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princesspastel8 · 26 days

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Chapter 10

Third POV

Due to the indecent with Jeff, Tiffany has decided to add hours to Eboni's therapy sessions in hopes that the teen would open up as to what happened that night. Every day after school, Eboni is forced to endure four hours of more therapy.

To add salt to the wound, Tiffany has been watching the girl like a hawk. The woman decides to stay home while her husband Daniel is away on business. The foster mother wants to make sure Eboni is truly okay before she has to leave again for work. Tiffany has been picking Eboni up from school every day for the past week and a half, dropping her off at her therapy sessions as well- making sure the teen didn't miss any.

Eboni is currently staring at the clock on the wall of the room, watching the minutes pass slowly. "Thirty minutes left..." she thought to herself.

"Eboni. You have sat there for four hours and haven't said a word. You need to talk to me." Loraine, the therapist, pressed.

The teen ignores her as usual, frowning under her mask even though Loraine can't see her face. The silence causes the therapist to lose a bit of her patience.

"Your parents are paying a lot of money for you to be here. It would be a shame for that money to go waste Eboni." Loraine said sternly.

That caused the teen to send a rather chilling glare at the therapist. "They aren't my parents. They're just people who took pity on me for their own personal gain. My real parents are six feet under." Eboni snapped.

Loraine raised a brow, writing down on her clipboard, which irks the teen even more. "Talk about your parents. What are the latest memories of them?"

"Fuck off."

"Eboni Brown, you're making this harder on everyone around that's only trying to help you. Please be more considerate." The therapist tries to reason, her patience thinning.

"Loraine, was it? Look, I don't need a person with a piece of paper of their accomplishments to tell me how fucked in the head I am. Since this is a place of honesty why don't you start? You took this profession not to help people, but to stack loads of money in shorts amount of time. It's funny, taking a job that requires bucket loads of patience for their clients, yet you lack even an ounce of that."

The vein bulging from the therapist temple is hilarious to Eboni, but she holds in her laugh. Glancing at the clock, she notices her session is finally over. Eboni stands, placing her hood over her head and hands in her pockets. The teen walks to the door, giving another glance towards Loraine.

"Since you didn't deny anything I said, how about instead of asking me pointless shit you just sit there and think of the money you'll get from our extra hours together." Eboni said before leaving the woman's office and building.

The teen jumps into the back seat of Tiffany's car, hoping she wouldn't ask how the session went - unfortunately, luck is never on her side. "How did it go?" She asked while driving the way home.

Eboni answered the question by placing her airpods into her ears, turning her music to maximum volume. Tiffany sighs, knowing nothing has come of increasing Eboni's time with Loraine- if anything, it made her worse. The teen has become more closed off. Any chances of Eboni opening up to Tiffany went down the drain once she announced the more added sessions.

The teen knows she hads issues. She knows the way her brain operates isn't normal. Yet being forced to open up about her past isn't what she had in mind on 'helping' figure everything else. She wished Tiffany didn't jump to conclusions that night. The woman thought she was going to cut herself. For what? Eboni's skin looks hideous enough. Why make it worse with scars like the ones her face?

Eboni wouldn't have told Tiffany the truth anyway. She didn't want to risk not being about to see Jeff again. Strange, right? Longing to see a serial killer who showed the slightest interest in her. He was right. Everything he said was true, and Eboni no longer has the will to deny it. So she bites the bullet with these sessions, finding a bit on enjoyment in pissing Loraine off. The teen can only hope on seeing Jeff sooner rather than later.

Tiffany parks in the driveway of their home, Eboni jumping out the car and rushes inside. "Eboni, wait, I forgot to tell -!"

Eboni didn't stop, nor could she hear Tiffany. The only thing Eboni wants is a nice shower, some snacks, and a quiet night of rest. However, the teen is greeted by a blonde munching on her favorite chips while laying in her bed, and a quiet girl sitting on her couch.

"Sup." The blonde nods, Eboni having forgotten both of their names. "Had no candy, so I had to eat these." She shrugs.

"I-I'm so s-sorry about her Eboni. I-I tried to tell her how rude she was, but s-she wouldn't listen. Here! I'll give y-you some money to p-pay back for the chips." The other said quietly but shyly.

Eboni was stunned, but that feeling quickly went and was replaced by anger. "Why the fuck-"

"Tiffany let us in. She was almost in tears when we told her we're your friends." Blonde said with a grin.

"We aren't fucking friends. And you have five seconds to get off my bed!" Eboni shouts, clenching her fist.

The goth one yanks the Blonde off her bed and snatches the chips from her hands. She must've felt the rage rolling off of Eboni. "H-Here... we were j-just worried about you. You've been avoiding us at school a-and wouldn't answer our calls or texts so -"

"Why are you two forcing yourselves into my damn life? I didn't ask to be your friend. I don't want to be your friend. I only gave you my number so you bitches could leave me alone! I fucking forgot your names! That's how unimportant you shits are to me!" Eboni snaps at them, her nails digging into the palms of her hands.

The two girls glance at each other before looking at Eboni, both sharing a look of compassion in their eyes. They seem to understand how the teen must feel.

"Well, I'm Taylor. She's Iris." The blonde one said then points at the other.

"We....understand how you feel." Iris said gently.

"How the f-"

"We met more of them." Taylor said, the look in her eyes becoming serious. "Remember I said there's more of 'em."

Eboni raised a brow, feeling herself calm down. She moves to sit at her desk, opening her laptop, and begins typing away. "Yeah, I remember. Did a bit of research...."

"What kind? On who?" Iris asks, moving to stand over her to get a better view of Eboni's laptop.

"All of them. I created a file for each of them. Honestly, there are so many serial killers in one town. Who willingly moves into a shit hole like this....stupid bitch." She grumbles, referring to her previous foster mother- Melissa. "You two encountered one and survived? How?"

"Same way you did. Faught those fuckers." Taylor shrugs. "The one I had the misfortune of meetin' calls himself masky. He has a partner, though."

"He calls himself hoodie. They attacked us at my home during a sleepover over a few months ago..." Iris said softly.

"Mhm... yeah there's a few reports on them always killing in pairs of... three? Sometimes two? The third one would be -"

"Ticci Toby...Iris sister encountered him a year ago before masky and hoodie attacked us that night." Taylor explains, about to lay down in Eboni's bed again until the teen gives her a warning glare.

"This....shit is crazy...and they haven't tried coming after you? Like at all?"

Iris didn't answer. She looks at Taylor, hoping she'd come up with a response. "Nah. I shot masky so I doubt those fuckers wanna to get full of lead." She chuckles proudly.

Eboni knew they were lying. If those killers are anything like Jeff, she doubts they'll just forget about the victims that got away. The teen doesn't care, though. They have their secrets, and Eboni has her own. The teen focuses her attention back on her laptop, clicking on the file labeled 'Jeff'.

She sighs as she reads through his file for what feels like the hundredth time. Eboni couldn't get him out of her mind. The way his hands felt gripping her wrist and throat, the way his breath felt against her ear when he whispered to her, that crazed smile, and those red eyes.

The way his body felt pressed against hers. She's thankful to be wearing her mask since she's biting down on her lip at the thoughts of this serial killer. Eboni longs to see him again. She hates being the one waiting. She hates being the one desperate for him, but she knows she can't hide it from him. She wouldn't anymore. Jeff sees right through her.

It makes her feel vulnerable in the most terrifying yet delicious way. She has this odd feeling that he wouldn't try to end her life again. A game. He wants to play a game with her. With a heavy sigh, she closes her laptop, climbing into bed. Eboni hopes that she's trapped in the smiling killer's mind as he is in hers. The teen has no idea just how much her life will change from their unfortunate encounter.

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defjux · 1 year

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100 of my favorite non hip hop releases from 2022. I made a seperate list for hip hop already which you can find here if you’re interested. 2022 will go down as a memorable year for me not just for the sheer quantity of great releases, but also because i feel that all my of my favorite genres had a chance to shine. I started returning to my hardcore/punk/metal roots within the last couple years and 2022 was the first time in recent memory where I really felt like I was fully tapped in. There were so many highly anticipated releases from a ton of different artists last year, and the majority lived up to the hype for me. Grindcore, Mathcore, and Post-Hardcore seems to have been making a huge comeback with some incredible new efforts from modern genre staples like Wormrot, Callous Daoboys, Brutus, Greyhaven, Birds in row, Knoll, and Cloud Rat. Not to mention the much welcome return of some legendary acts including Gospel, Sawtooth Grin, and City of Caterpillar. I’m sure there’s plenty of stuff I missed out on too, so feel free to hit me with any recommendations you might have or just let me know what projects you enjoyed the most last year. Oh and you can also click the titles of any of these albums and it’ll take you to the bandcamp or spotify page where you can check them out if you’d like. Peace. Chart with album titles 1. Wormrot - Hiss 2. Alvvays - Blue Rev 3. Brutus - Unison Life 4. Cloud Rat - Threshold 5. Weyes Blood - And In The Darkness, Hearts Aglow 6. Gospel - The Loser 7. Natalia Lafourcade - De todas las flores 8. Massa Nera - Derramar | Querer | Borrar 9. Messa - Close 10. Soul Glo - Diaspora Problems 11. King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Omnium Gatherum 12. Cult of Luna - The Long Road North 13. tricot - Fudeki 14. White Ward - False Light 15. The Callous Daoboys - Celebrity Therapist 16. The Sawtooth Grin - Good. 17. Ultha - All That Has Never Been True 18. Joel Ross - The Parable Of The Poet 19. Autonoesis - Moon of Foul Magics 20. Knoll - Metempiric 21. Joyce Moreno - Natureza 22. Birds in Row - Gris Klein 23. Artificial Brain - Artificial Brain 24. Wake - Thought Form Descent 25. Tómarúm - Ash In Realms Of Stone Icons 26. Greyhaven - This Bright and Beautiful World 27. Sudan Archives - Natural Brown Prom Queen 28. Nilüfer Yanya - PAINLESS 29. Mary Halvorson - Amaryllis 30. Celeste - Assassine(s) 31. Naked Flames - Miracle in Transit 32. Elephant Gym - Dreams 33. Cave In - Heavy Pendulum 34. Silvana Estrada - Marchita 35. Tomas Fujiwara's Triple Double - March 36. Imperial Triumphant - Spirit Of Ecstasy 37. Blind Girls - The Weight of Everything 38. Chat Pile - God's Country 39. fleshwater - We're Not Here to Be Loved 40. Fievel Is Glauque - Flaming Swords

41. Melody's Echo Chamber - Emotional Eternal 42. NEPTUNIAN MAXIMALISM - Set Chaos To The Heart Of The Moon 43. King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Ice, Death, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms and Lava 44. An Abstract Illusion - Woe 45. Sigh - SHIKI 46. City of Caterpillar - Mystic Sisters 47. Big Thief - Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You 48. Conjurer - Páthos 49. Kali Malone - Living Torch 50. Krallice - Crystalline Exhaustion 51. Aeviterne - The Ailing Facade 52. Scarcity - Aveilut 53. The Comet Is Coming - Hyper-Dimensional Expansion Beam 54. Makaya McCraven - In These Times 55. Misþyrming - Með hamri 56. Loraine James - Building Something Beautiful For Me 57. Knxwledge. - 家.V1 58. Hylda - Juniper Pyre 59. Gillian Carter - Salvation Through Misery 60. Beach House - Once Twice Melody 61. Angles - A Muted Reality 62. Hatchie - Giving The World Away 63. Daniel Rossen - You Belong There 64. Pyrithe - Monuments to Impermanence 65. Otoboke beaver - SUPER CHAMPON 66. The Orielles - Tableau 67. Sunrise Patriot Motion - Black Fellflower Stream 68. Blut aus Nord - Disharmonium - Undreamable Abysses 69. Helpless - Caged In Gold 70. Immanuel Wilkins - The 7th Hand 71. Mizmor & Thou - Myopia 72. The Wind in the Trees - Architects of Light 73. Daniel Avery - Ultra Truth 74. Rolo Tomassi - Where Myth Becomes Memory 75. Show Me The Body - Trouble The Water 76. Sault - 11 77. Bríi - Corpos Transparentes 78. Sweet Pill - Where the Heart Is 79. Vein.FM - This World is Going to Ruin You 80. Ravyn Lenae - Hypnos 81. Disheveled Cuss - Into the Couch 82. Aoife Nessa Frances - Protector 83. Niechęć - Unsubscribe 84. Elder - Innate Passage 85. Raum - Daughter 86. Viagra Boys - Cave World 87. Chalk Hands - Don't Think About Death 88. Boris - fade 89. Nouns - WHILE OF UNSOUND MIND 90. ANNA SAGE - Anna Sage 91. Nu Genea - Bar Mediterraneo 92. JYOCHO - Let's Promise to Be Happy 93. Black Country, New Road - Ants From Up There 94. Waajeed - Memoirs of Hi-Tech Jazz 95. Petrol Girls - Baby 96. DIM - Steeped Sky, Stained Light 97. lilien rosarian - every flower in my garden 98. Work Money Death - Thought, Action, Reaction, Interaction 99. A.A. Williams - As The Moon Rests 100. Vital Spirit - Still as the Night, Cold as the Wind

#music recommendations #aoty 2022 #alvvays #brutus #wormrot #cloud rat #weyes blood #messa #massa nera #natalia lafourcade #king gizzard #tricot #soul glo

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seriouslyhooked · 3 years

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The Best Bad Idea

Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories.

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! Here is a little something I made instead of being a responsible writer and finishing my other projects. I’ll be back to my other WIPs soon (God willing), but in the meantime here’s my 1000th attempt at writing a Captain Swan meet cute. I needed to get some words on the page, and this is the result. Hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, Thump. Steady, sure, and even. A solid pulsing sound with no inconsistencies and no delays or false starts.

In this particular patient, that fourth set of beats was the most important. Prior to his recent operation, Earl MacDonald’s heart had been weak and skipping needed pulses, then constricting far too harshly on every fourth measure. That type of arrhythmia had potentially disastrous consequences, but those worrying beats were seemingly behind them. The rhythm Emma heard through the stethoscope was a regularly circulating drumline, the tell-tale song of a heart that was working, and working well. Her surgical intervention had been successful.

She gently released the breath she was holding, a sign of the stress that she carried while waiting for patients to recuperate. Emma never let the patients see her sweat, but she had been worried on multiple levels in this case. Earl was going on 80, and not a logical contender for intensive cardiac mediation, but Emma’s gut had told her he could handle it, and she was rarely ever wrong. Earl forged through the surgery like a much younger man, and his outputs post-operation had all been extremely encouraging. It was shaping up to be another win, another life saved thanks to the power of medicine, and that filled Emma with real joy. She always did her absolute best to create good outcomes, and this time there was so much more on the line than one life. This was a man who was loved and cherished by the people closest to him, and who would be sorely missed if something were to happen.

“Anything you want me to note for the chart, Doctor Swan?”

Emma bit back a witty retort at the pointed use of the word ‘Doctor.’ She was one of the few surgeons in this hospital who didn’t care what people called her, as long as they called on her early enough to actually save the patient’s life. But with Belle, a person Emma considered a dear and true friend, there was an added lilt of sass when using her title. Her friend was one of the nurse practitioners that Emma had been working with for years, since the day she landed here as a medical intern, but despite their differences in degrees, Belle was easily the most well-read and brilliant resource when it came to medical literature in this hospital.

“Just that Mr. MacDonald is healing nicely.”

“Did you hear that Lorraine?” Earl asked, with a Cheshire cat smile on his face, and the glint of true pride in his eyes. “Doctor Emma says I’m healing nicely.”

“Hard not to hear, seeing as I’m right beside you,” Loraine quipped, but she squeezed his hand affectionately, and offered a warm smile to her husband all the same.

“You know, usually being dubbed ‘nice’ is the kiss of death for a man.”

“Earl!” Loraine chastised, clearly not liking his word choice. Earl smiled wider, looking almost boyish in his delight.

“Well, so to speak. But I was going to say that I think we can make an exception this time. I’ve never been so happy to be referred to as ‘nice’ in my life.”

“Technically Doctor Swan was referring to your vital signs, Earl,” Belle taunted from across the room, holding back a smile Emma knew she was bound to let loose soon enough.

“Aw come on, you both know I am your favorite patient. I mean I’m not exactly pressed for competition. Have you seen the people on this floor? Good grief.”

“Ignore him, ladies. He’s all talk. He hasn’t left this room since we got here,” Loraine said, rolling her eyes, as if these antics were a constant occurrence. Based on her small window of experience with Earl, Emma would believe it. “Every meal, every visit, every moment has been within these four walls. Even his PT has been in here.”

“His PT has been here?” Emma asked, surprised that Mary Margaret, their head Occupational Therapist, had allowed for that. She was normally a by-the-book professional, and Emma never knew her friend to provide rehab consults outside of her studio.

“Yup. I told Miss Mary Margaret that I had a wife to keep an eye on and she relented.”

“No, actually what you said was, ‘Excuse me, Ms. Blanchard? You probably heard I just had heart surgery. Well, the thing is, my heart is sitting in this room. I’d like to be with her. Doesn’t seem right to be separated so soon, given what we’ve been through.’ Then you pointed at me, and used your puppy dog eyes on her. Next thing I knew, she had lugged enough equipment to fill the room here. No questions, just action.”

“I bet she ate that right up,” Belle said with a wink. “Mary Margaret loves nothing more than love itself.”

Belle and Mrs. MacDonald discussed Mary Margaret’s love of love, and Earl’s improved mobility, for a few more minutes while Emma continued checking his stats, but ultimately Earl’s patience was wearing thin. He really only had one thing on his mind, and he was now determined to ask about it. Emma was honestly shocked that he managed to wait this long. She knew it was only a matter of time and she was ready for the showdown.

“So, what do you think, Doc? Am I making it home in time for the party?”

“The one for your grandson on Sunday?” she asked, noting the three-day window between now and then. She had heard about this party non-stop, since the moment Earl woke up from the procedure. It was a central fixation for the old man, a celebration that would host his entire family, and a goal he had been carrying for over a week. Earl nodded and Emma hesitated for a few seconds, before smiling and giving the good news away. “Yes, I am confident that Jayden’s ‘Pop Pops’ will be in attendance when he turns four. But you know the rules…”

“I know, I know: no good food, no strenuous exercise, no having fun.”

“Earl.” Just the utterance of the old man’s name from his wife was enough to have him looking like a kid with his hand caught in the candy jar. Emma and Belle both chuckled at that child-like expression. It was hard not to; the old married couple was just too sweet.

“I’m sorry. I know this is serious, but what is life if you can’t have a little fun?”

“Fun comes in all shapes and sizes, Mr. MacDonald, and despite what you may think about your prescribed lifestyle changes, you’re forgetting two things. First, most of these less-alluring prescriptions will be temporary, and second, you’re a man who clearly loves a challenge.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you know that, Doc?”

“Well for one thing, you somehow landed a lady as remarkable as Loraine. There’s no way she came easy with these corny jokes of yours. You must have worked harder than you ever worked in your life to persuade her to give you a chance.”

The laughter from the older couple was boisterous and heartwarming, and Emma knew she was right on the money. At this point, she had the ability to sniff out true affection, and these two had it in spades. Many couples she saw facing emergency room disasters together didn’t have the same good luck.

“You got that right, Doc. You know the first time we met was at the -,”

Earl’s story was unceremoniously interrupted by the crackling of the PA system specific to this room. It buzzed for a few moments before a message was delivered in a saccharine sweet voice that sounded nothing like the announcer’s normal tone.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station, code 741.”

Emma waited for the feed to cut off and began to tell Earl to please go on with the story, but the call came out again.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, code 741.”

“You know she’s just going to keep doing that until she gets her way,” Belle murmured. Emma nodded. It was no use. What Ruby Lucas wanted, Ruby Lucas got. That just seemed to be the way of the world.

“Belle, would you mind telling Ruby I’m with a patient at the moment? I will be there when I can. She can always proceed without me.”

Belle snorted out a laugh, knowing that last part would never happen, but gave a swift affirmation that she would relay the message before waving goodbye to the MacDonald’s and promising to see them soon. As her friend headed out, Emma sighed, knowing there was no way Ruby was going to give things up that easily. She had a matter of moments before some new tactic would be deployed.

“I’m sorry about that. You were saying?”

“Eh it’s kind of a long story, and you’ve got places to be, Doc. Just know, true love won out in the end with me and my Loraine. It always does.”

Emma couldn’t deny that their love appeared true even after their fifty plus years together. She personally had never experienced a love like that, but she was wondering more and more if maybe it was out there, somewhere in the later chapters of her story. For years she thought herself above that kind of need. She found validation in herself and in her work. She dedicated herself to helping others, and that had always been enough. But the loneliness that became a constant when she was growing up in foster care still lingered, and she wondered if someone might ever come along who could inspire her to take a chance and risk her heart.

“You know, I actually worked as a nurse before my kids were born,” Loraine commented easily. Emma nodded and smiled as she checked the last of Mr. MacDonald’s IV drips. Emma was aware of the older woman’s solid medical understanding. Loraine had continued to demonstrate it the entire time her husband was admitted in this ward. “I’m trying to remember if I ever ran into a code 741.”

“Oh, uh, I think – well, erm, I mean you probably didn’t,” Emma said, hoping she didn’t turn beet red at the passing comment from the older woman. She was already stuttering, which was completely out of character and eighty shades of embarrassing. Loraine’s words feigned ignorance, but her eyes told a different story. Still Emma tried to play it off. “It’s really not a big deal. Just a non-emergent protocol.”

Another alert sounded, but this time it came through the ceiling unit reserved for announcements to the wider reaches of the hospital. “Attention to all surgical ward personnel. We are paging Doctor Swan to the nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, you are needed at the nurse’s station immediately for a code 741.” The talking stopped, but the air crackled signaling that the line was still live. “Immediately.”

“Sounds pretty urgent to me,” Loraine replied. The curiosity in her gaze told Emma that the older woman was onto them, but it was Earl’s comment that cut too close for comfort.

“When I was in the war, all of our numeric codes corresponded to letters. So 7 was H, 4 was D, 1 was A. H – D – A. HDA, now what could that be….?” Uh oh. Now Emma really had to get out of here before she accidentally admitted Ruby’s code’s meaning – Hot Doctor Alert. That would be the cherry on top of a full-blown mortification sundae.

“All righty, well like I told Belle, all your scans look good. Doctor Whale is on shift this evening during the next series of rounds, so I’ll make sure your file is ready for him.”

“Of course, dear, and good luck with your doctor, er – I mean – code.”

Emma stammered out something like an ‘okay thanks,’ while leaving. She tried to get her bearings once she was out of sight of the room, but she had nowhere to go. Everyone on this floor had just heard her page, and there were bound to be at least a few who understood the meaning. She was so embarrassed, and more than a little ticked at Ruby. She was supposed to be her best friend, but she was always pulling these crazy stunts. They were mostly harmless, but for Emma, who hated being the subject of hospital gossip, it was anxiety inducing to say the least.

“Please tell me that you did not just broadcast that to the entire hospital,” Emma said, arriving at the nurse’s station with a sense of urgency, and watching some of the other nurses scurry off to avoid the confrontation. Ruby, however, was unfazed. Actually, the nurse manager just rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag and phone from her cubby, as if Emma was the one who was annoying and not the other way around.

“And here I was thinking we were the best of friends. Soul sisters, kindred spirits, friends for life. But no, ye of little faith, you actually believe I would broadcast the hot doc alert to all of Mist Haven? What kind of friend would do that?”

“But if you didn’t… then how did you…?” Emma’s questions trailed off, but her arms flailed towards the ceiling and the look on her face spoke for itself – how had Ruby used the hospital wide PA system without actually broadcasting to the entire hospital?

“You know Tink up in nuero?” Emma nodded, well acquainted with the nurse manager who had Ruby’s job on the fifth floor but with a specialization of the brain and nervous system. She was a tiny woman, but she ruled that ward with more than capable hands. “She and I bribed the IT guys to make the nurse managers an override. Now we can circumvent the PA software whenever we want. Bring some of you more stubborn Doctors to heal when it comes to answering our pages.”

“That’s… well, actually that’s genius,” Emma admitted.

“I like to think so,” Ruby teased, offering a genuine smile. The two friends laughed at all of this, and Emma felt so much better knowing that their secret was still relatively secure. The last thing she wanted was everyone knowing how she was spending her lunch breaks these days.

“Gus, you’re holding down the fort while I’m gone, right?” Ruby asked, her smile turning slightly wicked with the purposeful jest aimed at the new nursing aid sitting behind the desk.

“Me?” The new hire replied, suddenly white as a sheet. Emma had never seen the man so stricken, and as a new nurse he had plenty of high-stress moments to look alarmed during. “I – uh – well – I -,”

“It’s called comedic relief, Gus. Commonly referred to as joking. Do me a favor, learn about it by the end of shift, kay?” Ruby pivoted to the person she actually trusted to man the fort. “Thirty minutes work for you, Belle?”

“I’ve got it handled.”

“Excellent. We’ll return with a full report,” Ruby said, grabbing Emma’s arm and moving them down the hallway before Emma could even say goodbye. “Newbies – can’t live with them, can’t pawn off scut work without them.”

“You are terrible. And yet… the look on his face just now…? Priceless,” Emma acquiesced. “But seriously, Ruby, can we PLEASE find another way to page me for this? My patients are not stupid, and the code isn’t exactly original. It’s kind of…” Ruby’s grin was so big that it stopped Emma in her tracks. She was currently trying to hold her friend to account, but Ruby looked like she’d won the lottery. “What?”

“You are so totally into him! I mean listen to you right now.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Emma said, feeling her cheeks flush against her will.

“Exactly,” Ruby said. “You’re telling me to be more discreet when I send the bat signal, but you still want me to send it. Do you realize how unlike you that is?”

“Despite what you may think, Ruby. I’m a doctor, I’m not dead. I can appreciate a hot guy now and again.”

“Doubtful. Remember last month when all those pro hockey players were here after Ocheski collapsed on the ice? You had a room full of crazy sexy men. Like virile, hot, muscled men who get paid big money to beat each other up on the ice. Most women would die for that chance, and to make it even better, most of them were hitting on you. And what did you do? Nothing. You didn’t even blink.”

“They were not hitting on me,” Emma affirmed, but the words were hollow. They had been trying to flirt with her. A few had even attempted to get her number.

“They were hitting on you,” Ruby said adamantly.

“He was a patient, and the rest of them were essentially his family. You know I’d never cross that line. Doesn’t count.”

“Fine, then what about Dr. King? When he came for that conjoined twins case last year, you had no interest. Zero. Zilch.”

“King was an asshole, you know that,” Emma said, belatedly catching her use of profanity and checking that no patients were around. Luckily the coast was clear.

“So? You didn’t have to marry the guy. Hot is hot, honey. That’s just how things are.”

Emma barked out a laugh at even the thought of marrying someone like that. Arthur King was just about the worst person she could fathom to spend a life with. He was narcissistic and carrying around one of the biggest god-complexes she’d ever seen, and she was a surgeon, so she was an expert on god-complexes.

“Your face really says it all, Emma. I mean honestly, poker would be a terrible game for you to take up. Your contempt for King is obvious, but, meanwhile, as soon as I mention Doctor Jones… aha! See, totally shifted.”

Emma didn’t know what to say to that. She could try and protest, but her friend knew her too well for that. The best thing to do was say nothing, and she was saved by their arrival at their destination. The coffee cart in the center of the action, near the entrance of Mist Haven. Here was where the wards crossed paths. Her surgical wing met up with the specialties departments, the ER, the community clinic, and more. It was also swarmed with both hospital workers and visitors. Typically, this was the last place she wanted to be, but recently it had become a highlight of her day.

“Emma? Ruby? What’s brought you out here?” a voice asked. It was Mary Margaret, and given her street clothes and jacket, Emma would guess she was just starting her shift.

“Haven’t you heard? There’s fresh meat from the ER. Two showings a day, but we favor the afternoon delight.”

“Oh right,” Mary Margaret said, nodding, like Ruby’s words were totally normal, and for Ruby they were. “I heard about the new ER Chief. Doctor Nolan? I meant to get down there and bring him something to welcome him, but I’ve been so swamped this week. My caseload is crazy at the moment. I hope he won’t think too badly of me for being a bit late.”

“Mary Margaret, literally no one in a hospital brings people cupcakes as a welcome gift, especially not new guys in other departments.” Ruby was not wrong. Hospitals were hardly the most happy-go-lucky of places. At least not usually. “Believe me, the man will be grateful whenever they come. If he even eats them. He’s fit – like fit, fit. Keto diet and a personal trainer fit. The kind of fit that makes you -,”

“Careful, Ruby,” Emma teased. “What if Graham heard you saying that?”

“God, I wish. You know how worked up he gets, and how he works out his frustrations.” Ruby’s tone was dripping in suggestion. “It’s one of the many reasons I live to drive him crazy.”

Emma and Mary Margaret laughed at Ruby’s apt assessment of her relationship with her boyfriend. Ruby had been dating the fireman for almost a year now, since he came in on one of the ambulance bays with a victim he’d rescued from a fire, but Ruby was hardly the predictable type, and Graham seemed to love that about her. They were still going strong despite her willful, wild child nature, and Emma suspected they may be built to last.

“Doctor Nolan must really be something to get you out here, Emma,” Mary Margaret said, moving forward in the line, inching ever closer to the mediocre coffee the cart promised.

“Ha! Hardly. Emma’s not here for Nolan. She’s here for Jones.”

“Jones?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Girl, where have you been? Doctor Killian Jones, trauma surgeon extraordinaire. Chief Mills brought him here for a ‘collaboration’ with the ER, but she’s totally trying to recruit him for head of his own department. Turns out he and David Nolan are old friends. Same medical school maybe? I don’t know, no one’s gotten me those details yet. Anyway, Regina hardly leaves him alone. She only misses this little window because she’s hooking up with Doctor Locksley in the supply room on the 2nd floor.”

“She’s WHAT?!” Emma and Mary Margaret yelled at the same time and Ruby looked aghast for the first time today. Some other hospital staff in the area glanced over, but no one paid much mind beyond a head nod. Everyone was absorbed in their own need for caffeine, and no one was the wiser of the bombshell Ruby had just dropped.

“Oh shoot, I wasn’t supposed to say that. I promised Ella, damn it!”

“Ella, her assistant? I thought she quit,” Mary Margaret stage whispered.

“Oh she did. Made it a whole two months, which, you know, makes sense given the fact that Regina is a nightmare. But the last week she was here, she learned a crucial secret regarding her Majesty. She spilled last week at The White Rabbit, but I promised her I wouldn’t tell until she’s settled at her new job at GMH. So you did not hear this from me, and I did not hear this from her, capische?”

“I can’t believe the Evil Queen is dating someone,” Mary Margaret said, deeply disturbed by the idea. She shuddered at the thought, and this was someone who loved love. But love and Regina Mills didn’t really feel like concepts that belonged in the same sentence. Scratch that, they didn’t really even belong in the same book. “She’s just so…”

“Evil?” Emma responded. The nickname worked for a reason, after all. The hospital Chief was downright tyrannical.

“Exactly.”

“Well dating is a stretch. She’s screwing someone. But then again, who knows. Ella said she actually saw her smiling in those final days. And not that evil one she’s famous for. Like a real, genuine, I have a heart, smile.”

“No way,” Emma said at the same time Mary Margaret murmured, “Well would you look at that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m on the case. The temp is a totally easy mark – Sydney something. I’m buying him lunch tomorrow. I’ll have the whole story before you know it.”

“Won’t Graham be proud,” Emma chuckled, but her joke fell on deaf ears as something caught Ruby’s attention across the way. Her friend’s countenance changed immediately, putting Emma on alert.

“Ooh, they’re coming! Act normal.”

Normally, Emma would have laughed at that command, but she was too busy feeling the spike of adrenaline at the impending arrival of one Doctor Killian Jones. He really was a world-renowned trauma surgeon, who was working on a number of cutting-edge techniques that saved lives and gave critical care patients better chances to recover. She had actually heard of him a few years ago when reading about a new procedure to treat arrhythmia in patients with traumatic injury. He engineered it in the field, while serving in the British naval forces, and his paper had been circulating in cardiac wings around the country, but she never saw the man before last week when he arrived in Boston. Suffice it to say she could not have imagined that this marvel of modern medicine would also be so roguishly handsome.

Spotting him today across the great hall, Emma was struck again by just how attractive this man was. She couldn’t even comprehend it really. All she knew was that she had yet to find a fault in him. Every day she’d stolen secret glances, and every time he proved better than her memory. It was crazy, and very reminiscent of schoolgirl crushes and teenage day dreams, but she couldn’t help the way she felt. It was intoxicating, and despite her best efforts, she was powerless to turn Ruby’s invites to the show down when she could witness this each and every day.

The first thing that she’d noticed about him was his general presence. His posture was strong and straight and assured. He looked ready for anything, but somehow laid back, like he was totally in control. People naturally parted when he walked by, as if he silently willed the flow of the hospital traffic. Ruby called it swagger. Emma called it… well something not quite safe for work. Couple that general aura of authority with the classically gorgeous features of his face, and Emma was lost. On that first day (and okay, maybe on the others as well), she actually felt her knees get weak. She always thought that was a bogus cliché, but nope, it was real, and she was the proof of it. From there she was hooked, and over time she’d chronicled more and more things to like about him.

Yesterday it had been his hair. As she watched him across the atrium, she noticed that the shade shone bright in the sun, but that it was nearer to midnight than any color brown. It was slightly longer than most of the other male doctors wore theirs, but not so long that it looked unkempt or unprofessional, at least not yet. She knew for a fact that the military never would allow for such a style, and it felt like a bit of rebellion, or maybe a lack of care for what others thought. Both sent a delicious thrill through Emma, even though she had no real confirmation one way or another. Maybe he was just lazy, but that wasn’t how she imagined him…

And oh boy did she imagine him. At first she hadn’t meant to. She just had these flashbacks to seeing him that she carried through the day. These visceral visions always started the same: he would walk by, looking downright delicious and impossible to resist, then he would turn his eyes her way here in the middle of the hospital hustle and bustle. She’d feel caught in his stare, sense the hunger even from the distance, and her heart would quicken to a maddening crescendo as he walked her way. The rest of the world would fade from view, and it would feel like they were the only two people alive. Her gaze would stay transfixed on his almost cocky composure and the hard line of his bearded jaw. The attraction in his blue eyes would light a fire in her, and then, without so much as a word like ‘hello’ or ‘nice to meet you,’ he’d pull her into his embrace and kiss her senseless. She could practically taste him on her tongue, and yet she’d never even heard him speak. People who had, who were later interrogated by Ruby, mentioned that he had an accent. British or Irish, or something along those lines. That tidbit had played oh so sweetly in Emma’s mind this week. God, she’d love to hear him say her name -,

“Emma,” a voice beside her said, but it didn’t pull her out of the fog. “Oh my God, Emma, he’s looking right at you.”

“He’s what?” Emma said, blinking back to reality before finding that Doctor Jones was looking this way. She’d been so busy fantasizing, she stopped paying attention to what was right in front of her.

In the middle of the room, the man who had intrigued her for over a week was standing totally still, disregarding the swarm of people on all sides. His entire attention had shifted from the task ahead of him, and he was looking at her, staring with a blend of intrigue and something Emma couldn’t describe. Doctor Nolan had stopped as well, but he was clearly confused as to the delay. He seemed to ask his friend what was wrong, and Emma watched spell bound, as the lips she’d envisioned kissing her moved in some kind of unheard reply. She couldn’t make out his words, but she shivered at the passion and determination etched across his being. David then looked their way, and Emma knew that Doctor Jones – Killian - had asked about them. No, forget that, he had asked about her. He was looking right at her, and that spark of heat and desire she’d always imagined was nowhere near as tantalizing as the real thing. He was looking at her with the same hunger she’d reserved for her wildest imaginings. Holy crap, what was she going to do?

“Ruby?” she asked, her voice squeaked out in alarm. She tore her gaze from the approaching object of her desire and looked to her best friend with overt confusion and mild panic.

“Took him long enough to spot you. It’s been almost a week. I thought I was going to have to hire a marching band or one of those giant arrow guys they have at outlet malls.”

Emma didn’t understand, and then it dawned on her – her friend had planned this. Emma looked at Mary Margaret, but she was still staring in the distance. Only when Emma followed her gaze did she realize that Mary Margaret wasn’t looking at Killian. She was looking at David.

“Hey, ladies, you looking to order, or what? I ain’t got all day!”

The three of them jumped at the barista’s interruption and Mary Margaret surged ahead to the line. She rattled off an order, giving way too much money to the attendant while grabbing her cup with shaky hands. Then she looked at David and back to Emma with an expression that said Mary Margaret may just bolt. Ok, what the actual hell was going on?

Before she could begin to answer that internal question, Doctor Jones and Doctor Nolan were within ear shot. Emma wracked her brain for something to say when they finally got here, but was spared when David broke the ice.

“Doctor Swan,” he said with a head nod and a polite smile. They knew each other peripherally at this point. Emma had consulted on numerous ER cases since Doctor Nolan started his new position. But she wouldn’t call them friends. They were very much acquaintances. “I heard Earl MacDonald is recovering nicely. He most definitely has you to thank for that.”

“And you too,” she said, offering credit where it was due. “A quick diagnosis makes all the difference. I’ve noticed the ER is filled with them since you started.”

“That’s kind of you. I don’t believe you’ve met my friend, Doctor Jones.”

“Killian,” Doctor Jones said immediately, before offering a heart stopping smile of his own. Emma had yet to see the man smile, and her heart skipped a beat, the rhythm of her pulse skittering in an almost blissful way. “A pleasure to meet you, Swan.”

He offered his hand to her, and Emma took it, shaking in greeting even though it was uncommon for doctors or nursing staff to do so. Chief Mills stressed that germ management was a top priority at Mist Haven, and she’d come as close to banning the practice as was legal in the state of Massachusetts. Usually Emma didn’t mind, but germs were the farthest thing from her radar when their fingers touched. Instead, Emma was filled with the zapping sense of promise and a thrill of warmth that made her head swim.

“Emma,” she whispered. A beat passed between them, and Emma lost herself for too long. Only the clearing of a throat beside them brought her back to the moment. She let go of his hand, but tracked the slight disappointment on his face when she did. It filled her with a rush of something long forgotten. A sense of peace and elation she hadn’t tasted in years. “Um these are my friends, Ruby Lucas and Mary Margaret Blanchard. Ruby’s the head nurse in the cardiac unit. And Mary Margaret runs OT for the surgical division.”

Emma tore her gaze from Killian, watching her friends make their greetings. Ruby handled her own completely, and Mary Margaret seemed to have gathered her courage, but now it was David who looked shocked and spell bound. Everyone appeared to be thrown off kilter, and it was only Ruby in control of herself. To say her friend was positively delighted with these new developments would be an understatement. That glee rang out clear as day in her invite to both the attending doctors.

“So… Doctor Nolan, Doctor Jones, any way we could convince you to join us? The coffee’s just all right, but the company’s not half bad.”

Both men agreed immediately, and Emma fought her hardest not to blush. It was hard though, and her pulse was racing in the face of this development. Killian came to stand by her, the space between them so small but still too much to bear. She tried to get her bearings as the cranky barista handed her a latte. She struggled to think of something – anything – to say, but she was tongue tied. Instead, she looked at Killian, finding an openness in his expression that said he felt the same exact way. That gave her comfort and removed some of the tension from the moment.

“The hospital’s been buzzing since you got here,” Emma offered, waiting with him while he ordered a no nonsense coffee of his own. “A lot of people are hoping you’ll stay on past the month.”

“And you, love? Have you such hopes?” his words were earnest but laced with an almost cocky easiness that sent Emma’s mind humming in delight. Still, she played it cool. At least she hoped she did.

“Jury’s still out,” she replied, smiling when he looked a little crestfallen. “Well can you blame me? I hardly even know you. Still haven’t seen what you’re capable of.”

“Only a matter of time, Swan. You can trust in that.”

His words may seem benign, but they were loaded with hidden meaning, and Emma knew he meant each one. She swallowed harshly, thinking of the things he might be capable of. Damn, was it hot in here? Or was it just the devil on her shoulder spinning another one of those dirty dreams of hers?

When they’d all gotten a coffee, the five of them moved off to the patio just outside, reserved for hospital staff. The grounds were manicured beautifully, maintaining an oasis that seemed totally disconnected from the hectic nature of the hospital. This was one of Emma’s favorite places here, and she was surprised to hear that neither David nor Killian had been here yet. They all spent a few minutes making non-threatening small talk, with mostly Ruby moving the conversations along. But despite the fluttering feeling she was grappling with, Emma couldn’t say she hated this building anticipation. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much. She was seated next to Killian, fully aware that all of his attention was devoted to her, and she reveled in it. At one point, while the others were talking about something with the OT department, Killian whispered to her and her alone.

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…” His eyes looked from hers down to her lips, and Emma wet them absentmindedly. She heard a low growl, and realized it was coming from him. She shifted in her seat, turned on in a way she had never been before. Instinctively she moved closer, sensing the sinfully sweet current between them, like lightning just before it cracked across the summer sky.

“We could…” she continued, hoping he would elaborate and put into words what she herself was wishing for.

“That we could -,”

“Paging all staff to the ER. All staff to the ER for an incoming trauma, category 4.”

This time the PA was most definitely broadcasting a hospital wide announcement, and the irony wasn’t lost on Emma. Ruby looked positively forlorn at the interruption, but it was somewhat poetic after how they’d gotten here.

“Category four,” David repeated, standing immediately, prompting all of them to do the same. “We haven’t had a four since I started. We’re gonna need all hands on deck. Killian?”

“Aye, mate. I’m with you.” He looked back to Emma, and only had time for the swiftest goodbye. “Until next time, love.”

Emma and her friends watched them go, running towards the ER. Belatedly, they realized that if a trauma of that magnitude was coming into the hospital, there were bound to be surgical cases flooding their ward soon enough. They hustled back to their wing, focused once more on their jobs and the lives on the line that they were sworn to help heal and make better. But Emma still carried that moment with her for the rest of the day, and when the shift was over and done, and she’d done all she could to help the people in her care, she was left wondering what exactly Doctor Jones was hoping to ask, and when, oh when, he may try to do so again.

Post-Note: So there we have it. This was originally going to be a oneshot for my CS mixtape series, but alas, the muse wants what she wants, and this time that’s a three part mini-story for all of us to share. Hope that you guys have enjoyed so far and I would love to hear what you think! As always, thanks so much for reading, and I hope you are all staying well in this crazy time! xE

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan au #cs fic #cs #cs ff #cs fluff #cs smut #cs meet cute #captain swan meet cute #emma swan #killian jones #ruby lucas #snowing fic #the best bad idea #the best bad idea 1 #cs doctors au #cs medical au #once upon a time

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

let it out (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: let it out Rating: Explicit Length: 3000 Warnings: SO MUCH ANGST oh, and Smut (oral F receiving, unprotected sex) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in late 1995. I know I said I didn’t think I’d have a chapter today, I really didn’t think I would. I was pretty upset last night and all of this came out. Summary: Reader and Javier finally discuss everything between them from Colombia.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You fumed as you sat down the file you had been reading, abandoning the sofa before you were tempted to flip the table over in your annoyance.

“What’s wrong?” Javier questioned as he came back into the family room with two beers. “What is it baby?”

You laughed bitterly and shook your head, “Look at the file.” You folded your arms across your chest and paced away from the sofa. “They just can’t let it go.”

Javier’s brows furrowed as he sat down on the sofa and picked up the discarded file. You watched him as his eyes scanned over the page, “What am I looking at?”

“The P.D. requested files from the DEA about Escobar’s ventures here.” You explained, your tone still dripping with venom. “They struck my name from every fucking file.”

“What?” Javier’s jaw rocked, his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he glared at the documents, shuffling through the other files sitting on the table. “I see Murphy and Peña everywhere in these files, but I don’t see—”

“Me.” You gritted your teeth. “Carefully omitted from a crucial part of DEA history.” You dragged your fingers through your hair, fingers curling into fists at your side. “Never underestimate the lengths that men will go to really prove what pieces of shit they are.” You gave him a look. “No offense. You’re not like them.”

Javi rubbed at the back of his neck, shaking his head. “I don't get a free pass. I’ve done enough shit in my life that I don’t get one.” He gestured to the files. “But this is… what the fuck?”

“I just love that you are still there.” You pointed out, looking away then. “I mean goddamn, they could’ve just rewritten history and wiped our whole team off the mission.” You laughed again, “I mean at least they didn’t replace me with fucking Chris.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t.” You shook your head. “They understand the situation at the P.D., it doesn’t fucking matter. It just… five goddamn years.” You lowered your gaze, lips pursed together. “I’m gonna go make sure Josie didn’t get woken up.”

You couldn’t actually handle being there with Javier right then. You didn’t want to keep exploding and you felt like you were about to erupt with everything you’d kept a tight cork on. There was so much about Colombia that you wore like a scar. Maybe a festering wound that you kept patching up and hoping would just go away.

But he had his own trauma and it seemed rotten to unload on him.

Maybe he could’ve done more. Maybe he didn’t fight hard enough in the end when everyone found out. Maybe you shouldn’t have forced him to keep it a secret.

But you hadn’t wanted to give up your career. You’d worked so hard to get there. In the end, your choice were causing everything you tried to protect to be erased.

Josie was out cold in her bed, her little fingers wrapped around the edge of her favorite blanket. You leaned against the doorframe, trying your best not to cry.

She was worth it. Wasn’t she?

There were so many things you wished you’d done differently. Your hindsight on Colombia kept you up at night sometimes. If you had come around to your feelings for Javier sooner — if it hadn’t been that night. Josie might not be Josie. You might not even be with Javi.

Everything worked out the way it was meant to. But then little things like the report came out and it made you hurt. You gave so much of yourself, only to have it all stripped away because you dared to have a child. And Javier was still right there! It wasn’t fucking fair.

“Can we talk?” Javier questioned as he lingered behind you in the hallway.

Your stomach dropped. Talks were never a good sign.

“Yeah.” You swallowed thickly and pulled Josie’s door closed, turning to face him. “I’m just stressed.”

“I know.”

You blinked slowly, eyes holding his gaze until he turned away. “I wasn’t blowing up about you.”

“I know.”

You followed him back into the family room, sinking down onto the sofa and tucking your legs beneath you. “You’re very…” You gestured to him. “I don’t know.”

“Neither do I.” Javier admitted as he picked up his beer and took a sip. “I honestly don’t know what to say, baby. It’s fucked up and you have every reason to be pissed off but,” He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and looked away. “Do you…” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Do you ever regret it?”

You shifted how you were sitting, bringing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. “I don’t.” You told him honestly. “Sometimes I wonder… if things had been different.” You had just looked at your daughter and questioned whether you regretted her.

You let out a frustrated sound and pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes. “Sometimes maybe I do. Regret isn’t the right word. I don’t regret either of you. I regret the situation… and the one I helped create.” You gestured to the files on the table. “They came down hardest because I lied. I sat in front of the ambassador and the director and I lied to them.”

“What did you tell them?”

You bit down on your bottom lip until you tasted blood, your eyes fixed on his face. “They asked me if the baby was yours.” Swallowing thickly you looked away, your jaw clenched tight. “I told them no. I came up with some story… I met someone in a bar. I never saw them again. You know…” You laughed a little, nerves making your hands shake. “I should’ve told them, but… I just had this feeling that if they found out that it was you that they’d send me back to the states. Maybe they wouldn’t have.” You glanced back at him. “I was afraid that if I wasn’t there…”

Javier stared at you and it was hard to read what he was thinking, “What?”

“I thought if I wasn’t there, if I got sent back to the states…” You gestured between you. “That it would be too much work for you. I was wrong because staying was considerably more work for you.”

“Yeah.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth and nodded in agreement. “I didn’t know they asked if it was me…”

You rubbed your lips together before you spoke, “It was three days after I told you and I didn’t… I didn’t know how to believe you were all in. I wanted to, God, I wanted to. But I just…” You rested your chin on your knees. “I was so afraid.”

“So was I.” Javier said so quietly, you weren’t sure you were supposed to hear it. Your expression fell and he stared back at you. “You put me through hell, baby.”

Thank fuck, he was going to finally bring it up. You knew it was there, lurking under every conversation. Three years, it had sat there like the elephant in the room and neither of you had touched it.

“I know I did.” You told him, holding his gaze. “And we can’t ever move past it if we don’t discuss it. It hurts like hell, but we can’t fix this until we stop fucking hiding everything.” You dragged your hands over your face. “It’s always going to weigh us down and—”

“I had no one.” Javier interrupted you, his face flushing red with the emotions he was still holding back. “And I get it. Even better now that I know that they even thought Josie was mine… but I had no one to talk to. I couldn’t call my pops, I didn’t have Steve…” He laughed bitterly. “I had you, which was worth it, but… There was so much I couldn’t say to you.”

“Then say it to me now.”

“No, because none of it matters now.” Javier raised his voice slightly, but caught himself. “You might have let me into your apartment and into your bed, but you kept me at an arm’s length for the rest of the time we spent in Colombia. And I couldn’t be mad at you because I was afraid of doing the wrong thing… and then you’d both be gone.”

“Because I refused to let myself believe that you wanted any of this.” You gestured around the condo. “We talked all the time and you never — ever — expressed an interest in having a family or having even a fraction of this.”

“Well neither did you.” Javier pushed his fingers through his hair, shaking his head as he looked away. “I thought everything else was all I would ever get.” He confessed. “After the bullshit I pulled with Loraine, I just figured… ship had sailed. I didn’t want it anyways.” He gave an incredulous laugh. “And then you came along and…”

“You were the best part of that move to Colombia. I was so nervous and terrified.” You shook your head. “That first week working with you and Murphy just felt right.” You smiled at him, “You felt right.”

Javier rubbed at the bridge of his nose with a heavy exhale. “I don’t do this shit. You’re not a fucking therapist and Steve has already been burdened with this goddamn baggage, but… I hate the man I was in Colombia. I still have nightmares—”

“I know you do,” You reached out and he took your hand. “I never meant to isolate you. I was so afraid that I wasn’t going to lose you.”

“You weren’t and you aren’t.” Javi told you with the faintest smile. “This wasn’t the life I ever pictured for myself, but it’s the only life I want now. But there is so much shit and resentment.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. “So much.” You laughed bitterly. “I’m sorry I left you.” You wiped away a stray tear. “I spend so much time thinking about that morning. How peaceful you looked, the way your arm felt around me.”

“You broke fucking heart. Didn’t even know I had one.” Javier squeezed your hand. “Why did you leave?”

“Shame.” You questioned, turning to look at him. “Fear.”

“Fear?”

You nodded slowly. “I thought I was going to be another stupid girl who fucked Javier Peña.” You stared at him, “And caught feels. You were so passionate and—”

“Because I finally had you.”

“I know now.” You shook your head, half-embarrassed. “I didn’t then. I thought that was just what you did. I thought it was all false promises and… I couldn’t cope.”

Javier pulled you into his side and you willingly let him, “I should’ve said something.”

“I should’ve too.”

You curled your arm around his middle and sank into his side. “I love you, Javi.”

“I love you too, baby.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “We need to… do this more often.”

“Is there more?” You laughed and tilted your head to look at him, your brows furrowed together.

Javier gave you a look, “I’m sure I can dredge up something.”

“Oh God.” You rolled your eyes. “Can we please just go back to what dicks the DEA are?”

“That’s a whole different conversation.” Javier said with an edge to his voice, shaking his head. “I fucking hate them.”

“Me too.” You chewed on your bottom lip as you stared at the TV. Whatever you’d been watching had transitioned into late night programming and David Letterman was running his mouth — a strange form of white noise as the background of your conversation with Javi.

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

“This wasn’t a fight.”

“I know that, but I just mean… I don’t want this to become something we fight about.” You tilted your head to look at him. “You know?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, brushing his fingers over your cheek. Javier held your gaze for a moment, before he leaned in to kiss you.

Oh.

You curled your hand around the back of his neck as you leaned into the kiss, letting your mouth slant over his with a little more need. He met your need with his own, his tongue sweeping out over your bottom lip. Your lips parted, granting him entrance.

He used the arm he had wrapped around his waist to pull you onto his lap. You straddled him, resting your hands on his shoulders. “Is this—” You pulled back and inhaled shakily. “How we’re handling this?”

Javier arched a brow and shrugged a shoulder, “If you’re up for it.”

“Bed.” You told him, leaning in to steal another lingering kiss before you removed yourself from his lap. “I don’t want to fuck you with David Letterman in the background.”

Javier followed you into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him before he joined you on the bed. He laid on his back first, before turning onto his side to face you. “We still good?”

“Javi, we’ve been good.” You reached out to touch his cheek. “But at least we’ve addressed the elephant in the room.” You scooted closer and kissed him. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

He rested his hand on your hip as he pulled you closer. “Me too.” Javier brushed his nose against yours before he kissed you.

You let his hair slide between your fingers and you groaned softly, hooking your leg over his hip in an attempt to get closer.

He rolled you over, pinning you beneath him as he settled between your thighs. His sleep pants were thin and so were your shorts, the fabric leaving nothing to be imagined. At least you weren’t the only who had reacted to the situation.

“Javi.” You begged quietly, fingernails digging into his skin through the soft cotton shirt he wore. You grabbed at it, dragging up and over his head. His mouth was on yours again a second later, teeth dragging over your bottom lip.

You hated that it had reached a fever pitch, but it had been a long time coming. You were both terrible at communicating with each other. You used to be better — even if you said a lot without saying anything. When you were just friends it was easy to share what was on your mind, without risk of hurting the other person. But you never did share the most important things.

Javier sat back on his knees and peeled your shorts and underwear down your thighs. He tossed them aside, watching as you tugged your shirt off. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby.”

“Shut up.” You laughed, nudging his leg with your foot as you looked up at him, a faint blush spreading across your chest. Javier caught your foot, fingers curling around your ankle as he held your gaze before he trailed his hand up your leg. He moved forward, settling between your thighs.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day.” Javi drawled out as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, before he lifted your legs and settled them over his shoulders. He dipped down, his tongue delving between your sensitive folds. His hands trailed over your legs, holding you steady as you squirmed beneath his ministrations.

Your lips parted with a breathy moan as your head fell back against the bed beneath you. “Javi.” You breathed as you pushed your fingers into your hair. He released one hip, sliding his hand over your stomach, grasping at your breast.

He swirled his tongue around your clit, lips wrapping around that little bundle of nerves and forcing you even closer to the edge. Your back arched and you rolled your hips against his mouth. His grip tightened at your hip, holding you down as his other hand roughly palmed at your breast, scraping thumb over your nipple.

Your release caught you by surprise, your legs trembling as the rush of pleasure coursed through you. Javier pulled back abruptly, but only briefly. He pulled your legs around your hips as he settled over you, shoving his sleep pants and boxers down until his cock was free.

“Please.” You whispered as you curled your fingers around the back of his neck and dragged him down for a kiss, tasting yourself on his mouth. A moan got lost between your lips as he pressed into you. The aftershocks of your release left you clenching around the length of him. He barely drew out before pressing back into you, hip-to-hip and you rocked into him.

Javier kept one hand at your hip, his other tangling in your hair as he cradled the back of your head. He kissed you desperately, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your throat and along your collarbone, before catching your mouth once more.

Your nails bit into his shoulders, his arms, wherever you could cling to him as a second release built on the wake of the first. Your back bowed up off the bed and you let yourself get lost in the sensation.

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, your name on his lips as his own orgasm claimed him. His hips stuttered, the length of him buried within you as you felt his release spill. You didn’t let him pull away when he started to, your legs tightening around him as you held him close. The weight of him pressing you into the bed, right where you wanted him. His hand found yours, interlacing your fingers together. He had always been so good at the little touches, the little efforts that revealed the depth of his emotions. He had, ever since that night.

Maybe you should have held onto him that night... when you hadn’t. You had been so afraid to believe that he meant all those little things. He had. But you could hold onto him now. And now that you had him, you had no intention of ever letting him go.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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halevetica · 5 years

Text

Couples Therapy(McDanno)

When Governor Denning had first approached Steve and Danny with the prospect of couple's therapy, Danny had thought it was a joke. He'd seen one argument between the pair and deemed them therapy worthy. It was a bit extreme if Danny was being honest. He and Steve had tried to argue the point only to find themselves bickering in front of the Governor for the second time. Danny is convinced that argument is what sealed their fate. If Steve had just let Danny talk, he was sure he could have convinced Governor Denning to dismiss the ridiculous idea. Instead they had been given the name of a therapist and a threatened to attend a minimum of two sessions a month.

That's how Danny found himself sitting next to Steve in a group session with five other married couples. Steve had the brilliant idea of combining their sessions in a weekend long couple's retreat. However, the Navy SEAL hadn't read the brochure correctly and now they were sitting between Dan and Phil who had issues in the bedroom, and Ruby and Sam who you would have thought were sworn enemies.

"Now what about you two?" The shorter woman who was leading the therapy session asked turning to Danny and Steve, "What would you say your biggest issue is?"

"Currently, the fact that I am trapped in this room," Danny quipped with a wave of his hand.

"She means between us," Steve huffed at the blonde.

"Oh we don't have enough time to get into that," Danny said crossing his arms.

"You make it sound so bad," Steve rolled his eyes, "I'd say our biggest issue is trust."

"That's what you think our biggest issue is?" Danny scoffed, looking at the SEAL like he'd lost his mind.

"Yes, I do."

"How about communication," Danny snapped, "Like you booking this retreat without consulting me first. Or how you neglect to tell me when you're about to enact an insane plan of which I have no knowledge," Danny threw his hands up.

"You should trust that I know what I'm doing," Steve countered.

"That doesn't mean I don't need to know."

"Okay so you both like to be in control of the situation, is what I'm getting from this. Commander, you want Detective Williams to trust you and Detective you want Commander McGarrett to give you some say. Is that correct?"

"Yes," They two chorused.

"You two aren't actually together romantically, is that right?" The woman asked looking down at her clipboard.

"No," The pair answered once again in sync.

"Uh huh," She pursed her lips as she scribbled something on her paper.

"Uh huh, what's uh huh. What you don't believe us?" Danny frowned at the woman.

"I didn't say that," She smiled with a shake of her head.

"Listen, Loraine," Danny said reading the woman's name tag, "There is no therapist in the world that could make a romantic relationship between Steve and I work. We barely deal with each other while at work, much less outside of work."

Loraine only smiled wider, "Do you agree, Commander?"

Steve who was frowning at Danny, turned his attention to the woman, "Uh, yeah, yeah I'd agree with that." He nodded turning back to Danny.

"Have you two ever been in a relationship with each other?" Loraine asked then.

"No."

"Have you two ever engaged in sexual activity together?"

"No," Danny scoffed, while Steve laughed.

"Perhaps that's your problem," Ruby piped in then.

"Okay nobody asked you. Why don't you worry about your own relationship and I'll worry about mine, okay?" Danny snapped. He hated everything about this. He didn't even do therapy when his and Rachel's marriage was failing, why was he so willing to with Steve? He could get a new partner, a new job even, yet here he was.

"We'll wrap up introductions for now. You have your itineraries. Be sure you're on time," With that Loraine collected her things.

Danny leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Just think, after this weekend we get two months off of Therapy. That's four sessions," Steve put a hand on Danny's back.

"I would have preferred we kept our regular sessions. This...this is torture. Have I done something to piss you off? Is this payback for something? Cause please, if it is, tell me so I can never do it again," Danny sat up causing Steve's hand to fall from his back.

"Look, I know this isn't exactly what I thought it would be but-"

"Not exactly what you- are you kidding me? In ten minutes we have an art class where we have to draw each other at our best," Danny gestured to the folded pamphlet he pulled out from where it had been tucked under him, "Then we get to enjoy a nice picnic lunch at our spot of choice before going and talking about our sexual compatibility." Danny's voice rose as he read from the paper.

"This could be good for us, you don't know. Keep an open mind. Be positive," Steve pat Danny on the back before standing.

"I hate you, Steven, with every part of my being, I hate you."

"See I know for a fact that's not true. You love me," Steve smiled widely at his partner before heading for the coffee maker on the other side of the room. He liked to pretend this was funny to him, but he felt bad. He'd screwed up and now Danny was miserable. He'd only wanted to stop seeing the awful therapist that they'd been assigned. When he'd approached Governor Denning with the proposition for four sessions off in exchange for a weekend long seminar this hadn't been what he had in mind. He only hoped they could make the best of it.

Danny stared down at his scribbled drawing of Steve. He had taken a few art classes with Grace when she'd decided she wanted to be an artist.

"Detective Williams that is a wonderful piece of art," Loraine spoke from above Danny's shoulder.

"You didn't tell me you could draw," Steve frowned leaning over to investigate. Steve faltered at the sight of what Danny had drawn.

"Grace decided she wanted to be the next Van Gogh last year so we took a few art classes," Danny shrugged.

"Tell me what's happening here?" Loraine frowned at the three figures. One appeared to be standing in a surrendering position, another was slumped on the ground while the third was knelt only a few feet away.

"I uh," Danny cleared his throat. He hadn't wanted to explain the picture. He could tell by the look on Steve's face he knew the scene well.

"We hunted down a suspect and he had a motion sensor bomb. It was trained on me. If I moved even slightly...I had to wait for the bomb squad. It took a while. Steve stayed with me and distracted me until they got there. He didn't care about the dangers," Danny explained pointing to the different parts of the picture.

"That's very loyal of you commander," Loraine smiled at the SEAL, "Why don't you explain yours."

Steve blinked at his stick figure attempt, "Well this is me tied up in the back of a truck in North Korea. Danny figured out I was in trouble and using his detective skills, found me and saved my life. No matter where I am in the world, I know he'll always find me," Steve smiled over at his partner.

"Why did you draw me half the size of everyone else?" Danny pointed at the tiny stick figure labeled 'Danno'.

"I wanted to make it as accurate as possible," Steve laughed.

"You're an ass," Danny laughed turning away from his partner and back to his drawing.

"This is very eye opening for me. Thank you two for sharing such personal moments," Loraine smiled before moving on to the next couple.

Steve was going to make a smart remark in response to Danny, but he was too enthralled with the way Danny was able to capture such an intense scene with nothing but a pencil.

"How'd you do that bit there?" Steve asked then, scooting closer to Danny.

"Here, I'll show you," Danny slid to an untouched part of the page and carefully demonstrated how to move the pencil.

Steve attempted to mimic Danny's exact movements, but the lines were too harsh.

"Here, loosen your grip a little, this isn't your nine mill, it's a pencil, you can relax," Danny chuckled placing the pencil in Steve's hand carefully. However, instead of letting go, he helped guide Steve's hand a bit.

"Oh, okay," Steve smiled seeing how Danny manipulated the lead to make his marks just right.

"You try now," Danny released Steve's hand then.

Once again Steve mimicked Danny's previous movements.

"Not bad," Danny smirked.

Steve was glad to see Danny in a better mood than before. He hoped lunch would be just as pleasant because then they had to attend a sexual compatibility class after, and Steve knew that Danny would be less than pleased to even humor the idea.

Danny sat with his arms crossed next to Steve. They were alone for this session of therapy.

Sexual compatibility.

Loraine was their therapist once again.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why we can't skip this one, we're not in an actual relationship," Danny gestured between him and Steve.

"I'm with Danny on this one," Steve nodded. He couldn't imagine what they would even talk about.

"That may be true, but I sense a bit of sexual tension between the two of you," Loraine spoke not looking up from her folder she was sifting through.

"I'm sorry did you say sexual tension?" Steve blinked at the woman like she'd lost her mind.

"I did," She smiled up at him briefly.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Danny frowned, his tone giving way to his irritation.

"Not at all, Detective. When two people spend so much time together, there is a natural tension that can be created without either of you knowing about it. Are either of you into men?" Loraine asked politely.

Steve and Danny stared at the woman with slack jaws, neither one daring to respond.

"I understand that admitting that can be difficult for some, especially when you're not sure how the people in your life will accept it, but I assure you this is a safe place and I truly feel your partner would be understanding," Loraine spoke kindly, her eyes darting between Steve and Danny.

Once again neither one spoke up.

"Perhaps we can start with something a little easier. Have either of you ever experimented with another man?"

Silence.

"Okay, how about I ask if either of you would judge the other based on their answer? Commander let's start with you, would you be uncomfortable upon learning that Detective Williams might be interested in men?"

Steve looked over at the tense blonde next to him, "Of course not, some of my best friends in the Navy were gay."

"And Detective, would you be uncomfortable upon learning that Commander McGarrett might be interested in men?" Loraine turned to Danny.

"No, not at all," Danny shook his head.

"Okay, now let's go back to the previous question, have either of you experimented with another man?"

"I dabbled, a bit," Steve said, clearing his throat.

"Very good," Loraine smiled at Steve's honesty, "Detective?"

Danny shifted in his seat some, "Yes." His tone was quiet, and he gave no details.

"Have either of you dated a man?" Loraine asked as she scribbled in her notebook.

"I have," Danny answered first this time.

"I've never dated a man, per say," Steve answered, his shoulders going rigid.

"Would you care to elaborate?" Loraine asked, looking with up curious eyes.

Danny frowned in confusion as well, his eyes glancing at his partner.

"In the Navy we didn't' get much free time. I was with...someone, but it was only ever...physical," Steve spoke stiffly and avoided looking at Danny.

"When you left the Navy did you ever think to reconnect with this person?" Loraine asked then, back to scribbling.

"No, we went our separate ways and I started...seeing someone else. When I left the Navy, she and I became official." Steve answered, the tension not leaving his shoulders.

"Are you still seeing this woman?"

Steve shook his head, "No."

Danny knew he was talking about Catherine.

"What about you Danny? Would you like to tell us about how your experience went?" Loraine turned to Danny once again, her eyes trained on him, pen in hand.

"Ummm, which...which one?" Danny swallowed thickly. He'd never told Steve or any of the team about the guys he'd dated. He hadn't been sure how they'd take it. Steve especially.

"How many men have you dated?" Loraine asked with a raised brow. It was clear she'd not expected it to be a regular thing.

"I don't know," Danny snapped with a wave of his hand, "It's not like I keep track. I dated all through high-school and college."

"When was the last time you were in a relationship with another man?" Loraine asked, her pen scribbling quickly across the paper.

"Before I moved to Hawaii," Danny huffed.

"Is there a reason for that?"

Danny could feel Steve's eyes on him.

"I was barely here six months when I started working with Steve. I wasn't sure how to tell him so I just...dated women," Danny shrugged. He avoided looking at his partner.

"Danny, I wouldn't have cared. We've been partners for years. How could you not tell me?" Steve reached out and placed a hand on Danny's back.

"You're a macho Navy SEAL, I didn't exactly think it'd go over well," Danny shrugged again.

"This is very good. You two have learned a lot about each other today. I feel this will help in your relationship at work. You can be more comfortable with each other," Loraine smiled at the pair.

"We weren't uncomfortable," Danny frowned at the red head.

"Perhaps not, but you also weren't your true selves," She smiled sympathetically.

Steve and Danny only exchanged glances.

"This has been a very productive session, and I'm sure you two will have a lot to talk about later. Our time is up, but I'll see you two tomorrow morning bright and early for couple's yoga," Loraine grinned widely at the pair as she closed her folder.

Steve and Danny walked quietly out to the beach. They had a few hours before they had to attend a 'romantic dinner for two'. They had decided to do a bit of surfing. Steve had promised Danny he'd teach him so he could surf with Grace.

"You should have told me, Danny," Steve spoke up finally, glancing at the blonde.

"What about you? You didn't say anything either," Danny pointed out.

Steve looked down at the sand, "His name was Nathaniel Price. He was in my battalion, but we never ran ops together. We thought it was safer that we didn't get too attached."

"But you did, didn't you?" Danny asked knowing that look on Steve's face. He was a detective and he knew his partner.

"He was a good soldier. I suggested we get together once on leave and...that's when he told me he was seeing someone. I was just something for him to do," Steve's voice dropped slightly.

"Oh, babe, I'm sorry," Danny put a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Shortly after, I asked out Catherine. Joe white had been asking why I hadn't done it yet. I didn't want him to know about Nathaniel."

"Wait, so Catherine was a rebound?" Danny asked with raised brows.

"At first, yeah," Steve nodded looking down at his partner.

"Man, you sure know how to pick 'em don't you?" Danny chuckled lightly.

"What about you? All yours worked out so well?" Steve demanded looking at Danny.

"I'll have you know before I was dragged to this pineapple infested island, I was with a great guy for almost a year. We agreed that a long-distance relationship wasn't going to work, and he understood I had to follow grace," Danny spoke defensively.

"And before him was Rachel I'm guessing?" Steve smirked.

"Yeah, that one didn't work out so well," Danny waved a dismissive hand causing Steve to laugh.

"So now that I know...are you gonna start dating guys again?" Steve asked, glancing at his partner with curiosity.

"I dunno," Danny shrugged, looking off at the waves rolling in, "What about you?"

"Sure, if one catches my eye," Steve nodded slightly.

Danny felt his stomach knot in a way that surprised him. He dismissed it quickly.

"Maybe I'll get that Sam guy's number, there's no way he's totally straight and even less way his marriage is gonna last," Steve chuckled.

Danny tried to find it funny, but the knot he felt only tightened. Was this jealousy? He'd never been jealous of Steve dating before. Of course Steve never talked about dating a guy before.

"That's your type then? Tall? Dark hair?" Danny found himself asking the question before he could stop himself.

"Honestly, no," Steve spoke, his eyes on the horizon, "Nathaniel was average height and blonde."

Danny rose a brow at his partner, "So more like Lynn then?"

"Yeah, sort of," Steve agreed with a nod.

"But Catherine..." Danny frowned at Steve, eyeing him carefully.

"Was the total opposite of Nathaniel and a rebound, remember? Besides it's not like I can't stray from my type," Steve shrugged.

Danny didn't respond, he didn't know how.

"You okay?" Steve asked, looking at the blonde with slight concern.

"I'm fine, are we gonna surf or we gonna talk all day? Cause I for one have had enough talking for one day," Danny quipped as they approached the water.

It was in that moment that Danny was glad Steve wasn't the detective, he might have picked up on the jealousy. The fact that he was jealous at all was baffling to Danny. It made him think about what Loraine had said about their being possible sexual tension between him and Steve. Was he just frustrated because he hadn't been comfortable enough to pursue the men he'd been interested in? Or was he interested in Steve?

The knot tightened at the thought that he might have feelings for Steve. That wasn't something he was prepared to handle.

Steve opened the door to their shared room, halting at the sight in front of him.

"One bed?" Danny groaned.

"I didn't know," Steve shrugged innocently.

Danny dropped his bag on the floor in front of the lone bed.

"It's only one night," Steve pointed out. He felt guilty. He knew how frustrated Danny was about this whole trip.

"Crashing your couch for a week was hell, much less sleeping in a bed next to you," Danny quipped recalling the week he'd been looking for a new apartment.

"What are you talking about? We had so much fun," Steve nudged his partner playfully.

"Fun? Fun? I don't call fighting over the remote, fun. Or arguing over who got to pick dinner, or what time the tv went off," Danny scoffed sitting on the edge of the bed. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly. He'd spent all evening sitting across from Steve at their 'romantic dinner' trying to tell himself that he didn't have feelings for his partner. Now he had to share a bed with him?

Steve noticing Danny's frustration took a seat next to the blonde, "Look, man, I'm sorry I screwed up. I just wanted a break from therapy, and I thought this would be more tailored towards work partners not...life partners," Steve apologized.

"I know. I just hate therapy. There's a reason I didn't try it with Rachel. Adding a third person to your problems only creates more," Danny huffed, looking up tiredly at Steve.

"You think being here is going to make things worse?" Steve frowned. He thought today had gone well, considering.

"She thinks we have sexual tension, Steven. As if we didn't have enough to worry about, now we have to question that too."

Steve's frown deepened, "You're worried about that?"

"How are you not? We're both into men apparently. Maybe she's right," Danny threw his hands up in frustration.

"What are you saying?" Steve asked, the frown not leaving his face.

"I don't know what I'm saying," Danny waved a dismissive hand and dropped his head.

"Danny-"

"I'm gonna take a walk, it's been a long day and I need a minute," Danny cut in then. He stood up and headed for the door.

Steve watched as his partner walked out. He wanted to follow but he knew when Danny needed to be left alone and right now was one of those times. In fact, he was actually relieved because now he was alone and he could use that time to call Chin.

Chin answered on the third ring, "McGarrett, I wasn't expecting to hear from you until tomorrow? How's the retreat going?"

"Not good," Steve sighed out, "I accidentally signed us up for a couple's retreat, as in married couples. Danny hates me and I'm not sure what to do because I think I'm in trouble."

Chin laughed, "Danny will get over it, but I may schedule a few days' vacation for him, if you're worried."

"No, it's not that...it's..." Steve trailed off.

"What's wrong?" Chin asked sensing Steve was genuinely stressed.

"Remember that guy Nathaniel I told you about?" Steve asked. He had accidentally mentioned it to him one night a while back.

"Yeah, the SEAL you were with for a time, right?"

"Yeah, well Danny knows now too and not only that, but I learned that Danny's into guys too. Our therapist thinks we have sexual tension. I never really though anything of it before but I think she's right. We've had to do all these couply things and Chin, I think I have feelings for Danny," Steve's tone was stressed as he paced the small room.

Chin chuckled through the receiver, "I could have told you that bro."

"What do you mean?" Steve paused mid step.

"I've seen you two together. You would do anything for him. You used to do things with him you wouldn't do with Catherine or Lynn," Chin explained.

"You knew I had feelings for Danny, and you didn't tell me?" Steve scoffed at the phone.

"I thought you knew. I didn't know if Danny felt the same way, so I never pushed it, but knowing he's into dudes too, I'd say there's a pretty good chance the feelings are reciprocated."

"I don't think this is just some crush on my cute partner, Chin. I think I'm full on in love with him. I can't act on those feelings. What if he doesn't feel the same way. I can't lose him. He's my best friend and my partner, I can't risk doing anything to detriment that," Steve was back to pacing once again.

"So what are you gonna do? Ignore how you feel?" Chin asked.

Steve let out a huff, "I don't know."

At that moment Danny walked back into their room.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Steve said quickly before hanging up.

"Everything alright?" Danny asked glancing curiously at the phone.

"Yeah, just Chin checking in," Steve lied, shoving his phone into his pocket.

Danny only nodded before toeing his shoes off.

"You okay?" Steve asked, he could see the look on Danny's face meant that he wasn't.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Danny asked dismissively.

"Cause you've got a look," Steve pointed out.

"I don't have a look."

"Yes, you do. It's your 'I'm so stressed I'm about to explode' face. Which is usually followed by a loud outburst of you yelling at me," Steve crossed his arms.

"I don't want to yell at you, Steve," Danny sighed.

"I don't believe you."

Danny looked over at Steve with tired eyes. He'd taken a quick walk to try and clear his head, but all he could think about was Steve and how he was completely head over heels for him. How was he supposed to deal with that? How was he supposed to work along side his partner knowing that he wanted more from their relationship than he would ever receive?

"Danny, are you worried about the sexual tension the therapist mentioned?" Steve asked, his tone full of concern.

"Do you think she's right?" Danny held his breath as he waited for Steve to respond.

"Do you?"

"I asked you first."

"I asked you second."

"Are you serious right now?"

"Why do I have to be the one to answer?"

"Because I asked you first," Danny threw his hands up. They were acting like children.

Steve grabbed Danny's wrists, pinning them to his side as he stepped in close, "Does it feel like sexual tension to you?"

Danny swallowed hard. He wasn't sure how to respond. He wanted to lean in and kiss Steve so bad, but he couldn't tell if Steve wanted that.

"Do you want to kiss me or punch me in the face?" Steve smirked at the blonde.

"Can't I want to do both?" Danny asked. His eyes suddenly went wide at the realization of what he'd said.

Steve faltered for a moment. He had been sure Danny would push him away.

Danny took a step back, causing Steve's hands to fall from Danny's wrists.

"Danny," Steve took a step forward. He could tell him. Chin thought Danny felt the same way. What if he was right?

Instead of saying anything more, Steve took another step towards the blonde.

Danny didn't make a move to back away.

Steve's eyes fell to Danny's lips before jumping back to his blue eyes.

Danny's tongue shot out, licking along his bottom lip.

Steve couldn't take it anymore. Surely Danny felt it to. The tension was so thick he was practically chocking.

Steve closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Danny's softly.

Danny took in a sharp breath as Steve's mouth closed over his. His eyes shut as he melted into Steve.

Steve's hand came up to cup the side of Danny's face, bringing Danny back to life.

"Steve," Danny pushed his partner back slightly.

Steve pulled back, his eyes apologetic.

"I can't do this. You mean too much to me. I don't just want to be something you do," Danny's eyes dropped in shame.

"Danny, I would never," Steve frowned at the shorter man, "I want this. Us," Steve's thumb traced along Danny's cheek as he spoke.

"If we do this, it's all the way," Danny shook his head. There was no way Steve would want that.

"Danny, I don't think you understand. Now that I know you're even an option for me, I don't want anyone else. I love you, Daniel," Steve spoke honestly. This was it. This was the moment of truth. Danny either felt the same way or he didn't.

Danny surged forward, attaching his lips to Steve's. "I love you too," He spoke into Steve's mouth.

Steve's shoulders slumped in relief. This was really happening.

Loraine had been wrong, it wasn't sexual tension at all. It was love.

Consider buying me a coffee, I would really appreciate!

#mcdanno #mcdanno fic #steve mcgarrett #danny danno williams #ficlet #one shot #my writing -h #couples therapy #not my best #gonna post it anyway

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lunarxdaydream · 4 years

Text

38 - I’m a bad kid

• Mark the ones your muse has done. • Use your result as your post title. • Please repost and don’t reblog!

Tagged by: stolen from @shctteredillusions Tagging: @vacuitas, @thecircusfreaks, @aimhleas, @ot0gibanashi, @huronnade

Loraine Ardell

[ ✔ ] consumed alcohol [ ✔ ] slept in the same bed with someone of another gender [ ✔ ] slept in the same bed with someone of the same gender [ ✔ ] kissed someone of another gender [ ] had sex [ ] had someone in your room other than family [ ] seen porn [ ] bought porn [ ] tried drugs TOTAL: 4 [ ✔ ] taken painkillers [ ] taken someone else’s prescription medicine [ ✔ ] lied to your parents [ ✔ ] lied to a friend [ ✔ ] snuck out of the house [ ✔ ] done something illegal [ ✔ ] felt hurt [ ✔ ] hurt someone [ ✔ ] wished someone to die [ ✔ ] seen someone die TOTAL: 13 [ ✔ ] missed curfew [ ✔ ] stayed out all night [ ] eaten a carton of ice cream by yourself [ ] been to a therapist [ ] received a ticket [ ] been to rehab [ ] dyed your hair [ ✔ ] been in an accident [ ] been to a club [ ✔ ] been to a bar TOTAL: 17 [ ] been to a wild party [ ] been to a Mardi Gras parade [ ✔ ] drank more than three alcoholic beverages in a night [ ] had a spring break in Florida [ ✔ ] sniffed anything [ ] wore black nail polish [ ] wore armbands [ ] wore t-shirts with band names [ ] listened to rap TOTAL: 19 [ ] dressed gothic [ ✔ ] dressed girly [ ] dressed punk [ ] dressed grunge [ ✔ ] stole something [ ✔ ] been too drunk to remember anything [ ✔ ] blacked out [ ✔ ] fainted [ ✔ ] had a crush on a neighbor TOTAL: 25 [ ✔ ] had a crush on a friend [ ] been to a concert [ ] dry-humped someone; been dry humped [ ] been called a slut [ ] called someone a slut. [ ] installed speakers in a car [ ✔ ] broken a mirror [ ✔ ] showered at someone of another gender’s house [ ] brushed your teeth with someone else’s toothbrush TOTAL: 28 [ ] considered Ludacris your favorite rapper [ ] seen an R-rated movie [ ] cruised the mall [ ✔ ] skipped school [ ] had surgery [ ✔ ] had an injury [ ] gone to court [ ] walked out of a restaurant without paying/tipping [ ✔ ] caught something on fire. [ ] lied about your age TOTAL: 31 [ ] owned/rented an apartment/house [ ] broke the law in the police’s presence [ ] made out with someone who had a GF/BF [ ] got in trouble with the police [ ✔ ] talked to a stranger [ ✔ ] hugged a stranger [ ✔ ] kissed a stranger [ ] rode in the car with a stranger [ ✔ ] been harassed [ ✔ ] been verbally harassed TOTAL: 36 [ ] met face-to-face with someone you met online [ ] stayed online for 5+ hours straight [ ] talked on the phone for more than 4 hours straight [ ] watched TV for 5 hours straight [ ✔ ] been to a fair [ ] been called a bad influence [ ] drank and drove [ ] prank-called someone [ ] laid on a couch with someone of another gender [ ✔ ] cheated on a test TOTAL: 38

If you have 00-10 … write [I’m a goody-goody] If you have 11-20 … write [I’m still a goody-goody] If you have 21-30 … write [I’m average] If you have 31-40 … write [I’m a bad kid] If you have 41-50 … write [I’m a very bad influence] If you have 51-60 … write [I’m a horrible person] If you have 61-70 … write [I should be in jail] If you have 71-80 … write [I should be dead] If you have 81-90 … write [I got a ticket to Hell]

#( Loraine || musings )#( don't mind me as i do a few more for other muses )

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letterstosestrilles · 6 years

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Dear Tyko,

Doesn't Alma keep you busy enough at work? I'm pretty sure I proofread school papers from you that were significantly less exhaustively researched and cited. Are you thinking of going back to school to be a professor or something? (Fine, fine, thank you, I appreciated the links and the encouragement. Adventuring isn't always good for the psyche, nor is it a lifestyle particularly conducive to sitting down and having regular appointments, even long-distance, with therapists. I know I'm doing a lot better than I think I am, most days, and that I shouldn't hate myself for making the best decision I could under the circumstances.)

Things have been much quieter since I last wrote you. Mostly, we've been visiting all our friends around the settlement: Alorven, Niko, Ren and Seb, Loraine and the children, everyone at the science center (but mostly Eheba, who I've spent some private time with as well). Maliah seems steadier, after being as upset as I was after the hydra, and Squirt is enjoying the woods and the occasional company of Gwynne, Ren and Seb's dog.

(Cloudleaper is also enjoying Gwynne's company. Possibly more than anyone else's, though it's impossible to tell.)

With Alorven, we cleared brush, and were glad to have something useful to do that didn't involve us having to kill anything. She also introduced us to a very friendly bobcat, which was a nice reminder that not all the wildlife on this planet is out to kill me. With Niko, we talked about weaving, and a very little about how she's settling into life on this plane. Maliah showed Ren and Seb her bow, since they're fond of the legends of Perrick, and they were suitably impressed. The children are pleased to show off everything they've been learning, from Loren with some magical lighters (one of which she kindly gave to Maliah) to Jesson with a portrait of Squirt made out of yarn (also, come to that, kindly given to Maliah. I thought she might cry at that one).

At the science station, I've helped tune up a bit of tech and Maliah has been involved in their cartography efforts, and it's nice to make myself useful. On top of that, we're getting to hear about all the experiments everyone is up to, just all the study that goes into looking at a frontier planet and just what's on it.

In between everything else, we finally decided that our little team ought to have a name. It started for the silliest of reasons: I decided to look myself up online, to see if we've been making any news for some of our more public efforts, mostly on Honione and Rugira Prime. However, I didn't know any newspapers from either planet and didn't quite know what terms of search to use, so I had to give that up, and I admitted to Maliah and Cloudleaper that it might be easier to keep abreast of that kind of thing if we named ourselves.

It was much harder than it ought to have been—aren't bards supposed to be able to come up with the perfect thing to say? But Cloudleaper said something about chaos that sounded rather negative, and then Maliah said holding onto the Chaos idea wasn't bad. Cloudleaper suggested Electro-Magnetic Pulse, for Elyn Maliah Pika, and when I pointed out that she's not Pika and we wanted her included, said she could pretend to be her, which broke my heart a little bit, not that she'd have patience for it if I said so. I suggested Electro-Magnetic Chaos, to marry the ideas, and Maliah suggested the Chaos Machine, and after some debate, we decided on the former, because it can be easily shortened just to our initials.

(And also, I have to admit, because Maliah realized those initials could also stand for the Emergency Mom Collective or Commission and we do have a habit of rescuing children when we can.)

So we are officially Electro-Magnetic Chaos! It feels a little silly, having such a mouthful for a name, but it's memorable, and should be fairly easy to search for, if I do as I should and start keeping better track of what kind of word is out there about us. We'll register the name somewhere, though I don't think we're in a hurry to, and it's maybe a little belated, but maybe having Cloudleaper join the team has inspired us, even if she's every bit as opaque and maddening as Pika.

Tomorrow will be our last day before we get on the Seles Emsel to go back up to Mir and start figuring out what we can about these smugglers (how do you even track smugglers without a ship of your own? I think our best bet is to find a ship leaving Mir with a likely high-value target and offer ourselves as security, with some explanations, but maybe Athan will have other ideas for us). We're planning to have all our friends from the settlement come to the inn for a lunch, which Maliah refuses to call a party, and I'm looking forward to just having the time to relax and chat and tell stories and maybe have a little jam session with Maliah and Ren and anyone else who sings or plays an instrument.

I'm sure I'll be treated to another rendition of Perrick's ballad, but I definitely don't mind. Especially since I'll get to take my harp out again!

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: tyko #episode 48 #location: nosirion 1 #person: maliah #person: cloudleaper #person: alorven #person: eheba #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#people: devon and loren #people: others on nosirion 1 #seeing the sights #downtime #looking ahead

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ellena-asg · 2 years

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McDanno and their "work" relationship problems in 6x11. The more I rewatch this, the more I see this:

"I don't want to sit next to him (Steve) for a number of reasons", says Danny to Alissa. "Plus, I don't want to have to, you know, jump over him, give him a lap dance if I got to go use the little boys' room".

Steve's face when he hears "no sitting next to him", "no lap dance":

(Danny's pov: "When he is so close, when I feel him, um... it drives me crazy and... Oh, great. I'm trying to confess and he... he's making "Stop this, Williams" face. Ok, I'll stop".)

"Yeah, see, the state of Hawaii mandates that we do 24 hours of therapy every working year, and so we packed it into one weekend and we're gonna make a, uh... a brocation out of it", says Steve to Alissa.

Danny's face when he hears "brocation":

(Steve: "Brocation, Danny. Hear this, you little annoying sweet... BROcation. What will you say, huh? Yeah, you said "no sitting next to you, no lap dance" so know how it hurts. By the way please, please, say there's nothing bro in our relationship. Say that you hate incest or something... Danny?").

Steve wants them to have a nice evening. "Well, you know, I-I have a girlfriend, so I don't think I'm gonna be much use", says Danny.

"Why don't you relax?" - that's Steve's answer.

Ok. Why does it sound like "Why Melissa? Why do you live in that constant stress? In forced relationship? Why... Look, I'M HERE", hmm? 😉 (Oh, and he doesn't even remember about Lynn).

(Danny's pov: "Alissa? Alissa and her buddy? Seriously, Steven?! I dream about a night with YOU, you know... just me and you finally together... This night, next day, forever. And you... You wanna take some girls?! Can't you see that... Ugh. You shmuck. You pissed me off. But I won't tell you. I will say "girlfriend". "I've got girlfriend". And I won't go with you. I will go to our room and you know what... I'm gonna cry alone in the darkness").

"You, uh, you signed us up for couples therapy. You're an idiot", says Danny.

Steve's face aka "Idiot? Oh, Dan, how... Easy, McGarrett. Just easy. Pretend you are sorry".

(Danny: "Don't you see that... Arrgh. Idiot!").

"Why are you still here?", Keren asks. Steve:

Face #1 aka Excuse me? DON'T.

Face #2 aka Why? Why?! Cause there's a very serious problem!

Steve's face: "We're here cause Danny doesn't see, uh, very obvious things. And, you know, I'm deeply frustrated".

(By the way... look at Danny 😂 "Well... Um... We're here cause... You know, it's Steve's fault. It's... Steve's fault. And, you know, our dear governor sees MORE than this... this "supposed to be Super Seal" does. Yeah, Steve is fucking blind som... Always").

Keren about Steve and Danny: "They're not a couple".

Keren's husband: "They're stuck in a relationship they can't get out of, they fight all the time and they don't have sex".

Steve:

Face aka Yeah. It's me. I'm stuck in "I'm in love with my best friend and... I don't know".

"Oh, Danno. I don't wanna talk about it with a therapist. Damn, you are my best friend. You are the only person... I should share my secrets just with you, you know. But I can't. It's... not easy. Damn".

(Danny: "Keren's guy is right, you know? Oops, no. You don't know! I would talk with you but... Being in love with your best friend is a tragedy... sometimes").

Steve's face aka Yeah. So many years together. No sex. Huh, no kisses! No "I'm in love with you, Steven" or "Be my hubby, bff". I'm grateful for his friendship. It means a world, you know. But I like him AND love him and can't have both. Face aka "whoah, whoah, WAIT...".

"That Keren's guy sees that, a stranger sees that and...".

"And my Super Sherlock... *sob*".

Loraine: Note his caring, loving and gentle touch.

Steve's face aka Thank you, Loraine!

Face aka Can you say it louder, Loraine? I wanna Danny to hear that.

(Danny: "I hate you, I hate you, you don't love me. You pushed me! You wanna have drinks with girls, I hate you so much...").

Steve aka Oops, Danny is hurt. I'm a jerk, I know. Oh Danno, I only wanted to make you jealous... You know... Sometimes I feel that you love me like I love you but sometimes I have no hope. Green light, Danno. Just give me more green light.

Steve: You awake?

Danny:

This is the face "Seriously? Would you sleep knowing that I went somewhere with someone and... Oh fuck you!".

Steve: You ever hear of the power of positive thinking, Danny?

Danny:

Danny "So you think I'm Mr Negative, ha? Wait! That's why... Why you and I can't..." Williams.

Steve aka Why we can't just kiss aka Life is not fair. #too tired #don't wanna do a cargument in bed, Danno

Loraine: This is about you and Steve.

Steve: This is not about me. (#life is cruel)

(Danny: "Whoa, whoa, NOT about YOU?! ALL what I say and do is because of you!!!).

Danny: *talking about the past with Rachel* (and it doesn't matter that he's bitter, very bitter - right, Steve? 😉).

Steve's reaction:

Danny:

Looking like "Ok, I was so honest. I... I said: Let's not overanalyze everything in our lives, Steven. I said: That's enough when guys love each other, Steven. I said: That's enough to ME, Steven. I said: That's commitment. You... Still don't understand, Steven".

Steve *sarcastically*: I really feel like we made some progress here this morning. That was really good. Really good stuff!

Danny: *talking about Rachel again*

Steve:

Danny: *literally saying that Rachel wanted to save their marriage and he... he didn't want, his heart didn't want that*

What Steve hears: I WONDER WHAT IF...

Steve: MAYBE YOU WOULD NEVER HAVE MET ME - HOW ABOUT THAT?! (jealous Steve is jealous)

Danny:

*Oh, THAT would be a real tragedy* *So good I have you, babe. Just... have you*.

*Yeah, we're so lucky, so happy together* (Both: "Hmm... I should be more positive. Yeah, be positive, man. Try. Maybe you will see the green light. Maybe he... Maybe he, you know...").

Danny is like "I'll share that burger... No. I'll give him my burger. Steve, it's a sign. I'm giving it to you and imagine that this burger is... my heart".

Steve:

Being like "I love your burger! But... Danny. We are here together and we don't do the things together... I need your presence, sunshine. All the time".

Danny is like:

Touch my hand. That soap is great. Feel me. I'm here. I love you.

(you know what, Steve was right from the very beginning - they should have tried that soap just when they came there! 😁)

#Hawaii Five-O #h50 #McDanno #h50 meta #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #walking disasters

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pumpkins-s · 7 years

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What if Loraine was still alive and went to Kerberos with Sam, Matt and Shiro? What if she's kicking galra ass and part of space pirate crew an year later??

(On AO3 as Prison Toys)

Pidge gets used to not talking about Kerberos.

Mostly. Somewhat. Little bit.

She has her moments, when it all gets to be too much, and she doesn’t think she can sit through another five minutes of talk about where Kerberos went wrong and what we can learn from it lectures in class without screaming. When she snaps and fights back with sharp words off a barbed tongue of barely controlled grief against Iverson or whichever asshole has opened his mouth on that particular day. But for the most part, she learns to keep her mouth shut.

For the one, it’s a necessary evil to put up with their excuses, their lies, in order to protect her identity. Katelyn Holt could throw a fit and threaten a Garrison officer for talking shit about her family, for leaving them to rot in the cold depths of space. Pidge Gunderson cannot.

Pidge Gunderson, for all intents and purposes, is just a single child from a nice, Midwestern family, with a private school education and an interest in radios—on paper, at least.

Still, what’s on paper is all Pidge has left anymore. She knew the consequences of her mission, and accepted them as a necessary sacrifice. All that she was is now obsolete, and she must become the illusion to the best of her ability.

Besides, it is…tiring, not to be believed all the time. The Garrison, her former friends, even her mother, none of them would listen. Why waste time now arguing with people who won’t ever understand, when it will be easier to prove them wrong.

Which she will, she’ll prove them all wrong. She will find the truth if it kills her.

She thinks about them a lot lately, especially now that she’s here, in the Garrison. Her family, her father and brother, are of course never far from her mind, but the others too—Shiro, who had been Matt’s friend so long he was practically family himself. And the woman, Pidge’d only met her a couple times, but she’d seemed nice enough. She remembers her mentioning having a little sibling around Pidge’s age, someone who looked up to her, someone to come back to.

None of them deserved—do deserve—to be abandoned like this.

She will bring them home, all of them. Bring Matt and her father back to herself and her mother, and the others to their own families.

As far as she knows, all Shiro’d really had was Keith, in terms of family or close friends outside of Matt or…whatever that was. Regardless, they’d been important to each other, and that’s about as far as she cares about it.

Pidge’d only seen Keith the once, after Kerberos. The same day she’d broken into the Garrison, and had been dumped in the waiting room of the commander’s office while Iverson called her mother to come pick her up, already working on her plan to get back in as she sat stewing. She’d stared at him from across the room in their respective plastic chairs, at the scowl on his face and the large, fresh bruise spreading across his cheek, and wondered just what had happened to the kid she used to know that followed Shiro around like he’d strung up the sun.

“What the hell happened to you?” she’d asked bluntly, and he’d snorted.

“McClain’s brother punched me.”

McClain. Lieutenant McClain, Shiro’s co-pilot. The one with the starry smile and the little sibling she’d been planning to take photos for in space.

“Why?”

Keith had shrugged, looking mildly uncomfortable and almost guilty, and her stomach had churned. “Some new report came out about the pilot error they think might have caused the crash, and I told McClain it must have been his stupid sister that was driving the damn thing when it happened, because Shiro would have never made mistakes like that.”

She’d tried to imagine what it would be like if the world was saying the crash was Matt’s fault, and shook her head. “That’s just cruel.”

“…I know,” he’d said, and she decided the undirected misery in his eyes made him look like the most pathetic creature alive. “But I just needed someone to blame. I don’t want it to be Shiro’s fault.”

“Do you really think they’re dead?”

“I don’t know,” Keith shook his head. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

From the next room over, through the window, she’d seen Iverson hang up the phone, and she’d stood, sneering. “If you refuse to go looking for answers just because you’re afraid of what you might find, you’re nothing more than a coward.”

It wasn’t until after Iverson had come back, and led her to the door, that she’d heard Keith whisper. “Yeah, probably.”

After that, he’d just been another non-believer no longer needed in her world.

She’d not heard anything about him until long after that, when she’d returned to the Garrison as Pidge, and realized the position in the fighter class her new teammate had just inherited had been Keith’s previous one. He’d been expelled, apparently. Some combo of telling his Garrison-assigned therapist to go fuck herself, threatening an officer, and breaking into the file room to look through the Kerberos records.

Well, at least he’d done something.

It didn’t matter either way, she’d decided. Keith wasn’t her problem. They’d never been particularly close to begin with, and she’d realized discarding her identity meant leaving all things, including former interpersonal relationships, behind. Katie may have been sort-of-friends with one Keith Kogane, but Pidge Gunderson was not. If they ever met again, they’d be nothing more than strangers.

Besides, she didn’t—doesn’t have time for friends, now. The mission is more important than anything else, no matter what that anything else may be.

Which is something she kind of wishes her new teammates would realize, because they really…really haven’t.

On some level, she understands the desire to try and get along with your teammates. Her father had always stressed that team cohesion is key to a mission’s ease and success, and so as far as that logic extends she can get why one might try to build a rapport with the people they’ll be stuck working with for at least the next year or two. But at some point, you have to be willing to accept when someone doesn’t want to be your buddy, and move on. A memo her beloved teammates have not gotten, apparently.

It’s mostly the engineer, Hunk. He talks in this loud, booming voice to try and fill up the empty spaces between the three of them, hands always fiddling with one another and eyes twitching nervously to the corners of each room as if looking for some inevitable danger. When he speaks to her, he always seems to instinctually look well above her head, as if expecting someone else to be walking with them as their third, before correcting himself and dipping his head to see her. Pidge doesn’t belong here, that much is obvious to her, but it doesn’t stop Hunk from clinging. Mostly to their other teammate, but to her as well, always ready to shuffle up to her side and follow her walking path one step too close behind. It’s infuriatingly like how her mother behaved towards Pidge after her father and brother went missing, as if she expected her to vanish at a moment’s notice, and it leaves her with a sick feeling in her stomach that only makes her hate it all the more.

Hunk’s not a bad person in the slightest, even given his annoying habits, but he’s too soft. Too warm and well meaning, and all the more likely to get cut on the barbed wire of her hate-riddled soul. He doesn’t deserve the mess Pidge is looking to make of the Garrison, and so she pushes him away at every opportunity. Running from kind, ramblings words and unsteady smiles, leaving him to care for his other self-proclaimed ward.

Said ward being their team’s pilot. Lance. Lance is—well, she doesn’t know quite what to make of him, honestly.

He’s all these mismatched, odd ends. Sewn together with rough twine that cuts the hands and salvaged thread of all colors that can’t quite keep him together.

Sometimes he’s loud and boisterous, posturing grandly and bouncing off the walls with all this excess energy and not a second thought. Other times he’s serious and methodical, all narrowed eyes and a sharp, steely focus that could cut with just a glance.

Mostly he’s just…quiet.

It’s his eyes that get her. They’re a dark blue that look as if they should sing of the ocean, of crashing waves and salt-kissed lips and birdsong. But, no matter whether he’s the enthusiastic force of the tides, the single-minded focus of the sniper, or the silent shadow at Hunk’s side, his eyes always just seem…dead. Like the life was sucked out of them an eternity ago and he just kept moving regardless.

Broken, she decides. He looks broken—in all the ways she might look, if she wasn’t wrapped up in layers of clever lies and anger-made chainmail to protect herself.

Lance tries, occasionally, to be nice to her. The first time they met, he was in one of those firecracker moods, vibrating with enthusiasm, until he turned to see her, and she got her first glimpse of those dead eyes. He’d frozen in place, completely silent—something she later learned was just a thing that happens with Lance— and Hunk had smoothly taken over introductions. Following that, he’d been almost overly friendly, but after the first couple times she made it clear his presence wasn’t wanted beyond when it was required, he mostly left her alone. Now he just watches her with shrewd, wary eyes she can’t quite puzzle out, and doesn’t bother her so long as she keeps up in simulations.

He’s got a kind of unwavering dedication to the program, to climbing the ranks as soon as possible, that Pidge just can’t understand. Maybe once upon a time she wanted to go to the Garrison out of genuine interest and a desire to further the world with her work, but after everything that’s happened, all she feels is disgust for this place. It’s built on a foundation of rigorous hierarchy and self-preservation that she can’t stand with a loathing that runs deep into her bones.

This is the place that sent four innocent people into space and then left them to die. The only reason she’s here is because she has to be; she’d never willingly follow their rules of her own volition.

And—okay, yes, most people don’t have the reasoning she does, but Lance is almost unnerving. He sits through every lecture about how they’re just not cutting it, each hurled insult about him being the replacement pilot, with the same polite smile fixed in place, those empty eyes always present.

If he knows genuine anger, he doesn’t seem to show it. To Pidge, who has coated herself in her own righteous fury as both sword and shield, he is an enigma. A glitch in the code that is the Garrison she should be able to understand and manipulate perfectly, free from the consequences of her old life and name.

Hunk isn’t much better, in all that unnamed, terrified grief she can’t quite make sense of, but at least she can get some genuine read on him when she looks at his face, on how he’s feeling and what he might be thinking.

She tells herself she doesn’t care, one way or another. So she has a couple weird teammates. She severed herself from everything else—from Keith, her friends, her school, to her own mother—so why should this be any different? Pidge can’t afford to get caught on the spikes of whatever the hell it is Lance and Hunk are dealing with.

All that matters is the mission. The high-range broadcast equipment she smuggled into her room under the guise of Pidge Gunderson’s documented high school radio interest, and the photo of Matt and herself tucked under her pillow.

All else is secondary. All else is meaningless.

Pidge only sees Lance snap the once—after she picks a fight with another cadet, a real fight.

She doesn’t mean to. Normally she knows better, she’s not Keith for God’s sake. She is usually controlled, keeping an iron-tight grip on the lid of her simmering pot of anger, but it is one of those days where she could not sleep without Matt’s imagined screams in her dreams. Where she stood silently between Hunk’s fidgeting and Lance’s blank stare through another of Iverson’s lectures, and felt the fury of a daughter without a father and a sister without a brother coil in her chest.

It’s one of those days where it’s all just too much, and when she hears some idiot from the cargo-level training class talking shit on his phone in the otherwise empty hallway about how stupid the Kerberos crew must have been to crash a Garrison ship, when the simulators built to match are so easy to fly, she just…breaks.

She’s on him before she can think, kicking and hitting everything she can reach and screaming until her voice runs raw and jagged. For a moment, Pidge feels like the storm, crashing down on those that would dare stand in the way of her pain, of her righteous vengeance in the face of what she’s lost.

And then Lance and Hunk yank her off and away from the boy.

Pidge comes back to herself in a rush, the shame boiling over—not at her actions, because that prick got what he deserved, but at her loss of control. Only then does she notice Hunk’s shaking hands where they grip her arm to keep her from attacking the boy again, the tight dig of Lance’s nails into her shoulder that she doubts is intentional but bites regardless. She looks up to them, and Hunk is ashen and trembling, as she might expect, but Lance…his eyes are narrowed at the cadet they just yanked her off of, and for the first time they look not dead but freezing with a kind of hate she never expected from someone like him.

Suddenly, she feels not so much like stormy water itself as she does the child dragged under by its currents.

Perhaps they’re both the two of them, herself and Lance, more broken than she gave them credit for.

They end up in the commander’s office, awaiting a disciplinary hearing, unsurprisingly, and Pidge finds herself sitting in the same chair Keith was, all those months ago. She figures it’s appropriate.

Despite Hunk and Lance being the ones to break up the fight—if it can even be called that—they all wind up in front of Iverson’s desk. They weave a lie of how the boy shoved Pidge first in perfect unison, not even hesitating, and she sits through the rant of one more incident, boys, one more incident and you’re out with her nails digging into her palm. She bites her tongue so hard she tastes blood to stop herself from screaming at him, and she decides to count that as a success.

Where’s my family, her heart whispers despite it all, where the fuck is my family you absolute bastard. She shoves it down where it cannot be heard as they’re escorted out of the office, and tries not to meet her teammates eyes once the door into the hall shuts behind them.

Lance turns on her instantly, those suddenly alive eyes cutting into her. “What the hell was that? Are you trying to drag us all down with you?”

She sneers on instinct, wanting nothing more than to go back to her room and just not think for a while, the sooner the better, even if it means being cruel. “It’s not like I asked you to get involved, fuck off.”

Pidge turns to leave, and Lance grabs her arm. She shakes it off with a scowl, wheeling around to face him again, and the hurricane descends on her. “You’re not the only one with something at stake here,” Lance snarls. “We’re a team, Pidge. You may not care about whether you ever graduate or not, but I do, and I’m frankly not in the mood to wait while they try to find us another communications officer because you’re trying to get your ass expelled! I need this to work, ok?”

“What would you know?!” she screams, and the blood in her mouth tastes like grief. “What the hell would you know about why I do the things I do?”

Lance straightens up, and the anger in his expression is gone, lost to a cold indifference that leaves her feeling tiny. “Not all of us have the luxury of time or circumstance to defend echoes that can’t hear,” he says. “You may be one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, but if you can’t be bothered to do a basic Google search on your own teammates, then you’re an idiot. What the hell do you even know about me?”

He’s right, Pidge has to admit, and she shrinks beneath his gaze. She’d never wanted anything to do with the two of them beyond what is necessary, and has studiously avoided trying to learn any of the details of who they are. She knows the names they’d given her, their speaking habits, and their grades in class, and that is the extent of it.

She hadn’t wanted the attachment, hadn’t wanted to care. The less of a life she has as Pidge Gunderson, the more of Katie Holt she can save within herself, even if she may never be able to reclaim it as her own.

Lance scowls, and turns. “C’mon Hunk, this is a waste of time.”

He makes it five steps, Hunk trailing unsurely behind him, casting glances back at Pidge all the while, before she breaks.

“They’re not dead!” she screeches, an echo of the question she’d asked Keith, and she doesn’t quite know why. “I know they’re not dead.”

Lance stops.

“You’re right,” he says, and Pidge’s world shatters.

No one has said this to her before, has acknowledged the lie as Pidge has known it for the better part of a year, and it takes her breath away.

“You’re right,” Lance repeats quietly. “They’re not dead. I’d know if they were, trust me. But—“ he glances over his shoulder at last, and those sea-storm eyes are filled with a kind of sympathetic understanding that makes Pidge want to claw her skin off. “You can’t get what’s missing back with scanners and radios. If you want to find a lost thing, you have to go looking for it yourself, and you can’t do that stuck on the ground.”

He disappears down the hall, dragging Hunk with him, and Pidge is left standing there, lost in her own head.

Later that night—much later, after curfew when the lights have been shut off—she powers up her laptop, and hacks the Garrison student records. It’s the work of five minutes, being so low down on the security priority list that she enters with full confidence of avoiding detection, and she pulls up the fighter-class simulation teams in order to sort by her own and find Lance’s file.

When she does, the realization that she’d never bothered to learn Lance’s last name, hadn’t even considered, hits her like a train, and her world rewrites itself as she stares down at the tiny letters glowing on her screen. Silently, she closes her laptop, and crawls into bed, trying to ignore the words swimming behind her eyelids.

Lance. Lance. Lance effing McClain.

Objectively, she knows that she needs to get some rest, that they have simulation testing tomorrow, and she cannot afford another fuck up—still she tosses, still she turns.

Across the room, illuminated by a sliver of light from the window, the poster of the Kerberos crew that she’d tacked up as a reminder of why she’s here is thrown into sharp relief. Moonlight dances across a picture of a young woman with blue eyes, a smile of stars, and the name below her.

Loraine McClain, co-pilot.

Sleep doesn’t come for a long time after, for neither Pidge Gunderson nor Katelyn Holt.

The next morning, dead eyes, nervous fingers, and barbed wire hatred go back to work, same as usual. They don’t talk about it, for better or for worse.

It is what it is, after all.

Everyone always wants something they can’t have back. That’s just the way of their world.

#Pidge #Lance #langst #voltron #my writing #the SLAOS AUs #I r e a l l y liked this concept #sorry if it's not quite what you were going for there lol #Anonymous #asks #questions for Nik #Prison Toys (Voltron)

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