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selene-tempest · 3 years

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It’s my birthday and apparently the hubby isn’t going to let me ignore it...

((Author lady is putting this up now to celebrate, but it won’t be uploaded to Ao3 yet because it doesn’t fit the timeline at the moment, so you’ll have to wait.))

“What do you mean she’s not coming home?” Scott asked.

“She’s not coming home,” John replied with a shrug. What else was there to say? How else could he make that simple sentence any clearer?

"Like never again?" Alan whimpered.

John didn't dignify that with an answer.

“But why?” Gordon asked.

“Because she doesn’t want to.”

“Did you try to talk her round?” Scott asked.

“Of course I did, but she’s being stubborn, and you know what she's like when she sets her mind to something.”

“Why? Did we do something wrong? Does she not love us any more?” Alan asked, looking like he was about to cry.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course she still loves you. Do you honestly think that after four years in this family and all the things we’ve been through, this would be the time she decided she wanted out?” John couldn’t believe how dramatic they were all being about it.

“But it’s her birthday, she should be here with us,” Scott said firmly, like that was all there was to it.

“Yes, her birthday, and she does have a choice in the matter,” John reminded him.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“You can tell her then,” John said. “Because I’m certainly not going to get involved with that.”

“Did she at least say why?” Virgil asked, ever the sane one.

“Yes, she said that she isn’t having a birthday this year, she’s ignoring it because someone,” John paused to glare meaningfully at Scott, “keeps teasing her about getting old because she’s hitting the big Three-O.”

Scott sniggered quietly to himself.

“I wouldn’t be so proud of it if I were you,” John warned him,

“I didn’t even say anything that bad to her,” Scott protested weakly.

“No, but you asked me what it was like being married to a cougar that only wanted me for my youthful body.”

Scott sniggered again, turning it into a cough when John’s glare rached up a notch.

“And yesterday you got up off the couch and asked her if she wanted to sit down,” Virgil added.

“I was being considerate!”

“If that was the case you shouldn’t have said that you were doing it because it’s only polite to give your seat up for the elderly,” Gordon laughed.

“Oh for the…” John dropped his head into his hands in utter despair. Scott was just lucky that he was only there in hologram form or he’d have punched him.

Scott just shrugged. “She needs to come home, it’s her birthday.”

“Well she’s not going to,” John told him, wondering if he should whip out the hand puppets to get him to understand the simple answer of no.

“Go and get her, she’ll do it if you tell her to,” Alan tried.

“Let me think about it...no.”

“Aw, come on, John, please?” Alan was going to pout, John just knew it.

“I’ll try,” John sighed, knowing he was beaten.

-x-

“Come on, love, get out of bed.”

“No,” Selene said, her voice muffled since her head was currently stuffed under a pillow.

“Everyone wants to see you,” John wheedled.

“I don’t care, I’m not moving.”

“You have to celebrate your birthday.”

“Lies! I say the same thing to you every year and every year you tell me you don’t want a fuss. No party, no going anywhere, no nothing. Why can’t I do the same?”

“Because I’m me and you’re you. You’re the sociable part of our couple, you’re the one that forces me to go places I don’t want to by insisting that I'll have a good time when I get there.”

“And you still argue, complain and refuse to go. Maybe I’ve finally started to listen to you and realised you were right all along, birthdays are bad, social is bad, celebrating anything is bad. I get it, you were right.”

“Don’t even try that,” John warned her.

“Try what?” she mumbled innocently.

“Telling me that I’m right so I’ll be so shocked I won’t argue with you any more.”

“It was worth a shot,” she grumbled to herself.

“Enough of this,” John declared, grabbing the edge of the duvet and yanking it off the bed, revealing his darling wife lying flat out on her belly like a dead starfish. “Come on, get up.”

“No! I’m not getting up. If you really loved me and wanted me to celebrate you’d go and get a Chinese and eat it in bed with me.”

John paused for a second, because honestly that did sound very tempting… no, he had a duty as a husband, a duty to give his wife a birthday she wouldn’t forget for such a milestone.

“No, we’re doing something for your birthday and that’s final. You asked me to trust you for my birthday last year-”

“And you didn’t! You bitched and tried to seduce me into staying on Five and ignoring the trouble I and everyone else had gone to.”

“Never happened,” he lied smoothly. “You have two choices, get up and come with me or I’ll call your mother and let her drag you out of this pit.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed.

“Oh, wouldn’t I?”

“No, because then you’d have to talk to her and you know how that would go,” Selene left the threat hanging in the air.

John paused, his brain frantically scurrying to come up with something like a hamster spinning on its wheel. What could he do that would be special for her birthday? He’d used up his one good idea planning a night away for the four year anniversary of the night they met… huh..maybe he could…

He pulled his phone out and sent a quick message to EOS asking her to get to work rearranging the surprise. Selene's birthday was close enough to their anniversary, shifting the two bookings he had made shouldn't be too much trouble.

“Fine, then you have two more choices, get up and pack yourself an overnight bag and be waiting patiently for me to get back so we can go, or I’ll pack for you and throw you over my shoulder and drag you out. Choose wisely.”

“I choose door number three.”

“Stop being dramatic, plus you know that’s not an option. You can see your family tomorrow, for today you’re mine. I would strongly advise you pick the first option as you know my idea of suitable clothes to pack differs wildly from yours, you know I can’t be trusted…”

“Not convinced.”

Huffing he grabbed hold of her legs and yanked her backwards down the bed. She shrieked like a fire alarm. He ignored it. Flipping her over he tugged on her arms, pulling her into a sitting position.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” he lied, taking in the messy hair, mascara smudged around her eyes and the fact she was wearing the hideous nightshirt that he loathed with the fire of a thousand suns.

She snorted, clearly not falling for his line.

He knelt down beside the bed, taking her hands in his.

“Do you trust me?”

“Most of the time.”

“Then trust me now, do as you’re told and stop being obstinate for the sake of it. Think about it, you and me, a whole night away…”

“And no mention of my birthday?” she clarified.

“Not if you don’t want it,” he promised. “I had something arranged for our anniversary but I think you need it a little earlier.”

She still looked suspicious but she reluctantly nodded her agreement. “Alright, I’ll trust you.”

“Good. I’m going to head back to the island to pick up Dad’s plane-”

“Plane? Just where are we going, exactly?”

“That’s on a need to know basis and right now you don’t need to know,” he told her. “Just concentrate on getting yourself ready, have a shower if you want to, dress in something you feel amazing in and be ready in two hours.”

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?”

“Nope, now move your backside,” he ordered, giving her butt a little swipe.

-x-

John had walked straight out of their flat after giving her her orders, leaving her to it. She procrastinated for half an hour, feeling that he would have totally won and she would have lost if she got up and did as she was told straight away. She needed to keep some form of dignity and control over her own dramatic leanings.

She then slowly packed a few essentials, throwing in a nice maxi skirt, some leggings she could wear under it if they were going anywhere cold, a peasants blouse along with underbust corset she could add to jazz it up in case they went anywhere fancy, a thick shawl for chilly weather, a T-shirt to wear in bed, fresh underwear, makeup bag, toiletries and she was done.

She did take a shower, not because he suggested it but because she felt a bit grotty and knew it would make her feel better. She resisted the urge to stare at herself in the mirror and scrutinise her naked body until she wanted nothing more than to hide back in bed again, and got on with the laborious task of hair washing, leg shaving and getting dressed.

She was just about ready in jeans, T-shirt and a hoodie she’d stolen from Alan, comfy travelling clothes, when he texted to demand her presence downstairs.

He had an automated taxi waiting that took them straight out of town to the nearby private airfield that Scott used whenever he was taking a break and leaving One at the island in case of emergencies, although this wasn’t a surprise since he had said he was going to get Jeff’s jet.

The flight time had been relatively short in relation to standard commercial flights, only an hour and a half, but when you were used to being in a family that could zip across the globe in half an hour it was quite long. This comparison did absolutely nothing to tell her where they were at any given moment or where they were going to end up, so she stuck with sitting quietly, letting him get on with the whole flying thing.

“Are you still grumpy at me for making you leave the house?” John asked after half an hour of mostly silence from Selene.

“No,” she sighed, “I just really didn’t feel like doing anything, I’m not sure I’m going to be the best company at the moment.”

“Did I ask for you to be good company? It’s not like I’m a shining example of how to be the life and soul of a party.”

“I know, sorry, I just kinda wanted to forget about it. Everyone wants to make a big deal about my birthday and I don’t. Mum wanted to drag me around to visit people, to which I firmly said no, so she’s not really talking to me at the moment. She did that a lot when I was a kid, kept having parties and events that were loosely based on one of our birthdays, but she’d invite a lot of her friends and family members we didn’t really like. She’d have a great time but we didn’t because it just wasn’t what we wanted to do."

“I can understand that, Grandma was much the same.”

“Plus it’s the first big thing, apart from our wedding, without Dad and I’m just not really in the mood to celebrate, I’d rather just have a quiet night in and get a pizza or something.”

So that was what was really bothering her. Not so much the fact that she was getting older, though he was sure that wasn’t helping, but the fact that her Dad wasn’t going to be there. He could understand her point. Scott had turned thirty while their father had still been missing, presumed dead and it hadn’t been the celebration it should have been. Birthdays without their Mom had been much the same, celebrating milestones without important people was always hard. Maybe they were a little guilty of forgetting what that felt like, since their Father had been recovered after so many years. They were used to him being there again and didn’t let themselves dwell on the past if they could help it.

“I promise you that we don’t even have to think about your birthday,” John assured her. “This is just us, having a night away from the madness that is our lives and tomorrow I’ll send Virgil to pick up Celia and Adam, she loves him so she'll behave, to bring them back to the Island for the night so we can have a quiet family dinner. Will that work for you?”

She thought about it for a moment or two, but could see no other way of getting around it.

“Yep, that’ll do.”

"Good," he smiled, turning away tk check on the course settings.

Watching him fly the plane, knowing he had put in a lot of effort already made her feel like a complete bitch.

“I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you going to all this effort to arrange something, I didn’t mean to be a grumpy cow.”

“I’ll let you off this once, because it’s your birthday,” he teased, earning himself a half hearted glare that turned into a giggle as she finally let go of the tension she had been holding onto.

“I’m gonna smack you, you know that, right?” she warned him.

“Not while I’m flying, and maybe wait until after dinner, I’ll be slower then and easier for you to catch.”

“Noted,” she nodded, reaching over to drop her hand on his knee.

“I hope you’re not planning on distracting me,” he said mildly, acting as if nothing was happening, his eyes on the sky.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not, or is that another thing best left until after dinner when you’re too full to run away?”

“I could handle a little distraction now, but if you want me to be able to reciprocate with a little distraction technique of my own, you’re going to have to wait.”

“I’ll wait,” she decided, but that didn’t stop her leaning closer to smack a kiss to his neck. “Have I told you today that I love you, husband?”

“No, you were too busy ignoring me, wife. My heart is shattered by the way.”

“Oh, yes, you seem so very heart broken.”

“I’m hiding it well.”

“Sure you are,” she drawled, trying very hard not to laugh. “I do love you though.”

“As you should.”

His tone was so serious that she lost the battle to hold herself together and started to laugh. John smiled to himself, relieved to see that she had perked up. Hopefully she would have loosened up enough to enjoy the activities he’d planned for them both that evening as they were certainly more her thing than his.

John landed the JT1 on what appeared to be a small runway with a barn, in a field, in the middle of nowhere. He had refused to let her see where they were travelling to, insisting she pull down the window blind next to her as they got closer and close her eyes for the last three minutes of their descent and landing.

A local woman was there to meet them, her accent saying she was american, southern by the sound of it, although Selene wasn’t too good at identifying accents. After the woman had opened the barn doors and John had taxied the small jet into it, she introduced herself as Cherise. Hands were shaken and pleasantries exchanged before she led them to the small truck that she had parked nearby. A five minute drive and…

“Is that a river boat?” Selene asked, unable to figure out just what the heck was going on.

“Yep, now get on,” John instructed, guiding her onto the walkway with one hand while grabbing their bags with the other. They waved a goodbye to Cherise who assured John she’d be ready and waiting the next day and to just text when she was needed, and went in search of seats.

The boat was more of a ferry, containing around 150 seats, only half of which were filled.

"Now will you tell me where we're going?"

"No, I don't think I will."

"You would if you loved me."

"Its because I love you that I'm not telling you," he replied cryptically, getting up from his seat and moving to the front where an attendant sat.

“What river is this?” Selene sneakily asked a nearby passenger as John paid their fare, a measly sum of five dollars each.

“Please don’t answer her,” John called over, obviously overhearing.

The man chuckled, having been shamelessly listening in and finding the situation most amusing. “Are you being kidnapped?”

“I don’t know, you'd better ask my husband,” she pouted.

“It’s her birthday and it’s a surprise,” John explained as he returned to his seat next to her. “She’s being impatient and sneaky.”

“You’ll only have to wait five minutes,” the man told her, patting her shoulder. “Surely that’s not too bad?”

“You’d think so,” Selene huffed, crossing her arms as the boat slid out of the dock and out into the open water.

Just as their fellow passenger had promised, just a shade under five minutes later the boat cruised into another dock and they were ushered off.

“Now will you tell me where we are?”

“Nope, not quite yet,” John grinned, enjoying this game immensely. Tucking her hand into his they followed the stream of passengers out of the dockyard and onto the streets beyond.

It wasn’t until she saw the streetcar waiting for the offloading passengers that she figured it out.

“Oh my gods, you didn’t?” she gasped, the pieces of the jigsaw finally sliding into place. The river, which surely had to be the Mississippi, the streetcars and the friendliness of the locals, there was only one place they could be. The city of New Orleans was famous for being one of the only places in the world to still have a working historical streetcar line, something she had heard all about from her friends who had been lucky enough to visit. It was one of the places on her bucket list, her spiritual home for her laidback, chilled out self.

“I did,” he smirked, feeling incredibly pleased with himself at that moment, knowing that his hunch had been correct.

"You are amazing!" she screamed, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Finally you realise it,” he teased, wrapping his arms around her waist for stability as she bounced enthusiastically on the spot, almost knocking him over. “Shall I assume you approve?”

“Hell yes I approve!” she squealed, smacking a kiss to his lips.

“Good, because we’ve got a full evening booked up.”

“And time factored in for a wander?”

“Translation, time to look at some shops?”

“Obviously.”

“Maybe we can find a little time tomorrow morning,” he allowed. She smiled happily, knowing that was a yes.

She squeezed up as close to the window as possible on the streetcar, wanting to see everything, squeaking and pointing like an excited child whenever she saw something she recognised.

When he had been thinking of somewhere to take her for an overnight stay he'd happened to overhear a phone conversation between Selene and another friend. They had been discussing a mutual friend and their shop in New Orleans and had spent ten minutes talking about the area with Selene saying how much she wanted to go, how it was on her list of places to visit before she died. The answer, it seemed, had quite conveniently fallen into his lap.

It had been simple enough to organise, just a hotel booking, pick up from the landing area in St Bernard Parish and tickets for the tour he’d found. He’d planned on surprising her for their anniversary, knowing that it would never be something she would think to plan herself. She knew their busy lives, knew that time off was a rarity that could never be counted on, plans often had to be ditched at the last minute and so she never made them, not wanting him to feel bad if her efforts went to waste because IR were called out and he had to return to Five.

He had thought she would want to do something with family and friends for her birthday so had booked for the week after, but once again she had surprised him with her insistence that she wasn’t going to celebrate. So he’d had to make some quick decisions, adapt, improvise, overcome.

He kept his eye on his phone, watching the little dot moving on the screen that was them and their streetcar, waiting for the right stop to disembark. Seeing the stop for Toulouse Station coming up he grabbed their bags and waited for her to notice. When she didn't, so engrossed was she in the streets going past, he had to catch her hand and tug her out of her seat.

“Come on, we’re walking from here,” he instructed, pushing the bell to indicate to the driver, nothing was automated in New Orleans if they could help it, that they wanted to get off.

The stop wasn’t terribly close to the hotel he’d booked, but he’d thought it would be nice to walk, allowing her to see the sights a little and familiarise themselves with the layout of the area.

They walked hand in hand through Jackson Square and out onto St Ann street. St Ann’s was a pleasant walk past a number of shops, bars and restaurants, the end of which intersected onto Bourbon Street. Selene insisted on dipping into a gift shop and grabbing a few items for the family, just in case they didn’t get a chance to later. It took all his skills in sneaky manipulation, and promises of later distractions, to get her moving again, following the street until they reached their hotel. The whole walk took them less than half an hour but they were already feeling a little damp and sweaty.

The Lafitte Guest House was on the quieter end of Bourbon, something he knew both of them would appreciate. Selene liked her sleep and hated being woken suddenly and, although she suffered it well on the island, he knew for a fact that she would not appreciate it while they were away. He’d debated the wisdom of knowingly booking into a haunted hotel but experience had told him that his wife would find a spirit no matter where they were and at least this way they would be forewarned.

“This place is so nice,” she had cooed, running a hand along the ornate wooden handrail on the staircase.

“It’s a little smaller than some of the fancier hotels, but I thought you’d prefer the atmosphere here.”

“I do, it’s the perfect choice,” Selene agreed as they were shown to their room. And it was, a three storey building that fitted in perfectly with its surroundings, the classic New Orleans French inspired architecture.

“This building was constructed in 1849,” their concierge told them, “by the same man who designed our opera house, Robert Seaton."

He turned down a hallway, beckoning them to follow along.

"I’m afraid, although your original booking was for our most haunted room, room 21, it is already occupied, I do hope that won’t be a problem?”

“Not at all,” John assured him. “Any room you have will be fine, we’re just thankful you could accommodate us at such short notice.”

“No problem at all,” the man said, leading them up a flight of stairs and along a corridor. He opened the room with a flourish, stepping aside to allow them to enter.

The room itself, much like the rest of the hotel, was like stepping back in time, containing period furniture, a lovely large four poster bed and large french door windows that opened out onto a small wrought iron balcony overlooking Bourbon street.

“It’s gorgeous,” Selene sighed, flopping backwards onto the bed with a woop of delight.

“Happy wife, happy life,” John quoted, much to the man’s amusement.

“Will you be requiring anything else, sir?”

“No, thank you, we’re just going to freshen up and then head out to dinner," he said, dropping Selene's bag in a nearby chair." Actually, is there anywhere you can recommend?”

“Many places, but I’d say the best idea is to follow your nose and your stomach, although I would encourage you to try something authentic, the gumbo at SoBou is my favourite.”

“Then we’ll be sure to try there,” John promised. “Sel, are you done messing up the bed?”

“Nope,” she answered, continuing to roll around like a happy puppy, burying her face in the pillow.

“I’ll leave you in peace,” the man laughed, backing out of the room after John shook his hand, discreetly pressing a twenty into the man’s palm.

“I’m going to freshen up with a shower,” John told her. “Try not to fall asleep.”

“I could come with you,” she offered, perking up at the idea, sitting up on the bed expectantly.

“No, I’m far too hungry for that, besides which we have somewhere to be tonight, so your continued attempts to distract me will have to wait,” he told her, grabbing his bag and firmly shutting the bathroom door behind him.

“Unfair,” she pouted, flopping back down again. “It is my birthday you know!”

-x-

“I literally can’t eat another bite,” Selene complained, pushing her bowl aside with half the, admittedly delicious, Jambalaya still in it.

“That’s because you ate four bits of bread before they brought the food out,” John told her, finishing the last bite of his gumbo and wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“I regret nothing,” she insisted, reaching over to swipe the crust of a piece of bread off his side plate, wiping it through the sauce left in his bowl.

“I thought you were too full to eat another bite?” he asked as she popped it in her mouth, chewing hard before swallowing to answer him.

“Of my own food, obviously, yours is fair game,” she sipped her coke and smiled sweetly.

“Of course, how stupid of me not to realise that.”

“It really was,” she agreed, holding in a giggle at the martyred look on his face.

“Dessert?” he eventually asked once she stopped sniggering like an idiot.

“Obviously, do you want to share one?”

“Sure,” John shrugged, at ease with pretty much anything at that moment. He had worried that he might find the whole area overwhelming as it had a reputation as a nonstop party town. He’d been dreading crowds of people getting too close for comfort, being too loud, too boisterous and invasive. But he’d found that, while it was loud it wasn’t unbearable, seeming to consist of a lot of music, laughter and the occasional shout.

Although it was crowded, they weren’t shoving and barging, they were respectful of personal space and friendly enough without being over friendly. It was a pleasant surprise, one that was reflecting in his current mood. Selene, for her part, was so chilled out she was practically horizontal, four witch types had already waved hello and greeted her like a long lost friend even though she didn’t know them at all and she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the experience, her grumpy mood of earlier completely forgotten.

“What do you fancy?” Selene asked, currently studying the dessert menu on the board.

“Besides my gorgeous wife?”

“Yeah, besides her, wives are not for eating,” Selene snorted.

“I beg to differ.”

Selene tore her eyes away from the menu to look at him. He lifted his bottle of beer and took an innocent sip, his eyes projecting trustworthiness. She wasn't fooled.

“Something chocolatey?” she offered, trying to distract herself away from the thought of his mouth on something other than the neck of the bottle.

He thought about it for a second or two then shook his head. “Maybe something with fruit?”

“ Or possibly Ice Cream?”

“Maybe,” he studied the menu himself. “Bananas Foster?”

“Perfect,” she nodded.

They finished up the last of their meal at a leisurely pace, chatting in between sharing bites of the delicious dessert. Bananas Foster was a favourite of Gordon’s and she snapped a picture to send to him later, wanting to make him jealous.

John paid the bill, leaving a generous tip and reached for her hand, guiding her outside. He took out his phone, checking the time and location for their next activity. Keeping hold of her hand, using it to pull her in closer to his side, he led the way further down Bourbon and onto St Peter’s where the tour guide would hopefully be waiting.

"Hello!" one of their guides greeted them as they closed in on the group of maybe twenty people already waiting there. "Tracy, party of two?"

"That's us," John confirmed and Selene nodded too. She had no reason to, she just wanted to look like she had some kind of clue as to why they were there and what was going on.

"Good, then you're the last ones, let's get started. I'm Delphine, this is Remi, and we'll be your guides on this, the world famous New Orleans Ghost Tour."

Selene squeezed his hand excitedly and he allowed himself to release the breath he had been holding. It was always a bit of a gamble with her when it came to planning anything like this. In most things she was incredibly laid back, but when it was anything that involved the potential for witchcraft, mediumship or ghosts then you were swimming in muddy water. It depended on how respectful the people involved were. He had done his research as best he could, seeing that the tour had been running for more than 80 years in some form or another and that they didn't employ the use of jump scares, people in costumes or sensationalise it in any way. He just hoped it was all it promised to be.

"This is a two hour walking tour, ending with a visit to the beautiful and very haunted St Louis Cemetery No 1," Delphine informed them all. "But we're going to start right here in the heart of the French quarter where murder, mystery and voodoo magic helped shape our history."

The other attendees ooed and ahhed, already impressed by the mere thought of ghosts and ghoulies.

Selene was busily looking around them curiously as they wandered slowly down the street, Delphine and Remi giving them a run down on the architecture, the history, the customs and the people that make up New Orleans. But he could feel that she was already on alert, the hand that held on tightly to his arm seeming to warm against his skin, letting him know that her gifts had already awoken, sitting up to take notice.

As they walked they were told a little about the Le Petite Theatre and the young chorus girl who, falling out of favour with the producer, hung herself above the stage during the opening night's performance. Legend had it that every opening night her shadowy form could be seen hanging against the backdrop of the stage.

The first place they stopped at properly to take pictures and listen to the full history was the Andrew Jackson hotel, somewhere John had looked at as a possible place to stay but had decided against it when he had realised it was on the tour.

“The Andrew Jackson, once a boarding house for boys, fell victim to two major fires at the end of the 1700’s,” Delphine told them. Her voice was pleasant to listen to, loud enough that they didn’t have to strain their ears but soft and lilting in that southern way that put you at ease instantly.

“One of those fires burnt the school to the ground, killing a number of young residents. The spirits of the boys are often seen and heard in the hotel, being described as mischievous spirits who like to play outside people’s rooms at night. One guest reported waking up in the middle of the night to see three small boys sitting on the end of her bed. Of course, she screamed, which the boys copied, screaming back at her in terror before vanishing.”

“Can you sense anything?” John whispered to Selene, making sure to keep his voice low, not wishing to interrupt Delphine or distract the other people listening.

Selene waggled her hand back and forth in a ‘meh’ gesture, indicating it could be something or nothing.

“I can feel energy from there, but nothing is coming forward to say hello,” she whispered back. “If we were inside I’m sure I’d get something more but out here, not being funny but the spirits are probably so used to tourists coming through that we’re boring to them now. That and, where I’m usually one of the only mediumistic people to come in to talk to spirits, there are tons here, you can trip over a witch by accident. So they are probably just keeping themselves to themselves.”

“Fair enough,” John chuckled, he always loved the way she explained things, a mixture of simplistic and colourful language with a hint of ‘I’m the expert’ that he so admired.

They continued walking, Remi pointing out interesting landmarks and telling the odd story of a murder or some other tragedy that had occured until they reached their next proper stop.

“Here we are at the historic, and very popular, Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop Bar, the oldest in the city. History is mixed on whether this building was owned by the famed Lafitte brothers, Jean, or John, and Pierre or just named after them. Some accounts say that they ran the blacksmith shop as a front, others say that they cannot find any actual evidence of their involvement. All we know for sure is that they were nasty pieces of work.” Remi swept a hand out, gesturing towards the bar that was already hopping even though it was still relatively early.

“Jean and Pierre, the Pirate Captains, were instrumental in helping to win the battle of New Orleans during the war of 1812 against the British,“ Delphine continued to explain, glancing at Selene and winking at the mention of the British. “Jean was given a pardon for all his misdeeds as reward for their help, but in exchange he was ordered to leave the state of Louisiana.”

“Bit mean,” Selene whispered to John, who nodded in agreement, imagining how it would feel to help save a city only to be thrown out of it.

“It’s said that they left great treasures around the French Quarter and in the Mississippi itself which have never been found. The only other person that knew of their whereabouts was a fellow pirate that Jean made the mistake of trusting. Unfortunately, as is often the way with pirates, he was untrustworthy, returning again and again to the cache's to skim a little off the top, so to speak. When Jean found out he did a little skimming of his own, he killed the pirate and it’s said that his spirit is cursed to guard the treasure forever more.”

“That’s a bit of a rough deal,” Selene muttered. “All eternity guarding something he can’t have? That’s like Virgil dying and hovering over the coffee pot.”

John snorted out a laugh, picturing his brother in ghost form, wailing as Scott took the coffee pot, poured himself a cup and drank it in front of him.

As they wandered on, John and Selene were asked for a few selfies by tourists not in their group and they had to hurry to catch up a few times, finding it impossible to be rude and refuse even though John would have much rather done so.

They were told of the Pharmacy Museum. The building had the dubious honour of being the first licensed pharmacy in the United States but the treatments offered often did more harm than good, verging on barbaric. From drilling holes in skulls to relieve the pressure as a cure for headaches, to chemical concoctions that would have you put in prison were you to use them today.

The second doctor to practice there was known to kidnap pregnant women and perform horrific experiments on them and it was his grizzly spirit that was said to shunt the building still.

They stopped outside a large, three storey building, getting comfortable as their guide started her story.

“The Palace, the Sultan’s house and the murder house,” Remi called out over the increasing noise of the streets and the chatting of the tour attendees. “All names for this building. Originally the second home of a wealthy businessman, he was hardly ever in residence and often rented it out in exchange for some extra cash that he probably didn’t need. Legends differ, one saying that the mysterious young man, a tall, dark and handsome stranger, was the brother of a sultan, hence the name, while others talk of him being some kind of demon or devil.”

“Demon’s aren’t real are they?” John asked Selene in a side whisper. She didn’t answer but her scrunched up nose and avoidance of his eyes told him all he needed to know.

“Do you know any?”

She nodded vaguely, clearly not comfortable talking about such things out in the open as they were so he took the hint and shut up, tuning back into the talk.

“The man was very exotic,” Delphine was saying. “He had an accent that no one could place, he arrived with a full entourage of young and beautiful people, both male and female. Again, here accounts differ, some say that the Sultan actually hired a number of assassins to murder his brother and his entourage but others are far more sensational.”

“How much more sensational could it get?” an older woman whispered to her partner.

“I don’t know,” the other woman whispered back, “maybe an orgy?”

John dropped her chin to Selene’s shoulder, burying his face in her neck as he tried not to laugh. Selene was less composed, out right giggling as he pulled her closer, his arms around her waist so she could lean back against his chest.

“The man and his ‘family’, for that was how he referred to them on the rent agreement, moved in. They immediately closed all the window shutters, hung heavy drapes and weren’t really ever seen again, although the neighbors knew they were in there. They could smell food cooking, they heard music playing at night and the smell of incense often wafted out. But, more disturbingly, the sound of screams would be heard, although it was never known if they were of pain, or pleasure. After a while the house grew quiet, no signs of life were seen and with the silence came a sickening smell. When the police broke down the door they found a scene that they likened to a slaughter house. Dead bodies were everywhere, blood splattered the walls and in the garden they found a freshly dug grave that contained the body of a man, supposedly buried alive. “

“Damn,” the woman who had suggested the orgy, muttered to her partner. "That's definitely not as much fun."

“As I said, accounts vary, some say that it was the sultan’s brother’s harem that had been killed and the brother was the body found in the garden, others say that the family escaped and killed those that either attacked them or that they were demons feeding on the flesh and souls of their victims. We will never know for sure. But rumour has it that the ghost of the sultan’s brother haunts these halls, that passers by still smell the incense and that the echoing screams can still be heard coming from inside.”

“Anything there?” John murmured in her ear, nodding towards the big building.

“There’s definitely an energy of some kind in there,” she answered, keeping her voice low and quiet. “It feels more like residual energy though, not so much an active spirit, but I'd have to be inside to know for sure.”

As they walked Delphine told them of another house, 734 Royal Street where a young black woman had frozen to death on the roof, having been told to disrobe and wait up there by her lover as a joke. He never expected her to do it and was the unlucky person to find her the next morning, naked, frozen, dead on the rooftop. It was said he died soon after from a broken heart.

Some people report to have seen a woman standing on the roof, being concerned enough to call the police. But as soon as the police hear the address they are known to dismiss it as just Julie, still waiting.

Next on their stop was the LaLaurie Mansion. Delphine, their guide, told them the story of Delphine LaLaurie, the beautiful lady of the house who married a man named Louie LaLaurie, a doctor from Europe. They were what was considered an it couple of the time, the height of fashion and threw extravagant parties to show off their wealth and to network.

The only thing of note that anyone found strange about them was the high number of slaves they seemed to own. Delphine LaLaurie would explain it away as nothing if you asked, brushing it off but if you continued to press the issue, or asked anyone else, you would find yourself ousted, shunned, never to be invited back again.

On the tenth of April 1834, whilst hosting another of their elaborate events a fire broke out in the house. The fire brigade were called and soon had the flames under control. Everything seemed fine, the damage seemed to be minimal but they checked the area thoroughly, just to be sure.

The fire looked to have originated in the kitchen and there they found an older enslaved woman, huddled close to an open window, coughing harshly, almost overcome by smoke. They wondered why she had not left through the window to save herself, but they soon found the answer. They discovered that she was chained to the stove by her ankle, unable to even leave the room, let alone the house itself.

They questioned her on the fire and she admitted that she was responsible, she had set the fire. When they asked why she pointed above her head and told them to look in there. In the room above the kitchen, the slaves quarters, they met with the most horrific sight.

The attic room was full of tortured, mutilated slaves. The doors had been locked but they had soon broken it down. As soon as the doors had opened the smell that hit them had made them heave, some of them needing to turn away to vomit. Papers from the time told of at least seven slaves, chained, beaten, tortured. Victims of pain experiments, their muscles and limbs stretched and broken.

Even though the people of time didn’t hold slaves in the same regard as others they were up in arms, calling for the LaLaurie’s blood. A mob gathered outside but they could not find them, the LaLaurie’s had made their escape in a carriage.

“People talk of a dark and depressive atmosphere in the house,” Remi continued, “and many have reported to have seen the ghost of LaLaurie. A young couple once lived here with their baby. One night the man awoke to see a woman standing over the crib. At first he thought it was his wife but she was right there in bed beside him and she didn’t have long, red hair. He yelled out loud and the woman turned to look at him before running away. He made to follow but something told him not to, instead he stopped to check the baby. The baby’s sock had been removed and had been stuffed deep down into the baby's mouth, partially down its throat, choking it.”

“I don’t like this one,” Selene whispered, her eyes fixed on the building in front of them. Even though it was a lovely warm night and she had her shawl around her shoulders, John could feel that she was shivering and wrapped his arms around her tighter.

“There’s a darkness in there, not like at the Sultan’s Palace, different. I feel that this building still has evil inside it. The energy is so...spikey,” she finished, not really knowing how to describe it. “Like it could prick you or hurt you just because you were there. I can’t say if there are any spirits in there, I’d have to go in for that, but the things that happened in there, it’s soaked into the walls, the floor, everything.”

She shuddered again, taking an instinctive step backwards, forcing John to do the same or have her knock him over. He knew what she meant, the house felt strange even to him, like every instinct he possessed was screaming at him to turn around and leave. He was a Tracy, he didn’t back down from anything, even with the fine hairs at the back of his neck standing to attention, but he was more than happy to start walking as the tour moved on.

The last stop on their tour before they moved on to the cemetery was the famous house of Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans who, despite being dead for over 250 years, still seemed to hold some sway over the city, still having powers from beyond the grave.

“Born in 1801, to a wealthy white plantation owner and her black mother, Marie was said to be incredibly beautiful,” Delphine told them. “She married and went on to have two children before her husband mysteriously went missing. After this she called herself a widow, though some people believe that this was simply to save face and that he had actually abandoned her and their children.”

“Is this place any better?” John asked, his voice low in her ear, making her shiver for an entirely different reason.

“Much better,” she replied, keeping her voice quiet. “I can feel power here, but it’s neutral, nothing that I would call malevolent or nasty.”

“After her husband’s disappearance she was in need of money with which to take care of herself and her children. With precious little options, she began working in a hair salon, serving wealthy white and Creole women of New Orleans. Just like the salons of today they were a hotbed for gossip and secret spilling. She hoarded the information she was privy to, using to her advantage to rise up the ranks of society.”

“Honestly, I can respect that woman,” Selene muttered. “I gather gossip and use it to my advantage too.”

“Sweetheart, you said that finding Grandma’s old photo album and stealing the picture of Dad’s emo phase was you doing the Gods work.”

“I stand by that,” she sniffed, ignoring the giggle from the young man standing behind them.

“Marie entered into another relationship with a wealthy and powerful man from a prestigious local family,” Remi continued. “And they had a total of fifteen children in quick succession.”

“Sod that!” Selene yelped, crossing her legs in the ultimate act of self defence.

“And you said I have too many brothers,” John teased, hugging her tighter when she attempted to elbow him.

“Obviously, with so many children to look after she found that her time was limited,” Delphine said, ignoring Selene’s outburst. “She quit her job at the hair salon and devoted herself to raising her children. It’s believe that this was the time when she started to pay more attention to her mothers voodoo beliefs and practices.”

The story, which Delphine and Remi continued to tell them as they walked towards their last stop of the night, St Louis Cemetery number one, said that while she had a basic knowledge from her mother she learnt most of her craft from a voodoo doctor known only as Doctor John.

Selene turned her head back to look at John as she walked beside her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a side hustle in Voodoo? You’ve been making me do all the magical heavy lifting for years.”

“Well, I had to leave you with something to do to make you feel useful,” he retorted, smacking a kiss on her lips when she squeaked a protest.

“Quite Christian based in the prayers used, voodoo combines the use of saints, incense and dance into its practice,” Remi continued as they walked. “She was known for her pet snake which she had named Zombie, and for providing Gri-Gri bags, spiritual readings, spells, fortune telling and mediumship for the wealthy of New Orleans upper class. She was said to have died with a smile on her face in 1881 and, when her death was reported in the newspapers they called her the kindest woman that had ever lived. She was said to have nursed the sick and helped out with all manner of problems that people might have, although many said it wasn’t so much because of her magical abilities that she was so powerful, but the secrets that she kept. Secrets that kept many politicians in her debt.”

They came to stop outside the crumbling white walls that surrounded the cemetery, glowing eerily in the rapidly darkening twilight between dusk and full night. The walls themselves were actually made up of wall tombs, a place for families who couldn’t afford a large above ground one.

“Marie Laveau was laid to rest right here in this very cemetery. It’s said that she still wields a remarkable amount of power even from beyond the grave, so much so that people often petition her spirit in the hopes that she will grant their wishes,” Delphine said as they entered.

She and Remi led the way through a maze of tombs, some old and crumbling, others surrounded by iron railings that tilted at odd angles due to age and decay, some large, some small, some classical, some extravagant while others were just so outlandish that they looked completely out of place.

They stopped beside a rather plain white tomb, relatively small in comparison to some of the others they had already seen. Delphine reached out a hand to touch the side of the tomb, right beside a green X that had been scrawled on the paint.

“The practice has since been banned and is considered a criminal offence, but in the past people would mark her grave with an X, although as you can see some people ignore the law. The ritual stated that you should mark the grave with an X, turn around three times, knock on the tomb and then yell out your wish. If the wish came true you were supposed to return, draw a circle around your X and leave an offering to the lady.”

“I can think of a few wishes I’d like granted,” a lady in their group stated, making a fair few people laugh. “Not much, just a few million in the bank, a nice house and a good looking man on my arm.”

“Well, I can’t help with the millions,” her husband said, “but at least you have the good looking man.”

“Yeah, in my dreams,” she countered, although he didn’t seem too offended by it.

“Marie’s ghost has been spotted in many locations throughout the French quarter where she made her home," Remi told them. "She is most recognizable by the red and white turban tucked around her hair and the bright clothes she wears. People are still drawn to her and often follow her wanting to introduce themselves but she always vanishes, sometimes right in front of them, before they can do so.”

“She doesn’t sound scary,” a man said dismissively.

“Oh, she’s seen as very friendly,” Delphine answered, “until you cross her. She’s been seen many times in this cemetery, walking between and sometimes through the tombs. Usually she leaves you be but, if you do anything that she deems disrespectful, such as disregarding or insulting her beliefs or religion she has been known to scratch, pinch and shove people to the ground. Voices have been heard coming from inside her tomb and some people that get too close have reported feeling sick.”

“She’s not too bad,” a voice beside Selene and John said in a conversational tone.

“Have you seen her?” Selene asked, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb Delphine and Remi as they told of the cities other famous inhabitants of the cemetery such as Bernard de Marigny and Barthelemy Lafon.

“Seen who?” John asked, dragging his attention away from the talk and back to her.

“Sorry, wasn’t talking to you,” she whispered.

“Do you happen to know where the Vignes tomb is?” the man asked, changing the subject from ghost talk to something more mundane.

“No, sorry, we’re just on a tour here, we don’t know the area,” Selene admitted.

“Who were you talking to?”

“This guy,” she said, nodding towards the blond man who had begun to wander closer to the front of the tour group, obviously wanting to take advantage of listening to the information without having to pay for the privilege like the rest of them had.

“Who?”

“Him,” she replied, waving in his direction. "That new guy, he definitely wasn't with us at the start. He must have joined in along the way."

“There’s no one there, Sel,” John said quietly. She looked at him, studying his face to make sure he wasn't messing with her, but he seemed serious enough. She sighed, for someone so observant John certainly seemed to be missing the obvious.

“Yes there is, he’s right there,” she insisted. Praying for patience she grabbed his hand to drag him closer. “See? He's right there.”

“Yes,” John gulped, eyes widening, “I actually do see him.”

“Right, so he was saying that Marie Laveau isn’t as bad as everyone says she is, I assume he meant that her spirit isn’t that menacing, I was asking him if he’d seen her but then you interrupted and-”

“Sel,” John interrupted, his eyes locked on the man who was meandering back their way, “I don't think he joined the tour, he just walked straight through that tomb.”

“Damn, then he’s got some serious energy in him,” she breathed, catching John’s meaning. “He must have if I didn’t sense it straight away.”

“Sorry, I had to listen to make sure they told my story right,” the ghost said, reaching her side. John’s eyes almost fell out of his head, confirming that he could now hear him as well as see him.

“Oh, are you a famous one?” Selene asked as the tour moved on, affording them a little more privacy to talk.

“My name is Henry,” he told them, dipping in a courtly little bow. “Oh, that's my cue, if you’ll excuse me…”

Henry vanished and reappeared nearer the front of the tour. Making a face of pure boredom he stepped into a gap between two tombs and moaned in a low, quiet voice. “I need to rest.”

Several people in the tour jumped and an older lady stumbled. John, actinb on instinct, reached out to steady her, letting go of Selene’s hand in the process.

“Where did he go?” John asked, returning to her side after assuring himself that the lady was unharmed.

“No where, he’s still right there,” she answered, giving Henry a small wave.

“No, he’s not.”

“He is,” she insisted, “come on, we’ll go talk to him again.”

“As we were saying,” Remi could be heard above the mutterings of the other attendees. “The story of Henry Vignes is a sad one. A sailor who trusted the wrong person, Henry died having no place to be laid to rest, his tomb sold by the lady he had entrusted with his most important papers.”

Henry nodded sadly, leaning casually against the side of a tomb.

“He has been seen by many people, usually so clearly that they do not realise that he is even a ghost,” Delphine told them. Henry preened a little at that.

“He often strolls right up to tourists and asks them where the Vignes tomb is located as he’s having trouble finding it himself. He’s even been known to appear at funerals and ask if there is any room left in there for him.”

Selene giggled, she couldn’t help it and Henry winked at her, tipping his hat before fading away.

“Are you sure he was still there?” John asked later that night as the tour returned to the french quarter meeting place.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she sighed. “I don’t know what happened there, you seemed to see-”

“And hear,” John added.

“And hear him just fine. Then all of a sudden you couldn’t anymore.”

“I couldn’t at first either,” he reminded her, “I thought you were talking to yourself.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she grumbled. “Sometimes I’m the only person that will listen to me.”

“Was there anything you did that might have allowed me to see him?” John asked, ignoring her insinuation that he never listened to her. He listened to her all the time, he was just selective with what he chose to reply to, knowing she needed very little encouragement with some of her more ridiculous ideas.

“No, I didn’t do anything at all,” she promised him. “All I did was move you closer so I could point him out.”

“You took hold of my hand,” he said, mentally rerunning the moment in his head. “And kept hold of it the whole time.”

“Not the whole time,” she reminded him. “When Henry did his haunting voice that lady stumbled and you caught her before she hit the deck.”

“And I didn’t hold your hand again until we were walking back,” he finished.

“Nah, it can’t be that simple,” she scoffed. “I hold your hand all the time.”

“But have you ever done it while there was a spirit around?” he asked, guiding her around a group of drunken young ladies all carrying brightly coloured cocktails in yard long plastic containers with straws sticking out of them, most of which were being eagerly slurped from as they walked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, thinking about it. “I don’t think so now that you mention it.”

“Do you think that could be another side effect of that little bonding mistake we made?”

“I guess anything is possible,” she mused. “Tanzi did say that we might keep noticing new things for a while after.”

“I guess there’s only one way to know for sure,” he shrugged, “you’ll just have to make sure you tell me next time you see one.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she promised him. He smiled at that, knowing how just a few years ago she would never have dared to even agree to try, let alone have any intention of doing so. Her ex, Nathaniel was responsible for messing up many things in her life, her confidence in herself and her abilities being one of them, but John was determined that, no matter how long it took, he was going to prove to her that she never needed to be wary again.

Bourbon street at night was like no place they had ever been before. They heard it before they even got close, the neon lights glowing from a distance. The lights reminded Selene of London but that was where the similarities ended.

The entire street was a wall of noise, music of all kinds seeming to spill out of every single bar on the strip on either side. She felt John tense beside her, knowing that it wasn’t somewhere he would be at all comfortable.

“Do you want to try and avoid it?” she asked and he nodded gratefully. A quick word with Remi and they had secured directions and a suggestion to head down Dauphine St instead of continuing onto Bourbon. They could follow it until they reached St Phillip’s St which would lead them to the intersection where their hotel was located.

They thanked him and Delphine for a fun and informative tour and struck out on their own. Dauphine street was much quieter than Bourbon appeared to be, there were still small crowds milling around outside but not enough to send John into flight mode, so they took that as a win.

“Want to grab a drink?” John offered but Selene shook her head.

“No thanks, I’m not really feeling it today, maybe it’s the crowds or all the walking but I think I’d rather wait until we get closer to the hotel, that way we can find a quieter one to try before we head to bed.”

“Good plan,” he agreed, pulling her in closer. It was only eleven at night, relatively early for them, but they had had a long day and the thought of the comfy bed awaiting them was a very pleasant one.

They located the intersection where Dauphine met St Paul's and soon hit the tail end of Bourbon. From there the music was far more bearable, seeming to be a mixture of classic rock, Selene could hear Smoke on the Water playing from a bar, and some kind of Jazz.

With Virgil, Scott and Jeff being fans of old fashioned Jazz music they decided to move a little further in that direction, meaning to take a video or two to show the others when they got home. That was their first mistake.

“No, no way,” John protested as a woman separated herself from the crowd outside the bar where a band was playing and grabbed his hand.

“Come on, honey, you have to dance,” she insisted, swirling on the spot and dragging him with her.

“Help!” he yelped as his arm was pulled this way and that by the enthusiastic woman.

“Little busy,” Selene laughed, having been swept up into the arms of a man who was trying to lead her in some kind of 1920’s era Jazz hop dance that involved a lot of quick footwork and much arm waving.

John managed to escape as the band paused before launching into their next number and stole Selene back. She took full advantage, holding on to his hand as the music began to play again.

A couple near them started something that looked vaguely like a charleston mixed with a waltz that Selene was determined to try to copy. Neither she nor John were very good, not knowing the steps or the music enough to actually follow along and ended up finding their own rhythm, not caring that they didn’t match the others, not caring that they were slower and less energetic. It was nice, it was simple and it was very much them.

“Thank you for forcing me to celebrate my birthday,” she said, pulling him in closer to steal a quick kiss.

“My pleasure,” he grinned, twirling her on the spot then dipping her in his arms. “Anything for the birthday girl.”

-x-

“It was so nice to see Myst again,” Selene sighed, relaxing deeper into the passenger seat of Jeff’s jet as they cruised over the Pacific, on course for Tracy Island.

“I haven’t seen her in two years, not since she last visited Tanzi, I can’t believe how great the shop looked, they’ve run it for years but don’t get to spend much time there.”

“Well, with what we spent they'll still be open for at least another ten,” he teased, not in the least concerned by her shopping spree. You only turned thirty once and if she wanted to buy up half of the shop that was her choice.

“I didn’t buy that much,” she pouted, but couldn’t hold it for too long when, with a no doubt on purpose twitch of the controls, the little plane rolled sideways, sending a number of bags cascading to the floor.

“You were saying?”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” she huffed, trying not to laugh. "You said they were birthday presents.”

“So I did,” he agreed, lifting his hand off her knee to poke the console, bringing up a comm line to the island, announcing their impending arrival.

Virgil had messaged earlier that morning to say that he was picking up Celia and Adam in time for their return, so all they had to worry about was enjoying a leisurely breakfast.

They took him at his word and shared a delicious three egg omelette, an order of beignets and the best coffee she had tasted in forever. Bellies full and suitably rested after an uneventful nights sleep in the hotel, the resident ghosts declining to visit, they had wandered around Jackson Square and the shops of the French quarter.

John had insisted that he was hungry again and craving something special for lunch, that something special had turned out to be oysters. Selene had watched in morbid fascination mixed with horror as he had proceeded to devour a dozen oysters speckled with hot sauce, which she refused to try, while she munched her seafood salad. She was still undecided if watching him swallow them down whole so easily was hot or disturbing, the jury was still out.

Cherise had been as good as her word, waiting for them to dock from the ferry and taxing them to the bar where the jet waited for them. They had waved a happy goodbye after awkwardly stuffing their shopping (the pieces they hadn’t arranged to have delivered) and overnight bags into the back and taken off for home.

“I hope mum doesn’t make dinner awkward,” Selene sighed, knowing that with her family anything was possible. “I know she’s going to be a bit disappointed that I didn’t want to spend the actual day with her.”

“Then let her, you can always blame it on me.”

“My hero,” she smiled, lifting his hand to her lips to kiss it. “What would I do without you?”

“Marry Scott?” he joked, ducking out of the way of the smack she aimed at his shoulder.

“I think Cat would have something to say about that,” she huffed. “Besides, you know you’re the only man for me.”

“I know, but it’s nice to be reminded now and then.”

She was still giggling, feeling relaxed and happily clinging to his arm, as the lift from the hangars completed its ascent, the doors opening to spill them out into the hall just beyond the lounge.

“Why do I hear music?” Selene asked suspiciously.

“I have no idea,” John admitted as they rounded the corner into the lounge.

Selene stopped dead in the doorway, as did John, unable to believe what they were seeing with their own two eyes.

“Am I that old now that I need glasses,” she whispered, “or am I actually seeing this?”

“Unfortunately it’s very real,” he whispered back, wrapping his arm around her protectively.

The lounge lights were flickering to the beat of the music, someone had laid out food on the coffee table, including a plate of mini sausages that Armstrong was steadily working his way through and someone had opened the concealed drinks cabinet.

It wasn’t the fact that there was quite clearly a party in full swing, a party that she had said on no uncertain terms wasn’t to happen, it wasn’t the fact that the entire family , plus her mother, Adam, Cat, Penelope, Parker, Bandon, Conrad and Moffie were all there.

No, it was the fact that each and every one of them was sporting a wig in various shades and stripes of purple and black. Wigs they had apparently teamed with half the contents of her wardrobe and every band T-shirt Jeff had ever collected.

“What the ever loving fu-”

The music quietened as the party animals realised they were no longer alone. They looked at John and Selene rather guiltily, not saying a word.

Scott, who had somehow squeezed his chest back into her favourite corset, was tossed under the bus and shoved forward to greet her.

“I’m going to kill you,” she hissed, trying to back away as he advanced on her, arms open in anticipation of a hug.

The world's most annoying best friend simply grinned at her, flashing those dimples that he knew she could never resist.

She tried to duck behind John but Scott was too quick for her, herding her directly into the path of the oncoming Virgil.

She was swept up into a bone crushing bear hug, vanishing under the tide of Tracys that descended to join in.

-x-

“Admit it, it wasn’t that bad,” John said, catching up with her beside the pool and handing her another can of her favourite cherry coke.

“I didn’t want a party,” she argued.

“But…”

“But I guess it wasn’t that bad,” she admitted, moving over on the padded bench seat to make room for him to sit next to her.

“They only did it because they love you.”

“I know, but they are all idiots.”

“I know, but it was a special birthday and they wanted to celebrate with you.”

“I know,” she said, leaning against his side with a contented sigh.

"I've got a present for you," he announced, jiggling his shoulder to get her to move and shifting so he could dig into his hoodie pocket.

"Really? Why?"

"Because it's your birthday."

"You really didn't have to, New Orleans was more than enough."

"The trip was supposed to have been for our anniversary, I just moved it forward," he reminded her. "Besides, I'd be a pretty lousy husband if I didn't get you something special to mark the occasion."

He offered her a bright green velvet pouch which looked to contain something rectangular and hard.

"Open it," he instructed.

"OK." She did as he bid, noticing that he was watching her very closely. Did he think she wouldn't like it?

She loosened the draw strings and tipped the pouch up, catching the bundle of cards that slid out.

"Tarot cards? What are they…" she paused, turning them over, her eyes widening as she realised exactly what they depicted.

"Oh my gods," she gasped then burst out laughing. "These are amazing!"

She flicked through them quickly, laughing even more at some of the pictures, each matching perfectly with the subject.

"Where the hell did you find Muppets Tarot cards?" Kermit was the Emperor, Miss Piggy his Empress, Fozzy the Fool, Sam the Eagle as Justice, Animal as the Devil and most perfect of all, Statler and Waldorf as Judgement.

"Tanzi put me in touch with someone who makes one of a kind sets to order," he replied, breathing a little easier now that he saw she liked them.

"They're perfect, absolutely perfect. I love them so much."

"Good," he smiled, slipping his arm back around her waist and pulling her in closer. "I wasn't sure if it was something you would like or I should actually buy for you and didn't want to do the wrong thing. But Tanzi said that tarot cards are often gifted to people so it was OK."

"Why would you think I wouldn't like them?" she asked softly.

"I know how important your tools are to you and how Nathaniel never respected them. I guess I wanted to show you that I care too, that I'll always respect you and your beliefs."

"You are the best husband in the world," she assured him, pulling him closer for a kiss. "I love that you did this and I love that you know me so well that you could commission the most perfect set of cards just for me. Thank you, I love them."

"You're very welcome. I'm glad you like them."

"You always surprise me, just when I think you couldn't be any more amazing you pull something like this out of the bag, literally," she laughed, holding up the green pouch.

"So, does this mean that you enjoyed turning thirty?"

“I guess, as birthdays go, it wasn’t too awful.”

“Not too awful?” he mock gasped, clutching his heart.

“Not awful,” she repeated, tipping her head back for another kiss. “Did you know they were planning all that?”

“Not all of it,” he admitted, “I suspected that they might not stick to a quiet meal but the rest was as much of a surprise to me as it was you.”

She let out an elegant snort in response, clearly not convinced.

“Honestly it was,” he promised, making the rescue scout sign. "Scouts honour."

“OK, I believe you, even though you weren't the scout, Scott was.”

“Thank you,” he grinned, draping his arm around her shoulders, his head tipped back to look up at the night sky above their heads. “All over for another year, how do you feel?”

“Better than I did yesterday morning,” she answered.

“Good, then my work here is done.”

She nodded, resting her head against his shoulder, just enjoying the peace of the late night,

“You’re quiet,” he said softly a few minutes later. “Everything alright?”

“Yep,” she promised. "I'm just thinking.”

“Care to share what you’re thinking so hard about?”

“Yep,” she repeated, grinning evilly. “I was thinking that mine isn't the only special birthday this year.”

Realisation dawned on him, a feeling of dread skittering up his spine.

“No, absolutely not.”

“But you said it yourself, you only turn thirty once.”

“No.”

“You forced me to celebrate, so it’s your turn next.”

“No, listen to me very carefully. I, as your husband, forbid it.”

“I’m thinking of a nice, relaxing trip somewhere quiet. I’ve heard that Finland does an amazing range of glass igloos to stay in to watch the sky, it's supposed to be beautiful that time of year.”

That didn't sound too bad, he had to admit.

“OK, that wouldn’t be too terrible,” he agreed, breathing a sigh of relief. “For a second I thought you were going to say you were planning a party.”

“Would I do that?” she asked innocently, sliding out of his arms and off the bench. "I'm just going to show these to Mum, she'll have a fit."

“No, you aren't. Get back here. I forbid you to even think about planning a party."

"I'm not planning anything," she said, deftly avoiding his attempts to catch her and pull her back down.

"Promise me you won't plan a party," he pleaded.

"I promise," she vowed, dancing around the side of the pool towards the kitchen.

John's eyes narrowed, she looked entirely too suspicious…

“I’m going to leave that to Scott.”

She dropped her bombshell, turned tail and ran like her life depended on it.

#selene tempest #John Tracy #birthday girl #birthday trip #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds 2015 #healthy relationships #relationship goals

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mikauzoran · 3 years

Text

Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Seventeen

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Seventeen: Broken Families

“Sup, G Flat,” Xavier-Yves greeted as he descended the stairs into the main cabin of the Liberty.

Adrien grimaced but mentally reminded himself to be nice for Luka’s sake.

“Hi, XY. Luka’s actually not here right now. He’s out with the Capitaine, and I don’t think they’ll be back soon,” he informed, hoping that that would be the end of his exposure to the popstar for the day.

XY shrugged, taking a seat on the opposite limb of the L-shaped couch from Adrien.

“That’s okay,” XY assured as he made himself comfortable, spreading out like a starfish and pulling his laptop out of his bag. “You probably don’t know this because you’re still pretty new here, but I have the okay to just kick it here whenever I want.”

Adrien nodded, internally cursing his lot in life. “I see. That’s cool.”

“Yeppers,” Xavier-Yves agreed, barely paying Adrien any mind as he started up his audio editing program.

Adrien set aside the book he’d borrowed from Luka, seeing that he wasn’t going to get any more reading done in XY’s presence.

“How long do you think you’ll hang out?” Adrien inquired, trying to sound interested rather than rude and impatient for Xavier-Yves to leave.

XY shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe a couple hours? Probably until this evening.”

Adrien mentally swore.

“I’m hiding from my dad,” XY added voluntarily.

Adrien frowned. “Why?”

XY clicked his tongue. “He’s trying to set me up with some actress. You know. For publicity and all that.”

Adrien shuddered. “My father made me do that a couple times. I’ve always hated that kind of thing.”

“Dude, I know!” XY exclaimed, looking up from his computer screen. “Sucks, right?!”

Adrien nodded. “I mean, some of the girls were okay, and I may have even been able to like one or two of them in earnest if we’d met more naturally and it had been our decision to date, but…those arrangements are so staged. I always resented them as just one more thing Father was making me do against my will and completely ignoring my wishes about.”

“Tch. Yeah,” Xavier-Yves scoffed. “Trust me. I hear you.”

Just as suddenly as the conversation started, it ended, and XY seemed to go back to his laptop.

Adrien gave his book a sidelong look, debating whether to take it up to the deck to continue reading in peace.

Before he could come to a decision, XY broke back into Adrien’s thoughts.

“…So…you’re bi or what?”

Adrien gave a start. “What?”

“You said you could have liked some of the girls your dad made you date,” XY explained, “but I always thought you had a thing for Luka…so are you bi or in denial or what?”

Adrien stared at his love rival for a moment, trying to determine whether he should be affronted by XY’s abrupt demands for personal information.

Xavier-Yves looked at Adrien expectantly with seemingly no malice or agenda hidden behind his words.

It was then that Adrien remembered what Luka had told him about XY’s penchant for coming across as rude due to his lack of normal socialization—something Adrien could, unfortunately, relate to.

Adrien decided to take XY’s question in good faith and answered, “I think I’m probably bi.”

XY cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean you think you’re bi? Isn’t that something you just know?”

Adrien shifted uncomfortably under Xavier-Yves’s scrutiny. “I think it’s confusing because the media really only shows men and women ending up with one another, so that’s how I thought it had to be when I was growing up. I didn’t realize guys were actually an option until later, and I’ve mostly just been interested in girls so far. I mean, I can tell if a guy is attractive, but Luka’s the only guy I’ve ever been attracted to in practice, not just in theory.”

XY blinked several times, trying to parse Adrien’s response. “…So…you’re bi?”

“At least as far as Luka’s concerned,” Adrien confirmed with a shrug.

“You make my head hurt,” XY announced. “You’re just thinking about it too much.”

“Maybe,” Adrien chuckled, musing that XY might have accidentally stumbled upon the truth.

Xavier-Yves shook his head. “I’ve always known I was gay. I never even looked at girls as a kid.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “I-I’m sorry. I always assumed you were bi. Well…after I found out about your feelings for Luka, anyway. Until then, I thought you were straight.”

XY rolled his eyes and waved dismissively. “That’s because my dad says I have to stay in the closet.”

Adrien’s jaw descended several centimeters. “He what?”

XY nodded, setting his laptop aside and angling more towards Adrien. “My dad says that gay doesn’t sell and that all of my fangirls will stop buying my music and coming to concerts if they find out I only like dudes, so I can’t tell anyone I’m gay.”

Adrien blinked dumbly, finding himself wondering if his own father would react similarly if he found out about Adrien being queer. A lot of people in fashion were, so maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal, but…somehow, Adrien got the feeling that Gabriel would probably prefer it if Adrien kept that fact to himself and found a nice female partner.

“…I’m sorry,” Adrien mumbled, suddenly seeing past the annoying, inconvenient aspects of XY to the very real person with problems and feelings and dreams underneath.

XY shrugged. “Is what it is. Just don’t you go tellin’ people.”

“I would never do that,” Adrien was quick to assure.

XY gave a snort as he nodded. “Good.”

“…So…you’re not allowed to date?” Adrien inquired, morbid curiosity getting the best of him.

XY shook his head. “Nah. Dad would flip. It’s okay, though. I’ve never been really into anyone before, so it was, like, whatever.”

Adrien’s eyebrow arched. “What about Luka? You seem pretty into him.”

“Luka’s different,” Xavier-Yves confirmed with a passionate punch to the words. “He’s the one, you know?”

Adrien dropped his gaze, wilting slightly because he knew that fact all too well.

“I’d come out, if he wanted me to,” XY continued. “I don’t know. Luka’s kind of quiet and private, so I don’t know if he’d want to make it all public, but he’d at least want to tell his friends who he was seeing, so it would get out there eventually. I wouldn’t care, though. He’s worth it.”

“You really care about him a lot,” Adrien whispered.

“You bet I do,” XY insisted. “You know how annoying and dumb I am.”

Adrien’s head jerked up at the blatant self-deprecation.

“Not a lot of people like me. A lot of people pretend to because they want something, but they don’t actually like me,” XY snorted.

Adrien suddenly felt a chill at hearing circumstances that so closely echoed his own.

“Luka didn’t like me at first, and he had a good excuse not to, but instead of telling me to get lost when I came to ask him to teach me about loving music, he put up with me,” XY recounted with a soft look of gratitude and affection in his placid blue eyes.

“He was really patient, and he taught me and helped me be a better person. My dad taught me a lot of bad things.” His eyes dropped to the floor as he confessed his past shortcomings. “I didn’t know they were bad until Luka told me so…so I owe him a lot. I’d do anything for him.”

Adrien nodded passively, averting his gaze as he wondered if Luka wouldn’t be better off with XY than himself.

Xavier-Yves could give Luka fortune and industry contacts, and while “Roth” wasn’t the most well-liked surname in Paris, it was worlds ahead of “Agreste” which had become synonymous with “dirt” a month previously when Papillon’s identity had been revealed.

Maybe Adrien should step aside romantically and focus on being a good, supportive friend to Luka.

“I’d do anything for him,” Xavier-Yves repeated solemnly, “…even if that meant bowing out and supporting his happiness with you.”

Adrien’s head jerked up again, and he gaped at XY in disbelief. “What?”

XY shrugged. “The most important thing is that Luka is happy, yeah?”

Adrien nodded, still not understanding. “Yes. Absolutely. But…what does that have to do with me?”

XY shook his head. “You’re important to him. We’re both really important to him. I can’t tell you how many times he’s asked me to try to play nice with you these past few weeks because he wants us both in his life, and he wants us all to get along.”

Adrien’s lips rounded into a small “o”.

XY nodded. “I want him to be happy. Even if you win, I want him to be happy, so I’m gonna try to be friends with you because it’s important to Luka.”

Adrien slowly began to nod. “Okay. I can’t promise I’ll ever really like you much, but I’m going to tolerate you for Luka’s sake. So, let’s make this work, okay?”

“Deal,” XY agreed with a wide grin, holding out his fist to Adrien for a fist bump.

Chuckling, Adrien leaned forward and touched his fist to XY’s.

“…So,” Xavier-Yves remarked after the moment had passed. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

Adrien shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“How good’s your English?” XY asked, grabbing his laptop and opening up his video library.

“Not fluent, but I should be able to watch a movie without subtitles,” Adrien replied, moving to sit next to Xavier-Yves.

XY looked up at Adrien and tipped his head to the side. “You ever heard of Abbott and Costello?”

Adrien frowned, searching his memory banks. “…The comedy duo?”

XY nodded enthusiastically, a wide grin quickly spreading from one cheek to the other. “They’re super dope. You’ll love them. Let’s watch In Society. It’s got one of my favourite routines.”

“All right,” Adrien easily agreed, reasoning that he owed it to Luka and himself to make an effort. “Sounds good.”

A little over an hour later, Luka returned to find Adrien and Xavier-Yves in a pile on the couch, leaning on one another to keep themselves upright as they chortled, “He’s not dead, Lady! He’s hiding!”

“I see you showed him Abbott and Costello?” Luka remarked, announcing his presence.

XY pushed himself up to grin adoringly at Luka. “Yeah. We were just thinking about watching another. Wanna join us?”

“Sure,” Luka chuckled, coming around to their side of the couch.

Adrien scooted over to make room for Luka between himself and XY.

“After all, it’s not every day that two of my best friends are able to spend time together without wanting to kill one another. We should do something to celebrate,” Luka reasoned.

“We’re not that bad. We just…verbally snipe at each other sometimes,” Adrien giggled, quickly snuggling up to Luka at exactly the same moment XY wrapped his arm around Luka’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” XY seconded. “The only friend of yours I want to kill is that Jacob loser.”

Luka groaned, rolling his eyes.

Adrien lifted his head to look around Luka at Xavier-Yves. “Jacob?”

XY nodded. “That bassist in his band. He’s Luka’s ex.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “We can’t be civil with Luka’s exes?”

XY’s eyes narrowed. “Jacob’s one of the four he slept with.”

“Oh,” Adrien replied flatly, his opinion abruptly changing.

“Yeah. Those ones are dead to me,” Xavier-Yves snorted.

“Can we not talk about my love life?” Luka sighed, tipping his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It’s really not that interesting. Let’s watch the movie.”

XY clicked his tongue. “I beg to be different. I am super interested in the people you’ve slept with.”

“Prune,” Luka groaned. “Drop it. I’ve been the adult in this household since I was ten. I’m allowed to sleep with whomever my little demi heart loves.”

“Would you sleep with me?” XY wondered curiously.

Luka’s cheeks flushed as he pointedly avoided Xavier-Yves’s gaze. “No comment.”

“Would you sleep with him?” XY pressed, jabbing a finger at Adrien.

Luka choked on air, making a wheezing sound of distress.

“No comment,” he managed with some effort.

“How about a threesome?” Xavier-Yves suggested amicably.

Adrien burst out laughing, snuggling in closer.

“For the love of whatever you hold sacred, start the movie already before I strangle you,” Luka pleaded.

“I could be into that,” XY replied, waggling his eyebrows.

Luka threw his hands up in the air, exclaiming, “Aaaaah!”

This caused Adrien to laugh even harder.

XY joined in.

#Lukadrien #LuXY #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Xavier-Yves Roth #XY #Love Rivals #Fluff #Slow Burn #Friends to Lovers #Pining #Mutual Pining #Broken Families #Lukadrien June 2021 #Writing Prompts #Mikau's Writings #Your Hands Hold Home

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marvelousstevetony · 4 years

Text

Cuddles

I was in the mood for some soft stevetony, so I wrote this short little thing.

Post-mission Steve who just wanted to come home to cuddles after a long day. Cue Tony being the sweetest boyfriend ever. (1.8k, fluff, established relationship)

Steve let out a deep sigh of relief as the lift door closed behind him and he entered the penthouse. Dropping his too-heavy bag immediately, he wiped at his face with his hands, tiredly rubbing his eyes. The mission had been long, the debrief impossibly longer, and all Steve wanted to do was to curl into his bed with-

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Steve couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth twisted into a weak smile behind hands, then letting his arms fall down to his sides as all energy was drained from his muscles. His eyes were barely open, and he heard Tony walking towards him more than he saw it.

“Hey.” Steve’s voice was low and husky, sounding as if it took all the strength he had left to mumble a one-syllable word.

“Hey there, soldier,” Tony said warmly, raising a hand to cup Steve’s cheek, instantly feeling the way the blonde leaned into the caressing touch. “You’re home. Finally.”

“Finally,” Steve agreed and gave what was supposed to be a confirming nod. He reached around Tony’s waist, drawing him into a close embrace and buried his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. Tony didn’t oppose, allowing Steve’s weight to drop into his arms. He squeezed the super-soldier a little tighter, afraid his knees might buckle under if he let go of him.

They stood there for a long moment before Tony drew back a little. Steve pouted as they parted, looking for all the world like a child who was denied an ice cream, and Tony smiled softly at him, stroking his fringe away from his face.

Steve ducked his head sheepishly, but Tony’s hand was persistent on his jaw, nudging his chin back up. “Let me see those baby blues. There we go.”

Though Steve’s eyes were weary and only half-open, Tony could still see the twinkle in them. God, he could look at those azure-colored jewels forever and never get tired of them.

“Have you been to medical? Are you hurt badly?” He then asked, concernedly, but Steve just shook his head.

“No, I’m… I’m okay, nothing too bad. Just a few scratches. Bruises,” Steve slurred vaguely and shrugged as nonchalantly as he could with that blurred and fatigued expression on his face.

“I think you’re in for a long, hot bath. Have you eaten anything?” Tony already knew the answer.

“‘M not hungry,” Steve mumbled. “Just need sleep… ‘n cuddles.”

Tony chuckled. “I’ll give you all the cuddles you want, after you’re cleaned up and have had something to eat.”

Steve whimpered, clearly not happy with Tony’s stubborn announcement. It was usually Steve who had to make sure Tony showered and ate, not the other way around.

Not really knowing what to do, Steve just pulled Tony back into a hug, but this time, the genius retracted.

“Nuh uh, Steven. You’re stalling now,” Tony concluded. “How about you go get out of that grimy uniform, and I will run you the most luxurious bath you’ll ever see. I’ll even add the fancy bath salts, the whole shebang if you’re a good soldier and do as you’re told.”

“I thought I was the Captain,” Steve teased, still in that low voice that did things to Tony.

“Not tonight. Tonight, you’re Steve; boyfriend of Tony Stark and subject of excessive care-taking.”

Steve leaned in with a content smile on his face and brushed a gentle kiss onto Tony’s parted lips. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah?” Tony whispered against Steve’s mouth, and the blonde confirmed his statement with a hum. “Well then you better get going. I’ll give you a whole five minutes, you're an older man, after all.”

“Mhmm… doesn’t older men need help to get out of this sort of gear?” Steve asked with a tired yet cheeky smirk.

Tony raised an eyebrow but he couldn’t stop himself from returning Steve’s smirk with one of his own. “As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think you’re really up for that, if you’re being honest. Besides, you were the one who said you needed sleep,” he points out.

“And cuddles,” Steve adds.

“And cuddles, of course. Both of which you won’t get until you’re clean and fed. Capiche?”

“Understood, mr. Stark.”

A moan glided over Steve’s lips as he slipped into the bathtub, feeling the warm water overflow his battered body. He wasn’t hurt too badly; probably a few cracked ribs, maybe a minor concussion, and definitely a large amount of painful bruises that were visibly covering his torso, but nothing the serum couldn’t take care of.

He closed his eyes and leaned back, tension bleeding out of his shoulders as he relaxed. Steve may have been reluctant at first, but right now, he was thankful for how well Tony knew what he needed — even when Steve himself didn’t.

The smell of lavender filled Steve’s nostrils when he drew in a long breath through his nose. Tony was the king of everything bath or pamper related. He’d even lit candles and dimmed the lights to avoid Steve’s pounding headache getting worse.

It was so relaxing, Steve was on the verge of falling asleep when Tony walked into the en suite carrying a pile of Steve’s sleepwear.

“You look comfortable,” Tony spoke softly as he sat down on the floor next to the bathtub, grabbing the one of Steve’s hands that was hanging over the edge and gave it a squeeze.

“I am. Thank you, Tony,” Steve said and pulled the brunette’s hand to him mouth, placing a tender peck inside his palm, then another on the back of his hand.

Tony could feel the warmth rising to his face. Tony Stark didn’t blush, that was a known fact. Tony Stark was cool and collected, unimpressed and impossible to embarrass. One could simply not make Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, philanthropist, go shy. Except if your name was Steve Rogers.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart. You deserve it,” Tony said sincerely. “And who knows, maybe when you’re back to full health you’ll pay me back in some way.”

Steve cracked an eye open, watching as Tony winked cheekily. They both chuckled at the flirtatious act, honest and genuine. Whenever Tony laughed like that, his eyes would crinkle and a small dimple would appear on his cheek, and all Steve could think about was how badly he wanted to trace every line of Tony’s face with his fingers, softly and gently.

“Maybe it’s time you get out of there. Y’know, before my boyfriend turns into a prune. You know how hard it’d be to cuddle a prune?” Tony joked and helped Steve out of the bathtub, then handed him the towel.

Tony went to the kitchen to grab some food as Steve got changed, and while Steve still wasn’t very hungry, he knew had had to eat something or he’d be completely wiped out when he’d wake up. This was one of the downsides to the serum; if he skipped too many meals, which was sometimes inevitable with his schedule, he’d feel so weak and dizzy because of his super-soldier metabolism. So he had to eat.

(Tony would probably also declare him guilty of a severe case of double standards as Steve had preached about the importance of getting enough food on a number of occasions.)

Steve dressed himself in a pair of checked pajama-pants and a soft, white t-shirt and turned off the bathroom lights as he entered the bedroom and sat down on the large bed.

His cheeks were flushed pink from the heat of the water and his hair was a damp, disheveled mess. Eyes droopy and body heavy, he threw himself backwards into the pillows, stretched his large frame out on the bed and groaned in relief.

“And now I have starfish spread out on my bed. Well, I guess you are the Star Spangled Man, so” Tony grinned at Steve’s star-shaped position. He was carrying a tray with a steaming pot of something that smelled absolutely amazing. He sat the tray down in front of Steve, carefully, so that he wouldn’t spill it.

“It’s nothing fancy, just some soup and tea. I didn’t know if you’d wanhmpt-“ Tony started but never finished his sentence as his lips were suddenly pressed to Steve’s. The kiss was sweet and gentle and unmistakably filled with love.

“It’s perfect, Tony,” Steve said when he drew back, and Tony smiled, once again, bashfully.

They got settled in bed, and Steve tugged into the soup and sipped at the tea, feeling more and more sleepy as his stomach filled with warm substance. He had nearly dozed off while holding the tea in his hands, but Tony quickly caught it before he could spill it. (Tony’s reflexes might not be quite as good as Steve’s, or even Clint or Natasha’s, but he was still rather fast, thank you very much.)

When Steve had finished eating and was no longer risking dropping boiling water onto himself, Tony had moved to take the bowl and cup back to the kitchen, but right when he tried to stand up, Steve grabbed Tony by the wrist. The blonde was lying with his face buried in the pillows, eyes closed and most of his body lay limply under the covers.

“Don’ go.” Steve’s voice was muffled by the pillows. “Promised me cuddles.”

“I’ll be back in two minutes, sweetheart, then you can have as many cuddles as you’d like” Tony tried, but Steve just pulled him down beside him, shuffling closer to Tony until his head lay on Tony’s chest, face now buried in Tony’s t-shirt.

“I don’ wan’ my fella to leave,” Steve murmured in that thick Brooklyn-drawl that seemed to come through whenever he got really tired, and Tony’s chest filled with affection.

“Okay. Okay, I won’t leave then,” Tony said and kissed the top Steve head, nuzzling his face into the soft, freshly-washed, blonde hair. Pleased and tired, Steve sighed and when Tony began stroking his fingers up and down Steve’s bruised back, he could hear the way his breathing slowly evened out.

“I love you, Steve,” Tony said out into the open air, casting one last glance over his lover’s face. He is so beautiful, Tony thought to himself. The thought of falling asleep and waking up to this every night and every day for the rest of his life made something swell inside him, and when Steve returned his sentiment with a quiet “I love you” and pressed his already sleep-warm body closer to Tony’s, Tony felt as though his heart might just burst with happiness.

God. Tony loved Steve so much, and for once in his life, he didn’t doubt that his love was reciprocated.

#stony #stevetony #my fic #steve rogers #tony stark #fluff #i love these two a lot #like a lot a lot #steve just wants cuddles #i want to hug them both

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dessarious · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt72

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Bruce waited impatiently in the living room surrounded by his family and Diana Prince. He’d been surprised to see her in her civilian form but once she got over the initial shock of the Miraculous users being teenagers she’d been staunchly on their side. He still had no idea if the Ladybug and her team were showing up transformed or not. He had no idea how many were even coming.

Barbara seemed more tense than the rest though he wasn’t sure why. He knew she’d spent a lot of time talking to Tim the last couple days though he had no idea what about. Dick and Steph were both about to vibrate off the couch in their excitement. He wasn’t entirely sure why but he’d heard them mention something about Ladybug hopefully having black hair and blue eyes in her civilian form so they could get a new sister. It was nonsense that he could only roll his eyes at. Jason was calm and that honestly worried him. Cass was… well Cass. She wasn’t very emotive on her best days and right now was no exception. She never participated when they discussed Paris’ Heroes so he wasn’t certain what she thought of this whole thing other than she’d agreed to be here not suited up.

When the portal finally opened he almost let out a sigh of relief. The first through were Tim and a horse themed holder who were arguing about various things from the sound of it. Next came a boy with teal hair and a blonde girl, both of which just seemed done with the other two. When the portal closed behind them he was a bit surprised, slightly less so when the horse themed hero turned into Damian. Neither one of the other two looked like Ladybug, both were too tall for starters, but perhaps the transformations could change them more drastically than they’d thought.

“Father I’d like to introduce Luka Couffaine, who holds the Snake Miraculous as Viperion.” The boy with the teal hair smiled calmly and nodded to them all. “Chloe Bourgeois, who holds the Black Cat Miraculous as Discorde.” The blonde girl had been sizing them up the entire time and was still just looking at them with an air of calm disdain. “And…” Damian let out a string of curses. “Is she seriously asleep?” Luka looked amused but Chloe just turned her annoyed glare on his son.

“She has been ever since you two refused to stop arguing about things that had already been decided. She’s had an extremely taxing week and none of this is helping.” She was speaking through gritted teeth, as though trying not to yell, and Bruce finally noticed that she was carrying someone on her back. Damian just glared back at the girl but Tim immediately looked guilty. While Chloe and Damian continued to try and stared the other into submission Luka reached behind Chloe to the person she was carrying.

“Come on Maribug, time to wake up.” They all heard a groan and saw matching fond smiles on Chloe and Luka’s faces. There was a hint of movement before a face appeared over Chloe’s shoulder, one hand rubbing sleep from her eyes. Bruce couldn’t help but notice how worn down the girl looked. It wasn’t having just woken up either. Her face was pale and she had dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes were another story entirely, and that made him pause. That haunted look of having seen too much that was normally reserved for soldiers coming back from war had no business being prominent in one so young. He had hoped that the Miraculous magic made them appear younger than they were but it was painfully obvious the two girls were the same age as Damian, and the boy not much older. He looked over at Diana and she was staring at them with horror and pity. Damian cleared his throat.

“And this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng who holds the Ladybug Miraculous.” The girl offered a shy smile and wave before dropping her chin to Chloe’s shoulder. Damian went through and introduced all of them as well, noting the looks of interest when he got to Babs but no one said anything. Once he was finished Marinette offered them all a bright smile.

“It’s very nice meeting you all officially, and I would like to apologize for our last interaction. I was very pressed on time and I couldn’t afford to have any unknowns making an even bigger mess of things. It was necessary but I still feel bad about how short I was with all of you.” Trying to reconcile this exhausted ray of sunshine with the hero who had appeared in the Batcave was simply not working. Chloe being Discorde made sense. She was still staring at them all, daring them to screw something up so she could lash out at them, though he had no idea why.

“You can put her down you know. No one here is going to attack you.” Luka winced as Chloe actually growled at Diana’s words. Bruce was just thankful it hadn’t been one of his family to cause that reaction and he watched Marinette whisper in Chloe’s ear, obviously trying to calm the girl down. When she finally turned to Diana she just looked resigned.

“She can’t put me down actually. I was paralyzed in the last confrontation with Hawkmoth in a way that Tikki couldn’t heal.” Diana’s astonishment was written all over her face and she didn’t seem to be able to respond. Suddenly their interest in Babs made a lot more sense.

“That’s why you’ve been hounding me about wheelchairs and everything else related to my condition.” Tim just nodded and Barbara turned a sympathetic gaze to Marinette. “You need anything you call me. It’s rough, especially at the beginning, but it helps to have a good support system.”

“I definitely have that.” He noted the way her arms tightened on her partner. “And once my parents stop freaking out about everything I’m sure it’ll get even better.” Chloe let out an amused snort but Luka looked concerned.

“You never did say how telling your parents about all this went.” Marinette let out a sigh.

“Well their immediate reaction was to ground me. I told them I’d appreciate the break as soon as the meeting with the Justice League is over. They didn’t really seem to know what to do with that information. It’s a lot to take in and honestly I would have rather eased them into it, but with the way things happened…” Her guilt as plain but it took a minute for Bruce to really catch on to the meaning.

“Wait, are you telling me that you’ve been Ladybug for over two years and your parents didn’t know?” She just nodded but Chloe started glaring at Damian again.

“No one knew until your son decided that his temper tantrum was more important than Mari’s privacy.” All eyes turned to Damian and he just scowled at them all.

“What?”

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Ko-Fi

Tag List

@noirdots @valeks-princess @chocolatecatstheron @krispydefendorpolice @bee-wrecker @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @northernbluetongue @paradoxal-occurance @scrumptiouslyelegantchaosqueen @sonif50 @thequestionablyhuman @persephonebutkore @elspethshadow @geekydragonyt @mmwolf1605 @da-tasuky @mjisntme @bluerosette23 @anjuschiffer @littleredrobinhoodlum @tazanna-blythe @resignedcatservant @schrodingers25 @seraphichana @persephonescat @punstoppablechatnoir @magicalfirebird @crazylittlemunchkin @corabeth11 @cyborgcandy @casual-darkness @shamefullove @miraculous-simmer7 @tamoni112 @cat181818meow @littleblue5mcdork @allthebooksandcrannies @enchanted-nerd @disneyfoxuniverse @fallinginthe-void @mandy984 @goggles-mcgee @fontegagrilledcheese @dorkus-minimus @theatreandcomicfreak @zerotosiki @ayuchan07 @mindfulmagics @urbanpineapplefarmer @winter-gardenflower @mooshoon @my-name-is-michell @melicmusicmagic @7-sage-7 @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @alicesangelofmusic @caffeinetheory @nataladriana9 @multplelifes @wanderingreader1019 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mvaree @redscarlet95 @storyteller-d @howabouticallyou @ginamarie1512 @kurogaya913 @tbehartoo @maddrag @two-faced-biatch @senyahgirl @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @iloontjeboontje @kakashixobito @welcometopradasa @amirahevens @amlesi @miraculousbelladonna @virgil-is-a-cutie @18-fandoms-unite-08 @cupcakeandkisses @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @book-r-the-best @dur55 @moonlightstar64 @fertileleaf @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @thecaptainthunder @danielslilangel @novicevoice @nyaabinch @interobanginyourmom @welcometopradasa @charlietheepic7 @im-here-for-the-content @maya-custodios-dionach @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @starwindmaden @tired-butterfly @rogueptoridactyl @emeraldpuffguide @suzen23smith @yuulxd @animegirlweeb @alovelyocean @kris-pines04 @semaalcocer-blog @cadencehood @jardimazul @shethecat @silent-storms-posts @simplysslytherin @tog84 @thesunanditsangel @dast218 @tall-and-angry @the-alice-of-hearts @captainmac6 @theyellowfeverexperience @chrismarium @alessialeone6997 @heaven428 @tinyterror333 @smolplantmum @lilyellowink @naoryllis @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou @magewriter @doodledeerest @athena452 @peachedpocky @tired-butterfly @risingmoonyue @lunammoon @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @bobothyross @silvergold-swirl @loysydark @heaven428 @peachedpocky @hauntedwintersweets @awesome-starfish-and-tacos @silvergold-swirl @rosesgonerogue @castielsofficialtoothbrush @myazael @aestheticnpoetic @creator-josie @sturchling @snowstar1016 @myblacknightworld @kittycatwowmeow @midnightkaito @chylou34 @hufflejournals @indecisive-mess-named-me @uwuteamleader @sassakitty @jessigurl-design @demigodgirl20031 @freshbark @soup-served-chilling @elmokingkong @unknownvsworld @thatonegaybitchfromschool @tis-i-beanbandit @damianette-is-life @peachesbackup @nobodyw8s4evr @the-fusionist @iwantwhirlledpeasandlotsatrees

#maribat #marinette dupen chang #Damian Wayne #bffmaridami

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alexiessan · 4 years

Text

Never alone - Chapter Eight - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

It’s kind of funny to write Marinette’s imagination going overboard x)

Hey, anyone ever wrote a Miraculous x Doctor Who cross over? I’ve been bing watching the serie and I’m obsessed with it!

Marinette was tired after this day, but a good tired. Working with Tim was amazing, she has learned so much in just a day and she couldn’t wait for the next.

When seeing everyone on the bus on the way back to the hotel, she was happy to find that her classmates had a good time at Wayne Enterprises. They were all talking about the things they learned and how nice the people they were working with were.

She exchanged a glance with Alya and they fist-bumped, happy that they made a good choice with this trip. They would all mature from this experience.

Arriving at the hotel, despite being tired, the designer also felt restless. She wanted to move, run or something. She wished she could go on a run on the roofs of Gotham as Ladybug but it would be too much risk and possibly compromise her identity.

Maybe Robin would agree to take her on a run on some of the safest roofs.

Marinette was in her room with Alya, reviewing all the notes she had taken while listening to Timothy. She had already filled a few pages of her brand new notebook that she bought back in Paris specifically for this internship.

Looking at the time, she realized that it was almost time for dinner and closed her book. She discreetely took a cookie out of a box and gave it to Tikki. Her eyes landed on the glasses inside, feeling a bit guilty that she kept the Miraculous inactive and that Kaalki couldn’t be with them, but it was safer this way. Hiding one kwami was already a difficult task, but two…

She didn’t want a repeat of Kwami Buster when both Tikki and Plagg were both caught by Mrs. Mendeleiev.

She preferred not to think about that event, Plagg’s presence at her school still unsettled her, despite Chat Noir claiming not knowing what school Françoise Dupont was.

She recognized a lie when she heard one, herself having to make the most ridiculous excuses to cover her superheroing.

But it was better not thinking about it, she wasn’t ready for anything regarding their identities.

And right now, she was hungry.

“Are you ready to go eat Alya? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, just let me save this on my external drive and we can go!”

She watched as the reporter did just that and started chatting about her day.

“God, Mari, I’m so happy we applied for this program. I’ve learned so much today and it was only the first day. Mrs. Finnigan taught Adrien how to handle the press when they spread false information about him and she told me all about the relations between the public relations teams and the media. I heard from Nino that he has ten pages of notes about copyrights already and it’s not over! He’s already planning to get some of his songs protected!”

“That’s great, Alya!”

The class had an essay to write about their time at Wayne Enterprises when they get back to Paris, and while it should have been a source of complaints from the students, hearing how everyone loved their time there, writing an essay about him shouldn’t be a chore for anyone.

She heard at dinner that some had even started the outline of their essays and the two girls could see how proud Miss Bustier was of her students.

The laughs from the class’ table in the hotel’s restaurant could be heard from the lobby.

His brothers were laughing at his expense and Damian was seconds away from hitting them.

And probably do way more violent things too.

During dinner, Tim related his day with Marinette, smirking at his youngest brother all the while. He was telling them what a sunshine their future sister in law was and how Damian literally ran away from her the moment he saw her in the co-CEO’s office.

And of course, Jason and Dick found it hilarious.

“You spend every night with her as Robin but you can’t handle seeing her as yourself?!”

“Shut up Todd, before I make you regret your words.”

“It’s that he just can’t handle it, Jason! He literally noped out of it!” laughed Tim along with his brothers.

Unfortunately, Tim dodged out of the way of the knife he threw at him.

Maybe he should put something sharp in his shoes when he wasn’t looking. Maybe, then, his brother would just shut up.

The youngest Robin sighed. Siblings were such a drag.

“What the hell is that thing?!”

Robin and Marinette were on the roofs of her hotel for their daily meetings and for once, she was in her pajamas without her contact on. He got used to seeing her with two blue eyes so it was a bit weird to see her with a jade green eye just like his. All that added to his cape that she was wearing, just like every day before, was enough to make the tip of his ears go red.

Damn, she was cute like this.

But it wasn’t what prompted him to react the way he did.

No, what warranted such a response was the tiny red thing that was floating next to her and looking at him with weird big blue eyes and an antenna on its head.

The bluenette laughed.

“This is Tikki. She’s a Kwami and it’s thank to her that I can transform into Ladybug. She’s been- Comment on dit, déjà ? Ah! She’s been granting me my powers ever since I got the Miraculous.”

“It’s very nice to meet you! I’m so glad Marinette found her soulmate!” the… the thing said with a high pitch that hurt his ears.

“So a literal insect is giving you your powers?” he asked, skeptical.

The kwami frowned.

“Hey! Have some respect, would you? I’m not an insect, but a Kwami! I’m basically a god!”

“A… god? This tiny thing?”

Tikki scowled and scoffed.

“I’ll go back to the room, Marinette!”

And without another glance to Robin, she disappeared.

“I think you offended her.”

“Well, excuse me for being skeptical about a tiny thing that looks like an insect being a god.”

Marinette laughed.

“I can’t blame you. When I first met her I called her a blatte-souris. Hm… a croroch-mouse?”

“A cockroach-mouse?”

“Yeah, a cockroach-mouse! Sorry.”

Robin smiled, amused.

“So, yeah. I panicked and all so I wasn’t better than you.”

She clapped her hands.

“Anyway! I was actually hoping that you would accept to take me on a run somewhere, I’m feeling restless.”

“Absolutely not.”

There was a heavy silence as Marinette just looked at him.

“Why not?”

“Do you realize how dangerous it would be? We can’t risk anyone recognizing you! Could you imagine if someone saw Robin and an unmasked girl running around Gotham? The media would have a field day!”

Robin watched as the designer thought about it and could see the moment she agreed with him.

That girl really was an open book, he thought.

“Alright, alright. Then… Maybe you could teach me some basic martial art moves? As you know, I’m basically acting on instincts as Ladybug, but it would help a lot if I actually knew how to fight. Properly. Especially since the Akumas are getting a lot more violent.”

That, he could do.

“Fine. But we’ll need to spar a little so I can assess your skills and see where to go from there.”

The Parisian beamed.

“Alright! I’m ready.”

As she got in a defensive position, the vigilante observed her carefully.

“First of all, don’t make your fist that way. Don’t put your thumb inside, but outside. You could break it upon impact.”

The teenage girl did as he said and he waited a few seconds more before he attacked.

She dodged easily but she didn’t see his next move. Of course, he didn’t put strength in his hit, the goal wasn’t to hurt her but to observe.

She attacked in return but none of her blow hit home.

Two minutes in the sparring and Marinette was on her back, Robin having softly flipped her.

“Again.”

They sparred a few times, each time Marinette lasted a bit longer, but she never lasted more than five minutes.

She was breathing heavily while he barely broke a sweat.

“I’ll be honest with you, it’s a miracle you’re still alive.”

He winced. He hasn’t shown her this side of him yet.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” she scoffed.

Good, she could take it. He was afraid that she would be offended.

He sat next to her as she stayed on the floor, like a starfish.

“We’ll have to start from scratch. I’ll teach you some basic moves but there is only so much I can teach you in less than a week. You really need to take lessons when you get back to Paris, no matter how full your schedule already is.”

Marinette looked at him, giving him a sad smile.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll do it.”

“But you’re not hopeless. You adapt fast.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, every time we sparred, you would last longer.”

The Eurasian girl laughed.

“I didn’t last more than five minutes!”

“No, but in the first spar, you lasted only two minutes. So it’s progress. It shows that you adapt easily. You’re also aware of your surroundings and know how to use it. If you take this seriously, you’ll progress fast.”

He watched as she was still breathing heavily.

“Come on, give me your phone.”

She did as he asked and he took his own phone out too. He unlocked her phone easily.

“And for the love of God, Marinette, put a password on your phone.”

She smiled sheepishly.

He entered his contact information and send a message to himself from her phone and then saved her contact. He gave her her phone back.

“Here, I entered my number. I’ll send you a training program. You need to build up your strength and your stamina. You can’t afford to be out of breath like that.”

He hoped she wasn’t offended. He only did this because he cared and he didn’t want her to get killed fighting Akumas because she wasn’t strong enough.

The way she smiled at him showed him that she knew that.

“Thank you.” she breathed.

Marinette was like an open book, but Robin knew he wasn’t. He didn’t know how to feel that she could read him so easily. Was he already lowering his guard around her?

He sighed. He knew that the answer was yes. He already was lowering his guard. He did it unconsciously because he wanted things to work with his soulmate.

He didn’t want to be the man his mother wanted him to be. Not anymore.

“We’ll start some training tomorrow. In the meantime, I believe I promised you to show you some of my drawings.”

Marinette beamed as he took a few pieces of paper and she straightened, sitting next to him as he showed her drawings of Titus, Alfred the cat and the batcow.

He smiled as she cooed at them.

When she woke up the next day, Marinette cursed Robin. She was sore at some places that she didn’t know had muscles. She had a headache, but that was probably because she only got two hours of sleep, she and Robin had stayed later than usual, losing themselves in their conversations unaware of the time passing.

Marinette heard a noise next to her.

“Marinette, wake up! Breakfast is in twenty minutes.”

The designer cursed once more in her head. It was the first time since the beginning of the trip that Alya woke up before her. The dark-haired girl panicked for a few seconds, already imagining the reporter seeing her green eye. She could already picture her asking questions about her soulmate, who they were and when it happened. She could already see herself screw up and admitting that Robin was her soulmate and it would be on the Ladyblog and it would spread worldwide and Robin would hate her!

She wanted to scream until her mind cleared. Why was she panicking? Hiding her eye was, actually, really simple.

Marinette got up, rubbing her eyes and feigning a yawn as she made her way to the bathroom.

Nailed it, she thought as she closed the door behind her.

Tag list:

@bigpicklebananatree @animegirlweeb @crazylittlemunchkin @northernbluetongue @cutechip @justafanwarrior @iloontjeboontje @resignedcatservant @maribat-is-lifeblood @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo @mikantsume @dast218 @amayakans @zestyzealot @lunarwolfspn @corabeth11

#maribat #daminette #maridami #miraculous x dc #ml x dc #damian x marinette

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #443

“it’s not a life sentence, but a death dream for you”

When was the last time you were in the hospital? Me personally, uhhh sometime in 2017? Why were you there? I had a cyst removal surgery. Do you like Cheez-Its or Cheese Nips better? Cheez-Its. Have you worn headphones at all today? Yeah, I pretty much always do because YouTube is always open and on a video. When was the last time you had blood drawn? A few months ago or something? I'll be getting some drawn shortly though for genetic testing; due to my mom having some dysfunctional cancer prevention gene, all her children are getting tests to see if we inherited it. The last time you got blood drawn, what was the reason? I want to say I was tested for anemia most recently. What color eyes does/did your father have? Brown. What do you daydream most about? Things I wish I didn't daydream about. What is your relation to the last child you spoke to? They're my niece and nephew. Do you believe the Holocaust happened? No fucking shit? Do you prefer zebra stripes, tiger stripes, or leopard spots? Tiger stripes, ig. When did you last see a dog? At my nephew's b-day party a couple weeks ago. Nicole brought her dog Zeke over. Have you ever been in the mountains when the moon and stars were up? No, but omg I wish!!!!!!!!!! Do you know anyone from Canada? Yep. Has a cat ever licked you? Yeah. Roman especially loves to give kisses. Where would you most like to go in your state, etc. that you haven’t been? The Wizard of Oz park, probs. Are you scared to look at your own organs on x-ray or ultrasound? No, that shit's rad. o: Have you ever walked on a frozen lake/river? No, that sketches me out. I'd be afraid of the ice breaking and me falling in. Have you ever seen a volcano? No. Have you ever met an Alaskan? Met in-person, no. But I do have an online friend who's from Alaska. Or may still live there? Idk. Have you ever mowed the lawn (even a little bit)? No. Have any unpleasant public transit stories to tell? Nah. Do you know any German words? Seeing as I took four semesters of the language in high school, I know a good deal. However, my skill has definitely atrophied with time and lack of application. Do you have a passport? No. Are your teeth straight? I mean, mostly. I had braces for too long, but I didn't wear my retainer, so they've moved back some. Would you mind dating someone significantly shorter than you? Yeah, sure. I've never understood why height is an issue for some people. Can you quote the movie Mean Girls? No. I personally never got the craze. Have you ever swam in the Atlantic Ocean? I have. The Pacific? No. Can you make yourself cry? No. Have you ever held a starfish? Not a live one. What would you do if you found out your ex was pregnant/fathered a child? Faint or vomit. Wail. All three. Are you very close to your siblings? No. :/ Can you do CPR? No. Favorite sport to watch in the summer Olympics? I don't care. Ever flushed a fish? Yes. Ever been paid for sex or a sexual favor? No. I wouldn't agree to that. Last friend you talked to online? Sara. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity? No. What is the best ice cream flavor? Vanilla. You have so many topping options. What’s your favorite thing to do outside? Photograph nature, especially wild animals. What would you spend $1,000 on? A big, really pro tattoo. What was the best (non-romantic) night you’ve had? Hm. I don't know. Who did you last lay in a bed/couch/recliner with? Mom and I sat together on the couch some time ago. Do you keep a planner? No. What are you craving right now? I've got a seriously random craving for shell pasta with a nice, meaty tomato sauce. Do you want kids anytime soon? DEFINITELY not soon, but also never. Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? No. Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. What’s the best feeling in the world? Knowing you're in love and really feeling it. What’s something you really want right now, be honest. There's a lot of things. Who in your family do you act like the most? I don't know, really. Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you? My mom, 100%. Do you believe that your first true love can be your only love in life? Of course not. Have you ever kissed under water? Yes. Is there that one guy that you’ll always have feelings for no matter what? Suuuure is. Wish it wasn't like that, but I don't see it ever changing, to be real... Are you 100% over the last person you kissed? 100%? No, I can't say I am entirely. Have your parents ever caught you kissing a guy? "Caught me?" How old is this question meant for? Yes, they've seen me kiss a guy before. If you mean like, seriously kiss-kissing, no. Which one of your exes hates you the most? Probably Jason. Are you named after anyone? No. Well, my middle name has been passed down, but "Brittany" wasn't from anybody else in specific. What reminds you the most of your last relationship? The song "The Only Exception" by Paramore. Have you ever rejected someone but they still wouldn’t give up on you? In elementary school, yes. When growing up, did your family always eat at the dinner table together? Usually, yes, at least when growing up. Sometimes we'd use little tables to eat in the living room though while watching TV. What is the greatest source of happiness in your life? My mom, best friend, and pets. What was the last charity/cause you donated to? I'm unsure, actually. Who was the last person you got a handwritten letter from? Sara! :') Did your parents read bedtime stories to you when you were little? Mom did. Have any of your worst fears ever come true? Yes. The greatest fear I've ever had was losing Jason, and that happened. Is anyone in your family divorced? My parents, for one. My older half-sister has also be divorced because her ex is an absolute piece of manipulative horse shit. Has anyone in your family gotten pregnant as a teenager? I think my mom? No, maybe not... Idk. I ain't doing the math. What’s your greatest talent? If you want a serious answer and not something self-depracating, I suppose writing. Would you ever want to get a master’s degree? It'd be cool, but I've never *actually* wanted to pursue that. Have you ever worn revealing clothing in order to get attention? No. Have you ever been falsely accused of being racist? I've never been accused of being racist, because I'm not. To you, is sex just about physical pleasure, or do you see it as an expression of love and commitment? Absolutely the latter. I could never engage in sex without deep emotional commitment. How many times have you been drunk in the past 6 months? Zero. What’s your favorite French food? I have no idea. What’s the most elaborate recipe you know how to cook? Nothing. Which rooms of your house have doors that lead outside? The living room and kitchen. Best purchase you ever made? My snake. :') Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? I haven't seen him a long time, but boy did I have a thing for James Hetfield in high school. There are defs others, but no one else immediately comes to mind. Have you ever been caught sneaking out? No, because I've never tried to. How many Facebooks have you had? Just the one I still use. Have you ever been punched in the face? No. When was the last time you talked to the first person you kissed? The beginning of February, 2017. What is the latest you have ever slept in? Past 5. Do you have to watch yourself in the mirror while you brush your teeth? No. Do you text when you drive? Fuck no. You couldn't pay me to. What movie do you really want to see that’s out? I don't even know what movies are out right now. Did America really put a man on the moon? Eventually, yes. Call me crazy, but I do believe the supposed first one was faked, though, to "beat" Russia in the space race. Do some research and it's pretty shocking. Would you like to date someone a lot purer than you? Idc. Do you turn your phone off at night when you go to sleep? No, but I turn the brightness down for if I wake up in the middle of the night and want to check the time. Have you slept in a bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you didn’t say it back? Yes. Has anyone ever played a prank on you? What happened? I don't believe so. Do you like tattoos and piercings? Helllll yes. :') What are you really into? Animals, art, some weird Korean guy on the Internet... Do your parents like your best friends? Yes. Have you ever taken a nap with a member of the opposite sex? Yeah. Do you have weak upper body strength? Yes. What color was the last cup you drank from? It's just clear glass. How old is your oldest sibling? I actually don't know her exact age. 30-something. What was the last thing you ate that had nuts in it? A Nature Valley cashew bar I had earlier today. How many pieces did the last puzzle you completed have? I have no idea. Who did you last shake hands with? uhhhhhhhh Has anybody asked you out on a date recently? Nah. When was the last time somebody asked you to be their girlfriend? When Girt asked me out a few years ago. Name something you’re picky about: Food. Who did you last ask for help? My mom. Do you like corn? Yeah. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now, would you accept? Right now I honestly probably would, believe it or not. Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? My mum. Have you ever made out for more than a half hour straight? Yeah. How do you earn money? The only occasions where I ever and very rarely earn money is if someone (non-family, of course) pays me to take pictures for them. Where were you raised? All you need to know is a crappy town in eastern NC. Are your ears gauged? No, but I want the first holes in my earlobes to be, but only with very small gauges. I just can't figure out how to do it myself, at least with the gauges I have. I think I'm missing something. Explain what triggered your last kiss? We were saying goodbye. Could you go a month without talking to your best friend? I mean I could, but it'd seriously fucking suck. Have you ever made out in a park? No, because I don't do that in public. What are you listening to? "Paint You With My Love" by Marilyn Manson. I wasn't big on the album when it came out, but this is one of the songs that's aight to me. Last thing you said out loud? I gave Venus a little wave and said "hey babe" or something like that like I do sometimes when she's slithering around and looks out towards me. Are you sad? Always at least a little bit. I have been kinda down this evening. Where is your dad? I would hope at home. He's probably watching TV, or maybe in bed.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''paint me with your love'' by marilyn manson

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emotionally-imbruised · 5 years

Text

A Tail of Their Own

In which Y/N is a mermaid and Harry doesn’t know what to do.

Word count: 9.2k

Keep going. Don’t look back, just keep going.

Despite how many times Y/N repeated that same phrase in her mind over and over again, she still had to fight the urge to look behind her. Were they close? Did she lose them? No, there’s no way they would have given up on pursuing her so quickly, and that thought alone made her swim even faster.

There were two of them that much Y/N knew. She had seen them both, a merman and merwoman lurking about nearby whenever she left her reef to go meet with the royals, but never really thought anything of it. Never thought it would lead to this.

Open water was never the best form of protection, but Y/N knew that if she kept pushing herself, she might be able to get away. She was tired though, swimming nonstop was draining, and it was getting to the point where the young mermaid was unsure of how much longer she could keep going — but she continued to push herself.

As if Poseidon himself had heard her thoughts, a large underwater grotto appeared in the distance, making Y/N swim towards it faster than she’d ever swam before. She didn’t realize just how close to the land she was getting at that point, but nonetheless, the cave provided temporary solace, and that was one thing she craved.

Once inside, Y/N almost let herself collapse in exhaustion. While gripping onto the rough rock walls of the cavern to prevent herself from sinking down to the ocean’s floor, she quickly let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding before continuing on. She had to keep moving.

She dipped through various nooks and crannies to get deeper into the cave. However, the further she went, the less she could see. Her surroundings were becoming much darker with each passing second, and Y/N knew she’d have to stop. With a large gulp, she froze at the entrance of what resembled a black hole of some sort; deciding it’d be best to stay where she was rather than to keep going and possibly come face to face with a sea creature that could be residing in the same hiding place.

Just as Y/N was considering her next move, voices started echoing through the grotto.

“Do you think she went in there?” A male voice asked, and caused Y/N’s heart to plummet into the pit of her stomach. They caught up to her.

“Of course I think she went in there, where else would she go?” The other mermaid snapped at her partner as panic took over Y/N entirely. The two of them began calling out her name, taunting her, stating how things would have been easier for all of them if she hadn’t run (swam) away from the royals. But what other choice did Y/N have? There wasn’t one, because if there were, she wouldn’t have been in such a predicament.

Y/N looked around for where she could go and frowned at the limited options she had. Her first other option was to go into the black hole, which she ultimately decided against because it would more than likely just make everything worse. The second option was to go back the way she came. Back through the cave, and towards the two that were there searching for her. It was dangerous, yes, but maybe there were other ways in the cavern for her to go around and avoid them altogether. It was a risk she knew she had to take, so with another gulp, she started swimming towards them.

The way the other two wouldn’t stop bickering with one another actually gave Y/N a bit of an advantage. She’d listen to their voices as an attempt to pinpoint how far away they were, and it actually was working right up until she came to a dead-end. Right after taking a sharp left when she felt the others were too close for comfort, Y/N found herself in a small den-like area with no other place to go. The large rocks surrounding her were slick and covered with kelp, which hid any different possible escape route she could take and left her stuck. She bit down on her bottom lip nervously and went to turn back around, but had to halt her movements when one of the other mermaids spoke up again.

“Hey fish face, I think she went this way,” the female said from what sounded to be just on the other side of the rock wall Y/N was instinctively pressing her back against.

“What makes you think that?” The merman asked, seemingly just as close.

Although Y/N wasn’t exactly a fan of the way the kelp felt slippery and slimy against her skin, it did provide her with a bit of camouflage and kept her out of sight. She stayed still and waited for any indication that the other two had gone a different way, but much to her dismay, the two swam right into her view, and she was finally able to get a good look at them.

The first thing that caught Y/N’s eyes when she first saw them before fleeing her home was the deep red colour of their tails. She had only ever seen a handful of mermaid’s with a similar colour of tail, so naturally, it caught her attention. But now that she was really studying them, she picked up on other physical similarities the other two shared. Both had jet black hair, pale skin, deep brown eyes, and many other features that were alike. The two had to be related in some way, Y/N decided.

“Look at this,” the other mermaid spoke up again as she swam a little further, coming to a stop and reaching down to pick up a shiny object Y/N hadn’t noticed to be there before. “Think it’s hers?”

The mermaid held up a silver hairpin with a seashell on the end of it, which caused Y/N’s eyes to widen and her hand to immediately reach up to touch the now single hairpin that still remained in her hair. She let her fingers trace over the small metal starfish at the end of the pin before sighing in defeat, accepting the fact that she had just lost part of the unique hairpin set her mother gave her when she was a little girl.

Part of her wanted to just push away from the wall so she could snatch the item back and continue on her way, but that was too dangerous, and Y/N knew better. So instead, she watched the two mermaids examine her pin before deciding to resume their search further into the cave.

Y/N remained unmoving from her spot for a few moments until she felt it was safe enough to continue on. Once she was brave enough to go, the mermaid made her way out of the grotto entirely and tried to think of a plan. Surely she didn’t have much time to find another place to hide because soon enough, the other mermaids would give up their hunt in the cave and swim back out as well.

Unsure of where she could possibly go, Y/N swam along the outer part of the grotto, muttering a quick sorry as she went through a bloom of jellyfish and accidentally startled an old sea turtle from its slumber. Once she was a reasonable distance away from the cave, Y/N finally noticed that she was in much shallower water. She had paid no attention to how close the shore was getting during her escape and cursed herself for being so careless because now her options were even more limited.

Luckily enough, there wasn’t any sign of the other mermaids just yet. Maybe she actually managed to lose them, but regardless, Y/N knew she had to keep going.

The water became much warmer as Y/N got closer to land and provided her a comforting feeling, which eventually allowed her to relax.

Y/N knew these waters quite well, and if she was correct, Y/N was about 98% sure she was just off the coast of California. However, there was no way to actually tell so with one final glance around to see if she was still being followed or not, Y/N decided to swim to the surface to confirm her theory.

One thing Y/N knew very well about the ocean, was how deceiving it could be. She knew more about the earth’s bodies of water than any human did, having explored them herself extensively during her short 23-years of life -- and even then, there were still parts she’d never seen. Areas she’d never consider going to because there was no way of knowing what it’s deepest depths held, and frankly, sometimes it was best to be left that way.

Y/N was also aware of how peaceful the ocean can seem from the surface above, for the surface hides everything that is below it. However, that illusion works both ways, and soon enough Y/N found herself caught up in a severe storm she didn’t even know was happening once she broke through the intense waves.

Strong winds and heavy rainfall made it almost impossible for Y/N to make any sense of where she was. Massive tidal waves formed, then crashed in the distance and created a wicked tide that involuntarily pushed her closer and closer to shore. In the distance, the lights of the city bordering the coast could just barely be seen due to the poor weather conditions, which ultimately resulted in Y/N decided to just go back underwater until the storm passed.

Taking an unnecessarily long breath, Y/N dipped beneath the waves again and started swimming away from the surface entirely. However, after only making it a few feet, a panicked noise sounded from nearby and caused her to refrain from going any further. She wasn’t that deep in the water, so the undertow was still quite aggressive from the storm going on above and continued pushing her in the direction of the shore. But, Y/N still waited a minute to see if the noise would occur again, and unsurprisingly, it did.

The mermaid looked in the direction the sound had come from and saw a fully grown elephant seal swimming around in distress near the surface. Upon further observation, Y/N noticed that above the seal was a large torn up fishing net, and tangled in it was a seal pup. The entire scene was hard for Y/N to look at, and she knew she had to help in one way or another.

Cautiously, Y/N swam towards the adult seal and waited for it to notice her. Once it did, the creature became visibly calmer and looked back up at its tangled pup; almost as though it silently pleading for assistance. With a simple nod, Y/N then swam back up to the surface and got to work.

It was challenging for her to get a good hold of the net for with each wave, everything was shifted. The pup would whine each time it was pushed further from its mother, which only broke Y/N’s heart even more as she watched it helplessly struggle against its restraints. Without giving much thought to what she was doing, Y/N carefully wrapped her arm around the pup to bring it under the water entirely and close to her chest.

Parts of the net brushed against Y/N’s skin and tail as it slowly began surrounding her beneath the water, but she paid no attention to it as she focused on freeing the little seal all while trying to keep herself from getting swept away in the tide. Eventually, she was able to rip a large enough hole in the netting so that the pup could free itself and swim away to be reunited with its mother.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two seals greet each other excitedly and look back towards her as if to say thanks, before swimming away and disappearing into the depths of the Pacific. Just as she was about to do the same, Y/N moved no more than an inch only to find that she was now completely encased in the fishnet. There was no longer an open spot in the netting below that would allow her to swim away, which left her panicking slightly.

The way the net continued moving in the harsh waves, made it even more difficult for Y/N to find a way out; and she could also feel the material tangling around her even more whenever she struggled against it. Without any other options, Y/N let herself float to the surface in hopes the net would untangle itself in the process. However, that didn’t happen at all.

Once she breached the surface again, Y/N realized she was now extremely close to land. Even in the dark, she was able to make out a massive pier in the distance and the large rocks below that the waves continued crashing into. The subtle panic Y/N had already been feeling reached an all-time high as the shore kept getting closer, and she still was unable to remove herself from the fishing net.

The waves seemed to be getting more extensive and aggressive. Each time they crashed over Y/N and unwantedly moved her around, she felt the chances of her getting out of her predicament grow slim. She was above water one second, and beneath it the next; spiraling out of control and with no way out.

Despite how helpless she felt, Y/N still fought to free herself, and after a few more moments of struggling, she was finally able to rip another hole in the net. A sigh of relief left her mouth as she tore the hole more so that she could squirm away from the tangled mess just like the seal had, and she was almost able to do just that... until her fin got caught again at the very last second.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She groaned to herself as she started flipping her tail around in attempts to get the net off all over again; feeling more than fed up with everything at that moment. Y/N was pretty well on the shore at that point. If she swam down just a little bit, she’d be able to touch the ocean floor seeing as it really wasn’t that deep; which she decided to use to her advantage.

Y/N let the tide take her a little closer to shore all while keeping her eye on a large rock that was fast approaching. Once she was close enough, she reached out to grab ahold of the stone to keep herself still against the current as she removed the last part of fishnet, but unfortunately, missed it completely. There wasn’t even time for Y/N to curse herself for missing the rock for the next thing she knew, she was coming face to face with another one, fast. She couldn’t even react to the oncoming foundation, let alone look for a spot she could possibly grab ahold of for the next thing Y/N knew, she was crashing into it.

Pain rippled through her entire body as she came in contact with the sturdy piece of earth, causing her to tumble around uncontrollably with no hopes of stopping... that was until her head came in contact with something hard, and everything went black.

Y/N thought she heard voices, which is originally what made her eventually come to her senses. However, she had no desire to open her eyes just yet.

The sound of seagulls annoyingly squawking at one another as they flew overhead made Y/N’s head throb even more as she rolled onto her side and let out a loud groan. She hid her face into the crook of her forearm to block out the beating sun, shifting again uncomfortably as she felt the damp sand sticking to her skin.

She was no longer in the ocean but was near it. The tide was much calmer compared to how it was the night before and provided some temporary relief as it brushed against the tip of her tail before fading back into the waves.

The fact that Y/N’s tail was still visible and hadn’t been replaced with legs yet like it usually would whenever she was out of the water made her think that maybe she hadn’t been on land for too long. Regardless, she couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it anyways as she remained unmoving from her spot.

A nagging thought in the back of her mind told her over and over again that she should move before she was seen by a human, however, she ignored it. Her escape route was no more than ten feet away from where she laid, and if a human did find her, she’d be able to escape back to the water with ease.

A few moments passed before Y/N heard the voices that originally woke her up again, and opened her eyes in red alert.

“Do you think she’s dead?” A male voice asked, followed by the sounds of various grunts as two sets of footsteps approached where Y/N was laying.

“Mitch!” A female voice hissed aggravatedly. “You’re a downright knob sometimes, you know that?”

“Well, she isn’t moving!” The man defended.

“Well, maybe she needs help!!”

Help. Did Y/N need help? She couldn’t decide as she listened to the two people grow closer before nervousness took over her, and she finally decided to get the heck out of there.

Slowly, she sat up and got a good look at where she was. The pier she almost crashed into the night before was way off to the right, proving that somehow she’d drifted to her current spot after losing consciousness. It was a tranquil area of the beach, didn’t seem to have any public access but yet, here were two people climbing over the large rocks towards her anyways.

The pair must’ve seen her from the nearby trails. There was no one else walking the paths as Y/N looked over at them, but she was able to spot a few different places where someone just walking by could easily see an unconscious mermaid lying in the sand… Oh shit.

Y/N started to panic then, cursing herself for not listening to her nagging thoughts and just going back into the water. What if they saw her tail? Humans were not supposed to know about mermaids. It was that simple. But… here she was, tail and all, with two of them way too close for comfort.

Just get in the water.

It was the only solution. Y/N knew that… and she was about to start scooting back towards the ocean to do so until something caught her eye and caused her to freeze.

A ways off the coast was two people treading in deep water and looking directly at her. If Y/N hadn’t known better, she would have assumed it was just two humans being risk-takers and going further out into the water than they were supposed to. However, that wasn’t the case, and Y/N was well aware that she now facing the two mermaids that had spent the entire night chasing her.

She couldn’t go back in the water, she just couldn’t. But could she expose what she was to these two humans who were no more than a minute from seeing a creature they’ve only heard from in fictional stories? It was a stressful call to make, but with a deep resentful sigh, Y/N stayed put.

The voices of the humans grew much louder as they got closer to where Y/N was sat. They were still bickering, but both became silent once they climbed over the last bit of rocks and saw everything.

Y/N didn’t even want to look at them. She already felt sick to her stomach just thinking about what could possibly be going through their minds right now seeing a full ass mermaid on display. But, they didn’t leave. Almost as if they weren’t disgusted or afraid.

“Oh my god,” the woman said and slowly reached down to grab ahold of the man's arm to steady herself as she stumbled to a stop. “Am I- is this real?”

Her words caught Y/N off guard, and she finally decided to look towards the couple. They both stared at her in awe, but also made no move to run away in fear and warn the other humans. So, Y/N took that time to study them a little.

The woman had longish brown hair that was tied back into a ponytail to keep away from her face. She wore a simple white T-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, and wouldn’t stop smacking the man's arm while pointing towards Y/N.

“Do you see this?”

The man was entirely still. He too was wearing an effortless outfit that was paired with a black baseball cap and some dark sunglasses. His expression was unreadable as he reached up to rub his thumb and pointer finger over his scruffy moustache in thought, before turning to walk away.

“Not my problem,” he muttered as the girl looked at him in utter disbelief.

“Mitch, we can't just leave her here. We gotta tell someone.” The woman said, and Y/N’s anxiousness returned.

“No, no, no, please don’t,” Y/N pleaded as she started shaking her head. However, as she did that, the pain in her skull began to throb, and she had to still her movements as she waited for the soreness to subside.

The couple watched the mermaid hunch over in agony, observing the way she gripped onto her head in attempts to relieve whatever pain she was feeling. After a moment, Y/N stilled and let out a few exhausted breaths.

A wave of concern washed over the woman as she started climbing down the rocks and cautiously approached Y/N, despite the man telling her not to.

The sudden presence beside her caused Y/N to jump, but she didn’t move away from the woman. Despite being afraid of humans, she didn’t feel threatened by this particular one.

The woman took in Y/N’s current condition with an emphatic look. Various cuts and bruises were littering her skin, with a nasty looking gash on her rib cage just under the white seashell bra she wore, and the remnants of a torn-up fishing net wrapped around her tail. To put it nicely, she looked like she had gone through hell and back, and the woman thought that maybe she could use some help.

She crouched down slowly and locked eye contact with Y/N, visibly being able to see just how tense the mermaid was before taking a deep breath and finally speaking up again. “Are you hurt?”

Although slightly hesitant in doing so at first, Y/N nodded; not removing her hand from where she applied pressure to her temple to keep the discomforting ache at bay.

“What happened to you?”

“Got caught in the storm last night while I was too close to shore,” Y/N explained and gestured to all the seaweed and other debris that was scattered around her. “Looks like I wasn’t the only thing that got washed up.”

At this point, the man had joined them as well but continued looking at her with a blank expression. “So, you’re an actual mermaid?”

“Well, kind of,” Y/N explained, her face contorting in pain again as she nodded and the throbbing returned.

“Hit your head pretty hard, huh?” The woman asked with a slight frown, before widening her eyes at her statement. “Not to say that you’re crazy or delusional or anything of that sort. Just that you seem to be hurt and you keep clutching your head and...”

The woman’s sudden worry of being offensive made Y/N chuckle and she soon decided that she liked these humans. “It’s alright, I knew what you meant. But yes. Hit it hard enough to knock myself out and end up on land.”

The two of them nodded slowly in understanding, very clearly still trying to wrap their heads around the entire situation, but still actually listening to what Y/N tells them.

“So, uh,” the man started and shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. “Do you need help getting back to the water? I don’t really know what to do in this situation.”

“I-.” Y/N cut herself off as she flickered her gaze to the two mermaids in the distance and swallowed thickly. “I was actually thinking of staying on land for a bit. You know, uh, until I feel better.”

“Can you be on land? Is that a thing?” The woman asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, I can function just fine on land,” Y/N explained. “There’s a reason why you humans don’t know we exist. We’re very good at blending in.”

“Ok, and do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No, I just need to get away from here I think,” she continued before glancing back to the man and woman. “I think sleep will do me best.”

“Alright, you can come with us then,” the woman stated as she stood up straight and ignored the glare the man was giving her. “Once we figure out this whole tail situation, that is.”

“Sarah.” The man snapped quietly and looked at her disbelieving as if Y/N wasn’t there. “Where exactly do you plan on taking her?”

“Harry’s,” she stated with a shrug, earning a scoff from the man as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Not like we can bring her to London with us.”

“I know that, but we can’t just leave her there.”

“Why not? I don’t think Harry will mind.”

Y/N watched the two converse, unsure of who or what they were talking about but just brushed it off and let them continue. After a few moments went by, she decided to clear her throat and remind them of her presence.

The two snapped their gazes to her and waited for her to say something. “Would uh, would either of you have a towel by chance?”

The girl, Sarah, nodded before reaching into the large bag she was holding and pulling out a vibrantly coloured beach towel. She handed it to Y/N before turning back to Mitch and continuing their discussion.

While they weren’t looking, Y/N started drying her tail off. Her scales were only damp by this point, so it took her way less time to actually rid her body of any water resting on it. Once she was done, Y/N wrapped the towel around her lower body and waited.

It had been a while since she’d done this, but Y/N recognized the familiar tingling sensation she only felt whenever her tail was about to turn into a set of human legs. The feeling of her scales fading away only to be replaced with skin, muscle, and bone was always strange to her. She never watched the actual transition for it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to see, hence the towel covering her entire lower half, but soon enough the whole thing was over, and she was left staring at a pair of feet where her tail fin once resided.

Neither Sarah or Mitch had noticed what had just gone on as they continued disagreeing on where they’d take the mermaid, but that soon changed when Y/N stood up from the ground and they both fell silent again. Slightly more shocked than before.

“Uh when we turn into our human form, we don’t have any clothes,” Y/N told them and tightened the towel around her waist so nothing would show. “It’s a bit of a downfall, I guess.”

“What is happening right now?” Mitch whispered as he leaned into Sarah a little bit, while she just shook her head.

“That’s,” she started, but paused as if to gather her thoughts before continuing. “I don’t even know.”

“Would either of you have some extra clothes by chance?” Y/N asked, slightly embarrassed.

“You can have these,” Sarah responded and pulled out another pair of shorts and a T-shirt from her bag, ripping off the tags before tossing them to Y/N.

“Thank you.”

Sarah and Mitch turned their backs to Y/N so she could have a bit of privacy as she put the clothes on. Once she was done getting dressed, she removed her shell bra and hid it behind a rock; hoping that maybe she could find it there later on need be. She then unwrapped the towel and folded it up, holding it tight against her chest before turning back to face the ocean.

The two other mermaids hadn’t moved from their spot and continued staring at her. Only the top part of their heads remained above the water, which left Y/N feeling very uncomfortable as their gazes burned into her. However, she didn’t waver. She stared right back at them and dared them to do something. Neither of them did, nor did they break eye contact until a voice spoke up from behind Y/N.

“Ready to go?” Sarah asked with a warm smile as Y/N turned to look at her.

“Yeah, let's get out of here.”

The three of them started heading towards the trails again and make way to a nearby parking lot. Y/N had no idea where they were taking her, but it seemed safer than being in the ocean with those other mermaids lurking off the coast. There’s no way Y/N would have been able to avoid them in her current state, so this was ultimately the best option, which made her less anxious. However, she still had a terrible feeling of it all when she glanced back to the water just in time to see two crimson red tails disappear beneath the waves.

It was a short drive through Los Angeles from the beach to the house Mitch and Sarah were soon pulling into the driveway of, but seemed much longer to Y/N.

With it being quite some time since she had last spent more than an hour or two on land, and in more than one place as well, Y/N was quite intrigued. She watched out the car window with an amused expression as she observed the palm trees, buildings, and people they drove past; taking it all in and smiling when she’d see something completely out of the ordinary.

Part of her still worried that these two may try taking her to a hospital, which Y/N knew would only end badly, but those thoughts went away when they turned down another road and started driving through a lovely community. The houses were large and very fancy looking, nothing like she’d seen way back when she actually did live on land, which left her awestruck.

The house the three of them came to a stop at was no exception either. It was just as large as the others, but it wasn’t as flashy. There was much more of a simplistic vibe to it but was still absolutely stunning.

Mitch and Sarah lead her into this house, unlocking it with a key they had all while continuing their conversation about whether they should actually be doing this or not. Y/N however, was too amazed to be bothered by anything they were saying.

The inside of the house was even more stunning than the outside. White marble flooring went as far as she could see, only disappearing at the doorway to another room and at the edge of the large staircase that leads to the second floor. Beyond the foyer, she could see what looked to be a kitchen at the other end of the hallway. Dark hardwood flooring that matched the colour of the stairs met the marble and covered what she could see from the room. Some giant windows let the sunshine through brightly. That alone paired with the various pieces of artwork and photos that covered the walls gave off a warm and welcoming feeling, which Y/N liked a lot.

Mitch and Sarah stepped further into the home and walked towards the kitchen. Y/N however, stayed put. She brushed her bare feet against the mat she was standing on, not wanting to trail any sand through the house before finally stepping onto the cold marble.

The pictures on the walls are what caught her attention first. They displayed different things and places, some being very random, but still beautiful nonetheless. She then migrated towards the staircase, looking up to the next floor as she went. What could possibly be up there sparked Y/N’s curiosity, but she knew she was in no place to explore some stranger's home.

“You can go up there,” Sarah’s voice snapped her out of her trance. “There are a few bedrooms up there, you can choose one to rest in if you’d like.”

“Oh, that’d be great. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sarah smiled before handing Y/N a large bandage. “This is for the cut on your ribs, might want to cover it up before it gets infected or something.”

Y/N nodded as she took the bandage from her. “Thank you again. For everything.”

“You’re quite welcome,” she told her nicely. “Now why don’t you go get some sleep, yeah? You must be exhausted from the night you had. Mitch and I may not be here when you wake up, we have to go, but our friend who lives here should be back soon. He’s very kind. I’m going to try to explain everything to him, but he’s not someone you should be afraid of by any means.”

“Ok,” Y/N responded, trusting everything she’d just been told. “I’ll head up there now then. It was nice meeting you, Sarah. I’m Y/N, by the way, and please do thank Mitch for me as well.”

“I will. Good luck with everything, Y/N.”

The two then parted ways as Y/N went upstairs and Sarah returned to the kitchen. Once she was on the second floor, Y/N opened the first door on her right and crashed onto the large bed that resided in the room; not bothering to take a look at anything in it as she made her way to the bed.

The throbbing hadn’t gone away. There was still a dull ache in the back of her head from where she hit it before being washed up on shore, and it didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. She tried to ignore it though, and focus on the comfort she was feeling by resting in the large bed she took over rather than think about the pain.

Still refusing to open her eyes, Y/N rolled onto her side and curled up into the mountain of fluffy pillows in attempts to actually get some rest. The faint scent of cologne engulfed her in a somewhat comforting way when it mixed with the familiar smell of saltwater that still remained in her hair, and with it, she was soon able to fall asleep... not hearing the conversation that ensued downstairs.

“He’s going to lose his shit once he gets home, Sarah,” Mitch started as soon as his girlfriend stepped back into the kitchen of his best friend's home. “We should have just left her, or called the cops, or something.”

“If we called anyone it would have created a bigger mess than this already is,” she argued. “Mermaids aren’t real, or so we thought. Could you imagine what would have happened if someone found her that didn’t want to help? Who knows where she could’ve ended up?”

“Again, that wouldn’t have been our problem.”

“We couldn’t just leave her, Mitch. There was a reason she didn’t go back into the water. I don’t know if you noticed too, but she kept looking at something off the coast and looked terrified whenever she did. I think she was trying to avoid something.”

Mitch sighed. “I did notice that I just couldn’t see what it was.”

“Exactly,” Sarah reasoned. “Things could have been a lot worse for her if we didn’t help. And don’t worry about Harry, I’ll talk to him. I’ve already messaged him and leave him a note on the door as well. But for right now, she needs to recuperate, and we need to get to the airport. I think Harry will be just fine.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

Y/N wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when the sound of the front door to the house opened and closed, she figured maybe she should get up. Slowly, she let her eyes flutter open to the pitch-black room. There was a bit of light shining under the doorway from the hallway outside of the bedroom, and she could only assume it was the two kind people who had helped her and brought her here returning from wherever they’d gone off to.

Heavy footsteps could be heard coming up the same wooden staircase she climbed up just hours ago and towards the room she was in. Although she wasn’t scared per se, Y/N still held her breath and waited for the door to open and reveal who she hoped was Mitch and Sarah. However, those hopes were crushed when the door burst open and in walked a complete stranger.

He had short curly brown hair and some of the prettiest green eyes Y/N had ever seen. His outfit was rather simple, very casual, and similar to the clothes Y/N saw other people wearing during her short time on land, and it suited him very well.

The two of them just stared at each other for a moment as Y/N slowly sat up and leaned against the headboard. She was completely unsure of what to say, but luckily for her, the man beat her to it.

“Who are you, and why are you in my bed?”

Y/N didn’t know how to react. The way the man stared at her so intensely made her want to shrink away and never be seen again, but she didn’t. Instead, she straightened her posture and looked right back at him. “I was brought here.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” he replied and held up a piece of paper. “Found this on the front door when I got home after getting a very long, questionable text from Sarah.”

So this is the friend Sarah told her about the owner of the house. He was rather handsome in Y/N’s opinion, but so far he was not as kind as Sarah had made him out to be, and that made her nerves return. “I-I.”

“You’re a mermaid?’ He asked in disbelief, becoming slightly more aggravated as he watched Y/N shake her head in agreement. “What the hell were those two on when they found you?”

Y/N could tell he was not happy, which she understood why, but she also really did not like the way he was speaking to her and decided to address that. “I… I don’t like your tone.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, I don’t like your tone,” she replied firmly. “Sarah said you were nice, but I’m finding that hard to believe.”

Was this girl, ok? Sarah had told Harry in the message she sent that the girl in front of him had hit her head. Was that why she thought she was a mermaid? Also, why did they think to bring her here of all places? Clearly, she didn’t recognize him or know who he was, but there’s still no way that she’s a mermaid.

Harry couldn’t quite wrap his head around the whole situation, but regardless, he could see her point in the way he wasn't exactly calm in addressing the issue at hand. So, with a deep breath, he calmed any odd feelings and worries he had.

“I’m sorry. I could have handled that better.”

“It’s alright, I’m sure you weren’t expecting a stranger to be asleep in your bed once you got home. I know I wouldn’t.” Y/N explained and instantly felt better when a smile started tugging at the man’s lips.

“Not exactly a regular occurrence, no,” Harry chuckled and took a good look at the girl. Her hair was matted, indicating that it had been wet at one point and furrowed his eyebrows at the marks and cuts that covered her skin. It was evident that she had been through something traumatic, but Harry decided he shouldn’t dig for any information and decided maybe if he addressed everything calmly, he could eventually get her out of his home and get her the medical attention she might need. “Sarah had said you were hurt, do you need to see a doctor?”

“No, I think I’ll be fine,” Y/N responded and slowly climbed out of bed. She walked towards the man and let out a surprised gasp at how tall he was. Y/N had always considered herself to be an average height whenever she walked around on land with humans, but he made her feel much shorter. She then made eye contact with him again and quickly shook her head, free those thoughts. “Sleeping helped a lot, but uh, if you didn’t mind… I could really use a shower.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the girl's words. If she really was a mermaid, could she even take a shower? How did any of this work? But then again, Harry knew mermaids didn’t exist, but he decided to play along with the story he’d been told about the girl standing in front of him.

“You’re sure nothing will happen?” His question had a serious tone to it, and Y/N wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it. “When you’re in the shower, that is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Harry started with a sign. “Well. You’re a mermaid, right?”

Y/N nodded.

“Don’t mermaids, I don’t know, don’t you… you know, turn back into a mermaid once you’re wet?”

“Oh! No. Well not in the sense that you’re probably thinking,” she explained, earning a skeptical look from the man standing in front of her. “I mean yes, technically mermaids will turn into their mermaid form when they’re in the water or are wet. However, we either have to be fully submerged in water, or if we’re on land and say it’s raining, we usually have about two minutes before anything would happen. I, on the other hand, have a bit more time than that because I’m not a proper mermaid.”

“Proper?” Harry asked, still processing everything else she said, but that specific part standing out. “There’s such a thing as a proper mermaid? And you’re not one of them?”

“It’s a long story,” Y/N mumbled in response. It was a complicated story too and was something she just didn’t want to get into quite yet, so, she did what she did best; avoided the situation entirely. “Anyways, um, would you mind showing me where the shower is, please? The dried saltwater is making my hair a bit grimy.”

He just stared at her. There still was a large part of him that didn’t believe any of this could actually be real. Maybe this girl was lost? Confused? Whatever it was, Harry was still unsure of why Mitch and Sarah would bring her here and make it all his problem.

Y/N watched as the man continued staring towards her blankly. Although he was looking right at her, he wasn’t making direct eye contact, which leads Y/N to believe that he must’ve been in deep thought. His gaze just wouldn’t move away from her though, and after a moment of silently shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she cleared her throat in attempts to gain his attention back.

“Oh, uh yeah, this way.”

Harry didn’t bother showing her the rest of the house just yet and opted on taking her to his en suite so he could be nearby if she needed anything. Once he showed her how to turn the water on and where everything was, he set one of the clean, large fluffy towels onto the porcelain vanity top and gave her, her privacy. Once he was back in the bedroom, he flopped onto his bed and groaned. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

The way the water shot from the shower once Y/N twisted the handle to the left, like she had been shown, caused her to jump slightly and gasped at the sight. She wasn’t expecting it to be so... aggressive, but nonetheless, she waited for a bit of steam to rise to indicate the water was warm enough for her to get into.

Once the entire bathroom itself was a bit warmer, and condensation started forming on the large mirror above the vanity, Y/N took off the baggy T-shirt and shorts she had been given to wear and was about to finally get into the shower. However, something caught her eye.

On the wall near the shower was a black square. It had various knobs and dials, something Y/N had never seen before but was instantly intrigued by. To the top right of the contraption, there was a button that said ON/OFF to which Y/N decided she should most definitely press.

Another surprised yelp left the mermaid's mouth when the noise started blaring from the device, and she instantly moved to turn it down with the knob that was labeled Volume. As soon as the sounds were down to a comfortable level, Y/N let it sink in that it wasn’t just any noise that surprised her, it was music. And Y/N loved music.

She listened for a second before her eyes widened in surprise; she knew this song but wasn’t sure how. Maybe it was from floating near houseboats while they played that tune, or simply by being near the shore while she was observing people. Whatever it was, Y/N recognized the song, and it brought a great sense of comfort to her, which finally lead her to get into the damn shower.

Harry’s eyebrows raised in alert as soon as the music started blaring from his en-suite. He wasn’t expecting In My Place by Coldplay to just randomly start playing but assumed the girl had simply just found the stereo in there and decided to let her be.

He hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed and didn’t have any plans to. His phone dinged with a notification from where it had been lying next to him and with another dramatic groan, he rolled over to see what it was; eyes widening once he saw it was a message from Sarah.

Sarah

Don’t be mad. x.

Harry scoffed, of course, she’d be so nonchalant about all of this.

Harry

There’s a girl that thinks she’s a mermaid in my shower right now, Sarah.

Sarah

She is a mermaid! You can even ask Mitch, he was there too. And she needed help, H.

Harry stared at the phone screen for a few moments, just thinking of how he could possibly respond to that. He zoned everything out as he let this all really sink in and didn’t realize that the song playing from the washroom had changed, or that it had changed again.

He was utterly unaware of just how much time had passed until a loud gasp, followed by an even louder thump sounded from the en-suite. Harry instantly sat up and waited, waited to see if he had just imagined the noise or if it had actually happened. After another moment passed, he got his answer when a hushed and timid voice called out.

“H-help, please.”

There was no way of predicting what was on the other side of the washroom door, but when Harry scrambled off the bed and across the room to hesitantly push it open so he could step inside, he can wholeheartedly say he was not picturing the scene that unfolded once he did so.

The water from the shower was still running, and the music continued playing. Harry kept his eyes closed because he knew that with the large glass walls of his shower, he’d see something that he wasn’t meant to when it came to the girl that was in there. “What happened?”

“I stayed in the water for too long,” Y/N whimpered as she tried to sit herself up against the bottom of the shower wall without flinching in pain from her fall. “C-could use your help, please?”

Harry didn’t want to open his eyes, but when he did, his mouth dropped open. The girl wasn’t completely naked like he would have expected if it were under any other circumstances. Instead, her lengthy hair covered her exposed chest while the bottom half of her body now had a tail. Stunning shades of pink, purple, blue, and green all shimmered against the water that covered her scales, and Harry just simply could not look away. He’d never in a million years expect to find himself in this type of situation, but here he was, with a mermaid in his shower.

Y/N watched as he took in her appearance. For some reason, the way he looked at her made a blush burn at her cheeks, but also make her want to just disappear. She was so embarrassed and cursed herself for not paying attention to just how long she’d been in the shower.

The defeated sigh that left her mouth is what snapped Harry back to reality, and in a quick second, he was at the shower, swinging the door open and reaching in to turn the water off. He then let his gaze fall down to the way the mermaid clutched onto her right elbow and saw how red it was already turning, quickly assuming she must have whacked it when she fell over.

“Do you-,” Harry started to ask if she needed help getting out of the shower but stopped himself. Of course, she did. She was a mermaid.

Cautiously, Harry bent over to snake one arm around her waist and the other under her tail so that he could pick her up bridal style and lift her out of the shower. The girl’s scales were slick against his skin, and he feared he might drop her, but she soon wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and pressed her chest against his own to prevent that from happening.

Y/N instinctively nuzzled her face into the crook of the man’s neck, feeling more stupid and vulnerable than she had in a really long time, but as she inhaled the smell of his cologne, the same one she’d spent hours basking in as she slept, comforted her. Despite how embarrassed she still was. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Harry replied before gently setting her down on the raggy white bath mat outside of the shower. He could sense how she was hesitant in letting go of him, but she eventually did, and he was able to move away slightly. His clothes were soaked, but Harry didn’t care as he remained crouched down and really got a good look at the mermaid. He started at her face, noticing just how stunning her eyes were and not realizing how his eyes had a similar effect on her earlier. His gaze then trailed down her body, still thankful her hair was covering her chest and preventing this situation from becoming even more awkward, before finally landing on her tail again. “Wow, you really are a mermaid.”

“Told you I was,” Y/N grumbled as she leaned back against the cold glass shower, before instantly crossing her arms over her chest once she realized she still wasn’t wearing anything.

“Right,” Harry responded with a sigh. “So, what do we do now? Do you stay like that forever?”

“No,” Y/N chuckled. “I’ll have legs again soon, but would you mind passing me that towel first?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry answered before reaching over to grab the towel that still rested on the vanity. He didn’t say anything else as he handed the girl the item and sat back to watch as she unfolded it and placed it over her body before speaking to him again.

“See, the thing with being a mermaid is that we can control water,” Y/N started to explain. “Move it, manipulate it… we can do it all. However, like I said, I’m not a proper mermaid, so I’m not as powerful with the water as I am compared to a regular mermaid.”

“Regular mermaid,” Harry mumbled as he watched her wave her hand over her tail and witnessed the water droplets remove themselves from her scales. He shook his head in disbelief as the water gathered together in one large form right in front of him before looking down and realizing this was how she was drying herself.

Y/N watched the man with an amused expression as all the water was removed from her body, and the burning sensation of her transition returned. She still refused to look down as her tail turned back into her legs and focused on moving the ball of water she created instead. With another small wave of her hand, the water moved through the air and over to the massive bathtub that was in the corner; watching as it burst and crashed into the porcelain below and eventually went down the drain. Her gaze moved back to the man, who was busy looking between her and the bathtub in utter disbelief.

“You think that’s cool? You should see what an actual mermaid can do.”

“What? How?” Harry stammered and slowly stood back up, reaching his hand out to help the now human-looking girl up as well while her other hand kept the towel in place. “This is a lot to take in. And you’re not even a real mermaid?”

“I’m not, no,” Y/N confirmed. “My mother was human, I was born on land. But we can talk about that another day. Thank you again for helping me, um, I’m Y/N.”

Harry continued watching her with wide eyes but felt the tension leave his body as she reached out her hand and smiled at him softly. Slowly, he reached out to shake her hand before finally speaking up again.

“M’Harry. S’a pleasure to meet you Y/N, but I’m going to need you to fill me in on everything.”

Y/N nodded in understanding, before motioning towards the bedroom again. Harry went first and gathered her one of his t-shirts and a pair of track pants to wear before the two sat down on the edge of his bed and talked all night long.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles preferences #1dff #harry styles au #mermaid!y/n

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fanficwriter013 · 5 years

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The Tower: The Queen Of Asgard - 18

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2271

Warnings: injuries, smut (MF, oral and vaginal sex)

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man. When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood. While others expect Thor to make things more official. What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note: Written with the very, very doomed @avengerscompound

Chapter 18: The Celebrations

After bathing Thor, Steve and Bucky helped him to the bedroom. I followed after and toweled both of us off and I put on a very simple slip dress over nothing. Sam and Bruce joined us to help patch up Thor who was still trying to fight the fact he needed help, though thankfully not as hard.

Bruce was very green around the edges and each time he spoke it was accompanied by a deep grunt that was definitely not him, but rather the Hulk wanting to push through.

“Hulk, we need Bruce right now,” I said putting my hand on Bruce’s arm. “I know seeing Thor like this upsets you, but the man who did this is dead. It’s taken care of.”

Bruce made a strained sound. “He wants to see proof.”

“I can get Sif to take you to see, but this first,” I said to Hulk.

The green faded back and he took a few deep breaths. “How do you just talk him down like that?”

I shrugged a little. “He trusts me, I guess.”

Sam was by Thor’s ankle manipulating it a little, while Thor gritted his teeth. “You know, Bruce, I can probably handle this. This is a dislocation, not a break, and there are two sets of stitches. I’ve got it.”

Bruce patted Sam’s shoulder appreciatively. “Thanks, Sam.”

I followed Bruce out of the room to arrange for Sif to take him to see the body of Elder Vasnor. She agreed quickly and approached Bruce. “Follow me.”

“I - I don’t want to see the body,” Bruce said. “Not if Thor looked like that.”

“Then you should give over control. It’s probably for the best anyway, he wants to see that everyone is safe.” I said.

He looked around the room a little panicked. “Who’s going to bring me back?”

I raised my eyebrow at him and he nodded. “Sorry.” He said. “Okay, stand back.”

I stepped back from him and he doubled over, muscles twisting and expanding as Hulk quickly took over.

“Hey, Big Guy. Sif is going to take you, okay?” I said. “This is a palace though and you need to be on your best behavior.”

“Hulk want Thor first,” Hulk grunted.

I led him back into the bedroom where Sam was working on the stitches. Hulk lumbered up to Hulk and placed one large finger on Thor’s cheek.

“I am fine, I promise,” Thor said running his hand over Hulk’s finger.

Hulk gave a nod and grunted and took his hand away before turning to Sif. “Ready.”

“Alright, follow me.” She said and headed back out of the room. Hulk followed after her.

“You need a nurse, Sammy?” I asked.

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” Sam said suggestively.

“You know I would, dirty bird.” I teased.

“Pass me the scissors,” Sam said.

I stayed with him until all of Thor’s cuts were patched up and then I helped Thor redress.

When the three of us stepped back out into the living room the warriors three began to clap. “Time to celebrate our victor!” ��Volstagg roared and brought Thor over a large tankard of mead. He began to pour more cups for everyone else.

“I don’t think most of us can drink that, Volstagg,” Wanda said.

“I don’t know what it is, but you can count me in,” Tony said coming over.

“Tony! It might kill you!” I squawked.

“If he waters it down he may be able to handle half a cup,” Thor said.

Tony pouted. “Fine. Ruin all my fun.”

Cups of the watered-down mead were passed around to most of us, Wanda and I passed completely while Bucky and Steve took a tankard full. Fandral had taken a seat next to Loki who was starting to relax a little and was talking to Wanda when Sif returned with the Hulk.

I got up and went to Hulk wrapping my arm around his and putting my hand on the back of his hand. “Look, Big Guy. We patched up Thor and now we’re having a party.”

“Thor, good?” Hulk asked.

“Well, we were really worried about his leg being broken. So Sam did an x-ray and he looked at it and said ‘Oh no, this is exactly what I’m afraid of.’ Thor was so worried and asked him what it was. Sam said ‘a skeleton’.”

Hulk looked at me confused for a second before he broke out in gentle laughter. “Hulk’s dork.” He said patting my head.

“Yeah. He’s fine, aren’t you Thor?” I said.

“Perfectly. And now we celebrate!” Thor called back.

“Are you okay now? Everyone is fine. The man is dead.” I said.

Hulk shrugged and shifted a little.

“Do you want to see the kids?” I asked.

He huffed and nodded.

“Alright. Quiet though. They’re sleeping.” I said and led him into the children’s room. They were both tucked up into their beds, sleeping soundly. Pietro was cuddling a teddy bear while Riley was spread out like a starfish with her mouth hanging open. Hulk moved in close and looked them both over carefully before coming back over to me and touching my shoulder.

“Okay?” I asked.

He nodded and we left the room. “Okay,” I said, closing the door behind us. “Anything else you want to do while you’re here, big guy?”

He shook his head and looked back at the kids’ room.

“I’ll talk to Bruce about letting you spend some time with them tomorrow,” I assured him.

He nodded again and kissed the top of my head. “Love you, El.”

“Love you too, Big Guy,” I said.

He took a step back and shrunk back down. I moved in quickly to support Bruce. “You okay? Need anything?”

He blinked at me and nodded. “I’m a bit dizzy.”

“Come, sit down. I’ll get you some water and something to eat.” I said and led him to the couch.

I got him something to eat and drink and sat close to him as he ate. He relaxed a little as everyone around him got drunker and more handsy with each other, but he still sat very stiffly.

“Has he settled?” I asked, putting an arm around him.

“He isn’t pushing so hard, but he’s still just under.” He said. “I think he’s worried about something else happening.”

I leaned in close to him and put my hand on his thigh. “You know,” I whispered. “Since we’ve been here, we’ve been dealing with stress in a very specific way. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in that would you?”

“Are you going to say sex?” Bruce asked.

“I am alluding to sex. Yes.”

Bruce took a sip of his water and put his cup down. “Okay.”

“‘Okay’ as in good to know. Or ‘okay’ as in yes please.” I asked.

“The latter.”

I got up and offered him my hand. “Let’s go then.”

“Night everyone,” I said as the two of us headed to my bedroom.

“You’re gonna miss all the fun,” Natasha warned.

“Trust me when I say, I will absolutely not be missing out on any fun,” I assured her.

“Drunk super soldiers and a congratulatory orgy.” Natasha sang.

“Congratul-orgy.” Clint joked.

“We’ll risk it. Have fun, everyone!” I called.

There were calls of goodnight as I shut the door behind us. He turned to me and I let what I was wearing slip and fall to the ground. “Now, Doctor Banner,” I said stepping out of the fabric pooled at my feet. His eyes traveled up and down my body. “I know that sometimes you worry about the Hulk being right there during sex. I know he won’t come out with me though. So just do what feels right. You don’t need to limit yourself.” I put my hands on his shoulders and slid them up to his neck. “Which means either listening to what he wants or ignoring him and just doing what you want. Do whatever you want and need to do to help you relax. Whatever that is.”

Bruce’s hands went to my hips and he flexed his fingers against my bare skin. “Elise.”

“Yes, Bruce?” I asked, looking into his eyes.

“Do you know what you’re saying?” He asked. “To me? To us?”

I nodded and grazed my teeth over my bottom lip. “Yes. And I trust you both. Do you understand that? I know neither of you will hurt me. I know I’m safe and you need to know you are too.”

Bruce leaned in and ghosted his lips up my neck, as his fingers flexed against my hips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tilted my head a little, letting him take his time to come to this on his own.

He grabbed me suddenly, one hand bunching in my hair, and the other moving to my thigh and he shoved me up against the door. We kissed hungrily, him leading as he ground into me. The fabric of his ruined pants grinding against my bare pussy as his cock hardened inside them.

My hands went to his hair and I tugged on it, making him growl softly into my lips and his own hand tighten in my hair. He pulled my head back, making me gasp as we broke the kiss. He kissed down my neck and sucked at the dip of my collarbone. A soft moan escaped from me and I rolled my hips against him.

His hand slid down my back and when it reached my thigh he lifted me and pushed my harder into the door. “Fuck, Bruce.” I gasped, wrapping my legs around him.

He made a deep rumble sound and adjusted his hold of me, so his hands were on my ass and his fingertips skimmed over my wet pussy. “The things you do to me, El.” He said.

“Show me.” I moaned tearing his shirt open.

He spun around and carried me to the bed. When we reached it he dropped me down and dragged me to the edge, kneeling between my legs and nosing at my cunt. He used his fingers to spread my folds and ran his tongue from my entrance to my clit, sending a pulse up my spine and making me buck my hips up against him.

There was another growl and grabbed my thigh holding me down as he began to work my cunt like a man who had been dying of thirst that had just found a lake. His tongue swirled over my clit and pushed inside me as he used it to taste every part of me. My moans became louder and louder as he became more and more frenzied. Nipping at my clit and sucking hard on it.

He only used his mouth though. His hands were only used to hold me in place. Still, I was falling apart for him, bucking and jerking and trying to escape the orgasm that was bearing down on me.

I cried out and arched my back as I came hard on his face. He moaned as he continued to suck and lick at my cunt.

He stood and I lay back panting and watched as he rid himself of his clothes. When he was naked I rolled over and crawled up the bed. I was only halfway up when he moved up behind me and pulled my legs out from under me and pressed me into the mattress, rutting against my ass.

“B,” I moaned pushing back against him.

“I’m going to show you, L.” He whispered as he lined himself up with my entrance and sunk deep into me.

“Fuck. Bruce.” I moaned, reaching behind me and carding his fingers through his hair. He kissed the side of my neck and began to fuck me hard. I was helpless under him and I loved it. I loved it when he trusted himself to be rough with me. I loved that he loved me enough to trust that I trusted him to let go.

His arm snaked around me and he rubbed my clit hard. I turned my head and leaned back, capturing his lips and moaning into them as I got closer and closer to the edge of climax.

His fingers worked quickly and he fucked me hard. I moaned and whimpered against his lips as I came apart. My body clenched and then spasmed and I came, crying out and breaking the kiss.

He kept thrusting hard and deep, his face pressed into my neck. With a grunt and a hard thrust that pushed me down into the mattress he came, pulsing inside me.

We stayed like that for a while. I liked the weight of his body on mine and the feel of his cock just resting inside me as it stilled.

As his breathing settled he hummed and slipped from me and rolled off. “Okay, that did really help,” Bruce said, laying on his back. “Thank you.”

I lay down with my head on his chest and ran my fingers through his chest hair. “You don’t need to thank me. I really enjoyed it.”

“You still don’t understand, El. After all these years. What it means for me to be able to do this with you.” He said.

I sat up a little and looked him in the eye. “Bruce. I understand. You still don’t have to thank me. All I do is love you. That bit is easy. The rest is all you.”

A soft smile played on his lips and he pulled me into a deep kiss. I melted into it, content that he was finally relaxed.

// NEXT

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moonchildsaurora · 4 years

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The social butterfly of a Tech Genius

»»—— Crew Member #6 of Space Pirates ATEEZ ——««

all aboard The Perihelion, welcome to the co-pilot’s log system! here you’ll be able to access the crew’s profiles should you wish to read about their journeys: (no nsfw content)

[CAPTAIN] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

an underestimated intellect with huge love for the cyber world and technology

you hear him before you see him in a crowd

a Drex’un who was born and lived his life in the technology-thriving city of Vollurn up until he was invited to join Hongjoong and Seonghwa on their journey

[database file: Drex’uns are often described as demon-borne even though not all bloodlines are derived from infernal ancestry. Purely for the fact that prominent horns protude from their heads, a prehensile tail that’s used for grabbing things and will coil around their legs when upset/nervous, sharp canines and eye colours that cover the entire sclera. Depending on bloodline, some Drex’uns have elemental abilities]

Mingi isn’t sure about his bloodline as he never knew his parents, though his intelligence goes far beyond that of an average being’s. Not only does he process knowledge extremely fast, his memory is remarkable; able to recall even the tiniest details and his ability to analyse/break codes allows him to have free reign in the cyber networks

his teal-coloured horns and tail have onyx gradient tips, adorned with a few gold jewellery (his actual ears are also pierced with hoops) to complement his molten gold eyes

making heads turn, be it for his energetic presence or fashionable attire; “just because I grew up on the streets doesn’t mean I have no pride for my looks”

learnt to be resourceful and street-smart at a young age, knows all the short cuts and side alleys of the city like the back of his hand (he’s had a lot of time to wander around). Also found out that he had a knack for by-passing security systems whenever he needed shelter for the night

frequents the ‘Merripalace Arcade’ where it’s both an underground hangout for tech whizzes and the cyber battlegrounds for competitive players. The first visit gave him a taste of a different kind of freedom and an introduction to the world of hacking. It’s probably one of the few places he’s felt a part of a community; no judgement of your species nor your background but rather your digital reputation is more valued and the sort of technological talents you bring to the network

if there’s one thing Mingi is a natural at it’s socialising, he could walk into a club alone and come back out later with a new social circle if he so wishes

“ok who DON’T you know here?”

“just look at that face, how can you say no to him?” – Mingi is walking proof that Drex’uns can pull off the puppy-dog face and get away with it

he was gifted a second-hand mirage drive by Einux, a Nagzoid [database file: a reptilian humanoid being with serpent ancestry so they tend to have more snake-like features] who became a shot-term mentor figure after Mingi unintentionally helped crack a system code for a database Einux was commissioned to work on (because Mingi thought that guy was just really bad at math on first glance)

[database file: a mirage drive is pretty much a miniature tablet with a hologram touch-screen and every tech whizz would protect theirs with their lives; especially when were layers of secret activities and programs stored into it]

“you remembered to wipe clean the data trail and replace the originals with the dud files right?”

“yeah of course...does planting a virus in the system that will cause ‘Time Warp’ to play every time they try to click open a file counts?”

“Mingi, I…….”

Einux introduced Mingi to his network of contacts and helped set him up with his first commission, safe to say Mingi was at a loss for words when he got his first pay up front (and that was just the deposit)

by the time Yunho had come across Mingi at the Tech Institute, he had been in the cyber scene for 4+ years already and never once had to deal with someone catching him in the act

Mingi.exe has stopped working

he’s met a couple of Sheirzois before but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t lowkey checking out the blue-haired giant whilst panicking on the inside, he’d argue there’s always time to appreciate beauty

two options popped into his mind then and there; either he bribed his way out (as his mentor taught him) or he attempted to maybe throw some punches and then make a getaway

(expectation) looks like he’s intimidating & can fight vs. (reality) he’d probably cry if he hit someone & is just a soft boy all-round

extra trivia: ironically for an infernal being, Mingi doesn’t deal well with anything supernatural/ghosts-related. Once Woo and Yeosang pranked him, Yunho helped a little but he doesn’t need to know, and convinced him that the basement storage hanger was haunted after totems started appearing in odd places along with ominous noises. Mingi was so ready to abandon ship before Hongjoong did damage control & Jongho promised he’d fight all the ghosts for him

was already metaphorically weeping at the thought of having to empty his money pouch but turned out that Otis (his multi-coding bot) had somehow manage to win the Sheirzoi over along with an invite to drinks

“I’ve got many questions for you regarding your efficiently adorable bot”

“…and I to you as well, BUT first do you have a name? And secondly have you been to ‘Le Apollon’? Coz if not they make some really mean Northern Drops there!”

Yunho turned out to be one of the most chilled individual Mingi has met and he didn’t mind the other’s enthusiastic discussions about all technological inventions, and was even just as enthusiastic to share with Yunho about his own passion for cyber tech

one too many drinks later Mingi was accidentally spilling secrets he definitely wasn’t meant to and even ended up dancing on the table at some point, all while Yunho hyped his new friend up on the side

was forever grateful that Yunho never ratted him out to the authorities and consider him shook for the 2nd time in that day when he was offered a roof over his head, a more permanent one too

“do you want to be the big spoon, or is it my turn? We can rotate!”

thus the bromance of all bromances was born

living with Yunho not only meant Mingi would wake up to good vibes, but more than often would wake up to either the screeching of the smoke alarm or “HOLY SMOKES WHERE ARE THE WATER PODS? DID WE RUN OUT OF THEM? AGAIN?!”

putting out accidental fires became second nature to Mingi, initially he’d aggressively fret over Yunho but now he’s come to accept such is the life of a chaotic bright inventor and this is fine

in fact when Hongjoong and Seonghwa came across their humble abode (thanks to Yunho’s cleaning bot) it was an iconic first meeting over smoke. Yunho did most of the talking when Hongjoong pitched his desire to recruit a crew for space voyage, Mingi too busy sitting there staring at the two new-comers with shooting stars in his eyes and hearing about the prospects of an adventure. Within that day the crew had gain 2 more members, because Mingi and Yunho are a combo package deal

“oh has the system be glitching? If you don’t mind, would you like me to have a look at it?”

Hongjoong did a happy dance on the spot knowing that not only did he now have a talented inventor on his ship but also a gifted tech genius, he put Mingi in charge of managing the mainframe systems along with intel collecting this decision that Hongjoong would later semi-regret because (at times) the word “self-control” doesn’t seem to exist in Mingi’s vocab

Seonghwa adopted him and Yunho pretty easily and space mum’s cooking is Mingi’s fave, occasionally using his puppy-dog face he’s perfected over the years to his advantage in gaining extra midnight snacks (being everyone’s baby, no one’s really immune to this)

“Hwa you’re supposed to be the one disciplining the kids!”

Mingi and Yunho were known to be the chaotic fun duo, but with Wooyoung is just chaotic – not to mention he got his Yunhogizer confiscated by Hongjoong for almost a week after, “I thought we were all comparing assets, Wooyoung sent his to the group chat so I figured this was some kind of crew bonding”

also was one half of the reason that the ‘whatever happens at the Tav/clubs, stays at the Tav/clubs’ rule got implemented and one-night sexytimes were banned aboard The Perihelion after Jongho witnessed a random still semi-nude humanoid trying to sneak out of Mingi’s room without being noticed (Hwa went on parent-mode and panicked yell whilst covering Jongho’s eyes)

Jongho avoided Mingi (out of sheer embarrassment) for a few days and that was pretty devastating, considering how close the two became in their friendship that Mingi was one of the very few people in the crew whom Jongho was openly clingy with at times

no one can argue about Mingi’s loyalty to his crew/new family, and under his care-free flamboyant exterior he’s a genuine listener and will not hesitate to offer his shoulder for his family to lean on whenever they need it

recently he’s created new software to enhance Seonghwa’s cybernetic lenses (as a birthday gift) that’d allow him to see clearly miles ahead, in the dark and lock-on tracking function. What Mingi failed to let Hwa know was that he still hasn’t disconnected the sync link to his mirage drive and therefore if, for example, an image was sent through it’d appear in the other user’s field of vision

“wait for it, wait”

“what exactly are we waiting for Mingi? And why are you giggling over a screaming pink…starfish?” (that’s Patrick Star by the way)

seconds later there was a clamouring from the bathroom, the solid sound of someone falling before, “MINGI!”

“that my good lads, is what we were wa-oh whoops gotta go!”

(moodboard made with love, by @s1ardusk ♡)

#ateez headcanons #atzinc #atinyforatiny #aurorateeznet #ateez scenarios #pirate ateez #pirate ateez au #ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez blurbs #song mingi #ateez mingi #ateez writing #ateez fic #Perihelion Crew #pyx writes

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animeniacss · 4 years

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A Palette of Emotions - Artist! Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 5 - Taehyung’s First Day

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 6k words

Chapter 5 - Taehyung’s First Day

The first day of school was always a bittersweet moment. Weeping mother’s and father’s releasing the hands of their children as they stroll into the school building, their backpack taking up most of their tiny bodies. Even as children get older, entering middle school, high school, and even college, it can be a difficult pill to swallow as you watch a child grow up. This tends to be the case with younger children and parents experiencing this for the first time. However, for some reason, Taehyung found himself standing in the middle of his living room, watching Jimin walk in and out of his bedroom with multiple different outfits, rubbing his chin as he examined each one. He had been like this all day, like a mother who was getting ready to ship their child off to a new chapter in their lives behind giant gates and wooden desks.

Jimin seemed to think he was one of those mothers at this moment.

“Jimin…” Taehyung sighed when his friend emerged from the bedroom. “You’ve been doing this for like 2 hours. Why does it matter so much?” Jimin finally looked up.

“It’s your first day on the job tomorrow, you need a good outfit!” Taehyung sighed. It had been two weeks since he got the call from Kim Seokjin, congratulating him for the new position. As Jimin lifted a button-up shirt on a hanger, Taehyung plopped himself down on the couch as he thought back to the phone call. It was only four days after his interview.

“Congratulations, Mr. Kim. We at Bright Star Preschool are excited to welcome you as our new art teacher!”

“Wha- really?” Taehyung asked, standing up in his seat. Jimin looked up from the other side of the table, drink in his hand, and noodles slurping into his mouth.

“Yes! We loved your interview and think you’ll fit in very well with the rest of the staff.” Taehyung blinked, running a hand through his hair. Once Jimin swallowed his bite, he looked up at his friend, noticing the stunned expression on his face.

“Who is it?” he asked, but Taehyung simply waved his hand in his direction.

“Uh, can I be honest?” Taehyung asked curiously.

“Hm? Yes, of course.” Seokjin said.

“I realized after the fact that I was rude to your headteacher. Are you sure you called the right number?” There was a moment of silence, and Seokjin began to laugh.

“Do you regret what you said?”

“Well, no, but-.” Again, Seokjin began to laugh.

“Taehyungie, can I call you that?” Taehyung hummed. “I’m hiring you because of what you said. My headteacher needs to be knocked around once in a while, and honestly, I respect the absolute honesty you carry about yourself.”

“I see…”

“Are you still interested? Please say yes…” Taehyung bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair. He really needed the job, but he honestly had no idea that he would get this one, and so quickly too! “Mr. Kim?”

“Yes,” Taehyung said. He heard Seokjin let out a sigh of relief.

“Excellent. I’ll call you in the next few days so we can talk details.”

“Taehyung,” Jimin called, pulling Taehyung back to the present day. He looked at his friend with wide eyes as Jimin held out a plaid shirt with a variety of different browns and reds decorating the pattern, and off-white pants. “This is cute, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to wear stuff that’s going to get messy. I spent a lot of money on that shirt.”

“…I bought it for you last Christmas, Tae,” Jimin said, pouting. Taehyung felt guilt hit him like a sack of brick as he stared at his friend’s sad face.

“…And I appreciate it so much, it almost feels like I spent my own money to buy it,” Taehyung said quickly, nodding his head as if that quick excuse was enough to sell his lie. Jimin rolled his eyes. “Even more reason why I don’t want to dirty it.” Jimin tossed the clothes in his friend’s direction.

“Wear a smock then, dummy,” Jimin said. Taehyung chuckled a bit as he held the clothes in his hands. “What time do you need to be in tomorrow?”

“Well, since I’m joining in the middle of a year instead of at the beginning like normal, they told me to come in an hour earlier and finish setting up my little office. But I did that this weekend, so I don’t really know.”

“You did your whole room in a day?”

“I don’t have much, they stocked the room up on all the art supplies. I made all the posters and charts and stuff; I just need to hang them up when I get there tomorrow.” Jimin sighed.

“Wow, maybe you are cut out for this after all.” Jimin teased. Taehyung finally got up, laying his clothes out on the back of the couch. “Get some rest, you have a long day tomorrow.” Taehyung watched Jimin head back into Taehyung’s bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he asked curiously.

“Your bed. Consider it your apology for forgetting about my expensive Christmas gift.” Jimin playfully stuck his tongue out as he headed into the room. Taehyung hopped up, following his friend in.

“No, no, no. I get the bed.” He said, hurrying after his friend as childlike laughter erupted from the room. “Sleep on the couch if you don’t want to drive home.” Jimin tried to close the door, but Taehyung was strong and pushed it open. “Jimin.” His friend grinned.

“Alright, alright fine.” He said, finally allowing Taehyung entry. Taehyung went over to his bed and climbed into it, burying himself under the covers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“And don’t come to me if you have another nightmare.” Taehyung huffed, nuzzling his head into his pillow as he heard his friend laugh, finally exiting the room and turning off the lights. As Taehyung laid in the dark rooms, his eyes fell over to the clock. It was currently just after midnight, and he knew that the faster he fell asleep, the faster the next day would be there, and he would have to start his new job. He had no idea how he felt about that, but his eyes were heavy, and he huffed as he fell back asleep.

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

Taehyung’s trip to the preschool felt a lot longer this morning than it did when he first arrived for the interview as well as returning last weekend to prepare his room. Maybe it was the nerves, maybe it was the fact that he got only 3 hours of sleep, maybe it was both.

Probably both.

A groan escaped Taehyung’s lips as he sipped his coffee, scanning the posters that were spread out across the tables. He had a banner of the Korean alphabet, each sound represented by a color or art-related topic, allowing students to form an easy connection between art class words as well as the letters and sounds they were already being exposed to. He had also created a chart with all the student’s names on them, allowing them to give themselves a “Thumbs Up” using finger paint for each day that they behaved. If they made it to certain check marks on the chart, like a week, two weeks, etc. they earned rewards such as extra time with Playdoh, or their own set of crayons. Jimin, as well as his mother, both were a big help in giving him some ideas that would entice the children to behave while they were in his care. He had a few craft ideas for the first few weeks, that could help him get to know the students better, as well as allow them to get to know him. He even made a few examples for the kids to look at.

“Uhhh….” Taehyung pursed his lips as his eyes darted from one side of the room to the next. This was the last thing he had to do, and he had been standing and staring for a good fifteen minutes since he arrived, sipping coffee and wondering how long it might take the others to realize he snuck out the window. He tried that, the windows only cracked up slightly to not only allow a breeze to come through on hot days, but to prevent students from flinging themselves out as well. Damn it. “Okay, let’s see. I want this one to be at eye level, I guess.” He hummed, lifting the behavior chart. Just as he was trying to decide, he heard a knock at the door. “Hm? Come in.” The door popped open, and a beaming smile showed its face between the crack. Taehyung immediately recognized him as the male who entertained the students while he had his interview, but he never caught his name.

“Hi there.” He said happily, stepping in. “We haven’t met yet, but I wanted to introduce myself.” He walked over, sticking out a hand for Taehyung. “I’m the Teacher’s Assistant here, Jung Hoseok, but the kids love to call me Mr. Hobi. Great to meet you.”

I feel like I’m staring at the sun. Taehyung thought to himself, unable to pull his eyes from the heartwarming smile plastered on Hoseok’s face. Finally, he stuck out his hand as well, shaking it as he offered a bow of his head.

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Kim Taehyung.”

“You excited?” Hoseok asked. “I can feel your hand kind of trembling.”

“Just a bit,” Taehyung admitted. “Never thought I would be a teacher.” Hoseok offered a happy chuckle.

“It seems like a lot at first, but the kids are really cute and lots of fun, so you’ll be just fine.” Taehyung nodded, not sure if that helped him in the way Hoseok had intended it to. Hoseok tilted his head, examining the posters behind Taehyung that were still resting on the table. “Are you still setting up?”

“Yeah. I was so invested in actually creating everything, I never set any of it up when I was here. That and Mr. Kim had three different twenty-minute conversations with me through the day.” Hoseok laughed a bit.

“He does that. Do you need help?” Taehyung blinked, hesitating for a moment. “…I’ll take the silence as a yes.” Hoseok walked to the desk, picking up a huge rainbow. “Waaaaaah! This is amazing. You made this?”

“Yeah. I don’t normally use rainbow colors, but I read online that kids like bright colors, so…” he shrugged. “Rainbow.” Hoseok nodded. “Besides, maybe we can make something with it someday, you know?”

“Cool. Where do you want it?” He asked. Taehyung scanned the room, finally pointing to a blank wall right beside the door. “Awesome.” Without hesitation, Hoseok grabbed a few pieces of tape and flipped the dried painting over, securing it with tape and bringing it over to the wall. “I’m really glad you’re here, Kim Taehyung.”

“Thank you, sunba-.”

“Don’t even,” Hoseok said quickly, turning over his shoulder to offer Taehyung a stern look. “Call me Mr. Hobi like everyone else. I’m nobody’s mentor.”

“…Hyung?” Taehyung asked curiously. Hoseok nodded, humming.

“I’ll take that too.” He said, smoothing the rainbow out with his hands. “There. Really cute.” Taehyung lifted the behavior chart, taping it up to the wall right beside his little desk. His desk had a plate with his name on it, a binder of all information regarding the children, and another folder that consisted of different pictures of crafts and notes he had made over the past few days. It was simple, but he didn’t mind. Not like he would be at his desk often anyway. “What else do we got?” Hoseok asked, walking back over towards the table.

As the duo worked diligently, Taehyung looked at Hoseok, who was taping the back of posters as he hummed a little tune.

“So, what other kinds of people work here? Is it just us four?” Hoseok looked up.

“Oh, no. Three days a week, one of the local high school gym teachers and coaches, Min Yoongi, comes by on his lunch break for an hour and does the gym class. Mr. Kim said he had to work with him on the schedule those days, since now you’ve kind of taken his spot, but I think he’s just going to push your time back an hour for those days.”

“Oh, okay,” Taehyung said.

“Mr. Kim will probably tell you about it when he gives you a final schedule for the week. Don’t stress. He may look silly and carefree, but he’s meticulous and good at keeping things organized.” Taehyung nodded. “But other than Yoongi-Hyung, we get two older women who sometimes act like lunch aids and watch the kids while they eat, but that’s kind of on a touch and go basis, you know?”

“This is the weirdest preschool I’ve ever seen.” Taehyung joked. “I wish I went here as a kid.” Hoseok laughed a bit.

“Yeah, so do I.” He admitted. “But I’m going to call Hyung and tell him to come by today and say hi, even though he’s not scheduled.”

“Alright.”

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

You were walking down the hallway, shuffling papers in your hand, when you passed by the art room door. It was a short walk from your classroom, the building was not particularly big on the inside. As your eyes wandered up towards the door, you saw a banner reading: “Welcome, Mr. Kim! Fighting!” On the top. Seokjin had placed it up there when he arrived this morning, with the help of an exhausted Hoseok, and Taehyung looked surprised when he saw it hanging there. At least, that’s what Hoseok told you. When you arrived, you stayed in your classroom, preparing for the day and making sure that you had enough materials for all of the day’s lessons for each student. You had no interest in welcoming Taehyung into this “family” as Seokjin began calling it. Ever since his interview, his deep voice kept popping into the back of your head to replay the same line over and over.

If you did your job and taught them basic respect towards adults, then I’ll be sure to work hard and keep them on that track.

Just thinking about it again made you crumple the paper currently sitting on your hand and toss it angrily into the trash beside your desk. How could he be so cocky so quickly? The anger that was bubbling up inside of you made you have to take a stroll down the hallway of the building, escaping for your classroom, which suddenly felt very claustrophobic the longer you were in there. Though you were shuffling papers, you weren’t focused on them, you just intended to run your brain around before the day began. And that was how you ended up in front of the art room, staring at the banner above the door. It wasn’t visually appealing, but it wasn’t meant to be up for a long time. Just as you were ready to continue down the hallway, the door to the art room opened, and you looked towards it. Hoseok popped his head out, stretching his arms.

“Your room looks great, Taehyungie~!” Hoseok said. You saw Taehyung stick his head out behind Hoseok, smiling.

“Thank you for your help.” He said.

“Of course. I’m going to go to get-.” Hoseok turned on his heel as he spoke, his eyes landing directly on you. “Oh! There you are.” He grinned. He hurried to you, taking your arm. “You saved me a trip back to the classroom, come see Taehyung’s room, it looks amazing!” You glanced at Taehyung, who stood watching by the door. His head bowed, and he smiled. The slight sparkle of excitement behind his eyes may look whimsical to the normal eye, but every sparkle in Taehyung’s eyes only seemed to spark in your face, burning you with its fiery touch. You huffed, shaking your arm from Hoseok’s grasp. “What?”

“I need to take stuff to Mr. Kim.” You said simply. Just as you were about to turn on your heel, Hoseok took your hand again. “Hoseok-.”

“Mr. Kim said he was going to stop by here in a few minutes to give Taehyung the schedule for the week, so don’t worry, you can give them to him then.” You blinked, shooting daggers at your friend, who shielded himself from them with familiar ease. “You don’t want to miss him, do you?” Your eyes scanned back up to Taehyung, who still stood, hands at his sides, and his neck craned to look at the banner above his door. You saw his eyes continue to sparkle as he stared at it, and Hoseok, not waiting any longer for a response, simply began leading you into the room. “Come on.”

Stepping into the room was like a huge, burst of color when compared to the lights that were illuminating the colorful pictures in the hallways. It felt as if you were in another universe, a world where it looked like someone had put a bright lens over your eyes. Colors seemed almost neon, and you instinctively had to squint for a moment when you first stepped in. The first big thing you noticed was the smell. It smelt new, like the inside of a new car, or the smell of a brand-new book that was recently cracked open at the spine. That, or maybe it was the lemon-scented Lysol wipes that were used to wipe down the tables every day. Everywhere you looked, there was something to admire. The huge painted rainbow beside the door, giant, colorful closets filled with any sort of art supplies one person could imagine, and maybe even more. All the stuff in your classroom that was unneeded was pulled out and instead placed in his closest, leaving you with two empty closets that you needed to figure out a purpose for. You noticed the behavior chart, titled “Thumbs Up for Good Behavior”. All the posters were given clever puns if the opportunity presented itself. A sense of familiarity washed over you, though it was a feeling you had long since forgotten. The brightness of the room, the newly laminated posters, the curiosity of what would come in store the first moment those kids strolled through the front door, curiosity, and wonder filling their little eyes. It was something you had long since forgotten, being in your classroom for as many years as one of your little ones could count on a single hand.

“Doesn’t it look great?” Hoseok asked, looking at you. You looked at him, seeing him grin in satisfaction. “It kind of reminds me of when we decorated your classroom for the first time.”

“It looks…good,” you said softly. Taehyung sighed in relief, smiling.

“Thanks. My mom helped me with some of the ideas, but I made everything. I’m pretty proud of how it came out.” You watched as Taehyung walked to his desk, running a hand along the wood surface. “I’m excited, now that everything is set up and ready.”

“You’re going to do great,” Hoseok said, giving a thumbs up. You glanced back down at the papers in your hands, noticing now that they were once again crumpled in your fist, most likely while you stared in awe at the room around you.

“Can I come in?” A third voice hummed behind the sound of a knock on the door. When the three of you looked over, Seokjin stood there, grinning. He was holding something in his hands, a small box with the words Song’s Bakery scribbled on the top in a bright, bubbly pink color. “I brought donuts for us~.”

“Oooooo~.” Hoseok and Taehyung hummed in unison, walking over towards the box and staring inside it with wide eyes and salivating mouths. “Those look so good.”

“Thanks, ~.” He grinned. “I bought them on the way here, but I didn’t want to bring them over until you finished the room.” Seokjin’s eyes scanned the vicinity, and he chuckles. “It looks incredible.” You watched as Seokjin and Taehyung chatted, Hoseok’s eyes staring down at the donuts while he silently waited for permission from his boss to take one. Seokjin glanced down at his employee and raised an eyebrow in amusement at his friend. “…Go ahead, Hoseok,” Seokjin said. An excited squeal came from Hoseok’s mouth as he reached in and lifted one. “You too, Taehyung.” He nodded, taking out his choice before Seokjin turned to you. “…Go on~.”

“I can’t stay.” You said as you reached out to take a donut. “I need to finish preparing for the day.” Seokjin nodded.

“I put a new weekly schedule on your desk with Taehyung’s time block in it.” You nodded, waving your hand as you exited the room, biting into the donut in hopes that it would prevent any further conversation. Closing the door behind you, Seokjin lifted his donut and glanced at Taehyung, who was eating silently. “Don’t worry, the kids are much more mature than her.” He teased, and Taehyung chuckled a bit. “Now, can you give me a little room tour?”

The walk to your room was silent, the only sound being that of your heels clapping against the floor, and the quick-paced chewing of the donut you were finishing up. Stepping into your room felt…different than it did when you stepped in it an hour before. The room was fully lit, with bright lights and colorful pictures decorating the room, even more so than Taehyung’s room. However, standing in the front door, it felt much dimmer than before, though nothing had changed. It was a familiar feeling that washed over you, but…a different familiarity than the one that hit you in Taehyung’s room. You walked past the desks, smelling the fading scent of the Lemon-scented wipes Hoseok had used to wipe them down before. You sank into your seat, flipping over the folder of today’s activities. You knew you had lessons to finalize if you wanted to get a head start on the upcoming weeks, however, you couldn’t find the motivation to move, until the door opened, and Hoseok popped his head in.

“The kids are starting to arrive.” He said. You nodded, standing up from your seat and heading out to the front of the building with him. You didn’t see Taehyung exit his room, and honestly, you didn’t want him too. Hoseok must’ve seen you looking because he quickly looped your arms together. “He said he’ll meet the kids when they come in for their art lesson. Mr. Kim said that he’s going to be there today, and he wants me to stay in there with the kids for the first week or two.” Your eyes went wide as you looked at him. “It’s just to help Taehyung get situated with the kids and their behaviors. Once they do, I’m all yours to help prepare. Besides, you like silence, don’t you?”

“I guess…” you said. Just as you both stepped outside, you saw a set of car doors open up, and little kids hopping out of the backseats, fixing their bags.

“Teacher! Mr. Hobi!” Yuna shouted, hurrying over as her pigtails bounced freely on the sides of her head. “Look! I cut my hair, but it’s still long enough for pigtails!”

“That’s lovely, Yuna~,” Hoseok said, kneeling to her level. You watched as the next student to hurry over, rambunctious Beomgyu, was holding something in his hands.

“Look!” He shouted, holding up a child-sized police hat. “Daddy bought it for me!”

“So cool. Do you want to use it for Show and Tell?” you asked, patting his head. Beomgyu grinned, nodding excitedly at the thought alone. “Okay then~ You can go first.” Beomgyu’s eyes sparkled, and he hurried towards his best friend, Kai, to show him as well. You watched as Namjoon stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him and calling out to his son, was already totally invested in Beomgyu’s cool hat.

“Kai!” He called, and his son looked over. “Come here. I need to go, or I’ll be late.” As Kai hurried over to give his father a big hug, his eyes raised and landed on you. You were not in the mood for this now, but still, you offered him a polite smile and raised your hand in his direction. He did the same, his grin a bit wider than yours, however. After squeezing his son goodbye, he stepped back a bit to head to his side of the car, only to bump into the car door just slightly. You could see his eyes widened a bit in surprise as he turned to look at the car, then back to you. A sheepish smile crossed his face and you couldn’t help but chuckle. With another wave goodbye, Namjoon finally made it into his car and sped off. The kids were arriving quickly, all talking to you about their weekends and everything that they did. You had to settle them quickly, before leading them inside to start the day. As you walked down the hallway, Hoseok shuffling the kids playfully into the classroom as they giggled, you looked at the door that sat still farther away. You had to admit, you were wondering what he was doing right now if he was doing anything at all. He was meant to have the kids around 12:30, right after their hour lunch break, leaving you alone for a good forty-five minutes to get some much-needed work done. However, that was a few hours away, and they were yours until then. Closing the door behind you, a grin shot onto your face and the day began.

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

Taehyung was looking over the student information while he waited, as well as mentally prepared himself for the introduction period with the kids. Knowing that Seokjin and Hoseok, who knew these students well already, would be there assisting him for a while, made him feel a bit more at ease, but the last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself. As he flipped through the pages of a binder, glancing down at his phone as Jimin sent the occasional good luck text, Taehyung was trying to put names to faces before they kids even arrived, since their school pictures were also provided. It felt as if time was moving at a snail’s pace for him as if 12:30 would never get here. He was already hungry, but maybe that was nerves? He had no idea, but he greedily stuffed his sweet bread into his mouth anyway at 10:00. While he was setting materials up at each desk for their introduction project, a simple self-portrait using paint, he wondered if there were any bad kids. The paperwork didn’t show any kids with behavior issues, but you never know with kids who can count their age on one hand. They liked to test the waters, he used to be like that when he was a tot, according to his mother. Just the thought of having to discipline kids sort of terrified him, and he hoped it would never come to that.

11:30 rolled around and Taehyung heard kids chattering as they headed outside for lunch, the beautiful day allowing them permission to use the picnic tables by the playground. Taehyung was tempted to get up and say hello, but he was unsure if you had even mentioned to the kids that he would be a new teacher in their daily routines. The last thing he wanted was to mess anything up. So, he sat in his room.

“What’s that sign say, Mr. Hobi?” He heard a little girl ask.

“That’s a surprise.” Mr. Hobi hummed. “You’ll see it right after lunch, okay? Aren’t you happy we get to eat lunch with you today?” Immediately, a group of kids began to express their undying excitement at the idea, and Hoseok let out an amused laugh before the disappeared out one of the side doors and out onto the fields. Taehyung hummed, walking out the door. Slowly, he propped it open and poked his head out. He was the only one in the hallway, the sound of children still heard, but extremely faint. There was only an hour left before it was his time to shine, and he could feel it. Seokjin was planning to arrive before the kids did in hopes of offering any last-minute assistance, but Taehyung said he was ready. He wasn’t.

“Hey! Is that the new kid?” An unfamiliar voice hummed from behind Taehyung. Quickly, he spun around to see yet another male walking over to him. He was a bit shorter than the other teachers here, with dark black hair and a pair of dark-rimmed glasses over his eyes. The other man could immediately sense the confusion and nervousness coming from Taehyung, and he laughed. “Must be. Hoseok called me before about it being your first day. I wanted to come to say hi.” He walked over. “I’m Yoongi, the gym teacher.” He stuck his hand out towards Taehyung. When he realized this, his eyes widened a bit, and he took his Hyung’s hand quickly.

“O-oh, of course. Hi. I’m Kim Taehyung, the new art teacher. How are you?”

“Fine. You settling in?” he asked. Taehyung nodded. “Good. Everyone’s talking about how great you are, so I’m excited to work with you.”

“Everyone?” he asked, feeling a bit hopeful. Yoongi chuckled.

“Yeah, well…except…” he glanced back at the door to your classroom, Taehyung following his gaze for a moment. “But that’s not important right now.” Yoongi looked back at him. “Can I see the classroom? I don’t get anything but open fields here so I always like to glance when I can.” Taehyung nodded and led him inside. He watched as Yoongi looked around. “Wow. Colorful. I like it.”

“Thank you.” He said. Yoongi looked at him, still sensing the ball of nerves forming in Taehyung’s stomach.

“Nervous?” he asked. Taehyung nodded once again. “Don’t be. The kids are great.”

“I just want to have a good project for the first day. I was going to do a self-portrait but that’s kind of boring.” Yoongi chuckled.

“I’m sure you’ll be okay.” He offered, patting Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung nodded. “I can’t stay long, I need to head back to school. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? Good luck today, and don’t be nervous. The kids can sense nerves.”

“Can they?”

“They feed off fear, little kids.” Yoongi hummed. Though he was kidding, the way he said it sent shivers down Taehyung’s spine. Yoongi laughed again as he headed out the door, Taehyung following behind. “Bye, Taehyung. It was nice meeting you.”

“You too.” Taehyung agreed, bowing slightly to his new Hyung. Yoongi smiled a bit, putting his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Taehyung looked up at the banner as he watched Yoongi begin to walk away. As minutes ticked away, Taehyung tried to rack his brain for a good idea. He wanted to get to know the 17 little ones that he would be sharing his love for art with. He wanted to know the ins and outs of their behavior, what they liked, and disliked, how they reacted in certain situations. Would he get all that from a little self-portrait on a piece of printer paper? After a moment, he quickly looked back to his Hyung, who was almost down the hall. “HYUNG?!” Yoongi quickly turned around. “I’m sorry. Can you help me with something fast?” He pointed to the banner as Yoongi made his way back over. His eyes were raised to the banner, and he raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not making you a banner.” He said. Taehyung chuckled a bit.

“I need help taking it down and into my classroom.” Yoongi hummed.

“Alright.” He said. Taehyung nodded as he hurried quickly towards the janitor’s closet.

He had a plan.

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

When the kids returned from lunch and washed their hands, 12:30 rolled around. You never expected it to go this fast, it rarely went this fast! Hoseok stood by the front door, watching as you lined students up based on how well they were sitting at their seats. Yeji was first, and Kai and Yeonjun were last. It was the same as it always was.

“Where are we going?” Kai asked up, lifting his hand in hopes you would take it. You did, and he smiled.

“We’re going to…meet a brand-new friend for art.” You said.

“Oooohhh.” He hummed, though most likely not knowing what you meant by that. You signaled Hoseok that he was good to go, and he began to lead the kids down the hallway. The second they turned the corner, they saw Taehyung standing at the front door of the art room, Seokjin standing beside him. They immediately began waving to their favorite principal.

“Hello, hello, yes!” Seokjin grinned. “Hi, my little ones. Come inside, we have a lot of fun stuff to talk about today.” Taehyung was waving silently, a smile on his face as the kids offered curious, yet jovial, waves back. It wasn’t until Yuna looked up at him that someone asked:

“Who are you?” Taehyung knelt to the little girl, who was tugging at her pigtail.

“My name is Mr. Kim. We’re all going to meet each other inside, okay?” Yuna nodded.

“I’m Yuna. You know me first now, so that means I’ll be your favorite.” Taehyung grinned his little boxy grin as Yuna hurried inside behind her friends. When he stood back up, he heard a little girl go:

“Woah! That’s the biggest piece of paper I’ve ever seen!”

“Don’t shout, Ryujin.” You hummed, watching as the kids surrounded the paper that laid spread out between the desks.

“Are we painting, Teacher?!” Little Soobin asked as he looked up at Taehyung. Taehyung had pushed the tables back, and as you scanned the room, your eyes widened. Paint buckets of varying colors were set on each table. Smocks were laid out on one of the tables, tiny white ones that you hadn’t seen out of a closet in months. The kids stared at the paper.

“What does it say?” Ryujin asked, the kids looking up to see Taehyung as Seokjin approach.

“It says Welcome, Mr. Kim. Fighting!” Seokjin lifted his hands. “Can we all say that?” The kids shouted the phrase along with the principal as you approached Taehyung. Quickly, you spun him around to face you.

“Paint on the first day? Are you nuts?!”

“…No, why?”

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“Well, I’m an art teacher. So yeah.” He nodded. “Wouldn’t have gotten hired if I didn’t know what I was doing.” You scowled at him, but Taehyung simply turned back towards the kids. “Alright, ready everyone? I need you all to sit right where you are, okay?” The kids immediately did what they were told, eyes wandering around to the paint behind them. You could see the excitement in their eyes as Taehyung walked over. Seokjin put a hand on your shoulder.

“Go rest up. We’ll see you in 45 minutes.” He said. You blinked, looking at Hoseok, who was already standing behind Soobin and Kai, making sure he could see all of the kids. You nodded, heading out the door as Seokjin clapped his hands. “Okay, everyone. Can we all say hi to Mr. Kim? He’s our new art teacher!” A sea of kids said hello in perfect unison, and you closed the door behind you. You walked down the hallway, back into your oddly familiar classroom, and plopped yourself at your desk.

“Paint on the first day. Unbelievable.” You mumbled. “He’s trying to spite me. I just know it.” You groaned, running a hand along your face as you felt yet another headache coming on. However, you quickly sat upright and opened your folder, turning on your computer and turning on your computer and pulling up your lessons. “I can’t worry about him and his stupid classroom, I have lessons to finalize.” As you pulled up the first lesson, you sat in silence and got to work. It was a feeling you were used to, constantly working in silence as the kids ran around with Mr. Min or the days where they went to lunch with a lunch aid. The silence was normally a blessing for the teacher of preschoolers.

However, unlike those other times, you could faintly hear the kids down the hall shouting and chatting with one another. That sound made your silence only feel lonely and suffocating.

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years

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Here it is, @ilovemesomekillianjones , your birthday fic! I hope your day yesterday was amazing. I also hope you love your gift. It got way more angsty than I was anticipating, but I promise it has a happy ending and there’s enough fluff in there to soften the angst.

Summary: Emma Swan knocks on his door the morning after Christmas and continues to do so off and on well past the new year. Killian Jones knows, however, that he must tread lightly, so he never knocks on hers. Until one day in May . . . Although, technically, he doesn’t knock. Loosely inspired by the song of the same name by Counting Crows.

Rating: M

Trigger warning: referenced sexual assault because Eloise IS Alice’s mother in this, and it follows canon in how it happened; also there is a mild, brief scene of domestic violence - but it’s not as bad as it sounds! There are also cute kids, mommy!Emma and daddy!Killian, and a kitten. Yes, a literal kitten.

Words: almost 7,000 (yeah the angst fest got out of hand!)

Also on Ao3 and the final installment in my Fandom Birthday Playlist

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @welllpthisishappening @distant-rose @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @thislassishooked @thisonesatellite @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @jennjenn615 @branlovestowrite @shireness-says @hollyethecurious @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @profdanglaisstuff @winterbaby89 @scientificapricot

And it’s been a long December, and there’s reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last.

December

“Know what they never tell you about live Christmas trees?”

Emma Swan asks her neighbor Killian Jones this with flashing eyes and a slight scowl upon her face, yet there’s also a hint of vulnerability in the pink of her cheeks and the way she nibbles her bottom lip. She’s balancing her boy Henry on her hip, and the two year old is nuzzled into her neck with bleary eyes as he sucks his thumb. It’s only six in the morning the day after Christmas, and a knock at his door is already odd enough for Killian. A frazzled Emma Swan shooting him a random question when he opens said door is enough to short circuit his brain.

She moved into his building about two months ago, right next door, and every attempt Killian has made to innocently flirt with the woman has been met with barely restrained hostility. Hell, even his attempts at being neighborly has gotten him nothing more than an eyeroll. Yet, here she is.

“Umm, I’m not sure what you’re asking . . . “

How can he possibly be his normal, eloquent self? It’s six am the bloody day after Christmas and Emma Swan has knocked on his door.

“Taking it down,” Emma huffs, blowing a wayward strand of hair out of her face and adjusting her hold on Henry. “Does a Hallmark Christmas movie ever have a montage about taking a Christmas tree down? No, they don’t, because it’s depressing and irritating and when you’re done you’ve got a damn forest’s worth of pine needles on your floor.”

Killian can’t help the way his eyebrow hitches up or the half smile that tugs at his lips. “You took your tree down already? It’s only six in the morning the day after Christmas.”

“You don’t think I know that?” she snaps, and Henry lifts his head to scowl at his mother in an uncanny way before he resumes his thumb sucking and plops his head back down on her shoulder. “But I’ve got a twelve hour shift today, and I have to get Henry to the babysitter by six thirty, and the tree’s been a fire hazard for days now. So I thought I’d just go ahead and take it down. How long could it take? But now I’ve got a dead tree in the hallway, I haven’t got a damn clue what to do with it, and Henry and I haven’t even had breakfast yet!”

Emma shuffles her Croc-clad feet, her eyes flashing even more than before. Killian takes in her scrubs for the first time and frowns.

“You’ve got another shift already?”

Emma shrugs. “The ER can’t exactly close for the holidays.”

“That is true.”

“I’m just lucky I got yesterday with this little guy.” Killian’s heart warms as she presses her forehead to Henry’s. “This guy’s the reason I got a real tree in the first place. I just wanted him to have a perfect Christmas, you know?”

“I get that. I’d do just about anything for mine, too.”

“Oh shit,” Emma groans, “I forgot about your kid! Did I wake her up?”

Killian chuckles. “Don’t worry. Alice could sleep through a hurricane.”

Emma lowers her eyes, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. “I must look crazy to you, knocking on your door so early, rambling on about a dead tree.”

“Not at all,” Killian tells her cheerily. “I’m an early riser, first of all, and second, I will gladly dispose of your tree, Ms. Swan.”

Emma meets his gaze, a smile turning up her lips. “Ms. Swan? Aren’t you a gentleman.”

Though every attempt at flirting in the past has been soundly rebuffed, he can’t resist leaning closer to her and waggling his eyebrows. “I’m always a gentleman.”

This time, thankfully, she huffs out a tiny laugh. “And you’re sure about the tree?”

“It would be my pleasure,” he vows dramatically, pressing his hand to his heart. Emma’s eye roll in reply is for once endearing.

“Do you want me to . . . like . . . um, pay you back?”

Killian waves her off. “No, that isn’t necessary. You know that park a block east?” Emma nods her head. “They do an event every year where you can drop your tree off for free to be recycled.”

Emma lets out a long sigh of relief. “You really don’t mind? I mean, I could take it later. As long as the landlord doesn’t mind a dead tree in the hall . . . “

“Nonsense, Ms. Swan. You’ll be dead on your feet after your shift, and it will be something fun to do with Alice. She’s still on holiday from school until after New Years.”

“Oh, right, well . . . “ Emma begins to shuffle her feet again, and he can tell she isn’t used to asking for or receiving help. Little does she know how much he can relate.

“Have a lovely day, Ms. Swan,” he tells her gently, knowing she isn’t quite sure how to get out of this social exchange that probably took all of her nerve to initiate to begin with.

“You too,” she says softly before turning to go. Just as she reaches the stairwell, she looks over her shoulder at him. “And next time, it’s just Emma, ok? Every time you say Ms. I feel like a kindergarten teacher.”

Killian laughs. “Emma it is, love.”

Her cheeks are a lovely pink once again before she heads down the stairs, and he can’t deny a surge of pride that it’s now from his words rather than embarrassment. He contemplates leaving her tree in the hallway where it’s propped next to her door, but their landlord Leroy can be a bit of a curmudgeon, and the last thing he wants is Emma getting grief from the man. So he retrieves it, thinking there’s no reason he and Alice can’t dispose of their own tree while they’re at it. If the apartment will be littered with pine needles soon anyway, what are a few more?

Emma wasn’t kidding when she said it had been a fire hazard for days. When Killian picks the thing up, it reminds him of Charlie Brown’s tree. So many needles fall as he hoists it, that they make a soft tinkling sound on the worn hallway carpet. It’s incredibly light, a foot shorter than he is, and has sparse branches. It can’t have been much of a tree even when new, and it makes his heart break just a tiny bit

“You’ve had a tough December, haven’t you?”

Killian says it to the tree, but he’s thinking of Emma and Henry.

January

“Do you have a toolbox I can borrow?”

Emma Swan is soaked, her hair sticking to her cheeks and her long sleeved tee leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Killian forces his gaze to remain on her face, swallowing thickly. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, so he simply nods and rushes to retrieve his toolbox from underneath the kitchen sink. Before he hands it to her, his brow creases with concern.

“Can I help you with something, Swan?”

She scowls and grabs the handle of the toolbox, but he doesn’t let go.

“Nope, just the toolbox. And I told you - it’s Emma.”

“I didn’t say Ms.”

“You’re also not letting go of the damn toolbox,” she snaps while giving the box a tug.

He relinquishes it then, lifting his hand to scratch behind his ear. “I’m quite handy if you’re in a pinch,” he tells her, but she’s already rushing back to her own door.

“I can take care of myself,” she practically shouts before she slams her door shut.

Killian chuckles as he shakes his head fondly.

“Who was that, Papa?” Alice asks from her spot at the kitchen table where she’s eating her morning oatmeal.

“An amazing woman, starfish, who lives next door.”

He never does get his toolbox back.

February

“Did you write this?”

Emma Swan is standing in his doorway holding up a book that she’s clearly checked out from the library, judging by the plastic covering and the stickers on the binding. Killian smiles fondly at the title: Tilly Joins a Pirate Crew.

“Aye, guilty as charged.”

“It’s really good,” she tells him with a genuine smile. “Henry loved it. I wish I could get you to sign it, but it’s from the library.”

“Don’t apologize. Writers are huge fans of libraries.”

Emma smiles a bit shyly, then turns the book in her hands. “It’s a series I noticed. How many are there? Henry was pointing at all these other ones shown on the back cover.” Her gaze turns soft as she imitates her two year old. “Dis one, dis one, dis one - that’s what he said. Which is two year old speak for I want to read these, too.”

“Um, yes,” Killian tells her, leaning closer to see her copy, “this shows the first three, then there’s this one, but there’s also Tilly Goes to the Moon and Tilly on Safari.”

He looks up to see Emma’s gaze on him instead of the book in her hands. She’s closer than he realized, and he can see the flecks of gold in her light green eyes.

“And your bio says you write books for adults too?”

Killian gives a wry laugh as he pulls back to put space between them. “I used to, but Alice is my only muse these days.”

Emma nods, grinning broadly, “I thought Tilly might be based on your daughter. Henry will be ecstatic the next time we run into you in the lobby when I tell him she’s the real Tilly.”

“I wouldn’t do that actually,” Killian tells her in a low voice, leaning closer once again. “My lass will adamantly inform you that she is Alice Jones, thank you very much.”

“Of course she will.” Emma’s gaze darts from his eyes to his lips. Then again, that may be just wishful thinking.

“I can get you some autographed copies if you’d like.”

“Oh, but I couldn’t -”

“Free of charge, of course.”

Emma hugs the book to her chest, and he can see her mental battle play across her face.

“For Henry?” Killian adds, and it’s the thought of her son that causes her to yield.

“Okay. I suppose that would be alright.” She lifts a hand to tuck a stray hair behind her ear and shuffles her feet. He’s come to learn that it’s a nervous habit. “Goodbye, Killian.”

“Goodbye, Emma.”

One of these days he’ll invite her in - once she no longer seems to dash from his door like a startled bird.

March

“So how many hats has Alice gone through this winter?”

Emma Swan’s voice trails off at the end, the smile vanishing from her face when she sees Eloise standing there. Killian has never been so happy to see his Swan. He practically shoves Eloise aside to get to Emma, clearing his voice loudly.

“Swan! So lovely to see you. Eloise was just leaving.” He looks pointedly at the woman.

“Yes, I suppose I’ve said all that needs to be said.”

She looks at him coldly, and he tries not to shudder. His body deflates as soon as he can no longer see her in the stairwell. He turns to Emma with a wobbly smile. She’s standing there looking confused, twisting a wool hat in her hands. It looks familiar, and Killian realizes its Alice’s. The one they couldn’t find when she left for school this morning.

“Could you . . . would you like to come in? I just made a pot of fresh coffee.”

“Sure,” Emma says, giving her head a small shake, “I have a few minutes. I found Alice’s hat on the walk outside and thought I’d run home on my break to give it to you. The temperature is supposed to drop later this afternoon.”

“That was thoughtful,” Killian says, “but you didn’t have to do that.”

Emma waves off his concern. “The hospital is only two blocks, and I wanted to enjoy a walk before the weather changes. I am so ready for spring.”

“Aren’t we all?” They both fall silent as he pours the coffee and sets out the cream and sugar. He notes how she does her coffee - sweet enough to cause a toothache. He doesn’t know why, but he files the information away.

“Three,” he tells her over the rim of his mug.

Emma cocks her head. “Pardon?”

“The answer to your question when Eloise opened the door,” he tells her, setting his mug back down. “That is the third hat I have had to buy for Alice this winter. She lost the first two I bought her.”

“I’ve got you beat then,” Emma counters smugly. “Henry is on his fifth hat.”

Killian whistles in sympathy and then chuckles. They fall silent again, but he knows the question that is coming when Emma begins to stare plaintively into her coffee.

“So, Eloise . . . “

“Alice’s mother.”

“Oh.”

Killian knows he should probably elaborate, but just Eloise being here has already made

him feel completely unsteady. He refuses to have a full blown panic attack in front of Emma. She doesn’t press him for more information, however, and they fall silent once again.

“The Pirate Politico Series,” Emma blurts out.

Killian raises one eyebrow. “Seems we’re playing some sort of word association game today.”

“The thriller series you wrote. You were a bestselling author of political thrillers.” She gestures around his modest apartment. “What are you doing living here?”

He follows her gaze around the small space, the open concept kitchen/living combo with he and Alice’s art supplies crammed in the corner, the two doors side by side that lead into their miniscule bedrooms, and on the other side, the bathroom he shares with Alice. It’s so small he’s knocked his shins on the tub more than once while trying to trim his beard or brush his teeth.

“Well,” he sighs, running a hand wearily over his face, “let’s just say I’d do anything for my daughter.”

“Meaning?” Emma presses gently before taking a sip of her coffee.

He can tell by her expression that she isn’t trying to pry, so he lets out a long breath and decides to give her part of the truth.

“That fine arts academy she goes to isn’t cheap, even the tuition for first grade, and you know as well as I what real estate costs here in the city. But my Alice is immensely talented, and I will cultivate that and encourage it no matter what it costs.”

Emma nods, a knowing smile upon her lips. “You’re preaching to the choir, Jones.”

She doesn’t get to stay long, but he cherishes every word, every glance, every blush when he innocently flirts with her. When she rises from the table and heads to the door, she turns nervously before she reaches for the doorknob. “Um, I also wanted to ask . . . or, Henry wanted to ask, if you and Alice would like to come to his birthday party this Friday night. It’s nothing much. We’re just getting together at that pizza place next door. Around six? It’ll be us, Henry’s babysitter Mary Margaret, her husband, and their little boy Leo. Leo’s in kindergarten, close to Alice’s age, so -”

“We’d love to, Swan,” Killian interrupts her with a gentle voice and an easy smile.

She lets out a breath, and he can’t believe she was so nervous offering such a sweet and innocent invitation. He wonders as he has so many times who wounded her so deeply.

“That’s great. I’m so glad - er, or that is, Henry will be so glad.”

“So will Alice,” he tells her softly.

She rewards him with a pretty blush before she closes the door behind her.

April

“Have you seen Henry? Is he here?”

Emma’s words combined with the terror in her voice and the paleness of her skin makes Killian’s heart plummet.

“No! Alice, have you seen Henry?”

She shakes her head no as she abandons the painting she was working on to race to the door. “Is Henry okay?”

“I don’t know!” Emma cries out, racing towards the stairs. Killian and Alice are right on her heels. “I collapsed after my shift, but Henry was napping too, right next to me. I woke up, and he was gone! Then I saw that I forgot to lock the door!”

“He’s only three, Swan, he can’t have gotten far.”

Killian reaches out to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze, but she barely notices. The three of them race down the three flights, calling Henry’s name. When they reach the lobby, they check behind the potted plants and the trash cans, but still no Henry. They burst outside, still calling his name, though Henry’s nowhere to be seen on the sidewalk. Emma races out into the street, angry drivers laying on their horns and swearing in her wake. Killian pulls her back to the curb, but her fists fly out, landing on his chest. A hysterical choking sound escapes her lips, but no tears come - not yet.

“I have to -”

Emma’s shout is interrupted by Alice’s voice. “He’s over here!”

The adults whirl around to see Alice by the apartment steps. They race to her, and there is Henry crouched in the open space beneath them. A tiny ball of black and white fur is curled in his lap. Emma’s tears come then as she scoops the lad up, showering his face with kisses and clutching him to her chest.

“Henry, oh God, oh God. You scared me to death! Never, ever do that again!”

She sets Henry down on the bottom step and kneels in front of him, her hands skimming over his small frame as if checking to see if he’s in one piece. Henry seems completely oblivious to his mother’s turmoil, grinning up at her as he lifts the tiny animal he’s discovered. It’s a kitten, scrawny and mewling softly. It’s mostly white with black patches, one around its right eye.

“Look what I found, Mommy!”

Emma’s trembling, her face wet with tears, and Killian can tell the words just won’t come. He kneels down next to her and reaches out for the kitten.

“Well, would you look at that,” he says, smiling at Henry.

“It’s super skinny,” Alice comments worriedly.

“Nothing a little tuna can’t fix,” Killian assures the children, “and I think we have a can upstairs.”

“Good,” Alice says with a wrinkle of her nose, “then you won’t make me eat it.”

The four of them head back inside, but at the top of the first flight of stairs, Emma grasps his arm.

“Henry can’t keep that kitten,” she whispers. “My shifts are way too long to take care of it.”

“But I work at home,” Killian points out, “and Henry can come over and play with it any time he likes.”

Emma’s brow furrows. “But that’s a lot of work and money. You’d have to get a litter box, and clean up after it, and -”

“And Alice and I will enjoy it. She’s been pestering me for a pet anyway. Everybody wins.” He raises a finger and presses it lightly to Emma’s nose. “And don’t say a word about giving me money, Emma. That’s not how things work between friends.”

Emma’s shoulders finally relax, though he can still see tension in her face, and both of her hands are clenched into fists. He knows it isn’t about the cat anyway, so he gives her space and quiet while he, Henry, and Alice feed the kitten. Emma slowly lowers herself into one of his kitchen chairs, and Killian notices that she’s trembling slightly.

“You know what?” he announces brightly to the kids. “I think what this kitten needs next is some green grass and fresh air. How about we take him to the park?”

“How do we know it’s a him?” Alice asks.

“Hmmm . . . “ Killian replies, lifting the kitten and turning it belly up. “Aye, definitely a boy.”

“But how could you tell?” Alice presses.

He colors slightly because Emma’s there, but he’s always tried to answer Alice’s questions honestly. He gives her a brief explanation of cat anatomy, hoping Emma doesn’t mind her three year old listening in.

“Oh, he has a wee wee like me!” Henry proclaims, and behind them Emma bursts out laughing.

“I’m glad this is so amusing to you, Swan.” He smiles, however, relieved to hear her laugh.

Emma shrugs. “I’ve just never seen your face so red.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Tremendously.”

They head to the park, and Emma seems more and more relaxed as they walk. They sink onto a bench side by side as Alice and Henry race to the playground equipment. The kitten is cradled in Henry’s arms, and when they reach the mulch covered play area, they set it down. The kitten takes a few tentative steps on the strange surface, but it’s only a few minutes before he’s racing around, the kids squealing and laughing at his antics.

The two of them sit quietly watching the children and the kitten. Finally, Killian looks over at Emma and says softly, “Every parent freaks out when they can’t find their child.”

“You’ve lost Alice before?”

“Aye. We were at the market. I swear I only took my eyes off her for a second, and she was gone. Well, not gone. She’d wandered over to the bakery to admire the cupcakes. Never even knew we got separated.” He chuckles now at the memory.

“How old was she?”

“Four. It felt like it took me forever to find her, but it was probably only a few minutes.”

Emma nods then lifts trembling hands to her face. “I was so afraid.”

Killian knows, somehow, there’s more going on here. “Afraid of what, love?” he asks her gently.

“Nothing.”

He doesn’t press it, and they fall silent again watching the children. They’re taking turns going down the slide with the kitten in their laps. He ponders for a minute if the kitten’s being tortured, but then decides its okay as long as they’re holding it and not sending the poor thing down by itself.

“Emma,” he finally gathers the courage to say, “I didn’t tell you the whole truth. About why Alice and I live in this neighborhood.”

Emma’s gaze snaps to his, and she narrows her eyes.

“I mean,” he clarifies, “it’s partially true. But honestly, my royalty checks from Pirate Politico alone could get us a better place. The Adventures with Tilly books are doing pretty well too, actually . . . “ he trails off. He hadn’t meant to brag about his success. He’s stalling, that’s what he’s doing. “Is this about Alice’s mother?”

He nods, blessing Emma internally for helping him out. She reaches over and rests her hand on his knee.

“She demanded a lot of money when you split?”

Killian clenches his jaw. “We were never a couple.”

He glances at Emma, but she isn’t looking at him with either scorn or pity. “A one night stand isn’t something you have to hide from me, Killian.”

He stares down at his hands. “It wasn’t that either . . . not exactly. She’d call it that, but . . . “

Emma’s hand slips from his knee to close over his fists. “Killian, you don’t have to explain.”

When he speaks, it’s scarcely above a whisper. “I want to. The only other person I’ve told is Belle, and that’s because she practically pried it out of me. She’s my brother’s widow, you see, and I . . . “ he takes in a long, shaky breath, then releases it slowly.

He leans back against the bench, watching the children play to remind himself that some things in life are still pure. Emma eases one of his hands open from the fist he’s made and laces her fingers with his. Killian stares at their intertwined fingers, and the words begin to pour out.

“It was right after my Milah passed. She was . . . everything to me. The love of my life. I was in a dark place after she was gone, but I had one last book to complete in the Pirate Politico series. My muse died right along with Milah, though, and so I was struggling. The publishers assigned me a new editor, thinking that would somehow make a difference. It was Eloise.”

As if she can sense how difficult this is, Emma squeezes his hand gently. He manages a tiny glance her way, then stares down at their hands again, running his thumb over her knuckles.

“Eloise made sexual advances regularly, even after I told her I wasn’t interested. Even after I told her it made me feel uncomfortable. Some of them even had thinly veiled threats attached, implying it would be beneficial to my career to accept her. It made no difference to me. My desire to write seemed long gone, anyway. It got to the point that I would only have contact with her online or over the phone.” Killian pauses and rubs a hand wearily over his face before he can continue. “The publishing company had a Christmas party every year. They put immense pressure on me to come that year. I had finally, somehow, finished the damn thriller, and they needed me to rub shoulders and help promote it. I remember arriving at the party, vaguely, and I remember sitting down at the bar . . . “

Killian is embarrassed when he feels as if his chest is constricting, and he struggles to take a breath. Emma rubs at his bicep with one hand, her other still clinging to his.

“You don’t have to tell me the rest.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve gotten this far. May as well get to the bitter end.” He attempts a self-deprecating chuckle, but it falls flat. “Anyway, Eloise sat down beside me at the bar. I . . . I really don’t remember anything after that. I could always hold my liquor, so I wonder . . . Anyways, next thing I know I’m waking up in her apartment in her bed. I was sick and mortified. Getting out of there is a blur.”

“Killian,” she says softly, “that’s awful. It’s . . . it’s evil. You could have gone to the police.”

Killian laughs bitterly. “And you think they would have believed me? You think they would have charged her? No, Swan.”

“But stuff like this is finally coming out, people are talking about it now. With #metoo and everything, people should know that men can be -”

“Swan, don’t say, it please. I’ve never been able to say the word out loud. Maybe I should, but -”

“No, I’m sorry,” Emma quickly tells him, “this is your story to tell. I just wanted you to know that . . . I’m . . . on your side?”

She gives him a half shrug and an apologetic look. He’s finally able to hold her gaze, knowing despite her lack of words what she’s attempting to convey. After a moment, he looks away from her, his eyes landing on Alice.

“When she showed up at my door nine months later with Alice in her arms, I knew. The moment I held her, I knew she was mine. My lawyers insisted on a paternity test, but it only confirmed what was deep in my heart.” Killian looks intently in Emma’s eyes. “Eloise never wanted to be a mother. She never wanted Alice. She only wanted -”

“Your money,” Emma finishes for him.

Killian nods, and he suddenly feels spent, exhausted. There’s more he could tell, he supposes, but he simply no longer has the energy.

“Was that why she was here back in March? To ask for more money?”

“Anything to keep her satisfied and away from Alice. I have never invited her to the apartment, though. That day, she just showed up.” He liftsEmma’s hand to his lips and brushes a kiss against her knuckles. “I was so relieved when you showed up.”

“God, Killian, I’m so sorry. You must have been terrified. I noticed you weren’t yourself that day.”

“Until my guardian angel showed up,” he tells her with a wink.

Emma rolls her eyes and laughs. It lifts the heaviness that his tale had invoked, and they both relax against the bench. Emma doesn’t release his hand, though, and it feels natural to sit here this way. After a few moments, Emma speaks without looking at him.

“Henry’s dad never wanted him, either. When I told him I was pregnant, he wanted me to get an abortion. When I said I wouldn’t, he assumed I’d give Henry up for adoption. We had a huge fight when I told Neal I was keeping him.”

“Did he hit you?”

Emma shakes her head. “No, but I’d never seen him like that. He was literally shaking with rage, but when he saw me packing my bags, he turned back into the guy I fell in love with. He begged me to stay, said we’d make it work, and like a fool I believed him.”

“You are not a fool, Emma Swan. You are bloody brilliant.”

Emma’s smile is bright. “Thanks. It was a mistake to stay, though, I see that now. After Henry was born, Neal wanted nothing to do with him. Everything - midnight feedings, diapers, baths, it all fell to me. Henry was colicky, too, and there were times that Neal would scream at me to shut him up. Again, he never hit either of us, but I was in a constant state of anxiety wondering when he would blow up at me next. I couldn’t do anything right, either. I was stupid, naive, a bitch. He called me all sorts of names.”

Killian’s jaw clenches so hard he fears he might break a tooth. Whoever this man is, he’s the idiot for not adoring Emma and Henry. A single tear tracks down Emma’s face and Killian can’t resist reaching out to wipe it away. She gives him a tremulous smile before resuming her story.

“The last straw was last October. It was the worst fight we’d ever had, and Neal was drinking. He threw a tumbler of whisky across the room, and it shattered on the wall right above Henry’s high chair. Henry started screaming, of course, and Neal stalked out. The last thing he said to me was that brat better shut it before I get back, or I’ll make you regret it. I packed Henry and I up as fast as I could and got out of there.”

“That’s why you had so few boxes when you moved in.”

Emma nods. “I didn’t even leave a note. I just left.”

“Are you afraid he’ll find you? Is that why you were so terrified when we couldn’t find Henry?”

All Emma can do is whisper, “yes” as more tears slip down her cheeks. She dashes at them angrily. “I don’t think he will. He told me a thousand times that he never wanted to be a father. He was probably relieved to find us gone, but I still worry. I still feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Killian can’t think of a thing to say, so he simply puts his arm around her and pulls her close. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, and she sighs against his shoulder. He rests his chin atop her head as they silently watch the kids.

The sun is getting low in the sky when the children run over to them. Alice has the kitten cradled in her arms.

“Look, Papa, he fell asleep!”

Emma and Killian lean over and smile fondly at the adorable little ball of fur. Sure enough, it’s tiny eyes are closed and its body rises and falls with even breaths.

“He needs a proper name,” Killian comments.

“Oh, we already named him,” Alice says,

“Checkers!” squeals Henry.

“Oh, I see,” Emma says, gathering Henry onto her lap, “because he’s white and black.”

“I said chess has a board like that too,” Alice pipes up, tilting her chin as if she’s so much wiser than Henry, “but it’s Henry’s kitten.”

“Well,” Killian says to his daughter with a twinkle in his eyes, “that was certainly kind of you, starfish.”

“I know,” she says.

Killian looks over at Emma and thinks how beautiful she is in the waning light. They’ve shared their deepest traumas and their deepest fears, both revolving around the children they both love more than life itself. She’s released his hand to hold Henry, but her fingers still brush his where they rest on the bench.

And they share a kitten. Maybe he’ll be knocking on Emma’s door sooner than he hoped.

May

“When are you going to ask Emma to go on a date?”

Killian almost chokes on his oatmeal at his daughter’s question. “What in the world,” he coughs, “made you think of that?”

Alice shrugs as she scoops a giant spoonful of marmalade out of the jar and plops it onto her toast. “Cuz you like her.”

“Not so much marmalade, starfish,” he admonishes in auto-dad mode, “and of course I like Emma. She’s my friend just like you’re Henry’s friend.”

“Uh-uh,” Alice argues, shaking her head. “It’s not the same kind of like. You look at Emma like this -”

Alice widens her eyes, creases her forehead, and lets her jaw drop open. Killian can’t help but laugh.

“I do not look like that!”

“Okay like this, then -”

Now Alice clenches her jaw in an uncanny imitation of her Papa, her eyes blinking and sad. Killian guffaws even louder, tears coming to his eyes. God, he loves this little girl.

“Maybe you should try out for the next school play.”

“I might,” she says brightly before taking a huge bite of her marmalade toast. With her mouth full, she says, “There’s a summer acting camp, and I -”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, starfish.”

She dutifully swallows, then continues, “I think I wanna do it. Matilda the Musical is the -”

A loud crash comes from next door, followed by loud shouting and a scream. Alice looks at her father with wide, frightened eyes.

“What’s that Papa?”

There’s another crash, another scream, and Killian jumps up from his chair. He ushers Alice quickly to her room and presses his cell phone into her palm.

“Lock yourself in your room, Alice, and call 911.”

“Yes, Papa,” she tells him, even as tears gather in her eyes.

Killian presses a kiss to her cheek before he runs from their apartment. He doesn’t even pause at Emma’s door. It isn’t locked, so he barrels inside. A man he’s never seen before has Emma by the arm, shaking her, and before Killian has time to reach them, the man shoves Emma to the floor. She cries out as her elbow collides with the coffee table.

“Hey!” Killian yells. “Get away from her!”

The man - Neal, Killian assumes - only glances over his shoulder. “This is none of your business” he snarls.

Neal reaches for Emma again, but Killian intercepts him. He grasps Emma’s ex by the front of his shirt and shoves him against the wall.

“It is my business,” he growls. “You are never to even come near her again.”

“You fucking this guy, Ems?” Neal laughs.

Killian doesn’t hesitate - he pulls his fist back and punches Neal in the face. The man

howls and doubles over, holding his bleeding nose.

“Shit, man! You can have her.”

Killian yanks him up by the back of his shirt. “My daughter called the cops, so if you want to stick around and explain all this to them, be my guest.”

Neal’s eyes widen at that, and he runs from Emma’s apartment with grumbled curses. Killian could care less about the man, however, as he rushes to Emma’s side. He helps her up and gets her settled on the couch.

“Are you okay?”

Emma presses her lips together, her face pale, but she nods her head. “Yeah, I think so.” She’s cradling her arm against herself, and she winces when she tries to move it. “Did you really call the cops?”

“Well, I told Alice to call 911 when we heard you screaming. I’m sorry if I -”

Emma raises her uninjured arm to stop his flow of words. “No, Killian, I would have done the same. Am I embarrassed? Hell yeah, and now I’ve gotta explain this to the police.” She bites at her lower lip. “But that isn’t your fault.”

“What happened?”

“He showed up at the hospital, and I could tell he was pissed. I didn’t want him causing a scene, and I was about to get off my shift anyway, so I brought him here. I called Mary Margaret to ask if Henry could stay a little later this morning.”

Emma closes her eyes, and Killian gently put his arm around her.

“I was telling you the truth, Killian, when I said he never hit me. Today was the first time he ever did that. He wanted to know why I left him. Said I humiliated him, made him look like a fool.”

“I don’t think he needs any help in that department.”

Emma is able to snort out a tiny laugh at that, but it’s followed by another wince.

“You need to get that arm looked at too, love.”

Emma turns to him, her gaze soft and warm. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

His lips curl into a smirk. “Well, you rebuffed my heroics when your pipes burst. I had to prove my chivalry somehow. Not that I don’t think you can -”

His words are cut off when Emma presses her lips to his. It’s quick and chaste, and when she pulls back, she’s the one smirking. “Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?”

He raises one eyebrow. “I beg to differ, Swan, for every time I’ve opened my door, your standing there talking a mile a minute. Peppering me with questions completely-”

She cuts him off again with her lips, this time more aggressively, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. He responds in kind, threading his fingers through her hair and swiping his tongue across the seam of her lips. She opens for him willingly, and he feels the kiss like fire rushing through his veins. He hasn’t felt his way in far too long. When they part, they rest their foreheads against one another and breathe in each other’s ragged breaths.

“The police,” is the first thing Emma says.

Killian’s brow furrows. “That’s . . . um . . . “

“Another word association game?”

They both laugh at the shared joke. Emma strokes his cheek with her hand. “Alice called 911, and I don’t want the police thinking it was about you.”

“Right,” he says, shifting away from her and scratching behind his ear.

“This isn’t the way I imagined it, you know.”

“Imagined what?”

“Your first time in my apartment.”

“Aye,” he teases, “I always imagined knocking.”

The Following December

“Know what they never tell you about live Christmas trees?”

Killian twists his head up to see Emma. He’s been wrestling with the stupid tree stand, and Emma’s smirking down at him when she’s supposed to holding the top of the tree to keep it steady.

“That it’s a bloody chore getting them into the stand?”

“No,” Emma replies cheekily, “they never tell you how hot your boyfriend will look with his butt sticking out of the bottom.”

Across the room, Alice doubles over to fake vomit. “Ugh, I’m gonna need counseling!”

“Those acting classes are really paying off aren’t they?” Killian quips. He stands, satisfied that the tree is secure, and brushes needles and bits of bark off his hands.

“Can I put the star up, Daddy?” Henry asks, reaching up with the gold tree topper in his chubby hands. He started calling Killian that a few months ago, and neither he nor Emma had the heart to stop him.

“Sure, lad,” Killian says, sweeping him up in his arms. He holds the boy steady as he sticks the star on the tip top of the tree. Emma and Alice cheer and clap, to Henry’s delight. Killian adjusts the boy in his arms as he steps back to brush a kiss first to Alice’s forehead and then to Emma’s lips.

Killian thinks about the ring in its velvet box, already wrapped in silver paper in his sock drawer. Yes, Henry can go ahead and call him “Daddy” because soon, it will be official.

It’s been a long December, and there’s reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last.

#cs ff #cs modern au #angst #fluff and angst #angst with a happy ending #cs single parent ff #knightrook #fandom birthday playlist #for ilovemesomekillianjones #for her birthday

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ladymelissaduthe · 4 years

Text

Challenge #2

aka The Fic Where Arin Gets Stuck With Missy In An Inescapable Location (voluntarily) and it goes bad

a/n: just had to churn this fic out BHJNJSDBJD and all I can say is... Missy sweetie, I’m sorry. Thank you Anna @arin-schreave for this monster of an RP,,, it be spicy JSDKNDJKDN AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA #arinschreaveisoverparty and the other thing I’d like to say is watch out for the next fic ;))))))) (5968 words)

I didn’t know this was going to be the worst first date I’ve ever had.

A note was sent to my room sometime in the afternoon while I was out for a walk in the greenhouse again.

It was a note asking me to meet Arin Schreave at the docks by noon the next day.

It was my first date with Arin Schreave.

I didn’t sleep at all that night, whatever feelings started clouding my head refused to go away, even at the dead of night.

Still, I was determined to show up at the docks, early, give my best smile and hopefully have a nice first date.

From the note, I guessed we were gonna go on a boat for this one. Why else would Arin ask me to meet him at the dock? So I dressed in one of my nicer beach dresses, the kind you save for the nice kind of beach side weddings.

It wasn’t difficult to find the docks, having just asked my maids and a few guards along the way if I was taking the right path down from the palace. It was a good fifteen minute walk to really prepare myself for it, or whatever awaited me at the dock.

Apparently what awaited me was a boat and Arin Schreave on the said boat with a couple of baskets in his hands. We were going on a boat.

I wave my hand, still too far to be heard, but I pick up the pace and get there with a smile. The sound of the water growing as I approached.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Schreave.”

Arin turns around and nods to me, “Good afternoon, Melissa.”

I watch as he gets off the boat and walks over to the dock, and holds his hand out to me. “I hope you’re alright with boats and water.”

“Well, if it’s between you and me, I don’t actually know how to swim.” I reply, pretty sure that I should tell him that first. Just in case. Nonetheless, I had a swimsuit in my bag just in case there were any plans to do anything close to the water.

I give him a smile, trying to make light of my lack of swimming skills. “but it’s not the first time I’ve been on a boat so I wouldn’t worry about it.” I let myself laugh just a little before taking Arin’s hand to get onto the boat. “How are you today?”

“I’m alright, it’s nice to get our of the palace.” Arin replies before letting go of my hand once I’m on the boat.

“That’s good to hear.” I look around the boat. It was one of those small yachts, more than just a boat. I look around, seeing a small kitchenette that lead to where the controls must have been. My eyes go back to Arin. He walks over to one of the deck’s seats and lifts up the cushion and taking out a bright yellow life vest and walks back to hold it out to me.

“Safety first.”

I take the vest, and slip it on. “I have to say though, the vest doesn’t quite match my outfit.” Laughing to myself just a little as I glance over to my reflection on a nearby window. It would have to do for now.

“Yes well, if you fall overboard I don’t think anyone would be concerned about you were wearing.” He says before motioning for me to come into the covered part of the boat.

“May I ask?” I turn back to Arin, “Do you usually get to do this kind of stuff? Get out of the palace, I mean.”

Arin turns to me from where he walked over to, looking like he was ready to pick up a glass.

“I’m sure if I really wanted to I could but recently I haven’t had the time. That being said, I wouldn’t mind more non work related outings.”

“Fair point,” I nod before following him over to the kitchen portion of the boat, “Glad to hear that you don’t actually think of this as a work-related outing. Anything I can help with?”

“Technically I guess it is.” He says before holding up an empty glass and wiggles it in the air for emphasis. “I’ve got it all under control. What can I get you to drink?”

I look at the glass for a moment, considering what I wanted. Did he mean… like a drink… or like… a drink-drink? I settle on the former.

“Would you consider me lame if I asked for water?” I feel a little sheepish asking for that, despite being surrounded by tons of it.

Arin gives me a confused look, “Why do you ask?” he bends down to pull a water pitcher from the fridge and filling the glass, holding it out to me.

“Thank you.” I blink, taking the glass from him. “It’s nothing. I just… usually get violent reactions about… always asking for water.”

I roll my eyes at an old memory, someone always insisting that I’d probably like other drinks if I didn’t just keep on drinking water all the time. Come on Missy, don’t you drink anything else?

“Well…” Arin trails off before walking up to the helm of the ship to grab a glass, quickly returning with a glass half full of water. “I did say safety first and I meant it.” He raises an eyebrow at me.

I take a sip from my own water, and raise my eyebrow back at him.

“Didn’t quite expect safety first to mean that.” I say before shaking my head with a small laugh.

“What did you think I meant?” he takes a sip as well, giving me a curious look.

I gesture to the bright yellow life vest, the one that was complete tacky with my dress, clearing my throat. “This?” I let another a laugh out before looking over to the water.

“Is this boat headed anywhere in particular?” I hold my glass to my lips.

Arin nods. “Everyone has to be safe aboard L’etoile de mer. Those are the rules.” He sets his glass down on the counter. “We can go anywhere you like.”

L’etoile de mer. I think I knew what it meant.

I furrow my brows, “This boat is called The Starfish?”

He nods, “Yeah, it is.”

I think I catch him smile slightly at that.

Well… this was going pretty smoothly.

“Sounds a little different from how they say it back in Orleans.” I muse, while looking over to him. There was a local restaurant with the same exact name, Starfish themed decorations all over the walls. “El-toiLe day Mare.” I say it, emphasizing how we pronounced it over in Orleans.

“You speak French?” He raises his eyebrows when I say it.

“Conversational Louisiana French,” I bobble my head, smiling to him. “Kind of the broken more localized version of it back in Orleans. Didn’t quite put it in my application since I thought y’all were gonna quiz me on it or something.”

Couldn’t quite say that I was fluent in it, because I didn’t quite know how to write it. More like phrases and expressions passed down generations of natives of Orleans. Not the fancy un deux trois they’d teach you in schools.

I laugh to myself at that thought, looking back to Arin.

“Oh,” his face turns into a slight frown, “Honestly? I didn’t actually read through any of the applications.” He tenses at the end of that sentence.

I instinctively raise a brow, “So you didn’t really know anything about me when we met?” I add a smile, making sure to let him know I wouldn’t feel offended if he said that.

“Nothing. Why? Should I go back and read it?” he crosses his arms.

So he didn’t know… much other than my name… Well, this was a good opportunity to introduce myself again.

“No need to, I can summarize it myself.” I clear my throat and straighten my back.

“Hi, I'm Melissa, Missy for short. I'm 20, I plan and coordinate weddings for a living in Orleans. I only read and write in one language and that's English.” I try to wrack my brain for anything else I placed in that old application I filled out more than a month ago. “Huh, I think that’s everything on the form.”

A part of me thanks whoever made that form for not including past relationships.

Arin nods, “Well, I’m afraid I don’t have any application to summarize for you. But I’m sure Joogle would tell you all the same stuff and more.”

Come on, Arin… I was throwing you a bone to talk about yourself. I always thought I was good at conversing with other people, and well, this was an easy way to get to know other people.

“Joogle talks about facts, not exactly what a person is like when you’re face to face with ‘em.” I sip from my water, sending him a curious look.

“Facts are important.” He gives me a pointed look. “Facts tell you the truth without caring about people’s feelings. I’m sure Joogle could give you much more straight answers about me than I ever could.”

Is.. he not used to talking about himself?

“Alright,” I look to him, still feeling a little hurt at that pointed look. “I guess I can Joogle something like, ‘what are things that make Arin Schreave smile?’”

Maybe I used the wrong tone for that. It was a joke to get him to lighten up a little bit.

Instead, I got the opposite.

“And unfortunately for you, you’d find out I’m too serious for my own good and I don’t know how to have a good time.” He stares back at me for a moment. Then he picks up his water, downing his water and setting it down with a clink.

I set my glass down.

That was… cold. My Grammy told me, if someone seemed like there was a thorn in their sides, it was always better to ask if they were doing alright. No matter what, trust your gut when it seems like something was wrong with someone. Ask them if they were alright.

It seemed like there was something worry about at what he said. Maybe… he was feeling stressed over something. What could possibly go wrong when you ask someone if they are alright?

“Arin…” my brows furrow, “Do you need to get something off your chest? Someone to talk to?”

I think I made a mistake asking him that.

All he did was let out a sardonic chuckle.

“Missy, all I need right now is for us to get this date over with. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Missy, all I need right now is for us to get this date over with. I don’t need a babysitter.

I suck in a breath. Jeez, that hurt. Even on a boat and in a life vest, there was a sinking feeling in my chest, and I couldn’t stop my hands from wringing each other.

“At least you’re really straightforward.” I reply, wanting to say more. I wanted to tell him… something, but I didn’t know what to say.

Get this date over… so he didn’t want to be here…

So much for making a great impression during our first date. So much for actually having a chance of staying.

“Thank you for being honest.” I think I started feeling a lump form in my throat.

Arin shrugs then steps away from the counter.

“We should get going.”

He watches me for a moment before turning and walking to the helm, out of my sight for now.

I try to take another breath, trying to wish that dreadful feeling from my chest and throat. This sinking feeling. This lump in my throat. I reach up to swipe at my eyes, getting rid of the tears starting to form there. No one likes people who cry.

Come on, not all hope is lost.

Jackson told me that Arin was kind, this was just a bump in the road. A misunderstanding.

I take another moment to breathe, to regain my composure, making sure not to feel bad for myself, or at what he said before following him to the helm.

He was going around, turning switches on, the motor of the boat coming to life. It took another moment before he glances over to me.

“I need to cast us off.”

I try to move out of his way when he passes by me to get to the other end of the boat to do… whatever casting us off meant.

If he just wanted to get this over with… did he still want to talk?

Asking him if he was alright was off the table, or maybe personal questions in general.

I try to think up of a plan to get him to still talk to me, maybe it just takes some time for him to warm up to people.

I’m left to think about it for a long time, just watching him work around the boat. Pulling and tying up ropes, and carrying what he called buoys to other places on the boat. Not once talking to me… he was just busy with the boat. I tell myself.

But I hated it when I felt like someone was upset and I couldn’t talk to them. So when it seemed like he wasn’t busy steering/driving the boat in the captain’s seat, I tried to make another attempt to talk to him.

“Do you uh… boat often?” I ask, my left hand still fiddling with my ring.

Arin glances between me and the water, continuing to drive.

“Not really anymore. But when I was a kid we used to do this all the time.”

“You and the entire royal family?” I lift a brow at him. I should stop fiddling with my ring.

“Mostly us kids, my mom, and my grandpa.”

I try to talk to him more about it, trying to get him to talk about his family some more but… that conversation went nowhere. Literally nowhere, his attention seeming more focused on steering the boat, or pushing one of the levers that made the boat move faster.

Without meaning to, my hand grabbed the edge of his seat to steady myself. “Whoa there,” I stop myself from laughing, this was getting ridiculous, and I didn’t know what to do to actually keep this going.

Arin glances up at me, and takes a breath. “Sorry, I can go slower.”

“Thank you,” I let go of the seat, and fixing my footing so I wouldn’t topple over at the boat’s movement. “There should be more seat belts ‘round here.”

I suddenly felt the boat slow down, Arin looking over to me in confusion.

“Seatbelts?”

“I mean, what if… the boat was going really fast and suddenly stopped? Whoever was in the boat could be… thrown forwards. Just a thought really, when you said ‘safety first’.” I shake my head, dismissing the idea in my head. “It’s nothing. Just a thought.”

The boat seemed have slowed down some more.

“Well,” he seems to have hesitated before saying that, “if the boat suddenly stopped that would probably mean we’d hit something and in that scenario being thrown around could be dangerous, yes, but if something is defective with the seatbelt and can’t get unbuckled…”

I let my lips form a line, and nod.

“Another… unfortunate way to go if ever… that happens. But what’s the likelihood of that happening, right? Well both of those things.” I cross my arms to wrap them around myself.

The boat seems to have made a complete stop.

“We can go back if you want.” He says with a concerned look.

“No it’s alright. You said that you wanted to uh… get this over. Let’s just do this the way you planned it.” I try to give him a small smile, despite feeling uncomfortable. “I’m alright.”

This was fine, just… really awkward… not the way I planned things to go.

Arin shakes his head, “We don’t have to stay out here, Melissa. You aren’t obligated.”

I let out a breath, trying to just try to make the best out of this situation.

“Listen… I was pretty excited to go on this date. Though it hasn’t quite started out the way I would have wanted, I’m not exactly… assuming that this date is already a disaster and a hopeless case.” I lift a shoulder, before adding, “Sorry for trying to pry earlier.”

Maybe he just didn’t want to keep on talking about himself… which completely destroys the idea of a first date… but…

“You an be excited, no one is stopping you. And yes this is technically a date but…” he cuts himself off.

“But…?” I keep eye contact, trying to be as serious as I could be. “Arin, I don’t want to mince words here.”

That’s where I went wrong before. I needed to know what was going on in that head of his so I could adjust.

“You can’t pretend like we just ran into each other getting coffee and I thought you were smart and cute and asked you out.” I watch him leans back in his seat, before meeting my eyes.

I nod at what he says, trying to understand what he meant to say.

“And yet, circumstance has brought us here nonetheless.” I reach up to rub my neck, while looking away. “I understand... this isn’t... the most traditional way to be on a date with someone. Trust me, I do.”

I think I would have taken the coffee shop option any day, but a part of me felt still clung to the idea of this being the fairytale romance I wanted a second chance with.

I try to make light of this situation again, “If it’s any consolation, I probably would have been the one to ask you out because I thought you were smart and cute.”

Sometimes I hate what comes out of my mouth.

All Arin does is shift uncomfortably and looks straight ahead, taking a deep breath.

I sigh to myself at that, “Sorry, I’ll just… stop talking now and try to not make this any worse.”

I wonder if they were going to let me keep some of my dresses when Arin was going to send me home tomorrow.

Silence. All there is silence from him until he turns to me again.

“Do you like fruit?”

I blink at that, nodding slowly.

“Of course I like fruit. I’m uh… vegan.”

“Okay.” He nods, “We have fruit.”

“Thank you.” I nod back. “Uh, what kind of fruit?”

“Um… they’re in the fridge.” He says before awkwardly standing up to look at me.

Oh thank God, an excuse to get out of here for a bit.

“That’s nice.” I take a step back, “Mind if I check it out?”

“Go for it… I’ll just keep an eye out for other boats…” He’s still standing in place.

“Other boats… Okie dokie, I’ll just be… in the kitchenette.” I take a few steps before wondering if he needed anything. “Do you want anything from there?”

“Uh huh.”

“Um okay? What can I get you?”

“Sounds great!”

He wasn’t listening, I look over to see him crouching from where he was and hiding. He was probably on his phone.

A part of me wanted to be anywhere else. Anywhere else but here, but I was here and I had no where to go.

I move over to the fridge, trying to think of ways to make the best out of this. There had to be something good to come out of this.

Arin is kind, remember that above all things.

He just needed time to warm up…. At least… I thought so.

“What would Grammy do?” I mumble to myself, crouching down to the open fridge door, grabbing some apples and oranges.

Grammy would probably have pushed him off the boat, if he was a normal boy. This wasn’t a normal date, and Arin wasn’t a normal boy. Plus, I’m pretty sure, his bodyguard was somewhere we couldn’t just see him.

I couldn’t do anything but grin and bear this. I signed up for this after all.

Suddenly, I hear the door open and I tense. I signed up for this. My eyes grab a few more fruits before setting them all on the counter. From the corner of my eye, I see him sitting down on the seats close to the edge of the boat’s open area.

“Arin, are there any knives I can use to slice these fruits up?”

Just the sound of the waves.

“Arin?” I call again, to no response. Well I guess I wasn’t going to slice these up. I decide to just wash what I could and dry them before putting the fruits I got on a platter I saw close to the sink, and head over to him at the deck.

“Hey… uh, you didn’t say which fruit you wanted, so I just… brought uh… a sample of each one that was in the fridge.”

He seems to look up in surprise as I walk over.

“Oh… I…” he looks around before looking back to me. “Anything is fine.”

“Okie dokie,” I nod my head.

“I’ll just…” I place the platter on a nearby table close to him, “leave this here.” I curl my lips in before reaching to pick up the sole orange and find a seat not too far from him, but enough space for a bob sled team.

“So… what did you have planned…?” I ask, taking my seat.

He takes his time to look at me for a good moment. Were all my conversations with him going to be this awkward?

“Honestly? I didn’t have a plan. I’m not really someone who dates.”

The boat just sways slightly as the ocean moves the boat ever so slightly up and down.

I just nod at that, my hands peeling my orange. “Same here. I mean… huh… it’s just been a while.”

It’s been seven years, actually. That felt like a lifetime ago. I shake my head remembering that, bringing a piece of the orange to my mouth to shut myself up.

“Well, then at least we’re in the same boat.” He says before going silent, then chuckling out of nowhere.

I try to not laugh, stifling my own laughter. I didn’t even know if I was allowed to laugh around his presence.

“In more ways than one, I suppose.” I eat another orange slice, nodding once. If he only knew.

Except I didn’t act like a stick in the mud after my fiancé left me.

“Boat for boat?”

“Hm?” I turn to him, slightly confused with what he said. “Sorry I didn’t quite catch what… you said.” More of what he meant.

Arin waves it off and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He says before running his hands through his hair.

“So you like oranges?”

Why was he asking me all these fruit related questions? Well… talking about fruits was something.

“They’re fun to peel.” I nod slowly before lifting my orange peel, staying in one piece.

“But so are bananas.” He raises an eyebrow at me, leaning over to grab and pick up a banana.

“So you prefer bananas?” I ask, eating another orange.

Bananas… were alright… I suppose.

Good with ice cream.

“The have potassium and you’re less likely to choke.” He says before beginning to peel the banana.

What orange fact did I know??

I lift a piece of my orange, “Fiber and Vitamin C. The peels are nice to turn into candy too.”

“All fruits have their merits.” He then sinks back into the cushions of his seat.

“Yes they all do.”

That was my third… fourth? Conversation that went nowhere.

I look out to the water, finishing my orange, my hands going back to fiddle with my ring. This was nice… the set up… but… it seemed like a logistical nightmare.

“I have a question.” I say out loud.

“Hm?” Arin’s eyes are still closed when he says that, taking a bite and chewing slowly.

“Why’d you choose a boat ride for our ‘date’? I mean… was it… randomized?” I tilt my head, how am I supposed to phrase this. “I’m just… curious with what the logistics behind this whole… process is like.”

Arin opens his eyes, finally looking over to me, blinking at the sun’s brightness “I didn’t pick it, it was picked for me. So I don’t really have an answer for you on how or why.”

I feel my brows furrow when he says that.

“So that’s why you’d wanna get this over…”

I suppose I was just another name to check of whatever list they had.

“No,” he says, eyeing me cautiously. “I said I wanted to get it over because there’s no point in treating this like it’s a normal date.” His eyes glance down to the banana in his hand. “But for what it’s worth, the boat was a nice touch. I’ve got to hand it to them.”

Easy for him to say that.

“So how do you want to approach this then?” I prop my head on my arm, looking over to him. “An extended lunch meeting?”

I think I wanted this date to be over more than he did, but I still badly wanted to stay… in the Selection. But this Selection wasn’t the fairytale I was hoping it to be.

“We could, but something tells me that’s not you want.” He looks back to me, and raises his brows.

Oh he was concerned with what I wanted know.

“From what I reckon, the two of us had very different expectations from this.” I lift my shoulders and dust my hands. “I’d rather negotiate with how we’re going to go about this ‘date’, just to make sure I’m on the same page as you are.”

I felt tired, having to play mental gymnastics trying to make sure things were going well. Might as well ask him what he was expecting to manage my own.

“So then, negotiate.” An amused but expectant look appears on his features before he takes another bite of his banana.

I can’t believe I was actually making negotiations about this date… during the date itself.

“Alright,” I clasp my hands on the table in front of me. “So do you want me to avoid all personal questions? You definitely seem like I touch a nerve every time I seem to ask a question about you.”

Literally… every personal question ended up at a dead end, or him having snapped at me.

“I don’t see how you could possibly do that.” He finishes his banana and chews it, looking like he was thinking something over.

“Well I could try.” I argue with a sigh, wracking my brain. Saying the first thing to pop up in my head. “Do aliens exist? What’s wrong but sounds right?”

All I get is a look from Arin, as if I was insane.

“You want to talk about aliens? Really?”

He stands up.

I try to not groan.

“It’s better than nothing. Are you gonna try to dismiss every single thing I try to suggest to you?” I meet his eyes, wanting to say some more choice words, feeling myself tense.

“What do you want from me, Melissa?”

For the nth time, people call me Missy. Could he stop calling me Melissa?

I feel my brows knit.

“I don’t even know what I really want from this, from you.” I admit, blinking a couple of times. I didn’t know what I wanted from this anymore, now that I’m here.

I came here because I wanted to fall in love with someone again.

I stand from my seat, and head over to one of the rails, leaning over to watch the water. Was it too much to ask for another chance?

I hear Arin move around, and I can’t help but not ignore my left hand twisting on my ring.

“What exactly were you hoping for? A whirlwind romance?”

I just wanted to feel the butterflies in my stomach firsthand again. I missed… that kind of happiness.

The attention of the Selection felt good at first.

Daniel must be kicking himself. I heard my mama say to me one day after my name was announced.

The only person kicking themselves right now was me.

I think I wanted to cry right now.

I turn to Arin, “Something like that, yes. Guess fairytales about this whole Selection thing just really do stay in those books.”

I grew reading about the previous Selections, almost knowing the names of every girl who was picked as The One in the Selections past. I studied them since people wanted weddings like those.

America, Alize, Annelise, Eloise, Danielle. They all seemed happy in their wedding pictures.

“I think you mean fairytales in general.” I hear Arin step closer, and I catch him shove his hands in his pockets from the corner of my eyes.

“Between you and me, I thought this was my second chance with the whole fairytale schtick.” I shake my head, the thought of Arin and fairytale romance? The more time I spent with him, the more those words disassociated themselves from each other.

“Well then, it seems like you and I are very different people.”

I think out loud, “Surround yourself with happy couples on the road to happily ever after every day.” I lift my shoulders.

For all the secondhand butterflies I’ve had from weddings, there was always the tiniest pang of jealousy. I could have had a day like that. Why didn’t I deserve to be that happy?

Maybe a part of Arin wondered that too.

I wait a quiet moment and debate if I should ask Arin something about his own expectations out of this.

“What do you want out of this, then?” I look to him. This date was already going up in flames, might as well try my best to make sense of it, and this whole Selection experience. “I mean this whole Selection.”

“Nothing.”

Nothing.

He wanted nothing.

For someone who had a say in this, that was a pretty sad answer.

I wait for a beat before I nod my head once.

“You’re less likely to be disappointed then.” I reply, pushing back some of my stray hair blown by the breeze.

“Maybe you’re right. But I think I’ve only been disappointed more.” He says walking to the railing to my right and leaning against it.

I move a little to give him some space, but look over to him.

“Even without expectations, this isn’t exactly how you thought this was gonna turn out, huh?”

I wondered what he genuinely expected out of this? Make his ex jealous? Find a rebound?

“This was never part of the plan.” His eyes stay on the water as he says that, looking like he’s thinking. I leave him to his thoughts so I could go over my own.

With what he’s been saying… with how’s been acting towards me… it made me really question: What was his plan…

“This was my grandpa’s boat.”

“Was King Raja the one who named this the L’Etoile de Mer?” I ask.

Arin looks to me, “No, he wasn’t. I never really knew him. I mean my mom’s dad.” His eyes go back to the water.

“Do you wish you knew him?” My eyes don’t leave the water either when I ask that.

He stays still for a moment before he shakes his head. “No, I don’t.”

I nod my head at that. “Then it’s not much of a loss on your end.”

The idea of not knowing your grandparents was sad… at least if it was me.

“I was mostly raised by my grandparents. I wouldn’t know what I’d do without them.” I share, while we were on the topic. I mean I was raised by my mama and daddy too, but they had me when they were young.

Grammy and Pappy felt... more like parents to me.

“Well, then yours were much better people than mine were.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I wanted to ask why it seemed like that to him when he was the one who brought up his grandfather.

We’re back to our regularly scheduled silence in between conversations, until I see him move away. Maybe he was going over to the controls to bring us back. No, he was staying in one place.

I turn to him, before I realize that he was actually unbuttoning his shirt.

“Oh,”

I feel heat rise to my face, and I turn back to facing the water. For good measure, I place my hand to cover my peripheral vision from seeing him. “Uh, sorry.”

“I forgot.”

“Well, uh?” I blink, peeking to see him having dropped his hands to his side. The heat from my face not going away. “Is it safe to swim around here?”

“It should be. Why? Are you worried I might feed you to the sharks?” I see his brows raise at me.

“For all I know, that’s how you plan on eliminating me.” I look over the water again. If he was going to insist on swimming around these parts. “Can you teach me… how to swim…?”

“I promise you that I didn’t murder anyone who has been sent home so far.” His fingers go back to his buttons. “I’m sorry?”

My eyes widen before spinning on my heel to turn back to the water.

“Sorry.” I cover my line of sight to his direction again with my hand. “I suppose I’ll just float with this on… if ever.” Was he really going to swim? In OPEN water?

“You can learn how to swim but I don’t think the open ocean is the place to start.”

I snap my fingers with my free hand, “Fair point.” My other hand was still up to cover myself from seeing him. “Sorry we can’t go swimming right now.”

“Who knows, maybe there was a hugry shark down there and you just saved us both from being eaten.”

I peek over to him, was that… the hint of a genuine smile?

“Safety first on the L’Etoile De Mer, right?” I reply, still eyeing him… and that smile.

He laughs, “Well in less than a day you’ve already learned something my mom hasn’t learned in 50 years.”

I give him a look, sort of weirded out at him laughing.

“And that is?”

“That safety is very important.”

I can’t help but let a laugh out at that.

“Hard to believe that your mother wouldn’t think of safety as important.”

Arin blinks at that. “I’m guessing you haven’t met her yet.” He says before looking out to the water again.

I shake my head. “She’s away, isn’t she? Some tour abroad, right?”

“Oh,” Arin frowns, “I meant my mom. I don’t call the queen mom.”

Oh…

I look away in my embarrassment. “Oh… sorry. I thought... you called both of them... I mean... your mom and the queen... uh... mom. Sorry.”

That was… a stupid assumption.

“No, the queen isn’t mom.” Arin explains as he leans back against the railing. “Mom is the princess.”

“Duly noted.” I reply, mentally kicking myself

A massive sigh comes from Arin.

I sigh mentally to myself. This date couldn’t already get any worse.

I was almost certain I was going home soon, and the only bright side to it was that I wouldn’t have any more painfully awkward conversations like this with Arin Schreave.

#selectionoc #selection oc #melissa duthe #missy fics #arin tag #((i think I can truly say that Arin Schreave does not deserve any rights BJSNJKDNKSDJK HE MADE MISSY CRY))#((there are more tears in the next fic too bro it was a rough date))

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