#they did it to liam all the time like yes that man was cringe but he would do something like post a picture of harry winning aoty | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slocumjoe · 2 years ago

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First times*

*consensual *Curie and X6 not included, as I don't believe they've ever had sex

Cait; A girl in the combat zone. She occasionally fought for money, but most of her time there was up in the stands, sipping wine and staring haughtily. Her name was something to do with knives but she fought with a claw hammer. Cait's first time talking to her, she stared down her straight nose at her like a vulture. But she thought Cait was funny, with her broken nose and teeth and wild eyes. Cait thought she was pretty, like dolls you see on billboards. They ran off behind a building, Cait shoving her hands down the lady's pants so forcefully, she broke the zipper. She kept the broken zipper as a trophy of some kind. She still has it.

Danse; He never wanted to, not really. Cutler always had someone. Somehow, Cutler just knew whatever needed to be said to get a partner for the night, and he used that ability often. Danse didn't. People had propositioned him before, but quickly backed down the moment they realized what he was like. His brothers and sisters weren't so juvenile as to tease, but he could tell it was something to fix. Something expected of him. The next person to proposition him, he said yes to. Her name was Abigail, and she all but dragged him to her quarters. It didnt hurt, Danse just...didnt get it. She enjoyed herself, though, so he considers the issue dealt with. He liked when she snuggled up to him after, but examining that makes his stomach turn.

Deacon; A girl he went to school with. He was fifteen, she was seventeen, and he felt like a champ hooking up with an older woman. He still cringes when he remembers that. Her name was Sadie. She was kind of the town honeypot, with thick, fluffy black hair and pale grey eyes and a smile that could stop a Deathclaw in its tracks. Sadie laughed at a joke he made at a party, and he took that as an opening. One thing led to another, and another led to a broom closet.

Gage; He did a lot of bad shit as a kid for money. Shit he looks back on and it makes him feel sick. The first time he had sex, real sex, as an adult with another adult, the guy was a freak. Twister, he called himself, and he was a big fan of body modification. His tongue split down the middle, pronged. His ears were bigger than his chemed-out eyes. Twister wasn't a handsome fellow, but a young Porter thought he seemed fun. To his credit, Twister wasn't a bad guy, not in bed. He asked if Gage had done it before, what he liked, what he didn't. Made sure to make him comfy. Gage hated it. He didn't want to be comfy. He wanted fun.

Hancock; Oh, Caleb. Sweet, handsome Caleb, who had the eyes of a doe and the dick of a horse. Hancock was a young, broken man, looking to find some relief where he was told it was. And somehow, he lucked out, and met Caleb at a bar. His hair was red, and Hancock, being a shit, called him fire-crotch. And he smiled, his teeth crooked but endearing, and beamed, "at least my crotch burns for a good reason!" Johnny bought him a drink, and Caleb said only if they could share it. Of course he invited him to an alley. He doesn't know what happened to the guy, but damn, if that dick didn't do him good. He's glad his first time was with a decent person.

MacCready; They'd just left for Bigtown. He always thought she was cute, and funny, and smart, and nice, and he always liked how her nose wrinkled when she was annoyed. She always liked him, thought he was brave and noble and a knight in shining armor. They'd never kissed, or even held hands, but they found a little place in Bigtown together. They didn't discuss it beforehand, they just did. And the first night, MacCready went to sleep on the couch. But she took his hand, staring at the floor, her cheeks red, and pulled him to her room. It soon became their room.

Nick; a teenaged Nick Valentine's greatest achievement was shacking up with the star quarterback, some meathead named William Summey. Everyone called him Liam. He wasn't your typical jock. He didn't shove people into lockers, or harass anyone, but he gave the theater and art kids a rough time. Teased them. Thought it was dumb. Especially Nick. Called him gay once, and Nicky crossed his long legs, leaned back in his chair, and purred, "That's of interest to you, huh?" And ol' Liam shut up real quick, turned hot red while his buddies didn't know to beat the crap out of Nick, or give them some privacy. Liam sat by him on the bus, riding home. Nick was cornered, but God, did he feel powerful, then. Next day, Nick got in Liam's Corvega, and they went somewhere private. Last he heard of the guy, he moved to Vermont and opened a bed and breakfast with one of his 'friends' from his college football.

Piper; A trade caravan rolled into DC, one day. A merc stopped at the Dugout for a drink, same day Piper did. She was six feet tall, her long, blonde hair tied back in braids, held together with bone and metal. Her eyes were gaunt, dark, sharper than the axe on her back. And God, her arms, her legs, she was almost like a Super Mutant. Thick with muscle, you could see the tendons move like machinery beneath her skin. Piper took one look at her and froze, and she noticed the flushed reporter, laughed, and turned to Vadim to buy her a drink. Her name was Marta. She pulled Piper away to a booth in a corner, sat on the same side as her, pulled her in her lap. Poor Yefim, next time he came over, Piper paid for a room, and there was no mistaking why.

Preston; His first time was a threesome, and while he doesn't regret it, per say, he does think it was maybe overkill for his first time. It was one of his first assignments as a Minuteman. They just got back to a settlement after handling some raiders. One of the locals, he offered them dinner, happy to offer his food to the town's protectors. So, they had kind of a potluck. That guy had a kid, Isaiah, Preston's age. He was kind of grungy, thin in his long limbs but always smiling. His neighbor, Stacy, she was pale, and much more reserved, she barely met Preston's eye when he greeted her. Well, he stepped away from the party to get some air, get a moment to himself. They followed him. Isaiah stood in front of him, right in front. Stacy leaned against the barn wall right by him. Put her hand on his chest. While he blinked at that, Isaiah leaned in, boxed him in with a hand by his head on the wall. Preston wasn't a fool, he got the idea. He got a lot that night.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #nick valentine #piper wright #companions react #robert joseph maccready #porter gage #sexuality isnt a choice. especially not when nick valentine is involved

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zot3-flopped · 1 year ago

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I saw the light….I can’t believe I was a Larrie for so long. I was a Larrie 2013-2022. To think they were dating these past few years is insane. Harry would cringe if he went to a Louis show. Louis’ music is trash; Walls wasn’t too shabby but FITF is a complete rip off of 2000s indie rock bands. No originality or artistry. And his voice sounds like shit, always has. I remember when i was younger I did like him but I could never get into his voice…it always made me cringe but I forced myself to like it. And nothing has changed. His voice is still bad. I will never understand how he has rabid fans that worship him. (Oh wait, most of them are delulu larries)

You’d think after all these years Louis could change but unfortunately he is surrounded by yes-men. No one is condemning him for drinking and smoking every single day of his life. So he’s gonna keep fucking himself up. Doesn’t know his own lyrics, always drunk, sticks middle finger to fans and curses like a pirate. He’s been a mess for a while now and no one is stopping him.

Hate to say this but with his family history and how unhealthy he is…he’ll be lucky to make it to 40. His fans encourage him too. They’re like “Oh he’s an adult, he drinks normally…” Babe it’s not normal to down 10 shots of vodka and multiple pints of beer everyday. It’s alcoholism, it leads to liver failure, and it kills 3 million people worldwide every year. He desperately needs rehab and therapy as well.

His sisters are more mature than him about their mother/sister’s passings - they grieved, post about their birthdays, and make sure to keep them in their memory. Louis on the other hand? Completely numbed himself out and has been doing so for the past 7 fucking years.

He’s such an asshole about being a chav. Always talking about eating junk food and thinking he’s too cool to eat sushi, drink wine, eat vegetables, etc. Shut the fuck up. You’re not a teenager, it’s not cool to act like immature about eating healthy. No one else can get away with what he does…getting off to young female fans ripping off his shirt, groping him, even sucking their fingers 🤢 He’s sick.

Glad that Harry is where he is right now, successful, intelligent, ambitious, creative, and the current biggest male pop star. Good for him. Niall, Liam, Louis are complete flops. At least Zayn has #1 hits. The rest will forever be known as the forgotten 1D members.

I will never understand why people call Harry overrated. He is an extremely hardworking man, and more of an interesting unique person than any of the other members. He is charismatic on stage and always makes the crowd laughs, he’s an energetic performer. And I will never understand how Louis has stans. Even when I was a Larrie, I didn’t like his behavior or appearance. Everyone knows he’s ugly but beats around the bush. He is a disgusting typical macho man who goes to EDM clubs every night and has no hobbies besides acting like a child. He’s so rude. He’s just talentless and ugly. Hate him 🖕

I cant believe I thought him and Harry were dating…Louis isn’t even able to have a conversation that isn’t about alcohol, nor is he able to go more than a few hours without cigarettes which Harry hates.

👏👏👏👏 Congratulations on shaking off Larrie after such a long time. Agree with every word of this.

#louis tomlinson #harry styles #larries #niall horan #liam payne #zayn

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alj4890 · 2 years ago

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Just a Dream

(Tobias Carrick x F!MC) in a Choices Open Heart Drabble

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge with the prompt: a kiss in the aftermath of a fight.

A/N Takes place a few years down the road for the two 😂 Honestly I couldn't think of a good enough fight for any of my pairs (I started a few but I ended up cringing so hard over them that they were immediately deleted), but this idea came about and I couldn't think of a smoother man than Tobias to deal with the situation 🤣

Rating PG for some language

@jerzwriter @hopelessromantic1352 @choicesficwriterscreations @trappedinfanfiction @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @kyra75 @coffeeheartaddict2

Masterlist

A little after four in the morning...

Chris gasped as her eyes flew open. Tears slipped down the sides of her face as she stared up at the ceiling fan. Her heart felt like it was breaking in two. Her stomach roiled with the images still fresh in her mind causing her to dash to the bathroom.

After a brief episode knelt in front of the toilet that ended with her swearing to never eat tacos again, she brushed her teeth and then crawled back into bed with more tears than before.

How could he say that to me?!

She turned her head to the side, eyes narrowing upon her husband softly snoring.

"Tobias?" She nudged him.

He grumbled something and rolled onto his stomach.

"Oh!" She sat up, grabbed his shoulder, and violently shook him.

"WAKE UP!" She yelled at him.

Tobias scrambled to his knees in a tangle of blankets.

"What's wrong?"

He flipped on the bedside lamp, blinking against the brightness as he focused on his wife. Tears were falling unheeded down her cheeks, alarming him more so than the way she woke him up.

"Chris?" He reached for her. "What is it? Are you hurt?"

"No." She sniffed, beginning to cry harder.

"Did you throw up again?" He gently rubbed her back.

"No. I mean, yes. But that's not why I'm upset!"

"What's wrong?" He placed his hand on her very slight baby bump. "Is it the baby?"

"No. All's fine in there." She reached for some tissues.

"Babe." He rubbed a hand down his face. "You need to just tell me instead of making me guess at," he checked the time and groaned, "four in the morning."

She glared at him.

Tobias looked around himself. He wondered what had set her off in the middle of the night this time.

"It's you." She hissed. "How could you?!"

"How could I what?"

"How could you say that to me?!" Chris screeched.

"What?" He stressed. "What did I say? That I'm too sleepy to guess what's wrong?"

"No! You told me to take our marriage license and shove it up my arse!"

"I did what?" He blinked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"You said you didn't want me or this baby anymore!" She continued, blowing her nose. "You wanted your precious freedom and that I could go straight to hell for all you cared."

His brow was furrowed in thought before it hit him what happened.

"You were dreaming."

"That was no bloody dream!" She shouted. "That was a straight out nightmare."

Her face crumbled with more tears. A sob caught at the back of her throat.

"How could you do that to me?"

Tobias knew in that hormone infused mind of hers that any chance of reasoning with her would be met with more headaches than it was worth. He was beginning to notice a trend with her pregnancy. Anytime Chris ate spicy foods, some weird nightmare that seemed deep seeded in legitimate fears would come to life in her dreams.

He wrapped his arms around her and cuddled her stiff form as best as he could. Dropping a kiss to the top of her red head, he sighed.

There was only one thing he could do if he hoped to ever get a chance to sleep again.

"I'm an asshole."

Chris shook her head. "No, you're not."

"I am if I said something like that in your dreams." He brushed her hair out of her face.

He hated to see her cry. A part of him wished the old, pre-pregnant Chris was still here so she could laugh and playfully threaten him over his dream self remarks. The other part of him was touched she would be this hurt with him leaving her, even in a dream.

"You know," Tobias murmured kissing her forehead, "I would have to be a completely different, probably taken over by aliens, person to ever even have a thought of saying something like that to you, right?"

"Right." She blew her nose again.

"I don't want my freedom. If I really did, would I have married you?"

"No."

"And I sure as hell wouldn't have tried to knock you up so fast, would I?"

A tearful giggle slipped out over his choice of words.

"I mean, you might have." She teased. "I've never seen you turn down an offer to sleep with me."

He smiled when she wrapped her arms around him.

"See?" He prodded squeezing her close. "You're the only one I want."

"I know." She sighed against him.

Chris leaned back to look up at him.

He pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

"Think you can rest now?" He asked.

"I think so."

He turned the lamp off and cuddled her close once more. He silently said a prayer of thankfulness that this episode had ended quicker than previous ones. He also swore to deny her spicy foods at night.

"Tobias?" She whispered.

Oh god.

He braced himself.

"Yeah?"

"We kinda had a fight, didn't we?"

"In your dream, we did."

"And we basically made up, right?"

He softly cursed to himself. Where was she going with these questions?

"Yes."

She turned in his arms to face him.

"And what do we do after we fight?"

He studied her face, hoping to see the answer somewhere on it.

"We usually kiss and makeup." He mumbled.

Please let that be right, he silently pleaded, so I can go back to sleep.

"And?" Chris prodded.

He wanted to throw his hands up in surrender. Tobias closed his eyes and tried to remember the last real fight they'd had. There hadn't been too many over the years, but when they did argue they usually...

His eyes popped open as a slow smile formed.

Chris's cheeky grin responded to him finally catching on.

"Far be it from me not to make up for my nightmare version." He muttered against her lips.

His hands slipped under her nightgown and began to caress her body.

Chris moaned from the heat of his touch.

"I love you." She gasped, her back already arching from just the feel of his skin against hers.

"I love you too, Chris." He winked at her. "Now let me show you just how much."

#thirty kisses in thirty days #tobias carrick x mc #dr. tobias carrick #tobias x chris #choices open heart #choices fic writers creations #open heart fanfic

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doodlebeeberry · 2 years ago

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Losing and Finding

Bryce stared out at the stars above. Near to the city as they were, the vast majority were still blotted out, but the relative dark of the campgrounds revealed a small smattering of them, glittering clear. He knew—or, rather, he’d once heard—that all he really could see through the light pollution were satellites and planets he couldn’t name, but he didn’t care. Tired and sleepless, he felt as though he could touch them. In which Bryce, Liam, and Amelia go on a very important road trip

for objectober day 5- reunion! (and also for a request over on ao3)

my fun fact about this is that its the only thing ive ever written that ive made a playlist for. make of that what you will

(ao3 link in source)

They left early in the afternoon. Liam fidgeted with the radio dial, flipping past top 40s stations and several newscasts while Amelia drove along beside him.

“I still don’t get why we’re driving there,” He said, pausing for a moment at the tail-end of what seemed like some 80s dad rock.

“What else are we supposed to do,” Amelia asked, glancing between him and the road, “take the train?”

“Yeah?” a trap beat started up and Liam frowned, flipping past it. “The train is way better”

“But it takes way longer.”

“So? At least you don’t have to stop for gas every twenty miles”

“Are you accusing my car of having shit mileage?” Bryce butted in from the back seat, leaning in over the center console. He grasped his phone in his hand, halfway through entering directions.

“I’m not saying that!” Liam defended, throwing his hands up, leaving the radio on a live sportscast, “I’m not! I'm just saying, having to worry about gas stations isn’t the best way to travel”

“And counting train stops is? Or do you just like traveling around with a bunch of strangers?” Bryce countered, typing on his phone once more.

Something good must’ve happened in whatever game they were covering, given the whoops of ecstatic joy that suddenly came from the radio. Liam turned back to it, flipping to static.

“At least it’s more efficient. Better for the environment.” He said, faux-defensive.

“Whatever you say, man” Bryce replied offhand.

Relative silence lapsed between them, above the radio and vrring of the car down the road. It persisted for several seconds.

“Your mileage is pretty bad, though,” Amelia said, not bothering to look at either of them. Bryce flicked her rim.

“Is it that one about laying..” Amelia snapped her fingers a few times, trying to think of the name, “Chasing Cars, I think? That one?”

Bryce’s car didn’t have an audio jack, let alone bluetooth. A bit of an old junker, alongside the radio, it boasted only a skip-happy cd player and a tape deck that had chewed up a few cassettes in its time. But that hadn’t stopped Liam from breaking out his phone and, armed with the tape to aux converter buried in the glove box, playing dj after the radio had failed him.

“I don’t know that one” Bryce said.

Amelia glanced at him in the mirror, “Yes you do. It's the one they kept playing at the store the other week”

“The 'just lay here' one? You mean that?”

“Yeah, that! God, how many times in a row did they play that?”

“Way too many,” Bryce cringed a bit at the thought, “ Way too many. But no, it’s not that.”

They’d spent a while going around in a circle, each of them picking a song for Liam to play, one after the other. At present, though, the cycle had gotten stuck on Bryce, fumbling for the name of the song currently stuck in his head that he hadn’t actually listened to since high school.

“Does it sound like that, though?”

“Kinda?” Bryce furrowed a brow in thought, “I think it's named after some sort of flower?”

“Oh! Hey There Delilah!” Liam chimed in.

“No, not that either,” Bryce paused, briefly, then, turning to Liam, “how’d you get that from flowers?”

“Cause a delilah is a flower.”

“What? No, it’s just a name”

“No, Liam’s right, I think it’s a flower, too”

Bryce stared at Amelia and Liam like they were spouting gibberish. “What are you two talking about?”

“It’s true!” Amelia defended, “Look it up! Liam, look it up”

Bryce peeked around Liam’s shoulder at his phone, the browser already pulled up. Upon typing in ‘delilah’, Liam pointed to the suggested searches.

“See? ‘Delilah flower’, its the third result”

“That doesn’t make you right, though” Bryce replied, clicking the search and watching it load, slowly. Several pictures of pink and yellow flowers popped up on the screen.

“The delilah flower is a type of dahlia,” Liam read, “and is a member of the,” he squinted a bit at the word, “Asteraceae family, alongside daisies and chrysanthemums. They often symbolize kindness and steadfastness—see? It's a flower!”

They’d been sitting in traffic for a while now. Well over half an hour, at least. Apparently, according to the traffic report Liam had pulled up some twenty minutes ago, there had been an accident somewhere just ahead of them. A messy one, by the sound of it.

“I spy with my little eye, something that is…” Liam scanned the lines of cars stretching down the highway ahead of them, “Purple”

“Purple?”

“Yep. Bright purple.”

Bryce hummed, studying their surroundings. Purple wasn’t exactly a common colour on the highway. Still, he spotted a few speckles of it in the median to their left.

“Those flowers,” Bryce said, pointing. Liam glanced at them.

“Pretty! But no.”

He sputtered a bit. “What do you mean, no? They’re the only purple things around here!”

“No they’re not,” Liam said, grinning slightly at his frustration, “You’ve just gotta look closer”

Music swirled around them as he searched, Amelia humming along, tapping the steering wheel. He turned to her after a minute.

“Help me out, here, will you?”

“Nope,” she said, almost, sing-songy, “you got yourself into this, you—”

“You don’t know either, do you.”

“..no, I don’t.”

Bryce rolled his eyes, glaring out at the horizon. It was then that he spotted it: a splash of colour sticking out ahead of them.

“So? Admit defeat?” Liam asked.

“Oh my god,” Bryce replied. He all but shot forward to point it out, “That car ”

How he’d missed it before, Bryce didn’t know. It stuck out like a sore thumb: bright, almost neon purple, with what could only be described as a gaudy, yellow-striped fin sticking proudly out of the roof. Liam cackled.

“What is that ?” Amelia cried upon spotting it.

“That’s it!", Liam said between giggles, “You got it!”

Bryce continued to stare at it. He wouldn’t consider himself, or any of them, for that matter, an authority on good taste, not by a longshot. Their furniture clashed, their mugs were tacky—just about nothing back home in their apartment matched with anything else. But good god,

“That’s awful,” he said, balking, “what the hell?”

An hour later, traffic finally began to let up. They’d fallen into a bit of silence by that point, letting the music alone fill the space as they passed by the reminisce of the accident. Pointedly, Bryce stared down at the directions on his phone, listing the miles and miles they still had left to travel, his chest just slightly tight. He didn’t look up until Liam choked, suddenly, somewhat past the reminisce, snorting at the garish car they were passing. Upon spotting the matching fins stuck to the side doors, all striped with different colours, the three of them nearly howled with laughter.

They’d pulled into a small rest stop just after the car chimed about being empty, a larger one boasting several little restaurants if the sign was to be believed. Bryce stood beside the car, nozzle in hand, listening to the fwish of gas rushing between the pump and the car. The total cost whizzed higher and higher, much faster than the slow climb of the gallons beneath it on the display. He grimaced. Liam’s train idea seemed to make a lot more sense, then. He took to watching the highway instead. A tractor-trailer roared past, followed shortly after by a u-haul van and a tiny bright orange fiat. He tried to squint across the distance, to make out the figures behind the wheels or in the passenger’s seats, but they all just blurred together, sticking out no more than a single leaf on the trees boarding the road, dense in early summer green.

He couldn’t remember the face of the driver. It’d been chaotic, and in the moment, he couldn’t care less. He wasn’t looking for them. He—

The nozzle stopped, clicking. He blinked out at the scenery for a moment. A red SUV breezed past, then a black sedan, then a convertible, and so on and on and on. He forced his thoughts back to the present. Sparing the screen a glance, he found the tank hadn’t quite reached full but returned the nozzle anyways. It would be enough for tonight.

“Bryce!”

He turned, finding Amelia and Liam trotting out through the service center doors. A little black plastic bag hung off Liam’s arm, a sandwich in his hand. Bryce had just enough forewarning, when Liam threw it to him, to catch it. He turned it over, reading the label. Turkey and swiss.

“They’re doing renovations in there, so the restaurants were closed,” Liam said on approach, “It was kinda slim pickings. I got some snacks too if you just want those instead” he began digging through the bag a bit. Bryce hadn’t actually told them he’d wanted anything, to his knowledge. He'd forgotten about eating almost entirely. Still, heart warm,

“Nah, this is fine,” Bryce said, “Thanks.” He began unwrapping it carefully. Liam smiled gently, pulling out a snack cake for himself.

“Of course, man.”

The three stood clustered together for several minutes, chatting and eating and stretching out after being cramped in the car for nearly five hours straight, drinking in the long shadows and the warm slant of the late afternoon sun. Amelia swallowed the last bit of her granola bar.

“How much further are we going today?” She asked.

Bryce hummed. “I think we're...an hour out from Pittsburgh? Something like that”

“Alright, cool” She replied, crumpling up the wrapper. It glinted, silvery, almost dazzling in the light. Amelia tossed it into a nearby bin and stretched a bit, groaning slightly. “God, I don’t remember the last time I drove this long.”

“I can take over, you know.” Bryce offered.

“No need,” Liam butted in before she could answer, oozing with mock confidence, “I’ve got it!”

Amelia and Bryce looked at him flatly.

“No,” they said, together.

“Why not?” Liam whined.

“Cause we wanna get there without wrecking the car first” Amelia replied, patting his shoulder when he frowned, “Sorry”

Liam grumbled, bitelessly, “You crash one car four times—”

“How do you still have a license?” Bryce asked, opening the driver’s side door.

“No idea. Dumb luck, probably”

“Really?” Amelia said, sliding into the back seat, “I just thought you bribed the DMV somehow”

Liam sputtered as she shut the door.

He wasn’t sure how, exactly, Amelia and Liam had convinced him to go camping on the way here instead of just getting a motel somewhere. Some mix of ‘it’ll be cheaper' and ‘it’ll be good weather for it’ and ‘we can borrow the neighbour’s tent, he’ll let us’ and ‘come on, it’ll be fun’, combined with the fact that those two were very, very good at convincing him to do stupid stuff, regardless of the fact that none of them had been camping in ages at least, if at all. Between the three of them, they could hardly even set up a tent, a fact proven when they’d been startled awake by it collapsing onto them while they slept about an hour ago. They hadn’t bothered setting it back up, though. Rather, they’d chucked it into the back of the car, opting to sleep under the sky instead, still pressed shoulder to shoulder as they had been in the just-to-small tent. But he hadn’t fallen back asleep yet. For nearly an hour, he stared up, listening to Liam and Amelia snore or mumble occasionally in their sleep. Frogs and crickets sang out, all around them. A warm night, just slightly windy. He counted the stars once, twice, thrice, until he lost count, over and over, trying to drown out the creep up his spine. Not unease, not anger, not quite numbness. He clenched clover-filled grass between his fingers.

Half a block away. So, so close to home—most accidents happen close to home. He wasn’t sure where he’d heard that. It sounded true. It felt true. Bad things always happen close to home. He heard it happen from the front door. Screeching. Crashing. Clattering. Screaming. A voice.

Bryce swallowed. He counted the stars again. He didn’t know any constellations but sought them out anyways.

He could hardly see her. A flash of torn blue. Warped plastic, forced into itself. Crunched metal. Glass shards glittered. The streetlights hid nothing. Above the haze of voices, he heard her gasping.

Fuck.

Her friend was shaking, scraped. The driver could hardly stand. Despite the early summer, a chill seized him.

Liam, rolling over, threw an arm out, smacking Bryce in the face. It forced a shaky breath from him, so suddenly wrenching him from his thoughts. Once he realized what’d happened, he shoved his arm off of him. Several moments later he rolled over himself, facing the trees, and shut his eyes.

“Right, you’d think that,” Liam said, “but that’s not what he did”

Amelia picked a glazed munchkin from the box between them. They idly soaked up the morning slowly, clustered around a teeny table in a rest stop dunkin.

“What else could he do?” She asked before popping it in her mouth.

“Double down.”

“Didn’t you just say he was completely wrong?” Bryce asked.

"Oh, yeah, totally,” He sipped his tea, “The book said he was wrong, but he didn’t care. He just started railing on us about it”

Amelia wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Why?”

“Cause he didn’t wanna be wrong? I don’t know. But he spent, like, half an hour arguing with us. He even gave one of my classmates detention over it.”

She raised a brow, “Really?”

“M-hm. I don’t think she actually went, though.”

“Wow,” Amelia paused a moment, then, “He sounds awful.”

“Yeah, he sucked,” He leaned back as Bryce sipped his coffee, “He was probably the worst science teacher I ever had. Like, he would fail you if he didn’t like how you did your notes”

Amelia hummed, perking up, “I had an english teacher like that. She’d make you rewrite your homework if she didn’t like your handwriting.”

“Must’ve been a bad class for you, then” Bryce quipped.

“You have no idea. I still have nightmares about it” She grimaced, chuckling a bit.

Wind whipped in through the open windows. It would, under any other circumstances, be hard to make out the music crackling through the speakers, but,

“Mamaaa, life had just begun!” Liam crooned along from the backseat, horrifically off-key, “But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away!”

Bryce held back a laugh, “At least sing it on key, ”

“No! That’s no fun, come on,”

“Oh my god—”

“Mamaa,” Amelia sang, a bit more subdued but just as pitchy, “oooh,” She glanced between the road, Bryce, and Liam. Liam brightened. Bryce all but buried his face in his hands. “Didn’t mean to make you cry,”

Liam joined her, “If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,” he leaned over the center console. Side-by-side, they nearly shouted, “Carry on! Carry on, as if nothing really matters,”

Bryce snickered, “I can’t go anywhere with you two,”

“Come on, you love us,” Amelia grinned at him.

“Maybe, when you can sing on key”

She reached over blindly to nudge at him, “You’re mean!” before launching back into the song with Liam. Bryce watched them, smiling slightly. He’d heard them both sing before, when making dinner or sweeping or flipping through the mail, melodies under their breaths. They weren’t quite so off-key, normally. Though in those cases, he supposed, they weren’t singing around fits of giggles either. And, during one such bout of laughter, when he chimed, a bit flat,

“So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye?”

Liam threw an arm around his shoulder. Amelia beamed, and the three of them sang into the afternoon, ringing out along the seemingly endless highway for all the world to hear.

“Would you rather…” Amelia tapped the steering wheel, thinking, “fight one bear-sized ant, or a hundred ant-sized bears?”

“Ant-sized bears” Bryce replied, almost off-handedly.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you just step on 'em.”

“But they have claws, they can attack you. Ants don’t have claws.”

Liam butted in, “What kind of ants do you mean, though? Some of them b—”

He was cut off by a loud thup-th-thump from the back of the car. They tensed, and when it continued, jolting the car as it drove along, Bryce’s heart lurched, uneasy.

Upon pulling over, though, the issue became clear enough.

“Shit,” Bryce grumbled. On full display before them, the rear right tire had been rendered flat as a pancake. Despite the simplicity of the issue, the slight unease in his chest stuck.

“No big deal, we can just replace it,” Amelia said confidently, turning to him, “Where’s your spare?”

“That is the spare,” he replied without looking up.

“Ah.”

They stood there for several moments, staring at it as though it might, by some miracle, reinflate. Cars breezed by, uncaring, filling the silence. When it became clear the issue wasn’t going to fix itself, Liam ducked into the car for his phone.

“How long have you been driving on it?” she asked.

“About a month”

She turned to Bryce once more, “You know you’re not supposed to do that, right?”

“I know”

“So…why?”

Now, the honest answer was simply that Bryce hadn’t gotten around to changing it, but,

He glanced at her, “Is there any answer that’ll keep you from chewing me out?”

“Not really, no”

“Then I don’t know” Bryce replied, looking back down at the tire. She sighed, only somewhat exasperated, luckily enough for him.

“Before you lecture him,” Liam said, popping back out of the car, phone in hand, “can one of you give me the number for the tow truck first?”

It took the truck about an hour and a half to get there, and another thirty minutes to drop them off at a garage. It would be at least twenty minutes before the mechanics would even be free to see their car, and even then it would take another ten to actually change the tire. They’d been a bit thrown off schedule, was the point. But, unlike the wait for the truck, which the three of them spent baking in the sun and, in Bryce’s case, getting just mildly chastised by Amelia for being unsafe, the garage sat right next to a strip mall, which they took to wandering through at their leisure. Most of the storefronts were fairly uninteresting: a craft store boasting a 50% sale on yarn, a dance studio through the windows of which they could spot a handful of kids stumbling their way through ballet, a shuttered antique shop that was nearly empty, it seemed, beyond a half-open box of ceramics, and so on and on. They drifted into a few shops but hardly stayed long enough to peruse, much less buy anything.

The unease in Bryce’s chest hadn’t left. Really, it’d been hovering over him all day, just enough to be noticeable, but the blow-out had far from soothed it. As he trotted around aimlessly, making idle chatter with Liam and Amelia, it seemed to curl its way down from his chest to the pit of his stomach, wriggling ever so slowly into a dreadful weight. He knew, despite the setbacks, that they’d likely still make it there by the end of the day. Stepping out of a pet shop, he tried to tune the realization out.

“I think we should’ve gotten that kitten,” Liam said, walking alongside Amelia a step ahead of him.

“I don’t think our landlord would let us have a pet,” Amelia replied, “he was pretty cute though”

They wandered up to a little flower shop, nearly bursting at the seams with blooms if the view through the window was any indication. Several bins of bouquets sat beside the door.

“We could’ve hidden him. That’s what I did when I was little”

Bryce slowed to a stop beside one of the bins.

“You had a cat?” Amelia asked.

“For a little bit, yeah. A little grey one. I called her Dusty”

They stopped, then, no longer hearing his footsteps.

“Bryce?” Amelia called back, turning. He didn’t reply, looking over the flowers, frowning slightly. Thinking. She came to his side, Liam not far behind.

“They’re pretty,” she said, after a moment. He hummed, half listening. Carefully, he picked up a bundle of bluebells and baby’s breaths, turning them over in his hands. The back half of the bouquets had wilted noticeably.

“Do you wanna get some?” she asked, gently. Bryce glanced at her. “For..”

“Yeah…” he said, “I think so?” he set them back in the bin just as gently as he’d grabbed them. His hand hovered slightly at the edge. “I don’t know”

He was almost sheepish—an odd look on him, in both Amelia's and Liam’s eyes. She looked out over her choices for a moment before reaching for a bunch in the center of the bin.

“Here,” Amelia held the bouquet out to him: a small assortment of iris and white chrysanthemums, “how about these?” He took them, vibrant and alive, in his hands.

“...They’re nice” he replied, smiling just slightly at her. She smiled back. The three of them trotted inside the cramped store and up to the till. But, when Bryce began fumbling for his wallet, Amelia set a hand on his arm.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, wallet already in hand. He didn’t get the chance to reply before she stepped up to the counter to pay.

It wasn’t until they began making their way back to the garage, side-by-side with her, that he said, warmly,

“Thanks, by the way”

And she grinned up at him once again, just as warm.

They did not, in fact, get there before the end of the day.

Bryce gripped the wheel a bit too tightly, staring out into the evening din at the red light. They’d left the music on autoplay, and it’d wandered its way from oldies to 00s alt to soft jazz, somehow, spilling from the speakers alongside Liam’s gentle snoring from the backseat. Glancing beside him at Amelia, she seemed on the brink of dozing off, too. He watched the light, taking deep breaths. The feeling in his gut had only gotten worse, bigger, threatening to crush him beneath the dread.

Caught between a rock and a hard place. Metal against her arms. Her chest. Her legs. Unyielding, sharp. Pinned like an insect. She could hardly squirm. She couldn’t speak. Just stare.

They were just outside Hartford. Twenty minutes out. Less than that, even. He hadn’t seen these streets in years, but somehow he still knew the path like the back of his hand. He wished he didn’t. He wished he didn’t wish that.

He met her eyes around the mess. Wide. Terrified. Desperate. Staring straight into him.

He wished the light would change. He wished it wouldn’t. He watched it, palms clammy, half seeing around the lump in his throat.

Friends and neighbours scrambled around them. She only looked at him.

Fuck. He couldn’t do this.

He said something, numbly. Whispery. Mumbling. Drowned out in the panic.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this.

He said something to her. He couldn’t do anything else.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. He had to turn around. He couldn’t do this. He—

“Hey,” Amelia knocked him out of it, nudging him, “light’s green.”

He struggled to swallow. The buzz in his head lifted just enough that he could acknowledge the little green dot hanging in his sight.

“Right,” he said. Steeling himself, he pulled ahead. Nobody had been behind him, thankfully. Liam had stirred, at some point, leaning to look at him. The music had stopped. The quiet drenched him like cold water. He went a little faster, filling the space with the low vrr.

“You alright?” Amelia asked eventually. He adjusted his grip on the wheel.

“M-hm” he replied, flat, staring dead ahead. He didn’t notice the look she and Liam shared, much too focused on pressing onwards. He couldn’t do anything else.

Bryce stood at the threshold. A short stone wall stretched on either side of him, moss-speckled. Beyond the first few rows, the streetlamps did little to light the plots. Cricket song once more filled the air, now gone humid. His legs felt like jelly. Like bricks. Too heavy to move. Too light to control. The flowers had wilted just a bit on the car ride here. He clutched them in his left hand. Amelia held his right hand loosely. Liam stood at his other side. They hovered there for a minute, unmoving. Liam set a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to if you’re not ready,” he said, “it’s fine”

Bryce took a deep breath. Without a word, he stepped forward, pulling away from them, past the wall, and into the cemetery itself.

He’d only actually visited once, following her burial, early in the morning with his mother, just before they’d stopped talking completely. Even still, he knew exactly where he was going, moving on autopilot past rows and rows of graves. A few had candles lit around them, while others were decorated with flowers or pictures or the occasional odd trinket. Others still were laid barren, unloved. Moss and weathering crept up the headstones, so much so on some that their names became no more than unreadable impressions on the granite. He turned right. It was almost hard to breathe. The grass had grown in long, lit mainly by the little lights from Liam and Amelia’s phones. Hardly any of these graves were decorated, though none were yet overgrown. It seemed to take ages, like the row grew longer with each step. Eventually, though, he stopped, one grave over from the edge. It, too, was undecorated, a few leaves having gathered on the headstone. After a moment’s deliberation, he reached out and brushed them off with forced-steady fingers.

Stella Hansen, it read. Dead exactly six years to the day. He set the flowers down and stepped back, hanging there just above her grave like a ghost. The dread was gone, somewhat. The weight remained, but it morphed into obtuse shapes, the names of which escaped him, moving senselessly through him. He remembered, last time he was here, how his mother had spoken: a curt, one-sided conversation, her shoulders stiff. He felt, now, that he should say something too. Some greeting, at least. Some talk about life. The scrips were there, in his head, for meetings with estranged family and friends he hadn’t seen since high school and any number of contexts he could try to slot his words into, but they refused to take form. He opened his mouth, and his throat went numb, language morphing and dying on his tongue.

The world seemed small, impossibly so. Bryce stood in a bubble, him and her and the sounds of night, where life and death seemed to blur until he was back at the accident, in the radio room, her eyes meeting his across the distance. Like she’d be able to hear him, somehow.

He stayed there until the numbness and weight grew too much and he stepped away, breaking back into reality. Turning, he walked off without saying a word, Amelia and Liam trailing behind him.

They sat on the hood of the car, shoulder to shoulder, parked in the near empty lot beside a worn-out epic burger, parking lines faded away and overrun with cracks. Yellow dandelions and little white clover blooms climbed up and spilled out across the pavement in clusters, soaking up the orange-y glow of streetlights in place of the sleeping sun.

“So I spent a few days feeding her, and eventually she let me get close to her,” Liam said. Hesitantly at first, both he and Amelia had taken to telling old stories to fill the dead air circulating around them. He gestured a bit with his cup, half-full with a sub-par chocolate milkshake.

“But when I tried to pet her for the first time? She bit me! Pretty hard, actually. I’ve still got a mark on my thumb from it”

“Is that what that is?” Amelia said, looking to the tiny scar on his hand.

“M-hm. I still kept feeding her, though”

It was appreciated, honestly, but Bryce was only half listening to them, peering down into the depths of the vanilla shake slowly but surely numbing his palms. His thoughts all wandered in the same direction.

He had a lot of things he wanted to say. They rushed to the forefront now, well after they’d driven off and Stella was out of reach to hear them, like a delayed reaction.

He didn’t move an inch until they’d finally gotten her free. Hands hovered over her. Distant sirens wailed. She couldn’t hear him screaming her name. He’d scrambled to life several seconds too late.

He wanted to chew her out, so badly. He wanted to rant and rave at Stella for everything she had done, how she’d left and taken the fragile stability of his life with her. He wanted to apologize for never mourning her, never visiting, spending years drowning thoughts of her in idle stressors. He wanted to tell her everything— everything: how bad new action movies looked, how expensive gas was, how her favourite band released another album, how his new boss was kinder, how there was an ant colony outside their building, how the weeds in the grass had grown in lush. About moving and losing and finding and living and breaking and dying and living again. He wanted to ask her if she’d be there, when he finally, actually, kicked it. He wanted her to say that she would. He wanted, needed, her to understand the space she left behind, sometimes expansive and sometimes so very small.

The cup crinkled, contorting in his grip. milkshake dribbled onto his fingers.

He wanted to remember her. He wanted to stop missing her.

“Bryce?” Amelia set a hand on his arm delicately, “What’s wrong?”

Liam leaned in closer at his other side. “Are you ok?”

He couldn’t see them clearly; he wasn’t sure when, but his vision had gone blurry, stinging. He opened his mouth to answer, but once more the words died on his tongue. What was he supposed to say? He hadn’t cried about it in years. But Liam took the cup carefully from his hands, and Amelia pressed a napkin firmly into his palms, and their voices were low, and warm, and palpable enough to pull the weight in his chest until his shoulders shook and his face was striped wet. They wrapped their arms around him tightly, murmuring, rubbing circles along his back. The first of few stars watched them overhead. Once more the world seemed to shrink. Bryce held them back just as tightly—tighter, even—letting Liam and Amelia fill in the gaps.

#this got a bit. out of hand #objectober #hfjone #objectober 2022 #bryce hfjone #liam hfjone #amelia hfjone #soda bottle hfjone #backpack hfjone #scenty hfjone #i edited this very sparsely at like 3am last night so if theres a bunch of little errors. mind your own business #writin and ravin #onehfj

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screamingatanemptyroom · 4 years ago

Text

Please Fix the Story pt 24 - Sci Fi

The battle with the Hive, and the traveler! Moving onto the end game after this. (Still will take a few parts, but the end is in sight!)

Masterpost linked here.

Enjoy!

_____________________________

The atmosphere in the conference room was tense.

“The numbers don’t look good.” General Gladus stared at the display with a frustrated sigh. “We just have the few Mechs stationed in the Fifteenth Sector. The Hive have a full colony… thousands of drones, directed by a Queen. They have already landed on the nearest moon, destroying the defense base there, and will be within striking distance of the planet in..." He rechecked his numbers. "Eighteen hours.”

Pointing his finger at the hologram, the display zoomed in on the larger dot surrounded by countless other smaller red dots. “The Queen is the key. She controls all the drones. If we take her out, we can halt the invasion long enough for true reinforcements to arrive.”

I nodded, trying to follow along. “So if we don’t have the numbers to defend the planet, we go on the attack and try to strike the Queen?”

“It can take a whole squadron to take out a Queen. “ He quickly put a damper on my excitement, frowning. “A normal Hive drone is the size of a human. She’s larger than two Mechs put together, around six stories tall, with armor to match.”

I thought about the story, what I knew about what technology was available years ahead… Hadn’t Chris gotten a special Mech to fight Queens? “What about a bigger Mech? Big enough to take on the Queen?”

The general paused at that. “The military engineers at the academy have been working on some prototypes… but the bigger a Mech is, the harder it is to control. In a few years we might have one that a single Guardian could operate, but the ones we have now? No one would have the capability…”

“I do.” I interrupted, speaking with certainty. “Let Liam and I try it.”

“Honey, I know you’re a Grade S Guardian, but…”

“I’m more than that. You remember that I almost destabilized? It was because of a sudden increase of my power” Because I’m not really your daughter. “I’m much more powerful than a grade S… “ I reached out and grabbed Liam’s hand. “And that’s not even to mention our 100% resonance match.”

Liam grinned, squeezing my hand. “Trust us, General. Alaira and I can fly anything they can build!”

The General stared at us, obviously unnerved at the idea of sending his daughter into the worst of the fighting. I reached out and grabbed his hand. “Trust me, Dad. I’ll make you proud.”

“…” He let out a long sigh. “I’m already more proud than I could ever be…” He rubbed his forehead. “Fine. Let’s see if you can work the thing… but if you can’t move it perfectly, then the plan gets canceled. I’m not sending you out there to die.”

“Thank you!” Awkwardly hugging him, I felt a twinge of guilt as he patted my back gently.

I wish your daughter could be here to feel your love and pride in her.

“Don’t celebrate too soon… Even if you’re big enough to take on a Queen, we still have to get you to her.”

I stepped closer to the display, studying it. “She’s directly in the center of the army… hiding away on the moon in the ruins of the defense base. With their numbers versus ours… we just don’t have the firepower to get there.”

Warning! Mission Failure Imminent!

As the blue writing and loud warning appeared only to me, I felt no fear, no terror at my imminent doom. It was now more annoying than anything else.

If you're not going to suggest anything helpful, then shut up!

Warning!...

SHUT UP! I screamed in my head, feeling a thread of shadowy power emerge from around me, erasing the words from existence.

The warning fell silent.

What… what was that? Some sort of magic? How much about myself is still hidden in my lost memories?

Enjoying the new silence in my head, I looked over at Liam who was staring at me with a worried look.

“Are you okay? You weren’t responding.”

I reached out, smoothing out his forehead, which was wrinkled with concern. “Yes. It’s difficult to explain, though. What did you say?”

“If we don’t have the troops to blast our way to the Queen, then what about a diversion?” He pointed at the area of the diagram between us and the Hive. “We act like we’re staging a frontal assault, and when they’ve deployed enough forces to weaken the rear, you and I strike from behind!”

The General nodded slowly. “It would take quite an attack to make the Hive divert forces to the front… Even if we threw everything we had and left nothing to protect you two, it might not be enough.”

I grinned. “Don’t worry about protecting us.” Grabbing Liam’s hand I added. “You forget who I matched with. We can handle our own defense. All that’s left is to figure out how to make a big enough distraction to give us a way in.”

“DID SOMEONE CALL FOR A DISTRACTION?!”

Princess Ilene pushed past the guards at the door with the two other girls in her group at her sides. “Sounds like a job for the Harem!”

Liam raised his eyebrow. Harem? He mouthed silently at me. I shook my head, not wanting to get involved.

Alaira’s father did not look impressed. “Princess. I don’t recall you showing any interest in military matters previously.”

“That’s before the Hive kidnapped Chris!” Ilene cracked her knuckles. “Now I gotta go crush some space bugs.”

Who says Chris was kidnapped?

“YEAH!" "We're going to save him!” The other two girls struck dramatic poses on either side of Ilene.

“…” The room stared at them in silence.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, wishing away my headache. “Princess, maybe this would work better if you explained to my father what skills you three brought to the table? “

“… I suppose.” She sniffed, gesturing at Wen grandly. “She has designed a Mech with the ability to tow 50 mini cannons.”

Wen grinned, explaining further. “The guns are strapped to a small engine, and will fly at evenly spaced intervals behind the controlling Mech. It’s still a work in progress… You can’t target, and you can’t control them individually… at least not yet.”

“But that’s still 50 extra shots for one Mech.” General Gladus looked much more interested. “How many have you made?”

“Just one, but if I add a small hologram projector to the guns, it will look like we have 50 fully operational Mechs with us! THAT should get the Hive’s attention.”

Ilene and Allie chimed in. “ We’ve already practiced piloting the Mech and can operate it smoothly.”

“… That… might just work…” He shrugged. “Strong work, Ladies…”

“We call ourselves the Harem… Alaira came up with the name!”

“Don’t credit me, please..”

The General glanced at my cringing expression and chuckled. “…Glad to have you aboard… I think.”

“All right!” The young engineer high-fived her companions, grinning proudly. “I was originally saving this invention for Chris, but now I’m going to use this to SAVE Chris!”

“YEAH!”

“…” The General was now staring at me with a look of consternation, to which I raised my hands helplessly. “…Sure.”

“So that’s the plan then.” I took a deep breath, calming the fast beating of my heart at the thought of the fight to come. “The Harem will distract the Hive, and Liam and I will take out the Queen.”

We’ll save the world.

We’ll complete my mission.

It will work… it has to.

“We’ll strike first thing in the morning.” General Gladus watched me with a worried gaze, but obviously held back from speaking further. “… Good luck.”

_____________________________

Liam and I tested out the massive Mech prototype called the “Queen Killer,” able to move it with an ease that shocked Alaira’s father and the engineers. After confirming the plan a final time, I returned back to my dorm to get some rest before the battle.

I found myself too keyed up to sleep, staring blankly at the ceiling. If we complete the mission, will I get all my memories back? Will I stay in this world or be forced to leave? Will Liam stay with me? My frantic thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock on my door.

Wary, I checked the security system, quickly opening the door once I realized who it was.

“Liam, what are you doing here? It’s still a few hours before we’re supposed to meet for the mission.”

Liam wrung his hands together, staring at the floor quietly. “I… was hoping…”

“What is it?”

“Can you come with me?”

At my nod he grabbed my hand and pulled me along. I started to ask where he was taking me, but seeing the determination on his face, fell silent. I didn’t feel any wariness, despite my lack of knowledge of our direction.

_____________________________

“Aren’t you scared?” A voice asked, coming from high above me.

“No.”

“Why not?” The despair in the voice was heartbreaking. “Everyone else is.”

“Because it’s you.” I grinned. “Can’t be scared of you, Liam.”

_____________________________

I blinked, my gaze once again resting on our clasped hands.

I’ll keep trusting you Liam.

He took me to the upper deck of the academy, a large platform surrounded by multiple gardens. In the dead of night, the multicolored flowers and trees were barely visible. Rather than a clear sight, it was a combination of the senses: of impressions of movement, of gentle sounds of the wind swaying the branches and leaves, of brief flashes of colors in the light of the multiple candles that lit up the platform.

In the center of the platform stood a minister, the elderly man looking tired but still smiling gently. Off to the side were the Harem girls, watching silently, and Alaira’s father who stood by with a combination of tears and joy.

The King and Queen were nowhere to be seen.

“This.is…” My voice trailed off, filled with awe at the sheer amount of work it must have taken to move everything up here from the ballroom we had planned it in.

Liam knelt down, holding my hand with a solemn look.

“Alaira... I don’t know if we’re going to survive this battle, but I know one thing: If I’m going to die tomorrow, I want it to be as your husband.”

His hands were shaking with nervousness as they held my own.

“Please marry me.” His words were simple, but they struck my heart with a force that made me sway on my feet.

_____________________________

“Please marry me.” A trembling man held me close.

_____________________________

I smiled at the thought that I had answered this question before. “Yes.”

Liam let out a sigh of relief, standing up and hugging me gently. “Thank you…” He hesitated. “Bel.” The name was spoken only for me to hear, sounding like a prayer.

“You realize we had already planned to get married today?” I chuckled. “You didn’t have to re-propose.”

“I needed to hear it again.”

With a wide grin, he led me over to the center of the platform. There, in front of friends and family, the minister led us through the vows. As I spoke the words, holding Liam’s hands tightly, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had done this multiple times before.

How many lifetimes have I already spent with him? How many times have we been married?

Liam leaned in to kiss me, the gentle movement the barest touch on my lips, and then hugged me tightly against him.

“I love you.” He whispered in my ear.

My father stepped forward and clapped us both on the shoulder. “Alright, kids, that’s enough excitement pre-battle. Go get some sleep. I’ll throw you a combination victory party and wedding reception once we survive the Hive.”

Laughing, Liam and I left the party behind. We were unable to sleep, and simply laid in each other’s arms. My head rested against his chest, hearing his heartbeat and breaths. Closing my eyes, I prayed that we would make it though this battle safely.

And just maybe, if we survive this, I’ll figure out how to get our memories back.

I thought of the shadowy power I had displayed to shut the system warning down, an ability I had tried to repeat without success several times since. I don’t know who or what I am… but I do know one thing:

I won’t accept my fate.

_____________________________

Soon it was time for the battle.

Liam and I boarded the Queen Killer Mech and flew it around the battle site, staying out of range of the Hive’s sensors. We floated in Space watching the holographic display from the Mech's communication system as the Harem and the few soldiers Alaira’s father had brought with him advanced from the front. It looked as if there were over a hundred Mechs, an intimidating site, but we knew it was just an illusion, holograms attached to remote guns. Their actual numbers were quite pitiful compared to the army in front of them.

We could only hope the Hive would fall for the trick.

“Advance!” The General’s voice came over the intercom. I felt myself tremble with nervousness at his serious tone. I wasn’t really his daughter. Most of the time I felt like the worst fraud when I was with him. But I genuinely cared for this gruff, strange man. He loved his daughter, and wasn’t afraid to take on the world to protect her.

I hope he makes it. I felt a sharp pain in my stomach at the thought that he might not.

But if we don’t fight, none of us will.

The army of Mechs, both real and fake, moved forward. As the Hive flew to meet them, I got a close look at them through my headset. I had seen their appearance in Alaira’s memories, but somehow, seeing them with my own eyes was all the more horrifying.

Large insects, each the size of a human, with a black and red exoskeleton that coated everything, even the wings. Enormous pincers grew outwards on their heads, sharp enough to tear a Mech open, to cut a human in half. Their dark, multifaceted eyes took in the space emotionlessly. They were unstoppable, insatiable. The Hive’s only goal was to devour, to destroy. They numbered in the thousands; enough to make even seeing the moon the Queen was hiding on difficult.

I felt a deep feeling of terror growing within me, fear and despair mixing, threatening to take away my reason.

It’s not my emotions.I tried to push down the feeling, but they continued to grow, trying to overwhelm me. It’s Alaira’s.

She had died there, next to that moon, surrounded by the Hive. Their pincers destroyed her Mech, pulled her out from the safety of the piloting sphere. She was overwhelmed, and even with the fracturing of her mind she knew she was doomed.

“Are you okay?” Liam’s voice in my ear calmed me down. “Your strong emotions are interfering with the Connection.” I took a deep breath, repeating silently.

You are not Alaira. You are not Alaira.

I knew exactly what it would feel like to die in battle with the Hive, though.

The Hive started swarming to the front, line. The Queen was directing them to defend her against the “larger” threat. There were only a few hundred left to guard the rear.

“It’s working!” General Gladus’ excited voice sounded out. “They’re falling for it.”

“Then we’ll get to work.”

“… Good luck, Alaira. I love you.”

I hesitated. “… I love you too… Father.”

It was time. I grabbed Liam’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Focus on your shield.”

He took a deep breath. “You know I can’t control it.”

“You can let me in, Liam. You are in control. Use it for its purpose: to protect yourself. To protect me.”

He closed his eyes, positioning himself behind me within the Connection chamber in the Mech. His hands were on my back, and through the physical touch I felt his nervousness. The air around the Mech seemed to shift, and I knew that I had to act quickly before the mental shield weakened.

I flew the Mech forward, quickly reaching the highest speed. At the noise of our passing one of the drones turned to face us. Soon they had swarmed around us, their pincers opened to attack.

FEAR.

Alaira’s emotions were running full force, but I pushed them down once more, going faster. I could feel Liam behind me, keeping the connection between me and the Mech easy despite its enormous size. We flew into the swarm, and the sturdy alien insects splattered against the mental shield, which held firm under the blows.

Liam and I sighed with relief.

“See? You CAN control it!”

“We still have the Queen to deal with.” Liam’s voice was worried, I could feel his concern though our connection. “She’s a little big to be squished by a shield.”

“Well that’s why we brought the big guns.” After a few more moments we broke through the Hive’s line of defense, and landed on the Moon, trying to locate the Queen.

“Where is she?” The scanners were starting to scramble, as if interrupted by an unknown signal. The Hive shouldn’t have that kind of technology, though.

“I don't see her on the Moon's surface. Has she left? First, let’s try the defense fort. It should be big enough to hide the Queen.” At Liam’s suggestion we flew forward, making our way to the building. The clear defense dome seemed intact, the computers opening an airlock, allowing us to pass forward after communicating with our Mech and confirming our identity.

“How would the Queen be here without destroying the dome?” I muttered, trying to scan the surroundings and noting that it was picking up several lifeforms, even if it was still too scrambled to give a clear location.

“ I don’t know, but I don’t think that hole was there before.” Liam tapped my back, and I looked towards the Hanger, the largest building in the complex. A six story hole had been torn out of the front wall. Wary, I moved the Mech closer, ducking down and entering the main area, which was fortunately tall enough to accommodate our oversized Mech.

The area was mostly lit up, a few of the florescent lights sparking and flickering from recent damage. The few Mechs that had remained had been torn to shreds and tossed in a pile. The space was wide-open, extending outwards into shadows.

“What the…?” My voice trailed off in shock as I stared at the unbelievable sight in front of me.

In the center of the hanger stood the Queen. She was bright white with red and black markings along the side of her rotund torso. She brandished hundreds of spiky claws like a millipede, with large bright red wings extended behind her. Towards the top she sported multiple large pincers, with a final one extending from her head. Her eyes glowed with a bright white light, staring at us with fury.

She was frozen into place, unable to make a single movement.

“What is going on?” I whispered to Liam.

“Bel, you actually made it this far!”

A cheerful voice rang out, causing both of us to groan with frustration. A Mech emerged from the shadows, we couldn’t see the pilot, but Liam and I knew who it was and spoke his name together.

“Chris.”

“I keep telling you, it’s not Chris.” The voice coming from the Mech seemed annoyed, the large robot swinging a sword back and forth. “As always, you two are wrong.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, clenching my fists at my side within the Connection Chamber of our Mech.

“Exactly what I told you, Bel: I’m ending this.” He lifted up his Mech’s free hand, and in it was a large bomb blinking with a bright red light. A single red button marked the trigger, and I tensed up as he caressed it lightly with a large metallic finger.

“That’s a uninite bomb.” Liam spoke up. “You’d destroy the moon with one that big! You'll kill us all with the Queen!”

“Exactly! I’m willing to sacrifice whatever it takes to save everyone. Not like you… monster.” He spit out the last word, his voice filled with hatred. “I’m the HERO. I’m the one who everyone cares about. I’m the one SHE SHOULD LOVE!”

“Oh, SHUT UP!” I activated the opening on our Mech, and slid down a cord to the ground, pulling off my helmet to reveal my face. The air inside the defense shield was slightly stale but breathable.

Liam was startled, jumping down to stand beside me. “Bel, wait!”

“It’s okay.” I grinned at him. “Trust me.” The Mech straightened up behind us, falling into a standby position. I looked up at the Mech controlled by the Pseudo-Chris.

“If you’re going to threaten me and insult my husband, then do it to my face.”

“Nice try. If I leave the Mech, I can’t control it. All you’ve managed to do is to give away your only advantage!” He laughed confidently. “I am in control, Bel. The Hive, the Queen… all of it! I’m the only one who can save your soul from destruction.”

“You brought the Hive here… you’re the one who advanced the story so quickly.” I paused, thinking it over. “How come you can go against the story? I always get warnings whenever we stray too far away from our characters.”

“You don’t understand. You never have. All that matters is that the roles are obeyed, that we follow our fate. I may have taken a… detour… but in the end I will fulfill my role as a hero, and save everyone, at the cost of my own life.”

“Why are you doing this?” Liam growled, standing close to me.

“He was hoping that I would give up.” I answered for him calmly, staring up at the Mech with a disgusted expression, “He made a seemingly impossible situation, hoping I would see accepting my fate as my only option.”

I thought of the system's warning that I had no chance of survival. They had tried to manipulate me. Tried to force me to do what they wanted.

But I hadn't.

“You see things so clearly sometimes, Bel.” Chris’ voice showed his approval. “And even though it didn’t work, I can still just end things here. I’ll destroy the Queen, which will complete your mission. The system can erase your memory again and we’ll start over.”

I felt a sense of fear at his words. How many times has this already happened?

“No matter how many times we have to do this, there will only be one outcome in the end: you will accept your fate.”

_____________________________

“You will accept your fate, Bel.” The young handsome man stared at me with disappointment. “You can’t keep hiding with this monster forever.”

“He's not a monster. Besides, you’re the one who sent me to Liam.” I grinned. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

“It was temporary. You were supposed to be his prisoner.” He snapped. “Now, because of you, he’ll be the first to be destroyed. You can’t distort the higher realm. Everything depends on it.”

“It’s not right…”

“It’s the reality of our roles. Now enough stalling. What will you choose? Will you follow the rules, or will you let everything be destroyed to protect your precious independence?”

“No…”

“Even you can’t be that selfish.” He growled, reaching out to grab my arm painfully. “Accept your fate, Bel.

“NO!”

_____________________________

“NO!” I shook my head, clearing aside the memory. “No matter how many times you ask me. No matter how many worlds you drag me through. No matter how many times my memory is wiped. I WILL NOT ACCEPT IT!”

“Fine. Then it’s time to move to the next world…” His Mech raised its hand holding the bomb.

“You’re pathetic.” My words were quiet, but seemed to echo in the otherwise silent hanger. “Even when we were in the higher realm you were always trying to trick and scheme to get things to go the way you wanted. You thought by forcing me to Liam’s side as his ‘prisoner’ you could force me to accept my fate, but that backfired too, didn’t it?”

“… “ There was a long stunned silence.

“You… you remember?” The Mech’s head shook back and forth in a jerky movement. “No, your memories were wiped!”

I quickly thought through the few memories I had experienced over the last few weeks. “You wanted me to play my part… but I didn’t want to be in a romantic relationship with you. I would solve things my own way, which pissed you off.”

“YOU… NO! YOUR MEMORIES ARE GONE!” The whole Mech was shaking slightly.

“No matter the realm, no matter the roles we play, one thing remains constant: you’re a pathetic loser.” I smiled. “And I like Liam more than you.”

“HE’S A MONSTER! YOU CAN’T LOVE HIM! YOU HAVE TO LOVE ME!”

“Bel…” Liam whispered. “You realize you’re making the unstable man with the bomb angry, right?”

“Trust me, I have a plan… probably.”

“Oh, good.”

I looked up at the Mech, raising my voice. “I’ll never love you!”

“YOU HAVE TO!”

“Get used to disappointment, loser.”

The Mech was shaking more violently as he whispered hoarsely. “Y-you’re lying… you have to be. You don’t have your memories…”

I AM lying. “Too bad for you I’m telling the truth. I remember everything important.”

“…Then what’s my name?”

I spread my hands out helplessly. “Oh buddy, I just said I remembered everything IMPORTANT.” I leaned forward. “You were never important to me. You still aren’t.”

“SHUT UP! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!” The Mech was rocking back and forth with his screams and then suddenly became very still.

“Got him!” I pumped my fist in the air victoriously.

“What’s… what’s happening?! I can’t control my Mech!”

I chuckled at his panicked tone.

“You see, there’s a difference between you and me. You might be the hero, but I’m the one with greater than Level S Guardian abilities. In fact, you used that very trait of mine to try to force me to partner with you. It was a burden before I formed a Connection with Liam, but now?” I reached over and grabbed Liam’s hand. “It makes things really easy. One of the skills I’ve practiced was controlling Mechs from a distance.”

“That’s…”

“Impossible? Only if you’re weak. The distance makes things challenging but it’s still fairly simple for me.” I paused. “By the way, I WAS lying earlier. I needed you to have strong emotions to disrupt your Connection with your Mech so I could take it over.”

“…” Enjoying his stunned silence, I gestured, controlling the “Queen Killer” Mech to step forward.

“Now I could let you blow yourself up and kill the Queen to complete the mission, but unlike you, I don’t feel any satisfaction out of sacrificing myself or others needlessly. I’m also not going to let you die, because I have a feeling that could have negative effects on this world.”

The Queen started moving, whatever restraints the pseudo-Chris had placed on it obviously released. I could feel her anger at being obstructed in her mission. Her overwhelming need to consume life and move on drove her constantly, and even the briefest of pauses enraged her. Her hungry eyes focused on me, sensing a threat.

I released all my abilities to the limit, feeling a light throbbing headache at controlling two Mechs at once, and one of them being the large Queen Killer.

“It’s time for this story to end.” I whispered, feeling satisfaction as the giant robot pulled out a sword and brandished it.

“My mission will be completed.” The sword tore a huge rent in the Queen’s side, spilling green blood. The insect queen screamed in rage and pain, her pincers tearing off some of the armor on the Mech’s arm.

“The world will be saved.” A second strike hit, cutting off several claws. The Queen clamped onto the Mechs’ chest with her mandibles, trying to burrow into the center. I was glad I wasn’t in the suspension gel, feeling the pain of the attack.

“And it will all be done without you.” My Mech swung the sword downward, and the Queen’s head separated from its body. It still clamped onto the chest of the robot, its eyes’ light slowly fading away.

“NOOOO!” Pseudo Chris screamed out, but it was too late. The Queen was dead. Her army would become useless.

The world was safe.

A beautiful chime rang out, and bright blue words formed into the air.

Congratulations!

Mission 100% complete.

**** You have finished the mission! ****

Stay in this world?

YES/NO

“It doesn’t matter if you completed the mission or I did. I still have the next world, and the next and the next!” The Mech was still frozen into place, but it didn’t stop his angry words. “Time is on my side!”

I sighed. “No. It’s not.” As I had completed the mission, I felt a strange surge of power. A similar sensation to when I had stopped the system voice from speaking earlier. I focused carefully, and a shadowy power poured out in the world around me, much stronger than before.

“Bel?” At Liam’s worried question, I turned and smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, Liam. It’s just time to change the game.” He grabbed my hands and nodded silently at my words, supporting me.

I turned my attention to the System’s message.

“We will not stay in this world any longer.” The shadowy power around me increased.

…

WORLD TRANSFER FAILED. UNKNOWN INTERFERENCE.

“Oh, that’s just me. You see… this world’s victory was all I needed to finish piecing together my soul.”

…

“I really do remember everything now.”

And I did. Who I was. Why I had made the deal I had made.

“I fixed every world you sent me to. Without memories. Without my protected status as the heroine. Just a hated side character or villain. Admit it… I won.”

… NOT YET.

“You’re right. There’s still one last story to be fixed.” I grinned at Liam, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. “The Higher Realm.”

Our world.

YOU MUST ACCEPT…

“I must do nothing.” The dark power that surrounded me erased the blue words in the air before they could form that hated sentence. “YOU must transfer us back. Back to the beginning.”

…

“Do it.” I gave no room for argument.

…

WORLD TRANSFER INITIATED. LOCATION: THE HIGHER REALM.

“I love you Liam.” I hugged him tightly. “Let’s get married one last time.”

“I love you too… But what do you…?”

TRANSFER COMPLETE.

#writing #please fix the story #writeblr #sci fi #violence #memory loss #the end is near

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sfb123 · 4 years ago

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The Final Goodbye - Chapter 2

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Description: In a slight canon divergence from book 2, Riley reaches her breaking point with the engagement tour and decides to restart her life when the court gets to NYC. Can the rest of the group clear her name, and convince her to come back before it’s too late?

Catch Up Here

Rating: PG (I think there are a few swear words in there, very angsty, but otherwise pretty mild)

Word Count: 1,299

A/N: I am so incredibly humbled by the response I got from chapter 1 last week. I don’t think it’s been much of a secret that I’ve been kind of down on my writing and myself in general the last couple of weeks, but the overwhelming love that you all have sent to me via your reblogs, comments, and messages this week has truly warmed my heart and meant the world to me. Thank you so, so much for your support.

Again, I have to mention my fandom soulmate (yea, I’m just going to start calling you that always now, because you are) @jessiembruno. Your support and encouragement has been monumental in getting me out of my funk, and I will forever be grateful and in your debt for all you have done for me. Even if it’s just keeping me company via zoom while I do my nails for 2 hours!

Shout out to @emkay512. This doll face reached out on Friday and is an absolute sweetheart. We got to talking, and she mentioned that today is her birthday, so I would like to dedicate today’s chapter to her! Happy birthday beautiful, and I apologize in advance for further breaking your heart on your special day.

Tags: Listed below. If you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

When Riley finished her song, the entire bar erupted into uproarious applause as she hurried off the stage, the entire bar minus one table. Riley’s group of friends were completely silent. Maxwell, Drake, and Hana shot each other concerned looks before turning to Liam. He was staring at a now empty stage, they could all see that he was trying to keep his expression neutral, but that proved to be difficult with a single tear rolling down his cheek.

Drake placed a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his daze. “Li, are you alright buddy?”

Liam cleared his throat and shook his head, looking over at his friend. “Yes...yea, sorry. She has an amazing voice, doesn’t she?”

“The best. She’s our very own diva!” Maxwell said in an upbeat tone, trying to remind everyone that they were supposed to be having fun. “Where did our little Mariah run off to?” He started looking around the bar to find her.

“She probably just went to the bathroom. I’ll go check on her.” Hana got up from the table and headed toward the ladies room at the back of the bar.

Liam rested his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. All he could think about was the hurt in her eyes as she looked at him from the stage, pouring her heart out to him. He couldn’t help but feel like that song was more than just a way to vent her frustrations at their current situation. He didn’t need to say a word for his friends to know exactly what he was thinking.

Drake was the first one to speak up. “Listen Liam, it was a really bad day for her. She had to pick up Madeleine’s wedding ring, it was kind of a mind fuck for her.”

His head snapped up at the information he had received. “She what?!”

“Yea, Madeleine sent her. She said she needed to do it as a thank you for letting Riley come on the tour and be in your life.” Maxwell added.

Liam’s expression immediately hardened as his hands clenched into fists. “I can’t believe Madeleine would…”

“Um...guys, she wasn’t there.” Hana interrupted. All three of them turned to look at her with wide eyes.

Liam felt his chest tighten as he jumped out of his seat. “What do you mean she wasn't there? Where did she go? We have to find her!”

As Liam turned to head for the door, Maxwell grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Liam, hold on. She probably just went back to the hotel. Letting that much emotion out in front of all of these people, in front of you, it had to have been exhausting.”

“Well I need to go talk to her then.”

“Liam, don’t. If she ran out of here like that, she wants to be alone. I know Brooks well enough to know that if she wants to talk, she’ll come to you. Showing up at her door isn’t going to fix anything right now.” Drake patted the seat next to him, encouraging Liam to sit back down.

“Fine, but I’m going to need another drink.” Liam slumped into the seat next to Drake and ran a hand through his hair.

The next morning, Drake was heading in the direction of Riley’s room when he heard Liam calling out to him. He turned to see his friend lightly jogging to catch up to him. “Hey Liam, how’d you sleep?”

“I didn’t. I spent all night convincing myself not to rush to Riley’s room to talk to her.”

They walked together as another voice filled the hallway. “Liam, darling.” They both cringed and turned around to see Madeleine at the other end of the hall with her hands on her hips. “We are needed for the final preparations.”

“Madeleine, I’m in the middle of something. I will meet you there.” He stood tall, and took a deep breath. He still hadn’t confronted her about the errand she had sent Riley on, but that conversation would be happening very soon.

Madeleine arched an eyebrow and walked quickly and confidently in their direction, stopping in front of Liam with her arms folded across her chest. “Sweetheart, you are needed to prepare for our wedding shower. What am I supposed to tell everyone when I arrive on my own? Do what you will with her in your free time. This is our time, I cannot have you missing important meetings for her. That’s not how this works.”

“She is more important than any meeting that will ever come across my calendar, especially any meeting involving you.” He sneered at her before turning to Drake. “Tell her I came by. And let me know if there is anything I can do.”

“Of course, man.” Drake clapped Liam on the shoulder and watched as Madeleine linked her arm through Liam’s and walked away.

As Liam and Madeleine headed to the elevator, they passed Maxwell, the friends exchanging sad looks.

“Hey Drake, how’s our girl holding up?”

“Don’t know, that interrupted us before we could get to her.”

“Well, let’s go cheer her up. I’ve got some great news!” He bounded toward Riley’s room.

“What do you mean? What kind of news?”

Maxwell turned to him as he began to knock on the door. “We found Tariq!” Drake’s jaw dropped and he stared at Maxwell in shock, as he continued to knock on the door, not getting a response from Riley. “Little Blossom, rise and shine. We’ve got a big day ahead of us!” He turned his attention back to Drake. “This is weird, she’s usually at least yelling at me to go away by now.”

That comment gave Drake an uneasy feeling in his stomach, he pushed Maxwell aside and began banging on the door. “Come on Brooks, let us in.” A couple of neighboring doors opened as angry heads popped out of them, glaring at the early morning intrusion.

“What is the meaning of this commotion? This is a nice hotel, not a frat house!” Maxwell stiffened at the sound of his brother’s voice. Drake continued his assault on the door.

“Bertrand! Um...hi. Riley’s not answering the door. She had a late night, she’s probably still asleep.” Maxwell stumbled through his words.

Bertrand closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maxwell, do you have the spare key to her room?”

“Oh, right! I forgot about that.” He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a key card for the room and handing it to Drake. “Here, use this.”

Drake shook his head and snatched the card out of his hands. “Brooks, we’re coming in. You’ve been warned. I don’t want to see anything I’m not supposed to.”

They opened the door and entered her room, walking through the sitting area, the bedroom, and then the bathroom. Riley was nowhere to be found. Her bed looked untouched, and it was too early for housekeeping to have come through.

The three men discussed how best to move forward from here. They were in New York, so Riley was already home, they knew she wouldn’t try to fly out anywhere. But they also knew that they needed to get to LA to track down Tariq and get him to make a statement before he found out they were on his trail and disappeared again. Drake and Maxwell hesitantly agreed to meet up with Hana and take Liam’s jet to LA to get Tariq, while Bertrand went in search of Riley, to talk her into returning. All three agreed it was best not to tell Liam that Riley was missing. He was already dealing with enough, and Riley’s performance the night before had taken quite a toll on him.

Permatag:

@anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emkay512 @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @pixie88 @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

The Final Goodbye:

@ao719 @burnsoslow @busywoman @ladyangel70 @mainstreetreader @tessa-liam

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612

@choicesficwriterscreations

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holycatsandrabbits · 3 years ago

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Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 5

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Chapter 5

CW: blood

This chapter has 2 versions: a T-rated one here on Tumblr and an E-rated one on Ao3. The plot is the same, but there’s smut on the Ao3 version.

1999 (Two years later)

The second inhuman creature Liam met was named Bennett, and Liam liked him about as much as he liked sand in his socks. Bennett was tall and thin, with a pretty face and a predatory look in his eyes that completely spoiled it.

Liam was walking across campus on an unseasonably cold night (for Florida) and now that he’d come upon a vampire, he was glad for the light scarf he’d wound around his neck. Bennett fell into step with Liam as if they were old friends. “Looking for Kurt,” he said. “Heard around town that you know him.”

“Sorry, I can’t help you.”

Bennett peered at him more intensely, and when Liam recoiled a little, Bennett grinned. “Guess you’ve spent enough time with him to know what I am. So, uh— how good of friends are you? Cause I should tell you I really picked you out by the fact that I can smell him on you.”

Liam decided he was not going to think too hard about that one. “Was there something you needed?”

“Just want to catch up with him. Been a while.”

“Well, I’m sure he knows you’re here.”

Bennett looked confused. “How would he know that?”

“I have no idea how he does it. In any case, if he wants to see you—”

Kurt’s voice cut in, startling Bennett. “I don’t, particularly. But neither do I wish Liam to have to deal with this.”

Kurt was ahead of them on the sidewalk, a shadowed shape sitting on a half-wall by the library. Liam recognized him easily by the fact that it was difficult to decide exactly how large of a person was sitting there in the dark, as the outline of him seemed to shift restlessly. Kurt’s voice fell low, and almost seemed to ripple the air around them. “Get away from him.”

Bennett took several steps back, and Liam wasn’t sure whether Kurt had used his mental powers to compel him into moving, or if he’d just scared the man badly enough. Kurt stood up off of the wall and stepped in between Liam and Bennett. “What do you want?” he asked.

Bennett was cringing. “Look, man— if you can just give me a drop. I’m in trouble, pissed off some guys. I’ll pay you. Anything. I can get you whatever you—” Bennett’s voice trailed off and his eyes grew wide, terror growing on his face. Abruptly he turned and ran, disappearing into the dark.

When Kurt turned back to Liam, he looked completely normal. For Kurt, anyway. So only a tiny bit terrifying, if you looked closely enough around the eyes.

“A drop of what?” Liam asked. He started heading for home again, and Kurt joined him, watching Liam intently, assessing him. Liam didn’t comment on it. He’d learned that protests of his well-being were useless when Kurt was worried about him, that Kurt would perform his own examination and be satisfied only with that.

“My blood,” Kurt said finally, when his analysis had apparently ended. “A drop of it can heal humans’ wounds, and although I’ve never tried it on a vampire, I imagine it would make them stronger. They sometimes come asking for it. I’ve just never found one who wanted it for a good reason.”

Liam was not in the habit of asking Kurt a lot of questions, largely because it was more comfortable sometimes not to know an answer, and Kurt seemed to make a practice of telling Liam the truth. Liam decided to ask anyway. “So, how did you know I’d met your, ah, friend there?”

“I know what happens to you,” Kurt said.

Liam watched him for a second, doing his own assessment. “You know I’m going to accuse you of mind reading.”

Kurt turned and met his eyes, an odd expression on his face that looked a little like bewilderment and a little like a reluctant confession. “I don’t need to. I just know. Listen, Liam, are you busy tonight?”

“You don’t have plans with Jonah?”

“No, he’s out with friends.”

“Ah. Did you get a chance to—”

“I’ll eat when he gets home, if he’s up for it.” Kurt was looking at him curiously, probably because Liam didn’t usually call attention to the fact that Kurt’s lovers provided him with blood. “Do you want to head to Tollense?” Kurt asked. “It’s midnight in Germany. Site should be deserted.”

“Are you remembering something about your origins?” Liam asked.

“I’m not sure.”

Liam nodded and Kurt slipped a hand under his elbow. Their next step brought them down into a darkened river valley. The grass would be green in the sunlight, but under the stars it ran gray and then faded to black in the distance. The Tollense River was more of a sound than a sight right now, the pleasant noises of gently moving water emerging from a dark void.

It was actually warmer in Germany that night than Florida, and Liam unwound his scarf. He sat on the grass and looked up at the clear night sky.

“I think there was a bridge,” Kurt said.

“Makes sense,” Liam told him. “A bridge is a natural place for a battle. People would want to be in control of movement through a strategic point.” Liam tried to imagine the valley as it had looked three thousand years earlier, during a large-scale Bronze Age battle that historians had once thought impossible in this sparsely populated area. Kurt had been here then, young and vulnerable and a great many other things that he would never again be.

“I’m pretty sure I was on a boat under the bridge,” Kurt said. “I remember people falling, and some of them landed in it.” Kurt dropped onto the grass beside Liam. “And I was still looking for that same person that I can’t remember.”

“That’s not bad for three thousand years ago,” Liam said.

“I don’t remember dying,” Kurt said. “You’d think that would be a memorable event.”

“Are you sure you did?” Liam asked.

Kurt looked pensive, and Liam wanted to tell him that he could let go of all of it, the human mask that he tried so hard to keep on, that it wouldn’t frighten Liam to see him as he really was. But Liam wasn’t entirely sure that was true, and he was certain that it would break Kurt’s heart to think Liam was afraid of him.

“You still think I’m not a vampire,” Kurt said.

“Maybe. I mean, yes, you drink blood, but your powers are different, your blood is different, and if you never died—”

“I have the scars from the arrows in my chest. At some point, I must have been vulnerable to weapons.”

“Well, you were human. And now you’ve— changed.”

“There’s something else,” Kurt said. “It’s happened on our last three trips here.” He pointed, and Liam looked, but all he could see was the occasional glint of starlight reflected in the river. “There’s a dog,” Kurt said.

That was not what Liam had been expecting. “A dog.”

“Yeah. A large white dog. I thought he was real until I realized you don’t see him. And also, he’s got six eyes. I couldn’t see him well enough at first to notice that, but he comes closer now.”

Liam fought a little shiver. Surely with Kurt by his side he was in no danger from a spectral dog. And anyway, if Kurt thought there was danger, he’d have Liam nowhere near it.

“Six eyes,” Liam mused. “You know, in Proto-Indo-European mythology, there was sometimes said to be a three-headed dog guarding the underworld.”

“He’s just got the one head.”

“Yes, but he’s got enough eyes for three.”

“I suppose so.” Kurt sounded amused. “But why would a dog from the Underworld be appearing to me?”

“I’ll do some research.” Liam lay back on the grass, alone in a field at night with the first inhuman creature he’d met, and this one was not pathetic and frightened but incredibly dangerous and also quite sweet. Liam decided he’d like to ask another question. “Does it hurt? When you drink blood from someone?”

“No. Well, yes, but I convince them it doesn’t.” Kurt lay down too, but on his side, looking at Liam. “Actually— I usually make it feel nice.”

“Nice.”

“Very nice.”

Liam turned to look at him. Kurt’s eyes were glowing faintly in the dark. “Oh. You mean— nice.”

“Listen, Liam— you and I—” Kurt frowned, almost seeming nervous, which was not a common look for him. “When I drink blood from someone, we form a connection. Something that ties them to me, lets me know if they’re all right or in trouble. I’ve wanted that with you, for a long time. Because we’re— we’re close. But the thing is, it’s been happening anyway.”

Kurt was losing his human disguise a bit. His shape in the darkness was shifting about again. “I know where you are, and what’s happening to you. I know if you’re sick, if you’re hungry. I know when you get those damned threatening letters because they scare you.”

“Why?” Liam whispered.

“I don’t know.” Kurt looked honestly confused. “But you and I already share a greater intimacy than I’ve shared with anyone in a very long time. If I drank from you— we’d be even closer. Is that something that you would want?”

“Yes.”

Kurt was assessing him again. “You’re scared.”

“Not of you.”

“If we do this— whatever you’re scared of might not remain your secret.”

Liam felt a little wetness in his eyes. “I don’t think it’s a secret now.”

Kurt lay there looking at him for another moment, and then he sat up. Liam started to sit up as well, but Kurt put a gentle hand on his shoulder and Liam lay back down. Kurt’s hand trailed down his arm to grasp his wrist, holding him loosely, as if Kurt wanted him to have a last chance to pull away.

Liam did not pull away, and Kurt raised Liam’s wrist to his mouth. The bite was painless. To Liam it felt like a kiss, the soft, warm press of Kurt’s lips against his skin, and there was only a sort of odd lightheadedness that made him realize he was losing blood.

After a moment, Kurt raised his head, and there was a touch of color to his lips, a sort of stain in the darkness. “Do you want the full show?” he asked.

“Seems a shame to miss out,” Liam answered.

*********

Read the E-rated ending on Ao3 or continue for the T-rated ending. The plot is the same, but there’s smut on the Ao3 version.

**********

Kurt lowered his head again, but this time instead of biting, he licked at what blood had welled up on Liam’s wrist. Liam found himself floating in a daze, where every movement of Kurt’s lips or tongue brought him further into bliss. He felt the bite this time, and it was the perfect sting of pain to make the pleasure seem even sweeter. Liam moaned, and he heard Kurt make some sort of light growling noise in return.

The night and the stars seemed to fade away and there was only Kurt. Liam felt dizzy and entranced, his body and mind not his own, as Kurt drank his blood and gave him this pleasure as reward.

While Kurt sat unaffected above him.

It ended before Liam could really understand what a bleak thought that was, that he was alone in this ecstasy, not wrapped in his lover’s arms. He felt Kurt’s mouth move away from his wrist. The bliss gently ebbed away, letting Liam settle back into himself as he lay there on the grass. And yet Kurt was not gone. Liam could feel him inside, close and warm. Not in a sexual way, not anymore. But there was the realization that Kurt had felt Liam’s moment of reluctance and responded to it, maybe not understanding why it was there, but accepting it nonetheless.

Kurt lay down again, so that he could look into Liam’s eyes. He still had hold of Liam’s hand, and he’d laced their fingers together.

“Wow,” Liam said.

Kurt smiled, looking both pleased and sad. Or maybe Liam could tell that Kurt was feeling both pleased and sad. Liam, for his part, felt dizzy and a little cold, and Kurt pulled him close, resting Liam’s head against his shoulder. Liam fell asleep that way, on a battlefield three thousand years old, in the arms of a man who might have died there or perhaps could never die at all.

*******************

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Updates Fridays on Ao3 and DannyeChase.com (rated E), and Tumblr (rated T)

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

My Carrd

#Dannye writes #original fiction #serial fiction #tollense #vampires #romance

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teamhook · 4 years ago

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The Perfect Man :: Birthday Fic

Hello all! This story was written for the lovely amazing @searchingwardrobes for her birthday.

Story beta-ed by @ultraluckycatnd

FFN

AO3

Killian finds his way back to Granny's. The encounter with the three men has left him even more curious about Emma. She must be a special lass to have the attention and affection of so many men. Either that, or she was a siren, or perhaps she has bewitched them.

Killian is a perceptive man and he has a feeling in his gut that something is off. He had considered asking the men about Emma, but they had their hands full with their own issues.

Emma and the girls had finished practicing at the Blanchards’. Mary Margaret had gotten a call from David and they were getting all lovey-dovey. Emma left so they could have privacy, because there were things she never wanted to know about her brother.

She sits down on an old swing just taking in the scenery. She is having so much fun being Leo. She feels free; she doesn't have to be herself. Sometimes, the pressure from her family gets to her. David is the golden son. He is perfect and once he marries MM, his approval rate will be even higher. David’s currently away completing his training to be a Deputy Sheriff. That was one of the reasons she had agreed to date Sheriff Humbert, but that had not worked out. She knows the good Sheriff still has hope that she will come to her senses and give him another chance, but that is very unlikely. She misses both of her brothers and she hates feeling jealous of her brother James. She is so much more like him than David. She hopes to someday flee the little town just as he had. Small town, big hell. Her brother had craved to go out and conquer the world, so he left them behind and occasionally checked in, mostly with David; it must be a twin thing.

Then her thoughts traveled to Jones. She still has no idea why she flaked the moment she met him and gave him a fake identity. Once she realized who he was and why he was in town, she should have come clean and confessed, but her embarrassment clouded her mind. That, and he has very pretty eyes and luscious lips. She had gotten distracted by his looks. She has met good-looking men before, but there is something different about him. Maybe it was the fact that he appears to be well-traveled and experienced. She looks down at her watch. Perhaps if she goes home and changes quickly, she can finally apologize to him for making him travel to Storybrooke because of her dumb luck.

Killian was about to get ready for bed. His time in Storybrooke was coming to an end soon. Part of him is saddened by the thought, and the other part is upset because it appears Emma Nolan will remain a mystery. That thought surprisingly makes his heart hurt. There’s a soft knock on his door, one he almost misses. He can't imagine who it could be. The only people that know of him in the small town are the Nolan siblings. He opens the door and the first thing he sees is the most vibrant green orbs he had ever laid his eyes on. Long blonde wavy hair, with a dimpled chin graced by a hesitant smile on red full lips. He has seen many beautiful women in his life, but this one renders him speechless.

"Hello, I'm Emma Nolan." She pauses for a second. "Leo, my brother, passed on your message. I'm sorry you had to travel so far because of my very idiotic lack of attention. I was supposed to send an invitation to your family, not to cause any trouble. I'm sorry about Miss Blue as well. She can be difficult, but she meant no harm."

Killian raises his hand to pause her ramblings. "Lass, I'm sure it was an accident. However, my brother lacks any sense of humor. He is very uptight and an overbearing arse. Would you like to come in?"

Emma looks behind him and blushes as she notices the bed is ready for him. "Oh, no thank you. I just wanted to apologize in person. Leo said you were very nice, and I’ve been busy with school, and I wanted to come by earlier. I did, but I kept missing you."

"It's no problem. I'm sorry we had missed each other." He scratches behind his ear. "I stopped by your home earlier to chat with your brother, but I was told he wasn't home."

"Oh, yeah, did you want me to let him know?" Emma asks.

"Well, I would love to see him before I leave."

"Are you leaving so soon?"

He smiles. "I will be departing the enchanting town of Storybrooke in a couple of days. I just wanted to thank him for being so helpful."

She nods. "I will let him know." She winces. "I hate to ask, but would you please reconsider not withdrawing the support your family offers the school in donations because of my fault? That would help me avoid Miss Blue's bad side," she says as she works her bottom lip nervously.

He laughs and shakes his head. "Emma, I didn't mean it. I was upset and my mum would roll in her grave. She loved the school and this town."

"Oh, thank you. I already get on Miss Blue's bad side enough. I didn't need another way for her to be on my case. Thanks again. I will let Leo know and I'll let you rest. Goodnight Mr. Jones," Emma says as she turns to leave.

"Love, you can call me Killian." His bright smile makes her heart flutter.

Killian's final days in the small town his mother had grown up and left behind are spent with Emma Nolan showing him around in her free time. He is mesmerized by the beautiful lass and her free spirit which reminds him of his long-lost mum.

The night before he is set to depart, they spend it talking in his room with some room service and a subtle wink from Ruby in Emma’s direction.

“May I ask you a question, lass?” Killian asks as he is taking a bite of his grilled cheese sandwich, one he got at her recommendation.

“Sure, and you can call me Emma. I mean, you had to travel so far because of my fault,” she answers with a smile as she takes a bite of her fish and chips.

“Why write the letter?” He looks at her with curiosity.

She sighs. “I was thinking of the ideal man for me and for a brief moment, I had found him, but he was away from me.” She looks at him and shrugs.

He scratches behind his ear. “You are a beautiful lass and are clearly not lacking suitors.”

Emma looked at him with a high brow and tilt of the head. “Suitors?”

“Oh yes, a few nights ago, I went to your home to find your brother but instead, met three men outside arguing over you.”

Emma blushes profusely. “Ohh! But to get back to your question, I have yet to find such a man. I want something that seems to be unrealistic. Look, I have a pretty good idea of who you met. Each of those men has a quality I want, but not one of them has them all.”

He nods. “Emma, what are you looking for?” he asks curiously.

“I want… a man that will put the extra effort for me; that he lets it show I’m worth fighting for. He will be my best friend. We would be kindred spirits, open books. He will be romantic and full of passion. He will be mature and knows what he wants, and he won’t play games. He will be an adventurer and fun.”

“There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want,” he says.

“What about you?” She asks because she’s curious, and perhaps a part of her is hoping she has some of the qualities he is looking for.

He looks away from her for a second. “To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it in quite some time. In my younger days, I wanted a lot of the same qualities you do.” He cringes as he realizes that Milah is nothing like what he had pictured himself with in his youth.

Emma notices the change in him. “What’s wrong?”

“I just realized how much my fiance lacks those qualities. Don’t misunderstand me, she is not a completely horrid person, but she is not always the easiest person to deal with.”

Emma’s heart sinks at his mention of the fiance. “Oh, I’m sure she isn’t that bad if she managed to get you.”

“To be honest, we fell into the engagement because it seemed like the logical next step in our relationship.”

“But you must love her?” Emma asks.

Their food is long forgotten.

“I just figured that true love wasn’t in the cards for me but--” He pauses for a second. “Perhaps we should change the subject.” He can’t let his mind wander into that territory.

Emma agrees and their conversation returns to Killian hearing stories shared by Ruth about Alice. They laugh at their mothers’ antics. Soon the night comes and their time together ends as they part reluctantly, both upset at the fact that they will most likely never see each other again. As a last attempt to keep a connection with Killian, Emma reminds him that he and his brother are invited to the annual play production. He smiles and nods.

After leaving Killian’s door, Emma sits down at the diner. She asks Granny for a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon; she needs the little pick me up.

Ruby comes out of the kitchen with the cup for Emma and sits next to her. “Hey, stranger! So you have to tell me, how was he?”

Emma turns to Ruby confused. “Wait, what?”

“The hottie. You have been spending all your time with him for the last 48 hours or so and he is hot!” Ruby says as if it was the obvious conclusion.

“Nothing like that happened. Rubes, he is engaged.” Emma scoffs as she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry honey. I know you like him.” Ruby scoots closer and hugs her friend.

Emma sighs. “I didn’t even tell him the truth about Leo . I wanted to, but he had been so nice to me already. I don’t know, I just didn’t want him to not want to spend time with me. Oh my God, Ruby I’m horrible!”

“Ems, you are not horrible. I think you might have met your match, though.”

“Okay, let’s say you are right. What does that mean for me? He is getting married. He is going home to her .” Emma puts her cup down and gets up to leave the diner.

Once Killian finally arrives back home, he explains to Liam that the letter they received was all a simple misunderstanding. Liam asks if it was all a simple misunderstanding, then why did he take so long to come back. Killian simply answers that he wanted the connection to their mother to last longer, which is something that Liam can completely understand.

Milah was a different story. She was not happy with his absence, and made him aware of it. As she talks about wedding plans and how grandiose the wedding is going to be, he can’t help but feel his stomach drop at the thought of spending the rest of his life with her.

Liam has noticed a change in his brother since coming back from Storybrooke several weeks ago; the way Killian cringes when Milah touches him, or tries to show any form of affection. So he decides to confront him about the change in behavior on a night when they are enjoying a night out together.

“Brother, may I ask you something?” Liam asks as they sit down to have a drink.

Killian smiles. “Aye, what is it?”

“Since your return, you have been acting strangely. You seem distant all the time, but it’s much worse when you are with Milah. I don’t know how she can be so oblivious,” Liam says.

“I’m not acting any different. Liam, I honestly don’t know what you are getting at,” Killian says defiantly.

“Brother, you might be able to lie to that strumpet you are to marry, but not to me. I know you and I know for a fact there’s something wrong, and I have a strong feeling it has to do with that letter and the lass that wrote it.” Liam states and sighs. “Remember that a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets .”

Killian stares incredibly at his brother. “What are you saying?”

“Isn't it obvious? End your relationship with Milah and go after your girl!” Liam says smiling.

Killian doesn’t think twice and goes to face Milah.

The conversation consists of Milah yelling and throwing things at him once he said the words: It’s over. I just don’t love you.

In Storybrooke, Emma has talked to her suitors to let them know that there is no chance in them ever working out. She has decided that after school ended, she will take a break and travel. She didn’t need a man to be happy, and needs to get out of the small town.

On the day of the play, her nerves start to get the best of her. Part of her hopes for a miracle that perhaps Killian will take her up on her invitation.

Miss Blue has been pleasantly surprised at the creativity of the girls and after Emma had informed her that the Jones donation was going to continue, she calmed down.

On his flight back, Killian can't contain his excitement, but he feels a moment of panic and uncertainty. What if she doesn't feel the same? He has replayed their interactions over and over again in his mind since the engagement with Milah was called off. He is certain that Emma feels the same way towards him. Their conversation about their ideal mate makes him think she does. It’s a risk, but she is worth it. He will win her over no matter how long it takes.

Once his plane descends into Logan Airport, his nerves pick up again. He feels like a bloody schoolboy. He has decided to stay in Boston and then drive to Storybrooke the night of the play to surprise her. He has a feeling that if he were to stay at Granny's, his presence will not remain a secret for long.

He had been doing some shopping when he spotted the perfect dress for her. It was a pale pink dress with a bodice that would hug her curves and the neckline would give a tasteful, yet modest, view of what was hidden underneath. He just knows he has to get it for her.

The day of the play, he arrives a tad late in hopes to stay hidden in the shadows to properly surprise her. The production is in full swing and his eyes find his friend Leo and smiles fondly. It had been obvious that the school went to great lengths to provide an exceptional performance. After the final curtain, Killian finds his way backstage where a stunned Ruby greeted him with a wide smile.

"Hello, lass. I'm looking for--" Killian is interrupted by the girl.

"Oh, you're here! I know why you are here, just head to the last room in the hall." She smiles and winks at him.

Killian follows her instructions. He knocks softly and opens the door once he hears the familiar voice telling him to enter. He looks around and notices the stalls used to change outfits. He approaches the closed stall.

Killian starts talking, "I couldn't possibly miss this production."

Emma stops dressing on the other side of the stall, her heart beating so fast. Without thinking, she uses her Leo voice. "I'm happy you made it... There's something I should have told you before, but I was afraid--"

"There's nothing to fear," he says and she feels a box he pushed under the stall touch her feet. She picks it up and opens it, finding a dress inside.

Emma laughs. "You knew? All this time?"

Killian simply answers, "I'm a perceptive man, love. But the performance tonight confirmed my suspicions."

"Why aren’t you angry at me? I lied to you," Emma says as she looks at the dress. "And the dress?" she asks, biting her bottom lip.

"I figured you would tell me in time when you were ready. I hope it's not presumptuous of me to hope that perhaps you would like to go on a date with me?"

There’s a brief quiet moment when the stall opens, revealing Emma wearing the dress with a smile on her face.

“You look-” Killian says, speechless.

“I know,” Emma says with a smirk. “And I would love to go on a date with you, but what about your engagement?”

He nods. “I broke it off because this amazing lass wrote a letter that helped me find what I truly craved; true love.”

She closes the short distance between them and pulls him to her in a crashing kiss, one filled with the emotion his words caused to overflow from her heart.

In the end, Emma goes through with her plans of traveling. The difference is she does it with a man that loves her and makes her the happiest she has ever been. All by following in her future mother-in-law to be's footsteps, leaving Storybrooke behind for her new home.

Taglist:

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @cocohook38 @karlyfr13s @beckettj @chasedancer17 @lonelyspectator12 @batana54 @gingerpolyglot

#Captain Swan #cs birthday fic #searchingwardrobes #cs ff

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apiratewhopines · 3 years ago

Text

Thanks to @teamhook for giving me all the stubbly men

In the Offing

Chapter 17 — Hat Trick

Summary: In which our heroine believes in magic

Chapter 17 on AO3

“When you move

I can recall something that’s gone from me

When you move

Honey, I’m put in awe of something so flawed and free”

-Movement, Hozier

It had been a rainy couple of days since her trip out to the cabin with Graham. They had originally planned to meet up again and scan the area to see if they could find the Blanchard remains but the weather had prevented any chance of that. Instead, they had traded texts that included her thanking him for going on record with the paper to say she was no longer a suspect in the shooting. She had noticed a definite warming toward her by the citizens after his comments were splashed across the front page.

Of course it being Storybrooke, rumors had already begun to fly about who would take her place on the most wanted list. She avoided all requests for interviews and tried to focus on the task of finding the responsible party, encouraged every day by the positive news she received from August’s medical team.

Graham wasn’t the only one she had been texting with. As the date of the wedding drew closer, she started receiving messages from Elsa and her sister Anna, who happened to be a ball of chaotic energy that would put a toddler to shame. They were constantly inviting her over to help with this or that stage of the planning but she thought maybe it was really to make sure she didn’t disappear before the ceremony.

It seemed like the only person she hadn’t talked with was the one person to whom she actually had something to say. However, fulfilling his duties as best man had forced Killian into a last minute trip to Boston with Liam to pick up tuxedos and flowers arrangements. She had stopped by the cottage a couple of times to try to catch him, feeling that what she had to say would be better in person than by phone, but she never managed to connect.

So it was that Saturday evening under a clear twilight sky, she pulled up to the cottage. Nervously she ran her hands down her pale pink dress to smooth it as she tried not to think about the fact that she hadn’t spoken with Killian since she hung up on him several days ago. The front yard, which stretched down in a gentle rolling hill to a bluff that provided a beautiful ocean view, was transformed. There were a couple of large, white tents set up to accommodate the ceremony and the reception. Due to the heavy rain, someone had the forethought to have planking laid down in a walkway to the tents, which had also been raised on platforms and contained a beautiful hardwood floor to provide some protection from the wet ground.

As Liam had predicted, it appeared as though the entire town did show up. Waving at several people who caught her eye, she started to make her way over to Mary Margaret and David. Taking in the way their gazes never wavered from each other, she guessed that their wedding day wouldn’t be too far behind. Before she could reach them, Anna came flying over to her nearly vibrating with excitement. “Where are you going? I saved you a seat in the front row next to Kristoff.”

“Oh, that wasn’t necessary,” she protested. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself by sitting in a row normally reserved for family. Plus, if she was being completely honest, she wasn’t sure she could take being in close proximity to Killian while he was sporting a tux. The man oozed sexual magnetism in jeans so one could only imagine the allure of him in formalwear. She didn’t need a repeat of the kitchen debacle from a couple of weeks ago while the whole town was watching.

“Emma,” Anna whined with a pouty expression. “Do you see how empty the family section is? It’s embarrassing. Not to mention that Kristoff might fall asleep if you aren’t there to nudge him from time to time.”

“Fine.” She gave in easily when she sensed eyes drifting their way in curiosity. Trying to take her mind off the fact she felt like an animal in a zoo, she smiled at the other woman and said, “You look great.”

As Emma took her seat, Anna twirled in a circle and squealed, “I do, don’t I? This has always been a good color on me. I’m so glad we talked Elsa out of the all that ice blue. I mean, it’s a summer wedding. We need bold colors and lots of skin.”

“You will hear no arguments from me, babe,” Kristoff joked with a wink. As she was finding to be the case with the young couple, once they were honed in on each other she could do as she pleased because they were oblivious. Trapped by the puppy love playing out in front of her, she used the opportunity to study the lovely white roses and low lighting that showcased the tent to its best advantage. She couldn’t help but wonder how they had pulled off such an elaborate event with only days to plan.

Any thoughts she had about price tags and logistics were immediately frozen when she saw Liam and Killian step onto the stage about twenty feet in front of her. The Brothers Jones looked quite dapper and refined in their black tuxedos. Liam was calm and collected as always except for the faint hint of red across his cheeks, not even having one arm in a sling could diminish the happiness that radiated off him. Killian looked like a fantasy wrapped in a dream and dipped in chocolate.

Unfortunately, as she was feasting on him with her eyes he must have become aware of her idolizing stare. His penetrating blue gaze met hers full on for the first time in almost a week. Her heart beat out a painful thump at the emotion that flooded her but she couldn’t look away. He was perfect, from the top of his rumpled hair to the bottom of his precisely polished dress shoes. And she was an idiot.

“Geez, girl. Am I going to have to get you two a room so you don’t burn down the tent?”Startled out of her staring contest by Anna’s teasing, she looked over to see her companions watching her with matching grins. “Elsa mentioned there was something going on but she didn’t warn me that it was combustible.”

“Cute,” Emma said in tone that warned against further commentary. “Speaking of Elsa, shouldn’t you be helping your sister get ready?”

“Oh crap! I was supposed to be grabbing her a glass of water. See you guys later!”

For the next several minutes, Emma did her best to keep her gaze from wandering back to the stage even as she felt Killian’s eyes burning a hole through her. Kristoff was helpful in that regard because he was as much of a talker as his girlfriend, although in comparison he was still the shrinking violet in their relationship. The hum of conversations increased as the tent filled until the opening strains of the Wedding March began to play. As everyone stood to see the bride enter, she snuck a glance out of the corner of her eye and smiled shyly when she saw that Killian was staring back at her.

To no one’s surprise, Elsa made a beautiful bride. Her white blonde hair was styled in a complicated braid that looked soft and elegant. Her slender form was hugged by a white lace gown that looked fit for a queen. It was her serene expression that truly made her a beauty though. She had the look of a woman who couldn’t wait to start her future with the man waiting for her at the other end of the aisle.

Just like that, Emma felt tears forming. Luckily, she wasn’t the only one. There were several sniffles and weepy smiles in the tent as the pair shared their vows and promised to love and cherish each other for the rest of their lives. Liam’s deep voice never faltered and when the minister pronounced them man and wife, he didn’t hesitate to kiss Elsa soundly in front of God and everyone. And for rather longer than strictly necessary.

Laughter ringing out at the groom’s enthusiasm, the crowd began clapping as the newly married couple led the way to the reception. They were followed by the best man and maid of honor, whose heads were bent together as if they were plotting to overthrow the government. Knowing the two of them, Emma couldn’t completely rule out the possibility.

Kristoff offered her his arm to guide her into the other tent but she waved him on. She needed some time to collect herself so she continued to observe from the fringe of the crowd. The first dance was a slow romantic matter replete with loving glances and sighs. The cutting of the cake was a dignified event regardless of the taunting of some of the more rowdy members of the audience. As the band struck up a new song, couples started making their way to the dance floor. She was pleased to see Mary Margaret and David were one of the first to go, smiling at each other with the kind of fondness that would never fade.

Trying to calm her racing heart, she knew she had put off her conversation long enough. As she stepped out of the shadows, she heard a familiar voice ask, “May I have this dance, Emma?”

Shocked out of her anxiousness, she turned to find Graham standing behind her with his hand extended. He looked striking in his suit, she had to admit. Not fantasy dream chocolate level, of course, but not hard on the eyes. Putting her hand in his, she allowed him to lead her out to the floor. “I’m surprised to see you here, Sheriff. Didn’t you used to date the bride?”

Cringing a bit and screwing up his face, he looked at her through one eye. “There’s that adorable directness. It was one date, a rather hopeless affair I’m afraid.”

“Oh well, there are other fish in the sea,” she murmured encouragingly, a little concerned at the longing she saw in his stare when he looked at her. He shuffled her around the edge of the dance floor, his eyes searching hers for something.

“There is one fish that I have an interest in,” he admitted. “But I’m afraid I might be a little too late to catch her.”

With regret for the hurt her next words would cause him because somewhere along the way she had come to really like him, she confirmed, “Yes, I think you might be.”

Nodding with understanding, he shifted his glance to the front of the tent where the wedding party was currently enjoying dinner. With a rueful smile, he commented, “I’m guessing by the daggers that Killian is currently shooting my way that I have been bested by another Jones.”

Touching his cheek gently to bring his attention back to her, she teased, “Third time is the charm, my friend. To my knowledge, there aren’t any other brothers to contend with. Go forth with confidence and find yourself a lady worthy of you.”

Graham smiled down at her. The song ended but he held her an extra second, squeezing her waist affectionately before stepping back. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips and swept a soft kiss near her wrist while looking at her with eyes full of laughter. “Let’s see if that brings your erstwhile suitor running.”

Shaking her head at him, she grinned at his back as he disappeared into the crowd. She started toward an empty chair a couple of tables away when she felt someone approach from behind. She knew without turning that it was Killian. The air around her electrified when he got near.

“Swan, where do you think you’re going?”

“I was going to sit down and enjoy dinner, Dr. Jones. What brings you by?”

“I want to dance with you,” he stated, his gaze roaming over her like a caress. Holding out his hand, he continued, “You have the rest of your life to avoid me, love. Where’s the harm in one dance with a partner who actually knows what he’s doing?”

He really had no idea of the hold he had over her. He was still under the impression she planned to walk away. Yet there he was, reaching out to her as if her touch wouldn’t leave bruises. He may be the bravest man she ever met.

“I think I’m willing to risk it,” she whispered huskily as she eased into his arms. It was like coming home.

—

The night passed in a blur of champagne and dancing. Once Killian had her in his arms, he seemed loath to let her go, to the point of glowering at any man who approached. He did allow Liam a dance, and David and Kristoff grudgingly, but he always returned to her side as the final notes of the song played and pulled her into his arms again.

“I thought I agreed to one dance,” she teased, bracing herself one-handed on his shoulder as she tugged off her right shoe and massaged her foot. It was after midnight and the crowd had started to thin now that Liam and Elsa had run through a minefield of bubbles to the limousine that waited to take them to New York City for a mini-honeymoon. “I’m not sure my feet are going to recover.”

“Darling, if you can run down skips in stilettos a couple of dances with your many admirers shouldn’t be a problem,” he pointed out, dragging her out to the dance floor again. Willing to pay any price to continue to be this close to him, she plucked off her other shoe and tossed it gently under a nearby table. He abandoned his normal poise, wrapping his arms around her back and settling her against him in what amounted to little more than a hug. The world faded away as she rested her cheek against his chest.

The slow, romantic song continued to play in the background and he hummed the words as he swayed them gently in time to the music. She felt a tingle start at the base of her spine and work its way through her entire body. She didn’t even bother moving apart to say goodbye to Mary Margaret or Anna when they passed by to let them know they were leaving. When the band started to pack up and the caterers were tearing down tables, she observed quietly against his collar, “I think I ate too much cake.”

“You speak of the impossible,” he murmured into her hair.

“Killian,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Yes, love?”

“Will you take me home?”

Tightening his grip a bit, he answered, “Of course, Swan, but I let Kristoff and Anna borrow my truck so we’ll have to take your car. Where are your keys?”

“No,” she replied with a smile up at him. “To the cottage.”

Eyes widening in understanding, he asked, “Are you sure? There will be no coming back from this. No more running away, no more secrets. There’ll be no getting rid of me.” He waited patiently, his face inches from hers. She thought she detected the hint of a smile forming.

“I’m ready if you are,” she promised as she went up on tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

With a predatory grin, he deepened the kiss and before she knew what he was about, she was upended over his shoulder with her eyes having a very nice view of his lower back and beyond. “Let’s sail away, love.”

Shrieking over his laughter, she asked, “What in the world are you doing?”

“I can’t have you trudging through the mud and muck in your bare feet, Swan,” he explained with a fond pat on her bottom. She felt him glide through the tent and buried her face in her hands when she heard him say good night to several of the staff as they passed by.

“And you couldn’t carry me like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Too caught up in muttering promises of revenge, she didn’t realize they were at the porch until he gently lowered her to the floor. “There you are, my lady. Safe passage to the front door.”

They were eye level with each other since he was standing on the stair below her. The blue gleam of his gaze was unearthly. His mouth was curved in a playful smile but she could tell he was nervous. She thought he was probably afraid she would run again and realized that he stopped there for a reason, as if he wanted her to commit to this and move inside on her own two feet. Taking his face in her hands, she stared at him and hoped he could see everything she was feeling. “I’m sorry. For a lot of things, really. Most of all, I’m sorry if I made you doubt me, doubt this. I’ve wanted you since before we even met.”

“I never doubted you, Swan. Not for a moment. But you are an impossible woman sometimes,” he whispered, twisting his face to press his lips to her palm.

Stepping away from him, she reached out and let her hand trail slowly down his chest. With a saucy smile, she opened the door and backed into the living room. To her surprise, he didn’t trip over himself trying to get to her, rather he followed her inside and braced against the closed door, seemingly content to drink in the sight of her.

“I’ve dreamed of you every night since you left,” he admitted, hunger in his voice. “There were times I nearly got in my truck and drove to the loft.”

At this, he moved closer. His eyes never wavered from hers. She felt as though she had lost the ability to speak. He was the only person who could do this to her with nothing more than a look. He was standing so close she could feel the warmth of his skin, smell the champagne on his breath but he didn’t touch her. Instead, he leaned in and murmured, “Tell me, love, would you have let me in?”

When she did nothing but shiver, he continued, “If I had gotten down on my knees and begged, would you have opened your door?”

His lips skimmed softly over her cheeks, then forehead, then her chin. Fleeting caresses that felt like gossamer against her heated skin. “If I had promised to be your devoted subject and do your bidding always, would you have allowed me to share your bed?”

“Need I remind you what happened the last time you took your time,” she teased, her head light with desire. She had never felt like this before, this swirling, chaotic emotion that caused her to tremble. “Please.”

“Please what, darling?”

“Seal the deal,” she joked weakly, biting her bottom lip as she fought against the force of the passion that rocked her.

“You do have a way with words,” he teased. “I’m afraid the deal was sealed the minute we laid eyes on each other. Perhaps even before then. Fate hasn’t always been kind to me, love, but I’ll pay whatever price is needed a thousand times over to ensure that for the rest of our lives you continue to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now.”

With a whimper, she gave in to temptation and closed the distance between them. The magic he weaved with his honeyed tone and bewitching words was nothing compared to how it felt when he reached down to pick her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Without breaking their kiss, he carried her to the bedroom where he proceeded to show her how much he meant every single thing he said.

—

They didn’t leave the cottage for two days and she was certain there was not a surface that wasn’t put to good use during that time. It was as if the outside world no longer existed and Emma was happily ensconced in some odd alternative universe where she was content and loved.

Eventually she emerged long enough to let Mary Margaret know she was still alive, to chat with Henry, to check in on August, and to cancel search plans with Graham. She knew sooner or later she would have to go back to the loft to collect her things if nothing else. Luckily, her slovenly ways and hasty exit from the cottage after their fight had proved useful in one regard. She had left enough of her belongings behind that she wasn’t walking around in her wedding outfit the whole time. It had done strange things to her heart to realize that he had collected all the clothes she left after their argument and neatly folded them, placing them in the top drawer of his bureau.

She noticed other signs of him making room for her in his life and, beyond that, making her feel welcome. Her preferred coffee cup was always clean and ready for her each morning. He had stocked her favorite shampoo in the shower, although how he knew it was her favorite when she never mentioned it she was still trying to figure out. He had added a couple of books to his shelves for her after a late night conversation about classics she had never had the chance to read.

Even when she had left, even when she had pushed him away, he hadn’t retreated. Not entirely. He had merely given her space to figure out what he had probably know all along...that they were good together and that needing someone wasn’t something to be feared.

So it was with some chagrin that she awoke Tuesday morning to find the bed empty. The quiet of the cottage was like a slap in the face after several blissful days of being adored. Even knowing he had to drop Anna and Kristoff off at the airport before meeting a client that morning at the marina, she was still surprised at how lonely it was. She, the woman who prided herself on her independence and self-reliance, was pining for a man after a mere five hours apart.

The wizardry of Killian Jones was limitless.

Looking over at the clock, she realized that yearning was all well and good but breakfast would be better. Taking her time to get showered and dressed, she walked out to the kitchen island to find a vase full of yellow flowers, a package of strawberry poptarts, and a note from her—whatever Killian was to her now—inviting her to join him at the marina when she woke up.

Grabbing a cup of cold coffee to go and the breakfast he left her, she ventured outside for the first time in days to find the sun shining brightly and the temperature pleasantly warm. She hastily ate her breakfast one-handed while driving to the marina with the windows rolled down. There was absolutely no traffic on the road and she pulled into the parking lot convinced that she was the only living soul in the area. Locking her car, she made her way to the last dock where the pirate ship was moored passing only one person on the way, a strikingly familiar redhead that caused her to do a double take.

Staring after the woman, she heard Killian shout. “Swan! I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.”

Dragging her eyes away from the retreating figure, she faced the man who was responsible for the increasingly frequent smile to be found on her lips. “Never, Dr. Jones.” Climbing aboard, she gave him a quick kiss that he seemed to take as a challenge to extend. “Was that—“

“Ariel?” Killian continued to pepper her face with sweet kisses as if supremely unconcerned that there was a Hollywood starlet wandering around the docks. “Yes, she was the client I was meeting with this morning. The studio sent her to be briefed on pirate lore. I had intended to introduce you but my little Sleeping Beauty couldn’t be bothered to roll out of bed at a decent hour.”

Snickering because they both knew why she needed the extra sleep, she allowed him to pull her into the Captain’s Quarters and promptly make her forget her own name.

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jordanstrophe · 4 years ago

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This One is Mine, Part 5

Previous Masterlist next is a work in progress<3

CW: Whump, Pet whump, Whipping, Reference to abuse, Low self esteem, Anxiety, then F L U F F

“Don’t look at him, look at me”

Crack

“Sit up straight”

Crack

“On your knees!”

Crack

“LOOK AT ME!”

“STOP IT! STOP IT PLEASE!” Michael screamed, he jolted upwards. He couldn’t breath, he knew he was being hurt, but he couldn’t feel anything. Nothing around was familiar. Where was he? What’s happening? What did he do wrong?

“Michael?” a voice asked. It was quiet and concerned, but soft. He looked around the room, until he saw a man sitting across the coffee table from him. He was sitting at a chair, legs crossed with a laptop, his dark hair highlighted from the rising sunlight through the window. He set the laptop on the table, and slowly got up.

Everything started to come back to him. He wasn’t at the factory, he was somewhere else. With someone else. Someone had draped a large heavy blanket over him. It was the softest thing he had ever laid a finger on.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked, concerned.

Then it donned on him. He had fallen asleep without permission, and it was morning now. He crumbled to the floor at the man’s feet, lowering his head.

“I’m s-sorry! I’m s-s-o sorry! I didn’t meant t-to! Please! Don’t!” He cried, tears streaming down his face, shielding his head with his arms. His dream had become a reality. He really had messed, and now the punishment was going to be real this time.

“Michael, it’s okay. Everything is fine.” Charles sunk down on the floor in front of him. He lifted him by his shoulders to sit him up straight, then placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing away a tear. “You’re okay. I’m glad you were able to get some sleep. You were exhausted last night, and since you got caught up on some rest, we can do something I really wanted to do with you today.” He gave him a happy smile.

Oh no. This is where it starts. The whips, knives, cages, shackles...

“We’re going clothes shopping!” He announced, clapping his hands together.

“..W-what?” He tilted his head to one side.

“A good friend of mine runs a lovely clothing shop not far from here. I’ve asked her to clear it out today, so it will be just us! We can get you some clothes that will fit you.” He pulled the folded clothes off the table, and handed it to him. “Here, these are Miles, they'll still be a bit big for you, but it’s something until we get you some of your own.” He smiled at him, gently ruffling his hair.

Michael looked up at him, with a nervous expression.

“Mm... Master?” He asked, he nervously clutched the clothes to his chest.

Charles hesitated, before gently taking his upper arm, and guiding him back onto the couch. He sat on the other side of the from him, and turned to face him.

“No, sweetheart. I don’t own you, not like that.” He tried to give him a comforting smile, trying to hide any sadness that could leak through to his expression.

“B-but! W-wait! But you, you-” “I know! I know.” Charles interrupted him, placing a hand up to try and cease him from a panicked stutter.

“Like I said, it’s not like that. I promised you I would take care of you, and that’s what I’m going to do. Just consider me... Your guardian. A caretaker. There are no slaves, or masters in this house, okay?” This time, he was able to give him a genuine smile. Michael was so used to being treated as property, or a slave who only had eyes for his master. He hardly could grasp what he meant.

“You can call me Charles if you like, or Sir if that’s more comfortable for now. Everyone calls me that around here anyway.”

“Now my dear, why don’t you hop in a nice warm shower. After you get dressed, we’ll get some breakfast and head out, alright?” He smiled and ruffled his hair.

“Y-yes sir!” He called, as Charles took his hand and led him up the stairs.

The hallways really were endless, with countless doors and elegant lights lighting the path. He stopped him at a door, leading into a dark room. He flicked the light on, and revealed a beautifully decorated bathroom. Golden light lit up the ceiling, a soft green circular mat laid in the center floor, tall green potted bamboo plants decorated the corners, with pots hanging from the ceiling containing colorful flowers and vines that hung down.

“Fun fact! This is the only room that has synthetic plants.” Charles chuckled. “Warm water, okay? Take as much time as you like, and use anything you like. Will you be alright on your own?” He asked. “Yes sir, thank you very much.” He bowed his head politely in response, as Charles closed the door for him. The room fell silent in an instant. He clutched the clothes close to his chest, and took a deep shaky breath, before setting them down at the sink. He slid the coat off his shoulders. He glanced at himself in the large mirror. He looked like a walking ghost. Thin, bruised, broken. He cringed and looked away, before turning the shower on.

Charles paced around the kitchen, arms crossed behind him. “It’s been thirty minutes.” Charles muttered. “Pff, give the kid some space, he’s been through a lot.” Liam said. He was older, and had medium brown hair tied back, and wore an apron. He cut through various fruit and vegetables with practiced speed. “I know, I know... But maybe I should just go check on him. What if he doesn’t know how to work the shower?” He stuttered. Liam only gave him a eyebrow raise, with a “seriously?” expression.

“Give him some breathing room. He has a lot to go through before he gets comfortable! One of those things is going to be a healthy dose of both comfort and space.” Liam smiled. “He’s right you know.” Mia chipped in. She was shamelessly sitting on top of the counter, busily tapping away on her phone. “I’ve gotten you out of the next four meetings. That gives you three days of a clear schedule to get him properly settled in before you have to start taking trips.” She muttered. “What would I do without you guys?” Charles took a heavy sigh of relief, leaning against the table. “Crumble? Have everything fallen apart? Disorganized schedule? Chaos and mayhem?” Mia giggled, swaying her feet back and forth. “Accurate.” He admitted.

“I know bringing the kid home with no warning threw something's off, thank you for being so open for him.” Charles sighed. “Of course! From what I heard from Miles, it seems like you did the best thing. And besides, I get to keep myself busy with more meals, and show it off to him!” Liam chuckled, pouring steaming hot food out of a pan.

“S-sir?” A tiny voice could be heard from the doorway. All heads turned as Michael shyly walked in. He was dressed in a light blue button-down shirt with a light oversized jacket. His face was more noticeable, and his hair was smooth and fluffy, but the ends were every so slightly damp.

“Well someone cleans up nice.” Mia complimented. He jolted with posture, not entirely sure how to respond. “I’ll leave you boys to it then! I have some phone calls to make.” She smiled, before hopping off the counter and heading off.

“She’s right, you look fresh. Michael, this is Liam, he’s the household chef, the best chef I’ve ever had, in fact.” Charles introduced. “Darn right I better be.” Liam laughed.

“It seems I have the honor of serving you this morning, mister Michael.” Liam gave him a wide grin, as Michael couldn’t help but to give him a smile back. He placed all the fresh hot food onto two plates, and slid them onto a nearby table for them. “Give it a try! Tell me what you think!” He smiled proudly. Charles pulled a chair out for him, and encouraged him to sit. The plate was filled with rich nutritious food, including steamed vegetables, grilled chicken, on the side were a fresh biscuit and fruit slices.

“I know it’s an odd plate, but I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made you a bit of everything.” Liam shrugged. “The.. The whole thing?” Michael asked, as Charles nodded. “It’s for me?” He asked again, a hint of excitement in his voice. “The whole thing.” Charles smiled. He happily dug in, trying tiny nibbles of everything on the plate, before taking proper bites. Charles was hardly interested in his own plate, he was too swoon by the satisfaction in Michaels face as he enjoyed a proper meal.

“So how is it?” Liam asked, as he cleaned up the kitchen area. Michael stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes went blank for a second, as he nervously glanced at Charles, who studied his face, trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong. “Sweetheart you can talk to anyone at any time, you don’t need permission.” Charles said. He really hoped he had guessed correctly.

His eyes immediately light up. He took a deep breath, before excitedly blurting out “It’s really good and I really like it! Thank you!” He cried out to Liam, who gave him a bright smile. Charles took a breath of relief. He guessed correctly.

“All aboard!” Miles announced. He opened up the car door for Michael, as Charles stood behind him to help him up into the car. He had significantly calmed down, he had color in his face, and didn’t look petrified all the time now. He was nervous about the car ride, sure, but Charles assured him it would be a quick trip, and the woman who owned the shop was lovely. After about ten minutes about driving, they were now outside a gorgeously decorated shop.

“Welcome!” A woman called, who had been waiting by the door. She had her hair pulled back into a bun, with a sleek trench coat. She was older, in mid forties.

“Nimrah, it’s been awhile!” Charles called. He steered Michael into the stop as she held the door. “Doing alright now that you’ve been more out and about.” She smirked at him. Her eyes were a deep green, that looked like it could pierce the souls of the weary.

“Thank you again for doing this, I apologize for any hassle this may have caused.” Charles said. “No, no problems at all. It’s an excuse to see you again. Plus! I wanted to meet him.” She motioned towards Michael, who had already slunk behind Charles. “Well he’s a bit shy. We’re just giving him some space. But today, he gets clothes.” Charles smiled.

He turned around and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Alright sweetheart. Go pick out whatever you want, go on now.” He shooed. Michael nodded nervously, as he looked around the store. It looked expensive. Everything was neatly on display, mirrors taking up any spare space on the wall, and the shop was spotless and decorated with beautiful hanging lights draping from the ceiling.

Charles heard something like a “pspsps” noise behind him.

“Really Nimrah?” He hung his head, side eyeing her. ‘‘Get over here, we need to talk.” She said blatantly. She nodded towards the front desk, and opened up a door for him, leading into a back office. He took one last look to make sure Michael was okay, who was nervously playing with a scarf. He followed her as she draped herself in a stool, and pulled out her phone.

“So how’s the shop doing?” He asked. “It’s a great side job, really throws off suspicion, now enough stalling, what are you doing messing with Malcolm? We have a system, remember?” She asked. Charles let out a pained sigh, as he leaned at the table next to her.

“Things got... Complicated.” He muttered.

“Whaaat? Noooo.” She said exaggeratedly, in a mocking tone.

“We had five of the founders all on good terms. We were stable. With a majority of the founders all buddy buddy, we never worried about voting when it came to big decisions about the business.” She crossed her arms. “Ugh, I know.” Charles groaned.

“Now, there’s currently four founders on good terms, because someone decided to go mess with one, and take his favorite toy away.” She growled.

“That toy was a young man who was about to get beat to death. Are you saying I should have just watched that happen?” Charles asked coldly.

“Honey, I run the assassinations business. What do you think I think?” She blinked at him. Charles didn’t have a response.

“To be honest, I actually think you did the right thing...” She admitted. “What!?” He exclaimed. Definitely not the response he was expecting from Nimrah Loralie of all people.

“Oh come on dear, don’t give me that. I always hated Malcolm. He’s a big pain, and only thinks for himself, not the other companies. Take that deal he made with me for instance last month, that was a total rip off! A spit in my company's face!” She angrily explained.

“Mmm.. About that. I kind of used that as a bit of blackmail so I could keep Michael...” He nervously muttered.

“WHAT? Hahaha! Oh goodness, yes. Hang it over his head! He deserves it!” She hissed. Charles let out a small sigh of relief. “This is why you’re my favorite.” She giggled. “Thanks for being understanding.” He smiled. “I’m not a total monster, but, problem still exist. The only thing the uh, snowflake founders have to do, is turn one of our guys on their side, all the voting will then be in their favor.” She said. “I suggest we turn the Barron, dense as a rock, but he’s been swaying these last few weeks.” Charles nodded in agreement. “Maybe we can have dinner sometime? Talk it over, come up with a strategy and knock it out together? Just like the good ol’ days.” She smirked. Charles' phone pinged, as he pulled it out of his pocket.

“Oh speak of the devil...” He muttered. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Would you look at who else would also like dinner?” He asked, showing her his phone.

Malcolm: “Dinner, your place, tomorrow at 6.”

“Tsk, tell him you're busy.” She grumbled. “I did, yesterday when we left his factory.” He explained.

Charles: Can’t, I’m busy, remember?

Malcolm: No you’re not, I know you cleaned your schedule.

“How did he know that?!” He complained.

Malcolm: I called tomorrow's meeting, they said you canceled. Stop spending all your time with that slave and fit me in tomorrow. How’s my baby doing by the way? Does he miss me?

“Busted.” Nimrah couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t believe he called my meeting! He’s obsessed!” Charles growled. “Well he’s resourceful, you can give him that.” She shrugged. “I’m going to check on Michael.” Charles sighed. He threw his phone in his pocket and stormed out.

Michael was waiting for him, clutching a single pair of clothes. The cheapest he could find.

“What’s this?” Charles asked. “It’s.. It’s the clothes I picked out, sir.” He nervously said. “Is it too much? I.. I can put some back!” He dug through the pile in his arms. “No, where’s the rest of it? You’re going to have more than one change of clothes young man. Come here.” He took the pile from his arms and set it at the counter. He wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him over to a shelf stacked with folded clothes. “Come one now, pick out as much as you want. What about this right here, this looks snazzy and comfortable. What about those shoes up there? Do you like those?” He asked. “But! I.. Uh.” He nervously searched for a price tag. “Na ah! No looking at the price tags!” He snatched it from him before he could take a look, and tucked it underneath the shirt. “Do you like it?” He asked. “I.. Yes, I do, but-No buts!” Charles butted in. He grabbed the shirt off the shelf and tossed it into the pile on the counter. “Lets go try on these coats over here.” He smiled, pulling him into another direction. Michael was practically giggling at this point, with a shy blush covering his cheeks.

After some time, Nimrah came out, and chuckled at the entire wardrobe piled on the counter. “You’re really getting invested in this little one, aren’t you?” She smiled. “Yep, he’s mine after all. I’m going to give him everything he needs.” Charles said. “Is that so? Well it’s all on the house.” She said, neatly folding the clothes, and placing them in bags. “Nimrah please, as kind as that is, it’s not necessary.” Charles said. “I insist! Besides, it’s not for you, it's for him.” She smiled at Michael, who clutched Charles' arm nervously. He looked at her with wide, confused eyes.

“I remember you, you know. I was there once, at a party he threw. You were a very brave young man.” She smiled. Michael’s face went pale, as he stared at the floor. Charles looked concerned, looking from one face to the other in silence.

“Thank you very much, Miss.” Michael muttered, lowering his head.

“Well! Off you two go, Michael, I hope you enjoy all of these, and Charles, keep my deal in mind will you? And take care of this little one.” She smiled, scooting several filled bags towards him. “Of course, thank you.” He was too concerned with whatever she meant by that to muster a smile. Miles entered the store to help carry things out, and thankfully broke some tension.

He wanted to ask, but whatever she was referring to, happened some time ago. He didn’t want to press, but the curiosity lingered. Regardless, he was going to enjoy today. He was going to spoil this kid all day if he had too. And he wasn’t going to think about that dinner. That dinner with Malcolm, that was going to have to happen eventually.

He wasn’t going to think about it.

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @green-eyed-whumpster

Thank you for reading!

#Whump #Whumpee #Caretaker #Creepy caretaker #Hurt comfort #rescued whumpee #Michael being a good boi #Charles being an absolute dad #Whump writing #caretaking #I really wanted Charles to take him out for coffee #But he's technically still being held against his will #so I couldn't quite fit that into the story... yet #Nimrah going pspsps kept cracking me up trying to type it #I feel like I should change the name of the title #It was suppose to only be the title for the first page #but I just kept using it lol

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago

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Title: Kismet {2}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot Heavy, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Flirtation

Words: 4.9k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: I did something a little different this chapter with POVs. You’ll see it toward the end. Let me know if it was confusing or if you guys liked it. Also there are Google Translations in text. If they are wrong, I apologize. I hope you enjoy this. ❤️❤️

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘 As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters: 1 |

-Henry-

He could feel the eyes of those around him. He’d been recognized. You’d think that years of being in the industry, he’d be immune to the stares, whispers, and not so discreet pictures of him being taken. He was not. It was always like the first time. It was difficult for him not to feel self-conscious about it either. Doing a once over of the restaurant, he made a mental note of where everyone who looked suspicious was. Most of them looked away when they saw him looking around, but there were a few bold ones who kept looking and even one or two extra bold who tried to make eye contact while giving the classic seductress lip bite. When that happened, he usually gave a quick, polite nod before looking away, never to look back.

Tonight was no different, except he couldn’t stop thinking about one woman—you. It wasn’t enough that he’d dreamt of you last night in ways that were unexpected seeing how he’d just unofficially met you. He couldn’t explain how he felt. It was strange and new. He’d met beautiful women before, women that were drop dead gorgeous with an equally amazing and impressive body. The physical aspects of you were not what was keeping him enthralled. It was something else, something he saw in your eyes when he held you, something his body felt once he touched your skin, something his heartfelt when you spoke. It was unexplainable at this time, but just because he couldn’t explain it didn’t mean he couldn’t dwell on the feeling.

“Dude, I’ve been calling and texting you all night. What the hell?”

Jean, had his arms stretched out nonverbally, asking, “what the hell?”

“You have?”

“Yeah. Pick up your phone,” Jean finished.

“I didn’t know. I don’t have my phone,” he replied as he leaned back. The eyes of his three friends dropped to the table where your phone was. It looked identical to his.

“It’s right there, man,” William said, pointing to it.

“This isn’t mine.”

“Uh, it looks like yours,” Jameson informed.

“Yeah, but it’s not.”

They all looked confused. Stifling his laughter, he began explaining to them. He knew they were probably going to lose their minds.

“Yesterday, I had a meeting about Witcher, so I’m coming off the elevator on my phone, and I run smack into Aliya Taylor.”

The eyes of the gents around him widened as they sat up more alert.

“Thee Aliya Taylor?” Nodding his answer to Jameson, he gulped his Guinness before continuing.

“She almost falls over, so my reflexes kick in, and I catch her and set her upright. She recovers and gets on the elevator. I pick up what I thought was my phone, but I just spent the last night realizing that this is not my phone,” he finished.

The three of them sat there silently, each thinking over the bit of news he’d just shared. Saying it out loud, it sounded like a plot from a romcom. It was absolutely ridiculous. Things like these never happen in real life.

“So, you have Aliya Taylor’s phone.”

“I have Aliya Taylor’s phone, and she has mine,” he laid out.

Jameson, his oldest friend, slid back with a shocked expression on his face. “Wow. That’s bonkers.”

Releasing a chuckle, he nodded in agreement.

“So, what have you doing on her phone?”

He knew that was going to be William’s next question. He could also guess another one of his questions was going to be about your pictures.

“What you would find on a typical woman’s phone,” he answered.

“So, selfies, nudes, clothes, and makeup?”

The laughter around the table filled the space around them, giving him enough of a reprieve to drink down some more of his Guinness.

“Not sure about the nudes. I saw a half nude then stopped. I felt weird like I was violating her privacy.”

“The better question is, what’s on your phone, mate?” That was when he made a face knowing full well what might be on his phone.

“There might be a few nudes,” he admitted. His friends laughed again, but he didn’t find it funny at all. “Oh Christ, I hope she hasn’t seen them.”

“Mate, Aliya Taylor could be checking out your knob right now and fancying what she sees,” Jean teased.

“Shut up. She hasn’t called. I’m sure she knows by now that it’s not her phone,” he audibly thought.

“Just like you know. Call her,” Jameson urged.

He sat there for a few moments thinking about if that were the right move rather than a text. His friends could see his hesitation. So passed the next five or so minutes with them trying to convince him a call was the best option. With a unanimous decision, he picked up the phone as his friends squeezed in to look.

“Aw, flowers how adorable,” William teased. He ignored their laughter and dialed his number. He had no idea if you’d pick up or not.

The phone rang three times, and just when he thought you weren’t going to pick up, he heard your voice. It was soft and hesitant.

“Hello?”

Silence. His eyed automatically widened as he froze. His friends around him motioned to him, telling him to speak. That was when his brain restarted.

“Yes, hi. This is Henry—Cavill. I bumped into you; we bumped into each other yesterday.”

“Right, yes,” you confirmed in a professional voice. He wondered if you were slightly freaking out as much as he was on the inside. If you were, you sounded nothing but calm and collected.

“It looks like I might have your phone,” he breached.

“And I might have yours.”

“It seems that way.”

The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.

“Would you like to make a plan to exchange them back? Maybe coffee tomorrow, or brunch?”

His mouth said it before his brain caught it. Once it was out, he cringed. He sounded sleazy with a touch of desperate. It was not a good look either way. Your silence told him you thought the same thing.

“Are you asking me out or to meet up to get your phone back?”

It was a good question, one he didn’t have enough confidence to answer.

“I can’t tomorrow anyway. I’m actually in London right now working. I won’t be back in LA for about a week and a half,” you informed.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. If you like, I can have my assistant mail it to you express. You should get it by tomorrow night,” you suggested.

“I would rather exchange hand to hand. My phone has a lot of very personal stuff on it.”

“As does mine,” you added.

“I would suspect so. The most secure thing would be when you return to LA,” he countered.

“Can you go without a phone for that long?”

A smile spread across his face. “I’ll be using yours.”

Your laughter was loud and unexpected. He couldn’t help but smile wider because of it. He wondered what you looked like while you laughed. Catching a glimpse of his friends’ faces, he wiped the smile off his face and shook the thought away.

“Feel free to use mine,” he added.

“And is someone important calls like Spielberg or a Francesca?”

That was when he knew you’d looked in his phone. He wasn’t angry. He was filled with something else—regret maybe. Regret that you’d seen things that he couldn’t explain then and there or beforehand. His friends all had the same look on their faces. It was one that said he’d been caught.

“If it’s Spielberg, yes, answer on the first ring.”

Again, you laughed. You were good for his ego; he thought to himself before continuing.

“Francesca, no need to answer, we have nothing to talk about.” It was the truth. “What about if it’s Tyra Banks or Liam or Jesse. Do I answer?”

The silence stretched for several long moments. He wondered if you would answer, and his friends looked equally interested. What seemed like a long while later, he heard you speak again.

“Tyra Banks answer at your own risk, she’ll pump you for info until you’re blue in the face. If it’s Liam or Jesse, if I were you, I wouldn’t. They have strong jealous tendencies.”

The answer was unexpected, and it was an answer he didn’t quite like. “Who doesn’t these days,” he stated. Neither of you spoke for a few moments after.

“So, a week and a half?”

“Sounds like a date,” he responded. You giggled. He liked the sound of it.

“Date?”

“Yes, a date,” he confirmed.

“I never said anything about a date.”

“I know, but I also know there was some sort of spark between us yesterday, and I know you felt it too.”

Again you were quiet. Yeah, it was bold, but he knew that he wouldn’t get any answers to the multitude of questions he had without some bold move forward.

“You’ll have your phone back in a week and a half. Goodbye, Henry,” you said before you ended the call.

Without knowing he’d been holding it, he released his breath and sat back in his seat.

“Jeez, she’s a firecracker,” Jameson professed.

That’s the least of it, he thought.

~~~~~~~

-Aliya-

Your time in London was hectic. You were all over the place. Your photoshoots took you all over the English countryside. You frolicked in green pastures, posed on trees, in trees. You rode horses and pretended to play cricket. You posed with English roses and having afternoon tea all the while in the latest in fashion, and all dolled up in makeup. When your days began at five in the morning, they didn’t end until ten at night. If they began at night, you were not back in your hotel room until six in the morning.

On the days your modeling responsibilities didn’t rule your schedule you worked within your company. You were still in the midst of putting out your first magazine that you hoped would be up to par with Vogue or Bazaar. The goal was to do what they did, just better, and geared for a more ethnic audience, but you were now working on ways to be a bit inclusive—but not much. You wanted black and brown people to feel included, seen, represented, and heard. It was a lot of work, but you knew it would be worth it. Your launch was scheduled for a few months from now, and your excitement was reaching epic proportions with each passing day.

This project was your baby, you put sweat, blood, tears, sleepless nights, and everything ounce of your energy into it. You sometimes neglected having a life for it, and that included dating. It was what you told yourself was the reason for your lack of dating. At the surface, it sufficed, but deep down, you knew you were full of shit. No one else had to know that, though. All anyone needed to know was that you liked to work, and you were damn good at everything you did. You made sure of it.

With your current phone situation, you used Henry’s phone to do everything. No one recognized the number, and when they saw it, they always wanted to question you on what was going on. You were thankful that whoever you called didn’t have his number, or else the caller ID would say his name whenever you called, then you’d have a lot of explaining to do.

On your fourth day in London, you were sitting in the tub soaking after a long day when his phone went off with a notification signifying a text. When you looked at it, you couldn’t help but smile.

MSG Your Phone: Travis and Jesse have called three times so far. I haven’t answered, but you have an overflow of messages and voicemails.

You smiled and wondered if he was fishing for details. When you reread the message, you tried to pick up on any hint of jealousy. There was none.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Francesca and Abby haven’t called, but the messages are overflowing. Would you like me to forward them?

After barely waiting a minute, another message came in.

MSG Your Phone: No. As I said, we have nothing to talk about. Would you like me to forward your voicemails?

Again you smiled. He was fishing.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Nah. They can wait.

You had to giggle. You didn’t plan on giving him not one detail.

MSG Your Phone: How is London treating you?

MSG Henry’s Phone: It’s fine.

MSG Your Phone: Did the sun come out for you?

MSG Henry’s Phone: Nope. Raining cats and dogs.

You sank deeper into the tub and took up the glass of wine you had rested at the side. After a decent sip, you placed the wine glass back and sighed.

MSG Your Phone: Glad to know mother nature treats you just as how she treats me.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Are you in London a lot?

MSG Your Phone: I mainly live in London. I come to LA for work but am spending more and more time here for work, or on location.

The thought popped into your head of where he lives. You wondered if you’d passed it. As soon as you began thinking about it, you pushed the thoughts out of your head.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Oh, so you’re a Brit. Interesting.

It was a stupid reply. Duh, he was a Brit, the accent in interviews you’d watched since bumping into him made it a dead giveaway. It was the only thing you could think of.

MSG Your Phone: What is that interesting?

MSG Henry’s Phone: I completely missed your accent.

It wasn’t a lie.

MSG Your Phone: You were rather distracted.

You couldn’t help but giggle again. It was adorable how confidant he was. This was not the first display of it. Deciding to throw him off, you shot your final text.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Gotta run, goodbye Henry.

Instead of putting the phone down, you reread the messages. With each message, you found yourself smiling wider and wider until you noted a giddy feeling rushing through you. Nipping it in the bud, you put the phone down and closed your eyes, deciding to focus only on relaxing. Unfortunately, the two hemispheres of your brain weren’t in agreement. One wanted Henry, the other wanted relaxation.

Two days of working and forcing yourself to focus on work and everything related to it found you drifting onto the side of overstressed and worked. Any normal human would do everything to alleviate the discomfort, but you, you did everything in your power to prolong it. You knew what the root of it was, and you didn’t want to entertain any parts of your growing curiosity about him. Though you didn’t want to entertain your thoughts about him, you found yourself two days later sitting on your hotel room balcony with a glass of wine thinking of no other but him.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Why don’t you have a lock code on your phone?

As you waited, you sipped from your glass and stared out to the London Eye. It was one of your favorite parts of the city. Sometimes at night, you liked to ride it and just think about your life. You especially liked having it stop at the top. It gave you such a beautiful view of the city and the lights it always took your breath away.

He heard the chime of the phone in the next room. He turned the flame on the stove down to low, so the sauce he had simmering wouldn’t thicken too quickly and made his way to his bedroom for the phone on the nightstand. When he took it up, his smile was wide when he saw his number and the name he’d designated himself as highlighted. When he opened it and read the message, he couldn’t stop the victory dance that he did around his two-bedroom home that went on for much longer than he’d ever admit to.

When he stopped, he was back in the kitchen, hovered over the counter.

MSG Your Phone: What do I need a code for?

As he anxiously waited for your reply, he put the phone on the counter several inches from him. He hoped this would stop him from sending message after message. When he realized that it wasn’t enough, his idle hands still wanted work, so he went back to stirring his pot.

His reply had you wrinkling your nose. He sounded so flippant about it.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Well, for one, you’re an actor with a lot of private high secret info regarding movies on your phone. Anything can get leaked. For two, this is the twenty-first century, and the average person has at least six pieces of incriminating material on their phones. That incriminating material can end up on TMZ or US Weekly, hell every Perez Hilton.

You couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that. This was logic to you, logic you couldn’t believe no one else had.

He nearly laughed out loud from your message. This was definitely a concern of someone whose star of fame was up there in the stratosphere. He didn’t consider his fame to be anywhere near that high. Yeah, he had fans that ventured on highly over spirited, but on the ever swinging pendulum of fame, he was somewhere a few notches past middle ground. He was glad for it. Already he found his level of fame to be somewhat invasive and debilitating. He could not imagine dealing with your level of fame.

MSG Your Phone: I’m not nearly important enough for anyone to want to hack into my phone to blast info. Also, yes, this is the twenty-first century, but I am anything but the average man. That doesn’t apply to me.

You liked his reply. It said a lot about him but also left so many things hidden, things you absolutely wanted to know more about.

MSG Henry’s Phone: So, there is nothing on your phone that you wouldn’t want a stranger, me seeing?

You thought back to his pictures and the women in his text history and wondered how he would respond. This time you finished your wine with the raise of your hand and poured the remaining contents of the bottle into it as you waited for his reply.

Immediately his mind went to his suggestive nudes and the messages with Abby and Francesca. Those were the only two things he worried about.

MSG Your Phone: Yes, there are things I wouldn’t want you seeing. A stranger, I don’t really care.

Your message came in almost immediately.

MSG Henry’s Phone: What makes me so different? I am a stranger.

Smiling, he turned off the fire, took up the saucepan and poured the caramelized onion, garlic, butter, and wine sauce over his perfectly prepared steak. After putting the saucepan in the sink for washing later, he walked to the dining table with his steak and potatoes dish. He was still living on a high protein diet to keep himself in Witcher shape.

MSG Your Phone: So I’m a stranger?

MSG Your Phone: Yes. I don’t know you.

He thought about your words for a few moments as he sliced a piece of his steak to pop into his mouth. As he chewed, he knew the right response.

MSG Your Phone: Do you want to know me?

It was bold as hell. You couldn’t believe the words as you reread them for the fourth time. What the hell did you say to that? What did he expect you to say? What did you want to say? The only answer that fits every question was you didn’t know.

MSG Your Phone: Something easier then. Why don’t you have a code on your phone?

Sighing out in relief, you took a few gulps of your wine.

MSG Henry’s Phone: I did, I was in the process of changing it when I bumped into you and never completed it, so both were void.

MSG Your Phone: Oh, so it was fate then.

You almost rolled your eyes into the back of your head so far they got stuck.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Fate?

MSG Your Phone: Yes, fate that we bumped into each other at the exact moment you took the code off your phone and then happened to have lost your phone to me. Fate that gave me ten days to peruse it if I chose to. Fate that gave me ten days to make a plan.

Your smile was widening every second that ticked by. The man was charismatic.

MSG Henry’s Phone: A plan? To what exactly?

His smile was big. This was going just as he hoped. The only thing left for him to do was take it there.

MSG Your Phone: To make you mine.

He wished he could see your face right now.

Gasping for air, you continued to cough. The wine was still trapped in your windpipe. As you struggled for air, you tried to calm your panic. After several moments you found yourself able to catch a full breath.

“Holy shit,” you finally gasped. The man was bold as hell for real. You read the message again, and again each time the shock remained. You couldn’t believe he actually said that. A flirtatious feeling washed over you, and you decided to run with it.

MSG Henry’s Phone: You can’t make something or someone a possession that doesn’t want to be possessed.

MSG Your Phone: I think you want to be possessed.

Scoffing, you shook your head and stared at the London Eye again and looked over the lights of the city.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Are you sure?

As soon as you sent the message, his phone chimed again, except this wasn’t a message from him. It was from Abby. Almost instantly, a sour taste filled your mouth, and your face reflected that. It was like a slap to your face telling you to wake the hell up and come back to reality. That was when your bitch face came out to play.

MSG Your Phone: Pretty sure, but you tell me.

MSG Henry’s Phone: You should call Abby. She’s sent you fourteen messages today, most recent right now. Goodbye, Henry.

Closing out messages, you gently tossed his phone onto the small table on the balcony, grabbed your glass, and looked out over the city.

For the next four days, any message he sent you ignored. The one thought that kept racing through your head was that there were currently two women that were continually texting him. Though you didn’t know the specifics of why the whole situation screamed messy. You didn’t do messy; you didn’t do love triangles or squares, you didn’t do anything that screamed complicated or distracting. You didn’t care how attracted you were to him. You wouldn’t compromise your ideals for anyone—not again.

When he changed his tactics from texting to calling, you ignored those too. You were tempted to answer, and on several occasions, you almost did until your stubbornness triumphed. You were victorious until one night in your room as you soaked in the tub after another long day. His phone rang loudly. Somehow you knew it was him. You didn’t know how, but you knew. When you reached for it and glanced at the screen, you loudly groaned as your suspicions proved correct. Closing your eyes, you tried to decide on if you’d answer or not.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” His voice sounded so damn good, and by the way, your belly flipped, you knew it agreed.

“Hey,” you nonchalantly replied.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Uh, not really. Not unless you call catching me in the bath a bad time,” you teased.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Henry quickly stammered.

“It’s fine. How can I help you?”

Yeah, it was slightly cold, but maybe cold was the right way to be. “Hello? Henry?”

You heard him release a puff of breath. You could imagine what it smelled like. You couldn’t picture it.

“Whew, this is the second time I’ve heard you say my name, and it had the same effect as the first time.”

Your belly again flipped. It was becoming a normal reaction to his words.

“What was the effect of the first time?”

He didn’t speak immediately, and after a minute of silence, you wondered if he would.

“So I’m about two weeks away from finishing reshoots and prep for season two for Witcher and I really, really need some time off. I had no idea how much the process had run me down. I am physically exhausted,” he mentioned.

“A lot of action, huh. I saw some episodes of the first season.”

“Nice. Yeah, it’s a lot of working out and fight training. It goes on and on,” he explained.

“Poor thing.” You were teasing him, and when he chuckled, you were glad he caught it and didn’t take offense from your condescending tone. The lite humor worked to ease away any tension in the air between you.

“This is strange. I’m talking to someone on their cell phone while they talk to me on mine.”

“I can see how that would be strange,” Henry replied.

Silence fell between you again. It was a mixture of a comfortable one and one of nervousness.

“I have to tell you before I miss my chance. You have the most amazing voice I have ever heard, and you’re an amazing artist.”

With a racing heart and a wide grin on your face, you closed your eyes and tried to get control over the butterflies in your belly. It took you several moments to get a grip. This was not the first time you’d gotten a compliment like this, but this was the first time it made you feel like this.

“Thank you. That’s—kind of you to say.”

“Just stating facts. I’ve always been a fan of your music,” Henry added.

“Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. How’s work?”

You sighed and dropped your head back on the cushion there. “Exhausting. I need a vacation or to stop getting on a plane. It takes a lot out of me,” you confessed.

“We both need a vacation it seems,” Henry began. The way his voice sounded had you lifting your head to read between the lines.

“Are you insinuating that we should take a vacation together?”

“I wasn’t insinuating anything. I was thinking it, though. Seems you read my mind. Sounds like a good idea.”

You snorted as soon as he finished. “How? We don’t know each other,” you piped up.

“What’s a better way to get to know each other than on vacation?”

Your jaw dropped. The man was insane. “You’re crazy. That’s a horrible idea.”

“Tomato, tomato.”

Your laugh was loud and almost uncontrollable. You had to give it to him, his sense of humor was top notch.

“Plus, after our date in a few days, we’ll know each other better,” Henry confidently slid in.

“What date?”

“The date you want to show up for when we exchange phones.”

Usually, this level of cockiness in a man was unattractive. You’d left plenty of them hanging for far less. With him, you found yourself not hating the cocky spiel maybe because it came off as something else—intoxicating confidence.

“I hear an accent, too,” Henry said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What accent?”

“An Australian one. It’s faint on most words but heavy on a few.” You smiled. You’d thought it had mainly disappeared by now.

“Not many people can hear it,” you clarified.

“I’m good with accents and languages. I know French, some Italian, a few words and phrases in German and Czech.”

You decided to test that theory.

“Combien de temps at-il fallu pour apprendre le français?” (How long did it take you to learn French?)

“Peu de temps peut être cinq mois.” (Not long maybe five months.) Henry responded in perfect French.

A thrill filled you.

"Und Deutsch?”

"Deutsch dauerte länger etwa acht Monate.” (German took longer about eight months) Henry replied in perfect enough German.

“You speak French and German?”

“A very little bit, trust me, it wasn’t my idea. You sound like a native, though,” you complimented.

“Thanks. I try.”

The longer you spoke, the more intrigued you became by him, and the more intrigued you became, the more attracted to him you became. You checked the phone and saw you’d already been talking for almost forty minutes. It didn’t feel nearly that long, though. You could hear his breathing through the phone. It wasn’t heavy breathing, but soft breaths that you imagines were pleasantly warm. When you thought it, you dropped your head back to the cushion in frustration.

“It’s pretty late here, and I have an early call tomorrow,” you began.

“Right, I’m sorry to have kept you up.”

“It’s okay—I guess.”

“All right, have a good night,” Henry ended.

“Goodbye, Henry.”

You ended the call and sank low in the water, but not low enough to wet your hair.

“I don’t need this now,” you groaned out before you slapped your hand on top of the water creating a small wave that splashed over the edge of the tub and cascaded onto the floor. You had to figure out a way to nip this in the bud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #black fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #slow burn fanfic

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alj4890 · 4 years ago

Text

And Then I Left You

(Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda) in a what if to the And Then I Met You

A/N This picks up directly at the end of Chapter 4 with Amanda’s reaction to Thomas’s *cough* dates. Seeing what is going on, someone very close to her decides to intervene and help the two find a way to be together.

@krsnlove @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @flyawayboo @trappedinfanfiction @everythingmarvelsherlockspn @sophxwithers @kate-mckenzie @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

Chapter 5 Strategic Planning

St Orella, Cordonia...

"No." Amanda softly moaned.

Her eyes wouldn't mind her in turning away from something she wished she didn't have to see.

She blindly reached for the remote control to turn the volume up.

Her daydreams and hopes crumbled to dust at seeing the footage of Thomas out with other women.

Gorgeous women.

There's no way I can ever compete with that, she thought. How did I deceive myself into believing I remotely had a chance to be with him?

To fall in love with me?

Blinking back tears she concentrated on the gossip show's host.

Thomas Hunt has been seen recently around town with a different beauty on his arm every night. It seems he is making up for lost time now that The Earl's Undoing script is completed. A source close to Hunt suspects that now that Amanda Bridgerton is back in Cordonia, he is more than ready to find his new personal leading lady.

Amanda dropped her head in her hands.

"What's wrong?"

She looked up to see Drake standing in the doorway with a newly arrived Liam. Both were staring at her in concern.

"Nothing." She forced a smile towards them as she rose to greet Liam. "How are you?"

Liam's eyes were narrowed in concern as he glanced at the television and then back at her face.

It only took seeing the images of Thomas out with various women for Drake to know what was going on.

The three turned toward the sound of Amanda's cell phone vibrating on an end table.

Taking a deep breath she strolled over and hesitated.

Thomas's name and image flashed.

She hit ignore.

"So?" She said a little too brightly. "How have--"

She had to hit ignore again.

"How have you been--"

She hit ignore a third time followed by swiping angrily at the text notifications from Thomas, Holly, and Addison. There was even one from Ryan Summers that she didn't bother to read.

"Would you like a moment alone or--" Drake began.

"Talk to us." Liam urged. "Please."

Turning her phone off, she sat down in a plush chair. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Yes, there is." Drake argued. "She's in love with--"

"Drake! Don't!"

"Thomas Hunt." He finished, ignoring her outburst. "Once this social season ended, she planned on telling him how she felt."

"I did not! I said I had considered it!" She gestured toward the television. "Now I don't have to. He's not interested."

"You don't know that." Liam argued.

"I think his being with numerous women points directly toward his lack of interest." Amanda’s voice held an unusual amount of bitterness.

Her mind went over the last few weeks of conversations with him.

"Oh no!" Her head dropped once more into her hands.

She had called and texted during some of those dates. How embarrassing to have told him I missed him and he...He hadn't even bothered to tell her he was out with someone else. Not that he needed to, she told herself, but still.

Liam placed his hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing. "Why don't you tell him?"

She laughed bitterly. "Because he clearly has more women than he knows how to handle and I wouldn't do that to you. You have enough scrutiny on you without adding to it a potential suitor desiring some Hollywood mogul." She patted his hand. "Besides, I was going to be the one lady you could use when you needed a break from the overly eager suitors. You won't have to worry about my wanting to be queen."

"I can't ask you to participate if you are in love with--"

"I'm fine." She stood up, dislodging his hand. "I'm better than fine. I know that my feelings are not reciprocated and I can move on from what is probably another crush."

Drake and Liam shared a look before watching her pace and argue the reasons why this was, in the end, a blessing of sorts.

"It's saved me a great deal of embarrassment and future heartache." She told them.

"So, you're fine?" Drake prodded.

"Yes." She said, not quite looking him in the eye.

"And that's why you wouldn't answer his calls? Because you're fine?" He added.

"It would have been rude of me to answer with you and Liam here." She straightened her shoulders. "I do have some manners."

"Uh huh." He quirked an eyebrow at Liam. "What do you think?"

"The lady doth protest too much." The prince responded.

"Liam!" She exclaimed.

Hudson cleared his throat from the doorway. "Forgive me your grace, but there is a Ms. Sinclair on the phone."

"Tell her I am unavailable." Amanda ordered.

"Yes, your grace." He bowed and left the room.

"Now then, what brought you to St Orella?"

"Amanda, you should tell Thomas--" Liam closed his mouth when she glared silently at him. "Actually, we came here to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" She repeated.

"Maxwell and I are taking Liam out for a bachelor party." Drake explained. "We want to do it now before nobles and the press make it more..."

"Toned down?" Liam offered.

"Yeah."

Amanda easily smiled at that. "Sounds like just what you need. How long will you be gone?"

"Two nights." Liam replied. "I finished with all i needed to do early before the Masquerade Ball."

"Good. You deserve a break before the storm hits." She hugged them both. "Have a wonderful time.”

"We plan on it." Drake replied.

*******************

An hour later, Amanda had curled up on her couch with a bowl of ice cream. She had finally found a movie that wouldn't make her think of Thomas and was just getting through the opening credits, when Hudson walked in once more.

"Lady Beaumont, your grace." He stepped back as a concerned Nadia scurried in.

"I heard about Thomas." She sat down and hugged Amanda. "How are you?"

The duchess had her usual, I'm fine, ready to say...but something about Nadia's earnest worry had her confessing everything.

Nadia accepted the bowl of ice cream Hudson had silently prepared with a brief smile of thanks.

"I can't believe he would choose those women over someone like you." She huffed loyally. "He must not be as smart as I thought."

Amanda swiped angrily at her tears. "You thought he was smart?"

"I," Nadia hesitated, "honestly, I thought he was in love with you."

"You did?” Amanda sat up straighter. “Why?”

"Whenever I saw you together in pictures, he looked so happy having you beside him." Nadia shrugged. "I really thought you had found your soulmate."

"Oh." Amanda's eyes filled with more tears. She too had begun to attach that description to Thomas. "You know what hurts even more?"

Nadia shook her head while wiping her sympathetic tears.

"He didn't tell me he was dating again." Amanda admitted. "I thought we had become such close friends while living together. I told him things I could never talk easily over with Liam or Drake, not even Maxwell." She bit down on her lip as the tears trickled down her cheeks. "Now I see that I wasn't merely foolish for falling in love, but even more so for thinking we were friends."

Nadia let out a sob as she threw her arms around her, hating to see her friend so heartbroken.

"Just wait until he comes to town." She vowed in a trembling voice. "We'll get Olivia and make him wish he had never betrayed your trust!"

Amanda laughed through her tears. "I doubt he would care." She reached for a box of tissues Hudson had quietly placed on the coffee table.

He cleared his throat to get her attention once more. "Her grace, the Duchess of Lythikos is here to see you."

Nadia whooped as she got up to greet Olivia.

"Just who we need!" She hugged the surprised redhead tight.

"Need?" Her frown became fierce when she noticed Amanda's tears. "What happened? Who made you cry?"

Between the two, Amanda and Nadia managed to share what had happened with Thomas.

Glaring at the magazines, Olivia tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. "What do you want to do to punish him?"

Amanda shook her head. "Nothing. I intend to treat him as he wants." Her chin firmed. "He means nothing more than a work place associate to me now.”

*********************

A few hours later, the royal jet...

"Wooo!" Maxwell pumped his fists in the air. "Look out Vegas! The Cordonians are taking over!"

Drake brought them a round of drinks. He sat down across from Liam and began to argue with Maxwell over what they should do first.

Liam, was studying something on his phone.

Seeing one of his friends so heartbroken had struck a nerve.

The last thing he wanted was to see her lose a chance at real happiness. He had suspected she was falling for the director and he had thought the man was in love with her. The photos and interviews of the two of them revealed, at least in Liam's opinion, how fond the director was of Amanda.

He couldn't allow her stubbornness to destroy a chance to have the one she was meant for.

"Liam?" Maxwell leaned over. "What are you looking at?"

"A slight detour." He slid out of his seat and went to inform his pilots of the first stop he wanted to make.

*****************

Thomas’s home, the next morning...

"I can't believe she won't even accept our calls." Holly muttered.

"I know." Addison sent another text message. "This isn't like Amanda."

"She had to have seen the news story." Holly took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. "I really wish we had not laid it on so thick about Thomas being down without her."

The two friends jumped when they heard Thomas slam his study door. Without a word, he prepared another pot of coffee.

"You want me to do that, boss?" Holly called out.

"No." He snapped.

"Have you heard from Amanda?" Addison had to fight from cringing when he focused his rage filled eyes upon her. "I needed to ask about if there were anymore paintings of Elizabeth she could..." She trailed off when his expression became darker.

"I have not been in contact with her." He grumbled.

"Oh." Addison slumped once more over a sketch of a day dress she had been working on.

"Her butler said she was unavailable again." She mumbled, causing him to pause in his tracks.

"Then she must be." He bit out.

"Do you think she saw your," Holly cleared her throat nervously, "activities?"

Thomas didn't bother answering. With one last glare he returned to his study.

****************

Many hours later...

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Drake asked.

"Amanda's temper isn't something I want to experience again." Maxwell shivered. "It might be a rare occurrence but she makes Olivia look like a teddy bear when she finally unleashes it."

"This must be done." Liam replied, knocking on the door.

******************

"Oh my gaaaawwwdddd!" Addison stared up at the prince she had only seen pictures of.

Liam turned toward her. "You must be the Ms. Sinclair I have heard so much about."

"You--you have heard--" Addison gaped "about me?! Prince Liam knows me?"

He kissed her hand and bowed. "Forgive us for coming unannounced, but I was hoping to speak to Mr. Hunt. I know he must be busy.” He smiled warmly at her. “I promise we won't take up too much of his time."

"Addison!" Thomas yelled out, "Who in the--" his eyes widened at the three men he instantly recognized on his doorstep.

"Mr. Hunt." Liam bowed his head in greeting. "Please forgive our intrusion, but I was hoping to speak to you on a delicate matter."

"Of course." Thomas ushered the men inside.

Liam greeted a stunned Holly before turning back to the director. "Is there somewhere more private we can talk?"

"We can leave if you need us to." Addison spoke up. "It's getting late anyway and--"

"No need." Thomas waved his hand down a hallway. "We can speak in my study."

Liam followed him, leaving Drake and Maxwell with Addison and Holly.

Once the door was heard clicking shut, the two ladies nearly pounced on the men.

"What is going on?" Holly whispered.

"Is this about Amanda? Thomas's recent dating?" Addison asked in quick succession. "How is she?"

"Well, it's um..." Drake hedged.

"Yep. It's all about them." Maxwell grunted when Drake elbowed him.

**************

"May I offer you anything to drink?" Thomas asked.

"No, thank you." Liam sat down across from him. "What I have to say hopefully won't take long."

"Is there a problem with my film crew coming to Cordonia next month?"

"Not at all. The country is excited to see Lady Amanda's novel turned into a movie."

Thomas leaned forward and folded his arms on his desk. "Is something else wrong?" His curiosity turned to concern. "Something hasn't happened to Amanda, has it? I haven't been able to get ahold of her and--"

Liam raised his hand to silence him. "What I have to say does involve her." His typically warm gaze hardened, turning the blue eyes to ice chips. "What is your relationship with Amanda?"

"My relationship?" Thomas uttered in disbelief.

"Yes." Liam snapped. "What is it?"

"We worked together and formed a friendship." Thomas narrowed his eyes at the prince. "Why?"

"Did Amanda ever share with you why she returned to Cordonia earlier than planned?" Liam countered.

"No. Only that she needed to take care of things before the social season began."

Liam's lips eased into a reluctant grin. "She has always been trustworthy."

Thomas lifted his eyebrows in silent question.

"My brother abdicated the throne." Liam explained.

Thomas still was in the dark over what this had to do with Amanda.

"Being Cordonia's future king, I have to take part in choosing a bride." When Thomas still appeared to be perplexed, Liam continued. "One from either the noble ladies of Cordonia or those that come to participate."

Thomas slumped back in his seat, stunned when it hit him. "Amanda is one of your choices?"

"Yes." Liam studied the man closely.

He looked as if his entire world had shifted.

"Given our friendship," Liam added, "I don't want to choose her and force her into giving up someone she cares for...and who in turn wants a future with her."

Thomas rubbed a hand down his face.

All his plans to tell her that she was the only one he wanted were destroyed with one conversation.

Why didn't I tell her? Why did I insist on making certain by going out on dates?

"So I ask you again?" Liam leaned forward. "What is your relationship with Amanda?"

Thomas realized the prince was giving him one last chance. "I'm in love with her."

Liam slowly smiled. "Good. Here's what we will need to do."

******************

The Masquerade Ball, The Royal Palace...

"This is incredible." Nadia gripped Maxwell's arm. "My first ball in Cordonia!"

He chuckled while kissing her cheek. "You look like you belong here."

She softly squealed before turning toward Riley. "Ready to see your Prince Charming again?"

"I am.” Her smile was filled with excitement. “We had plans to meet up again in New York before his brother abdicated."

"I think the only two more starry eyed than us during our wedding was you and Liam." Maxwell winked at her. "He will be thrilled you are taking part in this."

Riley smoothed her dress and took a deep breath. "I hope so." With a final smile toward the couple, she got in line to greet the King and Liam.

"This is so exciting!" Nadia whispered. "We will actually get to see them falling in love."

"I think I can make this even better." Maxwell whispered back.

"You know I think you can do anything," Nadia told him, "but I don't see how you could possibly make this better."

"How about watching and assisting two couples in their falling in love?"

"Two?" She blinked in surprise. "Who else--"

He cleared his throat and nodded toward Amanda.

"But...who? How?" Nadia gasped when she noticed a masked man making his way toward the duchess. "Is that..."

"It is." Maxwell grinned proudly. "We stopped off in Hol--" he stared in shock at his petite wife jerking away and rushing over to Amanda.

He could tell just by the set of her shoulders that she was livid at seeing the director intent on speaking to Amanda.

***************

"Thank you." Amanda said when the waiter paused to exchange her empty champagne flute for a filled one.

Taking a sip, she watched the couples swaying in time on the dance floor.

It was usually a sight that brought a smile to her face. Even as a little girl, she loved seeing the nobles dressed up, dancing under the sparkling chandeliers.

But tonight, she felt...numb. Nothing. Every action she did seemed to be nothing more than muscle memory. The curtsies. The smiles. The banal conversations. Everything was done on autopilot.

Since she refused to think on Thomas Hunt and his gaggle of ladies, there was little else to draw her attention.

"Amanda!"

She lifted her eyes to Nadia, waving and trying to push past nobles to get to her.

Wondering why she was in such a hurry, Amanda stepped forward. Her eyes dropped down on the hand that grasped her arm.

They then lifted up to the face she knew she would always recognize, regardless of the simple black demi mask upon it.

"Good evening." Thomas softly smiled at her. "I have--"

"What are you doing here?" Amanda asked.

Thomas looked about. "Is there somewhere we can go to talk?"

"Alone?" She asked.

"Yes." His hand slid down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he took her hand. "There is something I need to tell you."

"No." She pulled her hand away. "There isn't anything you need to tell me.”

His eyes widened. "But I--"

"Excuse me." She muttered, gathering her skirt. "I need to--"

"Amanda, please." He grasped her arm again. "I tried calling you. I--"

"I've been busy." She snapped. "And so have you."

"I haven't--"

"Thomas!"

They both turned to see an unmasked actress.

One Thomas had a dinner date with two weeks ago.

"Simone?" He said in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"I had a photoshoot with Ana De Luca." She replied. "She then got me an invitation." Her sultry gaze drifted down his body. "I'm glad she did."

Amanda did not want to be part of their touching reunion.

"Excuse me." Amanda said once more. "I must--"

"Excuse us." Thomas corrected. "Enjoy your evening, Simone."

"I plan on it." She winked at him before following a handsome noble to the bar.

"Will you let go of me?!" Amanda hissed.

"Not until you hear me out." He replied, his own impatience coming forth. "I--"

"Are you no longer directing The Earl's Undoing?"

"What? Of course I'm still the director." He guided her toward a secluded corner.

She folded her arms. "Are you still planning on filming in Cordonia?"

"I am." He tilted his head as he gazed down at her, confused over her line of questioning.

"Is there anything wrong with the script?"

"No."

Her lips firmed into a thin line. "Then I don't see what we have to discuss. Now if you will finally excuse me, I must make my rounds."

Thomas refused to budge.

"You must have seen the news story about my," he swallowed, "my--"

"I did." Her eyes narrowed. "I suppose I should apologize."

"Apologize?" Thomas blinked.

"Yes." Amanda lowered her eyes. "I kept you from..." She took a steadying breath. "From being able to go out whenever you pleased."

"You didn't--"

"Then again," she interrupted, "I never demanded that you stay home with me every night." Her eyes flashed with barely restrained temper. "You could have done whatever you wanted."

"I did do exactly as I wanted." He snapped. "If you will give me a chance to explain why I--"

"You owe me no explanation, Mr. Hunt." She forced a friendly smile at him. "I'm nothing to you. We collaborated on a film." She shrugged her shoulders. "At least we got along well while working together. That is all anyone can hope for."

"You will let me have my say." Thomas said in a tone that intimidated everyone he knew.

He should have known that it would be ineffective on the stubborn woman he loved.

"Oh I will?" Her chin lifted. "You have another think coming, Mr. Hunt."

"Thomas." He snapped. "Do not pretend that we aren't on a first name basis."

"Mr. Hunt!" She said just to further frustrate him. "I cannot spend all night in this corner listening to you going on about your dates."

"They weren't dates!" He nearly strangled on trying to keep his voice low.

"Oh really?" Her eyebrows lifted. "Then what were they?"

"They were dates in a sense, but I was using them to--"

She brushed past him.

Using her years of easily maneuvering her way through crowded ballrooms, she lost him within a few quick turns.

Amanda nearly screamed when a hand grasped hers.

Nadia immediately let her go. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't." Amanda lifted a shaky hand to her forehead. "I think I need some air."

Nadia wrapped her arm around her waist. "I'll come with you."

***************

"I don't say this lightly," Drake thrust a drink in Thomas's hand, "but that was painful to watch."

Maxwell clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Were you able to say anything?"

"Nothing that will endear myself to her." Thomas winced at the welcome burn of whiskey going down his throat. "She didn't give me a chance to explain why I was here. She said..." He finished off his drink. "I have to fix this."

"We'll see what Liam thinks." Maxwell offered, motioning towards the bartender for a refill.

"He has enough to contend with. This chance to talk to her should be all I need." Thomas responded. "I knew Amanda had a stubborn streak but I had no idea she could be so..."

"Bullheaded?" Drake offered.

"Mulish?" Maxwell added.

"Yes." Thomas pushed his empty glass away. "I'll try again later."

"There's always the other upcoming events." Drake reminded him. "Bound to be one where she can't escape."

"I hope so." Thomas mumbled his thanks and went back into the crowd to try and find her.

"You think he's going to need help?" Maxwell asked.

"Yep." Drake snorted. "Amanda's determination to keep him away is going to be a problem."

****************

"He's here?!" Olivia peeked through a window. "Why? How did he get invited to the palace?"

"I don't know." Amanda folded her arms.

"You didn't ask?"

"No."

"Why?"

Amanda glared at her. "Why do you think?"

"Oh Amanda." Olivia closed her eyes. "Have you learned nothing from me? You have to know everything about your enemies. Which means questioning them!"

Amanda rolled her eyes. "I feel differently. I don't want to know why he and his actress are here."

Nadia stood on tiptoe to peep into the ballroom. "But they didn't come together."

"And he didn't leave you to be with her." Olivia reluctantly added.

"I don't care." Amanda huffed. "He can do whatever he wants. I just don't want to know or hear or --"

"Who's that dancing with Liam?" Olivia interrupted.

"That's my friend from New York!" Nadia replied. "Riley Brooks. House Beaumont is sponsoring her."

Olivia's eyes narrowed. "I see." She ducked when Drake strolled by with Thomas. "What are you going to do for the remainder of the ball? Hide out here?"

Amanda shook her head. "I'm going to my room. He can't follow me there."

"We'll see you first thing in the morning." Nadia promised. "We won't let Thomas bother you at the derby, will we?"

"I'll come to your room and escort you to the boutique.” Olivia decided. “I doubt he's learned all the ways to get around in the palace."

Amanda hugged them both goodnight. "Thank you. I doubt he'll try to speak to me again. I'm sure his beautiful Simone will keep him occupied."

"I doubt that." Olivia muttered when she noticed the actress openly flirting with numerous nobles.

*****************

"Where could she be?" Thomas whispered.

"She isn't outside." Maxwell reported. "But if Nadia and Olivia's frowns were any indication, she was out there at some point."

"She must have retired for the evening." Liam scanned the ballroom. "Tomorrow we will make certain she doesn't escape."

Drake nodded. "Even if we have to corner her."

Thomas thanked them. "I believe I will go to my room also." Saying goodnight, he slipped out the ballroom door and made his way upstairs to his guestroom.

"You better find someone to dance with before Penelope traps you in another poodle conversation." Drake warned Liam when he noticed the dog loving lady approaching them.

Patting his shoulder in thanks, the prince disappeared behind his friends and searched for Riley.

******************

Thomas felt his hope drop once he was alone in his room. Amanda's cold reaction to seeing him again surprised him. He had expected anger, even hoped she would accuse him so he could explain everything to her. This icy disdain was a hurdle he wasn't certain he could overcome.

If he could only find a crack, he would prove to her that she was the only one he wanted. He would tell her how every women he had been photographed with fell by the wayside when compared to her. They couldn't begin to measure up to Amanda.

Thomas began to undress while pulling his phone out with a wish she would text him. Call him. Even if it was to let him know how hurt she was. Give him some glimmer of a possible chance to be with her.

Just when he was about to turn his phone off, it vibrated.

Seeing Amanda's name in the notification caused his heart to beat faster in anticipation.

Opening the message, he felt the hope he so desperately wanted.

Mr. Hunt, I hope that whatever caused you to feel the need to speak to me about your private affairs will not be repeated tomorrow. As I stated earlier, it is no business of mine what you do. I think we should be able to remain civil if you leave me alone. I will uphold my end of our arrangement with the film when the time comes. Other than that, we have nothing more to say to one another.

He quirked an eyebrow. Little did she know how pleased he was to have irritated her this much. Now Thomas knew how to get a reaction out of her.

He was going to pester her into falling back in love with him.

#and then I left you #Thomas Hunt #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #choices the royal romance #choices red carpet diaries #choices crossover #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #maxwell beaumont #liam #trr liam #liam x riley #choices fanfic #nadia park #maxwell beaumont x nadia park #thomas hunt rcd

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equallyloyalandlethal · 4 years ago

Text

Thiam Drabble #6

What’s Enough?

The air around Theo thickened as he stepped back from the hospital bed, hands curling into white-knuckled fists at his side. He hated being here. Everything was clinically sterile, but the sharp smell and fear that couldn’t be washed out or masked just due to the sheer volume saturating every inch of the building.

“I’m—I’m sorry. I'm not who you need,” he said, shaking his head again.

This whole situation was his fault. He knew it, and so did everyone else. Everyone except Liam. Stupid, infuriating, forgiving Liam who rivaled Scott’s tendency for seeing the better side of people. This should have finally woken Liam up enough for the wolf to tell him to fuck off and put the kibosh on whatever this thing was between them. Unfortunately, he overestimated the level of rationality he was capable of. That and and Liam’s engrained stubbornness far exceeded what Theo could talk around with the state his animals were in.

The coyote was still screaming for blood, itching to track down the idiot who landed the blows and rend him limb from limb, while his wolf wanted nothing more than to plant himself next to Liam and not move again. They were ripping him in two in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time. Merging their desires wasn’t hard, most of the time. Survival was the coyote’s main instinct, which was easy enough to twist around when he needed to. The wolf was harder. Those instincts screamed about pack and connection louder than anything else. Before he was thrown in Hell he could manipulate it well enough. But since then…

He huffed, dreaded the moment both of them got on the same page, what with his self-control reserves at an all time low.

"But you're who I want. Isn't that enough?” Liam’s question was so quiet, he wouldn’t have thought he had said it at all if he wasn’t in the room.

He shrank back a step, turning his head away as his eyes started to prickle. Where was the chimera that murdered his friends without a care, who schemed his way into a pack by breaking up a lifelong friendship? Hot tears gathered at the corner of his eyes, damn near burning his skin the longer he let them sit there. Wiping them away would mean acknowledging them, which he was not about to do. He had a reputation to maintain.

“Theo scrunched his face, hating the sharp sourness leeching into Liam’s scent, his chest clenched, like a vise-grip was tightening around, knowing he caused the hurt. “Besides, it’s not like I ever really belonged here anyway.”

“Wait.” Liam sat up so abruptly Theo cringed internally at the thought of how the stitches had to have pulled. “You’re leaving?”

The way his voice nearly broke, straining to get the words out before the pain and fear overtook the ability, made Theo flinch. This was supposed to keep Liam from being hurt, not make it worse. It’s all I’m good at, he grumped to himself, teeth grinding. It didn’t matter how much he changed in Hell, he would never be good or even good enough. Failure was the name of his game, and there was no changing it.

“Yes,” he said as he forced his head to turn and lifted his eyes.

Regret zinged through him as Liam met his gaze. Instead of the rough, volatile anger he was ready to battle against, he found soft brows and pained, glassy eyes. He took a breath to steady himself, only to be gut-punched by the sharp tang of Liam’s pain.

Tears rolled down both their cheeks.

“Theo, please—”

“You almost died because I’m a freak of nature, because I couldn’t step up, because I—” He grimaced as words caught in his throat, hating how it let him think about the words that nearly flew out of him.

Silence stretched between them, grating at his nerves more than the tears he couldn’t stop. His wolf and coyote were howling in unison, damn near screaming their want for the human version of sunshine laying in the hospital bed. He couldn’t listen to them, not this time, not after the woods.

“The best thing I can do is leave,” he said, turning to the door.

“That’s absolute bullshit,” Liam snapped, the growl in his words making Theo stop and look back at him. “You’re afraid and you’re running the other direction, just like with the Ghost Riders.”

He bit at the inside of his lips, trying to stop himself from back sliding the small distance he had managed to put between them. The hurt puppy-dog eyes Liam was giving him were decidedly not helping his resolve in the slightest.

“You put on a brave face, convincing everyone you’re happy on your own, but the truth is you’re terrified of any emotional connection.” Liam paused as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing and letting out a near inaudible squeak.

“Get back in bed before Melissa tranqs you.” Theo meant to say it as a threat, but the awkward tightness in his throat made it sound more like he was pleading.

As usual, Liam threw caution to the wind, white-knuckling the bed as he stood, never dropping his eyes from Theo’s. “Do you even know what love feels like?”

He couldn’t stop the snarl that ripped from him as his eyes flashed gold. Of course he knew! That’s why this whole mess was killing him. If he didn’t, nothing would have changed. Everything he was now started with that stupid emotion.

“When would I have had the chance to learn about it, huh? Between them shoving needles in my arms and opening my chest over and over and over again? When they praised my initiative for tearing out a failing chimera’s throat for the first time with no prompting? After I lied to yet another kid they conned into their clutches and told them it’d all be okay, despite the stench of death leaking out along with their black blood?”

His heart tightened at the memory of the sweet little girl, too young and innocent for such a wretched end. It was the only time his sister’s heart roared to life in all his years with the Doctors. She was so gentle. Too much so.

A roaring snarl ripped out of Theo as he shoved away her last moments, ignoring how his scar burned where her tiny fingers had grazed the skin. “I think I’m in love with you, but I’m not good enough. I never will be,” he said, turning away again. “And that sc—” He stumbled over the word, grinding his teeth, fighting against finishing the sentence. “It terrifies me, okay? It makes me shit bricks every time you go near a fight and paralyzes me when I think about losing you because I don’t want to go back to classic Theo but I don’t know how else I’d survive without you.”

For a moment he stood there, frozen. Those words had barely been given shape as thoughts. They weren’t supposed to leap out so readily! He shrank back, arms cinched across his chest like he could hold himself together through sheer force of will as he fought against his shoulders rolling forward.

He jerked back, claws and fangs dropping in a blink, as something touched his cheek. Luckily his head caught up in time to not rip through the already injured Liam standing right in front of him. Right in front, less than an arm’s length between them, with a soft smile he only ever saw once directed at someone that was definitely not him.

“Li—”

“No talking. Just listen, okay?” Liam moved his thumb to sit on Theo’s lips, effectively silencing the chimera. “I don’t care what you think of yourself, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You came back from so much trauma, shit that most people won’t even experience a sliver of in their whole lives, and you’ve been trying to do better every single day since I brought you back. There’s not a person alive, or dead, that I could ever feel safer with or more in love with than you, Theo.”

One second stretched into two, silent except for their erratic heartbeats. For once, his head was as quiet as the room, no instincts screaming at him to act differently. Instead, his inner wolf was damn near purring, overjoyed at the warm hand on his cheek, and the coyote was begrudgingly admitting that it agreed with this turn of events. Of all the times for you two to agree, he huffed, slowly closing his eyes and leaning into Liam’s touch.

Even he couldn’t argue how right it felt, but that didn’t mean his stomach knotted itself any less or the tremors in his hand subsided in the least. Letting positivity in had yet to end well for him or anyone else involved, and Liam was a positive in his life. The most positive thing, actually. The man was sunshine incarnate, just like that stupid princess movie he made them watch the other day. If whoever she was could help a shifty, no-good thief redeem themselves, maybe he could trust his sunshine to do the same.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28894329

#thiam #angst #theo raeken liam dunbar #Theo raeken needs a hug #Why do my teen wolf things end up with someone in the hospital?#Liam DunbarXTheo Raeken #Theo needs some self-esteem #Liam is sunshine #God i love these idiots #posted on AO3 #teen wolf #liam dunbar

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