#stitch me back together chapter 29 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

photogirl894 · 4 months

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"Sun and Rain Part 2: Age of the Empire"

Chapter 29

"All Too Easy"

A "Bad Batch" fanfic!

Pairing: Hunter x fem OC, Echo (more best friend pairing)

A/N: Back again, my lovelies! Another new chapter just in time before Bad Batch season 3 (y'all, I am NOT ready 😫😫)

However, I wish I could say this chapter will be all sunshine and rainbows...but I'd be lying 😅 Cuz you know, we're on Bracca...we all know what happens there. Also, I skipped over a couple parts of the episode for the sake of brevity and cuz I didn't wanna split it into two chapters 😝

Enjoy anyway!!

Taglist: @the-sad-batch , @nimata-beroya , @intrepidmare , @cole-kenxbi , @tech-aficionado , @ladykatakuri , @d1n0-dan , @sammi9498 , @darthzero22 , @scarlettrose9901 , @thebadbatchscyare , @chxpsi , @ilikemymendarkandfictional , @4pplecider , @locitapurplepink , @l-lend , @nekotaetae , @eternalwaffle , @merkitty49 , @avathebestx , @idoubleswearimawriter , @techs-stitches , @fantasyproductions , @sverdgeir

《 Chapter 28

》 Chapter 30

All chapters (Part 2) (Part 1)

Explanation: While still on Bracca, things take an awful turn for the Bad Batch.

Kimber found herself somewhere in the middle of the Bracca shipyard, sitting on an edge and watching the sun setting in the distance. For the first time in a long time, she felt content; like everything was back to the way it was.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a sunset,” said a familiar, nasally voice.

She turned and smiled at Crosshair, who had just seated himself beside her. He was back in his Bad Batch armor, which made her smile even more.

“I’d imagine. The sun isn’t seen much on Kamino,” she said.

He didn’t say anything and just simply grinned.

“I’m glad we get to watch them together again,” Kimber told him, nudging him lightly with her shoulder.

His arm came up round her shoulders and he answered, “Me too, sunshine.”

Her smile grew even more as she laid her head on his shoulder. Hearing him call her “sunshine” again on top of him just being there made her happier than she could ever put into words. This was the way things were meant to be; the way they should always have been.

As the sun got lower, her eyes drifted down slightly and watched the line of the sunlight going down Crosshair’s body. However, as it descended, she noticed something was happening to him. As the sun line passed, his armor was shifting from red and gray to black...changing back into his Imperial armor.

Just as the realization hit her, Crosshair’s hand that had been resting on her shoulder suddenly moved up and grabbed her roughly by her face, pulling her up right next to his head.

“Did you really think it was going to be that easy?” he hissed in her ear.

“Crosshair--!” she gasped, but he silenced her by moving his hand up over her mouth.

“I’m not coming back for you,” he said with a growl. “You’re leading me straight to all of you, which is what I want. You will be Clone Force 99’s downfall.”

She struggled against his hand. “No!” she cried.

There was a rumble next to her ear as he chuckled, amused. “I’ll be seeing you soon…sister.”

Next thing Kimber knew, he shoved her off the edge and sent her falling towards the ground. As she hurtled towards the ship parts down below, she heard Hunter’s voice crying out for her, followed by the sound of a blaster shot and then Omega screaming for Hunter.

Kimber jolted awake with a gasp and it took her a moment to process that she was out of her nightmare and back inside her bunk in the Marauder. It had been a while since her last one.

The bed shifted slightly and Hunter came into her peripheral vision. “Kimber? Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare?” he asked her, laying a hand on her arm.

It took her a moment to compose herself and then she nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he then inquired.

Any other time, Kimber would’ve relayed her dreams to him without question, but this was a different situation. Her nightmare had been about Crosshair and in order to explain why, she would have to tell him about the conversation she’d had with him prior…as well as all the messages she’d secretly sent to Crosshair for weeks. Despite not wanting to keep secrets from Hunter, she knew she had to keep this a secret for now. Hunter hadn’t been very receptive to talking about Crosshair for some time now, which was part of why Kimber had to cope with Crosshair’s absence in a different way. If Hunter found out what she’d done, it would not go over well. She just figured it’d be better to reveal everything once Crosshair came and she could explain everything. Hopefully once he and the others knew that Crosshair was going to get his chip removed, they’d be more receptive to him and then everything could go back to normal like they all wanted.

Instead, after taking a deep breath, she just responded to him, thinking it would be enough to deter him, “It’s nothing…I dreamt that I was drowning and being pulled underwater by the dianoga we faced earlier. It just…startled me.”

Hunter seemed convinced and just gently hugged her close to him. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I'm here, you’re safe. Nothing’s gonna hurt you.”

She snuggled up closer, nestling her head in his shoulder and taking in his warmth. “I know.”

Instead of leaving Bracca right away, the Bad Batch had decided they would stay the night and rest and then figure out their next plan the following day. They were all exhausted from the day’s events, so luckily they all rested well. Then the next day, Wrecker and Omega went out for a while because they’d found a thermal explosive and, realizing there could be lots of them throughout the shipyard, Wrecker wanted to teach Omega how to disable an explosive as a precaution and test her.

Hunter and Tech stayed behind at the cruiser while Kimber and Echo went out on their own, as well, to just kind of scout the area as well as seeing what else they could find.

“Keep your eyes out for any scrappers,” Echo warned Kimber as they walked through the shipyard.

“Got it,” she answered.

Though, as they kept going and searching, she kept her eyes on Echo. Something about him seemed off and she couldn’t exactly place why. Maybe he was just still recovering from the surgery and wasn’t quite feeling himself at the moment. Though, she still couldn’t help but wonder if it was something else.

“Hey…are you okay, Echo?” she inquired. “You seem a little…off this morning.”

He stopped and sighed loudly. “I’m fine. I just…I talked to Rex last night sometime before he left.”

“Oh? What did he say?” she asked.

Her best friend looked a little dejected as he responded, “He told me of his plan to find other Clones and get their chips out. Not only that, but he’s hoping to build up a network to resist against the Empire eventually. I just think we should’ve gone with him instead of staying here.”

She then understood his predicament and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve always been unwaveringly loyal to Rex as well as your reg brothers. I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do.”

Turning to face her, he asked back, “Do you agree with me, Kim? Don’t you think we’re meant for more than this? There’s more we could do to fight against the Empire and helping Rex build up a resistance would be better suited for us.”

She gave it thought for a few seconds and replied, “If we were up against the Separatists, I would’ve agreed in a heartbeat…but this is the Empire we’re now facing, an enemy of a much grander scale than they ever were. Not to mention an enemy that’s hunting us specifically. It’s better for us to remain under the radar the way we are now.”

“But think of all the good we can do for the galaxy if we’d gone with him,” he countered.

“I know and I don’t disagree,” she said back. “Perhaps, one day, we will be able to join up with Rex and help him find more Clones, but it’s just not the right time for us at present. That doesn’t mean we still can’t help in our own way, but we have our own problems to figure out first.”

Still mildly dissatisfied, he turned away, diverting his gaze to the ground.

However, Kimber brought her hand to Echo’s cheek and gently guided his eyes back to look at her. “You’re not wrong for wanting to do more. I understand what you’re thinking, I do. The time for greater bravery will come. We just need to wait everything out until that time comes.”

“I’m just impatient,” he stated.

“I know you are,” she said, nudging him with her elbow.

“I don’t want us to have to keep working for Cid. It’s a waste of our time and skills,” he added. “You know she’s just using us to make money and doesn’t care about us at all.”

She rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I know. I don’t like working for that miserable, old dragon lady either. It’s not ideal, but we still have our debt to pay and it’s just what we have to do for now.” Then she muttered, “Though, I’m half-tempted to see if Kida has any family funds she can pull from to just cover our debt and we can get out of it.”

“I’m sure she’d do it,” he commented. “At this point, I’d try anything.”

However, Kimber shook her head and said back, “No, I won’t do that. We’re not that desperate yet.”

Then Echo groaned in exasperation. “You really had me going there.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” she said with a chuckle.

He bumped her with his shoulder teasingly, causing her to laugh a little more.

Just then, Echo’s comm chirped and they heard Hunter’s voice, saying, “Echo, Kimber, head on back to the cruiser. Get Wrecker and Omega, too.”

“Copy that,” Echo replied.

Putting her hands on her hips, Kimber declared, “Well, let’s go find the two troublemakers.”

The two of them ventured off and didn’t take them long to find Wrecker and Omega as they heard Wrecker loudly yelling, “Too late! Run for it!” in the distance.

“Something tells me Omega messed up on diffusing the explosive and he’s messing with her,” Kimber commented to Echo.

He snickered. “Good thing he thought to use a smoke bomb,” he responded.

They made their way over through the wreckage until they came to a hill, where down below they spotted Wrecker teasing Omega about being afraid of a smoke bomb instead of a real explosive. Echo called down to the both of them, telling them to pack it in because Hunter wanted them all back at the cruiser. Then both he and Kimber jumped down from the ledge they were on to meet up with the other two.

“How’d the test go?” Echo asked Omega, who looked frustrated.

To further confirm that she was, she looked away and grumbled, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Cheer up, kid. I failed my first disarming test, too,” Wrecker reassured her. “With my help, you’ll be a pro in no time.”

“I failed my first, too,” added Kimber. Then she smirked up at Wrecker and said, “I think Wrecker’s just a lousy teacher.”

“Ouch, that hurts,” replied Wrecker, feigning pain by putting a hand over his chest before punching her lightheartedly in the arm. “I’ll remember that the next time you want a swimming lesson.”

They all laughed and proceeded to all walk together back in the direction of the cruiser. However, as they were walking, they could see light reflecting off of something in a crevice nearby and realized it was a scrapper watching them. Echo and Kimber then spotted more than one hiding together, watching them.

Keeping casual, Echo muttered under his breath to warn the others, “We’ve got eyes on us.”

“Yeah, I see ‘em,” Wrecker replied quietly.

“How many?” Omega whispered.

“At least three,” Kimber answered.

“Stay casual,” Echo told them. Then turning slightly over his shoulder, he asked, “Wrecker, Kimber, you ready?”

Wrecker responded, “Waiting on you.”

“Ready when you both are,” answered Kimber.

They all threw on their helmets and took off running towards the scrappers, hoping to catch them off guard. It seemed to work because once the scrappers saw them coming, they panicked and started running back to their large, round speeder. Wrecker was quick with his blaster rifle and was able to stun two of the three, but the last one managed to dodge the stun blast and got the speeder ready to take off.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Wrecker cried out, grabbing the edge of the speeder to keep it from leaving. However, as he grabbed hold, the one scrapper started to speed away, taking Wrecker with them. “I've got this under control!” Wrecker called over his shoulder.

“Not good,” Kimber commented. Then she got on her helmet comm right away and said, “Hunter, Tech. We were spotted by scrappers.”

Then Omega chimed in, “Wrecker is in pursuit. He says he has it under control.”

“Kimber, get a visual,” Hunter ordered over the comm.

“I'm on it!” she answered.

Quickly, she looked around for a good vantage point. The scrapper was driving in circles around the area in an attempt to shake Wrecker off. There was a tall, makeshift hill made of ship parts just a couple yards away that would help her.

“Echo, cover me!” she cried out as she took off towards the hill.

Without question, Echo followed after her, keeping his eyes out for the scrapper’s speeder coming back around.

Kimber climbed up to the peak of the hill, getting her rifle ready as she reached the top and crouched down. She raised it up, peering through her scope as she looked for the scrapper.

“Kim, on your left!” she heard Echo call to her.

As he did, she saw the speeder come around a corner just as Wrecker let go and dropped to the ground into a roll. The scrapper zoomed by, passing just meters in front of her.

“I don't think so,” she said out loud as she took the stunning shot.

She hit her mark and the scrapper fell unconscious at the wheel, sending the speeder crashing into a wall and the driver was thrown from the speeder over a ledge.

As she stood up and rested her sniper rifle on her shoulder, Echo commented, “Nice shot.”

“I still got it,” she replied, giving a confident shrug of the shoulder as she started walking down to join him.

They jogged over to where Wrecker had landed and where Omega was now handing him his things he'd dropped in the pursuit.

Kimber asked him, “Are you okay, Wrecker?”

He took his blaster rifle from Omega and responded as he put it on his back, “I was just waiting to make my move.”

Chuckling, she replied, “Of course, you were.”

“Come on, let's grab the scrappers and then meet back with Hunter and Tech at the cruiser,” ordered Echo.

After gathering all the unconscious scrappers, the four of them went back to the cruiser just as it was beginning to get darker outside. Hunter told them he wanted to go through the ship and gather as many weapons from inside as they could in order to clear their debt with Cid. Tech also indicated he could gather intel from the ship's central system that could be worth selling, as well. Omega and Wrecker were indifferent to the situation, but Echo didn't fully agree with it, arguing that they were soldiers, not arms smugglers. Kimber understood both sides. Echo was still stuck in the past of being a dedicated soldier as well as wanting to fight more against the Empire, but they were in a difficult predicament with Cid and Hunter was doing his best to try and get them all out of it. They wouldn't, at least, be doing this for forever. Hunter didn't leave much more room for debate as he stated they had to take this opportunity while they could and retreated inside the ship. The others went after and Echo was the last, following reluctantly.

Everyone was going to the artillery bay while Tech was heading for the bridge to gather the intel as well as getting the power to the ship back online. Kimber decided to go with him in case he needed any help. The bridge was dark inside, save for some natural lighting coming from outside and the occasional sparks that fell from the ceiling. Once they got there, Tech began pushing a few buttons and switches on the central console.

“Will this banged up cruiser still have power left?” Kimber asked him.

“Most Venator cruisers have rather large power reserves that last a long time,” Tech informed her as he started doing some scans on his datapad. “Even if the ship is out of commission like this one, it's still possible to tap into the backup power.”

After his scans were done, he began trying his hand at the buttons again until finally, there was a hum that emanated from the console and spread through the bridge. The lights on the switches flashed on and the ones in the room flickered dimly.

He activated his helmet comm. “The power's back on,” he told the others.

“Yeah, we can see that,” Wrecker responded.

“Nicely done, Tech,” said Kimber. “Now the question is: is there still salvageable intel in the central system?”

“A question I intend to answer momentarily,” he stated as he got to his knees, laid down on his back and inched underneath the main console, getting out his welding pick.

While Tech got to work, Kimber glanced outside the viewport at the landscape full of crashed ships and wreckage of all sorts. The sky was beginning to get cloudy and dark as evening was falling. Her gaze wandered up to the sky for a moment, wondering when Crosshair would be arriving. After she’d told him where they were, he said it wouldn’t take him long to get there. It was a bit difficult to determine if she was excited to see him again or not. While she was glad to know he was coming back so they could all be together again, she had a feeling the meeting with the rest of the squad wasn’t going to go over all that well at first. Especially with Hunter. Despite that, she was certain they’d be able to get things worked out. After that, they’d get Crosshair’s chip out and then they’d be a complete family again.

After a short, contemplative moment, she shook her head and brought herself back to the situation at hand. She peeked down at Tech, who was still prodding away with his welding pick. “How’s it looking?” she asked him.

Coming out from under the console, he responded to her, “We’re in luck.” As he then plugged in a cord connected to the console into his datapad, he informed her, “Whoever scuttled this ship didn’t wipe the hardware’s data imprint. I’m transferring the files, but I still need to copy the master drive.”

“I can do it for you,” she offered.

Tech then withdrew a computer spike from his belt and told her the master drive was under a certain panel on the console. Kimber took the spike and was about ready to plug it in when a button on the console started flashing red.

“Tech, this button’s blinking. Isn’t this the proximity sensor?” she asked him. He’d taught her a couple things regarding ship controls, but it had been a while since they’d last discussed such topics, so she wasn’t entirely sure of what the button was off the top of her head.

He came out from his spot, stood up and walked up next to her. “You are correct. It signals when there’s an approaching vessel. It’s most likely a short circuit,” he answered dismissively.

Right then, they both heard the sounds of incoming ships…and to their surprise, three ships zoomed overhead of the cruiser.

Recognizing the types of ships they were, Kimber stated aloud, “Those are Imperial attack shuttles.” The Empire had found them! But how?

Immediately, Tech got on his comm and said, “Hunter, we’ve got company.”

Hunter’s voice came through, inquiring, “Is it more scrappers?”

“No…it’s the Empire,” Tech answered.

“You’d better get up here,” Kimber added over the comms.

“I’m on my way,” Hunter replied.

Tech quickly unplugged his datapad from the central console and started typing things out on it right away. Kimber went up to the console, got down onto a knee, withdrew her sniper rifle and set it on the console, using the long-range scope to keep an eye on the shuttles. How had the Empire discovered where they were? Had they gotten to Crosshair? Is that how they’d figured it out? She saw Imperial Clone troopers exiting the two shuttles on the sides and forming up in lines outside. The middle shuttle was the last to let its troopers out.

It didn’t take long for Hunter to get to the bridge. Just as he got there, he took out his binoculars and watched the last group of soldiers coming out of the shuttle. “That must be the command shuttle,” he pointed out.

Just as he said that, a group of soldiers in dark armor dismounted the shuttle with one soldier at the front without a helmet…and Kimber’s blood ran chill.

It was Crosshair.

Hunter sighed and then said, irritated, “It’s Crosshair, all right.”

Kimber couldn’t move or speak as she watched Crosshair through her scope. No…it couldn’t be. He was supposed to come alone; he was supposed to come back to them. Yet there he was with an entire battalion of soldiers to come after them. Then it all hit her at once what was going on.

Crosshair had used her.

He had lied to her and, in her desperation to have him back, she’d given him their location, thinking he’d been truthful about his intentions…which now, she realized she should’ve known better. He still had the chip in his head, so why would he suddenly show interest in returning to them? How could she have been so stupid?

“Oh no…what have I done?” she whispered, her rifle lowering.

Behind her, Tech relayed to Hunter, “He won’t be able to detect us. I’m blocking their scanners.”

“That won’t stop him…,” Kimber told him in a low voice. If she knew her old partner, this was not going to be an easy escape from him by any means.

She felt Hunter’s hand on her shoulder and when she looked up at him, he told her, “Don’t worry, we’ll get out of this. Come on.”

As he turned and ran out with Tech, Kimber had a feeling he was mistaking her reaction for fear at seeing Crosshair there. This was not going to be good. Preparing herself for whatever was to come, she put her rifle back in its place on her back and followed after Hunter and Tech.

They found Echo, Omega and Wrecker already waiting for them outside of the corridor that led up to the bridge. Echo had a cart full of crates--most likely filled with weapons or artillery of some kind--and Wrecker had a proton torpedo resting on one shoulder and another crate slung over the other.

“How many troopers we talking about?” asked Echo as they all came together.

“Three attack shuttles’ worth,” Tech told him.

“We already got what we came for. Let’s get to the Marauder,” suggested Wrecker.

“Wrecker’s right. We need to move now and fast,” added Kimber.

Hunter stated that they needed a covert way out since Crosshair and the Imperial troops were already on board the cruiser. Echo suggested they alternate corridors as he predicted the Imperials would do a forward-to-aft sweep. With that plan in mind, they moved quickly yet quietly through the corridors. Tech was tapping into the enemy's comms to monitor their movements. At one point, they had to hide in one of the halls to avoid detection as troopers came marching through. Just as the soldiers left, Tech got through into the enemy's comms and they heard Crosshair's voice give his orders: to push the Bad Batch towards the hangar…which was where they were already headed. With that in mind, Hunter told them to cut through the artillery deck instead, hoping to get ahead of the Imperials.

As they went, Kimber could feel her anxiety building with every step. If they ended up crossing paths with Crosshair here, she was in huge trouble. He would definitely reveal how he figured out where they were. If they somehow managed to elude him, she could easily lie and say she didn't know how the Empire found them…but she knew it would kill her even more to lie and keep such a secret from her boys. Even more so from Hunter.

Soon, they got to the artillery deck; a long, wide room with several huge cannons aimed through the sides of the walls. Echo, Tech and Wrecker went and peeked over the edge to see the long drop down to the ground.

“Okay, I'm not going out that way,” Wrecker stated nervously.

“Hopefully, we won't have to,” Kimber assured him.

“There they are!”

Doors on all sides of the room burst open and suddenly, the Bad Batch found themselves surrounded by the Imperials. Wrecker, Echo and Tech ducked behind one of the cannons while Hunter drew his blaster and pushed Omega behind him. Kimber pulled out her rifle and positioned herself behind Omega, keeping the girl protected between her and Hunter.

Then a voice she hadn't heard in person for some time spoke up mockingly behind her: “Tapping our comms to track our movements? So predictable.”

“Blast! He really does know our every move,” Kimber thought to herself. Slowly, she looked back over her shoulder and sure enough, there was Crosshair, standing on the other side of the room with his rifle aimed at them and several Imperials standing behind him, all with their weapons drawn.

Wrecker scoffed aloud and peeked out from behind the cannon. “Nice to see you, too, Crosshair,” he retorted sarcastically.

Kimber gulped at seeing Crosshair. She had a bad feeling about this.

“Look at you all, scavenging like rats,” Crosshair taunted them, his attention on Hunter for the moment. “How pathetic.”

“Why come after us?” Hunter demanded.

“You're traitors,” Crosshair answered, giving the signal to the other soldiers to surround them.

“Crosshair, wake up!” Hunter pleaded. “You're being controlled by an inhibitor chip.”

Kimber’s grip on her rifle tightened. “Oh no….”

Then Omega stepped out and said, “He's telling the truth. The Kaminoans put chips in all the Clones.”

She was about to say more, but Crosshair interrupted her, “I know all about the chip already.”

“What? How? When?” Hunter asked.

There was a small moment of silence before Crosshair gave his answer. Three words that changed everything:

“Kimber told me.”

She flinched at hearing him say her name and she clenched her teeth together, having been dreading this moment. Then she could feel everyone's eyes on her. Then she turned fully around to face Crosshair, ignoring the fact that Hunter was staring at her and glad that she couldn't see the inevitable look of shock and disappointment underneath his helmet.

“What is he talking about, Kimber?” Hunter asked her, a slight tremor in his voice.

Before she could answer, Crosshair spoke up in a snide, condescending tone, “Oh…she didn't tell you, Hunter? She's been sending me secret transmissions for weeks, pleading for me to come back. I knew the moment I decided to answer her and play along, she would tell me anything in her desperation to get me to come back...and she gave me everything I needed. She led me straight to you.”

All the Clones’ eyes were back on her. However, Wrecker then cried in defense, “Kimber would never do such a thing!”

“If you don't believe me…ask her,” Crosshair jeered back.

“Kimber…please tell me he's lying,” Hunter implored her. “Please tell me you didn't do what he said.”

She turned away in shame for but a moment and then looked back at Crosshair, her anger boiling within her. “You used me,” she said, seething. “I thought you wanted to come back. You manipulated my feelings and you betrayed me!”

“You made it all too easy,” he said back dismissively.

“A mistake, I swear I won't be making again,” she vowed, raising her rifle up and aiming it at him.

Crosshair stepped forward. “I suggest you drop your weapon--”

Suddenly, the cannon next to them where Tech, Echo and Wrecker had been hiding behind activated and fired a shot, causing a kickback in the machine that slammed into Crosshair and his troops and knocked them off their feet. The rest of the room trembled from the shot, but the Bad Batch used that to their advantage. They all began firing at the remaining Imperials around them that were still standing. Some of the ceiling began to collapse and they had to jump out of the way of the falling debris. Once it seemed the way was clear, they all ran at Hunter's orders towards the doors on the other side. They were stopped in the doorway by a trooper who shot a jet of flame at them with their flamethrower, but Wrecker was quick to act and he launched his proton torpedo at them, knocking them back.

“Direct hit! Yeah!” he cheered before picking up his other case and running with the others.

“I've got a plan to get us out of here! Follow me!” cried Tech.

They didn't stop running until they reached a corridor that they were able to seal the doors behind them so the Empire's forces couldn't pursue them. For further insurance, both Tech and Hunter welded the edges of the door together.

Once they finished, Tech stated, “There. That should keep the Empire at bay for now.”

Kimber stepped up and stated, “Guys, I can explain.”

“I don't want to hear anything right now,” Hunter abruptly cut her off, simply walking past her.

Echo then asked, “Hunter, shouldn't we at least hear her out?”

Stopping and turning back, Hunter responded, “Nothing she says will matter if Crosshair or the Empire catches us, so let's get out of here.” Then without waiting, he continued onward.

The rest of the boys looked back at her for a second and then kept walking after Hunter.

Kimber stood there, watching them walk away and doing her best to fight back tears. She knew she'd messed up big time and now, her boys were angry at her. Hunter, more than the rest…which she'd predicted right away. They all were now paying the price for her mistake. Even if they all made it off of Bracca after this, it wasn't going to feel like a victory at all.

She felt a hand on her arm and she looked down to see Omega looking sadly up at her. “Don't feel bad, Kimber. I'm sure you had your reasons for doing what you did,” she tried to reassure her.

“I thought…I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was helping him…but he lied,” Kimber replied.

“He can't help it. It's not your fault,” Omega said.

“The boys won't see it that way,” said Kimber.

Omega took her hand and began pulling her along with her. “They'll come around. I'm sure they will.”

Unfortunately, Kimber did not agree with that sentiment, but she chose to say nothing as the two of them went after the rest of the squad.

They were led into the ion engine chamber of the Venator, where Tech stated it was their ultimate egress off the cruiser. They made their way deeper into the chamber all the way to the other side that led to the outdoors. However, as they came to the edge of the engines, a shot rang out that nearly hit Tech and Hunter had to catch him before he fell out. To their dismay, Crosshair had headed them off and had been waiting for them outside with another shuttle of Imperials. Hunter ordered everyone to double back, but as they did, they felt the whole engine starting to rumble. Hunter surmised that it sounded like the engines coming back online, but he didn't think that was possible. Although, Tech countered saying that it was possible since he'd restored the ship's main power core when he accessed the central system, so the engines could technically still be activated.

“Crosshair wouldn't do that…would he?” inquired Omega nervously.

“Honestly…I wouldn't put anything past him at this point,” Kimber grumbled.

The air around them began to swirl around and get ducked into the engine as the engine continued powering up. They wondered what they could do and couldn't come up with anything right away. Wrecker suggested Plan 7, but was quickly chided by Echo who reminded him that Plan 7 had nothing to do with their current situation whatsoever. Luckily, Hunter and Tech speedily devised a plan to use the explosives from the armory on the cone of the engine to break away before the engine engaged. They each took an explosive and placed them where they could around the ring of the engine. The quaking intensified, which meant that the engine was close to activating and they were running out of time. Wrecker took out the control to activate the explosives and everyone got down to the ground just as he pressed the button. The explosives all went off, severing the cone from the engine with multiple small explosions. Once that happened, the floor beneath them lurched along with them. The cone fell straight down and they had to run along the floor, which soon turned into a wall they had to climb and grab onto to keep from falling. Soon, the engine cone hit the ground and lurched again, causing most of them to fall. Wrecker caught Echo, but Hunter and Tech fell a few feet and landed on a ledge. Omega landed right onto Hunter and he tumbled over the edge, but quickly flipped back and grabbed the ledge with one hand while holding Omega against him with the other. Tech caught Kimber’s hand and halted her fall.

“Hang on, Kimber!” he called to her.

The cone began to lean again, prompting them to get back to their feet, but seconds later, it crashed and split down the middle. Kimber felt the ground beneath her jolt and she fell backwards as the half she fell into started rolling. Her body rolled and she was getting tossed about painfully, colliding with the ridges of the cone for a few moments until finally it stopped rolling. It took her a second to get her balance and regain her bearings. Once she got to her feet, she realized that Hunter and Omega were close by, but there was no sign of Echo, Wrecker or Tech.

Just as she was about to get on comms, Echo's voice came through in her helmet: “Hunter, Kimber, we landed on the port side. What's your status?”

Hunter looked over to see Kimber was with him before answering, “We're by the engine and we've got company.”

Just then, one of the shuttles flew overhead and shot down at them. Fortunately, it missed, but the shots came close to hitting them.

“Meet back at the Marauder,” Hunter ordered the others as he and Omega took off running.

Kimber followed them for a few yards until they ducked behind a large metal pillar to stop and catch their breath.

“Do you think we'll make it back all right?” asked Kimber.

“You'd better hope we do. You're the reason we're in this mess in the first place,” he spat back.

“Hunter, I'm sorry,” she said with despair, his stinging remark cutting deep.

“Let's hurry,” he said before running again, seemingly ignoring her apology.

The three of them ran as fast as they could, making their way through all the ship wreckage back in the direction of where they had parked the Marauder. All the while, they kept their eyes out for any Imperial shuttles in the sky.

They climbed their way up into the area where the ship was and were surprised to see a docked Imperial shuttle next to the Marauder and a few Imperial soldiers…all lying dead around the ship.

“What happened to them?” Omega whispered.

Hunter and Kimber stealthily moved forward to examine the closest dead soldier.

“Someone's here. This wasn't the scrapper's handiwork,” Hunter stated quietly.

Then another voice; a deeper, alien-like voice spoke nearby, “Wasn't much work.”

All three of them looked up to see someone leaning against the open doorway to their ship. A Duros; a blue-skinned, red-eyed alien with tubes attached to his neck, who was wearing brown leather armor and a wide-brimmed hat. Two blasters rested against his hips in their holsters. Whoever this guy was, he looked very dangerous. Very much like a bounty hunter.

“Omega, get behind us,” Kimber told the young girl.

The newcomer casually strode down the steps of the ship towards them, being followed by a small boxy Droid hovering on two boosters in its legs.

He said to them, mostly to Hunter, as he nonchalantly took out a toothpick and put it between his razor teeth, “I've taken down so many Clones over the years. Once you figure out one, the rest are easy.”

“You're in for a surprise,” Hunter challenged him.

“I doubt that,” the Duros responded.

Omega then observed aloud, “He's a bounty hunter.”

“Ain't you smart?” the now-confirmed bounty hunter said to her sarcastically. Then he said as an aside to his Droid, “The kid's got it all figured out.”

Kimber took a step forward. “Don't you dare speak to her.”

“Better watch yourself, missy,” the bounty hunter warned her, “or things are gonna get messy real fast.”

The little Droid then taunted them in a higher-pitched voice, “You're in trouble now.”

“Who hired you?” Hunter asked firmly.

“Son, that's confidential information,” the Duros simply replied back. “Now hand her over.”

He was looking at Omega.

“She's with us. She's not going anywhere,” Hunter told him, moving forward into a defensive position.

The bounty hunter also stepped forward, drumming his fingers on his blaster. “That's unfortunate…for you.”

Kimber watched Hunter carefully as he ever so slowly edged his hand just above his own blaster, never taking his eyes off the bounty hunter. The tension in the moment was almost physical; like she could feel it or even taste it. There was no telling how this was going to go, but she was confident in Hunter's abilities. He'd surely take care of this threat without issue. She sidestepped slightly to put herself in front of Omega.

Then everything happened so fast.

Both Hunter and the Duros whipped out their blasters and fired and suddenly, Hunter dropped to the ground, unmoving and with a smoking blaster hole in his chest.

His own shot had diverted and hit the Droid in the leg. The Duros quickly holstered his blaster without a second thought.

Kimber's heart ceased beating. This couldn't be happening. She wasn't seeing this; it wasn't real. Her Sergeant couldn't have been beaten like this. Flashes of a previous nightmare she'd had a long time ago of seeing Hunter shot in front of her and then her recent one of hearing his voice followed by a blaster shot filled her mind.

“Hunter!” she shrieked in terror.

In her anger, she went for her own blaster, but then she heard Omega cry out Hunter's name behind and suddenly, out of her peripherals, she could see the young girl running towards Hunter.

“Omega, no!” she shouted, moving and reaching out to grab her.

There was the sound of another blaster shot and searing pain shot up from just above Kimber's knee through her whole leg, causing her to fall to the ground with an agonized yelp. Omega halted, calling out for Kimber before looking back at the bounty hunter, terrified.

“Sorry, little lady,” he said to her, pointing his blaster at her and firing a stunning blast at the girl just as she drew her bow, making her drop unconscious.

“No…!” Kimber cried through a pained moan. She reached for her blaster, but as she grabbed it, the bounty hunter's Droid swooped in and knocked it from her hand.

The bounty hunter came over and towered over her, his almost glowing red eyes leering down at her menacingly. “I wouldn't do that if I were you, missy. If you know what's best for the kid…and unless you wanna end up like your Clone friend….” He then raised his boot and stepped down right on her leg where she'd been shot, pushing slowly down on her and eliciting a scream from her. Then he finished his threat with, “Then you'll stay down and not cause a scene.”

She clenched her teeth tight and tears spilled out the corners of her eyes as she fought the agony in her leg. Even if she wanted to risk fighting this bounty hunter to protect Omega, she knew there was no way she'd be able to even stand on her leg, let alone walk or fight. He'd wounded her badly and she knew, to her great dismay, that she was down for the count.

She watched in despair as the bounty hunter scooped up Omega’s limp form and slung her over his shoulder, calling for his Droid to follow. They got into the Imperial shuttle and before long, the ship lifted off the ground and took off. A yell of anguish, both from the pain of her wound and the pain of losing both Hunter and Omega, ripped itself from her throat. Her nightmare from the night before returned to her mind. She heard Crosshair’s voice telling her she would be Clone Force 99’s downfall…and for once, her nightmare had come true.

Because of her, everything had gone wrong.

Kimber had failed.

She crawled her way--albeit painfully--over to Hunter, tears falling down her face as she cried his name. He couldn’t be dead…he just couldn’t be. When she reached his unmoving body, she pressed her hand to his neck. To her immense relief, there was still a pulse. Hunter was alive.

Knowing that, she activated her helmet comm and spoke through grunts of pain, “Echo…Tech…Wrecker…help!”

“We hear you, Kimber. Where are you?” she heard Tech respond.

The wound in her leg was throbbing intensely and she moaned again, getting out what words she could, “Marauder…Hunter…and I…been shot. Hurry!”

Then she heard Echo reassure her, a hint of urgency in his voice, “Hold on, Kim. We’re coming!”

Kimber collapsed next to Hunter, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly. “I’m…so sorry, my love,” she whispered, knowing he most likely couldn’t hear her. “I’m so sorry.”

He stirred slightly and she heard a light groan from under his helmet.

“Hunter?” she asked, inching closer to him.

Just then, she heard running footsteps approaching and heard Echo call out for them as he, Tech and Wrecker appeared in front of them. Echo knelt at her side and helped her sit up.

Picking up Omega’s bow that had gotten left behind, Wrecker demanded, “What happened? Where’s Omega?”

“Bounty…hunter,” she answered as she sat up, gritting her teeth from the burning in her leg. “He…shot us…and took her.”

“Hunter has been shot through the chest plate. We have to get him onboard,” Tech informed the others.

As Echo got Kimber to her feet, Wrecker yelled out, “Incoming!” and started firing behind them just as more soldiers came into view. Tech pulled Hunter up and pulled him into the ship while Echo scooped Kimber up into his arms and carried her inside. Once they all were onboard and the door was closed, Tech practically leapt into the pilot’s seat, powered up the ship and they sped away from the planet.

Wrecker removed Hunter’s helmet and his eyes were open. He clutched at his chest where he’d been shot and then inquired, “Where’s Omega?”

“A bounty hunter took her. Kimber told us,” Wrecker informed him.

To everyone’s surprise, Hunter whipped around and asked Kimber angrily, “You let him get away with her? Why didn't you protect her?”

Echo was guiding her down into one of the chairs and she replied in equal anger, “I was shot, too, Hunter! There was nothing I could do.”

Hunter’s eyes flashed wide for a second at hearing and seeing that Kimber had been hurt, but his own frustration at her and what she’d done was more powerful in the moment.

“That isn't very fair, Hunter,” Tech stated over his shoulder at him. “Crosshair was one thing, but I'm certain Kimber had nothing to do with the bounty hunter being there.”

“Though if Crosshair hadn’t shown up and chased us around everywhere, we could’ve been off planet before the bounty hunter even got there,” Hunter said back.

“Hunter, please!” Kimber pleaded.

He spun his chair around with a slight wince of pain and declared, “No! You put all of us in danger and because of you, Omega’s now gone!”

Echo stepped in between and exclaimed, aggravated, “That’s enough! We can discuss everything later, but right now, we need to tend to both your wounds and we need to get out here before the Empire catches up to us.”

Hunter said nothing and simply cast a look of disappointment at Kimber, a look just as sharp as his vibroblade that cut down deep. She didn’t know what hurt more at that moment, her leg or her heart. Her head fell back against the headrest of the chair and she sucked in air through her teeth.

If they managed to evade Crosshair and the Empire, the rest of this flight was not going to be enjoyable at all.

#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch hunter #sergeant hunter #bad batch fanfic #hunter x oc fic #sun and rain fanfic

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wordsinwinters · 2 years

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Then Again, Chapter 28: Secrets of a Teacher’s Pet

Summary: After an intense fight and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else. Masterlist (with AO3 links) Betas: @fanboyswhereare-you @girl-tips-from-satan @lilbeatlebear

Then Again, Chapter 28: Secrets of a Teacher's Pet

(Word count: 4,134) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, High school lunches are abominable, and should be illegal. I swear, what passes for pizza, macaroni, and even grilled cheese might as well be scraps of cardboard stuffed with some sticky yellow substance of unknown origins, as opposed to anything healthy or vaguely edible. The vegetables available aren’t much better: they give off the look and odor of something that’s been canned for a few hundred years before being briefly stuck in a microwave and dropped into a metal pan. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration. They’re just super bland and tasteless. But don’t get me started on the very real danger of the milk that’s required with cost-reduced or free meals. After getting one that’s curdled like cottage cheese or a slimy, soupy sort of solid, you learn not to trust them. A lot of kids take them because they have to and immediately dump them into a garbage can on the way to their table. The bagged apple slices aren’t too terrible though, given that the flavor hasn’t been boiled or steamed out of them and there’s no reason to doubt what they’re made of. Luckily for me, Peter’s gifted stash of snacks in my locker from yesterday held over to today and I’ve been eating enough during breaks that I’m only hungry enough for the apples, able to avoid all the other barely tolerable options for once. I’m as grateful for that fact as I was happily surprised to find he managed to remember and pick out my favorites. (Michelle probably helped him.)

Walking to the cafeteria ten minutes late is an uncharacteristically peaceful experience. The usual, deafening current of hundreds of teenagers rushing to their next class has been replaced by a trickling stream of occasional wanderers strolling along with hall passes lightly held in hand. It’s a calming change of pace. Still, as I draw closer to the cafeteria, the sounds of classes beginning behind closed doors grow softer, slowly overlapped by the swelling chaos of first lunch. It’s funny how approaching this part of the school during lunch feels like walking into a roaring tsunami of cacophony, but once you’re inside it talking with your friends, the enormity of it muffles into a tame tide, as if an invisible barrier has stitched itself together around the table. (At least if you’ve had enough sleep, that is. After another long night of texting with Peter, I’m not sure I’ll be able to block out much of anything.) By the time I turn the corner of the last hallway and head to the lunch line, most people already have their food and are sitting at their normal tables — my friends included — so it takes no time at all to maneuver through the pizza side. I grab a bag of apple slices from the tin pan beside the soft pretzel warmer and quickly get to the register. The lunch lady punches in the code for the apples as I swipe my ID card and type in my passcode, four little beeps quietly popping up through the bursting bubble of cafeteria noise. Like every day, I thank her and she offers me a tired nod in response. Then I make my typical path toward my friends sitting in the middle-ish back area. A few tables away from Michelle, Peter, and Ned, more toward the front, Abe and Sally are sitting with their other friends, including Flash. That must mean Monday was an anomaly like I suspected— just a chance to collect the last morsels of gossip about the trip before everyone slid back into our normal school routines. (Surprisingly, neither of them asked about or alluded to the pool incident, thank god, though Flash must’ve told Abe about the accidental blackmail thing because Abe whisper-asked me about it once no one was paying attention. As soon as I said it wasn’t a big deal and I’d rather Mr. Harrington never hear a word about any of it, he nodded and let it go with a subtle “OK” hand motion.) Suddenly, Peter whips his head around and catches my eye. He jumps out of his seat and rushes to meet me halfway. “Hey!” he says, smiling and slightly breathless a moment later, hair lightly ruffled from the mini-jog. “How come you’re late? Ned said you stayed after class, but he didn’t know why.” Then, looking at the lone bag of apple wedges in my hand, “And where’s the rest of your food?” As we make eye contact again, I try to ignore the swooping sensation in my stomach: I have been trying, really trying, to get used to his energy the last few days — to his wider smiles and the abrupt return of his sincerity — but his spontaneous excitement in moments like this still causes butterflies, as much as I resent the fact. Even so, his energy is infectious and, undeniably, pleasant. I find my lips itching to mirror his bare smile, and do my best to hold it back. “I stayed back to talk to Profé,” I explain as we walk together, “about the skit that’s due on Friday. I wanted to see if my group could just perform it for her tomorrow while everyone’s out recording theirs.” I glance at him and the crinkle around his eyes makes it clear he knows me too well. “You mean get out of having to watch your own video on Friday.” “Maybe.” I keep my gaze on our table as we approach it, shrugging and hoping my guilty-as-charged grin isn’t too obvious. The deal I made with Profé is normal for the two of us. It’s usually the group members who make it more of a struggle, refusing to cooperate because they’d rather procrastinate than memorize their lines a day early. (If they’re even willing to memorize their lines. 75% of the class just reads from a paper someone else has to hold up behind whatever phone or iPad they use to record it— even though Profé

takes off 5% of their total project grade if she catches it. And she always does.) Luckily, my group for this one was just as happy as me to get out of the awkward recording process and the even more agonizing experience of watching it on the whiteboard the following day, forced to sit still and confront our stale acting and terrible, underdeveloped accents. “What’d she say?” “She said it’s fine,” I say, climbing into my seat across from Ned and Michelle as Peter sits beside me. “As long as I help her grade the quizzes from her first year class once we finish.” Ned and Michelle let their conversation about Chemistry fizzle out to join ours. “Such a teacher’s pet,” Ned says with a wave of his hand. “Always manipulating the system for your own gain.” I give him a sarcastically sour look. “If you made fewer jokes like that, I could still be grading ours.” Last month, Ned just had to make a comment about me changing his test answers. As much as Profé likes me and would be happy to hire me as a personal assistant, she couldn’t keep handing me my friends’ and classmates’ assignments after he said that in front of everyone, which is fair. Plus, even though I enjoy helping her, it’s nice to have more time to socialize, especially since Ned, Betty, and I sit next to each other. It also helped me feel less guilty, seeing as I had actually done it. “But it wasn’t a joke, right?” Michelle clarifies, reading my mind. “You did change Ned’s answers for him.” Ned sighs, glancing down at his plate to spear a broccoli floret with his fork. “And I should’ve been more grateful, I know.” He looks back up, clearly amused. “But it’s just so funny to freak you out.” “Funny to you, maybe.” Objectively, it was pretty funny. I was walking up to Profé’s desk to hand in the stack of freshly graded tests when he very loudly asked me to change his answers on the next quiz too — which a few people laughed at, assuming it couldn’t be true if he had blurted it out — and it took me so off-guard that I turned and smacked right into someone else’s desk, hard enough it felt like I cracked my hip bone on it, triggering an ill-timed “Jesus!” Immediately, someone called out, “It’s pronounced Hay-soos in this class!” Even I could recognize the humor in it, once the pain had passed a minute later. Profé was still shaking her head in pity as I hobbled over and handed her the papers. Her tone of voice conveyed a sort of disappointment and inconvenience when she said that, well, maybe it’d be better if I didn’t grade this class’s work anymore. “Wait, for real?” Peter asks, brow twisted into a quizzical disbelief. “You’ve never done that for me.” Michelle’s mouth quirks into a (prideful?) smirk. “She’s done it for me.” He looks between the two of us, surprised. “You’re not in my Spanish class, though,” I tell Peter as I open my bag of apples, hoping the meager defense will assuage him. “Neither is Michelle!” “That was for our World History class.” “And AP Psych that one time,” I admit reflexively, remembering. I reach over to her plate and swap a few fries for a slice of apple. “Wow, okay then. I see how it is.” Peter leans back as if against an imaginary wall, squinting at me, eyes glinting with teasing sarcasm. Like I said before, as much as I’m trying to get used to our new dynamics, it’s hard to pretend this playful attitude isn’t incredibly attractive; we’ve always teased each other, but something about the nature of it has shifted. It’s more fun than before. I lick my lips to get rid of the salt from the fries and ignore him. Meanwhile, Michelle takes the apple piece I gave her and holds it like a cigarette. “Not to defend the cheating, lying, and overall academic fraud she’s committed,” she says, “but she was responsible for messing up my World History test right before we took it.” She bites the apple and chews for a moment. “We were quizzing each other on our way in and she said Genghis Khan went— what was it? As far west in Europe as Germany and as far east as Lebanon in the Middle East.” “Instead of Poland and the Levant,” I

repeat, the words having haunted me for weeks afterward, the answer seared into my memory since. “But Poland has been taken over by Germany at different points and it was fragmented when he got there. Plus, Lebanon is in the Levant, so I wasn’t totally wrong.” Michelle makes an “Exactly” gesture with her left hand. “And that’s why she corrected her mistake on my paper.” She notices me about to sneak more fries off her plate and swats my hand away. “And since I didn’t change my own answer,” I say, returning to my own food, “it wasn’t really cheating.” “Ha.” Her laugh is flat, but bright. “Only because you used a pen to take the test and were too scared he’d notice a scratched out answer that wasn’t there before.” Before I can (in bad faith) refute that, Peter interrupts. “Wait, what about the Psych one?” I pause and smile, remembering one of the reasons I love our Psychology teacher. “It was just an extra credit question: ‘Who is my celebrity crush?’ Michelle wrote Antonio Banderas instead of Dwayne Johnson. It was only half a point. Antonio Banderas is her mom’s crush, which she talked about in class a bunch of times, not hers. Easy to mix up.” “And Ned’s Spanish quiz?” Ned coughs on a bite of spaghetti he just took, quickly taking a drink of water to recover. If he’s nervous about me explaining that one, I’m surprised. He and Peter usually tell each other everything, and the truth isn’t really embarrassing anyway. “You wanna cover that one?” I ask him, just in case. “Nah. Go ahead,” he shrugs, unbothered. That’s more normal. A noodle must’ve just gone down the wrong way. “It was a few weeks ago,” I explain, “when we first started making our plans to study for the decathlon, I think? Ned was super stressed with it all and had a bad case of test anxiety. He told me he knew the right answers, he just freaked out in the moment.” Peter’s eyebrows raise and he looks pointedly at Ned, whose lips are twitching. “Ned doesn’t get test anxiety,” he says, staring at him. “I think I remember that, actually. He just didn’t study. He stayed up all night and then freaked out in the morning saying he was gonna fail.” Before I can react, Ned erupts into the same giggles I heard from across the classroom when I smacked into that desk. Michelle’s eyebrows lift, though she seems unsurprised; if anything, her expression is practically a mental handshake of congratulations to Ned for successfully cheating the system. (The system being me.) “Okay, okay!” He puts his hands up to defend himself. “I lied, I know, and that’s bad, it’s a bad thing to do. But my GPA, my chances for college admissions, shouldn’t suffer because I’m bad at conjugating verbs in a third language.” He turns his head toward Peter. “And I did want to study more, but someone convinced me to play video games that night instead.” The attention of the debate swiftly turns away from the ethics of test answer “editing” to which of them is more likely to put video games above school work. As the boys argue, Michelle and I continue eating in relaxed silence. Even though the two of us have been texting and talking less the last couple days now that my conversations with Peter have become more time-consuming, we’ve settled back into our usual, stable friendship without any lingering oddness from the weekend. Thank goodness. My eyes flit to her at the thought, then quickly back to the boys. As they do, a gentle wave of comfort and humming warmth envelopes me. It’s a new sensation, one that’s easy to sink into and strange to explain. (And randomly recurring since Sunday morning.) Although it’s similar to the solace I feel when I appreciate that Michelle (and Ned) won’t be abandoning me anytime soon, like I briefly assumed over the weekend, I’d be lying if I didn’t own up to the fact it’s undeniably reserved for Peter. It’s been happening here and there during the most unexpected moments ever since we apologized to each other that morning. (This back-and-forth debate between him and Ned, which now involves them citing specific dates and exact hours of video game

playing, for example, isn’t exactly heart-warming or intriguing enough that it should warrant this feeling, yet here I am.) At first, I thought the sensation was just the sheer relief of reconciliation after a shitty, hellish night. But now I’m not so sure. It’s complicated, of course, to say the least. After spending so long desperately trying and failing to shove down this crush, my anxiety surrounding Peter and how this all might end, it doesn’t make sense to feel so… normal. The months I spent begging my own brain to avoid thinking about him, only to fail miserably and obsess over how, inevitably, the best outcome could only be private pain while the best bad option, if I was found out, would be a simple unraveling of fragile humiliation that Peter would clumsily (and apologetically) inflict— those months were like being a small pet in a washing machine: drowning, jerked around, disoriented, and in general torment. This crush has been one colossal Sisyphean self-inflicted torture session after the next. And yet, somehow, I’m suddenly alright. The danger has passed and I’m breathing just fine. Sure, I’m still nervous around him more often than not, and flustered, cautious, and even anxious at times, but it’s not nearly as overwhelming as before. It’s like most of the frightened, flighty energy this crush has plagued me with since the beginning has transformed into something less excruciating. Something that might border on exciting if I let it. It’s safe, above all else. Infinitely closer to safety than anything I’ve felt before, and certainly a thousand times more stable than that frozen, starless abyss I felt like I was staring into this weekend. To put it simply: my nerves have floated down to a reasonable level. Even if I still feel like I’m walking a tightrope some of the time, the rope is only a foot above soft-grassed ground rather than tied between skyscrapers. And since I’m less busy being worried, I evidently have more time to, as May would say, stay grounded and enjoy the moment. It feels like warm sunshine. That’s it. Safety and warmth. Anyway, suffice it to say that things are good between us. So much so that we’ve barely had a break in conversation since our fight. Between passing notes in the classes we have together, talking during lunch, and the obscene amount of texting we’ve done the last few days, it really does feel like being in a “friendship bootcamp,” like Ned and Michelle keep calling it. Especially because a big portion of our conversations has been Peter asking bizarre, random questions, like my opinion on Harry Houdini or if I know anyone who could get us fake IDs. (Each day I try to answer them as fully as possible with zero context. I gave up asking “Why?” and “What for?” early on; he would just text back things like, “wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” or “you’ll find out later” or “I’m writing a memoir about you, duh.”) If it were anyone else, the sheer frequency of such vague texts might’ve aggravated me; instead, I found myself stifling laughter in bed until three in the morning Monday night, then 1 a.m. last ni— this morning. Peter and I have always enjoyed antagonizing Ned and Michelle on our own, so much so that, comparatively, we’ve always tended to be more civil (if not distant) to each other than either of them. Without the filter of them between us, our texting quickly became a tug-of-war of jokes, insults, and other teasing. In fact— “Hello? You there?” Peter’s waving his hand in front of my face. “You didn’t answer my other question.” I shake myself out of the mental hole I’ve been falling through the last few minutes and apologize for zoning out, only now realizing that Michelle and Ned have moved on to a discussion on the Spanish colonization of the Philippines and consequent linguistic history between Tagalog, Filipino, and Spanish. “Peter,” I say after a short yawn. “I think you’ve set a record for how many questions a person can ask in a day. Which one are you referring to?” I start to pull my phone out of my pocket to check my texts from him,

wondering what might’ve gotten lost in the waterfall of messages we’ve sent to each other lately. But he puts his index finger on the table, or rather, on the empty plastic bag that used to contain the apple Michelle and I finished a minute ago. “Where’s the rest of your food?” he specifies. “You and Michelle aren’t on any hunger strikes I don’t know about, right?” I roll my eyes. “I’ve been eating all morning, actually,” I say, returning his sarcasm. “A bunch of my favorite snacks somehow showed up in my locker. Weird, right?” “Super weird,” he says, nodding. “How’d someone get into your locker?” I pause. “That’s a good question. How did you get into it?” He grins. “Same way you got into mine on Friday.” He tips his head towards Michelle. “One of our friends pays way more attention to detail than anyone on the planet, and knows all of our codes.” Without breaking her eye contact with Ned, Michelle sticks her hand directly in front of Peter’s face. “Don’t bring me into whatever you guys are doing.” After a flash of middle finger, she puts her hand back down on the table and goes back to telling Ned off. “Really though,” I say, meeting his eyes again. “Thank you for all of it. It was nice to have a break from school food. Even if the sugar is going to make me crash sooner or later.” Preferably in sixth hour. It’s easy to get away with taking a nap in film class, as long as you can keep your head propped up on your hand. His ears twitch as he smiles. “I told you, I really want to make up for… well, everything.” “And I told you—” “That I don’t need to give you presents for that to happen.” “Exactly.” “So, you didn’t like the pens today?” Pens? “What are you talking about?” “I put some new pens in your backpack. You know, since you used up a bunch of yours taking notes during our decathlon study sessions.” That's true. In retrospect, I was more upset about them running out of ink than I ended up being about missing the actual competition. “Oh, I never saw them. I haven’t looked in my bag since first hour.” I wonder if…. “But, to be honest, I’m kind of particular about my writing instruments, so—” “They better be the Pilot G2 multi-color pack?” Wow. That is surprising. It must show on my face. His smile widens and he pulls his shoulders back. “Yes, actually.” I sit up a bit straighter. “You get that from Michelle too?” “Nope.” He shakes his head. “You left one at my apartment. Dark green. It’s also in your bag.” My heart rate jumps and I hate the fact that it’s over nice pens. Or maybe it’s the thought he put into it. It’s a perfect gift. Useful and, in a way, personal. The only other person who would think of it would be Michelle. She’s the only one who pays that much attention to me. “Alright then.” I try to keep my voice level, to not give away what I’m thinking or how happy I am that I can go back to color-coding my notes like usual. “That’s impressive, I’ll admit.” My chest aches, and I’m not totally sure why. “But,” I say carefully, “as much as I do appreciate it, there’s really no need for anything else.” “Oh really?” He leans forward, putting an elbow to the table, head resting against his hand. “Because I feel like you wouldn’t say that if you knew what I had planned for Friday.” I know it’s bait, that it’s meant to distract me from refusing his future gifts. But I can’t help it. “Tell me,” I demand. He pulls backward and, grinning, shakes his head so rapidly it messes up his hair. “It’s a surprise. I can’t.” It only takes me mentioning that, given how many wild questions he’s sent my way the last few days, I deserve one hint, minimum, for Ned and Michelle to notice and jump into our conversation. Ned offers to tell me about the Friday “event”— the one-word little slip up alone offending Peter more than the whole video game argument. “No, no, no, no!” Peter practically shouts. “Guys, I will kill you! Ned, I’ll tell Jason about how you’re planning to fight him, and MJ— I’ll, I swear, if you say anything, I-I’ll, I will—” “Yeah, you’ve got nothing on me, dude.” she says,

unimpressed, looking him up and down. “But, I’ll play nice this one time.” She looks at me, left eyebrow slightly raised with a clear message: There’s reason for concern. You’ll want to get it out of him as soon as possible. “So, Ned, when’s this fight happening?” We all turn to look at him, Michelle and I particularly curious about that piece of information. “Obviously it’s not,” he says, exasperated. “I’m just trying to figure out how to help a friend he’s been messing with.” “A miss Betty Brant, right?” As Michelle starts a rapid-fire interrogation into Ned and Betty’s beef with Jason, I turn my body and attention towards Peter once more. “You have to give me hints,” I say. “I’d like three, along with unlimited guesses.” He takes a deep breath, eyes searching mine carefully. “Alright, I’ll give hints,” he concedes. “But only two.” That’s better than I expected. “Two,” I agree. “But then you have to tell me tomorrow morning no matter what.” He extends a hand to shake, a smile perking back up. “That seems fair, since you’ll never guess.” I’m more than familiar with uncertainty when it comes to you, I think as that safe, sunny feeling settles over me again. I’ll manage just fine.

Next chapter

Author's note: Apologies for the very long filler chapter. Honestly, this is one of my least favorite chapters I've written and I'd hoped to fix it up a lot more before posting (I was planning a total rewrite tbh), but I figured it'd be better to stay on track with the weekly updating than push it back. Thanks for sticking with it!

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

A World of Our Own Pt.07

Decrepit Old Grump

9/29/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 5,510

Warnings: language, smut, fluff, angst

A/N: Y’all, I have not edited this chapter much at all. I edited the first part and that’s about it. I’m too tired to edit and I may come back and edit later but I didn’t want to make y’all wait anymore as I already made y’all wait a long time before I came back to it. I’m sorry if it stinks. <3 If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Bucky is gutted.

He can feel the weight of his guilt growing as you sit there on the beach staring out at the crashing waves, sky turning an inky purple where it kisses the sea as the sun sets.

Your skin is enveloped by ocean wind, briny and thick it coats you with sea salt making you sticky with its humidity.

In this light, you’re glowing. A beauty. With tears slowly rolling across one cheek then the other as your sorrow wounds you repeatedly. Over and over you play it all in your head. Remembering the sounds of the chopper, the violent swish of tall grass and palms, gunpowder saturating the air as he lays on the ground and you panic over him pressing your hands against his wound.

Reaching up, he feels the spot, pressing his palm flat against the spot now healed and only a little sore.

The slump of your shoulders, the dead weight of your hands as they rest at your sides on the sand without moving, Bucky can see it all from where he stands by the hut.

You’ve given up. All hope gone. Not only are you stuck here on this island forever, but you were betrayed by Ryan.

Someone that Bucky suddenly wonders might have meant more to you than he realized. A real spark.

Of course, Bucky knows that you love him. It’s in your eyes, or it was before you were both permanently marooned here because of him—this is all his fault after all.

Still, maybe you cared more for Ryan than you were willing to admit? Could you have loved him too?

The two of you had been close. Despite your suspicions, your gentle guarding against him, could your spark have turned into real feelings?

Bucky hates this thing, this oozing pit of green sludge he knows is jealousy.

He knows he shouldn’t feel it. This is bigger than who anyone might be attached to emotionally or attracted to physically. This is life and death.

With being left here, all hopes of a real future are gone.

No jobs. No family. No friends. No children…Why had he gone and told you he wanted to have them with you?

How much must that be hurting you now?

Idiot.

Of course, with you hating him now, maybe the very thought of having kids with him is repulsive? He’d never been able to see himself as a father before you. Maybe this is all for the best? No matter how much it hurts to think.

He hesitates, waiting to see if you’ll turn or rise. You haven’t eaten all day and he knows its depression keeping you anchored here to this beach. A final depression. Dark and consuming.

However, he also knows that despite your giving up, even now your eyes scan the horizon for possible ships. Not in hope, merely habit.

When you continue not to move, he breathes in deep to gather his courage and moves towards you slowly.

You don’t even twitch at the sound of his approach.

You don’t even care that he’s there. Do you?

You’ve been so distant since Ryan left, sleeping in his now empty room on the floor. Bucky was willing to give you space at first.

How you must not be able to look at him…

The pit in his stomach widens, bringing with it painful aches of missing you pressed into his side. He misses the smell of your skin and the touch of your lips against his throat when you’d wake up in the middle of the night, searching for comfort.

He's lost you and he has only himself to blame.

However, whether you hate him or not, he can’t let you keep neglecting yourself the way you have. He can’t keep his distance anymore. Not completely.

He’s still responsible for keeping you alive, even more so with Ryan’s deception.

He'll force you if he has to. He needs you. Even if you can never love him again, he needs to see, hear, and know that you’re well.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hiss of the sand as he walks to you is soft with deliberate steps taken towards you then he stops.

Beside you, Bucky crouches and he penetrates your peripherals, filing you with wretched agony at the scowl in place on his beautiful face.

That face had smiled at you once. Kissed you. Assured you of safety. Loved you.

Now…how can he not despise you after your misguided trust?

How can he not hate you for your reckless friendship with that stupid man. You’re so angry at him you can’t even think his name.

You don’t want to remember him, but your heart will not let you forget.

You’d thought it so many times. So often. He’s a good man. A good father. He’s my friend and he’d never do anything to hurt us.

How very wrong you’d been. How foolish and trusting and generally stupid.

“Get up.” Bucky orders, his voice hard like it had once been so long ago when he’d dragged you up from the beach and through the trees where he’d put the fuselage.

You thought you’d heard the last of that voice. If he hates you, you suppose it makes sense that he’d adopt it once again. Why would he speak with love to you when he clearly can’t trust you or your judgement?

It hurts to hear his dislike of you, you can’t bear to see it to. So, you keep your eyes trained on the horizon, looking at nothing.

You don’t answer him either. This upsets him.

“You can’t keep ignoring me. And you can’t keep sitting here, crying your eyes out, not eating.” He huffs, gets to his feet and towers over you, legs spread slightly as he waits for you to look at him maybe, hands flexing in and out of fists.

What does he want from you? How can he expect you to respond to him when he’s like this after months of feeling his love?

He hadn’t even stopped you when you came back to the hut and told him you were going to sleep in the other room.

“Whatever you want.” He’d said in monotone, sitting stiff by the fire after you’d just cleaned, stitched, and dressed his wound.

He let you go; let you sleep away from him. You’d almost hoped he’d ask you back into your room, but he didn’t, and you weren’t bold enough to ask to come back when he so clearly didn’t want you.

“This isn’t helping anyone, Y/N. Get up.” Bucky chastises, driving a nail through your heart with every stern word. “Are you seriously just going to sit there?”

Your lips twitch tempted to shout at him to leave you alone. Very nearly you look up at him and yell at him to let you starve and die because that would leave him unburdened and free of you. But you picture it, his face, all scowly and angry. A hate in those steel ice eyes that had once overflowed with adoration and love.

No, you can’t look at him. It’ll break your heart more than it already does to wake up in the mornings without him at your side.

You mash your lips together, refusing to answer him and tilt your chin up in defiance.

It happens so quickly and you’re all of a sudden upside down, or…close to it.

Bucky swoops down and grabs you, tossing you over his shoulder and you’re not sure how he does it but he won’t let go and he doesn’t seem to have trouble lifting you—he pulled a literal piece of a plane inland so why would he?—as he turns and marches towards the tree line.

“Bucky! Let me go!” You scream, startled as you bounce against his back.

Trying desperately to find a hold on something, you push yourself against his waist but your hands keep slipping over his hips where you finally take hold of the loops of his jeans and use them to anchor yourself so that you’re not bobbing up and down as much.

“Bucky please-” You begin, an attempt to plead with him because this is the closest you’ve been to him in a month and you can smell him. The heat he radiates, just a bit hotter than normal, penetrates every fiber of clothing you’re wearing.

“I don’t know where the hell you got the idea that this behavior is alright. You want to starve yourself? You do it once I’m dead. Do you have any idea what you look like? What you smell like?” Bucky argues, strutting faster as he swerves between the trees.

The embarrassment you feel overwhelms you into silence because you don’t know what you look like or what you smell like. It must not be good if it’s made Bucky this angry. You feel shame suddenly that the man you love is seeing you like this.

For it to get so bad that he breaks whatever distance he’d wanted to keep between the two of you, it must be disgusting.

Your heart is suddenly thrumming for a whole new reason, and you’re very aware of how close to your butt Bucky’s face must be and with his enhanced senses, just how well he must be able to smell.

“Bucky put me down.” You squirm, pushing against him and pulling yourself up enough to grip his shoulders and hold yourself up a little straighter as the fear in you builds.

His arms only tighten around your legs and waist, refusing to loosen his grip as he continues to march forward.

“Bucky…” You push against him harder, a frenzy taking you over as you kick and squirm, hoping to maybe knock him off balance but instead he stops and suddenly, you’re weightless.

You fall for what feels like forever as your face is overtaken with shock. You see his frown as you fall, his eyes boring into yours until you hit water and sink down into cool green waters.

You gasp, swallowing water but quickly find your footing and push yourself up from the floor of what you realize is the bathing pool that Bucky had rebuilt closer to the hut.

You gasp and choke as you surface, eyes wide with panic as you push the water out of your face and try to catch your breath.

“You wanna let yourself fall apart, you do it on the other side of the island where I can’t watch you do it, because I won’t sit here and put up with it, Y/N. I can’t.” Bucky points at you, his finger firm.

“What the fuck, Bucky?!” You gasp, still wheezing from swallowing water.

“I get that this isn’t exactly an ideal situation.” He starts, pacing a step away from you before coming right back up to the lip of that pool and presses his hand to his chest. “I’m not innocent. I’ve been paying for the crimes I’ve committed ever since Steve pulled me back from the brink and I know that I’ve done a lot of wrong since. Getting you stranded here on this island…if I could take it back, I would. If I could fix it so that you weren’t on that plane when they blew it up, I would do it in a heartbeat.

“I get that this is my fault. I understand that them wanting me dead has put you in this fucked up situation, stuck here with no possible escape, and hate me if you want to. That’s fine, I’m used to it. I get it if you never want to speak to me again, but please stop neglecting yourself. If you want to punish me, I’ll think of some other way for you to do it, but please…please don’t make me the reason you die here because I couldn’t stand it, Y/N. I’ll find you a way off of this place.

“I’ll build a raft or a bigger fire or…I’ll think of something, just…I need you to eat something. I need you to take care of yourself. I need you to care. Don’t let what I did hurt you more than I already have.

“I’ll fix this. I promise. Alright?” He’s still fierce in his words, but slowly his anger has receded into begging.

Before you stands a desperate man, asking you to keep living and all you can think about is one thing.

“I…” You swallow hard, fighting the knots in your stomach and the aching squeeze of your heart as a fleeting hope takes shine within it. “I don’t hate you, Bucky.”

The words are mostly air, still too stunned by his speech and certain parts of it in particular to catch your breath fully from the sudden dunk into very cool water.

He takes a breath, staring at you as you look at his feet, shaking your head before finally meeting his eyes.

You blink against the water still dripping down from your hair into them and wipe at the drops that get trapped in your lashes.

“What?” He asks, his own voice rising in pitch in confusion.

“I don’t hate you.” You repeat, this time strongly with a voice so clear that the birds making nest for the night go quiet. “I could never hate you. How could you even think that?”

You lick your lips, wiping more water away from you face while Bucky stares at you, blinking as he processes the words you’ve spoken. It’s clear in his expression the flurry of thoughts that must be speeding through his mind.

“But you moved out of ro-” He begins, but you don’t let him finish, wrapping your arms around yourself to battle the chill that’s begun to set in.

“Because I thought that you were angry with me…because I trusted him. I kept insisting that he was our friend and I was so…so stupid for believing him.” Your voice breaks, pent up sorrow breaking through as you look away from him because you can’t bear to see the look of disappointment on his face when you admit your crimes.

He says nothing.

“If I’d been more careful maybe we might have noticed something sooner? If I hadn’t been so won over by the story of his kid or the way that he pretended to be nice, I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m sorry that I didn’t-”

There’s a splash and you blink against the rush of water. You have no time to search for the source because he’s there, in front of you, his hands wiping away the water from your cheeks.

He presses himself so close that there isn’t a part of you that isn’t touching him. You tilt your head to look at him, meet his eye and see a desperation in his own as his lips curl into a small sad smile. His eyes are soft, his brow is raised at the center as he drinks in your own expression of surprise.

“You really don’t hate me?” He wonders, voice soft and sweet and full of fading anguish.

“No.” You nearly sob, shaking your head as much as you can in his vice-like hold. “I could never hate you, Bucky. I’ve told you before. You’re my hero. My savior in more ways than one stupid. I love you.”

He closes the distance between you, fierce hungry lips painfully pressed to yours until he gets his fill then pulls back to sweep more water away from your cheeks.

“I’m not angry.” He whispers, reaching down to wrap his right arm around you. “I could never be angry with you for seeing the good in people. How can I when that’s what made you dumb enough to love me?”

You laugh, ecstatic and slightly insulted. “Did you just call me dumb?”

“Fuck yeah, I did.” Bucky shakes his head. “Stupid, lovable, dummy. You’re a hothead too. I hate that in a woman.”

His teasing fills your belly with butterflies and sweet warm tumbles.

You laugh again, then reach behind his neck to pull him down for another kiss, this time holding it for longer as you let your lips meld with his. Soft and fluid as a month’s worth of insecurity washes away in the water of the pool.

He sighs, angling your head with his metal hand as he parts his own lips and the heat of his breath parts your own. He deepens the kiss and you welcome him, a small whimper breaking the silence as you melt against his chest.

He pulls back to tilt his head the other way, “Will you come sleep in our bed now?” He asks, before meeting your lips again.

You nod.

“Mmmph.” He moans, pushing you back until you hit the pool’s wall.

He nudges your legs open and you lift yourself easily in the water and wrap them around his waist as he presses in against you, flesh hand sliding down to your bottom to grab a firm hold.

You break the kiss, gasping as his lips drift to your neck until a sudden flash draws your eyes upwards followed by a sudden boom.

Bucky pulls back, staring up at the sky with you.

“This’ll hit in half an hour.” Bucky guesses, and you know it might hit sooner.

“Bad?” You wonder, dropping back down to your feet as you continue to stare at the canopy as it begins to sway more strongly as the wind picks up.

“Bad enough.” Bucky frowns. “I need to go get the tools secured in the hut and check the nets.”

“I’ll help.” You offer and begin to move around him, but he turns back to you, planting you firmly against the wall.

“No. I wasn’t lying when I said you need a bath. You don’t stink as bad as I made it seem, but you haven’t been taking care of yourself, kitten. I’m not okay with what.” He’s stern again but this time, you can’t blame him.

“I’m sorry.” You allow, feeling shame once again for your inability to be strong through this.

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head. “This isn’t your fault. Or mine. We’re just here and we lost our way for a bit. I should have spoken up sooner. We’ll do better, right?”

You nod, eager to move on from this hiccup. “I’ll do better.”

“We’ll do better, Y/N.” He corrects, reaching up to caress your head. “There should still be some soap in the basket. I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

He pulls himself out of the pool, untying the basket where you keep the soap you’d made up in the branches of a tree away from where animals might find them. He places it beside the edge and as another flash fills the sky, he hurries back towards the beach to prepare for the coming storm.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hut shakes, a charge fills the air, and you sit up gasping. Clutching the thing almost worn blanket close, you turn your head this way and that, searching for the chopper.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Warm arms wrap around your shoulders, pull you closer as the thunder rumbles into nothing.

The rain is still pelting the outside of the hut, a constant stream of white noise as rain and wind thrash the beach and your island home.

The storm has gotten worse over the past few hours, the waves are loud and chaotic, rising higher than they’ve risen since you’ve been here. The beach and campfire where you usually sit and cook are under water.

Bucky building the hut on stilts has paid off and you curl into him as he drags you back down to lay in the plane cushion bed.

“It’s alright, it’s just the storm.” He promises, still half asleep.

You turn towards him, wrapping your arms around him, placing your palm flat against his chest.

“The storm.” You repeat, still mostly asleep yourself.

As your heart begins to slow, you reach up to trace the shape of his ear, slipping your hands up into his hair you pull him down for a kiss.

He gives it to you, his lips gentle and coaxing as he responds eagerly to the attention.

“Bucky…” You fret, thunder overhead shaking the hut once more as lightning flashes and illuminates the inside of the room.

The sky is a black void of weather, scary and unyielding as mother nature asserts her dominance over both your lives.

“It’s okay…” He promises, traces the curve of your body from hip to shoulder, then back down to your hip.

You snuggle closer, pulling him down for another kiss and this one he holds, his tongue slipping past your lips.

Toes curling, you sigh, pushing yourself up over him for only a second before he rolls you onto your back.

Already mostly naked, Bucky pushes his briefs down then pulls your panties aside and without hesitation pushes into you, stretching your heated cunt with his thick throbbing cock.

Both of you freeze, feeling each other for the first time as the sky flashes and thunders.

His mouth finds yours swallowing your moan as you both give in consequences be damned because you’re both here. You’re stuck, deserted, with no hope of rescue and you love him so much.

He thrusts into you, burying himself deep.

It’s a hazy dream, the pleasure his body pulls from you, until he’s pushing your legs open wide and you obey because you want him closer, deeper.

Suddenly the world is crystal clear. Sharp and detailed and you can feel the tip of his cock sliding against the walls of your cunt, prodding and sliding making your legs quiver and flex.

“More…” You beg, hands raking against taut shoulders, tracing cool metal. “…Bucky…”

He pushes himself onto his knees, angling himself up further until he’s mounted you and you’re trapped in the cage of his arms.

He grunts, driving you mad with the sounds he’s making because they’re better than anything you could have dreamt up.

You pull him down until he’s got his full weight on you, crushing you down as his hips continue to thrust.

The wind grows more violent, the rain falls harder. The lightning feels endless and the thunder never stops but you hear none of it as Bucky’s lips kiss your neck, his tongue tracing circles before his teeth bite into your throat.

The heat in your belly swells over, down into your hips and pelvis and your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Toes curled, arms locked around Bucky’s shoulders, you stop breathing.

Bucky keeps pumping, drilling into you faster as he chases his own release then he stutters, hips clapping against your thighs as he spills into you, grunting with every thrust.

He doesn’t stop. He won’t stop. Even when he’s finished, his lips trail across your skin, searching for more.

He reaches down and pushes the bottom of your shirt all the way up, exposing one breast which he takes into his mouth, nibbling gently.

“More?” He checks, moving to the other, never once pulling away.

“Never stop.” You hope, pushing him until he’s on his back.

As you settle over him, hands pressed against his chest, he licks his lips and traces your sides. Stopping at your hips, he licks his lips in anticipation.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Bucky!” You call, searching the beach in the distance, too tired to walk all the way out to the nets.

“Yeah?” He calls back, his shout distant enough that you know he’s in the water just beyond the rocks.

“Lunch is ready. Come eat before it gets cold.”

“Let me just finish with this trap.”

“Okay but hurry up.” You relent, knowing that he won’t come until he’s satisfied.

You move the fish away from the flame, careful and quick as they’re hot. Placing the extras on one of the trays you’d salvaged way back when from the plane, you move to take your usual seat beside the fire.

Ten months.

It’s been ten months of being stranded on the island. The two made bearable by the fact that Ryan’s betrayal had helped you and Bucky push into a new stage of intimacy.

You have sex often. Maybe not everyday as sometimes you’re both too exhausted to do more than sleep, but often enough that you’ve begun to wonder if you’ve made the right choice to give in.

There is no doubt in your mind that should a baby come, you and the child would be safe and well kept with Bucky at your side. Although the fear still lingers that something could go wrong, with either you or the baby, you’re sure that if you weren’t around to care for it, Bucky would do an amazing job as protector and keeper.

He doesn’t talk about it, but you know he, like you, wonders.

You’d stopped having regular periods well before you and Bucky began to have sex, so there would be no real way for you to know until you got big enough to show.

With a sigh, you push these thoughts away. This worry is only one of many and there are others much more important than a possible child.

With the storms getting worse, and hurricane season almost over, Bucky is sure that the island will see one more storm before it’s really over.

The idea of being caught in more scary weather fills your tummy with big bats and you want to forget the worry almost as soon as you remember it.

You unwrap your fish and pull it apart, careful to avoid the bones as you pick it to pieces and begin to eat.

You’re almost halfway through when Bucky finally settles in across from you, sighing with relief as he smiles and reaches for his plate.

“Everything good with the nets?” You check, mouth full of fish.

“Yeah, they’re fine. Just had to cast it out a little farther. Season’s changing so we might have to look for new fishing spots.” He explains and tears into his fish hungrily.

��We need to find more boar.” You sigh, pulling more bones from your fish. “We need the protein.”

He meets your gaze, blinking slowly as he watches you eat before nodding.

Neither of you has to vocalize your worry about protein and your health in case of a pregnancy.

“I think I spotted some yuca root on the far side of the island too. Some nopal and jícama too. We’ve been eating a lot of fruit; we’ll need to mix in some vegetables…for…it’ll be good for you.” He smiles, trying so hard to be relaxed.

“Vegetables…” You lament, moaning with desire for the long-forgotten tastes.

“I know. I’d love some good french fries.”

“Oh my-why would you bring up french fries?!”

Bucky chuckles. “Sorry. Just popped in there.”

Nervously, you lick your lips of the flavor of fish and set aside your leaf and tray.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look up, focused instead on his food.

“We should make plans, just in case.”

“Not yet.” He sighs, the corners of his mouth curving down.

“We need to.”

“Not yet.” He insists.

“Bucky.” You press.

“Damn it, Y/N,” He looks up at you, shaking his head in resistance. “Not yet.”

“We have to, babe.” You smile sadly, shrugging your shoulders. “You may not want to think about it, but we have to. We gave in and with that comes the chance that the two of us could turn into three and we can’t afford to put this off. If something happens to me while I’m giving birth-”

“Okay!” He cuts you off, nodding. His eyes a little wild as he thinks quicky. “I agree, we need to make plans, but right now I’m not worried about what could happen in months. I need to find the caves Ryan was talking about and take some rations over there so that we have somewhere to go when this hurricane inevitably hits.”

“It might not come.” You argue, more hopeful than right.

“It will.” Bucky assures you. “And I can’t afford to get distracted until we’ve gotten all that setup. We will have this conversation just not yet. Okay? I know you’re worried. So am I.”

“And excited?” You check, a little timidly because yes, although you’re worried, you can’t deny the appeal that having Bucky’s baby holds.

A little one running around that looks like him? Sounds like him? The baby could very well look like you and sound like you too and that wouldn’t be so bad, but a little Bucky is too appealing not to hope for.

Bucky leans towards you, reaching to place his hand over yours as his eyes soften. “Of course, kitten. Yes, I’m excited too. It would be much sooner than I was hoping but I meant it when I said that I wanted this with you.”

Relief washes over you and you’re able to relax a little.

“But we’ll have time for that after I make sure I have somewhere safe for us to go.” He takes his hand back, focusing on his food once again.

You allow him to eat in silence for a bit, leaning back against the palm log as you watch the horizon with unfocused eyes.

A terrible thought has been growing in your mind for a while now. A thought you’ve been too scared to speak aloud for fear of robbing Bucky of his hope. The more determined he gets though you know you can’t avoid it any longer.

“Bucky?”

“Hm?”

“Bucky what if he lied about that too?” You try to subdue your fear as best you can, but you know you can’t hide it all. “What if he was dropped off on the island at some point and then came and joined us as the co-pilot-”

No, wait. You do remember seeing him on the plane though. He really was the co-pilot. Still…

“What if he jumped out and got picked up and then sent back to make sure you were dead? What if there are no caves? What if there’s nowhere safe on the island to sit through a stronger hurricane than the one when we crashed here?”

“The mountains on the other side of the island are large and they go on for almost the entire shoreline. Even if he made up his caves, I’m sure there are some. There has to be.” Bucky insists, determination invigorating his voice. “I’ll find us somewhere safe, kitten. I promise.”

“You’ve been promising me somewhere safe since we landed here. I’m starting to think you mean it.” You tease and hope it’s enough to draw a smile after the cloud you just summoned.

Lucky you, it works, and Bucky huffs a small laugh.

“I love you.” He tells you, voice low and soft.

“I love you, too.”

As the two of you stupidly get lost in each other’s eyes, the sudden sound of a voice echoes in the heated air.

You can’t make out what it says, but it’s clear though distant.

Both your faces are overcome with confusion as you continue to stare at each other.

“What was that?” You wonder, and Bucky shakes his head.

The voice is louder this time, still unintelligible but still clear enough to be a voice.

Bucky suddenly bolts up, turning and running down along the beach from where he’d come.

“Bucky?” You hurry up, chasing after him.

He stops suddenly and squints towards the rocks that jut out into the water blocking the side of the island where you have the nets set up.

“What is it?” You gasp, tired from the run to keep up.

“Shh.” Bucky orders and you swallow hard, trying desperately to quiet your breathing.

“Can anyone hear me?” The voice says, deep and easy. “I am looking for a decrepit old man, probably grumpy. Most definitely surly and usually wearing a frown. Long hair. Needs a cut. Worse looking than me.”

From around the rocks comes a boat, a small vessel meant to travel from a larger ship to land. On it is a whole crew of marines. At the bow holding a steel gray megaphone to his lips is a handsome black man, sturdily built wearing a familiar red and gray suit.

“Bucky…” You gasp, your heart nearly seizing as your brain tries to process the fact that there is a boat full of soldiers right offshore.

“Sam?” Bucky whispers, too shocked to speak any louder.

As this Sam spots the two of you, he breaks into a smile and drops the megaphone to slap against his thigh. He’s ecstatic to see Bucky and when he lifts the megaphone back to his mouth, he laughs once.

“You are a pain in my ass, Barnes.” Sam says, smirking at him from the boat as it stops far enough out that it’ll be an easy swim to reach them. “Why am I always looking for you and why can’t you make it easier? I’m putting a chip in your ass as soon as we get back home.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader fanfiction #castaway au #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky x you fanfiction #bucky x reader fanfic #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fanfic #bucky barnes x reader fic #deserted island au #desert island au #a world of our own #awooo

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 30: Waiting

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Some comic relief. Kung Lao and Liu Kang have an adult-ish conversation before it turns into a much less mature conversation. Mostly about you. About some other stuff too. Sure hope that no one overheard it or anything.

A/N: Some humor to break up those last few chapters. Saturday is the chapter with the choice at the end then my posting schedule has to swap around a bit, will probably be Monday and Friday? One for Liu one for Lao? That cool?

Part 29 Part 31 Chapter Index

Liu Kang changed his bandages while seated on the floor of his room with his door open. Kung Lao leaned against the frame of the door with his arms folded across his chest. Liu turned his attention to his brother and offered a weary smile. Kung Lao had been checking on you for them both since Chen had sent them away. Liu had suggested that they wait patiently but even he’d had a difficult time not worrying about you. When Kung Lao had told him where to shove that idea, he’d relented. Liu had been the one to care for you when you’d first arrived. He wanted to be the one to care for you now.

Raiden had said something about them both becoming too attached.

Liu hadn’t argued even if he thought that was a ridiculous reason to keep their distance.

“Have you heard anything yet?”

“That woman taking care of Y/N turned me away again and this time she was mean.” The annoyance in Kung Lao’s voice was completely unjustified. His vendetta against the people working in the infirmary was extremely silly. But Kung Lao wouldn’t talk about it and Liu Kang couldn’t make him.

“She needs taking care of, Lao.”

“Yeah, which I am perfectly capable of doing.”

“You are not qualified.” Liu chuckled as he finished wrapping up his arm. It had healed as well as could be expected over the last few days. It would take a few weeks to be back to normal, but he was prepared for the climb. “You don’t even take of yourself when you need it.

“Only because they make me go to the infirmary every time. They don’t trust me to do it alone.”

“Because you don’t do it.” Liu stood and dusted himself off. “When was the last time that you checked your bandages or your wounds? Are you even bothering with them anymore?”

“No, because they’re fine.”

“I think I just made my point. Everyone’s point.”

“You get to take care of your wounds. Why do I have to go to the infirmary to do it?”

“Because I’m qualified. And I actually do it.” He threw away the old bandages.

Kung Lao grumbled and then tilted the door closed behind him before leaning against the nearby wall. Liu sat on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh. He was listless. Doing nothing and waiting patiently was part of what they did in Raiden’s Temple, but it didn’t mean that he was content to do it. While he composed himself better than Kung Lao, he was just as worried and frustrated by the lack of control he had.

“I’m going to sneak in through her window. She can’t stop me from there. I’ll fall to my death. She doesn’t want to be responsible for that.”

“That’s a terrible idea. One of your worst.” Liu laughed in disbelief at his brother. “Sure, you’ll get in, but she’ll kick you right out after. Not to mention that you’re going to terrify the poor woman. And Y/N’s bed is right beneath the window. You could hurt her.”

“I could just use my hat.” He tapped the brim.

“Same results, Lao.” Liu rested his elbow on his knee and ran his fingers through his hair. “Chen is good at what she does. Y/N is in capable hands.”

Kung Lao took a seat next to him with a frustrated huff. They sat in tense silence.

“How is your arm doing, anyway?”

“It’s healing fine. Stitches will be coming out soon.” Liu patted the bandage on his left arm. He had a relatively high pain tolerance, and he wasn’t the type to complain. It’d hurt like a son of a bitch when the ink had sliced through his flesh, but he’d been more worried about you in the moment. “No more fever which has helped tremendously.”

“I hear that.” Kung Lao was staring wide-eyed in front of him. He had so little patience, which was something Liu usually gave him hell for, but in this situation, he was right there alongside him. They sat in silence again, a frequent occurrence over the past few days. So much had happened since they had last had a chance to speak and neither one of them seemed willing to talk about it. They’d spent plenty of time together waiting for you to wake up, but it had mostly been in frustrated silence.

“Did she tell you?” Lao didn’t turn his wide-eyed gaze away from the floor.

“Tell me what?

“That we kissed.” Kung Lao clasped his hands together in front of him and tapped his fingers nervously against his other hand. Liu Kang heaved a sigh and tried not to let it bother him, but he was sure that his silence said more than enough. He shouldn’t have been surprised.

“No, she didn’t. But I suspected as much after how she behaved in Huangshan. You had her all mixed up.” Liu tapped his foot and then let go of his frustration with a breath. He had gotten into his head that you were his Y/N. This wasn’t easy to talk about for either of them. “I think she was afraid to tell me. Afraid of how I’d react.” Rationalizing it had been enough to wipe the remaining frustration completely away. “She carries more guilt than she lets on, I think.”

“Funny that you put it that way because she didn’t seem to have a problem telling me that she’d kissed you.”

Was Kung Lao trying to get on his nerves? He did that sometimes, but Liu had gotten good at navigating his way around it. He laughed under his breath and Kung Lao seemed genuinely surprised not to have annoyed him.

“You have known her since you were nine, Kung Lao. You have a connection that is deeply rooted in your childhood. It’s nothing like the one I have with her. It is worlds apart.”

“Wow, I don’t think that I’ve heard that kind of jealousy from you since we were teenagers.” Kung Lao smirked. Liu tapped his foot and heaved another sigh. It wasn’t the connection that had caused his renewed frustration. This had gone on for too long.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore.” Liu frowned. “I can’t get it out of my head. I want out of the bet. I never felt good about it to begin with, Kung Lao. It’s making me act differently. I don’t want any part of it.”

“So, you’re chickening out, huh?”

Liu rolled his eyes.

“Why are you doing this, Lao?”

“What kind of question is that? Did I not explain the bet to you?”

“Are you sabotaging any chance you might actually have with someone you care about?” Liu watched Kung Lao instantly stiffen up and knew he’d hit the nail right on the head. “When I was brought to the temple and we became family, you spoke of Y/N so fondly. Now she’s here and you’re willing to risk any relationship that you have rebuilt with her so that you don’t have to do a few chores? It’s absurd, Lao. You don’t think she’s going to be upset? Feel gross about it? Because I feel gross about it.”

Kung Lao clenched his jaw and stopped tapping his foot and fingers and stared at the floor again instead. Liu waited patiently and rotated his left shoulder, feeling the stinging in his arm and the pain that radiated down to his fingertips. He would focus on stretching his muscles until Kung Lao was done arguing in his head. He did that sometimes, especially when he was arguing with Liu. This wasn’t the first time that he’d told Kung Lao a harsh truth and it wouldn’t be the last. Kung Lao had done the same for him, but it had been less necessary over the years. Liu Kang was the type who saw his shortcomings before others did.

“I really hate when you call me out on my bullshit.” Kung Lao finally chuckled.

“Call it what you will, Lao. If you won’t let me back out of the bet, then I forfeit. I’ll do your chores. I don’t care. I stand by what I said when you first suggested it. I don’t want to bet on someone else’s feelings. Let her feel what she feels authentically so that I can feel what I feel authentically.” He mussed up his hair in annoyance.

“It’s fine.” Kung Lao deflated next to him. It was comical. His posture had completely changed. “Honestly, I felt pretty terrible about it by the end of our trip to Japan. Like I was… manipulating her. I didn’t mean for it to be like that. I thought it was a harmless and fun thing but you’re probably right. I’m purposely… screwing it up.” Kung Lao unclasped his hands and stood then dragged the chair from Liu’s desk and sat on it backwards. He couldn’t seem to sit still since you had fallen unconscious. Liu had struggled with that too, but he’d always had an easier time focusing than Kung Lao had. “The bet’s off. I’ll tell her about it, I guess. I don’t want to feel like I’m hiding anything anymore.”

“Is that so?” Liu smiled, feeling a little relief. “Not going to make me do your chores?”

“Not over this at least. I’ll weasel out of them some other way, I’m sure.” Kung Lao grinned. He seemed like himself for the first time in days. Maybe it really had been weighing on him as heavily as it had been weighing on Liu.

“Does that mean I was right? Self-sabotage?”

“Ugh, can you not rub it in? Just for once?”

“Not a chance.” Liu Kang laughed, and Kung Lao leaned his arms on the back of the chair then rested his chin on them with a heavy sigh. Whatever happened, he knew that they would be okay. They’d broken the dam when it came to talking about it, which felt nice if not a little daunting. At some point, he had gotten nervous to bring it up again. He didn’t want to hurt Kung Lao, but he couldn’t give up on you either even if he couldn’t get it out of his head that it was selfish for him not to.

“So, she kissed you again, huh?” Kung Lao diverted attention away from his emotions, something he did very frequently. Funny enough, Liu thought that you did the same thing. You were similar in many ways. “…wait, you didn’t want to end the bet because you uh…” Kung Lao sat upright, and alert suddenly then made a motion with his hands that was rather crude. Liu Kang hesitated but then shook his head no. “You didn’t win and not tell me, did you?”

“Those weren’t the terms of the bet, remember? I would have never agreed if it had been.”

“That’s evasive, Liu.”

“I’m just saying that the conditions had to do with her choice and not any physical achievement, Kung Lao. We’re not stupid kids.”

“Wow, this is so incredibly defensive.” Kung Lao whispered in wonder.

“I dislike talking about this with you.” Liu Kang frowned. “Talking about her like this with you. It’s uncomfortable.”

“I hate it too!” Kung Lao laughed and threw his arms up in frustration then let them fall back over the chair dramatically. “Just… look, tell me if I lost. Tell me if I don’t stand a chance. I just want her to be happy.” He said this all with a grumble, as if it were like pulling teeth to say it. It was funny how uncomfortable he was with his emotions.

“That’s what I want too.” Liu Kang nodded to agree. “And I’m not the one to decide who wins or loses. And this isn’t a bet anymore.”

“No more bet.”

“The bet is off.” Liu Kang sighed with a relief. He wasn’t sure that Kung Lao was going to actually let it go. He was difficult to read. “That’s a huge relief.”

“Yeah, I mean… yes and no for me. You called me out and now I have to think about that.”

“Poor, poor Kung Lao. Having to think his own thoughts.”

“It’s a burden, really.”

“We have to tell her, Lao.”

“Yeah, I know. Can’t fix the self-sabotage thing if I don’t. And if you tell her and I don’t then that makes me look bad and we… we all know you and honesty, for the most part.”

“I can lie when I need to but I’m not going to lie about this.” Liu folded his arms over his chest. They sat in awkward silence again. There were plenty of things that they should have talked about, but it still felt weird to. Usually, they would have joked about this kind of thing and had the other to confide in, but they were both worried about hurting the other’s feelings and dashing their hopes.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Hmm?” Hadn’t he? He didn’t remember not answering Kung Lao.

“I asked if you two… you know.”

“Can you not say the words, Kung Lao? Are you not an adult?”

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to picture you two doing that.” Kung Lao stuck his tongue out and then shook his head as if to dismiss the mental image. “But did you?”

“No. I thought I told you no.” Liu had hesitated again. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to on your trip. No, he had wanted to, but he had thought about that stupid bet and how much it could potentially hurt you to have done that and then found out there had been stakes attached to your emotions. He’d pulled himself back because of it more than once while you were in Huangshan.

“How am I supposed to interpret that, Liu?” Kung Lao was laughing, at least. Liu Kang hung his head and Kung Lao only laughed harder.

“Look, she had a nightmare, so I let her sleep in my bed.”

“I’m sort of disappointed that you didn’t get laid at the end of this story.”

“It was your stupid bet that ruined it.” Liu chuckled but he could feel his face turning red.

“What, did you wake up with a half chub or something?” Kung Lao was teasing him, but he’d gotten to the end of the story before Liu had found a less crude way to tell it and Liu covered his face in embarrassment. Kung Lao was wheezing with laughter. “Liu! You didn’t!”

“In my defense, I was having a nice dream and she was right there in my arms and…”

“Wow, Liu. That’s more me than you.”

“I’m only human, Kung Lao.”

“Just, wow.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Liu pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. His face was still burning but it felt nice to laugh about it with Kung Lao. He hadn’t talked to you about it because that felt like opening a floodgate and he’d needed to end this stupid bet first. Plus, it was kind of a difficult conversation to start. It was easier just to make a move.

“Did she… notice… or?”

“…I hate that you guessed so accurately. I never would have told you outright.”

“It’s amazing.” Kung Lao smacked the back of the chair in glee. “So?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she noticed, Kung Lao.” Liu Kang hung his head again, hands on his knees. Kung Lao was practically choking to death with how hard he was laughing at him. “You could try to enjoy my misfortune a little less.”

“This is the funniest thing that has happened in weeks, Liu Kang.” He wiped a tear away and tried to regain his breath. “Why didn’t you just go for it? I would have gone for it. Wouldn’t have given it a second thought.”

“Well, I’m not you. All I could think about was how hurt she would be if we did that and then found out about the stupid bet. And she had been so frightened after her nightmare. I played it off the best that I could given the circumstances.” Liu was laughing now too. He couldn’t help it. It was funny. And it felt good to laugh after having done nothing but worry and stress for three days.

“You know what, Liu? You are a much better man than I am sometimes.” Kung Lao wiped his eyes and regained his composure. “I never would have let that opportunity pass.”

“I know. I had no intention of telling you the truth either.”

“I’m glad you did. I needed a good laugh.”

“At my expense, of course.”

“Of course.”

Silence fell again, but it was at least less awkward. Liu supposed if that came at his expense than he was okay with it.

“What do we do now?” Liu sighed. Kung Lao was avoiding his eyes again.

“I don’t think it’s really up to us what happens next with that.”

“Yeah.” Liu nodded to agree. “…no hard feelings no matter what happens, right?”

“Not going to be that simple, I think.”

“Of course not, Kung Lao. But above all things, you are my brother.”

“Yes. Nothing will change that. It might just be weird while we figure it out.”

“Yeah, probably.” Liu didn’t have much else to say on the matter. Silence again. While he felt relieved that they’d cleared the air and sorted things out, it still weighed heavily on them both.

“…I’m going to check on her again.” Kung Lao stood and stretched his arms before nodding toward the door. “Want to come with me? Might overwhelm her.”

“No, I don’t need to see you harassing that poor woman again. She said that she’d tell us when Y/N wakes up.”

“I don’t believe her, Liu.”

“You have made that abundantly clear.” Liu Kang smiled, and Kung Lao bowed his head to say goodbye. “If I hear any jokes at my expense throughout the rest of the temple, Kung Lao, you will be sorry.”

“My lips are sealed, Liu.” Kung Lao chuckled again under his breath and then left Liu Kang alone with his thoughts.

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years

Text

29. Dabi

Theme: Frankenstein’s monster

Kinks: Size kink, cowgirl, doggie style, slight fluff*

*Due to the dark nature of the previous chapters, I changed the content here ever so slightly for more light-hearted content.

Masterlist

You trembled as you walked into the chamber. The cold, damp walls made you shiver, just as they always did. No matter how many times you trekked down those steep stone stairs, you always bundled up when venturing to your father's laboratory. The heat rising in your face was little comfort against the chill. You stole the key and made a copy of it, which you now carried in your hand. You hurried to the last cell in the subterranean labyrinth. You fixed the key in the lock and turned it. The iron door moaned as you opened it before you quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind you, leaving the key in the lock. You lit your lamp and cast its dull orange glow around the room. Each item made your heart sink. On the many of those parchment sheets covering the walls were written letters, poems, and journal entries, things your father never paid any attention to. His interest resided only in what his creation was capable of physically doing, not its mental processes. If only you could make your father see the truth. The cell's furnishings were minimum: a rickety old desk and chair, a basin for washing, and a large bed. There wasn't anything else. The creature didn't eat; didn't need to. Even sleeping was something of an illusion. It—he never tired. You were an excellent witness to that. On the bed, a lump was formed out of several layers of quilts. You tiptoed to the bed and set the lamp on a stool. You peeled back the covers and slid up to the body hiding underneath. You kissed the patches of stitched skin that made up his shoulder. "Dabi, are you alright?" You whispered. The body next to yours shifted. Your father's creation rolled over unto its side, facing you. Regardless of what your father said, Dabi was not a 'creature' and certainly not an 'it.' Dabi was a 'he' and 'he' was a person. You couldn't make your father see the truth when he looked into Dabi's turquoise eyes. He couldn't witness the fire burning behind Dabi's eyes. All he cared about Dabi's attributes and how they could be used. As far as your father was concerned, Dabi was an assembled puppet of his own making and one that contained no soul. You two would never see eye to eye ever again. "I am now," said Dabi. His long arms and strong hands wrapped around you. "I have good news." "What is it?" Dabi rubbed his eyes as if rubbing the sleep from them, an absurd habit one he probably retained when he was still a living human. "I managed to get a wagon. I'll be spending all day tomorrow hiding it on the grounds. Father will be so busy with other things that he won't even notice. Tomorrow night, we fly!" You smiled. "Tomorrow night?" Dabi's eyes widened. You nodded your head with enthusiasm. "Tomorrow night!" Scarred lips pressed against your smooth mouth. Fingers held together with stitches, and iron staples scraped along your skin. Your warm body was held flush against his cold torso. The dichotomy of his cool flesh and your warm skin was palatable. The first time Dabi touched you, you shivered. He wouldn't speak to you for a weak because he thought you shivered out of fear. It took you twice as long to make him understand that wasn't the case. "We'll both be free," said Dabi. "Yes, you and me together. Out of this place. For good!" "I do like the sound of that." Dabi rubbed infinite circles into your hips. "Sounds like a reason to celebrate." "What did you…have in mind?" You asked innocently enough. "I want to have you, all of you. I want to feel your warm walls surrounding me as I—how did that writer put it? Rearrange your guts?" Your cheeks darkened; you should have never given him that "romance" novel. You and Dabi hadn't yet gone all the way, but what better way to inaugurate your last night in the castle by fucking under your father's roof. Dabi wasn't brain dead, as your father claimed. Several lessons from you proved Dabi to be a fast learner. But his size. Dabi was large, assembled from different pieces of men of unique proportions. During your other escapades, you felt his cock hardened between your legs as you straddled Dabi's hips. It didn't take much imagination to know that he was packing heat between his legs. "Do you really want me?" You asked. Dabi rolled unto his back, taking you with him. He lifted you like you weighed nothing and made you straddle his waist. Long, thick fingers dove under your dressing gown's ruffled skirts and bunched it around your hips. Your thighs and what lay between them were exposed to Dabi's view. If he was shocked by your lack of underwear, he didn't make it known. His giant hands palmed your outer thighs; they were almost big enough to wrap around your legs. He stroked your legs up and down and came to your hips to massage them. You hummed in appreciation of his gentle touch but wished he could be a bit rougher with you. A man his size could do all sorts of wonderful things to your tight little body. "I should be asking you that." Dabi untied the knot that held his drawstring pants up and pushed down the thin material. His cock had been straining in his pants since the moment you tiptoed into the room. He'd been waiting patiently for several weeks to get the courage to ask. He felt your sopping—what was it called again? Cunt? He felt your sopping cunt drool all over his stomach. He fisted his cock and let you feel it against your ass. He loved how your face turned two shades darker when you felt him. Dabi grabbed your hips and shifted you upwards. Your body hovered over his cock. Slowly, he sank you down on him. You were being impaled by him. Your walls didn't accept him quickly, but they stretched and stretched until you were fully seated on top of him. You threw your head back as soon as the blunt head teased your cervix. You steadied yourself by placing your hands on his waist before moving. Dabi reached for the hem of your dressing gown and pulled. Your breasts tumbled out for him to watch bounce while you rode him hard. Dabi wasn't your first man, but he was your biggest. He was impossibly thick and broad, and the ridged veins rubbed against your walls better than no other, before or even after. "Fuck, D-Dabi!" It was a good thing you were all the way in the dungeons. No one could hear you moan and scream in ecstasy. "Does it feel good?" Dabi asked with the nonchalance of a man who had several women under his belt before. "Y-Yes." You bounced harder on his cock, moving faster up and down the shaft. Your walls cinched around him. "Then show me. Show me how good I make you feel, little thing," Dabi grunted. He thrust upwards into you. You flicked your clit while impaling yourself over and over and over again. All too quickly, you came undone around him. Your juices coated him. Dabi pulled out as you were coming. You dripped all over him before you were shoved face down into his bed. You felt the bed shift as Dabi moved behind you. Your legs were spread open for him. His cock was still hard as a rock. "My turn," he growled. Dabi buried himself deep into your womb and pulled back until just the thick tip remained. He pushed inside you again, all the way in. You dug your hands into the blankets and fisted them, and your cries were muffled by the musty pillow covering your face. Dabi's hands bruised your hips as he brought you flush against him. "Do you still feel good, Y/N?" "Yes!" Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. "D-Don't stop!" "As you wish," Dabi chuckled and redoubled his efforts. Dabi moved at a punishing pace. The sound of your flesh colliding with his made it all the more lewd. You couldn't help but squirt and clench around him. Dabi snapped his hips into you hard. Ribbons of hot cum painted your walls white. You wailed as it hit you and filled you up. Dabi stayed buried in you until your body stopped shaking. Cleaning you, his hands were gentle as if he hadn't spent the last hour or two making you come all of his cock. You fixed your clothes and bade him goodnight. You hated to turn the key that locked him inside. Your only consolation was that it would be for the last time.

#my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha smut #reader fic #kinktober #kinktober week #dabi #dabi x reader #minors do not interact #Minors begone

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ghstandpucks · 3 years

Text

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch.10

Chapter 10!!! Oh wow, we’re here! I was excited about this chapter, as I am with the next one! I hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you think of the series this far! I only have a few chapters left in my head to write for it, so we are getting closer to the end!

I hope you are all healthy and safe, and Happy Holidays!!! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in the series! Enjoy!

Cutting Edge Master List

Returning to Denver after Christmas, you spent most of your time at the rink after practice working on polishing your own skating again. You had been informed that all skating coaches would be performing at the upcoming NHL All-Stars weekend, and every figure skater had been sent music to choreograph a routine to. Luckily for you, choreography was one of your strong points. You had always loved putting your own routines together, and this was no exception. You had been sent the song CHAMPION by Bishop Briggs and though you loved the song, you knew your routine had to be flawless to skate to it. You were the reigning Olympic champion after all. Nate would stay most of the time with you, trying his best to be helpful and give you his opinion when you asked for it. He admittedly did not know much about figure skating though and usually just told you everything looked great, even when you knew it probably wasn’t. You appreciated his support though none the less.

Two weeks before the All-Star break was set, you found yourself traveling to Dallas as the boys had a game against the Stars. Along with the Stars came the one figure skater you could live without ever dealing with again, Ashley Wagner. Beside Nate, no one knew the animosity that was between the two of you, and you were hoping to keep it that way. You didn’t need to worry the team with a petty feud between two rival figure skaters.

You were staring out the window of the plane when you felt someone sit down next to you. Turning, you saw Nate settling into the seat as he gave you a questioning look. “You okay?” he asked. He knew you weren’t looking forward seeing Ashley, and was not sure what this new environment would bring out. You smiled and nodded, opening your book again to distract you.

Nate was worried about you. He had been watching you stress yourself out over putting together a perfect routine for the All-Stars, not to mention helping Jeremy put his together over multiple facetimes. Apparently, you were the one to come to with routine questions. He thought it was amazing, how you could take a song and within two days have a mostly completed routine laid out, he would never be that creative. But between coaching, working on your skating, and running to dress fittings at a shop you found in Denver, he had never seen you look so worn out. Nate was worried that if Ashley pushed a button correctly, you would snap. Your smile may be able to fool everyone else, but Nate had been paying attention over the two months you had been together and was starting to be able to read you like a book. Though it was comforting to you that he knew how you were feeling without even saying it; it also put you on edge. You were used to concealing your feelings behind a smile, and with Nate you couldn’t anymore.

The team landed in Dallas the evening before their game, and you enjoyed dinner with them before heading to your hotel room. You were just crawling into bed with the cooking channel on when there was a knock at your door. Opening it, Nate stepped in quickly and shut the door behind him. “What are you doing here?” you asked. When you traveled, the two of you didn’t spend time in each other’s rooms unless someone else was around to prevent any suspicion.

“No one saw me, we’re fine,” he said, placing a soft kiss on you lips. He grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the bed, getting in on his side as you did the same. “I won’t stay long,” he said gently as you rested your head on his chest. His arm that was around you started drawing absent minded figures on your waist underneath your shirt, as his other hand held yours. “I’ll leave early before anyone should be up,” he said into your hair as you both drifted off.

Around 5am, you heard Nate’s alarm go off and felt him get out of bed. He chuckled as you mumbled incoherently and deftly reached for him. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead. You sleepily watched him walk to the door and peak his head out, giggling at his large figure trying to be sneaky as he made his way out.

~ ~ ~

This was not happening. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Who does interviews before anything happens! You absentmindedly grabbed the figure skate charm on your necklace and bit your lip. You had just been told that you would be doing a pre-game interview. That wasn’t what was bothering you though. What was bothering you was that you would be doing the interview with Ashley. You knew someone had happened across your not so friendly history and planned this because you have never done an interview with any of the other skating coaches.

You were ushered to the area and sat down in front of a microphone when you were announced. Ashley walked in after, smiling brightly at you. You returned it, quickly snapping into performance mode. At first the questions were fine; how did you like being with your team, how were things going, did you miss skating yourself. Then the question came of how do you think your team will do in the game tonight. Ashley, being asked first, put on a brilliant smile that made you want to role your eyes. God she was so fake. “I think we’ll do great! I know how Y/N skates and I have prepared them for it. The Stars are a great team so we shouldn’t have a problem.” You kept your smile light, trying your best not to roll your eyes at her. The same question was then directed to you.

“I believe that the team is prepared. Similar to what Ashley said, I know how she skates and it should be a good game,” you answered. You heard Ashley snicker quietly and you had to bite your tongue. This was not the time or place to lose your temper on her. After a few more questions, you were asked to take a picture together. You had been fiddling with your necklace and didn’t pay any attention to it until you realized Ashley was looking at it.

“That’s new. Why is there a 29 on it?” she asked. You froze, but quickly recovered and turned the charm back around.

“It’s the maker of the charm,” you tried to shrug off. As you walked out of the room of the interview, Ashley followed.

“I’ve never heard of them. Where can I order one?” she pestered.

“It’s this little boutique in Denver. They don’t have a website,” you said off the top of your head.

“Well that’s too bad. Maybe you can take me to this 29 store the next time we’re in Denver?”

“Of course.” You both faked a smile at each other as you got to the hallway leading to the locker rooms. Unfortunately for you, Nate had stepped outside to see where you were. The team had seen the interview and you were taking a little long to get back. He volunteered to make sure you weren’t lost. Ashley didn’t miss him.

“What a coincidence, 29 looks like he’s looking for you,” she smirked, leaving for the Stars locker room. You walked over to Nate and started to push him back into the locker room. To say he was slightly confused was an understatement.

It was late in the third period, the score tied 1-1. The game had been highly physical, and you couldn’t help but be on edge. You were standing on the bench when the final buzzard went off, and the game was pushed into overtime. The game became even more physical if that was even possible, and you jumped as Perry checked Cale into the boards in front of you. A time out was called by the Stars, and you glanced briefly over to their bench. As you did, you saw Ashley say something to Jamie Benn, and he smirked looking your way. You saw him then eye Nate, and you had a bad feeling about it. Watching as Benn skated over to Nate, you could tell he was saying something. Nate tried his best to ignore the left winger, and you wish you could hear what was being said. The puck dropped, and as quickly as it hit the ice, gloves were also falling. You watched as Nate and Benn went at it, wanting to hide behind your hands but also not being able to look away. Without notice, you grabbed onto Tyson’s arm as he was the player you were standing behind. The bench was yelling, the crowd was cheering, and you didn’t know what to do. Watching hockey fights on tv or from the stands was one thing; but watching from the bench as the player you were dating was duking it out with another had you frozen in place.

To your relief, you saw Benn hit the ice with Nate on top and the refs scrambled to separate them. What you weren’t prepared for though was seeing Nate with a cut at his eyebrow, blood gushing from it. You unintentionally squeezed Tyson’s arm, and he turned back to you. “He’s fine Y/N,” he spoke lightly, patting your hand with his glove. Looking at him, you nodded and tried to compose yourself. Your first instinct was to run to Nate and see if he was alright, but you knew you couldn’t do that. All you could do was watch as he was escorted off the ice, his penalty longer than the amount of time left in the game. Benn had a bloody nose, and what looked like a busted lip, but that didn’t stop him from smirking over at you. You watched as Ashley tried to hide a laugh, and you were thankful that the game was about to resume or else you may have yelled something you shouldn’t. Unfortunately, a man down with Nate off the ice, the Stars scored first, effectively winning the game.

You were waiting outside the medical room wanting to see Nate as the Avs started to spill out of the locker room and head for the bus. You were in your own head, blaming yourself for the loss when you heard someone walk up to you. Looking up, you saw Tyson with a concerned look on his face. “You know he’s fine right? They probably just have to stitch up his eyebrow if anything,” he said, trying to judge your reaction.

“I feel like it’s my fault,” you whispered, tears starting to blur your vison.

“What do you mean? None of this is your fault Coach,” Tyson responded, confused as to why you were blaming yourself.

“I think he got in the fight because of me; because stupid Ashley can’t keep her mouth shut. And then we lost because we were a man down and it’s all my fault,” you swiped at a pesky tear that had fallen. Tyson wasn’t sure what to do, not entirely understanding why you were taking the loss so personally. They had lost a few times before and he didn’t think you had been this effected by it.

“You’re losing me. Why would Nate’s fight be your fault?” As Tyson finished his question, you grabbed the charm on your necklace and flipped it over to show him. You saw the moment his confusion turned into realization at what the ‘29’ was referring to. “Wait you and Mac?” he whispered, eyes wide and smile threatening to show. You nodded. “I knew it! Since when?”

“Since the home opener. But we’re keeping it quiet so you need to calm down right now!”

“Does anyone else know?” he asked, trying and failing to compose his face.

“Only Gabe and Andre on the team. Mel knows, and my best friend Jeremy knows, plus our parents but that’s it.” You said, then remembered why you were having this conversation to begin with. “But now I think Ashley knows, at least she guessed when she saw my necklace which is why this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have been playing with it which drew her attention to it and it landed on the wrong side.” You wiped angrily at another tear that fell, annoyed. You had always been a crier when you were mad though; it was how you dealt best with the emotion. Tyson went to comfort you as the door behind him opened. You looked around him and saw Nate, with the outlines of an apparent black eye and medical tape over fresh stitches over his right eye on his eyebrow ridge. You rushed around Tyson and wrapped your arms around Nate’s sternum, hugging him not caring that he hadn’t showered yet. He held you with one arm, his stuff in the other as he looked at Tyson who was smiling like an idiot.

“See you two lovebirds on the bus,” the younger man saluted and walked off. Nate stared after him confused for a second, but then seeing no one was around he bent down and planted a kiss on top of your head. You separated from him, looking up into his blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry if this is because of me,” you whispered, not bothering to stop another tear that had fallen.

“It’s fine baby. Does Josty know about us?” Nate asked, wiping a tear with the pad of his thumb. It was a risk, being this close in public. But he hadn’t seen you cry before, and he wanted to be near you after what Benn had said on the ice. You nodded and grabbed his hand, noticing he had also split one of his knuckles.

“I was freaking out because Ashley saw the 29 on my necklace and I think she figured it out and said something to Benn. I feel like it’s my fault we lost and I ended up telling Tyson.” You were looking down at your hands, then looked back up to him, your heart clenching at how concerned he looked when it should have been the other way around. “Why did you get in the fight?” you asked softly.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not your fault though. We’re a team Y/N, all of us. I screwed up and let what Benn said get to me. If it is anyone’s fault we lost, it’s mine,” Nate shook his head as you opened your mouth to protest. He really did not want to tell you what Benn had said as it had all been in regards to you. He had been vulgar, and Nate snapped. Giving your hand a slight squeeze, he continued. “I’m going to go change. Why don’t you get to the bus and I’ll see you in a bit okay?” You nodded, and Nate watched as you walked away. Though he was upset with himself for getting in a fight and subsequently losing the game, he would do it again for you in a heartbeat. And as you walked away from him toward the bus, he realized for the first time that he would do anything for you, and you were taking his heart with you piece by piece.

An hour later found you sitting against your headboard, giggling at Andre’s reaction to the Hallmark movie you had playing. He had complained about it at first, but your room your rules. He had surprisingly gotten into the plot, and was yelling at the man who mistakenly thought the main character was with someone else when he wanted to confess his feelings for her. After Chip Gate (what you loving dubbed Tyson and Cale’s chip debate after the first game), your room had become the place the team drifted to. Whether it was to conceal junk food that they shouldn’t be eating, an ear to listen to girl problems, or a comforting environment in terms of a loss on the road, you became the team’s go to person. Not to mention you had motherly tendencies and didn’t mind being there and fussing over everyone. It made you feel even more accepted as part of the team. This is why at the moment Andre was sitting on the floor leaning against the bed, Tyson had taken his usual spot laying across the foot of the bed, and Cale was sitting in the desk chair.

Before you could tell Andre to be quiet so you could hear what was being said, there was a knock at your door. Tyson got up and answered, Nate walking into the room behind him. His eye was swollen and bruising, but he seemed more relaxed as he walked over to the side of the bed and sat next to you. He put his arm around you, pulling you into his side and placing a kiss on your head. “Did I miss something?” you heard Cale speak up and you looked at Nate with wide eyes and a slight giggle.

“Dammit,” Nate mumbled. He forgot Cale didn’t know. This was the first time he thought he could be open with you, forgetting the young defenseman was still in the dark about your relationship.

“Coach and Nate are dating. Now shut up so we can see the guy stop being an idiot.” Tyson responded. “Also Coach, I hate you for making me so interested in this movie,” he complained over his shoulder.

“You know you love it,” you teased, snuggling into Nate’s side. Cale kept going between staring at you and Nate, then the tv, unsure of when this happened and how others knew. Luckily for him, the movie ended 20 minutes later and he started asking questions. You told him how you got together and asked him not say anything because you were keeping it quiet.

“Of course, but why do they know?” he asked.

“I was on the phone with Burky and Y/N sneezed in the background, and Josty just found out today because…why again?” Nate asked you.

“I was freaking out about you getting into a fight,” you answered.

“Does anyone else on the team know?” Cale questioned.

“Gabe, but that’s it. So you are now sworn to secrecy,” you said looking over at him. Cale nodded, and then turned back to the tv. After another hour the three of them left for their own rooms, leaving you and Nate alone. You turned the tv off and turned off all the lights beside one on the bedside table. Nate took his shirt off and climbed under the covers with you, the both of you on your sides facing each other. You ran your fingers gently over his swollen eye. “Do you want me to get you some ice for this, or anything?” you asked. Nate shook his head.

“No, I just want to lay here with you,” Nate grabbed your hand in his and kissed your knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, still feeling guilty over his fight, the team’s loss. Nate placed his arm over your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You were right, Ashley probably did figure it out. But I would fight anyone for you,” Nate said honestly, moving strands of hair out of your face.

“What did he say?” you asked. Nate shook his head again.

“He was being inappropriate to you. That’s why I took care of it,” he stated, and you didn’t ask any further questions. Nate was glad because he did not want to repeat the vulgar things Benn had said to him. He wishes he would have hit him a few more times just thinking about it. Nate was brought out of his thought by a soft giggle.

“You defended my honor?” you teased him. Nate chuckled and rolled his eyes at you. “My hero,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his. Nate returned your kiss, maneuvering himself so your back was flat on the bed with him hovering over you. The kiss became heated as Nate slipped one of his hands under your shirt.

“Any day,” he whispered before kissing your neck. After what became a heated make out session, you were laying with your back pressed into Nate’s chest, holding his hand that was slipped under your head as his other rested on your stomach, holding you close to him. And though you never wanted to be someone’s damsel in distress, with how protected you felt in Nate’s arms, he could defend you anytime.

Tags: @bqstqnbruin @avsfans95 @calesykar @comphybiscuit @andreiaafaria

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nathan mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon x reader #Cutting Edge

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spacelattesao3 · 3 months

Text

An Update

Hi friends! I hope everyone is doing well. I'd like to say thanks for all of the love and messages I've received over the last few months! I haven't been great at responding, but know that I've read every one of them and that they really keep me in high spirits about continuing my works.

I’ve gotten quite a few questions about whether or not my fics are currently on hiatus or not, and just wanted to clear things up and say that no, none of my fics are on hiatus. Most of these comments have been through my fics, so I've given my reasoning for my absence individually to readers. But, I realized that I should probably post something on my actual social account for others to see lol. Being that this is the only account that I have linked to anything fic related (I have no discord, instagram, twitter, etc), I figured the best thing to do is to put it here.

I've recently gone back to school for my graduates degree, and truthfully have just had a hard time trying to get back in the swing of things (haven't done the school thing since 2017/18). I had some trial and error of starting and then switching schools last year, but I think I'm finally on good ground balancing work and school. I'm starting to get a better rhythm now, and have some free time to write more. I have written a little here and there, but am currently trying to get back into the groove with writing so that I can give you guys an update!

That said, I'd like to provide you all with a tentative schedule for my upcoming posting plans:

Stitch Me Back Together chapter 29 is my highest priority right now. I honestly didn't even realize that I'd left this story sitting since last August, and I sincerely apologize for that!

Playing with Fire chapter 11 will follow

Caldera: The City of Ghosts chapter 19 will be updated last

I am hoping to have updates done no later than the end of April, early May by the latest. After that, I will be dedicating the month of May-early June (depending on meeting the first deadline) to updating Stitch Me as much as I can. July-August (depending) will be dedicated to Playing with Fire updates to hopefully finish it out. City of Ghosts will be updated in between these, as I don't want to leave it hanging. In the event that I don't meet these deadlines, the updates are still coming. Please just assume that I have either been caught up in work or school and wish me a nice long nap to recover 😅.

If you see a random oneshot between any of these fics being updated...no you didn't (But I do have one from November if you haven't gotten a chance to read it 👀). If you haven't read some of the fics listed and want to start, or you're interested in any other oneshots I've written, you can always visit my ao3 here 🫡.

I hope this answers some questions that some of you may have had. Thank you all for waiting patiently for me, as well as all of the nice and thoughtful messages I've received in the last few months!

#spacelattes #life update #about spacelattesao3 #stitch me back together update #playing with fire update #caldera city of ghosts update #zutara #avatar the last airbender #atla #ao3 writer #ao3 feed

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solarwindswriting · 3 years

Text

Oh, The Places You’ll Go

Chapter 6

First Chapter / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Loosely inspired by the song Greek Tragedy by the Wombats

Pairing: Scotty x FemalePresenting!Reader

Word Count: 1802

Summary: Y/n and Scotty get to know each other better over a late night cup of tea.

Warnings: none that I can think of

A/N: I mentioned it in a separate post, but something came up recently that has taken my will to write fluff like this right out of me. So sorry, but since this is the last prewritten part I have, I’m going to take a bit of a break. Thank you guys for understanding!

Tags: @mournthewicked @damalseer

Scotty had finished his prep for the away mission after his break with Y/n, Sara, and Keenser. That was the first time in about 10 years since he’s danced, let alone with someone else. It took him twice as long to finish preparing as he got lost in his thoughts. How Y/n’s hands held so tight to his, or how her hips swayed to the music, or how laughter fell from her lips like the song of fairies on the Scottish hillside. Scotty shook his head as he walked into the mess hall. Grabbing a tray, he looked around the room to see who was there. He saw Y/n sitting with a group of the younger crew, he’d hate to be the oldest one sitting there. He finally saw Spock and Bones eating at a table in the corner. On his way, he hears Y/n say something rather enthusiastically.

“Fine! Yes, I like Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott in an unprofessional way.” she laughs.

He makes eye contact with Sara who was facing him, Y/n soon turning to see him as well. Y/n jumps up and leaves before he can say anything. Sara follows her soon after stopping in front of him.

Sara’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, trying to find the right words. “If what I saw earlier is true, you need to tell her.”

His brow still stitched together, he sits with Bones and Spock.

“Oh, good. Someone who can settle this debate...” Bones starts.

Scotty mindlessly eats his food as the two commanders continue to debate about whether a certain civilization is ready for the first contact or not. He finishes his food about 30 minutes later, getting up to leave.

“Woah, Scotty, you’re not even going to add a story about your grandmother?” Bones asks.

“Ah, not tonight, gotta prepare for tomorrow,” he lies, leaving the mess hall without another word.

Scotty goes to deck 5 to go to bed. But before he realized it, he’s knocking on someone's door.

***

Y/n opens the door, shocked to see Scotty standing there, bright red cheeks and all.

“Um, can I help you?” Y/n squeaks out, pulling the robe tightly around her body.

“Ay, lassie, can I come in?” He asks with a slight cough coming up.

“It’s sort of late, shouldn’t you be in bed?” She starts. “We have a pretty big mission tomorrow, after all.”

“ I couldn’t help but overhear what you said in the mess hall and thought I ought to come to talk to you,” Scotty almost whispers, looking at the ground.

“No need. I know you don’t feel that same. I’m fine with leaving it at that. Have a goodnight, Lieutenant Commander.” Y/n steps back to close the door, when Scotty sticks out his foot, preventing it from doing so.

“Lassie, will you just listen for just a minute?” He looks at her in the eyes finally.

She steps to the side, lifting her arm, motioning for him to come in. He looks around her personal quarters. Shelves littered with nick nacks from all over the galaxy, and books with worn spines in languages he couldn’t recognize.

“Can I get you anything? Tea? A beer?” She asks, walking to her replicator.

“Tea sounds nice,” he mutters, looking around still.

On the wall hung four certificates; two bachelors in biology and physics, certification in the handling of hazardous material, and training for command of a ship. He walks up to the mall table with two chairs and takes a seat. On the table sat a bowl of fruit and a framed photo of younger-looking y/n, and Sara, an older woman that looks shockingly like Y/n except with completely black iris’, and a dog at what looks like a fair.

Y/n sets a mug in front of Scotty, and peers at the photo. Scotty notices how her hand shakes as she sets down the mug.

“That was from my first year in the academy, back when I thought I was going to be a captain of my very own starship,” Y/n hums to herself, shaking her head side to side softly, taking a seat across from Scotty. “So, go ahead, you have a minute.”

“You have a dog?” Scotty procrastinates the topic as long as he can.

“Yeah, he belongs to my mom. Full bred German Shepard. Why she insisted he be full-bred, I’ll never know. He’s the dumbest creature in all the galaxy though.” She pauses before continuing, “You’re deflecting.”

Scotty takes a deep breath and sips from his mug before starting. “Now, lassie, I’ve been doing this job a very long time. And I threw myself even deeper into it once I thought I’d never find someone to spend my spare time with. I even tried a few times, getting out there and doing the whole dating thing. With this line of work though, there were times when I simply couldn’t be there like I should have been and I hurt those I care deeply about. But I’ve got to be honest with ye, I canne stop thinking about you. And I truly thought myself selfish. You’re so much younger than me, you see. I assumed you’d never think the same of me, some old man who works in engineering. But then we started to have tea most evenings, and I let myself lean into getting to know you, which just made things worse for me.” Scotty chuckles, sipping from the mug, looking anywhere but Y/n.

Y/n noted how his words became thicker with his accent the longer we went on and how he said that all in seemingly one breath. She didn’t know how to respond, that was the last thing she had expected him to say. So she stayed silent, sipping from her mug, waiting to see if he had anything left to say.

“Wait, you were training to become a captain? Well, that explains the odd Starfleet insignia you wear.” Scotty chuckles looking at the woman he was pretending he didn’t just admit his feelings to.

Y/n looks at him confused, shaken by his sudden shift in demeanor and topic.

“I um, yes. But I don’t see how that pertains to what we’re talking about,” she looks at him, head tilting and eyebrows stitching together.

Y/n, quite frankly, didn’t know what to say. She just looks at him for a good long while.

“Should I go, lassie?” Scotty starts to stand up.

Y/n stands, letting go of her death grip on her robe, and grabs his hand.

“You’re much better with words than I am, Montgomery. And I think you think I’m much younger than I am,” her words come out rushed, almost as quickly as her heart is beating.

“How old are you?” Not until now does he realize he never found out her age.

“I’m 29,” she chuckles.

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed a day over 24,” Scotty speaks, almost shocked.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Y/n chuckles out before looking up at him with hope filled eyes. “Does that mean you’ll stay and finish your tea?”

Scotty smiles and sits back down, “I’ll stay as long as you’d like, Y/n.”

“I think that unwise, Lieutenant Commander. We do still have a mission to attend to tomorrow.” She chuckles out, sitting back down, herself.

Only now did Scotty notice her robe had fallen open to reveal a strawberry speckled nightie. Shifting slightly in his seat, he averts his gaze, sipping from his cup, and notices something interesting in the photo.

“Oh! I’m sorry, should I go change?” Y/n asks, slightly uncomfortably.

“No, no, it’s fine, lass.” He hums, reaching for the photo to take a closer look.

He squints at the ruby ring on Y/n’s left hand in the photo.

“Were you once married, Y/n?” Scotty asks inquiringly.

Y/n chokes on her tea, coughing to catch her breath. That’s not a question someone had asked her in a long time.

“Um, almost,” she coughs, still clearing out her throat.

“What happened?” He looks to his right, so he can make eye contact with her.

“She, um, wasn’t a very good person and I wasn’t doing great when I was with her. Took me almost getting married and dozens of people telling us we were too young to finally realize it though.” Y/n sighs, finishing her tea and placing the mug in the little sink.

“Ah, I see,” Scotty responds, setting the picture down. “Sorry, for asking.”

“No, it’s fine. I should expect people to ask when I have a photo of me wearing an engagement ring for everyone to see.” She says, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

Scotty stands up with his mug, walking to one of the shelves filled with books, and scans the spines. He likes to think of himself as a reader, but he never reads things in different languages. He barely knew other earth languages, not to mention any alien ones. Sure, he picked up a few phrases, but that was it. He notices how many series of books there were among the singles. He reaches for a thin book that was in English as he sips his tea. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin. He looks over his shoulder as Y/n, eyebrow raised. Y/n was now leaned up against the wall her bed was propped against, legs crossed, robe discarded, and blanket on her lap.

“Isn’t this book for young girls and hopeless romantics?” Scotty questions, sliding the book back into its place on the shelf.

“Until a few moments ago, you thought I was both,” she chuckles.

Scotty finished his tea, placing the mug into the sink like Y/n had done just a minute before.

“I should probably leave. We have a big day tomorrow lassie.” Scotty turns to Y/n.

Y/n stands and follows Scotty to the door. He turns around before opening the door and sees she didn’t put her robe back on. He willed himself to look at only her face. She leaned in, placing her hands on his shoulder, and kiss’ him on the cheek. Before she can pull away, he gently places his hand on her lower back, pulling her in for a kiss on the lips.

Time seems to stop for only a moment. The only thing in the galaxy that mattered to him was her in this moment. Y/n, with her soft lips, her silky nighty, and her soft grip on his shoulders. The moment ended just as quickly as it had started.

“Goodnight, lassie,” He smiles, still holding her close.

“Goodnight, Monty,” Y/n breaths out before stepping away from him.

I made a Spotify playlist to go along with the story since I use music a good bit. There will be music from unpublished chapters though. So listen at your own risk.

#scotty x reader #montgomery scott x reader #montgomery scott aos #montgomery scott imagine #star trek aos #solarwindswriting

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leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 29

Series Masterlist

Chapter 29

A/N: I am not a doctor and have no medical training (besides 13 seasons of Greys). Italics represent a flashback and some of your thoughts. This chapter is written from Fred’s POV.

Summary: The high you’re feeling from winning the second round comes to an abrupt end.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, mentions of car accident

Word Count: 7600

Fred’s POV

“Good game tonight Fred” Kyle the NBC sportscaster says. You run your hands through your hair damp with sweat having just gotten off the bike.

“Thanks, yeah the boys really came together and played a full 60 minutes and we pulled out the W” you answer. You grab your towel and wipe the sweat from your forehead “the boys did a good job at limiting their chances and keeping them away from the slot, kept my job pretty easy” you chuckle slightly.

“Yeah it was a good effort all around. You looking forward to a couple days off before the conference finals?” he asks you. The other matchup being Toronto and Tampa is tied after 4 games, they play game 5 tomorrow night, but the series will need at least 6 games to be decided.

“Yeah it will be good for us to have a few days without games. Be able to allow some of the boys to rest, I know some of them got a little banged up this series” you explain shifting around on your feet, hoping to wrap this up to jump in the shower to get home to (Y/N). Tonight is the first day she has been willing to talk and you don’t want to miss any time with her. You bring your water bottle up to your lips taking a sip of Gatorade while the interview continues.

“What did you think of the power play? Sidney alluded to some issues and needing some work if you want to be successful in the conference finals.”

“Yeah well I think you guys have mentioned it a lot in interviews and post game coverage. We know there is some work needed in that aspect of the game. So we can use the next few days to refocus and figure out how to generate some momentum from that. Both Toronto and Tampa have a very good P.K. so we need to have success on our power play to advance to the finals.”

“Well thank you and good luck Freddie” Kyle says.

“Thank you” you respond smiling.

Him and the other sportscasters turn their attention to the coach and you finally head into the showers. You look at the clock and see it’s about 45 minutes after the game. Wanting to get home quickly you decide to have a quick shower at the rink, and have a full one later. You can’t wait to cuddle up beside (Y/N) for the first time in weeks, feel your boys kick while you breathe in her fruity conditioner. While you know there is some difficult conversations still to be had, you just want to wrap yourself around her for a few hours first.

After a quick shower you throw your game day suit back on. It’s your navy three piece suit with a light grey vest, it’s (Y/N)’s favourite and you like to think it brought you good luck tonight. You leave the top button of your white dress shirt undone, reaching for your tie.

A few hours ago you were in the bathroom finishing getting ready when Oliver came running in with a present for you. It was something he and (Y/N) saw online and ordered a couple weeks ago and it just came in. He had the biggest smile on his face, carrying the box with a simple grey bow.

(Y/N) was leaning on the doorway watching the exchange with a small grin on her face, you could see it reflecting back to you on the mirror. Her hair was in gentle waves, no makeup on her face. She had on a pair of track pants with a black tee that was a little too small, the bottom of her bump exposed. All you wanted was to kiss her, but you didn’t want to push her limits; even if she did give you a soft kiss a few hours ago.

You opened the box and revealed a black silk tie with Toy Story characters in various poses stitched into it.

“It’s lightyear and woody!” your son cheers smiling and you chuckle lightly, this being one of his favourite movies.

“Wow, thanks Ollie this is great” you say running your fingers on the fabric.

“I was actually looking at ties for him for the wedding this summer, when he saw this one and he loved it. I asked if he wanted it, and he said daddy would” (Y/N) explains walking over to the vanity resting against the counter a few inches from you.

“Well you’re right” you say smiling at Oliver “I love it buddy!”

“Wear it daddy” Oliver exclaims.

“You think I should wear it to the game tonight?” you ask him.

He nods his head with a huge smile “yeah!” you can feel the excitement radiating off of him.

You look at (Y/N) who raises an eyebrow at you with a light chuckle. You don’t exactly have a reputation for wild or colourful suits, leaving that style to the younger boys. You set the box down and turn back to the mirror, you begin to loosen the navy blue one you normally pair this look with. (Y/N) walks forward a few steps and picks up the tie, removing it from the packaging and putting the fabric around your neck.

She begins to effortlessly tie your tie for you, she smiles at you her face a few inches from yours. You smell her conditioner, and don’t break eye contact with her while she tucks the tie in your vest. You see the faint freckles on her nose, the pinkness to her cheeks and take a gulp having missed her touch more than you even noticed. She has a slight smile on her face while she adjusts your collar and smooths the fabric making it straight and stepping back “what do you think Ollie?”

“It’s perfect” he exclaims jumping into your arms. “Good luck daddy” he says wrapping his arms around your neck. You holds his tiny body against your chest, his legs dangling while you kiss his cheek.

“Thanks bud, I’m going to have so many saves because of my new tie” you say setting him down. He brings a hand up, giving you your pre-game fist bump before leaving the bathroom.

You turn your attention to (Y/N) who steps in front of you, she places her arms on your biceps and leans in close to your ear. Goosebumps build feeling her breath on your neck “good luck Fred” she whispers and you shiver, feeling her words sending a tingle to your spine.

She pulls her face back, now looking up into your eyes, without thinking you bring your lips down to hers and your hands down to her hips. She steps into your embrace, wrapping her arms around your neck opening her mouth to allow you entrance. Her hands tangle into your hair, and you are tempted to slide your hands down to give her ass a light squeeze but you don’t want to push your luck. You settle with your hands resting on the small of her back.

Your tongues fight for dominance, a soft moan slipping from her lips has you almost gets you hard. She finally pulls back smiling while you take a gasp of air. She places another soft kiss on your lips before stepping back to the counter with a smirk.

“Thanks (Y/N)” you say wiping the side of your mouth.

“Talk to you later tonight” she says while you lean in to place a kiss on her cheek. She grips your arms and pulls away “you’re going to be late” she says softly causing you to groan before turning around and heading out for the game.

You smile running the smooth fabric through your fingers remembering the exchange from earlier that day. You loosely wrap it around your neck, not bothering to tuck it into the vest. You know there are some extremely difficult conversations to come tonight and over the next few days, but you are extremely grateful (Y/N) is willing to talk. Her showing up at the game shows how lucky you are to have this amazing woman. She could have just asked Kathy or Christina to bring him, but her coming gives you hope for how the next few days will go.

After gathering your belongings from your stall you open the dressing room door with your cell phone in your hand. Assuming (Y/N) left after the game you unlock your phone expecting to see a “congrats” text from her, but your screen display is empty.

“Daddy” you hear a voice identical to Oliver’s call out. You look up, gazing the room for the child and see your son in his Andersen jersey and red curls running towards you.

“Hey Oliver” you say bending down to hug him. His arms wrap around your neck while you stand up holding him against you. “What are you doing here?” you ask scanning the area for (Y/N) surprised she would wait with how she has been feeling.

“You were so good daddy!” he squeals ignoring you. “Maybe you will play Uncle Auston and Uncle Mitch!”

You laugh lightly making your way through the crowded hallway, you begin to head to the lounge assuming she found a comfortable spot to wait for you.

“Hey Fred” you hear a voice call from beside you, you turn to your left to see Kathy. “(Y/N) wasn’t feeling the best so she left after the first period.” She pulls out a set of car keys and hands them to you.

“She took the car home? She must have been super uncomfortable to get in that thing” you laugh. “Thanks, how was this guy?” you ask shifting him on your hip. You look at your son and see his eyes getting heavy causing a light smile to cross your face. Oliver rests his head on your shoulder as Kathy responds “he was great. He was very into the game, his eyes were glued to the ice the entire time. He also ate a lot of popcorn” she further explains. You laugh lightly at that and kiss his forehead “but he was great. Never stopped smiling”

“That’s awesome, thanks again Kathy. He has been laying the guilt on (Y/N) for not going to games, I’m sure he was thrilled to get to stay.” You wrap your free arm around her giving her a side hug “well I’m happy to bring him with me anytime.”

“You say thank you to Kathy for keeping an eye on your tonight?” you ask Oliver.

“Thank you Kathy” your soon coos on your shoulder.

“Anytime Ollie” she smiles “have a good night Fred” she says smiling and turning down the hall to find Sid. You head to the car Oliver resting his head on your shoulder, you hear his soft breathing thinking he has fallen asleep against you. You buckle Oliver into his car seat and pull away looking at him, you see his brown eyes are open, very heavy but open.

“Hey bud” you say wiping his hair from his face “you tired?” you ask him. He still has a big smile glued to his face, even if his eyes are struggling to stay open.

“No daddy” he mumbles shaking his head. You place a quick kiss on his cheek and get into the driver’s seat, you adjust all the settings and get comfortable. You start the short drive home, knowing traffic will be light at this late hour.

“You have fun tonight?” you ask Oliver driving down the street slowly, avoiding the fans who are celebrating on the street. You see brake lights ahead, which is unusual for this time of day, but sigh slowing the car.

“Yeah daddy, so much fun!” he cheers from the back seat as you stop. You look in the review mirror and see him looking out the window at the surroundings.

“Well make sure you thank mommy for taking you” you say smiling.

“I will daddy” he says, you see him smile before you turn your attention back to the road. There is 3 streetlights before you get on the onramp, and the lights ahead of you have switched from red to green a few times, yet you haven’t moved. You want to turn the radio on for an update on traffic, but you also don’t want it to keep Oliver awake. You shift slightly in your seat as you pull up a few car lengths, approaching the first intersection.

“Daddy why aren’t we moving?” you hear him mumble from the backseat.

You look into the review, and his eyes are barely awake while his head nods on and off. You chuckle and decide to not answer, knowing he is seconds away from passing out. You tap your finger on the steering wheel and begin to advance closer to the first light.

You see a police officer in the middle of the intersection directing cars to turn at the intersection, likely because of an accident; a bad one if they are diverting traffic away from the area. You groan, knowing your quick drive will be longer but follow the flow of traffic around the corner.

About 15 minutes later you are finally back on track, merging onto the freeway. You scan the review mirror and see Oliver fast asleep, his head leaning back and mouth wide open. The only good thing about the delay getting home is that Oliver will be fast asleep when you get home, and there is no chance of you waking him up putting him in bed.

The rest of your drive is smooth and you finally pull up and open your gate. While making your way slowly up your driveway, you take in the scenery that is illuminated by the full moon while the garage gradually opens. When it finally opens you notice the BMW isn’t parked in there. You stop and look around the driveway trying to see if (Y/N) parked outside and you didn’t notice it but don’t see anything.

You put the SUV in park you check your phone and don’t see any missed calls or texts from (Y/N).

F: Hey babe, just got home and you’re not here. You okay?

You carefully scoop Oliver up from his car seat, resting his head on your shoulder making your way to his room. I’m sure she just went to her grandparents, it’s closer to the arena you think setting Oliver down on his bed. You gently strip the jersey off, and pull his shoes off his feet; you decide to leave him in his pants and t-shirt he was wearing underneath in order to not wake him.

“Goodnight Ollie” you whisper placing a kiss on his forehead gently pulling his Penguins comforter up to his chin tucking him in. “Love you” you say pulling the door, but leaving it open a crack to allow in a little light from the hall.

You pull your phone out and see no new notifications, you click back on your conversation and the message hasn’t been delivered yet. You scowl lightly knowing every car has a charger in it, so her phone isn’t dead. You walk down the hall to the bedroom, sitting on the bed wrinkling the duvet slightly pulling your tie off your neck and tossing it beside you.

F: If you’re still mad at me babe I understand. If you regret earlier or aren’t ready to forgive me I get it.

You sigh hoping that isn’t the case, if she did regret kissing me would she have come to the game? You stare at the conversation seeing the second message still hasn’t delivered. You lock the phone and stand up tearing the rest of your suit off. Normally you would carefully place them on the hanger and back in the closet, but tonight you just throw them onto your crinkled sheets.

You know they will wrinkle, just as the duvet under them but you don’t care. You know you should hang it up, put it away so it isn’t strewn across the bed when (Y/N) gets home but with every second (Y/N) doesn’t pull into the driveway or answer her phone you start to think she won’t come home. You run your hands through your hair, letting out an exasperated sigh you walk to the shower turning it on. You lean against the counter and unlock your phone once more, calling her this time. After one ring you hear:

“Hey you’ve reached (Y/N) sorry I missed you” you mumble a fuck under your breath and hang up not bothering to listen to the remainder of her voicemail. You scroll through your contacts and hit the call button, after a few rings you hear Debbie, (Y/N)’s grandmother, answer the phone.

“Hello” she mumbles into the phone barely awake.

“Hi Debbie, I’m sorry to call so late” you say into the phone while she clears her throat. You hear a bit of a commotion on the other end of the phone, and can hear John mumbling about someone calling at this hour.

“It’s Frederik dear” she says away from the mouth piece, you can hear John muttering in the background. “Is everything okay?” she asks turning her attention to you.

“Is (Y/N) there?” you ask.

“John, is (Y/N) here?” she asks him. “He’s gone to check, what’s going on?”

“(Y/N) came to my game but left after the first period, but she isn’t home. I thought maybe she decided to crash at your place instead of doing the drive home” you explain.

“I see” she says and silence falls over the line. “John says she isn’t here” she says and you feel your heart drop as panic sets in. You take a gulp and run your hands through your hair, leaning backwards feeling your back hit the mirror.

“Okay thanks” you manage to croak.

“I’m sure she is fine dear” she tried to reassure you, but you don’t think she even believes it knowing this in unusual for (Y/N). And you have a pit in the bottom of your stomach that says otherwise.

“Yeah…thanks. I’ll let you know when I hear from her” you explain hanging up the phone. You walk over to the shower and feel the steam hit your face, you reach in and turn it off trying to think who else might know where she is, who you could call. It’s unlikely she called her friends from home about where she went, and the women all saw her leave after the first period. If Kathy knew something she would have told me after the game. And if she hadn’t heard from her by the end of the game none of the other women would have. And no matter what she would have called me, even when she wouldn’t talk to me she was delayed at her hair appointment and still text me so I wouldn’t worry. No matter how she is feeling towards me she wouldn’t just take off.

You slowly walk into the closet and pull out a pair of track pants and a t-shirt from your drawer. You pull them on and unlock your phone once again.

F: I just want to make sure you’re okay. Please answer me

F: I love you xox

As you hit the send button you sigh again seeing your messages still aren’t being delivered. You are pulled from your trance by your main gate buzzer going off. You run to the speaker in the bedroom and press the button.

“Hello (Y/N/N)” you practically yell into the speaker, not even realizing that she wouldn’t need to be buzzed in.

“No sorry, this is Officer Black from Pittsburgh P.D. Is this the address of (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)?” the unfamiliar voice asks back. You take a few deep breaths, releasing the buzzer and hitting the open button. Your heart rate begins to pick up, the pit in your stomach grows while you almost fall down the stairs running to the front door.

Your hands shake as you reach out for the door handle. You see the police cruiser parked through the frosted glass, and two figures approach the door. You grip the handle, maybe that second figure is (Y/N) you think. Disappointment and fear fill your body when you open the door to see two officers approaching you, no sign of (Y/N).

“Hi I’m Fred, I’m (Y/N)’s boyfriend” you say as they approach the door. “Where is she, is she okay?”

“I’m Officer Black, this is Officer Taylor. Can we come in?” one officer asks.

“Where is she?” you ask feeling your voice crack.

“She is in the hospital but is okay” the second officer says to you “she was in a car accident at Logan and Wylie.”

That was the accident I was diverted around on my way home. You go numb while the officers wait for you to respond. You take a gulp and brace yourself against the door frame, your heart beats out of your chest.

“Maybe you should sit down” one of them says gently guiding you into the office. You lean against the arm of one of the red chairs (Y/N) bought. While this room is rarely used, you still notice the details she put into it. There is a large canvas pictures of the 3 of you above the fireplace, and pictures of your families framed on the desk. She spent hours finding the pillows for the window bench that matched the chairs perfectly. The bookshelves are filled with all the books from her childhood that were previously in storage, multiple candles are scattered around the room.

All these minor details that she spent hours planning, make this house a home. Normally you would feel close to (Y/N), sense her in the space but in this moment you have never felt further from her. Tears are building in your eyes, you look at the officers through blurred eyes “you said she’s at a hospital?” you whisper.

“UPMC Presbyterian” they respond.

“The babies? She is pregnant” you say wiping the side of your eyes sitting upright.

“We don’t have any more of an update just that she is in critical condition and they are working on her” he says to you. “Do you need a ride there?”

“No I can get myself there, just have to get my son” you whisper lightly and stand up. The officers leave your house while you head upstairs pulling out your phone to call Debbie back. You tell her about the accident and she says John will meet you at the hospital and take Oliver back to their house. You hang up and open the door to his room, the light slowly approaching the bed.

You see your son lying on his stomach, blue tucked tightly under his arm. You freeze in your tracks seeing your son, your first son with (Y/N) and immediately break down praying everyone is okay. You fall to your feet and sob thinking of the worst case scenario, losing (Y/N) and the twins, having to raise Oliver alone without a mother.

No I can’t think that way, she will be fine. I just have to get to the hospital. (Y/N) is fine, she is fine. Y/N is fine.

You keep repeating that to yourself, trying to make yourself believe it. Finally after a few deep breaths you find the strength to stand up wiping the tears from your eyes. You shake your head and spot the bag (Y/N) packed beside his door.

You planned on Oliver going to John and Debbie’s when she went into labour. Since Dr. Morris put her on steroids she packed two bags weeks ago. One bag full of items for the two of you and the twins and the second is Oliver’s bag to take to their house with some clothes and books; knowing they have lots of toys there. You walk over to Oliver and sit on his bed, pulling his body against your chest. You kiss his head, your hands stroking through his hair. You need to get to the hospital, you need to check on (Y/N) and the twins, but in this moment you need this.

You gently rock him side to side, his small body resting in your arms causes you to relax slightly. You hear him mumble and stir slightly in his sleep as you gently set him back down. You walk over to his duffle bag and throw it over your shoulder and carefully grab him and blue.

The drive to the hospital is a blur, you are almost sure you shouldn’t be driving in your state. You park in the parking lot staring down the building; the building that can change your future. You didn’t expect to be here for a few more weeks, not until the day (Y/N) gave birth.

You get out and walk to the backseat of your car, unbuckling Oliver and grabbing his bag, when you realize John won’t have a car seat. You gently set Oliver down on the spare seat reaching over him to remove the car seat. You feel a hand touch your back and you jump up, hitting your head on the ceiling of your car.

“Fuck” you mumble under your breath, rubbing your hat over your scalp while stepping out of the vehicle. You see John and practically fall into his arms, letting out a sob while he wraps himself around you.

”Sorry” he whispers. You aren’t sure if he means for scaring you or about the current situation. Your body shakes while he holds you against him for a few minutes. You are brought back when you hear him calling your name.

You pull away and see his bloodshot eyes, glossed over with tears. “Hey John, how are you doing?” you ask him wiping your tears away.

“Alright, been better. Same as you I’m sure” he says looking behind you to the building. You only nod in response, realizing the last time he was rushing to a hospital in the middle of the night was when his son and daughter-in-law died.

“Did the police give you any information?” he asks turning his gaze back to yours.

“No they didn’t have any at the house and I just parked a minute ago” you explain.

“You should get inside” John whispers trying for his voice to not crack “I can get the car seat Fred.”

You nod and hug him once more “I’ll keep you updated” you say. You pull away and place a kiss on Oliver’s cheek before running into the hospital’s emergency room.

“Hey” you say running up the admittance nurse “hello I’m Frederik –“

“Hi Frederik, you need to sit down there are people ahead of you waiting to see me” the nurse tells you looking down at the computer in front of him. You look behind you and see 3 people sitting on chairs and turn back to the nurse “you don’t understand I’m not here for a doctor. My girlfriend was in an accident and brought here, I don’t know where she is” you spew out at the nurse.

The man stops typing and looks up you “what’s her name?” he asks.

“(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)” you say to the nurse who enters the info into the system.

“Follow the blue line to the elevator, take that to the 3rd floor, follow the blue line to room 307 she is in there” he says to you.

“Thank you” you say tapping your hand on the desk and taking off down the hall. Once in the elevator you look at the index for the floors, surgery is 7th, labour and delivery in on the 5th so that has to be good she isn’t in either. Floor 3 has trauma rooms, the ICU and imagery .

The door dings to the 3rd floor and you sprint down the hall ignoring the calls from staff to stop running. When you find 307 you practically throw the door open, it crashes into the wall causing some of the staff to turn their attention towards you.

“Sir you can’t be in here” you hear a nurse say to you, but you ignore her and walk in. You hear the scattered beeping of machines, when you see one of her hands limply hanging off the bed. You bring a hand up to your mouth gasping at what you see.

You see the bracelet wrapped around her wrist; the bracelet you bought her in the beginning of the season. It was during your first long road trip. Oliver was giving her a hard time, he was struggling with you being gone and there was nothing you could do to help besides leaving and going back to Pittsburgh, which wasn’t an option.

While walking through the warm streets of L.A, you passed by a jewelry store and it immediately caught your eye in the window. You thought of her and walked inside and bought it without even looking at anything else. Through everything she never took it off. The once beautiful white gold bracelet, is now stained red with her blood.

She has monitors hooked up all over her, you can see her hair is wet with blood, blood stains her clothes that have been cut off her and are lying on the floor. The jacket she finally wore to a playoff game, the black denim jacket with your name embroidered in the back, the jacket she was so excited to get when you clinched is in pieces never to be worn again. You can see that a pool of blood has collected between her legs as you sniffle stepping forward to her. She looks cold, a shell of the woman she once was as you see the ultrasound machine being set up.

You feel a hand grip your arm firmer than before “sir you can’t be in here” you hear a voice say and you try to brush it off, trying to get closer to (Y/N).

“She’s my...that’s my” you struggle to form words looking over her body, you watch as someone squeezes some jelly onto her stomach “those are my babies. Are my babies okay?” your hands run through your hair watching the scene unfold around you.

“Yes, we have the fetal heartbeats on that monitor there” they say nodding to one of the machines “a little erratic but right now holding steady. She has some abdominal bleeding we are monitoring right now” the person with the wand says to you as the woman beside you attempts to guide you into the hall.

“You have to leave sir” she says more firmly.

“Please” you croak out “I need to know” you say and the doctor sighs and nods to the nurse beside you. He places the wand over her stomach adjusting it to find the babies, you swallow even though your throat is dry. The heartbeat fills the room and you see one of the babies faces on the screen causing you to chuckle and wipe your eyes. You are so relieved hearing the heartbeat of one of your sons. The doctor moves the wand some more finding the second baby and you just stare at the monitor, hearing their tiny hearts beating gives you back some hope and optimism.

“Sir we’re going to take care of your wife, that’s our job” you hear someone say to you. “But you have to let us do our job, so please let us do our job.”

“Okay” you whisper and nod while two nurses help guide you out of the room and shut the door behind you. You step off to the side and slide down the wall, ignoring the nearby seats. You land on your ass, bending your knees. Your rest your elbows on your knees and your head falls into your hands. You take a deep breath, you didn’t realize how much you had been holding in trying to process everything. You have been taking advantage of her always being there and now she might not be anymore.

You don’t know how long you sit on the floor for, could be minutes could be hours when the door opens and a bunch of the staff leave. You don’t think you can move from this spot yet somehow rise to your feet, when the last nurse stops in front of you.

“She’s doing okay for now, the doctors are ready to talk to you when you’re ready” she gently squeezes your arm and walks away carrying some of the supplies.

You take a deep breath and walk into the room even though your feet feel anchored to the ground. “Hi I’m Fred” you say walking in to the room.

“Hi I’m Dr. Lang a pediatric surgeon and this is Dr. Cooper a trauma surgeon”

“How is she?”

“Your wife is stable, but she has a cracked ribs and some internal bleeding. She sustained a pretty serious gash to her head, but we don’t see any bleeding or swelling in her brain, likely has a concussion. She sprained her left wrist but otherwise just bumps and bruises” the female doctor explains to you.

“Your babies are holding steady, it’s been a little touch and go but they are both stable right now” you hear the other doctor explain. “She had some uterine bleeding caused during the accident which appears to have stopped on its own for now but we will keep monitoring it.”

“You said she has internal bleeding?”

“We are monitoring the internal bleeding, if it corrects itself then the babies can stay in, hopefully for a few more weeks” Dr. Cooper explains. “But if it doesn’t stop she’ll need surgery.”

“And the babies? What then?” you ask.

“We would likely have to do an emergency C-section at that point. We got the file from her OB and they have given her prenatal steroids, with that and their weights we are optimistic they would be okay with an early delivery. We also have her on some more drugs to try and encourage their growth, any time we can get is important.”

The doctors talk to you for a little while longer before leaving you alone in the room with (Y/N). Her body looks so small lying in the room, you feel a ball catch in your throat while you pull a chair up beside her bed, gripping her frail cold hand.

“Oh my god (Y/N)” you whisper “I can’t believe this happened to you.”

You bring her hand to your lips, kissing it around the tape holding the IV in place. You hold her hand to your lips, tears fill your eyes as you sit there listening to the beeping. You can barely look at her, the once vibrant woman full of life, now unconscious machines connected, lines everywhere.

After sending some update messages to her grandparents you adjust in the chair. You try to get comfortable knowing you are in for a long night, you close your eyes attempting to sleep. Between the nurses checking on her, the beeping and the uncomfortable chair you are barely able to sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time.

Around 7am you feel (Y/N)’s hand twitch and the monitors begin beeping erratically. You squeeze her hand calling out for her as she squirms in the bed.

“(Y/N)” you call out as nurses flood the room pushing you out of the way. The two doctor’s rush in the room, as your chest tightens. “No please” you cry out feeling your eyes glaze with tears “(Y/N). The nurses continue to try to usher you out of the room while you keep calling her name. The door is slammed in your face and you can hear scattered conversations and rushed actions from inside the room.

You pace in the hallway, adjusting your hat. What is going on in there?

You pace around finally sitting in the chair in the hallway you can hear the controlled chaos from inside the room; all you want is to open the door and see (Y/N). You hear your phone ring, you shake the tears from your eyes and see Debbie’s name on the screen. You bring the phone to your ear “hey Debbie” you say choking on your tears.

“How is Oliver doing?” you ask after a couple minutes of updating her on (Y/N)’s status.

“He is okay, just finished breakfast. He was a little confused why he woke up here and where you guys were. He wanted to talk to you” she says. You know that you need more than just his voice, so you switch the call to FaceTime.

“Hi daddy” he says, his face lights up seeing you.

“Hey buddy” you chuckle wiping your eye, his face helping to repair your heart.

“Where are you?” he asks getting really close to the screen and you can only see his mouth; Facetime and cameras not being his strong suit. Both you and (Y/N) have countless “selfies” he has taken of himself which is just a close up of his eyes and nose.

You sigh for a second and take a deep breath, adjusting your hat on your head “I’m uh…I’m at the hospital with mommy. Mommy got hurt but the doctors are taking good care of her” you explain to him.

“Mommy got hurt?” he asks, you can hear his voice break a little bit.

“Yeah but she is okay buddy” you say into the phone. You want to reassure him but you don’t know how much of it you believe right now.

“Can I see her?” he asks pulling back and you can see more of his face on the screen.

“Not right now” you say and you see his face fall a bit “she is sleeping. But she would love it if you drew her some pictures.”

“Okay daddy” he says and the door opens while the staff begins to exit the room.

“I got to go see mommy, I love you” you say wiping the few remaining tears from your eyes.

“Love you daddy” your son says before you disconnect the call.

You walk into the room and see Dr. Cooper checking some of the monitors. “She is okay, her blood pressure is rising and she is still bleeding but okay for now. The babies are becoming too stressed, if their heart rates don’t drop we’ll have to deliver them. We’ve been giving them medication since she was admitted to try and lower them but so far it’s not working. Some studies say hearing the dad’s voice can help” she says shooting you a soft smile and walking out of the room.

You walk back to the chair and sit down gripping her hand, and your other slides to her stomach. You lightly place it on her belly, around the monitors.

“Hey boys” you whisper stroking them slightly. “I know you want to come out, but it would be better if you didn’t. I need you to stay put inside your mommy a little while longer. God I can’t believe we’re here right now, never thought this would happen” you feel tears begin to fall and release her hand to wipe them away.

“You know (Y/N) people keep calling you my wife” you chuckle shifting to look at her. A big bandage is in her hair, her face is partially swollen, lower lip cracked, but the woman you love is there, underneath all that. You rub your hand over her stomach, a strangled chuckle leaving your throat “and god I don’t know why you’re not. I said I wanted to wait and you said you were fine with having more kids first, but that just seems ridiculous now. Why would I wait when I have the most amazing woman in my life. You should be my wife, but god I don’t deserve you. You are way too good to me, and if the past few weeks have shown anything it’s that I need to be better. I need to be better for you, for Ollie, for these two” tears are streaming down your cheeks, eyes completely blurred while your hand rubs (Y/N)’s stomach gently. “Make it through this and I will spend every day trying to be the man you deserve.”

You stand up and press your lips to her forehead “please be okay (Y/N), please be okay so I can make you my wife and get you that puppy you haven’t stopped talking about. I’ll get you 5 dogs if it means you’ll be okay.” You feel one of the babies kick causing you to laugh through your tears “he seems excited for 5 dogs.”

A few hours later you are on a conference call with the coach and GM, you sent them a text explaining your absence from practice. There is up to a week before the conference finals begin, but they are preparing for Jarry to start those, you can’t see yourself being back for that. You look out the window, watching the rain stream down the glass, lightning illuminates the sky. Normally the sun would be preparing to set over the city, but a large storm rolled through making your worst day even more miserable.

You hold a cup of crappy hospital coffee in your hand while they prepare the press release on your absence. In this moment though you don’t care about the quality of coffee, any source of caffeine is appreciated. The hospital brought you a cot to sleep on, but you couldn’t leave her side, opting to hunch awkwardly in the chair and you can’t see yourself sleeping in the cot tonight.

Apart from sleep deprivation your back and neck are sore, but that pain is nothing compared to the emotional roller coaster you have been going through. There was multiple instances where (Y/N)’s blood pressure or the babies would get erratic and you have been ushered out of the room. The doctors say she still has some internal bleeding which is causing the babies levels to increase, which causes (Y/N)’s to rise. They don’t think it can continue like this for much longer before they have to deliver the babies and address the bleeding.

The team says you can come out with the goalie coach for private sessions any time if you’re feeling up to it. But you can barely handle leaving (Y/N) to get a coffee, let alone a few hours to get out on the ice; and in this moment you have no desire to play. The one constant in your life, the thing that has calmed you, always been there for you and now you can’t imagine ever doing it again.

“I got to go” you say quickly hanging up the phone and rushing across the room. (Y/N) eyes flutter open and her heart rate monitor begins to beep faster as she gasps for air.

“Hey (Y/N)” you say so excited to finally see her eyes open again. You grip her hand and run your other up her arm. Her eyes struggle to stay open while you squeeze her hand “you’re okay skat” you say softly trying to reassure her.

Her heart is racing while she squirms in the bed “Fred” she mumbles opening her eyes again. Tears pour down your face, you didn’t think you would hear her beautiful voice again.

“(Y/N) you need to lie down, you can’t move” you hear a nurse say walking into the room as the beeping continues to increase, (Y/N) gasping for air. The nurse presses a button and you hear feet running into the floor while you are pushed out of the way, body going numb while you watch them inject something into her arm.

She begins to relax her body and falls back into the mattress, eyes closing in the process. You didn’t even notice she was bleeding until a nurse lifts the blanket and reveals a small pool between her legs. “Oh my god” you whisper as Dr. Lang comes running past you.

You watch the scene unfold, stumbling backward into the wall. You put an arm on it, bracing yourself trying to catch your breath. The voices and sounds are barely audible, all you can hear is the hustle and eagerness of the staff. You watch them pull her arm railings up and begin to wheel her out of the room.

You feel a hand touch your arm, and you turn your head to the left and see Dr. Lang. He is talking to you, but you can’t focus on the words having watched your entire world leave. You feel as though you are outside your body, watching everything unfold around you.

“Fred” he calls touching your arm again, his touch returns you to the surface.

You blink through your tears and wipe them away. “Fred did you hear me?” he asks as your eyes focus on his face.

“What?” you whisper, bringing the back of your palm up to wipe away the tears.

“The bleeding isn’t correcting itself, (Y/N) needs surgery now. I’m going to do an emergency C-section and then we’ll take them to the NICU to monitor them. After the C-Section Dr. Cooper and Dr. Muzek a general surgeon will operate on (Y/N). We need you to consent to the surgeries” he explains pushing a clipboard in front of you.

“Yeah of course” you say grabbing it and signing the form.

“She is in good hands, we’ll keep you updated on the progress” he says giving your arm a light squeeze before taking off down the hall toward the elevator.

Next Chapter

#frederik andersen #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen smut #Freddie Andersen #freddie andersen smut #freddie andersen x reader #freddie andersen fic #fred andersen #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #Fred Andersen Fic #nhl fic #nhl smut #because two people got drunk #my writing

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secret-time-is-here · 3 years

Text

Double stitched - Rewrite

Chapter 29

Previous - First - Next

“You’re an undeniable nincompoop, Glitch.” Was the first thing he heard when he woke up. His eyes drifted open, and the ever subtle windows startup played quietly. Looking around for the voice, he found Dream sitting by his bedside. “You’re in the infirmary, Blue has already been escorted to a cell befitting him and I’ve doubled security.”

Glitch sighed, letting his body sink back into the cot, “Not going to hassle to justify yourself?”

“BluE’s an asshOlE.” Was it really necessary to explain himself?

“Nevertheless, during all my years of dealing with his annoyance, he’s been adamant that he's against violence and confirmed it time and time again.”

“WEll, hE acts likE hE dOEsn’t havE a hEaRt sO I pullEd at his stRings a littlE fOR payback, what’s thE big dEal?” He was probably on death row anyway, if he died he died. If he didn’t he didn’t.

“The, as you so simply stated, ‘big deal’ is that it took four security guards holding him down and my aura to calm him!” Dream snapped, wings ruffling before he sat back in the chair again, “Previously all it took to get rid of him was bringing him to his senses. The string of that barely staying together yarn ball you plucked at has unpacked what scarce consciousness he had left.”

Glitch just turned his head away, staring out the window. “Whatever f-” Dream breathed in deeply, “Whatever paradox you gave him he clearly found a solution to it. He’s a ticking time bomb, passing in his cell mindlessly.”

“SOunds likE ya caRE fOR ‘im.” The skeleton continued to seemingly stare out the window, a small portal opened up beside him, blocked by his head. Sneakily checking in on Strings and his friends.

“...Enemy or not I have the betterment of everyone in mind. At the moment, Blue is on the brink of, or already has reached insanity… what did you even do to him?”

“MadE him REalizE hE always says OnE thing and dOEs anOthER.” Glitch flicked through the AU and the surrounding ones, checking to see if JR was anywhere near.

“...You made him realize his own cognitive dissonance and made him find a way to improve it, surely?” Dream’s voice was one of surprise, either at the willingness of manipulation or whatever cognitive dissonance was, Glitch was unsure.

“YOu’RE spEaking gibbERish.” He scrolled back to JR, searching through until he found the cell Blue was in, a wing he was unaware of until now.

Just as Dream had said, he was mindlessly passing, mumbling something. A straight jacket keeping him from doing much, scratch marks along the walls and on the door. His legs wobbled, his steps were shaky. Blue’s legs fell from under him, and he rolled onto his side and sat back up, pushing himself against a wall, still mumbling to himself.

It reminded Glitch far too much of being in the AntiVoid.

“Cognitive dissonance, essentially holding two different mindsets causing tension. Blue acts like he has no compassion nor heart, yet he is averse to violence because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, something someone with compassion would think.” The destroyer rolled his eyes, “You made him informed of his cognitive dissonance, and in summary, there were two paths to take: Accept that he’s caused mental violence to many and does have compassion, or turn to violence. The latter either much more appealing or easier for him.”

“I think yOu’RE lOOking faR tOO intO this biRdman.”

“I’m making sense of the situation so I can correct your blunder.” The skeleton just shook his head, closing the window and looking back at Dream.

“What happEnEd tO him?”

“We put him in a padded cell for his safety, magic cuffs attached along with his ankles and wrists. Yet, somehow he succeeded to get them off- we’re still unsure how, and summon a weapon to start attacking the door and striking at the walls. As much as I didn’t want to, the only way to keep him and everyone else safe would be to keep him pacified with my aura, drugs, or put him in a jacket.”

Dream looked away, remorseful and silent for a moment, before looking back. “...Blue aside, I require more information from you.”

“StaRs, yOu’vE alREady tRiEd OncE, I’m nOt giving yOu anything.”

“You still resist believing that I aim for peace?”

“EvEn my DREam, whO actEd mORE likE a child than thE… was it FivE hundREd? WhO actEd likE a child instEad Of thE fivE-hundREd-yEaR-Old hE is, undERstOOd that pEacE is basically impOssiblE tO REach and nEvER lasts.”

“I intend to do whatever I can to at least soothe the tensions between JR and Nightmare as well as his friends.” Glitch let out a loud fake laugh at the statement, “I’m serious about this Glitch.”

“And I was sERiOus abOut wORking at JR,” The sarcasm rolled off his tongues easily, “yOu’RE nOt fOOling mE, DREam.”

-----

Strings sat outside of their new home on their front steps, looking at the abandoned AU, Kevin resting in his lap. It had been about a week since JR finished lockdown and had announced that they had found Glitch guilty of helping them escape.

He was so worried. They had only said his lover was guilty, not the conviction. For all he knows, his Glitchy could be dead right now and he wouldn’t even know.

Absentmindedly he held the blanket around him closer. The blanket he and Glitch fell asleep under, and the one he woke up in. The one that his lover crafted to remind himself of Strings, and the one that Strings now has to remind him of his skeleton.

The door opened with a creak, and Nightmare sat down next to him, handing him a mug of hot chocolate, giving Kevin a spinach leaf.

Strings slowly looked over, seeing his consoling expression and arms open, offering a hug. He nodded, letting himself lean against his friend. The hug didn’t fill his nose with the smell of fried circuits, nor did he hear the subtle beeps, but it was still comforting.

“We’ll get them back.” Nightmare promised, letting go. Clutching onto the paint-stained scarf around his neck.

The door opened again, and Cross came down, sitting next to them, another two mugs of hot chocolate. One for himself and another for Nightmare.

“You’re not alone in this, Strings, we got you,” Cross spoke, giving a light pat to Strings’ back, unsure if the glitched human’s haphephobia would allow much more.

Strings nodded, feeling a bit better, but worried.

Dreamswap and kevin belongs to @onebizarrekai

Underverse and Cross belong to @jakei95

Dream and Nightmare belong to @jokublog

Ink belongs to @comyet

Error belongs to @loverofpiggies

Blue belongs to the community

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writing-the-end · 3 years

Text

LoL Chapter 29- Fae Magic

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

BDubs and Stress take a trip to the eternal spring fields in eastern Lairyon, where they face lighthearted trouble and grim fates.

________________________________________

“Oh! That tingles.” BDubs giggles, feeling the hot, dry heat turn into a comforting warm breeze upon entering the magical barrier. Wet, damp air hanging with droplets soaking in the warm sun rays, clinging to the vibrant flowers and trees that turn the enchanted forest into a painting. Eternal spring among the Flowerfruit Fields, petals and berries of rare specimens growing in the wild space. Pink and green grow from the collapsed buildings, vines laden with fruit creeping down the roof. The vines and bushes overflow onto the thin green pathways of the roads and walking trails.

It’s the fruit and herbs that Stress and BDubs are here for. If they hope to face Dolios, and to help their friends ward off the darkness that attacks them, they need an antidote for dark magic. Stress thinks she found a potion that could reverse any ill effects- if administered in time. Unfortunate for the hermits, the ingredients are rare and unusual. No apothecary she visited had the ingredients she needed. Most they never even heard of.

But if there’s one place she could find the ingredients, it was here in the fields. Foraging among neon green leaves and plump blue fruit. And if there’s one hermit that knows what weed is what, it would be BDubs- resident plant mage. And already, he’s like a kid in a candy store. “Amazing, I thought the starflower went extinct eons ago! Oh, is that a kipling scale vine? Absolutely incredible, stunning.”

Stress snorts back a laugh. “How do you keep all that information in yer head?”

“By removing non-important info, like how not to yell, or all my maths I learned in school. A-and names. If they aren’t a hermit, I don’t remember.” BDubs springs to his feet, grabbing the parchment of paper while Stress escapes the heat of her robes. It’s a little much, the fuzzy wool and thick fleece. She wraps the sleeves around her waist, revealing pale, toned arms and a bright pink undershirt. “Alright, what’s on the shopping list for today?”

Together, the two forage across the field. Stress plucks leaves that BDubs points out, bags fruit that she remembers from the potion book, but no matter how long they searched, they could not find the rarest, most elusive ingredient of all- dragonfruit. Though BDubs has heard of the unique plant, he has no clue how it grows. Is it a vine plant, like a melon? Or perhaps arboreal, or bushgrown. After stabbing himself on the thorns of an estenberry bush, for the fifth time, he snarls defeat.

“Aww, don’t give us that attitude, BDubs. We’ve been at this fer ages, it’s okay if we take a break.” Stress gazes at the sky, the sun already setting. They arrived here this morning, but all day among the fields has eaten up their daylight. A cold breeze nips at her nose, inviting her to set up camp.

“No, I’m not stopping until this job is done!” He plunges his hands into a patch of star flowers, hoping that maybe he’ll find something in there. Instead, he feels the sensation of something cool but energetic running along the tips of his nails. The sound of bells rings in his ears.

And Stress smacks her forehead, so hard that her pale skin turns as red as a Fi fruit. “The fair folk! Of course! They created the Flowerfruit fields, surely they’d know where we can find one of them dragonfruit!”

BDubs snorts, brushing dirt from his fingers. “You actually believe in faeries? What are you, twelve?”

“Would you-!” Stress claps her hand over his mouth, glancing from side to side, then glaring him down. “Of course they’re real, BDubs. What, you tellin’ me you’ll believe in dragons and plant monsters, but the other kind are too far outta the realm of belief?”

The plant mage only nods his head, glancing around at the evening field. Fireflies dance in the blue night sky, and bunnies hop across the trails, from fruit to fruit in search of their next meal. He sighs, backing away. If there’s one thing he learned, it’s best not to trifle with any of the girls. Cleo and False could run him through with their blades if he crosses them- which, admittedly, takes a lot to do. But he’s also the master of annoying people. Stress however… she needs no weapon to make an impact. “Alright, we’ll look for your faerie friends, if you think it’ll help.”

Stress’s smile is worth backing down on this argument. Seeing his friends happy is what he loves to see most. BDubs follows the ice blue trail of her robe into a thicket of trees, dancing around the rare and exquisite herbs growing at his feet. He can hear the sound of bells ringing in his ears, soft and sweet, just at the cusp of sounding like voices and laughter. Some of the dancing fireflies cast shadows that look bipedal, but he chalks it all up to his weary body. Stress and him had been traveling for days to arrive here, only to jump right into searching for ingredients. Ingredients that now swing in pouches and vials on his and Stress’s waist.

All except for this ridiculous dragonfruit. He can’t help but grumble to himself as he follows Stress. Why would a dragon even want fruit? Are they omnivores? It sure didn’t seem like it at the championship. Do they grow them, is that why? What he wouldn’t give to see a massive dragon tending to a tiny dragonfruit plant, tilling the soil and watering it at the mouth of their caves.

BDubs is yanked out of his own thoughts, Stress grabbing him by the arm and nearly throwing him into the mossy grass at her feet. He’s about to whine about the rough takedown, but she falls to the floor next to him. “Look!”

The two peer through ivy and bushes. Before their eyes, mushrooms and toadstools grow and glow in the moonlight. Pink flowers of cherry blossom trees sway, petals falling to the verdant floor in a storm of rose. Fireflies dim to reveal the festivities inside the ring. Dozens of fae, dancing with bare feet across the soft moss. Their laughter sounds like tiny bells, harps and pipes filling the air as if it were a human orchestra. No matter their tiny size, the music rose well beyond the center of their festivities.

Stress reminds herself it’s rude to eavesdrop. She crawls through the bush, about as unlady-like as she can get, but announces her arrival. “Hello, fair folk!”

The fae rise on dragonfly wings, an aura of light following them as they dance upon glitters and gusts. They bow and welcome Stress to the Flowerfruit Fields, though the music grinds to a halt and the glimmers turn red. Stress realizes what’s wrong, and elbows BDubs in the stomach. Hard. “Ow! Alright, Hello, other kind or whatever.”

“Don’t ruin this, be polite.” She growls under her breath, amber eyes turning icey. “Just...follow my lead.” Stress turns away, walking into the clearing. Careful to avoid stepping within the faerie circle. “I’m the Ice Mage, and that’s the Plant Mage.”

“My name is-” BDubs howls as a heavy snowboot lands on the arch of his foot. “Yep, that’s me, the Plant Mage.”

A young faerie, hair a dark halo of curls bouncing against deep hued skin. Pink petals stitch into clothing, a smile for jewelry and raindrops for gems. “Welcome, mortal mages! For what reason do you enter our forest? Do you wish to join in our celebrations? Perhaps you would like some food?”

At least this time, BDubs waits for Stress to tell him no. They do not enter the faerie circle, nor do they accept the food. “Actually, we’ve been lookin’ fer something all day long, and if there was anyone who would know where to find the final ingredient to our list, it would be the very people that created these fields.”

Just like BDubs, fae like their egos stroked. The fae accept the kind comments, a few playing with Stress’s short brown locks. BDubs steps away, unwelcome to the idea of tiny, glittery creatures touching him in any way. “Of course, we would love to show you our wonderful creation. Eternal spring, the time of birth and celebration!”

The faerie attempts to lead Stress into the circle, but she’s too clever to be caught in their trap. She’s a woman raised in high society- she can sniff out trouble a mile away. “We searched all day, but could not find the last ingredient we need.”

“A dragonfruit.” BDubs finishes, wringing his hands. If he gets his hands on the seeds of this rare plant, he’ll propagate it in his own jungle garden, until no one ever has to stick their hands in a fi fruit bush ever again in search. The fae around him titter, and he catches only snippets of the gossip and conversations around him. Something about the rarity of the fruit, the tender care needed, like it was a jewel or child. How much time it took for the fae to find one. He sneers, turning his back on the petite party. “Forget it, they don’t have the ingredient Stress. They just want to force us into their weird little realm they’ve got.”

“BDu- Plant Mage!” Stress claps her hand over her mouth. He said her name. Not her full name, thankfully, but it’s one piece to the puzzle the fae could use in their tricks. She turns back, kneeling to the tiny troublemakers. She has to pick her words carefully. “Please ignore my ignorant friend, he didn’t mean what he said. Your help is greatly appreciated from me, and my appreciation spans to him.”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you so much for all the help. I dunno about you, Ice Wizard, but I don't see a dragon-” His whining morphs into squeaking, and laughter crowds the illuminated air around Stress. Her fellow hermit is no longer at her side. A rabbit is instead. No, wait. Stress would know that tuft of hair between large, floppy ears anywhere.

“He runs his mouth like a bunny.” The pink faerie giggles. They turn their attention to Stress, a glint in their eye matching the mischievous tone of their voice. And Stress thought the look on Grian’s face was trouble. “Unfortunately, bunnies cannot carry a dragonfruit. And I don’t think we’d want to give such a rare fruit to ungrateful humans. No no no!”

“Fair folk, we humbly request your kindness. My friend here is an idiot-” She yelps as sharp bunny teeth nip her fingers. “And a right meanie. But we need the fruit. This potion is crucial to the safety of all Lairyon. Please, if he apologizes consider giving us the dragonfruit.”

“An apology will not be enough.” A fairy with a red aura and lanky wings deems. “Apologies are worthless to the fae. Your belittled bunny here must prove he is sorry, and lower his crown to that of jester to be granted reprieve.”

Stress glances at her furry friend, but he shakes his head, crossing his paws in defiance. “It’s a deal! What’s one little prank gonna do?”

The fields flurry around the two, separating Stress from bunny BDubs. One faerie settles on Stress’s shoulder, warning her she should stay back. They don’t want the kind human to be caught up in the misgivings of the illfated. Another faerie drops a flower crown atop Stress’s head, though Stress is careful not to accept any food the fair folk offer.

BDubs, on the other hand, is picked up by his fluffy cotton tail by three different fae, their laughter a cacophony of bells. His tiny claws dig into the dirt, but the otherworldly beings are must stronger than his thumper feet, and they succeed in pulling him to a faerie well. The pink aura fairy flits to the stone siding, casting dust into the ripples as if she were sowing seeds. The water turns a milky shade, swirling like clouds trapped in the ground. Mist pours from the sides.

Fae pull BDubs off the ground, suspending the rabbit above the well. “Enjoy your nap, Plant Mage.”

Stress joins in the raucous laughter from all around the forest, and a short squeak is cut off when the faeries dunk BDubs into the well. He doesn’t stay under for long, but when the faeries pull him out, his eyes are closed and mouth lolled open. Somehow, even in a rabbit’s body, BDubs manages to snore. Stress raises an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

The fae go silent, the entire forest echoing only the sound of BDubs fast asleep, apart from a snicker here and there. A squeaky, high pitched voice breaks the silence. “Nonono, big gummy bear, I’m not cherry flavored. I swear.”

Stress realizes the voice is coming from the rabbit, and a snort slips through her lips. The forest roars with laughter, as BDubs continues to dream aloud. His dreams jump from ridiculous statement to ridiculous statement. Stress was sure she heard the weirdest things come from BDubs before, but she can’t help but howl like a chupacabra when BDubs mumbles out his secret enjoyment of diamonds. “Guess someone ‘as rubbed off on ya. Better remember to wash my coins and jewels when they come from both of ye now.”

Feeling fuzzy both inside and out, BDubs coughs up a hairball from his throat. He opens his eyes, rubbing them from sleep, before realizing he is fuzzy. He’s still part rabbit, in the midst of transforming back from bunny to human. Paws turning to hands, ears shortening back to be beneath his bandana. The young faerie donned in pink settles their arm against BDubs’ bunny feet. “So, how was your nap?”

“That was the wor-” Stress cuts BDubs off, eyes blazing hot enough to melt all the ice in Lairyon. The last thing he should be doing is rebuking the fae. Again. BDubs groans, but voice pitches to a sickly sweet tone. “I had a wonderful nap.”

The fair folk all in the fields laugh and cheer, some zipping away to tell others of the fun they missed. It’s a rare delight to have such entertainment, such a witty human that can still fall for their pranks. The young faerie in pink disappears among the bushes, and returns with a bag full of small black seeds. “We fae keep our word.”

“Th-” BDubs remembers not to say those words, and simply bows his head in response. “Great kindness, i guess or whatever.”

“We will miss your company.” They snicker. “We would love to have a romping rabbit to bemuse us...and of course, the kindly Ice mage. Take good care of these rare seeds, they require the care of a beast, much like their namesake.”

BDubs takes the pouch, securing it right next to his heart. He’s going to sleep holding these seeds after what he’s been through. The two hermits rise, about to make their way from the fields when a green light collides into BDubs’s head. “Can I not get a godsdamned break here?”

The faerie that ran into him shakes off his stupor, voice running so fast it sounds less like talking and more like chirping. Stress turns to look at the fae. “What’s the problem, loves?”

Faeries rush around them, flitting around in every direction with no sense of purpose or precedent. The young pranking pixie starts to fly away, but stops dead in the air. “No, no that will not do. The dark presence is too close.”

“Dark presence? What do you mean?” Stress follows the faerie, but they turn on the hermits. A hand as small as Stress’s pinky nail passes between hermit and other kind. BDubs moves to follow, but discovers he can’t pick up his feet. It’s as if they are rooted into the ground.

“Be the light.” The faerie breathes, before disappearing in the brambles and bushes. Stress cries, watching as her robes turn to bark, bones to wood. Her feet have become roots, and it’s climbing higher.

BDubs reaches out to help his friend, shock dawning on his face as his fingers turn to branches, bright pink cherry blossoms blooming. The transformation engulfs Stress’s face, Features turning to knots and whorls of the grain. He can only close his eyes, and accept that they’ve been tricked by the fae again.

Except when he opens his eyes, he can still see. He cannot move, cannot even breathe, but he remains able to see the outside world. He feels a brush of leaves against his own branches, and that’s all he needs to know that Stress is alive as well.

Why have the fae trapped them? Why turn them to trees, but let them see the world beyond?

Screams fill the air where there was once birdsong and laughter, the peace of the Flowerfruit Fields shattered. BDubs surges forward, but is stopped by his own roots and rigidity. A howl sends shivers down his leaves, and in the moonlight, a shadow beast prawls through the grove. A varkolak husk, red foam dripping from it’s misty muzzle, sniffs the air before chasing after fleeing lights.

Stress can’t watch. She closes her eyes, hearing the husked creatures snarl and snap, and a distant chuckle begins to arise from the bloodbath. She keeps her eyes closed, until that charismatic voice warms across the massacre. “Such raw magic...so ethereal, why haven’t I thought of coming here before?”

Three spires of black crystal orbit around Dolios’s crown, mist swirling. With each breath Dolios takes, he consumes the dark magic. Red splatters across his cheek, droplets falling from the hairs of his perfectly kept beard. Eyes glimmer with curiosity as a faerie is dangled from between his fingers.

A crystal lowers from the angled orbit around the Magistrate’s head, and a shadow falls over the cherry blossom tree. Transparent mist swirls like midday clouds, a low rumble of a magic spell escaping under Dolios’s breath, followed by a cut off scream, scraping like a bell.

When the shadow disappears, there is no faerie left. Only the magic, the power writhing through Dolios’s veins. The magistrate looks around, and for a moment Stress fears he knows they’re not real trees. But he steps over the corpses on the ground, faeries sapped of their power fading away into nothing. Not even a husk.

The stolen magic disappears under Dolios’s golden hemmed sleeve, and his hands clasp behind his back. The husk monsters continue at the simple nod of his head. Leaving behind in his wake a bloodbath, and the ashes of what once were the fae of the Flowerfruit fields.

#light of lairyon #lol #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanfic #hermitcraft au #wizard au #wizard hermits #wizard stress #wizard bdubs #stressmonster101 #bdoubleo100 #bdubs #faeries #fae

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kazbrkker · 4 years

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Chapter 9: A Witness and Witless

Chapter summary: A realisation for Alexis, kindly dished by Captain Price. Meanwhile, danger is the gift that keeps on giving. (3284 words).

Warnings: N/A.

29 October 2019, 0500 "Alexis" and "Alex" | Codename Aces CIA with SAS and Urzik militia Sakhra, Urzikstan

Having her forehead split open had its benefit. Okay, maybe that was arguable, but Alexis was mildly grateful that the unbearable stings stirred her awake. It saved from her reliving a gauche situation: sleeping limbs entangled with her best friend, who she almost kissed, again.

They were practically squashed together, her head pillowed against his firm chest. Seeing how paranoid and sharp to his surroundings Alex was, his iron grips were challenging to snake out of it, good thing she had practice.

Here, at 5 am, while others were desperately chasing some sleep, Alexis was too engrossed in her own thoughts. The past 24 hours happened like a flash, and the Wolf was her highlight, making her fidget uncomfortably just at the thought.

You should have fought harder, been stronger, not falter at his baseless threats. Alexis had no one but herself to blame for allowing the Wolf to escape. The guilt her mistake carried fuelled the fire inside her, with revenge as additional gasoline to the mix.

The Chinese had a saying: "for what you do upon me, I'd unleash it ten times worse." Omar Sulaman would regret ever threatening her.

Seeking refuge under a dying tree at the residence's courtyard, she brooded in reflection. At least she figured out an end goal for the Wolf, but the friendship between Alex and her was shaky, at best. Alexis released an exhale of pent-up frustration, fingers weaving her chocolate locks into a braid. So immersed with overthinking, she almost failed to catch Price's approaching footsteps.

"No rest for the wicked, eh?" He arched a concerned brow at her stitches.

Alexis cracked a smile, "'Course." Patting beside her, she gestured for Price to take a seat with her on the patch of dried grass. "Please, don't be a nanny. Just sit down."

"Fantastic. I'm in no mood for that either," Price replied. His face briefly caught silvers of golden rays, accentuating the eye bags and fine lines that revealed just how much Price had aged since their last encounter. Even without the combat vest, his broad shoulders remained permanently slouched.

Alexis smelled smoke before the wisps floated past her. Witnessing how it relaxed Price, she shuts her mouth. "Something wrong?" she guessed, feeling the passing smoke layer her tongue with a woody fragrance, suddenly feeling the need to spit.

"The Butcher... Bastard didn't even spare a kid." Price took another deep inhale.

Alexis sighed, "We'll make him pay."

"Damn right." The price of war was a hefty one. And Alexis idolised John Price for his unwavering tenacity. By far, he was the most unbreakable person she'd ever met.

"So..." Alexis steered the topic, "What cover story did you tell Maddox and Forbes this time?"

Price scoffed lightly, a light-hearted undertone in his words, "Ah, I didn't bother. Bloody bitch about it, is all they do." Though Price, Maddox and Forbes all knew each other, Alexis always questioned what kind of Doomsday loomed over the world for a SAS Captain, Task Force Black's commander and a CIA handler to cross paths. Candidly, it made her excited to know why.

"Something going on between you and Alex?" Price questioned abruptly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She confidently lied, ignoring the tingling sensation on her lips.

"For your sake, I hope you lie better when you're on the job," he mocked. Did she develop a tell? How did Price always know?

"Ah, it's just a bunch of gossips, don't feed into it."

"It's a reliable source," that piqued her curiosity.

"Kyle," she deadpanned, twisting her body towards Price. "Call MacTavish, I'm gonna skin Kyle alive."

Price hummed, giving her an amused look, "That'd be a waste of talent. So it's true, you two dating?"

She didn't even know the answer herself, so she replied with something safe, "We're friends, always have been." Her gaze averted to the small wildflowers blossoming under the base of the tree she leaned on. Chrysanthemums, its deep red petals swaying gently against the wind currents, almost like a greeting wave. Alexis scratched her head at the timely symbolism.

"Don't get stupid, you know better than most that nothing lasts forever," Price chided with a distant look in his eyes. "That boy looks at you like there isn't a war waging on."

Alexis sighed, twirling the stalks of red chrysanthemum hesitantly, "That's the problem. Wars are happening, it's selfish."

The Captain huffed almost disappointedly, "There's always a war. You see something you want, you best hold onto it before something blows it up."

"Shouldn't you advise me against fraternisation, Captain?" She smiled.

Staggered smokes escaped when Price let out a short laugh, "Whoever tries to boss you around is an idiot. Do I look like one?"

"No, no you're not," she chuckled, always finding wisdom in Price's words. So when he told her the way Alex looked at her wasn't platonic, she believed him. Not like it was unbelievable or anything. The way he tirelessly searched for her in a crowd every few moments—then smile when their gaze meets. With ample practices over the years, she'd successfully ignored how much he burned her insides with a simple look.

Now, maybe she didn't need to.

Alexis was always more of a spy than a soldier—at least, that was what Maddox always said about her. A natural God instinct to read the room, practically able to smell the changes like a bloodhound. Yet she was slow to pick up on the change in their friendship.

Slow, and a little reluctant. Now that she opened the floodgates that she guarded for so long, every possible feeling punched their way to her heart.

She was still in love with Alex. A chilling sensation ran over her spine when she inwardly admitted that. It puzzled her if it was relief or nerves? Either way, it jolted a new kind of excitement in her. Every exhale felt lighter.

"And what about you and Laswell?" Alexis retorted smugly, enjoying the rare stunned expression that slipped onto her mentor's face. "C'mon, give me some credit. The most impressive agent you've ever come across, right? I read your debrief about me from the Caucasus mission."

At his threatening frown, she held up surrendering hands, "Alright, alright! I'm done here."

Price ignored her teases, stubbing out his cigar at the base of the tree. "The Caucasus... That's what, 7 years ago? You just made JSOC back then."

Alexis cackled at the memory, "Back then you didn't have this glorious moustache. Remember when I pulled a knife on Mactavish?"

"Scared the lad shitless. Didn't show it, but sure as well saw it," Price continued, a smirk present on his face.

"I sure as hell felt it. Mactavish's pulse was jumping." Then she paused, realising Price purposely dodged her questions. So she tried again, "Don't avoid my questions, I'm a great matchmaker!"

He shot her a look, "Says the oblivious fool."

"Touche. But still-"

Luckily, Hadir spotted them, sliding open the residence's glass door and jogged up to them. "Oh, Hadir! Thank goodness you're here, Price was about to murder me."

Hadir squinted in confusion. "Ignore her," Price got to his feet and dusted the grass off his camo pants, sending the gleeful agent a hard glare. "Lass hit her head too hard, she's spewing rubbish. Careful, Hadir." He patted Hadir's back and started to head back to the house.

"C'mon mate!" Alexis yelled after him with a butchered English accent. "I said I'm sorry!" She laughed at Price's slightly gapped mouth.

"Did I mention?" His hands steadied against the sliding door, "You're benched!"

With that, Price slid the glass door closed, wearing an amused expression as she yelled pleads after him with no avail. "Petty old fellow."

Hadir sat on Price's previous spot, gracing her with a chocolate bar. Unlike commercial ones, military chocolate hardly tasted edible—for somebody who hated chocolates, it was a torture to sink her teeth into the hard cocoa blocks. "Hadir, you couldn't find anything else?"

"It's chocolate!"

"You think."

His enthusiasm didn't die down as he chowed down his own energy bar, but after a few chews, Hadir promptly stuck out his tongue in disgust, earning a burst of hearty laughter from Alexis, "People eat this?"

"Dumb soldiers do. But the smart ones..." Alexis pulled out a packet of biscuits from the side pocket of her pants, wiggling in front of Hadir. She snatched the cup of hot water from him and dunked the biscuits in, much to his protests. Seconds later, the biscuit softened to a texture that resembled a sponge cake. Alexis urged the wide-eyed Hadir to take a bite.

Hadir was sceptical until he tried it, pleasantly surprised. He praised, "Finally, some food fit for humans!"

"Genius, right?" He nodded in agreement, passing her the cup to share. "And I can see that look in your eyes that you want to ask if I'm okay, so answer your question: I'm fine, although I'm sick of people asking me that. Thinking about tattooing the answer across my forehead, wanna help?"

"Horrible idea... Count me in. But no, not your injuries, here," he pointed at his heart. "You feel bad for letting the Wolf go, I know. It's not your fault, Alena– Alexis," he corrected. "Your names are confusing."

The smirk on her face faltered slightly. Though it quickly returned, Hadir already saw the cracks in her smile. Then she decided not to bother with the facade. "I should have fought harder. I imagine there are people who should be alive right now if not for me."

"Like I said, not your fault. In all my years, you got my sister and me closer than we've ever been to end this war... We've lost many brothers and sisters to get to this point. Between Barkov and the Wolf, I'm not sure which of these dogs are worse." His words had a certain edge in them, reminding her how much this war changed Hadir. "But they are not careless men. Why did the Wolf keep you alive?"

"Said he wanted to watch me suffer," Alexis answered honestly, hesitantly taking another bite of her dessert. "Jokes on him. I'm gonna crush him. We're gonna fucking crush them."

Hadir pulled his legs closer to his chest, returning a small smile when she rested a comforting hand on his knees, "With a big enough stone, right?"

"Damn right."

━━━━━━

Even with the miraculous arrival of a second chance, it doesn't mean Alexis made it easy. Now was the perfect example for his argument.

"Maybe you did hit your head too hard—look in the mirror and tell me if you see a large cut across your forehead, because I might be seeing things." He pinched his nose bridge in distress. Price had tasked the very injured Alexis to sweep houses with Bravo Team, take it easy and all.

Alexis wore a polite smile and calmly said, "Fuck you."

"How eager," he retorted, knowing just the way to irk her.

She threw up her trusty middle finger, "Hard pass."

Really? She thought, playing hard to get is so 2002, Alexis.

"Really?" He moved closer, and except for a hardened face, Alexis did nothing to stop him. Trapped between Alex and a table, she breathily observed the blue flecks in his irises, avoiding his alluring pink lips that was definitely calling to her. "Trouble breathing?"

Alexis swallowed her nerves, "The only trouble I'm having is my lack of personal space."

"Ouch..." His head fell defeatedly on her shoulder, chuckling. "Lexi, honey..." he gilded, eyes boring into her own. She kept still and bit her tongue at the pet name, watching his gaze travel down her face, maybe her lips.

Alex pressed more of his weight against her, "Be a good girl for me. Consider I said please."

Her heart quickened, sparing a quick glance at the wide-open door full of Marines who stood oblivious to their actions, but if they continued standing in this position, it was just a matter of time. "You're adding to the rumours..."

"So everybody thinks we're dating, big deal." He slammed the door shut to prove a point.

Are we? What is this between us?

She tasted the words on the tip of her tongue. Alex's flirting had become painfully obvious that she wasn't the sole player of this game anymore. And instead of addressing it, her wickedness took over—lightly chewing down her lips just to confirm her suspicions again.

A knowing smile slowly builds when he took the bait.

Alex blinked rapidly, retreating instantly. His attempt to clear his throat was pathetic, voice throaty as he said, "You're going with Bravo, no arguments."

"Like hell. The medic cleared me!"

Alex paused thoughtfully, rolling up his sleeves up his forearm. If this was his sly attempt to distract her, it worked. Reasons beyond her, his tattooed arms were incredibly attractive. "Was that before or after you threaten him?"

He didn't... Alexis recalled the easily convinced medic. Sue her for having a way with words. She smiled sweetly, refocusing on packing her combat bag, "You have no proof."

"Tell that to your face," he rolled his eyes. "Babe, come on, there's not enough time for me to tie you to a bed."

She'd admit to almost choking at his unexpected comment. Like a good spy, she hung a scowl at his charming smirk—refusing to play into his trap. Then, she internalised his appearance, styled hair, in the middle of a war. Still so vain. Probably trying to impress her, cute.

"Number one, you're god damn shameless–"

"I call it honesty," he shrugged.

"Outrageous, not to mention scandalous-" she corrected.

Alex huffed, throwing his head back briefly.

"Number two, I'm pretty sure Wade outside there, who was shot in the thigh is still on the mission. Talk about a double standard."

Usually, this danger zone was when Alex would back off. But today, she was convinced he had an intensified case of a stick up his ass. Still, he brazenly took the loaded magazines off her hands. "I'm trying to not treat you any differently from the boys, if that's what you're implying. I just don't want anything else to happen to you, Alexis."

"But I am different, Alex! I'm not the boys," the menace in her voice was hard to miss, a stark juxtaposition to the playfulness, "I don't want to be one of the boys. Read my damn resume, you really think this injury will be the one to do me in?" Her neck craned upwards to meet him, "I'm still standing. I can do this."

Alex finally uncrossed his arms and nodded, "Okay."

She cast a suspicious sideways glance, "That's it?"

Alex hummed– actually hummed this time. Her eyebrows shot heavenward, which amused him. "You expected a few more rounds, didn't you?" At her nod, "I trust you, that's all."

"Huh... Usually, you'd try harder. Say something melodramatic like: No, Alexis! You'll quite possibly die, bleed out to death–"

"Defamatory, I do not sound like that," he insisted upon her dramatic pause and casual dismissal of hands.

Alexis poked accusingly into his chest, "Something's wrong with you." He smirked like he knew something she didn't, and ironically, she did. You're not that slick, Romeo. Two can play this game.

"Funny. Here I thought a master profiler like yourself had better skills."

Part of her questioned if it was a double meaning, but shook it off. Grabbing her stolen magazines from his grasp, "Come on, we have a war to fight."

She wondered if Alex's blood had always run so hot when she reached over to grab his arm, surely she wasn't the only one who felt that. But Alex remained silent and allowed her to push him towards the door. They were about to step out until her satellite phone sounded. The two shared looks of caution at the odd notion, her phone hardly rang. Alex was the designated communication channel, and with Price's arrival, he carried that responsibility.

Unless it was an emergency... She quickly accepted the call. "This is a secured line, identify yourself and how you got this number."

"I have my ways. Good to hear you're still breathing."

Her shoulders relaxed, "Ruddiger. Why wouldn't I– Did something happen?"

"Saint, listen carefully, I don't have much time." She mumbled a quick apology before kicking him out the room.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"After you left, we got a tip about Valhalla's safe house. It was a scam to draw our attention away from Boucher." Her stomach clenched at the ominous feeling. "He's dead. Someone got to him."

"In the Hostel? That's not possible." The whole point of a Blacksite was that it didn't exist.

"It's true, Saint. I saw his body with my own eyes. We found a tracker—plastic polymer, explains why it didn't show up when we wanded him." He continued when Alexis didn't reply, "This shit gets worse. They got a list... Of everybody who's on the op."

Her heart stopped right then, "No fucking way. Where are you now? And wait, this is high-level intel, how do you-"

"I'm officially CIA, thanks to your glowing recommendation. So technically, I'm also here to say I owe you one. The welcoming committee sucks, they're putting us in safe houses. All except you."

Then Alex burst through the doors, signalling it was time to move, but paused at her ghastly face. She held up a shaky hand, "Well, fuck, mon sauveur, huh? Thanks for the intel, but you do know you just broke protocol?"

From the anxious rubs on her face, Alex knew something was really wrong.

Ruddiger laughed on the other line, "Consider it my gratitude for your olive branch. I gotta go. Stay safe, Saint. You'll never know how far Valhalla can reach."

"I'm in the middle of a war. He'll never find me here," she braved through the unsteadiness in her voice. When the call ended, she remained on the chair, still profoundly dumbstruck. She didn't know which was worse: that someone managed to infiltrate a Level 10 CIA blacksite, spooking Valhalla, or that her name was sitting somewhere on a hit list.

Another question bagged her, was it her real name? A thousand worries crashed down onto her. Why haven't Forbes or Maddox called?

"Hey," Alexis jumped at the touch, instilling more fret in Alex, who kneeled before her chair. "You're shaking. You okay?"

Alexis knew Alex wouldn't stop until he got an answer. Yet she couldn't give it to him, she'd put him in danger.

"Always," she mustered the biggest smile she could. And because of that, Alex saw right through her. But there wasn't time to dig further, they had a war to fight. Besides, for all she knew, she was safe, for now.

If Forbes or Maddox haven't called, it meant she was still safe. She'd focus on that.

When she wordlessly slung her rifle and holstered her guns, there was a heavier feeling bubbling inside her. Alexis didn't have a good omen, but she couldn't pinpoint if her gut was referring to today's war, or the brewing one.

Ah fuck, is there a difference? War is war.

War is war, was her final thought as she got ready to start a day full of tragedies.

Alexis should have listened to her gut.

‧͙⁺˚*·༓

a/n: taking a minute to say thank you to all of you!! i never thought Killer Instinct would receive so much love, but here we are, thank you lovers!!

taglist: @flyboidameron @wanderlustgiant @captain-pikas-world (wanna be tagged? lmk!)

#call of duty x oc #call of duty x reader #alex modern warfare #alex cod #echo 3-1 #john price #captain price #kyle garrick #farah karim #hadir karim #kate laswell #oc: alexis #ysrwrites: kl #killer instinct #fanfiction #modern warfare

37 notes · View notes

is0gild · 4 years

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Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 29

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 8,417

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

"What the everliving fuck, Lea?! Why the hell are you naked in our kitchen?!"

Riku's muffled shout had me jerking awake and shooting up in bed, my hand clutching the blanket.

"Er, heh… laundry day?"

Lea's response.

Both voices had come from the other side of my closed bedroom door. I heard a ruckus out there ensue - possibly the sounds of a chase? Wincing at the sunlight pouring in through my window, I glanced towards the clock on my nightstand. Ugh, we'd only gotten to sleep a few short hours ago.

...speaking of…

I lifted my blanket slightly away from me as I looked down at myself.

Yup.

Not a stitch on me.

Not sure what else I could've possibly expected.

My door suddenly burst open and I gasped, hugging my comforter to my chest once more as Lea came barreling in. Okay, at least he wasn't completely naked. He had one of my bed sheets wrapped around his waist. Thankfully. I don't think that my heart could have survived such a visual otherwise at this precise moment.

He leapt into bed with me, sniggering as he hid behind me. Or rather, tried to anyway. My frame was far too small to be concealing such a large man. "Mornin', gorgeous!" he chirped, planting a swift peck to my cheek.

Face heating and groggy brain still trying to catch up, I began, "I- Wha-"

"Why, Lea?! Just… why?!" Riku yelled from the other side of the door, which seemed to have hit a wall and bounced back to almost closing again. It was now just barely open a crack for us to clearly hear my annoyed roommate's voice through it.

"Was trynta scrounge something up for breakfast!" Lea called back. "El was hungry!"

...I was?

My stomach growled.

Oh. Apparently, yes. Yes I was.

...oh gosh, it hadn't been gurgling in my sleep, had it? How embarrassing.

Riku's voice snarled, "You couldn't have put some goddamn pants on first?!"

"It was an emergency! Hadta get some food in the woman, stat!"

There was a loud angry huff from the other side of the door. "Whatever, you just better not have sat on anything out here or I swear…"

It hadn't escaped my notice that Riku hadn't followed Lea in here. Perhaps the implications of Lea barging in first in his current state of undress had not been lost on him and so he was staying out there to preserve my modesty.

Rayne on the other hand…

My door banged open for a second time to reveal her suddenly standing in the threshold, a huge ear-to-ear grin splitting her face in two. "Oh my god, it finally happened!"

Rayne had no such compunctions.

She squealed before running further into the room, holding something up in one hand. "Ahh, I'm so excited! So, so happy for you guys! Oh dear lord, you have no idea how frustrating it's been watching the two of you just dancing around each other this whole time but not bloody doing a damn thing about it! It was driving me up the goddamn wall!" Turns out that thing in her grasp was her phone, or so I came to realize when she shoved it in my face, "But finally! The day we've all been hoping for is here at last! The day you've become," pause for dramatic effect,"...a woman! Halle-freakin-lujah! Do you have any words you'd like to commemorate this momentous event with?"

"Why the phone?" was my oh so moving speech as I scrunched up my face and put my hand to the device, pushing it away.

She beamed and shrugged. "I'm recording this."

"You're what?!" I blanched.

"Yup! To immortalize this historic occasion! Plus, I need video evidence cuz otherwise there is no way Anna will ever believe this. She's gonna flip her-" she suddenly gasped, free hand shooting forward to brush my hair back off my shoulder while getting in close with her phone again. "Holy Jesus H Christ, Lea, what the hell did you do to the woman's throat?!"

I jerked back from her touch, brow furrowing. "My...?" I brought my hand up to brush a finger to my neck. Huh. It was rather sore…

"Dude," she fixed me with a pointed look from the other side of her phone. "It's absolutely covered in hickeys."

"H-?!" I choked on the word, eyes widening and face an inferno.

"Seriously. That thing is more bruise than neck at this point." Rayne leaned in even further with her mobile, fascinated. "Would you lookit that? All the lil ones are coming together to form - dun, dun dun," her voice dropped to intone with deep reverence, "the Mother Hickey!"

I slapped a hand over the spot, trying to cover it up.

She snerked then cackled. "Oh, sweetie. Your hand would have to be the size of an extra large, double stuffed pizza to conceal that monster! Damn, Red, for real… that's a masterpiece!"

Lea gave a sheepish laugh beside me, fingers ruffling his wild bedhead hair. "Guess it is some o' my best work, huh?"

Squeaking, I burrowed into my blankets to hide from the rest of the world.

"Alright, no further comment, show's over now. Riku!" Lea gave a sudden shout. "Come corral your woman!"

I heard a slow creak from my door, then the sound of feet awkwardly shuffling in. "Sorry about-" There was a thud and Riku hissed, "Ow! ...about this, Elsa. I pr-" Whump. "Gah! Promise I'm not-" Bang. "Goddamn it! I'm not-"

"Oh for the love of…" A sigh from Rayne. "Riku! You can remove your hand from your eyes, you goob! She's hiding under the sheets."

"I think I'll keep my hand right where it is, thank you very much!" he grumbled back. He could be heard shambling about for a bit more, peppered here and there by him bumping and crashing into a few more things, before finally, "Ah-ha! There you are!"

"Ack! Riku!" The sounds of what could only be described as a kerfuffle followed. "Put me down, brat!"

"We'll, uh… go get breakfast going and give you two some… privacy," Riku grunted out. Pretty sure I could hear him now literally dragging his wife out of the room. How he managed that one-handed (as I could only assume the other was still being used to shield his eyes), I'll never know. Eventually, mercifully, I heard my door click shut.

Lea gave a soft snort. "So… wanna come out and show me your beautiful face?" he then coaxed gently.

Twitching slightly, I gripped harder at the fabric of the comforter - aka my sanctuary. "Hmm… mm-mm, no, I think I'm good in here, thanks."

There was a brief pause. Then, "Alright. Guess me and my beautiful face are just gonna have to come in there instead." The blankets abruptly lifted, but only just enough for Lea to scooch in next to me under them before tucking them back down around us once more. His shoulders hunched, sheet overhead smooshing his hair down as he shot me a grin. "Hi."

Oh gosh, it was bad enough that he'd been naked before. Now he was naked and close. Not that I could really see anything below the waist - he was still wrapped in sheet down there. Still, even though I couldn't see him in all his nude glory, didn't mean I wasn't one hundred and ten percent fully aware of it and that thought alone was enough to send the blood rushing to my face all over again.

Ugh, calm down, cheeks. You'd think after last night, there'd be nothing left to get so red over.

"Wanna talk about it?" he tipped his head to one side.

"Hm?" I hummed absently, dragging my eyes up to meet his. While the actual goods were currently out of sight, I was still finding just the sight of his bare chest rather, hrm… distracting.

He gave a small shrug, "Whatever it is that's bothering you."

I gnawed on my lower lip and glanced away, clutching the undersheet more tightly to my chest.

...last night had been…

...amazing…

...slow and tender at times, and… heated and passionate at others, as well as, er… how shall I put it... enlightening? Sure, let's go with that. But also, it'd been…

...confusing.

I mean, not in the moment itself, it hadn't been. But now…? Well, it was just… we hadn't really talked about anything beforehand. Frankly, we'd let hormones do all the talking. Hormones were a new experience for me. I'd never even had so much as an inkling of a single solitary hormone ever before and last night I'd been struck by a whole raging tsunami of the damn things. Who knew they could be so, er… persuasive. It'd been all too easy to get swept up in the torrent. But now that the storm had died down, now that morning was here and I could think more clearly, I…

Well, I didn't regret it. No, not one bit. But… I guess I just had questions. Like where did this leave Lea and me? I hadn't forgotten the little detail that he'd never really been the relationship type before, and I had no real solid reason to believe that that was about to change just for me. And what about his whole "no girls until graduation" rule? Just what had this been for him then? A temporary lapse in judgement? A moment of weakness? Yeesh, I didn't want to be one of those girls who got all, "What does this mean?" after they sleep with a guy, but…

You know what? No, there was nothing wrong with being one of those girls. Those girls were valid. Those girls had a right to know and so did I, damn it! I deserved to know if this had actually meant something to him or if I'd just been a… another notch on the headboard or… or if he'd just been sowing his wild oats or-

"Oh gosh, was I just an oat to you?!" I suddenly blurted out, snatching the comforter down off my head with a huff.

"Uh…" Lea fought with the blanket a bit himself before his top half broke free to join me out here, blinking at me owlishly. "...no?" he tried, his guyliner-smudged eyes squinting uncertainly.

Right. Good job, mouth. Way to make me sound like a total crackpot.

Inhaling deeply through my nose and then puffing out a slow breath, I gave it another go. "...was last night just a…" The blush returned as I struggled for the right words. "...a one night stand?"

His shoulders stiffened as his head rocked back. "What?! No. God no! El, I-" his hand was reaching for me, but it stopped just short of my arm. He frowned, pulling it back to instead rub over his mouth then drag along the nape of his neck with a sigh. "Shit, we're always doing things so backwards, aren't we? Kissing before we'd even so much as said our first hello to each other… Going steady before we'd even been on a single date… Now hopping into bed together before taking a minute to tell each other how we really…" he trailed off with another sigh, leaving the thought unfinished.

I remained silent, just looking down as I drew my blanketed knees up, hugging them to my chest.

Lea shifted around so he was instead facing me now, clasping his own sheet to keep it firmly wrapped around his waist. Pulling one knee up himself, he propped an elbow atop it as he bent forward to my eye-level. "Do you remember the story I told about how we met?"

My eyes blinked. "You mean the plot of Before Sunrise?"

Grinning softly now, he said, "If you'll recall, that movie starts on the train. But that's not where the story I told began."

A crease formed between my eyebrows. "No, it started with the lantern festival."

"That's right," he nodded. "...I was there, El. I was really there, same time as you."

My spine snapped straight as I inhaled, small and sharp. "You were?"

"Yup! Everything… seeing you there, the lanterns going up, even the bit about me faceplanting into a lamppost… all of it, and I do mean all of it, was true."

I gaped slightly before shaking my head slowly. "But… you said you'd never seen the lantern show."

"I haven't. Oh sure, I was there, but I was too busy watching you instead," he chuckled, tapping me on the nose.

There was a small flutter inside my ribcage. Still, I frowned. "But… but I was the one who said the city we met in was Corona."

He snorted, scratching a spot behind his ear, "Yeah, and I was floored when ya did. Thought for a sec that maybe you actually had noticed me at the festival. But nope, turned out to just be a lucky shot in the dark!" Lea laughed, then paused with a wistful smile. "...obviously in the real story, I didn't end up following you onto that train, but shit, you dunno how bad I wanted to. But I'd just sworn off girls to focus on college only the day before, and I didn't wanna be so weak as to go tossing that out the window less than twenty-four hours in." His lips then pursed to one side, eyes downcast. "In a way, maybe it was for the best. I don't think the time was right for either of us yet. I… wouldn't have been ready to be the person you needed me to be."

I didn't know what to say to that. Even if I did, I'm not sure if I would have been able to get any words out past the tightening in my throat. So instead, I just settled for reaching for his hand.

Flashing me a grin, he brought it up so he could press his lips lightly to my knuckles before going on, "But man, did I regret letting you get away without even so much as talking to you. Was kicking myself ever since, thinking I'd never see you again." His eyes crinkled as he leaned in closer now, "So imagine my shock 'bout a year later when I spot a very cute, very familiar new girl working the ice cream counter across the food court from me. It'd seemed fate had decided to give me a second chance with the divine creature from the lantern festival. I just hadta meet her."

One corner of my mouth tugged up, "What about your dating hiatus?"

"Hey now, I was just trying to get to know you! You were the one who kissed me first, remember?" his lips twisted into a smirk and I rolled my eyes, feeling heat creeping up the back of my neck. His gaze turned serious however. "...women have always kinda been a weakness for me. I'd practically made a career out of skirt chasing. Whenever it came down to making a choice between the ladies and getting my shit together, I picked ladies every time. But when I finally decided, and I mean really decided to buckle down, I cut that part of my life out completely. I thought it would be hard, but it actually really wasn't. Turns out they'd just been a bad habit I hadta kick. Having them around had been a distraction.

"But when it came to you…" his eyes softened as he reached for a lock of my hair to fiddle with. "The more I got to know you, it… The distraction was… not having you around. I couldn't concentrate on anything else… not school, not work... I was thinking about you all the time. Couldn't get you outta my head. Not for a damn second."

"Lea…" my hand came up of its own accord to brush along his cheek.

He covered it with his own, turning his head slightly to kiss my palm. "...you know with crushes, or love at first sight, or whatever the hell you wanna call it… they say you're not really falling for the person, but rather just the idea of them. That you're just building 'em up in your head, putting 'em on a pedestal… but that when you actually finally do get to know the person, it'll be a letdown. That they won't turn out to be who you wanted them to be." Pressing our foreheads together now, he nuzzled the tip of his nose to mine, "But you turned out to be so much better than I ever coulda imagined."

I scoffed, face burning as I muttered, "Sounds like someone's been watching too many of those cornball movies."

"I mean it, so shush, you," he chided, biting back a grin. Then he was shifting a little closer to me. "What I'm trying to tell ya is that you're stuck with me. I'm not going anywhere. I'm yours, if you'll have me. I am all in."

My breath hitched as I stared into those stunning green eyes of his. I hesitated for a second, my thumb idly stroking along where he still had my hand clasped to his cheek. Then I bent forward, giving him a gentle kiss. "...I'm all in too."

"Yeah?" he murmured, grin twitching wider. "So how 'bout it then? Can I be your boyfriend for real this time?"

I hummed a soft laugh, nodding. "I'd like that very much."

"Good." Lea curled a finger under my chin, pressing his lips soundly to mine. Then he used his hold on my chin to carefully turn my head to one side, eyes half-lidded as he got a closer look at, er, heh… at the Mother Hickey. "Hmm, I really did do a number on this side of your neck, huh? Gotta a bit carried away." He planted a quick peck to the tender skin there, making it tingle pleasantly. Then he was sweeping my hair forward over that shoulder and turning my head the other way, tsking, "While this side," a kiss to said side, "is looking rather neglected. You're rather lopsided here and we can't have that, now can we?"

"No?" I breathed, shivering as I felt his lips graze over my skin, my hand drifting down to trail along his chest.

"Mm-mm. Why don't we see what we can do here to correct this oversight," he said, voice low as he began nibbling at my throat. I could feel him hooking a finger into where I had the blanket hugged to my torso, giving it a gentle tug and-

My door abruptly flew open for the third time. "Elsa! I need to talk to-" Anna - that's right, Anna - gasped from where she stood in the doorway now, slapping a hand over her eyes. Lea and I jerked apart, me clutching the comforter more fiercely to my body than ever. My sister parted her fingers for a peek, then snapped them back closed with a giggle. "Oo la la! You two really go the extra mile to sell this girlfriend-boyfriend act! You do remember calling the whole thing off yesterday though, right?"

Lea hung his head and sighed heavily while I scooted off the bed with an annoyed little growl. Keeping the blanket firmly wrapped around me like a misshapen, makeshift dress, I narrowed my eyes and marched over to her. "What are you doing here, Anna? Why didn't you just call?"

"Your phone's been-"

I snatched her hand down from where it was still covering her eyes, since I refused to hold a conversation with her while she looked so silly. She blinked a couple times before a tiny laugh bubbled out of her, "Oh hi!" I merely drooped my eyelids at her and she cleared her throat, expression hardening. "Your phone's been going straight to voicemail and this couldn't wait!"

That's right. My phone was still dead and I never got around to charging it last night. I'd been a little otherwise, ahem… preoccupied.

I pinched the bridge of my nose with an irritated huff. I didn't want to deal with this right now. Taking hold of Anna's shoulder, I spun her around and pushed her back towards my door, "Fine, then just... try calling me again later."

"What?! No, wait!" Her hands flew out to grab either side of the doorframe and she dug in her heels, bringing us both to a lurching stop. "Sis, I really, really need to talk to you!"

"Well I don't want to talk to you!" I snapped back, pressing my shoulder into her back and putting my full weight into trying to get her moving again. No dice. She wouldn't budge.

"Elsa, please!" she whirled around to face me once more, unleashing the full might of her devastating pout on me.

Fudge. I'd never been able to say no to those big, sad, puppy-dog eyes of hers.

I puffed out a small breath with a scowl. Then I grumbled, "Fine. Just give me a minute to get-"

Dressed.

That's the word I'd been about to say.

However, Anna's excited squeal cut me off and she grabbed my elbow, yanking me along with her as she ran out into the living room. I tried to resist, making a desperate grab for my doorknob but only succeeded in slamming the door shut behind me before it slipped free of my grip. Before I knew it, Hurricane Anna had plonked me down on one of the living room sofas with her flumping down beside me.

"Ugh, not you too," came Riku's groan from the kitchen.

Glancing over, I saw him standing next to a pan sizzling on a stove burner, one of his hands holding a large spatula while the other blurred up to clasp over his eyes. Rayne sniggered at him as she pulled something out of the fridge.

"Hey, I tried to change," I shot back before turning my accusatory gaze on my sister. She merely beamed and shrugged in response. Rolling my eyes, I primly adjusted my blanket-dress with as much dignity as I could muster to ensure I remained one hundred percent PG. My other hand went to my hair, which was still gathered forward over one shoulder, thankfully covering the Mother Hickey.

No need for Anna to spot that, thank you very much.

"Come on, hon, let's get you somewhere where you're free to see," Rayne snorted, relieving him of the spatula and taking his hand in hers so she could start guiding him towards their bedroom.

I shot Anna a dull stare now, waiting with a frown.

Her cue to begin.

"Alright, first of all, we're going to have to come back to that later," she waved a hand towards my bedroom door. "Because okay, wow!"

"I know, right?" Rayne chimed in with a laugh, not having quite reached her room yet. I fixed her with an unamused look and she winced. "Sorry," she whispered, returning all her focus on getting her temporarily blinded husband out of there.

Once they'd disappeared through their door, Anna sat up a little straighter, squared her shoulders, and tugged at her skirt, straightening out its wrinkles. Then she took a deep breath, "Right. Okay, where to begin… well, for starters, I did not - you hear me? Not," she reiterated, striking up a finger for emphasis, "suggest the whole you and Lea thing just to keep Mom and Dad from getting mad about the whole Hans and me thing."

I gave her a flat look, quirking a dubious eyebrow.

"I didn't! I swear I didn't! My actual reasons were threefold. Count 'em, three," she held up the matching number of fingers, wiggling them slightly. Then she ticked off the first one, "A, as I brought up yesterday, I figured having him backing you up would give you the courage to face Mom and Dad. B, I thought that big, scary, redheaded ox of a man would make Mom and Dad think twice before still trying to tell you what to do. Which, in hindsight, kinda backfired… but hey, was worth a shot at least, right?" she gave a nervous chuckle.

I did not laugh with her.

She cleared her throat and hastily pressed on, "And C, it was so obvious that you and Lea had the total friggin' mega hots for each other, so I thought I might play cupid and help that along a lil." Her eyes darted to my bedroom door again before she leaned in closer, waggling her eyebrows, "You're welcome, by the way."

Now I full on glowered at her.

Sense the tone, brat.

She gulped, pulling back again, eyes darting about as she fidgeted with her fingers. Then she huffed, "And fine, okay sure, did I realize you two playing lovebirds in front of Mom and Dad might keep some of the heat off of me and Hans? Yes, but that was more of a… an afterthought! Ya know, like… a nice lil perk on the side. Was it a perk I should have taken advantage of? No. Should I have figured out a different weekend to drop the Hans-bomb? Maybe. But-"

"Sorry, sorry!" Rayne suddenly popped back into the room, sneaking past us towards the kitchen. "Just don't want the bacon to burn. Pretend I'm not here."

Returning my attention to Anna, I saw her frowning, deep in thought and possibly trying to think up a different tactic here. Then she was opening her mouth again, "Look, Sis... he and I didn't mean for this to happen-"

I scoffed, "You said that already yesterday."

"No, let me finish! We didn't mean for it to happen, but it did and nothing can change that now. And you know what? I wouldn't want to change that. I am not sorry." I looked at her sharply and she swiftly amended, "I am sorry if it hurt you. So, so sorry, you have no idea! But I'm not sorry that it happened. You have to understand, he and I… Elsa, it's nothing like I've ever known before! It… it's like fireworks! It's amazing and magical and-"

"He who?" Rayne was suddenly next to us in the living room, making me jerk in surprise.

Jeez, I hadn't even heard her leave the kitchen!

Hand covering my rapid, startled heartbeat, I told her, "Hans. My ex."

"Oh…" the corners of her mouth turned down. Then a blink and a louder, "Oh!" Followed by her eyes narrowing on my sister with a disapproving, "Anna!"

"Fireworks, Ray-Ray! Fireworks!" she snapped back in her defense.

Shaking her head, Rayne directed my attention to what she was holding in her hands - a small bowl of mixed, sliced fruit. "To tide you over until the rest of the food is ready," she explained, depositing it onto the coffee table before making her way back over to the stove.

I stared blankly at the little snack, as if not quite sure what to do with it. Then my stomach gave another growl to remind me.

Oh yeah. That.

"The point," Anna steadfastly insisted, "is that we both know you didn't love him. But I-"

A derisive snort escaped me as I started poking through the fruit. "That is so not the point and you know it."

Her face pinched in annoyance and she spat out, "But I do!"

Snagging a grape, my brow furrowed. "...do what?"

"Love him!"

My eyes widened briefly, then I shot her a dull stare. "...you can't love a man you've just been dating a few weeks."

"And why not?" she glared at me as I popped the grape into my mouth. "You and Lea have been only pretending to date for a few weeks and you're in love with him!"

Cue choking on said grape.

Blasted things are hazardous to your health!

Face roasting as I banged a fist to my chest to dislodge the damn thing and let blessed oxygen back in again, I wheezed, "I'm not- We're not- I mean, it's just-"

"Oh please!" she rolled her eyes. "It's you, Elsa. You. You're the very definition of ice queen. You don't just go around having crazy wild monkey sex-"

"Oh my god, Anna!" I buried my face in my hands.

"Don't oh-my-god-Anna me! It's true! You don't! You never do this! So the only obvious conclusion is that you-"

I clamped a hand over her mouth, fixing her with a tiny scowl. Then I said calmly and evenly, "One, it is not the only conclusion. And two, this isn't about Lea and me. This is about you and Hans." I slowly started to lower my hand but when I saw her sucking in breath to go off once more, I quickly gagged her again. Then I shot her a warning look, silently demanding that she zip it. Her eyelids drooped and I took that as reluctant consent. Taking my hand back now, I looked to the bowl of fruit once more. Hm… maybe a banana slice? Yeah, that seemed less likely to murder me. Bending forward to reach for it, I went on, "Now I know you might think you two are in love, but-"

She abruptly gasped, "Holy friggin' cow, what's that?!"

Suppressing a groan at being interrupted, I grumbled, "What's what?"

"That! On your neck!" With a start, I realized some of my hair had slipped back behind me, no longer concealing the Mother Hickey. The monstrosity had broken loose to wreak its unholy havoc. Anna gaped in pure awe, "Damn, Sis, what was that boy trying to do to you? Draw blood, the friggin' vampire?"

"She liked it!" came Lea's voice suddenly as he exited my bedroom, shutting the door behind him with a smug grin.

Cheeks bursting into flames, I grabbed a raspberry to chuck at him for oversharing.

He caught it easily and sniggered. "Thanks, babe!" he chirped, tossing it up into the air before catching it in his mouth.

Then I looked at him. Really looked at him and came to a realization.

That jerk now had clothes on.

"Hey, no fair! How come he got to get dressed and I didn't?!" I snapped, hand balling more tightly into my blanket-dress in my continued effort to keep the thing together and in place.

Anna whined in frustration, "Sis, focus! We're talking about something important here!"

Says the girl who just got sidetracked by the Mother Hickey.

"Okay, maybe Hans and I haven't been dating for long," she began as out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lea poking about the living room in various places, searching for something. "But just like you, I grew up with him. We've known each other all our lives. I know him, Elsa. Really, really know him." At last he seemed to spot it - his leather jacket, which he snatched up now from wherever he'd tossed it last night. He came over to me and draped it around my shoulders, ducking down to brush a peck to my temple as he did so. "Know him and… and care about him. I actually feel like this has been a long time coming, Sis. That he and I were just meant to be. It's the kind of stuff that cheesy romcom flicks are made of, what everyone's singing about in all those sappy songs. Ya know… true love."

"Come on, Anna," I sighed as I tugged Lea's jacket closer, grateful for the added bit of coverage. Thumb idly running up and down the metal teeth of the zipper, I muttered, "Thought you outgrew fairytales a long time ago."

"What's with the shit-eating grin?" I heard Rayne asking Lea as he moved to join her in the kitchen.

He shrugged, plopping down into one of the dining chairs, "You'd have one too if El had just agreed to be your girlfriend."

"Oof, point taken."

"Fairytale or no, I love him," Anna said, drawing my focus back to her. "And he loves me! And I'm sorry that we went about it in the way wrong way and hurt you in the process. I really, truly am! But what's done is done. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness so soon, but I'm asking… hoping, really, that you'll still give it… because I need you right now, Elsa."

She reached out for my hand, squeezing it as her face fell as she momentarily paused. Then, "I need my big sis. Hans' parents… they're furious about all this. They didn't want their son with the second Fryse daughter, they wanted you. They're blowing a friggin' gasket, which is making Mom and Dad blow their own stupid gaskets too. Which is whatever, fine, I can take it… but not if you're mad at me too." She sniffled, eyes downcast and bottom lip quivering. "...I could really use you in my corner right now, Sis. Please."

I frowned at her, eyebrows knitting together and not saying anything right away. Then, "...you two… really love each other?"

"Oh my god, so much," she gave a weak wobble of a laugh, fingers swiping at the corner of her eye. "I love him with all of my heart and I know he feels the same way about me too."

I inhaled and exhaled softly. Then I covered her hand with mine. "Fine. I forgive you. And I'm here for you, whatever you need."

"Really?!" Anna cried out. I nodded and she broke out into a huge grin, eyes welling up even further to the point where tears escaped. Then she was tackling me in a hug that knocked the wind out of me. "Oh thank you, thank you! You're the bestest, most amazing, most beautiful big sis ever!"

Who was I to stand in the way of love?

True love, no less. Apparently.

As she pulled away, she was now a blubbering mess and I had to stifle a snort. She'd always been such an endearingly ugly cryer. Jamming the heel of her palm to her nose in an attempt to dam the flow of snot, she asked, "Can I take a minute or two to clean myself up in your bathroom?"

I gestured a hand towards the restroom door and she got up, starting to make her way over to it. "Anna," I said abruptly and she stopped in her tracks, glancing back over her shoulder at me. I hesitated briefly, gnawing on my lower lip and almost losing my nerve. But then finally I began, "Would you… that is, later, would you maybe like to…" my lips clamped shut. Oh gosh, I was getting so awkward over such a silly little question. Taking a steadying breath, I then braved a tiny smile for her, "...do you want to make some scotcheroos?"

...would she even remember?

She blinked. "You mean… as in like when we were…?" Then it seemed to click and her face did this funny thing were it both lit up and brimmed over with even more tears. "Yes! Yes, I'd like that very much! I… Just gimme a sec, I'll be right back!" Then she hastily disappeared into the bathroom, clicking the door shut behind her.

I jolted in surprise as Lea suddenly one-hand vaulted himself over the back of the couch, quick to take the seat next to me that Anna had just vacated. He gave me a toothy grin as he slung an arm around my shoulders, tugging me closer to him.

...okay, this was going to take some getting used to.

A couple weeks of fake dating had in no way prepared me for the real thing.

However, as I felt him pressing his lips to the top of my head and nuzzling his nose into my hair as he did so, I relaxed a bit into his side.

I might... enjoy getting used to this.

Now if only everything else could be so simple. In particular, my family-

"Oh gosh, my family!" I suddenly stiffened.

"Hm?" his hand rubbed up and down my arm outside the jacket. "What about them?"

I groaned, "I just finished telling them yesterday that you and I weren't dating. Now we have to tell them that we are."

Lea squinted up at the ceiling, pursing his lips to the left. "...do we though?"

"Yes! I mean, maybe not right now, but eventually."

His free hand came up to scratch the tip of his nose, then he smiled down at me. "Hey, lookit the bright side though. Now we don't have to explain any of this craziness to the mall or tell 'em we broke up or anything like that."

I fixed him with a deadpan look. "Not helping."

"Doesn't it though?"

I narrowed my eyes up at him. Then I relented with a small huff, "...okay, maybe a little."

"Can I come out yet?" came Riku's rather pathetic call from his bedroom.

"Not yet, she's still naked!" Rayne shouted back as she used her spatula to shift the eggs frying in the pan. In response, Riku made an annoyed noise that was half growl, half moan.

Reaching for a blueberry now, I asked her over my shoulder, "Hey, were you two out all night?"

"Mm-hm!" she hummed back chipperly.

"They were just walking through the front door when they happened upon me in the kitchen in nothing but the bed sheet," Lea supplied, biting into a strawberry.

Glancing her way, I cocked my head. "Where were you guys?"

"Riku surprised me with a romantic weekend getaway!" Rayne beamed, opening the fridge back up. "Speaking of, I noticed as I was dropping my bag off in the bedroom this morning that our room seemed to be a bit, er… tossed about." She wrinkled her nose, "I seriously doubt it, but you two didn't… you know... in there, right?"

My cheeks flared up. "Oh god, no! That was, um…" I cleared my throat, my fingers fiddling with the zipper clasp on the leather jacket, "...Lea was just looking for, uh… for protection."

Rayne glanced at him, eyelids drooping. "And you weren't packing any of that already, stud?"

His fingers ruffled his hair with a chuckle, "Stopped carrying anything like that on me a year ago when I called it quits with the ladies. Didn't want any excuses to give into temptation."

"Ah," she shook her head, stepping back over to the frying pan. Then her shoulders tensed and her head snapped up as a thought suddenly seemed to strike her. "Heh… you, er… didn't happen to find the, uh…"

"Pumpkin spice flavored condoms?" I said dryly and she twitched. "Yes, we did. And Rayne? You have a problem."

I felt Lea's whole body rumble with a laugh, "Yeah seriously, Raindrop, what the actual fuck?"

Turning several shades of deeper and deeper red, her eyes flicked nervously about. "S-someone gave them to me as a gag gift, I swear!" Yeah, wasn't buying it. Didn't help that Lea had found the box already opened. "You, uh… you two didn't actually… use those, right?"

"Heh… needs must when the Devil drives!" Lea snerked as I facepalmed.

Rayne silently squirmed where she stood for an uncomfortable moment as she poked the spatula at the eggs some more. Then, "...let's never speak of this again."

"Agreed," I gave a single, firm nod. Then I was standing up, slipping out of Lea's jacket and leaving it behind on the couch as I started heading towards my bedroom. "And on that awkward note, I think I'll go put clothes on."

"Lemme help ya!" Lea grinned, hopping up to his feet behind me. However, he didn't get very far.

"Ah-ah!" Rayne was suddenly beside him, snagging him by the ear. He gave a pained hiss through grit teeth as she yanked on it, forcing him to hunch down to her height so she could glare at him. "Getting clothes on that girl is the absolute furthest thing from your mind, bucko."

He clasped a hand to his chest in mock offense. "You insult me, madame! I promise I had only the purest, most honorable of intentions!" She stared at him blankly before pinching his earlobe harder, forcing a tiny yelp out of him. "Okay fine, my intentions may of been hovering, teetering towards the slightly dishonorable."

She sighed, "Need I remind you that that room is a future baby nursery?"

"And oh if those walls could talk, the stories they would tell your future bouncing bundle of joy."

Rayne scoffed, dragging him by the ear back towards the kitchen with him grunting the whole way. Shoving him down into one of the dining chairs, she snapped, "Now sit your ass down here and if you even think about taking so much as one step closer to her bedroom door, I'm gonna neuter you with this thing," she poked him in the nose with her spatula. "Capisce, loverboy?"

He held his hands up in surrender, "Capisce!"

I'd almost made it to my room when my stomach gurgled again. I swiftly made a u-turn and went back for the bowl of fruit, picking it up and carrying it back with me. For the road! As I ate a kiwi slice, Riku called out again, "Now can I come out?"

"Almost, Hon! She's heading for her door now," Rayne yelled back as she started taking plates out of the overhead cupboard, still maintaining a wary eye on Lea the whole time.

"Finally!"

However, I was only halfway across the living room when abruptly there was loud, frantic banging on the front door, nearly making me drop the whole bowl.

Ugh, now what?

"Elsa! Are you in there?" called a voice from the other side. A voice that made me stop dead in my tracks and whip around, wide eyed and cheeks bulging with fruit. More thunderous knocking. "Please answer the door, I have to see you!"

That… sounded like…

"...Hans?" I squeaked after choking my food down.

What on earth was he doing here?!

Lea's whole body went rigid as he quickly looked from me to the source of the hammering. Both eyebrows shot up Rayne's forehead. Then she was turning off the stove burner and wiping her hands on her blue plaid shorts as she made her way over to the door. She unlocked it and opened it a crack, politely but cautiously asking, "Hi, can I help y-"

Hans was suddenly shoving his way inside, pushing past her and shouting, "Elsa, where are you? We have to-" His eyes landed on me and he froze. Then determination seared across his eyes and he was marching towards me, "Elsa, I need to talk to you!"

I'd been hearing that an awful lot this morning.

I blinked, taking a step back and shaking my head, "Hans, what are you-"

That's when he finished closing the distance between us, grabbed me by the shoulders and brought his lips crashing down onto me. This time, I did drop the bowl, sending mixed fruit tumbling everywhere across the carpet. Rayne and Lea gawked at us.

I- Wha- Th- Huh-

Just what...

...the actual hell...

...was up with this friggin' morning?!

I mean, come on! More had happened to me in the past thirty minutes than usually happens to me on any normal given week!

And all while I was still wearing nothing but a stupid bedsheet, for crying out loud!

It took a split second for the shock to wear off, then I was scrabbling to wedge my arms between us, shoving him away and furiously scrubbing my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Oh hell fucking no!" Lea was on his feet in a heartbeat, green eyes flashing dangerously and face twisted into a snarl.

However Rayne stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Cool your jets, Red, and shush!"

"But-" he spluttered, apparently too outraged for words. Instead he settled for gesturing both hands angrily towards Hans with a growling huff. Rayne just struck up a warning finger at him.

Fingers abusing the fabric of my comforter as I clutched it to me desperately now, I frowned, "Hans, what is this? Why are you here? How did you even know where I live?"

His brow furrowed and he stepped closer as I hastily took another step back. "I asked your parents and they had Gerda give me the address. But that's not what's important right now. What's important is I want you back!"

Um… excuse me?!

Riku's voice once more came calling from beyond his bedroom door, "What's going on out there? Who's here?"

"Shush!" Rayne snapped back, eyes wide and unblinking so as not to miss a single second of the little soap opera now unfolding in her living room. "Things. Just. Got. Interesting!"

"But-" Riku tried again.

"I said shush, damnit!"

I just stared at Hans, jaw hanging open in disbelief. "...I'm sorry, you what?"

I must've misheard. Yeah, that had to be. It'd be the only thing that'd make any sense and-

"I want you back."

Nope. Heard him right the first time.

"Elsa, sweetheart, we were good together, right? I mean, we weren't perfect, but what couple is? We had a nice thing going though, didn't we? We belong together," he was saying now, his words soft and soothing as he started to reach for me once more.

I swatted his hands away and walked past him, away from him. Unfortunately he moved to follow, pursuing me around the room. "Hans, did you forget I left you at the altar?"

"And I'm willing to look past that!" He grabbed my elbow, making me stop and face him once more. "If I can put that behind us, then you should be able to too. Think about it, sweetheart. Things could go back to the way they were with us. We were happy, weren't we? We made sense!"

"But I don't want to marry you!" I snapped, jerking my arm free of his grasp.

How was he not getting this? Just… how?

He brought up hands in a placating gesture, "And that's fine, we don't have to get married! Not right away, anyway! It was too soon and you weren't ready, I understand that now. Getting married is not the important part. What matters is that we're together. I still care about you and after yesterday, I know that you still care about me too."

"...after yesterday?" Huh? I glared down at my crossed arms, thoroughly confused now. "...what about yesterday gave you that idea?"

"That whole little speech you gave your parents," Hans stated, as if it were obvious. "I could tell how sad and full of regret you were. Regret over breaking things off with me." Uh… what now? "I could tell you wanted me back, that you went through this whole ruse to pretend like you were okay about the way things ended between us, but you really weren't." I wasn't? That was certainly news to me. "I know you're worried you could never earn my trust back, but it's okay, sweetheart. I forgive you." ...gee, thanks? "I want you back. I need you back." He was reaching for me again, this time for my hand, "Please, if we can just-"

I wrenched my hand back, "Why are you saying all of this? You've never talked like this before. Why are you-" I inhaled sharply, suddenly hit with a thought. "...this isn't you… this is your parents talking through you, isn't it? What'd they do? Threaten to cut you off? Oh Hans, you can't just let them-"

"This isn't about them or anything they may or may not have threatened me with!" Translation: yes. Yes it was. "This is about us! This is-" His words abruptly stopped as he blinked, eyeing me up and down. "...are you wearing nothing but a blanket right now?"

Was Mr Perceptive just now realizing this?

Also, kill me. Kill me now.

"And what did you do to your neck?" he squinted, brushing my hair back off my shoulder.

And the cursed Mother Hickey strikes again!

Swear to god, I was going to friggin' kill Lea for giving me the dumb thing!

Hans gave himself a shake, face hardening. "Doesn't matter! What matters is," he snatched up both my hands now, clasping them together between his, "I love you, Elsa!"

...what was this day even?! I mean, seriously! I had absolutely zero clue what was even happening anymore!

However, his words sent a shock of a reminder through my system and my eyes darted over to the bathroom door, which Hans currently had his back to. Still closed. Still with Anna in there. What with the whirlwind the past five minutes had been, I'd all but forgotten she was still here. Oh gosh, could she hear all this?

Licking my dry lips, my gaze returned to Hans and I weakly shook my head. "You… you don't mean that. What about you and Anna? I thought you two were-"

"A mistake," he said firmly, his grasp around my hands tightening. "That's what we were. A mistake. You have to understand, sweetheart, I was… was hurt. And weak. I did something I'm not proud of. But it meant nothing to me, understand? Absolutely nothing! It's you, Elsa. It's always been you. You're the only woman for me."

"But Hans, she loves you!" I argued, wrestling my hands free of his. I could see the bathroom door behind him slowly beginning to creak open now.

He gave a derisive snort. "No she doesn't! She's just naive and thinks she does. Trust me, Anna will be fine. She'll get over it. Anyway, forget about her. The only thing I want to talk about right now is you and me."

My sister stood in the doorway, expression unreadable as she just stared silently at Hans' back. Oh Anna. Poor dear, sweet Anna. She wasn't like me. She didn't know how to guard her heart and not let people in. She wore her emotions on her sleeve. This was going to break her. What would she even say? What would she even do? How-

"YOU BASTARD!" she suddenly roared, charging towards him.

He whirled around with a startled, "Anna? Wha-"

She bodyslammed into him hard, sending them both crashing to the ground where she then proceeded to start royally whaling on him and calling him every nasty word under the sun while I and the rest of the room's onlookers just watched blankly.

...huh.

Apparently, that's what she'd say and do.

Welp. Guess that answered that.

Author's Note: Oh gosh, this really WAS a lot to happen to Elsa in the space of… yeah, 30 minutes sounds about right xD All with only that infernal bed sheet to keep her modesty intact! I just have too much fun torturing my precious awkward penguin, it's all done out of love, I swear xD Anyhoo *throws confetti and blares trumpets* it's official, Lea and Elsa are a couple for REAL this time, huzzah! Did anyone guess that Lea had actually been at the lantern festival? I dropped hints throughout the story, but dunno, maybe they were too subtle… or too obvious and just no one said anything to me xD Anyhoo, not much left to go now, just a lil bit of wrap up!

Next time, how will things unfold from here on out for our newly minted couple? Will Elsa EVER actually get to put on clothes? Will Riku EVER get to leave his own bedroom ever again? Just HOW deep does Rayne's pumpkin spice addiction really go? Is the Mother Hickey ACTUALLY proof that Lea is secretly a vampire? Will Anna LITERALLY get away with murder by the time she's through with Hans? Sorry, running on empty with questions at this point, got nothing but silly ones left for ya'll xD Anyway, stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Catch Me If You Can (31/40)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: I have no excuses for myself about the last chapter and the next few chapters other than this is what my evil brain came up with at the beginning and @resident-of-storybrooke has been yelling at me about this all since then 🙈 But this story is near and dear to my heart, and I’m very happy with it all! I think you guys will like the way it turns out ❤️

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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-/-

Bright light filters through the blinds covering the bedroom window, and just from the angle that it’s hitting her, Emma knows that she isn’t asleep at her apartment or at Killian’s. It takes her but a moment to remember that she is at Ruth’s, that she and Killian have been here for about twenty-four hours, and it is that thought that has her twisting in the bed in search for him only to find the other side of the mattress empty.

Damn.

She could have gone for them not getting up and leaving her room so early this morning after they had such a late nightlate -night last night.

Emma sighs, and snuggles a little further into her pillow as her mind convinces itself that just because Killian is out of bed doesn’t mean that she has to get out of bed. He’s a grown man. He can fend for himself downstairs with her family where she’s sure he and Ruth are having a fantastic time cooking breakfast for an army instead of six people.

Yesterday, even in her tired haze, was one of her favorite days in a long time. She wants to commit it all to memory – from the airport to Killian and Ruth cooking breakfast and getting along so well to Killian drawing her a picture of the lighthouse they visited with two little figures at the bottom that she knows are supposed to be the two of them.

He even signed it with a little number twenty-nine.

(She wants to take it home with her, but she thinks she’ll leave it taped to the wall here.)

That was…emotion chokes her up simply thinking about it. So much of her heart has been shown to Killian – the good, the bad, and the downright ugly – and yet telling him about why this room is so bare was like opening up an entirely different chamber of everything. Him drawing her that picture was so dumb and yet so damn sweet that she couldn’t actually form real words to thank him. Instead, she teased him, but she hopes that he knows that was simply her way of saying thank you for always being so considerate of her.

Killian knows her so damn well that she’s pretty confident that maybe he does actually know that without her having to say any of the words.

There’s a smile on her face as she rolls over on the bed toward the side that Killian slept on (it doesn’t matter how old she is – having a man sleep in the bed next to her at Ruth’s house felt weird as hell) and breathes in the warm scent of him before turning the alarm clock to the side so that she can see that it’s a little past nine thirty in the morning.

That was definitely not enough sleep considering how late they were up.

Everyone is likely awake and down in the kitchen either making breakfast or having already eaten it, and since Emma is sure that they’ve saved something for her, she gets out of bed and ruffles through her bag to find a pair of jeans and a light sweater and all of her shower stuff before walking into the bathroom and twisting the knob so that water starts to flow. This shower always takes so long to get warm water, something she hated as a teenager, and if Emma knew where her phone was at the moment, she’d turn on some music to have something to listen to. But the hot water comes quicker than she thought it would, and she steps into the shower and goes through washing her hair and her body, as well as shaving her legs even if she’s wearing jeans today.

They do have holes in them after all.

Emma runs through the list of things they were thinking about doing today – David seriously wants to go to a Sea Dogs game – just so that she can be prepared for the itemized list Mary Margaret has inevitably prepared and is waiting for her to go through.

Fifteen minutes later, when Emma is dressed and has her hair wrapped in a towel on her head, she walks out of her bedroom door and down the hallway until she’s walking down the stairs. Leo is laid out on the living room floor with Wilby watching cartoons, very obviously too engrossed to pay her any attention, so she ignores him and walks through the archway to the kitchen where everyone is sitting down at the table sitting in silence.

But awkward silence.

Like, the kind of silence that happens when she walks into a room and knows that everyone has been talking about her.

Has everyone been talking about her?

“Um, hey guys,” she starts slowly, ignoring the weird feeling in her gut and walking around the island to the coffee machine and grabbing a mug. She’s not sure how old this pot is, but it can’t be that old. “Have we had breakfast yet? Or do we want to go get something to eat?”

There’s silence as her answer, and Emma turns to look at everybody as they all stare down at their mugs like the world’s most interesting secrets reside there.

It’s…weird. Like, really weird, and worry is starting to whirl around in the pit of her stomach.

“Morning, love,” Killian starts as he scoots his chair back and stands from the chair, “why don’t we go sit outside for our coffee?”

“Um, okay. Does anyone want to join us?”

“Maybe in a few minutes,” Mary Margaret supplies, flashing her a reassuring smile that isn’t at all reassuring. “Ruth was going to talk to us about having Leo come spend his fall break with her.”

“Oh, okay, yeah.”

Emma grabs her cup of coffee just as Killian comes up behind her and places his hand on the small of her back to direct her out toward the set of French doors that lead out to Ruth’s back porch. As soon as they walk out, the sun is brightly shining down on them, enough that her eyes squint to try to adjust, and the air feels cool and crisp, almost like fall. She knows that it’s the middle of September, that fall is technically very soon, but it certainly hasn’t felt like fall weather back home.

Here, it does.

Looking out at the yard and how manicured it is after she and Killian helped Ruth yesterday, it almost makes her forget that something weird is most definitely going on with everybody, but only almost. She can practically feel the tenseness radiating from Killian’s fingertips, but nothing else about him gives any of it away.

“Did you sleep well, Swan?” Killian asks as she sits down in a rocking chair and pulls her knees up to her chest all the while Killian sits in the chair opposite her. Her towel is heavy on her head, so she takes it off and lets her loose hair fall down her back. “You were out like a rock this morning when I woke up.”

“I’m still – ” A yawn interrupts her, which seems very fitting, and it causes her eyes to water. She really needs the caffeine in this coffee to take effect immediately. “I’m still tired, but I think once I was out, I was out, you know?”

Killian’s lips are pressed together when he smiles, and that’s not the kind of smile she wants to see in the morning. She wants to see the wolfish grin, the one that looks almost dirty in nature, that makes Killian look like he’s absolutely, positively giddy to simply be sitting with her drinking coffee in the morning with no cares in the world.

She wants him to smile in the way that makes her want to kiss the smile off of his lips simply because she wants to taste some of that happiness.

“Good, good,” he sighs, and the slightest smile stretches across his lips. It’s almost the smile she wants. But only almost, and it has her free hand clutching for the chain around her neck as some kind of reassurance. It’s only been in her possession for two weeks, but clutching it has become enough of a habit that she realizes that it’s one. “When I woke up, my bloody arm felt like it was going to fall off because you’d been sleeping on it all night, which was refreshing that it only hurt because of you and not the tendons.”

Emma smiles into her coffee. “You have a very comfortable arm, and I was tired.”

“From all of the sex you said we couldn’t have?”

“Shut up,” Emma laughs, a bit of joy spreading over her skin. “You thought you were so funny making the bed squeak as you tried to get comfortable enough to go to sleep, and you were not funny.”

Killian circles his finger around her face. “Well, that is not what all of this laughter right now and the laughter from last night tells me. You were in stitches.”

“I was obviously delusional.”

“Obviously.”

Emma sighs and cocks her head to the side to look over at Killian over the top of her coffee mug. He hasn’t shaved this morning, his scruff fuller and darker than usual, and his hair is falling in his face so much that he keeps having to push it back. He needs another haircut, and knowing him, she’s sure that he has one scheduled for some time this week, probably after one of his physical therapy appointments.

Other than that, though, he looks exhausted. Absolutely exhausted. The bags underneath his eyes seem dark, his actual eyes red and a little puffy, and she swears there are lines there that weren’t there before.

“Killian,” she hesitantly starts, rocking forward to place her mug on the small glass table between them, “are you going to tell me what’s going on? It’s really freaking me out.”

His lips stretch into another smile, this one definitely kind of sad, as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear. That’s his nervous tick. She knows it is. And her lungs constrict so that it feels like she can’t even breathe.

“Aye, um…an article came out this morning. My scumbag of a father has apparently been in contact with your scumbag of an ex, and they did some kind of fucking tell-all interview about the truth about me and my life and how I’m nothing but a fake humanitarian who doesn’t care about the charities I support because how could I care about strangers when I don’t even care about my own father?”

Shit.

Emma heard the words. She did. But it’s kind of difficult to wrap her brain around them. That’s just…that’s a lot to take in, and her mind seems to be fighting between feeling distraught for Killian and angry at Walsh. Because she knows that it’s Walsh who wrote the article. It wouldn’t be Neal. He is probably too busy conning some other woman to fall in love with him.

“Killian, I’m so sorry.” It’s all she knows to say right now, before she even gets the full extent of the information. “I haven’t read the article, but you’ve got to know that everything in it isn’t true. Your father has used you your entire life, and he’s still trying to use you by using your name to make money. He’s the awful person. Not you.”

“I don’t know. I feel pretty shitty sometimes.”

“Stop that.”

“I know, Swan, but I – ”

She holds her hand up and stands from the rocking chair to walk over to Killian and squat down in front of him, threading their fingers together and placing her hands in his lap while her thumbs caress his knuckles. She’s fuming for him, but she has to be calm. She has to let him process this. It won’t help if she’s angry too.

At least, she doesn’t think.

How does someone deal with their boyfriend’s estranged dad saying shitty things about them?

“Brennan is a bad person, Killian. You’ve told me all of the stories about him. I’ve seen how he still affects you and Liam even though it’s been a decade since you’ve talked to him. He’s not crying out to you by giving Walsh some kind of dumbass interview. He’s using you for the money it’s going to get him. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that that we don’t get to pick our parents. Sometimes we’re simply stuck with shitty ones.”

Killian nods his head at the same time that he squeezes their hands. “I know, love. I know. And I’m…I’m devastated over something that is so personal to me being released into the world. My father is a prick. I’ve always known that. But I’m fucking furious at the entire article, and I…Walsh told the world that we’re dating, Emma. Everyone knows.”

“W-what?” she questions, her brain not quite catching up with the words there. “What are you talking about?”

Killian sighs and releases her hand so that he can pull out his phone from his pocket before swiping with his thumb a few times and handing it over to her, an article pulled up on some ridiculous blog site attributed to Walsh. Of course he would be coward enough to not publish through ESPN even though he’s paid to do that.

It’s probably because this article is most likely libel. It has to be. All of the shit about his father is false, and knowing Walsh, he’ll take it a step too far.

Killian Jones.

The name rings familiar with any fan of professional baseball, especially those who are fans of the New York Yankees. He’s their star pitcher, the young gun who was hailed as the man who would bring New York another World Series, and he did just that at the end of the 2018 season after being a part of the team for six years.

Everyone thought he would do it again this year until his unfortunate injury against the Rangers.

And while I could go on and on about Killian Jones, the infamous number twenty-nine, and his great statistics, that’s a story that has been told time and time again. What hasn’t been told is the story behind the man. Who better to talk about a player than that player’s father?

Three weeks ago, Brennan Jones contacted me after I had put out some feelers to get in touch with him, and we had a nice chat over a cup of coffee that allowed me to delve a little more into what exactly makes Jones tick. What I found was interesting.

Everyone knows Jones as a good guy, as the one who signs autographs for kids and volunteers at a soup kitchen at least twice a month. His public relations team is incredible because when you think of the Yankees now, the face you see is his. Yet, just a few years ago that was not the case. Three years ago, Jones was better known for being seen in a bar with a different woman by his side every night. He became famous for his conquests, for his faulty, short-lived relationships, and while that could be seen as simply a young man with more money than he knows what to do with living his best life, Killian Jones has a history of short-lived relationships.

His father is the main example of this.

Brennan shared with me that he spent all of his life in search of supporting his sons. After losing his wife to a strong-fought cancer battle when Killian was nine-years-old and his older son Liam was seventeen, Brennan started to work more and longer shifts to support his children, especially since Killian had the American dream of being a baseball player. Parents of athletes give up so much, make more sacrifices than the average family, and Brennan Jones is a prime example of a father doing just that. All he ever wanted was to support his children in their dreams.

However, after Killian started to play at Vanderbilt and had a real possibility of going pro, he cut his father off and has yet to talk to him since despite numerous attempts made by Brennan to try to have a relationship with his son. Brennan claims that there is no clear reason as to why his children no longer talk to him, and as sad as it makes him, he does believe that it is because Killian does not want to share any of his earnings with Brennan even though the senior Mr. Jones has never asked for a dime from his son.

All he wants is a relationship. Nothing more. How could anyone deny a father something as simple as that?

Alone, this doesn’t seem like much. Many children have bad relationships with their parents, but I believe that Jones has a consistent history of unethical or questionable behavior that is hidden behind shiny teeth and a clean uniform.

1) Cutting off his father.

2) An affair with a married woman.

3) His partying days.

4) The boat accident where he was cleared of all fault immediately despite there being alcohol involved.

5) His hidden rotator cuff injury – a detrimental lie to his teammates, his managers, and his fans.

6) Dating Emma Swan.

Oh yes, we all remember after the World Series when Killian asked out reporter Emma Swan, correct? That was quite the misogynistic move on his part. She’d said no, which is well documented, but as can be seen in the pictures below, they have been involved in a romantic relationship for quite some time. Perhaps they were involved in a relationship at the time of the World Series and it was all a publicity stunt to allow Ms. Swan to jumpstart her career. She’s had a banner year this year when it comes to her social media following and her time on camera. She was even able to commentate a full game. None of this was on her career trajectory before last year.

It’s funny how things like that work out.

It’s also funny how the good guy, in this case Killian Jones, can simply be the villain hidden under a baseball cap.

For inquiries to Brennan Jones, his contact information is available in the link below.

Holy shit.

Son of a bitch.

Emma’s hands shake while her eyes keep skimming back and forth over the words and the pictures. Her life is very much on display here, and she hates it. She hates that Walsh is obviously targeting Killian because of her, and she hates that the man still has the ability to knock the breath out of her lungs by making her feel useless and worthless and like nothing more than a young girl who doesn’t deserve anything that she has.

He’s a fucking bastard.

Her legs tremble beneath her, and she has to stand from the squatting position. She has to stand and walk away, down the back-porch steps, and into the yard so that maybe the fresh air around her will have an easier time reaching her lungs.

She really needs to be able to breathe right now.

She can’t breathe.

All of her fears are coming to life. Every single one of them. Yet again, Emma is being told that she doesn’t deserve her career or any of her accomplishments. Every minute of hard work is being attributed to someone else, and even if it’s not true, even if it’s all simply the words of a small-minded man who is trying to hurt her, she already knows that everything is about to blow up again.

Two steps forward. Ten steps back.

And she didn’t even take any of those ten steps. They were all forced upon her.

And shit. She’s an awful person and an awful girlfriend because here she is having a meltdown in the middle of Ruth’s backyard over how this is all going for her when nearly every low point in Killian’s life has been summarized in an itemized list and put out there for complete and total strangers to see.

She can’t even imagine what’s going through his head right now. This isn’t supposed to be another low point for Killian. He’s already out on injury, and he’s told her and himself time and time again that this won’t be like last time. He won’t fall into the dark hole.

But he might very well be pushed.

Yet, here he is putting Emma and her feelings above himself again because that’s what Killian does every damn time. He’s probably killing himself thinking this is all his fault when it’s not.

It’s hers.

Walsh did this because he still has some kind of vendetta against Emma. He did it to hurt her, and he did. He’s hurt her because he’s yet again hurt her career, but he’s mostly hurt her because he’s devasted Killian.

If she gets the chance to slap him, she’s not holding back.

Turning on her heel so that the soft grass brushes over her skin, Emma immediately walks back toward the porch, jogging a bit and placing Killian’s phone in her back pocket before walking back up to him. He’s leaning forward with his face pressed into his hands and his elbows on his knees, very obviously distraught.

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he mutters, shaking his head back and forth. “I’m so damn sorry. I’ve done nothing but fuck up your life.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” she soothes. Emma grabs his hands and tugs him up from the chair before wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he does the same. She can feel his nose pressing into the side of her neck, his entire face buried there, and she doesn’t know if she’s ever felt so small against his frame than she does right now. “You have not fucked up my life, and I’m the one who is sorry. This is because of me.”

Killian shakes his head and hugs her tighter. It should be another thing to take the breath away from her, but it doesn’t. If anything, it gives her the air she’s been searching for.

Then, though, Killian is pulling back, just a little, and suddenly she can see the blue of his eyes and the sadness that resides there. They’re not the sparkling blue that she wants. Not at all.

“It’s my job,” Killian starts with a crooked smile on his face, “at least I hope it’s my job, to protect your heart. I have failed here. You can’t deny that.”

Emma’s hand moves from the back of Killian’s neck to trail down his chest and rest right at his heart. “You have not failed. You didn’t do any of this to me. And if it’s your job to protect my heart…well, let me do the same to you. Killian, this can’t be a good feeling for you. It’s got to be bringing up all kinds of emotions about your dad and Milah and the past you’re trying to put behind you. Just because I’m freaking the hell out doesn’t mean that you drop all of your feelings to be supportive of me. That’s…that’s not how we work, remember?”

“Aye, I know. I’m just – I’ve been up for awhile, love. I’ve had…I’ve had time to process. I sat in silence with Dave for an hour and then had to call Liam and Elsa and…I hate my dad so much. I h-hate…”

And for the first time in all of the years that Emma has known Killian, even with all of the emotions that come with sports, she sees a tear fall from Killian’s eye. It’s not much, just a single tear rolling down his cheek to mark the skin there, and yet it breaks her to the point that she can do nothing more than continue to hold him and whisper that it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.

She doesn’t actually know that, but it seems like the right thing to say.

Life is so damn unfair sometimes that someone with such a good heart can have it shattered like this.

They stay standing on that back porch surrounded by the low whistle of the wind and the songs of birds for minutes that she doesn’t count. There’s no need to as her hand moves up and down Killian’s back while he simply tries to start breathing again. At some point, his lips start moving against her neck, his mouth and his teeth working in desperation, before his lips find her jaw then her cheek then her own mouth. He tastes like bitter coffee, which is most likely appropriate for the situation, and even though the kiss is sorrowing, she doesn’t stop him.

Emma gets it. Sometimes all that anyone needs is to feel the comfort of something familiar and sure and entirely theirs.

Maybe she’s a little desperate for his touch too.

But then Killian is mumbling something about wanting to go take a nap and needing a bit of time alone, and after she asks him if he’s sure, they both go inside where everyone is still sitting in the kitchen. She imagines they’ve been watching them the entire time. Mary Margaret asks if everything is okay, Killian nods at her before walking through the living room and heading upstairs, the steps creaking under his weight.

“You know what,” Ruth starts as she stands from the table and brushes her hands over her pants, “I think I’m going to take Leo out to get some ice cream and maybe go to the park. I’ll bring everyone something back. Emma, dear, what flavor does Killian like?”

“Um, strawberry, especially if it has actual strawberries in it. Or really anything fruit-related. But definitely not chocolate.”

“Got it. Leo and I will be on the lookout for ice cream for everybody.”

“Should I,” Mary Margaret starts, her eyes darting between all of them. “Do you want me to come with you, Ruth?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “You guys can just say that you’re going to leave to leave me here with David because he’s better at dealing with emotional fallouts.”

Mary Margaret blushes, her pale skin lighting up with red, but she doesn’t deny it. What she does is move forward and hug Emma, squeezing her a little too tightly. “I love you. I’m sorry that you dated a fucking asshole who is still trying to make you miserable despite the fact that he is the reason your relationship dissolved.”

“That’s some nasty language from you, Marg.”

“Yeah, well, he deserves it. Always has.”

Emma chuckles and leans into Mary Margaret a little bit more. “I love you too, by the way.”

“I know,” Mary Margaret sighs. “David is ready to go to hell for the two of you. Walsh isn’t going to have a job much longer if he has anything to say about it.”

She has a million words to say to that, but she doesn’t say any of them. She simply nods and releases Mary Margaret before stepping over to the fridge to get some water. She’s suddenly very thirsty, and she just know that she’s going to need something to fiddle with while she talks to David who is still furiously typing on his laptop probably cursing out several figureheads and managers and anyone else who dares pick up this story.

Emma is almost scared to know how widespread it’s gotten. She still doesn’t know where her phone is.

So, taking her bottle of water, she slowly steps back over to the kitchen table and settles across from David, pulling one leg up to cradle to her chest while the other dangles on the floor. He hasn’t looked at her, and that makes Emma’s chest absolutely ache.

“You okay, kid?” he asks, still not looking up.

“You haven’t called me kid in what feels like forever.”

The keys on his laptop continue to click for a moment before he’s closing the laptop and looking up at her with a wry smile. “It’s this place. It makes me think of you that way.”

Emma arches her brow. “It’s also because my life is kind of falling apart again, right?”

“Your life is not falling apart. I just – is all of the stuff in the article true? I know the things about his dad aren’t. He told me this morning all about it, but I…did you know about everything? You haven’t – he hasn’t hidden all of this from you, right?”

“No. God, no.” Her finger clutch at the ring, holding it tightly to her chest, and she notices David’s eyes flickering down toward it. “It was his mom’s,” she explains, watching the light glint off the silver and the small bits of sapphire. “It’s what he always used to wear, you know? He gave it to me before I commentated as a reminder that he’d be there cheering me on even if he was out on the field, and I guess…I guess he wants me to keep it now.”

David’s lips stretch into a small smile, even if she can still see little glints of anger and confusion residing in his eyes. Much like Killian, he looks exhausted and older and all-around done with everything having to do with today.

“That man loves you a hell of a lot, Emma,” he murmurs on a sigh while his eyes don’t leave hers. “It’s almost jarring to me because how he talks about you and looks at your and treats you reminds me so much of how I am with Mary Margaret. I’ve never…you’ve always deserved this really big love that was also a good love, and I didn’t want to admit it at first, but I think that’s going to be Killian.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

She bites her bottom lip and nods her head all the while her fingers mess with the little paper label on the bottle. “Yeah, I mean, saying things like that out loud terrify me because I’m so used to things going wrong. This morning is a prime example of that. But as much as I’m angry and upset and feel like I can’t even breathe over the thought of what this is going to do to me, I’m absolutely furious at what it’s doing to Killian. All of the low points in his life that he’s trying to erase are just…they’re there. Anyone with internet access can read about them, and you just know that this isn’t going to be the only article. It’s going to be everywhere. Walsh had to have known that when he set out to do this. He even gave out contact information for Brennan. Killian’s upstairs right now freaking the hell out, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I’m trying to handle this. God, I’m trying to keep it from getting big, but none of it is working. My phone won’t stop ringing from my email. Ruby has called me ten times because she can’t get ahold of you or Killian.”

“I don’t know where my phone is. It’s probably on the floor underneath my bed or something.”

David waves her away, and suddenly her throat feels dry enough that she needs to take a sip of her water. A huge sip. “I told her you’d call her when you can.” David sighs, and his shoulders deflate. “This isn’t going to be easy on either of you. It’s going to be worse for you at work. Killian is going to have even more focus on him than he has on him right now. Your lives are very much exposed, and that makes you vulnerable. I fucking hate that coward of a man for doing this to the two of you. Has he not hurt you enough?”

Emma shrugs, all of the feelings inside of her kind of going numb. “He always hated any time that I had success. He always hated that you were around to help me. It doesn’t surprise me that Walsh did this. What surprises me is that he was able to learn about any of this. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, so that just doesn’t make sense to me. And, like, how is it that only he had these pictures of us? Why had no one else released them? How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. Killian is obviously a well-known guy but only in a small sector of the sports world. It’s not like he’s a household name. People are watching, as you know, but in hallways in the stadium and in airports so early in the mornings. That almost seems targeted.”

“Knowing, Walsh, it probably was. Such an asshole. Why didn’t you go into overprotective big brother mode when it came to me dating him?”

“You never would have listened to me,” David laughs, and it’s the first time that she’s felt a little bit light-hearted since she woke up this morning and looked at the little piece of artwork that Killian drew for her. “You were stubborn as hell.”

“Oh, and I’m not now?”

“You are.” David flashes her a grin. “Just a little more willing to listen now.”

Emma chuckles, but that little spark of joy has gone out because her thoughts have returned to Killian and how he must be feeling sitting upstairs in her childhood bedroom all alone.

What a morning.

She doesn’t even know what time it is.

“I don’t know how to help him, David,” Emma whispers, hoping that saying the words will somehow help her come up with some kind of magic solution. “I’m not good at this kind of stuff. How do you help someone who is hurting like he is?”

“You have got to stop saying you aren’t good at this stuff because you are. You have a lot of people who love you because you know how to connect with people, even if it takes some time. And looking at how the two of you interact, I know you know how to help Killian. All he wants is you to be there for you because I’m guessing half of his hurt stems from him being worried about you.”

“Yeah, probably.”

David tilts his head toward the staircase. “SoSo, go upstairs and simply sit with him for a little while? Don’t force conversation. Just…be you. I’m really sorry, sweetheart. The two of you don’t deserve this.”

“We don’t,” Emma confirms. “Killian really doesn’t. No one should have to deal with having their past thrown back in their face like that. No one should have shitty parents like that. It almost makes me not knowing mine seem like a good thing.”

“Emma.”

“I know, I know. Sadistic joke.” She reaches down and takes a sip of her water before standing up. “That’s a can of worms for another day. I’m going to go sit with Killian. Tell us when the ice cream gets here.”

“Nah,” David sighs. “I think I’m going to eat your bowl myself.”

Emma flicks him in the back of the neck in response before walking out of the kitchen and making her way up the stairs, avoiding the little creaks that she knows are in certain steps. It’s a force of habit from days of not wanting her presence to be known in this house, and even if she doesn’t mind that now, she still watches her step.

Her bedroom door when she reaches it, and Killian is stretched out of the mattress, the comforter laying low around his hips. He’s showered, his hair obviously still damp, and changed clothes, and she thinks from the subtle rising and falling of his chest that he’s asleep. Killian looks peaceful, all of the stress from his body gone and the lines on his face having fallen away. It’s almost enough to have her turn around and walk away, but selfishly, Emma kind of wants to hold him at this moment simply to feel the heat of his body against hers.

Slowly, she climbs into bed, making sure not to jostle the mattress too much, before tucking her foot in between Killian’s legs, wrapping her arm around his waist, and nuzzling her head into the crook of his shoulder. She thinks she’s made it without disturbing him, but then his right arm is moving underneath her until his hand is on her waist and she can feel the coarse bristles of his scruff moving against her forehead where he’s laying a kiss there.

Emma’s breath catches in her throat, and she wonders if he has any idea the effect that he has on her in little moments like this. The smallest of touches and affections mean so much to her, and he seems to do them all without thinking. It’s all so natural to him.

“I wasn’t asleep,” Killian mumbles into her skin again before moving and slight shifting them so that they’re better aligned. “I was damn well trying, but I wasn’t asleep.”

“I’m sorry.”

He hums, the vibrations moving through his chest so that she can feel it. “Don’t be. How is everyone downstairs?”

“Everybody but David went to get ice cream. They’re going to bring us some back.”

“That’s nice of them.”

“Well, they were all leaving the house because David was going to talk to me. I think they assumed I was going to have some kind of breakdown.”

His warm breath ghosts over her skin. “Did you?”

Her hand scratches against Killian’s stomach, pulling his shirt up so that her nails can move through the dark patches of hair all the while Killian’s fingers keeping moving against her back like they always do, tracing words that she knows by heart now.

“No. We just…we talked about a lot of the same things you and I did. I’m obviously hurt and scared for me, but I don’t think I’m going to know how bad it is until I go back to work on Monday. I’m mostly upset for you though. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“I’ll be fine, my love.” He punctuates the words with a squeeze of her hips another kiss to her temple. “I promise.”

“Do you need me to do anything?”

She can feel the shake of his head from side to side by the way that his whiskers tickle her skin, and he doesn’t say anything else after that. SoSo, Emma simply does what David told her to do. She’s there for Killian, sitting in the silence, and she steadies the thoughts in her mind by the consistent heartbeat underneath her ear and the sturdy up and down of Killian’s chest once more.

In no way is she sure that she’s helping, but if this is all Killian needs from her, this is what she can do.

She loves him, and she’d do anything to make him happy.

Minutes later, she has no idea how many, the front door audibly opens and then closes, bringing in the sound of happy voices chatting away and talking like everything is normal. To everyone else, it kind of is, and even though there is ice cream downstairs, Emma is fine to stay up here. But Killian insists that they get up and go downstairs, and he practically forces her out of her bedroom until they are down in the living room with cups of slightly melted ice cream in their hand.

He’s still reserved, his voice and smile not quite right, but Emma can tell that Killian doesn’t want to mess up this weekend she has with her family. He wouldn’t, no matter what, and she’d tell him that if he would listen.

Today probably isn’t going to be a day where he listens.

After they’ve eaten their ice cream, her brain a little frozen, Leo asks Killian if he’ll play catch with him outside. Almost everyone jumps on that saying Killian’s arm is hurt, but he shakes his head and insists that he’s fine enough to toss a ball back and forth with Leo. It’s a sweet gesture, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone.

Emma snaps a picture of it on her phone, wanting to preserve some good memories from this weekend too. There’s still goodness.

“That’s a good one you’ve got there, honey,” Ruth sighs as she rocks in the chair next to Emma. “I’m so happy that you’ve found a little slice of happiness with him.”

Emma reaches over to place her palm over Ruth’s knuckles. “He is a good one. He’s just got to believe it.”

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan

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pi-cat000 · 4 years

Text

MSA time travel idea (part 36)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25 Lewis POV 3, Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5

Part 37: Here

Content Warning: (chapters got some light descriptions of blood right out of the gate. So watch out for that.)

Mystery POV:

Blood splatters, leaving a long trail which arcs in a circle around him. Mystery flings Lewis’s arm, now containing the cursed abomination, across the ground. It bounces twice, skidding to a stop several feet away. He bares his teeth, snarling, fanning out his tails so he occupies as much space as physically possible. It is a warning to anything that would dare challenge him. The forsaken creature twitches and spasms pathetically, helpless without a proper host. Only his sworn oath not to pursue holds Mystery back from ripping it into smaller chunks and burying it in the desert.

The disembodied limb flips itself upright and, at the centre of its palm, is one green eye marred with gold flecks. Lighting flashes accompanied by rolling thunder which amplifies his growls so they shake the ground as his anger grows. When he concentrates, he can feel water collecting in the clouds, the static in the air and the arid land, anticipating rain. Mystery cannot channel the full might of the storm, that is beyond him, but he can still funnel some of its latent natural energy into the space around him. The air crackles.

Rightfully, the creature inhabiting Lewis’s arm immediately about-faces and scuttles off, disappearing behind a low-growing shrub. Oh, how he longs to give chase and punish it for threatening what is his.

“My…Mystery?”

Vivi’s voice pierces his rage, slicing it apart like a knife. Mystery tears his attention away from the challenger, looking over his shoulder. Vivi's eyes are wide, face pale, breath shallow and rapid. Lewis is unconscious, blood pooling under him. The human’s aura dims as his body fails, connection to the physical world weakening.

“Help me.”

If there were ever a moment that Mystery had felt true shame, this would it. Hastily, Mystery spits the blood collecting at the back of his throat onto the concrete. It tastes like iron and broken promises, conjuring unpleasant memories. He is beside Vivi in one elongated jump, examining both Lewis and Arthur. Both are dying, Lewis faster than Arthur. In his attempt to save the human, he may have inadvertently hastened his death.

/I am here./ Mystery reassures even as he desperately sifts through several centuries worth of memories and experience for a solution. Healing others and repairing damage had never been skills under his preview. Healing was the domain of different, more benevolent, entities. Ask him to erect a protective ward or cast an illusion and he could do so in a heartbeat, but foxes weren’t healers.

Vivi is now breathing hard, glancing from where she is holding Arthur and over to Lewis, lying prone. Dying.

No. Not good enough. Perhaps a spell to slow decay and put both humans into a stasis state would work. Once upon a time, he had held enough power to speed or slow the growth of whole rice fields, matching them to weather patterns. Acres upon acres grew or failed at his command. He hasn’t been able to call on that ability since his oath to the Yukino family replaced his oath to Inari. But…he knows the theory behind that sort of time-based magic, and even without divine help, he should be able to accomplish something similar on a smaller scale. It would just require personal sacrifice.

He glances back at his seven tails. The physical manifestation of his skill and experience. One tail for each human should do it. Two hundred years’ all up. Mystery has never willingly given one up, let alone two tails at once…but it would be more than adequate payment for the ritual he wants to perform. A spell to extend their lives by slowing decay.

Why is he even hesitating?

/ I will save them./

Carefully, he reaches for the intricate web natural energy which makes up the living world, feeding in his own power. Behind him, his tails still, then sway in a very particular pattern, weaving a dome-like structure which tightens around Lewis and Arthur.

Time slows.

So focused is he on the task, that he barely hears the car pull up or see how the area around him lightens in its headlamps. It is not until Vivi speaks, voice scratchy, that he registers a second presence.

“Dad…”

Touma Yukino drops beside him, flustered yet determined. Mystery has never been gladder for the human’s presence. In this trance-like state, both Yukino’s glow a bright, fluorescent blue. They seem to be moving doubly fast now that Mystery has detached himself from the regular flow of time.

“You’re doing fine honey. Keep holding that down,” Touma says. More footsteps and louder panicked voices sound behind him.

“…heard gunshots? What’s happening?”

“I need the lights on.” Touma yells, “Quickly!”

The building’s lights flicker on and there is a low gasp and more commotion. Mystery closes his eyes and concentrates, attempting to block out the humans panicking and yelling.

“No…keep the girls inside…bring the medical kit.”

Alongside the yelling is the scent of fear, thick, almost overwhelming now Lewis’s parental figures have joined in assisting Touma.

“Lewis…calling the hospital… need an air-lift...only way…”

The sounds fade. All the chaos drops away becoming a soft silence. Mystery inhales and exhales, opening his eyes to examine the faint transparent outlines of Arthur and Lewis’s auras, no longer weakening.

“I was beginning to think I would fade to nothing before I had this chance to talk.”

The oddly familiar voice comes suddenly, causing circular wrinkles to form mid-air. Mystery’s eyes dart up, searching for the source. The sound disperses, ripping away in all directions. He cannot move far while in the middle of this sort of ritual. If he is interrupted now, the consequences would be catastrophic.

“Over here.” The air shimmers and a second Kitsune, wearing a set of eye-glasses and sporting suspiciously familiar black and red fur, appears. Judging by the human’s lack of reaction, Mystery is the only one to see it.

/This is a trick./ He growls, suspicious of the creature mirroring his appearance. /What is your business here?/

His snarled question is met with a dismissive tail wave. A single tail wave. This Kitsune only has one. “Only to give a warning, late as it may be.”

The other fox flickers, losing transparency, like it is not wholly there. The very act of speaking seems to be weakening it.

“In my timeline, between now and two years into the future, Lewis, Arthur and Vivi die. It was, in no small part, due to my inaction. With help, I sort to send Arthur’s soul along with this echo to act as a guide. I had hoped to avert the disaster. I thought my death would be payment enough for this transgression against the Natural Order. “

Mystery narrows his eyes. /Arthur’s aura./ He interrupts, /That was you. What did you do?/

“Mid-way through attempting to merge the older and younger soul I was interrupted. I am sorry.”

Before Mystery can snap another insult the other continues, “When I initiated the ritual someone or something intervened and I was trapped, helpless, watching history repeat itself. It is just as well that Arthur and Lewis’s fates are not solely reliant on my ability to act or everything would have all been for naught.” It looks somewhat reproachful now, fading so it is barely visible.

“Shiromori is coming and I fear that, in reversing time, I have put you all in greater danger. But ..." Now there is a clear note of hope in the other's voice, "at least I have managed to give this warning. Protect them and do not make the same mistakes I did.”

The echo disappears completely, leaving Mystery cold with fear.

When Mystery completes his stasis spell, he immediately shifts to his dog form. Even the small transformation leaves him wholly exhausted. He feels the fatigue in his bones, and in his head, fuzzy and distracting. Quickly, he staggers out of view, so he does not accidentally trip one of the many humans who arrive and begin to prepare Lewis and Arthur for transport. The loss of two tails, two hundred years’ worth of experience, is disorientating. It is like having his insides scooped out and replaced with empty space. His memories swim around, disjointed, as he attempts to stitch them together. He hopes he has not lost anything too important but only time would tell.

Uncomfortably woozy and lightheaded, his thoughts turn to the warning.

The other Kitsune had talked of an alternate future and oncoming danger. Fretfully, he scans the horizon. All he sees are clouds and a wall of rain coming towards him from across the desert. The taint left behind by the demonic abomination is faint. Most likely, it is attempting to put as much distance between itself and Mystery before sunrise. As it should. Mystery growls. There is one final flash of lightning and the downpour reaches him, falling in a thick sheet, drenching him in seconds. A wind picks up, turning the droplets into tiny needles.

Shiromori cannot have escaped her seal. It was guarded by the Yukino main family. Touma would have heard word of it breaking and informed him. Surely, this was a trick or a trap. No sane creature went against the Natural Order.

Mystery tries to shake the image of the faded Kitsune, painfully weak, its single tail curled over its paws. The creature had spoken like someone mourning the loss of a loved one. His kind are not meant to love. Mystery stares down at his dog paws and his vision blurs, water running into his eyes. He feels himself shiver, growing cold. This form had always been one of his weaker ones. A poor choice of disguise. He blinks the exhaustion away, staggering to his feet, having to brace all four paws.

Vivi. He should find Vivi. He owes her an apology and an explanation. Whatever otherworldly dangers may be approaching, it was useless to fret without properly examining Arthur first. He could start panicking once he had confirmed the existence of time-travel.

Slowly, he trots around to the door of the Pepper’s diner. Whereas moments prior the driveway had been alive with commotion, it is now empty. All that is left of the evening’s chaos are two puddles of blood being quickly washed away. Would Vivi still be here? She might have followed Lewis and Arthur to the hospital. He sniffs, and finding the rain too heavy, searches his connection to the Yukino family.

Vivi is, indeed, inside the diner. He scratches at the door, hoping to be let in.

Vivi answers, looking down at him with a blank expression. Then she turns and walks away. Silent. Mystery waits for a beat before following, shouldering the door closed to shut the rain behind him. The many times he has been in this building, it has always been awash with colour and activity. He could barely walk two steps without getting petted and pulled in various directions by Lewis’s younger relatives. Not that Mystery had minded, the younger ones always reminded him of when Vivi was small and would follow him around attempting to grab his tail. Concerned by the room’s unnatural stillness, he listens. Several feet away he can hear the mummer voices belonging to the Pepper patriarch and the three smaller humans.

Satisfied that the family seams safe, he continues into the next room. Vivi has moved to sit on the large family-sized couch. She is balled up in one corner, knees drawn to her chest. Before her, resting on the low coffee table, is a cup of flowery tea with steam slowly rising above it. Her clothes are clean, and her hair is damp, smelling of soap and shampoo. From his position of the floor, in spite of the rooms low lighting, Mystery can make out how the skin on her hands and face is red like she’s scrubbed them a little too hard.

/Arthur and Lewis?/ Mystery asks, because, after setting his spell in motion, he had been too tired to see its aftermath.

“A helicopter picked them up. Dad and Lew’s mom are on their way to the hospital. Apparently, I need to stay here and ‘get some rest.’” Vivi falls silent after a sarcastic imitation of what Mystery thinks is Touma. Rain pelts against the window, rattling the glass, and wind whistles around the building.

He sighs, sits, and waits. There was nothing more for him to do. Last he had seen, both Lewis and Arthur were stable enough physically. They should live with proper care.

Vivi is the one to break the elongated silence, “That demon, the body snatcher, is it…”

/Gone./

“It’s not in Lewis?”

/No. I removed and sealed it to the best of my ability. It will not be possessing anything for a long while./

“I see.”

Vivi falls silent and glares at him, eyes accusatory. Tentatively, he tries wagging his tail. He knows it is far past too late to continue the dog act, but Vivi always loved when he wagged his tail. A small part of him hopes it will make her smile.

“You lied.”

Mystery winces.

“All this time. You were lying. You were all lying. Dad, gran….did mom know?”

/She was aware, yes./

Her expression darkens, stricken. “Why? I thought dad was just a paranoid stick in the mud. Maybe, if you’d told me the truth, I could have actually been useful.”

/I believe the reasoning was that you were safer not knowing./

“Well, congratulations you failed.” Vivi stands, stomping out of the room and to the kitchen sink, dumping out her tea. She paces back and forth for a minute before turning to the door.

/Where are you going?/

“I’m not waiting here. I'm driving to Milton...I'll sit outside the emergency room all night if I have to.”

/It is raining./ He points out helplessly, following on her heels as she picks up a jacket which is coloured purple and several sizes too large.

She spins and glares again, “Does this look like the face of someone who cares?"

Mystery hesitates, pausing to watch her pack a bag and have a brief discussion with the elder Pepper. The short man escorts Vivi to the door, visibly tied and worried, giving Mystery an expression of acute unease. The faint smell of fear collects around him.

“Are you coming or what. It’s a forty-minute drive. Plenty of time for you to start explaining things.” Vivi orders, facing away, freezing at the door, silhouetted in the frame.

Mystery skirts in close. Despite her brash words of action, Vivi remains still, eyes fixed on the pavement just visible through the rain. The blood from earlier has all but washed away, soaking into the ground. The faint red streaks remaining have Vivi transfixed. Tears are dripping down her face, falling in time with the rain. Her hands tighten on the jacket. Mystery watches and aches. Many myths and stories caution against becoming too attached to humans. Mystery thinks of his failure to save Arthur, and the forced decision to pick Lewis instead. His inaction had almost killed them both, and it should not have affected him as much as it has. He can still feel the echo of rage and fear. A decade ago, he would have simply chosen the route with the greatest chance of success and thought of it no further.

Now, all he wants to do is stop Vivi’s crying.

/I am sorry./

NOTE: Mystery joins the angst party. The next part is either going to be a Lewis or Arthur POV. Since they’re interchangeable, which would people rather read first?

ALSO: I realised as I was editing. I accentually cut the foreshadowing for echo-Mystery out for some reason. It was supposed to be in part 22 but I think that it was before I decided to add several Mystery POVs to the fic so it wouldn’t have made much sense back then. Might add it back in at some point. I should really keep better plot notes.

Part 37: here

#mystery skulls animated #MSA #fanifc #fanfiction #Vivi Yukino #Lewis pepper #arthur kingsmen #Mystery the dog #angst #descriptions of violence #tw: blood #blood and injury #they're not out of the woods yet #and the moral of this fic is that lying is bad #timelines #time travel

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