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peakywitch · 3 years

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Alibi - Sean Wallace

“ Hiya creative human being! I was wondering if you could make an imagine with Sean Wallace using 19,28,54 in which he comes back home after been hiding and find out his girlfriend was pregnant and they have a 2-moth-old baby girl???? Random, I know. Love your writing, bye 💕 “

19. “It’s a long story.” “You made me believe you were dead. For eleven months. I have time.”

28. “What…is this?”

54. “I had no choice.”

words: 3097

TW: strong vocabulary, blood, death and yeah

Jesus i have been writing this shit for months MONTHS now, hope you enjoy it!

MASTERLIST

A year ago

"Marian?" Y/N's voice sounded behind the door of the Wallace residence, alarmed “Marian, your car is outside! Open up, please! "

The knocks of her hand against the door sounded incessant. It was eleven o'clock on a cold and rainy Sunday night. No one was to be seen on the street. Her white sneakers were soaked in water and mud, staining them in strange colors. She had stepped on several puddles while running the blocks that separated her from her mother-in-law.

Through the window, Y/N could see that the light came on in the hallway, letting her know that someone was in the house. Impatient and nervous, she clenched her fingers tightly. When the lock began to click, Y/N bit her lip, and nervously combed her hair.

"Y/N?"

Marian was wearing black satin pajamas that brought out the white of her skin and was barefoot but wearing stockings. How could she?

"You were Sleeping?" Y/N asked, unable to understand the situation.

"Of course, Y/N. Tomorrow I have to work early."

The woman spoke tiredly and calmly, she was not upset.

"So Sean is here." She affirmed, breathing for a second and closing her eyes. She realized that she was holding her breath, or at least taking short breaths.

"Sean is not here." The woman denied.

The girl's eyes widened in fear. Marian knew in an instant that everything was wrong.

It was five in the morning; the moon was still hidden behind rain-laden clouds. Three hundred and fifteen calls had gone out of Y/N's phone to Sean's phone. Marian, with her phone, had sent hundreds of messages and the whole family was alerted. No matter the schedule, there were people on every block in London looking for Sean Wallace.

Each call that was diverted to the mailbox was one more tear than Y/N cried. Finn had been killed a year ago, but this had nothing to do with the anniversary of his father's death. He would have warned Billy, so his brother can explain to us all. This was not typical of him.

Nine months ago

Marian set the food on the black marble table and began to store groceries in each drawer. She started the conversation by suggesting to her daughter-in-law that she go to a doctor, to which she laughed.

"I don't want to go without Sean, I won't do this alone."

The woman rolled her eyes, she was stubborn.

"You will not be alone, Y/N." she whispered, as she put down the milk cartons and hugged the young woman. “I am with you, I will help you with whatever you need. Always."

"I can't do this without Sean, Mar." The girl cried, in the woman's arms "I just can't, I ..."

Marian's heart ached just to see the girl Sean loved so devastated, sad, and desolate. There were no words to comfort her or enough hugs to heal her. Her heart ached, she felt lost.

"I will go with you. I will hold your hand and celebrate with you if it is a boy like you want. I will help you put together the room, the crib ... I will teach you everything I learned with three children." She smiled through tears, as she stroked the girl's hair with teary eyes.

Y/N's arms encircled Marian's body, as she

smiled and affirmed that everything would be fine over and over again.

Three months ago

Y/N was in the hospital bed, her white and pink coat was tied and the sweat on her forehead was dry. Marian was sitting in the chair to the right of the bed. She was reading a magazine while thinking that Y/N was resting.

Although she had her water broken, the doctors found it appropriate for her to rest a couple of hours to regain energy before starting the final stage.

"If Sean doesn't show up today..." Y/N whispered, diverting Marian from her magazine. She raised her eyes and approached the young woman so that she did not have to exert a lot of force "If he doesn't appear these days, then..." she took a deep breath, swallowed with effort, and continued "then he is no longer here with us."

"Y/N, Sean... he..."

“No, he promised. He would never leave me alone in this. No ant moves a damn leaf without the idiot knowing. If he doesn't show up in a week, then he's dead, Marian."

The anger in the girl's voice hit her like a bucket of ice water.

Her son.

Her Sean.

Dead.

Marian's eyes filled with tears, just thinking about it broke her heart. The pain made her ignore the apology the girl whispered. Everything was spinning.

So what if Y/N was right?

What if Sean was dead?

Even with the weight of the woman's words, Marian remained there in the hospital. She moved impatiently in time with the clock on the wall. After three hours of parading down the long, white corridor a few thousand times, the doctor mentioned Y/N's name.

"Yes, I am her family." She responded with a slightly nervous smile to the doctor's question. Marian walked shyly through the door, and there she saw Y/N with a small baby in her arms and a smile as big as the sun on her face. Her eyes were full of tears, and her fingers gently caressed the baby's small nose.

Y/N looked up and saw Marian nervous and anxious at the door, watching from afar.

"And?" she smiled "Wouldn't you like to meet your granddaughter, Marian?"

Marian was able to regain consciousness when she saw the blue eyes of a baby staring at her. Those blue eyes, so typical of Sean. Her eyes were very prominent. She had pink cheeks, a nose as small as a button, and soft, plump lips.

"Say hello to your grandma, Olive."

"Olive Wallace," Marian smiled, "Welcome to the family, beautiful."

Present

Marian, Y/N, and Olive had been the best trio London could have ever met. The baby was a fan of photos, or so it seemed since in each photo she looked excellent. Wherever Y/N and Olive were, Marian was by their side. They took care of each other and helped Y/N rest on days that work took a little longer and Olive wouldn't stop crying. Marian had been faithful to her, teaching her tricks, unthinkable ways of doing things, and offering her a shoulder to cry on when she felt like she couldn't take it anymore.

That afternoon had been like any other. After lunch they both bundled up, Y/N bundled Olive up and went for a walk so they could enjoy the cold with a coffee and a good chat.

When they returned, laughing they opened the door. Olive was sleeping peacefully in her pram and Marian was remembering aloud one of the most disastrous days of her life.

"I swear to God, I love my kids but I would never go back to that damn picnic."

Marian took Olive upstairs so she could put the baby to bed in her adorable pink crib. And while Y/N took off her cover, she walked to the kitchen to start making Olive’s dinner.

Although she was happy and infinitely grateful to Sean's mother for having always been by his side, Y/N kept wondering how this last year would have been with her husband by her side. Would he have taken more photos than Marian? Would he speak to Olive, trying to calm her down all those early mornings before her birth in which she wouldn't let her sleep? And suddenly, among so many questions, her eyes burst into tears when she imagined what it would have been like to paint Olive's room with him, see him full of paint, excited, tired, perhaps frustrated by something with the brush or the color. She couldn't help it, the pain overwhelmed her every time Sean's face appeared in her memory. She couldn't even look at his photos, how would she tell Olive who he is, or was, Sean?

She wiped her tears with the sleeves of her woolen sweater, lightly scraping her skin and looking out the kitchen window that overlooked the backyard. Sean loved that garden. He liked to sit on the grass on the days he had off in the spring and read. Or he would watch Y/N take care of her plants for hours, from sunrise to sunset. Then he would fill her face with kisses, pulling grass out of her hair and putting a flower in her ponytail.

“Sean, I ask you for the love of Olive, don’t be dead. I know you checked the cameras every night, so you will listen to me. Please…” she whispered through tears “please don't be dead, come home, I won't be able to without you. I don't want any of this without you. "

As she got ready to prepare Olive's bottle, she heard the rain begin to fall heavily. The sky seemed to fall, as did Y/N's hopes.

As she waited for the microwave timer to ring, her cell phone rang.

Elliot, she read.

"Hello, Elli." Y/N smiled, tired, and trying to sound normal.

"Are you at home?" he asked, agitated. A shrill horn sounded, a few screams, and more honks.

"What happened?"

"Are you at home, or are you not? I need help!" he yelled, then cursed another driver. She pulled the phone away from her ear, briefly stunned.

"Yes, how far away are you?"

The adrenaline rush of the Wallace family business was something that always left a sweet taste in her mouth. She hated violence, but she was almost addicted to the adrenaline it brought.

"I'm parking outside."

The cell phone fell from Y/N's hand, allowing her to call out to Marian with a yell and run to the door at the same time. She flung it open, watching as Elliot and Bill lowered a man with his face covered in blood.

"Oh shit." Y/N was disgusted, containing the retching.

Elliot and Billy knew Sean and Y/N's house by heart, so they took the dying man to the bathroom.

Or so she thought.

The amount of blood she saw made her dizzy, her eyes closed and her back pinned itself to the wall. After taking a deep breath, she felt Marian close the door.

She corroborated the girl's state with a simple question and a caress on her hair. The poor girl could only smile.

"I think that man is going to die, you know?" laughed sadly Y/N “We can only send money to his wife and children. As we do with everyone. "

Marian's lips were tight, she was disgusted, but Y/N was right. That was something she admired about her, she was always right and it was easy for her to tell the painful truth.

She followed her into the kitchen and watched her sit at the table, staring at the wall. Marian was pouring her a glass of water so she could calm down. They remained silent, and it was not until she had completely drunk the glass that she spoke.

“Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I hadn't met Sean. I think I would still be at my mother's house, without a partner, and with a cat."

“There is no way to know that, Y/N. Because you met him and now that…” the woman stopped short, she wouldn't say it “and now that you are here, we are a family. With Billy, Elliot, Olive… we are a family, okay? And we will be there for you, always."

When she was about to answer, Elliot walked into the kitchen. His shirt was bathed in red, all wrinkled. The bleeding cut on his eyebrow alarmed the two women, and the interrogation soon began.

What happened, why, how, where.

Elliot answered everything. An undercover agent broke his alibi, a gang from a strange-named country, near downtown.

"Where is he?" Y/N asked.

"In Sean's office." Elliot replied.

"What is he doing in Sean's office!?" yelled Y / N, and ran off.

"Y/N!"

Elliot chased her through the house, calling out her name. But Y/N all she heard were complaints from herself, Sean's office? Really?

"You have to ask for my permission, Elliot!" she yelled, reaching the door.

"No, Y/N, we ..."

“You nothing, Elliot. This is my house and Sean’s; you can't put anybody in his office! "

Y/N was furious, the screaming had awakened Olive.

“What even is all of these?!” she screamed, the blood always drove her crazy “Listen to me well…” the woman pointed out to the man covered in blood “when I come back in two minutes, I want my husband's office empty and that man in the bathtub in the downstairs room. I don't want blood on the rugs, because you'll clean it up yourself. You heard me?"

Elliot nodded poker-faced, as he watched the woman walk away from him.

Y/N entered her screaming daughter's room with a tired smile. And having closed the door behind her, she took her in her arms and began to sing a soft song to her so that she could fall asleep.

"Olive... princess, sleep with the little angels, mommy loves you..." she whispered at the end of the song, as she left the sleeping baby back in her crib.

"So, I'm a nobody?" a voice whispered from the door.

Y/N spun as fast as light.

There was Sean.

Bathed in blood, with his hair short and no beard. His face was swollen from several punches and had a new scar on his lip. But still, he had that mischievous smile on him. His eyes were tired, but they still held the same sparkle as Olive's.

"You're dead." Y/N assured.

"No, Y/N, I ..."

"Marian!" Y/N cried out.

The rapid footsteps climbing the stairs were heard throughout the house, Sean did not move his eyes from his wife.

"Sean..." Marian whispered in shock. She looked him up and down, saw the blood, the blows, and the cuts. Then, between tears and a sob, she hugged him. They both hugged tightly, and all Y/N wanted to do was throw up.

The blood, the smell, her husband… everything. Everything made her dizzy.

“Where were you?” she murmured, a shiver bathed her body.

“I am sorry…” he started, but she interrupted him abruptly.

“I don’t fucking care if you are sorry or not! Tell me where the fuck you were, because I just went through the hardest year of my life alone, Sean!” she shouted from the top of her lungs.

“It’s a long story, baby, and I am all beaten up.” He smiled tiredly.

He has the nerve to smile?

“You made me believe you were dead. For eleven months. I have time.” She said, now calmly but cold. “Plus, I had to drive a car while on labor, because you decided to disappear. So, start speaking or I swear to God, Sean Wallace, this time it will be you the one suffering a loss.”

“Y/N…” he whispered, trying to get close to her. He tried to take her hand in his, but she got further away from him.

His smile disappeared and got exchanged with a sad look on his face.

Right there, in Olive’s room, he told both women everything. A deal he did a year ago, enemies, guns, drugs, and city from the third world he had to hide in and every name from the people he had to hide from. They spent two hours listening to Sean’s misfortunes, but Y / N wanted to be able to recriminate everything that made her go through alone and to be able to get rid of the anger that was eating her inside.

"Well, the blood on me is a sign of the end of this problem." He had a nervous look, you could see it even though his face was covered in blood. So much seemed fictitious.

Y/N sighed, getting up after her husband finished telling the story.

"Ok." She whispered, walking out the door of her daughter's room with her in her arms.

Sean wanted to follow her, but Marian recommended him to leave her alone for a while, there was too much information she had to process.

Hours passed, Marian, Elliot, and Billy had left the house hours ago and Y/N still did not speak to Sean. For hours she had been sitting on a blanket in the garden. With a book in her hand and a tea by her side, which was quite possibly already cold.

When the sun was no longer visible on the horizon, that was when Sean became concerned. The chill of the London night was ugly, even worse for a baby. Then it was decided, he took two jackets that were in the room and went outside with a doubting pass.

"Hey…" he whispered, sitting next to her and covering her shoulders with his cardigan. She did not answer.

“Where you watching over us?” she asked, on the verge of tears.

“Couldn’t keep my eyes off of the security cameras.” He laughed shily.

“How many times did you see me…asking for a sign?” she began after a few seconds of silence. “How many fucking times did you see me cry at night, Sean?” she started to shed tears. “While you were God knows where, doing Devil knows what…” he interrupted her.

“Y/N, I told you, I had no choice…”

“No!” she spat “Shut up, Sean! Just… shut the hell up. I dreamed of this reunion every single night and prayed every fucking morning. So just let me tell you I fucking felt. Because I was alone, as alone and desperate as you felt when your dad was killed. So please, just understand I won’t be jumping into your arms right away. Even though I missed you, fuck… I missed you like crazy…” he smiled sadly “I am so, so angry Sean. And I want to make you go away again, but the truth is… I can’t be away from you any longer.”

Sean rested his right arm over his wife’s shoulder, and his hand got her head closer to him, allowing him to kiss her skin for the first time in months. After she got the kiss, she broke down in tears, not being able to compose herself.

“I am sorry, I will never leave you again.” He promised while holding her steady against him.

“I know I left, and I hurt you. But you were never alone, you were being watched over, night and day, you and well, that little munchkin.” He said, timidly.

“You want to hold her for the first time, Sean?”

His face lit up.

#sean wallace headcanon #sean wallace #gangs of london #joe cole #sope fanfiction #sope dirisu #joe cole imagine

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ears-awake-eyes-opened · 4 years

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Effie turns 40

(Hayffie 💜🔥💥. NSFW. Sexual content and intensities at the threshold of midlife. Despite the title, this fic is primarily Haymitch-centric. The story, set about 7-8 years after Mockingjay, is part of a longer arc. Envisioning H & E’s character development is such a muse for me. Their voices were difficult for me to write in this one. I’m figuring them out as I go along. It’s a labor of love right now. Thank you for sharing the prompt — #13 below.)

***

Some decisions are calculated; you make them after they’ve turned over in your mind for hours, days, years even. Effie moving to 12 had been like that. Other decisions can’t even be called ‘decisions’ really. ‘Impulses’ would be more accurate.

Haymitch was generally not impulsive, unless alcohol clouded his judgement or blacked out all thought. There had been no alcohol the night before — on the eve of Effie’s 40th birthday, sobriety was part of their deal. And the whole thing was argueably the best sex he’d ever had with her or anyone else. Not that anyone was arguing the point.

Except something nagged at him — an impulse half-remembered, not because he’d been drunk, but because it had been hers — her impulse... maybe. And only as the sun came up did he give it thought.

“Don’t pull out...”

Her words turned over in his mind, belatedly.

During the night, the sheets had slipped to his side of the bed. If she woke just then, she’d accuse him of stealing the covers, which he likely did, since his sleep was fitful. A lock of hair coiled above her collarbone. He wasn’t sure how the ringlet stayed, given how many times he’d raked his fingers through her hair, pulled at it, dove inside it with that part of him that was into her far beyond the reach of his body.

He traced the curl with a fingertip then glanced down her breasts to her belly. Over a year ago there had been a baby there, for a while. He usually tried not to think about it. But the memory of its heartbeat nagged that morning along with the rest of Effie’s words.

“...Come inside me. It’ll be okay... It’ll be incredible.”

He didn’t hesitate. After pulling out all those months, staying in and feeling her clench around him as he spilled inside her had been so intoxicating that he didn’t even drink afterwards.

Before the pregnancy, Effie was fastidious about birth control. She set timers and took pills at precisely the same minute every day. After the miscarriage, she needed time to decide what to do since the pharmaceuticals had failed. And she felt like her body had failed.

Was she using something new? Did she get a shot or an implant? She hadn’t told him. Why hadn’t she told him?? Why hadn’t he asked her as she clutched his hips and reassured him and kept him in when he would have pulled out. Damn... just thinking about it made him want her exactly like that again.

He was planning to eat her out with breakfast. There was whipped cream in the fridge, and strawberries. He’d bought champagne, which she preferred to hard liquor. He’d drink it from the hollow of her stomach and let her do whatever she wanted to him, within reason. His girl would not be happy waking up 40, but he was planning to make her happy.

His thoughts mulled hot like spiced cider. And his mind wouldn’t let go of uncertainty or the memory of the heartbeat...gone. He didn’t want to go through that shit again.

He slid the covers over her, tucked the curl behind her ear, and waited impatiently for her to wake up.

***

Even with the curtains closed, the sun tormented Effie with reality. In that moment, 40 was the last thing she wanted to be. She rolled away from the window, pulled a blanket over her eyes, and tried falling back to sleep to no avail. She sighed in resignation.

Beneath the sheet, Haymitch caressed along the curve of her hip. His thoughts and emotions which had been rolling earlier were holding steady at the surface. This was her birthday. How long should he let her wake up before asking what he wanted to know?

She dropped the blanket from her eyes and opened them. As he stared into her, there was nothing playful about his expression, just unmistakable intensity. The feeling of a luminous bubble expanded in her chest and stretched along her midline to the juncture of her thighs.

She reached out and held his face in her palm. His jaw was still smooth with just a hint of stubble. She brushed her fingertips in the direction she knew the hair would grow. The familiar act flooded her with sensations of the night before, and she wanted his mouth on her.

She inched closer and nestled against him. Her lips plucked his once, and then again, sliding the tip of her tongue along the seam of his lips. He opened as she expected, and he sucked her in all at once. His teeth caught her lip, and the sting brought her nails digging into his back.

He groaned along her tongue as their bodies brushed, seeking a fit to burst the bubble, which he was feeling now too. Intensity built quickly. He had something to ask, but there wasn’t space now between them for thinking, just feeling.

She drew her leg up along his side, and she opened. He clutched her hips and slipped in slowly, but slow wasn’t enough — like when horses turn home, anticipating oats and cubes of sugar.

She pressed her calf to his ass, urging. A thrill rushed through her as he sank into the sweetest spot. “I’m gonna come fast, honey.” She let go of his mouth in order to say so. “I can feel it.”

His toes curled in the words. He was snug inside her, and she was so wet already. “Fuck, Effie. We just started.”

“I know.” She met him with upward thrusts, letting go of restraint and taking control in turn, drawing out her own pleasure. “Look at me.”

He met her gaze again and held it. Her fervor was catching. He gritted his teeth and matched her pace, holding back when she slowed. Then pushing home like the horses.

“It’s so much,” she spoke of the feeling between them. Her nails played up his spine to the nape of his neck, then along his scalp. His shiver was a harbinger of what was coming. “It’s so much, Haymitch.”

His confession was quiet, tucked somewhere in between guttural sounds and a calloused thumb stroking her breast. “It’s everything.”

The admission, the gentle roughness, the flood of emotion lit her up. “Ohh, I can’t stop it.”

“Jesus. Why would you wanna stop it?” He said it to himself as much as to her.

Luminosity exploded. Her body quaked, milking the length of him. The force of creation swelled. For a moment she was the whole world — his girl. The whole goddamn world. He climaxed inside her without asking the question, without saying another word beyond their cries of pleasure and release. They broke open, glistening.

When her shaking stopped, there were tears on her cheeks. Her leg flopped back onto the bed. “Damn...” she whispered, “I’d be willing to turn 40 every day if each one can start like this.”

He wanted to linger inside her and kiss her tears and tell her how glad he was that she’d been born exactly WHEN she was so she could be exactly WHO she was — somebody who made him feel things he never thought he’d be feeling.

But the nagging uncertainty which had been holding steady on the surface boiled over, and he said none of that. Irritation crept into his voice.

“Damn it. You’re a fucking Siren.” His shift in tone was clear.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That depends.” He looked into her eyes once more, assessing her critically. Then he rolled out of her before he’d fully softened.

“On what?” She turned to face him.

“What birth control are you using now?”

She hesitated. “It’s called being 40.”

“What?”

“I’m old now.”

His face was blank. “40 isn’t old, and it sure ain’t birth control.”

“Withdrawal isn’t 100% effective, and you’ve been doing that for a year with no babies.”

Haymitch sat up, trying to figure out what was happening. “Me pulling out is a hell of a lot more effective birth control than you being 40!”

She draped her arm across her eyes. Saying the truth was uncomfortable, especially with him upset. “My eggs are mummified.”

“Overnight?! You were on your period last week for christ sake! Your drama is gonna get us pregnant again. Is that what you want?!”

Everything got quiet. She uncovered her eyes and dropped her arm to her stomach. “You said ‘us.’ Why talk about US getting pregnant when it’s never going to happen?”

“It ALREADY happened, not even two years ago. And right now there are millions, maybe hundreds of millions, of my guys swimming inside you. It just takes one *non-mummified* egg, and we’re back where we were a year and a half ago. Is that where you want to be?!”

She paused before answering. The delay was long. Way too long, he thought. Her thumb caressed her stomach, just once, but he noticed.

“Effie, do you want a baby?!”

“...I don’t know. ...Maybe. I don’t know!”

“Maybe!? You don’t know!? Well, you might have just gotten one, and I didn’t even get a say!”

He was inches from her in their bed, and he wasn’t touching her. He was scowling as if she’d stabbed him in the back with his own knife.

“I didn’t force you to be with me just now — or last night! ‘IT’S EVERYTHING,’ you said. You JUST said that! What happened to THAT?”

“‘Don’t pull out,’ you said! ‘Come inside me,’ you said! ‘It’ll be okay — It’ll be INCREDIBLE,’ you said!!”

“It WAS incredible! Sex is always good between us but never quite like that. And it’s not because you shaved, or I waxed or I wore that awful pleated skirt. It’s something more. I felt it last night and again just now. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it too because I KNOW you did!”

He leaped out of bed and stood naked in the middle of the room, fuming at her. Every muscle in his body was rigid. She wanted to touch him and soothe him and make him understand.

“Why do you have to be like this and ruin everything?!”

“You tricked me.”

“I did NOT! When have I EVER been deceitful?! You’re being unfair.”

He stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

As the water ran in the shower, Effie stayed in bed. Only when the room was quiet did she realize what she’d been doing. While they’d argued, she was clenching her pelvic floor, holding in those millions of sperm he’d mentioned. If I’m certain that I’m too old to have a baby, and if I don’t even know whether or not I would want to have one, then why am I doing this??

The only answers she could think of were that just maybe she wasn’t too old, and just maybe she knew more than she’d realized. Everything was jumbled, and she didn’t want to let go.

When Haymitch stepped out of the bathroom, he dressed in stony silence.

“We need to talk about this,” she said.

There were fresh tears on her cheeks, but they barely phased him. “I feel suffocated. I’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Fine. Walk away...” As he did, she tried to sound angry. “Walking away is what you always do!”

She steeled herself against the sound she knew was coming. When she heard the front door slam, she told herself, “At the end of the day, it’s my bed he’s crawling back into!” She tried to sound confident, but her voice wavered. Because she wasn’t confident — and she wasn’t angry. Not really.

She was confused, and she was sad. She was 40 — and so goddamn sad.

***

Getting out of the house wasn’t enough. Haymitch wanted out of his feelings, out of his thoughts, out of his body. Walking away wasn’t enough, so he ran — at least fifty yards, veering off the road through a field, thick with grasses and aging saplings. He steered clear of scattered houses and the voices of people. People were just waiting to screw him over and slit his throat. Oats and cubes of sugar were a fucking fantasy. He was running toward nothing, chasing his own breath.

When he couldn’t catch it, he stopped and reached into his coat for his flask. It wasn’t there. Shit. At least coins jingled in his pockets. He gathered them up, and counted out enough to buy a bottle. He set off again in the direction of the Hob, walking now since he’d lost steam for anything else. He’d have to face people after all.

The building was uncrowded for mid morning. Fragrances of food and coffee made his stomach protest its emptiness. He bought a bottle of whiskey and had enough cash left on him for a bowl of soup.

“Mornin’, boy,” Greasy Sae greeted him in the usual way, “You’re showin’ up here mighty early.” She glanced at the bottle tucked in the crook of his elbow. “You pickin’ up supplies for the party?”

Fuck. He’d forgotten. Peeta was hosting a surprise that afternoon, baking a big cake and everything for Effie. Haymitch had no idea who all had been invited. Damn near everyone in 12 knew her now, outgoing as she was. Hopefully Katniss had reined in the boy’s generosity, and they’d keep the gathering small. Though Haymitch didn’t want to deal with any of that shit now.

“Can I get you a cup of beef soup?” Sae asked when he hadn’t responded, “Just made it fresh this mornin’ with the real thing.”

“The party. Right...” he answered late.

Peeta had asked him to come up with some excuse to get Effie to their place early in the afternoon. ...I just heard the kids talking about curtains, maybe you should go over and help them out... Something like that ought to do. Until the fight that morning, he’d been looking forward to spending time with them. He’d been looking forward to everything.

“...Soup would be fine,” he answered after Sae had already ladeled some into an oversized cup.

“How’s that girl of yours?” She filled the silence as Haymitch counted out change. “Turnin’ 40 can be tough for a woman. We tend to feel age differently before we’ve got kids. Once there’s kids, we ain’t got time to feel old. Take a moment to even breathe, and they’ll run right over you.” She handed him the soup. “I know she lost one, and losin’ ‘em hurts. It’s real hard to lose your first. But I got hope for you.”

As he stood there with the cup warming his hands, facing Sae’s crinkled brown eyes and thin smile, he felt Effie’s words filling his gut... Why do you have to be like this and ruin everything?! The thought stole his appetite, but he drank the soup anyway in three gulps and handed the cup back to her. The food calmed his stomach. “Guess I was hungrier than I felt.”

“Feelin’s can fool us. A body can get so used to emptiness that we start feelin’ full from it. But emptiness ain’t gonna nourish you. ...Now, I got customers waitin’. Tell Effie I’m wishin’ her a happy birthday.”

“I’ll do that,” Haymitch said out of habit. He was going to have to talk to Effie eventually, but he wasn’t ready.

He left the Hob feeling like a hypocrite. He’d accused her of tricking him when he was all too eager to finish off sex inside her with nothing in between them — so eager he’d done it twice. And, damn it, he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to do it again.

He cracked open the bottle and tried to chase away regret about what he’d said to her. He followed the gravel road deeper into what used to be the Seam. Long ago it was home, but home changes. The only things that tied him to that stretch of land were memories and wounds long sealed by scars.

His open wounds were elsewhere now, like home was. Swallows of whiskey wrapped the wounds in a layer of gauze. He could think and feel through it, but the thoughts and feelings were hazy, like the mist that covers the meadow in the morning before it’s touched by the sun.

Ghosts of a sort came out of the mist and murmured their stories. He wasn’t sober enough to tell the voices to fuck off, and he wasn’t drunk enough to not hear them. So he listened through the haze, walking without a destination in mind.

***

The first voice — longing — came from the seashore. Skipping rocks and building sandcastles with Annie’s boy had flipped a switch in him. The kid had been his shadow. At the week’s end, the little guy reluctantly said goodbye with a bear hug and a sloppy kiss on Haymitch’s cheek. What might have been if Effie’s baby had lived and become a child? Their child. It would have been something in between a giant pain in the ass and a love big enough to eat him alive.

I’d be a fool to consider bringing a kid into this fucked up world on purpose, the second voice — reason — said. He was an alcoholic who drank to stay alive. He believed he had no business being anybody’s father. And Effie nearly had a seizure every time she stepped in a pile of goose shit. Babies crap all the time, and they puke all over the place. And sleep?... Forget about doing it because they don’t.

And sometimes they die. A third voice — grief — lamented. They fucking die, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.

That fateful morning last year when Effie was losing the baby, she’d roused him from sleep. The chill in her voice tugged his heart into his stomach. “Haymitch, something is VERY wrong.” Cramping had come on in her back and abdomen, and she was bleeding.

Adrenaline rushed to his limbs as if he was in the arena. He’d gone to call for the doctor, and when he returned, Effie was sitting in the dry bathtub, still in her nightie. A steady stream of blood trickled down the drain, and she was holding something reddish purple in the palm of her hand. It was the baby — no bigger than an apple. ...Its name had been pulled from the Reaping Ball before it even had a name.

“I’m sorry,” she kept telling the tiny thing. “I’m so sorry...” She looked at Haymitch as he wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and chest. Her eyes held no tears.

He wasn’t thinking about the baby just then. He was scared out of his mind about losing Effie. “The doc will be here real soon.” It was all he could say as he sat on the edge of the tub, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair. He must have said it as many times as she said “I’m sorry.”

The doctor’s arrival, exam, and treatment were all a blur.

“I know it seems like a lot of blood,” the doc said later, “But there are no signs of hemorrhaging or uterine abnormalities. I was able to remove the placenta. A miscarriage happens more rarely at this stage, but it’s not uncommon. I’m sorry, Effie — Haymitch. ...She appears to be developmentally normal for 15 weeks gestation. I wish could offer an explanation. Sometimes these things just happen. A miscarriage doesn’t necessarily negatively affect subsequent pregnancies. It may take several weeks to recover. When you feel ready, you can try again.”

“We weren’t trying.” Haymitch wasn’t sure why he’d felt the need to clarify.

“She?” Effie had heard the doctor say it, even if she took in nothing else. She had only let go of the baby long enough for the doc to examine it. Otherwise she held it against her chest.

“Gender can be difficult to determine this early, but the signs indicate a girl. An autopsy could confirm, and it might show the cause of the miscarriage. If you’d like—“

“No,” Effie insisted, “I can’t let you take her and cut her open. She’ll be staying here.”

That afternoon Haymitch dug a grave under the maple tree in the backyard. He made it a full six feet deep so the scavengers wouldn’t find her and pick her apart.

Effie wrapped the baby in a small blanket along with her umbilical cord and the pieces of placenta and laid her in a jewelry box. “She’s used to being inside me. She’d be cold in the ground without a blanket.”

The words had been madness. If he’d let himself think about it like that, then he wouldn’t have gotten through it. One of them had to stay sane. Burying the tiny girl was his first and last act of care for her. Shoveling all that dirt over her was like burying an axe in his gut.

I refuse to go through that shit again, the fourth voice spoke in a convergence — anger and fear. It had been the one yelling earlier, as he took the discomfort of his wounds out on Effie. Thinking about the baby was too much, and his body wasn’t even the one she’d lived inside all those weeks. ...Effie’s was.

His feet turned him around, and he headed back up the road. This time he knew where he was going.

***

At home in the yard, the geese barked at him about leaving them to forage for their own breakfasts. The grass was sparse due to lack of attention. Not wanting their hunger to be something else on his conscience, he scooped wheat into their water buckets and pellets into their feed bowls. As they ate, they quieted down and left him alone, which was just fine by him. He liked most of them better at a distance.

Grass didn’t grow under the maple tree. A dense network of roots kept other plants from taking hold. He’d dug through six feet of those roots, and he pictured them growing back now around the jewelry box. The little coffin wouldn’t drift underground whenever the rains came. The tree would hold it in place.

He sat with his back against the tree and took another drink of whiskey — just enough to try to restore the haze which had worn off, leaving him raw again. Mist filled his eyes. The memories coming up were vivid and close. He wiped his nose on his sleeve. He hadn’t cried about anything in so long that he’d forgotten the way tears clog a person’s head before slipping out. They slid down the back of his throat until he’d swallowed so many that he thought he might throw up.

Effie found him there. She shuffled her feet as she approached so she wouldn’t startle him. She sat on the ground, cross legged with her hands in her lap. In the moment, she didn’t care if the soil stained her skirt. In all the years she’d known Haymitch, she’d never seen him cry. She ached to touch him, but she was afraid he’d pull away, so she didn’t reach. He didn’t look at her, but he didn’t tell her to leave, and he didn’t leave either.

Long minutes passed before either of them spoke. In the silence, Effie was uneasy, but at least she wasn’t alone. He was right beside her. The geese wandered the grass, and a breeze was blowing through the maple leaves. The leaves brushed against each other, whispering things she could only imagine.

“We need to talk.” Choked up and hoarse, Haymitch sounded like a stranger.

“Yes, we do.”

He looked at her with swollen eyes. Hers were more pink than white. He was beating himself up inside for making her cry about this, especially today. “I don’t wanna fight,” he said. The battle raging between the voices in his head was all he could handle.

“I don’t want us to fight either. ...Not here. Not about this.” She glanced at the the baby’s grave. “I had no intention of tricking you about anything, especially this.”

“I know.” His swift acknowledgement surprised her. He reached for her hand and interlaced their fingers in her lap. “I didn’t mean to ruin your day.”

She held his hand as a lifeline. “It isn’t ruined.” She paused before saying it in order to keep from crying again.

“It’s not what I planned.”

“Things don’t always turn out the way we plan.” She hesitated before saying more. “...For a short time after I lost the baby, my breasts made milk. Did I ever tell you that?”

“I don’t think I was hearing much then.” He looked at her breasts, wondering what other details she’d faced alone. “I remember tracing veins there that I hadn’t seen before. ...Sometimes I watched your stomach while you were sleeping.” Sometimes I still do, he didn’t say.

“I never got to feel the baby moving inside me. She was always too small to feel. ...She had the prettiest hands. Long fingers for playing piano. Do you remember?”

He shook his head. He couldn’t remember her hands. He leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. “I’m mixed up, Effie.”

She scooted closer and laid her head on his shoulder. “Oh, honey, I am too.”

He caressed her thumb with his, and she watched the maple leaves cast shadows over their entwined fingers.

***

Eventually the geese wandered over, honking for more handouts.

“Give them an inch, and they want a yard.”

“If they had an actual yard, they probably wouldn’t be so demanding.”

“Suddenly you’re the goose whisperer?”

“‘Goose’ and ‘whisper’ do not belong in the same sentence.”

“I’ll give you that.” He pulled her to her feet, and they went in the house.

Despite the bit of teasing, the solemn mood followed them inside. There was much more to say, but they were both saturated.

“Listen,” he told her, “I don’t know if you want to hear this, but in about an hour I’m supposed to tell you that the kids are talking about getting new curtains and maybe you ought to go over and help them out.”

“Is that the secret code for my surprise party?”

“Peeta is trying to be subtle.”

“That dear boy is anything but subtle. This morning he was decorating a two-tiered cake with the blinds open. They actually COULD use some curtains.”

“If you’re not up for the party, I’ll have them call it off. Peeta might have invited half the town. I don’t know.”

“Be with me awhile. Then I’ll be okay to go.”

Haymitch was unsettled by the realization that being with her ‘awhile’ might never again be enough. Having witnessed so much death, ‘forever’ had always been a subjective and fairly meaningless concept. But it was starting to feel like something other than an endless train of horror. It felt precious and terrifying in a different way.

Effie stepped into his arms as he opened them. He needed to be held as badly as he needed to be holding her. Needing somebody other than himself was dangerous. He was uneasy with it, but he didn’t let go.

“Are you hungry?” He spoke softly against her temple. “I screwed up what I had planned for you for breakfast. I wanted to make you — happy.”

“I ate a little. Maybe we can have your breakfast for dinner?”

Sex was a touchy subject just then, but he wasn’t going to tiptoe around it. “It was gonna be breakfast in bed, using our bodies as plates and glasses. ...Are you still interested?”

“That depends. Will I get to make you — happy — too?”

If he thought too much about her sucking whipped cream off his dick, then they’d never make it to the party. “It’s your birthday, sweetheart. You make the wishes. I wouldn’t turn down that offer.”

At the end of the day, it’s my bed he’s crawling back into. The understanding was as comforting as his arms around her. She didn’t know what ‘everything’ would be, but whatever it might be, she wanted it with him.

#hayffie #hayffie fanfiction #effie x haymitch #haymitch x effie #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #thg #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #hunger games #post-revolution #district 12 #geese #greasy sae #hayffie baby #the deal #Effie turns 40 #midlife #HayffieFics

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whathappensnexts-blog · 3 years

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Chapter 1, part 1 of 2.

***Warning. In this story there is use of drugs. This was written purely for entertainment purposes and all and any use of drugs is highly discouraged. ***

We were chilling in the park when we got a message on our phones. “Where are you? Come here now.” The others have gone to a party in which me and Finn had no interest in participating. We just wanted to hung out in a quiet place and smoke some grass. Little did we know that our peace was about to be shattered. “Hey the others are leaving and they want us to meet them. Shall we?” I said in an uninterested tone. “Why not? Maybe we can chill together” he replied in the same manner. We passed by the beach in which less than a week ago we had eaten acid.

There we were me, Finn and Tom a guy we knew that also wanted to try some LSD. That bastard had invited a whole bunch of people to watch us trip. I didn’t like it but I didn’t let it get under my skin either. The thing with acid is to not get nervous. Otherwise you are risking a psychotic meltdown from which you may never return. I’ve seen it happening. It actually happened to Finn that night.

It went down like this. Forty minutes after we ate the tab, we thought that it wasn’t working. Then when I turned around my head, I saw with my peripheral vision a pink-green-gray shadow at the side of some buildings in the distance. Where they real or not? We couldn’t decide. A few minutes later on Tom was laughing and saying “Dude…I don’t know…man…” Finn had curiosity painted all over his face. He was trying to understand whether or not what he was feeling was real. I felt everything getting more mellow. It seemed like everything was breathing, even empty space. Everything had an inner gentle movement, like the movement of a calm sea. I remember smiling to Finn. “Oh my God…You are shining!” he said. Yeah.

We were well under the influence now. Me, Finn and another two guys stood up and we started going towards a public stage a few meters next to us. The games of light and shadow made the sand under our feet seem like a sea of human skulls. Not in a frightening way though. There was no fear at all. Let it happen. Don’t fight it. Go through it. Don’t take it seriously. Tom shouted at us. He came closer. I didn’t understand what he said and to whom. I only knew that he wasn’t talking to me so I didn’t really care. As he turned to leave and go back with the others it was like time and space warped around him. In just two steps he had covered an impossible distance. How could this happen? Never mind that now. We turned around to the opposite direction and headed to the stage. It was late and there were no other people. The street lights made everything appear golden. The stage was inviting us to sit there right under the golden light, elevated two inches above time and space. We rolled a joint. Someone did at least.

After a while we headed back to the others. Two new people had arrived. That idiot Tom called two more idiots. We were fine with the rest but these two did not fit with us. They needed to go. They lingered on for a needlessly long time. The conversation was going in circles. Damn. They knew we were on acid and they were saying something about how well they knew psychedelics. They had this look on their faces so common in people nowadays. The look of confident know-it-alls, so certain that they were much better than you without even caring to evaluate you. No politeness in these people. They didn’t even seem familiar with the concept that someone might be better than them at least in one aspect. Ridiculous. They had this confident look in their faces but I could clearly see that behind their eyes there was nothing but rocks. Not dirt to be cultivated, to accept and nurture and give birth to new things. Just rocks. Try forming a bit more complicated sentences and they’ll look you like an alien. What a terrible way to live.

I offered them some weed and, in a bit, they were gone. Finn had gone paranoid after that pointless, looping conversation. He was pacing nervously up and down, with his fist on his chin and looking down towards the floor. Every five minutes he would look at us and say “Did you hear me? Was I talking right now?” He wasn’t. poor man he was on bad trip now. He wanted to return home. One friend of us escorted him back to his place.

We were sitting behind the stage now, me, Tom, another guy and two girls. I liked the one with the long, curly golden hair. She had smoked a ton of weed and she looked like a flower girl from the sixties. She made me feel like a hippie. The other girl was a redhead and she was completely drunk on the cheapest red wine possible. She was in a worse condition than us. I was actually beginning to sober up. She was climbing and jumping and dancing on benches. She lost her balance once or twice. Jesus. Here I was on acid and supposedly in need of supervision and now it was me who had to do the supervising. Good responsible people.

The other two guys had left for a while and left me alone with the girls. I don’t remember what we were saying but I knew the redhead was talking nonsense. Drunk dreamy bubbly nonsense which I accidentally destroyed. Why did I have to talk? Why not let her bubble on? Maybe because I was a bit bummed the others left me.

When the others returned and we entered the car she started sobbing. Poor girl. I felt bad. She had taken what I said too seriously or I took what she said too lightly. She was also surely affected by the wine and at this point probably her stomach as well. Cheap wine is not good for the organs. We arrived at McDonald’s and then we went to eat by a church. We thought now that the acid had completely worn off. Although a cat was looking at as strangely.

A bit later the others left. Now it was me and Tom. It was around 5 o’clock in the morning. We headed back to the beach, to the rear end of the stage. We sat down and we looked at the sky. And then it hit us. A last punch from the acid hit us right in the face. The street lights where now turned off. The sky had a deep dark emerald green color. The clouds looked alive and I could feel the distance between me and them and them and the sky. I could understand the empty space behind them. It was like I was looking at the sky through crystal clear water. The stars were connected with each other with a thin shiny silver-blue thread, like a spider’s web. And the moon looked like a hole, a light at the end of a tunnel, an exit out of this giant egg that was the celestial sphere and that we were inside it. All of this came together under a big question mark that always seemed to linger on. What happens next?

Some old people started coming out of the sea. We hadn’t noticed them going in and the sun had not shone his first rays on this land yet. It was darkness all around, in the end of October and these really old people where coming out of the sea. We weren’t sure if they were real. I think they were. Good for them. “What is this the zombie apocalypse? Let’s get out of here.” They were the first unfamiliar faces we’ve seen in quite some hours now. We went to take a ride with the first morning tram. It was around six o’clock now.

As we were on the station to take the tram, another old man approached us. He started talking to us. He was a fisherman and he was talking about fisherman gangs and good spots to fish. He had crazy eyes though he did not appear crazy overall. He was coherent. But I had the feeling that his mind was not completely his own. But then again whose is? The fact that people agree on one kind of madness doesn’t make them less mad.

At that time, we decided to call Finn. Poor man he hadn’t slept a bit. How could he? The shadows of his room appeared to be demons. No, he needed to be with us now. So, we met a few stations later on the wave breaker. It was morning now the sun was rising and the sky was… the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. I am unable to convey the filling of the colors I saw. I am not sure they were totally real. The majority of the sky was yellow. A bright, strong, vibrant, rich yellow, the yellowest and truest yellow you could ever imagine. It was like the heart of the sun, the heart of honesty. A very strong color, gentle but with unmistakable authority, the color of the sun god. Around it some gentle pinks and oranges very alive as well. It was like the night has just opened her eyes and was slowly becoming a bright new day.

#writing #story #gonzo journalism #young writers #adventure #literature

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seriouslyhooked · 4 years

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Feels Like This (Part 8)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So I was writing this chapter before and during the angst of posting the parade chapter, and I want to just say, that while I knew many of you would be stressed, I imagined this chapter (and chapter 7) as a healing remedy. This is filled with first date fluff and cuteness and also some more needed disclosures between Killian and Emma. it represents a real beginning, and hopefully you’ll all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Anyway, without further ado, here goes!

Okay, Emma, don’t panic. It’s just Killian. You like Killian. Actually, you really like Killian. And yes, he might be a prince, but that doesn’t have to mean so much when you think about it. A date is a date. Sure you haven’t been on one in years, and certainly not with a man you actually cared about. But it’s fine. It’s so fine. You got this. It’s not like he’s taking you to the palace for the date. Oh Jesus, he’s not taking me to the palace is he? I know he said he wasn’t but –

“I can practically hear you overthinking things through the door, Emma. Cut it out!” Anna scolded with her ever present affection laced into the sharp words. The censure snapped Emma’s focus back into the moment and reminded her that time was ticking, and she had others waiting on her. “Now come on, we want to see your dress, don’t we Henry?”

“Yeah, Mom. Open up!”

Anna and Henry’s headed back down the hall, and Emma heard their footsteps loudly thumping in a purposefully dramatic way. They hadn’t even waited for her reply, they just commanded her to get a move on. Emma smiled at their antics, despite her flurry of nerves, and looked back to the mirror one last time. She smoothed out the lines of the delicate dress she’d chosen for tonight, recalling Killian’s promise that they would have complete privacy and no expectations. With that assurance, she went with something pretty and yet still comfortable. Her chosen sun dress reflected the seasonal heat they’d been experiencing, but the pretty pink color was not her usual choice. It was different, but it felt special, and as she’d been choosing from the hordes of outfits Anna and Elsa offered when they arrived, Emma couldn’t help remembering Cecelia’s words at the center’s picnic. She’d said pink was for princesses, and though Emma by no means thought herself a princess, she wanted to feel a bit surer of herself in a not so normal situation.

“All right, I’m coming out,” Emma announced, swinging the door open and heading out for the big reveal.

Elsa, Anna and Henry were all gathered by the television, plotting out their movies to watch and snacks to consume while she and Killian went out for the night. Emma was so grateful to have new people in her life who would give up their one night off from work to help her care for her son, but when she tried to thank them, Elsa and Anna waved off her gratitude as unnecessary. Already they considered her a ‘dear friend’ and they were thrilled to spend more time with Henry. Henry was equally excited, but when he knew this was happening so Emma and Killian could go out, that excitement was compounded. He’d loved every minute they spent with Killian yesterday, and he’d reaffirmed that all day long. Henry had also been very clear of his approval and his want for Emma to give this a real chance.

When she came into view of her friends and her son, Emma felt a bit of lingering uncertainty, but it faded in the sight of everyone’s reactions. Elsa and Anna were so expressive, both of them clapping and smiling immediately.

“Oh, it’s perfect, Emma, just perfect,” Elsa said happily while Anna gave her own assessment.

“I really thought you should go with something more formal, but you were so right. This is the one.”

Emma smiled at the thought and looked to Henry. The softness of his expression made her throat tighten unexpectedly, and in seconds she was ready to cry. He looked so sweet and filled with adoration, and then he said the most beautiful words that always made a mother truly happy. “You look beautiful, Mom.”

“Thanks, kid,” she said, gesturing for him to come over. He ran to her, giving her a big hug that made her teeter slightly on her wedged shoes. She held on tight though, cherishing this love from her son and taking strength from his love for her. “You sure it’s really ok?”

“Killian’s not going to know what hit him,” Henry agreed with a grin. Then that smile faltered and Emma grew worried.

“Everything okay, Henry?” her son nodded.

“Yeah, Mom. Everything is great. You know I like Killian. He was so cool yesterday, and he makes you happy. I saw that.”

Emma couldn’t disagree. Even with all the unknowns and the questions and the hurt yesterday she had been happy. Spending time with Killian and Henry together had been easy and fun. It felt natural, and she’d loved that. It scared her, but she wanted it, and that was part of the reason she’d chosen to forgive Killian and still try despite everything that happened. Still, she felt there was something Henry wasn’t saying, and she waited her son out to see if he’d tell the full truth.

“You deserve this, Mom. I know you’re nervous still, about getting back out there after what happened with my Dad,” her heart stopped. They rarely ever talked about Neal, but when they did Emma always worried. Her priority was Henry and she never wanted him to feel like he was missing something. But in this moment, Henry quickly put those worries to rest. “But this is different. Killian is not like that.”

“You seem pretty sure about that,” Emma said, trying for lightness in tone, but not quite getting there.

“I am sure. You always told me to follow my gut, and my gut says that Killian is good for you. Good for us. Don’t you think?”

“I think…” Emma said, weighing her words carefully. Because yes, she did think that might be the case, but it was still very early on in whatever this relationship was, and she didn’t want to build up hopes too high for her or her son. “I think that I am excited for this date. So, what does that tell you?”

Henry grinned. He looked poised to say more but then a knock sounded at the door. Emma’s stomach flipped in anticipation and all the butterflies came back full force. Oh god he was here. This was actually happening.

“Look at that,” Anna said gleefully, gesturing to her watch. “He’s three whole minutes early. Someone’s certainly eager.”

“Anna,” Elsa said, chastising her sister, but only in jest. Elsa then came to stand and took Emma’s hands as a means of reassuring her. “You got this Emma. You can be totally certain we’ve got things handled here. Your only job is to go and have a marvelous time, okay?”

“And then report back all the details to us later,” Anna said. Elsa rolled her eyes, which made Emma laugh in spite of her anxiety, and then smiled.

“Any and all detail sharing is up to you.”

“Thank you. Both of you,” Emma said to Elsa and Anna. “Now Henry, you be good, okay?”

“You got it, dude,” he said sticking his thumbs up and quoting a show from her childhood that he’d taken to as a kid when it was on constant reruns. She laughed again, and allowed that laughter to carry her to the door. She didn’t give herself a chance to second guess, she just went for it, and then she saw Killian on the other side and she was spellbound, caught in a web of how handsome he looked.

“Emma.”

His voice sounded out in a deep rumble, gruff with feeling as his eyes took her in. She barely noticed though, distracted as she was by his outfit. Damn, it should not be legal for a man to be that hot. He was that perfect mix of formal and casual, and she momentarily forgot her audience. In fact, she forgot about everything except Killian, and by the time her eyes met his again, he was smiling this sinful smirk that lit her up inside. Crap, he’d caught her ogling him, but when he stepped towards her and filled the air around her with the scent of him she was lost again. She wanted to melt into him right now, but he held back, teasing her but never quite following through.

“I’ve no intention of waiting to the end of the evening to taste you, love,” he whispered, low enough that only she would hear. “But at the present moment we’ve got an audience, and I won’t put you through that.”

Emma nodded, thinking he meant Henry, Anna and Elsa but then she looked over his shoulder and saw the detail he’d had to bring. She blushed at the fact that she’d forgotten herself, but Killian didn’t give her any time to linger in that. Instead he took her hand in his gently. She assumed they’d leave straight away, but he surprised her by asking how Henry was.

“He’s great actually. Elsa and Anna are already spoiling him and I haven’t even left yet,” she said and Killian’s amusement was so genuine it touched her heart. “Do you want to say hi before we go?”

“I would love that,” he confessed and Emma brought him inside, realizing too late that this could be the equivalent of bringing him to the Spanish Inquisition. Her kid already asked a lot of questions, but with Elsa and Anna here, there was simply no way of knowing what would be asked or said. As if he could sense her worry, he squeezed her hand lightly and pressed a reassuring kiss to the top just before they came into view of the others.

“Hey, Killian! I didn’t know you were coming in. I hoped you might, but then Anna said people on dates get all heart eyes and stuff, whatever that means, and maybe you might forget.”

“Couldn’t possibly forget you, lad. Not when you introduced me to the world’s best pizza.”

Henry’s smile at that and his easy hop up from the couch to slap Killian’s hand had Emma absentmindedly rubbing at her heart. She watched the two of them catching up on the day, and also saw how easy Killian was with Anna and Elsa. Both of them lobbed a few sassier questions or comments his way, but he handled it all with grace, and every time he looked back at Emma, which was often, he had a smile on his face, like he was genuinely glad to be here, jumping through all these hoops.

Finally, after a a little visit with all of them, Killian made their excuses, while still keeping their end destination a secret. He offered Emma his hand once more and she took it, following him as he lead her out her front door and to the car. With sure and steady movements, he handed her inside carefully, acting every bit the gentleman. He then came around to the driver’s side and only when they were off and driving did she realize how not normal this must be.

“So what did you have to do to convince Jefferson to let you drive?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Killian said honestly before flashing her a smile. “He’s a smart man. He knows a losing battle when he sees one, and any iteration of this date where I sacrifice alone time with you is definitely a losing battle.”

Emma loved that he’d made this clear, and through the rest of the ride they talked and fell into an easy pattern together. It wasn’t long before they’d reached their destination though and Emma gawked when they pulled up to the magnificent, high, wrought iron gate.

“I thought you said we weren’t going to the palace,” she said, stunned at the size of this place. From the outside it looked like a castle, at least to someone who’d only ever lived in cramped apartments (at best) her whole life.

“This isn’t the palace. It’s another of my family’s estates. Actually, if you want to get technical, it’s mine.”

“Yours,” she said, dumbfounded, but entranced as they were let through and she looked at the stone façade. It was beautifully crafted, and maybe it was smaller than a palace might be, but it was a gorgeous home on a sprawling bit of perfectly manicured land. In a word it was intimidating, but she couldn’t deny the beauty, or the immediate charm of the place.

“Aye. I haven’t spent much time here though. I’ve always been home with my family when on leave. Historically if I so much as mention leaving, my Gran gets cagey and my mother grows quiet, two things you do not want to happen.”

“Bad signs?” Emma joked, and Killian nodded.

“Most definitely. Now though I don’t anticipate any push back.”

“What’s changed?”

“Everything.”

The way he looked at her when he said that told Emma so much. He was talking about her and about them. She felt a flare of heat and appreciation at his affirmation. Knowing he took this seriously made her happy even if she was still not ready to fully jump in. But it begged the question, did his mother and grandmother know about them? Did his brother? What did they think? Did they approve? All these thoughts ran rampant in her mind until Killian drew her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. Immediately any worries fled and she was just here, with him, in this glorious moment. It felt just as good as she remembered, and she loved the taste of him and the feel of his hard body against hers. Emma never felt more secure or safe than she did in his arms, and she didn’t ever want to draw back. Fear was never on her radar when she kissed this man. She was simply free, free to be herself and to believe in something greater.

“I told you I couldn’t wait for the end of the night,” Killian said, his words a low warble that brushed against her skin when they broke apart. Her eyes opened and she took in his sexy as sin smile and felt her heart skip a beat. Damn this man for being so distracting. He was just so smooth and effortless, but underneath that swagger there was some not so hidden insecurity. He could be this and still be vulnerable with her, and that helped Emma feel like all of this was that much more real.

“Who said you needed to?” she quipped, teasing him with an almost kiss of her own and a soft nip at his lip. He growled and she pulled back, chuckling lightly. “Actually, on second thought, a little waiting never hurt.”

She should not have taken so much pleasure at his groan, but he respected her wishes, taking her hand and leading her inside. His hold on her was sure and strong, and she followed him, intrigued by a place she’d never seen the likes of before. The walkway inside was immaculately gardened. The cobblestone was ancient and even, and the vines along the walls were green and full and bright. There were flowers in the hedgerow, and the glass of all the windows glinted with the remaining sunlight. It was a gorgeous façade, and she was eager to see what beauty lay inside.

Walking into the manor home, Emma was struck by the design and the aura of the place. This home was pristinely kept and yet classic in all ways, but where Emma expected sterile, spacious garishness and overblown luxury, she found none. The mood inside was warm, there was plenty of natural light thanks to all those windows, letting in the dimming summer sun, and historical accents that blended with much more modern fare. Room by room she tried not to gawk at how beautiful it all was. It was wild because it was so different, but there was so much she liked, and so many parts of the house she saw and actually desired. It was a royal getaway but it was still a home, and that was beautiful. Thankfully they did not go on a full tour. That would have been kind of mortifying, and a reminder of how truly different their lives were, but what she did see was stunning. She could imagine Killian here, and for a moment she allowed herself to think if she would like it here and if Henry would too.

But she was getting way ahead of herself. She shook away the thoughts as they entered the kitchen, and once they were inside, she saw the first unkempt part of the house to date. It wasn’t messy, per se, but there were ingredients out and utensils and things for cooking. Actually, it looked like someone had already cooked half of a meal. Some things must be in the fridge, but there was enough on the counters for Emma to be curious. Yet there was no one in the house that she’d seen so far. The staff, Killian informed her, had all been given the night off. The only people on the property were his detail and they were at the gates. This was a secured place so aside from regular rounds, there would be no one walking about, and Killian assured her no one would be in earshot or view of either of them. She looked at Killian quizzically and he explained.

“I thought I might cook you dinner tonight, love, but then I realized, as a relative novice, some parts may take too much time. Between reading the recipes and consulting the videos I found online, it was a rather long process. So, I got what I could done earlier before picking you up. I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

“Killian, you didn’t have to go through all the trouble,” she said shaking her head. No one had ever done anything like this for her. Certainly not someone who had so many other calls on his time and attention.

“It wasn’t any trouble, love. And I hope, when you find out what exactly is on the menu, you’ll be pleased.”

Emma didn’t know what she was expecting him to feed her, but his menu, as he put it, was a mix of elegant refinement and casual things that showed his attentiveness. He had a few courses mapped out, and most were unfamiliar and native to the Montennaran coast, but every one smelled delicious and tasted even better. It was a languid pacing, with Emma offering to help and Killian insisting he could do this. This left her to relax with a glass of some of the best wine she’d ever tasted, and gave the two of them space to talk, all while Emma took in his determination and sheer power of will. He was a beginner in all of this, and some elements took a bit more time because he was new to them, but his carefulness and attention told her so much about him, and all of his patience was well rewarded.

They stopped to share each plate together, and those moments felt especially intimate. They were seated close together, with barely any space between them, sharing each dish and enjoying each other’s company. Of course it was only a matter of time before that closeness got the better of them, but every time Emma thought they’d give in to the crackle of heat between them, Killian would say there was another course left. He’d press a gentle kiss to her cheek or her neck or her lips and be back up cooking once more. Now it was time though for the final course and she was eager to see what he had lined up for dessert.

“So let me guess, this dessert is going to somehow factor in those Montecarri things right?”

“What makes you say that, Swan?” Killian asked, amused at her question, but giving nothing away as he pulled some items from the cabinets. She was so distracted by his smirk she didn’t take stock of what he was gathering.

“Well this has been essentially a culinary tour of this country, and I hear Montecarris are the specialty to end all specialties. Seems fitting to include them.”

“Perhaps it would have been,” Killian hedged, his expression now the tiniest bit unsure. “But I actually had other plans.”

Emma was about to ask what they were when she looked down at the ingredients he’d brought out. Marshmallows, vanilla ice cream, and wait – was that chocolate chip cookie dough? If her eyes did not deceive her, that was chilled dough of a totally American staple, which also happened to be her favorite baked good bar none.

“Okay, I’m intrigued, what are you making?”

“Can’t you tell?” he asked curiously. “It’s your favorite. Well unless I’ve misunderstood.”

Killian explained his intention to bake these cookies and then to move outside to use the outdoor fireplace. He produced two perfect roasting sticks for marshmallows, and suddenly it dawned on her.

“Cookie s’mores,” Emma said in awe. They were her favorite summer treat, and as she looked closer at the dough she could see that there were graham cracker flakes in the mixture. Holy cow, he’d really done his homework for this one. “But how did you know?”

“My first week at the center, you were caught up in the children’s favorite game,” Killian said, alluding to how the kids loved to ask all of the adults about their favorite things. It had apparently been a staple since the older kids watched The Sound of Music. Now all of them loved compiling lists of favorite things as well as a list of things to try and to dream of one day seeing and doing. Thinking back though, Emma couldn’t understand how he would remember something like this. It was weeks ago, and it was such a small moment, but from her handful of words he’d created a road map to something thoughtful and perfect just for her. “You told them about this particular delicacy, and they were fascinated, as they are by damn near everything you say. I’ll admit, I had some trouble sourcing these graham crackers, though. They’re not a staple around here, but a lieutenant of mine from the navy can get anything from anywhere so I called in a favor.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Emma admitted. She found it hard in this moment not to cry, and the reasons for the feeling were all good. She was just a bit overwhelmed at how much he’d really been paying attention and how serious he was about making her happy. And it was working. She felt so good being with him, and for the first time in her life she was scared in a relationship, not because she didn’t want to trust, but because she didn’t want to let go.

“Perhaps you should save any declarations one way or another until after they’re made?” Killian teased and she knew he was looking for a smile, but she couldn’t just stop there. Instead she moved around the counter and pulled him in for a kiss, showing him how much this gesture meant to her in the scheme of an already beautiful night.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered when they came up for air. His eyes were filled with admiration and want, and she could see he was barely holding back, even as his cursed words sounded more like a prayer than anything else. Emma grinned and let out a low laugh as she ran her fingertips along his jaw.

“I think it’s safe to say that I love this, but just in case there was any doubt…” Emma said, and she purposefully left her meaning ambiguous. To him he might think it was just the s’mores she was discussing, but it was actually so much more. She loved being with him, on this date and just in general. She loved this snapshot he’d provided at a perfect quiet moment. And she loved the passion and the hope this man brought forth in her life so often. Despite yesterday’s uncertainty, she felt firmer in herself and in this new relationship than she ever had, and that was thanks to Killian and his kindhearted ways.

“You’ll never know what it means to me to hear that, love,” Killian admitted and she smiled at him once more. “I only hope you like the rest of the evening as much as you’ve enjoyed all this.”

And as they finalized things here in the house to make the rest of their dessert out back, Emma knew that she would enjoy whatever was coming down the pike. Because with Killian at the helm, she could have total faith in what was coming, and that feeling of safety and excitement that had been with her all evening would continue in the best and most wonderful way.

…………………

Sitting beside the outdoor flame, watching Emma laugh in the flickering fire light as she tried not to set her marshmallow ablaze, Killian knew he had never been more at peace.

Tonight was a revelation, just as many of his moments with Emma had been, but this was different. This time, Emma knew he was a Prince, and though he saw her eyes widen at the ostentatious gates and the vastness of this house, she never made him feel different or otherized. It may not be her norm, but there was no judgment from Emma or expectation. She had rallied and clearly chosen to be herself despite all of this, and that allowed him to do the same. It was a remarkable feeling, and a pleasure he never believed he could have as long as he lived here in Montennaro.

For the past few hours, Killian had done his best to memorize each moment. He kept tabs on all of Emma’s words and expressions. She was touched by his cooking for her, and though he was somewhat overwhelmed by all the things that could go wrong, she seemed to have complete faith in him. She also cherished all of their closer moments together, and he felt her wanting and the way it mirrored his own. There was so much brimming underneath the surface, a tantalizing knowledge that their chemistry was bound to combust sooner rather than later, but still he held back, savoring Emma the best way he knew how and trying to treat her to the perfect first date that she deserved. He wanted to carry all these little pieces of this evening with him for the rest of his days, even while dreaming of making a million more memories like this in the weeks and years to come.

Tonight had also solidified his hope for a future with Emma. He had known for some time that that he was in love with her. Interest and infatuation grew surely towards love early on for him, and now he cared for Emma in a way that would outlive his time on this earth. There was no denying how connected he was to her, and how enduring this bond he felt was becoming. She had his heart and his hopes tied so effortlessly around her, he stood no chance at getting either back again. But seeing her here, in his home, and in the place he was expected to build his future, changed something, taking things even further than they’d been before.

For the first time Killian could imagine Emma with him in his world. He could see a path for them to meet in the middle and to carve out a life they both could love. He had duties and responsibilities as Prince, some of which would require Emma’s participation if they continued to be together, but he would fight tooth and nail to give Emma everything she wanted and deserved outside of royal expectation. He couldn’t give her a fully normal existence, but he could give her love, support, and opportunity. He knew she’d want to work with the Institute still, and likely do even more for children all around the country and the world and he’d see to it that she could. He’d move mountains for her to help her feel fulfilled, because all he needed to feel that way was her. She was his home and his purpose, first date or not, and he prayed that someday she could see a home with him here. If not, he didn’t know what he’d do. All he knew was that living without her was not an option.

“You’re making that face again,” Emma said and Killian looked to her, grounding himself in the feeling of his hands on her lithe form as she turned their sugary treats until they were a perfect toasty brown.

He’d had his hands on her as much as he could tonight, and he was addicted to the feel of her. He did not know how he could go another day without touching her. Even a few hours felt too long a stretch. Emma soothed him and excited him at once, his heart raced but his demons stayed away. Feeling so much and having those feelings be good was something he’d never known before, but yes, sometimes worries crept in. He couldn’t help fearing that somehow she would leave him, and his hands were tied at the moment. He couldn’t tell her everything he felt so early on, but he’d never feel fully comfortable until he could. Still, the way she looked at him, like she knew him even better than he knew himself, should terrify him. Emma saw into his soul and could read him fully, scars and all. But instead of running from the attention like he did with anyone else, he was filled with pleasure. To know that she cared and that she was in this with him meant everything, and that eased the pain of his thoughts and worries being so obvious.

“What face is that love?” He feigned ignorance, though he knew exactly what she was getting at.

“The one you get when I’m leaving, or when you’re worried that I will,” Emma said, pulling out her golden treat from the fire and offering it to him. He absentmindedly took it as she continued on. “You had it yesterday at the parade, and then before we talked. Sometimes you get a version of it at the Center when it’s time to say goodbye, or when our tasks take us different directions for the day. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s a pretty persistent expression.”

“I’m not a fan of being parted from you,” Killian admitted and Emma looked at him with a softness in his eyes that spoke to understanding.

“That makes two of us. But luckily we’ve still got time, right?”

We have forever, he thought to himself but he bit the words back as he nodded and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

From there they managed to create Emma’s favorite summer sweet, and he had to admit that it was delicious, especially when he tasted it on Emma every time he stole a kiss. It was decadent but simple, and though s’mores were not a custom here in Montenarro, he felt young again. Like a kid in the summer months. It was peaceful and rejuvenating, and he wanted to extend that as much as he could.

“What are your thoughts on stargazing, love?” he asked, and Emma looked surprised before casting her eyes above.

“I haven’t had much chance to do it, honestly. We’ve always been city people so the light makes it hard to see. But out here… wow, I didn’t realize just how much you can see.”

“This is nothing,” he said, standing up and tugging at her hand. “Here, let me show you.”

As they left the stone walkway, Killian grabbed a nearby lantern, lighting the flame so they’d have enough light to guide their way. With languid steps the two of them walked from the fireside down a path in the back greenery. It was dimly lit with tiny lights along the path on the ground, but by now the sun had long since set and the night was out around them. Only the pale yellow glow of their lantern cast anything substantial enough to help them see. Emma held his hand tightly, and he checked to make sure she was comfortable. Her expression, even in the dim light, told him everything he needed to know. She was excited for this, and unbothered by the darkness they needed to get through to see the sea of stars.

Soon enough they came upon the back villa, a structure meant to house any guests, which had long been dormant. Since Killian was not here, he’d had no visitors, but someday he hoped that would change. What the house did boast, however, was something essential for stargazing, and he was glad he’d had the foresight to pull it out before Emma’s arrival.

“Wow,” Emma said when their seating area came into view. “That’s some telescope.”

“One thing you’ll learn about my brother is he does nothing by half. I mentioned the stars once when home for a deployment and the next day this was in my rooms. I had no real need of it at the palace, so I had it brought here. Needless to say, it’s a bit more powerful than anything I might have expected.”

“Henry would love this,” Emma said and Killian warmed at the mention of her son. Her boy was special to be sure, and even though he’d only met him yesterday, he knew Emma was right. Henry would take great joy in learning about something like this, and Killian felt a strong need to be the one to teach him how.

“He’s welcome any time, love. You and he both. You know that.”

Emma nodded, running her fingertips across the telescope thoughtfully. Killian knew she was thinking of that possibility, and he saw no signs of discomfort on her face. She just appeared to be thinking about what that might be like and what it would mean to bring her son to this place. Eventually Emma looked at him again, and when she did there was a light in her green eyes not provided by the lantern or the nearly full moon. It was something else, something warm and wonderful. A moment passed where there was so much left unsaid, but then she smiled and asked him to show her what to do. He was eager to do so, finding with relative ease all the big constellations and visible planets on this clear, summer’s night.

“Which constellation means the most to you?” Emma asked. He noticed that she hadn’t asked which one was his favorite. She had purposefully worded her query with the intention of understanding him. Tonight they both wanted to learn as much as they could about each other. It had been a theme throughout dinner and beyond, and for the first time he felt able to give that openness to someone. She may not realize how much this particular question meant, but he wanted to share it all the same.

“Aquila,” he replied, aiming the telescope to where it should be in the inky night sky. It took a few moments, but he found it sure enough, and he passed the scope to Emma with careful fingers so as not to move the lens. She took it in, looking at the stars, some brighter than others. She wouldn’t be able to see the design, or the lines that star maps always filled in, but that wasn’t important. It was the story behind this choice that mattered.

“It’s beautiful,” Emma said quietly. “What does it mean to you?”

“Aquila is the eagle constellation, part of the Herculean star systems. You can see the wings up top, and the bulk of the body below,” Emma nodded, her eyes staying trained in the telescope, giving him a bit more time to rein in his feelings before carrying on. “Aquila has long been associated with warriors, and so being in the navy, that connection always drew some attention. But it’s not the only fighting symbol. It’s not the strongest or most dominant. Most people who know of stars appreciate the constellation, yet cite others as more impressive or important.”

“But not you,” Emma said, looking back at him and coming to sit beside him on the outside lounger. Her hand came back to his and she gave a soft squeeze, pushing him forward.

“My affinity for this particular constellation has to do with the number in the grouping itself. There are ten stars in the assemblage.” He took a steadying breath and said the rest. “The same amount of sailors I’ve lost on my watch.”

Killian took another pause, steadying himself as the faces of those soldiers graced his memory. Despite the effects of time, he remembered each one of them, and sadly he vividly recalled their passings too. None had been easy losses, almost all had been in active combat, and most never had real resolutions. The killers got away, or were untraceable. There was no avenging these fallen brothers and sisters, there was only forward motion. Survival dictated they all carry on, but Killian’s heart required that he carry the fallen with him. He would not let them be forgotten. Indeed, the smallest thing he could do was see them in the stars each night.

“On a ship or on deployment, there are lots of open spaces. The night sky is a constant. Clouds may come, and so does fighting, but if you live through the day, the stars remain. They teach all sailors in the royal navy about the stars. Navigating by them might not be necessary anymore, but it’s a skill we’re expected to harness. The stars were also familiar. I had gazed upon them as a boy, not so unlike tonight. Liam and I used to enjoy such things, in the summer especially. For a long time, when I saw the stars, I thought of home. I thought of my family, and I took strength from that.

“But as much as the stars were a comfort, they were also witness to some of the worst moments of my life. When I experienced real fear and real loss in the field the first time, it was dark out, the peak of night, where stars are brightest. We were ambushed, a number of us were wounded, and we lost a life. Lieutenant Smee was nearly finished with the service. He had three weeks left, but death doesn’t respect such things.”

As he remembered that first lost, Killian still felt the weight of that realization. He’d known going into the service that risk was a part of things, but it made it all so much more real to have someone die in front of him. At that time he couldn’t understand why things happened that way, and he’d felt completely unmoored from any concept of a higher power. If endings were arbitrary and life came crashing down so unexpectedly all the time, what did that mean for the rest of them? What were they fighting for? And was any of it worth it?

“The next night I couldn’t sleep. I felt too much guilt,” he explained, looking down at Emma’s hands on him and using that as a lifeline in these murky feelings from his past. “We were sleeping and a man was dead, a family was broken, a dream was erased. I looked at the stars all night. This time I felt my ties back home and I also saw the scars I was forming. But even still, every night thereafter I looked at them. Loss came at any time, under the night sky, in a rainstorm, or in the blazing sun. Every time it did, I added a face to see. Soon I had enough to merit picking a specific group. At one time I prayed I would never come to need Aquila, and when I did need it, I prayed to never need another. Ten souls lost was ten too many.”

By now Emma was wrapped up beside him, her embrace having grown more supportive as he continued on, and despite the weight of the memories, he didn’t feel overwhelmed. There wasn’t darkness in full. It was like the sky tonight. There was deep, obscure patches, but light overall. That’s what Emma did for him. She lit him up and made his world so much brighter in the process. It also helped that as he continued on, telling stories of the people he’d lost she never flinched. She sat there calmly, attentively, and supportively. She held him, and when he felt he could say no more tonight she looked at him, with unshed tears and true affection that helped him feel like everything might be okay.

“That was the first time you’ve told anyone any of this, wasn’t it?” he nodded. She curled up closer to him, quietly telling him that she knew how much that meant.

“Aye, but it won’t be the last. I’ve made arrangements to meet with a naval counselor. I never intended to, but today I made the call.”

“What changed your mind?” she asked, clearly glad for his choice but holding off on her opinion.

“You,” he said honestly. “I would really like the chance to be in your life, Emma. You and Henry both. I hope I’ve made that clear by now, but I need to know for myself that I can give you everything I want safely. I still have nightmares and bad moments. I have scars as you now realize, and I want to understand them so I can be better for you, and for me.”

“You’re already more than enough, Killian.” Again she cupped his face, looking at him with what could only be described as love. Whether it was said or unsaid, Killian knew that Emma loved him, and that she was proud of him, despite everything he’d seen and done. It humbled him to feel that, and he knew he could never go another day without it. She was everything and so much more. “As someone who has needed help for my own demons though, I know how good sharing your stories will be. I used to be so afraid about being enough for Henry, about messing him up because of what I’d been through. I know you know the basics, but the truth is I was in more than a dozen placements in sixteen years, and that kind of constant change and upheaval and rejection takes a toll on a kid.”

Killian could not imagine how anyone could meet Emma and not want to keep her. To think of all the places that she’d landed that didn’t fight for her, that didn’t realize what a good and honest person she was made him sick. He knew she’d been through agony as a child, but he never imagined it could be so bleak.

“When I finally split, I still couldn’t find roots, no matter how hard I tried. I was desperate for them. I had no money and nowhere to go. I just… wandered. I’d have given anything for a family or even just friends, but I didn’t trust anyone enough to really let them in. I just needed to survive, and I couldn’t get to a stable enough place to feel like I could take a breath, never mind live a real life. Neal was the first person who helped me, and I made an exception for him. I let him past my walls, and I trusted in him.”

It wasn’t easy to hear Emma speak of a past love, but the look in her eyes told him there was no lingering emotion for this man he knew was Henry’s father. She may have loved him at one time, but that love was now gone. There wasn’t anger or hurt either, there was just calm, like she’d already made peace with every part of this sad story.

“It was good between us for a while, and I was young and I wanted to love and be loved. As soon as I let him in, that was it. He had my loyalty and my heart. I’d have done anything for him. I thought he could be that connection I was needing, but my desperation clouded my judgment. I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. I knew he wasn’t always on the right side of the law, but he always did right by me. I could see past his choices because he loved me and because he did these things for us. That’s what he always said, ‘I’m doing this for us.’ He also never involved me, and he made me feel protected. The world was a rough place, but we’d make it through. He’d get us through, that’s what he said. By the time I realized what kind of man he really was though, everything had gone wrong. He got caught stealing all sorts of shit, and he ran. Not only did he run, he tried to set me up for what he did to get the heat off of him. I almost went to prison. Not jail, but prison, for grand theft.”

Killian could understand more and more now why she had felt extra sensitive to the differences between them. As a Prince, his life and the lives of his loved ones would be under scrutiny always. She probably worried he would hear this and resent it, but he never could. He was livid at the fact that a man had ever hurt Emma this way, that he’d been coward enough to let her take the fall. But he was stunned at her perseverance. Somehow she’d gotten through that, and he was awed by the strength such growth must take.

“The only reason I was let go and my arrest was never recorded was because a good Samaritan called into the cops and provided my alibi. I had been in the park all day, studying for the last of my tests I needed to pass my GED. She and her dog were out there and the dog got off leash. I helped her wrangle the little guy at the same time as the robbery clear across the city. With her testimony they had nothing on me, and they realized they were going to charge me with something I had nothing to do with. I was let go, but yet again I was left with nothing. I had to start over again and it was so hard to do. Then a few months later I realized I was pregnant with Henry. I was so scared. I really didn’t think I could do it, but my state sponsored counselor ended up being a great help. She got me on the road to making things better, and she helped me see the circumstances of my life were out of my control. She said something I thought was unique, but it’s something I hear Anna say to the kids all the time at the center.”

“All you can do is the next right thing,” Killian echoed, and Emma nodded.

“I don’t think I always get it right, but I try to, and looking back I can honestly say that I’m proud of the last ten years. It wasn’t always easy, but we are here and here is…” Emma’s face colored with a soft, thoughtful smile and he could tell that she was thinking of her boy and how their life together was. Killian couldn’t help but feel tremendous pride in Emma and awe at all she had done. She was truly a survivor, and it was clear that the choices she’d made since then had all been guided by a want to do right by herself and by her son.

“Here is…?” Killian hedged, wanting to hear her put it into words. Now her eyes met his and they flickered, turning warm and sultry.

“Here is proving to be better and better, in no small part because of you.”

It was difficult to tell which of them started the kiss they shared then, but Killian savored every moment of it. They were out there together, under the stars and enjoying the quiet peace here away from the world. He wanted to get lost in it, to hold Emma tight from this point on and never have to pull back. Before their evening began he’d already envisioned his future lay with Emma, but now he could see it all here. The two of them together, choosing each other, building a life. Henry was here, and maybe someday other children. He’d be with his family, but they’d live on their own. He didn’t know how, but he felt that he could. He could craft a story for them here, and he just prayed that Emma felt inclined to do the same. Her actions tonight stoked that hope, and the taste of her kiss and the feel of her hands on him revived anything that he’d lost in his recent journey back through the past. Soon enough he was restored, feeling better than he ever had, and content that after so long he truly had found everything that he wanted.

“I wish this night never had to end,” Emma said wistfully some time later. Her lips swollen from their interlude and her golden hair bearing a slightly different shape from where his fingers had twined through. She was more beautiful than ever, here under the moonlight and in the lantern’s golden glow. And though they’d done nothing more than typical first date customs would allow, Killian would never know. He’d never felt so satisfied, and he shuttered to think of what he’d feel when they truly came together.

“I feel the same, love, but I promise – ehrm rather, I hope – that it won’t be the last.”

He shouldn’t have been so presumptuous as to assume she’d want another date with him. Of course he felt her desire and her want to be with him, but this situation was different than most other couples giving things a try. Perhaps she would realize she didn’t actually want to date a prince, undeniable attraction be damned. But God if she ended this then –

Before his thoughts could spiral, Emma pulled him for another searing kiss, one that left no room for outside worries or despair. There was only Emma, and god she was a wonder. He was dizzy from her by the time they broke apart, and his heart lurched at the seductive smile she tossed his way.

“Any chance you’re free on Tuesday?” Emma asked, filling his heart with relief before adding an even sweeter sensation directly thereafter. “Henry’s going straight from camp to dinner at a friend’s house but he’ll back for dessert. We’re having…” she trailed off and blushed and now Killian was too curious to be polite.

“What is it love?”

“Apple pie and ice cream.”

“How endearingly American.”

“I swear we’re doing our best to immerse ourselves, but sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants,” she said with a shrug and he chuckled, running his hand along her cheek and watching her green eyes darken with the immediate interest that flared once more.

“I can think of nothing I’d like more than to see you and Henry again, love. Dessert sounds divine, whatever is on the menu”

“And dinner?” she asked, licking her lips and making him want another taste even though he’d had one just moments ago.

“If you’ll place your trust in me, I have just the spot in mind. It’s in the city, and we’ll be assured of total privacy.”

“Perfect,” she whispered, leaning into him as they stood and as he took her hand, leading her down the outdoor path once more.

And though it hurt to say goodbye when he drove her back home, so much so that Killian couldn’t bear to say the words, opting instead for a ‘See you soon, Swan’ and a final stolen kiss, he was comforted in knowing that this night was not the end. Instead, it was a beautiful beginning, one his instincts told him would lead him to the best moments of his life for now and always.

Post-Note: So there we have it – another CS first date in the books. I hope that you have enjoyed this chapter. For me it was a real relief to write this, both because I wanted to get to this moment, but also because I crafted it in the midst of a maddeningly busy part of my program. The good news is I have moved to my final stage and successfully passed, so I’ll soon be out of the thick of my crazy time consuming studies. Still, I may be sporadically posting for a little bit as I settle into my new normal post-school. All that being said, this chapter helped me destress and surround myself in fluff, even while dealing with some harder issues in Emma and Killian’s pasts. Please rest assured that Emma and Killian move forward from this moment with nothing but hope and good vibes. My plan for this fic has always been about 12 chapters, and I think I will land right there when all is said and done, and I promise to get back to this fic as soon as I can. In the meantime, I appreciate all of you so much for your continued support and kind words. They mean so much to me and I carry them always. Thanks again and hope you have a great rest of your weekend!

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wizardnuke · 3 years

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I was tagged by the myth the legend @capfalcon jordan what have u done

tag meme: list 3-5 snippets of literature/media that live in your head rent-free to the point where you have them memorised; write them down from memory, no cheating allowed!

ahaha. bet.

siken

I'm the director. I'm in a helicopter. I have a megaphone and you're following along because you want to die for love, you always have.

okay that was the single normal one I have. I swear I didn't cheat I'm just a theater kid and I imprinted on the eleventh doctor when I was a preteen it's terminal

doctor who, stormageddon:

helloooo, stonehenge! whoever takes the pandorica takes the universe! but bad news, everyone, 'cause guess who? ha, except you lot, you're all whizzing about, it's all very distracting. could you all just stay still for a minute beCAUSE I! AM! TAAAALKING! now, the question of the hour is, who's got the pandorica? answer- I do. next question, who's going to take it from me? come onnnn, look at me! no plan, no backup, no weapons worth a damn, and something else I don't have- anything to lose! so, if you're sitting up there in your silly little spaceships with all your silly little guns, and you've got any plans on taking the pandorica tonight, just remember who's standing in your way. remember every black day that I ever stopped you, and then, AND THEN, do the smart thing: let somebody else try first.

dw, the rings of ahkten, jesus christ:

okay, then. that's what I'll do. I'll tell you a story. can you hear them? all these people who lived in terror of you and your judgment. all these people whose ancestors devoted themselves, sacrificed themselves to you. can you hear them singing? ohhh, you like to think you're a god. but you're not a god, you're just a parasite! eat now with jealousy and longing and envy for the lives of others. you feed on them, on the memory of love and loss and birth and death and joy and sorrow, so, so come on, then. take mine. take my memories- but I hope you've got a big appetite, because I've lived a long life, and I've seen a few things. I walked away from the last great time war. I marked the passing of the time lords. I saw the birth of the universe and I watched as time ran out, moment by moment, until nothing remained- no time, no space, just! me! I walked in universes where the laws of physics were devised by the mind of a madman, and I watched universes freeze and creations burn! I gave seen things you wouldn't believe! I have lost things you will never understand! and I know things, secrets that must never be told, knowledge that must never be spoken! knowledge that will make parasite gods blaze! so cooOOOME OOOON, THEN! TAKE IT! TAKE IT ALL, BABY! YOU HAVE IT! YOU HAVE IT ALL!

tagging anyone who wants to do it ksndkfjfk

#I mean it when I say that eleven imprinted on me I MEAN it.

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

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Merry & Bright {18}: Did You Know?

Previous: That’s Christmas To Me

youtube

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Angst

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Swearing!

Summary: Your reoccurring Nativity dream brings big questions as you share the holiday with Namjoon’s family.

Dreams are often ways in which our minds process information. They manipulate people, they change the settings, they extort emotions for the sake of clarity. It’s your brains chance to reset every day. But for you, your dreams always pulled you further and further away from yourself. They took you deep into a forbidden forest or left you alone on a mountain top. As the holidays approached, you kept having one reoccurring dream… every night intensifying as if to signal an impending message, like an angel appearing to you.

Each evening as you drifted, you found yourself back in that same place, invisible to the people around you. The dust from the dirt road drifting around you, the smell of unwashed bodies and animals swelling around you. You always started in the same place, walking side by side as a donkey carried a pregnant woman, her husband knocking on every door asking for shelter, always being turned away.

Your first night in this dream of Bethlehem, you’d recognized your surroundings immediately. Hadn’t you read the story a thousand times? It wasn’t until the second night that you tried to intervene, to no avail. By the third, you’d progressed from the journey of Mary and Joseph to the shepherds, guarding their flock. On night four you awoke with a start, the angels having just appeared, trumpets blaring, Hallelujah chorus playing softly in the distance. When you finally reached night seven, and witnessed the birth of the baby Jesus, you were taken aback by the scene in front of you. For it wasn’t Mary and Joseph, but the Kim family, and baby Jesus was none other than Namjoon. Dream you jumped, scared and startled by the revelation. As you unwillingly awoke from your dreams, you couldn’t help but stare at your partner.

“Kim Namjoon, the great I am?” You asked yourself, unable register the meaning of your dream. It was on nights 9-14 that you discovered the parameters of your think space and began exploring the nativity scene, patiently awaiting the Wise Men to arrive from the east. Every night, you watched intently as the scene played out. Jesus, or Namjoon, being born, wrapped in swaddling cloth and laid in a manger. Every morning you awoke, less confused but still searching for meaning.

Namjoon wasn’t religious and had acknowledged that he believed there was no god. And yet, every night, you dreamt of him, his birth being proclaimed, the star guiding worshippers to his cradle.

You found yourself staring at Namjoon more and more, mind working as you looked at him, racing with questions and judgments. Wandering to uncharted territory that you’d dip your toe in, a step too far and you’d never come out, but enough that you could find your way back… back to him. Back to your body, back to this space, not Bethlehem, not Judea, but your apartment in Seoul. Namjoon would turn to you, calling your name or saying “jagi, come back”, knowing full well you had indulged your whims.

“Jagi, you’ve been acting, different,” Namjoon said one morning over coffee.

“I keep having this dream,” You said, staring at him.

“Oh?” He’d asked, sitting down and staring at you.

“It’s the same one, every night,” You told him, eyes still squinted as you recounted the events. “I, I don’t know why I’m having it, but it comes to me every single night,”

“Do you want to tell me what it is?” Namjoon asked.

“No, no, I haven’t figured it out yet,” You shook your head, eyes still confused. “When I figure it out, I will.”

That evening, you ventured to visit Namjoon’s parents for a celebratory dinner. They had many things to celebrate: Namjoon’s year of success, his definite return from military service, your impending engagement, and last of all, Christmas. Entering their home, you both bowed, acknowledging your elders before they pulled you both into a hug. The embrace was familiar, the house, familiar, the occasion for their dinner? Familiar. All you felt was an uncertainty, an imbalance within yourself. The dread that something was going to happen, and in the most outrageous parts of your mind, you wondered if Wise Men would arrive from the east, or if a star was shining down on the apartment complex, letting everyone know the great savior, Kim Namjoon, was here, eating dumplings with his family.

Retiring to the living room for dessert and drinks, you found yourself looking at old family photos with Namjoon’s mother, the tugging in your heart growing.

“Did you know?” You whispered, staring at Namjoon’s first Christmas photo.

“Did I know?” She asked you, eyes confused and staring into yours.

“Did you know that he, did you know that he would be,” You couldn’t get the words out. There were too many possibilities.

· Did you know that your baby boy would one day sing to millions?

· Did you know that your baby boy Would travel the globe?

· Did you know that your baby boy Would set records for albums sold?

· Did you know that he’d earn Hwagwan Orders of Cultural Merit before turning 27?

· Did you know that he would speak to the United Nations General Council, twice?

· Did you know that he’d help raise 1.4 million for UNICEF through the Love Myself campaign?

· Did you know that he would help donate over 2 million to Black Lives Matter?

· Did you know that he’d have five consecutive albums chart at No. 1 on the Billboard 200?

· Did you know that he’d have the most No. 1s in iTunes history?

· Did you know that he would greet the President of Korea?

· Did you know that he would lead the greatest band to grace the planet earth?

· Did you know that despite your words, your hate, your misunderstanding of his career, would spur him on further?

· Did you know?

Staring at her, your eyes filled immediately with tears. The possibilities, the potential, the endless universes that Namjoon could create and was creating… The drive, his push to be better than he was yesterday, to think about the moments he’s been happiest, to understand the complexities of the universe, to bring out the best in everyone, his perfectionism and depression be damned. The suffering he endured, the heartache, the failures, the never-ending self-doubt that what he was doing was right and just. His music reaching every nation. Namjoon, the sun and the stars at his disposal. Namjoon, the dimpled boy making a name for himself off of a Maple Story character. Namjoon, the mighty, Namjoon the brave, Namjoon, the great redeemer.

“Did you know he’d be…” Your voice was gone, emotion taking over as your eyes try to plead with her.

“No, I didn’t,” She said, hand reaching to rest over yours.

“Mary didn’t know either,” You whispered.

Next: We’re Happy Tonight

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naturaldisasterfanfiction · 4 years

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25. Part 4

This reminds me of the time I got back with Chris, they had this type of meeting and then told me I was going on a seven day tour, which was done on purpose. We shall see anyways, I am waiting for them both to come into the conference, I have Jen and Tina here again “it’s pretty funny how the blogs pick up on the worse part of things, like what does Chris got to do with the arrest bullshit. It’s annoying to see that, like they can’t just say positives. And they are clutching at your name, they are talking about the time when you nearly went broke, I don’t get it. And they mentioned Drake” I closed my eyes shaking my head “that is nice, I am just going to ring Chris” I need to see if he is making movements, when I called him an hour ago he said he was packing some things, I hope he is done by now. I want him here, I got Tina to send Rich to Chris so he can get him over here, well just to see if he is ok to be honest while he comes here, some company “are you making movements to come here now? What are you doing?” I think he is at home still, it’s very quiet there “yes, Rich is here. But like I have cameras outside my home” rolling my eyes, figured “just waiting for the SUV to come and then I will be coming, I packed a lot of my things. Mijo, what are you doing here?” Chris said “it’s crazy out here, I came for you. You good?” least Mijo is there, that is a positive “they hate me out there, you hear that? Like I did bad” seeing both Jay’ have come onto the conference “Chris, I will call you back” I said to him, disconnecting the call. You know what this is like history repeating itself, I feel like I have been through this with them and they made me so busy, but I took it because I was stupid, and it ruined us.

Everyone is pretty quiet on this chat, they not saying anything. I mean they haven’t spoke “what the fuck” Jay Brown finally did “at what?” rubbing my bump, I feel the pain. I am feeling it “this whole thing, I really thought you was over Chris Brown. A lot of people are over that man Rihanna, I mean he brings nothing to the table. He just got arrested last night?” I sniggered “he didn’t get arrested, wrong place at the wrong time so next time don’t read the blogs. Nobody brings up that Jay, well both of you have both hit women, I mean you have paid off every person, but everyone wants to drag the guy that is not well, you are bullying him. I won’t have it, I won’t have the blogs putting him down, I won’t have you using him for Tidal events, you say people are not looking for him when they are! When you fucking sing his songs, sorry it was not the Jew” I sound like Chris, that very moment I caught myself speaking like my husband “I thought it was Drake, and he is well. He’s well enough to act the way he does” Jay Z said “oh you got a degree on peoples mental state now or did you pay off the specialist also to say he hasn’t got it. I am not going to get rid of the father of my child. It happened, I slept with the man I know, the man I do love. So what, if you had the chance to sleep with Aaliyah again I am sure you would” Jen gasped, Jay Z sighed out “it’s about you though Rihanna, this is about your life, you are pregnant by the guy people dislike” I am angry “and fuck them! I don’t fucking care, it’s about me and my daughter. And what is good for my daughter” I don’t care for them, they can dislike him all they want “we have been talking and you on your own with this” I laughed shaking my head “I never asked for any of you, I expect a lot of blocks now. Just like you did before, don’t worry. You will see, I am done. I am off this shit, disconnect it” I got up from the chair, I don’t need this.

Stretching my back breathing out, I don’t need the headache. They told me; I am on my own. They won’t help me clear anything of my name because I am not doing it their way, I am ok with that. I built myself this way, I did this for myself, I can do it. Roc Nation will see it, they will see what they have done to me and how I will rise up. I never fought back with them over Chris, I am now. It was so pointless, all they wanted to do is check on me, to see where my mind is at. Then they could pick at me, but they saw me, they saw I was too strong for that, now they will need to go back to the drawing board “I will not have them disrespect my family! What are they going to do kill him? I mean I wouldn’t put it past him” let me not say that “Jay Z does have his people, I guess” Dennis said “I want Chris here, I need him here because he is my rock” I just didn’t need him here, people getting at him alone “is he coming , Robyn sit down please. Don’t walk around like that. I am worried for you” my mom is worried for me “people are coming for my family mom” my mom got up from the couch “don’t” I walked off, I don’t need a hug right now because I am so heated by all of this “Jay Brown” Dennis said passing my phone to me, what does he want now. Taking my phone from him “what is it?” I said “we don’t want to fight; I don’t want this with you. You have picked what you want Robyn and all I am saying is that we can’t help with the rumours, but I am seeing a lot of backlash. You are his third baby mother Robyn, we just wanted better for you” clearing my throat as I paced into the next room “I know what I am Jay and it’s not that ok? Trust me, you’re either with me or against me, I don’t need Roc Nation, you know this. You need me” this is why he has called me, he needs me “you’re right” Jay said “and the team will advise what to do next, I am sure Tina has said about posting another? Talk soon” Jay put the phone down, did I break them. I think I did, maybe they see this is a different Robyn.

I am glad to hear Chris on the jet, Rich said he is asleep, so I left it at that. Now I am just sat here seeing that I am on a news channel, weird that I am on a news channel for just doing nothing special “popstar Rihanna has announced she is expecting a baby girl with her former lover Chris Brown, she is currently living in London where it was seen to have caused some controversy when her former partner had his cars delivered” the news reporter said, they really doing this on me. I mean I didn’t see no news cameras outside my home but they are interviewing my neighbours “how do you feel that Rihanna is living here?” the guy asked “it’s Rihanna, who would be mad at that” the guy laughed, rolling my eyes “they do get more and more stupid, so how do you think they are going to feel when I tell them I am married. I realised that I never told Jen that, I maybe need to tell her” I hissed out “my god, that hurt!” I shouted, my mom jumped off of the couch and came over to me “are you ok?” my mom rubbed my back, that really winded me, I am breathing heavily “yes, I think she is just ready to come. I am not sure, this is not good for me, and thanks. I need my back rubbed” I have missed that; my mom kissed the back of my head.

I thought I would get into bed early; Chris will be arriving here in the early hours and I want to be awake for him, so I am in bed. I am going to call Jen first; she deserves to know but I hope she understands “how is my big baby mother?” Jen said, I laughed out “she is not doing great Jen, she is stressed out. Need some sleep, so I am in bed already” I am knackered, I feel so sleepy “get rest, I saw you pulling faces. The very faces I pulled, Braxton hicks kicking in?” I have no idea what that is “what is that?” I questioned “your body is preparing itself for birth, but stress can trigger early birth too, so stop it. I should know” Jen is right “I will try, I am drained. Oh yeah, Jay Brown called me back, like little fucking pussies. They need me Jen” I am right on this “they do, I wasn’t sweating it, because they were the one calling me saying tell Chris’ partners to not speak a word on Rihanna, we will come for them, this and that. I am like you said you don’t care, they do. I think with the way you were and they saw you as a threat, good!” I grinned; I am glad they do “I am calling you for a reason though and this is another part to the Chris and Rihanna story” I laughed “oh Jesus, let me pour some wine. What is it now, don’t tell me your both ran off to get married” Jen laughed, she laughed, and I didn’t laugh “wait, what?” this is awkward “I mean, no offence. I am sorry but I just wanted to do it, I am so sorry Jen, please don’t hate me. We did elope, we are actually married” the phone line went silence, I guess I have really upset her now “you crazy bastards, you know what. I am not shocked but what the hell, I mean it’s been eventful anyways. Listen here Robyn, this time last year you were crying because you had no family of your own and look at that. Remember when I said come to mine, and you said no, I am sick of being everyone’s auntie. Fuck it, ok? I am not angry or upset, I am happy for you crazy bitches. Cause you both are crazy, and that is all. I love you so much Robyn and I am happy for you. He made a honest woman of you, that is what I like to hear, the growth” Jen is making me emotional “thank for being so happy for us, it’s nice to hear it” it’s refreshing “I have been around for far too long to see the love you both hold, it’s wild but be happy it’s your time” Jen is right, it is my time.

I set my alarm, to wake up at around the time Chris will arrive. I just want to be here to welcome him home and I am super excited for him to be back, I just needed him to be here for this. There is no use that we are split, we need a united front. Taking off my alarm and placing my phone back on the pillow, I can’t wait to have Chris back in bed with me. Today is a new day and some new drama, I mean it’s us so we will get new drama. I put my phone on airplane mode so I could make sure I get my sleep; I should check my phone actually. Stifling out a yawn as I grabbed my phone again, swiping up to unlock my phone and then dragging down to take airplane mode off “damn girl” I swear my daughter finds me annoying, in there kicking me with hate. Probably sick of drama that I bring in her life already, watching the notifications drop down constantly but it’s not Chris so that means things should be going smoothly and he should be arriving, or just landed. I should maybe look cute for him, that is a great idea. I am going to look cute for him with my silk robe on, you never know I might get lucky tonight but when I mean that I just want snuggles.

“If it isn’t the mannequin herself, how long you been sat here in the early hours. Morning baby” Dennis said “for a while, two hours late. But I am here, looking pretty. What you think?” I smiled “I think this calls for footage, don’t you think. I love it, you’re sexy slash just woke up out of bed and don’t touch me because I am too bougie for you. I like it, let me get my camera” Dennis is damn right, he better get his camera out. I am not even thinking drama, I am just thinking my man, so he better hurt up before I become irritated. Actually no, I am trying to be good for him. I have been awful with him, but he needs to know not to test me also, I wonder if Chris knows how to open the gate and door, I am sure he will know. Maybe I should check, I think I should check. Just ask if he knows, I know he is here because he text me but that was like two hours ago, I don’t want to call again in case I hear bad news “welcome back Chris” my ears perked up, getting up from the couch “yeah, two weeks later I’m back. With a mad wife” Dennis walked in backwards, I feel so giddy inside “where she at, I am on one hundred right now” Chris walked into the room, with my hands covers my mouth smiling wide seeing him. Clapping my hands together “my baby is home” I couldn’t run “wow, look at you. Crumb is doing big things in there, oh wow” opening my arms wide “I missed you so much” hooking my arm around his neck kissing cheek before hugging him “I missed you too, it’s been hard. I am sorry, I let you down bad. I didn’t do what I should have” moving my head back “just stop, I am happy you’re back” touching his face with my free hand “I love you” pecking his lips “I love you too” pecking his lips again hugging him.

Follow behind Chris “my baby got a surprise for me, he said anyways” Dennis is laughing, not sure why but he is “if it’s stupid I will be annoyed” Chris let my hand go and opened the door, I jumped back seeing a huge white fur ball walking “what is this!?” I shouted hiding behind Chris “Zues” my eyes bulged out, I know he didn’t bring that thing here “no! I don’t like it” hiding behind Chris “he is sniffing his mom, stop it” grabbing Chris’ arm “this is not a surprise! Oh my god, you bought this huge thing in this home! Chris, get it out now. Oh my god, my couches in this room, get it out” he is laughing but it’s not funny “it’s ugly, go away” moving around Chris “well this is why I took so long, I was waiting for him to arrive, he had to come on a different flight so he can be looked after properly and also, I paid above and beyond to fast track this. He’s sensitive” Chris is stressing me out already “right, that thing can stay away from. I am allergic to hairy white things” and it wants to sniff me, I think not “she will love you boy, come on. You need to do your first shit here” staring at Dennis “this content is hilarious, will be back” Chris just ruined my moment by this, now his dog will get his attention.

I would have assumed Chris would be jetlagged, but he is hyper “where is Monica?” Chris asked as he opened his bottle of water “probably upstairs, I am super happy you are back. I would be emotional and crying but I did my make up for you. What you think?” he better act right “I noticed, first thing I noticed was your beautiful face and then the bump, it’s gone so big” Chris sat on the bar stool “maybe later, when my makeup comes on, I will probably cry. I just needed you back, you were suffering on your own” standing next to him “I feel way better being back here, like in Cali. I just felt alone doing it. I feel so bad, like we have so much to talk about. But right now, I just feel so happy you are here with me. I love you” I can tell “I appreciate Rich though, like leaving Cali I was in a daze. There were photographers just taking picture of me and then asking me shit. Oh yeah, so like Royalty text me she said can I put this, she sent me this caption and it said I am super happy for my dad and to have another sister, and she used the picture you put up. I was like that is fine, I am glad she asked because with the whole marriage thing” that is so sweet “awww she is a sweetheart, I really like her” I do think she is a good girl, watching Chris getting his phone out “she has been calling me all day yesterday and texting me, she put a post-up about me being a deadbeat” staring at her name, I am tempted to answer this myself.

#Chrianna FF #Chrianna Fanfiction #Chrianna #Fanfiction #Fanfic

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percywinchester27 · 3 years

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@caughtaghostsomehow I’m just going to put it all underneath the keep reading, picking things from all of those reblogs cause why not!

Part 27:

I understand why Max trusts Sam so much... Even after he initially failed him, he still kept his promise later on and he's been keeping it since.

The scene when Sam finds Max in the cell... Oh man.. I was angry at first, just like Sam but then my heart broke for this little boy. Sam and him needed each other. I think they may be soulmates.. The universe destined them to help each other out.

Yep. The reason why Sam is just so insanely careful about Max is because he how what it feels like to almost lose him. And the prison scene changed a lot since it was conceived. But I knew I wanted Max to start out as a physical kid and then grow out of it. He and Sam really were destined.

I'm so glad we got to see how Jody found out about the whole situation and I just love her more after finding out that she helped with the adoption (by the way, I love how thorough your research is 🧡).

I knew Dean would never give up on his brother but it just made me really emotional when he kept calling and Sam finally picked up and the first words out of Dean's mouth were "are you alright?". It got to me for some reason...

I thought it was logical to go to her for a lot of reasons- cause she is a legal writings professor, a close friend AND has experience with adoption as a single parent in the very same state.

Awww... all the Dean parts get me. ALL of them. Especially here because they are so far and in-between in this story.

But Sam wanted his wife to trust him the same way. Unconditionally. He wanted her to trust him with fixing their life, dealing with their loss and grief and wanted her to trust him with rebuilding their life from before the accident.

This is you using my braincells by the way. Cause later on, someone points this EXACT same thing to the reader

I know I've said this before but it just keeps coming back to this in my head, she knew things couldn't be fixed because as much as she probably trusted Sam with her life, she understands that some things just aren't in anyone's control... And Sam wanted her to believe he could mend the wounds all by himself... It's sad and frustrating but I can't wait for them to have this conversation

I know you’ve read part 30 already and you know they touch on this very very briefly but they don’t really resolve this. It gets addressed specifically eventually. His ‘i could fix us’ vs. her ‘I knew you couldn’t.’ Does such for them though.

Chapter 28

Why do I have a bad feeling about that party?

Because. Same. Braincells. Lol.

I really wanted for someone to say that and Sam certainly needed to hear it and I'm so glad it was Chase who opened his eyes about this. He's absolutely right too, let the woman speak for her damn self instead of assuming how she feels.

Chase was me! Yelling at all these characters for not fucking listening to me haha... remember how I told you that people were suspicious of Chase? Yeah, after this chapter, everyone’s kinda adopted him.

My emotions have been all over the place lately anyway but reading how Sam needed to compose himself before speaking about his son's death... I swear I don't have tears in my eyes while typing this- that was hard to read.

I'm glad Max knows... I don't know how much of it he understands but he's a clever boy, I'm sure he has at least a little bit better of an idea why this situation is so delicate.

Awww I’m so sorry I made you cry :/ But, well... Sam doesn’t grieve his son’s death the way the reader does. He’s always been more stoic. Besides, he had to deal with two griefs back then not just one... but I am sure it still hurts too much.

I’ve left it to everyone’s imagination how much Max understands. He knows the concept of death for sure.... but his birth father had orgies at his house. We can all only hope that Max is completely shielded from that since he was using to hiding in closets when there were strangers in the house.

I was surprised by his question too but Sam's response was so... Loving. My heart can't take this.. He's such a great father...

Yep. I mean how else could he have reassured Max? His no lying policy is a great way to raise a child tbh. My sister does that with my nephew. That’s how I know.

Chapter 29

I really like Maddie, she's a genuinely sweet person, I love how helpful she tries to be and that she honestly wants her friend to be happy. I wonder what exactly went wrong during that party for her to look so dejected...

Maddie is nice. I was hellbent on making all of Sam’s canon Exes nice in this series. Cause I’ve had enough of reading the evil ex and current gf pitted against each other trope (Though I’ve never written it myself. Maybe I should and see for myself why it is so alluring lol.) I don’t know, maybe it was little a double prank thingy? Throw the reader in the water and be as mean to Madison as you can?

I really fucking hope that Brad gets what he deserves and that is to be kicked in the balls. Ever fucking heard the word boundary? Consent? I hate people like him with a burning passion and that whole situation infuriated and scared me in equal measure.

Yeah. That asshole needs to go down! His endgame has changed more than anyone elses in the story lol.

The fact that all of it came back to her the instant she hit the water made me sob. She wanted to protect her baby but there was no one there... I just- oh fuck.

Kay that part was HARD to write. All of it. Poor reader!

Was Sam the one to pull her out? If so then I don't even want to think about what would happen if he wasn't there, if they haven't made plans...

The way she started crying for their baby when she found her breath again made me cry even more... I don't know why I feel such a strong connection to this story and characters but I don't want them to ever feel pain like that again. It's heartbreaking 💔

Yeah that was Sam... I mean the pool was visible and all that. I mean of course you know. You read the next chapter. Why am I being a dumbass :/

Something had to trigger her trauma. It wasn’t going to come out on its own and And Sam loves her too much to force her to grieve. He barely held it together when she did grieve so well...

PS.: I'm really sorry you experienced drowning, it's a horrible thing to go through. I don't do pools- or really, any body of water, either. There's just something about the idea of drowning that unsettles me more than I can express.

Yeahh... God bless that lifeguard. Seriously. He’s the only one who noticed that I wasn’t coming up. It was night time and the pool was pretty dark so. I am so sorry that you don’t like pools, either. It’s terrifying.

Chapter 30

Firstly, Ria, you’re TOO GOOD to me, seriously! The fact that I could have you speechless is about the biggest complement you could’ve given me.

If you can call it that and at first when she asked him about the ring, I was surprised but my heart just sunk. I don't think either of them were in the right, I don't think they were both wrong either... I don't believe I'm good enough with problem solving to know what advice I'd give them but I do know that I have never experienced a feeling more cathartic than this one when reading. Twenty nine chapters leading to this moment... All the questions and pining and heartbreak. .. And sure, there's so much more they could say and there's so much more you talk about and figure out but as of right now... This is the beginning of the rest of their lives.

So, I think what she meant to ask was why did he just not give up on her, but she was tired and spontaneous and the ring question just tumbled out instead. I tried so hard for all their conversations to sound spontaneous and not rehearsed you know? Where they ended up touching on every aspect of the past? Cause that wouldn’t happen. It just wouldn’t.

And THANK YOU for saying that. I swear to God, this chapter wouldn’t have made that impact if it hadn’t had a backing of 29 chapters. It would have royally fallen flat. Everyone was invested in the story by now and I was counting on it.

I didn't like how Sam got angry at first because I put myself in her shoes but the truth is, someone needed to get angry about something. One of them had to feel some type of overwhelming emotion to get here and it just so happened that it started with pain and landed on anger.

This is and SPN finale type of dilemma though. Like for the writers, they had to Kill of Dean first cause only Sam had the slight ability to move on. Sam way, I didn’t think the reader would have ever gotten angry first. She is so burdened by her own guilt (undeserved tbh) but she wouldn’t just lash out first. Sam had been angry at the start of the series and absolutely livid in their time apart. I just thought it would be easier for him to get mad first. Not defending his choices or whatever, just why I chose to make that decision as a writer. I would have been plenty mad a reader, too.

But the way they got angry wasn't a bad thing, their anger was based in how much they care about each other. Like the anger I would feel when one of my dogs ran just a little too far from me and a car was coming - took like fifteen fucking years off my ife istg. But I wasn't angry and screaming at them to make them feel bad, I was angry because I was so fucking scared that they would get hurt. The anger wasn't based in resentment, it was based in love. It's the same here and you can see it.

Jesus, I’m so sorry that happened with one of your dogs. Seriously. That sounds scary AF. I’m glad your dogs are okay.

Their anger isn’t destructive. It just isn’t. That much I’m pretty sure of. They’ve dealt with so much shit, and truly love each too much to actually hurt one another with words at this point. And it’s a good 10 chapters of journey where they deal with one issue after another to effing solve it like adults and not teenagers in throes of passion. I was like, nope! Not doing the passionate way. These two don’t get to be smart enough to get into Stanford and then be dumb like that and scream and yell and be jealous or irrational. It added a few chapters, but if I can be patient, so can be everyone else :P

The story she told about the cactus was not only a brilliant way to show her mindset and how people saw her over the years but also so fucking heartbreaking. On one hand you have this coworker who saw her and thought, "that person needs something low maintenance if they can care for something at all" and on the other - you've got this woman who tries her best to nurture this plant and help it grow and it ends up dying anyway.

That cactus one is inspired by real life event. And it seriously broke my heart to go through. Hoping each day that the last pod might live through :/ Like you said her co-worker wasn’t being mean, but it sucks that the cactus died anyway :(

Girl, you made my morning today. I woke up to your love and I just... you had me speechless. That chapter took a lot out of our branicells and I rewrote it so many times just to get it right for it to be respectful, vulnerable and cathartic at the same time.

But may I ask you, WHY YOU WERE UP TILL 5:30 in the morning to read it? I have a timestamp thingy going for me, okay? I knew what time it was over there! And you gave yourself a migraine crying? OMG! I am so so sorry :/ Gosh. If I knew, you were going to binge it straight, I’d have warned you!

Seriously, Ria! Thank you seems like a small phrase. I will tell you this, I love you! So much!

#Ana replies #Ana loves Ria #seriously you make my work look nicer and more deep than it is #sincerely humbled by this #can't word the gratitude right #q

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tremendousinternetyouth · 3 years

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Personal political post incoming.

Joe Biden is far from perfect. I didn't vote for him in the primaries. I don't expect the world to change. Hell, I just want things to maybe even out or slow down enough so that I have time to process news stories before they're overwhelmed by another, worse, one.

But I've been seeing a lot of posts on the internet that, rather than just being critical of Biden, were calling out people for celebrating the beginning of a new administration and for having optimism and I just want to speak my heart on what I feel today.

I've not spoken about it much, but I lost my grandfather this year. I spent my entire life from birth to age 18 (and off and on until I was 27) living less than 100 yards from his house. I saw Papa every day and he was, honestly, one of the most important people in my life. Covid didn't take Papa from me, but because of the threat of the disease, I was unable to see him for the final eight months of his life. His cognitive state rapidly declined in those months as vascular dementia took its toll on him. Which is to say that not only could I not visit him, but he lost the ability to understand why I couldn't visit him. Covid didn't take Papa from me, but Covid did take almost a year of time with Papa from me. And all that time we had a president who wouldn't take the threat as seriously as he should. A president who politicized science and medicine. A president who considered questions of handling the pandemic as a personal insult. A president who had thrown out an established plan to address a pandemic. Those plans may not have extended his life, but those plans may have given me an opportunity to visit Papa safely without endangering his life.

One of my very close friends is currently dealing with the immigration system to bring their fiancee into the United States. Because we had a president who made everything personal, they have spent the last four years walking on eggshells, essentially tying their own hands out of fear that if they said or posted the wrong thing, they would have their entire attempt shut down. While a substantial amount of their immigration struggles have been due to rules put into place long before Trump, the problem has only been made worse by all of the extra baggage Trump brought to the table. There were times where the entire system would be shut down or where no one would take their case because it was all too unsteady and no one knew if it was even possible. Certainly didn't help that it was a same-sex couple struggling through all of this. All the problems with covid made the situation even worse.

I just know that it feels nice today. It feels nice to have a president who seems to be taking covid seriously. A president who seems like he would care about my family's loss. It feels nice to see that the White House contact form now has a drop-down menu to allow folks to select the pronouns that best represent them. It feels nice to have a president who doesn't take things personally and isn't petty as fuck.

That's all I've got. Now I'm crying thinking about losing Papa. We've got a long way to go and the problems we face certainly didn't start with Trump. I don't think that Biden will be a savior. I'm pretty damn sure he's just going to be another moderate Democrat. But, Jesus Christ, it's just nice to see a human in the White House again.

#me #my thoughts #tw: death

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 4 years

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All is Fair: Ch 11

Hi, Y’all! Thank you for being so patient and not giving up on this fic even though I have been egregiously late with updates. At best, my life is erratically populated with periods of leisure time and periods of hectic, soul-crushing work. I, like many of you, am in the midst of a forced period of leisure time, so you will probably see more frequent updates. I appreciate those of you who are willing to stick around to see what happens next, and I hope you are in good health. Tell me what you think! x

Discovery and Dissolution

Polly Gray sat in her Bentley, wrapped in fur. Through her dark glasses, she watched the scene on the street where Lia worked. The bitter north wind cut straight down the sidewalk in front of the library and sent patrons scurrying for shelter within. A cluster of people shuffled through the arched brass doors, and Lia stepped out. She was a vision in a blue cashmere long coat, a mink collar clutched around her neck. The wind caused her coat to flap and play peek-a-boo with leather boots that stretched up to her knees. Both items were gifts from Tommy, Polly surmised. She noticed that Lia still wore an older pair of wool gloves. Guess he couldn’t think of everything.

Despite the cold, Lia wore a little smile as she walked along. She’d been hard at work referencing and cross-referencing research with a professor of Art History at the University of Birmingham, and he was pleased with the help she’d given him. He had mentioned working with her again in the near future. Lia had come a long way from shelving books. She was beginning to realize the kind of life she had only dreamed was possible when she first came to Birmingham. As she neared the corner, though, she was pulled out of her thoughts when she noticed familiar-looking woman in a posh car was watching her.

Polly lowered her window and called out, “Lia, Lia Montrose!”

Lia slowed down and warily approached the car. Polly extended a sumptuously gloved hand, looked over her sunglasses at Lia, and introduced herself, “Polly Gray…Tommy’s Aunt Polly.”

Lia visibly relaxed and took her hand at those words, “Mrs. Gray…I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Get in, it’s time we got acquainted.”

In a matter of minutes, Lia found herself sitting in the kitchen at No. 6 Watery Lane while Polly found two cups and put the kettle on. She then reached into the cupboard where she found a tin of tea. Upon opening it and sniffing the contents, she decided that it would do. Decked head to toe in Parisian tailor-made garments, she looked odd moving around the kitchen with such familiarity.

While they waited for the kettle to boil, she offered Lia a cigarette and lit one of her own. They’d spoken hardly a word since they entered the house. Lia was loathe to break the silence with small talk, so she waited for Polly to say what was on her mind. They sat, smoking and soaking in the dusty quiet of the dimly lit room.

Only when Polly poured the tea did she finally speak. “I brought you here so that you could see where Tommy lived...where we all lived before the money came.”

Lia looked all around the room and smiled, “So this is where Tommy began.”

Polly waved her hand with a flourish and laughed, “Who knows where Tommy began. If I hadn’t witnessed his birth I’d swear that he was flung out of heaven and barred from hell.”

Lia smiled knowingly, “Well, Lucifer was a fallen angel.”

“Exactly.” Polly raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the rickety chair. “I want you to understand why Tommy is,” she searched for the right words and finding none she continued, “the way he is.”

Memories flooded Polly’s mind as she looked all around herself, gesturing here and there with the hand that held her cigarette. “Look around you, Lia. This is where we moved when things got better. You don’t want to know where we lived before when things were worse.”

Lia swallowed hard and held her cup with both hands as if to draw every bit of heat out of it. She was suddenly cold. She had not grown up with much, but she was certainly comfortable. Her home had a lightness about it. The room where she sat with Polly was cozy, homey even, but the air was laced with soot and traces of despair.

“Does that explain why he is so driven?” Lia wondered aloud.

“Partly,” Polly mused. Then she looked at Lia with soft brown eyes, almost like she sympathized with her. She felt sorry for anyone who loved Tommy, even herself. “He has always been different. Clever and driven since the night he was born.” Then she looked away, “But he did have a big heart.”

Did.

It wasn’t Polly’s intention to make Lia uncomfortable or uncertain of her place in Tommy’s life, but Lia couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. Lia’s chair creaked as she shifted her weight and sat her teacup on the table, and Polly saw in her eyes a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before.

“We all had to make sacrifices to get where we are today, but Tommy has sacrificed the most. Business comes first. Always. Ada says that Tommy likes you, he may even grow to care for you, but there are certain things you will have to accept if you want to be with him...”

“So he has said,” Lia broke in. She immediately regretted cutting Tommy’s aunt off, though Polly showed no sign of being offended. She just sipped her tea and smiled.

“Has he said what he plans on doing with you when he returns to London, Dear?”

Lia winced a bit at the question. “No.”

There was silence between them again. A clock ticked out the seconds from the next room and the sounds of people shouting to each other in the street filtered through the walls. Having finished her tea, Polly lit another cigarette and let the quiet grow around them. She believed that you could learn a lot about a person by how they chose to deal with spaces in conversation, so she waited and watched.

Lia ruminated on Polly’s last question as long as she could, then stood and looked toward the parlor, silently asking permission to go in. Polly rose and accompanied her. Dusty furniture and photographs sat frozen in time as if they were waiting for Polly to run the sweeper or Ada to polish the tabletops. The fireplace sat waiting to be lit. But she couldn’t see Tommy until she looked up the shadowy stairwell. It was narrow, and she could barely see the top stair in the darkness, but something in the woodsy smell that drifted down reminded her of him. Polly caught the wistful expression on Lia’s face and placed her hand on Lia’s back.

“His room was up there,” Polly nodded.

Polly peered into the darkness and flipped a switch, then nodded in the direction of the stairs, inviting Lia to climb them.

***

The sleek grey Bentley rolled along Cannon Lane and splashed slush in its wake. Lia sat in back with a heavy woolen blanket wrapped around her legs. She made small talk with Rodney, the Blinder up front. Already, she knew that he had a fiancé and that they were to be married in June. His mum and dad were from Coventry, and they were both deceased. Also, Tommy had taken him under his wing as a boy of thirteen. Tommy kept him from starving and from, as Rodney put it, “…falling in with the worst sort of criminal element.” It seemed like everywhere she turned there was another person with a story about what Tommy had done to help them.

Rodney delivered her to her door, and eager to get out of the cold, Lia darted inside.

“Jenny, are you here?”

A few snowflakes floated to the floor while she hung up her coat and unbuttoned her mink lined gloves. She noticed that the kettle was on, and so she called out again.

“Jenny!”

Her cousin bounded down the stairs, pulling her arms through the sleeves of a cardigan as she came.

“Jesus, Lia!” she laughed. “Is the bloody house on fire?”

“I have news,” Lia beamed.

Jenny nodded her head and set about fixing tea, “Go on then. Tell me your news.”

“WE have the use of a car.”

Jenny froze and her heart sank. “Come again…”

“A car, Jenny! Tommy doesn’t like the idea of my riding the bus and walking to work, so he is sending a car ‘round for us every morning and afternoon. One of his men will drive us to and from work,” she enthused.

Jenny stood blinking at her for a moment then responded in a monotone voice. “A Blinder, Lia. ‘One of his men’ means a Blinder. I’d rather walk in the rain and snow.”

She turned her back to Lia and got out the plates, careful not to take her simmering mood out on the crockery. She tried her best to keep her distrust of Tommy out of her relationship with her cousin, but it was hard to keep things light when every other word out of Lia’s mouth was “Tommy”.

Jenny had taken quite a bit of flack at work because of Lia’s connection with Tommy Shelby. She’d had her fill with entering rooms full of chatter only to have them go silent, and she had dodged several sideways comments about her recent promotion. She hated to kill the mood, but someone had to be the voice of reason. Rolling up to work chauffeured by a flat cap wearing thug was more than she could tolerate.

Lia balled her fists and tried to modulate her voice as she asked, “Why do you hate him so much? Hmm? He is good to me and he wants to help you too.”

“Help? Is that what he calls it?” Jenny turned back around and eyed Lia’s obviously new and obviously bought by Tommy clothes. “If you want to play house with him and let him dress you up as his little doll that’s your business, but I won’t be ferried around town in a car that was paid for with blood money.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it. Our family weren’t always saints. Granddad was the first one in the queue to spunk away his wages on the horses and the last one out of the pub at night.”

“Right, and it was people like the Shelbys who were more than happy to take his wages off of him while Nan and our dads went shoeless.”

She had a point. Lia hated the fact that she had a point. Damn Jenny for always knowing how to snatch the stars from her eyes. Lia sat down and put her head in her hands to hide her tears. It was so easy to let Tommy do little things for her, to buy a scarf here and some gloves there, to make life easier for her in a thousand little ways. He never made her feel like it was payment for services rendered. How could Jenny take all of Tommy’s kindness and turn it into something dirty, something tainted and wrong? The gifts and the thoughtful things he did for her were not part of a transaction, they were just part of the way he liked to take care of her. She wished that for once Jenny could see the goodness in Tommy.

Since Aunt Polly had shown her the house and the betting shop where Tommy had launched his empire, she had a deeper understanding of him. Since she’d stood in his tiny bedroom where he had wrestled with the echoes of the tunnels and sweated through nightmares of poverty and war, she saw him through different eyes. She had grown to tolerate his last-minute cancellations and welcome him without pouting when he’d kept her waiting half the night.

Polly had opened her eyes to the man behind the façade in a way that he could never do himself. With that understanding, she opened herself up to the possibility of a life with Tommy. No, nothing about what happened between them was mercenary. Tommy just took care of people in his life. She was used to Jenny acting like an older sister and alerting her to pitfalls she had overlooked, but this was too much. The tears of frustration and despair that she had hidden behind her hands were becoming tears of rage. Over and over Jenny had proven that she wouldn’t ever approve of her relationship with Tommy, and Lia was finished with seeking her cousin’s approval.

She wiped her eyes and spoke through gritted teeth, “You know, Tommy has offered to let me stay in one of his properties near the library. Maybe it’s time to take him up on that offer. I’d hate for my reputation as the Shelby whore to rub off on you.”

Jenny put down the knife she’d been using to slice the bread. “Calm down. I didn’t say that…”

“But that is what you meant.” Her words came out clipped and cold. “I don’t want my reputation for sleeping with the Gangster of Parliament to ruin your chances with some nice mid-level clerk, so I’ll just move out.”

“No…don’t! I’m just worried about you. You are like my little sister and I’m afraid you’re riding for a fall. What happens when this is over?”

Lia abruptly stood and lashed out at Jenny, “Over?” Lia growled.

The word struck a chord of fear in Lia that made her dizzy. In an instant, all of her nights with Tommy, the taste of his sweat, the feel of his mouth, the smell of his sheets, flashed through her mind. She turned that fear into rage and took a step toward Jenny as she shouted, “I love him! That’s enough for me! Why can’t it enough for you?”

It was true. She loved him so much that it hurt. Her face was red and blotchy and her chest heaved with every breath. She was tired of fighting Jenny at every turn, and at that moment all she wanted was Tommy’s arms around her. She needed him so badly that she felt like she would fly into a million pieces without him holding her together.

Jenny took a step backward and bumped into the kitchen counter. Lia looked truly deranged. A realization came over Jenny like a wave. Lia was a different person now— a person who turned a blind eye to the ugly side of her man and made excuses for his shortcomings. It had been happening gradually over the last few months; the absent-minded dreamer that she had grown up with had disappeared. Back then, no matter how far out Lia got Jenny was always the voice of reason who could reel her back in, but Lia wasn’t listening to her anymore. This was different.

There seemed to be no turning back. Jenny knew that she had already said too much, but couldn’t resist a parting shot as she headed for the stairs. “Love? How can you love him when the only things you have in common are each other?”

Even as Jenny said it, she wondered if it was true.

***

Tommy and Arthur were sitting opposite each other at Tommy’s desk in their shirtsleeves talking about horses. Arthur had put too many logs on the fire and the room was like an oven. It was past the close of business and they should have been heading home, but they had lately taken to staying for drinks a couple of nights a week. Arthur would tell stories about Billy and the chickens, and Tommy had even opened up a bit about Lia. Arthur was cursing the heat and rolling up his sleeves when they heard someone pounding at the door.

“You expecting company?” Arthur asked in his rough, whiskey soaked Brum.

Tommy ran the tip of his tongue along his teeth and shook his head, “No.”

They stood and Arthur made his way toward the door, his hand on his pistol.

“Who’s there?” he boomed.

A muffled voice called, “Lia Montrose. I need to see Tom…Mr. Shelby.”

Arthur turned in his brother’s direction and feigned seriousness. ”Shall we let her in, Tommy?”

Tommy rolled his eyes and huffed, “Open the fookin’ door; it’s freezing out there.”

Lia entered the building shaking snow from her disheveled hair and stamping the slush from her boots. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and her eyes were a bit watery from the wind. She imagined that she looked a fright, but Arthur thought she looked like an angel.

Arthur stood there looking her up and down while she tried not to gawp at the pistol hanging loosely under his arm until Tommy cleared his throat and began to make introductions.

“Lia, this is my brother Arthur. Arthur, Lia Montrose.”

Arthur straightened up and offered to take her coat. As he hung it on the rack, he smiled a bit too broadly and said, “Tommy has told me a lot of nice things about you.”

Tommy knew that something was wrong because he and Lia hadn’t planned on seeing each other until the weekend. After a few pleasantries, Tommy stared at Arthur until he made his excuses and left.

Chills shook her body; she was shaking like a leaf, so Tommy took her by the hand and led her into his office where a fire roared and two glasses of whiskey were already waiting. He sat her down on his desk and took a seat in front of her, all the while rubbing the warmth back into her arms and hands. She looked down into his crystalline eyes and tried to find the words to say what she’d come for. At that moment, she was ever so grateful that Tommy knew how to take his time with her. He would wait until she was ready to talk.

She finished her first glass of whiskey and leaned into him. She breathed deeply and sighed, feeling better already simply for having him there to hold her.

“I don’t know what to do,” she mumbled into his collar.

“About…” he prompted her while stroking her head.

She sat back up and his hands went to her thighs rubbing slow, soothing circles over her skirt. She watched his hands and thought about what Jenny had said. She didn’t know very much about him, other than what they did together. Hell, she only just met his brother. His business dealings were a mystery and she had learned more about him from the papers than from his own words. So what if she became breathless around him? So what if her tummy fluttered every time he entered the room? Surely there was more to love than the helpless infatuation she felt for him.

Tommy lay his head in her lap and wrapped his arms around her hips thinking that maybe she would be able to tell him what was wrong if his eyes weren’t watching her. She ran her fingers through his hair and took a deep breath.

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“Is that right?” Tommy whispered.

Lulled by the sensation of her fingernails on his scalp, he could feel the knots in his shoulders loosen. He was trying his best to be attentive to her needs, but his mind drifted to what he’d like to do with her on his desk.

“Jenny and I had an awful row… the worst one we’ve ever had,” she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and went on, “I can’t live with her anymore.”

That got his full attention.

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fiction #Tommy Shelby #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #all is fair

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 5 years

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What We Did, pt.22

Summary: After finding out you were pregnant, Bucky agrees to help you leave the hero life. The two of you go to Seattle, and hamper down for six months until you start dreaming of a certain someone. Convinced the dreams are a sign, you and Bucky go back to New York. Will everyone be happy to see the pair of you? What questions will they have? And will the lie Bucky and you made up finally resurface?

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my main bitch @childishhoebinoo again. THIS IS A BIT SHORT, SORRY!

Warnings: //cheating//pregnancy//ADULT STUFF//

masterlist

Chapter Twenty-Two : 50/50

Nothing was going to be perfect, you realized that as you sat on the living couch trying to fold onesies damn near a break down. Your belly was swollen, back was aching and a headache had made a permanent residence of your temples. Frustration built as the onesie you folded flopped open and you grunted, throwing it across the room. Leaning back into the cushion, you rubbed a hand up and down your stomach, questioning everything you had every done thus so far in your life; the baby was due in mere weeks now, but there was so much on your mind. No one, except Tony and Pepper, had come around; the pair had visited a month ago to bring over some last-minute baby supplies because you had opted out for a baby shower. Besides, it would have be awkward with a bunch of dudes and Pep.

And then there was Clint.

You had promised yourself that the baby came first, but lately, as the due date neared, he was constantly on your mind. Bucky and you had gone through the birthing process, and he was the one you wanted beside you – holding your hand and encouraging you, he was the one you wanted to hear the baby’s first cries with, but Clint had his place it all of it too. Except, you had to think of Laura. That was why you had reached out, three days ago.

Bucky was upstairs assembling a bookshelf for the baby’s room, because he had come across an article that talked about the importance of reading to children, even infants. He was sweet like that.

Moving into the kitchen, you stood by the sink, looking out the window to the backyard. The phone rang against your ear and apart of you hoped Laura wouldn’t pick up – and she hadn’t. Taking a deep breath, you waited until the call went to voicemail and then you talked.

“Laura, it’s Y/N. I know I have no right calling you like this and I know you asked me to stay away,” you stated quietly, a lump in your throat causing you to pause. Somehow this felt harder than coming face to face with her. “It’s just…the baby is arriving soon, and you know your husband more than anyone in the world, he’s going to want to be there. I need to know what you want, do I let him come to the birth? I know it’s a lot to put on you.”

Again, you paused, this time feeling tears streaming down.

“Just say the word and I’ll make sure he doesn’t come, and I’ll tell him it’s all me. I just want you to have the final say. Call me back when you’re ready.”

The house was quiet as you got up from the couch, headed to the kitchen for a snack. Bucky would be home soon, he started picking up early morning shifts because the store was slower than. He figured if the baby decided to come in the morning, he could easily leave without putting the manager in a bad spot since there was always another employee working with him. It was sweet, Bucky was a sweet man; constantly at your side making sure you had everything a person could possible need – it made you feel love.

You grabbed a string cheese, leaned against the counter and took a bite right off the top; you had no time to string the damn cheese, you were too hungry for that. Nibbling away, the frustration left with each bite and your body relaxed as the baby moved around; seemed like his leg was hitting up against your back. Finishing up the cheese, you threw the plastic in the rubbish and started back toward the living room just as your cell began to ring.

It was on the coffee table and when you picked it up, you saw that it was Laura’s number – suddenly, the cheese tasted spoiled in your throat as you aid hello, voice trying to remain steady waiting for an answer.

“It’s Clint.”

“Jesus,” you muttered in relief, falling onto the couch.

“You thought it was Laura, huh?” He chuckled lightly and explained that she was not ready to talk to you directly. “She still has some reservations.”

“Understandable, how are you guys?” It was a question you had no business asking, but a selfish part of you wanted to know if only for your own relief. Here you were in a wonderful home with a wonderful man and the Barton’s homestead was in shambles because of something you had done.

“I’m back at home, the kids think I was working. Laura and I have been trying to work past things, she wants to make it work. She told me about the message you left her…”

“I’m sorry – “

“-no, no. Don’t be sorry, we sat down and had a long talk, and we decided it would be best if I was there for the birth. I was there for all my kids; this doesn’t make a difference. Also, we talked about it and I think 50/50 shared custody once he’s old enough would be fair, we have an extra room…”

He continued to explain all the plans Laura and he had come up with as you sat quietly, feeling the cheese curding in the pit of your stomach.

You were speechless – 50/50 shared custody?

Laura was onboard?

Everything was hitting you hard, the fact that Laura was willingly to accept your son in Clint’s life changed everything but only one person came to your mind and that was Bucky. Laura and Clint were married and by that technicality, she sort of had a say in things – in a way. The Barton’s were a unit, you knew how they worked and that just left Bucky – he wasn’t the baby’s biological father and he wasn’t your husband – in a law of court, he would be just a third party that got no say and that freaked you out.

“Clint,” you snapped, interrupting him as he rambled on about different paint colors. He stopped talking and asked if something was wrong and you said yes. “This is a lot to process, the baby is due a few weeks, can we talk about all this after he comes?”

He let out a low ‘oh’ and you quickly perked up your voice, telling him it was just that you were really tired and all you could think about was getting ready for the baby. “I promise we’ll talk about everything eventually, okay?”

Clint was quiet for a moment until he agreed. “I’m happy we’re going to figure this all out, thank you.”

“Of course,” you whispered, hand on the top of your belly. “I need to go now; I have to pee.”

He laughed and promised to get in touch soon; the two of you said goodbye and when you hung up, you leaned further back into the couch cushion, hoping it would suck you in. You tossed the phone to the other end of the couch and placed both feet up on the coffee table; reaching for the remote hoping to find a movie to keep your mind off things. Twenty minutes into some Lifetime movie, you couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky and his role in this whole circus – you wanted him to be a part of the decisions or have an equal position like Laura, and there was only one way to do that.

And as if on cue, Bucky called out as he walked through the front door. You sat up just as he sauntered into the living room, green apron from the hardware store still on – his hair was pulled back behind his ear and when he saw you, he smiled wide and asked how you were doing, holding up the take out he had brought along with him.

Getting up, you turned to him and smiled. “Let’s get married.”

…

Forever tags:

@theweirdlunatic @supernaturallymarvellous @dancewaterdance02@yeahbutmarvel @infinity1321

@my-amazing-nerdyness @naih-reedus @maciiiofficial @casownsmyass @jade-taillia @fangirlextraordinaire @indominusregina @feelmyroarrrr @my-rainbow-wonderland @myhopeisinfinite @girl-next-door-writes @melonberri @superisatomboyuniverse@dracsgirl @moonlight53 @makemyownwonderland @dreamwhisper87 @trekken81 @barely-emily@milkywaybarnes @goodnightwife @mishaissocoollike @foreverybodythatunderstands23 @gallifreyansass @flirtswithdanger

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@takemetoneverland91 @to-pick-ourselves-up-7 @sarah-mos @rubynationwins @padfootorionblack @kaywolves @wonderlace19 @courtneychicken@rayleyanns @whatmakesmebeme-tblr @thewinterwitch @avengersgirllorianna@tatortot2701@brewsthespirit-blog @seabasschino @ex-bookjunky @travelwithwords@supernaturaldean67@thehuntchback @shoytai @besamiculo-puto @ign-is @zuni21798 @multipleuniversesinwriting @lauxeyson

@pleasantdreamqueen @damalseer @10kindsofderp @hennessy0274-blog @jodoethr @s-t-r-i-k-e-us @seeing-but-not-observing @happyskywhale @peekingsunshine@sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @cinema212 @geeksareunique @hercrazyfandomobsession @wildefire @sashavis @nosleeptillbucky @grace-for-sale @someonekindalikeyou @space-helen@sorenmarie87 @wickedsingularity @steve-rogers-personal-hell @wintersire @whatshernamemaria @theheadcanonsawakens

@iminlovewithasuperboy @loverbug1123 @sugerquill @starmission @pineapplebooboo @justanotherfangirl272 @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @liamssmiler @ludwigs-a-monster @mad-girl-without-a-box @k8tie-a-934 @dr-pepper-only @allltheships @showtimeaholess @thxsoldixrrolxplay @esoltis280 @bass-clarinette @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @dsakita @cwar1864 @theonlyparadox @faithtrustandpixiedust95 @theweirdlunatic

@marvhellove @kjs-s @aredlily @sami-raye @lucifersnipnips @feelmyroarrrr @darkshadow3492 @lianasparklezstuff @ajduurikscjsja @morgan-atr @theflowerswillbloom @coffee-stained-tongue @lowkeyxloki @cannonindeez @astro-sim-dog @fireboltrose7559 @iridescent-gxmora

@slither-in-a-half @fangirlftshipper @lost-in-the-stories @maheelumos123 @nurnwasburned-nowimhomeless @shamelessbookaddict @stevieboyharrington @princess76179 @the-criminal-soldier @tylerrose931617 @danicalifonia25 @an-enchantingmuse @sheridans-dynamos @problematic-artist @fatefellshortthistime @ilovetvshowsblog @piensa-bonito @sourwolf-sterek32 @crazyinspiration @malfoysqueen14 @drakelover78 @lucifersnipnips

What We Did tags: @the-yellow-girl96 @marvelouspottering @ravenclawrious @izzy10718 @castiels-sunflowers @joannie95 @crystlblu @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @canadianjelly @clockscountingbackwards @smollyssa @multifandomgirlrandomstuff @hazydespair @affabletimelady @daughterofthenight117 @star-incandescent @lost-in-the-stories@buckysboobear @bbkay7297-blog @theblueinyour-eyes

@butifulsoul125 @joebob24 @wowkenobi @vogueworthy-barnes @projectxhappiness @sarahp879 @mrshiddlesbatchstan @racheltheclumsy @insanitypledge @ayatimascd @mizzzpink @stangirl4eva @my-meant-to-find-blog @a–1–1–3 @coltcas @anon122010ns @loverontheweekend

@quietgeekygirl @asgardianmetalarmedtimelord @elevenismysweetie @the-lachrymose-one @queeeenofscots @huburtle @caseoffics @fucknpurplegrape @socialheartbreak @pebblesz892 @hiddeninthenightsky @ashkuuuu @justreadingfics @k-n-e @black-hats-cats-bats@midnightdream83 @shirukitsune @kcd15 @thenightshadequeen @bloodyproudpotterhead @chuuulip @dontneedbiologytoadopt @denise1605 @colie87 @marydragneell

#What We Did series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel au #bucky barnes #marvel imagine

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syms-things-5 · 4 years

Text

Clear The Area

Warning: Not explicit (yet); some mild language. This has been quite cathartic in a way.

Summary: 29-year-old nurse Sarah Bernette has worked hard to get where she is. Moving to Boston from a nowhere dump of a town, she’s studied hard and is grateful her stress is finally paying off. Despite being fostered repeatedly throughout her childhood, she’s since found some comfort in the form of her adopted parents, Jocelyn and Noah, and a pseudo-adoptive family of sorts in form of the Evans clan who have treated her as one of her own ever since she moved in with best friend, Shanna. Valuing them above all else, she appreciates their support even more when her long lost birth mother decides to reappear in her life after so many years, and is surprised to find out just how supportive Chris is in particular. As she struggles to maintain a firm grip on both her professional and private lives, she finds an ill-advised solace in her growing mutual attraction with him but how long before everything unravels and threatens to pull the rug out from underneath her?

Note: I have two chapters written and will post ‘Chapter Two’ at some point this weekend to get things moving. I apologise for my spelling/grammar errors. Let me know if there is something wildly incorrect here and I’ll change it. Still figuring out a few things and I expect this will be a slow burn but it’s exciting to finally get off my arse and…sit down and write.

CHAPTER ONE

Today was probably a 4 out of 10.

4.5 if she was feeling generous.

Sarah thought about the decisions she had made in the past decade that lead her right to this moment, this moment being cleaning neon-coloured vomit off her scrubs for the second time in the past hour.

“You would think people would have learned downing shots of Absinthe was not a great idea by the time they’d left their teens,” snickered Audrey before shooting her a sympathetic look and handing over another wipe. “I can’t believe how green it was. It looks like you got punked by the Marshmallow Man!”

“Thanks for that.” Sarah was scrubbing as hard as she could while internally questioning her decision to pursue Nursing all those years ago. Her History teacher once told her she could have “a decent stab” at becoming a Middle School teacher if she applied herself right. Right now, she could be knee-deep in teaching half-interested kids about the 27 Amendments without an ounce of sick in sight. Instead, she was baffled. “Fuck. It’s practically luminous…”

This must have been payback for pushing herself as a teenager. Being fostered in and out of care homes during your formative years could turn you one way or the other, and Sarah chose “the other”. She was sure the universe was telling her she should have stayed put and been happy with her lot in life, in her too-small town with no feasible job prospects, where everyone knew you and held that against you, instead of moving halfway across the country with next to no money to study at a University she couldn’t afford and would most likely be in debt to for the next twenty years. Now, however, she got to convince local drunks that climbing on to roofs was, in fact, not a great idea despite the bet they had made with their “friends”. On a good day, she got to help children pick out the colours for their plaster casts.

Or take today. Today, she got to lecture a group of young people about the trials and tribulations of playing “run the bus” with 60% proof. Every day was just a little bit different so as to keep things interesting. That, she reminded herself, was something she had to remain glad about.

She sighed and threw the last wipe in the bin. Taking a last look in the mirror, she turned to her friend for reassurance that she looked at least passable. She caught her frown before Audrey realised Sarah could see her and quickly gave her a thumbs up. She did love her Audrey which is why she decided to repay her kindness by forcing a hug on her as a thank you.

“Silver lining, though,” Audrey said, shoving her away, laughing in protest. “You’re lucky you didn’t get any in your hair.”

“Yeh bastards had a good aim at least.” Sarah dusted down her arms one last time to check for anything she might have missed and the two of them left the locker room. The place was now eerily quiet, thank god. Just run out the clock and they’d be home and dry in no time, figuratively speaking in Sarah’s case.

Audrey placed a comforting arm around her pal. “You want me to find some spare scrubs? I’m sure they’ll have some upstairs. It’ll only take a minute.”

“Nah it’s OK. I’ll be done in 20. Just gotta sign Mr. Richardson out from cubicle 5 then I’ll run home and shower.”

“OK, well, if you have to hang around, avoid triage because you-know-who is there and I don’t want you ruining your chances again.” Audrey pinched Sarah on her hip and headed back to her work.

You-know-who was Greg Anderson, an attractive 30-something medic from a hospital on the other side of town. He was up-and-coming in Paediatrics apparently and had been shadowing a Consultant for the past few weeks. He was 6ft plus with dark hair and brown eyes and his father was something big in Economics in MIT. He drove a Porsche and wore Louboutin’s on his rounds which had Audrey practically foaming at the mouth. Indeed, he hadn’t bypassed the attentions of the majority of females in the ER, as well as a few men and even a couple of patients but as always, Sarah was solely focussed on the job at hand to pay him any heed. Audrey thought she caught him staring at her the other week, though, and made it her mission to set them up. She took great pride in playing matchmaker for her friend given that she herself got locked down nine years earlier and “it’s a damn shame to let these skills go to waste.’ She had somehow also managed to get Shan and Lisa onside, too, however that had happened.

Greg was handsome, she’d agree with that, and definitely her type in the right light but something was a little too Republican for her liking. Plus, he was a Rangers’ fan and Sarah swore blind early on in her life that she couldn’t bring children up in that kind of hostile environment. Sarah briefly contemplated walking past triage with the lingering scent now clinging to her clothes but as Audrey kindly repeated to her at regular intervals during the days, Greg was her only realistic prospect right now and figured it was perhaps better to keep her options open, at least for the time being.

Mr. Richardson was gone pretty soon afterwards and, accepting defeat for another day, Sarah grabbed her bag and headed home.

There was definitely beer left in the fridge, she was sure of it. She’d bought a six-pack at the weekend and could only remember drinking two during the Bruins’ game, so…

“Oh yeh, you’re out of beer.”

Sarah turned around from the fridge to face a sheepish looking Chris holding the last frosted bottle in his hand, his ball cap low over his face attempting to hide the faint black circles under both his eyes. There was a 5 o’clock shadow forming now he wasn’t required to shave. As drained as she was, she briefly contemplated wrestling him to the ground for that last swig. He looked just as tired. She figured she could take him. At least he had the decency to look guilty about it.

“I’ll run out and get you some if you…Jesus! Why do you smell like a brewery?!” He practically recoiled holding his free hand to his nose.

Sarah rolled her eyes and grabbed a glass for some cold water instead. “Are you here to just annoy me or steal my beer as well?”

“Both now you ask but seriously, what have you been doing all day? You don’t usually smell this bad.” He joked.

“Oh, some kids took it in turns to throw up on me and I didn’t have any clean scrubs to change into.” She downed the water and went to fill the glass up again. God, she didn’t realise she was this dehydrated. Chris shot her a look of confusion. “It’s a long story. Is Shan around?” She shed herself of her scrub top and headed into her bedroom down the hallway, Chris casually following behind.

She had to pop out for something so I’m just handing here ‘til she gets back. You coming for dinner at Ma’s? She’s doing her famous lamb roast. Might wanna shower first, though.” He joked, playfully sticking his tongue out at her.

“God, I forgot how hilarious you are.” she overtly rolled her eyes at him. “No, I’m good. Just gonna head for an early night, I think.”

“OK, well, if you change your mind, we’re leaving in half an hour. You know she’ll make me drive back to get you otherwise.”

That was true. For as long as she’d known and lived with Shanna, Lisa had treated her like any other member of her family and Sarah had never fully grasped how much she had appreciated it, coming from where she did. Lisa knew Sarah’s folks weren’t as close by any more and compensated for this by inviting to every dinner night she held, every games night, school events, theatre events, and more besides. She spent Christmases with them, visited Disney with them, and had New Years with them on occasions she wasn’t working. Lisa even organised a surprise birthday get-together for her as well despite Shan’s protests that she wasn’t a birthday kind of person. Sarah had learned to stop feeling awkward or out of place soon after.

Once Shan told Lisa Sarah had wanted to start learning to play piano as a new year’s resolution, Lisa had insisted she could teach her whenever she had some spare time. There soon after followed afternoons of tea and gossip and not much playing of the piano but it felt comfortable and nice for the first time in a long time. Shan would make excuses so Sarah didn’t feel obligated to attend everything but in truth, she didn’t mind so much. It was nice to feel wanted.

Chris was lounging on her armchair with one leg over the armrest, messing on his phone. Sarah could count the number of times on one hand the nights he had spent in his own place since returning to Boston a fortnight ago. As true as it was that he rarely spoke about filming in any great detail, she could nevertheless tell he’d been left particularly drained by this particular experience and wasn’t looking forward to the reshoots scheduled for next month. There had been a rumour he’d started sleeping with his married co-star and she guessed Lisa had been mithering him about it hence him turning up on their doorstep last week. Other than one night back in his own bed, he had remained on their sofa ever since, clearly relishing in the familiar company.

“So what made those kids throw up?” Chris called out, still engrossed in his phone. A quick glance over his shoulder told her he’d been ignoring someone’s text messages.

By now Sarah was in her old yet comfy sweatpants and a Boston hoodie Shan had bought her as an anniversary present of her 5th year living there. “Um, Absinthe. The nasty kind.” She was gathering her washing together.

Chris whistled low through his teeth, a kind of “been there, done that”.

“Rookie mistake.“ he laughed to himself. He frowned at his phone before chucking it onto her bed and turned around in her chair to plant both feet on the carpet, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. He looked like he wanted to get something off his chest but was struggling to find the words. He was reluctant to drag Sarah into anything given how exhausted she looked. Despite their differences in careers, sometimes it felt like she was the only person he knew who could understand how long and tiresome the days could get. Then he would inevitably feel embarrassed he was out there only pretending to save lives when she was out there day after day actually living it for real in all of its bloody glory. And for a tiny fraction of his pay. He tried not to water than thought too much.

“I take it you know,” he asked quietly, still not looking up from her bedroom floor.

“Know what?”

“About Jenny?”

“Oh,” she paused for a brief second. He’d know straight away she was lying if she tried to play dumb. “I mean your mom might have mentioned something in passing,” she shrugged unconvincingly. He scoffed knowing she would have talk about nothing else since the rumours started gathering pace online. He knew he hadn’t done himself any favours by avoiding the conversation either but he simply couldn’t stand another lecture of disapproving look. Dinner tonight was to be his mea culpa.

Sarah was thankful when she heard the front door go and then the sound of Shan dropping her bags in the kitchen and heading towards Sarah’s room.

“I signed for this for you this morning while you were out.” she handed Sarah a brown envelope before turning to Chris with a hand on her hip, looking like she was scolding her 7-year old nephew. “Mom’s been trying to get hold of you all day. She wasn’t sure if she needed to lay an extra seat for you this evening. Sarah, she wanted me to make sure I couldn’t persuade you to come as well?” Sarah shook her head and held up her stained clothes and enjoyed Shan’s visible flinch.

“I’m not even going to ask.” She held her hands up and walked out. Chris rolled his eyes in mock imitation of Shan and Sarah smiled sympathetically, mouthing a “good luck” to him as he left trailing behind her.

Sarah was left looking down at the envelope in her hands. It looked very official; the kind you would receive if you’d been summoned to a court hearing or Jury Duty. She didn’t recognise the address or the stamp but recognised her home town almost straight away. It had been years since she’d been there. Why the hell were they dragging her back now?

#Chris Evans #Sarah Bernette #Chris Fic #Fan Fiction #Clear The Area #chris evans x original female character #Syms Writing

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hazeofhearts · 5 years

Text

Dodging A Bullet (Alexei x reader)

Warning: Swearing, sexual themes, Alexei cuteness

Italic words are Russian.

1973

You stood on your doorstep, face downcast and tears welling in your eyes. Out of all the goodbyes you’d delivered, this was the hardest. The one for Alexei.

Russia was a dangerous country for your family, as your father was a very prominent figure in politics. He could not walk down the street without someone trying to murder him or any of his family members.

So, he had received relief in the United States witness protection program. Your family’s new identities existed and were ready to go. All you had to do was safely leave the country without anyone finding you.

You ran a hand through Alexei’s curly hair, wild and unruly as it was. You’d called him early this morning and it appeared he’d jumped right out of bed, not even bothering to brush his hair. Alexei covered your hand with his where it was on his head, his eyes wide and sad.

“I wish I could take you with me,” you said, blinking as a lock of hair was whipped by the wind from under your fur hat.

“I wish I could come with you. I’d want nothing more,” Alexei whispered.

“I want to give you my new address but Papa says I can’t. That defeats the whole purpose of relocating and being safe.”

Alexei let a tear slide down his face and you started bawling. You buried your head in his chest and he held you tight.

“My brave boy, how will I survive without you! I will never make it a year without seeing your face.”

“No, no, my love. You must go on. I will find you. I promise.”

You hugged Alexei close to you, squeezing as hard as possible.

“Indiana,” you whispered in his ear before you separated from him.

He looked ready to question you but before he could, you pressed your lips to his passionately. He wrapped his arms securely around your waist, picking you up off the ground just a little bit.

Your mother called your name and you separated from Alexei, making careful eye contact with him.

“Indiana,” he muttered back and you nodded.

You stepped away from him, your hand still holding his. Your mother called your name again. You pulled away with one final tug, your hand falling to your side.

“I love you,” you said quietly so your parents couldn’t hear. You were sixteen and in their eyes, there was no such thing as love for someone so young.

“I love you,” Alexei responded, mourning clear in his voice.

You moved toward the car and slid in, turning around to watch Alexei get farther and farther away until he was only a dot on the horizon.

12 years later

You groaned at the sound of your alarm, smacking it off your bedside table. The same dream about Alexei again. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and sat up.

There, on your dresser across from your bed, was a framed picture of the same boy that plagued your dreams. It was taken on your one year anniversary, one month before you had to move.

Your eyes were on the camera while Alexei’s eyes were on you. You both were smiling and hugging each other underneath a black umbrella. The sincere love in Alexei’s eyes made you cry almost every day because you’d never been able to move on. You’d never been able to find someone who looked at you like that and you were sure you never would.

You showered and ate a quick breakfast before dressing in your uniform and heading off to work.

You had been in the town of Hawkins long enough that most people had forgotten that you’d moved to town with your family instead of being born there. Therefore, it was quite easy to get a job with the police when you’d wanted one after graduating from college. You were out in the field a lot, protecting others that couldn’t protect themselves and it was your favorite part of the day.

You had just returned home for lunch when a knock came at the door. You opened it to reveal your boss, Chief Jim Hopper, Joyce Byers and someone else you couldn’t see, proven by the tufts of hair peaking out.

“Hey there, Y/N. Can we come in?”

“Uh, sure, Chief. Who’s that?”

“Some Russian we found while investigating. Sorry we didn’t take you with us. Once we got the locations of places, we just sort of went.”

“It’s totally fine! Come on in.”

You turned and trailed into your home, letting them follow behind you. You heard a small scuffle but thought nothing of it. Going into your kitchen, you poured some peanuts into a bowl, poured four drinks and placed them all on a tray to carry out to your guests.

“Sorry I don’t have a lot on hand. I made due with what I could.”

You looked up at the three people in your living room as you set down the tray. Joyce looked frazzled as all hell, Hopper looked about ready to pass out and-

“Lyosha?!”

Alexei looked up startled before an extreme range of emotions crossed his face. Confused, surprised and overjoyed were just a few. He stood and ran as best he could in handcuffs, stopping in front of you.

“Alexei, it must be too good to be true. Is it really you, my love,” you said, tears flowing down your cheeks. Alexei raised his handcuffed hands and caressed your cheek.

“It’s me! It’s me. I can prove it. Must I prove it?”

“No, no. You don’t need to prove anything. I can tell it’s you. Your hair hasn’t changed,” you responded with a wet giggle. Alexei leaned forward and kissed your tear stained cheeks and held your hands.

“Does anybody want to tell me what the hell is going on,” Hopper queried from your couch.

You shy away from Alexei, suddenly embarrassed about your reunion. You guide him back to the couch and go off to get the only remaining picture you have of your past.

******

Half an hour later, Joyce is rubbing your back as you conclude your story. Hopper is sitting in front of you, rubbing his beard with his hand, your picture in the other. He’s staring at you intently. Alexei is as well and you can’t look at it for more than five seconds without becoming flustered.

“Witness Protection Program?”

“Yes. I’m technically not supposed to tell you and I have no way of making you believe me but, it’s the truth.”

Hopper set down your government forged birth certificate and other legal documents. He stood and paced around the living room for a second. Alexei stretched across your coffee table and grasped your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles.

“Don’t worry my love. Everything will be alright.”

“You didn’t even understand anything I said,” you snarked back, a grin creeping over your face.

“And I’m just supposed to believe that this is an accident?”

Hopper gestures between you and Alexei.

“Chief, if I had been a spy at sixteen, I’m sure you’d have been able to tell. You were here when I moved into town!”

Hopper sighed and stared at you again. You tried to look as sincere as possible but you didn’t know how as you really were telling the truth.

“I need a minute.”

Hopper stepped out of the living room and you could hear him leave through the front door. Joyce followed after a moments pause, motioning for the two of you to stay. Once she left the room, you turned to Alexei.

“How long have you been here?”

“A year,” Alexei said, a twinge of shame in his voice .

“A year?! How could you have been here a year and never tried to find me?”

“It wasn’t that simple, my love, I swear to you. I was being kept under heavy surveillance. I was trusted with Soviet tech and was building weapons. If I had come here of my own choice, I would have searched high and low for you.”

You tapped your fingers against your knee before standing and going to the phone. Alexei made panicked noises behind you but you ignored him.

“Hi Flo! Yeah, I just had some family issues come up, I won’t be able to return to the station for the rest of the day. Thanks so much. I’ll definitely talk to Hopper.”

You hung up the phone and sat down next to Alexei. You took his hand in yours and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. His cheeks flushed quickly as he looked away nervously.

“Why are your lips red, Lyosha?”

“I had a cherry... Slurpee! It was really good. I want another one.”

You giggled and pressed your nose to his cheek, reveling in his warmth and the familiar contours of his body.

“If we make it out of whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into, I’ll buy you all the cherry Slurpees you want.”

Alexei hummed happily and pulled your closer to him. You were almost on his lap when Joyce and Hopper came back into the room.

“Alright, alright. Break it up, you two. Y/N, can we use your car?”

“My car,” you questioned, standing up.

“Yes.”

“What for?”

“Well, we took the car we used to get here. And I’m sure the people who are tailing us will know what it looks like.”

“Wait, wait,” you interrupted. “You have people tailing you and you led them to my house?!”

“Yes, I did. But if we ditch our car and take yours, they’ll be confused.”

“I’m sure that the people tailing you will remember your face.”

“Yeah they’ll also remember your little boyfriend so just lend us the damn car so we can go!”

Hopper’s outburst didn’t startle you but his mention of Alexei did. Your blood turned to ice. You turned to Alexei.

“What on earth have you been doing?”

Alexei kept silent.

“We don’t have time to talk. We need to go,” Joyce said gently, pulling you to the door.

“Wait, hold on.”

You rushed to your bedroom, shucking off your work khakis and button up shirt, trading them for jeans and a soft, white t-shirt tucked into them. You emerged again with your hair pulled away from your face and didn’t spare anyone a glance as you strode out the front door, tucking your gun in your waistband.

You heard Hopper shuffle Alexei along. You tossed your keys to him as you climbed into the back next to Alexei.

“No funny business back there, you two.”

“Jesus, Hopper,” Joyce muttered.

You linked your hand with Alexei’s on his lap. He looked to you with those same sad puppy dog eyes.

“They won’t hurt you, Lyosha. I promise.”

Alexei nodded slowly, his immense trust making your chest warm.

******

You had arrived at your destination and Alexei had been ripped from the back seat. You clambered after him and your boss as Hopper dragged him to the front door of a shady ass looking building.

“Hop, not that I don’t trust you, but where the fuck are we?”

He shushes you and pressed the buzzer.

A crackling voice comes over the intercom, telling you to state your full name. Hopper does for all of you in an exasperated tone you’re not used to. You’ve truly never heard him more irritated.

A dispute over Alexei’s last name almost made you speak up if a balding man wielding a shotgun didn’t suddenly open the door. You drew your gun immediately, holding it up to defend yourself.

“Get that out of my face, you bald American pig.”

“Lyosha!”

“I may be bald, but you’re the one in handcuffs, Soviet scum.”

You gulped.

“Hi, Jim,” the man said almost sheepishly.

You were led slowly into the man’s house, putting away your gun after Hopper nudged it. Suddenly you heard a whirring as the man scanned Alexei with a weird sort of metal detector.

Once again, you made a move to help when Hopper and then Joyce became involved. You kept silent, rubbing circles into Alexei’s back. The man who you now knew as Murray grabbed your arm as you walked past.

“Don’t think I’ve let my guard down with you. I heard you talk to him like that.”

“Hopper can explain it to you,” you said coldly, tugging your arm out of the man’s reach.

You sat next to Alexei on the couch and he brushed your shoulder with his hand. You smiled at him and laced your fingers with his.

Murray sat down on his chair and clasped his hands together.

“So, where do we begin?”

******

You jerked awake when someone nudged you.

“We’re going somewhere,” Alexei said to you. He helped you up with his now free hands. You separated from him soon after, as you remembered his difficultly to work with your team and his near escape. You walked to the car and as soon as you were in, Hopper sped off.

It wasn’t long before you stopped at the fair ground. Hopper and Joyce stepped out of the car and you hesitated.

“L/N, come on. You’re coming with us,” Hopper said.

You turned to Alexei and Murray, your heart rate spiking at the thought of leaving them alone. Even if you were upset with him, you just couldn’t leave Alexei.

“Don’t worry about them, come with us. We need another cop.”

You clasped Alexei’s hands in yours and looked him in the eye.

“Stay safe, Lyosha. I’ll come back soon. I love you.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips and got out of the car, keeping your eyes down and pace fast. Hopper and Joyce followed you.

“So,” Murray said. “You really do know each other.”

“Yes. She’s the love of my life.”

Hopper had put you on perimeter duty and it was as boring as it sounded, even as tense as you were. You didn’t know who you were supposed to be looking for. You knew he was big and he looked like the Terminator but that was it.

You hear a lot of cheering and a grown man’s laugh and you turned around to see Alexei at a dart balloon booth. You rushed to him quickly as he threw his last dart.

The man at the booth handed Alexei his Woody Woodpecker stuffed animal as you reached him.

“What are you doing, Alexei? You should be at the car!”

“I wanted to experience America! Murray is letting me experience American life to the fullest!”

The was a childish glimmer in his eyes and a cute pout on his lips.

“You still need to be careful, my brave boy,” you said, your eyes softening.

He nodded and looked over your shoulder.

“Ah, Murray!”

Alexei grabbed your hand and pulled you towards Murray where he was at a hot dog on a stick stand. Alexei stopped dead, pulling you back with him.

“Lyosha?”

“It’s him.”

You whipped your head around to see the Terminator. A real live Terminator in front of you. He pulled out a silencer gun and was loping towards you.

You turned and started running immediately, pulling Alexei behind you. You could hear him stumbling every once in a while and cursing. You were swerving between game booths and food stands, the sights and smells around you not doing their job of masking your panic.

You made it to a seclusion of trees at the edge of the fair and turned back to see the man nowhere in sight. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t close behind you though.

You found a tree with limbs close to the ground and motioned for Alexei to climb up first. He handed you his Woody Woodpecker and you pressed it to your face, the smell of dust and fried food permeating the fuzzy fabric. You passed the stuffed animal up and hoisted yourself into the tree onto a different branch.

“This way,” you whispered, motioning for Alexei to follow you as you walked across connecting branches.

“Fucking shit. How are you doing that?”

You giggled.

“Magic.”

You stopped once you were far enough away from your initial climb spot to survey the fair ground. There you tried your best to look for the Terminator. Somehow you found him, way in the distance, stepping into the fun house.

“Now’s our chance! Let’s run for it!”

You tried your best not to hurt yourself as you climbed down. Alexei dropped his Woody Woodpecker into your arms and then climbed down himself. You ran together for your car where Murray was waiting.

“Jesus Christ, you guys scared me!”

“Oh, I’m sorry! It’s not like we were running from a Russian assassin or anything,” you yelled at him as you threw yourself into the drivers seat. Alexei and Murray piled into the back seat and you skidded off to the fun house where you knew Hopper and Joyce would be.

You stopped just outside of the employee exit and bounced your leg anxiously. They indeed came out quickly and hopped in.

“How did you know we’d be here?”

“Saw the Terminator,” you said breathlessly as you revved your engine and sped to Starcourt mall.

******

You sat in the back of an ambulance, keeping gentle conversation with Will Byers until his mom found him. Alexei was loitering on your other side, holding his stuffed animal tightly and refusing to speak to anyone.

Will saw his mom and pushed off from the ambulance, leaving you and Alexei alone.

“So,” you began.

“So?”

“So, now that you’re free and everyone else has been arrested, what are you going to do,” you asked.

“Stay by your side, if you’ll let me,” Alexei responded.

You looked to Alexei, your cheeks warm.

“That sounds like a good idea to me. But I don’t think we should stay here in Indiana.”

“Well, what did you have in mind, my love?”

One year later

You gasped as Alexei bit the sensitive spot on your neck and licked it, his lips smiling on your skin. Your hands were tangled in his mussed up hair and pulled every so often.

You ground your hips into his, smirking at his choked breath. You were sitting in his lap, straddling his hips and pressing your chest to his. Your shirts had been tossed elsewhere in your apartment and you could tell that your pants were going to come next.

Alexei suddenly stood and hoisted you up onto his waist, your legs wrapping around him. He buried his face in your chest as he traipsed through your apartment, the California night air cooling your skin.

You were dropped on the bed and you giggled as Alexei pulled your pants off and let them drop to the floor. He climbed up on the bed and hovered over you. His goofy smile and fogged up glasses turning your heart to mush.

You took off his glasses, placing them on your nightstand. Alexei held your left hand up, kissing the diamond there on your finger. You brushed his hair behind his ear with the same hand.

“I love you, Alexei.”

“I love you too.”

Alexei descended on you once more, trailing kisses down your body. You squirmed as he moved further down your body, closer to the spot you wanted him to touch more than anything. His nose brushed the band of your underwear and he reached up and grabbed it with his teeth, snapping it back to your skin and making you flinch.

“Naughty,” you breathed out.

Alexei only chuckled, his breath fanning over your thighs.

A boom outside your window did not deter Alexei as he held you under him, making you moan and arch your body to his. Your hands were scrabbling for purchase on his toned back as he held your close to him. He moved your legs over his shoulders, a high pitched moan coming from your mouth as a result.

Alexei nipped your breast with his teeth, his tongue flicking out of his mouth to sooth the sore spot. He moved his head into the crook of your neck as his hands splayed across your lower back.

“Alexei,” you moaned.

Alexei moved your legs again and sat up so you were in the same position as on the couch, your legs spread and him between them.

He pressed a passionate kiss to your lips, his breaths becoming more ragged in your mouth. You tugged on his hair again and again as you swiveled your hips.

A loud firework shot off the same time as your synchronized release, shaking the walls as you had done to the bed frame.

Alexei moved to lay on his side, still inside you, and he wrapped his arms around your body.

“Happy Fourth of July, Lyosha.”

Taglist:

@gallymagines @morsescherryslurpeestand (I hope you don’t mind I tagged you 😅)

#hope cherrystand doesnt mind I tagged them #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things alexei #alexei smirnoff #alexei smirnoff x reader #alexei smirnoff x you

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