#also can we appreciate the way leo just grips miles's hand
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lessons in opposites
(a/n) a commission for my pal @fanfic-inator795! enjoy some raph and donnie bonding !
It’s not that Raph really prefers one brother over the other; he’s been blessed with three great brothers and one fantastic sister and Raphael is grateful every day, as sure as he’s got life and breath in him, he’s so grateful that he’s not alone.
April asks, just for laughs, for a silly documentary on their Lair Games, if Raph had a favorite brother; and off the bat, on instinct, he wants to deny that he does. He loves them all. But then he blurts out Mikey’s name without thinking and then things start to shift, and Raph starts to wonder if he’s a terrible brother for that.
“It’s not a big deal, Raph,” Donnie says, after having seen the clips of how little faith his brothers had in his athleticism, and that one little clip of Raph easily admitting Mikey was his favorite, followed up by Leo, “It’s just a joke…”
But he says it in the way that’s pinched and just a little forced like he does when he takes hard hits and bad falls and just wants to laugh it off because he’s fine.
Raph swallows, nods, presses a smile that feigns belief in Donnie’s words, but he can’t stop glancing over at his brother’s face the whole rest of the time they watch April’s (incredibly edited) documentary film.
His brother keeps his eyes downcast and does that thing where he wrings his hands till they get weirdly slick with this mucusy stuff.
Like when he’s hurt and holding back.
And Raph makes a silent promise, then, that he’ll definitely make it up to his brother.
---
Life has a funny way of just screwing plans and promises over. Raph trains extra with his father on early mornings, learning to think, to focus, to get his fears under control. Donnie locks himself into work by the time training is over, and then they go patrol and watch something on Netflix and then the day is spent and it’s 4am.
So it’s not exactly intentional, the way their paths just don’t cross long enough for Raph to really get the chance to make it up to Donnie. But it’s still shitty and Raph knows there’s something he can do- he has to.
And so he googles a bunch of stuff going on in Manhattan, something that wouldn’t be so obviously intended on compensating for basically saying Don is his least favorite brother. Something Donnie won’t suspect, because if he did-
“If you asking me is a way of ‘reparations’ for the Lair Games documentary, Raph…”
“It’s not-” Raph raises his arms in innocence, and crosses over his plastron, “Turtle’s honor, Donnie. ‘S just the guys...they’ll be all ‘that’s lame’, and you…”
“Wouldn’t think a teddy bear world is lame?” Donnie quirks his perfectly drawn brow and cocks his head a little at Raph.
This is going abysmally, but not quite in a way that wasn’t expected. Raph bites his own tongue from just spilling his intentions heartfeltly- because he can’t scare his brother off right now. He’s gotta play it cool.
“Uhhh, I mean, I-”
“Because you’d be pretty accurate,” Donnie interjects, and despite his voice remaining flat, his lips curve into a ghost of a smile, and Raph’s heart stops pounding so hard, “I was wondering when you would finally ask one of us, ugh a dream come true.”
Raph genuinely cannot tell if Donnie is being sarcastic, though roughly fifteen years of training has at least let him gather, from that weird way his brother’s eyes got super overbright when he was excited, that Donnie really, like super straight up, means it.
“Wow…. well, aight then,” Raph laughs with his words, still not believing how easy it was to simply…ask to spend time with his brother, “Just pick a disguise and we good!”
“Yup, normal disguise. Friday it ‘tis,” Donnie returns the laugh, a touch awkward, before taking his sandwich back to his lab.
And the slightly manic look that Raph catches in his brother, just as he slips from view, makes a lot of little pieces in Raph’s head come together, like a little, horrifying jigsaw puzzle.
Because Raph has been blessed with having Donnie as a brother for fourteen years, he knows a terrible plan forming when he sees one.
-----
Donnie takes pride in his intellect, like not in a super cocky way, he’s just glad he’s been gifted with the ability to make a pea shooter in one afternoon that also has the capability to laser off a bastard’s face.
Still he’s not too prideful to admit that he’s sometimes stupid as hell, in the emotional department, and social department. And while that’s not exactly ideal, Donnie’s got four pretty incredible siblings to lean on for that and so he doesn’t really complain about the impossibility of picking up social cues.
But sometimes, like when his older brother is standing across from him uncomfortably stiff, babbling on about Teddy Bear Town- well sometimes Donnie kinda wishes he did get it.
It’s only until he’s stacking his third layer of his sandwich that Donnie really understands what this is all about. Because Raph’s got his ‘I’m nervously trying to make it up to you’ stink, and then Donnie remembers the documentary, and Raph’s commentary, and the really…awful way Donnie pretended not to feel afterwards.
He doesn’t want Raph to pity invite him, he doesn’t need that. And Donnie’s gonna make sure his brother knows he’s fine- he’s chill and and he’s okay with potentially being Raph’s least favorite.
So he’s supposed to respond to Raph nonchalantly, to just go with Raph and be cool about it but-
“Shelldon, download all the info you can find on Teddy Town…”
-----
“Rise and shine, bud!”
Donnie must’ve drank four extra shots of espresso to be this hype this early, and Raph grips the steering wheel of the Turtle Tank a little harder to try and not smell so nervous. Because there’s no way Donnie could have actually known what Raph’s intentions were, like he had to have just thought that this was a normal thing, and not a ‘I’m so sorry I made you feel less than appreciated, please forgive me’ type of thing.
And Donnie is definitely onto something, even if he’s not onto Raph. He’s just got that glint in his eyes, and Raph feels just a little bit selfish for wanting this to be a normal day- for his brother to just be-
“Uh...thanks for taggin’ along,” Raph doesn’t intentionally cut Donnie off, but his brother’s talking a mile a minute about the history of Teddy Bear Town and Raph knows that he’s only doing it because he feels he has to.
Donnie stops himself, blinks, and puts his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, “It’s no big deal…” he says, in complete contrary to his hyperactive Ted Talk, “Being benched for a sprained ankle was shit, needed to get out anyway…”
He glances over at Raph and looks instantly, incredibly smaller.
Raph thumbs the steering wheel, drumming against it in thought, in a search for words.
He doesn’t have to do this kinda stuff with Mikey, and Leo never shuts up- and Donnie is just…
“Bluetooth, connect to my phone,” Donnie says abruptly, before Raph even gets the chance to think of something to say.
And they stay quiet, listening to music the whole way there.
------
Things feel significantly less awkward in the bigger crowd. Raph is grateful for all the noise and movement that he can shift his focus on, instead of the downcast way Donnie’s been carrying himself since halfway through their ride over here.
And Raph’s always kinda felt his younger brother had a tough time expressing himself- that they were different that way. That Raph carried his heart on his sleeve and that his brother didn’t. But now he’s starting to see that maybe he’s got some things twisted. That he and Donnie are a lot more alike in these things than Raph thought.
“Stay close,” he tells his brother, because as aloof as humans are, they’re still humans, and they don’t always accept what’s different.
Raph remembers telling Donnie that, when they first met April, when Donnie surprisingly was the first to reach out and grab her little hand and compare it to his. And Donnie had looked at him weird, and yeah, well humans aren’t the only ones that don’t understand ‘different’.
The memory hits Raph so suddenly, and almost makes him miss a step.
He turns to find Donnie staring at him, which must mean Donnie noticed, because of course he did.
And Raph stares back because oh. Holy shit.
“Uh…” Donnie glances around awkwardly, “Raph, you’re giving off a weird...vibe right now. You good-”
“Can we talk?” Raph blurts out, and surveys their surroundings, for a place to dip, “Like real quick?”
Donnie looks like he wants to bolt now, which would be ideal in the packed hallway of the mall. But he doesn’t. He just swallows and darts his eyes and nods.
Sure.
Pros to being trained ninjas is the ability to disappear quickly, and they find a quiet, tucked away spot where Raph finally lets himself breathe.
“You’re different,” he says it quickly and rushed and Donnie’s eyes briefly widen in some sort of surprise, but Raph presses on despite his sloppy start, “You….you think different, you think, like, way smarter than us, an’ you make different jokes and express differently an’ that doesn’t. It’s not bad, Donnie.”
His brother keeps his eyes to the ground, kicking gently at nothing, “I don’t care that you said I’m your least favorite, Raph,” he mumbles.
“But you do,” Raph counters back, and keeps his voice leveled, tries not to talk to Donnie too softly or else he’d feel babied, “And that’s normal, and I wish I could say that what I said wasn’t...I dunno, like a…”
“Reflection of how you feel?” Donnie poses, but his words aren’t angry, even if Raph feels his brother’s got full rights to be.
He sighs, deflating a little, “Yeah...yeah, I guess it’s that. But not because I think...it’s because I get really...weirdly insecure man. You’re a freaking genuis and I know you never try an’ make us feel dumb, but- and then we’re both super bad at words and I just… I dunno Dee.”
Raph takes the extra step to go close the distance between him and Donnie, and Donnie stiffens up- at first, for just a couple of seconds, “But I love you, ‘cause you’re an awesome person, and ya not my least favorite. You’re not. And ya don’t gotta pretend you’re cool with everything.”
Donnie pulls back, a dorky smile on his face, which is infinitely better than the sad way he looked earlier, even better than the way he pretended like everything was good and it wasn’t.
“You don’t have to pretend either,” Donnie says, unlocking their eye contact, and staring back at his feet, “I know you were trying to...to make it up to me, but. You could’ve- you didn’t have to invite me.”
“But I wanted to,” Raph says it and means it with everything he’s got, “Really, Donnie. A-and I wanted to do somethin’ that ya wouldn’t think was me just tryna get on your good side, ya know. Somethin’ we could just...do.”
“And I messed up, the whole info-dumping….”
He’s doing it again, he’s making himself smaller and Raph’s not allowing that.
“Okay, half of that stuff, I woulda never known- and ya looked all’a that up just to get to understand me better. I just didn’t want you...t’ think you had to...say all that.”
“And I didn’t want you to think you had to invite me,” Donnie quips back, but ends it with a small smile, “So I guess we’re in the same proverbial boat.”
Raph snorts, “The boat of insecurity…”
And Donnie, stiff and awkward and still full of feeling, takes his turn to hug Raph fully this time, “Screw that boat.”
-----
In the end Donnie makes his bear with a shitton of detail, getting so wrapped up in it that they spend a couple hours there.
And Raph’s bear is simple, not all that complex like his brother’s- but that’s more than okay, actually.
Their differences were more than okay.
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#raph#donnie#commissions#fanfic-inator795#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt raph#tmnt#fic#my writing
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Honeymoon (King Liam x MC)
Rating: M (Drug Use, Substance Abuse, Violence, Self-Inflicted Violence)
Characters: Dark!Liam Rys x Dark!Lyra Frasier (MC) x Dark!Drake Walker
Summary: Fresh out of school and trying to figure things out, Lyra Frasier spends her weekdays going to a job she hates and her weekends in a drug fueled haze. And then she meets golden boy Liam. Lyra soon realizes that the violent underbelly of New York City’s elite may be more than she can handle.
Author’s Note: I haven’t updated this thing since uh......last year? I’m bad at making a writing schedule for myself. I think, the way TRR has been going as a series, I just haven’t had the motivation. But when I separate this world from that one, it helps a bit more.
Honeymoon Series
ooo. Prologue.
oo1. Honeymoon.
oo2. Midnight City.
--x--
oo3. C.R.E.A.M.
It was bad enough that Liam’s father was ill; he also had to be stubborn as fuck.
Liam winced as his ailing father lifted the shaking glass of whiskey to his lips, determined to keep drinking despite what the doctor and his wife told him about the effects on his body. Liam cleared his throat, earning a single passive glance from his father across the desk.
“Oh come on,” Constantine groaned, licking the droplets of liquor from his chin, “Not you, too. I don’t need anymore shit about what I do in my free time.”
Unwilling to take advice from those he deemed inexperienced, Constantine was an unwavering force in a world of deeply complicated decisions. Liam patiently rested his folded hands in his lap, training his expression to convey as much stoicism as he could in the given circumstance.
“You don’t seem to understand that this,” he motioned towards the glass, “is the reason why Sebastian Clark was able to fly under your radar for so long? What would’ve happened if Walker and I hadn’t figured him out? Who knows what he could’ve gotten away with--”
“That rotten, coked out fucker,” Constantine spat with a wave of the hand, “Good riddance. I didn’t need him poisoning my ranks with his bullshit.”
“That’s what I’m trying to explain,” Liam leaned forward in his seat, speaking slowly to emphasize his next point, “We don’t know that he hasn’t. And the fact that he was in your ranks for as long as he had should be worrisome. Who knows what else is going on that we don’t know about.”
“My men are loyal to me,” Constantine stated plainly, “One bad apple doesn’t always spoil the lot.”
At the age of 67, he’d been away from the action for quite some time. Evidence of a hard youth decorated his face and body in the form of scars and bones that didn’t quite heal correctly. Liam couldn’t remember a time when his father didn’t look tired. If he hadn’t seen a photo of a young Constantine with his own eyes, he’d believe the man just came into this world with a shock of white hair and bloodshot eyes. His stepmother half-joked that Liam’s older brother, Leo, caused their father to gray prematurely with his gambling and sex addictions.
On the other hand, Leo had to get it from somewhere.
Liam watched his father struggle to take another sip from his glass before averting his gaze to a family photo on his father’s desk. Teenage Justin and Liam sat side-by-side, unsmiling, with neatly pressed suits on in front of their equally serious fathers. Why Constantine kept that particular photo on his desk, Liam never understood. Nothing about it exuded warmth.
“Did Justin ever talk about a girl around you?” Liam suddenly asked, refocusing on his father who swirled his whiskey in deep thought.
“A girl?” He repeated in thought, “Once or twice. Usually he was asking advice on how to keep them tamed, you know?”
Constantine attempted a conspiratorial smile that Liam didn’t reciprocate.
“Did he mention any specific names?” Liam pressed on, “Or descriptors?”
Constantine raised a brow and sat the sweating glass on a wooden coaster, “What is this about?”
What was this about? Liam wasn’t entirely sure. There was something about the girl, Lyra, that intrigued him. How was she able to dip in and out of their world so easily without leaving any footprints behind? Who did she know?
After dropping her off back home the previous afternoon, Liam did some quick research into who she was. Aside from a few high school choir competition press reels, she was an otherwise ordinary woman.
“Well I...” Liam chose his words carefully, “ran into Justin at the bar, talking to a girl. You know we never really see him with anyone. So I was just curious.”
There was a brief pause between the two men, and the grin returned to Constantine’s face, “A hot piece of ass, huh? Thinking of getting in there?”
Liam said nothing, but fidgeted with the rings on his fingers. His father wasn’t technically wrong. But god damn if the wording didn’t make him feel like the grossest piece of shit.
He decided to drop the subject for another time.
“Sorry to push us off topic, Dad,” Liam quickly corrected, ��But, back to my original point...how do you know for sure Clark was the only shady one in the group?”
Constantine considered this, tapping his pen on the wooden desktop, “What reason would I give them to turn their backs on me? I’ve been with these men for well over 30 years, I fed them,” he counted on his fingers, “clothed them, put their kids through school, made them dukes in their own respects. They made their names on my back, and they think they’re gonna fuck me over!”
The sudden exclamation caused the man to cough violently into his arm and then into a handkerchief. Liam instinctively jumped to his feet, and rushed across the room to fetch a glass of water for his father.
“I’m fine!” Constantine croaked, attempting to catch his breath, “I just got a bit overexcited.”
Despite his protests, Constantine took the glass and sipped from it slowly. It hurt Liam to see his father deteriorating so quickly. A part of him felt like Constantine believed himself to be invincible. A smaller part of Liam felt like his father was simply just giving up. He had to put on an air of confidence, as he was at the top of the pyramid and could not show weakness. But as he grew older, cracks in the foundation began to form. Cracks that Liam had been working to seal.
Liam loved his father. There was no doubt about that. But every day the work grew more difficult. Liam could almost envision the empire crumbling at his father’s feet, all because he was too stubborn to fix the loose bricks.
As if reading his mind, Constantine sat the glass down and looked over his son, “You do know that I love you, right, kiddo?”
There was a faraway look in his eyes, a look Liam saw once in a while. And he always wondered where Constantine went when that happened.
“Yeah, I know, dad.”
Sadness darkened his father’s features, “Despite the issues that your mother and I had,” he cleared his throat, “I did love her. And I think you were the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m always going to be proud of you.”
A pit formed in Liam’s stomach and he reached across to grab his father’s hand, “Hey, what are you not telling me?”
And just like that, Constantine switched the darkness off, a confident grin returning to his face. It didn’t reach his eyes.
“A man can’t tell his kid he appreciates him, anymore? Lighten up, Liam.”
--x--
Liam sat in the garage of his apartment building to smoke and attempt at shuffling through his thoughts. Maybe it was counterproductive. An hour after leaving Constantine’s office, Liam learned of another potential fuck up in his father’s ranks. Someone was making trade deals on the low, and informing a rival company of some arms delivery pick up spots before they arrived for a cut of the profit. He passed the message along to Drake, who responded with the same concerns regarding Constantine’s failing leadership.
Liam was only one man. Though he was sure he didn’t feel an ounce of the pressure his father did, the stress he felt nearly crippled him sometimes. He briefly allowed his mind to wander to Lyra and what she was doing. Did she know how much he envied her life? She didn’t answer to anyone, she could leave the city if she wanted to, she never had to constantly look over her shoulder. Lyra carried herself with the air of freedom he could only dream about. Clutching his phone in tatted knuckles, he almost considered texting her. But truly, what would he even say?
“Hey, I know we only spoke once and you gave me your number because you wanted to pay me back for the gas (which you still don’t have to do). But what does freedom feel like?”
Right now, Liam imagined she was laying across the secondhand sofa in some old college sweatshirt, watching YouTube, her mind a thousand miles away from him. He’d never even seen her apartment. But he had a feeling she had a lot of plants and a collection of decorated whiskey bottles on her kitchen counter. She seemed like the type. He caught himself chuckling at the thought and frowned. Ideally, he’d just let her go. He could never bring her into this world, she was too good for it. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he could grow to like her.
The shrill ring of his phone cut through his thoughts, sharply pulling him from a moment of escapism he didn’t even know he needed.
“Hello?” Liam answered, attempting to mask his disappointment.
“Idon’tknowwhathappened! Idon’tknow!” A shrill voice cried on the other end between sobs. Liam pulled the phone from his face, and realized it was his father’s assistant, Penelope, calling from an unknown number. Alarm bells went off in Liam’s head, and he turned the ignition in his car.
“Pen, what happened?” He asked, sitting up in his seat.
“I just came in and he was....! I don’t know what happened, Liam! I was gone for an hour!”
“What. Happened?” Liam asked, again. His heart began to thud in his ears, and he gripped the steering wheel, “Just fucking tell me. Spit it out-”
“Constantine shot himself!”
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Let the Stars Remind You (20/20)
“It’s ok Papa, you don’t have to worry. We can trust her, she’s just like me,” She says holding his hand. “She can hear the stars. She’s just like me.” she repeats, a look of wonder on her face, pure belief in what she’s saying. Killian looks down at her. His little girl, his Starfish, and isn’t sure. He still isn’t sure if rescuing Emma Swan is the best thing he’s ever done, or their undoing.
AN: This is the last chapter, and honestly it's been written for weeks but I was holding on to it. Didn't want it to end, then had to work on my CSRR. Honestly, I'm going to miss this story a lot. But all good things come to an end. :)
Ao3 FFN
Six weeks later…
Emma’s dress was pink. That was the first thing Killian saw when she opened the door for him. She looked surprised to see him, or perhaps it was surprise at the suit he was wearing. He’d wanted to surprise her.
Her hair was up; she had a gold chain on her neck. She smiles.
“Hey.” She says. “Are you ready?”
Killian nods. “Of course.” He throws in a smirk, presenting her a rose. Emma smiles at the sight of the flower. He loves seeing that unrestrained joy on her face. It had been a common thing ever since they decided to move to Storybrooke.
“I told you, you needed a flower!” Alice announces behind him, a book bag filled with her pajamas and favorite books. She always tells him he needs a flower, so he never disappoints.
“You look really pretty Emma.” Alice says, looking at her dress with wide eyes. “Is pink your favorite color?”
Emma brightens when he sees Alice. “Thank you, kid. It is today. Are you going to be good for Zelena?” She asks, inviting them both inside. Alice nods enthusiastically looking around the small living room, before she bolts past Emma. He hears her yell for Robin.
“Don’t run in the house!” Killian calls after her.
“Don’t bother.” Zelena drowns from her seat on the couch, a martini in hand. “Those two are wild children apart, together they’re walking tornados.” She takes a sip of her drink. “You should be thanking me for my last minute babysitting.”
Emma rolls her eyes. “You know you love them.”
She did. Zelena mostly kept to herself, so having the added entertainment of the girls plus Emma seemed to always brighten up her mood.
It didn’t take long for Killian himself to notice how much Zelena appreciated the girls’ spirits. It was a little odd at first getting to know the red head, she was quick tempered and rather snarky, but he’d warmed up to her. She loved Alice so that was enough for him.
Especially since it was her who called in reinforcements to get all of Eloise’s ex-coven to the sea side town; under the supervision of Mayor Nolan they got everyone reunited with their loved ones. The ones who had no loved ones looking for them were introduced to Mother Superior, the head nun at the orphanage who matched the young ladies with families who wouldn’t bat an eye at their magical talents.
It helped that Mother Superior was in fact a fairy, and said mayor also had a magically gifted young son.
Apparently the town was a little bit different than most towns. It made it special, it made it home.
“How was the farm?” Emma asks, breaking through his thoughts.
“Good. Some of David’s pigs escaped so we had a good time rounding them up.” He says with a laugh, closing the door, leaving Zelena to the girls.
He could hear Zelena threatening to turn them both into monkeys, then a round of giggles.
“Leo and Alice worked pretty well together when they weren’t arguing.” He murmurs, hooking his arm around Emma’s.
The Mayor and her husband had taken them all under their wings since the moment they met. Mayor Nolan had invited them all into their home, wanting to make them feel as comfortable as possible. It wasn’t long before their son; Leo Nolan had butted heads with Alice.
It started with him telling her that the tooth fairy wasn’t real and had gone downhill from there.
“Did Alice make Leo levitate again?” Killian nodded.
“But it was only after he turned her hair blue.” That made Emma laugh, leaning into his side ever so slightly.
Her perfume smells of flowers.
“How was the station?” Killian asks.
“Good. Someone broke into Elsa’s Ice cream store; they got drunk at Bullseye and came in looking for something sweet.” Killian nods in understanding.
Most of the refugees and their families ended up starting new lives here in Storybrooke. It wasn’t a hard decision for most, given how understanding most of the residents were to the unusual. Everyone here either had magical talent or related to someone with such abilities. The families, after having lost their loved ones for so long relished the opportunity to make them feel at home.
Everything just fit here. It was the perfect place to settle down. After everything that happened, Killian had no intention of returning Alice to their solitude.
Not to mention that Robin was moving here, thus a perfect friend for Alice.
“Ready?” Emma asks. He gives a nod before she snaps her fingers, whisking them in front of the town square right by their favorite Italian restaurant. Emma’s magic was now nearly—if not completely—under control.
Once everything settled down, they were finally able to talk about everything, about Emma’s magic, about her fears of telling anyone, about her dedication to both him and Alice.
“We could have driven.”
“I want to share a bottle of wine.”
“I’m guessing no drinking and poofing isn’t a thing?”
“Not that Zelena’s mentioned.”
“Do you think Zelena would have mentioned it?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
He smiles, leaning forward and kissing her, kissing Emma Swan shamelessly in the middle of the street. She giggles, pulling him in for another kiss. He feels elated by her, by this, the life they’re building. He picks her up; the fabric of her dress is soft in his hand.
“I love you Emma Swan.” He tells her. He never thought he’d have this, have her, have a home again.
“And I love you Killian Jones.”
They’re nearly bursting when they head inside the restaurant.
//
He orders the chicken picatta, Emma orders the lasagna. She gets tomato sauce on her cheek. He kisses it away.
They do in fact drink the whole bottle of red wine. He’s learned that red wine makes her gigglier than usual.
“Can we go see it?” She asks as they stroll out of the restaurant. His jacket was snug around her shoulders. He smirks.
He knew she was going to ask that.
“Of course Swan.”
//
He once wondered if rescuing Emma Swan was the best thing that ever happened to him or if it would be their undoing.
He was glad she was both.
She changed everything that day. She still changes things every day. Like this morning when Alice came home with braided hair, talking a mile a minute because Alice loves braids now. Emma had done it in a booth at Granny’s before school.
She takes his hands, and they teleport. The landing is rocky, courtesy of a bit too much wine.
“Sorry.” Emma says, swaying slightly, but smiling regardless. “Maybe coming here was a bad idea…” She says uncertainly. He steadies her, pulls her against him and walks her inside.
“It’s never a bad idea.” He takes out his key; the one Marco had given him when he made the down payment.
The door opens to a deserted house, free of furniture, the kitchen in the midst of being gutted. There were half painted walls, the stairs missing a step. It was in far worse condition when he bought it, nothing remotely safe enough to live in. Thankfully Marco, the local contractor, offered his services to remodel it at a discount.
Killian wanted it perfect.
“How long?” Emma asks. She’s been practically counting down the days since he signed the paperwork.
It doesn’t help that while they waited, he was staying with David and Mary Margret Nolan. Emma was crashing with Zelena.
They had felt it was a good way to both not impose too much on one person as well as gain some healthy distance to properly explore their relationship. It wasn’t like they had the most ordinary of relationships to begin with.
It meant meeting up for lunch, talking on the phone, sneaking make out sessions in the car. It felt juvenile and sweet and perfect for a pair of people who had been on the run from the world for so long.
“A few more weeks.” He replies. “Alice still hasn’t picked out what color she wants for her room.”
“I thought she picked pink?”
“Apparently pink is lame, now she wants rainbow colors.”
Emma laughs. He grips her hand. “Want me to give you the tour?”
She does. She always does.
“There’s the living room, where we’ll have a TV for family nights, a large coffee table where we can play games like Monopoly.”
“Alice is totally going to cheat at that.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Are we going to have a lumpy couch?” He nods. He thought about getting their couch from the Lighthouse, but decided against it. He wanted to create newer happier memories.
“The lumpiest of couches.”
He takes her towards the kitchen. “We’re replacing the worn out appliances, getting some new stainless steel ones.”
“Fancy.”
“There’s going to be a small kitchen table and an island.” He adds. “And granite.”
“Granite.” She repeats. “What about upstairs?”
He takes her in his arms, so her back is snug against his chest and he just hold her. “A master bedroom.” He says pointing, “It has big windows overlooking the docks, a master bathroom, plenty of closet space.”
“Sounds like a lot of space for one person.” She teases.
“It is. Perhaps you know anyone who’d like to share it with me?”
“Perhaps.” She hums.
“There’s the guest bedroom for Liam, Alice’s room, even an office.”
“Where’s Liam at these days?” Emma asks suddenly, turning in his arms. He’s honestly not sure. Things with Liam had been tense once the initial shock of everything had faded. It had started with a few biting comments he threw Emma’s way, and ended with a blowout fight that he is absolutely not telling Emma about.
He did not need to tell Emma that Liam didn’t approve of her. It would break her heart.
He hadn’t heard from his brother since, just knew from Zelena that he was off in search of more lost souls looking for a place like Storybrooke.
Liam will come around. Killian knows. He always does.
“I think in New York, last I heard.”
//
They show up the next morning bright an early at Zelena’s door.
The woman looks grumpy when she opened the door. Her red hair in a messy bun, an emerald green robe tucked tightly around her body; he can see Robin sulking from here.
Robin’s usually grumpy in the early mornings. “Finally.” She muttered impatiently, letting them inside.
“Hey Little bird.” He says with a smirk.
“I’m not a little bird.” She replies instantly, arms crossed even tighter. “I’m Robin.”
He laughs, going over to pat her head. “Of course.” Robin shoots him a glare.
“Why does Alice always have to go to breakfast? Why can’t she have breakfast with us?”
Emma takes a seat at the table. “Because family time is important.” She replies. It does nothing to fix Robin’s sulking.
“Alice! Your dad’s here.” Zelena calls. “Is it me or does she take longer to get ready every week?” Killian shrugs. He’s not sure, and he doesn’t want to think about his little girl growing up.
Thankfully, Alice picks that moment to skip into the kitchen, glitter in her hair and her bag around her shoulders. “I’m ready for pancakes!” She announces. “Can Robin come over for dinner? Mary Margret says she’s making apple pie!”
“I hate apple pie.” Robin says back.
“You’ll love it.” The little blonde assures her. “Plus with you around Leo will stop being a jerk.”
Killian shares an amused look with Zelena. “Come on Starfish, time to go, Granny is expecting us on time.” Alice nods in agreement, and follows him and Emma out the door.
“How did your sleepover go?” Emma asks once they’re in the car. It’s only a short drive to Granny’s, and while they could teleport freely, it’s always nice to bring a little normalcy into their lives.
“Good.”
Things were good. Things were right, they were home. They were together, they were a family. He reaches out for Emma’s hand; she gives it gladly, squeezing tightly. He wonders what her ring size was, it’s a distant thought, something to think about after their house is ready, but a thought none the less.
“Papa?” Alice asks out of the blue. She’s looking out the window thoughtfully.
“If boys give girls flowers when they like them, what do girls give girls when they like them?”
Will there be a sequel? Perhaps.
Tagging: @hollyethecurious @therookshiningthrough @branlovestowrite @celestial-fire-writer @winterbaby89 @kmomof4
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Oh lala~ What do we even call this ship? Thoughts? Just go with coldflashray? I don’t want the Rays getting confused XD (I understand Mick’s pain)
————–
Leo and Ray are married couple of writers always in search of new inspiration for their books. Much of which are very adult in nature.
They are also owners of a book shop and an adult novelty store, and they have a favorite customer.
Barry Allen is a sweet and adorably anxious collage student who trips over himself every time Leo looks at him too long or talks to him about the latest shipment of books.
The sweetheart had the cutest and worst hidden crestfallen expression when he found out Leo was married.
Barry was equally disappointed when the handsome and gentle dom who owned the adult novelty and education store next door was also married. He had such rotten luck.
Or at least that’s what he thought.
It hadn’t occurred to him that they were married to each other, both were equally kind, smart, and bright but the way they presented themselves were so different.
That’s what he thought until they both propositioned him at a dinner party being held in the joined room at the back of the two stores. Apparently they liked holding parties for the local S&M and kinkster community. A party that was definitely turning out to be more risqué than he’d been led to believe when he had accepted the invite.
Why he had accepted the invite in the first place was beyond him. But despite the mistaken knowledge that he didn’t have a chance, they were still his friends. And he just liked to torture himself he guessed.
Something the dominant couple had apparently taken note of.
Which led to where he was now, at their upstairs apartment above their shops the following weekend of the party. After a long week of serious talks, medical screenings, and new personal hygiene regimes, Barry was finally ready to take the next step forward.
If he could just summon the courage to knock.
Barry chewed his lip worriedly and stared down at his outfit, wondering if he should go back home and change for the umpteenth time. It was what they had requested of him: something red, something cute, and something he felt comfortable in.
The soft and comfortable red and black plaid dress he wore over pitch black panty hose and shortshorts with converse definitely met the requirements. But should he have gone sexier? Or was this too much for an official first scene? Should he have worn the nice satin button down and skinny jeans with pumps?
He probably would have either debated another hour or gone home if the door hadn’t opened and Barry’s mind stalled out.
“Are you ready to come in Barry? You look very nice today.”
“Young boys like you should have better manners than to keep others waiting. But we can work on your manners later.”
It wasn’t bondage gear, leather, or lingerie but what they were wearing was enough to have him swaying forward the moment they crooked a finger.
Boots, gloves, slacks, dress shirts, and waistcoats. They were dressed like the finest gentleman Barry had ever seen and he wanted them to treat him like anything but.
“Ah, ah. Let’s get you comfortable before you start kneeling, Barry,” Leo scolded gently, a gloved hand gripping his arm and guiding him inside. Ray’s hand joined Leo’s, settling at the small of his back.
Barry hadn’t realized he hadn’t started to sink to his knees right there in the doorway until they had caught him.
“I’m sorry I’m late and I’m so sorry I almos-”
“It’s alright, Barry,” Leo reassured him. “We know you don’t have much hands on experience, there’s plenty of room for missteps on your part. Just let us lead and you’ll be just fine.”
“Your apologies are accepted, don’t worry about it now,” Ray smiled at him. “You don’t have to worry about anything. You’re all ours tonight. Everything that’s yours is ours. That includes things like anxiety. Now that you’re here with us, every worry, every flaw, and more is all ours. You have no other responsibility beyond being good for us.”
“Not a one,” Leo agreed.
Barry finally relaxed and melted as sweetly as white chocolate for them. “Okay.”
“Good. You look perfect tonight. Can we see what all you’re wearing, sweetheart?” Ray sat them down on a chair, handing Barry a cup of hot cocoa with cinnamon.
Barry nodded and leaned back into the couch, sipping his drink and being careful not to spill, as they worked open the buttons of his dress one at a time until they could pull it wide.
He spread his thighs a bit so they could take him in better, a flush of pride settling over his pale skin at their stares.
Black hose thigh highs, black sheer boyshorts with red lace trimmings and a little bow that did nothing to hide the red chastity cage fitted snuggly around his cock, and a red sheer teddie with black ribbons lacing through it.
“Absolutely stunning,” Leo praised.
Ray nodded in agreement and rubbed a hand alongside Barry’s jawline affectionately. “We couldn’t have chosen better ourselves.”
He beamed at the praise. “I’m happy you like it. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if it really suited me…”
“Can’t imagine it looking better on anyone else,” Leo kissed his cheek. “We really appreciate your effort. And you’re still wearing your cage even though we sent you the keys yesterday. Such a sweet boy.”
“Why don’t we get these off,” Ray leaned down and started unlacing Barry’s shoes and tugging them off. He placed them neatly beneath the coffee table. “We can talk while you finish your cocoa. It’s a bit a chilly out, you really should have worn a coat.” He rubbed his warm hands over Barry’s bare arms with a frown, feeling how cold they were.
“One definitely needs to be careful,” Leo leaned offer and gentle bit the tip of Barry’s nose. “Don’t want Jack Frost nipping at you.”
Both Barry and Ray groaned. Leo’s overt fondness for puns, especially temperature related ones, were infamous.
“How were your last exams? Did we do well?” Ray asked.
Barry was brimming with pride. “Top five of my class. Thank you both for all of your help.” He pecked them on the lips.
They talked more about school, Barry’s upcoming internship, Leo’s new order of books coming in tomorrow, and the bdsm event at one of the clubs Ray would be sponsoring next week.
Any and all nervousness Barry had about their upcoming scene vanished with the last few drops of his cocoa.
“Ready, sweetheart?” Leo guided him to his feet. Ray pulled his dress free of his shoulders and folded it to lay on the coffee table before leaving them to make last minute preparations.
“How are you feeling? Did you enjoy your cocoa?” Leo prodded.
“Much better and yes, Leo, thank you,” Barry replied contentedly.
“Good,” he kissed his forehead. “Now, you remember your scene checks?”
“Status and Cease,” Barry said without hesitation. “Status is to check how I’m doing, to which I’ll reply with either ‘green’, ‘yellow’, ‘orange’. Green is good, yellow is edging, orange is caution to ease or slow down when things start to border red. My safeword represents red, which means to Cease. If unable to speak, previously discussed hand signals will be used for a simple yes or no. A failure to respond after three seconds of an issued Status request will result in an immediate Cease. Cease is when the scene is brought to an end.”
Leo nodded as he spoke. “Very good, Barry, you’re doing so well. What is your safe word and safety signal?”
“My safe word is ‘book’,” he held up two fingers in a salute. “This is my signal.”
Leo leaned in and kissed him, slow and soft. When he pulled away, Barry wore a dazed expression.
“You’re the best boy we could ask for,” Leo smiled as Barry swayed just a little at his compliment. Their sweetheart had a praise kink a mile long.
“Ready,” came a call from the library.
Why a bookstore owner needed a home library in the first place baffled most, but they made good use of it aside from only reading. It doubled as their scene room, leaving less of a mess to take care of than if it all took place on the bed, which they would need clean for afterwards.
“Wait here and come when you’re called,” Leo kissed his forehead once more before disappearing off into the other room.
Barry stood swaying in place, his head already going to that safe warm place in his head just from a few praises and being doted on. His knees shook a little when wondered how high they would take him by the end of the night.
“Here, boy.”
He obeyed.
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