#this morning after she stated her runaway plan was a genuine surprise

[asyourshadowfalls]

ode to the 8 year old who has had running away on her mind all day. this is where such an insulated life really sucks. is your life perfect, kid? no. but considering your reasons (everyone in the house is annoying /fair i agree but alas everyone is annoying with too much exposure) that is not an issue you can avoid, and it certainly won't be missing in any family you move in with. that best friend is gonna be your enemy real quick (especially since youve already told me she's a bully to her little brother and has been rude to you) the interactions you hate are the ones that result from your own choices. they will only change when you start listening and thinking before reacting. it ain't easier but the more you practice it the better you'll be. and man do i wish you had any experience with sleepovers at other peoples houses or hell even just observing how other families interacted with each other in private because honey, you aren't even yelled at in this house,barring when someone is in imminent danger from your actions. and the family you want to live with has a giant confederate flag in their window so best not have that as your guardian

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter seventeen - “wouldn’t dream of it”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: reader has a strange dream that ends up bringing on a cascade of various events and feelings.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

A/N: feel free to drop any opinions/thoughts/predictions below (or in my asks if u wanna be anonymous!!)

She would have woken up from a night's sleep saturated with regret... if she had slept a wink. She spent the night tossing and turning, and at about five in the morning, the pursuit of rest was abandoned.

Forcefully and exasperatedly, she sat straight up, glaring at the clock and letting the blanket pool around her waist. Y/N had her weekly meeting with Shuri at nine o'clock... that meant four hours to kill. More like four more hours of trudging through thoughts, memories, questions, and fears surrounding the previous day. Four more hours of ruminating over Bucky Barnes. This seemed to become a reoccurring activity her life.

She stared at the wall, thinking about how before, there was at least the excuse of being drunk: maybe not completely knowing what she was doing, maybe not remembering something correctly. But they were sober this time... she was sober. And what struck her was that, when it happened, when he kissed her, there was no moment of initial startle. There was no surprise jerk back or woah-what-are-you-doing response. Their bodies just fell into form. She just fell into form. Like it was an instinct. Like they were both used to it, and had done it a number of times before.

She wasn't sure what shocked her more: the fact that he kissed her or the fact that she kissed him back. Was he being bold? Or did she lead him on? Had she been leading him on? He wouldn't have done it on his own account, right? She had a degree of difficulty in believing she was wanted. Truly.

She could've sworn that she wasn't this emotionally invested. She could've sworn that if she couldn't control what she was feeling, she could at least control what she was doing. She rubbed her eyes, wondering where she went so wrong. It probably happened at some point during the isolated time she had been spending with Bucky in a secret corner of the world, not minding the least bit that she had been away from home and work for months whilst working on a project hardly anyone else was even aware of.

Even with all this in mind, she didn't seem to care. She didn't really mind that she hadn't been home in ages, it didn't really bother her that she might be in trouble when she gets back for helping enemy of the state Sharon Carter, runaway fugitive Steve Rogers, or war criminal James Buchanan Barnes. Because every time she thought about the consequences, it just didn't seem to matter more than what was keeping her in Wakanda... Besides, she guessed Bucky would probably be pardoned and after everything settled down, who would pay any attention to her? It's not like she mattered in the grand scheme.

As soon as that very thought arose, she could hear Bucky's voice scolding her in the back of her head. Why was he always there?

Frustrated, she groaned into the air in front of her. Her feelings were so confusing, she wasn't even sure what exactly it was she felt towards Bucky. On one hand, she felt fiercely protective over him: she'd go down fighting before she'd let anyone lay a hand on him, prepared to stay in his corner forever, ready on defense.

But at the same time, she felt this ineffable sense of warmth for him. Like one look at the way his eyes crinkle when he smiled, and she'd turn soft as water. Like being in his vicinity smoothed out the rough around her edges.

And if all this wasn't enough, now she had been touched by him, she had felt his lips and the gentleness in his skin. This brought a cascade of new feelings, ones she knew she had to hide. It... was definitely a problem. She knew, don't get her wrong, she knew it was a problem. As much as she understood this irrefutable fact, the numbness in her lips just wouldn't go away. He had remained with her even hours later. She couldn't get rid of his heartbeat; it was still in her hand. She could still feel him.

Basically, she knew this most recent development was an issue. She knew it was bad, wrong, worrisome, and whatever else. And knowing this, recognizing the very hot water she was in, the only thing she could focus on was trying to ignore the recurrent desire to be near him, to find him and be close to him.

"Fuck."

She plopped back down on her back and elected to cast a burning glare at the ceiling until she had to get ready for her meeting.

—

"I think it might be too hot for this," she complained with a smile on her face.

"It was your idea," he said, a few steps ahead of her, "and we're almost there, so buck up."

She laughed. He smiled at the sound.

"What?" he asked.

"You said buck up. Like Buck... Bucky. Like you."

He just looked at her, amused. Sun kissed and happy.

"It's fitting," she shrugged, grinning.

"Guess so. Hurry up, slow poke. You're gonna fall behind."

"I'm already behind," she huffed . "Your super soldier legs are too fast for me."

"Well," he stopped short and she finally caught up, standing right beside him, "we're here. So worry not."

He looked over at her to find her already looking at him. Funny how their eyes always found each other like that.

"What?" he asked again, not able to help how the corners of his mouth turned up just slightly.

"Nothin.’ Everything," she shrugged. "You."

Perhaps she just liked looking at him. Him and his long hair and light eyes. Was that such a crime? His skin looked caramelized under the sun. She wanted to reach out and touch him.

"You're a real peach, y'know that?" he smirked.

She looked away, pretending to find the grass around them spectacularly interesting while hiding a dopey smile at his compliment.

"Hey, doll face. I'm a lot more fun than the grass, I swear," he teased. "Lemme see my favorite face."

"Hold on." She got an idea.

She reached down beside her and plucked a flower from the soil.

"A little hibiscus," she smiled, tucking the small flower behind his ear. God, he was just so pretty.

She stood back, satisfied with her decor. She sighed, content. How couldn't she be? She was looking at two of the most beautiful things. Flowers and Bucky.

As soon as it was securely in place, Bucky bent down to pick the hibiscus that sat right next to the one Y/N chose. Mirroring her actions, he placed it behind her ear.

"A little hibiscus," he repeated fondly, "for a real peach!"

She didn't dare try to hide the next dopey grin while taking in the sight before her, of Bucky beaming in the sunlight with a flower in his hair. Looking at this, she understood why mankind began to paint. Why there needed to be someway to capture something as precious as this, some method of preserving something so idyllic and beautiful and pure and perfect.

Perfect like the cool, fresh water of the lake. Their lake. Their place. The flowing, breathing water she felt around her waist. They floated around, her and Bucky, as light as air in that lake.

The two were weightless, adoration suspended in animation. The water preserved the feeling of feather light kisses and chests pressed together and hands beginning to roam. If only she could be closer to him. Her fingers in his hair and his palms on either side of her face wasn't enough. She needed more. More, more, more of him.

Skin is so soft and the sun is so warm and soon enough, the water was up to her shoulders as his arms ran up her back. Arms plural, she noticed. He held her with both, protectively enclosing the longing feeling between them.

"Oh, fucking hell!" Y/N sprang up, throwing the blanket off of her.

She must've fallen asleep... and began to dream... She could imagine if her brain was a person, it'd be laughing at her for that.

Why? Why? What was the reason for this? There was no point! How frustrating! How embarrassing that her mind betrayed her with dreams of him.

"God damn it," she swore under her breath.

She wanted to angrily shake her fist in the air like vengeful cartoon character, as she got out of bed and headed towards her wardrobe.

It was 8 a.m. One hour until her meeting with Shuri. She would spend the time changing her outfit until it was distracting enough to draw her attention away from thoughts of that damn lake... and his damn hands...

—

"My friend!" Shuri greeted in her usual upbeat manner. "How are you? How are things?"

There was absolutely no way to answer this honestly.

"I'm doin' well. Same old, same old. How 'bout you?"

"Good as always," she smiled. "Thank you."

Y/N took a seat at one of the tables in Shuri's lab. "So how is T'Challa doing with Nakia?"

"Oh, who knows these days! He is so awkward, I have no idea!"

They both laughed. Y/N was glad she and Shuri were able to talk like this. They weren't just robotic colleagues who only communicated when they needed to. They were partners, and they worked well together.

The meeting commenced like it did every other week. Updates on Bucky's progress, new ideas or adjustments to treatment or planning, going over scans or data, you name it. But this time, she had something else in mind. Something that a dream reminded her of. She had mentioned maybe getting her hands on a prosthetic for Bucky. She wasn’t familiar with the prosthetics industry in Wakanda, but they could probably make something work.

Was that too much? Did she care too much? Was she showing too much regard for him? Was this too much to ask of her?

"Hey, remember a couple weeks ago when I talked about prosthetics?"

"Of course," Shuri smiled. She genuinely enjoyed her partner - her partner who was intelligent, confident, and articulate but still sometimes sounded shy. "You wanna see what I've been working on?"

"You... you ordered one? I didn't-"

"Oh, no. Not ordered. Just you wait," she said, pulling out a drawer to dig amongst papers. "I've been workin' my magic."

Shuri pulled out a manilla folder that had W.W. - Proj. 1 printed on it.

She dropped the folder in front of the psychologist who sat across from her, gesturing for her to look through it. Y/N opened it to see several pages of prosthetics research, information on cybernetics and various designs for a bionic arm.

"Oh... wow." Y/N marveled.

"What do you think?"

"It's incredible," Y/N shook her head. "I didn't- ... I thought you meant you bought one or something. I didn't know you designed one"

"I didn't just design it. I made it."

"You- what?"

"Yep. First model ready for use. Do you want to see it?"

"I'd love to."

Shuri walked her over to a large, rectangular case in the side of the lab.

"Holy shit," she let slip.

The arm was astounding: a glossy black with ridges etched in a shiny gold. It glimmered, sitting in its casing.

Shuri laughed. Thank you."

"Sorry. Excuse my French. This is... remarkable. Can I give it to him?"

"I suppose so. It hasn't got much use just sitting in my lab."

Excitement grew in her chest. Bucky would be able to have an arm he was in control of, one that wasn't forcefully attached to him and used as a weapon. In a way, he would be gaining a sense of autonomy. God, she wanted to see him right away and tell him the news. She was happy to make Bucky happy.

"Oh," Shuri perked her head up. "And there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You're aware of the trigger words, correct?"

"Of course."

"I'm close to fully deconstructing the mind control, but there's no way to know for sure unless we test it out..."

Oh. The excitement dissipated and her stomach dropped. She didn't mean...

"You don't mean..."

"The effect and response of the words needs to be tested on him."

Oh God. There was no way this would be easy.

"And you need to be the one to do it."

Fuck.

"Me?" she tried to hide her shock, her worry, her now overwhelming urge to protect him. "How come?"

"It seems like he trusts you most out of everyone here. I consulted with the Doras about safety and we think that if something were to go wrong, it'd be safest to happen with you. Of course they'll be nearby, but you'd be the one mostly likely to be able to control him in that state."

Her mouth went dry. Control him? She could never. She would never. She knew, in depth, the anguish he carried in his bones as a result of being trapped as a weapon wielded by other people. The thought of her controlling him made her skin crawl.

She knew how much he feared the Winter Soldier and how he would hate losing touch with himself again. He's been free from this kind of violation for a while now; she had very much rather not take that freedom away.

At the same time, she understood how this test was necessary for a full recovery and rehabilitation. And who knows if the words will even work? Maybe she'll say them and nothing will even happen.

He would have to get over this obstacle in order to make it to the other side clean. She could only imagine how scary this would be for him. But she'd be damned if she wasn't going to be right there with him.

"Okay," she said dryly. "When... when are we gonna do this?"

"Not yet but soon. I'll keep you updated."

The rest of the meeting carried on as usual, but Y/N might as well have not even been there. Her mind was off. Off somewhere trying to think of how to tell Bucky the news. The very last thing in the world she wanted to do was hurt him. She'd take his place if she could.

—

As soon as she was free from the calm, professional facade she had going with Shuri, she found herself speed walking back to where Bucky was. She needed to get to him. Now.

When his hut was in sight, she was nervous. She was nervous before, she supposed. She just wanted everything to be okay.

"Buck," she called, a few steps away from the entryway. "I need to talk to you!"

When she stepped inside she froze in place, staring blankly at the two super soldiers in front of her instead of the one she expected. Two as in Bucky and Steve.

"Y/N," Bucky stood up. He sounded surprised.

"Oh-uh," she stuttered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I can come back later."

"That's okay," Steve's voice was gentle. "I'll leave you... to it."

Steve threw Bucky a look she couldn't quite decipher before he left. Bucky just looked panicked.

And soon enough they were alone. They stood directly in front of each other, but with a noticeably awkward amount of space between them. The tiny part of her brain that was still mulling over the dream wanted him closer.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey..."

"You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "It's uh... there's kind of a lot."

"Look, about yesterday, I-"

Oh. She completely forgot about that. Well, not completely. There was no way she could forget that. But, at the moment there were more pressing matters on her mind.

"It's not about yesterday."

"It's...not?"

"No. I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Uh... bad news?"

She took a steady breath in. She wasn't sure exactly how to tell him, she just knew he needed to know. He deserved nothing but the truth.

"So, I was just with Shuri and we discussed the next step in your treatment..."

He said nothing, waiting for the aforementioned "bad news." She continued.

"Apparently, we have to test the trigger words on you..."

His expression dropped and she watched all the color drain from his face.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't wanna do it, but we have to do it to see if it's really outta your head."

"Yeah, that's the problem," he finally spoke. "What if it's not? Then I hurt someone - or multiple people. There's gotta be some other way to test it."

"You're not going to hurt anyone. Or multiple people."

"How can you say that?"

"It's just gonna be the two of us."

"What?!"

"Shuri thought the safest way of doing this was for me to conduct the test. That way, if things ever got out of hand, which is very unlikely to happen, I'd be the best bet at... handling... that situation. Since you know me the best."

"No way. There's no way. I thought you meant they were gonna strap me down and have some lab tech read them. This is way too unsafe-"

"Strap you down? Bucky, no-"

He still saw himself as an animal that needed to be contained. Muzzled.

"What if I hurt you?" his voice shook just a little.

The fear in his eyes was potent. It made her angry. Angry at Hydra and whoever the fuck else had a hand in this sin against the kind and gentle man who stood before her. The man who was genuinely scared of himself. How dare they make him feel so unsafe within his own mind, within his own body. All she wanted to do was make it better, and suddenly, she could no longer stand for the distance between them. She stepped forward and grasped his hand between both of hers.

"I trust you, Buck," she smiled a small but earnest smile, letting him know that she truly was here for him. "Entirely. I promise. Okay?"

He nodded, still reluctant and entirely scared.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"I do. I trust you, I do," he cast his glance downwards, almost in shame. "It's myself I don't trust."

Her chest twisted with an emotion difficult to place. Mostly, it was the desire to take every ounce of pain away. She wished she could just snap her fingers and make it fade into nothing.

"That's okay," she said.

He looked back up at her, confused.

"You don't have to trust yourself. That's hard enough as it is and Hydra didn't make it any easier. You just trust me, alright? I'm the one reading the words, so, even though I'd hate it, if you were to be... activated... you'd be listening to me not trying to fight me," she squeezed his hand. "And I will not let anything happen to you."

"I'm not worried about me..."

She knew. She was not stupid; she knew that Bucky was separate from the Winter Soldier and that theoretically, the Winter Soldier - and only the Winter Soldier - had the potential to hurt her. She wasn't blind to the dangers, but she also wasn't blind to the fact that there was no exact science to brainwashing. Whos to say nothing could ever seep through the programming? She knew what happened with Bucky when he was forced to fight Steve for the first time. How it changed him.

Even though the Winter Soldier was in there, there was more of Bucky. She knew that for sure. And she needed to make sure he knew one thing: even if the Winter Soldier was trying to claw his way back and entire world was against him, she saw Bucky and trusted Bucky and believed in Bucky. She was a constant. And she wouldn’t give up on him.

"What, you're worried about me?" she joked, lightheartedly. She took the hand she was holding and pressed it against her cheek. "This wouldn't hurt me, James Buchanan."

He sighed, feeling the warmth from her face. He did not deserve this kindness and he definitely did not trust himself despite her trust in him. Of course Bucky would never hurt her. But Bucky wasn't the Winter Soldier. And he didn't have the heart to tell her what the Winter Soldier could or would do. He didn't have the stomach to even think about what would happen if the Winter Soldier actually did something.

But there was something about the way she believed in him, the way her conviction was so strong. It made him almost start to doubt these feelings. He could never be sure of everything being okay, but at least he could be sure of her.

"Okay," he whispered.

"Okay?"

"I'll do it."

"Alright," she smiled.

She removed his hand from her face, but still held onto it.

"And even if you did try to fight me, I think I could go a couple rounds in the ring with the Winter Soldier. I'm big and tough."

They both laughed knowing she had very minimal fight training.

"You'd definitely kick my ass," Bucky chuckled.

She just smiled. And then her eyes grew wide.

"Oh! You wanna know the good news?"

"F'course."

Bucky watched her briefly disappear through the entryway before returning with a big, rectangular case. He raised an eyebrow.

"That's good news? What is it, a bomb?"

"I don't do bombs... arson only."

The look on his face made her wonder if he actually questioned whether or not she was serious. She fought laughter as she opened the case. It was silent for a moment. Y/N looked at him, waiting for a reaction.

"Is that... for me?"

"All yours, Buck. A favor I asked of Shuri."

She told him about the arm. Told him about Shuri's design, and the features and functionality. She didn't mention what made her think to ask Shuri, but that surely wasn't important.

"It's really cool, and like super sleek and badass. But more importantly, it will make you feel more... I don't wanna say regular 'cause nothing about you is regular," a shy smile slipped. "But more... how you're used to having your body feel and function."

"That's..." he shook his head before looking up and making dauntingly deliberate eye contact. "Thank you. For thinkin' of me. I mean it. I hope it wasn't too much trouble for her to make it."

"Nothin's too much trouble, Bucky. You're worth it."

"You're a real peach, y’know that?"

Suddenly she looked abashed. Did he say something wrong?

"Sorry- I didn't-"

"No, it's okay. I just got a weird sense of déjà vu. Don't worry about it."

He looked at her like he didn't quite believe her, but she tried not to think too hard about it.

"So..." Bucky gestured towards the arm. "...what do we do with this?"

"You wanna try it on?"

His brows shot up. "Oh! I mean- sure- I guess so, yeah."

She tried to pick it up and nearly threw her back out. "Jesus!"

"Woah there, tiger," he withheld a laugh, putting a hand under the vibranium arm to hold most of its weight.

"Okay, sit down," she ordered, both of them fumbling to hold onto the arm. "Shuri told me how to get the arm on. There's some... magnetic thing. I don't even know - it was some complex engineering lingo. Not my field."

After a couple minutes, clumsy hands attempting awkward assembly, and several curse words later... the arm was attached. They both stood as Bucky stuck out the bionic arm, admiring it and Y/N leaned back, admiring him. Wow.

Bucky smiled, holding both his forearms out - palms facing up - to see how they moved. "This is incredible."

He turned to her. "You're incredible. Thank you."

"No problem at all," she stepped forward. "How does it feel?"

Her hands found their way below his, cupping the underneath of them with a feather light touch. "How do you feel?"

"More... balanced," he laughed. "Coordinated?"

"Steady?"

"Absolutely."

"Stronger?"

"Definitely."

She looked up at him. "Confident? More comfortable in your own skin? That's what's most important."

He gripped her hands. "For sure. Thanks to you."

"Glad I could help. Just wanna make you feel more like yourself, you know?"

"I feel the most like myself when I'm with you," he nearly whispered.

He smiled, and then did something... unexpected. He let go of one of her hands and with the other, he twirled her around as if they were dancing. She went along with the movement, body falling in sync it even though she was confused.

"You make me wanna dance again."

With his voice so endearing, and his heart so spirited, the world around them fell quiet. She stepped forward and rested her hand on his shoulder. Then she placed one of his hands on her waist, and held the other out to the side, fingers intertwined with hers. And oh, the feeling of his hands on her; it was nearly overwhelming.

"Then dance."

And they swayed. They swayed to nothing, to the sweet sound of finding comfort in another person. She let her eyes flutter shut, allowed her guard to come down for just a moment. Just this moment. With him.

Bucky broke the silence with a shy question. "So yesterday... what does that mean for-"

"Let's just keep it between us."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a moment - like this one. I think I think too much, and I may have overreacted before. It doesn't have to be some cumbersome ordeal. It's just us."

"We're good then?"

"We're good."

"Good. 'Cause I like this."

She inhaled and smiled at the feeling of him inside her lungs. They continued swaying as they continued talking.

"You were in my dream you know?"

"Was I?"

"You were."

"Could I fly?"

"No," she laughed. "You were - well we, actually, were walking to that lake."

"To swim?"

Not exactly...

"I don't know. It's kinda foggy and didn't make much sense since it was a dream but we were definitely there."

"Did I say anything existentially insightful?" he joked.

"I don't remember much of what we said, but I remember how it felt."

"How... how did it feel?"

There she went again. She could feel herself slipping, but found it hard to care. She closed her eyes, thinking back to hibiscuses and Bucky's arms.

"The water and sun on my skin felt kind of like this," her hands ran up his sides dangerously slow and settled behind his neck, finger tips tangling into the ends of his hair.

His breath faltered. "Is that so?"

Unconsciously, his other hand found her waist and somehow the little space between them grew even smaller.

"Mhm," she hummed. "and the sight of a flower in your hair felt kind of like this."

Her hands moved to cup his face, the soft skin of her palm settling on his jawline.

"It was so pretty," she sighed.

"Yeah... pretty," he agreed. But he wasn't talking about the dream or the flower.

"And... your arms and your hands... felt kind of like this."

Gently, she pulled his face down to hers, though he needed no guidance or encouragement. When their lips met, that feelings of incompletion and longing, which had been prickling the back of her mind since the previous day, finally went away. They dissolved into fingers pressing into her hips, soft stubble tickling her cheek, and the delightfully encompassing presence of him.

She wasn't sure how long it was until they separated and words were spoken again. All she really recognized what that she was out of breath.

"And to think I was going to apologize for yesterday," Bucky smirked.

"I had to return the favor."

"And I gotta make up for lost time"

"Well, please don't let me stop you."

And he didn't. They continued right where they left off, except this time, it felt much too similar to something she had felt before. Hands began to roam just like they did in her dream.

The only thing was, her dream was cut short. She had no idea how it ended. But his hands were everywhere and it was all her senses could register. He was everywhere: her lips, her neck, her collar bones. She was burning.

The air ran out of her chest, and her voice was barely a breathy sigh. "Don't stop."

She could feel his smile on her skin. "Wouldn't dream of it."

-

The next morning, she awoke entwined in his arms - both of them.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @small-death-and-codeine @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars @surrealpsycho @headheartbellarke @bubbly-moonwarrior @bluemoon-icecream @buckeyecreates @augustbucky @itsthemaree

[everlarkficexchange]

A Simple Choice

Written by: @justajjfan​​​​​​

Beta’d by: @sunsetsrmydreams​​​​​​

Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous].

Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous] 

Rating: Mature 

Warning: Mention of whipping. Use of coarse language.

A/N: This is it…the very last chapter! Thank you to @everlarkficexchange​ - @javistg​ and @xerxia31​ ; the 2 anons ; @sunsetsrmydreams​ and to all you lovely readers! 😘

~~~

Chapter 7 + Epilogue

Taking it as a reassuring sign we’ve reached our destination, my ears prick up to the sound of engines humming and people shouting at Gale to hurry. I’m further reassured when the terrain changes from dirt and tall grasses to black steel.

This must be our ride.

Gale runs onto the steel ramp just as it begins to close and sets me down onto a cold steel seat a little further into the belly of the craft.

“Peeta!”

I look around frantically to the sound of Katniss’ voice calling out my name and see her on the opposite side trying to free herself from the restraints of her own seat as two armed soldiers on either side try to convince her to stay seated. 

“Katniss!” I shout back, awkwardly pulling myself up on my good leg only to feel Gale’s heavy hand on my shoulder pushing me back down.

“Strap yourself in. We’re about to take off,” Gale informs me.

Ooompff. I don’t have time to protest as Katniss pushes Gale out of her way and launches herself at me. I grab her tightly in my arms breathing in her scent as she peppers kisses over every inch of my face.

“My stupid leg…it wouldn’t work—” I try to explain but she continues to kiss me and I can feel the wetness from her tears on my cheeks.

“I thought I lost you,” she chokes between each word.

“Shshsh, I’m here now,” I say in a hushed tone, holding her tightly in my arms, “if Gale hadn’t shown up when he did, I would have missed our ride,” I tell her. “He saved me Katniss,” I say, lifting her chin to look at me. “Gale brought me back to you.”

Katniss lets out a shaky laugh and I flick my eyes to the side to where Gale now sits buckled to his seat, his head lowered. She kisses my lips sweetly before slowly turning to Gale, “Thank you,” she says in an almost whisper but Gale hears it and lifts his head to look at her and nods, a brief smile appearing on his face.

“The star-crossed lovers reunion can wait until we get to District 13,” Haymitch announces and I hadn’t even noticed he was sitting across from me.

“Thirteen?”

“You heard me. Welcome to the revolution lovebirds. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of questions and I’ll explain everything but for now buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.” We do as he says and Katniss takes the empty seat next to me holding onto my hand tightly.

As the hovercraft begins its assent, I take a moment to look around my surroundings and see most of the seats are filled with people from our district…survivors just like us.

At first estimate, I count in my head at least 200 hundred people. Amongst the small crowd, I’m surprised to see peacekeeper Darius who sits next to his look-a-like, both obviously happy to see the other and the resemblance is unquestionable. Brothers.

Haymitch begins his story by telling us about how he first joined the rebel underground after President Snow killed his family, his contact with District 13 after rebel spies discovered a plot to reap the surviving Victors for the quarter quell and how this planned attack was about freeing Panem from President Snow’s sadistic rule once and for all.

I scan my eyes further along the craft after Haymitch was done talking, hoping to find my own brothers. My breath hitches when I lock onto a small group of people unmistakably Merchant. Madge Undersee is the first person I recognise followed by a shell-shocked Delly Cartwright who has her arm wrapped protectively around her younger brother seated beside her.

But they’re not there.

“They could’ve made it out somehow,” Katniss says hopefully, noticing my gaze.

“Yeah…maybe,” I answer, kissing the top of her head softly. But deep down I know the probability is next to zero.

***

We gawk in amazement as our hovercraft lands safely in District 13. An impenetrable fortress made of concrete and steel strategically built deep underground.

Once the steel ramp of the hovercraft lowers and locks securely, a flurry of uniformed officials welcome us not as refugees but as new soldiers of District 13…a title I’m not sure I like.

We are quickly ushered towards a ‘clearance team’ waiting to check everyone, giving those who need medical attention priority. Hardly considering myself a medical priority, I’m nonetheless placed on a steel gurney and wheeled into a curtained partition of their hospital emergency room and assessed.

Katniss refuses to leave my side the whole time and holds onto my hand tightly insisting she can be checked just fine next to me, a fierce look in her eyes silently warning no one try and challenge her.

To my relief…no one does.

Temporary repairs are made on my prosthetic leg by a robotics technician and even though my gait is somewhat compromised, I’m grateful I can at least walk unaided. I’m to report to someone called Beetee tomorrow morning for further evaluation on my leg with the view of a more advanced replacement and think to myself maybe life here in Thirteen won’t be so bad.

Medically cleared, we are moved on to another team who measure us from head to toe before handing out a parcel each containing a set of clean clothes, shoes according to our size and a package labelled ‘personal hygiene’.

With parcels in hand, compartment allocation is next and my heart starts to sink knowing I’ll have to spend my nights in this place without Katniss.

“There she is!”

We both turn around to see Mrs Everdeen rushing towards us with Katniss’ sister in tow wearing the brightest of smiles. Katniss immediately locks Primrose in a loving embrace, ignoring her mother altogether.

“Gale told us you were here,” her mother says, brushing off her daughter’s cold welcome. “I was so worried Katniss. You shouldn’t have runaway like that,” she adds.

Katniss steps away and reaches her hand out for me to hold, “you gave me sleep syrup to stop me from going back for Peeta.”

“You almost scratched poor Gale’s eye out. It was the only way to calm you,” Mrs Everdeen says in her defence. Katniss doesn’t respond but I can see how much she resented being drugged. A feeling I know only too well.

“I’m glad to see you are safe Peeta,” Mrs Everdeen turns to me and says genuinely, breaking a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Katniss huffs but I smile and thank Mrs Everdeen just as an officer orders us to line up and register our details for allotted compartments.

“There’s no need for my daughter to register, she’s been assigned to the Everdeen family compartment; Katniss Everdeen; Level 32; Room 234a,” Mrs Everdeen informs the District 13 officer.

“No, I’m going to register with Peeta.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mrs Everdeen responds. “Peeta will need to reg—”

Katniss doesn’t wait for her mother to finish her sentence and leads me to the registry desk in the middle of the processing room.

“Name…age…occupation…marital status?” the registry officer asks robotically, not bothering to look up and stares at the small screen on his device waiting to key in my answer.

“Peeta Mellark…17…baker…s—”

“Married.” Katniss answers the last question for me and squeezes my hand. I turn my head, mouth gaped open in surprise but I don’t say anything and play along with the ruse.

The officer raises his head from his device and looks at Katniss, “and you would be..?”

“Katniss Mellark…17…hunter…wife of Peeta Mellark. We’re married…to each other,” she gestures, pointing her finger between the two of us. The officer darts his eyes suspiciously from me to Katniss.

Holding in an anxious breath, I feel Katniss’ grip on my hand tighten but the officer eventually lowers his gaze and types in the information, allowing us to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

I hear a shocked gasp behind us which could only have come from Mrs Everdeen but I don’t dare turn my head to look. Primrose on the other hand, rushes over to hug me first then Katniss and whispers something in her ear causing Katniss to blush.

“That’s not true! She’s too young to be married,” Mrs Everdeen informs the officer who raises his head and huffs in frustration.

“I usually keep my noise out of people’s business but I’ll make an exception in this case,” Haymitch says, appearing out of nowhere accompanied by an older soldier and by the looks of his uniform, he’s someone of high-ranking importance.

“Sweetheart and the boy technically became of age the moment they became Victors.”

Shock covers Mrs Everdeen’s face, “but she’s only been gone for 2 days and Twelve’s traditions state—”

“There is no District 12!” Haymitch exclaims. “What matters is the here and now and if they say they toasted then it’s good enough for me, he announces. “Young love, Lily…have you’ve forgotten what that’s like?”

Mrs Everdeen swallows hard and looks across to Katniss and me as her eyes begin to glisten, “no…I haven’t forgotten.” she replies softly.

“We don’t know what the future holds for any us and these two have been through a lot. They deserve a little happiness…don’t you think?” Haymitch questions. Mrs Everdeen ponders his words before eventually nodding in agreement. “Now what do you say we leave the newlyweds to themselves while we enjoy a hot cup of tea in the dining room,” he suggests.

Mrs Everdeen agrees and before she leaves, insists Katniss accompany her to the medical clinic in the morning and another blush appears on Katniss’ face but she relents.

“Congratulations Mr and Mrs Mellark. Enjoy your honeymoon,” Haymitch says, giving us a sly wink before he and his friend, who introduces himself as General Maximus Jackson, escort Mrs Everdeen and Prim to the dining room.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startles us both, “so…you two married or what?” the frustrated officer asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Married!” Katniss replies without pause.

The officer then looks to me for confirmation, “married,” I tell him swallowing hard and hoping the blush on my own face doesn’t give anything away.

***

Stepping into our compartment, we take a look around and see it adequately furnished with a large bunk bed, a chest of draws; a small closet and an equally small bathroom but it’s nothing to complain about.

We haven’t said a word to each other since we were given our compartment passcode. But the burning question I want to ask Katniss must wait, both of us agreeing to shower before settling in.

Although brief, the warm spray of water felt good on my skin and I quickly changed into the clothes marked ‘bed clothing’ from my parcel. When I slide the bathroom door open, Katniss is sitting on the bunk bed dressed in her District Thirteen issued pyjamas, her hair slightly damp from her shower.

Katniss raises her head to see me looking at her and I’m mesmerised by the beautiful sight before me. “Will you braid my hair Peeta?” she asks softly, offering her hairbrush to me.

My breath hitches as she leans her head back and sighs in contentment when my hands whisper over her neck and sweep the dark mane to trail down her back. I begin to brush her hair, carefully working through the knots and snags caused by our harrowing race for safety. Katniss hums as I continue until the brush moves through smoothly.

I reverently run my fingers through the long locks before dividing them into sections then gently braiding them together. I’m struck by the intimacy of the moment, bringing my question bubbling to the surface.

“Why did you lie to your mother about us being married?”

Katniss straightens her back and turns around looking deep into my eyes, “I didn’t. You baked the bread and I asked you and you agreed…remember?”

With my forehead creased in deep thought it takes only a few seconds to understand what Katniss is saying and there’s no hiding the huge smile forming on my lips, “yes.”

“I know I’m not good with words but it was the same bread you gave me all those years ago and it was perfect,” Katniss says. “You’re not taking it back are you Peeta? You do want me as your wife…don’t you?”

My hands instinctively cup her cheeks, “Katniss Everdeen, a life with you has been my fantasy for as long as I can remember. I’ve dreamt of asking you to toast with me,” I start to explain. “I’ve wanted to say so many things to you, solemnly vow to honour and keep you safe for the rest of my life, then take you in my arms and show you how much I love you,” I say, feeling heat slowly creeping up my neck as the warmth rushes to my groin.

She steps away and I immediately begin to worry I’ve said too much. Katniss searches through the pocket of her father’s hunting jacket hanging over a chair and brings the napkin she grabbed earlier today and unfolds it onto the bunk.

There in front of my eyes is the untouched triangle-shaped piece of toast and I have to wonder how it wasn’t confiscated when we were being checked over. 

Katniss smiles, the same blush appearing on her face, “it’s Katniss Mellark now but you can ask me to toast with you again if you want and the answer will be the same,” she tells me. “You can say all those words you’ve dreamt telling me…then when you’re done husband, you can show me how much you love me.”

…and so I do.

~~~

Epilogue

Katniss

My eyes are closed but there’s a sense of comfort and mellowness blossoming inside of me as I take in a deep breath to enjoy the familiar scent I’ve come to love.

In my relaxed state, it takes some effort to force my eyelids to open and when I do, my eyes focus on the edge of the bank as a paddle of ducks swim lazily across my father’s lake.

Gone are the electrified fences. The curfews. The peacekeepers.  The fear.

This was the first place I took Peeta to see after the war had ended. So many lives were lost during our fight for freedom but for now, there is peace. So, we rebuilt our towns and our families and we vowed to honour the dead by living well.

As I take in the peaceful surroundings, the smell of freshly baked bread invades my senses and all thoughts of death and destruction is forgotten when I feel a pair of warm, muscled arms wrap around my rather large and protruding stomach.

Bringing a child into this world was something I told myself I would never experience and the idea of new life growing inside of me should seem utterly terrifying. Yet as my hand rests on top of his, waiting for our little one to let us know she’s awake, what I’m feeling right now has nothing to do with fear.

I lean back into his loving embrace and instinctively tilt my head to the side allowing him full access. The moment his lips start to trail kisses down my neck, an enticing shiver courses through my body and I hum my approval with great fervour.

“We don’t have to be afraid anymore,” he whispers softly.

“No, we don’t have to be afraid,” I whisper back, as we stop to watch his favourite colour slowly disappear below the horizon.

The End

[seriouslyhooked]

Scoring Your Love (Part 17/18)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven,Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen. Story also onFF here and AO3 here. Banner by the wonderful@timetravelandfairytales

Modern AU where Killian is a world famous soccer star who has hit rock bottom and been sentenced to the place where ‘football’ legends go to die – America. While here he crosses paths with Emma, an up and coming musician and film scorer who challenges everything he thought he knew and makes him want more than the game he’s always loved. Will be filled with fluff for days. Rated M.

A/N: So at last I find myself at a chapter I have long been anticipating, and it has certainly taken long enough to get here. Between school and other fics, this has been a slower updating process than I expected, but I am hoping the next two chapters will be worth it. They are the last two chapters this fic will get for the time being (though I am planning an eventual epilogue, that I will hopefully write when I’m on winter break). That being said, you should all strap in for my usual dose of CS cuteness with this one! Thanks so much for reading, and hope you enjoy!

“All right, all right! I know you’re pleased with yourselves but I need you all to settle down, or I can’t say what needs to be said!”

Robin’s voice was raised as he addressed the team at the halfway point of their playoff game against New England, but the good humor of the moment shone through all the same. This was supposed to be a very competitive match. Their opponent was highly ranked, and they were in the semi-finals. The winner of this game would move on to the final round, and the victor of that game would win the MLS cup. But instead of it being a close call, this was turning into a blow out, much to the enjoyment of Killian’s teammates. The score was 3-0, and since Killian had played a part in each of those goals, he was rather pleased with himself, just as Robin knew he would be.

“So it turns out the first half has been a bit of a walk,” Robin said when the room had settled some. “But I don’t want any one of you pulling off the gas. We need to go out there and play just as hard as we did this half. For lack of a better phrase, we can’t go taking our eyes off the ball.”

The groan that emanated through the room at Robin’s cliché words would have been laughable in any other moment, but for Killian, his high production on the field today wasn’t the product of determination, but of anticipation. Right now, Emma was out there, watching in the stands as they played for a chance at the league’s title game, and he wanted to do her proud to be sure, but this wasn’t where the evening would end. After this game commenced, Killian had a night he hoped they would always remember planned out, and this waiting to get there was slowly eating away at him. To reassure himself he moved back to his allotted locker area, pulling from his jacket the little black box that held a token of his future.

The ring inside was one that meant more than money could buy. It was his grandmother’s ring, and it was one of the few mementos Killian had not only of her but of his mother as well. It had been her wish before she was sick that Killian should have it someday, and after keeping it safe for years, Liam had returned it a few weeks back when they’d made up again.

“I know now that doubting you was fruitless, brother,” Liam had said after meeting with Emma and apologizing for his part in their falling out. “You did as Mum always wanted. You let your heart lead you, and you found a good woman very worthy of your love.”

Killian could not possibly agree more, and with the Gold mess now behind them (the bastard had actually been denied bail, meaning he was sitting pretty in a jail cell) things with Emma had been at another level. The happiness he had known before seemed to eclipse itself, and though it was still soon – too soon by certain standards – Killian’s certainty in his love for Emma had only grown. This was an attachment and a bond that would not be going anywhere, and he felt a need to tell her this and to beg her to let them start their life together once and for all.

“Bet it feels like this game is taking forever,” David commented from beside Killian, pulling Killian from the reverie.

Killian noticed the team meeting was finished as his friend said the words. Robin had concluded whatever motivational speech he had in store while Killian was busy thinking of other things and his teammates were all preparing to return to the pitch. David, though, seemed just as unfazed by the game before them as Killian, instead turning his attention towards Killian’s plans, which he was already apprised of.

“Aye. I just want the blasted match to be done with.”

“I get that,” David said with a genuine tone before feigning a whisper. “But maybe don’t go yelling that in front of these guys. We haven’t all won world titles before.”

“Sorry, mate, I -,”

“No need to explain,” David said with a shake of his head. “You love her. I understand that more than you know.”

“So you and Mary Margaret then… it’s evolved to that so quickly?”

“Yup, and you better get on with proposing unless you want me to go first. I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

Killian laughed at David’s bombastic statement as they headed out of the team room and back down the hall towards the field once more. His friend’s tone was so decided, so absolute, and to many other men it would seem crazy, but Killian could totally relate. He himself had been in love with Emma for what felt like forever, and that was obvious in everything he did. Even now, as he walked back out into the arena, his eyes immediately searched for her in the spot he knew she was sitting in. Only when he found her did he find any sort of real comfort, and when he saw that she was looking at him too he was lost. Damn if that woman wasn’t the most remarkable thing the world over. She was a treasure, and he had every intention of squaring this game away so he could remind of her that fact.

Luckily for Killian and his team, the second half proved just as fortuitous as the first. It was a runaway in the end, not so unlike a few other games they’d had this season, but as they arrived back in the team room the celebration was immediate and rowdy. Everyone was in the best spirits, but Killian’s impatience remained. He wanted to get going. He knew he had to stay for Robin’s speech and eventual toasting, but he tried to calculate in his head how soon he could depart and at what time he could sneak out.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” The question came from Graham and Killian turned to look at his friend who had the same knowing grin on his face that David had had before him. Killian was going to respond that he did, but that it had to wait, but then their coach stepped in with a surprising announcement.

“Indeed he does. He’s off to get the girl, though a word to the wise, I’d suggest you hit the showers first. I don’t know how romantic a night it’ll be if you show up pitch-fresh.”

Killian stopped himself before he could ask if Robin was sure. Truth be told, Killian didn’t want to risk anyone changing their mind. If they were saying he could run off and clean up quickly before heading out without consequence, then he was damn well going to do that. Grabbing his things as quickly as he could Killian thanked them both and wished them a good celebration before heading on his own merry way.

Within ten more minutes Killian was showered and ready to find his Swan, and much to his delight she was waiting for him too. Tiny, it seemed, had found her again during this game and she was waiting for him in the same place she had been at the first game she came to. It made Killian think of just how far they’d come to see her here again, but when she saw him watching her, Emma didn’t hold back this go around. Instead she walked right up to him and pulled him in for a kiss that stole his breath away.

“You were something else tonight,” Emma murmured when they pulled back. Her eyes were darker than they had been a minute ago, giving away the heat and desire she was feeling. It made Killian crave more, and his hands held her close despite their being out here in the open. Hell if he cared who saw them. His hope was that the whole bloody world would know they belonged together in just a matter of time.

“So I did you proud then, love?” he teased and Emma bit her lip, drawing his attention to her mouth once more.

“You could say that. Mostly you just made me want you though, and honestly I’m a little sad you didn’t come out in your uniform. I spent a good chunk of the game thinking about how you look in it…”

“Fuck,” Killian groaned, his head totally spinning out of control as he faced his Swan in full effect. She was deliberately trying to get a rise out of him, but he knew she meant the words too and he made a mental note to create a space for her to live out those dirtier fantasies of hers soon. “We’ve got to go, love, or we’ll never get out of here.”

“Go? I didn’t realize we had plans.”

“Oh we have plans alright,” Killian stated with finality before bringing her hands up to kiss one by one. “You trust me, don’t you Emma?”

“Always,” Emma agreed and Killian beamed back down at her before leading her out into the LA evening and towards a key step in their story that he couldn’t wait to get to.

…………….

Staring out the window of Killian’s car as they cruised down the 101, Emma felt a sense that she was exactly where she most needed to be.

So far her day had been wonderful. She’d woken up with Killian and got to spend the morning with him before he had to head to the stadium to prep for the game, and then she had the chance to go and see him in action. Her friends were all there, including Mary Margaret and Ruby (who were cheering along for their own guys, having both committed to David and Graham respectively) and Belle and Elsa. Since Elsa was there, Liam had also made an appearance. He was prone to showing up wherever Elsa was these days, and Emma loved to see the two of them at the start of what she knew would be a long-term romance. They were both so smitten and cute as could be, but Emma tonight had been totally focused on Killian.

In the time she and Killian had known each other, Emma had learned so much about this sport. She knew that certain things took so much skill and finesse, and though she’d loved seeing him play that first game, she had so much more appreciation this go around. Seeing Killian out there playing his heart out was riveting and amazing, and it was like everyone in the stadium knew they were witnessing greatness. Four goals for the night and three assists was a crazy number, and the footwork and the rhythm that he had, and that he inspired for his team was breathtaking. For Emma though, greatness didn’t end with the game. In fact, it seemed it was only beginning.

“You realize that before I started dating you I was actually well known for hating surprises, right?”

Killian’s chuckle filled the space around them as his hand came to take hers. The feeling when they touched was still dazzling, and though time had made it a familiar thing, Emma still marveled at the buzz it sent humming through her.

“I do realize that, Swan. But I am also fully aware that you happen to like my surprises, and I’m hoping this one will prove my best yet.”

Emma jokingly mumbled something about him being over the top, but the sentiment faded away when she saw where they pulled up. They’d been driving up the coast to Malibu for some time, but Killian just pulled up in front of a gated home that was truly remarkable. It sent a shiver of recollection through her, since the gates and the grand façade made Emma think of their first date, but this home was more modern and in turn just a little more vibrant. In truth, it was probably the most beautiful house Emma had ever seen, and as Killian drove up the driveway, Emma could already tell it would have the most breathtaking views of the water and the coastline.

Without more than a few words shared between them, Killian parked and opened her door, taking her hand and leading her into the house. On the inside Emma felt that despite it’s extravagant size, this house still felt like a home. It was warm in here, inviting and open and the space filled with promise. The sound of the waves that could be heard ever so slightly in the background soothed Emma almost as much as the feel of Killian’s hand in hers, and she found herself sighing a little, loving the calm that came so quickly when they were alone. She ended up following Killian through the whole place, thinking to herself that the owner of this house had exceptional taste, and that it was crazy how perfect the ambiance was. It was a beautiful blend of what her place looked like and what Killian’s had going for it (though clearly done at a much more expensive rate), and though Emma knew it was likely just another friend of Killian’s making a beautiful date possible for them, Emma couldn’t help thinking that a house like this might be truly ideal.

“I was hoping I could tempt you into dinner with me here, love,” Killian said after they’d walked around the first floor, seeing all the home had to offer on this level while heading towards their real destination. “But then I reasoned dinner wouldn’t be enough. So perhaps we could start with a walk on the beach. I think we’re only a few minutes away from sunset.”

“That sounds perfect.”

The look of happiness that Killian shared with her at her words touched Emma’s heart. He was so invested in her enjoyment and he always looked for her approval and what she wanted. That thoughtfulness was indescribably wonderful in her mind, and it was a fundamental part of this man who she loved so dearly. He was romantic and sweet, even if he had a charming and sometimes roughish way about him, and as Emma looked out at the open sea and the vibrant sunset that set against it, she leaned into Killian, cherishing his warmth and strength and presence.

“How do you keep doing this?” Emma asked. “How do you keep giving me so much and making me feel…” Her words trailed off. There was so much she always felt with him, it was almost impossible to describe.

“How do I make you feel, Emma?” Killian asked, bringing her face back up to look at him as he held her close. She studied his handsome features, made all the more gorgeous in the dwindling light, and then she confessed everything that she held in her heart.

“You make me feel like love will always be here and like it’s more than enough. I feel braver with you, surer in myself and in my future. I feel like anything’s possible, and like the happiness we’ve found isn’t going anywhere. At least not any time soon.”

Killian’s brilliant blue eyes shone bright with his own joy at hearing her words, and it made him even more irresistible. To have someone be so open and candid in their adoration of her was intoxicating, and Emma didn’t think she’d ever get enough of the sensations that came with knowing Killian loved her so deeply and so truly.

“If I had my way that happiness would never leave, Emma,” he claimed as his hand ran up her side, gently sending tingles through her whole entire being. “Tell me, Swan. What do you think of this place?”

“I think its paradise,” Emma admitted as she looked back around at the ocean and the house and this private strip of beach that came with it. “It’s like a little slice of heaven. I can’t believe how close it is to home.”

“About that… what if it was home?” It took a second but realization dawned on Emma.

“Oh my god, did you buy this? Are you moving here?”

“Only if you’ll move with me,” he said. Emma’s jaw dropped from the shock, though in the back of her mind a little voice told her that she’d known this was coming. It was only a matter of time before Killian made this move, but she nearly fell over as he made another one, dropping down to one knee right there in the sand.

“Killian, what are you doing?” She asked, even though she knew. She watched him pull a small black box from his pocket and Emma was certain that a ring was inside of it, but still her breath caught when she saw the band (and diamonds) in person.

“Call me old fashioned, or perhaps just terribly impatient, but I can’t help it dreaming of us being here together while my ring is on your finger.”

Emma felt tears welling up in her eyes. The emotion of the moment was overtaking her, but it was all good, so very very good. There was no fear or anxiety in her heart at all. She wasn’t scared of this future, in fact she’d been hoping for it for so long she wondered if she hadn’t wished this into happening. Still it felt too good to be true – how could this really be her life? How could any one person be so lucky?

“Emma Swan, from the moment we met, I knew I was in trouble. I was at risk of falling completely and irrevocably in love with you, and low and behold I did. This wasn’t what I thought I would happen. I never imagined that I could feel this way or know with this much certainty that you are the key to damn near everything, but here I am, love. I look at you and I see forever. I see a life worth living, a love that will not end, and a hope unlike any I have ever known. You bring everything to life, Emma. You make anything possible, but the only wish I have – the only one I’ll ever have – is to spend the rest of my days loving you and showing you just how much you mean to me. So with that being said. Emma Swan, will you -,”

“Wait,” Emma said, closing her eyes for a moment and gathering her courage to ask one last question. When she opened her eyes again Killian looked concerned, and he’d risen to his feet, coming to hold her again. He looked so worried, and she hadn’t meant to do that – but she had to just hash this one thing out before she said yes, which she was absolutely going to do.

“Emma?”

“I want to marry you – I will be marrying you,” she said, prompting Killian to exhale a breath and pull her closer, but she kept talking, not wanting him to get ahead of himself. “But I want to be sure that this is what you want. We don’t have to stay here, Killian. If your heart is back in England, we can make it work. This house is gorgeous –honestly it’s beyond perfect – but we can find happiness wherever life takes us, whether it’s here or not.”

“My heart is wherever you are, Emma,” Killian promised her as his hand came to cup her cheek and his smile returned to full brightness again. “And I signed the final contracts today. I’ll be staying on with Galaxy. I’ll be staying right here. Nay, we’ll be staying right here.”

“We will?”

“Aye, love.”

Their excitement propelled them towards a kiss Emma was dying for. It felt so good and so happy and so right, but before she could totally get swept away into her husband, and whatever his other plans were this evening, she felt she had one last thing to say.

“I think I kind of messed this up.”

“Not possible, Emma. You are by definition perfect.” Emma rolled her eyes, causing her fiancé (her fiancé!) to laugh again.

“Could you maybe… ask me again?”

“As you wish, love.” Killian dropped down on bended knee once more, looking up at her with nothing short of elation as he took this final step. “Emma. You know everything now. You know my heart and my wants and all I wish for you and I together. Will you please make me the happiest of men and agree to be my wife?”

Emma laughed at the way he said it, but her answer was still the same. Yes. A million times yes.

Her answer was more than satisfactory this time, and as soon as Killian slipped the diamond ring on her finger, he surprised her by sweeping her up into his arms and marching her right back onside into the house. He moved past everything they’d seen before, and the dinner was, for the moment, forgotten. Instead, Emma’s soon to be husband was on a mission, and it entailed him climbing up the stairs with her and getting her into a bed – their bed – to have his wicked way with her.

“I had all these ideas in my head, Emma,” Killian said gruffly as he stripped clothes she was wearing from her body, causing her pulse to pick up and her breathing to hitch.

“You did?” She asked, dazedly as he started removing his own clothes, distracting her with his toned physique and lust-filled gaze.

“Aye. I was going to take my time with you, drive you wild, spend hours pleasing you and only you. But I think that will have to wait. I don’t think I can keep my self control.”

“I don’t want you to,” Emma said as her hands ran across his chest and down his abdomen, coming to unbutton his jeans only to shove them down and reveal all of him to her. “I just want to feel you. All of you. Right now.”

Emma heard him say something that sounded an awful lot like ‘bloody minx’ but she was too distracted from his ministrations to her body. He was everywhere all at once, his mouth, his hands, everything over took her senses. She’d give into a kiss, only to feel the rough but smooth texture of his fingers tracing down her body to where she wanted them most of all. He teased her ever so lightly, bringing her closer to the edge that she had already been wandering towards, but before she could fall he changed tactics, scattering her thoughts and sending shivers down her spine. She was wrapped up in Killian on all fronts, but it wasn’t enough. It was a tease of what she wanted, only a taste of what was coming, but then he thrust inside her, filling her up and making her see stars and feel totally complete.

She couldn’t say how long they lasted, but his pace was perfect and the rhythm was designed for bliss. She fell over the edge, but he held on, wringing her out a second time and then a third before finally giving over. But even after they were both spent and panting for breath, Killian never let up. He held her close, protecting and worshipping her at the same time, and making Emma feel like she was the most important thing in the whole wide world.

“God I love you, Emma. I love you more than words can ever say.”

“I love you too,” Emma whispered. “Thus the whole marrying you thing.”

“You should know I’ve used up pretty much all of my patience, love. I don’t think I can wait much longer to make you mine.”

“So we won’t wait,” Emma said easily, both surprising and delighting Killian with her agreement. “Well we have to wait a little bit. You have to win the cup first, and then we can talk about getting married. I think we can figure something out before next season starts.”

“If I win the cup, can we get married sooner?” Killian asked, sounding almost like an eager boy instead of a slow and measured man in that moment. His excitement was infectious and Emma pretended to consider before yielding.

“How soon are you talking?”

“One month?” Killian asked hopefully. “I’ll take care of everything, love. I know you’re busy with work and your friends and the like. But I’ll move mountains for this. You’ll see.”

“Okay. If you win the cup, you can pick the day. As long as my friends are all there, I’m good.”

“Oh, you’ll be better than good, love. I can guarantee you that.”

And for the rest of the night Killian showed Emma just how much better than good things would be from now on. Because now that they had each other, there was no stopping the happiness that would come. It was a given, just as their love would be for the next, oh, sixty years or so.

Post-Note: Ooh girl I gotta say it had been too long since I wrote a proposal for an AU and it was so fun to do that for this one! It’s also an interesting proposition because the chapter lengths are so short for this story, but I have to say I think it was the right dose of fluff (though I will let you guys be the judges of that). As I said before there is one more chapter left and it will be the wedding. I also imagine I will get around to a flash-forward epilogue, but as I said that’s going to take a long time to get to. Anyway, thanks so much to all of you for reading, commenting, reviewing, and sending me messages. You’re all awesome and I appreciate you more than I can say! Hope you have a great rest of your weekend!

[sky-casino]

Take My Hand

Genre: Fluff, Angst, runaway!jaehyun  Pairing: Jaeyun x Reader Word Count: 6,429 Warning/s: Verbal and physical abuse from family

 You were having the worst night of your life when you found a mysterious and cute runaway boy sitting beside you.

Thursday night. You were in your room studying very hard for your college entrance exams next week, the usual. A few minutes later, you started to hear the yells of your heavily drunk and alcoholic father from downstairs. The usual too. This happened every night which caused you to lose focus. But tonight, you had enough of it and stormed down to confront your father.    

"You come home like this every single night. Can't you do anything better than get drunk? I'm so tired of this! I'm studying upstairs and then I hear you yelling non-sense stuff!"

"Shut the fuck up! You're the reason this family has no money! All our money goes to your stupid tuition fee." He retorted.

You stood there frozen and extremely hurt until he continued, "Make sure you get a scholarship from a far away university so we won't have to spend a single cent and see your face anymore. You understand?"

With that, your tears started to fall. Your stepmother just watched the whole scene, didn't even bother to defend you or stop your father from spitting the painful words. Why would she? She didn't like you living with them.

You ran out of the house to go to your favorite pavilion all the way up the street. As you ran, the wind dried your tears but fresh ones kept on falling. 

You never considered your life good or happy. Your biological mother left you and your father early this year for another man. Just like you, she was tired of seeing your dad in a drunken state every night. Your life wasn't improving and so your mom decided to leave. She wrote you a short message that you saw on your desk the next morning: I'm sorry. You were so mad at her for not taking you with her but then again, you were pretty sure that the man didn't want you to live with them, similar to your current stepmother.

The hardships motivated you to study hard in order to get into a good university far from home. You wanted out from this shitty town and dysfunctional family, if you could even call it that. You and your father wanted the same thing but hearing him tell you that he wasn't willing to spend money on you and see your face anymore was literally a stab in the heart.

You arrived at the pavilion panting and crying. It was very quiet and peaceful. It was dimly lit but got a good overlooking view of the city below. The dazzling city lights and silence always calmed you down.

You were so focused on crying that you failed to realize that you were not alone in the pavilion.

"You okay?" A boy asked you. 

You quickly jumped and let out a short scream before focusing your vision on the boy who sat beside you. 

The street light illuminated his face and you could see his wide eyes, probably shocked from your reaction. But you could also see his lips that were trying to hold back from laughing. You realized that you probably looked stupid with the way you jumped and screamed. A strong wave of embarrassment washed over you and you cleared your throat in an attempt to compose yourself. You continued to look at him as you made your way back to the bench and you realized how handsome this stranger was.

He waited for you to be comfortable again before he talked.

"Are you okay? You're crying." He said with a smile and a worried look on his face.

You were surprised to see that someone, a stranger, was genuinely concerned about you. Your own parents couldn't even be bothered about you.

"Honestly? Nope. I'm not." You replied. For some reason, your gut feeling told you to open up to this guy. Maybe because there's a high chance that you wouldn't see him again anyway. You had nothing to lose.

"May I know why?" 

"Well, my mom left me with my alcoholic dad who hates me so fucking much that unlike normal fathers, he despises spending money for his child's education. He also married a whore he just met at some bar out there who, guess what, also hates me." You said non-chalantly with matching hand gestures.

The boy's mouth was slightly open for a few seconds until he let out a chuckle.

"You find my tragic life funny?" 

"No, no. It's not that. Definitely not that. It just amuses me that you told your sad life story in a.. what should I call it.. a chill manner?" He said as he lifted both of his brows at you with a shy smile. He looked totally cute so you decided to forgive him.

"Oh. Okay, if you say so." You replied as you shifted your eyes from him and on to the city lights below. 

There was a moment of awkward silence until you noticed his large and full backpack.

"You just.. moved here?"

"Yep. Temporarily." He replied with a smirk.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a runaway." He said with the same smirk before yawning and stretching out his arms above him, obviously tired and sleepy.

"A runaway?"

"Yup. I left my hometown and now I move from one city to another and then I stay there for a month. I think this is my fourth city? Yeah, it is." 

"But why?"

"Why what? Why I left my hometown? Because I'd rather learn about the world through travels and encounters with people than staying in four-walled classrooms to listen to boring lectures. " He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"How do you decide which city to go next?" 

"By feel? Whatever my gut feel says. No detailed plan whatsoever. Wherever my feet take me."

"As simple as that?"

"Mhm."

This guy might be the strangest and most interesting person you've ever met.

"It's super late already. Don't you need to go home?" He asked as he looked at his watch.

"Don't worry. No one's looking for me. But yes, I gotta rest. Have to wake up early tomorrow because I'm a student and I need to place myself in four-walled classrooms to listen to boring lectures." You said the last part with air quotation marks which earned you a laughter from him.

"You're funny."

"You're strange."

He just nodded his head in reply to your statement before picking up his bag and swinging the straps into his shoulders.

"Bye. Good night." You said.

"Good night." He replied with a smile, showing off his lovely dimples once again.

You stood up as he did and slowly turned your back to him and walked out of the pavilion. 

"Jaehyun." He suddenly said, causing you to turn around. "My name is Jaehyun." 

"Y/N." You replied with a smile as shy as his.

It was afternoon of the next day and you were walking home from school. Your mind was filled with the memories from last night's encounter with Jaehyun. How he looked like, the sound of his voice, his smile and dimples, everything he told you. A part of you thought that it might just be a dream. After a terrible fight with your father that brought you to tears, you suddenly met a handsome boy at your favorite pavilion? It sounded too good to be true but it was, after all, true. 

True because it had been exactly twenty-four hours since you headed to the pavilion and you found yourself on your way there again when you saw a head of familiar black hair. You couldn't focus on your homework as you kept asking yourself whether you'd see Jaehyun again or not. In order to put your mind at peace, you went to the pavilion to see if he'd be there. And he was. Prayer answered.

"Hey." You greeted Jaehyun.

"There you are." He replied, giving you a can of soda with the same flavor as the one he's drinking.

"Thanks." He only had two cans all in all which made you wonder whether he really bought one for you.

"I have a proposal for you." He said.

"What?" You asked as you sat down next to him.

"You told me about your family problem last night. I don't think I can 100% help you with that but, I want to at least take your mind off it even just for a while." 

"What? There's no need for that, Jaehyun. I'm fine, don't wo-"

"Let me do this. Please." He told you with pleading eyes. You couldn't refuse.

"Okay. But how?"

"I'll hire you as my personal tour guide! You'll bring me to all the tourist spots here like famous restaurants, malls, coffee shops, museums. Don't worry, you won't have to spend a single cent. All expenses will be on me. I know you're only free during weekends and maybe a few afternoons after school? What do you think?" 

You didn't reply in a timely manner as you just sat there with a blank face and slightly wide eyes. You couldn't believe, once again, that a stranger was genuinely concerned about you and truly wanted to make you feel better.

"Y/N?" 

"Deal!" 

"Great! Tomorrow is a Saturday. We can start tomorrow?"

"Sure. You're lucky I don't have homework." You said with a laugh. The two of you exchanged numbers and agreed to meet at ten in the morning of the next day.

"What did you do today?" You asked.

"Just slept. I was so tired yesterday and slept late. I had to re-energize. You?"

"Damn I envy you so much! I had exams the whole day. But because of that our teachers didn't give us homework for the weekend."

"Do you think you did well?"

"Of course. I always do. I mean, I always have to do well.  I wanna get a scholarship from the number one university." 

"Isn't that far from here?"

"Yes, it is. Which is one of the reasons why I want to study there. I wanna move out of here. I don't care if I would have to live in a dormitory during my entire college life. I just want to leave this place."

"You're just like me. Someone who wants to leave her hometown." He smirked at you before taking a sip from his soda can.

"Yeah. I think I am. I just hope that like you, I'll be able to do it one day."

10:08 AM

That's the time on your lockscreen as you ran all the way up to the pavilion.

"I'm so sorry, I'm late!" You yelled at Jaehyun the moment you arrived.

"It's fine. Take it easy." He chuckled. "So, where can we have breakfast?"

"I know the best place for that." 

You took the bus with him to get into the heart of the city. It was buzzing with people, as expected of a Saturday morning. You lead the way to a medium-sized eatery.

"This restaurant specializes in breakfast meals. Very popular." You informed Jaehyun upon entering.

"Yeah.. obviously." He said as he marveled at the sight of the busy eatery. Plenty of waitresses walking here and there to serve a huge number of tables.

You picked a table and a lady gave you two menu books right away. 

"They all look so yummy." Jaehyun said.

"They are all yummy. My favorite is this one, kimchi-wrapped luncheon meat with eggs and hash browns." You said as you showed him the picture of the said meal.

"That looks so good, Y/N! I wanna try!"

"Okay!" You signaled to the waitress and ordered two sets of the said meal.

"Is today's itinerary planned or spontaneous?" He asked before drinking his orange juice.

"Totally planned. I'm not good at being spontaneous." You replied, laughing embarrassingly as you fiddled with your fork.

"That's fine. We could save more time if it's planned."

Your orders arrived and Jaehyun instantly indulged himself.

"I love this. I love this, Y/N. You have good taste." He said as he dramatically nodded his head.

"Of course, Jaehyun." You replied in a very sassy manner.

You spent around half an hour in the restaurant and now, you were about to ride the bus again.

"Where to next?"

"Vintage bookstore at one of the less populated spots of the city!" You said with much enthusiasm that showed how much you love the place.

"I love it already." Jaehyun replied with wide eyes.

"You love reading too?"

"Yes! I especially love mystery. You?"

"Poetry and slice of life. I love inspirational pieces."

"You're a deep person." Jaehyun said in almost a whisper as he smiled and nodded his head at you, making your heart flutter and your eyes look away shyly.

You got off the bus and walked into these narrow alleys that form something akin to a maze to get to the vintage and mysterious bookstore.

"They sell secondhand, hard-to-find, and vintage books. They also have cute stationery and school supplies, most of which are made with recycled paper." You informed Jaehyun as you walked through the alleys.

"Wow, this store is very unique." 

"It is! I make sure to go there at least twice a month. Oh, here it is!" You said as you stopped right in front of the brick-walled shop.

"Holy shit. It literally looks like it's from Harry Potter." Jaehyun said in amazement.

"Well, the owner is an avid fan. He was inspired. Let's go!"

You went straight to the stationery and supplies section while Jaehyun looked at every shelf, looking for some books to buy.

Later, you heard him yell excitedly which made you snap your neck to his direction.

"Why? Found something good?" You asked as you approached him.

"Great, Y/N. Something great! It's a copy of my favorite author's first novel! Agatha Christie's The Mysterious Affairs at Styles!" He exclaimed. The book looked very old but still readable.

Both of you went to the counter to pay for your respective items. As you were about to hand the cashier your payment, Jaehyun stopped you.

"Remember what I said? You won't spend a single cent. I'll pay for it."

"What? No! I'll use my own mon-"

"Y/N please, just listen to me. Okay?" Jaehyun said with a warm smile.

"Alright. Thank you." 

"I'm hungry again." You said with a pout as you got out of the store.

"Now that you said it, same. I'm starving." Jaehyun replied after he giggled about his book. 

"I know a place and it's just near!"

A few minutes later, the two of you were eating ramyeon and kimbap at the small restaurant around the block.

"Out of all the cities I've been to, this one is the only one that has a vintage bookstore. Lovely." 

"Thank you."

It was already three in the afternoon when you finished eating.

"Now, we'll head to the mall. You can buy some clothes or anything you want? Need?"

"Sure!"

You arrived after an hour of riding the bus.

"Back to the buzzing of people." Jaehyun said with a smirk as you entered the mall.

Jaehyun insisted to buy anything you tried on and so you ended up with a new dress and a pair of shorts. On the other hand, he bought himself new jeans and jackets.

You were surprised to see that it was already dark when you got out of the building, not realizing that a couple of hours have already passed.

"I want to have dinner at the pavilion." Jaehyun said out of the blue.

You got off the bus at the station nearest to your house and went straight to the pizza parlor close to the pavilion where Jaehyun bought take-out pizza for the two of you.

"Damn, we ate so much today!" You said as you continued to munch on a slice of pepperoni pizza.

"Are you on a diet?"

"N-no."

"Do you regret it?"

"Of course not!" You replied as you took an extra large bite, bringing Jaehyun to laughter.

"That was good. So good." He said as he finished his portion.

"Did.. did you enjoy today?" You asked nervously.

"Y/N, is that even a legit question? I absolutely did!" He replied with a hearty laugh. Those dimples would be the death of you.

"Okay, I can finally be relieved. I'm glad you enjoyed." You said as your shoulders slumped down and your breath exhaled. 

"You know, I've always traveled alone. For some reason, I liked that better. So I was a bit worried how today would turn out. But wow, making you my personal tourist guide was a great decision. I don't regret it. You did a good job!" He said as he gave you thumbs up.

You were speechless as you felt your cheeks burning up.

"Th-thanks, Jaehyun." You said as you looked away.

"It's a bit late. Want me to walk you home?"

"I'd love that. But I'd rather not let my father see you." You replied with frustration.

"I understand. Take care, okay? Text me when you get home."

"I will. Take care too."

"Bye! See you! Can't wait for next Saturday!" He yelled as the distance between the two of you got farther and farther.

"Alright!" You laughed.

You cautiously entered your home but fortunately, your dad and stepmom already fell asleep while watching the television.

You sent Jaehyun a goodnight text and he replied with the same greeting. It was a good night indeed as you dozed off with a smile on your face .

Four days after the Saturday adventure with Jaehyun, you were on your way out of the school grounds when you saw him leaning against a tree that stood across your school gate. He was waiting for you. 

"Hey! What are you doing here?" You said after he smiled and waved at you.

"Can we go somewhere? I'm bored." He said with a pout. Undeniably cute.

"Let's go!" 

Ten minutes of walking later, you and Jaehyun were now inside your favorite bubble tea store.

"Me and my friends love this place. It's our stress reliever. Their Vanilla bubble tea is great, my favorite. What do you want?" You said as you were looking at the menu.

"Hmm.. Chocolate. I guess?"

After your orders were handed to you, you went to a table in the corner.

"How's school?"

"Pretty tough lately. Lessons are a bit more complicated. Waiting for the results of the college entrance exams is making me anxious too. They will be out first week of next month, roughly two more weeks to go." You replied before taking a sip. 

"I'm.. I'm not bothering you with this whole tour guide thing, am I?" Jaehyun asked with his brows furrowed, obviously concerned that he might be causing inconvenience.

"What? Not at all! Thanks to you I now have a good school-life balance. Don't worry, you're not distracting me or anything like that. But unfortunately, I'm not available this coming Saturday. Gotta meet with my group mates to work on our project."

"Oh, okay. No problem. By the way, before I forget. I passed by the library earlier after lunch. They organize workshops there?"

"Oh, the workshops. Yes, they have weekend sessions for different stuff like writing, sketching, knitting. I'm not sure what they have for this month-"

"Painting!" Jaehyun exclaimed as he lightly slammed his hand on the table. You were taken aback.

"Geez, what was that for-"

"I'll attend the rest of the painting sessions!" He said excitedly. He was being such a child right at this moment.

"Okay, Mister Runaway. You can do whatever you want."

"Can you please bring me to the library next Saturday morning?"

"Huh? You said you passed by there today, which means you know how to get there. Why do I need to take y-"

"Pretty please, Y/N. You don't have to attend the workshop itself. Just take me there then you can go wherever you want. We'll just meet again in the evening after it's done so we can have dinner together. Deal?" Jaehyun asked with a cheeky smile as he stuck out his hand for you to shake.

"I have a handful of homework to do. I'll work on them at the library while you whisk your paintbrush away, Picasso." You said as you shook his hand.

"Cheers to another fruitful weekend for the both of us." Jaehyun said, raising his glass of bubble tea.

"Cheers!" You played along with his antics.

 On Saturday of the next week, you made sure to arrive early at the pavilion to make up for the fact that you were late during your first meet-up with Jaehyun. When you got there, you were proud of yourself to see that you arrived earlier than him. 

A few seconds after you sat down, you saw him a few meters away, helping an old lady open her shop for the day. 

"Thank you. You're such a handsome young man. I don't think you're a familiar face from here, though?" The old lady told Jaehyun after he helped her.

"No worries, grandma. Yes, I'm not from here."

"Oh, alright. Take care and thank you again!" 

"You're welcome! Take care too!" Jaehyun replied with a bow before running to the pavilion.

"That's so sweet of you." You said with a warm smile.

"That's nothing." He ruffled his bangs as he looked down on the ground, a habit of his when he's embarrassed or shy. 

"Anyway, I arrived earlier than you this time!" You exclaimed as you jumped from your seat.

"Uhmm, actually no, you did not. I've been here since twenty minutes ago. But I had nothing to do while waiting so I decided to help grandma." 

"What?! Geez, why do you arrive so early all the time?" You whined as the two of you walked out of the pavilion.

"I'm an early bird, that's why." He said with a wink as he flashed his dimples on you . You were pretty sure your heart did a little quick flip. You looked away to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.

"What do you do when you're not with me? I'm just curious." You asked in an attempt to change the topic.

"I observe people. I go to different coffee shops, restaurants, or just stay in public parks the whole day to watch people. Sometimes I just walk aimlessly. Also, I've already chatted and had some drinks with a few guys who live in the same apartment. One of them is this Japanese guy, his name is Yuta. He came all the way from Osaka, Japan. He's here to get soccer training, said his dream is to become a professional. Then there's another foreigner, Winwin, he's from China. He's temporarily here with his fellow Chinese traditional dancers. They're here for a Korean tour of their dance recitals. You know, this is what I love about being a free runaway. I get to encounter different people from different walks of life. Don't you find it interesting?" He asked you the question while giving your elbow a little nudge, obviously caused by his excitement. You could see in his eyes that he was so happy and having the time of his life.

"It's really interesting, Jaehyun. I actually envy you because you have all these freedom, courage, the money." You let out a sigh.

"Don't worry, Y/N. At least you have a clear goal for yourself. You know what you want to do and women like that are strong and have a bright future. I believe in you." He said with a smile before holding up his right fist, initiating a fist bump with you. You obliged which caused laughter from both of you.

After half an hour bus ride, the two of you were now in the library, just outside the workshop room Jaehyun would be staying at for the next eight hours.

"Okay. I'll just be in the main library to work on my assignments and papers. You can find me there when you're done. But if you can't, just text me and I'll come back. Got it?"

"Yes, mom." Jaehyun chuckled.

"Ugh, shut up."

"Why? You sounded like a mom back there."

"Whatever. Go inside now."

"See? You sound like-"

"Shut up and just go inside!" You yelled as you playfully smacked his shoulder.

You headed to the main hall and easily found a good seat. Your city's library were never heavily occupied and you were thankful for that, it was spacious and quiet enough for you to concentrate on your tasks. 

You were not even halfway through your paper when your friend, Seulgi, suddenly sat across from you.

"Oh my god, you scared me." 

"Sorry!"

"You're here to study too? I'm working on History paper. We can do it toge-"

"Actually I'm not." Your friend interrupted you.

"Oh."

"I'm just here because I saw you enter the building with a cute guy. I'm so intrigued!" Seulgi squealed.

"Uhm. Okay, Seulgi. Listen, we're not a couple-"

"Tell me about him! You never said you're seeing someone!"

"I just said, we're not a couple. Really. We're not."

"What? Well, that's so disappointing!" Seulgi said with a frown. "But still! Tell me about him! Where and when did you meet?"

"I met at him at the pavilion one night three weeks ago?"

"That is so romantic."

"I swear to god if you don't shut up-"

"Okay, go ahead!"

"That's it. One thing you need to know about him, and he's super proud of this, is that he's a runaway." You said with an amused tone.

"Runaway? Those... misfits who leave their hometowns and just go wherever and do whatever they want?"

"Uhm, he's not a misfit. He's actually nice. But yes, he left his hometown and has been traveling through different cities these past couple of months. He made me his personal tour guide and we've been to the antique bookshop, the mall, and our favorite bubble tea store." You replied excitedly. However, you noticed that Seulgi stayed silent with uncertainty on her face, "What's wrong?"

"Well then, it's actually good that you're not a couple." She said with a blank face.

"What?"

"If he's a runaway, then he'll just suddenly leave and disappear. You said he's been moving from one city to another, right? Then our city is just a name in his itinerary, if he even has one."

It was now your turn to stay silent.

"Y/N, you're my friend and I don't want you to get heartbroken. You know that. But, with this guy? There's a big chance you might. So promise me you won't fall for him." Seulgi said as he raised her pinky finger. You didn't say anything so she went on, "I saw you earlier with him and I could say that you like him. It was obvious. You were trying so hard to hide it but it's obvious."

"What? No, I don't!"

"Don't deny it, Y/N. I've been noticing how happy you were recently and I've always guessed it's because of a guy. I was right. But please, do yourself a favor, Y/N. Don't fall for a guy who's on vacation. You'll just get hurt. But don't worry, it's not yet too late." Seulgi advised with a pitiful smile. 

You thought about it for a few seconds until you raised your own pinky finger and intertwined it with hers, sealing your promise to not fall for the guy who's on vacation, to not fall for Jaehyun.

Seulgi left right after as she had some errands to do, leaving you by yourself. All the papers, books, and work to be done right in front of you on the table long forgotten as your mind has started to get occupied with everything Jaehyun: his handsome face, his bright smile, his cute dimples, his contagious laugh, his caramel-like voice, and the fact that he's a runaway who would leave by the end of the month, next week. Actually, you've already thought about everything Seulgi said. But hearing it from another person made you realize the impact of the impending pain in case you really fall for Jaehyun. The moment you realized that you were starting to have feelings for him was the same moment you started to feel fear. Fear because it's not like he would stay for you, right? He would leave you and the city and move on with his journey.

You retrieved your phone from your bag and texted him.

"Sorry. I can't stay. Dad told me to go home."

Leaving him and lying to him made you feel horrible. Jaehyun has been nothing but kind to you. But you wanted to save yourself from the heartbreak, as Seulgi said, it's not yet too late. You could still dodge the bullet and you had to start as soon as possible, by leaving him in this building.

You got his reply almost an hour after, most likely because cellphones were strictly prohibited during the workshop.

"Aww, too bad! I was so excited to show you my painting while we have dinner :( But it's okay. We have next time. Take care and I hope your dad is not mad :)" 

You felt like crying. He's so genuine and kind. Everything you could ask for. You read "We have next time." again and again because you were uncertain about it. You knew that the more spend time with him, the easier and faster you'd fall. 

You spent the new week as cautiously as you could. It was Jaehyun's last week in your city and you wished that it would pass by smoothly without bumping into him. You avoided going to the pavilion and anywhere else outside your home. Wake up, go to school, study, go home, study, sleep. That was your daily routine.

Until he showed up, of course. As expected from a streetsmart runaway.

"Y/N!" Jaehyun called out to you the moment you stepped down from the bus on your way home.

"J-Jaehyun?" You asked, surprised.

"Yep. That's me. How are you? You haven't answered to any of my calls and texts. I was worried." Concern was so apparent on his face and guilt struck you once again.

"Oh.. Sorry. I was just busy. What were you doing there in the bus station?"

"I was waiting for you." He replied with a sheepish smile, focusing his gaze on his footsteps.

"What? But why-"

"Because you weren't answering to my calls and texts. Couldn't contact you. So I thought maybe I should just show up right in front of you." He giggled.

"Yeah. Like you did that night in the pavilion." You barely whispered but he still heard you.

"Yeah. Like I did that night!" He continued laughing while all you could think about was the huge possibility that he would suddenly disappear just like how he suddenly showed up.

"You said you just stay in a city for a month. That means you're leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Hmm.." Jaehyun hummed as he showed his dimples while thinking. "Nope." He continued.

"What?" You suddenly stopped in your tracks to face him.

"I said nope. I'm not leaving tomorrow. Or anytime soon."

"But why? You decided to break your rule? Don't know which city to visit next?"

"None of the above, Y/N." He said with a mischievous smile.

"Then why?" You were happy and relieved to hear that Jaehyun wouldn't leave yet, but you were also extremely anxious and impatient to know why.

"Nothing complicated for a reason." He declared, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweater as he slightly squirmed on his feet. "I just.. fell in love with the place, with the people, with you." He looked at you as the last word slipped from his lips.

You didn't quite catch on, you were a bit slow. There was a short moment of awkward silence caught between the two of you until you finally understood what he just said.

You took a few steps back. "I.. I don't know what to say, Jaehyun. Should I believe you? You're a runaway who just comes and goes-"

"Not this time, Y/N. Not this time." Jaehyun persuaded you, stepping forward and gently holding your arms to prevent you from moving away further. "I know that based on my routine, yes I'm supposed to leave tomorrow. And yes, I'm a runaway who comes and goes but for some reason, I don't want to now. There's some energy that keeps me here, that makes me want to stay even one more day. Then another day, then another one. And every night as I lay in my bed in the dark, I keep thinking what that energy is. Till I realized that it's you. That energy is you, it's always been you. You're like a strong magnet that attracts me so fucking much." 

By the time Jaehyun ended his confession, his grip on your arms was slightly tighter and his breath was running out. While you on the other hand had your own breath caught up in your lungs, overwhelmed with everything you just heard.

"You're not leaving because of me? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes, Y/N. I'm not leaving without you." He replied with a cheeky smile as he let go of your arms.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you want to leave, right? We'll leave together!" He said excitedly. A minute ago he was being serious and hot and now he's back to his cute self.

You looked uncertain and so Jaehyun decided to go on.

"Let's wait for the results of the entrance exams and then when we find out that you passed, let's move to the city as soon as we can. Don't worry about where we'll live, I already know a place. I'll take care of everything." 

"What if I don't get accepted to the university?"

"I know you will." He replied confidently with a warm dimpled smile.

"How do you know that.. Wait. You already know a place in the city where we can live?"

"Yup. Actually, I'm from there. I've never told anyone I met on my journey where I came from, but I just told you." He laughed.

"Really? But is it alright for you to return there next month? You might want to travel more."

"Nope. For now I'm good already. I can travel again anyway. But when that time comes, I won't be alone anymore. I'll take you with me, even just for a few weekends when you're not busy with university." 

You were very much amazed by Jaehyun. It seemed that he already had everything planned out for the two of you, even though you have yet to give him a "Yes". You looked down on the ground to avoid his gaze and to process what's happening.

"I understand if you're hesitant or if you want to say no. We've only known each other for a month so maybe I haven't gained your full trust. But I just want you to know that I won't harm you in any way. I'm not even doing this for myself. I'm doing this for you."

"What do you mean by that?" You looked up at him, eyes glistening with tears.

"I want to save you. Save you from your abusive father. Save you from that disastrous home, if you can even call it one. The first time we met that night in the pavilion, we were complete strangers to each other but you opened up to me and after hearing what you said, I knew that I had to do something to help. Do something more than just making you my personal tour guide. Definitely something more than that. I can't just leave you. My conscience wouldn't be able to take it." He delivered the last sentence as he gently turned your left arm around to show the small purple bruise you were hiding.

"How did you know?"

"I saw it as you were going down the bus earlier. Your dad is a fucking horrible person." He hissed, gritting his teeth.

"Calm down. It's nothing. It doesn't hurt anymore." You said as you took back your arm and forced a smile.

"Please come with me. Please? You don't have to continue living like this. I can help you have a better life. A secure life without any form of abuse." He said as he wiped your tears and held your face.

You looked into his eyes and there you saw honesty that showed he meant everything he's been telling you. "You know, I intentionally avoided you this past week. It's not true that I was busy. I ignored your calls and texts on purpose." 

Jaehyun blinked twice and furrowed his brows in confusion, obviously taken aback.

"I told my friend about you and she advised that it would be best for me if I stop myself from completely falling for you so I could save myself from the heartbreak caused by falling for someone who would eventually leave. She told me not to fall for a guy who's on vacation." You said before you pursed your lips tightly in order to stop more tears from falling.

Jaehyun slowly removed his hands from your face but not his gaze and you feared that he would take back all his promises.

"I understand your friend's concern and that you're afraid of getting your heart broken by me. But as I already said, I'm not leaving without you. You don't have to be afraid of anything."

You breathed out a sigh of relief before he continued, "So, will you come with me?" 

"Yes, Jaehyun. I'll go with you." You finally declared.

"Oh my god, really?! Thank you. Thank you so much, Y/N. I'm so happy you have no idea." He said, exhaling the breath he unconsciously held in his throat as he placed his forehead against yours.

"I'm the one who should say thank you, Jaehyun. Really. So, you're now my knight in shining armor?" You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you.

"Nope. Not in shining armor. After those months of being a runaway and fending for myself, you think my armor is still shiny? I'm battle-hardened, sweetheart." He said before leaving a kiss on your lips. 

You held hands as the two of you walked, asking each other where to go for dinner. For the first time in ever, love and a sense of security was felt in your heart.

[spartanguard]

you belong among the wildflowers

Summary: Emma Swan's life has been far from easy. Neither has Killian Jones'. Through a handful of meetings, a couple tattoos, and some fantastic music, maybe they'll find a happy ending. (CS Modern AU heavily inspired by the music of Tom Petty) | Rated GA, 7k | tw: minor mentions of alcoholism

a/n: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, HOLLI!!! aka @mryddinwilt​ I started planning this AU quite a while ago, in honor of our shared love of “Wildflowers”, but then it kind of spiraled when I sat down to write last Monday only to learn of Tom Petty’s passing. So this is kind of double duty as your bday present and an ode to one of my all-time favorite musicians.

thank you to @shipsxahoy and @optomisticgirl for looking at this!

Hope your day was amazing, Holli, and hope you enjoy this! Thank you for always being an encouraging, awesome person!! <3

“You belong among the wildflowers...you belong somewhere you feel free.”

She wasn’t sure when she first heard the song. It must have been on the radio when Emma was a kid, in one foster home or another. The memory was fuzzy, but the sentiment was clear: that she deserved to be happy one day, and to have love and peace.

Those all seemed like things well out of reach for a 16-year-old runaway orphan, but it was a nice thought. And a wildflower was as good as anything else to get a tattoo of, especially when the main goal in getting a tattoo was more just getting one out of rebellion than wanting it to carry any specific symbolism. Who knew, though? Maybe she’d eventually get that.

At least, that was what she told herself as the needle stung the skin inside her wrist. She liked to think she was tough, and she’d certainly been hit harder, but—ow. Oh well, it was probably due punishment for using a fake ID to get it in the first place.

On the other side of the dingy parlor was a guy who couldn’t be more than couple years older than her—fresh out of high school, probably, since it was early summer—also wincing through the work being done on his forearm. But when he realized she was staring, he sent a sly grin and a wink her way, making her blush. What? He was cute, even if his “beard” was patchy stubble at best and doing nothing to mature his babyish features.

He left halfway through hers being done, but was smoking against the building outside once she finished, with a guitar case propped against the wall next to him.

“Want one?” he offered, holding the pack out to her; she didn’t realize she’d been staring again. She also had never smoked before, but—eh, what the hell? She strode forward and, as expertly as she could manage, slid one out of the box and held it between her fingers like she’d seen done so many times. He deftly flicked his lighter and she lit the cigarette, then brought it to her lips and inhaled...and then sputtered and coughed once the smoke hit her lungs, which was received with a deep chuckle.

“First one?” he teased, blue eyes laughing. Her response was continued coughing. “Well, you never forget your first.” She glared. “Don’t breathe so deep,” he offered, his accented voice turning gentle.

Once she’d regained her faculties, she tried it again, doing as he said. She wasn’t a fan but it was definitely better.

“There you go, love,” he cheered, sounding almost proud.

“Not your love,” she threw back.

“Fair enough.” She joined him against the wall and they settled into an easy silence. He didn’t have to say anything for her to get the sense that they had more in common than being freshly tatted; the fact that he was alone, too, spoke volumes.

But then she nearly jumped when he introduced himself. “Name’s Killian; Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan.”

“Suits you.”

“What does?”

“Swan.”

“What does that mean?” Maybe things were better when he was quiet; this boy had no idea how to talk to girls, did he?

“It means you’re feisty and I’d rather not piss you off.” Well, okay; actually, that was probably the best complement she’d ever received. “Is that your tattoo? A swan?”

Oh, right—people asked what tattoos meant. Better get used to that. “Uh, no—it’s a flower,” she blurted out, shoving her wrist toward him and showing off the fresh ink. “It’s...well, it’s pretty, and it’s...a reminder, I guess.”

“Of what?” He was genuinely curious.

“That even though I’ve had a rough start, I can still have a happy life.”

He smiled at her, cutting dimples into his round, boyish cheeks. “That’s awfully brave, lass.”

She just shrugged; maybe it was, but if she gave up hope, what kind of life would she have? Unused to such praise, she turned the attention back to him. “What’s yours?”

He held out his arm, showing off the intricate heart design, deep red against his lightly tanned skin.

“That’s gorgeous,” she muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious of her colorless outline. “What's it mean? Are you in lo-ove?” she sing-songed—a well-used defense mechanism that she had a feeling he’d see right through.

“No, not yet,” he brushed off with a laugh. “But someday. Just like you, I have hope.”

She scoffed. “You really think anyone will love people like us?”

“Even the losers get lucky sometimes.”

They spent the rest of the night burning through the pack of cigarettes and wandering the backstreets of Boston, chatting under the light of the full moon. He was from England, originally, but he and his brother ended up in the states with a distant relative after their parents were gone. He’d just graduated high school and was headed west, just like her, but he was chasing a dream, just he and his acoustic. She just wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Let me know if you end up in Portland,” she told him once they’d found their way to the bus terminal. Funny that her last night in Boston was when she’d make her first real friend.

“Will do. Take care, Swan,” he goodbyed with a salute, boarding his L.A.-bound coach.

She waved him off, watching as his bus faded into the dark and silently promising to try.

“The last three days the rain was unstoppable. It was always cold, no sunshine.”

“Sounds about right,” Emma muttered to herself as she putted around the record store. More like last year, for her. As good as it was to finally be out of jail, she was quickly learning that not many places were eager to hire an 18-year-old ex-con with barely even a GED. Thank goodness there was a homeless shelter nearby, but the beds there sucked even worse than her prison cot and what she wouldn’t give for something just a little plush to sink her still-aching body into. Though, she supposed, that ranked pretty low on her current list of problems.

She’d just come back from yet another unsuccessful interview—who knew McDonald’s was so picky?—and had a stack of even more applications in her backpack to fill out and return. But her spirit was just a little bit more shattered after her shit morning, so she popped into the music shop to see if that could perk her up a bit. Plus, it was air conditioned, which automatically made it better than the Arizona oven outside.

She browsed the used vinyl, skimming titles both familiar and unfamiliar as someone sang and played somewhere in the store. Honestly, that was the main reason she’d stuck around; she certainly couldn’t afford to buy anything, but the free show was already helping her mood. And it was hard to feel unmotivated when that song was playing.

“There's something good waitin' down this road. I'm pickin' up whatever is mine. Yeah runnin' down a dream…”

She was halfway ready to pull out a pen and start filling out all those forms right there in the middle of the store, but then she realized that there was something oddly familiar about that voice. Cautiously, she followed the power cords toward the back of the shop, where a makeshift performance venue was set up.

And there he was, after all this time. Killian Jones.

He looked a little bit more worn, just like she probably did; the scraggly beard had filled in some; his dark hair was just as much a mess as it had been a couple years ago, and that tattoo was teasing her from under the rolled-up sleeve of a plaid shirt while he played his guitar. More than a few times, she’d wondered if he’d had any success. Phoenix was a far cry from Los Angeles, but hey, he was performing—and performing well.

She hung out near the back of the small crowd, just watching him pour his heart into his instrument and the microphone. The audience was bobbing along and tapping their feet to the familiar tune, and his acoustic rendition and soulful voice made it all the more endearing.

And then the song ended, he thanked the crowd, and they dispersed as he packed up his things. A few people slipped him some tips, and he flashed that dimpled smile that made her own mouth tick up at the corner. It was good seeing him happy, even if the odds were high he’d long forgotten her. Out of curiosity, she wondered if he had.

She carefully made her way to him. “Hey.”

He stood straight up at her voice, then slowly turned toward her, a grin forming on his face. “Swan?”

That answered that question. “Killian,” she answered with a small smile.

“Bloody hell.” To her surprise, he engulfed her in a hug, but quickly, she returned it. “How’ve you been, love? I’m sorry I never made it to Portland, but here you are and...wow. Do you want to get coffee?”

She was nearly whiplashed from the warm reception; she hadn’t been expecting that. “Uh,” she stammered, not sure how to approach the money thing.

“My treat,” he quickly added enthusiastically.

“Okay.”

They settled into a corner table of a quiet little cafe, and before he could ask her about the last two years, she quickly focused on him: “So, are you a rock star yet?”

He snorted. “Hardly. Only had enough bus fare to get me to Oklahoma, so I’ve been picking my way across the country ever since. But I’ve been playing bars and shops all the time, saving up. Actually, I’m catching a train to L.A. tomorrow. Care to join?” he offered with a wink.

“I wish,” she answered, laughing. “Looks like I’m stuck here for a bit.”

“Oh?” He seeemed genuinely disappointed. “Fancy job here?”

“I’d take any job, actually. I...I just got out of prison.”

“Oh. I see.” To his credit, he didn’t try to put any distance between them, like most people would. Actually, he was almost annoyingly in her space; if it was anyone else, she’d be the one backing away, but Killian’s presence was unusually calming. And, for some reason, she felt compelled to spill the whole thing.

“Yeah, I, uh, met a guy in Portland, and he got me in trouble. Set me up for the stuff he did. He ran off, I got caught. Ended up in jail for a year. Had a kid. So, here I am, a year later. Just giving it another go, I guess.”

“Wait—back up; you had a kid?”

Oh. She curled in on herself a bit; she hadn’t meant to say that part. “Yeah. Found out while I was in there. He’s...I put him up for adoption. No one wants a teenage jailbird for a mom.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand, turning it over to find her tattoo. As he rubbed it with his thumb, he said, “A couple of years ago, I met a fiery young lass who told me that even though she had a rough start, she still had hope for a happy life.” She averted her eyes, studying the floor instead; it had been a long time since she’d given that tattoo thought, going so far as to cover it with marker while in jail. Things had been pretty bleak then and weren’t looking much better. “Hope is a powerful thing, Emma; don’t tell me you’ve lost yours.”

“Hard not to.”

“Don’t, Emma. You deserve it.” She finally glanced up, and the resolve in his blue eyes was nearly intimidating. Slowly, she nodded, though she still wasn’t sure she believed it.

She nodded at his forearm. “What about you? Found your true love yet?”

He chuckled. “Not yet. But I’m sure they’re out there.”

“I hope you find them, Killian.”

“I hope you find your happy ending, too, Swan.”

Again, they spent the night together, wandering around Phoenix, him smoking and her not (she’d learned her lesson there), until they ended up outside the train station.

“Look me up if you ever end up in L.A., alright? I’ll be the one playing the Viper Room.”

She wanted to laugh, but he was so confident. “I will. Good luck, Killian.”

“You too, Emma.”

They embraced before he boarded the train, and she waved until it was a speck in the distance, before heading back to the shelter with a bit more determination than she’d had the night before.

“Well, the moon sank as the wind blew and the street lights slowly died…”

Man, what a night. It was 11 o’clock, but she was too keyed up to hit the sack, despite everything that had happened already. And the thought of heading back to the just-slightly-nicer-than-a-fleabag motel she was staying in quickly made her decide that if she was stuck in Nashville, she may as well enjoy it.

The nice thing about the town was that there was music and life everywhere, with no signs of dying anytime soon. She had her pick of the bars, and it only mattered what kind of music she was in the mood for.

The more famous venues were all packed, but there were plenty of holes-in-the-wall and dives to grab a drink and a show. A cozy little place stood out to her, and pleasing, upbeat, classic-sounding rock was escaping the open door. She gave her skintight dress a quick tug down (ugh, this thing loved to ride up); flashed her legal, 22-year-old ID at the bouncer (not that he was looking at it); and headed into the smoky, hazy bar.

The band onstage was good, and so was the whiskey. It was nice to just be able to chill for a moment; she hadn’t been able to do much of that with her new job. Not at night, especially. Spying a few plush couches toward the back of the place, she got a refill and headed back, hoping to put her feet up for a bit and maybe even kick off these impractical heels.

The eyes of just about every man in the bar landed on her as she passed through, but she’d gotten pretty used to ignoring that by now. Until one pair did a double take and called out for her.

“Emma?”

She stopped—no way it was him. His Facebook page hadn’t said anything about Nashville—did it?

“Swan, is that you?”

But clearly, her memory was unreliable, because she turned and there he was: Killian Jones, rockstar. Well, almost rockstar, but he certainly looked the part in his skinny jeans, black t-shirt, and—“Are you wearing eyeliner?”

“Good to see you, too,” he teased before wrapping her up in a hug, then stepping back and giving her a once over. “I’m going to guess you didn’t just get out of jail this time.”

“Nope,” she answered, laughing. “Just enjoying a night on the town. Are you performing here?”

“Yeah, I’m the next set.”

“I had no idea!”

“You say that as if you should have had one.”

“I mean, you do have a Facebook page.”

“Did you ‘like’ me, Swan?”

“Of course I ‘like’ you.” It was amazing to her how she could so easily slip into the same old banter with someone she’d only spent hours with, but it felt like so much longer. “I’ve gotta be able to tell everyone that I once had coffee with a rockstar.”

He ducked his head and laughed, cheeks growing adorably rosy. “I’m not there yet, but,” he jerked his thumb toward a professional-looking woman with dark curly hair, “my manager thinks I will be soon.”

“You will.” Emma had never been more sure of anything. Her own life was still in flux, but she’d always known that teenage boy from what felt like a lifetime ago would go on to big things, even if his face had lost some of that youthful softness now. “Do you have time for a drink?”

“Of course.”

They settled on a sofa and caught each other up on the last four years: he did finally make it to L.A., and worked as a bouncer a bit before finally catching a break—and the eye—of a talent scout, and then a record label. And now he was on tour, trying to drum up enough attention to be able to put together an album.

“I tried to catch you in Tallahassee, but it didn’t work out. Got too busy that night.”

His eyes narrowed with uncertainty. “And what are you up to now?”

“Using my good looks to trap guys,” she answered, only semi-sarcastically.

“Swan, beg your pardon if this is rude, but…” His eyes drifted over her outfit again, and he seemed oddly concerned. “Are...are you a hooker?” he asked quietly.

She was taken aback at first, but then could only laugh. “No, but I can see why you’d think that. I’m in bail bonds. This is honestly the best way to nab a skip.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “I was near ready to offer you a job on my road crew,” he replied with a wink.

“You couldn’t afford me,” she threw back, smirking.

They kept chatting, and she had another drink, letting the warm buzz of liquor settle in her veins and relax her. Unconsciously, she found herself moving closer and closer to him, until her bare arm was lined up with his. If he cared, he didn’t say, or maybe his rum was having a similar effect.

He traced her tattoo with his index finger. “How’s this going?” he asked; he was still the only person who knew what it meant.

“Slowly. But things don’t suck anymore.”

“Sounds like progress.”

She followed suit, drawing her thumb around the edge of the heart on his arm. “And you? Found your love yet?” Her lips nearly brushed the pointed tip of his ear, they were so close now.

“No. Still waiting.”

“You’re a patient man, Killian Jones.”

“Aye, that I am.”

His voice dropped on that, with a seriousness she wasn’t used to hearing from him. She shifted away just enough to get a good look at his face, and his eyes were boring into hers, practically neon in contrast to the low lights of the bar. The words of the singer on stage swam into her consciousness; it was nearly comical how perfectly they fit the moment.

“But then somethin' I saw in your eyes told me right away that you were gonna have to be mine…”

The air between them grew heated very fast, raising goosebumps on her arm. And before she knew it, she was surging forward, crashing her lips into his.

Her hands found the nape of neck and his settled on her waist as she kissed him with everything she had. There was something just so perfect, so soul-satisfying about it as she nipped at his lower lip, that she didn’t know why she’d waited so long.

Their mouths and tongues fought for dominance as he held her tight, until finally they had to break apart for air. And then she realized what she’d just done, and who she kissed, and whose arms were holding her tight, and instantly backed away.

Hope was one thing, but the reality of a love—of a relationship—was still too daunting.

He rasped, “That was…”

“...A one-time thing,” she finished for him, not giving him another answer. She couldn’t; not with him. It was Killian. Their meeting was a fluke and the odds of it happening again were so slim; what was she thinking? Even if he was the one person who understood her; just—no. They couldn’t.

She hastily grabbed her purse and stood, a little too fast judging by the way the room spun. “Emma, wait—” Killian started, hopping up to stabilize her.

“No, Killian, I—I can’t.” She shrugged him off, not daring to look in his eyes. “Good luck.”

His plea fell on deaf ears as she raced out of the bar into the night, but one last line of lyrics caught her attention.

I'll never get over how good it felt when you finally held me; I’ll never regret…

But she would regret it, she knew. So it was better to run now.

“I'm so tired of being tired. Sure as night will follow day...”

It was raining—storming, really, and the power had gone out. So when someone started banging on her townhouse door from out in the dark night, louder than the battery-operated radio she had on, Emma was as terrified of an intruder as she was concerned it was someone seeking shelter.

Should have known it would be both.

The pounding grew quiet and a muffled voice was singing something unintelligible, which was then followed by a soft thud against the door and the hollow sound of a dropped glass that should have broken but somehow didn’t.

Baseball bat in hand, she cautiously tiptoed down the hall and peered through the peephole. Whoever it was was slumped against the door, soaked to the bone, and was dramatically raising their arm to knock again. As the sleeve of their leather jacket rode up thanks to gravity, she got a glimpse of a tattoo she’d recognize anywhere—though it was a bit different now. Just like him, she supposed.

“Killian, I’m opening the door; stand back,” she called, not wanting him to collapse in her entryway. Something told her he was going to regardless, but she heard a groan and the sounds of movement as she undid the locks and chains.

And then she swung open the door, and there he was. “Swan.” A tired smile deepend the lines around his eyes; she responded with a tentative one of her own. She honestly thought she’d never see him again after that night three years ago in Nashville—that he wouldn’t want anything to do with her, especially once he had hit it big.

But now a one-hit wonder was standing on her front porch, dripping wet and reeking of rum. Unable to come up with anything to say, she just stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.

“’M sorry to barge in on you like this,” he stammered, staring at the wood floor. “I...jus’ didn’ know where else t’go.”

“How did you even find me?”

“Same as you found me. Facebook. The internet.” It was her turn to cast her eyes down; she still ‘liked’ all his social media posts, but figured he’d never notice.

As a result of said stalking, she knew everything that had happened to him in the last few years, especially with his manager-turned-girlfriend. The celeb magazines loved him and Milah, going so far as to call them “Millian,” especially when his debut album was tearing up the charts. She’d seen the excess, the wild living, and the absolute love in his eyes when he was with her. She’d been happy for him, truly. And damn if that album wasn’t a rocker.

But then, in true rockstar fashion, he partied too much, lived too hard, and then the two of them got in a wreck. They weren’t at fault, thankfully, but Milah was killed instantly. He dropped out of the spotlight, was dropped from his label, and had seemingly disappeared.

Only to show up on her doorstep, on the other side of the country, clearly heartbroken and drunk as a skunk. Lucky her.

“Come on; you need a shower.”

“I keep crawling back to you...I keep crawling back to you.”

After getting him clean and dry—a feat in itself, given the lack of lights—and into the too-big clothes some one-night stand had forgotten, she had him wrapped in a blanket on the other end of her couch, where she sat watching him sip hot cocoa while the radio made background noise. Where he’d at least been a bit happy at seeing her when he arrived, now he just seemed like a kicked puppy, albeit a wasted one.

“So, how you’ve been?” he asked, in a tone that was too forced to be casual.

“Seriously?”

“What?” he threw back, glaring at her. “I’m sure you know all about me; isn’t it fair that I get caught up, too?”

“There’s nothing to catch up on.” There wasn’t, really; she just continued to catch skips and move around; it was pure luck that he caught her here in New York. “And I’m not the one abusing their liver here.”

“Be glad you don’t have a reason to.” He set his empty mug on the coffee table with a thunk and slumped against the cushions.

She scooted closer to him and gently took hold of his arm, running a thumb along his tattoo. He’d added to it since she saw him last: now, it had a jagged dagger down the middle, and a ribbon bearing Milah’s name. It looked fresh. “She seemed like an awesome woman,” Emma commented, hoping that might get him to open up.

“She is. She was. Bloody hell, I’ll never get used to that.”

Emma kept studying the tattoo, knowing that if she looked at him, she might lose her composure. “You got your wish, though: you had love.”

He just grunted. “Fat lot of good it did me. The high was better than any drug, and the crash is far worse.”

“The rum probably doesn’t help.”

“Doesn’t hurt.”

He fell silent after that, and she continued to massage his arm. The fist he’d been holding tight eventually slackened, and his breathing evened out. Finally, she dared to look at his face; he was asleep, but didn’t seem to be at peace. Dark circles nearly matched his thick eyelashes; his beard was scraggly again, but due to it being unkempt rather than juvenile; and hair was an uneven mess. How did someone who seemed to have everything going for them suddenly end up like this?

She stared down at her own tattoo. It seemed to be mocking her now. If things had gone so terribly for Killian once his dream was reached, then surely hers had no better chance of coming true. What a waste.

Killian spent the night on her couch and she made him breakfast the next morning, forcing food and water into him to help him detox. He was sober, it seemed, but she recognized the shaky hands that were gripping his fork with all he had.

“I can’t thank you enough for taking me in, Swan,” he finally said after the arduous process of eating was done. “You had no reason to; I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me,” she assured him. “But if you do feel like making it up to me: get help.”

He nodded solemnly. “I will.”

They both sensed the goodbye that was coming, but she had one more question. “Killian, why did you come to me?”

He just shrugged and smiled sadly. “You understand.”

She did.

The TMZ headline about his rehab stint lifted a weight off her, knowing he’d be okay—and making it that much easier to continue with her next move. It had been a minor blessing he’d been too far gone to notice all the boxes.

And then she made sure her address wasn’t listed online. For security—or so she told herself.

This place was certainly out of range of a Starbucks, but at least Storybrooke had some sort of coffee shop. It was one of those quaint, hipstery cafes that she generally made a point to avoid on account of being too homey—but, if Henry got his wish, that's what this little seaside town would become.

God, Henry—she was still pinching herself. Obviously, she'd thought about him a lot in the past ten years, but she never imagined he'd show up at her door the way he did, dragging her back here. He was a fantastic kid, better than she could ever hope for, and certainly better than she could have done.

His adoptive mother was obviously (rightly) uneasy with the situation, given that Henry basically blackmailed Emma into bringing him back and then into staying longer to get to know each other. It seemed he was a bit of a loner, and a generally curious kid, so it kind of made sense to her why he’d want to have her around. Assuming Regina allowed it, of course.

And hey, Emma could use a vacation. Two weeks away from the hustle and bustle of city life? She could do that, even if meant changing up her means of sating her caffeine addiction.

Thankfully, it was hard to mess up her coffee order, so she found a comfy corner of the shop and settled in with a book, killing time until Henry got out of school. The window she was seated by gave a stunning view of the Atlantic, and for a while, she got lost in the morning lights dancing on the waves.

“Well I started out down a dirty road…”

Emma stilled. She should have known this would be the type of place to have a guitar player. But that in itself wasn’t what froze her blood—it was that voice.

“Started out all alone…”

Impossible. Granted, he’d fallen off the radar since he went to rehab, so she just assumed he was back on the road somewhere. She’d never imagine he’d be here, though.

“I’m learning to fly, but I ain’t got wings. Coming down is the hardest thing.”

She was almost scared to look; she hadn’t taken her eyes off the ocean since hearing that first line. But she knew she had to.

And there he was: perfectly at home behind the mic with an acoustic guitar, perched on a stool in jeans and plaid, getting lost in the music like he did all those years ago in Arizona.

And he looked good. It was hard to look worse than he had when they’d last been together, but Killian appeared not just healthy, but happy. His ginger beard was neatly trimmed, hair was intentionally disheveled, and there was a brightness in his eyes again that sparkled like the sun on the water she’d just been staring at.

“Well some say life will beat you down. Break your heart, steal your crown.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered. Unconsciously, she started rubbing her tattoo with her thumb, like she'd taken to whenever he crossed her thoughts. It was great to see him like this, but it also made her realize just how far she was from anything resembling the peace that showed in the relaxed set of his shoulders and gentle smile as he sang.

“I’m learning to fly around the clouds. What goes up must come down.”

Thankfully, the cafe had a side door. Calmly, she gathered her things and slipped out. At some point, she knew she’d probably run into him—this town was only so big—but she didn’t want to face that today.

Fate had other plans, though, when she wasn’t paying attention to her path while she and Henry headed to the diner for an after-school hot cocoa. While listening to Henry tell her about that day’s ornithology lesson, she collided with something warm, solid, and familiar that instantly braced its arms around her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, lass—Emma?” His mouth hung open in disbelief when he realized it was her, eyes growing wide as he studied her, then crinkling at the corners with a grin.

“Hey,” she answered meekly, with a shy smile of her own.

“Bloody hell, I’ve missed you,” he exclaimed, pulling her in for an actual hug that she couldn’t help but reciprocate. It was Killian, after all—he was still right when he’d said they understood each other. His arms felt just as good as they had that night in Nashville. And no one had ever missed her before. “Where did you go?”

“I moved right after—”

“Mom, you know Killian?” Henry asked, interrupting their reunion.

Killian pulled back with a quizzical expression on his raised brow. “‘Mom’?”

“Emma’s my birth mother!” Henry shouted before Emma had a chance to reply, so she just nodded. Recognition sparked in Killian’s eyes, likely thinking back to that conversation years ago. Henry continued, “How do you guys know each other?”

“We go way back, lad,” Killian answered. “Your mum’s me oldest friend.” She blushed, but he was probably hers, too.

“Oy, what about me?” a similarly accented voice protested. Killian finally let Emma go and stepped away, and a slightly taller man was standing behind him. (She refused to admit that she immediately missed Killian’s presence around her.)

“Emma, this is my brother, Liam. He’s my—I’ve been with him for the last couple years, since...since I last saw you.”

She could fill in the blanks. “It’s nice to meet you,” she started, extending her hand, but then was shocked to be pulled into another hug.

“Thank you, Emma,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. She was stunned, but nodded a response.

How was it she’d only been in this town a matter of days and already felt more wanted, more a part of things than anywhere else she’d been in the last 28 years?

Liam pulled back and cleared his throat; she pretended not to see the watery look in his eyes. “I’d love to stay and chat, but Killian and I have an appointment.”

“Can we get coffee sometime?” Killian asked quietly. “I’d love to catch up.”

“Yeah, me too,” she replied, unable to deny it anymore. She at least owed it to him.

Two days later, she arrived at the shop a couple hours before the time they’d decided on so she could catch him playing again. This time, she didn’t hide in the corner, and she didn’t run off before they could chat. He’d seen her, anyway, and knowing him, would just track her down if she’d tried to flee. She was tempted to, though, when he sang the last song of his set.

“I dreamed you; I saw your face. Caught my lifeline when drifting through space.

I saw an angel; I saw my faith. I can only thank God it was not too late.”

His eyes drifted to her more than once and she could feel her cheeks burning red. Add that to the list of firsts on this whirlwind trip: first time someone sang a song to her. And, of course, it was something super deep and heartfelt and she wasn’t tearing up, not at all, because how did this random friendship with a guy she’s barely spent 24 total hours with become so damn important?

“Now I'm walking this street on my own. But she's with me everywhere I go.

Yeah, I found an angel; I found my place. I can only thank God it was not too late.”

“How’d I do?” he asked seriously, once he was packed away and they were settled into plush chairs and fresh drinks. His sincerity took her by surprise—this was the guy who’d headlined some pretty major venues (including the Viper Room), and he was concerned over his performance in a coffee shop?

“You were fantastic; why would you be anything else?”

He blushed and ducked his head down in that sweetly embarrassed move she’d seen so many times. “I’m just getting back into it. Couldn’t while I was in rehab, and just...didn’t want to once I got here.”

“How could you not? It’s such a huge part of your life.”

He shrugged. “It was also a reminder of everything I’d lost.”

She knew that all too well, and couldn’t really blame him. That was why she’d been so transient in the last decade, and why she never got too close to people. They always left and let her down. Save for Killian, she supposed, despite his erratic presence in her life.

“So what have you been doing?” she asked. It was easy to fill a life with working and moving, like she did; it was hard for her to imagine what someone did staying in one place for as long as he’d been here.

“Helping Liam with his business—he runs the marina. Done a lot of sailing, a lot of reading. And I’ve been seeing a therapist.”

“Good.”

“Aye,” he agreed, nodding. “It’s been good, but it wasn’t quite...fulfilling, I guess would be the right word. So both Liam and my doc both encouraged me to pick up playing again, to see if that would help.”

“And?”

“So far, so good,” he concluded with a smile. “I was denying myself my own happiness by avoiding it, despite all the bad memories.”

“Even though you got your heart broken?”

“If it can be broken, that means it still works.”

His revelation hit her like a sword in the gut. Again, she started rubbing her tattoo, thinking of that far-off dream she’d once had. Had she been denying herself the chance at it?

Was she too scared of getting hurt again to go after her happy ending? Was it even worth it?

Or, more accurately, was it worth it not to?

“Swan?” His worried voice made her realize she’d zoned out, and the furrow in his brow when she looked up was a bit more concern than she could handle in the wake of massive personal epiphany.

“I...I’ve gotta go, Killian, I’m sorry,” she sputtered as she stood. “I’ll call you, or find you, or something,” she added on, babbling. “Just...I need to...go.”

She didn’t turn around to see the fallen, distressed look on his face; she just went. She needed to think. Her trusty yellow Bug was waiting outside and she just drove for a while, finally stopping at a scenic overlook with a panoramic view of the harbor. She didn’t even leave her car; the sight was impressive enough from where she was seated. And she let Killian’s words sink in.

She’d once dreamed of a life where she’d feel happy and secure. Not one where she’d want for nothing—just one where she had what she needed. And maybe even one where someone chose her.

But life had thus far proven that it was just a dream and she was better on her own, scraping by and making do. Had she just gotten so used to it that it was her norm? Or was she scared that by opening herself to that possibility of a happy life again, she’d inevitably get her ass kicked by the world and would never recover?

The last time she’d seen Killian, he was utterly defeated. Thankfully, she’d never gotten that low, but he managed to overcome it. He had hope—she could see it shining in those blue eyes. If he could do it, why couldn’t she?

The sun slowly fell and it grew dark around her as she sat with her thoughts. An ancient streetlight eventually flickered to life above her, rousing her from her thought-filled trance, and she knew what she had to do.

Because there was one person who had never left her. One who always had faith in her and understood her. And if she was going to go after that mythical happy ending, she wanted him at her side.

The next day found her at the coffee shop yet again. She was a bit late after having breakfast with Henry, but she arrived just in time for the last couple songs of Killian’s set.

“Had to find some higher ground. Had some fear to get around.”

There he was again, reading her like a book. She’d wonder how he did that, but again—they just got each other. And she was ready to turn to the next page.

“Square one, my slate is clear. Rest your head on me my dear. It took a world of trouble, took a world of tears—it took a long time to get back here.”

Once he was packed up, he cautiously approached her. “You alright, love?”

“Will you go out with me?”

If her straightforwardness caught her by surprise, it nearly knocked him off his feet. He practically fell in the chair next to her. “Beg your pardon?”

“Go out with me. On a date.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking?”

“Don’t tell me you’re that old-fashioned, Jones.”

He chuckled. “I heartily accept, Swan.”

The date was perfect: good food, good wine, and a stroll under the stars—so many more in Storybooke than Boston, and the nerd pointed out some of the constellations to her.

The gentle kiss outside her rented room was even better. There was none of the awkwardness of Nashville, or the altered inhibitions. It just felt good and right and somehow perfect, like she’d been waiting for it forever, but hadn’t been ready yet.

She got a job in Storybrooke. She grew closer with Henry. She made more friends in town—Mary Margaret, the teacher; David, the vet; Belle, the librarian (and Liam’s wife). Once she gave in, once she let herself go after it, her happy ending settled around her—or maybe she was the one who settled into it.

Whichever it was didn’t matter; it was hers and it was real and she was never letting it go.

The cool wind whipped against her face from where she stood on the prow of the boat, but Killian’s strong arms held her close and kept her warm, and she leaned into his solid, sure presence that hadn’t wavered...well, ever, even when they were apart. His sweet voice sang in her ear and she knew—she finally had made it.

“You belong among the wildflowers.

You belong in a boat out at sea.

You belong with your love on your arm.

You belong somewhere you feel free.”

If you’d like to hear all the songs referenced in this, check out this playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AldoDm2bV04&list=PL7YAlVeSin3Kq_1xtetAI0rovPvp-6Wdk

tagging some others who might enjoy this: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @its-like-a-story-of-love @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @fairytalesandtimetravel @disastergirl @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose