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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Begin Again (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Inspo: Begin Again by Adam Melchor

Summary: Dating apps never pair you with the right people. Until you come across the profile of a handsome, pancake loving FBI agent named Marcus.

W/C: 4.8k

Warnings: lots of talk of food, language, late night deep conversations, some sadness at the end but nothing intense? reader has a pet cat, is that worth a warning? idk

A/N: HI GUYS this is my first full length Marcus Pike fic! I really hope you like it!! thank you so much to @theteddylupinexperience and @sanchosammy for being my best editors and proofreaders and idea givers!!!

note: PLS listen to the song before/after/while reading! it’s one of my favs and it really goes along with the story

Over the course of your adult years, you’ve become convinced that dating apps are complete and utter bullshit. The algorithms never work right, never pair you or any of your friends with anyone worth seeing in person. Maybe that’s just the problem; maybe it’s not the apps but the people. Whatever the answer is, whatever reason you’ve never found success in the endless swiping, you’re through with it.

That was before last week. The rainy Tuesday night left you in your apartment, alone, to succumb to the cold spring dreariness. Over a cup of hot tea, you’d downloaded the app again. Might as well try, right? You have nothing to lose. If worst comes to worst, catfishing an annoying guy is always a blast. The good news is that this app requires you as the woman to make the first move. That’s kind of a downside- you never know how to start conversations- but at least you can’t get unsolicited dick pics right off the bats. Life is full of tradeoffs, you suppose.

You begin again. The app becomes your favorite pastime. Bored at work or home? Dating app it is. Left. Left. Left. Boring man after boring man. One labeled himself super-straight: absolutely fucking not. One holding a fish: nope. A man who describes himself as a gym rat: not your type. It’s a boring way to spend your lunch break, you’re aware, but the entertainment value is fun if nothing else. There are a lot of strange men out there.

After a few days, your luck seems to turn around as the photo of a man with brown hair and warm brown eyes pops up on your screen. He has a scruffy beard and wavy hair, and the way his smile tugs at the corner of his lips makes your heart flutter. He’s really cute, you have to admit. You read the bio next.

Marcus, 35

❗️ Washington, D.C.

Got forced into making this, but optimistic. Lover of art, dogs, and time to relax. Always down for breakfast for dinner and cuddling. Looking for someone with a sense of independence, love of travel, and a sleep schedule equally fucked up as mine. Must love pancakes.

Must love pancakes. That’s absolutely adorable. You immediately think of your cat, named Pancake, and you laugh and swipe right, hoping the man already thought the same of you. Your eyes widen with excitement and you almost laugh out loud from your giddy state when you see the little logo indicating it’s a match.

The first message you send him has to be perfect. You ponder your options for a minute, frowning and furrowing your brow as you think. You don’t want to come on too strong; you’re not trying to sound like you want a hookup. A simple one-word greeting wouldn’t be enough.

You could comment on something from his bio, you realize as you read it again and again. Maybe ask him about his dog? No, that’s too awkward. You want it to be about him, something that can draw him in. Talk about traveling? No, you don’t want to sound like you’re bragging about the places you’ve gone in your life.

Pancakes. Pancakes are good. You love pancakes. You think for a second more, debating what to say, before inspiration strikes and you send off the message before you can stop yourself.

Marcus Pike has essentially felt the same as you. He’s a somewhat charming man. He’s had his fair share of relationships, but they never quite work out. His ex-wife, now long gone and blocked from his phone, was an absolute failure of a relationship. He’d gotten close to what felt like true love with Teresa, another FBI agent, but she flaked at the last second.

Maybe the constant here was that he met them in person. When Marcus falls, he falls hard and fast, down an endless spiral of emotions with no escape. Maybe if he met someone online, it would be different. His best friends had all encouraged it, and on a night out not long after Teresa left him, Pike set up his own profile. He liked that the app didn’t require him to make the first move. It’s refreshing.

Marcus had seen your profile hours ago, on a mindless phone break from his work. He’d swiped right too, stunned by your smile and the lovelines you radiated even through the phone. He crossed his fingers for a good part of the day, hoping you’d swipe right on him too.

His day is busy, leaving him no time to fiddle with his phone and distract himself. He eats in the cafeteria, checking up on his phone. After lunch, he’s walking back to his office when his heart flutters as he sees the dating app indicates he’s had a match. He looks at it and swallows hard before stopping, moving to the side of the hallway to allow others to pass. He’s breathing hard, and his heart speeds up when he sees that you are the one that matched with him.

He knows how this app works. He has to wait now, to let you make the first move. He can’t even write a message until you send one. So he pockets his phone again and continues on his walk.

He’s determined on his walk, rushing back to his desk so he can sit and be thoroughly enthralled in waiting for or receiving your response. His phone buzzes several times with notifications, one of which he prays is you. When he finally sits, he opens the app ceremoniously and has to hold back a genuine laugh when he sees your first message.

Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus shoots back a text nearly immediately. Sorry, what?

Your bio. “Must love pancakes”. Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus is absolutely beaming as he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs. Blueberry. Always. I hope that’s the right answer :)

Unfortunately, it’s not, but you’re cute so I’ll let it slide

You called him cute. It makes Marcus’s heart flutter. Come on. There’s nothing like the warm blueberry popping in your mouth.

There is. It’s when the chocolate chips are all melty and creamy.

God, Marcus is already painfully into you. You know what… at least you love pancakes. I’ll let it slide. You got a favorite place?

Anywhere I can get ‘em. You seem like quite the connoisseur, do you have one place in mind?

Jane slams down a stack of files on Marcus’s desk. “Paperwork overflow, Pike. Can you get these done tonight?”

Marcus is the fastest in the office with paperwork, which often leads to him being the one that flies through the files in the place of the people who actually filed it. He nods. What else is there to do? “Sure.”

Jane claps him on the shoulder and wanders off. Marcus watches him in slight annoyance. The best place in D.C. is definitely Sandy’s. Hey I gotta go, text ya later?

I’d love that :)

It didn’t take long for your texting to move from the dating app to actual texting. It happened within the same day, in fact.

Marcus messaged you some hours after the initial conversation. Your phone buzzed while you were doing yoga in your apartment, your cat curled into a ball beneath your stomach as you held a downward dog. You nearly collapsed on top of Pancake as you fumbled to sit cross-legged on the end of your yoga mat.

The message from Marcus is bright on the top of your screen. Hi. Sorry that took so long. Work stuff.

Smiling, you take a swig from your water bottle and lean back against your couch. Not a problem. Understandable. What do you do for a living? It’s a loaded question in D.C.; they could range anywhere from politicians to their rich sons to artists and athletes.

I work for the FBI, actually.

Your eyes light up in excitement. That’s the coolest shit I’ve heard. What do you do? Are you an agent?

The man’s responses don’t take long at all. He must be waiting in the chat to respond. The idea makes your heart flutter. Yep, I’m an agent. I work in international art crimes.

You certainly didn’t expect that for an answer. Wow, okay, that’s even cooler than I thought. I was about to call you Agent Pancake but I think my girl would be disheartened...

Snapping a photo of the way Pancake is nuzzling into your side, meowing for snuggles, you have to laugh as you send the photo his way. Funny you love pancakes so much. This little muppet is named Pancake.

Marcus responds with a barrage of heart-eyes emojis, which makes you laugh aloud and scoop Pancake into your lap, stroking her strawberry-blonde fluff. She’s an absolute angel. Like her mother, I’m presuming.

Your cheeks flood with warmth and you can feel the tips of your ears turning hot too. You’ve never even met me, Agent…? You trail off the text, asking for his last name.

Pike.

Agent Marcus Pike. What a nice sounding name. It sounds official and strong and you really like it. Cute last name. Might steal it from ya someday ;)

You don’t normally flirt this shamelessly, but he’s so goddamn cute and funny. You cross your fingers behind your back that this isn’t just a facade, that this is Marcus himself texting like he would to anyone else. You got a phone number?

As you laugh, Pancake paws at your chest to grab your attention, nails nearly digging into the stretchy fabric of your yoga tank top. “Watch it,” you scold her softly and remove her paw from your chest, picking her up and giving her a kiss on the head. Sure do. You want it?

Yes please.

You send your number his way and moments later, your phone pings with a text from an unlabeled number.

Maybe: Pike: hey, it’s Pike :)

You: hey… dammit, I really want to call you Agent Pancakes, but I think my fluffy little heathen would be offended. I don’t know what to save you in my phone as...

Agent Pancakes: Save me as whatever, I suppose. Not my problem, right?

The texts became more frequent. Over the course of three weeks, you’d stay up late talking like teenagers, knowing you need to go to bed but unable to bring yourself to do it.

You learned that his middle name was Mauricio, that his mother wanted him to have at least something a little more Latino in his name. You told him the story of how you’d adopted Pancake as a kitten from a shelter and she woke you up one morning with her claws entwined in a snarl of your hair. He told you about his ex-wife and ex-fiancée, Teresa, and you responded that he deserved something better than that. You can already tell that he’s a good man.

At the end of three weeks, you shot Marcus a text. Things seemed to be going pretty well.

You: Hey, you want to do a video call sometime soon?

Agent Pancakes: I’d love that! I’m free tonight if you are.

You: Always free. Shouldn’t you know that?? Doesn’t the FBI spy on us through our phones and whatever?

Agent Pancakes: well, I do work in art crimes. Even if we did, it would be a totally different thing

You: Good.

An hour later, you fidget with your hands as you sit on your couch, the laptop propped up across from you and ringing for a video chat. Marcus’s profile picture bobs on the screen as you wait for him to pick up.

Marcus’s face and apartment fills your screen, and you automatically grin. “Hi,” you giggle and wave, absolutely enraptured by how cute his real smile is, not the forced one in the photos.

“Hey. Nice to kind of-finally meet you,” he tells you and waves back. The wall of his apartment is nothing exciting, but his facial expressions already have you falling. Those big brown eyes compliment natural but ridiculously pink lips, and his brown hair is neatly done. It looks like he’s wearing a tie and a dress shirt; probably his work gear, you suppose.

“You too!” You tell him, unable to stop smiling. “You shaved.”

Marcus’s heart jumps out of his chest when he sees you ringing him. He barely has time to flop on the couch and turn it on, propping up the camera across from him.

God, you’re so gorgeous. Your giggle is infectious, making Marcus laugh softly at god knows what. Your grin is equally as contagious, making him smile back. He rubs his jaw in response. “Yeah, yeah. I tend to keep it clean there. Stubble takes too much maintenance, and I have this little patch where it never quite grows,” he tells you as he juts his chin to the camera, touching the spot where his beard can’t grow.

“I like it either way,” you assure him, shrugging a little. “How was your day, Agent Pancakes?” Your voice is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, even with the granulated audio over this shitty app. Agent Pancakes makes his heart flutter. “No, not you!” You groan as Pancake climbs onto your lap. “Hi. Your twin wants to say hi.”

Marcus’s smile widens. “Oh my god, hello cutie pie,” he chuckles, launching into baby talk. “What a pretty girl. You make a good Pancake.”

You smile and rub her fur, grinning. “She’s my baby,” you chuckle and set her aside. “Yeah. I’m busy. Leave me alone.” Pancake meows in protest. “Shut up, I’m on a date,” you whine.

Marcus’s ears perk up. “This is a date?”

Your eyes widen as you turn back to him. “I… yeah?” You ask, wincing a little.

He grins back at you. “I like it. And I’m really in love with the idea of seeing your face when you talk.”

“I like your voice,” you flirt back, but you mean it. “It’s so pretty. Do you sing?” You ask mindlessly, studying the way his brow furrows and his eyes convey exactly what he’s thinking.

He chuckles softly. “I used to. I haven’t in a long long time.”

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime.”

When he shakes his head, his neatly gelled hair tries to break free. A strand does, falling in his face. “You don’t wanna hear it, I promise.” He removes his tie, and you can’t help but watch the movement. It’s incredibly sexy.

A mischievous smile makes you bite the inside of your cheek. “No, I really do, I really think I do.”

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Only if you try the pancakes at Sandy’s sometime. I promise you, they’re the best pancakes in the District. I’ve never had the chocolate chip pancakes, but if they’re anywhere near as good as the blueberry, they’re fantastic. And they’re open 24 hours. I go there a lot for late night case work.”

You smile at that, getting cozy on your couch and hugging your blanket. “That does sound nice. I love a good all day breakfast,” you say with raised eyebrows, the teasing in your voice. “Okay, human Pancakes. How was your day?” You ask him again, intent on hearing his answer. Not only is his job fascinating, but he’s adorable when he explains things.

Marcus frowns, and that makes you instinctively frown too. “Well, it’s been good. We’re tracking a huge smuggling ring right now, but since we’ve pinpointed a stock house for them, I might have to travel for a while.”

You frown. You’d been hoping you could have a real date soon, at least. “How long is a while?” You ask him curiously, sipping from your water bottle that sits next to you.

“Couple weeks. No less than a month, probably. I’d… well, I might have to go undercover, which means we couldn’t talk for a while.” His eyes are apologetic, showing that he hates this news as much as you do. “And… I’d leave maybe tomorrow or the day after.”

Your heart sinks. “So soon,” you say with a sad smile, a desperate and lonely chuckle. “Well, if you want to come home to me, I’ll be here.”

Marcus’s smile perks up just slightly. “You would be the best thing in the world to come home to. And I’ll have the scruff back by then.”

“Yes!” You exclaim and laugh, pumping a fist in the air. “I think you’re really cute anyway, but I really love the scruff,” you shrug shyly.

“Maybe I’ll grow it out just for you.”

The adrenaline from his first technical-date with you prevents Marcus from sleeping. The call lasted hours, the two of you covering almost everything important in your lives. You talked about your favorite television programs and politics, your parents and your favorite pizza toppings. Talking with him was like nothing you’d ever experience, a connection you’d never thought a dating app could offer.

After several hours, during a lull in the conversation, Marcus suggested the two of you log off. It was around 11 P.M. now, and, even though Marcus has a sleep schedule like a raccoon, he figured you should sleep. He blew you a kiss through the camera, which you pretended to hold to your chest and grin at him.

But now it’s an hour later, just past midnight, and Marcus is antsy. He doesn’t sleep much anyway, but your face is running through his mind like it owns the place, and at this point, maybe you do. Marcus sits up in bed and sighs. He knows the proper remedy for this: Sandy’s. Throwing on a rare pair of jeans and a leather jacket over the white v-neck he wears, he slips on his shoes and makes his way to the tiny, 24-hour diner.

The adrenaline is coursing through your veins too. You text any of your friends that will listen, rambling about how beautiful Marcus’s face is and how wonderful it was to finally hear his voice. You pace your apartment, petting Pancake as you pass her perch on the arm of your couch. You try to do a little yoga to calm down but you can’t stop smiling. Marcus occupies too much room in your brain to try to think about anything else.

When it’s just after midnight, hunger strikes. You realize you never ate dinner, too preoccupied with talking to the handsome man to even consider microwaving something from your fridge. Talking with Marcus has instilled you with a love for pancakes, and you think to yourself that maybe Sandy’s would be worth a shot. It’s open late.

So you toss on a jacket and pick up your purse, slinging it over your shoulder and leaving your apartment. You toss the book you’ve been reading into your bag, planning to read it while you sit and eat. Pancake gives a sleepy meow of protest but you just smile and lock the door behind you.

The diner is just as small as Marcus described it to you: just a short line of booths along the windows and a smattering of tables in the middle. There’s a colorful, warm-toned tile floor that juxtaposes the warm green of the walls and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting through the air. Quiet classic swing music filling the atmosphere. You can see why he likes it: it automatically makes you smile.

You sit in one of the booths, facing away from the door, and the kind waitress takes your order: chocolate chip pancakes and an English breakfast tea. The air conditioning is blasting, making you chilly. You tighten your jacket around yourself and sip the tea when it arrives, adding cream and sugar.

Cracking open the book, you cross your legs and lose yourself in the book. The restaurant has a calming aura, and you can feel the tea warming you from the inside. It’s fitting that Marcus loves this place, you think to yourself.

When the pancakes come not long after, you take a bite and almost groan in happiness. It’s absolutely delicious: Marcus was most definitely right. Disappointingly, you have to go to the bathroom about three bites in.

Even the bathrooms are cute, you discover. When you return, someone else sits a booth away, another lone diner at this godforsaken hour of night, facing the door. You can see the back of what appears to be a man’s head, neatly trimmed brown hair and a brown leather jacket over their neck and shoulders. Sitting back down, your back to the other customer’s, you return to your book and continue to eat your chocolate chip pancakes.

The customer and waitress are talking, but you don’t pay much attention, too enraptured by your book. It’s quiet again after the man puts in his order, and you enjoy the soft jazz music that makes you tap your foot in time against the tile.

There’s a buzzing and the melodic sound of a phone’s ringtone; one of the defaults that a phone provides. Your heart skips a beat as you hear the man pick up. “Agent Pike.”

That can’t be your Agent Pike, can it? You turn and listen and realize it’s definitely him, from his voice and the way he holds himself and the stack of- of course, blueberry pancakes and a hot coffee set in front of him.

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. Let me write that down.” Marcus types something into his phone. “See you then. At the office? Good. Alright, see you.” He hangs up.

Standing, you tuck your book back in your purse and put the bag over your shoulder. With one hand, you grab your plate of pancakes, and the other grabs your tea. You set them down across from him and slide into the booth, grinning. “Huh. Agent Pancakes, here, in the middle of the night. How unusual.”

Marcus’s tired face lights up in excitement. “What?” He laughs, his eyes scanning your face. “Why are you here?”

You shrug and take a bite of his pancakes, sighing. “Had to see if they were worth the hype. I couldn’t sleep, you got me so excited.” The blueberry pancakes are absolutely fantastic, just as good if not better than the chocolate chip ones on your plate. “Damn, you were right.”

“Hey,” he laughs and pulls his plate closer to his chest. “Don’t touch my pancakes.”

You make pleading pouty eyes, frowning a little. “Can’t we share?” You tease. It already feels like you’ve known him for years, even though this is your first time seeing him in person.

Marcus sighs. “I suppose,” he says and rolls his eyes in sarcasm, pushing his plate back out so you can access it.

Marcus is beyond stunned, absolutely enraptured in how beautiful you are in person. If he thought he fell on that video call earlier, he’s now reached the very bottom of that cliff, the impact of your everything stealing the air from his lungs. God, he wants nothing more than to kiss you right now, on those lips coated in blueberry juice and maple syrup.

The two of you spend quite some time so there, just talking and continuing the conversation where it left off before. The waitress refills Marcus’s coffee twice and your tea once. “So who called you when you were sitting alone?” You ask him as you bring the white porcelain mug to your lips, sipping at the creamy tea.

He sighs. “Guy I work with, his name’s Patrick. He’s a douchebag, I can’t lie,” he says with a chuckle, and his heart flutters at the way you give a soft laugh back. “Just telling me the details. I leave in about 6 hours. I’ll be in Singapore for a couple of weeks.”

“Singapore?” You exclaim, eyes wide as your fork clanks against your plate. “You better be able to contact me.”

He shakes his head. “I told you, I’m going undercover. I can’t.” He sighs, and he dares to reach out and touch you, to reassure you that he’s there and himself that you’re real, that you’re right there. “Will you wait for me?”

Your heart melts, from an already slush-covered river to a rushing rapids. “Of course, Marcus.” It makes his heart skip a beat. You’ve called him lots of nicknames, but never his real name. Something is painfully intimate about it. “I like you a lot; why wouldn’t I?” You ask, shrugging as if it’s the simplest thing. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

When you finish your meals, Marcus picks up both tabs, despite your protesting. “Can I walk you to your place?” He asks as you both stand and adjust your jackets.

You nod and take his hand. The lights of the city are seemingly extra dim tonight, leaving the street lights to illuminate your beautiful face as the two of you stroll along. You have all the time in the world, don’t you? It’s 1:30 in the morning. You’re both already evading sleep desperately. A little more time together can’t hurt.

His hand never leaves yours, his fingers lacing through your knuckles. You chat quietly, as if you could wake the sleeping city from the peaceful blue drone of a weeknight morning into its daily splendor of horns and hordes of speedy pedestrians.

Marcus bumps your shoulder with his, making you stumble a little to the side and laugh as you look up at his gorgeous face. His face reflects the love you’re both feeling, almost giving the city around you a pink glaze of warmth from the rose-colored glasses you must have placed over his eyes.

The walk draws to an end, as you stand at the entrance to your apartment building. Marcus’s body looks so soft and inviting, and you dare to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him to your chest. “I don’t want you to go, Agent Pancakes,” you murmur into the soft skin of his neck, which is starting to get a shadow of stubble.

Marcus kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t move either, prolonging this time you have together before he can’t see you. “I don’t want to go. I’ve never wanted to stay here more than I do now, but I have to.” His arms wrap around your waist, strong and safe.

Lifting your head, you look up at him, your noses practically touching from the proximity you share. The world feels like a bubble around you two, like some impenetrable one-way material that makes it so if Marcus leaves now, he can never come back. “Well, it’s gonna be a long time, a month or two,” you say with a sad smile. “We’ll have to begin again.”

Marcus shakes his head, his brown eyes almost welling with tears. “There’s no one else I’d want to begin again with.” With that, he looks in your eyes, the question hanging there. Wait for me?

Always, you respond silently by pressing your lips to his, kissing him slowly in the orange glow of your apartment building’s entrance. He kisses back, his lips tasting of coffee and maple and blueberry, yours tasting like chocolate and tea.

You squeeze your arms tighter around him, getting on your tiptoes to be as physically close as you can to him. He has one hand on either side of your rib cage, holding you there as he kisses back with all of the passion and love he has.

It can’t last too long or he’ll never leave. He won’t be able to. He breaks away after a few moments, his lips close to yours. He presses your foreheads together, arms encircling you again. “I have to go. I have to be at the office in an hour.”

You lift your head and your brow furrows in confusion. “Then why did you take so long to walk and eat with me?” You laugh quietly.

Marcus shrugs. “Didn’t want to leave you yet,” he admits, his eyes trained on yours. He gives you one last painfully gentle kiss. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you say with a sad smile. “You’ve been my distraction lately. Whenever I’m bored, I text you.”

He sighs, the confession increasing his frown. “I’ll be in an entirely new place, without you.”

“But I’ll be here, in my same old life without you in it.”

The words punch a hole through Marcus’s heart. It’s true; he’ll have new distractions, new things to do. You’ll be here with a Marcus Pike-shaped hole in your heart. He kisses your forehead, the wheels turning in his head. “If you get a call in the next few weeks from an unknown number, be sure to answer it, okay?”

You nod and smile softly. “You need to go. Go.”

He nods and his hand squeezes yours. “I can’t wait to begin again with you.” With that, Marcus Pike, Agent Pancakes, whatever you want to call him, the man you’re highly suspecting might be your soulmate, walks off into the slightly chilly D.C. night.

taglist:

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#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike headcanons #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #begin again

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allthingskakashi · 4 years

Note

Hi! Coul a request a scenario that involves Sukea please? Like the reader has a crush on Kakashi and he finds out because her friends tease her in front of sukea and then Kakashi asks her on a date idk if I’m making a point, or can just do anything you wish that involves him pleasee? Thank you ♥️

Okay first of all, that's a really innovative idea!! I loved it. Secondly, I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this but ahh well here it is now and i really hope you like it ❤️

• Serendipity •

[Kakashi x Reader] || 3k words

a/n : ugh tbh I've been running a little low on creativity lately which is why i hadn't posted anything for like a week but i also didn't wanna go without writing anything so well... I tried. 😩

You sit in the small dumpling restaurant with your friends Kurenai and Anko. Beyond you, the falling dusk envelopes your village in mystical hues of blue and red. It’s Friday, which means the weekend has rolled in after a long and tiresome week. The thought of being off duty for the next two days lifts your spirits, and you look forward to spending the time relaxing at home in your own company.

The evening is busy, streets bustling, vibrant with the hustle of villagers; some heading for a night out with friends, some returning home to spend time with family, some getting ready to go out on a date, everyone looking like they have somewhere to be, something to do.

You sigh, shoving a dumpling in your mouth.

“Why the long face?”, Anko asks between chomps.

“It’s nothing” you shrug, your tone failing to fool anyone.

There’s a soft creak as the gate to the shop opens behind you, a small gust of air whooshing in from outside. The merry chatter in the room comes to a sudden halt, to be replaced by sounds of hushed murmurs and whispers. You glance at the group of women sitting in the table ahead of you, staring at something with mouths open wide in awe. Ahead of you, Anko’s eyebrows are furrowed, a curious smile touching the corner of her lip.

You turn behind, wanting to catch a glimpse of whatever it is that has managed to elicit such a response from the entire room.

Your eyes fall upon a handsome young man, who has just now walked into the restaurant and taken a seat behind you. You feel your heart skip a beat. He’s easily one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. A mop of thick brown hair adorns his head, a tint of purple on his eyelids and stripes of the same colour running across both cheeks. His face is sharp with an angled jawline and he has on a long trench coat with a scarf around his neck. He’s also holding a camera, you notice.

Probably an outsider.

A waitress walks over to him, standing by him and twirling a curl of hair, visibly enchanted by his charms.

Someone thumps the front of your table, startling you. “Jeez y/n, get a grip!” Anko’s voice brings your attention back to your friends as you finally tear your eyes away from the mysterious man in the table behind you.

“What? I wasn’t checking him out” you sputter, unnerved.

“We didn’t say you were”, Kurenai chimes in.

You feel your face getting hot as red tinges your cheeks and you look away, avoiding your friends’ eyes.

“Hey, why don’t you go talk to him? Maybe ask him out?” Kurenai says, her eyes lighting up.

You open your mouth to say something, but Anko cuts in.

“Because she’d rather sit around pining for Kakashi and doodling his name on her diary. How long has it been now? 7 years?”

Kurenai giggles, but puts a comforting arm around your shoulder.

“Alright now, go easy on her”, she says kindly. “But she’s got a point y/n. You and Kakashi have known each other for a long time. You’ve kept your feelings to yourself for years now, I really think it’s time you go out and do something about it. Who knows, maybe he feels the same way about you. Why don’t you give it a shot?”

You let out another sigh and look at your lap. “I just don’t think it’s the right time yet.”

But that was a lie. You’d had feelings for Kakashi ever since you were a teenager. You had always been friends, but you wanted more. You loved being in his company and you had a lot of mutual respect and admiration for each other. But you could never bring yourself to just say the words to Kakashi. There were times when you almost blurted it out, and times when you felt like maybe he felt the same way about you too… but they may have been delusions, for all you knew. You didn’t know anything for certain. And that’s what stopped you from gathering up the courage to say it to him. You told yourself and your friends who knew that you would someday, when the time is right, but it was all a big fat lie. You were scared, and that was the truth, as much as you hated to admit it.

You watch Anko roll her eyes as Kurenai exhales, tilting her head.

“Y/n…It’ll never be the right time. Just do it. You’ve taken down S-rank criminals, you can handle this. Trust me, even the copy ninja can’t resist THAT” Kurenai cheers, grazing her eyes up and down over you with a suggestive smile, her voice encouraging. You chuckle, waving your hand dismissively in embarrassment.

“Look”, Anko interjects in her matter-of-fact voice. “Kakashi’s a wuss. If you wanna get it on with him, you gotta make the move. He’s even worse than you so pussy up and ask him. If I have to hear another of your lovelorn sighs one more time, I’ll go tell him myself.” She says, shoving her last dumpling in her mouth and gulping down a glass of water.

You’d been friends with Anko long enough to know not to put it past her. Besides, they were right. It HAD been very long. Perhaps you really did need to pussy up.

Ughhhhh. Why couldn’t this be easier?

“Anyway, I’m gonna go hit the bar. Any of you suckers wanna join me?” Anko asks, getting up from her chair.

“I can’t. I invited my team over for dinner tonight so I’ll get going.”, Kurenai says, collecting her purse and getting ready to leave as well.

“It’s okay, you guys go. I’ve got some things to do” you say, waving them off.

You watch your friends go out the exit and disappear along the curve of the street. Truth is, you kind of want to be alone, maybe take a walk around the village, gather your thoughts. This conversation with your friends today stirred something in you and you need time to think. You’d let things go on as they were for very long now, but it was time you took matters in your own hands.

Putting the bill down on the table, you head towards the door. Your eyes fall where the man was sitting but the seat is empty now, and you catch him ahead of you, just a few steps away, also heading towards the door. You stand close behind him, clutching your purse to your rib as he opens the door. His elbow juts out, knocking the bag out of your hand as it falls to the ground.

For a quick second you think it’s a thief and you’re almost about to strike a blow but the man crouches down quickly with an “I’m so sorry”, picking your purse up and holding it out to you.

Up close this way, you can see his eyes. There’s something familiar about them but you can’t put your finger on what it is. “Thanks” you mutter, taking the purse from him, your mind still trying to comprehend why this man you’ve never seen before feels so familiar.

“Are you a tourist? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before”, you ask, concealing the suspicion in your tone.

Your village is a small one and almost every face is familiar. Having a visitor in the village is quite unheard of and your instincts tell you that something feels off.

He clears his throat before answering. “Hi, I’m Sukea. I’m a reporter from the Land of Fire. I’m here to conduct research for an article” the man replies, almost in an automated tone but with a smile that immediately softens his features. He’s got a mole under his bottom lip, you notice.

Gosh, that’s a pretty face.

Before you have the chance to say anything else or ask more questions, he mumbles that he’s getting late for something and turns away, hurrying down the street.

You stand there, watching him go.

Weird.

But you’ve got other things to think about now, decisions to make, so you shake the thoughts of this mystery man off your head, although you can’t help mulling over why he felt so eerily familiar.

You walk down your usual route in the quieter part of the village. Walks always somehow help you clear your mind. The air has cooled down now and there’s a slight chill in the air. A sweet smell of flowers wafts through. You lose track of time walking around the entire village, over the cliff, through the forests, by the stream which shimmers under the moonlight.

It’s almost ten by the time you reach home and the walk makes your calves ache. Probably wasn’t such a good idea to go on such a long walk after injuring yourself on your last mission.

You freshen up and throw yourself down on your bed, glad for the two days of rest that awaits you.

Pulling the blanket over your head, you turn to your side and close your eyes. Kakashi’s face appears almost instantly, the images playing a montage in your head.

His smile that makes buds bloom into flowers… his laughter so pure like a young boy’s…his silver hair which sparkles in the sun, making you want to run your fingers through it… the warmth of his voice when he talks to you-- and suddenly something goes off in your brain. Like a flame igniting. Or rather, a long burning flame finally receiving emancipation. There’s a jolt through your veins and you think—Tomorrow. I’ll tell him tomorrow.

And before you have time to process the sudden thought, languor takes over your body, lulling you to sleep.

You’re up early the next morning, the jolt from last night still coursing through your veins. You’re feeling pretty confident, more than you ever have. Today’s the day you tell him.

But first, you have to head over to the Missions Desk to submit your report. You bash yourself for putting it off till now.

The day outside is beautiful, white cotton clouds floating aimlessly across the azure sky. A pleasant breeze tickles your skin in soft whispers.

You reach the main office and submit your file. The room is empty, except for the people working behind the desks. The man in front of you takes your file, checking the date of your mission and you’re sure you can see a look of judgement flash across his eyes.

You almost feel a little guilty.

“You know, all the other jounins have submitted their reports already” he mutters, not looking up from your file.

“Well actually…”

There’s a voice behind you, and you turn around at the sheepish tone of the familiar voice. Your heart instantly paces up. Kakashi. There’s a file in his hand too. You can’t help the smile that escapes.

You look at him as he comes forward, handing his file over. The man shoots him a similar glance and shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything. You can tell that this must not be the first time. Kakashi smiles sweetly at him, before turning away and looking at you.

“Y/n! Didn’t think I’d run into you here…”

Your blood pounds in your ears as you recall the resolve you made to yourself last night. You’d promised yourself you’d tell him today but right now, in this way? You weren’t ready for this. You hadn’t prepared what you were gonna say, or how you’d say it. A hundred thoughts run through your head.

Hell with my resolve. This really isn’t the right time. I can’t do this.

But on the other hand…

Your brain goes at odds with your heart as you realise you haven’t answered Kakashi yet.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice concerned.

You straighten up, composing yourself.

“Oh hey yeah, I’m fine! I’m great. What’re you upto?”

“Just got a few things I need to do”, he shrugs, walking beside you as the two of you come out of the office into the main corridor of the Hokage Mansion.

“Right. Got any missions this weekend?” you ask, stalling to give yourself time to think clearly.

“Nope. You?”

“No. You?”

“You already asked me”, he chuckles. “So uh. Where are you headed?”

Ugh. This is a disaster.

“Just the market. I… I need to buy fish for dinner”

You feel your palms getting clammy as the air starts to feels too tight. You look at Kakashi out of the corner of your eye and you notice.

He looks nervous too. He’s fidgeting with his hands and there’s something strange about him.

“Well…uh” he stutters, rubbing his neck with his hand before looking at you. “maybe you don’t.”

You look up at him, your eyes wide and face scrunched up in confusion. You’re outside the tower now, standing on the street.

“I…don’t?”

He scratches the back of his head.

“Uh…I mean…I’ve got fish.”, he stammers. There’s a very visible tint of red on his cheeks.

You’re utterly wrapped in confusion by now, and you wonder why he’s acting so strange. Unsure of where he’s getting with that, you say, “Um…That’s nice. Where do you buy fish from? I’ve heard the market by the Temple is good for seafood. I haven’t had the chance to try it out myself though.”

Mother Earth please swallow me whole.

Kakashi lets out a nervous laugh, still fidgeting around with his hands and looking everywhere but directly at you.

“Y/n what I’m saying is…maybe you don’t need to buy fish for dinner because” he looks at you from under his shaggy bangs,which fall over his eyes in the absence of his headband. The tint of his cheeks deepens. “well, because I was thinking maybe you could come over…and I could…cook dinner for the both of us...? Or um go out, whatever you’d like” he says, immediately looking away.

You’d never thought it was possible for the calm and cocky Kakashi Hatake to look this nervous. It’s quite a sight. You might have laughed at it if you weren’t just as nervous yourself.

“Like on a date?” you ask, shock evident in your tone. Your heart is battering in your chest.

This is a very, very surprising turn of events.

“Well…yes”, he breathes, barely meeting your eyes now.

You can hear your heart in your ears. And suddenly, it feels like spring has bloomed inside your heart. Not just your heart but everywhere around you. Like you’ve been transported to a meadow and there’s only flowers and rainbows and butterflies all around.

A breeze passes through, sending a few petals from nearby trees floating along the street. Strands of your hair blow into your eyes.

You sweep them away, looking up at him to see him looking at you, his eyes hopeful, waiting.

You meet his gaze with your burning eyes and smile, tucking another loose strand behind your ear.

“I’d love that” you say before looking down, your tone barely containing the ecstasy you feel within. You feel the chirp of a thousand birds singing inside your heart.

His eyes light up, mouth forming into a grin as you see the muscles on his face relaxing visibly.

Kakashi’s eyes crinkle from the smile and he says, “Well then…I’ll see you for dinner.”

He starts walking away, before turning back and calling out “Oh and yes, I do buy my fish from the market by the temple.”

And with that, he turns away grinning, disappearing with a whoosh, leaving you to stand there, still in shock and gaping after him; wondering which stars had aligned, what forces in the universe had conjoined and what twist of fate had occurred, turning your life around, making you the happiest woman in the world, in the span of just one day.

* * *

Aaand a lil bonus addition :-

It’d been around two months that you and the silver haired jounin of the Leaf had been together. Almost everyone in the village knew by now and it had been two months of pure unadulterated bliss. You fit so well together, it felt as if you’d never been apart.

Today was just another lazy afternoon, with you and Kakashi in bed, entangled in each other’s arms, neither one of you wanting to leave your little heaven on earth.

You intertwine your fingers with Kakashi’s, backing into him so you’re pressed against the warmth of his body.

“Hey, Kakashi?” you whisper.

“Hm?” he replies, sleep mangling his voice.

“I’ve always wondered. Why did you ask me out that day? You told me you’d liked me for a long time too. So… why not before? Why that day?”

He chuckles softly into your hair, pulling you closer with his arm.

“Well” he says, almost in a whisper. “I thought it was time I stopped being a wuss.”

“Huh?”

“It had been a really long time and… I thought it was time to, how do I put this, pussy up.” he says into your neck, his voice calm, but with just a tinge of amusement.

WAIT A MINUTE-

You jerk up on the bed, freeing yourself of his grip and turning to face him.

A subtle smile plays across his lips but his face is tranquil, giving nothing away.

Panic rises in you and you shake his arm vigorously. “KAKASHI! HOW-HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?”

He doesn’t stir, eyes closed tight, pretending to be sleeping.

“KAKASHI TELL ME RIGHT NOW” you continue shaking him, but it’s in vain, the man doesn’t stir.

You sigh, replaying the day from two months ago in your head, ravaging your brain for any possible hint. And just like that, it dawns upon you.

“Oh my god—That was you.” You blurt, everything suddenly clicking into place in your head. You feel like a fool for not realising sooner.

He remains unmoving, eyes closed shut. But you don’t miss the slight wrinkle of his mask as his lips upturn into a grin beneath it.

“That was you, wasn’t it??? It was! You sneaky little bastard!” you shriek, jabbing at his arm with a few pokes, but it does nothing.

“Kakashi!”

“Ssshh, I’m sleeping” he whispers in fake slumber, a smile grazing his mouth as he wraps his arm around you, pulling you back into the bed with him.

“Did you really just shush m- “ you begin in protest, but your sentence remains unfinished as he presses his mouth onto yours, catching your lips in a kiss and shutting you up before you can say more.

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vannahfanfics · 3 years

Text

Harmony of Love

Category: Romantic Fluff, Family Fluff

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Characters: Kairi, Sora

Hey, everyone! I’m back again for Day 3 of @sokaiweek, this time for the prompt “Melody”! I’m in the mood for baby lovin’ after babysitting some young-uns, so, enjoy this sweet kid fic!

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Kairi shushed as she hurried into the room, speaking over her baby’s frantic wails and sobs. She lowered the side of the crib so she could lean down and scoop up her daughter, holding her tenderly to her chest while she slowly rose up. “That’s it, that’s it,” she soothed while she patted her infant’s back. Her little hands pawed at Kairi’s nightgown, bunching the pink fabric in her chubby fingers to ground herself. Kairi bounced her up and down and twisted her body back and forth, and the baby’s loud wails finally settled into pathetic whimpers and sniffles.

“That’s it,” she hummed, pulling back to gently push her daughter’s auburn curls out of her face. “Did you have a nightmare, my love?” Of course, her daughter couldn’t reply, but her wandering gaze and watery eyes were enough of an answer. “I know, my darling, my little Hikari. The world is scary, huh?” Kairi smiled, and her baby just warbled sadly. “I know. I have them too, sometimes. Someday I’ll tell you all about it… About the adventures of your father and I.”

Hikari’s cheeks began to redden as she began to cry again, so Kairi began to tut over her pitiful cries.

“Don’t worry, my love, I’m here.” She guided Hikari’s head to rest on her shoulder, continuing to bob and swish and bounce on her way to the white rocking chair in the corner. “I’m here,” she murmured again while she sank down onto the lace-edged cushion. The wood creaked under her weight, and then the plush stuffing of the pillow relaxed to nestle her in comfort.

“That’s it,” she said again when Hikari finally quieted down, resting against her body and looking up at her with those blue, blue eyes. She’d always thought Hikari had her father’s eyes, blue like the glittering ocean surrounding their island home. Of course, Sora always turned it around on her, saying that Hikari’s eyes were like Kairi’s, the brilliant azure of the sky. Really, Hikari’s eyes were just a representation of everything else she was— their beautiful baby, their perfect union, their gorgeous harmony of love.

“Donna tokidatte, tada hitoride, unmei wasurete, iketekitanoni,” Kairi sang softly. She used her toes to begin gently rocking the chair back and forth. She stroked Hikari’s silky-soft strands of hair as she sang, smiling serenely, and her heart swelled as her daughter’s lips inched up into a smile of her own. “Totsuzen no hikari no naka megasameru, mayonakani.”

Hikari cooed happily as Kairi leaned in to nuzzle her daughter’s nose with her own while she finished the verse. Kairi had known many joys in her life, but Hikari’s bubbly laughter was perhaps one of the greatest. Hikari’s cheek was as smooth as velvet as Kairi stroked it gently with her finger, appreciating the rosy hue of life flooding the skin. Hikari’s eyes gleamed as she watched her mother sing to her in a soft voice, those brilliant blues full of admiration and trust and reverence. It was a look Kairi would never tire of.

“Shizukani, deguchini tatte, kurayami ni hikari wo ute,” she continued, fingers skipping down from her daughter’s face to her little chest, where she tickled her. Hikari squealed before giggling loudly, prompting Kairi to laugh too because those sweet little laughs were just so infectious. She then rubbed Hikari’s belly to settle her back down, continuing to sing, “Imadoki yakusoku nante, fuan ni saseru dakekana, negai wo kuchi ni shitaidake sagasou kunimo, shoukai suruyo kitto umaku ikuyo…”

Finally, Hikari’s eyes began to drift shut. Her breathing evened out even as she fought to stay awake, but Kairi’s melody never failed to lull her daughter back into a restful sleep. Kairi leaned down to kiss her forehead, then sang against her skin, “Donna tokidatte, zutto futaride, donna tokidatte, soba ni irukara kimi to iu hikari ga watashi wo mitsukeru, mayonakani…”

Her voice drifted off into silence, and then the only sound was her daughter’s slow, even breathing. Kairi smiled, tears glittering in her eyes from the sheer amount of love welling up inside her, and then kissed her daughter’s head. Carefully, slowly, she stood up from the chair to walk back to the crib. She laid Hikari down on the plush cushioning and covered her with her baby blanket, then turned on the mobile with palm trees, paopu fruits, and seagulls above her head. A sweet tune began to play from the speakers as colorful lights danced across the plastic. Even after Kairi had pulled the crib’s bars back up, she stood at the side of the crib to watch her daughter sleep.

She had no idea Sora had been standing in the doorway the whole time until he murmured, “I love it when you sing to her.”

She looked over her shoulder with a sweet smile, then looked back to the slumbering Hikari. Sora’s steps were careful as he walked up behind her to wrap his arms around her middle and rest his chin on her shoulder, joining his beloved in watching their daughter sleep. “She looks like an angel,” he smiled, then turned into her neck to lovingly nibble at her skin. Kairi giggled at the ticklish caress, reaching up to play with his sleep-mussed hair, which was even spikier than usual.

“You don’t think she’s much of an angel when you’re changing her diapers,” she joked, and Sora scrunched his nose up in disgust. Changing dirty diapers was an aspect of fatherhood that he was still adjusting to, but she couldn’t blame him; they were pretty stinky. Still, there were a thousand other things about his relationship with Hikari that made up for that. She loved watching him play with her when he gave her a bath, and the way he babbled to her in that sweet sing-song baby talk, and danced with her around the room until she was literally screaming with delight.

“Look, I’m sorry, but whatever comes out of Hikari’s bottom is like toxic waste,” Sora smirked as he nuzzled further into her neck, giving her a squeeze. Kairi just laughed, because she kind of had to agree. “Still an angel, though, even if her diapers are stinky. Our perfect little angel.”

“Our perfect little angel,” she echoed, and despite the circumstances, Kairi’s heart still fluttered at the word “our.” Even now, the idea that she was spending her life with this perfect man, that they had this perfect baby, that they had this perfect life— it just filled her with so much joy that she just had to let it out in the form of tears lest she explode.

“Hey,” Sora crooned when he realized she’d started silently crying again. She sniffed as he turned her face so he could kiss the tears away, smiling all the while. “What is it?”

“I’m just— I’m just so happy,” she laughed, knowing it was kind of silly but unable to help it. Sora would never laugh at her, though, not when he was a big ol’ crybaby himself. Purring, Sora turned her around in his arms so he could press a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then to each of her cheeks, and then finally her lips. Then he looked at her with those deep blue sea eyes, those eyes like their daughter’s, those eyes full of so much love it was suffocating in the best way.

“I’m happy too, Kairi. I”m so happy I can share this wonderful life with you,” he whispered. He grabbed her hands so he could entwine their fingers together, and then he brought him to his mouth so he could kiss those, too. She couldn’t help but laugh as she lavished her in affection, just like he always did. He was nothing if not full of love.

“Donna tokidatte, tada hitoride, unmei wasurete, iketekitanoni,” he sang in a raspy, kind of off-key voice against her palm, making her snort in laughter. His eyes glittered as he continued to sing in that low voice, and it made her smile so hard that her cheeks ached a little. But like heck she was going to ask him to stop. As he sang the next verse, she sang with him: “Totsuzen no hikari no naka megasameru, mayonakani.”

“Your voice is definitely prettier than mine,” he laughed, and she dropped her head with a snicker. When she looked back up, she pressed a kiss to his chin, making his smile widen.

“I think you still did a good job,” she said, and he preened under her praise. She’d always had such a way of giving him a big head with just the simplest of words. Or maybe it was just every word she said was magic to him, the sap. Oh, but he was her sap, and she was kinda sappy for him, too.

She wasn’t sure if it was the lullaby or just the fact it was the early hours of the morning, but Kairi’s eyes began to droop, too. Sora noticed, and promptly bundled her into his arms, making her jump up to wrap her legs around him. She showered his face in pets and kisses as he carried her out of the nursery back to their shared bedroom.

Just as they were snuggling back into bed, Hikari’s shrill cries echoed through the house, and Kairi had to laugh at the futility of sleep. As she prepared to get back out of bed, Sora pushed on her shoulders to get her to lay back down.

“But she won’t go to sleep without the lullaby,” she said as Sora slipped out of bed, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn.

“I know. I gotta practice, and besides, it’s push-and-pull, right? It ain’t fair if you do all the work.”

“I think you just wanna get out of diaper duty tomorrow,” she teased, and Sora snorted in response.

“Just go to bed,” he laughed while shoving a pillow into her face. Kairi rolled over, hugging the pillow to her chest as she rolled onto her side. She watched Sora walk off back down the hall, and as she melted gratefully into the bed, Hikari’s cries quieted. Soon, they were replaced with the soft voice of Sora singing, and Kairi’s eyes drifted shut with a smile.

Our perfect little life, she thought again, and it really was.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#sokai #sokaiweek #sokaiweek2021 #sora x kairi #kairi x sora #kingdom hearts

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carryonmywaywardcaptain · 4 years

Text

Imagine...experiencing your worst nightmare

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist Dean Winchester Masterlist

Warnings: angst, hurtful words, low self-esteem, twist ending, fluff

A/N: Things aren’t always what they seem. Gif imagine, partially inspired by 8x20. Also...I really love how this turned out. :)

Something about the way he looked at you shook you to your core. His eyebrows were drawn together, creased and heavy with so much disappointment. There was a hint of sadness and grief in his eyes, but mostly he just looked...done. More than ready to wash his hands of you for good.

“I hate you.”

His voice was low and firm as the harsh admission finally left his lips. A simple, matter-of-fact statement that knocked the air from your lungs.

You were always secretly afraid that one day you’d make one mistake too many, causing him to walk away for good. Even though you had expected to hear the words for so long, they still left your insides reeling. His confession rang in your ears, echoing through your mind long after he had fallen silent.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You wanted to say you were sorry. To plead with him— beg him to change his mind. To give you one last chance...but there was nothing to say. Of course he hated you.

You knew you’d let him down. That’s all you ever did was let the boys down. You were nothing more than a liability. A burden to them.

“Do you understand how many people have gotten hurt because of you? How many people have died? Me and Sam could’ve saved them all! But we were too busy wasting our time trying to keep you alive. All you’ve ever done is weigh us down.”

His expression was hard and cold as he stared back at you. Tears began streaming down your face as you sank to your knees. You averted your eyes, focusing on your hands that lay feeble in your lap.

“You think Sam and I ever actually cared about you? That you’d ever actually be family? That I could ever love you?”

His words continued to cut through you, severing each thread of hope and resilience that barely held you together. Because he was right-- how could you ever believe any of that?

“Y/N?”

Dean’s tone was much softer now. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn there was a hint of concern in his voice. But you refused to look at him, knowing his scornful eyes were still blazing at you.

“Y/N!”

You flinched, feeling his calloused hand grip your arm and shake you roughly. After hesitantly tilting your head to peek at him, you scrunched your face in confusion.

Dean was kneeling beside you, leaning close as he repeated your name. His jade eyes were glossy and troubled as they danced over your face. He wore a black shirt and light button-up beneath his canvas jacket instead of your favorite red and black flannel.

“Hey, sweetheart, I need you to focus.” His voice was urgent as he cradled your face in his large hands. “Listen to me--none of this is real.”

You wanted to believe him, but all you could think to do was shake your head.

“Y/N, this is all in your head. Out there in the real world? You’re dying, so I need you to listen. We were hunting a djinn, remember? Just like the case with Charlie in Topeka, this one is feeding off your fear and the antidote didn’t work. I’m the real Dean. That ass clown? He’s not real. Just part of the fear that’s lying to you.”

Following where he gestured with his thumb, you glanced over his shoulder to the red plaid Dean. You had to admit, it was a little suspicious how he’d seemed to voice every fear that ran rampant in your mind. Every insecurity you kept to yourself, hidden under lock and key. You shifted your attention back and forth between the two men, trying to remember.

“None of it’s true. I will never hate you, do you understand? Nothing you could ever do would make me say those words to you. I love you, Y/N. You are family. You’ve got no idea how much you mean to all of us. To Sam and Cas. Jack...me. And, god, I just wish...”

You looked to the red plaid Dean again, furrowing your brow when he rippled like a mirage and disappeared. The Dean in front of you curled a finger beneath your chin and guided your face to look at him once more.

“I wish I could show you. I wish there was some way I could make you believe me...but I can’t. This is up to you. Sweetheart, you’ve gotta find a way to let this all go. Thinking you don’t matter, that you don’t belong in our lives...that there’s any way we could ever do any of this without you. You’ve gotta find a way to break this cycle. Let go of all that fear of not being enough so we can get you out of here. Then we’ll work on helping you believe it out there in the real world too.”

He leaned forward and gently kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger against your skin before he pulled away. You took a deep breath, feeling a tremendous amount of the heaviness melt away from your chest as you exhaled. The other Dean’s words had breathed life into a fear so deep that you hadn’t even realized it was what you were most afraid of.

You would’ve thought your greatest fear would be losing the boys-- watching them die tragically, guns blazing like Dean always said. But even with that fear, there was always a glimmer of hope that they’d continue to find their way back from death. This djinn induced nightmare helped you realize what you feared more than any of that...was not being good enough. The idea that the boys might not want you at all.

The other Dean had made a compelling argument and it was easy for you to believe he was telling the truth. But as you looked into this Dean’s eyes, there was no denying how sincere his words were. You could see the concern and pain and love he felt so clearly. It was painted all over his face just how much you meant to him.

Closing your eyes, you drew in a deep breath and took your first step toward believing him.

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goldenraeofsun · 3 years

Text

There is Only Try, Part II

Read Part I here!

A love spell - that’s right. Cas is under a fucking love spell.

And like an exquisitely-built house of cards, it all tumbles down. Soundless and devastating.

Dean’s heart skips a beat, and not in the fun way like when he found out that widow housewife was down for an open relationship. He stares at Cas, the blood draining from his face.

“Dean?”

“The love spell,” Dean says hoarsely.

“What about it?”

“You only think you love me because of a love spell.”

Cas throws him a bemused look. “Sometimes I don’t understand you at all. You were right there when Rowena said it wouldn’t affect me in the same way if I already harbored feelings for you. For a moment I was worried you’d -”

“No,” Dean interrupts, “but magic doesn’t affect you the same. None of this is real.”

“What.” From Cas’s tone, it isn’t a question.

“Rowena’s attack dog spell!” Dean explains wildly. “It killed that girl Rowena was trying to recruit for her coven, but when she hit you with it, you didn’t die.”

“Obviously,” Cas says, eyes narrowing as he tries to follow along with Dean’s logic.

“It only dug deeper into you.” Dean exhales, a complicated mixture of embarrassment, rage, and dread settling heavily in the pit of his stomach.

Cas purses his lips. “You’re being deliberately obtuse.”

Dean jerks back, stung. “You’re being… obtuse.”

Cas levels him a flat glare. “I started feeling this way years before we killed that last witch.”

“But what if it’s the spell making you think that? What if this is all because of the magic,” Dean starts, horror crashing down, “and I’m so fucking screwed when you’re back to yourself?”

“This is me,” Cas says, insulted.

“You don’t know that!”

“I actually do,” Cas protests, the faintest stirrings of anger creeping into his words. “This isn’t the spell, Dean.”

But Dean pushes away from the table, shaking his head. “No, no, no,” he repeats, hands balling into fists at his side. “Of course it’s the goddamn spell.” He shakes his head, feeling like the shittiest, lowest person on the planet. No fucking wonder it was too easy.

How messed-up in the head must Cas be to think he’s fallen for a human? For Dean?

Oh yeah, here’s everything Dean wanted right on a silver platter. It’s just, the last time he got a deal like that the little catch was his soul.

Dean’s too old to fall for this crap again.

He can’t look Cas in the face. “I’m gonna go check on Rowena,” he says gruffly.

Cas stands up. “I’ll come with you.”

Dean’s jaw clenches. He holds out a hand. “Don’t.”

Cas’s mouth sets in a hard line. “Despite my feelings for you, I am not yours to command. I will be going with you.”

Dean grunts acknowledgement, spinning on his heel for the door. It’s not like Dean has ever had any real say on Cas’s comings and goings - mostly goings nowadays.

Cas follows, his footsteps nearly silent on the Bunker’s floor.

Dean stomps down all the way down to the vault where they keep their most skeevy ingredients. He finds Sam and Rowena bent over a brass bowl. Their clothing is intact, thank god, but Rowena's hair has like three red curls out of place and her lipstick is smudged, so she’s the most mussed Dean’s ever seen her.

“You got the antidote to Cas’s little problem?” Dean asks brusquely, clomping down the stairs. He already feels claustrophobic surrounded by the windowless walls piled high with pickling jars and boxes spelled shut, never mind Cas boring holes into the back of his head.

Rowena looks up, blinking guilelessly at them. “Of course! It’s one of the most basic spells a witch can learn. I had it whipped up in a jiffy.”

“Then why didn’t you come get us?” Dean demands.

“I thought, while we had a little time, I might as well show Samuel some protection charms.” Rowena casts a sly look up at Sam. “He didn’t know any, the poor lamb. Totally unprepared. After all, you never know when the, ahem, mood will strike.”

Sam goes red in the face.

“Oh, gross.” Dean shudders.

Behind him Cas makes a wordless considering noise, which - Dean can’t think about right now.

Rowena’s gaze slips past Dean to Cas over his shoulder. “Are you ready?”

Cas steps forward, and Dean can practically feel the weight of Cas’s gaze on him. Dean doesn’t turn around; he can’t. He can’t look at Cas and know it’s the last time he’ll be seeing that half-exasperated, half-smitten expression on his face.

Rowena reaches behind the bowl and pinches a stoppered vial between her thumb and forefinger. She shakes it enticingly in Cas’s direction. “Bottoms up, dove.”

Gingerly, Cas steps forward to take it from her. He doesn’t make a move to drink it.

Dean huffs an irritated breath, his heart beating erratically in his chest at the look in Cas’s eye. “Go on,” he says through gritted teeth. “Take it.”

Cas purses his lips, fingers slipping on the cork.

“Christ,” Dean mutters, snatching it from Cas’s lax grip.

“Dean-” Sam starts reproachfully, but Dean ignores him as he opens the cure and thrusts it back in Cas’s direction.

Cas stares at the depths of the murky brownish substance, and Dean’s about to force it down Cas’s throat himself to get this torture over with when Cas finally swallows the potion.

They all watch him, Dean barely blinking not to miss anything.

“Well?” he asks as Cas just stands there, still as a statue.

Rowena waves her hand. “Revelio,” she barks, eyes flaring violet.

Nothing happens.

“The spell has been nullified,” Rowena announces smugly. “No need to pay me. Samuel has already seen to my… reimbursement.”

Dean scowls. “Again, gross.”

“Rowena -” Sam starts, casting an almost guilty look in Dean’s direction. “Stop.”

“Fine,” Rowena says airily, to Dean’s complete surprise. Maybe she’s not such a heinous bitch after all. “I’ve had my fun. It’s like taunting a small child - at some point it becomes all rather repetitive.”

Nope, still a bitch.

But before Dean can respond, Cas grasps him around the upper arm. “Don’t,” he murmurs.

“But she-”

“We need to talk,” Cas growls, almost herding him back up the stairs. “Sam can deal with Rowena.”

“Don’t worry, that part’s already happened, darlin’!” Rowena calls delightedly up to them.

“Hey,” Sam protests, but the next part gets cut off as Cas practically drags Dean back to his room.

In his room, Dean crosses his arms over his chest as Cas closes the door behind them. “What?” Dean says defensively. “If you’re looking for an apology - I’m sorry, okay? I know I fucked up.”

Cas huffs an impatient breath, shaking his head. “I understand our relationship is complicated, but I had hoped -” he breaks off. He leans against the door, keeping as much space as possible between him and Dean.

Unspoken message received, Dean falls heavily onto the edge of his bed, half-facing away from Cas. A riot of feelings he’d rather drink away are duking it out underneath his ribcage, but, in a burst of trademark Winchester forethought, he already finished off his bedroom emergency stash. “We don’t gotta talk about it, man,” he says to his hands.

“We clearly do,” Cas counters, eyeing him like Dean’s an easily spooked zoo animal, “if you don’t trust me enough to take me at my word.”

Dean raises his head. “What?”

Cas sighs. “I told you my feelings ran deeper than a simple love spell. I told you, I’ve admired you, cared about you, loved you since before we ever ran into that witch.”

Dean gapes up at him.

Cas meets his gaze squarely. “I love you, Dean. No spell is making me say it; it’s just me.” He inhales a swift breath. “But if you’ve changed your mind, if I’m not -” he pauses infinitesimally before soldiering on, “not what you want, you should tell me now. Before any more mistakes are made.”

Dean gets to his feet on shaky legs, very conscious of Cas’s apprehensive gaze watching him the whole time it takes him to cross his bedroom. He gets right up in Cas’s personal space, and clearly Cas has learned something because his eyes widen at Dean’s proximity.

Dean clears his throat. “I’m not good with words, Cas.”

Cas nods jerkily. “I know, and that’s fine.” He tries to take a step back, but there’s nowhere to go since he’s already backed himself up against the door.

“I don’t remember the last time I told someone I loved them to their face,” Dean says hesitantly, and it’s excruciating to say these things out loud. “Not Lisa. Not Bobby, or even Sam.” And before Cas can stumble right back out the door, Dean reaches for his hand. Dean’s palms feel gross and clammy, but Cas doesn’t seem to care, judging from the wonderful world of Disney look coming over his face. “So if you need that sort of thing, you’re angling to get with the wrong dude.”

Cas licks his lips, his fingers tightening around Dean’s. Slowly, he shakes his head. “A verbal confirmation, while nice, is not necessary.” He glances down at their clasped hands. “But hopefully, you’ll feel comfortable telling me someday.”

Dean shrugs. He won’t write it off completely, but he can’t start this… thing with Cas with any secrets.

“Until then,” Cas says, “I can see your soul. I just didn’t know how to read what you were feeling until now.”

Old Dean would’ve made some stupid quip about personal boundaries.

New and improved, loved Dean, is simply grateful Cas gets to use a cheat code for all the hard parts.

Cas makes the first move.

Breath hot and heavy against Dean’s lips, Cas grips the edges of Dean’s flannel, anchoring him to Cas’s front. His mouth is hungry as he kisses Dean, and Dean can’t help the way his hands reach up to tangle in Cas’s hair, dark and soft, and everything Dean’s ever dreamed of.

Cas makes a little wounded noise as Dean deepens the kiss, nipping at Cas’s bottom lip lightly. Cas’s hands slip under his shirt to grip his bare waist firmly, and Cas must run hotter than the average human because his touch is like fire against Dean’s skin.

Dean breaks away from Cas’s mouth to kiss at the hinge of his jaw, tonguing Cas’s pulse point as Cas gasps for air. He works the skin between his teeth, not enough to bruise or hurt, just enough to show Cas he means business.

Cas scrabbles for purchase against the door, grunting as he almost loses his footing.

“Why don’t we take this to the bed?” Dean murmurs.

“Are you sure?”

“If you are.” Dean licks his kiss-swollen lips. “You’ve done this before, right?”

Cas slowly shakes his head. “Not with a man.” Dean nods, already resigning himself to dealing with his thickening cock on his own, as Cas adds, “But I want to. With you.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “Your only time was with that reaper, right?”

Cas huffs. “In practice, yes. But I spent millennia watching humans copulate. There’s hardly a sex act or position that would surprise me by now.”

Dean grins. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “You’re welcome to try,” he grumbles as Dean leads him towards his bed. “But for now, I’d like to bring you to orgasm with my mouth.”

Dean chokes. “You what?”

“I’ve given it a fair amount of thought,” Cas says as he methodically strips Dean of his flannel and shirt. “What I would do to your body if I had the chance. How I would use my knowledge of human anatomy and physiology to give you pleasure.”

“Fuck,” Dean rasps, transfixed by the sight of Cas’s sure hands working open his belt buckle. “Who knew you were such a kinky son of a bitch under that trench coat?”

“You would have known,” Cas points out, “if you’d ever bothered to ask.”

Dean chuckles breathlessly. “But that one time with the hooker - I could’ve spooked you with a strong breeze.”

Cas frowns in the middle of pulling Dean’s jeans and underwear down. “I didn’t want her. I want you.”

Fuck a holy oil molotov cocktail; Dean is going to combust just from that look on Cas’s face.

Dean steps out of his pants, frowning as he takes in Cas, still bundled up to the neck in suit and coat. “Looks like you’re overdressed, angel.”

Cas looks down at himself.

“Let me help,” Dean drawls, pushing Cas’s coat off first. He lets it fall to the floor in a puddle of tan fabric, quickly followed by Cas’s suit jacket. He captures Cas’s mouth in another kiss, blindly undoing the buttons of Cas’s shirt. He lets it flutter to the floor and yanks Cas’s undershirt over his head, laughing softly as Cas has a little trouble with the neck hole.

Cas surfaces, looking almost smite-y around the eyes. He crowds Dean up against the bed until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. “Lay down,” he orders quietly.

Dean complies, blushing furiously. He stares up at Cas, shirtless, belt buckle undone, pants unzipped. He can make out the slight bulge of Cas’s hard cock underneath the dark fabric.

Cas crawls over him, kissing him deeply, and Dean’s never been this turned on in his life. He yanks Cas’s pants the rest of the way off, grumbling as one leg gets caught around Cas’s ankle. Impatient, Cas shakes off the last of his clothing, and he’s gloriously bare, bent over Dean.

Cas slots his leg between Dean’s, his thigh lightly brushing against Dean’s hard cock, and Dean has to actively concentrate not to rut against Cas and shoot his load in thirty seconds flat. He groans as Cas applies a bit of pressure.

“Are you ready?” Cas rumbles.

“To die of blue balls?” Dean gripes.

Cas shoots him an unimpressed look before he shimmies down Dean’s body so his face is more in line with Dean’s crotch. Thank god Dean doesn’t need to memorize this for spank bank material; any recollection would hardly do it justice - the feel of Cas’s hot breath over his cock, the way Dean’s heartbeat is thundering with anticipation, the expression on Cas’s face like Dean is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Cas actually licks his lips.

Goddamn, Cas hasn’t even really touched him yet, and Dean’s so fucking done.

Dean groans as Cas wraps his hand around him, his grip gentle but sure. He gives Dean a few experimental pumps, and Dean’s in serious danger of letting this all end too quickly.

“Slower,” he says through gritted teeth, “or I’m gonna come.”

Cas blinks. “Already?”

“Yes,” Dean says testily. “You’re hot, and I’ve jacked off to this exact scenario a bunch of times - so, yes, ‘already.’”

Far from looking disappointed, Cas’s expression turns distinctly smug as he sits back slightly on his haunches, slowing the pace of his hand to a crawl.

Breathing harshly through his nose, Dean grunts, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Cas says at once. “I’ve witnessed plenty of premature ejaculations.”

“So reassuring.”

“Dean,” Cas says, leaning forward so they’re practically nose-to-nose, “If you’re really concerned about coming too soon, I can get you hard again.”

“Dude, I get that you have high expectations, but I’m not a teenager anymore,” Dean says. “I can get it up like max three times in a whole day, and, even then, that’s only with good pacing and a lot of time on my hands.”

“You misunderstand me,” Cas says, pressing a swift kiss to Dean’s mouth. “I wouldn’t leave your erections up to chance.”

As Dean stares up at him, uncomprehending, Cas’s eyes flare electric blue.

Oh shit.

“You can do that? Give me a,” Dean struggles for the right word, “grace boner?”

Cas winkles his nose in distaste, and that’s it; Dean will always call it a grace boner from now on. “It would be no different than manipulating your body’s physiology to speed up healing or render you unconscious.”

“Dude, we have to work on your dirty talk,” Dean says, grinning.

Cas rolls his eyes but ducks back down to get his hands back on Dean’s cock. Dean hisses at the contact, but Cas ignores him. Cas tightens his grip, one corner of his mouth quirking up as Dean’s hips jerk and twist in response.

Dean inhales sharply, his fingers twisting in the sheets, as Cas bends down lower to lick the head. The wet, slick touch is gone too soon, and Dean moans at the loss, “C’mon, Cas.”

Cas laves his tongue over Dean’s dick a few more times, slowly, savoring the taste like a fucking gourmand. Which - flattering, but also totally not what Dean needs right now. He squirms on the bed, trying to get more of Cas’s mouth on him.

Cas doesn’t give an inch. “Patience, love,” he murmurs, one hand splaying possessively over his abdomen.

“Christ,” Dean gasps as Cas licks a long stripe up his cock, root to tip. He gets one flash of brilliant blue eyes before Cas ducks his head, swallows Dean down, and sucks like his life depends on it.

“Fuck!” Dean’s hips buck violently, seeking more of that delicious heat, but Cas keeps him still with a hand that might as well have been made of iron. And, Jesus, if that not pinging all of Dean’s buttons. Dean groans as Cas gives a particularly hard pull.

Cas pulls off of him, licking his lips in a lewd display that sends every last blood cell Dean has left rushing south. “Are you alright?”

“Am I-?” Dean gasps incredulously. He laughs, breathy and not at all sounding like himself. “I’m good, buddy. I’m fucking awesome.”

Cas smiles. “I’m glad.”

Dean's response gets cut off with a low moan as Cas gets back to worshipping Dean's cock. Cas swirls his tongue around the head as his other hand reaches around to pump the shaft in time with the movements of his tongue.

Soon, far too fucking soon, Dean feels the telltale tingles of an oncoming orgasm.

A strangled “Cas-” is all the warning he can get out before he comes with a shout. It feels like Cas’s throat wrings every last drop from him, leaving him in a hazy euphoria.

Cas straightens, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and Dean has never seen anything hotter. “Was that satisfactory?” he asks, his voice raspy from the workout.

Dean gapes up at him. “Yeah.” He reaches for Cas’s hand, tugging him back down to the bed. “C’mere.”

Cas goes, a bemused expression on his face. “Like this,” Dean murmurs, positioning Cas on his back as Dean rolls to his side. He reaches down between them, wrapping his fingers around Cas’s cock. It’s been a while since he’s done it to someone else, but handjobs aren’t exactly rocket science.

Dean’s so used to studying Cas’s normally stoic face for signs of what he’s really thinking, it’s easy as pie to key into Cas’s tells now. He grins as Cas lets out a little surprised gasp, adding more pressure as Cas breathing speeds up. As Cas shakes apart, Dean kisses him through it.

Dean flops back, turning his head to watch Cas bask in his own post-orgasm afterglow.

“That was… very nice,” Cas says eventually.

“You bet your fucking ass it was nice,” Dean retorts. He bites his lip. “You really wanna do this? With me?”

“I love you,” Cas says simply. “Why wouldn’t I at least want to try?”

And when Cas puts it like that, Dean can’t find a single reason not to.

#destiel fanfic #profoundnet #destiel #love spell #canon divergence #season 12 #fanfic #minor samwitch #there is only try #rae writes fic

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homogrimoire-archive · 3 years

Text

Kingfield's Fourth Anniversary - Day 2

Escapism / Memory & Wish

Dwight and David spend some peaceful time alone, and contemplate their future together.

AO3 Link

It was quiet. The sky was clear, imitation moon and stars bright above and an unnatural darkness 'round them. They were away from the campfire, laying together in the middle of a clearing of flowers.

They weren't cuddling together for warmth. The mistress of this simulation made it so they were never too hot or cold, unless by her or the killers' hands.

They were cuddling because they wanted to. Their fellow survivors wouldn't have known that though. They probably would have seen two good friends huddling for warmth, because maybe it did sometimes get at least little chilly. That's what they probably would have told themselves to avoid thinking the worst. David didn't care what they thought of him at the end of the day. Dwight did, and David understood why. Dwight was their leader. He was a rare boon to their lives, just as he was to David.

Either way, sometimes you just wanted someone to hold, wanted to be held. This place did that to even the coldest, toughest, and hardest of them. David was proof of that. There he was, curled up against Dwight, head resting on the shorter man's chest.

He just wanted to know that Dwight was alive with him, that there was someone who loved him. As Dwight mindlessly combed his fingers through his short hair, that feeling was reinforced.

David always thought he'd one day find a wife and settle down or something along those lines. Or die before that. He was living a rather dangerous life.

Dwight kinda though he'd maybe find a wife someday. Statistically, it was more likely. And also a safe move since he'd never have to out himself. He could keep his secret forever and ever. Even so, he wanted to be able to find a husband if he wanted to. Hell, just even having a boyfriend would have been nice.

Such was the world.

And somehow, this hell hole was slightly better. There was no grand society with cruel laws and high expectations to worry about. Just friends and acquaintances who Dwight didn't want to disappoint. They were his friends. He didn't want them to think less of him.

David didn't think of them as friends. They hadn't proven themselves to him yet like Dwight had first. He wanted them to be friends though.

So aside from that, there wasn't much to worry about compared to what they might've had to deal with back home for being who they were.

This place granted them this freedom in which they could be together without fear of retribution. But, they didn't want to stay in this place forever, for obvious reasons.

Thus, David's mind wandered to what they would do if they escaped. When they escaped. Dwight's efforts to instill that way of thought were working.

"Dwight?"

"What is it?" the leader wondered, slightly shifting his head down to look at his beloved brawler. David could feel the vibrations of his love's voice through his chest as he spoke.

"When we go back, what're we gonna do?" David asked.

"Oh. I… hadn't thought that far. Sorry." he apologized, suddenly taking his fingers out of David's hair.

"Don't be. I honestly 'aven't either. … You didn't 'ave to stop."

"So bossy!" Dwight chuckled as he went back to stroking the top of David's head. He never would have imagined David to like such affection so much.

A moment of quiet followed before David spoke up again.

"I think I know wot I want t'do first."

"And what's that?"

"Kiss you. I don't care who's around. The first thing I want to do when I see you again is kiss you."

"I... I'd like that." Dwight responded. The idea of such a thing terrified him. Yet, he'd love nothing more than for that to happen. He had a feeling he'd get caught up in the moment and kiss David too anyhow.

"Also wanna move in with ya. I'd like a fresh start somewhere new."

"We could get an apartment. We could move somewhere westward. I could use a new start too." Dwight said. Sure, he'd moved around a bit, but never really strayed away from the northern eastward states. He was used to colder climates, so he figured some place also north would be easy for him and David to adjust. Washington, the Dakotas, Montana, something like that.

"What kind of flat would you want?

"Something cheap, it doesn't really matter to me."

"No, what kinda flat do ya want ?"

"Oooh. Hmm… I want a place with at least one good sized bedroom. It has to be big enough to fit a huge bed. I'd like to have a bathroom that doesn't have mold on the ceiling for once, and neighbors that don't argue all night." Dwight listed with growing frustration. He than took a breath to calm himself. "Sorry. I'm just kinda venting now, aren't I?"

"I don't mind, luv. You've gotta 'ave someone you can talk to."

"Thanks David." Dwight smiled. He could never be so open with the others. They were his friends, but he was also their leader. Sure they'd all seen each other bloody, bruised, crying and mutilated, but still. "I think I'd also want a decent kitchen, and maybe a guest bedroom."

"And when there's no guest, it can be our sex dungeon." David joked. Dwight laughed as he lightly berated his boyfriend for his crudeness. He'd be lying if he said he hated it though.

"What about you? What do you want?"

"Nah, there isn't much I want. Long as I got you, I'm good."

"Oh come on! There has to be something else you want." Dwight pestered as he shifted to he and David were lying next to each other on their sides, face to face.

"Well… a bloody steady job'd be nice. Preferably not too dangerous this time around."

"I second that, a lot, actually. So, what else?" Dwight asked, looking lovingly at David and eager to hear what he had to say.

At that moment, David knew what he wanted more than anything. He felt himself blushing, and quickly turned away from Dwight. Shame, fear, embarrassment, he wasn't sure what made him do so.

"I… I'd like to… get married. Not right away of course. But someday. Have a home together. A family together." he admitted. It was said, the words he'd kept deep down in himself out in the open now like freshly blossomed dandelions in the wind.

He heard Dwight shimmy his way up against him, and felt Dwight embrace him from behind. He kissed David on his tattoo. He held onto one of Dwight's hands with his own, feeling a loving warmth.

"I'd like that too."

#kingfield #dwight fairfield #david king #dead by daylight #dbd #Kingfield's Fourth Anniversary #like totally go and read the end notes on ao3 for this fic if you wanna see why I think david and dwight were taken in the 2000s #i kinda went off lol #its a more solid case for dwight but you know how it is #1.1k words

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ao3theskyisblue · 4 years

Text

(Seeing You) For All That You Are

Summary:

"How is it that whenever we meet, it's when at least one article of clothing is missing?"

"Disappointed?"

"Of course not."

*An alternate first meeting (and meetings after that) where TK and Carlos can't seem to meet up without being at least partially naked beforehand.*

Read on ao3

Wow, it’s been a while. Gotta love online school and the faulty concept of time right now 🙃

I may or may not have gotten this idea over the exam season, and literally right after I sat my ass down to work through this fic.

I hope you enjoy! 😊

~~~~~~~~~~

TK wasn’t quite sure how he found himself in his current predicament.

It might have been his rebellious side resurfacing from his teenage years, because when he saw that the hotel pool was open 24/7, safety at your own discretion, he thought it would be a brilliant idea to go at 3:07am, thinking he’d have the pool all to himself. It was an awkward time of the year to take a vacation after all, most office workers would be working in the middle of September, and school had just started.

He had coincidently just graduated from his undergrad at NYU, deciding to apply to become a firefighter at the last second. Since he was a little late in his application, he had a bit of free time before getting serious about his future career. His father had suggested they take a small vacation away from the hustle and bustle of the city to explore the wild – namely, hiking near the Five Finger Lakes.

He had overheard the receptionists mentioning how it had been a slow week, with tourists generally dissipating after the end of August to go back to their busy lives. So, what better time than to experience an empty pool in the early hours of the morning to wind down?

After hiking for the entire day to enjoy what nature had to offer, Owen had collapsed on one of the beds and slipped right into a deep slumber, leaving TK still high from the adrenaline rush of the hike. It was then that he remembered the pool the receptionist had kindly mentioned when they first checked in, and plus, showering in the communal showers there will prevent him from accidentally waking up his dad, who clearly needed the rest.

And lo and behold, he was correct. Other than his own quiet footsteps and the low buzzing of the diminished ceiling lights, the pool was completely empty.

Doing a few laps at his own pace, he ignored how his mind persistently nudged at him to go over every single detail of his firefighter application he had handed in earlier that day, hoping to find some flaw in the stack of documents he couldn’t fix for the 20th time anymore.

Maybe music will help.

It was easy to let his guard down when he knew he was alone – no one to judge him on his music genre, or his singing abilities. Which is how he found himself singing at the top of his lungs to Cody Simpson’s Pretty Brown Eyes, rocking his hips to the beat in what he knew was a very exaggerated manner.

The hotel lobby had been playing the song on loop for some odd reason, and the nostalgic throwback had the song quickly stuck in his head as he hummed along to the lyrics.

What was that saying, dance like no one is watching?

And that was how he found himself slamming his back against the wall of the shower stall, gesturing wildly as he half-laughed, half-sang the lines ‘hey there pretty brown eyes, whatcha’ doing later tonight?”

Everything was going splendidly. He was about to sing the next line, leaning down to pick up his bottle of body wash when it happened.

They say fate greets you in mysterious ways. It either sledgehammers you to the brutal truths of reality, or-

“Would you mind if I spent a minute with you?”

Or it greets you with a voice singing the next part of the song that wasn’t his own.

An ice-cold sensation of wakefulness hit him all at once, when he realized that that wasn’t his voice. TK froze, the next lyrics falling short as he stopped mid-dance move to look around wildly. And he made two observations.

There was someone in the shower.

He was going to fall.

He barely had time to be embarrassed by the sound of surprise he made at both realizations as he frantically moved to grab something – anything, to help with the very unfriendly meeting he was going to have with the concrete soon. Unfortunately, the only thing within his reach was the shower curtain, which did nothing to break his inevitable plummet to the very hard floor.

Dammit-

“Are you alright?”

TK groaned as he pressed the heel of his hands to his forehead, mentally assessing if there were unusual onsets of pain anywhere before deciding he was fine. Looking up, his eyes widened at the ethereal sight that greeted him.

There was a very noticeable part.

But apart from…that, standing in front of him, all towering and absolutely gorgeous, was a man. At least, TK thinks it was a man and not some god the universe decided to send down to torment his existence.

‘All animals were created equal’ his ass. Orwell was right, some were definitely more equal than others.

The man was sporting abs that would make even the best washboards jealous, water droplets dripping down the column of his neck and reaching his chest, seeming to be in a race to see which one would reach his –

TK quickly averted his gaze, his mind screaming at him to do the exact opposite, but he had manners he liked to uphold. And the residual level of self-control.

The mysterious man made a sound of realization before there was a quick shuffling, and a quiet “you can look now” in a very amused tone, and TK slowly turned to look at the man again, who was now extending a hand to him. The water droplets had now successfully made it well past the half-way point, and TK was definitely not silently cheering for the left one as the race continued towards the low-strung towel the man had haphazardly wrapped around his waist.

“Hi.” He blurted out, unconsciously letting the beautifully crafted hand pull him upright.

“Hi.” The man mused, their hands slowly releasing from each other’s grip. TK noticed the man’s eyes drifting down quickly and was that appreciation in his gaze? He couldn’t tell and decided not to dwell on it as he quickly grabbed his towel to wrap around his own lower half, cheeks now a brilliant colour of all the shades of red.

“It’s nice to…be acquainted. With all of you. Not that I was looking.” Foot insert into mouth, now.

“Mmh, right.” Or better yet, maybe praying for the ground to swallow him whole would be better.

“This is turning into one of the most awkward first meetings I’ve ever had.” TK cleared his throat in what he hoped was a casual manner, but that was definitely pushing it as this was anything but casual. “And I’ve met some people running on two hours of sleep and six cups of coffee.”

The man laughed, the deep undertone resonating within the walls of the shower room, and TK felt his own lips tipping up into a large grin at succeeding in making light of the situation.

“If it’s any solace, this is one of the best first meetings I’ve had.” The man chuckled, moving to cross his arms over his chest, sadly obscuring TK’s view of the water droplets and the resulting winner of the race.

Shame.

Though, he couldn’t really complain as the movement further accentuated the man’s biceps, and wow, how does he even fit into his clothes?

Shaking his head, TK’s grin turned into a smirk when he remembered how he had found himself in this position in the first place.

“So, I see you’re a man of culture as well.” TK raised an eyebrow, opting to shift his weight to the side in a flirty stance, further showcasing the curves of his body. The man furrowed his eyebrows slightly in confusion. “Cody Simpson fan?”

TK watched as the man snorted, shaking his head. He tried very hard to pretend that he was not very obviously staring at the wet curls coming loose at the movement.

“Not really. I’ve just heard that song in particular more times than I can keep count. Especially from my siblings.” The man rolled his eyes in exasperation, and TK grinned.

“They all have good taste then. The song suits you very well.” TK wanted very badly to wink at the end, but decided to hold himself back. This was only their first meeting after all, he didn’t want to scare him off that quickly.

“You too. The first word of the song at least.” TK blinked, bewildered, because he didn’t have brown eyes –

Oh.

He distantly wondered if his cheeks could successfully cook a rotisserie chicken at the temperature they were currently at right now.

“Did you need to finish your shower? I’m sorry for interrupting.” TK quickly changed the subject, opting to ignore how the man’s eyes glinted knowingly.

“I was about to get dressed, actually. But now I’m kind of glad I didn’t.” The man smirked. TK rolled his eyes good-naturedly, reaching out to swat at the bulky shoulder. He was about to retort something smart back when they were interrupted by the loud ringing of a phone, and TK smiled in understanding when the man shot him an apologetic look.

“That would be my sister wondering where the hell I am. I’m – I’m sorry to cut this short.” The man gestured toward the general locker area, and TK waved his hand reassuringly.

“No worries. Go ahead.” TK tilted his head towards the locker rooms and took a moment to appreciate the retreating back of the man before heading into the shower stall to finish off what he had barely started.

He hadn’t expected the man to wait for him, but TK couldn’t help but feel a small sliver of disappointment when it was completely quiet when he made his way to the lockers.

He hadn’t even asked the man for his name.

The disappointment quickly dissipated when he saw a small sliver of – was that a paper towel? stuck between the crevices of his locker with messy writing on one side that looked like someone had been in a rush while writing it.

Hey! I’m so sorry but something came up and I have to go, but it was nice meeting you! Let’s do this again someday!

TK didn’t need a mirror to know he was sporting a silly grin, eyes immediately drifting down to the number written hastily on the bottom, wasting no time in taking out his phone to input his new contact.

Looks like he had a chance to ask the man for a name after all.

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

He did not, in fact, ask the man for his name.

It’s been nearly four months, and the nameless man was still saved in his phone as ‘Left Droplet’ because for one, the left droplet would have definitely won, and two, because he didn’t want his dad to accidentally see him receiving text messages from a ‘hot shower man.’ He debated over that or ‘pretty brown eyes,’ and, embarrassingly, he had spent the first couple of days switching between the two.

They had texted non-stop since then, and as they moved from one random topic to the next, names were the absolute last things on their minds. Left Droplet was slowly but surely becoming one of TK’s best friends, and they didn’t need to be on a ‘know your name’ basis for him to know that they shared something special.

What he’s learned so far in their texting spree was that the man was from Austin, Texas (1743 miles, 6 states, not that he was counting), an aspiring police officer who had just started in the police academy, the youngest of five, and too good to be true.

TK was still in honest disbelief sometimes that a man in his caliber could even exist, and to top it all off, he even chose to work in a similar field.

Currently, he was standing on the sidelines at the annual fire academy retreat for lessons on team bonding, occasionally glancing up from his phone at the uninteresting beach volleyball game going on between four of the more enthusiastic students.

Left Droplet: The person who came up with a beach retreat of all things to relax should be arrested

TK snickered at the most recent message, thumbs moving quickly to type out his own response.

TK: I thought you would enjoy activities that involved fewer articles of clothing

Left Droplet: Depends on the person I’m with

He really should have realized the uncanny coincidence before he spotted a familiar figure off in the distance. He thought he recognized the way the muscles rippled across the man’s back when he moved, the familiar strands of curls shifting slightly when he moved.

Wearing nothing but swim shorts.

When he managed to convince himself that no, his eyes were definitely not playing games with him, that it wasn’t a mirage, that the man standing a little further away was indeed the man he had been furiously texting with, TK finally made his move.

Carefully closing the distance between them, making sure not to make any sudden movements to deter from his surprise attack, TK grinned as he covered his target’s eyes with the palms of his hands. He could feel him tensing slightly, probably thinking that it was some random stranger.

Ironic, considering.

“We have got to stop meeting up like this.” TK murmured close to the man’s ear, and they grinned in tune with each other. They both laughed and TK’s grin widened when warm hands lifted to cover his own, thumbs gently caressing the inside of his wrists.

“You’ve got to admit there is a certain charm to it.” The man chuckled, and TK slowly released his hold, green eyes meeting warm brown ones once again. He briefly noted that those eyes drifted down quickly at his own lack of clothes save his summer shorts.

“What is the future Austin PD doing all the way out here?” TK asked, intrigued, as there had to be plenty of beaches in Austin, and while this beach was a good five-hour drive from New York City, it had to be a nearly two-day road trip from Austin. He was given an exasperated sigh as an answer.

“Apparently team bonding for us meant extended road trip, and this was just one of the stops.” TK took a chance to look behind the aspiring police officer to the others also a part of the trip, and interestingly enough, they were all caught up in their own game of frisbee. Or, what looked like a frisbee.

“You know what amazes me?”

TK turned back to the person standing in front of him, an unconscious smile tugging up the corners of his lips.

“What’s that?”

He watched, fascinated, as the man extended his hand once again, his eyes shining with laughter.

“I’m Carlos, it’s nice to see you again.” The man, Carlos, says, and TK has to bite his bottom lip to hold back a laugh. “I was hoping to finally have a name to go with your number when we met again, and not just ‘pretty boy I met in the shower.’”

“TK.” Accepting the extended hand, he couldn’t help but notice how their hands lingered in each other’s hold before finally separating. “It’s nice to see you again too. And to have a name to put with the face.”

“So, I’m guessing you’re also here for ‘team bonding?’” Carlos rolled his eyes at the last part, and TK nodded, tipping his head back towards where the other members of the fire academy graduating in a few weeks were.

“Yeah. Which mostly just consists of the more enthusiastic extroverts making merry while the rest of us stare at our phones.” TK deadpanned, a warmth spreading through his chest at Carlos’ responding grin. In a leap of confidence, he reached out to take Carlos’ hand in his, making sure to put on his most charming smile.

“Since you seem to be also standing on the sidelines, want to accompany me to some ice cream?” TK made sure to widen his eyes a little, dipping his head down and looking up in a way he’s practiced since he was ten when he wanted ice cream cake for dinner. Even his father, who tried his hardest not to dote too much could never resist.

He hid a smirk when he saw Carlos visibly startle, before shaking his head and smiling brightly.

“Lead the way.”

Works like a charm every time.

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

They weren’t dating.

Not really, anyway.

There was the constant texting, the occasional facetime, and the fact that TK probably knew more about Carlos than the man himself.

There was the one memorable moment when Carlos had texted him, absolutely frantic, about what the hell he was supposed to wear to a wedding when he forgot all about it in the whirlwind of other life events and found the invite underneath some papers on his desk. They had facetimed then, and TK had to hold back his laughter at the sight of Carlos’ closet almost completely empty, piles of potential outfit options messily strewn all over his bed.

“You know, there’s always the option to just not wear anything.” TK snickered, and couldn’t hold back his laugh at Carlos’ deadpan stare into the camera like he was in The Office.

“Not sure the bride and groom are going to appreciate a police officer showing up naked to a wedding reception.” Carlos drawled, narrowing his eyes as TK snorted.

“They obviously have poor taste then.” TK grinned, eyes scanning lazily over the outfits on Carlos’ bed, trying not to linger on the latter and instead focus on the clothes. “The navy one. The second one on the left? Go with that one.”

TK found himself tilting his phone to try and peek at the skin that Carlos wasn’t showing, before mentally groaning when he remembered the view was given from Carlos’ end, and he couldn’t exactly reach through his own phone to shift Carlos’ a little lower.

A true shame, really.

“I have to get going in…5 minutes. Wow am I glad I’m not a girl at times like this.” Carlos muttered, and TK could hear rustling in the background as Carlos practically snatched the outfit and was most likely putting it on.

“If you were a girl, maybe you would have actually remembered days before instead of hours.” TK smirked, watching in amusement as Carlos tapped the speakers on his phone in an attempt to showcase his annoyance.

It was rather counterproductive judging by the unabashed grin on his lips every time TK could catch a glimpse of it through the hurried movement.

“Remember to send pics!” TK practically sing-songed, before bidding a quick ‘good-bye,’ leaving himself staring at the facetime screen of his phone for a while, a giddy smile on his lips.

Even with facetime, he hadn’t quite seen the entire picture Carlos painted, and appreciating him through a screen was never enough. He wanted to see for himself how the material folded around his body, feel the warmth through the soft fabric, smell the –

And that’s enough of a digress.

TK was also pretty sure Owen knew about the mysterious texts even though he never asked him outright. He knew his father was waiting for him to say it himself, but it was all so new (on a technicality basis), and TK didn’t want to accidentally break the glass before even lifting it off the shelf first.

Okay, so the ice cream date-not-date was fun, and the late afternoon shoreline walk after that was honestly very romantic. TK had boldly kissed Carlos on the cheek in parting before the two left in their own separate directions as they headed back to their homes.

They lived in two different worlds, and practically on opposite sides of the country (that may be an exaggeration, but still). The only way they met was by coincidence, both of them very obviously avoiding the subject of planned meetups.

It had been another two months before it happened again.

“How is it that whenever we meet, it’s when at least one article of clothing is missing?”

TK should honestly be surprised at hearing the voice from the person he yearned for every time over the phone so close in his vicinity, but didn’t even turn around before quipping back, “disappointed?” Smiling when he felt a hand slip around his waist, he willingly let himself be pulled in for a side hug.

It was only their third time meeting like this, in a gym shower of all places, but Carlos’ voice has since been ingrained in his memory. He leaned into the hold naturally, putting down the shirt he was seconds away from pulling over his head to wrap his arms around Carlos instead.

“Of course not.” Carlos murmured, and TK reveled in the feeling of warmth that wasn’t just from the skin-to-skin contact, looking up to see Carlos already looking down at him, eyes crinkling fondly.

“Are you going to tell me we’re sharing the same gym now?” TK mused, squirming slightly when Carlos pinched the skin above his hip in admonishment.

“The officer I’m shadowing got called out here to help with a case. This gym happened to be close to where I’m staying, so I thought I would try it out.” Carlos tilted his head, and TK immediately knew what he was going to ask.

“There was a little accident at the station and the equipment room is out of order for the meantime, and coincidentally, this gym is also close to where I live.” TK explained, groaning when Carlos’ eyes glinted knowingly.

“You mean, when you thought it would be a great idea to microwave the eggs that you forgot to cook thinking it would be faster, only to cause an explosion?” Carlos asked innocently, and TK huffed, stepping out of Carlos’ embrace to glare at the audacity.

“I did not tell you that so you could make fun of me.” TK knew he was pouting slightly, but was a little too peeved to care. It didn’t seem like Carlos got the memo, because the smile on his face only grew wider, morphing into an unabashed grin.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Just like when you told me how you thought microwaving frozen meat will make it defrost faster. What did the microwave ever do to you? The poor thing.” Carlos teased, laughing as TK didn’t even hesitate to shove his shoulder in reprimand, his own lips twitching upwards.

“You know, I’m only taking you for your word when you say you’re actually a good cook. I have yet to see for myself.” TK scowled, crossing his arms over his chest and definitely did not feel gleefully accomplished at how Carlos’ eyes seemed to linger on his arms.

“Let me show you.”

TK paused, looking up to see Carlos watching him with an unreadable look in his eyes, though he sounded determined. “I’m off until tomorrow morning, so if you’re free, would you like to have dinner with me?” Carlos continued, and TK noticed how he seemed to shift his weight slightly, fingers twitching at his sides as if – as if he was nervous.

And there it was.

The dancing around each other, the avoidance of the elephant in the room. Carlos had just offered him a steppingstone to cross the distance between their chasm of a raging river, and TK –

TK had a shift.

He didn’t, but he couldn’t – not like this.

They were simply two halves who happened to meet at the wrong time, placed into each other’s lives at the wrong moment, and…they needed time. Time to nurture whatever it was between them, time to just…be with each other.

TK wanted so badly to take Carlos’ offer, but after tonight…what then? They would still be 1743 miles apart, in two different worlds, living completely different lives.

A long-distance relationship between two first responders in two different states was bound for disaster, and TK would rather drown in his sea of emotions than mess up what he had with Carlos right now.

Swallowing back the overwhelming onslaught of emotions, TK looked down at his bare feet against the cold rubber floor sheets. He didn’t know they could actually feel cold, but right now, in this moment, it was like walking on ice.

“Carlos, I– I’m sorry. I can’t.” TK wasn’t sure if the other people in the room felt the temperature drop a couple of degrees. “I have a shift.” He winced at the blatant lie at the end, and if he could hear the lie plain as day, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Carlos had heard considering he was a police officer in training now.

The silence after that was deafening.

They’ve had their share of silence, but those were usually filled with warmth and comfort as they simply let themselves enjoy being in each other’s presence. Like that time when they sat next to each other, sharing bites of the other’s ice cream. Or that time when their hands grazed lightly against each other as they walked along the beach in the golden light of early sunset.

This kind of silence shattered the glass TK had sworn not to break.

“Okay.”

TK knew he shouldn’t have looked up.

Carlos had one hell of a poker face, but his eyes…

His eyes told him everything that was left unsaid.

The hurt. The reluctant acceptance. The frustrating trace of understanding.

TK hated the last one the most.

TK knew Carlos somewhat understood their predicament, but he had chosen to take the leap anyway- and TK had taken that bout of confidence away from him.

Sometimes life just outright sucks.

He wanted, so much, to explore whatever it was that was between them. He wanted to experience what it was like to see Carlos’ bed hair in the morning, witness his morning routine, know his quirks and find out his pet peeves. Most importantly, he wanted to get to know Carlos, heart and soul, through real-life conversation rather than some electronic device that could only do so much.

He wanted so many things, and yet, all that he could get out was,

“I need to go.”

And that was the last thing he said before they entered an entire month of silence.

The first time TK heard Taylor Swift’s song The Story of Us, he hadn’t quite understood the line ‘I never heard silence quite this loud.’

He hadn’t even noticed his phone being awfully quiet since Carlos had come into his life until the texts stopped.

One month.

One month of their not-relationship-but-also-kind-of-relationship hit a pause button.

An entire month of TK drafting out messages, checking the punctuation, saying them out loud to test the authenticity, before deleting the entire thing only to start again moments later.

He wasn’t even sure Carlos wanted to hear from him again, so his thumb always hovered over the ‘send’ button, overwhelming doubt surfacing at the last second to have him tossing his phone aside and giving up altogether.

Rinse and repeat.

So, when Carlos’ signature text tone finally sounded 32 days, 8 hours, 4 minutes, and 21 seconds after that fiasco of a conversation, he had practically leaped over the entire dining room table to get to his phone on the kitchen counter.

Carlos: Do you think fate could ever be kind to us?

TK felt the wetness slipping down his cheeks before realizing he was even crying at the simple question that had broken their wall of silence. Alone, he was free to laugh wetly as he pressed the heel of his hands to his eyes, wiping away the residual tears hastily. The hand that held his phone clenched it tighter, as if afraid the message would suddenly disappear, and he shakily tapped on the screen to open his keyboard.

TK: I don’t know about fate,

TK hesitated in typing out the next part, wanting to make sure that Carlos would understand, beyond all doubt, that he truly did believe in a someday.

They would have their time.

TK: but I think we make a pretty great team.

The next message that greeted TK through the screen had his lips stretch in a watery smile.

I believe in us.

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

It was a Wednesday.

A hot, humid, and sweat-inducing Wednesday.

TK didn’t know why he was at a waterpark of all places, but his father had decided it was about time to have some ‘father and son bonding time’ and since it was one of the hottest months of the year, a waterpark it was.

He hadn’t even bothered to check where the waterpark was even located, instead trusting Owen to get them there and back.

He probably should have checked the brochure.

“You know, I’m starting to think the universe just doesn’t want me to get to know you with clothes on.”

TK startled at the voice that has seamlessly established a home within his heart so close to him, and felt the familiar flutter in his chest when he was greeted with the face of the man he was irrevocably in love with.

The revelation should have honestly been staggering; the seemingly simple four-letter word always guarded close in lock and key. But it was Carlos, and TK wasn’t sure he knew how not to love him.

Was that even a possibility?

“Must be absolute torture.” TK tried for a teasing tone, but the amount of emotion that those words held weren’t missed by Carlos’ astute nature, and he graciously sank into the offered hug. This was their first meeting after their sort-of-fight, and no amount of HD phone screens could beat the 3-D figure of the police officer in his arms.

“On the contrary,” TK rolled his eyes, laughing all the same as Carlos’ eyebrows wiggled playfully. “I’m quite enjoying it.” Carlos reached up to gently grasp one of TK’s hands that had been wrapped around his shoulders, bringing it up to his lips to delicately kiss the back of it.

“Okay, you need to stop trying to make me swoon.” TK groaned, though the bright grin on his lips told the exact opposite, and Carlos knew it.

“It’s been sixty-seven days since our last meet. Leave me alone.” TK couldn’t help an endeared tilt of his head at the low whine in Carlos’ voice, leaning forward to press a quick but meaningful kiss to the corner of Carlos’ lips. He hid his smile at the slightly stunned look, squeezing the hand that was tightly held in his.

“If you’re going to be this sappy after not even a month of us being apart, maybe we should meet in a year and see how things go.” TK teased. He watched, pleased, as Carlos immediately looked like he had bitten into something sour.

“I don’t think I can handle that.” Carlos said seriously, and once again, TK was taken aback at the raw sincerity in the man standing with barely any breathing distance before him.

“I feel the same.” TK murmured, knowing that Carlos had heard the other meaning behind his words by the way he brushed his thumb over his hip slowly.

“So, what on earth are you doing at a water park a million miles away from New York?” Carlos asked, a welcome subject change, and TK snorted.

“One, we really need to work on your geography because I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing. Two, would you like the sappy answer, the creepy answer, or the complete boring truth?” TK stepped out of their hold slowly, though still keeping their hands intertwined. Carlos chuckled, gesturing for him to continue as he knew TK was going to tell him both anyway.

This man knew him too well, and it was a wonderous feeling.

“My heart felt yours beat in the rhythm of Venture River Water Park and knew our bond couldn’t survive if I didn’t answer in tune.” TK scrunched up his nose at how cheesy that sounded, but continued anyway. “My dad wanted some family bonding time and decided to drive to the furthest waterpark he could get away with without pissing me off. I minored in Hacking 101 and tried to find your Myspace from 2003 for your darkest secrets but instead found your Instagram through your LinkedIn and saw your story so I came here so I could see you.” Carlos’ eyebrows seemed to climb higher and higher at each answer, eyes widening comically at the last part.

“Do I even want to know which one is which?” Carlos asked slowly, expression switching rapidly from terrified to bewildered.

“They’re in no particular order. Nor are they discordant.” TK grinned, this time not even holding back his laugh at Carlos’ unimpressed stare.

“You know, you do have my number. You could have just asked me for my Instagram instead of going through that loophole.” TK rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“What fun would that be?”

“Are you deliberately seeing how many rules you can break in front of a cop? As a flirting tactic?” Carlos asked incredulously, and TK could see him looking just a touch impressed, if not a little disgruntled.

“I don’t know, is it working?” TK grinned, eyes shifting slightly to see his dad still surrounded by the same women five minutes ago, looking a little out of place but still smiling politely into whatever conversation they were having.

“Always.” His eyes drifted back to Carlos, feeling his heart thudding pleasantly in his chest at the fond look that hadn’t left his gaze. He was sure his own eyes were betraying every single emotion he was feeling but couldn’t say, so he opted to lean in closer to touch their foreheads together gently.

“I really am happy to see you again.” TK said quietly, not wanting to disrupt their bubble of intimacy.

“Me too, Terence Khalifa, me too.” TK immediately reared back at that, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the self-satisfied grin on Carlos’ face.

“Did you just call me Terence? Khalifa?” TK scowled as Carlos snickered, clearly enjoying his reaction.

“It’s been what, more than half a year? I thought I would try my chances.” Carlos laughed, and TK rolled his eyes, his lips twitching up helplessly into a smile.

“I’ll give you three chances.”

“Thor Klausen.”

“My dad may be an avid fan, but no, try again.”

“Tiger Kage. With a K, of course.”

“Are you kidding – “

“Not really, Tyler Kennedy.”

TK blinked, the rejection on the tip of his tongue before he realized that he couldn’t exactly reject that, since it was exactly what the letters stood for.

What –

“How did you – “ TK studied Carlos’ innocent expression intently for a moment, before huffing. “You knew.”

“When we went for ice cream the second time we met,” Carlos’ tone seemed to soften at the memory, and TK couldn’t help mirroring the warm smile. “you dropped your wallet. When I leaned down to pick it up for you, your driver's license slipped out slightly.”

TK furrowed his eyebrows, replaying that scene from a couple of months ago again mentally. Because what he remembered was –

“I asked you to hold my stuff when I had to go to the restroom. I never dropped anything…” TK’s eyes widened in realization, reaching forward to swat Carlos’ arm in reprimand.

“You sneaky SOAB!” Carlos raised an eyebrow at that, a questioning look in his eyes.

“SOAB?”

“Son of a bi-“

“TK!” Carlos quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes darting quickly to the group of kids making their way towards them, eyes narrowing as TK’s laughs were muffled in the palm of his hands.

“-businessman.” TK grinned cheekily when Carlos let go, nudging him lightly. When he lifted his gaze again, he noticed his father now alone, the women gone somewhere else and staring at him with a puzzled expression, eyes squinting in the sunlight to try and make out who he was with.

“You should probably get back.” Carlos said, following his line of sight, and TK swallowed past the pit growing in his stomach.

“Carlos, I–“

“I know.” Carlos murmured, reaching to squeeze his arm gently. “I know. I’ll see you soon.”

TK hadn’t realized he was wringing his hands together restlessly until a familiar warmth covered them, carefully stopping his movements.

“Hopefully, the next time we meet will be with all our clothes on.” TK joked weakly, but Carlos took it in stride as always.

“By now, I’m not sure I’ll even be able to recognize you with actual clothes on.” Carlos mused, eyes shining impishly, and TK shrugged, unperturbed.

“I’ll be sure to walk in my birthday suit more often down the street to minimize that problem.”

“Please don’t. I don’t want to have to arrest you for public indecency.” Carlos groaned, though TK knew he would do no such thing.

“All worth it if it means I’ll get to see you again.” TK whispered softly.

There was a moment where they both stared at each other, each wearing delicate smiles, before TK gave Carlos’ hands one last squeeze. Turning around, he didn’t look back as he headed back to where Owen was still standing, watching him with an unreadable expression.

He knew that all his resolve would crumble the second he turned around.

And so, he marched forward.

The news caught him off guard on a mildly chilly afternoon in August.

“Austin…as in Austin, Texas?” TK blinked at his father, who was standing a little way away from him, seeming almost nervous.

“Do you know of another Austin?”

“No dad, I was just…” TK trailed off, a whirlwind of thoughts swimming through his head.

Austin.

Texas.

Carlos.

“They asked for my assistance in re-building one of the firehouses there, Station 126, and I thought it would be a great opportunity,” Owen explained, running a hand through his well-kept hair anxiously, before holding up his hands.

“-Look, if it’s too sudden, we don’t have to-“

“When do we leave?” TK couldn’t help the excitement creeping up in his tone, and he knew his father was probably thinking he was crazy, agreeing to move halfway across the country so suddenly without even needing to process it a little bit.

“Are you sure? Austin isn’t a simple few hours drive from New York, son, if you need to think about it more – “

“Dad.” TK sighed in fond exasperation, walking closer to pull his father into a tight hug. “I’m sure. Very sure. I promise; besides, it might be good for us.” TK murmured, and felt his father squeeze him a little tighter, his originally tense muscles relaxing.

“Alright.”

TK was practically vibrating the entire week before the move, and although he was a little sad leaving his old team, they all understood and wished them the best. He knew Owen knew there was definitely something else he wasn’t telling him, but took his enthusiasm in stride.

In the end, he opted to keep the move a secret from Carlos for now, wondering if it would be a nice surprise when they finally did meet.

Officially.

Austin was…different.

For one thing, the service seemed to be a little better. TK could remember the numerous occasions where his phone had cut off randomly from the plethora of skyscrapers blocking signals.

So far, everyone had been very welcoming, and he was already getting along with the new crew that they were slowly putting together. They were in the middle of playing 10 questions, and Paul had been amidst his explanation of why he had the entire collection of the Sherlock Holmes series when there was a sound of wheels against gravel in the entrance bay.

“That must be Austin PD checking up on us.” Owen hummed offhandedly, and TK immediately felt his heart leap to his throat.

“Looks like your explanation will have to wait for later, Strickland.” Judd patted Paul’s shoulder in passing, and TK followed quietly after his crewmates as they headed down the stairs. He knew he shouldn’t have his hopes up, because Austin PD wasn’t just consisted of Carlos alone, and it could literally be anyone.

“Captain Strand? I’m officer Reyes, it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Okay no, that voice was definitely –

The world seemed to sharpen in the display of wondrous colours as he laid his eyes on Carlos, standing in his police uniform in front of his father, who was currently shaking his hand.

To think he actually thought Carlos couldn’t look even better, he just had to show up in full uniform.

TK hid a small smile when he saw Carlos looking a little confused, obviously recognizing Owen from somewhere but couldn’t place where quite yet.

“Likewise.” Owen smiled politely, and TK had to hold back a laugh when his dad’s eyes widened slightly in recognition, obviously putting together whatever was about to happen in his head as the pieces all came into place. “These are some of the members of my team. Marjan, Judd, Paul, Mateo,” everyone lifted a hand or offered the officer a kind smile at the introduction, with Judd giving Carlos a fist bump.

“-and TK.”

And that was when surprised brown eyes clashed with brilliant green.

TK stepped forward slowly, chuckling softly at how wide Carlos’ eyes were, multiple emotions surfacing one after the other as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, officer. Fully-clothed this time.” TK teased, and that was what finally brought Carlos out of his stupor.

“So, TK Strand, huh?”

Right, practically a year of knowing each other, and they forgot to somehow throw their respective last names in the list. Carlos’ voice sounded a little emotional, and honestly, TK could relate, from the way his own body wanted to be as close to Carlos as physically possible, but they had time for all that later.

Right now…

“That should be my line, Carlos Reyes.”

They stepped forward at the same time, engulfed in each other's arms as reality finally dawned on them.

The distance between them was 0 miles, 0 states, and an abundant amount of time.

They finally got their chance.

#Tarlos #Tarlos fic #tk x carlos #Just a little something

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abizarreyodelingincident · 4 years

Text

Linked Universe: Our Nightly Confidant 1

Wind From Home

Twilight considers himself a simple man. A farmer at heart, even if he has the hands of a hero. He's grown in a small village, where everyone knows everything about everyone else. Community is a sense that's been cultivated in him as well as pumpkins on a sky island (whatever that saying means).

He loves his brothers and his sort of dad. This quest... he doesn't want to say it's a blessing. It isn't. The monsters threaten many. Their group hasn't always saved everyone. It's no blessing that hurts so many. But he can't help rejoice the opportunity to meet so many heroes. To find his place in the legacy of the Hero of Courage.

As a Hylian from a human village, he's never worried about his place, but he does find peace in belonging to a group with no such innate distance.

He's one of the oldests, weird as that is. Most of the group are like little siblings to him. Weird, insane and irreverent little shits that give him grey hair. No, he's not thinking exclusively about Wild (Wild's a special case). He's attuned to their moods.

Four asked if he had a special sense for this, the second time he'd done it. A 'special' sense, he had insisted in the middle of their training camp, meaning wolf senses. No. Twilight doesn't feel one side of him bleeds into the other. It's not like that.

It's not what makes his eyes trail after Wind today. His youngest brother (barely losing to Colin by a season) is currently laughing his ass off on a tree stump over Warriors tripping on Legend's items. It is denied, not very convincingly, that the items weren't left there on purpose. Little shits, he's telling you.

The truth is more down to earth, the way Twilight likes it. Dogs train themselves to recognize hylian expressions. They know what sadness and joy and anger look like all too well. They know when to cheer their big two-legged friends. And a wolf? Well, a wolf better learn fast the difference between a real smile and a fake if it doesn't want to end up stuck in a bear trap.

***

First watch is always a bit nerve wracking. Unlike second and third watch, Twilight can't just shift into wolf form to sniff out enemies and make sure the whole forest is secure. Links don't fall asleep easily. Legend wakes up at the slightest noise for the first two hours he looks asleep. Time might just stare at the sky the whole night, not getting a wink of sleep. Sometimes, Twilight himself just... can't stop thinking. Wondering where she is now. If she's alright. If Ordon's safe without him. Once in a while, he'll close his eyes and hear Lumi crying, and Uli's quiet steps to shush her.

The other half of the time, it's staying asleep that's the problem. The Goddesses know they all have plenty of material to fuel their nightmares (he's never forgetting Yeta's face, he's resigned to that).

When the moon's path has almost reached its zenith, Twilight hears the first few moans. His heart drops. He hoped. But he's not surprised. Sometimes, the heart can't take the weight of the mask people plaster on.

It starts small. It always does.

For a time, it's mostly sniffles and choked sobs. Then a small 'I'm sorry.' Twilight grimaces. None of them show their scar easily. The deep scars, at least. Wind wouldn't appreciate an audience. Unfortunately, Twilight can't exactly leave. The next best thing however is to try and cut it short.

So, decision made, he creeps around camp, places himself behind Wind and shakes his shoulder. (Carefully. The group collectively learned not to take sleeping Links lightly. At least, Sky had laughed out the black eye with grace.)

“Hey, Sailor,” he whispers, hoping none of the others react. “It's your turn.”

In truth, it's a touch early for that. But he knows he made the right call when Wind rubs his eyes and freezes at the wet feeling on his fingers. He'd been in the middle of turning around, but he immediately fakes a stumble and buries his face in his rolled up blankets instead. It's a good cover to wipe tears without being too obvious.

Twilight would be impressed if that didn't send pangs of worry through his chest. Oh, Wind...

“Mrm,” Wind mumbles. “One minute?”

“Sure, I gotta take a leak anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, piss off.” Wind waves him off from under the blanket.

Twilight smiles to himself. He should ask Wind to direct a play next time they visit his Hyrule. Queen Zelda was always in need of entertainment for the stuffy dignitaries. Jackasses couldn't crack a smile if they were whipped.

That faint irritation pushes him toward the end of the camp line, out of the clearing. Once he's out of sight and hearing range, he grabs onto his cursed necklace and sneaks through the underbrush. His senses make navigating through the twigs and branches child's play, and the lack of any pig-like stench reassures him that there's no malice-infected monster around. In less than a minute, he has circled around the camp and positioned himself the near opposite of where his hylian form left through. Generally, people don't make the association if he leaves a few minutes tick by. Out of sight, out of mind.

It's a bit embarrassing how well that trick works.

Wind's head is turned in the direction he disappeared earlier. Skittish, like a rabbit looking out of its hole. Wind must be waiting for him to return from his manly business, which is a bit of a lost bet at the moment. Seconds tick with only the faint brushing of leaves on his fur and the nightly wind for company. Then, all at once, Wind stands up and stomps his way to the stump Twilight had been using for his turn at the watch.

“Damn it!” Wind curses under his breath. The tears are held at bay, barely. “There's no way he didn't see... calm down, calm down dammit, he's gonna come back soon!”

A small boot kicks off some dirt. Twilight flinches in his hiding spot. That's more anger than expected. He's not sure what to do with that. None of them like vulnerability. None of them are used to being allowed vulnerability. He's worked on Wild and Time for a while now, and he's making progress, even if it's only them opening up to him.

It's that same instinct that pushes him to walk through the bush and reveal himself. He's as non-threatening as a large wolf can be, but Wind still whirls around with his sword drawn. Recognition is a second slower.

“Wolfie!” Wind whisper-yells. “Bad dog! I almost skewered you!”

Twilight raises one eyebrow, unimpressed. He is most certainly not a bad dog, and he is quite experienced at dodging last second hits by flailing, surprised preys. Not that he even thought of Wind as prey, never, but Wind didn't have to imply he'd be that stupid.

“Oi, what are you looking at?” Wind grumbles, dropping back on his tree stump. “Stupid dog...”

Twilight fights the urge to growl. He's here to help, not pick a fight. Unfortunately, his struggle had been obvious, because Wind deflates and sheaths his sword.

“Sorry. It's just... I'd been doing so well so far,” he whispers. “Even if they're big mother cuccos about me sometimes, they still listened to me.”

Twilight feels his tail curl between his legs. He knows he's overprotective. He knows it's annoying Wind, but he can't help it when every other time they fight, he sees Colin rushing into the path of King Bulblin.

“Hey, hey, don't be sad.” Wind cajoles, patting his knee like an invitation.

Twilight's too happy to question the change. He plops his chin on Wind knees and looks up. Small, calloused hands run into his fur.

“Do you have family, Wolfie?”

… What? For a second, he slips out of grasp just to better stare at Wind. Then, he sniffs his breath for a second, and whilst there's a fair amount of onions there (dental hygiene, Sailor!), no traces of booze anywhere. So, he softly woofs, tilting his head to the side.

“Do you have a she-wolf and a litter of little pups that trip all over themselves? I bet you're a good dad, aren't you?”

Twilight can't help the shocked whine that burst out of his throat, nor the flattened ears on top of his head. Him? A dad? He was far too young for that! Being a brother to Wild alone was trouble enough as it was, fatherhood remained firmly beyond his grasp. Besides... it wasn't like he had someone with whom...

“Aww,” Wind cooed, scratching behind his ears, “I didn't want to scare you, Wolfie. I just thought you take good care of us, s'all. I bet you'll be a good dad someday.”

Flattered as he is, he can't help puff and huff into Wind's shirt. He's a noble beast, talked down to like a lap dog. At least, he successfully distracted Wind from what nightmare he had.

Together, they listened to the crackling embers, moving only when the flames needed another log or when a critter stumbled too close to camp (a very curious rat that scampered when it met Twilight's eyes).

“How much did he drink?” Wind mutters, a bit later. “Did he pass out with his breeches down?”

A low growl rumbles into his chest. The disadvantage of others not knowing he's Wolfie is hearing that kind of crap about himself. He's a misunderstood man condemned by the judgemental Links of the world.

“What? Don't like him? Twilight's okay. Most of the time. Like, he saw me cry. I know he did. He knows I know, but he still pretended not to... you know?”

Twilight's best deadpan glare expresses that yes, he knows. More importantly, he puts a paw on Wind's chest, making a small inquisitive noise. Why? Did he need to share it with a very innocent wolf that doesn't judge anyone and anything except Warriors' morning hair?

The fragile grin on Wind's face falters. His eyes dart around. “I... it's not like... You won't laugh, right?”

Twilight nods emphatically.

“It's nothing too bad. I just miss my sister and my grandma.”

Oh, Wind...

“... Please don't tell the others,” Wind said in a tiny voice. “They already have a hard enough time taking me seriously. I don't want them to think I'm being a baby who cries about his family.”

The confusion can't overtake the lance of shame and heartbreak that spears through Twilight's body. Had... had they pushed Wind into this? Made him think that because they hide their tears, they'd laugh at his?! Goddesses... Uli would smack him with her wooden spoon for making a mess like this.

Again.

He might have been a bit overbearing once his quest had ended. Colin had been happy about the attention... the first three days or so. Afterward... well... Uli and Rusl had taken him aside, put their feet down and helped him let go of his dead grip on his little brother's safety. And half the monsters he'd faced had nothing on the challenge of letting Colin make his own mistake. He thought he'd gotten better about this.

But he might have forgotten Wind was not nearly as tolerant or hesitant as Colin.

“I'm a Hero too. I'm strong. Why would I cry over nothing? My grandma and my sister are fine. I bet we'll be portaled in my Hyrule soon and I'll have worried for nothing and Twilight and Warriors will be right to treat me like a fragile little boy again.”

He's not. They all know he's not. He's just... the youngest. The most cheerful, most innocent, most... most well-adjusted of them all, and they want so badly for Wind to keep that. He's a wonderful young man. They're all so proud, so impressed with him.

He's gonna have a few conversations with Warriors and Time tomorrow. Goddesses!

“Hey, Wolfie... I know you don't like being around too long, but... Do you mind staying a bit?”

Twilight chuffs, stubbornly burying his face even deeper in his little brother's shoulder. As if someone would be able to pry him off Wind before morning.

***

“Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?”

Wind looks up sharply, startled but unwilling to admit it. He'd been polishing that long view of his by himself. “What?” he says, and there's an implied 'the fuck?!' in there. Pirates...

Twilight brushes the grass and then sits on the hill, staring past the coast at the red sun. “My father told me that, the day before I left on my quest. Neither of us knew then I'd have a quest soon, of course. But it stuck with me.”

For a long time, Wind's expression shifted between fascination, embarrassment and a bit of confusion. Twilight really needed to teach him how to maintain a poker face before he played cards with Warriors again. Still, there's no rush.

For all that it tears him in half, dusk also has a way to sooth his old aches. It's a peaceful time. A moment when the day dies, when the living settle and close their doors.

“It's the horizon, for me,” Wind admits. “When I... the first time, I'd never ever left my island, and all of a sudden, I had to leave because that huge ass bird had kidnapped my sister. So I had to leave my home for the first time, and I was on Tetra's boat, staring at Outset Island shrinking and shrinking till it was gone. Even when I pulled out my sister's long view, all I could find was the waves of the Great Sea.”

“Ah, a boar and a bulblin got my brother, my childhood friend and a bunch of kids. Knocked me right out with a hit to the head.”

Wind pulled his lips together and narrowed his eyes. “Well... I didn't get hit or anything, but Tetra threw me out of a cannon so I could infiltrate the fortress. Hit my face pretty hard too. That counts?”

“It wasn't a competition!” Twilight laughs, ruffling Wind's hair. It causes a flinch, and that's the light-hearted mood gone. Great. Twilight breathes through his nose. “You know, sometimes, I really want to smack my dad upside the head.”

Wind blinks. “... Okay?”

“Every goshdarn time I see the sun set, I remember him and my mom and my brother and sister, and... home. Every sunset reminds me of home. Makes me miss it so bad. Now I can't help feel that strange sadness every time.”

Silence.

A snort.

“Goddesses damned!” Wind wheezes out through his laugh. “He...”

“Yup,” Twilight says, leaning his chin on his fist. “He didn't think that one through. Bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, ain't it? So, I do want to make him think before he spouts philosophy at me.”

“Hey, hey, Twilight!” Wind says, impish, tugging on his sleeves. Then, the second he has Twilight's attention, he puts on the most serious face he ever wore. “Do you ever feel a strange sadness... as you put on your pants?”

“You little shit,” he says, brimming with affection.

Wind, not to be undone, jumps to his feet. “Do you ever feel a strange sadness... as you drink milk?”

“Oi,” Twilight stands after him, darting right after the brat.

“Not the strange sadness of being chased by a goatherd!”

Two minutes. Two minutes and six variations of the most profound saying his farmer dad told him. Butchered. Butchered like a lame goat in winter. Twilight is both furious and delighted and it might be why, when he does catch Wind, he unleashes the noogie from hell.

Wind's screams, so closely related to that of a dying piglet, are very satisfying. Worth the kicks to the ribs.

And when retribution is served, Twilight shifts the hold into a one-sided hug with the smooth grace of a man who regularly pretends not to be the wolf that is never seen with him. Wind freezes, realization sharp on his face when he notices the tears gathering in Twilight's eyes.

“But the first thing I'd do if I saw him tomorrow... is hug him. Tell him I'm glad he's okay and that I missed him. Then I'd smack him and run for the hills, because Rusl happens to be the only guy in my village that knows how to use a sword.”

After a whole body shudder, Wind gives up and buries himself in his big brother's shoulder.

#Linked Universe #Linkeduniverse #LU Twilight #LU Wind #Wolf Link

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years

Text

GF - How A Star Is Born ch.VIII

A Hercules AU, founded by @evaroze, whom this fic is a gift for. I hope y’all like it!

ch.VII - ch.IX

AO3 link

~~~~~~~~~~

A year after Dipper’s first victory and it felt like Gideon had died a thousand deaths.

Dipper became the most famous hero in all of Greece. He defeated every single monster or villain he had come up against, from angry warthogs that he served to the king on a grill, to wicked shapeshifters, to mad ex-girlfriends of Stan’s. No foe could stand against this hero in any way, shape, or form, and unfortunately this was very bad news for Gideon and Bill.

Bill left his minion alone to smoke and recover from being burned alive, shaking with red anger as he watched the fallen god press his hands into concrete with his teacher by his side, smiling proudly. “I can’t believe this! How is that little twerp still alive?!”

“W-W-We still have time…” Gideon whimpered, curled up and lying on his side.

“I’ve got twenty-four hours to get rid of this bozo!” Bill screamed as he towered over his slave. “The scheme I’ve been setting up for thousands of years is going up in smoke thanks to you! And all you can say is WE’VE STILL GOT TIME?!” And Bill snapped his fingers once more and Gideon was engulfed in flames, crying and yelling in unbearable pain.

Pacifica, with her back to the chaos, was smiling at the hero and enjoying the show all around her. “Tough luck, looks like Dippin’ Dots is hitting every curve you throw at him.”

Bill’s red instantly went away as he stared at the young woman before him. His eyes squinted happily and he floated to her side. “Hm, maybe I haven’t been throwing the right curves at him…”

“Don’t even go there.”

“See, Llama, he’s gotta have a weakness, everybody’s got one. We just need to find out Pinetree’s.”

“I totally did my part,” Pacifica scoffed. “Make Marshmallow over there do it.”

“He couldn’t handle him as an infant.” Bill sneered. “I need someone who can… handle him as a man.”

“Look, I’ve sworn off man-handling.” Pacifica snapped and walked away.

“Well, hey that’s good!” Bill laughed, making the young woman stop. “Cuz that’s what gotcha into this jam in the first place, isn’t it? You sold your soul to me to save your father’s life. And how did the guy thank you? By throwing you out when no one wanted to marry you and give dowry? He hurt you real bad, didn’t he? It hurt that no one wants the bratty little Llama, didn't it?”

“I get it, I learned my lesson, okay?” Pacifica croaked as she held her forehead.

“Hey, hey,” Bill cooed and placed a friendly hand on either one of her shoulders. “I tell you what, since I feel sorry for you, I’ll make you a new offer. You give me the key to taking down Wonderboy, and I’ll give you the thing you want more than anything in the whole Multiverse: your freedom.”

Pacifica’s eyes widened and her pupils shrunk as her mouth hung open.

~~~~~~~~~~

Through the fast-pacing, slightly-overwhelming year, the Temple of the Gods became Dipper’s sanctuary. At night, he would sneak away from prying eyes and visit his family, feeling all of his stress and pressure melt away.

Now not only bound to a small journal, Dipper and Mabel could talk more freely. Even more so now that Dipper funded a statue of the young muse to be put in the temple, and now a Mabel made of stone could hug him and punch his shoulder and talk and skip around him, even if she couldn’t feel his warmth or if she risked breaking bones, but he had god-like strength, so who cares? Their bond became even stronger as they swapped stories and got to know each other very well. Many times Mabel would happily sit criss-cross and listen and watch as her twin brother retold his victories to her.

This evening, however, Dipper seemed very tired. He sat at the foot of the huge statue of the Ruler of the Gods and Mabel looked down at him softly before sitting next to him in her statued-form. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

Dipper blinked and shook his head. “N-Nothing!”

Mabel smiled cockily and poked his ribs to lightly tickle him. “C’mon, you can’t hide anything from me. What’s up?”

The young hero sighed and leaned back with his hands on the steps behind him. “It’s just… I’m the most famous person of all in Greece, right?”

“Right.”

“And I’ve beaten every monster I’ve met, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m even an action-figure.” Dipper added as he threw his hands up in the air.

“Yeah,” Mabel said slowly. “So?”

Dipper looked at his long-lost sister and asked her heavily, “So why am I not a god?”

Mabel’s eyes widened in realization before she looked down at her long dress. “Oh.”

“To rejoin the gods, I gotta become a true hero.” Dipper restated. “What, am I missing something? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Mabel said quickly and patted his shoulder reassuringly. “You’ve been doing great! And hey, you’ve only been at it for, what, a year? You’re just… not there yet. Remember, there’s a difference between being a hero and a true hero, but you’ll get there one day, I know you will.”

Dipper smiled at her and said, “Thanks, Mabel. You’re right. I just have to be patient.”

“Besides, you’ve got plenty of time.” Mabel reminded him with a giggle. “It’s not like you’re gonna die soon or something.”

Dipper laughed alongside her, though he couldn’t quite shake the desire that he would rather be home sooner or later.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper walked back to his very large house after going through the lush garden. He had tried not to have a home so big but he had earned so much gold that even after donating to the orphanage he grew up in and many other causes like feeding the poor and providing housing for the homeless, he still had more money than he knew what to do with and Stan seemed to really enjoy living in the lap of luxury, so they met halfway and had a very nice house that was big but not so big that they required five maids.

Dipper entered his home and could see candlelight coming from down the hall. The old man must still be awake. The young hero smiled and moved down the hall to tease his teacher, but as he turned a corner, he was met with something that scared him much more than any monster.

“STAN!” Dipper dashed to him and was on his knees, the old man lying on the cold floor with a dripping candle by his side, a miracle the house hadn’t been caught on fire thanks to being made of stone. “Stan, can you hear me?!”

Dipper helped the unconscious man sit up to get a good look at him. He appeared more dead than alive, but the hero refused to believe it. He scooped the old man up in his arms and ran as fast as he could to the doctor, praying to the gods that Stan would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel was humming to herself as she emerged from her room, having finished meditating and projecting herself onto a statue to talk to her brother. She grew worrisome, however, when she saw her great-uncle sitting at the front steps of the temple, holding his face, covering his eyes, and breathing heavily, like he was struggling with his emotions.

“Grunkle Ford,” Mabel said softly as she hurried to his side and put kind hands on his shoulders. “What’s the matter?”

He looked up at his niece with heavy, shining eyes that refused to cry. “It’s Stanley. He’s running out of time.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“These things happen,” A doctor calmly explained. “As a person ages their bodies start to fail them gradually over time. From what we can tell, Stan had a heart attack. Slight damage to the heart, nothing extremely life-threatening, but a good sign that his time is running out. I wouldn’t quite count the days yet, but I would also advise you value your time with him while you can. I’m so sorry.”

Dipper was now left alone to dwell on the news. He knew Stan wasn’t exactly young, but he always seemed unstoppable, so lively, that the idea of him dying was scary and already made the young hero very mournful. He made himself get up from his stool in the hallway to enter the door his teacher was in, but he was surprised to find Stan standing up and slipping on his cloak. “There you are, let’s blow this joint already.”

“Stan!” Dipper scolded. “What are you doing out of bed?!”

“What, I’m fine now, kid.” Stan waved Dipper’s worries away casually. “Relax. Let’s just go home, I got a bottle of expired grape juice waiting for me.”

“Stan, this is serious!”

“Look, I don’t blame you for being worried, but I need you to trust me on this.” Stan said firmly with kind brown eyes, giving Dipper a firm pat on the shoulder. “I’m fine, okay?”

“But…” Dipper allowed Stan to lead the way out of the room and throughout the hospital for the quiet night. “But… you’re dying.”

“In a way we all are, kid.”

“But…”

“Dipper, listen to me.” Stan interrupted and gave the young hero a stern look as they walked down the street of Thebes. “I’m an old man, I’ve lived a very long life. I’ve known I was dying for a long time, but none of that matters to me. All that matters is that you become a true hero and get to be with your family, whether I get to see it or not.”

“But… I want you to see it.” Dipper sighed. He was very tired. He could feel so much on his shoulders, he always felt like the entire world was on his shoulders, and as they days wore on it was getting harder to ignore. He sat at a large fountain in town-square and looked at his mentor heavily. “I know you won’t be around forever, but… you’re like family to me, Stan. I want you to see me become a true hero. I want to make you proud. I want you to see me in the stars like you want.”

“Hey hey,” Stan sat next to him slowly and patted his back. “Way to get all sappy on me, hero. And where’s all this coming from? I am proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you. Since day one, I’ve been so proud of you and happy I got to teach you. I know you’ll make it someday, I know you’ll be up in the stars and be with your sister, and that’s good enough for me.”

Dipper smiled sadly, a bit overwhelmed but still appreciative. “Still, I… Am I doing something wrong? I thought I’d be a true hero by now? What more can I do?”

“Being a true hero is something you gotta discover for yourself.” Stan said and poked at Dipper’s strong chest. “You gotta look inside all this squishy stuff. Dig a little deeper. But you got something I’ve never seen in anybody, and I know that’s gonna make you into a god someday, just you wait and see.”

Dipper still couldn’t shake the feeling like he didn’t want to wait for someday to come, but he still smiled and thanked Stan for his words.

~~~~~~~~~~

Miraculously, despite his lifeline being short, Stan was just as energetic and lively as always the next day. Dipper tried to talk him into resting, but the old man refused and was there for all of Dipper’s obligations. Stan was right by his side for the opening of the newest gym, he happily partake in lunch with Dipper and the mayor of Thebes, and in the afternoon they went home to change into nicer togas for a modeling show.

Stan said something about a quick nap and went to his room to snooze the warm afternoon away. Dipper chuckled and was nearly scared to death when a soothing voice from beside a pillar said, “Oh this is what heroes do on their days off?”

Dipper grinned and greeted her warmly. It had been a long time since he had last seen her. “Wow, Pacifica! It’s great to see you again, I… I missed you.”

Pacifica approached slowly and smiled slyly at him. “Thanks, Dippin’ Dots. Man, you look good, but rough. When was the last time you had a break?”

“Oh, I rest, Stan…”

“You know I never really thanked you for saving my life, did I?” Pacifica interrupted. “How about dinner?”

As much as a date with such a beautiful girl made Dipper want to do a backflip, his immediate concern was leaving Stan alone for too long. “Oh, I dunno, Stan’s got the day booked and…”

“He’ll be okay, he’s taking a nap, isn’t he?” Pacifica asked. “He can rest, you can get some fresh air and some food. Come on, my treat.”

Dipper smiled sheepishly and she put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, baby blue eyes sparkling at him like a beautiful spring sky. Swallowing, the young smitten hero nodded. “Okay, sure.”

#GF #gravity falls #gravity falls au #gift #fanfiction #stangst

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blueberrylemontea-fanfic · 4 years

Note

Billy knowing he is Steve's first with a man and he loves it, but Steve wants Billy looking at him with the light of a lamp to see his face or the light of the moon.

Love this!! Sorry it took so long, this is my first ever ask and it was harder than I thought 😅 Really hope you like it!

SMUT below, you have been warned.

***********

Glowing Lights

They had been dating for a little while now, actually dating.

They had to hide from practically everyone, sure, but there were some people that knew and couldn’t be happier for them, even if they knew their own parents never would. But that didn’t matter.

It still hurt, sure, but they had each other.

Billy had been with guys before, even had the occasional boyfriend back in Cali, but it was never anything serious. He’d never experienced anything like this.

He never thought he could be that deliciously, deliriously happy. Never imagined that he could feel that way, that it was okay to feel that way, but when he was with Steve, it was like he was invincible.

Before Billy, Steve had never really even thought about a guy like that.

But then, Billy blazed into town with his piercing blue eyes and his electrifying energy. He took Steve’s breath away every time he looked at him, and when he touched him Steve couldn’t remember his own damn name.

He was gorgeous. Just absolutely gorgeous.

The most gorgeous human being Steve had ever met and he fell head over heels, even if he didn’t dare to admit it to himself at first.

But Billy had won him over.

Steve had picked up on his flirtatious behavior, even if Billy tried to cover it up with punches afterwards, and after a while, he had started to flirt back.

He noticed how Billy had tensed up at first, scared that there might actually be something more than flirting there. Billy had been burned one too many times before, if he wasn’t careful Neil would make them move again, would make sure he’d never see Steve again.

Steve had no such fears, sure his parents would not be on board, but he stopped caring about that long ago.

And Steve had always been brave, and sure of what he wanted, and he knew he had never wanted anyone as much as he’d wanted Billy.

So one day, when Billy had had him pinned down on the floor again after a brawl, and drawled ‘How many times’ve I gotta tell you to plant your feet, pretty boy?’ Steve had just snapped.

He was hypnotized by those stormy eyes and the way Billy called him pretty boy, and before he knew it, Steve had pulled Billy down by his neck and crashed his lips on his.

Billy had been shocked, he’d been terrified, but he’d also never wanted anything more in his life.

He’d fallen for Steve a long time ago, but he didn’t dare dream that the feeling was mutual. So when Steve kissed him, it had at once been the scariest and most glorious feeling of his life.

They’d started their relationship on shaky legs, both of them scared of the implications of them dating. If the wrong person found out about them, they’d most likely lose each other.

By then, they couldn’t picture life without each other anymore, which is why they had always been very careful with their affection. It was a lot of Billy sneaking through Steve’s window late at night, sneaking kisses in the dark, like they were right now.

They were sprawled on Steve’s bed, entangled in a passionate kiss.

Steve’s hands were trailing his fingers over Billy’s glorious abs, thank fuck the guy never bothered buttoning his shirt. His leg was wrapped around Billy’s waist, feeling his hard-on growing in his pants as Steve writhed against him.

They were both panting when Billy broke the kiss, his lips immediately attaching themselves to Steve’s neck. Steve moaned loudly as Billy sucked on his neck, careful not to leave any visible hickeys. "Shit, Billy…“

Billy loved it when Steve talked, it only spurred him on.

His warm, big hand rested on Steve’s hips, his thumbs tracing the skin where his shirt had risen up.

Steve pushed Billy’s shirt over his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. Billy followed suit, pulling Steve’s shirt over his head in one swift motion, reaching down to undo his jeans. It was a quick flurry of clothes as they kicked out of their remaining clothes, leaving them both naked under the covers.

Billy was still trailing kisses down Steve’s neck, moving his lips lower now, nipping at his collarbone lightly, his hand stroking Steve’s length. Steve whimpered under his touch.

"Fuck, tiger, I want you” he moaned.

“I know you do, pretty boy” Billy grinned smugly, stroking Steve more quickly, moving down the bed to settle on his knees between Steve’s legs the same way he’d done so many times before, but Steve stopped him with a slight shake of his head.

“Want you to fuck me” Steve whispered, his cheeks turned pink.

Billy’s heart rate picked up, his breath hitching in his throat.

He pulled away from Steve, who whined at the lack of touch. “Really?"

Steve nodded his head vigorously.

"Baby, are you sure?” Billy didn’t want to rush him, but the thought of fucking Steve drove him out of his mind. Knowing that no one had ever touched Steve like that before, that he was gonna be the first - the only - one to open up this whole new world of pleasure for Steve turned him on like nothing ever had.

“Never been more sure” Steve was smiling brightly, his lust-blown eyes darker than Billy had ever seen them.

“Fuck, Stevie” Billy pulled Steve closer, kissing him roughly, desperately. Steve answered, just as needy.

Billy moved down on him slowly, sliding both his hands and mouth down Steve’s chest achingly slowly. He gave Steve a few lazy strokes before he dropped down and ran his tongue over Steve’s hole, making the boy jump.

He licked Steve eagerly, opening him up with his tongue. Steve whined when Billy pulled back, and Billy grinned savagely at the sound.

He loved how Steve always made it so clear he wanted him, it felt so good to be needed like that.

He pressed two fingers to Steve bottom lip “Suck"

Steve’s eyes widened, but he took Billy’s order without so much as a second thought, drawing his fingers into his mouth and bobbing his head on them like he would Billy’s cock.

"Such a needy little slut, aren’t you princess?"

Steve loved it. Absolutely loved it when Billy called him names.

He nodded eagerly when Billy pulled his fingers from his mouth, dripping with his saliva. "Only for you, tiger” he smiled coyly.

“That’s right, baby. You’re mine” Billy was practically growling, his low, gravelly voice dripping with want.

He traced his wet finger over Steve’s hole before pushing in slowly. Steve moaned loudly, leaning in to Billy’s touch. Steve’s eager mewls sounded like music to Billy’s ears, he was never one to hold back.

He added another finger and chuckled as Steve gasped out “Oh shit, yes, Billy!"

"You like that princess?"

Steve nodded his head furiously, writhing underneath him.

"So damn eager and I’m only just getting started” Billy grinned mischievously as he curled his fingers, knowing that Steve would jolt when his fingers touched that spot.

Steve moaned something incoherent as he arched his back up off the mattress. “So pretty for me, princess” Billy purred as he fucked Steve on his fingers.

“You think you’re ready for me, gorgeous?"

Steve nodded "Yes! Please, tiger, wanna feel you inside me"

Billy laughed at Steve’s eager moans, that pretty mouth was going to kill him someday, Billy just knew it. Steve’s pleas always went straight to his cock, making him twitch impatiently.

He reached over to Steve’s nightstand where he knew the boy kept a tube of lube, hidden under a bunch of magazines.

"Turn on the light” Steve whispered.

“What?"

"Turn on the light, tiger, I wanna see you. Want you to see me"

Billy was used to the dark, all his previous relationships had been like that, hasty and anxious, scared to get caught, but Steve wanted it to be different with him.

He wanted Billy to see him, didn’t want there to be a shred of a doubt that he was nothing like those previous guys.

Steve didn’t want to be just another body. He wanted this to mean something. He wanted to mean something to Billy.

Billy switched on the light, bathing them in the soft yellow hue and immediately he knew why Steve had asked, because the boy underneath him looked utterly beautiful.

It had been so ingrained into Billy that the way he was wired was shameful, that it was somehow wrong and disgusting, but as he saw Steve’s adoring, lust-blown eyes focused so unwaveringly on him, he had never felt less ashamed of anything in his life.

"You’re gorgeous"

He kissed Steve deeply, before he took his hand and poured a generous amount of lube into it. "Gonna get me nice and ready for you, baby?" Steve nodded eagerly and wrapped his hand around Billy’s cock, rubbing the lube all over his length.

Billy gave him one last kiss before he lined himself up with Steve’s hole, pressing his head against him.

"You’re sure, Stevie?"

"So sure, Billy, I want you, baby” Steve whined.

"I want you too, pretty boy. Remember to breath, okay?“ Billy whispered before he pushed in slowly.

He gave Steve plenty of time to adjust to his length, making sure he was okay. When he bottomed out Steve was biting his lip, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay, baby?"

Steve nodded, a little shakily "Yeah, yeah, I think so. M’ just so full, fuck, tiger, you’re so big"

Billy smiled widely, because Steve looked so desperate for him, such a whimpering mess already and it was all for him…

Steve whined again "Baby, please move, need you to fuck me, please"

"Fuck, I love it when you beg for me, princess" Billy chuckled, because Steve immediately did it again, letting out a string of curses and pleas that Billy couldn’t ignore.

He started moving his hips, fucking Steve slowly. "Fuck, pretty boy, you’re so tight” he moaned, rolling his hips into Steve.

“Harder” Steve moaned.

“You want it harder, princess? You sure about that?"

Steve groaned, throwing his head back "Fuck me harder, tiger. C’m on, Billy, baby, stop teasing me…"

Steve was clawing at his back, moving his hips to try and create more friction.

So fucking needy, Billy thought, but he couldn’t deny he loved it. He picked up his pace, driving his dick into Steve roughly, and if he’d thought Steve had been vocal before, it was nothing compared to now.

He was moaning loudly, cursing out Billy’s name at the top of his lungs. He was panting and writhing underneath him, looking like heaven on earth, with his rolled back eyes and his hair slick against his forehead.

"Fuck, Stevie, you’re so pretty, baby, so fucking gorgeous” Billy sighed, and Steve looked up at him with those big, glossy doe eyes

“Y’re gonna make me cum if you keep talking like that, Billy"

Billy wanted nothing more than to make him cum, so he kept talking.

"You’re so hot, pretty boy… You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, noticed it the first time I saw you. M’ so lucky a guy as pretty as you would want me” He whispered in Steve’s ear, punctuating his words with sloppy kisses to Steve’s neck.

Steve’s nails dug into his shoulders and he screamed out Billy’s name as he came, coating both of their abdomens in his cum.

Billy knew he wasn’t going to last long either, the way Steve was clenching around him so sweet was making his vision blur. Steve was still shuddering, panting in Billy’s ear.

“Fuck, princess” Billy moaned when Steve latched his lips onto his neck.

Steve could feel Billy’s thrusts getting sloppier. He pulled him closed and kissed him deeply before he whispered into his ear “Want you to fill me up with your cum, tiger"

And holy shit, if that wasn’t the hottest thing Billy had ever heard…

He couldn’t hold back any longer, he felt the tight pull in his stomach before he released right into Steve with a groan.

"Fuck, Billy!” Steve moaned at the feeling of Billy’s hot seed shooting into his ass, and it felt fucking incredible. Steve thought that something so obscene had no right being so hot…

Billy pressed his lips on Steve’s softly before he slowly pulled out and watched as his cum leaked out of Steve and onto the sheets.

He was so glad Steve had made him turn on that light, because he never would’ve known how much he loved seeing the mess he made of Steve, how he’d ruined him for anyone else. He was ruined too, he knew it, because no one would ever look as pretty with his marks all over them.

Billy laid down next to Steve, who wrapped his arms around Billy and pulled him close, cuddling against his chest. Billy ran his hand through Steve’s silky brown mane and kissed him on the top of his head.

“How you feeling, princess?"

Steve smiled contently and kissed Billy on the tip of his nose "Better than ever, tiger. You know you’re amazing, right?"

"Oh I know” Billy chuckled smugly, but he felt that warm feeling that Steve gave him spreading in the pit of his stomach again, that feeling that took him way to long to realize was happiness.

He brushed his lips softly against Steve’s, who was adorably close to falling asleep. “You’re amazing too, pretty boy”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove smut #harringrove #harringrove smut #harringrove imagine #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things imagine #billy x steve #steve x billy #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington

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chemartsblog · 4 years

Text

I Need a Hero

Zuko put his life of stalking and blowing things up behind. He loves baking for the Jasmine Dragon, and the most stressful thing in his life is Jin’s nosiness.

Until he’s caught in a villain attack is saved by the most gorgeous hero...and throw coupons at him.

Ao3 Link

Quirks are mutations in the human genome that cause a person to exhibit non-human traits and abilities. The earliest quirks date back to 6,000 years ago with the appearance of elemental quirks. Those with the quirks were called ‘benders’, due to their ability to seemingly bend the elements. In modern times, quirks have evolved to more complex traits…

—History of Quirks by Kya Mallik

“Excuse me why is this tea so bitter?” a shrill woman in an atrocious floral blouse asks. Zuko counts to ten and answers, “You asked for 0% sugar. Tea is naturally bitter. Hence your tea is bitter.”

“Well change it!”

“Okay how much sugar do you want?”

“I told you earlier I didn’t want any sugar.”

Count to ten Zuko. Just like the therapist said.

“Ma’am.” Zuko says slowly trying to keep himself from steaming, “If you don’t add any sugar it’ll still be bitter. If you want an artificial sweetener we have some Splenda over there.”

“I don’t want artificial sweeteners. They cause cancer.”

Oh Agni. What did he ever do to deserve this? Zuko winces. Actually, forget I said that.

“Okay, we’ll fix it.” Zuko grumbles. The woman huffs and nods. Zuko goes to the station and places the cup under the syrup bottle. I hope you gain five pounds Karen. He thinks viciously as he pumps the syrup.

He shakes the drink and then returns it to her. The woman eyes it suspiciously and takes a slow sip. Then she smiles condescendingly and says, “See that wasn’t so hard.” And flounces off.

Good riddance. He thinks as he wipes down the counter.

“Wow bossman, I thought for sure you would have punched her.” Jin chirps. Song chuckles beside her and nods. “You showed great restraint, boss.”

“Can’t punch customers. Might get arrested.” He grumbles. “Also Uncle would be…disappointed.”

“And there’s the real reason why.” Jin teases. “You’re truly your Uncle’s boy.”

“Shut up Jin or I’ll fire you.”

“Said that before, bossman~” Jin sing-songs. “And you’ve never done it.”

“I’ll do it someday.” Zuko grumbles.

Song seems to take pity and says, “Why don’t you go to the kitchen, Zuko? It’s pretty much slowing down here. We can take care of any orders.”

Zuko looks at Song gratefully. She’s truly an angel. “Okay. I want to experiment on some new bread anyway.”

“Or you can take a lunch break.” Jin says. “It’s already 11, and I know you’ve been here since 4am baking.”

“Oh yes, Jin’s right. Take a lunch break. Lee’ll be here soon.”

Zuko pouts, “I’m not hungry.”

“Yes you are.” Jin retorts. “Now go. And I want to see a receipt of your lunch.”

“Please, Boss?”

Zuko looks at both the girls and sighs heavily. “Fine. Fine.” He grumbles and takes off the hat and apron. He takes his hair out of the bun and lets it tumble down to his mid-back. “I thought I was supposed to be the boss?” he mutters.

“You are! We’re just looking out for you. Uncle’s orders.” Jin sasses.

“Have a good lunch.” Song says waving at him. Zuko returns it half-heartedly and trudges out.

----

The streets are crowded with students and workers all heading to lunch. Zuko does his best to weave around the crowds, but even he’s pushed around in the crowded streets. Fortunately, Kuzon’s Diner is just ahead, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he gets in. The smell of familiar Fire Nation spices eases his nerves, and he goes up to the counter. On Ji smiles and asks, “You’re usual?”

“Please.” He says tiredly. He just wants to stuff his face with some hand-cut Fire Noodles. Extra spicy.

“Haha did Jin force you to take a break?”

“Jin doesn’t force me to do anything.” Zuko denies petulantly.

On Ji rolls her eyes, “Suuure Zuko.”

He tries to pay but she stops him. “On the house.” She says.

Zuko narrows his eyes, “On Ji.” He tries to say.

“Nope, you made my sister’s birthday cake.”

“It was just a cake.”

“It was a four-tiered cake to make it look like the scene from the movie Love Amongst Dragons. It was a masterpiece. Mom still cries thinking about it. You’re not paying.”

He sighs, but relents. What is with all the strong-willed women in his life?

“Thanks.” He says taking the packed noodles.

On Ji smiles and shoos him playfully, “Go on. I know I can’t make you stay to eat here. But I texted Jin, so I’ll know if you don’t eat it immediately.”

“I never should have introduced you guys.” He grumbles half-heartedly.

“Please, you love us mothering you.”

“Goodbye On Ji.” Zuko grits out.

“Mom says she better see you next week for our monthly potluck!”

“Yes, I know.” He says fondly and waves goodbye at the excitable girl.

---

He’s walking leisurely and thinking about new bread flavors when an explosion rocks the area. His body goes on autopilot and he crouches behind a mailbox. He frantically looks around and sees a group of people in combat uniforms. Villains. Great.

There are three in total. The biggest one is carrying a bulky case, probably filled with whatever loot they stole. He looks to be an anima-based mutant. Kamodo-rhino perhaps? The other two seem to be energy-propulsion mutants. One is shooting beams out of his forehead and the other is shooting from her hands. There’s a familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through Zuko as he thinks of the ways they could escape. Getaway vehicle, temporal portal, smokescreen.

Still it’s pretty ballsy of them to attack a major hub in daylight. Maybe they didn’t have a choice? He wonders what’s in the bag, and his fingers start to itch.

No.

He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm his beating heart. No.

There are more explosions. People are running around him. Screaming, panicking. He belatedly hears the Civilian Safety Force giving order, and he sees the bright neon green uniforms start to direct the crowd into orderly lines. Zuko stands and starts to go with them, but then he hears On Ji.

Without thinking he starts running towards her, weaving through the officers who are yelling at him to stop. But he can’t. He sees On Ji. Trapped next to a wall by debris from the ruined building. She’s desperately trying to get out, but she’s not strong enough to move the fallen chunks.

Zuko moves.

He doesn’t practice as much as before, but his body still remembers. Still remembers how to weave and dodge and climb smoothly over the debris, over the flying projectiles and screaming people. He reaches On Ji and frees her.

“Zuko.” She whispers with awe.

“No time. Let’s go.” Zuko says slinging her over his shoulders. Even through all this, his heart is calm and steady. He seems to fly through the street. In the back of his mind, he can acknowledge that he misses this. Misses the danger. The adrenaline. But he’s rusty. Maybe he would have seen it five years ago, but he barely notices it now.

He doesn’t even think. He tosses On Ji to a group of neon-green officers and faces the truck flying towards him.

Time slows.

His hands curl and he brings them up in a protective stance. Fire rushes through his veins and—blue.

Zuko blinks and coughs as dust tickle his lungs. He’s on the ground, but there’s a looming shadow over him. He looks up and his eyes widen.

It’s like a scene out of a movie; there’s a tall dark-skinned man in front of him. He’s in a dark blue hero suit with a sword on his hip. His brown hair is tied in a wolfstail with the sides shaved. And most impressively, he’s holding up the truck like it weighs nothing.

Oh Spirits, those are some big biceps.

The hero puts down the truck gently, and Zuko tries not to ogle at the thicc thighs that flex as he squats down. It’s getting really hot here. Why is it getting so hot here?

Then the hero turns and smiles. It’s. Blinding.

Zuko doesn’t even realize that the hero has walked close to him until he’s face to face with him. The dark googles mask his eyes, but Zuko thinks he probably has really striking eyes under them.

“Don’t worry. I’m here.” He says in a soothing deep timber. Then he wraps his arms around Zuko and lifts him. Princess style.

Zuko can only squeak and cling onto his very muscular shoulders.

Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner.

Suddenly he’s put down and people are swarming him. Someone puts an ugly orange blanket over him and another is flashing a really bright light in his eye. He flinches and bats the light away from his eye. Someone chuckles next to him and he turns to see the Hero, still smiling and saying, “I gotta go kick some ass, but I’ll be back to check on you.”

Zuko likes to think that he says okay or nods or anything really, but in reality, he just continues to stare at the Hero. Red-faced and wide-eyed.

The hero is still there, and it looks like he wants to laugh. “So…maybe you can let go now?”

Ah he’s still clutching his shoulders. Nice Zuko. Good job.

He peels his fingers off the uniform and puts them tightly on his side. With one last wave, the Hero goes to face the three mutants.

There are more people surrounding him and asking him questions, but Zuko’s head is in a buzz. He belatedly hears On Ji’s voice near him and feels a protective hand over him. He clutches the hand and closes his eyes.

Focus Zuko. Calm yourself and breathe.

When he opens them, On Ji is beside him. Teary and dusty but otherwise alright. The orange shock blanket is still on him, and he pulls it tightly across him.

“You okay?” Zuko croaks.

On Ji scoffs and hugs him tight. “Of course. Thanks to you.”

“I owed you for the free noodles.” He tries to joke, but by the glare On Ji sends him it probably didn’t land.

“Zuko Hira’a, you are not allowed to pay for anything in Kuzon’s diner for as long as you live.” She says sternly. “And don’t bother trying to hide this from Song and Jin. I already texted them.”

Ugh he knew he shouldn’t have introduced them.

He sighs and says, “Okay. I’m sorry for worrying you, but I—I just saw you there and—and I couldn’t just leave you.”

She smiles tearily. “I know. Because you’re a stupid brave reckless idiot.”

“I know.”

A paramedic comes over to him and gives a reassuring smile. “Zuko Hira’a?”

“Yes?”

“It seems you’re alright. Just a bit of shock and a small cut on your right cheek.”

Zuko immediately puts his hands to his face and feels the rough bandage. On Ji groans and swats his hand away. “Don’t touch it.”

“Sorry.” he mutters, shaking the sting on his hand off.

The paramedic looks amused and hands him a form. “Well, it’s not deep. You didn’t even need stiches, just fill out this form and you’ll be set.”

“Thank you.” Zuko says taking the paper. The paramedic smiles again and leaves.

“So…now that you’re officially cleared...” On Ji has a devious look on her face.

Oh no.

“How’d it feel to be saved by a big handsome hero?”

He should have let the truck squash him.

Instead, he has to be here. With On Ji, who has the biggest shit-eating grin on her face. Can he fake a heart attack?

“You can’t fake a heart attack.”

“…how did you know?” Did she have a mind-reading quirk?

“Because that was your ‘can I fake a heart attack’ face.”

“I didn’t know I had one.” He mumbles.

On Ji clucks her tongue, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Please Spirits give me something. Anything.

“Hey, I’m glad I found you!”

ANYTHING BUT THAT!

Zuko freezes and turns around stiltedly. Blue Hero’s face is a little dirty, but it just makes him look rugged, and his googles are pushed up to reveal striking blue eyes. Now that Zuko has a closer look, his arms are much bigger than he originally thought. They’re just tight corded muscles with beautiful brown skin stretched over them. His hero suit also helps show off the defined lines of his body. The dark blue really goes will with his brown skin—and Blue Hero is talking. And he’s waiting for a response.

Good job Zuko. Way to pay attention. Just nod; that’s usually the answer to everything right?

Zuko nods and the Hero beams. On Ji is biting her lips on the side, and he wishes he could just swat her away. Or rather if Zuko could swat Zuko away. That would be the most ideal.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried for a second because you were kinda out of it.” The hero says.

Yes yes. He was. No need to make him relive the shame of his encounter.

“Um…sorry. About that.”

“Haha, it’s no problem. You were probably in shock and all. Oh I’m Pro-Hero Boomerang by the way!” Boomerang stretches his hand out, and Zuko stares at it before On Ji takes pity on him and elbows his back discretely. Zuko takes it and says, “Uh…Zuko here.”

Zuko here? ZUKO HERE? Agni just strike him down now.

Boomerang just takes it in stride and smiles, “You were pretty brave, but maybe next time you can leave it to the heroes?”

Fire flares in his gut. His eyes narrow and he squeezes the hand tight, “I wasn’t going to stand by and watch her get hurt. Not if I could help. And I won’t apologize for it.”

Boomerang blinks, and his grin seems to change into something more real. “You’re right, but maybe…just be a little more careful next time huh? I can’t always swoop in to rescue you.” His eyes are smoldering and Zuko feels his palms start to heat up. He retracts his hands quickly and turns to hide his blush.

“Right right.” He mumbles.

Boomerang looks amused, but he turns to On Ji and says, “You’re lucky to have him as a boyfriend.”

On Ji sticks out her tongue, “Ugh no way. He’s more like my socially awkward older brother. Besides he’s super gay.”

“On Ji!” Zuko hisses, but Boomerang doesn’t seem to have heard him. His eyes widen and his brows lift. He glances at Zuko who’s desperately trying to will the red off his face.

“I see.” He says contemplatively. “Well, it’s nice to see that you guys are okay. I have to go help with clean-up.”

“Of course.” On Ji says genially. “Thank you for all your help, Boomerang.” Then she elbows Zuko who looks dumbly at Boomerang.

He should say something. Thank you or can I lick your biceps? No, that last one was not good. Thank you. Just say ‘thank you’…

But the sun just hit him at the just the right angle to make the shadows grace his strong jaw. The cut lines of his body. The piercing blue of his eyes. And he freaks.

He takes something out of his pocket and shoves it in the hero’s chest. Boomerang looks confused (rightfully so) and barely takes the slip of paper.

“HERE’S A COUPON FOR MY TEASHOP. OKAYBYE!” And he grabs On Ji and the blanket and books it.

He must look like a maniac because people are parting for him and On Ji is cackling like a witch, but he doesn’t really care right now. He just needs to get out of there to prevent anymore word vomit from coming out of him. He runs until he’s back at the Jasmine Dragon, and he throws the door open.

Multiple eyes widen in shock at his appearance, but Zuko just puts On Ji down on an empty chair where she proceeds to laugh herself silly, and Zuko goes into the kitchen, ignoring all the wide-eye looks from his employees. He reaches the refrigerator and goes inside. Finally, he pulls up a stool and sinks down, head to his knees, and heaves a loud guttural groan.

#sokka x zuko #superhero au #zukka #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko #sokka #aang #katara #toph #jin #i need a hero

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ivyglow · 5 years

Text

up all night | Mat Barza NYI

Author notes: So it’s my first piece here, hope you guys like it. If there are some grammar mistakes please tell me so I can fix it. Feedback always appreciated and requests are open.

Word count: 2.580 -sorry, I always get carried away-

Summary: y/n is the new and loud neighbor at the building, what can you expect from someone who listens to music like she does? Well, Mat Barzal wasn’t expecting too much until they start talking...

Opposite.

She was the opposite of everything people usually expect from a psychology student.

Y/n wasn’t even close to being a calm and centered person. In fact, she was agitated and always talking, still, she knew exactly the time to listen and pass some safe sensation to people around her, something that her friends loved.

She used to share an apartment with a British Music major but he had to go back home and so, Brianna, one of her classmates/best friend, suggested y/n move in with her and another friend. Share space with two girls would be amazing, especially since her last roomie was cool, but it’s not the same experience life with a man and with two girls between the same age.

That’s how Mathew Barzal, a professional hockey player, found himself trying to sleep while the neighbor was listening to music in a not so social volume. This was odd since he knew the two college students that lived next door (and by knew he meant he used to say “good morning” to them every time they bump at the corridor or the elevator. He didn’t even remember their names). It was a Thursday night so they probably have class in the morning, something that demands a good night of sleep in the same way that having to work as a player does.

When Mathew notice that all the pieces of music played was from Bon Jovi he was ninety percent sure that whoever we’re listening to that loud sh*t was going to listen to the whole album or the whole music career from the rock star. Convincing himself that they would not stop, he got up, put a shirt on and headed to the corridor, having to click twice the doorbell to be heard through the loud screams of You give love a bad name.

It took y/n more than expected to notice someone was at the door and when she finally did, her first action was to run and open the door. Probably it was Brianna pissed cause she lost her keys or something, she thought.

“God, calm down, I’m going!!!!” she finally opened the door.

“I’m not God” Mat answers when the door was finally pulled open.

It took y/n only three seconds to reply “I see, but you definitely look like one” and five to realize what she just said.

“Fuck, just kidding, sorry.” not the best apologize, actually Mat would laugh (if he wasn’t mad with the noise) cause it wasn’t even something to really apologize for, she was just...involuntary flirting (?).

So he took his time scanning the -apparently- funny girl in front of him. He hasn’t bumped in her in the corridor or said ‘good morning’ in the elevator if so he would remember cause she had these big eyes and the corner of her lips looked like she was always about to say something comic. Y/n seemed like some character from a rom-com movie wearing sleep shorts, a polka dots t-shirt and face mask color blue, which made Mat smile and lose focus.

“I...I’m the neighbor next door”

Yeah, but what about the noise?! his mind beats him.

“Nice to meet you, I guess?” Y/n stretches her lips forming a smile.

“You’re not from here, are you?”

“By here you mean the planet, the country or the apartment?” she jokes.

“I mean the planet since I never saw blue human beings” he tries to sound as funny as her.

“Fuck!!! I forgot about the face mask!!! I thought my cheeks were burning cause I was shy or something” and just like that y/n runs inside the house letting the door wide open while Mat stands there and Bon Jovi sings Misunderstood from her loudspeakers.

I stumbled like my words, did the best I could

I 'm hanging outside your door

I've been here before

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not as blue as I seemed to be five minutes early” and there she was joking again. This time a towel hangs around her neck while some strands of her hair are wet from the water, the rest of it in a messy bum at the top of her head.

“Still look pretty, to be honest”

“These dark cheeks are not from you flirt just so you know, they’re from the face mask” y/n points to her cheekbones and gives Mat a funny smile.

“Am I flirting with you?”

“I don’t know, you tell me” she raises her brows.

She was smart, he pursed his lips. Y/n knew exactly how to take the truth from someone.

“First you gotta turn down the music, I’ve been trying to sleep for hours…” he scratches his cheeks and old habit of his.

“Omg, sorry!” she took her phone from her back pocket and stopped the music turning to him again. “I used to share space with a music major so our apartment had these really really good soundproof walls. I guess I’m gonna take some time to get used to the fact that they’re not the same here.”

“No, no, don’t bother, it’s just...I guess my room is really close to the area where you had the music playing so it seemed extremely loud for me.” he purses his lips again, Mat didn’t want to look like these annoying neighbors who would only complain about anything, especially to the new girl in front of him.

How old was she? 20? 21 maybe? He wondered. In fact, he caught himself questioning a lot about her inside his mind, like what kind of chocolate she likes, if she was a heavy sleeper or if she would listen to something besides Bon Jovi.

“Yeah, I get that. I usually listen to loud rock music when I have a long day, it gets me calm again...don’t know about the magic these music have”

“Nice way to handle the stress, I would probably skate around the ice until I felt like the ground and my feet were the same thing.” He does not know why, but all he wanted to do was keep talking to her.

“Healthy way to handle stress, I would do the same if I knew how to skate” she states, her friends said she couldn’t even walk properly without dropping or hitting something. Clumsy.

“My friends used to say I’m a good teacher...”

“I guess I should take my own impressions then.”

They both smile at each other, the silence between them being nothing but comfortable. Y/n thought he had this kind of eyes that says a lot to you when there’s nothing left that the mouth could translate.

“I should...get back to end my assignment for my class tomorrow…” she points behind her back and he nods.

“Good luck”

“You too, in your sleep I mean”

“Thank you…” he scratches his cheeks. “I didn’t get your name.”

She stretches her hand. “Y/n. And yours?”

“Barzal, Mathew Barzal.”

“It was nice to meet you, Barzal” the shook hands.

“Good night, y/n.”

“Night, Barzal”

…

They bump into each other somedays along the week, always exchanging more than the simple ‘good morning’, usually Mat would ask how was university and she would take the whole elevator ride with her long reply full of jokes.

Next week, on a Friday night, that’s when Mathew finds himself in her door again. This time she wasn’t listening to Bon Jovi but Arctic Monkeys. So he grabbed a shirt and his car keys.

“Hey, Barzal” it was not y/n who answers the door, that was probably Bridgit if he were correct witch he was not.

“Hi...umm...Is y/n home?” maybe this time wasn’t her listening to rock out loud after a rough day, it could be any of her roommates...he felt stupid for some seconds.

“Yeah, she’s the only human being in this house to handle rock music this loud. Are we bothering you?!” Mat shakes his head no “Thank God, so let me get her for you…” the blond smiles and turns back inside the house.

The music doesn’t stop even when y/n reaches the door. Her lips curled but the smiled didn’t reach her eyes if Mathew could guess right.

“Hey, Barzal, I’m sorry, I’m going to turn down the volume...told you I would take some time to get used to the walls here.”

“No, no...I-I didn’t come to ask you to turn down the music, I was actually wondering if you wanted to walk around and talk since you told me that only listen to rock in this volume when you had a bad day.”

She pondered for a minute before grabbing her slippers and closing the door. Tonight she was wearing sweats and this groovy beige t-shirt, her hair falling around her shoulders into soft curls and a pair of glasses.

They walked to the elevator in silence and stayed this way until entering the car.

“I may not be the funniest person tonight, sorry, my day was really really long…”

“It’s okay, we can talk about it if you want to or we can just listen to loud music together...if you don’t mind the company, of course”

“I don’t” she smiles small and reaches for the seat belt.

Y/n looks for the radio this time while Mat starts driving. Mean It by Lauv starts playing and she chuckles.

“My music taste is not as sophisticated as yours, sorry” he glances her way and she shakes her head no.

“I like it, it’s okay”

“Oh, so you into pop music?”

“I’m into almost every kind of music” she states simply. “What about you?”

“I usually listen to pop and what comes next into these random Spotify playlists.”

“Can I follow your account?” she asks out of the blue and he smiles.

“Yeah, sure” Mat hands her his phone that has in the center console.

“I asked cause music says a lot about people, some aren’t too much into sharing it. I mean, I usually am very specific with my playlists so, yeah, not everyone has my username” she unlock her phone as well and opens the app.

“I never thought in that way…”

He keeps driving while the music rolls and y/n sits comfortably beside him.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s this really cool ice cream shop I like to go when I want to be alone…”

“Oh, you’re showing me your secret place” she smiles and he rolls his eyes jokingly.

It was ten more minutes until Mathew park the car and undo his seat belt.

“Sooo we’re here” he looks at her and her glasses are reflecting some of the lights from the shop in front of them.

“Looks cozy,” y/n says simply.

“Take this” he reaches for the backseat and hands her a hoodie.

She was overwhelmed with the day and Mat’s invitation sounded like a good way out so she ended up forgetting her sweatshirt.

“Thank you.”

They walked in and y/n felt a little warmer at the place, the tables in the wall, the beige and brown color giving it some calm message while the colourfull decorations like the menu or the spoon holder told people it was an ice cream shop.

“Not only look but feels cozy” he smiles at her while they stop at the freezer, Mat going straight to the bubblegum flavor something that didn’t pass unnoticed by y/n.

“I mean you got amazing flavors like chocolate, mint and even strawberry but you choose bubblegum?!” she furrows her brows and he shrugs holding back a laugh.

“Did you at least give it a chance?”

“No, thank you.” she shows him her tongue and goes to the spoon grabbing a handful of chocolate chip mint and another of peanut butter.”

“C’mon, you’ve got to be kidding me…”

“What?” she looks up at him knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“Peanut butter?! You don’t have the right to talk about bubblegum when you eat that...I didn’t even know it was a flavor”

“Now you know” they walk past the cashier and Mats hangs the teenager a 20 dollar bill while smiling.

They sitting side by side while y/n tells him about her day and eventually eats her ice cream, they get into a discussion about which flavor was the most “normal” one and end up exchanging some spoons and laughing about how silly that was.

Mathew was able to talk about his own day too, while y/n gave him the space to speak and fell comfortable.

“If you could choose some music to play now, what would be playing?” that was a way of asking if she felt better and she knew it, so she smiles.

“Probably fallingforyou by the 1975” and she had this mysterious look in her face. Before Barzal could ask what’s the meaning of the song she’s speaking again, “what about you?”

“What do you mean, Justin Bieber?!”

“There’s actually some meaning behind your choice of song or are you just trying to ask about the meaning of mine?” she uplifts her brows and he shrugs with a little smile in the corner of his lips.

“Have you heard my song choice at least?” he shakes his head no.

They keep talking about random things until their bodies ask for some rest. The way back home was with more talk while Mat showed her some pop music he had in his favorite playlist to drive to.

Just when the car came to a stop y/n puts fallingforyou to play. Mat probably wouldn’t notice it was the song she told him about. That was the kind of music she would listen to after a moody day, she would be more relaxed and slightly happy.

He undid his seat belt turned to look at her.

“Thank you for the night”

“Anytime” he smiles “you sound more relaxed.”

“You’re sound correct” she undid her seat belt too and gives him a toothy smile.

“I think we should do this more” Mat clicks the button to call the elevator and y/n nods with her hands in the pockets of the hoodie.

As they walked in the corridor she could only think about how spending time with him was comforting and knowing about him was as fun as her dance playlist. Mathew seemed like the mix of all of her favorite tapes that she never ever gets tired of.

“So...see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, thank you for the talk and the ice cream.”

He leaned for a hug and she holds him by the neck breathing in his perfume. They stayed in the hug for more seconds than the socially considered normal before y/n let go, but Mat keeps the hold on her waist.

She appreciates his face this close and smiles, incapable of keeping her hands to herself and reaching for his cheekbones.

“I wanna kiss you” he states simply holding her tight against his body. “Can I kiss you?”

She smiles reaching for his neck again and pulling him into a kiss. His lips tasting like bubblegum, cold and soft against hers just like his hands were now in her waist.

“You taste like my favorite ice cream flavor” he jokes pecking her lips again and y/n holds him closer.

“You sound like my favorite song.”

#mat barzal #Mathew barzal #nhl imagines #nhlfanfic #mathew barzal imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #writing #nhl writing #mels writing #mat barzal imagine

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porkchop-ao3 · 4 years

Text

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 55)

Choke

Reader has a word with Dutch. Couple of warnings for this one: one use of a racial slur, and some violence.

Tagging @emily-strange ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

Dutch seemed pleased when he returned from Saint Denis with Sadie, rolling in on a wagon dressed up like a lawman. I was stunned to see Sadie in a fancy, floofy dress and a big hat, though it was spattered with blood. They climbed down and Sadie immediately strutted off to get changed, her face twisted with a lingering vengeful look, as Dutch spread his arms wide and puffed himself up to get everyone's attention.

"It's done. Colm O'Driscoll is dead and gone. This is it, people, this is our first real step towards freedom, we just struck one huge thing off the list," he called out, strolling leisurely through the camp towards his tent. "We just gotta make one big bang and then we're gone."

I watched him from my spot on Arthur's bed, hearing Micah's deviant, low titter of a laugh.

"What'd I tell you, boss? This ain't nothing we can't get away from, with our strongest boys we'll be on our way," he said, swinging back on a chair with his feet propped up on the table.

"I can taste it, Mr. Bell. Ain't it a beautiful thing?" Dutch responded, then slipped away into the privacy of his tent. Micah glanced at me then, catching my eye for a moment, mouth curling into a smile. I rose to my feet and made my way over to the back of the women's wagon where Sadie was just finishing getting changed, smoothing out her shirt where it was tucked into her pants.

"Hey Sadie, how'd it go?" I asked.

"It got bloody. But Colm's dead, and whatever lackeys he brought with him, they're dead too," she told me bluntly. "Finally. I've been waiting for the day that those bastards paid for what they did to my husband."

"Good. I hope it hurt," I said quietly, looking towards the ground at the mention of her husband. I never knew how to act.

"You should've seen the look on his face when he realised he weren't getting away, pretty sure he shit himself before they pulled the lever," she gave a mean, scratchy laugh and I had to smile at her getting to see some justice finally delivered. "Bastard deserves everything he gets, what he did to me."

"Couldn't agree more. And I'm glad he's gone, maybe now we'll have some damn breathing space," I sighed.

"Maybe. But I got a word of warning for ya', Dutch got a little pissed off when we was in the bar before we watched Colm swing," she began, picking up her gun belt and buckling it around her waist, retrieving her pistol and sitting down to clean it, "Arthur said some things and Dutch weren't happy."

I frowned and sat down next to her. "What was said, exactly?"

"Arthur asked what the grand plan was, and when he didn't exactly jump for joy at Dutch's answer, his loyalty was called into question. I tried to step in and tell them to buck up, but they butted heads. Well, as much as Arthur'd dare to butt heads with Dutch, said just 'cause he's thinking about the others, don't mean he's disloyal to him. Dutch weren't having it though," Sadie explained, digging her nail into the nooks and crannies of her gun with the cloth. "He weren't particularly kind to Arthur."

I narrowed my eyes, my jaw clenching.

"Dutch said apparently he knows that you and him are talking 'bout leaving," she met my eyes at that, and my chest squeezed uncomfortably. "Arthur looked like he was about to throw up. In the end he just dropped it, and we had to go to the gallows anyway and nothin' more was said about it."

"And where's Arthur now?"

"Ain't sure. We split up and went separate ways after the chaos, I imagine he'll be back later," she told me, and I nodded, rising to my feet.

"Excuse me," I said, and turned to leave.

I was half way towards Dutch's tent when I realised I'd left my cane behind, I didn't stop though. I very nearly ripped back the canvas and barged in, but the possibility that he could be undressed in there halted me, and instead I stopped just shy of the tent and took a breath.

"Dutch? May I come in?" I called out once I'd gathered myself. There was a pause, then movement, and the canvas peeled back. Dutch looked a little confused, of course, I'd never really gone out of my way to speak to him in all the months I'd been around. "I'd like to speak with you."

"Of course," he said, his tone jumping up with a politeness that unnerved me.

He stepped aside and let me enter. I'd never really been inside his tent. They were far more luxurious lodgings than the rest of the camp had, that was for sure, with animal furs on the floor and everything. Dutch gestured for me to take a seat on the bed, and he stood before me with his arms crossed. I sat up straight, my hands clasped in my lap.

"I want Arthur to leave with me," I said, coming right out with it. "He knows this, and I ain't gonna try and hide it from anyone."

"Is that so?" His brows jumped up. I kept my eyes focused steadily on his.

"Yes."

"And why exactly are you telling me this, may I ask?"

"I wanna make it clear that it's me that wants it, it's me who's asking Arthur to come away with me. And Arthur is… he cares a lot about this gang. He ain't going anywhere," I explained to him, my voice as strong as I could manage despite the fact I was so nervous my hands shook.

"Well, my dear, if you don't wanna be in this gang anymore, you know where the figurative door is. Nobody's stopping you," he cocked a brow, crossing his arms.

"It ain't that. It's not that I want to leave the gang. I just– I want Arthur to be safe. And I want to be with him, where we can try and be free from all those people that're after him," I clarified, shaking my head, "but he ain't prepared to leave all of you, he's known you longer and I ain't gonna force him to choose between us. So I'm staying."

"I still don't know why this has anything to do with me. It sounds like you and Arthur have discussed this at length just between the two of you and have come to a compromise, what do you expect me to do with this information, Miss?" His face was hard but his tone was easy and polite. He had a way of doing that…

"Because I believe you might begin to question Arthur. You heard him the night of my injuries, he mentioned us leaving, but I know for sure he was only saying that in the moment. He didn't really mean it, and I know this because I called him out and asked him to stick to his words. He couldn't," in a way I felt guilty for painting Arthur out as being against leaving with me. It wasn't entirely true, but Dutch needed to hear it. "I just have to tell you this, the truth, so that Arthur ain't punished for my sake," I added.

"You think I'd punish him for wanting to leave?"

"Yes, actually, I do. I think you'd resent him, after all you've done for him," I admitted, attempting to stroke his ego just a bit; I thought it'd help my case, "and I ain't here to tell you whether you should or shouldn't be mad at something like that. I'm here to tell you that Arthur ain't thinking like you think he is. Lord knows I wish he was, but I ain't that lucky."

"But my guess is you're gonna keep on working on him, try and get him to see sense?" He tilted his head, his brow cocking again.

I lifted my shoulders lightly. "I will keep on telling him what I want and hope that someday he'll want it too."

"Well, I'm sorry, Miss, but from where I'm standing, if what you're telling me is true, maybe Arthur ain't all that committed to you. Is it in your best interests to put yourself in the firing line for a man who won't commit to you, one-hundred percent?" He proposed, his head tilting down, eyes peering up through his lashes, partially obscured by the brim of the hat he wore. "Maybe you should… cut your losses and get out of here before it's too late for you, all these Pinkertons about. You've already been injured. Perhaps you gotta start thinking about what's best for you."

"Like Molly did?" I don't know why I said it. I don't know what possessed me, but it gave Dutch pause, his expression flinching to mild surprise before being concealed behind indifference.

"Yes, like Molly did," he responded after some time, voice low and level. "You should know that a leopard don't change its spots, no matter how pretty a lady comes along. This wouldn't be the first time Arthur's chosen the gang over a woman, you likely won't be an exception, and I just don't wanna see a sweet thing like you get hurt," the treacle in his tone made me nauseous, but I forced a smile.

"I appreciate the concern. But I'm not going anywhere, Arthur might not be leaving the gang for me but I'll wait for him, even if that means I'm waiting the rest of our lives," I told him. "Because I love him, and I don't care where we are as long as we're together."

"Oh, that's sweet. I usually like a little naivety in a girl, though it does so often border on wilful ignorance," he said.

"So I'm ignorant?"

"I never said that," he shook his head innocently, brows curving up, "but perhaps you're beatin' a dead horse, so to speak."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're in love with him… and he loves you, I ain't got much doubt about that. I know just what a fool that man can be when he's taken by a woman, after all I was there when he was getting pulled in two directions by Mrs. Linton. He loved Mary, too. But Arthur never could leave this gang then, just like he can't now," he said to me, eyes boring into me, I'd been staring at his face so long in the muted light of the tent that his face seemed to start to warp and twist into something ugly and unsettling.

"So you really think I should leave and not look back because Arthur ain't never gonna come away with me?" I kept my expression neutral and my tone flat, trying not to give away anything about how I was feeling.

"I think that might serve you better in the long run, but that's just my advice. Take it or leave it."

"And you'd tell me that, even after you said yourself that you don't doubt Arthur loves me, you'd hurt him like that?"

"It wouldn't be me doing the hurting, my dear, I ain't got nothing to do with yours and his relationship, this is all up to you," he chuckled, shaking his head. "You came in here wanting to speak to me, and I just gave my advice."

"Well, wanting to speak with you and asking for your advice are two different things. I just came in here to tell you not to treat Arthur like dirt because of me."

"Hm, right you are. Well, unsolicited as it may be, my advice was given. You've worked hard for this gang, it'd be a real shame for you to throw your life away, risk it because of a romance that you can find with any old feller, ones that don't have to run away from anything for you. I love Arthur, I do, but the man is the furthest thing from a good suitor," he laughed and shook his head.

I was quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. Then I took a breath and rose to my feet.

"Well, thank you for your time."

"My pleasure, why I do believe this is the first real conversation you and I have ever had. If you choose to stick around, I'd be remiss if we didn't do this more often," he chuckled, his overly proper and friendly manner wearing thin.

"I'll leave you to whatever you were doing, take care, now," I nodded to him before letting myself out of the tent, taking a cooling breath once I was out in the open again and away from his suffocating presence. There was something about Dutch that made it hard to relax and breathe, he dominated any space just by existing, took up too much room. I didn't like it at all.

"Workin' on Dutch, now, are we? You like the fellers, don't you?" Micah sniggered from his spot at the table by Dutch's tent.

"Leave her alone, Micah," Javier sighed from a ways behind him, taking a drink of water from one of our drinking barrels. I stopped dead and levelled my gaze to Micah.

"What? She's already screwing one of 'em, and she's getting mighty close to the likes of Marston and that darkie, always fluttering her lashes at the lot of them," he continued anyway, and I felt Javier looking at me. "Dutch even got a glimpse at Shady Belle. Remember that, sweetheart? Yeah, he told me about that."

I walked towards him, sitting down on the chair opposite. I kept my eyes so focused on his, to the point that he started looking uncomfortable. He glanced away for a second, then back at me. He almost looked confused.

"Keep going. Tell me more about myself, what else I been doing?" I asked.

Micah's mouth hung open just so, his brow furrowed a bit.

"So, I'm fucking Arthur," I counted it off on my finger, "flirting with John and– I'm sorry, who else was it?"

"Charles, I think he meant," Javier answered for him.

"Charles. Course, you didn't use his name. Anyway, Dutch saw me at Shady Belle, sure, but what was I doing?"

"You were prancing around on top of Morgan like a whore," Micah spat venomously.

"Like a whore? So, I looked experienced, at least. That's flattering," I nodded, and Javier snorted. "What else then?"

Micah hesitated.

"Sneaking into Dutch's tent," Javier added, and I glanced up to see him grinning, enjoying whatever I was doing… I wasn't really sure what that was but it was happening with a flurry of adrenaline and the urge to wind Micah up.

"Oh yeah, trying my luck with him," I nodded, "thank you, Mr. Escuella, Mr. Bell seems to have forgotten his tongue."

"Then there was you being a little cock tease with me," Micah finally said, attempting to flip it to his gain.

"Cock tease? But according to you I'm dishing it out left and right, I ain't one for teasing," I frowned comically. "Why'd it be any different with you Mr. Bell? Surely I should be throwing myself at you like I do with everyone else."

I raised my brows at him expectantly but he kept his mouth shut.

"No, it's 'cause that was all in your head. Truth is I wouldn't touch you with a barge-pole if your limp dick was the last damn thing on Earth and my life depended on sucking it for sustenance, you're disgusting," I hissed through gritted teeth, letting a fair amount of pent up anger out at him as I rose to my feet and leaned over the table towards him. I heard Javier choke at my foul language.

The next thing I knew, my hair was being yanked; Micah's hand wrapped around the braid that hung forwards as I leaned, dragging me down to his level. I cried out in shock and pain.

"Someone ought to teach you some goddamn manners you nasty little girl," he growled, his face far closer than I ever wanted it. A surge of adrenaline sent my hand up to his neck where I grappled and squeezed whatever I could get purchase on, doing whatever came naturally to get him to let go of me.

"Don't you ever fucking touch me!" I screamed, wrenching my head back out of his loosened grip, shoving him back into his chair by his throat.

"Woah, woah! Jesus Christ!" Javier was there, a hand on my shoulder, shoving me back, one on Micah's, keeping him in his chair as he choked and rubbed at his neck.

"Fucking psycho!" Micah's hoarse yell was my only evidence I hadn't done any real damage.

"You listening, shit head? You fucking touch me again and I won't let go next time," I spat, whirling around to storm off, slamming straight into someone coming up behind me. I stepped back and looked up to see Arthur's panicked, wide eyes, mouth hanging open. Shame washed through me.

"What's going on out here?" Dutch yelled from the parted flaps of his tent.

"Nothing! Just fucking leave me alone!" I yelled, storming off away from it all, my face burning. Arthur's hand tried to catch my wrist but I jerked it away, not wanting to be kept in that place any longer. I headed down the slope towards the river, the only place I could think to go. Half-way down I regretted not going to the horses, but I didn't even know if I could mount a horse with my leg. I wasn't even really supposed to be walking without support, but it was a bit late for that.

I marched down the edge of the river, my feet slamming down on the rocks below loudly. I stopped soon, the adrenaline wearing off and bringing pain to my attention. My leg throbbed with my quick pulse, but my scalp did too. He'd pulled hard, way harder than I thought. I hobbled over to a rock and slumped down, taking in a shaky, stuttered breath as I released the ribbon that held my braid in, fingering the strands apart and shaking my hair loose. I pushed my fingers through my hair and rubbed at my tender scalp as more shaky breaths came, I felt like I couldn't quite pull a satisfactory breath, and I buried my head in my hands. I felt out of control, like my fingers were slipping from the situation and I couldn't quite grasp my own peace like I'd managed before.

I was always just about able to keep my head, to go along with things and stop myself from lashing out and snapping at every new blow that came my way. But with Micah… I'd strangled him. Even if it was only for a moment, I had my hand around his throat and I'd squeezed. And for what? He'd teased me about speaking to Dutch, it was mild, really. Sure, he'd pulled my hair but I'd provoked him, hadn't I? It was one bad decision after the other–

I was alone for only a few moments before inevitably the crunch of pebbles underfoot came close.

"Please just don't look at me. I wanna be alone," I said.

"I ain't sure if I can do that," it was Arthur, of course. "I'm not leaving you out here with a bad leg and no gun," he added, and I realised he was right. I hadn't equipped my holster that morning, I hadn't felt like wearing it most days while I was sitting around camp.

"I don't wanna go back there," I whispered, hiding my face from him.

"That's okay. I ain't gonna make you," he replied gently, the crunching of stones drawing nearer until I felt his hand scrubbing back and forth across the top of my shoulders. "What the hell happened?"

I heard his breath as he crouched down to my level, his hand on my shoulder, clearly wanting me to look at him.

"He yanked my hair, pulled me right up close to him," I breathed.

"Yeah I saw that part, I was on my way over there to knock a few more teeth loose. But you had it covered, didn't you?" He sounded amused, almost.

"Don't. I ain't proud," I shook my head.

"What did he say?"

I paused. If I told him the complete truth I'd have to explain how I'd been to speak to Dutch. I didn't think Arthur would be that pleased about me interfering like I had. But I didn't want to lie or hide things from him…

"He was being a bastard because I was speaking to Dutch. He made some comments about how I'm getting all cozy with the men here… it weren't a big deal, I pushed him, it got out of hand," I sighed.

"What's that supposed to mean, getting all cozy?" He snorted humourlessly and I was relieved that he didn't question why I'd spoken to Dutch.

"Who knows? Apparently just speaking to a man means I'm sleeping with him, or trying to. You know how he is, he's speaking out of his ass and trying to wind me up. I'm ashamed to say he was successful."

"Don't be ashamed. It's been tough these few weeks, everyone's been lashing out. I don't blame you one bit," he said, rubbing at my shoulder soothingly. My heart squeezed and soared for him and I lifted my head, closing the space between us and hugging him tightly, pressing my face into his neck.

"I don't know why I did it. I snapped. I don't wanna hurt no one, not even Micah, I can't believe I–" I stopped, breathing deep to stop myself from crying.

"You didn't hurt him, he's fine. Well enough to talk shit before I came after you," he assured me but it didn't really help.

"That was so ugly of me, I should just rise above it and walk away. This ain't like me, you're right. About what you said before about seeing yourself change in this gang, maybe that's happening," I leaned back to look at him. He was lost for words, his brows curved in distress and his mouth hanging wordlessly open. "I think I just need a break. I've been there since we arrived. I ain't been out and away from everyone for some time now."

"You want me to get the horses? We can ride out– can you ride?"

"I think I'd be okay side-saddle."

"You can ride with me, then, we can set up a camp elsewhere. You want that?" He cupped my face, thumbs stroking the tops of my cheeks. I nodded my head. "Okay. I'll pack us some things and come get you. You'll be alright here for a couple minutes?" He glanced around as he spoke. I nodded my head.

"Are you sure? You don't have to drop everything for me."

"I ain't got nothing to drop. And even if I did, it ain't no sacrifice spending time with you, you know that," he pressed a kiss to my forehead before getting up. "I'll be as quick as I can, princess."

"Can we take Rayna? Been a while since she's been out," I caught him before he left. He smiled at me fondly and nodded, then carried on back towards camp.

I wasn't waiting long, as he soon returned, walking up the path on the back of Rayna. I heaved myself up off the rock and gingerly headed over to him; he dismounted to help me, taking my arm and helping me up the craggy incline to the path where Rayna was waiting. He grabbed something from the saddlebag and handed it to me. My gun belt.

"Put that on, princess. I don't want you going 'round without it in these parts," he warned, and I nodded and fastened it around my hips, taking my revolver out momentarily to refamiliarise myself with the weight of it in my hand.

"Okay, let's go," I said, and Arthur lifted me onto Rayna's back, then joined me.

"Anywhere in particular you wanna go?" He asked once we were mounted.

"Hmm, there's a real pretty place north from here, if we follow up the Kamassa river. Brandywine Drop, there's this waterfall there, apparently it's beautiful. Maybe we could camp there?" I suggested, and Arthur immediately began down the path.

"You camped there before?"

"No, I ain't even ever been there. My dad liked to fish up there, he told me about it, showed me all the places he went on a map. I had planned to go up there one day but I never got around to it."

"Well, there might be some predators up there. I ain't worried about that, I've camped in all sorts of places; I just remember how you was when we went on that hunting trip with Charles," he said. I chuckled, squeezing my arms around his midriff, leaning my cheek against his shoulder blade.

"I was okay once I was sleeping next to you," I reminded him, and he hummed softly in acknowledgement.

"Okay then, we'll check it out," he said, and we rode peacefully northward, following the babbling water of the Kamassa river as closely as the path would allow.

"Sadie told me that Colm's gone," I said quietly, and felt Arthur nod. "How're you feeling?"

"It was a little messy. But it's done, and I'm glad about it. It was nice to see him swinging from a rope after what he did to me," he huffed. "My shoulder still don't feel totally right. Maybe it never will."

"It don't? You never said that," I lifted my head and gingerly rubbed at the shoulder in question.

"Feels pretty stiff, can't move it as much as I can the other. Still does most of what I want it to, but I'm reminded of it every time I lift my arms past a certain point. More of a nuisance than anything," he murmured. I silently kissed it, not knowing what to say. "But I lived, that's more than most people who pissed Colm O'Driscoll off can say."

"I'd say you're lucky, but I can't bring myself to," I whispered, sliding my hand around his front, slipping it between the open top few buttons of his shirt and union suit to press against his chest, to feel his heartbeat. "You've been through enough that it'd be in bad taste."

"I got you getting me through it. I don't say it enough but I can't tell you how much it helps having you, I don't know how I'd be feeling if I was alone," he said under his breath. "The way I was after Guarma, when I– when my emotions boiled over like that. If you weren't there I don't know who I'd turn to. No one's ever seen me like that."

I didn't know what to say again. I felt stupid, even a little bit rude not saying anything at all, but all the words that came to mind weren't enough.

"I love you. And the thought of you is what's getting me through this; watching Dutch change into someone I barely recognise. Watching this gang become more and more strained, all this tension, like we're all moments away from a massive blow out. When I close up our tent and settle in with you for the night, those times with just you and me, it's calm. I… I need that. Right now it's all I've got," he said, just talking as if he was writing in his journal. He didn't need a response, I sensed that, but I wanted to give him one.

"There ain't a single moment I regret joining this gang. Even when my leg hurts and Micah's pushing my buttons, or the Pinkertons are firing bullets at us, I never, ever think about my life before I joined and long for it. You're worth everything we're put through. I'd stay no matter what. You're worth it and more," I told him. "And you deserve all the love this world can give. You're precious, you really are, I don't care what the newspapers write or anything like that."

I snuggled closer, wrapping my arms around him as firmly as they'd allow, pulling him against my chest like I never wanted to let go; because I didn't. I longed to be like this always and every moment I was allowed to taste what it was like I drank it up with vigour. Arthur was precious. He was a treasure to me, something I wished I could keep safe though I knew it was out of my hands whenever he left for another job. My heart ached with dread when I thought about it because I'd never been so full of love for a single person. I never knew I could feel such a way. It was both beautiful and terrifying.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #atink #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #reader insert

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beautifulletdownfics · 5 years

Text

Twenty Good Reasons :: Part Two

Hello! Welcome to the ‘Someday, Someday’ sequel! I hope you’ll enjoy your time here! Before you start, make sure you check out the Harry & Nina Chronology page to catch up on a few of the drabbles and novellas that slot in the gap between ‘Someday, Someday’ and ‘Twenty Good Reasons’. As always, please don’t be strangers, posting into the void is a terrifying thing! Love K x

+++

As soon as Harry sent me a text saying he was getting on the plane home I got flighttracker.com up on the television set in the lounge room.

It took sitting staring at the screen for the twenty minutes I ate my breakfast before I let out a loud groan and decided I really couldn’t sit on the sofa all day watching Harry’s eighteen hour flight move painstakingly slowly across the screen. I spent the whole previous day cleaning the house from top to toe, and even got on top of the weeding in the garden. I was driving myself mad.

Laykn came over just after lunchtime to return Harry's Xbox console that he borrowed the day Harry left. I made him stay for a cup of tea and forced answers out of him about how every aspect of his life was going. It turned out University Lakyn wasn't always keen on filling in his big sister in on things. I rang my parents afterward, telling my mother everything I'd been able to get out of her son, and comparing notes from the last time she spoke to him.

After I took all of my own questioning from her, I spent an hour walking down to the high street and picking up a few food items I didn't keep in the house while Harry was away. When I got back I distracted myself by making a vegetable lasagna that would still be nice for Harry to reheat later on.

Friends reruns were playing on the telly but after three episodes I found myself spending more time checking the time than I did concentrating on Ross and Chandler's romantic weekend away together. It was well and truly dark outside, and I knew that Harry would be between phones right now, not quite fully tuned into his personal until the work one was off.

At ten pm—an hour after his flight was due to land—I gave up on flighttracker which decided to freeze and refused to let me reload the page. Optimistically, I put the kettle on and set out tea for two, ascending up to the bathroom and getting ready for bed as slowly as I could make myself. I returned to the kitchen and made the tea, taking both mugs with me up to the bedroom and setting Harry's on his bedside table. I remembered pulling back the covers, getting in and flicking through to where I was up to in the book I was reading.

The next thing I knew, I was startling awake with a kink in my neck, my book open on my chest and the morning sunlight streaming through the windows at the foot of the bed.

"Harry?"

He wasn't in the bed next to me, and when I sat up there wasn't any luggage anywhere to be seen.

I swallowed thickly and kicked myself out of bed, stumbling around the corner of the bed and holding out my hand to keep from falling over. I legged it out and down the hall, skipping down the stairs as quickly as I could, running a hand through my hair when the entrance hall was empty of all traces of Harry as well.

It was in that exact moment that I scolded myself for not picking up my phone and seeing if there was anything there, but I left it on the loudest setting and told myself I would have woken up from its disturbance had it rung.

Just when I started running through a list of serious but not life-threatening things that might've gone wrong with the flight I stopped dead in my tracks and took a few deep breaths.

He was asleep on the sofa.

Lying on his tummy with his face pressed into the seat, his cheeks pink and hair a mess. I dropped the hand from my own hair and slumped my shoulders, he was okay.

Comatose, but okay.

Home

I readjusted my pyjamas, suddenly nervous but a slow building happiness was also rising. I was wearing an old Clavin Klein windcheater of Harry's and my own pair of sleep shorts that hardly poked out underneath the jumper. I'd take the time to shave my legs the previous morning and bit my lip through a small smile as I approached the sofa. I rested one knee at Harry's hip and slowly lay down, half on top of him.

"You're in trouble, Mister," I said, pressing a warm kiss to the shell of his ear.

A noise rumbled through Harry's chest and he puffed out a breath as he woke, "Hmmm ... Hi."

I smiled against his skin at the croak in his voice, "I didn't wake up to you, why are you down here?"

"Didn't wanna wake you up," He managed to get out, sounding only slightly more awake. His words slurred and they weren't laced with the affection I was used to when Harry had just arrived back home.

"How about me waking up to an empty bed when your flight was supposed to get in last night?" I whispered, thinking it might lull the affection I desired out of him.

But maybe it was too much to expect, too soon.

His voice was blunt, “Nina, I'm exhausted and jet lagged and a little hungover."

“Oh—

“—And a bit grumpy," He finished over me, sounding exactly as he had described himself.

"Okay then," I backed myself up and pushed up on my hands to leave him be, disappointment and hurt rippling through my chest.

"No," He blindly waved an arm about to try and grab hold of me but failed, "Where are you goin'?"

"Go back to sleep," I said, standing over him and considering whether or not I had the emotional strength to tell him to go up to bed.

I decided I didn't and allowed the cruel idea of letting him sleep poorly on the sofa be his punishment for hurting my feelings. I didn’t care if he was tired and hungover, I missed my boyfriend and he was finally home. I wanted a loving moment from him.

When I got into the kitchen I barely looked up out the window at the kitchen sink, slowly filing the kettle with water, when a tall body pressed heavily up against my back. I watched his tattooed arms come out in front of us, one winding around my tummy while the other turned the tap off.

“I’m a shit.”

I let out a long sigh and let Harry hold me, also allowing his statement to hang over us. I shut my eyes when he dropped his forehead to my shoulder, resting it there for a few moments before eventually giving my tummy a tight squeeze and then pressing his lips to the crown of my head.

“I love you,” He said, “I’m sorry … That was a terrible homecoming.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I didn’t say anything, just letting the moment happen silently as my throat clogged up. I covered his arms with my own though and did my best to hug him back, both of us facing the garden. After a moment I reached forward and turned the tap back on. Harry didn’t step away from me, instead, he kept our bodies pressed together and moved with me as I leaned over to put the kettle on the holder and then reached for tea bags, Harry opened the cupboard above and got the mugs.

I could feel Harry’s eyes on my every movement as we waited quietly for the kettle to boil and I then set about pouring the hot water. I ducked out underneath Harry’s arm to go to the fridge for milk, smiling when he hadn’t moved from his spot and wordlessly held up his elbow so I could slip back in front of him.

“Hungry?” I asked quietly, turning my neck only half of the way back to look at him before tugging on the string of my teabag as a distraction.

I felt Harry nodding against my head, “I need food and ibuprofen and about three years sleep. Neens, I really am sorry.”

“I know you are,” I put him out of his misery, turning around and resting my tailbone against the bench while holding my steaming mug between our chests.

“I’m home, Nina,” Harry declared softly, “Like, home home. Proper home … Long home, not little home. Me and home, we’re in it for the long haul. Eight weeks of no work phone, that’s gotta be almost silver anniversary status, yeah?”

His self banter made me giggle, and his eyes lit up as mine did, “Do you and home need a moment?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “But my girlfriend and I do.”

Our mugs were set behind us on the counter and it was then that Harry and I finally got our moment of reunion together. Even though he tasted stale from travel, it was still Harry and I kissed him with all I had.

"You need to shower," I scrunched my nose at him when we pulled apart, watching as Harry tangled our hands together.

"Rude," Harry scoffed back. I raised my eyebrows at him. "Come wash my hair?" He asked through a sheepish smile, raising my hand to hip lips and pressing a kiss to my wrist.

“No,” I said petulantly, turning my head away from him, “You’ve killed the mood and I shaved my legs for nothing.”

Harry tilted his head back and let out a fabulous, loud belly laugh. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched him, my heart fluttering from seeing him so happy but trying to keep my face straight. He leaned forward, languidly pulling my body against his and pressing his mouth to the shell of my ear, “I can get the mood back real quick, trust me.”

My toes curled on the tiles below us and I followed him up to the bathroom when he pulled on my arm, a glint in his eye.

+++

Afterwards, Harry refused to have a nap and instead followed me back into the kitchen in just a pair of sleep shorts and a headband I hadn’t the heart to tell him was actually mine, not one of his.

Harry hands rested on my hips as I started the kettle again for tea, but his fingers ghosted around and ended up firmly pressed against my bum, forcing me closer to him as his kisses down the back of my neck became more heated. He let out a breathy laugh against my lips when I flicked some water at him, breaking the contact of his lips on my skin. I let out a definite squeak after Harry gave my backside a hearty squeeze.

“Gotcha,” He taunted quietly, looking quite proud of himself.

I settled myself back on the heels of my feet and turned around to face him, “I don’t appreciate being man handled!”

“Aw,” Harry pressed a kiss to my nose, “But I’m your man, baby. And I’m home.”

I laughed at the megawatt grin on his face, he looked more than proud of himself, “Eggs?”

“Please!” He finally stepped away from me and patted at his non-existent tummy for dramatic effect.

“Sit up,” I gestured to the stools behind the breakfast bar, “I’ll make them now.”

I knew he was watching me, but I soon forgot and let myself focus on assembling everything for eggs on toast. Everything was set out and I was waiting for the pan to heat up on the hob, Harry cleared his throat and when I looked up at him he only raised his eyebrows at me.

“Why aren’t you talking?” He asked after a beat of me looking at him, unsure what he was getting at.

“Huh?”

He pointed to the frypan to remind me it was on the heat, I turned back to it but Harry spoke behind me, “You usually talk to me when you’re cooking.”

“Oh,” I shrugged, cracking three eggs for Harry and two for me into the sizzling butter, “You’re tired and worn out … Figured you could use the quiet.”

“Talk, please,” He responded quickly, without letting my last word hang. “I was a grumpy jerk earlier. I want to chat.”

“Well,” I started slowly, deciding what story might be best to launch into, “I think your Mum had a nice time down here last week for her birthday—

“—She did” Harry interrupted quickly, “She told me multiple times she loved staying with you.”

I moved around to face Harry and bit at the tip of my thumb, “Yeah … She might’ve called me a few days after to reiterate that.”

Harry’s eyes crinkled with a proud smile.

“Um,” I thought for a second, squishing my lips together as I pondered and set out the toast on our plates, “Laykn had a second date with that economics student, Rosie. Won’t tell me anything about it though …”

“I’ll get on it and go for a drink with him, see if I can get more out of him,” Harry winked at me, reaching for the plate I was holding out to him.

I boosted myself up onto the chair next to him, waiting a moment to watch Harry take his first mouthful. When he didn’t have an adverse reaction I was happy to eat myself, it wasn’t unusual that I’d have to get up for salt and pepper to redeem my attempts. Unsurprisingly, he ended up scoffing down his food and then reaching over to fish bits off my plate when I was a little slower than him. Harry always picked at plane food and came off nearly every flight hungry.

"So ... What are we gonna do with all our freedom?” Harry's warm hand pressed down on my shoulder so I'd sit down when I started gathering up our empty plates, instead he stood and walked them over to the sink, “We have weeks to get thoroughly sick of each other.”

"I figured you'd sleep most of the day today and ... And maybe tonight we could just go for a walk and get Indian or something easy for dinner?"

I watched for Harry's reaction as he rinsed off the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher, "Let's get in the car and drive ... End up somewhere by the sea."

"Tonight?" I asked, confused.

"No," He shook his head and stuck his left arm up to scratch at his right shoulder, "I mean let's go right now. We'll pack and go away for a few days."

"Harry," I laughed, "You've just been away from home for five months."

"Not with you," He replied quickly.

"I'm going to be here!"

“You don’t have anything planned for the next few days, do you?”

“Well, no,” I began, “I thought it would be nice to have a few free days with you—

“—Exactly! Neens, I just want to go and have a few days somewhere where it's just us … I just don't want to feel like the rest of London is watching us all the time. I'm sick of being watched, please?"

He had made his way back around to me, and I turned in my chair so that he could stand between my legs and make his appeal directly to me. I ran my hands over his cheeks and then back up over his head as far as I could reach, scratching at his scalp carefully. I understood what he meant, being on tour was a fishbowl and photos of Harry were streaming in by the minute; the fans and the rest of the world were completely saturated with what felt like his every movement.

"Okay," I agreed, "Whatever you want ... Do you want me to call your mum and tell her we'll be there later—

“—No," He said quickly, "No, I don't want to go to my Mum’s ... Or your parent’s place. I don’t want to see anybody else, I just want us for a bit,” He leant in and kissed my lips slowly, pulling back but only to rest his forehead against mine and watch me.

“Okay,” I nodded.

Harry smiled, “Good. Let’s be on the road by ten.”

*******

In the end, it was more like eleven thirty by the time we got ourselves sorted.

I had expected Harry to collapse on the bed at some point after we were dressed, or while we were packing, but he never did. He never grumbled again, or outwardly looked tired, he was lighthearted and silly and seemed genuinely excited to be heading out of the city with me. I wouldn’t have blamed him for changing the plans in lieu of sleeping once he realised how tired he was. I saw him take two ibuprofen and then it was like the complaints he’d had when I woke him up vanished. Usually, when he got home off a tour he slept for seventeen hours, ate a few meals worth of food, showered when I made him and then passed out on the sofa.

When we started packing our bags, he loudly made a 'no fancy clothes' rule because we weren't going to be going out anywhere while we were away. I thought I was being helpful when I put his Blackberry charger on the bed to be packed but he dramatically snatched it up and threw it across the room.

"Not taking that stupid thing," He muttered, turning on his heel and going into the bathroom to collect our toothbrushes.

When he came back out I was still looking at the cord on the floor near the door, I couldn't remember the last time Harry hadn't obsessed over making sure the charger was with us. He never let his work phone run out of charge.

"No phones," Harry said sternly, frowning when he considered the best thing to pack our toiletries in, "I'm going to put my iPhone on aeroplane mode and just use it for the camera. If someone really needs to reach me they can go through you, and if they don't have your number they don't know me well enough to need me."

"Harry," I said softly, "Is something going on? I mean, is something wrong?”

“What? No,” He responded loudly, the kind of loud that meant he was lying. His stance got defensive and his eyes were wide as he shook his head at me like what I had suggested was preposterous.

“Harry,” I started carefully, “You’re kind of frantic right now. It’s understandable that you’re tired and I get that you want to be away from people, I really do, but the sea will still be there tomorrow after you’ve slept.”

His shoulders slumped, "I'm freaking out a bit, yeah?"

"Just a bit," I nodded, waiting for him to find the words to explain and also giving myself a moment to breathe through the tight feeling that had bubbled up in my chest.

"I got a car back with Tim last night and ... And he's not doing so well, Neens. It made me really sad, then it just made me desperate for ... For not having that happen to us. I mean," Harry tossed his electric shaver onto the bed haphazardly and looked defeated, "Like, he's going home to an empty house for the first time. It sucks."

"H," I went to reach for his hand but it was already on its way up into his hair.

"I know, we're not Tim and Alexis but at the start of the tour they were fine, just like us and now ..."

"It's awful, Harry, I know."

He looked up at me then with red, glassy eyes, "It fucking sucks, Neens."

"So we're going away for a few days," I said simply, hoping he saw that I understood now. Over the course of a few years, Harry had grown to love and trust his tour bassist, Tim who had broken up with his girlfriend shortly after Harry returned to the Asia leg from seeing me in London. Harry found it hard to navigate to to best be a friend to Tim during it all and I’d had my suspicions that Harry had been shaken by it for his own reasons as well.

"Yeah," Harry sniffed. "I don't know exactly what went wrong for them ... But I just need to know that you know I'm gonna be here. And if you every needed me to come back, I would. But also just that ... That I always want to be with you. Always."

"I know," I said, taking the few steps to him and slipping my arms around his waist. "I know you do."

"Good," He nodded, roughly fisting at his eyes where a few tears had fallen. "Fuck, Post Tour Teary Harry, how spectacular."

"Do you want to cuddle and nap before we go?" I whispered. "You're exhausted, Harry."

"No, I want to go find a disgustingly quintessential English seaside cottage and cuddle there."

I silently nodded against his chest, squeezing him once and placing a kiss against his sternum, "Let's get a wriggle on then."

Harry wanted to drive, claiming to have missed his car. And if we were being honest I missed him driving, I hated trying to navigate the stupid thing. I thought he might give it up though, being so tired, but he insisted he was okay.

The first hour up and out of London was spent with Harry expelling story after story from the last few days of tour, which were always especially fun. I laughed along with them all because it was nice hearing stories from someone who was getting paid to do what they loved; even if his job meant he was away a lot it was worth it to see Harry so happy with his lot in life.

Laughing helped the ache in my chest as well.

Driving with no intended destination was interesting, but Harry was filled with a boyish joy every time we got to a major intersection and we picked one way or the other. He was quick to reject any sign that pointed to the areas of the Midlands that were familiar to him. And even though we ended up heading in the same direction up the country, it was nice to be going through different villages to what the main highways take.

"Okay," Harry rested my phone on the bonnet of the car and angled it towards me. We had stopped for lunch about four hours into our drive, "There's a place about an hour away that looks nice, should I call?"

I saw two photos of lake views and a huge bathtub, "Yes. Walks and baths, perfect."

His eyebrows scrunched together, "It's too far to walk to the beach from though, are we okay with driving to the beach?"

"Harry," I latched my hand around his forearm and drew his eyes my way, "It looks perfect."

He paused for a second and then smiled, "Great. Gimme a kiss and then I'll call while you go get some more car snacks."

I reached up on my tippy toes and planted a kiss right in the middle of his lips, "Back in a minute."

I turned around and waited for some traffic before crossing the road to where the little line of shops that made up this small village were. I briefly heard Harry politely greeting someone on the other end of the phone line before I started considering my options for prime road trip munchies.

When I got back to the car Harry was leaning against it, facing the direction I was coming from, with his head tilted back to catch the warmth from the sun. He had pushed his black Ray Bans up to the crown of his head and his legs were casually crossed at his ankles.

"Working on your tan?" I said by way of greeting.

He didn't open his eyes straight away but a lazy smile turned up his face, "Yeah. Some of us get colour when in the sun, you wouldn't know about that though, Miss Pasty.” I swatted at his stomach and he was quick enough to catch my hand and pull me into his chest, "Don't worry, I love you anyway."

"How big of you," I said sarcastically.

“Naw, don’t be nasty, Neens,” Harry kissed my temple and left his lips to rest warmly against my skin. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you,” I smiled up at him and watched as the decision to kiss me played out on his face.

When someone driving past gave their car horn a little toot at us, Harry pulled away with a goofy grin on his face, smacking his lips together where they had just been caught with mine. By the time he got around to his side of the car my blush had subsided and I let Harry take my hand in his as he pulled out into the road again.

It was still light when we got to the neighbouring village to the cottage Harry booked. He pulled up at one of the houses in town and kissed me quick on the cheek, saying he’d be right back. I watched as he jumped up the steps and knocked on the front door. He talked briefly with an older gentleman who looked around Harry at me at one point, I held up my hand in a wave. Harry took a key and piece of paper from him, shook his hand and then made his way back to the car.

“So the house is about ten minutes away on the lake,” Harry began, handing me the map and crossing his seatbelt back across his body, “He said his wife went out there earlier to put the lights on for us, and a few basics in the fridge for tonight and tomorrow morning. He said there’s a Tesco in the village that opens at eight a.m.”

“Right, well, I can guarantee we won’t be there at that time,” I said quickly.

Harry laughed briefly but was then the picture of concentration when I started pointing out the little streets and back roads we needed to be taking. Eventually, we were crawling up a tree lined driveway towards the dull light from a beautiful, white house.

“This place is so much bigger in real life,” I marvelled, leaning forward in my seat as more and more of the cottage came into view.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry began, “I really should have told you the phone screen wasn’t to scale.”

I hit him in the arm, “Don’t be a git.”

Once we had figured out the locks on the door and dumped all our luggage in the lounge area, it took the two of us all of three minutes to spread out across the entire house and find the best bits. There were four bedrooms, two living areas, three bathrooms and a strange library conservatory hybrid in the centre of the second floor.

I found Harry lying flat on his back on the floor of the master bedroom ensuite.

“Wow,” I leaned against the doorframe, “Having a good time there?”

“I was just standing …” He said, his eyes not opening as he let out a slow breath of air, “And then I thought, ‘Harry, it’s time to lie down, you’re tired, mate.’ So now I’m lying down and Neens, it’s really nice.”

“Ah, okay,” I sang lightly, stepping into the room and crouching onto my knees next to him, it was obvious his exhaustion hit him all at once, “I think it’s time for bed, yeah?”

“Nina,” His palm landed on my knee and when Harry turned his head to me his eyes were open, “I’m really happy right now. Let’s sleep here.”

“That’s a terrible idea, Harry,” I whispered, covering his hand with my own, “Let’s count backwards from thirty and by the time we’re done you’ll be in bed and half asleep. Ready? Thirty … Twenty nine …”

“Oh,” He faked crying, but pushed himself up onto his elbows, “You’re so awful to me.”

“I truly am … Twenty eight,” I stood up and braced as much of Harry’s weight as I could manage, “Twenty seven.”

When he was standing he loped his arms heavily over my shoulders and leaned against me clumsily, “Nina, you don’t have to keep counting.”

“Twenty six …” I said, “I feel like now that I’ve started it’s something I’ve got to finish.”

“You don’t,” Harry said softly, leaning out and dropping his head down to my level for a slow kiss, “You got me off the floor,” I sucked in a breath as his fingers slotted into the top of my jeans, skirting around to my hips and then back to the zipper, “Let’s shower before bed, hmm?”

“We showered this morning at home,” I said hoarsely.

“We definitely need to shower again.”

I could only look up and watch Harry’s eyes as his long fingers expertly popped the button of my jeans and slowly shimmied them down over my hips. He kissed my knee on the way back up and I braced my hands on his shoulders as he stood. Harry silently tugged on the bottom of my shirt, prompting me to lift my arms so he could remove it too, when it was gone he traced the outlines of my bra with the backs of his fingers.

“God, I’ve missed you,” He breathed out, voice cracking as he looked back up and just blinked at me. “Does it make me a dick to say that when I’m getting you naked?”

I shook my head back and forth twice, never breaking eye contact but slowly reaching out for Harry’s t-shirt, I gripped the material at his shoulders and pulled it up. Harry’s hands went down to pull it over his head and he backstopped out of his jeans when I tugged them down his legs.

When I was standing upright again Harry’s hands came up to my face and held it carefully, looking across my features carefully before pulling me in for a languid, hot kiss. A kiss that moved into our bodies pressed against each other and Harry slowly removing our final pieces of clothing. My breathing was getting heavier and Harry noticed, because he wrapped his arms around me to still us.

“I’m sorry,” He kissed the hollow of my ear, “I know I started this … But I’m so tired nothing we do from here will be any good for either of us.”

I let out a small laugh and leaned in to kiss his chest, “It’s alright. Tomorrow.”

Unlike earlier this morning, we showered together in the most innocent of ways, although this time he shampooed my hair. Once we were out Harry had just enough energy to pull back the duvet and roll himself underneath before he was out and completely unresponsive. It was still only early in the evening, so I took a few extra minutes to slip into some sleep shorts and a jumper, before unpacking a few of our things and trotting downstairs to make a cup of tea.

I did a slow walking tour of the house then, mug in hand and the fingers of my other hand dancing across surfaces and picking up trinkets to find their purpose. It felt magical, to be somewhere unfamiliar but homey with Harry. I found myself thinking he’d been quite astute in thinking we needed some isolated time together. By the time I was back upstairs, pulling back the covers on my side of the bed, Harry had already rearranged himself onto his stomach and kicked one leg out of the duvet and back on top of it.

I got in quietly, and held my breath for a moment to make sure that I hadn’t woken him up. When he didn’t move or make a sound I let my back sink into the mattress and took a moment to be fully comforted by the fact he was merely lying beside me. I thought of all the countess nights I’d fallen asleep on my own, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to trick myself into believing Harry was actually in the bed with me. But every morning I’d wake up alone and have to force myself into positivity again; force myself into being happy for him. So many nights I fell asleep to the sound of my own tears, and woke up in the morning to a headache from them. And for some unknown reason the overwhelming sense of relief I felt right now had me crying here too. Silent tears that rolled uncomfortably down my face and tickled my neck, and it was impossible to stop them so I let them go, breathing steadily but biting my lip to stop any sobs coming out.

It just felt so unreal to be in a moment I had held as a beacon of hope for so long. It felt like I’d been holding down the fought by myself for a lifetime, and all Harry had to do was walk in the door and suddenly I could breathe again. He was warranted in his fear of turning out like Tim and Alexis, because while he was away there was something about us that seemed so false, so conditional. I understood why them breaking up had shaken him so much, because while I had no reason to, there was something in every day that had me thinking perhaps today would be the day a delicate cord between Harry and I might be severed, taking everything down with it.

Sometimes, fragility was beautiful.

The rest of the time it was fucking terrifying.

*******

Harry didn’t wake up until almost two p.m. the following day.

I heard his heavy footsteps coming down the stairs from my spot cocooned in a rug on the sofa. They were slow at first but once he got to the top of the stairs he called out my name, I responded, and he jogged the rest of the way to me.

“It’s the afternoon!” He said, breathless and diving into the spot next to me, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Hello,” I said into his kiss, “I wanted you to rest. You obviously needed the sleep.”

“What have you done all day?” He asked, peeling the book out of my hands and not bothering to look where it ended up on the floor. At least he’d managed to slip my bookmark into the right page.

My eyes followed it momentarily but then Harry’s hands pulling apart my blankets distracted me, “Hey, I’m warm.”

“Wanna be warm with you,” He mumbled, frowning as he turned his body around and coaxed me into his lap with the blanket now over his shoulders and around me too. “Just been reading?”

“Yep,” I nodded, covering Harry’s cheek with my hand when he rested his head on my shoulder. “And I went into the Tescos earlier for some food type things, it’s a sweet little village. They only had the milk chocolate Digestives though—

—No,” Harry dramatically threw his head back against the sofa, “Milk chocolate sucks.”

I laughed for a second before he settled back against me, “You feeling better?”

“Positively refreshed … And starving,” He laughed, “But human again … Sorry about yesterday …”

“Sorry?” I questioned, trying to get a look at his face but Harry’s eyes were directed at his hands. “Harry,” I nudged him with my knee.

“You were crying last night,” He said in a small voice.

I looked away and rested my head back against the cushions, “You heard …”

“I woke up and I think you’d only just fallen asleep, but you left the lamp on and I could see your face. What was going on, Neens?”

“Just having a moment,” I smiled at him. Harry sat up next to me and took my hands into his lap. “I’m okay.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Nina. Why were you crying? ‘Cause I was a dick yesterday at home? ‘Cause I was crabby at you?”

“No,” I replied urgently, but my voice didn’t have any of the weight I wanted it to, it sounded pathetic.

“Nina,” He warned sternly.

“Okay,” I sighed, “You … It hurt when you didn’t … When you were less that excited I was there yesterday, it hurt that you didn’t make a fuss like you usually do. I mean, I know it was only four weeks ago that you came to London—

“—Stop,” Harry told me, “Don’t make excuses, I hurt your feelings.”

I felt like I was going to cry, “I missed you. And I know it takes a few days for you to switch out of tour mode, that you’re all go-go-go until you get off the plane at Heathrow and you collapse at home. I know your job is physically and mentally and emotionally taxing, Harry.”

“But …” He prompted, not looking defensive or accusatory.

“But … But when you’re away I’m at home counting down the days until you’re back,” I took a deep breath and tried not to let any tears escape, “I’m just holding onto the hope that in three months … In two weeks … today, will be the day you come back and I get to feel like you’re a real thing I get to have that’s special and mine and no one else’s … And then I guess, you come back ready to shut down to rehabilitate but I’m just gearing up to launch into just being together and … And it clashes a bit.”

“Neens,” Harry swallowed, and I heard the slightest sniff from him, “I don’t … I didn’t want to shut you out, that’s not what I was … I just … When I got back I …”

He had no idea what to say, and I didn’t know how to extend anything out to him to help.

“I was crying last night because I was relieved you were home, and I wasn’t alone anymore,” I said after a moment or two of silence. “It just caught up to me that you were safe and well and happy in the bed next to me. That’s all I ever want for you, Harry. And I know that towards the end of tour you’re often not those three things anymore like you are when you first leave me … I worry about you.”

Harry seemed to spend some time to take in what I had said, and after a few minutes he nodded solemnly, “I know you worry … And I think … I think sometimes people simplify it—and I go along with it—but they think the hardest part about being apart or me being ‘on tour’,” He used his pointer fingers as air commas, “They think it’s all about staying faithful, that the challenge is not cheating. But that’s a load of shit and quite frankly kind of insulting,” Harry’s frown was deep set, “It’s easy not cheating. It’s really, really easy being faithful,” He shrugged, “That part of it is simple. What isn’t simple is navigating emotions and anticipating your needs over the phone, or trying to figure out how tired you are over Skype. Trying to work out where you need motivation or encouragement from me in your life, and working out what you’re not saying when I don’t see everything. If I’ve had a shit day I can avoid you, or I can edit things to make you feel better about my being away. Or … Or I can blame you and lash out when you don’t automatically get stuff; when I have to explain through my frustrations.”

“It’s so much easier when we’re together,” I added at the end.

“Exactly,” He sighed, “We can’t always have the right conversation on different continents. Not properly.”

I thought carefully about whether or not to say the next thing, “Awhile ago when I saw her, before they broke up, Alexis said her and Tim weren’t talking anymore … Not like they used to. I didn’t think too much of it but I look back on it now …”

“I didn’t really notice he wasn’t mentioning her much anymore,” Harry nodded slowly, “Tim said it was too late when he was scrambling at the end to save it, that they’d both hurt each other too deeply to be able to fix it over Skype.”

“I don’t want that to ever be us, Harry,” I melted my body further into his, desperate for connection.

“I just don’t want us to hurt each other,” Harry agreed, “Or when I do you’ve got to tell me, Neens.”

“I knew you didn’t mean to hurt me yesterday,” I defended him.

“Who knows though,” He argued, “Maybe that’s where it starts. Maybe it starts with unintentional bumps that neither of us notice, or think are serious, and then …”

“… Then comes stuff I don’t want to sit here and think about any longer,” I finished.

Harry held me tightly then, "Let's go for a walk. Around the lake."

And just like that he was up, charging around the place getting warmer clothes and jackets, and finding walking boots and scarves even though it wasn't that cool out. He was suddenly giddy and excited about exploring, it was infectious and I laughed until my sides hurt as Harry layered us both up and swatted at my backside to get me out the door. But the time we were outside the whole sad mood had lifted from us, Harry's cheeks were red from the wind and his hand latched onto mine tightly.

We walked in silence for a long while, balancing on the edges of a one person path side by side. Whenever there was a puddle he would try and force me to lose my footing just before it, or blatantly try and push me into it. It always ended in a good cuddle though, because I'd scream and then grab hold of some part of Harry’s body which he would then manipulate into a side hug.

It was cold down on the lake, the wind coming off it tangled in my hair and made a shiver run down my spine. But it was beautiful because the sun's reflection was hitting it at just the right angle for beams to strike at the trees all around. It was the perfect evening with the ever present chill that covered Northern England.

I knew from experience there wasn’t much in life Harry loved more than getting lost on long walks. Every time we went home to spend time with his mum, or with my family, he would always drag me out into the countryside to spend a few quiet hours together; palms, fingers and souls locked. Sometimes Harry would want to chat, but more often then not it was simply being together that was enough. Anne had told me once that as a kid—even a teenager—it wasn’t unusual for Harry to disappear for an afternoon and come home with muddy wellies and wind-chapped lips.

We stopped walking when the path came almost to the water’s edge, right in the centre of a wide opening in the trees that meant we had a breathtaking view of a wider area of the water. I adjusted myself in front of Harry, smiling to myself when he easily rested his arms over my shoulder and latched them together across my chest.

“What would you do if Nessie stuck her head of the water, right there?” I pointed out at the centre of the lake.

I felt Harry’s laugh against the crown of my head, “Definitely not tell Scotland, it would destroy them. Can you imagine?”

I turned around in his arms, “I think if I was Scotland I’d want to know my whole life had been a lie.”

“C’mon … There’s another clearing a little bit further ahead.”

It never occurred to me to question how Harry might know there was a second clearing coming up. But the path got a little rocky, and Harry backed himself down so he could hold my hands and help me keep my footing. I was staring at my feet the whole way and when we were finally at the bottom I looked around, but kept my eyes up where the was now a wall of trees around us and then a steep incline into the water. It looked like a spot that might be where people swam in summer.

I stumbled over as close as I could get to the edge without feeling like a might fall and just looked out over it all. This wasn’t the same was looking over the Themes, or even like watching the ocean in Blackpool, this water was calm and smooth. I wished there was some way to be sitting out in it.

“Nina.”

I turned back to look for Harry and just like that my calm, smooth thoughts were gone. He was still back where the trail ended and I hadn’t realised he wasn’t right behind me anymore.

Harry was down on one knee holding out a ring box in front of himself, his smile growing slowly as I took him in. I watched him for what felt like a long moment, but really it would have only been a few seconds. I noticed his hands shaking slightly and the way his very expensive jeans were covered in dirt.

My eyes went back up to where Harry hadn’t moved a muscle except when he waved me forward, coaxing me to come closer to him. Harry laughed when I stumbled a bit, my hands shaking but somehow completely ready for what was about to happen.

“Nina Mae,” He started formally, with a fondness that seeped straight to my tummy, “I love you … Beyond what I ever thought I could. And everyday with you is safe and happy and … And full of love. I feel like I already said that,” He backtracked quickly, but then seemed to snap back onto task, “But … It’s true. I’m an idiot who can’t remember what he wanted to say … Just that …” He took a deep breath and steadied himself, “I love you. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” I said without any hesitation an barely giving him time to finish the question.

Harry’s eyes widened, “Yeah?”

My eyes went glassy so I nodded my head instead, “Yes.”

Harry gave me the most magnificent smile I think I’d ever seen, and as my own face cracked into happiness so too did the tears fall. I gave him my left hand when he reached for it, and tried to hold still enough as he plucked the ring from the box and fumbled his way into putting it on my finger. I couldn’t see though happy tears and it wasn’t until Harry launched up at me and picked me up into a hug that I looked over his shoulder at my hand.

“Harry what the fuck is this ring!”

When he put me down his face was right up to mine, I noted his tears and the way his smile hadn’t dropped a millimetre, “What?” But he instantaneously looked panic-stricken, “Do you not like it?”

He’d taken my hand in his and was holding it between us, “No, you idiot, it’s gorgeous, it just looks like it cost more than a car!”

Immediately he started shaking his head at me, “No, we’re not talking about how much it cost, only what it means. And it means that I get to see you wear it every day for the rest of our lives.”

I quietened, drinking his last words in, “The rest of our lives,” I mused.

His face exploded in a beaming grin again as his arms wound around my waist and rocked me, “Yeah. You like that?”

“I love it,” I said and hooked my hand around the base of his neck, pulling his lips down to where I could reach them.

Harry’s hands cradled my face as we kissed, but it was a hopeless way of expressing our happiness when breathy laughs and huge smiles were still our reactions. I didn’t care because surging through me—more than possibly any kiss could convey—was such a feeling of togetherness and just being completely in love with the man in front of me. I didn’t care if our lips were bumping and our noses were knocking each other out of reach.

Somehow though, we figured out how to express everything with our bodies. The kisses slowed down eventually, Harry’s hands lingered lower on my body. I might’ve liked to have taken in more of the lake, but that was before I climbed back up the hill Harry’s fiancé. I could hardly take my eyes off him for a second as we walked back, both our faces split in grins and red from happiness. Harry had his phone out and kept taking photos of me and of the two of us together.

It wasn’t long before my mind was suddenly rushing with a hundred questions for him.

“How long have you had the ring?

“Oh,” Harry breathed out slowly, swinging our joined hands between us, “I … Uh, I got it in New York.”

I pulled back quickly and had to squint through the growing sunset, “New York?”

Harry looked down at me dumbfounded, like he couldn’t understand why my tone had changed, “What’s the problem?”

I frowned, “That was months ago.”

My hips were convincingly pressed back against Harry’s then when he seemed to understand I was curious, not upset. He leaned down to kiss me once with smiling eyes, “Yeah, it was a while back. It was virtually just after you were with me for the first week of tour … I drove you to the airport then went straight into the jeweller and picked it out.”

“Harry …”

“I’ve had it in my luggage for five months and been terrified something would happen and I’d lose my bags, or you’d find it. It’s been a petrifying secret to have, trust me.”

He waited for a few moments, watching me as I thought about all the time that had passed with Harry having this magnificent thing hidden in with his stupid t-shirts and smelly socks. Eventually though, he leaned down again and snuck his hands underneath my shirt before guiding me into another brilliant kiss.

“What about our families?”

Harry hummed a laugh, “They knew. I rang your dad in a panic the minute I left the shop.”

“My dad?” I looked over at him as we started walking again.

“Well,” He took a deep breath and had a glint in his eyes that told me story time was beginning, “Last Christmas when I told him I wanted to ask you to marry me he requested to see the ring, which at that stage I didn’t have, so when I had it I just sort of felt like I had to tell him first.”

“What did he say?” I asked. “Wait, last Christmas? As in, more than a year ago you told my dad you wanted to marry me?”  Harry smiled broadly, “I knew well before last Christmas, but yeah. It was a year ago I started properly thinking about it. I waited until now thought because I didn’t want to propose and then fuck off for six months, that felt unfair.”

I tilted my head to one side, “I’d have said yes a year ago.”

“I know,” Harry replied simply. “Back then your dad told me I’d be stupid not to ask you, and that he knew the first time he met me that one day I’d want to marry you.”

“Really?” I grinned.

“Yeah, your dad’s an old softie.” Harry squeezed my hand, “And when I called him from New York he asked me if I was scared. I told him I was petrified!” He laughed, “And I showed my mum and Gem the ring a few months later when they visited me in the States in summer, from then on basically any time I’ve been with any of them—my family or yours—I’ve just been getting harassed about when I was going to ask you.”

“They haven’t!” I was horrified at the thought.

“Oh my god,” Harry cried out dramatically, covering his eyes with his free hand for a moment, “I was sure you’d notice all the looks they were giving me at Christmas this year. The number of times I was positive you were about to walk in on a conversation I didn’t want you to overhear … I gave your brother a dead arm one morning because you walked in right as he asked me if I wanted him to ask you for me. Fucking idiot.”

“I didn’t realise at all!”

He squished up his nose, “I’m glad … But it was okay … They’re all just excited. Your brother has put himself in charge of my Stag do as well which I’m a bit scared for, if I’m honest. It’s been killing Gemma too, as soon as I told her she was furious at me for giving her a secret she couldn’t tell you.”

“I had no idea …”

“Good,” Harry looked over at me in mock seriousness, “‘Cause I told her if you ever got wind of anything she was the prime suspect, stinking tattletale.”

“You’ve all had this really big secret,” I pouted, but smiled when Harry leant over to kiss it away.

“T’was a good secret though, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“I mean, also completely terrifying,” Harry added in a rush.

“Why terrifying?”

“Because I had no idea what to say!” He exclaimed, “How do you ask the most important person in your life to tether themselves to your tree forever?” I held back a laugh, loving the way Harry came out with the most ridiculous ways of saying things when he got passionate and silly like this, “There’s a lot of pressure to plan everything perfectly and then say the right thing, Neens."

I suddenly froze and grabbed his wrist, "Wait."

Harry paused and looked puzzled by my stopping, "What?"

"Is this ..." I pointed all around us, "This wasn't all just a last minute thing, was it? You had this place booked ages ago."  A slow smile crept over Harry's face, "I don't know what you're talking about."  "Harry!" I cried out, "You knew we were coming here! It was all an act, convincing me to come, taking random turns all the way here. You'd already booked it and knew exactly where we were coming!"  "No comment."  "You're a liar!" I accused through a smile, jabbing my index finger to his chest.

Harry snatched my hand and squeezed his palm over it, "You really think I've had the ring for nearly a year but wouldn't plan the proposal?"

"You're the worst! I was worried about you packing us up in a flurry all anxious and jittery."

"Well the jitters weren't fake ..." He smiled at me, "I’ve been recording notes on my phone for months. In fact," He pulled on my arm and draped his over my shoulder, walking us back up the final path to the front door, "I very nearly asked you to marry me at 4am in that hotel room after your debut." 

"You did?"  "Yeah," Harry nodded, "I left you in the room and was downstairs waiting for my car and just thought, 'You idiot, Harry, why do you keep leaving this woman without her wearing that ring?' All I wanted to do was run back up and ask you right then, flight to Japan be damned."

"So many secrets," I shook my head playfully at him.

He kissed my palm in response, "No more now."

We made it to the house and when we pulled apart to take off our shoes and outer layers it wasn’t long before we were joined hands again and tugging on arms to get back to the house as quickly as we could.

“Can I listen to them?” I asked, almost tripping over the entrance-way mat when we fell through the front door together, Harry and I joined at the lips and his fingers tugging on the zip of my jeans again.

“Huh?” He forced out, walking himself backwards through he living room. His shirt was already off, with his jeans looking to follow soon.

“The voice recordings,” I reminded him, jumping slightly when his cold fingers slid against the skin around my hips.

“Nina,” He let out a deflating groan, “Later,” His lips traced the line from my ear, along my jaw and almost to the side of my mouth.

“Sorry,” I said quickly.

He whispered lowly, right into my ear, “I know you can be a curious little thing sometimes, but right now I’ve got other priorities. Because my beautiful, gorgeous, sexy girlfriend is now my fiancée ... So I’d really love to just spend some time—a lot of time really—just completely ravishing her, yeah?”

I blushed and nodded against his chest, feeling daft but in a warming, endearing way, “Yep, okay.”

“Alright,” He breathed out, his hands slipping underneath my jeans and moulding around my bum, “I love you.”

Harry slowly started lifting my layers of clothing off, pressing his lips over any newly exposed skin he deemed necessary to kiss. The joy bubbled in my stomach, not only at his contact, but every time my eye caught my left ring-finger my need to feel Harry got more urgent.

He wasn’t lying either when he said he wanted to take his time, although when it came down to it he still had weeks of exhaustion under his belt, mixed with the joy and celebration of the day. Movements were clumsy in spots, and awe giggled our way through a few mishaps. But Harry knew my body, and his forehead creased in beautiful concentration as he did everything he could to pleasure us both.

We could only last so long before I was snuggled into his side, trying to catch my breath completely content. It had been a funny back and forth between us, because while I was charged with the excitement of the engagement, Harry was slow and considered, enjoying the fact this was the kind of love that was made when we knew we wouldn’t be separated in a few days, and I supposed it was some kind of relief to him as well, that he'd been thinking about this moment for months and now he could enjoy it.

I hadn’t noticed him fiddling with his phone until I heard Harry’s voice fill the room.

“Uh, okay. Proposal idea number one: Ask her at Brighton Pier … Like every other stupid boyfriend … No, no. Maybe Blackpool? The waterfront is nice there. You could have tea-light candles on the beach.”

“Stupid idea, candles wouldn't stay lit outside,” Realtime Harry said, rolling over onto his side to face me and holding the phone between us. I watched as he clicked on the next recording.

“No matter what you say, you’ve gotta start with ‘I love you’. Then something about how she makes everything better. And maybe something about the start, when she would hardly talk to you but it just made you want her so much more … And so you’ve always known having her in your life was a gift … A privilege. Ah shit, call Mum and ask her for ideas.”

I giggled at the last bit, knowing Harry definitely would’ve called Anne for help.

“Will you marry me … Will you do the honour of marrying me … The honour of becoming my wife … I want to be the man you call your husband … Shit, no … Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” I said aloud, smiling softly when Harry’s eyes met mine.

He had already hit play on another recording but I didn’t register what it was saying, instead I propped myself up on one elbow and leant over him. Harry naturally fell onto his back as I moved, letting me rest across his chest and tangle my fingers through the hair at the base of his neck.

“Are you happy?” He asked quietly, searching my face for the answer before I gave it.

“So happy,” I swallowed back emotion, “So, so happy. I can’t wait to be your wife. I mean, it sounds weird now, but happy weird, you know?”

“Yeah I know,” Harry grinned, “I’ve been picturing it for months now, like more than just the idea of it like when we were dating, really imagining what it would be like.”

"Hmmm," I pondered, "Being Harry Styles' wife ... Am I old enough to do that?"

"I certainly think so," Harry was quick to supply, and while I knew he wanted to say more I was much more pleased when he didn't. I didn't want to think about anyone else's opinion of this at all right now. I had been stupid to even mention what I had.

"Wife Nina," I mused slowly.

"I don't want to wait," Harry said, "You said you can't wait to be my wife and I know that's just an expression but ... Let's actually do it, Neens. I don't wanna be engaged forever. I want to be your husband, at your earliest convenience, of course," He finished with a silly voice but it took nothing away from his urgency at the beginning.

Let's actually do it ... I want to be your husband.

I had a thought that turned my cheeks pink and Harry noticed straight away, his knuckles came up to my face and pressed against the blush, “Stop,” I whined.

His green eyes met mine, “Did you think something naughty?”

“No!” I tugged on his hair, “I just thought that … I think you’ll be really hot as a husband.”

“I’d prefer if you interchanged ‘hot’ with ‘wonderful’,” Harry corrected, but he was smiling a cheeky smile that had me wanting to roll my eyes at him.

“That too,” I deadpanned, leaning back into him where we had naturally moved apart to talk.

Instead of starting another conversation though, I slotted my leg between Harry’s and smiled to myself when his eyes widened at the movement. I took my time leaning in for the kiss he knew was coming, holding myself over him and just grinning when he moved his head up to meet me and I pulled back ever so slightly.

When our lips finally met Harry wanted it, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders so I couldn’t move back again and before I could build the kiss up his teeth were already lightly tugging at my bottom lip, giving perfect access to his tongue tracing the bitten skin.

When I rearranged myself so my hips were further up the bed and I could control our movements better we were both startled by Harry’s voice continuing to come out of his phone. Harry looked down to where it had been wedged underneath is arm and was now where we could hear it again. I couldn't care less about the phone and instead focussed on nipping at a small patch of skin at Harry’s collarbone, he moaned and squeezed my hips.

“Neens,” He rasped, “I’m so completely down for what’s happening here, just … Just for god’s sake help me pause this stupid recording!” He was fumbling with the phone and the sheets and I laughed at his obvious distress, his breathing laboured and eyes wild in desire, “I can’t listen to myself talk while you’re naked on top of me and giving me a hickey.”

“Alright, okay,” I swatted his hand away and held the side button of his phone down, just resorting to turning the thing off completely. “There,” I heavily placed it in his hand to make a point.

“Brilliant, thanks,” He dropped the phone over his shoulder behind him, forgotten, and ghosted his fingers over the bare skin across my neck, “Hi, fiancé.”

I bit my lip and his hands worked back underneath the covers and went straight for the backs of my thighs, “Hi.”

+++

Author will do tricks (more chapters) for praise

#hina #fic: twenty good reasons #1dff #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #harry styles #harry styles story #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction

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