, listen. This is your first big film; you need to walk before you can run. Alright? If this goes well, you’ll probably get hired on as the lead.”

“Okay.” You sighed out

“Alright, I’ll see you later. Meeting at three on the soundstage.”

“Got it.” You replied, plopping yourself down in the desk chair.

David peeks his head back into your office. “You’ve got some visitors.”

“Thanks.” You call out, standing back up and pulling your door open wider.

Your heart stopped. At least you were pretty sure it did. Keanu and Chris were both in front of you. Yes, you were there to film a movie, but this felt like a freaking movie. The two of them, side by side, grins on their faces. Keanu’s hand outstretched while Chris’ hands were snugly in the front pockets of his jeans.

“Y/N, pleasure to meet you. I’m Keanu.”

You accept his hand but your pretty much speechless. You may have muttered “hi” but you can’t be sure. Sensing your nervousness, he gives you a smile and releases your hand. He looks to Chris and they exchange a silent conversation. Chris steps forward offering you his hand and once again you can’t breathe.

Has he always been this attractive? Apparently, I haven’t watched enough Avengers movies.

His hair’s a bit longer than what you remember from the one or two movies you’ve seen. He’s also sporting a full beard. Definitely something he can pull off.

You mentally slap yourself and pull your hand from his after you realize you hadn’t said anything.

“Um. Sorry. Haven’t had enough caffeine today. It’s nice to meet you both. I look forward to working with you on this shoot.”

“Nice plant.” Keanu says, pointing at the fern taking up the front corner of your desk.

You giggle. Like actually let out a giggle and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are flushed.

You’re a professional. Get your shit together.

“Well, you know?” Shrugging your shoulders. “Need to green the space up a bit.’

Chris nods his head and offers a closed mouth smile.

“Well, we won’t take up all your time. Just wanted to say hello.”

“Hello.” You reply with a wave.

Why am I so awkward?!

They both chuckle and Chris waves back at you.

Tomorrow you wouldn’t be so starstruck. These are just two men that you work with. Who cares that they both seem nice and are dangerously attractive? You’re an “engaged” woman who is also a professional. You can do this.

Yeah. I can do this.

If you are crossed out, I can’t tag you.

Tag list: @southerngracela @chrisevansforever @chrisevansfanfic @zsuzstyina @peach-acid @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob@patzammit @heartislubbingdubbing @collinsstanharbour @twittytelly @thefandomzoneisdangerous @linki-locks11 @jennmurawski13

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #keanu reeves #actor fic #Chris Evans Fan Fiction #just a simple lie #Chris Evans x Reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

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cottoncanb · 5 years

Text

SFW Alphabet (Zion Kuwonu)

I’ll start with him so please let me know if you want the others (I’m working on Austin right now). Also do you guys want me to do NSFW alphabets (I’m going to anyway I just thought it would be polite to ask)?

Happy reading :)

———————————————————————

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

• I think he’s really affectionate.

• Whether it is in public or in private I just feel like he has the same affectionate energy. You wanna make out in a grocery store? He’s got you. Grabbing your ass in a coffee shop? He’s got you.

• I just don’t see him as someone who cares what others have to say about it because you’re his baby and that’s all that matters.

• So he’d want to have you on his lap, if not then his hand is on your thigh. If you’re walking around then he’s got his arm around you waist or if you’re just standing then he’s hugging you.

• In private? Freak Zion™

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

• I think he’s the fried you go to when you’re looking for a good time.

• So he’s your ride or die, down to go anywhere and everywhere whenever you want to.

• I think he’d also be a great listener, not too sure about giving great advice but I think if you need someone to listen to so you can council yourself and not feel like a crazy person then he will definitely lend you his ear.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

• Big spoon and he loves it. I think this has more to do with the fact that he’s so tall so having your frame engulfed by his just feels great.

• Having you in his arms would be his favourite thing ever because you're like his own pillow. Loves to rest his head on your highs or stomach because they are warm and comfortable as hell.

• Long hugs>

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and?)

• I think he does eventually want to settle down but not right now. Maybe in the next 8-10 years because he’s still young and wants to have that “freedom”

• This isn’t to say he doesn’t take your relationship seriously, you’re definitely special to him but I think he’d want to go into a marriage and give it all he has to give and not half as it should he get married now.

• I don’t think he’s an amazing cook, maybe the basics but nothing too complicated.

• I think he’s kinda messy and kinda clean. Like he could have one day when he’d decide to clean and he’d do an amazing job then as time progresses it gets messy and the cycle continues.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

• I think he’d be blatant when telling you that things aren’t working out

• I don’t see him as someone who would want to waste either his or your time so I think he’d be up front with how he feels.

• I do think that he would be down to try solve whatever problem the two of you would be having to try salvage the relationship because that’s how deeply he cares about you but if you’ve reached the point of no return then I don’t think he’d put up too much of a fight.

• That being said the relationship wouldn’t end on poor terms because you both talked it out and come to that conclusion.

F = Fiance (e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

• I don’t think he'd have a huge problem wit the concept of commitment

• I do think that when he comes to realise how serious things are getting he’d be freaked out (in a good way don’t worry) and so he’s excited to grow with yu

• I don’t think he’d rush into marriage because it would conflict with Prettymuch right now but as soon as things calm down I definitely think marriage is an option

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

• I THINK L HE IS SO SOFT

• I mean how could he not be he’s like this huge teddy bear

• So hand holding, caressing your cheek, trailing his hand up and down your back

• Emotionally I think he’s gentle because he understands how easy it is to upset someone and this definitely isn’t something he’d to do

• This isn’t to say he’d walk on eggshells around you, I just think he’d choose his words wisely while still being open

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

• He love hugs because he likes the feel of your body on his

• The warmth

• You can hear his heart rate pick u when you kiss his chest

• Sometimes hell grab your ass because that’s just who he is

• It’s like a stress ball for him

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

• Even though guys typically come round to saying the L-word quickly I don’t think he’d hurry into it simply because he wouldn’t want to scare you way

• I think if he came to the realisation then he’d keep it to himself so that he’d have you say it first so he knows that the feelings are being reciprocated and this isn’t a one sided relationship

• When he does saying I think you should be prepared for a very sentimental and soft Zion because I think he’d pull out all the stops

• Like telling you when he realised he loved you and what that felt like for him because this is a fist time thing and he’s never felt so intensely about someone before.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

• I don’t think he’d be too much of the jealous type simply because I think he’d understand that if he is with you then it’s for a reason.

• This isn’t to say that weird acting dudes wouldn’t elicit a reaction out of him

• This reaction just isn’t him having a temper tantrum or anything I think it would just subtle things to let that person know that you’re his and only his.

• So in that sense he’s protective over you because he cares a lot and he knows he’s with a diamond and doesn’t want to risk losing this diamond

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

• Hear me out, kisses with him can either be really cute or really sexy

• So the cute kisses are pecks or soft kisses and they linger long enough to have butterflies erupt in both of our bellies

• I do think that he is an amazing kisser (HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE LIPS) and so you want them all over you

• Now the sexy kisses get you hot and bothered because he knows just what to do to rile you up. It’s like aggressive and slow and passionate and just the perfect combination because you just can’t get enough of him

• I think he could really fuck with you while you’re making out because he likes to see you frustrated

• But when he doesn’t want to play games, buckle your seatbelt because you are in for a ride

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

• I think kids would love him because he’s like this giant teddy bear that just attracts anyone and everyone

• Maybe they find him intimidating because of how tall he is but once they get past that then it ink the a bond with him and a child is the most pure thing in the world

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

• Mornings are really chilled and lazy

• You spend time in bed just being in each other’s space, like you don’t really have to be talking to each other just a comfortable silence

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

• Giggles under the blankets because of how silly you both are

• Talks of the future, like marriage and stuff because he considers you his wife and the idea of it being legitimate excited him

• Some nights you go out to party and I think that you two are the best combo because you have fun individually but together is another beautiful story

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

• I think once he’s sure he can trust you and knows that you’re as serious about him as he is about you then he will let you know who he really is

• I think you’d get to see his vulnerable side slowly because he knows dishing out emotions all at once would be over whelming not just for him but for you as well

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

• I don’t see Zion as someone who loses his temper frequently

• I think he’d just get annoyed and that it would take a lot to get him angry

• When he does get angry I see him yelling or just being loud in general because it’s the best way for him to make his opinions and stuff heard

• In his anger I don t think he’s really one to listen to the opinion of whoever he’s arguing with simply because he’s got the “my way or the high way” mindset in this particular instance (other than that he’s a considerate guy)

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

• I think he’d remember the important things and little things that make you who you are

• Like he’d know you like fries so he’d make sure to order extra so you can have some of his when you’re done with yours

• Or he’d remember that one time you said you hated the green skittles so he’d make sure to leave just those for you to piss you off.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

• I think your first fate with him would be his favourite memory because he remembers the beginning of his feelings for you

• The butterflies and the nervousness

• Your first kiss would be another because that’s what got him whipped

• The first time you spent the night together because it showed how comfortable you were with him

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

• I think he’d be protective in the sense that he liked your relationship to be away from the public eye

• I mean I do think he’d still post pictures and videos of you or the two of you but I don’t think you’d be a social media couple where you show virtually every aspect of your relationship with him

• This is because he knows the media is cruel sometimes and he doesn’t want you to deal with backlash because you’re associated with him

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

• Zion goes all out

• I think he plans each date to the T and even when it’s a spontaneous date I think he’d still put all his effort into it because your happiness is important to him

• I think he’d buy you cute little gifts once in a while because he likes to spoil his partner and likes the twinkle in your eye when you get excited

• Anniversaries = Romantic Zion™

• A whole lotta love

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

• Not to be corny but he looks like someone who would leave the toilet set up

• Which I know is something that’s not overly significant but that shit is still annoying

• I think sometimes he’d also forget to clean up after himself so there would be things lying around the house

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

• I think he cares what he looks like not for the pubic but for him

• I think he wants to look good for him because he can look good for him

• The king of self love

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

• Yes.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

• Imagine him coming back from tour and being all cute and shit

• Wanting to be near you because he’s been away for so long so we get Clingy Zion™

• So many kisses and cuddles

• I think he’d make sure to give you all the love you missed while he was away

• lots of orgasms

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

• I think someone who bases their persona off of other people’s opinions wouldn’t be attractive to hi because I thinks he’d want to be with someone who is unapologetically themselves

• That being said if you dress like a basic bitch I don’t think you’re it for Zion (I’m sorry if you feel attacked)

• Someone who can hold their own would be important too because I think he'd like to be with someone who is independent and wouldn’t rely on hi or others for each and every move they make

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

• He looks like he snores but not too loud, just soft and loud enough for you to notice but quiet enough not to bother you

• He also uses you as a pillow so dot count on leaving the bed before he wakes up

#prettymuch imagines #prettymuch #prettymuch imagine #zion kuwonu #zion kuwonu imagine #zion kuwonu imagines

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spacyparker · 5 years

Text

Perfectly imperfect || t.h

MASTERLIST - PROMPT LIST

Summary : You had broken up with Tom 2 months ago, but that doesn’t mean there is no more love between the two of you. But maybe it is still too late.

Characters : Tom Holland x reader

Word count : 2.3k

Warnings : Words !! I am not the polite type haha !Also I think it is just some kind of sadness and fluff !

A/N : I gotta say I am mostly proud of myself for this one ! Can’t wait for your feedback :) gonna write a part 2 if you guys want one !

There was once a promise, then there was a ring, and now only remained the last one. But that, Tom didn't know. He actually didn't know a fucking thing about you that would have had happened in the last two months. Because why would you two even speak ? You were split, broken up, fallen. And even though he asked Harrison many times about you, because damn he knew too well you both kept contact, the blonde guy had never told him a single thing. He was lost, hopeless and alone. Alone ? Was it really a word to use to describe Tom at that time ? He thought so, but no. Why would he even be alone ? He was Tom freaking Holland, and he could be partying and hooking up whenever he'd want. Which in fact he was actually doing.

There were moments were he cried. He cried because he missed you, because he had never given back your stuff in two months just like you didn't either. How many times did his brother caught him in the dark in his room, only holding your shirt that didn't even smelt like you anymore with red puffy eyes ? He cried because no one in the morning would make his eggs as crunchy as you as you were never a chef and always left pieces of eggshell in the plate. That thing was so fucking annoying when it happened back then, but now he was only nostalgic of your imperfections that got him so up on heels for you. He missed the scent of your hair and skin, the feeling of flesh against flesh, your bright Y/E/C eyes and that smile, that fucking smile that would always put one on his own lips.

He had screwed everything up, and he knew it. But Tom never saw or understood what he was doing wrong when you two were still together. He took you for granted, he played and he lost. Now remained emptiness in his chest even though he tried not to show anybody. But everybody knew. And every time he'd bring a girl to a date, or spent the night with someone, everybody stayed quiet. Because he was broken, and no one wanted to calm his enthusiasm. Nothing made sense. Not a fucking thing he did made sense. And not only his family and friends could see it, but the whole world. He was Tom freaking Holland, and paparazzi got his ass. Every time he'd move, every time he'd talk, there were here, just waiting for him to explain why he was seen with that many girls out there while he never seemed like this kind of person before he got with you. But everything had changed and he was just trying to cope with the feeling of abandon.

Which was totally hypocritical. Because Tom was the one who abandoned you though he wasn't paying attention. In fact he wasn't paying attention to anything. He was always too busy, always too tired, always too far away, always too grumpy or too not in the mood. As days and days passed, you felt like you didn't have any more boyfriend. And you stayed in that position for a good month before you decided that yes, your friends were right, and you needed to leave his side. You had nothing to feel guilty about : you deserved better and he was the one who started all the shit. But still it broke you. It broke you because you missed his laugh whenever you'd tell a joke, and god you were always telling jokes. It broke you because you missed him sending you his shirts just so you could have something to sniff at night whenever he wasn't home. But it most of all broke you because you loved him, you loved me like you never loved someone before and knowing he wasn't “yours” was terrific. So when you started seeing all these pictures of him hanging out with different girls, you were both angry and released. You didn't want want to be associated with such a womanizer, but how could he start dating other girls only weeks after your break up ?

The truth was that Tom was only desperate. He always thought you were the one, and he had to force himself to get to the point where this wasn't an absolute truth. He didn't want to believe it, but what could he do ? He tried reaching you so many times with not a single answer to his calls, texts or indirects on instagram. There was only his memories and pictures that kept your relationship alive. And sometimes, sometimes Tom wondered if you still got those pics, because you used to take a lot together, and even these presents he bought you. He wondered if you kept the ring, the much talked about ring that got the internet craving for some more infos.

“Why are you staring at me like that ?” You asked with frowned brows as you chewed your nutella croissant. Tom couldn't get his eyes off you, and he got this big silly smile curling his lips. Which was kind of cool, but not when you wanted to eat your breakfast in peace. You were never a morning person.

“I have something for you.” He said in a high-pitched excited voice, higher than usual.

“Tom, I swear if you're going to fart again I'm leaving this house.” You relationship was… totally complex-free. At least it became that way the first time you burped by accident around him. He has always been his true and entire self ever since. Which was weird sometimes, but you loved how you two never had to hide anything from the other. Still, it was not like this happened everyday.

“Whuuut ?” He got a fake offended look stuck to his face. “I was trying to be romantic, you just ruined it !”

“How is saying 'I have something for you' romantic ?” You asked with frowned brows, again. It seemed to happen a lot when you were with him.

“It is romantic because the present I got you is romantic, can't you wait and see ?!” A small chuckle escaped his lips. Tom knew you weren't the desperate and delicate sentimental kind of girl, so he wasn't surprised this just seemed weird for you. Anyways, he really wanted to do that.

“Ok, go on.”

He gulped before a big bright smile got on his lips again, and he got a small square box from under the table. But you gave him no chance to open it. “No.” You said out of breathe, because you couldn't seem to do inhale anymore.

Tom knew it was a risky move. So many people already broke you before, and he already had so much trouble to release you from this shell you had built around you and your heart. He knew how much you had suffered, how much you promised yourself to never fall in love again before you met him, and how much you were still scared of engagement. Because you thought that letting someone come into your life was giving them the power to leave you. And God you didn't know at that time, but you should have had listened to your gut and just stop relationships for a while.

“This isn't a proposing !” He immediately reassured you, himself now panicking. Maybe it was a bad idea, after all. He just wanted to make clear to everyone how much he loved you. A sight of relief fell off your lips, and he continued with now a trembling voice. “I know a ring always seems so official and stuff, but… I want this to be a promise ring, and-”

“A promise ring pretty seems like a proposing to me.” You cut him before pinching your lips together, ruining the moment as you always did when everything was becoming too cute and fluffy. You just couldn't help yourself, you just couldn't let him get that fucking terrifying power.

His eyes seemed so affected it broke your heart. You weren't proud of yourself, but you worked this way. He knew it, and he was totally thinking the situation would turn this way when he thought about it. He had just hoped maybe this time it would work.

“I just… I want you to see the ring as a present, the image of the love I hold for you. We've been together for almost a year, now, and you really helped me with both my personal and professional life. I just thought I could give you that to thank you, and so it could remind you everyday I love you more than anything even if that sounds fucking cliché. I want to see this ring as the proof of the love we share, and we will always share. So what you say ?”

When he opened the box, your look fell on the ring it was previously hiding. It was a beautiful masterpiece, and you could tell this cost more than your car. It looked very simple and yet so beautiful, with a diamond in the middle that seemed rough instead of perfectly shaped and plain, and four gold branches were holding it, looking like real very small tree branches to you, before joining in a perfect circle so you could put it around your finger.

“It looks so perfect.” Was the only thing you managed to mutter while you couldn't look away from the jewel.

“Perfectly imperfect.” Tom added with an unsure smile. “Just like you say everything needs to be.”

“Okay.” You slightly nodded before looking back at him.

“Okay ?” His smile got bigger, as if he was going to rip his lips up from all the happy stretching.

“Okay.” You smiled back. A genuine smile. No one had ever proved you they loved you before, and maybe it was time to accept you were lovable too.

Now all he got was this memory, and the many articles that talked about that ring when everyone thought you were engaged. And to be honest, it really felt as if you were. But time changed and he lost that too.

After the breakup, Tom had started posting a lot of pictures, which wasn't really his type before. He just wanted you to notice him, to see him. He was losing himself too, faking being happy and sometimes going all mad and posting a quote over a black screen as any teenager would do nowadays. He wanted you to know he still lived without you, but that sometimes it wasn't enough. He was craving your touch, you voice, your laugh, your scent, your words, everything that made you you. He was craving you. So much he started stalking on your social medias, but you never posted anything. No picture, no video, no text, no story. Nothing, just a radio silence he hated.

Until this morning. But it seemed to happen so late he couldn't do anything anymore. Two months had passed, he had done so many shitty things, and there was finally a proof of you still being alive. When he opened instagram that morning, his heart missed a beat so fucking quickly he thought he could have died of it. But he was still alive. Kind of. He rushed, urging his thumb to press your profile picture that appeared in the top left corner of his screen, and soon your story appeared before him. He stopped breathing without even noticing, because you were simply breathtaking and he almost forgot how beautiful you could be. He looked at the video three times, making sure he wasn't hallucinating. But no, he couldn't get it wrong. This ring, this specific ring, this promise ring was still taking centre stage on your finger. And suddenly, suddenly Tom felt alive, with that fucking butterflies in his stomach.

“What time is it ?” Moaned a feminine voice beside him. He jumped by surprise. Fucked. He was so fucked. All of this was a mistake, and he was just realizing it now he had seen that fucking ring still on your fucking finger.

Truth is Tom had started dating a this blonde girl a few days ago. She was totally over him and he needed to feel loved. It wasn't that serious for him, but still he had decided to get into a real relationship with her, thinking that feelings would follow with time or he'd just leave her when he would be tired of her. But that just made a week they got together, and now he felt trapped. Because he wanted to try to talk to you again now that he saw this, but at the same time he didn't want to seem like a cheating boyfriend. He had never done that, and he didn't want to become one. All his previous hook ups were nothing serious, so he thought it didn't count. In fact, he always told the girls it was just a one night thing, so they couldn't say they weren't aware.

“It's ten.” He simply answered. And the girl moaned again before stretching her body.

“Kay, gonna go make breakfast then.” She leaned on to kiss his bare shoulder, not even bothering to look at his phone screen before she got up. This girl trusted Tom, and this was her mistake.

She left the room, certainly to go to the kitchen as she had just told, but Tom couldn't care about that. He didn't even bother to look at her leaving as he always did. Instead, he got to your profile and opened the chat, his heart beating way too quickly as he managed to type a fucking idiot sentence he sent you without even really thinking.

Text from TOM : You're still wearing it.

And with that, if you didn't answer, then maybe it was really not meant to be.

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kpopwh0re-blog · 5 years

Text

Who Are You?

BTS IMAGINES:

Help Me Remember Series: Part 1 intro

Member: Min Yoongi

Relationship: Min Yoongi x Reader

A/N: short, but it’s an introduction!

Reader’s POV

The show after a long day finally came to an end. Screams ending as the crowd left the building. You were led by staff to get your things from the dressing room. Jin’s laughter soon filling the hallway making you turn around. Yoongi was on his back as Jin bounded towards you. Your husbands sweet laughter filled the air as he gripped onto Jin. A smile gracing your face at the sight, you loved seeing him happy. Especially after all he’s been through with his depression and anxiety. Seeing him happy was all you could as for in the world.

Jin sets Yoongi down and complains that he’s hungry. Jungkook pushes past him saying he’s going to take all the snacks. Which causes Jin to pull him back so he could gain advantage to the snack table. Namjoon rolling his eyes at the two he walks alongside a stylist into the room. Her hand moved as she fanned him. Laughing at how people wish they were in stylists shoes working with their favorite idols.

“Aish, hurry up you two we have to get out of here quickly.” Hoseok passes by bopping you and Yoongi on the head. The two of you send him a glare due to the cute picture you were trying to take being ruined. A messy kiss was pressed to your cheek made Hoseok roll his eyes.

“Let’s retake it when we get back to the hotel okay?” Yoongi’s gummy smile greets the world as he smiles down at you. His hand taking yours and interlacing your fingers together. The two of you make your way down the hallway to join the others. People passed by with totes on carts. Equipment passed by in blurs as you all walked. The hallway loud as conversations filled it.

Bodyguards surrounded groups sparsely as the group headed towards the parked van. The frustrating part was always that some girls try to attack the boys. Girls screaming their names for every second as you guys stopped by the van. You stepped out of the way to grab your bag you accidentally dropped off the curb. But there was a force that sent you flying forward into traffic. Looking to the left your vision turned into slow motion....

The impact against the car shield made your body erupt in excruciating pain. Everything happening in a blink of an eye and your body hit another car and slams onto the ground. Screaming ended followed by male screams filling the air. Ringing in your ears flared up as everything blurred around you. Blood filling your vision just as hands gently held your face. Suffering was the exact feeling you had and you wondered, how are you still alive?

“____, baby I- s-stay with me please… oh my god there’s so much blood I-” Yoongi was cut off by a voice making him furrow his eyebrows. Tears falling down his cheeks as he looked down at your body.

“Yoongi! What are you doing get out of the street right n-”

“My wife’s in the fucking street! I’m not moving.” he grits out gently placing your head on his lap. The warmth of his fingers feeling lovely against your cold skin. Soon enough you saw six other heads above you surrounding the two of you. From what you could see is the boys with their big jackets on and squatting around you. They were doing that so no one could see your body. And if you could cry, you would. His members really do the most.

“Yoongi Hyung, I called for help it should be soon” Jimin’s soft voice fills your ears. You could hear the worry in his voice as he spoke to Yoongi who was crying above you. Hoseok panicking from all the blood trys wiping blood dripping down your head. Namjoon tried stopping Taehyung from placing his sweater on you.

“I don’t care if it’s my Gucci sweater… I can just by another one. I want to help stop the bleeding” he explains as he pressed the expensive fabric against your bleeding body. His hands adding pressure causing you to wince. The pain that courses through your body makes you become woozier.

“I- I love you guys..” your voice coming out as a whimper as you laid there.

“Hey, don’t talk right now, save your energy” Jin weakly smiles down at you as he takes hold of your hand. The warmth comforting because your body felt cold. You could feel your body temperature dropping as you all waited.

“Alright, we need to take her now. We can’t fit all seven of you in but we can take someone” the emt informs the boys as they lift your body up. Yoongi tells them he’s your husband and that he’ll go with you. And all you remember before everything going black is Yoongi taking your hand in his.

[Yoongi’s POV]

“We have a problem”

“He hasn’t moved, can someone get Jin?”

“I’ll be back I think I just saw him pass by!”

“Yoongi”

“Yoongs”

“Cmon snap out of it”

“Yoongi!” the dull voice pierced my ears making me blink a couple of times. Jin Hyung was looking down at me with a worried expression. My heart empty as I stood there in my red shiny suit. Stylists were brushing my hair with their fingers to fix it.

“Jin Hyung, I’m breaking Jin… I don’t know what to do. not even the music is helping.” my voice wavering all because music always helped. Music is my go to for anything. The sight of my studio doesn’t give me joy anymore.

Jin lets out a heavy sigh and placing his hands on my shoulders “Hey now, it’s been a couple weeks… I’m sure the doctors are doing what they can! Army is out there, just do your best! ____ would want you to do your best.”

“Yoongi, you’re up next get in position.”

“I’m coming… thanks Hyung” I turn away and head towards the group standing by the wing.

“Yoongi, you can’t go see her… we need you for the rest of the tour...”

“What do you fucking mean? It’s a quick trip!” I shout angrily standing up from my once seated position. Hoseok tugs me back down but I yank my hand out of his. A hurt expression on his face from my action.

“It’s just a couple of more weeks and we’ll be back… She’s going to be transferred to home care so if she does wake up she can see her surroundings, your hom-”

“Yeah IF she wakes up… do you know how hard it is for me to SING and be HAPPY when my wife is in a fucking COMA?”

“Y-Yoongi cmon, you’re going to get through this… you have us. ” Hoseok places his arms around my shoulder. My sobs fill the room as Hoseok holds on to me. Moments passed and Namjoon asks to speak to them privately outside. The rest of the boys join Hoseok for the hug which felt like forever. More time passed as my crying came to an end. It was as if I ran out of tears to shed.

“Just a couple of months, you’ve got this hyung”

“We’re here for you no matter what..”

“Enjoy your time home Yoongi, Its amazing she woke up before the tour ended..” my escort bows slightly before leaving my home and back to the car. Leaving me at my home I haven’t seen in quite a while. Holly running right to me when I opened the door making me smile. Everything was calm till I heard footsteps coming down the staircase. Standing up I walk past the piano towards the staircase. A woman bows slightly before introducing herself as ____ ‘s care taker.

“I just want to warn you, she has slight am-”

Ignoring the lady I run past her and bound up the stairs. Holly following me as I run into our bedroom. Only to find the bedroom empty and let out an exhausted sigh. Turning my body I take a seat on the bed and wonder how she must have felt. To wake up in a hospital after being asleep for so long.

“e-excuse me... who are you?” the voice I’ve yearned to hear makes my ears perk. My eyes look up to see the love of my life not holding a smile but fear. She doesn’t know who I am, and knowing that breaks me more and more..

Getting up slowly trying not to spook her I flash her a small smile. “U-uh hello, I’m Min Yoongi… I’m your husband” I explain bowing slightly. I feel so stupid for bowing because she’s my wife. Reaching behind my body I pull out my phone. Turning it around and show her the wedding photo I keep in the back of my phone at all times. The photo bringing me joy because I love her so much. It’s silly because she has the same photo in the back of her phone. She takes my phone from me looking at the photo intensely. Her eyebrows furrowing in the cute way I’ve know for the past five years of us being together. She takes her phone out of her pocket and holds the two devices side by side. A smile appearing on her face shortly after.

“I guess that lady wasn’t wrong… there’s so many pictures of us around here including us with Holly... I’ve seen you a lot on tv because of tour? Melody told me you’re an idol and she showed me videos of you and your friends” her smile lights up as she looks over at a picture of the seven of us hanging up in the bedroom. She hands me back my phone with a soft smile before heading towards the dresser. Her back turned to me as she picks up something from a jewelry dish.

“I didn’t put this on because I thought I’d wait for the man who’s filled in this house to put it back on me.” turning around I see that she’s holding her wedding ring. The dim light catching the diamond making it gleam.

“You don’t remember me though…” my heart sinking as I lock eyes with her. It seems so foreign to me that she’s actually awake, talking and thankfully still breathing.

“I know I really don’t remember everything. I know in my heart you’re important to me… my heart is beating so fast as the sight of you. I know it’s going to take a long time till I remember… can you help me remember please?” she asks placing the ring in my hand. The warmth of her hands holding mine made my heart leap. I’ve longed this for so long.

Why am I hesitating?

Why is my anxiety pulling me away from her?

She’s been gone for so long, I can’t let my fear continue.

Grabbing the ring from my palm I take her hand in mine. Taking a deep breath I say “I will do whatever I can to get you to remember me and the love we have… I won’t give up because you are my everything ____.”

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maaaaaatryoshka0325 · 6 years

Text

Christmas with Stray Kids! (Hyung Line)

Hey guys! I feel bad for not posting anything recently, and I’m gonna continue the Chan series after the new year. Things are H E C T I C right now.

Anyways! To make up for it, I’m gonna do the hyung line Christmas scenarios!

Chan:

Will most likely be working Christmas Eve

“Hey Y/N, sorry I won’t be able to make it in time to help you wrap presents. I hope you’re not mad.”

oh but you’re MAD

Why can’t you ever come first for once?

You angrily wrap every gift and put them neatly under the Christmas tree.

You sit on the couch in the dorm sipping hot chocolate and staring at the tree you were SUPPOSED to decorate together with the members

But guess what he was doing? You guessed it! working

You feel tears stream down your face as loneliness filled you

You eventually fall asleep, curled up in a blanket that smelt like him

You’re woken up by soft lips on your forehead

When you open your eyes, you see Chan’s smiling face.

“Merry Christmas Y/N. I’m sorry I was late, I finally was able to get you what I wanted to get you.”

He hands you a small box and your heart beat quickens

You open it and inside is a beautiful silver ring with a pretty diamond with smaller ones next to it

“I know its too soon to pop the question, but I wanted to get you a promise ring. Can you promise to love me even when I cant see you all the time? While I’m away on tour? When I’m so stressed out I cant even thing straight? When I cant make you laugh?”

Your eyes fill with tears as you hug him tightly and nod into the crook of his neck.

The other members walk in the room and you pry yourself away from Chan

“Merry Christmas Y/N” they all say, hugging you

You all spend the day opening gifts, watching Christmas movies, and eating together

“I love you.” Chan whispers in your ear as he holds your hand and stares at the ring around it

“I love you too, so much.” You whisper back, leaning your head into his neck

You both watch the members with loving gazes, and you hope every Christmas is this good.

Woojin:

You walk into the dorms to see your boyfriend, Woojin, asleep on the couch sitting up

You walk over and crawl in between his legs, curling up and pressing your head into his chest

You feel one of his hands gently grab your shoulder, and when you look up you see him smiling

“Hey babe, when did you get here?” he asks in his sexy tired voice

“I just walked in, we have stuff to do for tomorrow silly.” You say with a smile

He stretches and places a gentle kiss on your temple before getting up and going into the basement

He comes up with decorations and smiles at you

“We should've decorated earlier, it didn't feel like Christmas at all this year.” He says

“I know, but I wanted to do it with you.” You say

He smiles at you and presses a tender kiss to your head before pulling out a bunch of decorations

You both decorate the tree and look at it, leaning your head into his chest

“Lets go to bed.” He said, taking your hand and pulling you into the bedroom

you snuggled tightly into his chest, surrounded by his warmth and scent

You woke up to soft kisses and you smiled at him (He’s just the sweetest)

You both were startled as Jeongin jumped onto the both of you screaming for you two to get up

You both follow him to the living room where all the other members are

Woojin hands you a small box, and when you open it, it has a pretty silver ring with your birthstone in it

You cover your mouth and look at him as his smile grows bigger

“I saw you looking at it and knew you’d love it.”

After opening presents, you all snuggle up and watch movies all day

You were snuggled up to Woojin and Jeongin had his head on your thigh as the other members were clustered together in a giant cuddle pile, and you honestly wouldn't want it any other way

Minho:

You were in the dorms kitchen getting ingredients for cookies when you heard the door open

You felt cold arms wrap around you, and the fresh outside smell filled your nose, along with your boyfriends cologne

“Hey babe, when did you get here?” He asked, leaning his chin on your shoulder

“Not long, I told you guys I was gonna bake for tomorrow.” You said, smiling at him

He took of his coat and walked back over to you

“I’ll help, I’m off the rest of the day.” He says, rolling up his sleeves

You smile and start mixing the sugar and eggs along with the flour

You hear a slight commotion and when you look over, you see Minho with powder all over him

You immediately start cracking up so hard you start crying

He glares at you and then flicks some at you

Your mouth drops, and then you smirk at an idea

You stick your finger in some chocolate and poke his nose

He glares at you but cant help but smile as he wipes a chunk on your cheek

You gasp and then you both start to mess around

He finally pins you to the wall with a smirk

Your cheeks turn red, he knows he’s your weakness

But you also know you’re his weakness

You lick the tip of his nose that has the chocolate on It and he gives you a loving smile before kissing you

You giggle as he covers you with kisses

After your little flirt fight, you both finish baking and decide to lay together on the couch

You lay in between his legs, your head rested on his shoulder, his cheek on your head

You both fall asleep, comforted in each others warmth

You wake up to Felix shaking you

“Minho! Y/N! Wake up its Christmas!” He says happily.

You both stir and look at each other

He smiles and kisses your cheek

“Merry Christmas Y/N” He says tenderly

You all exchange gifts, and Minho hands you a long wrapped gift

You open it, and its a silver chained necklace with a heart and diamond in the middle

“It’s beautiful Minho.” You said, eyes tearing up a bit

He laughs at your reaction then puts it around your neck, hooking it in the back and admiring it on you

“You have to wear it whenever you go out, so people know you’re taken.” He says

You laugh and kiss his cheek

“I love you Minho.” You say

He smiles and kisses your lips

You both snuggle up and watch the members open their gifts, not wanting this moment to end

Changbin:

You both walked around the river, hand in hand

You had just finished your shopping, now its just quality time together

You can’t help but love moments like this, just you two, the quiet, the calm snow falling

He suddenly turned and looked at you

“What?” You asked

He smiled and kissed you, holding your hands to his chest

“I love you.” He said in a soft tone that made your heart skip a beat

“I love you too, so much.” You smile and he leans his head on your shoulder, pulling you close

“You okay babe?” You asked, kissing his head

“Of course baby, how could I not be when we have moments like this?” He asked, lifting his head and smiling at you.

You smiled back as he pulled you close and you buried your face into his chest, his cologne filling your nose (he’s so soft for you)

You got back to the dorms and he pulled you into his room

He dried his blankets and then wrapped you up into them, pulling you into his chest and burying his face in your hair as you fell asleep

You both woke up to the sound of the other members calling for you. You both went into the living room, hand in hand as you all exchanged gifts.

Changbin handed you a long box and when you opened it, a chain with both of your birthstones was in a locket.

LI thought you’d like this, and it’d look great on you” He said as he hooked it to your neck.

You smiled at him and burning your face into his neck. “I love it. And I love you.” You said with teary eyes.

You both snuggled up together with hot chocholate and Christmas movies, making it the best Christmas so far

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iheartgrayson · 7 years

Text

jealousy fear | ethan dolan

💘FLUFFY💘

A/N:FIRST ETHAN IMAGINE,YAYY!

SUMMARY: ETHAN SHOWS HIS JEALOUSY AND YOU ASSURE HIM THAT YOUR HEART BELONGS TO HIM.

WC: 1.6K

-Hi! Can you don an Ethan imagine where he gets jealous and y/n and him argue y/n thinks he’s going to hit her so she flinches and he feels really bad and makes it up to her it can end in smut or fluff up to you thanks babe!- thesophiarendon

Your tear stained cheeks, puffy red eyes and small whimpers didn’t make Ethan stop his loud talking or his anger. Sometimes, it confused you how just jealousy could take the best of him especially when he was absolutely wrong in every way.

“I can’t even believe you, Y/N!” Ethan yelled once again as he kicked the door close with a very big bump. It scared and you hugged yourself tighter. You didn’t know how you were going to prove him otherwise.

“Ethan! How many times am I going to stay that I didn’t do anything. He was just all over himself and he was the one that made a move. Come on, you know me and you know that I only love you.” You argued back almost raising your voice. You didn’t approve yells and screams and that’s why you tried to contain it.

Ethan rolled his eyes at your words and sat down on the couch, head on his hands and then his fingers pulling at his long dark hair. “Eh, so you tell me that he was just being himself?” He raised his thick eyebrows at you.

You stood in front of him, your head lowered to the floor and your head clouded with so many emotions that his words weren’t that clear to your head. “E, please. You need to believe me. We are together two years. Did I ever like ever do such a thing again?”

“Y/N, things like that can happen at any moment.” He argued back.

“But you know my ex. You know how clingy and stupid he can be. You can possibly blame me for his flirting.”

“What I saw is him sitting right beside you, his filthy hands on your face. I was gone for two minutes and you got behind my back?” Ethan questioned rather calm and it made you mad.

“I can’t believe what I am hearing.”

“And it’s not the first time either. Two months back, he was on your work and his hands was on your waist. Two weeks ago, he was being way to close to your body. What the fuck is going on Y/N, huh? Because there are way too many times he was near you.” Ethan got up from the couch, standing to his full height being intimidating to your small one and being way too scary for your liking. “And let’s not remember what he did the first few months of our relationship.”

Your eyes locked with his own dark ones. It was true what he said. Your ex boyfriend was never over the fact that you left him for Ethan and he was trying to ruin your relationship. You told him to stay friends but the guy was past that. He wanted you back. Even after two years. Even after so many times you told him no.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and struggled. “Ethan, I am assuring you that it was just his doing. Nothing else.”

“And how the fuck was he today at the restaurant that we were?” He asked you while raising his eyebrow.

“I don’t know. I have no clue. You have to believe me. I only love you Ethan. What I need to do in order to believe me?” you asked him.

“Get him out of your life.”

“I already did, two years ago.”

“Then you didn’t do it correctly. So, do that again.” At this point you were seeing red. You couldn’t believe the fact that he was not believing you and it made you mad. You had enough of his jealousy.

“Yeah? Then you should do that with that bitch you were dating before me.” you folded your hands in front of your chest. You felt a wave of guilty wash over you but you ignore it.

“What are you talking about?” Ethan narrowed his eyed, a thing he only did when he was lying.

“Don’t play stupid with me, Dolan. What were those texts between her and you? Was I dreaming them?” You were now yelling, ignoring the fact that your voice was so high that everyone could hear you.

“Y/N! This is not me and my ex. It is about you and your ex.”

“How is that different? If you assuming that I have an affair so do you.” You scoffed.

Ethan didn’t answer you right away. You watched as hell clenched his jaw and didn’t look at you. He didn’t even try to defend himself. So you lightly pushed him but it didn’t affect his rock hard body.

“Say something. Say anything you pussy.” You cried out.

He raised both his hands to run them through his hair but it made you flinched, believing he was going to hit you, so you took a step back.

Your whole body froze and your eyes went wide away. You called him pussy so it was something you should had waited from a guy. Ethan looked at you and it confused him at first but soon he got the point.

He looked at you and then at his hands. “Did you actually believe I was going to hit you?” He asked you quietly. “Do you believe I am such a man?” He yelled once again and that made you run upstairs and straight to your shared bedroom.

You threw your body on the bed and hide under the covers sobbing your heart out. Tonight supposed to be a nice and happy date night with your lovely and amazing boyfriend. But your asshole boyfriend thought it would be a right move to destroy it for you. How things turned upside down in such a small time?

You could hear Ethan’s loud steps coming through the stairs and they stopped in front of your bedroom. He slightly knocked on the door, knowing that if he burst right through it, it will only make things worse, and waited for an answer.

You contemplated either or not to tell him you come in, your feelings way too confused for your liking.

You loved him, deeply. You loved Ethan with your whole heart and it pained you the moment you were having right now with him.

You decided to not talk at all and so Ethan decides on his own and opened the door walking slowly towards the bed. “Babe…” His voice told you that he was crying too. That made your chest tighten.

Your body could be seen through the covers so Ethan stood beside the bed on your aide and bent down. “I know you are hearing me and I want you to hear me carefully.” you felt his hands on top of your body.

You chocked out a cry and shook your body a bit. “I want to apologize. I want to tell you how sorry I am for not believing you right away and how sorry I am for being so n jealous all the time.”

You threw the covers from your body so you could see his face. His eyes were red from crying and the tears were running down his rosy cheeks. “Ethan, you don’t understand. I don’t care that you are jealous. I am mad that you don’t trust me when I say that I only love you.”

His hand went to your cheek and he smiled a small smile. “I know and I am deeply sorry. It just that when I see that guy near you it makes me things how good he is and how a piece of trash I am opposite him.”

“Hey, don’t ever say something like this for you. Ethan, you are the best even thing that ever happened to my whole life. If I didn’t believe that I wouldn’t be here, with you now. I wouldn’t be in pain because the love of my life doesn’t believe me.”

“You really believe that of me?” He had a questioning look on his eyes.

“Of course I do, silly. And I want to apologize for calling you pussy.” Ethan chuckled and then smiled.

“I am. I love you, baby. You are the best thing that happened to me too.”

He leaned down to kiss your lips. The kiss was so passionate and full of love that it made the both of convince of the other’s love.

“I love you too E.”

Your foreheads were touching and you were looking at each other eyes.

“Good, now that I know that you love and you are in love with me I can do what I had planned to do tonight.” Ethan said and it made you confused.

What did he mean?

You watched as hell grabbed something from his pocket and I made you gasped right away.

There on his hands was a small red velvet box. “Y/N, I know that I am a jealous piece of shit that makes so many mistakes but I only do what I am doing because I am so madly in love with you that the thought of losing you makes me go crazy. I can’t see my future without you. Everywhere I look I see you and only you. I want to be with you till my last breath. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want you to be the person I am going to spent the rest of life. Because, you, my beautiful princess, are the best ever person that had ever walk on this earth. I love you so much Y/N Y/L/N. So do you want to marry me?”

He opened the box revealing the glorious piece of ring. The big diamond shaped in a heart was shining and it had a small ‘E’ shaped on top of it.

You nodded your head repeatedly and a wide smile broke on your lips.

“Of course. yes, Ethan. Yes! I want to marry you Ethan. Million times yes.” You screamed at the top of your lungs and hugged him tightly kissing his face hundred times.

Ethan slipped the ring on your finger and kissed your lips again. “Thank you, Y/N, I love you so much.”

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan au #ethan dolan edit #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan edit #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #iheartgrayson #I

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green-eyeddragonfanfiction · 7 years

Text

Valentine’s Day Countdown: Day 12

Valentine’s Day Countdown Collection

Day 12 of my Valentine’s Day Fanfic Countdown.

Without any further ado, here’s the request that made today’s cut:

1) Bucky x Reader (Winter’s War)

creideamhgradochas said to green-eyeddragonfanfiction: Hi lovely! For the Valentine's Day thing...I was gonna ask for 40's Bucky. But then I realized maybe you could do like a deleted scene from Winter's War? Where Bucky and the reader (me) are just being domestic? Fluffy and/or smutty. I basically just want my little 40's baby to be happy while he still can, and I love your writing so much! 💕

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Winter’s War) Warnings: Swearing Word Count: ~1,996 A/N: This is 100% canon to WW’s storyline. Also, colors suck. It’s dark red-purple. Plum. Wine. Boisonberry. W/e.

February 14th, 1944 - France

You wished there wasn’t a war going on. You were in France, just a few miles away from Paris- the city of love- on Valentine’s Day, and yet you were stuck drafting battle plans and forging weapons. You couldn’t even spend the day with Bucky. He was off with Steve and the guys doing reconnaissance.

As soon as you were done kicking Hydra’s ass back into hell, you were going to celebrate by going to a fancy restaurant with Bucky and eating the best food money could buy. You were rich, after all. Maybe not as rich as Howard, but rich enough to spoil yourself on just about anything. You hadn’t told Bucky, worried that he’d treat you differently after. It was silly, but you’d only been going steady for a few months. There were things about him you still didn’t know, and that dark voice in the back of your mind told you not to trust him with that information yet.

A knock on the door to your tiny workshop in the basement startled you so badly you swore and dropped the gun you’d been working on, wincing as you expected it to go off and blow a hole through you. But it didn’t, and you relaxed after a moment and glared at it. “Stupid piece of crap,” you muttered bitterly. “Who is it?” you asked, hand traveling to the pistol on your thigh just in case the person at your door wasn’t a friendly.

“It’s me, (Y/N),” came Steve’s voice from the other side of the door. You leapt up from your seat and hobbled to the door (your right leg had fallen asleep you’d been sitting so long). If Steve was back, that meant Bucky was, too. You opened the door, huge smile on your face faltering when it was only Steve standing there. Immediately, your blood pressure skyrocketed as you jumped (feet-first) to the worst conclusion. “Bucky-”

“Is fine,” Steve said placatingly. Your heartbeat immediately slowed a bit, but now you were confused.

“What’s goin’ on, Steve?” you asked, eyebrow cocked in confusion.

Dum Dum appeared beside Steve, long garment bag in-hand. “Get cleaned up and put this on,” Dum Dum said mysteriously as he held the bag out to you. You took it, confusion growing by the second.

“Wha-”

James poked his head in the doorway. “You have twenty minutes. I suggest you hurry.”

When you didn’t move, James walked into the room and physically shoved you towards the stairs. “Okay, okay. Alright! I get it!” you said. James stopped pushing and you gave them all withering looks before climbing up the steps.

You arrived in your room a moment later and threw the garment bag down onto the bed unceremoniously. You didn’t have time to shower, but you weren’t very dirty. It was mostly your hands. A quick scrub in the sink and you were passably clean. You walked back to your room and unzipped the bag slowly, eyes widening in surprise at its contents. A beautiful plum colored dress stared up at you, and you carefully pulled it out of the bag, its soft fabric flowing smoothly between your fingers as they danced over the pleats and the huge bow around the waist. Its medium length sleeves would be nice against the February chill, and the fabric was thick enough to afford you some barrier from the ghastly wind.

A gentle knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts. “Ten minutes,” you heard James say from the other side of the door.

You swore under your breath and quickly stripped out of your disgusting work clothes and shrugged the dress on with only a little difficulty. You ran from your room to the bathroom barefoot, tiny makeup purse clutched tightly in your hand. It had been a gift from Peggy and you hadn’t had an occasion to use it... until now.

You hastily painted on some eyeliner, followed by mascara and light eye shadow. You wanted to do your eyebrows, but simply didn’t have the time. You pulled out the tube of red matte lipstick and carefully rolled it on your lips, smiling with satisfaction at the final product. Peggy had chosen the perfect shade, of course, and you were- for once- thankful for her expertise in feminine areas.

You returned to your room to grab your purse and it was only once you started to make your way to the front door that you realized you’d forgotten something very important.

You were barefoot.

And you didn’t have any shoes that would match that dress. In fact, you were pretty sure your only options were slippers, ratty old heels that you hated, or combat boots.

“Ah, shit,” you whispered.

A knock at the door pulled you from your self-pitying thoughts. “Chaussures, mademoiselle?” came a voice from the other side of the door. Shoes, miss? You smiled and trotted over to the entryway, opening it to reveal Jacques standing there, a pair of plum flats in his hands. He held them out to you and you took them with a smile, admiring the adorable studded frills on the toes.

“Merci, mon ami,” you said with a smile. Thanks, my friend.

“De rien. Es-tu presque fini?“ he asked curiously. You’re welcome. Are you almost finished?

“Oui,” you said as you sat down on the edge of your bed and slipped the flats on. “Vas-tu me dire de quoi il s'agit?” you asked, giving him a side-eye. Are you going to tell me what this is all about?

Jacques pantomimed zipping his mouth closed and throwing away the key and you rolled your eyes. “Fine, be that way,” you muttered, making him chuckle. He might not have known exactly what you’d just said, but between your tone and the words he did know, he caught your meaning clearly.

“Gabe et Jim sont en bas t'attend,” he said with a mischievous smile before turning away and leaving you alone in your room. Gabe and Jim are waiting for you downstairs.

With a resigned sigh, you hefted yourself off of your bed and meandered downstairs, mind swirling as you tried to figure out what was going on. You sensed Bucky’s hand in everything, but you couldn’t place his endgame.

Sure enough, Jim and Gabe were waiting in the entryway, looking bored and bundled up against the cold outside. When they spotted you, though, their expressions brightened considerably.

“Ready?” Gabe asked with a smile.

“Don’t suppose you’ll tell me what I should be ready for?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“No can do,” Jim said with a smirk.

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, alright. I’m ready.”

Gabe opened the door, revealing the most beautiful, sleek 1930 black and red roadster convertible you’d ever seen. The top was up, thankfully, but even in the quickly retreating daylight, it shone like diamonds. This car was obviously loved.

“Wh-What on earth...” you murmured, walking up to it in a daze, freezing just before you touched it.

You heard Gabe open the door next to you and you stared between it and him uncomprehendingly. Gabe rolled his eyes. “C’mon, just get in,” he said with a smile as Jim hopped in the driver’s seat. You nodded dumbly and clambered in the passenger seat. Gabe shut the door securely and gave Jim a wave.

And just like that, you were off to who-knew-where.

As it turned out, who-knew-where was into town. Faces followed your car as you passed through the narrow streets, onlookers curious as to who owned such a nice car in the middle of a war. You wondered that, too, but your curiosity was focused on your mystery destination.

Jim eventually stopped the car in front of a nondescript line of stores. You raised your eyebrow as you studied the store fronts, trying to discern the grand scheme.

“Over here,” Jim said, pointing to an alley. You looked from it to him, eyebrow raised skeptically. He rolled his eyes. “Just go,” he said, gesturing down the alley.

With a shrug you did as he said. You turned the corner and froze, shocked at the sight before you.

It was beautiful. Many strings of lights hung in a canopy between the buildings. Rose petals littered the street, leading towards a single table nestled under the lights. Your eyes fell to Bucky, who was dressed to the nines. He had a black suit on, a navy polka dot tie accentuating the blue of his eyes well. He looked devastatingly handsome with his hair slicked back and his facial hair trimmed down to nothing. The moment he saw you his eyes lit up, huge smile creeping onto his face.

“Right on time, Doll,” he murmured, snapping you out of your daze. He walked over to you and extended his hand and you took it, wide-eyed. “You look absolutely stunning.”

“Bucky, what is all this?” you asked, gaze flicking around the romantic hideaway.

“I wanted to surprise you for Valentine’s Day,” he said as he pulled out one of the chairs at the table and gestured for you to sit.

You gaped in shock for a moment before snapping your mouth shut. “You did all this... for me?” you asked, bewildered as you sat. He scooted your chair in and went to sit in his own seat across from you, nodding as he went.

“For you. For us. I wanted today to be special. It’s out first Valentine’s Day together, after all,” he said with a smile as he sat.

“Settin’ the bar pretty high,” you said with a small smile.

He smirked and your heart fluttered in your chest. “I’m confident in my abilities to make every year memorable.”

You laughed at that. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. You could do anything you set your mind to.”

You were interrupted by a man you didn’t recognize, though he was clearly a waiter judging by his attire and the menus clutched in his hand.

“Bonsoir, voulez-vous regarder le menu des vins, monsieur?” the man said as he handed you your menus. Good evening, would you like to look at the wine menu, sir?

“Oui, monsieur,” Bucky said easily. Yes sir. It appeared living with Jacques and staying in France had rubbed off on him.

The man handed Bucky a second smaller menu and Bucky perused it, slight frown in his brow the only indication you had of how out of his depth he was.

“If I may? I’m quite particular about my wine,” you said with a smile, trying to come to Bucky’s rescue without making him uncomfortable.

“You like Bordeaux, right?” he asked, eyeing you over the menu. Even though you couldn’t see his mouth, you could tell he was smirking at your expression. Just how did he know that?

“Cet un, s’il vous plait,” Bucky said, pointing to a wine on the menu that you couldn’t see. This one, please.

“Oui, monsieur,” the waiter said with a secret smile as he took the menu back.

Once the waiter departed you looked to Bucky, lopsided smile on your face. “You know my favorite wine?”

Bucky smiled and ducked his head almost sheepishly before nodding. “You and Jacques talked about it. I overheard,” he explained.

You frowned. You hadn’t talked to Jacques about wine in... at least a month. In fact, you were pretty sure the last time you were talking to him about it was on the march out of Austria. “That was months ago, Buck.”

Bucky shrugged and sent a heart-breakingly sweet smile your way. “S’pose I just like listening to you, I guess,” he mused.

A shy, pleased smile settled on your face. “This-” you gestured to the area around you, “-is perfect. Thank you,” you whispered, trying to blink back the tears. No one had done so much for you before.

Bucky’s smile was blinding. “Happy Valentine’s Day, (Y/N).”

You smiled back, eyes dancing with happiness. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Buck.”

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faintblueivy · 7 years

Text

Is she beautiful? A Borusara story

Chapter - 1

I finally had time to post the text version of this story here, on Tumblr. Previously, I had posted links of ffnet and ao3 of the first two chapters of this story so might have already read it.

***

Chapter - 1

Admirers of Uchiha Sarada

Boruto groaned in annoyance, forcing Mitsuki to steal a sideways glance at him.

It was supposed to be an ordinary get together of their entire class. Even now when their academy days were over, they still arranged such events every now and then to stay in touch with everyone. But the girls of their class were not here yet so they were allowed to talk about the boy stuff. They were supposed to talk about the upcoming Chunin exams, and also about the previous one which ended in a catastrophic way. They were supposed to talk about their opponents and their jutsus. They were supposed to talk about new video games and movies.

But they were currently talking about the one thing that they were not supposed to talk, or more likely, the one topic that made him extremely uncomfortable. And this is not the first time they were talking of this!

The topic of the current heated discussion among them was-

Girls.

Or more specifically, Uchiha Sarada.

It had all started with an innocent praise from Denki.

“Oh! Did you guys see it? When Sarada-san defeated her opponent with a single punch?”

“Yeah. I’m have to agree that she’s quite amazing with her fists.” Surprisingly, Iwabee was the first person to agree with him.

Boruto smirked. The girl was a lot better than only her fists and shurikens. They have no idea. But the smirk was wiped off his face when someone up from the crowd spoke up, Boruto noticed that it was Renga-kun, about her.

“She is good. But I wonder if I am the only one who thinks that she’s gotten much prettier than before? Like even the genins from other villages were talking about her and some boys were even checking her out.”

Boruto almost blanched. Hearing that boys were checking her out made him really want to punch something for some reason he was not able to figure out. An unexplainable anger fogged his senses and the weird sensation only increased when someone exclaimed from the group.

“No dude! You are not the only one who thinks so! She’s cute and is getting even more lovely by each passing day. I would really give anything to go on date with her.”

His fists clenched tightly on his sides.

Stupid brats! Don’t they understand that she does not have time for such silly stuff? She’s going to be the future Hokage for God’s sake. And Hokages don’t have enough time to go on stupid dates!

He stuffed his hands inside his pockets and looked to the other side in annoyance, trying his hardest to block out the conversation going on, when suddenly he was dragged into it.

"Hey! Hey! Boruto-kun! You have known Sarada-san for the longest time, right?”

"Yeah…so, what about it?”

"Do you think too that she has gotten even more beautiful than before?”

Suddenly all eyes were on him waiting for an answer as if they were expecting him to give permission to hold something that was only in his possession. Truthfully speaking, he found it weird and of course, the question was even weirder.

Is Sarada beautiful?

Nah! She’s just a peculiar girl who wears glasses and always finds something to pester me about! She is not beautiful.

He almost opened his mouth to answer the question but was startled when an image of a smiling Sarada flashed into his mind. His breath hitched. A genuinely smiling Sarada was like something akin to finding a diamond.

Rare but breathtaking.

Even he could not deny that her smile was…entrancing?

Because when she smiles, to look away from her becomes the hardest thing to do at that moment.

And which is why she, certainly, she cannot be called ugly too!

Boruto didn’t know how to answer their question. He was struck in a dilemma. But another thought occurred to him, halting him and his opinions regarding his childhood friend.

But did it matter? If she was beautiful or not? Because she was still the same Sarada he had known his entire life.

The one who scolded him for the tiniest thing but also the one to patch him up if he ever got hurt. The one who had full faith in him and his abilities but never hesitates to rush to his aid if ever needed. The one who could say harsh words to him in the face but also the one who could read him like an open book and make him feel better with a few words.

And of course, one of the only who didn’t ever see him just as a Hokage’s son but as Uzumaki Boruto.

Overwhelmed by the thoughts and emotions in his head, Boruto decides to take a neutral route.

She is neither beautiful nor ugly. She is still the same. Will always be.

“Sarada? I don’t know guys? She looks the same to me…Hm…the only difference is that she has just gotten taller, I suppose?”

“Are you serious? You need glasses, man!”

Boruto narrowed his eyes. “I do not!”

“Hey guys. If Boruto-kun doesn’t like Sarada-chan then that means that she is available! I mean we can ask her for dates!”

Wait…what is that supposed to mean?

Excited whispers increased, some louder than the others, every one discussing about how they’ll woo Sarada, the sound of which grated on Boruto’s nerves. His ire was rising with each passing second and when he couldn’t take it anymore, he finally raised his voice-

“Don’t bother yourself, guys. Sarada will not go out with you people at all.”

“Eh…why?” Several voices spoke in unison.

Boruto smirked. “You said it yourself. I know her. I’ve known her for almost our entire lives. I know her well enough to be almost sure that you people don’t stand a chance. And anyway, when she has something in her mind then it becomes almost impossible to make her loose her focus. That is why she is not interested, it simply would be a waste of your efforts and time.”

I can’t believe it. These idiots really think that buying her some flowers and chocolates will make her fall in love with them. As if. It might work on ordinary girls but she is nothing like one.

I mean which normal girl of their age would spend her entire free day cooped up in a library? Which normal girl of their age would spend hours talking about and practicing new Jutsus and read history books rather than going out on shopping?

She is weird. And has been for as long as he can remember. But he is sort of glad about that?

Suddenly, one among the group – Sarada’s greatest admirer – moved forward as if to confront Boruto.

"Hey! Who are you to decide if we don’t stand a chance for Sarada-chan or not?”

“Who am I? I’m her teammate, her childhood friend and her…”

Boruto found himself at a loss of words. Was being her team mate and friend qualified him enough to decide the boys she should go out with? But…he knows, he knows that she will hate to have these lovesick puppies follow her around. It will definitely make her uncomfortable and he didn’t want that to happen!

“You are her…?” the boy in front of him taunted, smirking superiorly.

Boruto almost punched him in the face but somehow managed to still his body with great effort. But then, he knew what he wanted to say.

“I am her protector!” He declared, his tone dripping with conviction. He was not backing down from this! She is his teammate and his friend and he will protect her, whether it be from a God, or a horde of smitten male colleagues .

All of the people present there looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. Even the big guy – his opponent – looked unsure. Mitsuki, Shikadai, Inojin, Denki and Iwabee looked at him in shock, some displaying the emotion more than the others. Boruto found his smirk getting wider. He was proud of himself to come up with such a tongue-tying answer.

You asked for it! Hehe!

But before the situation could escalate, Mitsuki, who was standing at the railing of the over bridge they currently occupied, said pointing to a group of girls approaching them.

“They’re here.”

And of course, there they were, the girls of their class, laughing and talking and being cheerful after a hard day of working for the repairs of the village, caused by the attack of Momoshiki and his follower.

As they reached them, both the groups mingled into one, the sounds of the exchanged greetings filling the air around them when someone spoke-

“Class rep! Where is Sarada-san?”

“E-eh? She is n-not here?” Sumire asked, her eyes wide and her stance making her worry visible over the absence of her friend. “Chocho-chan? Was n-not Sarada-chan with you a m-moment ago?”

The amber eyed girl stuffed her mouth with a handful of potato chips and replied-

“Yeah! She was beside me a moment ago! I don’t know where did she disappear to?”

Boruto frowned.

“Looks like your condition has worsened. You are not even aware of your friend’s presence anymore. I propose that we immediately take you to Sakura-san.” Mitsuki retaliated Chocho’s nonchalant reply with his own dry voice.

“Look! She’s there!” It was Iwabee who pointed out a figure down below the bridge. And certainly, he cannot miss Sarada even in crowd filled street. Her back was towards them, her shirt proudly showing off the Uchiwa fan. The symbol she inherited from her father.

She was kneeling in front of a crying kid, trying her best to pacify him and then stood offering her hand to take, which the child did, although with an unsure look on his face.

Boruto deduced that the kid must have been separated from his parents. It was not a rare occurrence. Sometimes, even he had to help such children. Sarada turned her head here and there, her onyx eyes scanning crowd as if trying to pinpoint a person and soon enough, they found her eyes pinning on a frantic looking woman who was talking to a police officer with wild gestures. She immediately lifted the child up in her arms and pointed out the woman. It took a few seconds but the child squealed in delight and nodded his head.

As soon as she placed the kid down, he dragged her to the direction where he assumed his mother was. And Boruto found a soft warmth blossoming into his chest. Everyone says that he was good in making friends but he believes that Sarada is the one who’s best at solving people’s problems. He found that quality admirable.

There was teary reunion between the mother and child and he almost laughed at the discomfort Sarada showed when the woman wrapped her in her arms as a thankful gesture of gratitude for finding her son and bringing him back to her.

And in a few moments, a confused Sarada was left staring at the waving mother-son duo as they exited the scene with a large bag of candies in her hands.

Immediately, Mitsuki stretched out his arm long enough to reach Sarada and tapped her on the shoulder. She grinned and grabbed his offered hand as he easily pulled her on to the bridge, landing her straight in front of Boruto.

Nightly onyx orbs clashed against the sky blue ones.

Before Boruto could utter a single syllable, she averted her eyes and moved past him.

He felt a sharp sting of pain at her gesture but bit back his tongue.

What are you crying for? A mocking voice taunted him from somewhere in the back of his mind.

He turned his head to gaze at her, the pain increasing tenfold, thanks to that voice inside his head which simply reminded him of what he had done to receive this silent treatment from her.

You deserve this. You know that, don’t you? You deserve this for breaking her trust.

***

The links for ffnet and ao3 are here.

And my other stories can be found here.

#borusara #borusarafics #boruto uzumaki #sarada uchiha #mitsuki #new team 7 #is she beautiful #my fanfiction #boruto x sarada #boruto and sarada #adi writes

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