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#Emma my love I hope this brightens up your week a little <3 I tried my best to keep things fluffy and soft for u heheHEHE MWAH
firewoodfigs · 3 years
Note
for the only one bed prompts......... "and only one pillow so a used b's chest or stomach" 🥺
EMMA, MY LOVE. FOR YOU I WOULD GIVE THE WORLD AND MORE <3 I hope you enjoy, friend!!! <3
also on ao3 - i like it when you sleep (for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it)
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She falls asleep on the car ride back.
It’s unusual, such behaviour. Ordinarily, she’d be keeping watch or the one driving, but throwing herself at wolves and flirting with married men (and tolerating her commanding officer’s unwarranted jealousy) is indescribably wearying. It’s even worse than military training, having to put up all these fake niceties and pretenses. She wonders how Roy does this every day. Maybe that’s why he’s so tired all the time, Riza thinks. Now she knows why.
She startles awake briefly when the car jerks. Riza mutters, unintelligibly, something about safety and watching the road. She dimly registers the sound of a murmured apology from the driver’s seat.
Riza nods, and drifts back uneasily to sleep.
(In her sleep, Riza dreams of a dimly-lit courtroom and of Lady Justice, so white and pure and glorious even in the shadows. It is a recurring dream of hers, but it still leaves her palms clammy and her heart racing, like she’s just pulled the trigger on someone for the very first time.)
“We’re here,” Roy announces.
Riza groans as she rouses from her nap. There’s an ache that’s starting to crawl into her head, and she wonders if she’s just had too much to drink earlier (she thinks she’s done a pretty good job of turning down the offers of free, expensive wine though). She rubs at her temples wearily, blinking hard in an attempt to dispel some of the lingering fatigue.
“Are you alright, Lieutenant?”
“Yes,” she answers, without hesitation. Riza straightens in her seat, smoothing out the creases in her outfit. It’s a fitting, champagne-coloured number that is as meddlesome as it is pretty. (Riza hasn’t worn something like this in a while, simply because there hadn’t been any occasion to. She thinks she’ll probably have a hard time getting out of it later.) She opens the door and stretches her legs out. “Let’s go, sir.”
“Alright.”
The motel is just like any other motel, Riza thinks. It’s old and musty and right in the middle of nowhere, managed by a receptionist who’s clearly half-asleep at their workstation. They check in under the guise of a civilian, childless couple, as usual. Elizabeth and Andrew Ditlev, yes, a room for two. We won’t be needing anything else, thank you. There’s the sound of keys jangling and paper notes rustling, and then she’s dragging her feet up the creaking stairs towards their room on the second floor, Roy’s hand hovering uncertainly over her back.
Riza nudges it away and reassures him that she’s just fine. (He continues fretting, anyway.)
It’s only after she’s taken a shower that Riza notes the irregularity in their room.
“Sorry,” Roy says. There’s a sheepish edge to his voice, but the way he’s grinning tells her that he’s not altogether unhappy about their current predicament. “I tried asking for another pillow, but reception said they’ve none left.”
Riza frowns. She moves to sit on the edge of the queen-sized bed, drying her hair with a thin towel. It’s not uncommon for them to share a bed; going on these undercover operations as a loving, married couple meant that it was only logical for them to do so. It’s not like she has anything against it, either, but she’s always maintained a distance from him, even while on the same bed. They usually sleep with their backs turned (although Roy has a peculiar habit of snaking his arm around her waist just before daybreak).
“Sorry,” Roy repeats, stifling a yawn. He’s already taken the liberty of going shirtless, while she was bathing. “You can take the pillow, if you’d like. I can go without.”
Riza shakes her head and gestures towards the shower.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”
He yawns again, dragging himself to the shower.
“Really, Lieutenant. It’s no hassle at all.”
Water starts running again, from the shower. Riza shifts towards the nightstand and picks up the phone. There’s a little note beside — press ‘0’ for reception and/or room service.
She does exactly that.
“What?”
“Hello,” Riza greets in response. “I’m calling from Room 204. We were wondering if you happened to have a spare pillow —”
“I already told you we have no more pillows,” the receptionist interrupts, groggily. Riza picks up on the poorly-concealed hint of annoyance and, somewhat annoyed herself, apologises insincerely for the apparent inconvenience caused. “Goodnight.”
The phone line goes dead.
Riza huffs. She puts the phone down and mutters something to herself about cheap motels and their stinginess. Resignedly, she fluffs the lone pillow and moves to lie down once her hair’s dry. (She thinks she’ll continue to keep her hair in a manageable bob like this, just for convenience’s sake — even if Roy prefers it otherwise.)
“Lieutenant,” he calls, sounding scandalised. Riza cracks an eyelid open and stares at him, as if to say, what? (She still has no idea how men do this so quickly, even after all these years in the military. It barely takes more than a minute for them to finish their ablutions, even though their bodies are nearly twice the size of hers. Thrice, if she’s including people like Major Armstrong in the count.) “What are you doing?”
“Sleeping. Or trying to.”
Roy makes a sound of disapproval as he dries himself (Riza turns away respectfully at this) and puts on his pajamas. She feels his weight on the mattress once he’s done, and when she refuses to budge from a spot he starts poking her from behind, like a needy child badgering their parents for an impossible gift (she doesn’t even remember behaving like this as a young girl).
Riza groans and rolls her shoulders. “What?”
“I told you to take the pillow, Lieutenant.”
“I told you it was fine.”
He clucks his tongue. Roy rolls her around to face him, and she bites her lips to stifle another groan.
“Stubborn as always, aren’t you?”
“Pot, kettle,” Riza murmurs wearily. She can barely keep her eyes open at this point, much less keep up with his nonsensical, baseless arguments. “Go to sleep, sir.”
Roy tries, vainly, to slip the pillow under her head a few minutes later, but Riza elbows him in the ribs and pulls the blanket over them, effectively ceasing the argument. He huffs petulantly and closes his eyes.
“Trouble sleeping?”
“No,” Riza mumbles, but it’s a lie. She knows that he knows it’s one. (It’s no secret that both of them have had trouble sleeping since the war.)
“You’re lying,” he says, though not accusingly.
Riza ignores him and clutches a handful of the motel’s standard-issue white blanket. She covers her eyes with them and tries to sleep, again, but she fails spectacularly at this otherwise simple task. There’s just something about motels and their pastel walls and background music that tends to set her on edge. Maybe it’s because it’s so unlike what she’s used to. (She’s fallen asleep to the sound of gunshots and explosions, more times than she has to Debussy.) Or maybe it’s the fact that she’s no longer sleeping on a single-sized bed, by herself.
“Are you sure you don’t want the pillow?”
“No.”
“Stubborn as ever,” he mutters. She thinks he’s given up on fighting a losing battle, when she feels his arms pulling her close.
“With all due respect —”
“Nothing inappropriate, Lieutenant. I promise you.” She struggles to free herself from his grip, but clearly, all the work he’s been putting at the gym lately has paid off. Riza glares at him, murderously. He simply grins. “Since they ran out of pillows, we’ll simply have to make one.”
“What, with alchemy?”
“Actually, that doesn’t sound entirely implausible.” Riza is about to push herself off his chest, when he tightens his grip around her. “But it’s late, and I’m tired, and besides, we’re supposed to be an ordinary couple, nothing else.”
The word rolls off his tongue infuriatingly. Riza gets the peculiar feeling that he’s enjoying this far more than he should be. She frowns, glancing at him from beneath her lashes.
“I do tend to move around a lot in my sleep, sir.”
“I know.” He shrugs against her, positioning her head so that it’s resting comfortably on his chest. Then Roy wraps his arms around her again, almost gleefully, uncaringly, as if there’s nothing inappropriate about their shared embrace. Riza huffs. “But it’s fine. Anything to help my favourite subordinate sleep.”
“How very kind of you, sir,” Riza mutters drily. She attempts, somewhat furtively, to tickle him - she knows all his weak spots by now - but Roy dodges it with surprising agility, like he would a bullet.
“Of course. Please make sure to give me a good performance review when the time comes,” he says, smirking in a way she can only describe as insufferable.
“Only if you stop drooling all over your desk.”
“For the record, I do not,” he says, with an injured sniff.
Riza rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t protest further. She won’t admit it aloud, but it’s nice, being held like this. Roy is unusually sweet in a way that he isn’t anywhere else. He hasn’t been this way since they were kids.
“Yes, you do,” Riza retorts softly, ignoring the lump in her throat.
(This scene is achingly familiar, like a vignetted memory, like an excerpt of a film she already knows the ending to. The ending is always the same in her dreams.)
Laughter rumbles from his chest. It is a lovely sound to hear, after a long day of work, but it rubs against her cheek ingratiatingly, and Riza makes a mental note to write a letter to the hotel when they’re back in the city — a not-too-gentle reminder to stock up on pillows and other necessities.
“We can save this argument for another time, Lieutenant. It’s two in the morning.”
Riza relents, because it is two in the morning. She thinks sleep should claim her now, rather than later; she’s been trying to cut down on her caffeine intake lately. But Roy starts stroking her hair, and then her back, like he’s trying to lull a child to sleep, and Riza has to swallow the satisfied hum lurking in her throat (she refuses to give him any satisfaction of knowing that she is, in fact, enjoying this, far more than she has any right to).
Riza clears her throat. She pushes his arm away.
“I’m not a cat, you know.”
Laughter, again. The caressing stops. She feels him pressing a kiss to the top of her head, and then he’s hugging her again, one arm resting languidly on her side like she’s some sort of a replacement bolster.
“I know. Goodnight, Riza,” he says, softly.
She doesn’t have the heart to remind him that they’re still on a mission.
“Goodnight,” Riza whispers. There’s a part of her that aches, yearns for this moment to be something more than a(nother) fleeting, stippled memory, but her bliss is abruptly broken by the commotion coming from upstairs — something about an adulterous affair and impecuniosity.
Riza shifts uneasily and tries to drown it all out by focusing on his heartbeat instead. It’s audible beneath her cheek — not quite like a lullaby, but close enough — just a gentle hum of life, enough to quell her frazzled nerves and lull her back into peace.
When she falls asleep at last, Riza dreams of something different, something that stems from her deepest desires.
(In her dreams, she’s in a white dress, and Roy is radiantly alive in a sunlit attic.)
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homeformyheart · 3 years
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i don’t feel so alone anymore - noah harris x mc (mtfl)
author’s note: i had to repost this due to blog access issues. this was an idea i had early on when my two first loves started and takes place before mason and ava break up. i used the farmer’s almanac to pick specific flowers to reference in this fic. the meaning of white jasmine is “sweet love, amiability” and pink camellias represent “longing for you,” which i thought was fitting for noah. the other two flowers are defined in the fic.
copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. moodboard created by me. series/pairing: my two first loves - noah harris x mc (emma rating/warnings: 13+; minor grief, mourning word count: 3.3k summary: it’s the third anniversary of emma’s mother’s passing and the price family have plans to visit her grave. noah finds out and offers emma his heart in support.
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i don’t feel so alone anymore
the day was here again. i can’t believe it’s been three years, emma thought to herself as she grabbed a black sweater dress and pulled on a pair of black tights. am i really going to wear all black today? screw it, she thought, pulling on her calf-length black leather boots as well. she didn’t want to spend another minute thinking about her outfit or school. she just needed to make it to lunch.
emma sighed and pulled out a photo album from the bookshelf on her desk, opening it about three quarters of the way with practiced ease. she couldn’t help but smile at the photo in front of her – the last time her family was complete and happy. she had just started her freshman year of high school and made the cheerleading squad.
“we need to celebrate! can we have 4 specials, including milkshakes, and the family-sized ice cream sundae for dessert?” mrs. price ordered in rapid-fire succession, before everyone had even settled into the booth.
“mom, you know we’re not going to be able to finish all of that!” emma said, trying to be serious but failing to stop the wide grin on her face.
mr. price put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “it must be a special occasion if we’re getting the ice cream sundae.”
mrs. price looked pointedly at her husband, but the twinkle in her eye suggested she was teasing. “of course, it’s a special occasion. our little emma bear is a high schooler and a cheerleader!”
emma stuck her tongue out at the childish nickname her mom continued to use. “mom, don’t call me that!”
it was the last memory she had of her mother that she could look back on fondly, before she got sick. emma traced her mother’s face with her finger, her gaze lingering on the deep purple scarf with pink and gold flower detail and matching dangling earring set. she looked up at the box hidden in the top shelf inside her closet, where those same scarf and earring set were stored, untouched for the past three years. taking a deep breath, emma grabbed the box and pulled out the scarf first, running the soft fabric through her fingers before wrapping it delicately around her neck. she picked up the gold dangling earrings next, sliding them onto her ears, the pink and purple crystal flowers catching the soft light of the bathroom lights. her phone buzzed a few times and she glanced over at the notifications.
noah: [want a ride to school?]
mason: [hey emma, need a ride to school?]
it was the same every morning, except when mason was carpooling with ava. she stopped expecting texts from ava, after she decided that emma was trying to steal her boyfriend. however, she was not in the mood for any of the stupid drama today. she quickly texted a brief “no,” to both, put her phone on airplane mode, and followed her dad out to his car.
“i’ll pick you guys up at 12:00, right here,” mr. price said, looking over at emma and mackenzie, who just nodded and stepped out of the car.
emma looked over at her dad and noticed the tired look on his face. his eyes were red and puffy, like he had spent the night crying. “we’ll get through this together,” she said, softly.
mr. price met her gaze and smiled. “you look beautiful today, just like your mother did when she wore that scarf.”
emma felt her lips quirk up. “thanks, dad.” she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and stepped out.
she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone today. she walked to her locker to grab her history textbook before heading to homeroom.
“look at miss goth-wannabe over there. going to a funeral?”
emma took a deep breath. she saw lauren and ava walking towards her out of the corner of her eye and turned away so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact. she blinked rapidly at the stinging feeling forming behind her eyes at lauren’s comment and quickly sat down in the back corner of the room, on the side of the room closest to the door. if she had looked at ava, she would’ve seen the conflict on her best friend’s face. but they weren’t really talking these days, and emma didn’t want to feel hurt and disappointed in case ava didn’t remember what today was. only four hours to go.
as soon as the bell rang that signaled the start of lunch, emma walked as fast as she could toward the school entrance. she was weaving around students heading to their lockers or the cafeteria, heading in the opposite direction, when someone grabbed her wrist. emma tried to yank her wrist away and whirled around to see who had grabbed her.
“hey emma, where are you rushing off to? is everything okay?” noah asked softly, still holding onto emma’s wrist.
emma looked up at him and her eyes softened at the genuine concern in noah’s eyes. she bit her lip as she debated internally whether to tell him the truth. there were only two people who really knew what happened freshman year and would understand why today was so significant, but of course, those were the two people she wasn’t really talking to much lately.
“my dad’s picking me up for lunch and i have a free period after. i’ll be back for practice,” she said finally, avoiding eye contact.
noah let go of her wrist and moved to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. the simple motion made emma’s heart flutter and her body tense. bringing her eyes up to meet his, emma let out breath she didn’t realize she was holding. noah’s gaze was soft, gentle, but inquiring in a vulnerable way. his hand lingered by her cheek and she subconsciously started to lean into his palm. as if on cue, noah brought his palm closer and emma felt his thumb gently stroke her cheek.
there was something about the look he was giving her that made emma want to let him in. “we’re going to visit my mom’s grave. she died three years ago today,” she said softly, dropping her gaze to the floor.
noah held her chin firm and lifted her face so she was looking at him again. “i’m so sorry,” he murmured. “it’s understandable why you’d want to avoid everyone today. what can i do?”
emma pulled back instinctively, startled, but noah’s grip on her chin held her in place. most people who had never lost a loved one usually asked, “are you okay?” and emma would say “i’m fine,” as if it were a reflex. if they hadn’t lost a loved one, sometimes she would get the unintentionally offensive “time heals all wounds,” that she’d respond to with silence until they awkwardly excused themselves from the conversation. this was the first time in a long time someone just acknowledged her pain and asked her what they could do to be supportive rather than presume she wanted to hear unsolicited advice.
“that’s really sweet. i don’t think anyone’s really asked me that before, so i don’t really know if there’s anything you can do. but i really appreciate it,” she said finally, feeling a small smile appear on her face.
“i have a free period after lunch too,” noah started slowly, bringing his thumb to stroke her bottom lip. “i could keep you company or provide you with a distraction. whatever you need.”
his voice never wavered but emma saw the uncertainty in his eyes that darted between her eyes and her lips.
emma smiled a little wider. “that sounds nice. maybe you can meet me at the graveyard after my dad goes back to work? i’ll text you.”
noah’s eyes seemed to brighten and soften at the same time. “you got it, emma,” he said and with one last, quick glance at her lips, he dropped his hand from her face.
as soon as his hand left her face, emma missed the warmth. her gaze dropped to his lips once, before moving back up to meet his in what she hoped would be seen as silently asking for permission. noah’s gaze darkened so slightly that emma wondered if she imagined it, before his soft lips were on hers. she wasn’t sure who moved first, maybe they both moved at the same time, but all she could focus on was noah. he was kissing her sweetly and gently, as if he were afraid of pushing too hard or overstepping, and it was just what she needed.
she finally pulled away after what felt like minutes even though it was probably a few seconds and smiled. “thank you,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze before walking out the door.
ten minutes later, emma slid into the booth next to mack at the diner they used to go at least once a week. now they went as a family a couple times a year, in the spirit of remembering her mom. both mack and her dad were quiet and staring at the menus in front of them.
“3 specials with milkshakes and an ice cream sundae?” she suggested, mustering an encouraging smile on her face as she looked at her dad.
mr. price’s face brightened a little. “that sounds perfect for today.”
mack rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop a smile from forming on her face. “i am definitely going to fall into a food coma after lunch.”
emma quickly put in their order, making sure to also ask for coffee for her dad. once the food came, the awkwardness dissipated a little as they reminisced about their favorite memories with their mom. emma noticed both mack and her dad’s expressions seemed a little lighter by the time they were ready to leave.
after the meal, and boxing up lots of leftovers, they headed to the graveyard after a quick stop at the florist to pick up a bouquet of pink calla and stargazer lilies. emma held tightly on to the bouquet the entire ride over, feeling a sting behind her eyes and trying to keep the tears at bay by blinking rapidly. her mom absolutely loved pink lilies in all forms and while looking down at the picture-perfect flowers in her hands, she could feel how much she missed her mom. she missed her so much it physically hurt.
all too soon, she’s standing in front of her grave and the large tombstone with only the left half filled out. her parents had bought a shared plot and tombstone when her mom got sick. it was one of her mom’s strengths – she was always thinking ahead to find ways to lighten the burden on her family, even if said burdens came. the design and inscription on the tombstone were thoughtfully designed and selected by her mom, so the message was especially poignant. it was also the way her mom removed the burden from her family of having to deal with the logistics of arranging everything while they were deep in their grief.
“i love you mom. and i miss you so much every day,” emma said softly, kneeling down to help her dad clear out the weeds in front of the stone before laying the bouquet down. i hope i’ve made you proud, she thought to herself, taking a few steps back to allow her dad and mack to have their own private moments.
mr. price stood between emma and mack with an arm around each daughter. he gave their shoulders a light squeeze and emma wrapped her arm around her dad’s waist to give him a one-armed hug.
“come on girls, i’ll give you a ride back to school,” he said as he started walking back toward the car. mack followed but emma hesitated.
“actually, i’d like to stay a little longer. i don’t have any more classes today so i just need to get back in time for practice. i can take the bus back,” emma explained, tensing as she waited for her dad’s reaction. to be honest, she expected him to get angry and go into a lecture about skipping school even if she had a free period, but he didn’t.
he was quiet for a few moments before nodding. “i’ll see you at home later. be careful,” he said, turning back around.
emma let out the breath she was holding. she ignored the 30 unread texts and 5 voicemails from mason and sent a quick text to noah, who arrived more quickly than she expected. she walked back toward the main path so he could see where she was and noticed that he was holding two bouquets.
“what’s this?” she asked, as they walked back to her mom’s grave.
noah looked at her sheepishly. “well, i wanted to bring you and your mom something. the hyacinth and gladiolus flowers are for your mom,” he said, pushing the bouquet in his right hand toward her.
emma bent her face down to take in the scent of the flowers. “these are beautiful. usually people just get roses or chrysanthemums. i don’t think i’ve heard of these before, why’d you pick them?”
“i did some research on the meaning of flowers. white hyacinths can represent prayers for someone, and gladiolus flowers represent remembrance,” he said, softly. “i wanted these to be special.”
emma felt her heart swell with warmth. “noah… you being here is special. but thank you, this is incredibly thoughtful.” she smiled and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. she motioned for him to place the flowers next to her bouquet from earlier before turning back to the grave.
“mom, i want you to meet someone special. this is noah harris from school, a very important friend i made this year,” emma said softly, intertwining her fingers with noah’s and giving him a light squeeze.
“just a friend?” he teased softly.
emma blushed and tried to keep her gaze forward. “i, well, you’re special to me,” she stumbled, embarrassed.
noah squeezed her hand. “you’re special to me, too.” he turned to address the grave. “mrs. price, you have an amazing daughter. she tried so hard to become my friend when everyone else preferred to ignore me. i never thought i’d have someone like her in my life, someone who sees me for me and chooses to see good. i am so grateful that you raised her to be so kind and thoughtful.”
emma’s jaw dropped and she turned to look at noah’s face. even from his profile, she could tell he was being sincere, and very vulnerable. he turned to her with a soft smile and emma just felt like her insides were melting. she surged forward to kiss him, hard, letting go of his hand so she could wrap hers around his neck. noah took a step back in surprise but quickly regained his balance and held her waist firmly as he kissed her back. he pulled back shortly after to hand her the other bouquet, which emma had forgotten about. she took the bouquet from him and inhaled the perfume radiating off the pink and white flowers before looking back up at him.
“these are for you. white jasmine and pink camellias,” he said softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
“thank you,” emma said, sighing happily when noah placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “and what do these flowers represent?”
noah was silent. emma looked up from the flowers at him curiously but he was avoiding her gaze. was he blushing? she couldn’t remember if she had ever seen him blush before and now, she was really curious about what these flowers represented.
“you’re blushing! now i really want to know. please or i’ll just look it up,” emma teased, elated at finally seeing noah blush.
noah turned to head back toward the main path, but not before he grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers. “i think i’d rather you look it up when you get home so you can’t tease me anymore today,” he said quickly as they made their way to his motorcycle.
“fiiiine, but i reserve the right to tease you about it tonight or tomorrow,” emma said, taking the spare helmet from noah.
he grimaced but emma could see the ghost of a smile twinkling in his eyes. she climbed behind him on the motorcycle and held tight as they made their way back to school. they walked hand-in-hand to the football field, ignoring the looks from everyone as they continued toward their respective locker rooms to get changed for practice. emma held on to her bouquet tightly and couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she chatted with noah the entire walk over.
if anyone was looking closely, which emma wasn’t, they would’ve noticed that noah wasn’t really saying anything but looking at emma adoringly as if everything she was saying was the most interesting thing ever. which it was, at least, to him. not even seeing ava being handsy with mason could put a damper on emma’s spirits as she said goodbye to noah before heading over to the bleachers for cheer practice.
“how good of you to come back for practice after skipping school at lunch,” lauren remarked sarcastically as emma started stretching. the entire cheer squad and even mason seemed to have gone silent, waiting for emma’s reaction or response.
emma took a deep breath and straightened up to look at lauren directly with a frostiness that seemed out of character. she could see ava and mason out of the corner of her eye look at her with concern. “i didn’t skip. my dad signs us out for a half day so we can visit my mom’s grave on the anniversary of her death every year. got a problem with that?” she stated, her voice unwavering. lauren’s eyes widened in surprise. “didn’t think so.”
“two laps everyone, now!” ava ordered. the other cheerleaders seemed relieved as they started jogging away from the bleachers. “emma, wait. can we talk?”
emma paused and turned to look at ava and mason. “em, i’m sorry. i tried texting and calling you all day,” mason said, hands clenching as though he was trying to keep himself from reaching out for her. emma knew what he was really saying, which was that either he was sorry he forgot it was the anniversary of her mom’s death and that emma would need all the support she could get from her friends or that he remembered and was sorry he didn’t try harder to reach out. maybe he was too preoccupied with ava.
emma gave both of her friends long, appraising looks. “is that all?” she said, a little inwardly surprised at her own indifference. ever since her two best friends started dating, instead of seeing them both more, she saw them even less. she thought she would feel less alone after coming back from wisconsin but being a third wheel threw a wrench in that. until she started getting to know noah.
“emma… you know we’re here for you,” ava said softly, her eyes searching emma’s face for cues.
emma thought back to how noah stopped her in the hallway before she left to meet her dad and the flowers he brought to the graveyard. “except you know, you actually weren’t there for me today,” she said, giving them both a piercing look. mason and ava seemed to both tense and inwardly withdraw.
“but don’t worry, i’m okay. more than okay, actually. for the first time in a long time, i’m happy and i don’t feel so alone anymore,” she said, more to herself than to them, as she turned to start jogging along the track.
she didn’t look back at the concerned looks on mason’s and ava’s faces but did wave to noah when she noticed he was looking at her. she still missed her mom every day, but today it didn’t hurt as much. and she knew who to thank for that.
* * * * * mentions: @nyastarlight​; @khoicesbyk​; @chetachisblog​;  @robintora​;​ @shows-simp-card​;
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seriouslyhooked · 4 years
Text
The Same Soul Part 10
Available on FF Here and AO3 Here. Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9.
Our world AU where Emma and Killian knew each other as teenagers. Killian was sent to spend a summer with family in America. He met foster kid Emma while there. They fell in love but then he was forced back home and she couldn’t take the memories so she ran away, trying her best to move on from the dreams they’d always hoped for. A chance meeting brings them back together years later, and this time nothing and no one will keep them apart. Rated M. 10 Parts.
A/N: Hey everyone! So this epilogue is a short and sweet birthday gift to myself. I thought about what I wanted most in terms of my writing, and a tidy, fluffy ending for this fic is exactly what the doctor ordered. I wanted you all to rest assured that Emma and Killian do, indeed, have a happy ending in this AU (not that anyone would doubt that given the rest of the story). Nevertheless, we’re flashing forward into the future, and I am including some CS kids fluff and a little stolen smutty moment for our lovely couple. I love these kind of chapters, and though this isn’t very long, I hope it will brighten your day a little bit. Thank you to all of you for reading and supporting me along the way. This one is for all of you just as much as it’s for me!
(12 Years Later)
Gazing out the window as their family minivan traced the familiar route to Uncle Benjen’s house, Emma let out a soft laugh. 
On the one hand, things were exactly as they’d left it, unchanging in the more than twenty years since she’d first come to this magical place. Now though, the circumstances of her visit were very different. She was no longer a little lost girl en route to one remarkable but fleeting summer. Instead she was an exhausted but elated mother of four trying to wrangle her kids to a few weeks of well-deserved summer beach time.
“But how much longer will it be, Mommy?” 
The question came from her youngest daughter, Leia, who at five years old was precocious and adventurous but not exactly patient. Leia loved life and was a very happy child, but when she had to wait, as she had in this hours long car ride… well things could get dodgy quickly. Emma tried to craft a response that would suffice. They were very close, but at the same time, rewarding Leia’s impatient questions was never in any of their best interest.
“Leia, what do you want to do first when we get there? I was thinking we should swim in the pool. You could show everyone your new vest.” 
The words of encouragement and distraction came from their eldest son, Jack, and Emma let out a sigh of relief at his handling of this. Jack was brilliant at picking up on energy. He’d always been observant, and at fourteen he was the oldest of the Jones children. He might not technically share any DNA with her or Killian, but he was still a carbon copy of her husband. They had the same dark hair and similar features, but it was their manner and personalities that were most alike. Killian and Jack were caregivers and guardians. The most important thing to them was protecting their family and doing right by the people they loved. In the end, it made absolutely no difference to any of them that Jack had come to them through a different means than Leia and the others. He was as much a Jones as anyone of them, their first child in every way, as they’d had Jack since he was six and placed in foster care. Back then, Killian worked on a case involving Jack’s placement, but it was Emma who took one look at their son and knew that he was meant to be their family. By that tie, she and Killian had been married a few years and had already discussed their want to adopt, and they were ready for the challenge. Luckily though, Jack proved no challenge at all. Their son was quiet but loving, gentle and kind, but mostly he was smart, both with books and with people. 
“He’ll be a hell of a man some day,” Killian whispered to Emma as Leia chattered on with Jack about her want to see the beach, collect shells, and build sandcastles. Emma smiled in response to her husband’s apt assessment, but was precluded from answering when their eldest daughter replied to Killian first.
“Dad said a bad word. That’s two bucks for the college fund.”
Eight-year-old Hope didn’t so much as glance up from her book as she said the words and both Emma and Killian laughed at her matter-of-fact tone. Killian had whispered low enough that no one should be able to hear, but Hope had a gift. When there was a chance to catch her parents at something or to reap a decent reward, their daughter was a true hawk. She’d been doing this forever, and Emma was prone to thinking this was an inherited trait. Hope was, in many ways, what Emma might have been if she’d been blessed with family. She was confident and sure and always honest. She had a thorough sense of right and wrong, and, as it happened, perfect comedic timing. 
“Sorry, lass,” Killian replied, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. Emma turned around to look at Hope who spared them a brief look and a pleased smile.
“Don’t be sorry. I just made two bucks.”
Again they laughed, but then the car’s slight moment of quiet was interrupted with a loud and happy squeal from their youngest, Leo. Their baby boy had been somewhat of a surprise, with Emma thinking she had birth control totally covered, but sometimes the universe had other plans, and thank God it did. At just about a year, Leo was healthy and happy and another true joy in their lives. Oh he was a certifiable rascal to be sure, causing complete mayhem when crawling or walking anywhere and everywhere, but Emma knew they were totally blessed in the sweet tempers and real goodness that all four of their children shared.
“Yeah, Leo, we’re almost there. Right Mommy?” Leia asked and Emma hummed out a sound of agreement. 
“Just about. Look out your window, honey and you’ll see it in 3…2…1.”
Sure enough the trees gave way at that moment to Benjen’s grand estate and immediately all the kids cheered. Emma made to cover her ears from the onslaught of sound, but despite the noise, she was too happy to care. As much as the kids loved this place, Emma and Killian loved it too, and she knew that the next two weeks would be filled with the best parts of summer and family and fun. 
As expected, the lot of them were quickly greeted by many of their favorite people. Uncle Benjen and Eleanor were first, and though it had been years since they’d married, Emma always smiled at how Killian’s first instinct was to call her Mrs. Potts. Each time his Uncle would correct him, calling her Mrs. Jones, and it resulted in the sweetest moment between two older people who were very much in love. This trip they were also here with Liam and his family, his wife Elsa, and their three kids, Ayana, Hunter, and Claire. This chance to hang out with their cousins brought joy to every Jones child, and for Emma and Killian it meant that there might actually be more time for just the two of them. It would be foolish to count on that, considering how little free time parents of four ever managed to find, but between Benjen and Eleanor and Liam and Elsa, Emma could imagine a few possible date nights with her husband that could be enjoyed in the coming days. 
“So I think we’ve finally done it,” Liam said excitedly as he tossed little Leia up on his shoulder at her request. Emma listened to her daughter’s infectious giggles at the attention from her Uncle as Liam continued on. “I think we’ve finally filled the unfillable house.”
“Oh Liam, how wrong you are, my dear,” Eleanor said, taking Claire by the hand as they all headed inside. “We’ve filled two wings, but the west wing is still totally empty.”
“Well you heard that, love, we best get busy on filling the rest of the rooms,” Liam said to his wife and Elsa rolled her eyes, shoving at him playfully but blushing all the same.
Emma and Elsa shared a knowing look. If things were up to either of the Jones men they’d each have half a dozen children at least, but the broods they already had seemed big enough. Emma had only actually had three of her babies herself and that felt like enough, but she did sense that another adoption might be somewhere in their future. She and Killian never said as much aloud, but it was understood that if another child in need found their way to them, they would make room without any hesitation. Elsa, on the other hand, might pretend to be put off, but she’d definitely be persuaded to have a few more children of her own. Emma’s sister-in-law adored her children, after all, and she had made being their Mom her full-time job.
Emma respected that choice, and she too spent as much time with her kids as she possibly could, but she hadn’t let her work go completely. Oh she was finished with being a bail bonds person, realizing that the danger and the chase held nothing of real value to her anymore, but now she worked with Killian and his partners in one focused, but critically important area: tracking teen runaways. Despite Killian and many others in their city working hard to change the system and provide safe spaces for all children in their area, there were still many kids who felt the dangers of the streets were preferable to a group home or their grim realities of their home lives. Emma felt for those kids, knowing that she had faced a similar sense of grief, fear, and alienation. Her work now was in tracking these kids down, and when she did, she made sure that she and Killian advocated for their care and their safety in every possible way. So far this year she’d managed to find twelve young people, eight girls and four boys, and she was proud to say that every single one was doing much better. Through counseling, special programs, and safe homing, they were all being given another shot. That being said there were plenty more kids out there who still needed their help, and Emma knew that as long as she had a gift for finding people, she would never turn her back on that need. 
“I know you want to save the whole world, love, but we promised two weeks of no worries, remember?” 
Killian’s question came as his arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her back against him. Emma closed her eyes, soaking in the strength of her favorite person and partner. All this time together and she still never got used to how right it felt when he held her close. It truly was is if they were two pieces to one whole, but with their love she never felt herself slipping away. They were perfect compliments, but still their own independent and unique people. 
“I remember. But seeing how hard it will be to not worry, maybe you could give me some incentive?” 
Emma backed up ever so slightly to tease her husband and his low growl reverberated through her and sent a lush thrill through her body. Her eyes flashed to the kids who were all fixated on their cousins and their grandparents and then she turned around to look at him. The hunger in his gaze was rivaled only by his admiration, and she trembled with her own want building for this beautiful man. 
“Kids!” Killian called, breaking eye contact to look over at their clan. “Your mum and I are taking a walk. Heed the grands and your aunt and uncle until we get back.”
“Aye, aye captain!” Jack, Leia, and Hope all exclaimed, partaking in a years long family joke about Killian running this family like a captain on a ship. Even little Leo tried to get in on the action, saluting like his siblings as Uncle Benjen held him close. 
Killian nodded to the adults and Emma looked at them all before shrugging, as if she had no idea why her willful husband would steal her away like this, but she totally knew, and so did they. He moved to the car and quickly grabbed a picnic blanket she had stowed away ages ago, and her heart skipped at why exactly he would bring that now. Her desire for the moment only grew as Killian took her hand and led her back through the winding path and towards the glen where they were married. Emma thought not for the first time how perfectly situated this place was. It was close enough that if the needed to rush back they could, but far enough away to be out of sight and out of earshot from the others. 
When they made it to the meadow, Emma was not surprised but still delighted at the flowers that were in bloom, coloring the emerald green grass with pops of purple and blue and white. They were the height of summer wildflowers, standards in this oasis, and familiar to her now after years of coming back. On a day like today where the heat of the sun was strong and enduring, it made the fragrance hanging in the air all the sweeter. The light wind through the trees cooled her skin enough to be comfortable, but nothing could tamp down the yearning she felt for this alone time with her husband.
“If history holds, we’ve got roughly an hour before the kids go feral and make a break away,” Killian said, spreading out the blanket and pulling her down to the ground on a soft patch of earth with an overgrown maple behind them. 
“A whole hour? Do you really think we need that?” she joked, and damn did it pay off. No sooner had the teasing words left her lips then her husband was on her with a possessive, demanding hold designed to make her dizzy with even more need. 
Even after all this time the way he kissed her fueled her fire, his hands and lips tracing rough and gentle lines across her skin made her pant in the summer sun. It felt so good to be claimed this way, and the sensation of it all left her breathless. With frenzied anticipation she tasted his kisses, feeling his lips trail down her jaw and her neck, nipping and soothing as they went. He toyed with her breasts, tormenting her with things she wanted so badly, but by the time he licked at her aching flesh, she was mindless. Her eyes closed as she felt every perfect press and pull, she was so close, so sure she’d break from how good it felt, and then he hummed against her sex and told her to let go. When she did she broke apart in a million pieces, but came back together more alive and rejuvenated than ever before.
“I love how good you love me,” Emma said, not sure if she made sense, but knowing Killian took her meaning as he kissed his way back up her skin. He’d mangled up her sundress, pulling the straps down low and pushing the skirt up high, but he only seemed to love her state of mess. If anything, the expression in his gaze said that her man was perfectly happy with her just exactly as she was.
“We were meant for this, Emma, meant for everything,” he said, coming up above her and bringing his hard length to her entrance. She moved her legs to take him and they both moaned aloud when he plunged in, filling her completely. “This is exactly where I’m mean to be. This is happiness made real.”
Emma agreed in every way, and as they came together first slow and steady and then fast and hard, she let how right this was wash over her. She always knew that this was fated, but it still felt like magic to experience this with him. Crashing into bliss was heaven itself, and even as they both came down from their high, holding onto each other, and drawing lazy lines along each other’s skin with nothing but the tips of their fingers, Emma smiled. She knew she must be glowing right now, for nothing could contain how truly joyous that she was to have this man, and their beautiful life together.
“Part of me wishes we could stay like this forever,” Emma murmured, pressing a kiss to his neck and feeling against her lips the gentle beat of his pulse. 
“Aye, me too,” he whispered. “But the other part, a greater part, knows that what’s coming is somehow even better than this.”
Emma agreed whole heartedly, and she knew he meant that their life and their kids was all a part of their happily ever after. They had each other, yes, and Emma knew they always would, but they also had so much more now. Their world was so much bigger, so much grander, and their love, as a result, was just as giant and all consuming.
“We’re lucky to have had this long already,” Emma said, bestowing on her husband a final kiss as she straightened herself out and rose to her feet. Killian’s eyes tracked her, appraising her motions, but soon he joined her, getting himself together and gathering the blanket to take back with them again. Soon enough they set back to the house, both of them eager to see the kids and enjoy the day. With the weather this nice, they’d likely hit the beach and have a cook out, ringing in the summer in the best possible way, but just when she could see the house again, Killian stopped, his hand holding her steady and halting her motion.
“Everything all right?” she asked and Killian nodded, but let go of her hand, walking towards the edge of the trail. Emma didn’t know what he was after, but when he pulled back around and offered it to her she smiled. Leave it to her husband to find a wild rose in the middle of nowhere. She should have expected such a gesture – seeing as how Killian had filled her life with these tiny, perfect gifts for years now.
With steady hands he took the flower and placed it behind her ear, making her feel like a young girl again as he looked at her with unadulterated love. She knew it was sappy, and maybe a little corny, but she didn’t care. With this man she felt like a princess, a goddess, and like the most important person in this world and the rest.
“It takes my breath away each day, love,” he whispered as he cupped her cheek, running his thumb along the corner of her lips.
“What does?”
“How much I love you. Every day I fall a little more, and every day I’m glad as hell to do it.”
Unable to help herself, Emma moved against him for another kiss, but this time they were spotted, and, as expected, her kids feigned disgust at an open display between them of their love for each other. In typical fashion Killian told them to get over it, before grabbing little Leo and Leia and engaging with the others in their selected summer game. He was the best kind of father, and the kids loved him so much that it made Emma’s eyes water up with tears. She watched them for a moment, just a few seconds strung together, but in that span of time she let herself know the truth of her charmed life – she was the luckiest woman in the world, and as long as she had her family, she always, always would be.
Post-Note: So there we have it! I know the chapter is shorter than all the others, but I hope that you will all forgive that and enjoy this fluffiness for what it is meant to be – a sweet, fun send off to a story that means so much to me. It’s always hard to say goodbye to a cute fic like this, but I do so knowing that this is where I always pictured this story winding up. I also am comforted by the fact that I have not one, not two, but three new stories I am currently working on. So keep an eye out in the coming months for some new fics from me that will carry this same cute, fluffy energy. Thanks again so much for reading and hope you all have a great rest of your day!
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seven-oomen · 4 years
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Okay, so first off, Happy Birthday to your cat!  I hope he got lots of his favorite treats.  Glad to hear that today went as well as can be hoped for you.  And overall today wasn’t too bad here.  We got several big truck deliveries, but when I deal with those I tend to deal less with customers, so it sort of balances itself out.  We’ve been told that we’ll be closing early all week because of the protests, so that’s been ramping the anxiety, but the internet has provided a number of pleasant distractions on my breaks.
Secondly, I would pick Noah for the one that has the second set of twins, for mainly two random reasons; 1) because last time it went Chris, then Noah, so it feels like it should do the same this time, and Chris already had Ben, 2) because it keeps the number of kids per family more balanced- 4 & 3 rather than 2 & 5.  Idk, my brain just gets weird about symmetry and balance in things and I’ve never figured out if it’s an ADD related thing or just a me thing.  Also, the idea of him trying to do his job while pregnant, with Chris and ESPECIALLY Peter trying to be super protective at the same time is just amusing to me.
And actually, thinking about that and the preview for the next chapter made me think of a couple things that didn’t make it into my reviews.  When/how/from whom did Chris learn about the fire? Did Gerard or Kate tell him in a gloating sort of way and kind of tip him off that something was hinky about it, or was it through other hunter contacts, so the thought of outside involvement came later?  
Was he still pregnant with Ben, or was it later on?  Did he contact anyone in Beacon Hills about it for further info at any point before he showed back up in town?  Because I was trying to think about some of the things that could turn up later for angst (why I was doing that to myself is anyone’s guess, but here we are…) and it occurred to me that if Noah was going to have any lingering upset over Chris leaving it would most likely (to me) be from the time right after the fire.  
He’s just lost Claudia, and went off the rails from it, but at least he had Peter, and Laura, and the other Hales.  Now Peter is in a coma, Laura’s left town, and the rest of his adopted/found family is dead.  He has no idea where Chris is, or if he’s safe from whoever did this (does he know about what happened between Chris and Peter before Chris left again?, and he’s dealing a set of even more heavily traumatized twins right now.  I feel like even the most understanding person is gonna have some stuff to work through there.  (Also, Jesus, poor Melissa [possibly for multiple reasons])
Uhhh…sorry to send things into a drama tailspin there for a moment.  Allow me to try and brighten things back up with the original impetus for me to make this a submission and not an ask; because you mentioned X-Men Halloween costumes and I have Thoughts.  *takes super deep breath*  Because omg, yes, so very many options.  
Side note - I would be so happy if someone dressed as Nightcrawler.  He is my precious fuzzy elfin bb, and I love him to bits and get so tired of him getting left out of things (looking at you Funko.)  I feel like Stiles or Peter have the best attitude match (maybe, MAYBE Jackson), but don’t know if anyone would want to deal with the amount of makeup involved.  But, anyway, just, the possibilities.  
Stiles telling Malia she can’t just take the easy way out by going as Wolfsbane, so she takes one of her old white A New Hope Leia dresses and cuts it down into an old school Mystique costume. 
 Peter pulling rank and telling Derek he’s the Alpha so he gets to be Wolverine (this even works better height-wise [I didn’t realize you didn’t know their approximate heights.  I’d looked them up before for…reasons.  Having seen them standing next to each other repeatedly, I’m pretty sure any actual height advantage Ian has comes strictly from his hair], although when Stiles points this out he earns himself a hell of a glare.)  
Naturally that means Chris has to be Cyclops, because, well, calm and serious.  Noah realizes this means they expect him to be Jean Grey.  (N: “Why can’t I ever be a character that wears normal pants?!” C: “Well I have to be the boring one all the time” P: “I mean, you are the closest to a telepath of the three of us.  Don’t you want us mock fighting over you?” N: “…if we do this I get my pick of the Phoenix costumes.”)  
Stiles and Noah trying to fight over getting to be Gambit so they can do exploding playing cards, but getting told they can’t be Gambit unless they can do the accent correctly (Gambit isn’t Gambit if he’s not Cajun, that’s just how it is, I don’t make the rules.)  While part of me thinks it’d be funny to see Jackson as Nightcrawler because of the tail thing, I think Stiles would be more entertaining.  
He’d make little smoke bomb things to fake the sulfur and brimstone effect of his teleporting.  All the family members with enhanced senses would HATE him because they STANK something fierce, and it LINGERED.  But anytime one of them tried to tackle him to get them away, he’d yell “BAMF!” throw on to the floor and run like hell.  
Jackson would be Iceman so he could make it a crossover costume with the character from Top Gun so he could wear aviators and a leather bomber with his outfit.  Allison could dress like Shadowcat from the early Excalibur run, and she could see if Ben would dress up as Lockheed with her (because that would be adorable).  
Derek would decide that if he can’t be Wolverine and glare angrily at people the whole time, he’ll be Colossus so he can just stare with silent disappointment the whole time.  Scott would decide he wants to be Cable (because “…he just looks so cool…”), so Melissa and Chris would dig through their old hunter gear to help him make his costume.  
Melissa could be Jubilee, and rig up little flash bangs to fake the plasma bursts (unlike Noah she has absolutely no qualms about proving that she can still rock a pair of short shorts.)  Lydia would either be Rogue to show off that SHE at least can manage a believable accent, or Emma Frost for the looks that costume would gain her from Allison.  
Alternatively; both sets of twins argue over who gets to be Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver, so they decide that one pair will do the classic comic version, and one will do either the Evolution cartoon version or the MCU version (though they are allowed to switch out the Quicksilver for the other film version if they choose).  
Lydia claims Mystique instead (it’s tempting to make her Banshee, but that seems a bit TOO on the nose), or maybe one of the other Phoenix looks (when I say Phoenix looks I mean Jean’s Phoenix or Dark Phoenix suit from the comics, because I LOVE that outfit), and Ben dresses as Beast (because that would also be adorable).  *finally stops to take another breath*  …umm…so anyway, yeah, as a perennial X-men fan I think it’s safe to say I love this idea, and am so grateful for you putting it in my head…  …sorry about the wall of text, I may have got a little carried away…  …again…
I loved every single sentence of this wall of text, so never apologize. (Although I did break it up a little before posting because that makes it easier to read for other people.
I think all of my ideas for the middle of this fic where either based on questions you, or @artemisa97​ asked me in reviews. So honestly, keep them coming if you want to ask them. They help me determine where the problem areas are, what kind of kinks I need to work out, so honestly, even the sad ones are a great help.
And yeah, I hadn’t looked up their heights yet, I just assumed Peter and Chris were a bit bigger than Noah, but I was delightfully wrong!
I do have one more gem to share, a height comparison of some of the boys and to show you just how tiny Ben is compared to the others.
Tumblr media
Blue - Noah (182 cm / 6 ft)
Purple - Chris (177 cm / 5′10)
Red - Peter (178 cm / 5′10)
Yellow - Derek (183 cm / 6 ft)
Green - Ben (111 cm / 3′8)
Turquoise - Jackson (170 cm / 5′7)
Ben’s height is about average for someone between the age of 5 & 6, Jackson’s height is a little on the short side, but I’d imagine that he’d still grow a little until he’s like 20 and end up being around 175/176 cm.
I’d imagine Stiles to be a little taller around 172 cm, Allison is a little shorter at 165 cm and Malia is around 168 cm. (They will all still grow a bit, averaging between 173 (Allison) and 178 (Stiles) )
And the one thing I will say about whether or not Noah gets the twins, without getting too spoilery, or maybe it is, I’m sorry if it is but I can’t help not share.
Is that eventually both Noah and Chris have the same amount of kids from Peter. And one of them has twins. I’m still debating on names, in the deleted scene I named them Mikhail and Adeline, I currently have different names picked out. 
And I think the balance thing is ADD related, because I had the same issue with planning the story XD. So yeah, Peter gets to have a lot of kids, and adopt a lot more into the pack, because Season 2 is kinda canon in this universe, in the sense that Isaac, Erica, and Boyd are still turned. Kira comes along, and of course Lydia. Considering what I have planned for Danny and Mack, I might add them to the pack as well.
And omg I LIVE for those X-men costume ideas <3 Omg. I love it. Considering Stiles’ abilities he would definitely be Nightcrawler and would probably use a quick spell or two to get the makeup in place. (A druid invented this fantastic spell to always get eyeliner on fucking point and shared it in their spellbook. Spoiler alert; said druid was Noah in his teenage punk years. Turns out, it works for other makeup too.)
And I’m in fucking love with all of these ideas actually, I can’t really say which I like more.
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lifeinahole27 · 5 years
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CS ff: “A Toast to Now” (Part 1/2) (au)
Summary: His neighbors may be brightening their own holidays, but they’re ruining the constant melancholy of his life. He’s determined to keep to himself until the single mother that lives next door to him drops literally through his door two nights before Christmas. It’s the moment that may be temporary, like everything else, but it may just change everything.
Rating: M (for part 2)
Warnings: Minor mentions of alcohol abuse, brooding Killians...
A/N: *shy waves* Hi there, @effulgentcolors! I’m your secret santa! It’s been so hard holding in this secret since I joined because I adore your writing and just wanted to flail at you the whole time, especially because I had just gotten your book and I’ve been steadily reading that. And wanted to reassure you a thousand times in the CSJJ chat that your gift was in progress. It still is, sadly. I didn’t plan on cutting this into more than one part, but I wanted to make sure you had something to show for the day, we’ll pretend this is 45 minutes earlier...holiday. I have had so much fun interacting with you these last couple weeks. I really did tailor this the best I could to what you responded, and to a couple other posts on your blog. I will work on Part 2 as fast as I can, because I’m enjoying the writing now and seeing where the story is going to go. 
Thanks so much to @cssecretsanta2k18 for opening submissions one last time. I so very much enjoyed participating this year and I’m so glad I took that leap of faith!
Un-beta’d so all mistakes are probably ridiculous and definitely mine. <3
Killian has found that, on the rare occasion something bright happens in his life, it is only temporary. His love affair with Milah all those years ago: temporary. The feelings of being safe and loved with his brother before his death: temporary. His looks: Well… to be fair, they’re still there. Just a little clouded by the long hair that’s just starting to brush the collars of his shirts and a bit of unruly facial hair that he’s let grow. He’s, admittedly, a little softer around the middle than he ever was in his youth, but at 45, he really doesn’t give a damn about that. He managed to avoid the large beer gut he thought he’d have at this point of time, thankfully. But working in a bar has helped him see what he wants to avoid becoming.
 Those are and were the bright things, though. He has an apartment he hasn’t abandoned in several years – coming close on a decade, now that he thinks about it. And two jobs that he’s kept for roughly half that amount of time. He has some friends, occasionally…
 So maybe it’s not all temporary, but most of it has been in his life. Love has been rare. Kindness has been fleeting. His friends have all found comfort in their lives and left him to his own devices when he didn’t keep up with their milestones. He spends most of his time alone, now. The aforementioned lack of family has left him more of a sad curmudgeon than a full-on Scrooge, only shuffling from the place he calls home to work a few shifts at the bar he’s partial owner of, serving drinks to men and women who share the same lost expression he wears on most days.
 What Killian hopes is temporary is the music filtering through the walls and down the hallway and filling every quiet corner of his quaint living space. Where normally the muted grays soak and reflect the melancholy he spends most of his time in, the Christmas music from next door feels like it is a light trying its best to seek out every dark spot and eliminate it. Normally, these particular neighbors are at least a little more quiet and reserved, but that rule doesn’t apply to Christmas.
He knows few things about these neighbors who moved in three years ago: The woman is a single mother to one Henry Swan, her first initial is E., and she is… so breathtakingly beautiful he lacks the proper words to express it. He knows that, beyond her beauty, she is kind. She can be prickly when her judgement and standards are questioned, and she is fiercely protective of her son. She will absolutely not take shit from the father of said boy, but that doesn’t seem to be a problem that comes up as often as when they first moved in.
 Killian has struggled to speak to her at their side-by-side mailboxes so many times that she must think him an inexcusably rude jackass, but he tries for friendliness, even if it comes off as blunt brusqueness.
 Henry, on the other hand, he’s spoken to often and freely when they run into each other in the hallways. He is the warmth in the dead of winter, as far as Killian can tell, and young Henry is the reason the normally quiet space next to his is causing just a bit of a headache for Killian tonight. It’s their tree decorating party: a yearly tradition as far as he can tell, and he’ll look forward to spying the silhouette of it in the next coming days when silence reigns once more.
 On the nights he comes home early enough, he can just make out the brightly lit and glittering decorations that adorn the artificial branches – a mixture of store bought baubles and ones Henry makes every year in school. Last year, Henry made an ornament for Killian, sliding it beneath his door on Christmas Eve before heading to his father’s place. Killian did not have a tree, but he hung it on the wall by the door, tacked up as his one beacon of a decoration.
 As the sounds of laughter and Christmas music continue in the Swan apartment, Killian goes to the small table by his entrance and pulls out that same glittery star. He smiles as he hangs it in the same spot as last year, finding his part in their decoration party. Maybe it’s time to get a small tree – just one or two feet tall – just for this star, really.
 The night before Christmas Eve, he’s spending his night off reading a biography he’s been meaning to pick up when he hears a thump against his door. With a frown, he marks his spot and sets the book aside so he can investigate. Out the viewer in the door, he can’t see anything, but his door suddenly shakes again with a thump, and Killian jumps away from the door in alarm. He can see something is blocking the light from beneath the door, at least partially, so he wonders what he’ll find when he opens the damn thing.
 With a few good, deep breaths, he carefully disengages the deadbolt and prepares himself before wrenching the door open quickly.
 There’s a sound of surprise, from him and the person that had been leaning there, and then he’s looking down at one E. Swan sprawled across the threshold to his apartment. There are tracks from tears down her cheeks and her eyes are open wide in surprise, but there’s something clouding her expression, which isn’t hard to pick out the source when she tries to get back up off the floor. She’s completely wasted.
 “Sorry – thought… thought I was against a wall,” she says, but the words are slurred, and she’s having trouble getting steady. “Lost my keys, can’t get… can’t get in…” She trails off again, as she makes it to her feet, her face scrunching up again as fresh tears start and the words that come out next are some approximation of “I can’t get in my apartment” but Killian only knows this because he had assumed her meaning before the sobbing started. She tips forward and falls against him, her forehead resting against his chest.
 “Swan, come in. Come inside. I’ll call the landlord.”
 She can’t speak, not with how hard she’s still crying, so she just nods and holds out her hand to let him lead her in. With her current state, Killian begins to worry that something’s happened to Henry, and he tries to push down the lump of dread in his throat as he guides her to the couch and sits her down. He goes to grab the box of tissues he keeps in the bathroom.
 “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, her voice wobbly and thick. “I’m not usually this….” She gestures, to include her entire state of being as she accepts the tissues and starts to clean herself up. Killian detours to the kitchen real quick and grabs a glass of water for her, placing it on the coffee table in front of her and settling a respectable distance away on the couch.
 “Is Henry okay?”
 Her eyes widen for a second, and she looks up quickly. “Oh gosh, yeah. Yes. He’s fine. I’m sorry. I forgot you actually know… Sorry. Yeah.”
 They’re both quiet for a few minutes while she sips the water and blots her nose. There’s a small pile of tissues piling on his coffee table, and she catches him looking at them, her lips twisting as she tries to gather them. “Where’s the trash can? I’m so sorry – barging in here and making a mess and I don’t even know your first fucking name…”
 “Killian,” he tells her, stilling her hands and gently urging her to drop the tissues again. “It’s all right, love. We’ll take care of them in a bit. I’m going to call Marco and see if he has your spare, okay?”
 “Thanks, Killian,” she says, her smile still a little uneven, but she already seems to be clearing from the worst of the drink. He’s found that crying can have that effect sometimes, so he’s happy to see her eyes clearer though they’re red and a little puffy. “I’m Emma, by the way,” she tells him as he stands to get his phone from where it’s charging.
 “Lovely to finally meet you, Emma.” The smile he gives her is shy and he turns away quickly to go complete his task. And it is lovely, even if these are the circumstances that led to it.
 Marco answers, even at midnight. But as Killian explains the situation, Marco informs him he can’t drive at night, and tells him he won’t be able to deliver the spare until morning. With a quiet sigh to himself, he ends the call and turns back to Emma, who has somehow managed to sneak off to his kitchen to ditch the used tissues and return herself to the couch to peer around his living room with alert eyes.
 “He can’t bring it tonight,” Killian tells her as he returns to the couch. “I can drive you to a hotel or to stay with someone, if you’d prefer, but you’re welcome to stay here the night.” The last part of the sentence is out of his mouth before he’s really thought it through, but the offer is out there so he can’t take it back.
 She cocks her head to the side to consider him, as if looking for some hint of untruth to his words, but only ends up nodding.
 “Well, my brother and sister-in-law are out of town already, and my spare to their place is on my keyring, so there goes that. And I’d rather be here in the morning for Marco.” She bounces experimentally on the couch a few times, testing the feel of it, and Killian can’t help but smile. “This thing is nice.”
 “You are welcome to the bed instead, if you’d prefer,” he offers, but she’s already shaking her head. “Then let’s get you set up with some bedding and pajamas, aye?”
 “You are not at all who I thought you were,” Emma lets slip when she takes the blankets that Killian hands her from the linen closet.
 “Oh really? Who did you think I was?”
 “That quiet, kinda creepy old guy that lived down the hall,” Emma responds, and it’s clear that the dredges of the spirit are left behind, because she goes still with her eyes open wide, just like she wasn’t supposed to say that. “I mean. Like I said, you’re not that guy. But…”
 Killian gives her an expectant look, his eyebrow raised, until he can’t hold the pose any longer and starts chuckling. “Sorry to have caused you such impressions for this long, Swan. It’s just my demeanor. And in my elderly age…”
 “Shut up!”
 They’re both chuckling as she swats at him with the blankets, before moving back down the hallway to start spreading the sheet over the couch. Killian makes sure to find the softest pillow in his bunch to lend to her.
 “Thanks again,” Emma says after they’ve set up the couch as a suitable bed for the night and she’s changed into the clothes he lent her.
 “Not a problem. I’m sorry your night has gone so poorly, by the way.”
 “It gave me a chance to meet you,” Emma says, but her smile is interrupted by a large yawn.
 “Aye, same for me. Get some rest, Emma. I’ll see you in the morning?”
 She nods at him, her eyes already drifting closed as she settles against the pillow and pulls the blankets up to her chin. She’s asleep in a matter of moments, and Killian switches off all the lights on the way to his room. Tomorrow, maybe he can learn more.
 But in the morning, he discovers that Emma Swan’s appearance in his life is just another temporary thing, and he tries not to let the disappointment consume him.
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